Jack crawled back home very late.
He dumped his bag with his ballet slippers on the sofa on his way to the kitchen, where he took a swig from the water bottle he'd left in fridge, a rather cute bottle with the words "I'm not your father" written in cursive hot pink -a present from the youngsters at the studio.
Then he tiptoed cautiously through the apartment to avoid waking Gabe, who would most likely be asleep, it being three o'clock in the morning and all.
He'd finally been making progress with Angela for their choreography and they'd stayed longer than they had expected too. Angela and her girlfriend Fareeha let him have a very late supper -or was it a very early breakfast- and a shower at their little house near the studio.
But he'd declined staying for a sleepover, anxious to get home and slip between his comfortable and familiar-smelling sheets.
That and seeing Gabriel first thing when he would wake up.
Despite having lived with the man for several years, Jack was still completely besotted with his dark-skinned, muscly partner. Ever since they'd met at the dance academy as young adults, Jack Morrison had been entranced by Gabriel Reyes' strength, grace and creativity in breakdancing.
Jack was sure that he had fallen in love with the man at first sight.
The same man who was, at that very moment, right before his eyes, wearing Jack's ballet tights.
Jack recognised them as his own ballet tights because a) Gabe didn't wear tights, and b) Jack would've known that pair of tights anywhere.
They were a rather hideous affair -everyone else's opinion, not his- that he had received as a wedding gift from Hanzo and Jesse. Even though they were the married couple not him. He never did understand McCree's strange ways, nor did he really want to.
The fact of the matter was that Gabriel Reyes was wearing his hideous tights. And nothing else.
"You're in my tights" Jack murmured.
Gabe swished around suddenly, having surprisingly not heard him come in. He looked decidedly embarrassed.
"May I ask why?" Jack stepped towards Gabriel, making him retreat backwards into the wall, trapped.
"I wanted to feel. To know what they felt like. What it… what it felt like to be a ballerina. Graceful like you" Gabe mumbled, before dropping his head onto Jack's chest to hide his embarrassment.
"Like me? Gabe, you're one of the most graceful dancers there. Ballet or no"
"Huh, you're just saying that Jackie. I know your smooth talking mouth", Gabe smushed into his chest.
Even at their age and experience, doubt could sweep dancers off their feet without the slightest warning. Jack encased his boyfriend solidly in a strong, warm hug.
"You remember the first time I saw you dance?" He whispered to the top of his head. "It was your first time doing your 'Reaper' choreography in front of an audience. I was leaning by the door and by the time you were finished I was holding onto the rail for dear life."
Jack loosely wrapped one arm around Gabriel's waist, the other coming up to hold the back of his neck. "You were the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. You were grace. You were the shadows. You were Death, come to take away my soul. And you never gave it back"
Jack pressed in lips to the corner of Gabe's mouth and headily breathed "Every step you take, every move you make-"
Gabriel jerkily raised his head to frown directly into the taller blonde's eyes. "I'll be watching you? Really"
"No! Wait, I- uh, I meant that… damn it! That's not what I was going to say! I just meant-"
Jack was cut off by Gabriel pulling him down for a quick, eager kiss.
"Now", Gabriel rumbled against Jack's jaw line, "how's about you help me get out of these tights, ballerina?"
Jack dug his fingertips into Gabe's hip and almost growled, until Gabriel finished his statement, heavily pouting and looking deliciously outraged. "'Cause this thing is killing the circulation in my legs. How do you dance in this? How do you even get it on! Get it off me now"
Gabe had to threaten to ignore Jack for the rest of the night to get him to stop laughing. "I've got you in my tights" was Jack's only response.