"Do you really think that's a good idea?" The way Winston peered over his glasses at him almost made Jesse laugh. The southerner put up both hands placatingly and attempted an expression of absolute confidence, even if his actual amount was closer to none than the former.

"As far as I can tell, he's got one real interest in the entire world, one I think we can make work for us." the primate laid down the data pad he'd been working with, turning from his work station to pad over to his comrade. When they were almost eye-to-eye, the scrutiny was far more obvious.

"It's too early, McCree. You've done a lot with him in a short time span, but I don't see enough progress to warrant that much freedom. I appreciate the strides you're willing to take for the mutual benefit, but I think you need to take a step back." Jesse's thumbs looped into his pockets, head tilted with a sigh and a crooked set to his lips that shifted from side-to-side.

"He's frustrated. We've put him through the wringer recently. If not lettin' him use the workshop, what do you suggest?" At that Winston sighed, settling himself on a cushion at the head of a table where he pulled up a hologram. The structure was a sleek, windowless box, mostly featureless save for a door that almost blended with the side and the numbers four-three painted just above the frame. "He never struck me as the type for that."

"You never know. Just get him to try it a few times. Maybe he'll enjoy it."

He was rolling his jaw. It was a new tell Jamison had noticed when Lucio was thinking rather intensely about something. He could see it from across the break room, even around Hana and Lena's rather flamboyant style of playing Soul Caliber. The DJ's eyes were set off towards a random wall next to the television with a lightly furrowed brow, only losing the expression momentarily when someone addressed him. He was aware enough to interact with. He would've done so gladly had the girls not been between the two of them and had he not given the group a generous buffer. The Junker opted to lean over the back of the couch and watch a good few spaces down, keeping at least a cushion between Hana's shoulder and Hanzo's. The elder Shimada was watching with his own jaded interest, seemingly with nothing better to do.

The blond turned back to the screen just in time to see Lena's custom character clutch and get a win on Hana's, though the smaller girl still had an extra round on her and a good gap in skill level. Even so, she seemed pretty excited. The next round started just as the others had, though- with Oxton's character being ruthlessly juggled. Sensing the return to the same song and dance, Junkrat glanced back in Lucio's direction and hoped no one saw him nearly jump out of his skin. The glance was almost pointedly returned. There was no expression in it and that was the worst part as the DJ's expression was often blessed by a smile or something of the soft persuasion. That expression, however, was just... blank. Stoney and empty for the single minute it was tossed in his direction. Was he upset?

Hana finally ended the last round against her foe, putting down her remote with a smile and a cheery "good game," which drew the Brazilian out entirely. His face finally produced an expression; however, the smile was far too strained... painfully so. "Do you wanna play?" Hana asked, offering a remote to her friend. Lucio put up a hand in refusal, trying to loosen his polite grin.

"Nah. I got something I need to go do, actually. Rain check, though." The Korean nodded and looked in the other direction, catching Hanzo's gaze and willfully ignoring the silent request not to address him.

"How about you?" The older man's head-shake was stern and slow, face not faltering from its default grump. Hana insisted, however, which seemed to give Lucio the window he was waiting for to slide around the couch and out the door of the break room. Jamison followed. The DJ wasn't running from him. He couldn't have been if he let Jamison catch up so easily, even with his newly wobbly and uneasy gate. He had to have been the only person he knew that struggled to stand upright on two perfectly capable feet. Still, he leered around Lucio's straight-forward stare and did well enough to keep an almost equal pace (save for a trip or two, of course. He needed to constantly remind himself that having an actual foot meant his right leg needed more room going sideways.)

"Wassa matter?" That at least made the other look at him. What started as a glance became a double-take and the second look became one of consideration. Again, none of this seemed angry or irritated. It was just distant. "Hm?" Junkrat tried prompting, forcing himself to slide a bit on the tile when Lucio stopped suddenly. Hell, he just about fell over. The stare continued for but a minute longer before Jamison realized that they were on the living hall.

"I needed to get away from them," the Brazilian finally breathed, letting a crack of something escape the stone-like resolve. "I mean, I... They're great, I just..."

"I know. I know. Ya dun gotta explain it to me, cobber. You, uh..." He looked at the door he was inadvertently blocking. "...Wanna be alone?"

"No."

"Right. Do ya wanna be away from me?"

Lucio shook his head as he repeated himself with almost the same certainty. "No." Junkrat hummed and put his hands in his pockets.

"Wot, then? You okay?" Blood hell, he was sounding like a mother hen. Lucio slipped around him and opened his door, stepping inside before looking back at the Junker expectantly. It was innocent as all hell for sure, but Junkrat swore mentally at his mind for seeing it for more than what it would ever be. He followed the other and had the door close behind them. At that point, the taller man became acutely aware that he'd never seen another person's living quarters and hadn't taken the time to build expectations for the Brazilian's own space. Still, what he saw didn't surprise him much. Posters of musicians and bands lined the walls from the door to the desk across the room to the right. Green and yellow Christmas lights were wound around one another and tapped to the ceiling along the edge of the room and Lucio opted to flip the switch on them rather than turn on the actual room lights- a obvious choice as the small bulbs gave off a armer, less harsh glow than the sterile LEDs overhead. Two crochet blankets covered the bed in the center of the room, one large enough to fit the entire mattress and of spicy brown and reds while the other was more of a throw across the foot and made from grays and black. They both appeared to be lovingly hand-made. 'A mother's touch,' he thought.

