Junkrat sat on the far side of the transport, eyes closed and breathing slow as he lay in a light slumber. The mission in Ilios took way longer than the junker had liked and he had been way too careless on the mission. His metal arm was scraped up real bad and the paint was chipping along the edges and dents. He had made a mental note to fix it up when they arrived back at the Gibraltar base. His other arm was sore and red, the skin mottled with cuts and grazes where he had gotten too cocky during the mission.
The junker would have gone to Mercy to get himself patched up, but he didn't quite like the swiss woman all that much. The last time he had gone to her for a check-up, she had given him a twenty minute lecture on how important it was to maintain his prosthetics and that he should probably replace them with more modern technology.
The junker’s gentle snores were interrupted by the quiet jangle of spurs. Junkrat cracked his eyes open, rubbing a metal hand over them. “Hmm?” he mumbled, seeing a blurry blob of red and brown. He let his eyes focus a moment, the blobs forming together and revealing themselves to be McCree. “Oh hey there sweeeeetie,” Jamie managed out through a yawn, blinking a couple times at the cowboy.
“Good mornin’ sunshine,” McCree said with his southern drawl. In his arms was a cyan box with a large red plus on the top. “Ya have a nice nap?”
The junker nodded, smiling wide at his boyfriend. “Whatcha need, love?”
The gunslinger set down the medical kit and kneeled down in front of Jamie, eyes drawn to the obviously injured arm. “Darlin’ what’re you doin’ way over here with injuries like those? Ya should be in Angie’s getting your wounds tended to.”
“Don't like ‘er. Always nags at me to be more careful with my arm and leg,” Jamie grumbled. In his opinion, if the limbs worked, they were fine.
“Well ya should be more careful with yourself, sweetheart. I don't like ya gettin’ hurt all the time like this.” McCree clicked open the med kit and pulled out a couple things. “I worry about you, ya know?”
“Heh he, sorry about that, mate.” Jamie had an apologetic look on his face, shoulders raised slightly upwards. “She may be right, but I still prefer you patchin me up.”
“And why is that, buttercup?” Jesse hummed, looking up.
“She also doesn't kiss me better like you do”
The cowboy’s cheeks went pink instantly. “Well I hope she doesn't. I don't want to be losin’ my job here now, do I?” He tried to hide the embarrassment in his voice, but ended up failing miserably. Jesse began wiping down Jamie’s arm, the junker giving him a cheeky smile.
“No one can take yer place, love.” Junkrat leaned forward, placing a small smooch on McCree’s forehead. “And I don't think I’d want anyone but you kissin’ me better.” Junkrat watched as Jesse worked, his hands moving gently and swiftly as he bandaged up the blond’s arm.
The gunslinger hummed gently as he worked, placing a gentle kiss on Jamie’s bandages as he spiraled them around his arm. When he had finished wrapping them, he slid his hand down the underside of Junkrat’s arm until their hands slotted together perfectly. He lifted the hand up to his lips, placing a kiss on the back of Jamie’s hand as if he were a prince.
The junker felt a blush rise to his cheeks and a giggle escape his lips. When McCree got up to sit beside the junker, Jamie immediately rested his head on the shorter’s shoulder and nuzzled into the familiar smell.
“Get some rest, darlin, I ain't goin’ nowhere,” McCree hummed, a smile on his face.
Jamie sighed, eyes slipping shut, “What would I do without ya.” His voice was a quiet murmur as his breathing evened out and sleep overtook him once more.
An hour later, Mercy was doing her final run around the transport to check for any unaccounted patients. A small smile grew on the woman’s face when she saw Jamie and McCree quietly dozing together. The junker’s head on McCree’s shoulder and the cowboy’s head atop Jamie’s.