Almost Flat Broke - Overwatch: Junkrat/Roadhog

AU - Jamie sells fireworks from a van and Mako is his muscle. 

CW: Fire, mentions of homelessness

 

At night the van sat in a beachside parking lot. It looked abandoned, rust and dents badly hidden beneath layers of gaudy orange spray paint. The inside looked no better, the original beige interior covered in colourful stains and packed full of boxes.

Jamison lies in bed, listening to the sound of raindrops drumming against the roof as he stares at his phone. Tapping through various social media apps gives him a couple of people looking for fireworks, another looking for his help with their chemistry exam. Mako's Instagram shows a picture of a beautiful potato curry, followed by a string of hashtags talking about how delicious and well-made it was.

It makes Jamie's stomach growl. Dinner's probably important, but he can't be arsed to drag himself out to buy something from a takeaway place tonight. Fried eggs on toast would do, even if he couldn't quite remember when he'd bought the eggs and the bread was growing patches of blue mould.

The half-finished fireworks on his table were shoved onto the floor, the camping stove coming alive with a hiss, casting shifting shadows across the van. Cracking the eggs into a pan, it took barely a minute before his mind began to wander.

He'd first met Mako at a bar, drunk enough to think it was a good idea to shove a roll of cash into a hot bouncers hands and ask him to quit his job. God only knew why Mako had agreed, giving up the night shift to hang out with Jamie and occasionally stop someone punching his lights out. Okay, frequently. Master of explosives he might be, master of sales he wasn't.

Pulling out his phone he flicked though Mako's Instagram. Food, the ocean, a rare picture of Mako himself, sitting astride his bike. Relaxed, but perfectly in control. It made Jamie's chest ache in a way he was all too familiar with.

He'd picked Mako up to protect him, but when they'd started becoming friends it had become harder and harder to say goodbye at the end of the day. They'd sometimes go out for meals in the evenings but when it was over he'd be left with that ache in his chest, The ache had started to creep in even when they were together, whenever Mako actually laughed at one of his jokes, in the rare moments where Mako would tell him stories about his past. Even when they were both quiet, sat at the edge of the beach as he watched Mako watch the waves.

The sharp scent of burning jerks his mind back into focus, scrambling to save his quickly blackening eggs. In his panicked flailing, his elbow slams against the stove, sending it spinning across the counter and out of his desperate grasp. Time seems to slow as it falls, flames trailing behind.

Jamison's self-preservation skills had never been the best. His missing leg would attest to that. A lifetime of doing bold and dangerous things for attention had left him with a reputation as someone who didn't have any survival instincts whatsoever. But for the first time in his life, something clicked, and he was halfway across the lot before his brain caught up.

It's a miracle nothing hits him, fireworks spiralling across the lot and into the sky, boxes of materials blasting apart. Stamina drained, he slumps against a concrete wall to watch the show.

Eyes wide, it feels like he's in some sort of trance, watching the flames change from colour to colour. Like it was just something on TV, like he wasn't there watching his life burn away. He jumps and giggles at each new blast, feeling the heat of the fire of his skin even through the rain.

People begin to trickle into the lot, making panicked phone calls to police and fireys. Nobody notices Jamison pulling himself upright, slipping away as quickly as he can. The last thing he needs is another arson arrest.

There’s a few people who'll probably let him crash at their place, just had to make it to them. He doesn't feel injured, but everything is spinning like he has a concussion. Where is he going again? The world around him fades out. He can't hear the rain, just the pounding of his own heartbeat. Barely feels his knees hitting the pavement, clutching at the ground as he pulls in desperate breaths. He's really fucked up this time…

It feels like an eternity before something solid touches his back. A low rumble tries to tell him something, the calming thread something his mind can hold onto, slowly pulling him back from the grey.

"Jamison?"

Mako's face comes into focus, watching him with concern. The hand gripping his shoulder is steady, making Jamie realise just how badly he's shaking. They're both soaked through, kneeling on the ground as sirens wail in the distance.

