#there is one where i got a buncha lipstick marks and another one where im looking up with the most shiny eyes but like

[starredforlife]

thinking abt the pictures of me from jan where i was kissed as hell

[fume-knight-of-shovelry]

Gency Week 2018, Day 3: Mistletoe

With art to come from the talented @northwindart!

Overwatch, as an organization, did not exactly hold a unified "winter holiday festival”. Not only was the organization made up of a diverse group of people from a wide variety of regions and religions, some of whom did not celebrate December holidays (or, in the case of the residents of the Southern Hemisphere, didn’t even have winter in December), but the widespread structure didn’t make a single gala or party feasible. Add in the around-the-clock nature of most of the organization’s work, and all the ingredients were in place for a half-assed “holiday celebration” where a variety of icons, from Christmas trees to menorahs to Kwanzaa Kinaras and Shinto Kadomatsu decorated the hallways, front doors, walls, floors and ceilings in Overwatch bases around the world.

Genji Shimada, in particular, did not care for these added distractions. He still practiced the Shinto New Year traditions, but as an acting member of Blackwatch he didn’t have the time or reputation to spend on elaborate celebrations. His black-and-red circuitry and exposed chest gave off an aura of brutality that he was happy to exploit to be left alone in his search for solitude and places to focus his rage and frustration. By fermenting these powerful, violent impulses inside himself, he was able to intensify his energy whenever he was next needed in combat. It didn’t make him the best person to be around, but he didn’t care.

Only a few people had been able to get him to relax a bit around them. His fellow Blackwatch agents, for one, especially McCree. Tracer, on occasion, especially when they were finished sparring. He respected Captain Ana Amari, thanks to her maternal concern for her subordinates matching the severity she drilled them with. Winston, thanks to his to-the-point speaking pattern that minimized wasted time. And the medic, Angela Ziegler, also known as “Mercy”. She had been instrumental in saving his life, but that was long ago and no longer informed any part of their dynamic. Outside of that she had treated Genji with patience, respect, and empathy. He did not open up fully to any of them, but he was definitely able to loosen up around some of his fellows.

Which is why he was caught so off-guard when he stumbled into Angela standing stock-still in a doorway in the organization’s Swiss headquarters. Genji was leaving the training ground after slicing up a training dummy on McCree and Ana’s recommendation, and had been looking absentmindedly at the walls when he’d walked into the combat medic. Frowning, he looked up at her, opening his mouth to ask her what was wrong, when he followed her gaze upwards.

Ah. That explained it. Some prankster had set up mistletoe above the doorway leading from the training room: a childish custom whereby any two people who stood underneath it had to kiss. And seeing as he had been the only person in the room for the last hour and that this hallway led nowhere else, and it hadn’t been there when he’d entered...someone was trying to prank him. And Angela as well.

 Well, he wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. Genji would have shoved his way past the person blocking the doorway if it hadn’t been Angela. He was wrathful and capable of great violence, but he wasn’t going to take that out on her. “Ziegler. I understand that this is awkward, but perhaps we can just ignore this and move on with our lives? I’m willing to pretend that this did not happen if you are.”

Angela was horrified. The last thing she remembered was Lena asking her to meet her in the training room to “take a look at a funky lil’ thing the accel’rator does when I use it a buncha times”. She should have been suspicious that Lena was asking for her help rather than Winston’s, but when she went to Winston, he’d given her the a-OK to talk to Lena. When she’d found the mistletoe, she’d planned on turning around and walking away, but then she’d heard someone approaching and waited to see who it was. The fact that Genji was the one who had rounded the corner froze her feet to the ground, but she didn’t know why. She could only stare up at the offending plant in shock until Genji spoke to her.

 The medic averted her eyes. What could be the harm? It was a little bit of fun, after all, to play along with the holiday customs.

 “...Ziegler? Are you well?”

 Without thinking, she grabbed Genji by the shoulders and mashed her face into his faceplate. Her lips met the cold metal covering his face, but she swore she could hear his lips pressing against the metal separating them. Genji’s eyes widened in surprise, but he didn’t push her away, even as his breathing got heavier beneath his mask and he found himself returning her kiss as best he could against the barrier between them. Mercy’s eyes closed as she deepened the pseudo-kiss, her fingers running over his biceps, on his pectorals, along the back of his neck as he found himself holding her by the small of her back. What was going on?

A hissing sound interrupted them and he realized, with some embarrassment, that he was venting heat, his body reaching a critical temperature as his face grew hot: pore-like openings in his right shoulder unlocked and let loose a blast of cool steam. The sound was enough to break them out of the reverie, and they both pulled away from each other simultaneously. Mercy’s face was beet-red and she was breathing heavily, and he knew he was in the same situation.

