Actions

Work Header

Whiskey Confessions

Summary:

When the commander asked Cole for a drink, he didn't expect it to go in the direction he thought it did.

Notes:

WARNING, TRANS & BISEXUAL COLE CASSIDY!!! DON'T LIKE DON'T READ!

Work Text:

Cole was sitting in the common room watching some stupid TV show when Gabriel showed up, holding a bottle of whiskey. 

“Hey, Cassidy. Do you want to have a drink?”

“Do you even need to ask, Commander?” Cole laughed, turning off the TV and standing up. “Ya got whiskey? Ya know that’s my favorite.”

“Got it just got you,” Gabriel chuckled. “I knew you’d want some.”

“I love me some whiskey,” Cole walked over to Gabriel, looking at the bottle. “Jack Daniel’s, my absolute favorite brand of whiskey.”

“I know,” Gabriel nodded. “Come on, I got shot glasses for us somewhere around here.”

Cole crossed his arms, watching as Gabriel grabbed the shot glasses down — exactly where he left them last time. 

They sat down at the table as Gabriel both poured them a generous shot. 

“So what’s been up with you, Commander? Any reason ya wanted to drink tonight?” Cole asked, taking the shot.

Gabriel hesitated, swirling his glass before shooting it back. 

“Gabriel?”

“Just been a long week,” Gabriel chuckled weakly. 

“…It’s only Wednesday…” Cole said lightheartedly.

Gabriel leaned back in his chair. “Exactly.”

“Okay, I’ll give you that,” Cole laughed. “It does feel like a pretty long week. I’ve been spending most of it with Angela.”

“Oh? Angela? Don’t you…”

Cole suddenly turned red, blushing intensely. “What do ya mean?”

“Hah!” Gabriel laughed, slamming his fist on the table. “Loverboy has a crush, don’t ya? Dios mío, this is hilarious.”

Cole brushed it off, his embarrassment only growing. “Shut up! It’s not a crush— we’re just— we’re good friends.”

“I’ve seen you staring at her on missions, Cole. You look at her like she’s the most beautiful thing in the world— I honestly don’t get how she hasn’t noticed!”

Cole grabbed himself the bottle and poured himself another generous shot before swinging it back.

“This only proves my point more,” Gabriel rolled his eyes.

“I— Gabe, please,” Cole begged. “We’re… we’re just friends. She doesn’t see me as anything more than— that a stupid guy she’s forced to hang out with sometimes.”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “You really think that?”

“I mean— yeah. What if she’s not into trans guys? I— I mean— It’s just… I don’t think she’d like me like that,” Cole said with a shrug.

“Honestly, I forgot you were trans,” Gabriel said as he poured himself another shot. “I doubt she’ll care.”

“Gabriel, respectfully, as a cis man you don’t understand at all,” Cole sighed.

Gabriel bodded, his expression softening. “Yeah… you’re right, I don’t understand what it’s like to be trans or the fear that comes with it. But I genuinely believe Angela wouldn’t care! She recommended you to a top surgery doctor, did she not?”

“Just because she’s accepting of trans people doesn’t mean she’d be willin’ to date one…” Cole grabbed the bottle and poured himself a shot again, taking it almost immediately.

“It never hurts to try.”

“Last time I tried I stabbed my eye out with a pencil…” Cole nervously laughed.

“Well— that is true, yes…” Gabriel scratched the back of his head. “You were a kid then.”

“Technically still a kid. Seventeen is still considered a minor,” Cole rolled his eyes.

Gabriel laughed. “That’s true, but you’ve still grown since then. Just don’t do any pencil tricks and I think you’ll be fine.”

“Still…” Cole looked down at the empty shot glass.

“Okay, let’s go through a list. What are your main concerns with confessing to her?” Gabriel asked. “We’ll talk about each one and work through it.”

Cole tapped his fingers against the table. “There’s a lot, honestly.”

“Doesn’t hurt to go through them.”