Jamie wants to talk, wants to splutter out his thanks and plead for Mako to stay with him for now, at least for tonight. He clings to Mako's arm like a lifeline, as Mako pulls him closer.

"Let's go."

Seven months earlier Mako had been working at a club, leaning against the brick wall and counting down the hours. Less than an hour to go, no-one was trying to get inside anymore. Every now and then a group of people would burst out of the door, clinging to each other as they staggered back to hotels.

He barely noticed when a slight figure slipped out of the door, collapsing against the wall next to him with a dramatic sigh. "Don't mind me, just takin' a break."

Mako grunted in response, sizing him up. Enough of a regular that Mako knew his face, probably wasn't looking for trouble. Outfit barely passed the dress code, sooty eyeliner not quite covering the bruising beneath. He didn't seem to be out here to smoke, just leaning against the wall and watching Mako.

The heavy bass from the club filled the silence, muffled and distorted through the walls.

The guy leant forward, orange eyes trying to meet Mako's. "So... You work here long?"

When Mako didn't answer he kept talking, a frown starting to form between his heavy eyebrows.

"Just askin' because I've always wondered what it's like to be a bouncer, I mean it can't be fun standing outside while everyone else is inside havin' a good time. Does it pay well?"

Was this guy looking for a job? He didn't look particularly intimidating. Scrappy maybe.

"Or do you get a bunch of people leaving who desperately want to go home with the tough guy who's been on their mind all night? Name's Jamie by the way."

What, he'd struck out in the club and decided to try his luck on the first person he saw outside?

Mako rolled his eyes. "Three years. Pays enough."

Jamie looked delighted to finally get an answer, grin widening.

"Do you enjoy it, though?"

Did anyone enjoy their job? Would anyone enjoy standing outside a garbage club all night, dealing with a bunch of kids who didn't know the difference between one drink too many and permanent liver damage?

"Not really."

The guy was suddenly right in front of him, one hand clutching something inside his ratty denim vest. Mako grabbed him on instinct, slamming him against the wall and pinning him there.

The metal leg kicked at his shins, not in a position to do much damage. "Oi! I'm not gonna pull a knife or anything, just, check my inside pocket."

Holding him still as he shoved a hand into the jacket, ignoring Jamie's nervous laughter. He soon found what he was looking for, pulling out a roll of cash that looked big even in his massive hands.

"How'd you like a change of careers?"

They'd walked away from the club together, heading towards the beach. The ocean glittered in the morning light, practically begging to be swum in. Mako watched the waves as his new partner talked, trying to convince him that really, this was going to be the best job he'd ever had.

"It's simple enough. I sell fireworks, you keep me company and stop anyone trying to mess with me while I work. Some people get upset about payin' full price for a good quality product. The fireworks are also illegal, should mention that."

---

Jamie's never been to Mako's flat before. He's never asked to visit, and Mako's never Invited him over. That's fair, Mako probably needs his own space, and if Jamie was allowed to just visit whenever, he'd probably never leave.

Mako pushes him towards a worn sofa and he sits obligingly, sinking into it. Mako keeps walking, through a low room divider into what seems to be the kitchen. Jamie takes the opportunity to look around the room, examining Mako's space.

It's cluttered, but not quite messy. If he didn't know Mako the decor would feel disjointed, simple metal furniture covered with plants and wooden carvings. A tiny porcelain pig sits in front of the tv, and there's and a giant stuffed pachimari that looks like-

He spares a glance to Mako in the kitchen before sliding off the sofa. The pachimari sinks under his touch, a giant beanbag. He grins at the thought of his super tough bodyguard relaxing on this. How did he carry it home on the bike? Another poke before he climbs onto it, making sure not to get his prosthetic caught on the soft fabric.

It's big enough for him to curl up comfortably, on the verge of falling asleep. The tyre shaped clock on the wall reads 2 AM, he's lucky Mako bothered to come and get him this late.