 Mercy’s head felt hot and she was slightly dizzy with the surge of emotion that had gone over her. “I...am not sure where that came from.”

 “Nor do I.” Angela decided not to point out that Genji now had a bright red lipstick mark where his mouth was beneath his faceplate. “That was…”

 “Sorry, Genji, I…” He raised a hand.

“That was nice, Ziegler. I…” Genji trailed off, and the two of them stood in an awkward silence, faces hot, cheeks red, chests heaving as they regained their senses. Genji tried not to notice how Angela’s rising and falling chest made her breasts sway slightly, cooped up as they were beneath her tight combat suit.

 “...”

 “...”

 “...I’ll see you around, Genji?”

 “...Yes.” Genji replied, still dumbfounded, as Angela paused for a moment before turning around and walking away. He waited until she’d turned the corner before he started after her. Why did he only now just notice how widely her hips swayed when she walked, how much her pants hugged her thighs, how tightly the back of her suit clung to the outline of her rear?

He needed a break. And a shower. And perhaps some time alone with the memories of what he’d just seen and experienced, and then another shower after that.

Angela, meanwhile, was trying hard not to hop-skip like a schoolgirl down the hallways of her employer’s organization. She had to be professional. But that had been some of the most fun she’d had in a long time. She needed a bath. And a bit of time to think about how Genji’s muscles felt underneath her fingers. And then another bath.

-------------------------------

As the video feed showed Genji and Angela taking different exits from the hallway leading from the training room, chuckles rang out from the observers.

 “Well, I’ll be. That went better than expected. And I know what that awkward lil’ gait means for Genji: last time I saw ‘im move like that, he’d been reminiscing ‘bout the time he got the Prime Minister of Japan’s daughter in bed with him…’longside Miss Korea an’ the heiress to some South African renewable energy megacorp.” McCree nodded sagely, as if this wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. “Tracer, I believe ye owe me. Pay up.”

 Tracer pouted, but forked over a stack of bills to the American gunslinger. “S’not fair, y’know. I said they’d snog, for sure, just not that they’d get handsy. No gropin’, even!” The winnowy, flighty operative crossed her arms and frowned.

 “Ahaha! S’yer loss, Tracer. My boy’s got it. Speakin’ o which...hold up.” McCree flipped through the paper, then glared at Tracer. “This’s worthless British pounds! What’re ye doin’, givin’ me currency that’s not worth th’ paper it’s printed on?” Tracer stuck her tongue out at McCree, then laughed again.

 “Sorry, McCree! S’not my fault we’re in Switzerland. Next time yer in the UK, I’m sure you’ll have a doozy of a time…’less you wanna exchange it for francs here for seventy percent of the value, of course!”

 “Cut the chatter, you two.” Captain Amari spoke sharply, wagging a finger at McCree and Tracer, but couldn’t disguise the glee in her voice or the twitch of her tattooed eye that gave away her mirth. “We all did great. Winston, good job on the camera placement. Tracer, well done setting up the mistletoe. McCree, fine work convincing him to work out. I think we’ve given the lovebirds plenty to think about. Maybe keep the cameras off them next time they’re alone together, hm?”

 “Actually, captain, I’m fairly certain that it’ll be quite a bit longer before…” Winston cut himself off when Ana glared at him, nervously drumming his toes on the floor of his Swiss laboratory. “Uh, nevermind. I’m glad that this turned out well, and my camera caught it all. Should we delete the footage?”

 Ana tapped her chin, then shook her head. “No, keep it. Not for nefarious purposes, mind you. But it’ll be fun one day, I’m sure. I can imagine Genji and Angela as an adorable and very saucy couple. Those two need to unwind with each other.”

 McCree’s eyes danced between Winston and Tracer, and he mouthed the words Grandma really wants grandkids, huh? Tracer guffawed, then covered her mouth, while Winston just looked confused.

 “Nothing so crass, Jesse.” He gulped and scooted away from Captain Amari, who winked in his direction.

 “Well, if’n that’s all, I’ll be headin’ to the mess. I’m thinkin’ Genji will want some time alone.”

 “Not without me, cowboy! Race ya to dinner!”

 Tracer gave McCree a whole minute’s head start before leaving herself, but Ana and Winston knew it wouldn’t matter. She’d be there in a few seconds.

 “So...matchmaking success?” Winston eyed the camera feed, considering when he next might be able to discreetly remove the bug he’d planted in the hallway.

 Ana patted Winston on the shoulder and nodded, replaying in her head the passionate kiss that Genji and Angela had shared. “Matchmaking success.”