“Okay… Well, we already talked about the first one. What if she’s not into trans guys? Or queer guys— because I’m bisexual. Like maybe— maybe— I dunno…”

“It’s okay to feel that way, but I want you to know that’s irrational. At least the second part. She doesn’t care about people’s sexualities like that,” Gabriel explained. “Plus I’m pretty sure she’s bisexual herself? I could be mistaken,” he added on.

“Okay, so she’s fine with bisexuals. But what about trans guys? It’s not like I have a dick—” 

“Cole, I do not wish to be talking about your gentiles,” Gabriel said, putting a hand up to stop him. “Frankly, that is weird.”

Cole sighed, pouring himself another glass. “Right, yeah. Sorry.”

“No, it’s alright. Just refrain from talking about it again,” Gabriel reassured him. “Now, I understand that’s a fair concern, but I really doubt she cares.”

Cole took a deep breath before taking the shot, not responding to Gabriel.

How could he? In an attempt to reassure him, it just felt like a dismissal of his feelings— which it wasn’t, it just felt that way.

“Cole, c’mon. She probably doesn’t care.”

“That ‘probably’ is what scares me, Commander.” Cole sighed.

“Let’s just— let’s just move on from that, alright? What’s your next concern?”

Cole leaned back in his chair. “Okay, next concern I guess: what if I lose her as a friend? She’s all I have left after I lost Ashe.”

“Finding people your age when you’re in an organization like Overwatch must be hard, yeah…” Gabriel poured himself a drink.

“Yeah, it really is…” Cole said, his voice quiet.

“She cares about you deeply as a friend, I know she does. She always talks about you,” Gabriel said before tagging a swig of the whiskey.

“She does?” Cole perked up. “What does she say about me?”

Gabriel smirked. “Oh, only good things.”

“Oh c’mon, Gabe! Tell me,” Cole whined.

Gabriel chuckled, leaning forward as if to share a secret. “Alright, alright. She says you’re dependable and that you always manage to make her laugh, even on tough days. And she admires your skills— she thinks you’ve got a natural talent for what we do. Even if she doesn’t always agree with our methods.”

“That’s… somethin’…” Cole muttered, not knowing how to feel.

Was Gabriel lying to him? Why would someone like Angela want someone like him?  

He wouldn’t want himself. He was seventeen and already had a strong dependency on alcohol — not an alcoholic though! — and cigars. Which he knew she hated since it deteriorated his health.

So again, why would she wanna be with someone like him? It was perplexing to say the least.

“She cares about you, and even if she doesn’t reciprocate, I don’t think you guys will stop being friends.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yeah, I don’t. But that’s fine. I can make educated estimations with the knowledge I know,” Gabriel sighed… it was obvious he was getting slightly annoyed at Cole’s antics.

“Look, Cole,” Gabriel continued, trying to rein in his frustration. “You can’t let fear dictate your actions. If she values you as a friend, then that foundation is strong enough to handle a little honesty. It might even strengthen it.”

Cole frowned, still unconvinced. “But what if I embarrass myself? What if I make it weird? That’s the other concern I have.”

“Then you apologize and move on! Life’s too short to worry about that stuff,” Gabriel insisted, his tone softening again.

“I— I guess…” Cole muttered. He was already starting to feel inebriated.

“So, are you gonna tell her?” Gabriel cocked his head.

“No. And I don’t want to talk about this any further, I’m sorry,” Cole stood up from the table and began to walk away.

“Oh c’mon, Cassidy! Come back!” Gabriel said but Cole didn’t listen.

He disappeared into his room and sighed, collapsing onto his bed face first.

Cole buried his face in his pillow, the weight of the conversation pressing heavily on his mind. He had hoped that talking about it would help, but now all he felt was a mix of anxiety and embarrassment.

What if he did tell Angela how he felt? Would it ruin everything? He couldn’t shake the thoughts swirling in his head. The whiskey hadn’t dulled his worries; it had only amplified them.

After a few moments, he rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. The room felt too quiet, too still. He wanted to escape those feelings, to drown them out with anything but reality.

Maybe he’d discuss it another day… actually get through with it. Just maybe.