"I said to wait on the sofa."

Mako's voice is a steady rumble, always difficult to know if he's actually annoyed or not. Unwilling to take the risk, Jamie quickly scrambles to get back onto the sofa, flashing a bright grin at his host.

The mug that's pushed into his hand is warm, his nose wrinkles at the strong floral scent. He curls around it as Mako sits beside him, holding a mug of his own. "What happened?"

"I saw the plush and thought—"

"To the van."

"Oh." There probably wasn't a good way to say 'I was making dinner while swooning over pictures of you, and accidentally burnt my house down.' Mako was still waiting patiently for his response. "Blew up. My fault, trying to cook and started a fire, which ya can imagine didn't end well." He perked up. "Some of it's probably alright, though, we could fix it up, tow it with your bike?"

"We couldn't, and the police will probably take it anyway."

Ah, trying to get it back from the police would lead to too many awkward questions.

"Roight. Well, it's not the first time I've completely ruined my life." The tea scalds his mouth. "Probably won't be the last."

They sit in silence, sipping their drinks. Mako breaks it first, with a heavy sigh.

"It's not the end of the world—"

"For you maybe! I've just lost everything I own because I fucked up frying some eggs!"

Dread starts to sink in. He really has lost everything. His fireworks, his clothes, his life savings, his home and job in one night.

"I needed that van. Got kicked out of my first apartment, couldn't get a second. Stayed where I could for a few years, trying to get a place of my own. Then when I saw the van for sale, that was it. Didn't need to worry about paying rent or messing up the place. Just a place I could, exist, I guess."

Mako takes his empty cup with a sigh, soon returning with a blanket and pillow. "You can exist here for now. Get some sleep."

He didn't feel like he'd slept, more like he'd blinked and he was suddenly sitting next to Mako at the table. Had they been talking?

Soon enough he's lying in Mako's huge bathtub, giving himself more of a scrub down than he's had in years, better than using the public showers by the beach. The edge of the bath is lined with bottles, and he takes satisfaction in covering himself in most of them. The bathwater is black by the time he pulls the plug; pushing himself out of the tub and onto the floor.

Mako has left him some clothes to wear, and he lifts them with a frown. A shirt for some metal band he'd never heard of and a pair of sweatpants that looks like they're going to swamp him. No underwear, probably for the best.

He tugs them on, examining himself in the full-length mirror. As much as films try to pull off oversized clothing being cute or sexy, he just looks ridiculous. He pulls the shirt halfway up his chest, knotting it into a crop-top. Better. Maybe Mako would let him hack the pants into shorts. Drying his hair leaves it sticking out at weird angles, somehow emphasising his bald spots instead of hiding them.

Nothing Mako hasn't seen before, but he still feels nervous. Sure, Mako has said he could stay for a while, but it was probably just until he can find somewhere else, and who knew how patient Mako was going to be?

Music is playing when he stepped out into the living room, some growly rock track. They should go to karaoke sometime, Mako might not talk much, but he has a hell of a voice. Mako himself is on the sofa, reading a book and glancing up every few seconds like he's waiting for Jamie to say something.

"M'done." Obviously. Forcing a smile on his face he perches next to Mako, fingers digging into the sofa. "So. Let's talk business."

"I wasn't aware we still had one."

Ouch, that hurt. It was true, but... "We do! We've just gotta take a break for now. We're having a, thing, a refurbishment. Soon enough we'll be back, better than ever!"

Mako doesn't look convinced, Jamie doesn't blame him.

"I'm not expecting ya to help with this, if we're not working I can't pay you, and that's not fair. I'll figure something out."

"If you need help, ask." Jamie is already starting to protest. "It's not like I've got anything else going on, and working with you wasn't the worst job I've ever had."

Jamie ends up at the table, tearing pages out of a notepad and writing on them before putting them into place. It's easier than trying to keep everything in his head, thoughts have a tendency to vanish on him as soon as he moves onto the next one.

