Chapter Text
He’d done the research. The tank he’d bought is set up already with the necessary heat lamp and thermometer. Besides the heat lamp, the tank has a handsome pair of traps—hot and cold—large enough for two lizards. He’d also overcome his dislike of live crickets. It’s all ready, just waiting for some adorable lizards to call it home.
Jesse sucks in a deep breath, wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans, and kneels before the pet store tank.
Of course, the lively gecko with a greenish tint to his scales jumps out first. The other resident of the tank, the bluish one, is nowhere to be found.
Jesse has showed up to this pet shop for the past month, watching the geckos with barely contained enthusiasm. Of course he knows that they don’t really smile. But the natural curl of their mouths had snared him immediately, and he’s loved them ever since. The owner of the store—a withered, old woman with a protective streak—doesn’t even bother him anymore. She’d chased him off the first few times, assuring him that reptiles were no easy or cheap pet. She’d recommended him a dog. But, he’d persisted and read up on the care, watched countless videos, and even questioned leopard gecko owners. The next time the shopkeeper had tried to chase him away, Jesse had held his ground and proved his worth.
She must sense his doubled eagerness, though, because when Jesse rises to his full height, she’s there at his side. The green gecko paws at the glass and turns his adorable face up at them. It occurs to Jesse that the other is probably sleeping. He smiles at the green one before turning his attention back to the shopkeeper. She squints at him from her short height in thick, old lenses. Jesse takes a half step back to allow her closer to the tank. She hums while shuffling into the space he made. The green gecko licks the glass in front of his face when he sees her. Behind him, the warm trap shifts a bit, and Jesse thinks he sees eyes glaring out from the hole.
“Genji is always so happy to see you.”
Blinking hard, Jesse shakes his head and lifts an eyebrow. “Genji? I didn’t know you named them.”
She hums again while placing the pad of a finger on the glass for the gecko to inspect, careful to not actually tap the glass.
“They came to me as hatchlings with names already given.” She points a bit to the hot trap. “The other is Hanzo, mean little bugger. He hatched first and thinks he owns the world.”
They stand at the tank for a while, watching Genji waddle around the water bowl. While he drinks, Hanzo emerges from the trap and glares at them. Genji drinking soon catches his attention, though, and he skitters across the tank to claim the water for himself. Genji is smaller, but faster, and darts away before Hanzo gets more than a swipe in. Genji flops away with his mouth open, as if laughing. He returns to the front of the tank to tilt his head at the old lady’s finger. Jesse resists making terrible, unmanly noises when the little gecko presses his nose to the glass. Jesse covers his mouth to make sure nothing slips out. Hanzo takes that moment to realize no one is paying attention to him and flings his underbelly on the glass. It spooks Genji, who dives into the hot trap and doesn’t come back out. Jesse bites his lower lip and turns his head away, unable to maintain his composure.
“They won’t be easy for a rookie,” the owner comments. “But if you want Genji, you have to take Hanzo, too.”
“I’m sorry, what?” Jesse wipes his sweaty hand on his jeans again. “I didn’t catch that.”
She grumbles and gives him a stink eye. “They’re a pair, and I won’t separate them.”
Jesse stuffs his fidgety hands in his pockets and nods his head to the tank. Hanzo sits stubbornly in front of the glass, glaring at the woman’s finger. He’d probably bite her, if he could get through the glass.
“They don’t seem to get along very well. And I thought males fight with each other all the time,” Jesse counters with a nervous shuffle on the worn floor. “Every time I come in here, Hanzo there chases Genji all over the place. If you told me they don’t fight, I ain’t sure I’d believe you.”
A dull thud on the glass is Hanzo’s addition to the conversation, striking at the glass like Jesse knew he would. His brain conjures an image of him feeding the pair crickets, but instead of jumping for the food, Hanzo leaps from the tank and attacks his face. It’s a ridiculous thought, exaggerated and childish at best, but it still gives Jesse a case of the shivers. Hanzo has had enough of smacking his nose into the glass and instead watches them without any of the joy Genji had. Jesse cranes his head around Hanzo’s aggressive stance to peek into the trap where the smaller gecko had fled. Genji has curled up in the back of the trap and seems fine. Hanzo skitters into his line of sight, though, so Jesse lifts his head again.
