September 2022 Drabble #2 (Patreon)

Winston/Soldier76 – Winston has been bullied into teaching the Overwatch recruits and he's so occupied with his own feelings about the matter that he doesn't realize how he is getting targeted by one of them.

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Winston hates having to do the classes for the recruits. He hates that he has to get out of his lab, he hates that he has to put a break on his endeavors and he hates that he has to somehow remember the curriculum.

He feels that other colleagues would be far better in the role of teacher than he, standing in front of a class of highly trained young men, sweating and stumbling over his own words because he absolutely loathed speaking in front of groups, but…

…well, he’s had the chance to say something and it came and went in the blink of an eye while he still stood there like a deer in the headlights, trying to formulate a response that wouldn’t sound too rude and… oh boy oh boy.

He’s just deep in it now.

Maybe next year he can gracefully step away for one of his much more outgoing colleagues that would absolutely love the opportunity to bestow wisdom upon Overwatch’s future elite.

Most of the recruits he’s dealing with he only knows from the labs where he makes them jog on a treadmill or draws their blood or asks them for sperm samples to see how the serum they’re injecting them with is treating their bodies…

To stand in front of them and try to teach them something is… well it’s weird, isn’t it?

Not that they seem to mind? They’re all grown men, quietly sitting there and just staring at him with blank faces, which is intimidating enough. All of them but one.

Jack Morrison is always sitting in the first row and he’s always grinning at Winston; just… an almost canine show of teeth while his pale blue eyes seem to pierce him like an insect.

They follow Winston around for much longer than their classes. He once dreamed of them even; hovering ominously in the sky above and just… staring at him.

He hates being stared at. He knows he’s too tall and too fat and too hairy. He knows what he looks like, especially so when in a room full of perfectly trained soldiers with nary a spare gram of fat on their bodies.

In fact, he’s so focused on how stupid and disgusting he must look that it takes him quite a long while to realize how weird and jerky he moves during the classes because he is inadvertently trying to avoid Morrison’s stabbing gaze.

He nearly stumbles over his own feet when he realizes, suddenly standing still and stopping mid-sentence as he just… stares at Morrison, wondering if there is some purpose in what he is doing or whether it is just Winston being Winston.

But then Morrison’s grin is spreading even wider and he twists his head a little, looking weirdly… malicious.

What is happening?