It's a difficult problem to solve. he can probably afford a place of his own once they started selling again, but he'll still have trouble getting a place. It seems like he'd been on some kind of 'do not rent to' list after getting kicked out his first place, and not having a legal job and a criminal record certainly doesn't help.

Plus, without the cover of the van, he doesn't have anywhere to sell from. Cops will notice if he sells openly, there's no storage on Mako's bike. Saving up to buy another van would take a while, and what could he do until then? Even the cheapest hotels would drain his money.

He's still scribbling notes when Mako leaves to get food.

"Want me to get you anything?"

Had to be something cheap, wasn't fair to spend Mako's savings.

"Maybe just some ramen? I practically live on the stuff." There. Five packs for a dollar.

When Mako returns he's immediately pounced upon. "Did ya get me some food?"

"Got stuff for ramen."

Jamie squints at the bags, which seem to contain more vegetables than brightly coloured packets. "Not the instant stuff?"

"Nah, gonna make it. You good to help?"

"Yeah! Of course, what needs doing?"

He follows Mako into the kitchen, watching as he sets out what's needed, vegetables washed and placed by a wooden board. "Chop these up while I start on the broth."

Taking a large knife from the rack, Jamie fidgets with it as he looks over the vegetables. Doesn't recognise one of them, so he pulls the spring onions onto the board. The knife hovers above them, moving along their length as he tries to figure out where to start cutting. Do they want those leafy bits or the stem? Should he cut it into circles or strips?

He should know this. He's a fully grown adult who'd lived alone for years, how does he not know how to cut spring onions?

He scratches at his neck, watching Mako grate ginger into a pan.

"How do you want me to cut these?"

"However you want."

He can't do it wrong, that would be a waste of the ingredients.

Fuck it. If Mako didn't already know he was a human disaster this wouldn't be the thing that tipped him off. "Mate. I don't know how to do this."

The pan clatters, then there's a sudden wall of warmth surrounding him as Mako stands behind him, taking his hands and moving them into the proper position. "For these you keep the knife touching the board, move the onion as you chop..."

Jamie tries to do as he's told, movements slightly stiff. Mako being pressed against his back is a distraction he isn't sure how to cope with. The places where their skin meets seems to burn, but he doesn't want to pull away, he just wanted to drop the knife and pull Mako into a hug that will last for weeks.

He settles for giggling nervously. "Never really cooked like this before, from ingredients I mean. Think the most I've ever done is frying stuff."

Physical contact has never been a regular thing for him. People usually avoid touching him as a weird filthy adult, he hadn't let anyone near him as a teen, and any memories of his childhood are decidedly foggy.

Carefully slicing through the carrots and bok choy under Mako's instruction he begins to relax, leaning back against the soft stomach. The heat flowing from Mako warms him to the core, making him feel like a lizard basking in the sun.

Alternating between staring and being hugged probably isn't the best kitchen practice, but he feels like he's learning something cooking with Mako. The delicious smell of the broth is making him drool, and he suspects he'd never be able to eat instant ramen again without comparing it to this.

By the time it's being served he's literally bouncing with excitement, stomach growling. Mako shoos him towards the table, placing the bowl in front of him. It's probably the best-looking meal Jamie's ever had, and he devours it, broth splashing down his front as he slurped up the noodles.

"This is the best thing I've ever eaten."

Mako doesn't respond, but there's a slight upturn to his lips which Jamie can only assume indicates wild delight.

"Seriously, where'd you learn to cook like this?"

"Used to help my mum in the kitchen a lot when I was a kid, took over cooking for the family when I was older. Oldest sibling, working parents, it happens. How did you never learn?"

"Just, didn't happen, I guess? Place I lived growing up had a cook, then when I had a kitchen I didn't know what to do with it, and there's not much you can cook in a van."

"Your parents well off then?" Jamie stares at him blankly. "If you had a cook?"