“Genji seems pretty tame, so why is Hanzo so spunky?”
The old woman rolls her eyes and lifts her hands to open the top of the tank. Hanzo continues to stare at Jesse while she reaches in and picks him up. With the tank’s lid closed, she cradles him with both her hands curled gently around him. His head bobs in the air while sniffing in Jesse’s direction. Jesse tries to offer the lizard a smile, but it comes out crinkled at the edges. The shopkeeper lifts her hands toward Jesse, offering Hanzo to him. Jesse’s first instinct is to refuse, but he quickly chastises himself for it. It’s not fair to want Genji just because he’s friendly. He must give Hanzo a chance, too. Just a bit reluctantly, Jesse holds out his hands—palms flat—to accept the feisty reptile.
Hanzo eyes the new platform with a tilt of his head. Even though Jesse has witnessed time and time again how mean Hanzo can be, he can’t stamp down the butterflies in his stomach. No matter the gecko, he loves them. Hanzo deems him acceptable and crawls to him. His little claws prick across the rough skin of Jesse’s palms, but they don’t cut him. Up close, Jesse can appreciate Hanzo’s odd coloring better. He’s never seen leopard geckos with green or blue, except on hatchlings before their bands darken. Genji and Hanzo are clearly special. He also notices that Hanzo’s tail is fatter than Genji’s. He saves that bit of knowledge for later, already making plans to feed them separately so that Genji gets his fair share.
With a bit of shame, Jesse prepares himself for an inevitable bite from Hanzo. The lizard settles his tiny head by the meat of Jesse’s thumb, and Jesse sucks in a quiet breath. Hanzo surprises him instead by licking the salt off his skin. He’s more interested in sitting still and soaking up Jesse’s body heat than putting up a fight. Jesse glances at the owner and finds her watching them with a satisfied smile. She reaches over to brush a finger lightly on Hanzo’s head.
“He is strong willed, but not as nasty as you think. He gets jealous and mopey easily, so be careful spending too much time doting on Genji.”
Jesse barely manages to contain his jump in surprise. Only Hanzo’s occasional licks to the sweat on his palms reminds him of his delicate cargo.
“You trust me enough to take them? Is that what you’re saying?”
“As unorthodox as it is, I’ll allow it.” She takes Hanzo back from him, placing him in the tank, and then gestures him to follow. “I’ll explain some finer details of reptile keeping before that comes.”
-
The first night isn’t eventfully, just full of the high-pitched screams Genji and Hanzo make when they become active. Jesse thanks his past self for putting their tank in his office rather than in his bedroom. He’d mostly been concerned if a cricket somehow escaped their hungry mouths and made it into his bed. He hadn’t even thought of how loud and persistent their calls can be. A little bit of white noise courtesy of an educational channel that airs all night cures that problem. After a week, his brain just tunes out their nightly calls, and he sleeps without the TV. Another unknown benefit of office life for the lizards presents itself to Jesse. He can easily watch them while sitting at his desk, but at a distance where his presence doesn’t distract their natural behavior. It’s how he catches sight of Hanzo’s gentler side.
Genji flops on the board that lines their tank, basking in the heat lamp. He stretches out and makes a grand show of enjoying himself. When Jesse spies Hanzo creeping out of the cold trap, he worries that they may bicker again. However, Hanzo simply pokes Genji’s little limbs until his brother makes room. He squeezes between Genji and the tank wall in order to share the heat, rather than chase Genji away. Jesse doesn’t manage to get anything done for that half an hour, content to just watch his little buddies finally not fight. The magic ends when Genji squirms away for water, and Hanzo stretches out to take up all the space. It gives Jesse a perfect moment to fish out the tweezers and some crickets to feed Genji while Hanzo is none the wiser.
