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If I Had a Heart I Could Love You

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Gabriel’s fingers pull down steadily at the zippers on Jack’s leather jacket.

Gabriel’s fingers undo the shoulder harness, pulling it slowly apart, slowly down.

Gabriel’s fingers undo the fly of his pants, then stop and pluck at the straps of his thigh holster.

Gabriel’s fingers and Gabriel’s fingers and Gabriel’s fingers and Jack has his eyes closed because he lost track of how many hands were on him some time ago.


There’s breath on his face and Jack blinks his eyes open to see Gabriel in front of him. It’s dark in here with only occasional bits of light slipping through the cracks in the walls but Jack can still see enough of him. Bright eyed and clean shaven, dogtags around his neck and the tank tops they were all issued when they got to SEP. A dull grey-green that always made Jack look ill but somehow made Gabriel’s skin glow.

Soft touches trace over the scars that cut deep across forehead and cheek, lingering over the one on his lip. When did this happen? he asks pleasantly, curiously.

You were there, Jack wants to say, but Gabriel’s hands are coming from behind him to wrap around the column of his throat and he can’t find breath to speak.

When did you get to be an old man? Gabriel says in the same tone of voice before leaning forward to kiss him gently. Gentle before teeth dig sharply into the scar on Jack’s lower lip and blood starts to drip down his chin. 

Gabriel smiles at him with blood on his young teeth as another Gabriel licks the drips off of Jack’s face. He tries to jerk back at the feeling of a tongue probing the wound but hands hold his head still so Gabriel can suck at his lip and there’s the scratch of a goatee where Gabriel nips down the line of his back and there’s the feel of cold metal as Gabriel’s claws smooth down the hair on Jack’s thighs.

We’re going to have fun, Gabriel says and swallows the blood down before reaching for Jack again.


There’s a tongue licking Jack open and a tongue dancing along the underside of his cock and a tongue stroking in his mouth and a tongue whispering in his ear. 

do you remember what it used to be like Jack it says. 

do you remember how good we were

do you remember how you moaned for me

do you remember do you 

remember do you 


There’s something digging in deep under his shoulderblades and ripping slowly down his back, probably claws but they could be knives for all he knows, those little ones Gabriel would keep tucked in his boots. They go slow and deep, just barely fast enough that his skin doesn’t snag and barely shallow enough to not scrape bone. Jack wants to groan or yell or moan but Gabriel is licking the noises out of his mouth as fast as he can make them and he can’t breathe, the Gabriels won’t let him breathe.

do you remember how I would tie you up and you couldn’t remember why you were screaming

Thighs snug up tight on either side of Jack’s rib cage and press in. Something that he thinks is a cock slides up his back, in one of the grooves cut into his skin. The tongue pulls out of his ass, and fingers dip into the blood pooling at the small of his back. The mouth around Jack’s cock swallows and Jack doesn’t know the difference between pleasure and pain anymore as he comes and comes and comes and the hands around him won’t let him move away as Gabriel still sucks at him, feeding on his oversensitive skin.

do you remember when I died Gabriel’s smooth voice sighs in his ear, and slick fingers work Jack open.


Gabriel’s cock is working its way deeper inside and it’s like he’s being slowly ripped apart. Spit and blood aren’t enough when you haven’t done this in a decade. 

Jack’s thighs are on either side of Gabriel’s and he moans as he sinks down another inch. Hands push down on his shoulders and hands tug down on his hips and a thumb works its way into Jack’s mouth and he gratefully sucks on it, finally able to focus on something that isn’t his body desperately trying to make room for Gabriel.

The thumb pulls back and Gabriel’s cock nudges at Jack’s open mouth, painting his lips. Jack tastes salt and doesn’t know if it’s precome or blood or tears. Doesn’t care, at that. He licks the moisture away, leans forward to take the head into his mouth, run his tongue along under the ridge. He feels a small dent, a hole where a piercing was once.

( Aw I liked it , Jack had said, rubbing his fingers over where the thick ring had entered before exiting out of Gabriel’s slit.

Gabriel’s head had rested on his folded arms, staring at the ceiling a moment before closing his eyes. Gotta be respectable at some point, Jackie.