He laughs. "Nah mate, grew up a foster home. It wasn't too bad." Not that he really remembers, it was like his brain had wiped the place away as soon as he'd left. "Anyway, tell me about your family, you never even told me you had siblings."

They move to the sofa, splitting a six-pack as Mako speaks about his family back in New Zealand. The eldest of five, he'd moved away for work and just never returned. "We stay in contact, I sometimes go back for holidays."

Jamie fills his part of the conversation with funny stories about his time living with friends after leaving the home, mostly involving alcohol.

He's learnt more about Mako in two days of living with him than he has in months of working together, and the thought makes him smile, even as Mako leaves for bed.

Jamison is a shitty roommate.

Mako hadn't really thought about it when he'd let him stay, but Jamison had the casual messiness of someone who's never learnt how to keep things clean. He's happy to do chores, eager to help out whenever Mako gives him instructions, but it never seems to occur to him to tidy up after himself, leaving plates and wrappers around until Mako tells him to put them away.

He enjoys the food Mako makes at least, never complaining about the lack of meat. Cooking is the only time his eagerness to help is a little annoying, it's faster to make things himself than take the time to show Jamie how to do each little thing. At least it's a good life skill for Jamie to know when he moves out.

If he moves out. He'd be happy for Jamie to move in permanently, maybe they could clear out the box room and squeeze in a bed. If not, his bed is easily big enough for both of them.

Their days together have a pattern now, Jamie 'helping' in the kitchen, carefully watching Mako and following his instructions. They eat, talking about their days, or what parts of their pasts they're willing to tell. When they were finished they'd move to the sofa, sitting at opposite ends and choosing a film. At some point they shift, Mako sinking into the leather with Jamie leaning against his side, fiddling with one of Mako's rings as he stares at the screen.

It would have to change at some point, Mako's money is slowly running out. He owns the flat at least, doesn't have to worry about paying rent, but groceries and bills are slowly draining away his savings. He'll have to look at getting another job, maybe see if Jamie can get one too.

It's not long before Jamie can recreate the pattern of Mako's ceiling in his sleep. Or, he could if he could stay asleep for that long.

He's still having trouble sleeping, waking with a jolt and a sense of dread every couple of hours. Maybe he's just not doing enough, his usual long days of fireworks creation and selling replaced with sitting and watching TV.

Lying on the sofa, fingers twitching with the desire to destroy something. Can't break any of Mako's stuff, can't start a fire or get into a fight.

He can hear Mako snoring in the other room, and he desperately wants to seek him out, curl up next to him. Even if it doesn't help him sleep, the thought of lying awake seems more appealing next to Mako. Cursing at himself, he buries his face in his hands.

Can't he just be grateful? Mako let him stay in his house instead of just ditching him, gave him food and friendship and all he can do was wish for more.

He rolls off the sofa, pulling on his limbs before sneaking towards where the toolbox is kept. Has to be quiet, it's right next to Mako's bedroom. It doesn't take him long to find a boxcutter, even while pausing every few seconds to make sure the snores from the other room are undisturbed.

Around to the kitchen, where he flips on the light and pulls some empty beer cans from the bin. Sitting at the table he begins to slice them open, carving into the soft metal. Shapes, letters, flowers with bent petals, a pig he'll give to Mako later and a heart that's quickly sliced into strips.

There's something soothing about the work. No time to let your head fill with panic when you're focusing on creation. It's the same feeling that he gets when making fireworks, without the ember of danger. Just him, the knife, and the metal.

By the time he's run out of cans to cut the sun is up, and he still feels like garbage. He scoops up everything but the pig, dumping it into the bin. He's pacing up and down the living room when he hears Mako's voice through his bedroom door. On the phone maybe?

It's five more lengths of the room before Mako finally emerges, still in his boxers and nightshirt. "Hey."

