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Under Your Skin, Over The Moon

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Alright, so maybe Genji was more than Jesse had bargained for when he’d first gotten to know him. Yakuza-prince Genji had been sharp around the edges, looking for a way out, and he and Jesse had gotten on like a house on fire. After he’d been ripped near to death and brought back as some sort of specter-like ghost-in-the-machine, he’d been all rage and ire in a clunky weapon of a body. Jesse hadn’t liked him much then, but a couple years of physical therapy had done him well. Jesse was sure there were all sorts of other therapies too, but then, they were all required to do a bit of that these days. 

 

Genji was undoubtedly his best friend, and Jesse was glad to see the man getting his humor back after years of it being sapped from him or only seen when paired with bone-dry barbs. 

 

But Genji could still be a jackass, and he often dragged Jesse along with him into the worst situations he could come up with (though to be fair, the flipside was also true). 

 

“Reyes said I can take off this weekend,” Genji said, popping his head into Jesse’s corner of the rec room. “And I want to get wasted.”

 

“Hold up,” Jesse said with a snort. “Did Doctor Ziegler approve you to go out and party?”

 

“She said I am able to celebrate my freedom, as long as I do not ‘make trouble,’” Genji said, air-quoting with his fingers as he rolled his eyes. “I miss music. And beer.”

 

“Last time you tried to take liquids without a straw you had clam chowder in your chin grafts for days,” Jesse reminded him. “You’re really sure Angie gave you the okay?”

 

“I have been practicing with my new lip in physio, so it shouldn’t be an issue. Also, I don’t care.” Genji crossed his arms petulantly and stared at Jesse as if he was missing some obvious piece of information. “It’s a Friday night and no one is going to stop me.”

 

“Aw, heck, it’s Friday?” Jesse clapped the cover on his tablet shut and hopped up off the couch. “No wonder Gabe was running us so hard today. He ‘n Jack n Ana’ve got some standing thing on Fridays.”

 

“Get! me! beer!” Genji chanted. He drummed his fingers against the table in front of him, metal and skin hitting the laminate with a thump taptaptap thump. “They gave me crazy cyborg organs. I bet I could drink drain cleaner now and be fine.”

 

“Let’s not test that particular one,” Jesse decided. “Besides, I got something way finer ‘n shitty beer or drain cleaner. C’mon.”

 

They walked amicably back to Jesse’s quarters, Genji loping along at an unusually chipper pace. 

 

“Legs workin’ out okay for you this time?” Jesse asked as they rounded corner towards his quarters. “You’re not gonna topple over on me after a little tipple, are you?”

 

“I am not that top-heavy,” Genji said with a frown. “What about you? Will you sing Shania Twain this time?”

 

“That was once , and Miss Twain is a treasure , you heathen,” Jesse said with a huff. “You’re just lucky I didn’t channel Dolly on your ass.

 

“Alright, now-- you can’t tell anyone about this,” Jesse warned as he tapped his lock code into the panel by his door. He gently set his hat on a hook as he ducked into the room, glancing back over his shoulder at Genji as he did so. “Strictly speaking I’m not supposed to have this. But Torb ain’t supposed to have a still in his lab either, so it ain’t exactly my fault if I stumbled across some things and struck a deal.”

 

He dropped to the floor with a grunt, scrambling under his bed as far as he could reach. Genji watched lazily, rolling his eyes at Jesse’s wiggling.

 

“Your ass is too fat to fit under there,” Genji laughed. “Maybe you should run more.”

 

“My ass, ” came Jesse’s muffled grumble, “is fat because Reyes makes me do a fuckin’ thousand squats a day. That is muscle, thank you very much.”

 

“Whatever you say, bubble boy,” Genji said, nudging Jesse’s hip with a foot. “Where’s the hooch?”

 

“Down here somewh-- aha!” Jesse wriggled back out from under his bed, covered only in a handful of dust bunnies instead of the solid coating he would have gotten under Genji’s bed. “Genu-ine corn liquor, unaged, also known as Appalaichian whiskey.”

 

“Moonshine?” Genji snorted. “You want us to get fucked up on Torbjorn’s moonshine.”

 

“My moonshine,” Jesse corrected. “Meticulously crafted, with machinery on loan from our favorite mechanic. Plus this one has strawberries in it, so we have a snack to go with it.”

 

“You got me fruity moonshine,” Genji deadpanned. After a second of staring in disbelief, he shrugged, then dropped onto Jesse’s bed. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

 

Jesse stood with a groan, stretching his back out after being on the floor. He set his acquisition-- a large jar of unsettlingly red sloshing liquid that had an alarming amount of fruit chunks in it-- on his desk, then went about peeling off his combat-training layers. 

