Wild Things

rinse and repeat - avenji

rinse and repeat - avenji

summaries:

his daily routine had changed, hadn't it?

+ overwatch oc week 2017 +

Aven has settled upon a daily pattern of sorts.

In the mornings, he extracts himself from the grip of his blankets that had been tangled around his legs in his fits of nightmarish sleep. (When he does get sleep that is.) He uses his private bathroom, completing his daily cleaning rituals quickly and without distraction. (Being more efficient will assist Overwatch in its budgeting, after all.)

Breakfast is eaten in his room hastily, usually left never finished, before scampering off to Winston's office to do his daily duties. (And certainly not to hide himself from the others.) He stretches out the tasks, creating an easy excuse to not join the others during dinner time. (Mister Winston had made an effort to invite Aven to dinner in the mess hall several times. He has since stopped asking since the second month.) When he has finished, the kitchen is deserted, allowing him free reign to grab what little he wants before escaping to his room. (He tells himself that he does not want to create a mess in the kitchen and that it is not because he is unnerved at the lack of sound in the mess hall.)

At night, the sounds of the waves crashing against the building flows through his opened window. (Miss Athena tells him that he will get sick if he keeps leaving the window opened.) He falls asleep to the hum of electricity that hides behind the walls of his room. (Has Mister Winston placed him next to one of the generators?)

Rinse and repeat.

He tells himself that he likes this, this consistent rhythm. There are no surprises around the bend. (Other than the occasional new recruit or a horribly mangled mission.) Everyday, it is the same, promising a certain comfort to Aven. He is stable.

But similar to the day that they first met, a certain someone always enjoyed destroying Aven's bubble of certainty.

Aven still remembered long ago when he had thought to himself that he would like to see more of this cyborg. Unfortunately, it would seem that someone had heard this rather ignorant desire and granted Aven his wish.

For a ninja that had apparently lost all self esteem, Genji Shimada was incredibly nosy and talkative. The cyborg seemed to spend every single moment of his free time bothering the programmer, whether it be with questions, storytelling, or simply watching Aven work.

Amazingly, the questions had remained rather non-personal, mainly pertaining to whatever Aven may be working on at that moment. But slowly, ever so slowly, those questions slowly shifted their focus onto Aven's personal life. What was his favorite color? What did he like to do in his spare time?

There were a few instances where Aven had made it clear that they were not to be asked about again and surprisingly, the cyborg had accepted, skipping around these touche topics with almost practiced ease.

Every single day that the cyborg came, there was always a single question asked: "Would you like to join us in dinner today?"

Every time, he declined the offer, providing a different excuse each time. It gradually transformed into a game of sorts, to create the most ridiculous story as to why he could not possibly ever make it to dinner with the rest. They grew absurdly long, effectively making Genji late to dinner, which apparently earned him a symbolic slap on the wrist if his complaints the very next day were of any evidence.

He learned that Genji had also lied to him.

One day, Aven had broached the single question of the rumored dragons that he had yet to see and he was damn glad he had asked. They were absolutely remarkable and seemed to have taken a liking to the programmer. While petting it, he had asked Genji if perhaps he used magic. The cyborg had laughed, shaking his head.

"I summon dragons, not rabbits out of a hat."

But that was a lie. A lie. Because Genji had laid a meticulous spell on Aven he had discovered, far too late.

Instead of the muted answers that he usually presented Genji with, Aven had soon started shooting back his own questions and even that somehow shifted into playful banter. It was not long after that before Aven caves one day.

"Would you like to join us in dinner today?"

It was asked with a soft tone, one that had not quite given up yet, but somewhere close. Aven does not blame him.

However, instead of the extensive story that the cyborg expects, there is only silence before Aven cocks his head. He gathers his courage. "What is for dinner?"

Genji tugs Aven along, excitedly sitting the programmer next to him. The others are suspicious of him unsurprisingly, but the cowboy is welcoming. There is a woman from New Zealand sitting next to him, their accents clashing in an intriguing way.

One of the younger recruits greets him. Hana Song? That was her name. She reminds him of himself. The star from Brazil is there as well. A revolutionary rebel fighter.

It takes a few more dinners until the cold front is shattered. For the first time, Aven says something that is not a greeting, but rather a joke. His heart freezes for a split second, believing perhaps he had said something wrong. But the fear his driven away as the room breaks into laughter.

Now his daily pattern has changed.

In the mornings, he extracts himself not from the grip of his blankets, but from a certain cyborg's entangled limbs. (The occurrence of his nightmares have diminished incredibly, although the reason for that is still unknown. Aven's not complaining; the bags under his eyes have been greatly reduced.) He uses his private bathroom, attempting to complete his daily cleaning rituals with the regular precision that he had grown used to. (The cyborg will sleepily drag himself in next to Aven, momentarily distracting him and helping the programmer waste a few more gallons of water.)

Breakfast is eaten in the mess hall now, although it never quite gets finished still, regardless of how much time he wastes there. (It must be something to do with Miss Oxton's antics with the sugar and salt.) He completes his tasks with vigor now, determined to conclude his day of work early so he can spend that extra precious time in the mess hall as they wait for the food. (Winston has been watching Aven work with a smile when he thinks the programmer is not looking.) Dinner is a lively and loud event in the mess hall, often lasting a little more than an hour some days. (Mister McCree tasks himself with nearly being strangled by the Soldier almost every other day doing some obnoxious exercise or another, providing laughter for all.)

At night, he still listens to the sounds of the waves crashing and the electricity that hums behind the walls of his room. (Athena has strangely been lacking in her mini lectures of leaving the window open.) But now there are new sounds that are mixed in.

His whispered words against Aven's skin, breathing that brushes against him, and a heartbeat that informs Aven every night that he is no longer alone.

Rinse and repeat.

+ overwatch oc week 2017 +

[ and here's day two. i'm probably going to be uploading all 7 days and maybe the extra 8th day if i have the time. also going to be uploading several one-shots that i have either written or re-written soon??? dunno fam. dunno.

follow me on ao3 + tumblr + twitter!! (emeralddrop/emeralddrop/fitemematt) ]

- matt