cree's stuff

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‘I want the K’ hit me binch

Send me ‘I want the K’ in the inbox and I’ll generate a number

Status: Accepting!

@sombrc

30: Accidental Kiss

 I understand why ya’ told that drunken buffoon that I was yer BOYFRIEND.  I’m no idiot, ya’ wanted him off yer back.  However…did ya’ have to get that detailed and say I suffered from erectile dysfunction or that my name was Joel

No, one need not reach for a nearby q-tip, Jesse Mccree actually expressed AMUSEMENT towards Sombra making a mockery of the cowboy at his expense.  Alcohol would do that a man, loosen the screws which previously held his inhibitions in a vice-grip.  However, Mccree was not ALONE as Sombra was just as close to viewing the world with a drunken gaze as he was.  Their trek back to her apartment was comically riddled with stumbles and desperate clawing for anything to support their sloppy gait.  Ultimately, Mccree’s brilliant and wasted mind engineered a perfect counterbalance by draping his left arm over her shoulders to support them both.

Initially skeptical over the prospect of spending a week in hell..er..courting Sombra, but Mccree was pleasantly SURPRISED tonight.  She didn’t abuse the situation that hopelessness had shoved him into, the pair had a sumptuous Tex-Mex feast which was unknowingly paid for by someone else’s credit card,.  They also indulged in a couple margaritas, conversed about how much they LOATHED the corporate politics Overwatch/Talon respectively.  By all accounts, the date was….FUN, and Mccree surmised by the genuine laughs bubbling out of her mouth, she was too.  Wait why would Mccree care if she had fun?

While the inebriated pair stumbled through the streets, the helmsman inside his brain spotted DANGER. An umbra-cloaked trash bag that was placed (likely by the apartment owner) a little further out than the rest of its compatriots.  The fact that it blended perfectly with the night and the blood-alcohol levels of Mccree and Sombra….an ACCIDENT was waiting to happen…in a few seconds.  Unfortunately, the rest of the nerve cells were too drunk to heed the helmsman’s warning.

I want ya’ to call me by my real name, not just because it’s my real name.  But ya’ say it in such a…NICE way…Mah-Cree

He never admitted it until just now, but her thick latin accent pronounced his name in such a way that made the skies appear…SUNNY upon hearing it.

Then (though certainly not unforeseen), the Titanic scraped the iceberg.  Mccree’s drunken-march was disrupted because his right leg got snagged by the trash bag and as a result. The cowboy would surely and EMBARRASSINGLY fall on his country ass unless he uses his partner, Sombra as a means to keep him upright.  How?  By clutching her arms as if his life depended on it, and using the laws of Motion, forcing Sombra to have no other choice but to back up against a nearby wall.  A clumsy maneuver to be sure, but EFFECTIVE.

And they said Mccree lacked tact.

What the master tactician didn’t’ take into account was one OMINOUS variable.  Since he was talking, his mouth was open and when Mccree’s chest crashed into hers…well…so did his lips into hers.

It was only for a brief second, but twas not an inconsequential one, for Jesse had his first REAL TASTE of Sombra and she was exactly like that frosted pomegranate margarita they shared earlier.  Unflattering to some, but an utterly INTOXICATING flavor for him.  In fact, the sensation was so overwhelming (likely abetted by the presence of alcohol) that every nerve cells lit up like a squadron of fireworks.

What was left of the estranged-friend named logic finally tapped him on the shoulder, reminding him of the curious position they were in and immediately, Mccree’s eyes popped out of their sockets and he swiftly pulled back with his face smeared BURGUNDY.  Luckily, alcohol also did that to him so there was an excuse at the ready should Sombra share her observations with a glib quip.  Words had to be said (or else Sombra would snatch that baton) and when logic slipped a note in Mccree’s pocket revealing what to say, his tone oscillated between repentance and unabashed.

Sorry ‘bout THAT…I should watch where I’m goin’.

Sombra was charming, she was chancy, she was spicy and he wanted to experience all those flavors AGAIN.