 

“What are you doing now?” Genji asked, pulling his legs up to sit cross-legged “I thought we were going out?” 

 

“With a jar of liquid gold?” Jesse’s raised eyebrow disappeared as he shrugged off his outer shirt, leaving him in an undershirt and jeans. “Hell no. Torb’d have my hide if he saw me with this in public. We made a pact. If I walk out there with a sugar shine on my face and a sway in my step he’ll have words for me, and I’m not in the mood. Take a load off, buddy. We’re gonna get comfortable.” With that, he kicked his boots off.

 

Genji groaned, but shrugged off his over-sized Blackwatch hoodie, though he retained the long shorts he favored these days. “Can we at least put on a movie?” 

 

“I’ll do you one better,” Jesse grinned. “We’ll make it into a game. We’ll watch Raiders of the Lost Ark and every time a Nazi misses a shot, we do shots. I’m a bulky guy and you have fancy new liver. It should take us awhile to get into the danger zone.”

 

Genji unhinged his protective mask with a hiss, dropping the face shield on the floor with a heavy clunk. He grinned.

 

“You’re on.”

 

--

 

An hour and a half and approximately half a jar of pulpy, sugary booze later, Jesse and Genji lay on Jesse’s bed in a loose tangle, staring up at the projected movie on the ceiling.

 

“We are...fuckening geniuses,” Jesse slurred. He pointed an unsteady finger at the ceiling, where Indiana Jones was now tumbling through a crumbling temple. “Athena, darlin’, thank you so much for being accommodating in our hour of need.”

 

“It was my pleasure to assist you,” Athena chimed back. “Please alert me if you require emergency medical attention.”

 

“Nah, I think we’re good.” Jesse grunted and stretched his arms above his head, groaning when it made his belly slosh uncomfortably. He smacked his lips. They were dry, his spittle thick with sugar. “Hey, Genji-- I’m gonna get some water. You want any?”

 

Genji grunted in response, staring up at the movie playing with glazed eyes. 

 

Jesse raised an eyebrow. “How many shots did you have, anyway?” He looked at the jar of liquor on the small table next to the bed; it was significantly emptier than it had been at the beginning of the evening.  “I know I did most of that.”

 

“Two,” Genji slurred. He raised his hands up, one finger on each hand pointing. “I did two, and then things got blurry.”

 

“Sit up, buddy,” Jesse said, his tone serious despite the alcohol-softened consonants. “I’m gonna get you somethin’ to drink.”

 

“I weigh like eighty kilos,” Genji groaned. “Why do I feel like shit?”

 

“Dunno,” Jesse said apprehensively. “I’ll, uh...I’ll be right back. You sit here.”

 

He stumbled to the adjoining bathroom, clicking the door shut behind him. He pulled out his communicator, fitting the earpiece in as he dialed his favorite doctor’s line.

 

Scheisse , what time is it? Jesse? Are you okay?” Angela’s voice came through, thick with sleep. “I just got off a fourteen-hour shift. You better be dying.”

 

“The-or-eti-cally,” Jesse said, drawing out the syllables in an attempt to sound casual and sober, “if I were to be drinking illicit fruit hooch with our favorite cyborg, what kind of tolerance should I expect from him?”

 

There was a pause, and then a deep, tired groan. “How much has he already had?”

 

“Two shots of the kind of shit Torb definitely doesn’t keep under the lab’s handwashing sink?”

 

The next groan immediately brought to mind the visual of Angela pinching the ever-tight nerve between her eyebrows. “Get him some water and biotics and don’t let him have any more of that paint thinner. He’s probably three sheets to the wind by now. You realize he only has about 50 kilos of flesh left? He’d be the lightest-weight drinker we have on staff.”

 

“Worse than Lena?”

 

“Much worse than Lena.”

 

Jesse hissed through his teeth, exhaling sharply. “Cool, alright, awesome, thanks Angie, gotta go.” He shut off his comm, running his hand through his hair a couple times and staring at his wavering reflection in the mirror. He headed back out to his bedroom on unsteady feet, grabbing a couple bottles of water from the case by his desk. 

 

“Hey, G-man, I got the—” He stopped dead in the center of the room, staring at what lay before him.

 

The floor, previously only covered in clothes and half-eaten bags of snack food with the projector in the center of it, was now also littered with…

 

“Did you take off your fucking legs ?” Jesse asked incredulously as he stared at Genji’s truncated body laid prone on his bed.

 

And my arm,” Genji corrected him with a drunken snort of a laugh. “Now you can’t kick me out.”