Lucio sat down on the foot of the bed and pulled the muted throw over his crossed legs. He seemed to practically hug the bunched fluff. Jamison made his way over and pushed aside some of the blanket to sit on the actual bed next to the other. It was then that he noticed the shaking. It had to have been instinct, but Jamison instantly reached his left hand over and splayed it across Lucio's shoulder in a distant, yet comforting, touch- a touch the smaller leaned into as though wanting, even scooting closer to encourage more than that, but Jamison forced a limit on the situation. He didn't want to deal with the voice in the back of his head any sooner than he had. Even in spite of the obvious buffer Junkrat was trying to keep, however, the Brazilian circumvented his guard and snuck his head onto Jamison's shoulder in a tired huff. Not long after the closer proximity had been achieved, though, Lucio retreated back. He was satisfied with but a moment, a blessing to say the least.

"I didn't know if I was going to have a break down or something..." The smaller man finally admitted. "I just started feeling really panicked and didn't want to worry them."

"Mmm. Yeh. You been seein' the doc' an' all?" Lucio nodded. "What she say?"

"She says I'm overworked and am suffering an 'acute stress response.' I don't get it, though... I've been through worse." Jamison touched the pads of his fingers to the new, far too shiny tips of his right hand... Would he ever get used to seeing it on his body?

"Kinda funny sometimes, ya know... Blasted me own leg off as a kid, didn't suffer much up here..." He tapped his right temple. "...But when someone I lived with died, I started gettin' like you a bit. There was one day 'bout a week in where I couldn't leave because I felt like I was on the verge 'a tears for hours. Finally broke 'round sunset and cried 'till early mornin'. It was a weird time fer me."

"I knew that had to have been it..." the other mumbled almost sub-vocally.

"Wazzat?"

"Sorry... Why you were so concerned, I mean... So understanding. I guessed you knew what was going on and took pity on me."

"No, not pity..." He stopped and bit the inside of his cheek. "Okay, yes, pity- but thas not just it... Least I dun think so." The Brazilian laughed and finally let the throw slip from his fingers.

"We're both clueless, then."

"No, not clueless. You may be, but I got a good hold on me motivation."

"Right. Everything on your end has ulterior motives. I forgot." Jamison nudged the other with his elbow, noting the gentle smile that graced his lips.

"Dun apply what I said to everythin', mate. Jus' 'cause I'd like a shag dun mean everythin' I do is me tryin'a get it. Hmf. Still, yer takin' the whole thing weirdly well. Dun that make it weird fer you?"

"Kinda... But I just figure that I interact with people who think of me like that all the time... You're just the only one with the balls to be that forward." Junkrat had to give the guy props: he was one smooth operator. He had taken Jamison's entirety in stride, tossing back what was thrown to him like an absolute pro and only letting it get to him really once. Even with his current emotional stress, Lucio had proven himself far more capable than Jamsion could ever hope to be. 'You really are impressive, Treefrog.'

Lucio found himself far less at peace with himself. Inside, the smaller man was screaming from wall-to-wall, one anxious sensation giving way to something entirely new and seemingly far worse... maybe. He clasped his hands together under the throw blanket. 'Why the hell did you want to be around him of all people? No, he's not horrible... but you have people you're actually really close to around here... Friends.' He paused, noting that Junkrat was also looking off as though lost in thought. 'He's not a friend... He can't be with all the shit floating around between us... But... You like him, don't you? You confide in him? Do fun stuff with him? You're willing to work around the flaws... Help him learn. Is time the only issue here?' No. He considered Hana a friend after only knowing her two weeks, Lena a friend in around the same time... Genji one in even less and Zenyatta almost instantly. Time wasn't an issue. It had never been an issue with him. He considered himself a good judge of character and trusted himself when he chose to like somebody... Yet he liked Jamison, but was reluctant to call him a friend... It had to have been the eccentricities, the quirks... the assholishness sometimes, right?

'Hanzo's an asshole all the time and you still see the good in him.' He did see good in Jamison. Of course he did. He fought tooth and nail to make it even this far with the Aussie and get him to relent from his firm stance that everyone was an asshole inside. He was sure Junkrat still believed it, but at least he wasn't forcing it as a quick way to judge people anymore. Silent pessimism was better than the alternative. Lucio looked at the other with a new sense of purpose, eyes tracing the blank expression that was still lost in thought, heedless of the attention on it. Long, pointed nose... thin face... eyes a little gaunt... Brow very pronounced... Sharp jaw; yet, light freckles and a beauty-mark here and there; bright, enthusiastic eyes, surprisingly smooth skin, high cheek bones, strong chin... A lot of features he hadn't taken the time to really appreciate until then. Now a few weeks clean with a good diet and access to plenty of hygiene products, Jamison almost looked his age. The difference was... suddenly startling. The amber eyes darted to him and he knew it was too late to look away as though he wasn't staring. He merely offered a warm smile.