You’ve been head of a group that no one’s supposed to know about for years and years now, Jack snorts. He flicks a gentle finger at the head of Gabriel’s cock. And exactly who are you being respectable for, here? He doesn’t ask if there’s anyone he should be worried about. Anything he should be worried about.

Maybe he should have.

Gabriel gives a faint smile to the ceiling before pulling Jack down to nestle against his side, kissing him firmly instead of answering.)

Jack gasps as he’s finally sitting on Gabriel’s thighs, the heat of him burning inside. Gabriel takes advantage of his open mouth to push in deeper, deeper, until the corners of Jack’s lips are burning as well. Skin thinned around the width of him, tongue heavy under the weight.

Fingers tug down on his chin and fingers stroke his throat until he swallows and fingers wipe away the tears at the corners of his eyes and voice upon voice tells him how good he’s being, how well he’s doing. 

Jack swallows obediently and leans into the hands and the hands and the hands that cradle him close.


Jack’s thighs are spread so wide the tendons are screaming and Gabriel is working him down on his cock, over and over. There’s Gabriel’s come in there already and some of Gabriel’s too, slicking the way so it’s smooth instead of the glass grit fire of before. 

There’s the cold claws on his shoulders again and they slide almost delicately down to recut the already scabbing slices on Jack’s back. Rivulets run down and stop and run once more in time with Gabriel’s hands forcing Jack’s hips down over and over again. 

it’s a pity we heal so quickly, I want to see those marks last a memory whispers in his ear, on the wrong side of his eardrum.

Jack’s skin shivers like a horse bothered by a fly, the cut nerves jumping. Fingers slide through the blood, soothing over his skin as they get slick enough to move through the sliced edges of raw flesh without resistance. They trace moist lines over his hips, over the muscles of his ass, moving back up to get wet again.

Gabriel’s fingers slide down and down until they’re sliding their slippery way into him right alongside Gabriel’s cock. Jack opens his mouth to either encourage or protest, he doesn’t know which, but another Gabriel’s cock is there in front of him to shove right in and push the words back into his throat.

Jack winces as the heavy ring clicks against his teeth but opens his mouth to take him in deeper as he feels hands spread him wider so the fingers can work their way further in. Another hand tugs at his own cock, over and over until orgasm shudders through him and makes him clench around the growing intrusion inside of him.

He puts his arms down to steady himself and Gabriel’s hands are already there before he can touch the ground, fingers threading into his own.


Gabriel is sliding against Gabriel inside of him and Gabriel is down his throat and Gabriel is rutting in the cuts on his back and it burns as he comes and it drips into the wounds.

Gabriel stops thrusting to pause halfway into Jack’s mouth. The delicate skin under Jack’s lips throbs as his mouth fills with sticky salt. Gabriel stays in there long enough for Jack to swallow, for Jack to pull back far enough to lick the residue away from the spongy head. Jack lets his jaw stay open, lips shiny and sticky, so another Gabriel can slide right in. A little soft, but Jack can get him hard soon enough. Gabriel is always hard for Jack.

Voices talk in his ears, sometimes dark and rough and smokey, sometimes young and sultry, sometimes older and tired. 

you’re so good for me you’ve always been so good for me

do you need a break Jack I can let you rest if you want

let me show you how much I love you Jack how much I’ve always loved you

Jack whimpers around Gabriel’s cock as he comes untouched, a weak spurt of scattered drops that disappear into the sweat and blood and come that already cover everything in a slick sheen. 

His hands flex where his wrists are held by fingers wrapped around his pulse, and opens his mouth for more.


Fingers work steadily, cruelly over his prostate as more fingers hold him open and there’s the wet sound of fingers on flesh until they stop and hot liquid is dripping into Jack.

His hips are held up but his upper body is collapsed down, too scraped raw to hold himself up. Jack’s head rests on a hipbone - a hip that’s bone, covered by strings of flesh that have thinned away to near nothingness, bare tendon stretched over and holding things together. There’s thankfully more flesh where his cock is, there’s enough blood there to get it hard. Jack works a tired hand over the discolored skin as claws stroke through his hair. 

you can do it Jack you can come again

haven’t I been giving you things to drink been feeding you right

come on come for me one more time Jackie one more time

His cock is drooling thick strings of come, massaged out of him by the neverending fingers inside. He knows he’s dehydrated, he isn’t sure when the last time he drank something other than semen or blood or saliva was. 