 

“I wasn’t gonna kick you out,” Jesse grumped. He dropped heavily onto the bed, pressing the water bottle into Genji’s remaining hand. “Fuckin’ useless drunk, Jesus fucking Christ. Angie said not to let you drink any more.”

 

“Narc,” Genji accused, spilling his shot glass of fruit pulp all over himself. 

 

“Fuck, and now you got strawberries everywhere, great. C’mere, you,” Jesse said, trying to wipe Genji off with an old t-shirt. 

 

“Nooo,” Genji whined, rolling back and forth. Jesse ignored him and hefted him up into a pile of pillows, patting him dry.

 

“How does a ninja acrobat not know his own limits?”

 

“Because I thought my supri— seprar— robot organs would negate the ethanol,” Genji grumped. He grimaced as Jesse wiped the red pulp off his face. “You’re too nice.”

 

“I’m nice, and we’re drunk, and I’m supposed to be enjoying my buzz too, but look where we are,” Jesse said, sighing. He gave up, collapsing down on the bed with Genji. “I can’t focus on the movie anymore, and if he gets in one more shootout I’m gonna get alcohol poisoning.”

 

“Pffft,” Genji scoffed, ignoring the second half of Jesse’s rant. “ I’m not nice.”

 

“But you are drunk.” 

 

Genji frowned, eyes unfocused. He rolled on his side to look at Jesse, then wiggled to get comfortable. He reached out with one hand, awkwardly patting Jesse’s face. “I’m not nice.”

 

“You’re plenty nice, damn fool,” Jesse said, rolling his eyes. He yelped as Genji rolled right onto him, apparently trying to wrestle when he could barely get leverage. “Quit it! Stay still or you’ll roll right off the fucking bed.”

 

“Make me,” Genji challenged, somehow managing to keep Jesse on his back. “Say I’m not nice!”

 

“Fucking fine,” Jesse growled, rolling them over and plunking himself down on Genji’s torso. “You’re an evil bastard. Stay down, damn.” He panted, staring at the man below him. 

 

Genji’s black synthetic lower lip trembled, even as the top pulled back in a sneer. “Terrible. Sitting on a limbless veteran. What would your mother say?”

 

“Mama would’ve had my ass for sharing my secret stash with anyone in the first place. ‘Sides, you took your fucking body apart, Mr. Potato Head.” Jesse dropped to the bed next to him, grateful to not have to fight with the fucking room spinning.

 

He lay in bed with his eyes closed, Genji a warm heat at his side as the room swayed, spinning just like he always liked. Like the world was spinning on without him for a bit.

 

After a brief moment of silence, Genji patted his chest. “Jesse.”

 

Jesse grunted. “What.”

 

“It’s definitely your shitty booze saying this, but also, just because maybe, sometimes, it’s obvious, but also I think about it a lot.”

 

“What in the goddamn hell are you talking about?”

 

“You have pretty eyes.” Genji patted him blindly. “And stupid long eyelashes. ‘N they’re like. Brown, but a pretty brown.”

 

“Yours are brown too, dipshit. Least when they ain’t all murdery.”

 

Genji frowned. “My eyes’re only red sometimes bec—  because Doctor Ziegler says they haven’t fixed them all the way yet and the cosmetics are apparently the least important bits of my—  my murder eyes. They have infrared sens’rs in ‘em. ‘S why they’re red.”

 

“So you can see in the dark?”

 

Genji hummed, nodding. “I can see all the time.”  

 

Jesse squinted up at the spinning ceiling, then focused on Genji next to him. “So you don’t ever get to stop lookin’ at stuff?”

 

Genji grinned dopily. “Nope.” he patted Jesse’s cheek again. 

 

“Is that why you wanted to get drunk?”

 

Genji’s grin widened. “Yup.”

 

A long moment passed. Jesse couldn’t have articulated his thought process in the next five seconds if you’d asked him about it, but quite suddenly his breath hitched, and he patted Genji back, mumbling, “Hey.”

 

“What?”

 

“I got a way you could stop seeing stuff.”

 

“What is it?”

 

“Close your fucking eyes, idiot.” 

 

They broke down snickering, Genji pulling him into another drunken tussle. It ended with them collapsed in an awkward pile, Jesse holding onto Genji like a life raft while they both howled. 

 

Eventually, they settled, and Jesse tried again.

 

“Okay, so close your eyes for real.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Do it, dingus.”

 

Genji laughed, but his eyelids dropped closed.