"Mornin' mate!" He bounds towards the kitchen, picking up the pig and offering it to Mako. There's a long pause before Mako takes it, holding it close to his face as he examines it.

"Made it last night, thought you might like it. No worries if you don't, though! It's just trash so-"

"Thank you."

Mako's smile is wide, genuine, and it feels like he's been shot in the heart with the fucking sun. Jamie takes a step back and ducks his head. He can feel the blush on his cheeks, and it's not helped by Mako's gentle chuckle or the light pat on his shoulder before Mako moves to place the pig on a shelf.

"Got a call earlier. Guy who took over the door at the club is going on holiday. Asked me if I wanted to come back for a couple weeks."

"You gonna do it?"

"Yeah. Could use the money."

Once again, the reminder that every penny Mako spends on his behalf is another minute of his savings gone. Jamie takes a deep breath.

"Listen, I'm really glad you let me stay and all, but you can kick me out if you want. I know it's gotta be a pain with me not paying you, and me stayin' here and driving up the bills isn't helping."

Mako doesn't look as relieved as he expected. He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose before replying.

"If I wanted you to leave I would have kicked you out already. I like having you here.

"Yeah, but the money—"

"I'd rather work knowing you were safe than be retired worrying about you."

Jamie doesn't know how to respond. It's like he's built a model of their situation inside his head, and Mako's just given him a piece that he can't fit into place without tearing it apart.

He struggles to rebuild it for the next few days, and lying awake one night, it finally snaps into place.

He usually avoids going in Mako's room, not wanting to invade the last bit of privacy Mako has. But he sure as hell isn't going back to sleep, and he can't wait for morning.

He taps at the door, peeking inside. "Mate?"

The plush carpet muffles his steps. The rest of the house has hints of Mako's love of cute things, but this really is Mako's comfort zone. Stuffed animals watch him as he creeps closer to the curtain that hides the bed.

"Mako?"

Sliding the curtain back, he pauses. Mako's fast asleep, snoring quietly. There's a mask covering his face, similar to ones he's seen people wear in hospital, but Jamie's damned if he knows what it's for.

He focuses on Mako, jumping at the dark eyes glaring at him. Mako's awake, and he doesn't look happy about it. Fuck, he should have waited.

Jamie stammers out apologies as Mako sits up, pulling off the mask and setting it atop the machine.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing? It's just, you know I'm gay, right?"

Mako squints at him, clearly wondering why Jamie woke him up for this. "You're pretty open about it."

"And you are too, right?" They've never really talked about it, but he's pretty sure.

He feels the bed shake as Mako laughs. "Been dating guys longer than you've been alive."

"Do you wanna be gay together?"

"You askin' me out?"

"Yeah."

Things change over the next few weeks.

Mako isn't around as much, back to working the night shift. He returns home in the early morning, both of them settling into bed together

Jamie's also awake, working with items he scavenges from bins. It probably isn't what his neighbours expect to happen to their recyclables, but he has a respectable collection of scrap animals now, and they've started getting attention online after Mako posted pictures of the pig he'd made.

He's managed to sell a few, pushing the money he made onto Mako to cover expenses.

They spend mornings tangled under the covers, sleeping away the day.

One morning Mako comes back later than usual, having texted Jamie that he was picking something up, and to go to sleep if he needed to. Jamie spends the morning staying stubbornly awake, sipping coffee until he hears Mako's bike pull up.

Opening the door he finds a new addition to their space, a trailer small enough to be pulled by the bike.

"Suprise." Even behind the helmet, he can hear Mako's smile. "Figured it would be good for if you wanted to sell fireworks again, or if you wanted to start selling your junk creatures offline."

For a brief moment, Jamie wants to cry, wants some outlet for the emotions welling up inside him. He dives at Mako instead, nuzzling against the helmet until Mako pulls it off. He murmurs his thanks between kisses, slinging an arm around Mako's waist as they head inside. "Tell you what, we can get some sleep then figure it out over breakfast, I got some great ideas for the future."