Jack’s eyes are watering, exhausted tears that run down the side of his unshaven face and land on the yellowed bone beneath. They sink in and vanish, like they were never there. 

His eyes are just barely slitted open, but they slam shut as bright white light floods the room. 

There’s yelling, familiar yelling - and gunshots. Familiar gunshots. 

“Stop goddamn shooting,” he hears. “Close your eyes and don’t breathe in.” 

Something metal hits the floor and there’s a hissing sound. Jack collapses suddenly to the ground as the Gabriel below him and the Gabriels to the side and behind him abruptly vanish. Hands pull him up - fingers too thick and palms too wide to be Gabriel’s. One is wrapped in leather and the other is - metal? Everything seems unreal right now, it might as well be as confusing as possible. He stumbles to his feet, pushed out of the room by figures he can’t see as his eyes are still closed against the light.

They dress him quickly, roughly - pants and boots and jacket, the rest of his halfassed uniform not bothered with. Somewhere in the back of his head Jack shrinks himself down, cutting out the rest of the world - after the chaos of the past few minutes the rasp of his leather jacket over the cuts on his back is one thing, the only thing he can focus on. 

Jack’s back has spikes of pain shoot down it as he jolts down stairs.

Jack’s back screams as a hand presses against it to get him moving through doors and around corners.

Jack’s back heaves as he takes a deep breath of something like relief, pressing back against the seat of a car. The pressure relieves the pain, turns it into a dull ache that fades so his consciousness can come reluctantly forward and take charge again.

He blinks, looks around him. Ana has fingers pressed to the pulse in his wrist, mouth silently moving as she counts. She pulls away, digs in a bag to pull out a diagnostic tablet and start moving it methodically over him. Up in the front, McCree is driving like the hounds of hell are after them, eyes flicking to the rearview mirror every few seconds to look at Jack then Ana then back to Jack again.

The sun is just over the horizon, and Jack doesn’t know whether it’s rising or setting. “What time is it?” he says, and his voice is barely recognizable as human.

Ana looks at him for a moment before looking back down at her tablet. “0700,” she says, and then gives him a date that means nothing to him but seems to be painful for her to say. He doesn’t remember when he entered the building, anyways.

She taps at her tablet, muttering to herself until she sits back in something like relief, something like exhaustion. “He’s clean,” she says, and McCree’s shoulders relax infinitesimally up in the front.

“Do you remember when you went in, what happened?” Ana asks Jack tiredly. He shakes his head. She sighs, tucks a wisp of hair under her scarf. “It was a lab. One of Moira’s. I don’t know what you were looking for, but -” she looks away for a minute. “It was full of - nanites. We don’t know if they were unprogrammed or were once his, but they ended up...programming themselves. Sort of.”

“They’re deactivated now, in any event.” She pulls a needle out of her case, jabs it into the back of Jack’s hand. He doesn’t flinch as she draws a small amount of blood, snapping off the needle and storing the capsule without explaining why. He doesn’t care, in any event. He’s shed enough blood, a little more won’t hurt

Ana turns to Jack, cool fingers turning his head to look her in the eyes. Her brows are drawn in, lines looking deeper than ever around her mouth. “They configured themselves out of what they pulled from your head, Jack.” He pulls his head away gently and she lets him go immediately.

“They would have allowed you to go anytime you wanted. They were - they weren’t real. Like illusions, but physical.” She rubs her forehead, obviously unsure of how to phrase things. “Like low level omnics that you programmed.” Ana sighs, quieter as she looks out the window at the landscape whipping silently past. “They would have let you go.”

She’s saying things, things about how it wasn’t his fault. Things about how she was lucky to run into McCree to help track him down after Jack didn’t get back to her and she had a bad feeling. Things about how she’d been halfway across the world, dodging shotgun blasts and smoke while Jack was here, while Jack was - 

do you remember, Jack? Gabriel’s voice says silkily in his ear. 

Jack says nothing and closes his eyes.