 

Before he could second-guess himself, Jesse leaned down and planted a kiss firmly on Genji’s mouth. It wasn’t with anything even close to finesse, just a wet smack of lips against the solid texture of Genji’s synthetic lower jaw and scarred upper lip, but Jesse felt proud of himself for doing it all the same. 

 

“There. No thinking.”

 

“I don’t know,” Genji said slowly, licking his lip as if chasing the last of a meal. “I don’t know if I have the technique down yet. Show me again?”

 

Jesse leaned over him, staring at Genji’s cheeks flushed under the fresh scarring, a mottled red that reminded him of ripe fruit. He leaned down, pressing their bodies flush together, chest to chest, and kissed Genji slowly. It was softer, warmer, wet and close. Intimate, Jesse thought vaguely. Genji’s hand cupped the back of his head, pulling him closer, and Jesse brough his hand up to rest on Genji’s waist. 

 

They kissed for long minutes, mouths made clumsy by drink and eager from the newness of it all. Genji nipped carefully at Jesse’s lip, and they both laughed when Jesse gave an approving “Hm!” before Genji swatted him and leaned back into the bed, sighing.

 

Jesse collapsed next to him, sighing contentedly. He was buzzed, he’d gotten to kiss someone, and Genji, his best friend in the world, was right there with him. When Genji snored before Jesse could initiate anything again, he just pulled a blanket up over them both and settled in for a heavy sleep.

 

— 

 

The sun rolled over Jesse’s room bright and early as always, inadvertently welcomed in through the blinds he’d forgotten to close the night before. It cast a slowly-warming ray over the floor, creeping up until it slid over Jesse’s bed to stab him in the eyes.

 

Jesse groaned and buried his head into his pillow. His very hard pillow, which was smooth and warm against his cheek but metallic and cool against his hand lower down.

 

His pillow sighed and mumbled something in its sleep, and just like that, Jesse was awake. 

 

He didn’t move immediately, body heavy the way it always was after a night of carousing. His head throbbed a bit, but it was nothing a biotic booster and a glass of water wouldn’t cure. He found himself luxuriating in the tight cuddle he and Genji had fallen into in the night.

 

He was surprised that he wasn’t more mortified about what he’d done at the end there. But weirdly enough, the kiss itself was the least uncomfortable of what had happened last night. He groggily opened his eyes without moving, staring blearily out over the wasteland of his small quarters: the floor was littered with tiny cups, all the same sickly sweet shade of pink that came from syrupy berry residue; scattered among them, a clear path made, were both of Genji’s legs and a lone arm, the hand of which he could now see was stuck in a one-fingered salute.

 

Jesse smacked his lips—  dry as the desert—  and fumbled one-handedly for the bottle of water he vaguely remembered leaving nearby. Once found, he slowly disentangled himself from Genji’s torso to crack open the bottle, sipping slowly so he could keep it down. Thirst quenched and headache subsiding, he settled himself back in bed, putting his head back on Genji’s shoulder.

 

“You smell terrible,” was the immediate mumbled greeting.

 

“You smell worse,” Jesse muttered back on instinct. “Shoulda put your faceplate back on before you conked out. Maybe your morning breath wouldn’t’ve woken me up so damn early.”

 

Genji huffed a laugh. They lay in silence for a while, just breathing, struggling to wake up more fully. 

 

Jesse yawned, pressing the cold water bottle against his forehead. “Gettin’ pretty good with that lip, though. Who else have you been practicing with?”

 

“Fuck off,” Genji said without a hint of heat. 

 

“Make me,” Jesse said back, an echo of the night before.

 

And just like that, the thread of tension from the night before was back, pulling them together like the weft of a tapestry. Jesse let his hand on Genji’s waist wander,  savoring the feel of warm skin under his hand, gradually tracing the seam of synthetic to organic. He paused at the top of the shorts the cyborg still wore before gliding back up.

 

Genji reached over his body—  Jesse was on his off side, where the left arm was disconnected—  and ran his fingers through Jesse’s hair.

 

“Your stupid hair is soft, too,” Genji said, sleepily incredulous. “Stop being pretty. I’m supposed to be the pretty one. I used to be, anyway.”

 

Jesse huffed a laugh, ducking in to kiss Genji’s shoulder, neck, mouth. 

 

They kissed languidly, sleepily, more slowly than even the night before’s alcohol-slurred kisses. Jesse would have been content to kiss like this for the rest of the day, slowly grinding against Genji’s hip. His hand slipped below the waistband of Genji’s shorts: just running his fingers over mottled, ragged scar tissue, through the patchy hair on his belly, down to the soaked core of him. He dragged two fingers between Genji’s lips, grinding the heel of his palm against Genji’s proudly-jutting cock.

