( closed ) those eyes you know i think of them still sometimes

[peacekeeps]

who: jesse mccree & genji shimada
what: old friends, old memories, and fireflies. SURELY a recipe for SUCCESS
when: 4-30 or so
where: from the perimeter guard outposts to probably a riverfront or some shit idk
warnings: none!

[ jesse's been good about slapping the fireflies away when they get too close. they're easy to see at all hours of the day, and he's never been the kind to be bothered by bugs anyway; he has good memories of long stakeout nights with crickets as his only company.

he knows one eventually got him by the scruff of the neck, though, because he can't stop scratching that bite underneath the collar of his shirt—and of course it'd happen when he had plans to meet genji after his shift at the perimeter guard. the outpost is quiet at this time of night, third-shifters rotating in on jesse's night off. he steps inside and catches the light green gleam of genji's body armor by the exit.

it's still odd to see genji like this. past the obvious physical differences in appearance, there's no denying the fact that the change that's come over genji over the past few years has been a complete one: every gesture feels different, like all the things he used to keep wound up tight inside have been allowed to unravel, slowly and at their own leisure, until they filled his limbs with purpose. jesse's glad for him, without a doubt, but it also leaves him a little in the lurch. they'd had a lot in common before, a couple of dangerous strays taken in by a master that had been their one and only absolute; he's less sure about what they have now—about what genji thinks of him, all these years gone by and jesse mccree still the same.

he scratches the back of his neck with one hand and raises the other in friendly salute. ]

Hey, partner. [ he's grinning. ] You ready to get goin'?

[ jesse's still pleased as punch at the sight of him, at least, inordinately so. yeah, he's always been slow to change. ]

Comments

[flowlikewater]

[ He remembers when he left. Honestly, he didn't think anybody would miss him. Genji was so far down in his spiral of self hatred and dysphoria he was convinced of it. So many times he felt pathetic for missing Jesse, all the nights spent with the Bedouin where he nearly wrote him a letter, so many times in the monastery where he told Master some funny story of the cowboy. After a while he just... didn't think it was an option. It had been so long, until the Recall notice. He'd be lying if a little flutter of hope hadn't appeared in his chest at the thought of seeing him again.

It's certainly beautiful past the reeds and into the sand. Genji's glad he can appreciate these things now. He takes in a deep breath of the night air and runs a hand over his hair, brushing it back from his forehead. Closing his eyes when Jesse speaks again, he responds with a faint hum from the back of his throat. ] I wish I had been able to be more open with you, back then. I realize now I was not the only one hurting.

[ He finds the same desire, to touch his arm or loop a hand around his bicep as they walk. Odd. Genji chuckles a little and scratches at the firefly bite lightly. ] But no, we were not. We were always more... preoccupied.