"Wot?"

He shook his head. "Just thinking." That answer was acceptable without any further prodding, evidently, as Jamison hummed and looked back down at his hands. His new arm was leagues nicer than the old one, if Lucio was honest, though the new leg and instructions to stop slouching only made the smaller man all too aware of the other's incredible stature. They were still the base-coat chrome, though... Would Jamison have them painted? A sudden spur dug into Lucio's side and jolted him up from the bed. He let the throw drop to the floor as he crossed to his desk and rummaged around the drawers with intent. Jamison watched as he walked back with what looked like an oddly-shaped strip of paper. The Junker realized too late that said paper was a sticker as Lucio had shucked off the packaging and slapped the adhesive side to the smooth length of his new prosthetic arm. It was one of his own brand stickers that he gave to younger fans when he met them on the street, but he figured it was something fun for Jamison to use. It was his little frog logo with the headphones in neon green. Upon seeing it, the Junker laughed heartily... Honestly, the shrill chortle was starting to grow on him.

"Well, ta, then. Was gonna paint it er somethin' but that works." Lucio offered a toothy grin that was far too wide- but all genuine- in response. "Ya cheeky dag. Callin' me a dork, were ya?"

"Well, it takes one to know one, right?" They laughed at each other... and then it hit him... One answer that finally satisfied him... just as much as it terrified him. The suddenness of it made him not realize at all when his smile dropped and he stared blankly at a very confused Jamison who cocked his brow and let his own lips drop in sideways wonder. It didn't take long for him to understand, though... And... for once... the voice in his head, the one that chastised him violently, put him down venomously and denied him things permitted to a normal man, said something almost... like encouragement.

'You've already fucked this up beyond redemption, you drongo. Might as well.' Should he really start listening to it now? Did not listening to it even yield good results? He let himself focus on the other and there was something in his expression, the tiny wince in his eyes. Lucio laughed and that wince became a silent plea. 'Please, please PLEASE do it for me.' The laugh and subsequent wide, nervous smile was entirely mirrored, though probably looked a lot less adorable on Jamison. Fuck... He needed to save himself from this awkward hell. His tone shifted to that of a tease, his lower lip poking out. "Aww. Do I need to go first again?" Boy, did the Brazilian take the bait. With a competitive scowl, the smaller took a tight hold on Jamison's pliant collar and yanked him down. They met half-way without hesitation in terms of motion, but the actual kiss was far less fluid. Teeth met teeth momentarily and they adjusted their position two or three times before they remembered what their teenage years had taught them with embarrassment. Even when they got back into it like they HAD actually kissed another human being prior to their mid twenties, the contact didn't last nearly as long as one of them would've liked. Of course Lucio was a little more chaste in that regard. Jamison should've expected that... still.

"Heh," Lucio seemed to almost not believe what had just happened, still holding the fabric tightly in his right hand. "Not, uh... Not sure where I was going with this," he admitted. The other shrugged and prodded forward again. This time, he leaned over the smaller man and was a little more forceful. He wouldn't push for anything beyond lip-to-lip, but little bit of edge to it made him at least a little more complacent. His lips were so soft... So smooth and warm... He hadn't had anything quite like it , his first being against chapped skin and others down the line being similar or caked in some form of cosmetic that only smeared and made his face feel gross afterwards. By a massive margin, practically a canyon, it was the best kiss he'd ever experienced.

Maybe for Lucio wasn't as enjoyable. At that thought, he pulled back with the intent of breaking the contact, but felt his heart leap when the other chased him a bit before letting them pull apart. Shyness in the smaller came back with a vengeance, though, and the Brazilian got to his feet. He stumbled as he backed up, almost falling over the throw blanket with a laugh. "Uh, heh... C-can we, um... Meet up again later? To talk about all this, I mean. My nerves are too shot for anything else right now." All of that was expressed with an undertone of laugher and a complete lack of composure that looked far too good on him. As much as Jamison would've loved to milk it, he supposed he'd done enough for the time being.

"Yeh. Prolly got somethin' to do, anyway." He crossed the floor, slipping past the other in an awkward shuffle with wide smiles and absolutely flaming cheeks. Jamison managed to slip out the door backwards and close it with surprising efficiency. Any more awkwardness would've killed him, he thought... That was until he saw the little blue light in the keypad next to the door... a little eye-ball he'd all but forgotten existed, one that pointedly watched him everywhere he went... seeing everything he did. Athena's voice chimed into the stand-off with an almost insulting sweetness.

"McCree would like to see you in hangar five."

'Bloody hell.'

AN~ Figured I made everyone wait long enough.