 

“You want your legs back on?” Jesse murmured against Genji’s shoulders, starting to draw his hand away.

 

Genji huffed, abruptly grabbing Jesse’s wrist to freeze his movements. “If you stopped me just for that I’ll kill you. Legs later. Mouth now.”

 

“Alright, alright, just thought you might wanna throw your legs over my shoulders while I do all the work,” Jesse said with a chuckle, “but whatever floats your boat.”

 

“Fuck off,” Genji said again, his tone fond.

 

Jesse scooted lower in the bed, tugging Genji’s shorts with him. How they hadn’t ended up completely naked the night before was a mystery (most likely solved with the answer “sheer laziness”) but Jesse was glad for the barrier now, if only because it felt like he was peeling away some final layer of Genji’s protective tendencies.

 

Genji bare was an intriguing thing. His burn-mottled thighs only extended about halfway down the normal length of bone, each ending in a biotech port for his prostheses. But his hips swiveled as Jesse scooted into place, going wide invitingly as Jesse cast the shorts aside. 

 

Jesse mouthed over Genji’s belly carefully, dragging his teeth over sensitive skin before taking his thumbs and spreading his lips so he could duck in and run the flat of his tongue against Genji’s hole. He circled Genji’s dick before sucking it into his mouth, slowly suckling at it with lazy purpose. He took his time there, humming in approval when Genji’s hand grabbed his hair, yanking just this side of hard enough to be good. 

 

“Fuck, you taste good. Better than your damn morning breath, anyway,” Jesse teased, slurping at his cock again. He spread Genji wider with his thumbs, thrusting his tongue inside him as deep as he could. 

 

“Fuck...off!” Genji gasped, wriggling and tightening his grip in Jesse’s hair. “Less talking, more sucking.”

 

Jesse laughed, but went back to work. His cock throbbed in his shorts. He snuck a hand down just to grip himself—  try to take the pressure off. Genji was soaked and slick against his mouth, wet dripping down his chin as Jesse ate him out with enthusiasm usually reserved for the mess hall’s peach cobbler. Wiry hair rasped against his cheeks, Genji’s cock jutting out shiny and flushed, twitching against his tongue every time he sucked on him. 

 

“Fuck, you mind..?” Jesse asked breathily, palming himself. Genji eyed him hungrily, yanking him up with his hand on Jesse’s neck for another kiss.

 

They disentangled just long enough for Jesse to drop his underwear, groaning when Genji wrapped his hand around him, calloused and wet with spit.

 

Jesse rocked against Genji, rubbing his cock along the slick seam of him.

 

“Nothing inside,” Genji told him. “Just— not today.”

 

“‘S fine,” Jesse murmured, happy just to rub his cock over Genji’s wet thighs. He gasped as Genji’s lips flexed against his length. “You tell me where, when, how you want me, I’ll be there.”

 

They both groaned as Genji rolled his hips as best he could, reaching up to grip Jesse’s shoulder, to tug him down and bite at his lips again. 

 

Fuck, but he was wet. Jesse moaned into Genji’s mouth as his cock twitched in his hand. He rubbed it over the plush, hot clutch of Genji’s hole, pressing his cockhead to Genji’s and rubbing insistently, harder and harder until Genji’s breath caught in his throat, his back bowing with tension. Jesse had half a second to take in Genji’s sweat-beaded brow, his eyes squeezed shut as he jerked under Jesse’s touch, before he, too, came apart, spurting thick ropes of come over Genji’s cock and belly while Genji rasped, pulsing against him.

 

At last, after a long, hard crashing of waves, Jesse collapsed on the bed again, hand cupping Genji’s groin, savoring the wet aftershocks as Genji twitched against him. 

 

Finally, he drew his wet hand away, wiping it off on the sheets. Jesse curled up around Genji again, content to bask in their sweaty afterglow. 

 

“No more moonshine,” Genji said several minutes later, waking Jesse from what was definitely not another nap. “It hit me too fast to enjoy.”

 

“What do you wanna do next time, then?”

 

“Just... this,” Genji said simply. He laughed, belly-deep and full. “And maybe a beer after .”

 

“Noted,” Jesse said with a chuckle.

 

“Now get me some water. I have a headache.”

 

“Need me to give you a hand?”

 

“That joke was old the first time you used it,” Genji grumbled.

 

“I still think it’s funny,” Jesse said with a shit-eating grin. “It’s convenient. You might even call it... handy.”

 

Genji groaned and started to roll over Jesse, lowering himself to the floor.

 

“Where are you going?”


Genji shot him an exasperated glare over his shoulder. “I’m putting my legs on so I can kick your ass.”