By the time Jesse lifts his hands with the crickets and tweezers ready, Genji is waiting for him. The lizard pushes his upper body off the floor of their tank, eager for food. The tip of his tongue sticks out from his jaws, and Jesse has to bite his lip to stop making noises. Genji’s little head follows every twitch of the cricket before Jesse drops it. The poor thing doesn’t have time to bounce away before Genji has it down his throat. He eyeballs Jesse for another one, and he spares the next one a second of wonder before eating it. Jesse hunches over the top of the tank and drops a third behind Genji. He snaps to attention, either tasting the critter on the air or maybe feeling it flee over his tail.
“Get it, Genji,” Jesse whispers, waiting for the lizard to strike. “Get ‘em, he’s running away!”
Mouth wide open, Genji twists around like a madman and pounces on the cricket. It crunches between his little teeth.
“Yea, you got him! All right!”
Finished with his prey, Genji hobbles over the water bowl and back to the front of the tank. Jesse doesn’t have another cricket for him, but with Genji’s relaxed posture, he deems the lizard satisfied. Smiling, Jesse slowly reaches down and rubs a finger on the top of Genji’s head. His tongue pokes out again, and his big eyes fall shut. Jesse nibbles on his lower lip to give himself something to do other than make baby noises at the adorable gecko. He flattens his hand to scoop Genji up and lift him up for a little exercise. Genji must sense what’s about to happen, because he kindly goes still to make it easier for Jesse to pick him up.
There’s a rug in front of the tank cabinet, and Jesse lowers them both to the ground until he’s lying flat on the rug. With one arm curled under his head, Jesse keeps an eye on the lizard on his chest. Genji has never made a run for it before, not that there’s anywhere for him to go with the office door shut, but Jesse watches him carefully regardless. Genji cranes his head in Jesse’s direction, probably tasting the air. His little claws poke through Jesse’s cotton t-shirt, and Jesse bites back a chuckle or two as Genji crawls up. Genji finally stops his slow, curious exploration at Jesse’s collarbones. With a quiet squeak, he wiggles to find a comfortable spot to soak up Jesse’s body heat. Content, Genji blinks at him with his tongue poking out again. Jesse chuckles and curls his other hand over Genji, adding another source of heat for him. He knows it’s not enough, and there’s always the chance that Genji’s temperature will drop too much, so he won’t linger on the floor for long.
Genji gives him the signal that it’s time to go back when he starts chewing on Jesse’s shirt. His mouth and teeth leave miniscule wet patches behind. Jesse wraps a secure hand around the gecko before climbing to his feet. Hanzo has disappeared from under the heat lamp, but Jesse pays him no mind. There’s no way he could have climbed out, since their species lacks what Jesse’s pet book called “lamella” on their feet. In other species of geckos, this feature allows them to cling to vertical surfaces. Jesse hadn’t known that little bit of trivia before seriously considering geckos as pets. Shrugging at Hanzo’s whereabouts, Jesse carefully lifts Genji back into the tank. Genji’s little limbs land exactly where Jesse had picked him up. He waddles in a circle at first, checking the tank out, before tilting his head up to Jesse. Whining at how adorable Genji is, Jesse reaches back into the tank to pet his head one last time.
Hanzo has other ideas.
He practically flies across the tank to bite at Jesse’s fingers and Genji, any flesh he can reach. The lizards scream at each other while Jesse rips his hand away. Hanzo got him a few times, breaking the skin, but it’s nothing soap and antibacterial cream can’t fix. He’s more concerned about them.
“Hey, hey! Stop that!”
Jesse sacrifices his hand to create a barrier between the brothers. Hanzo doesn’t bite him this time, just angrily butts his head against Jesse’s palm. Genji flees for the safety of the hot trap far away from the water bowl and flaky remains of cricket. Jesse cranes his neck to see if Genji had escaped unharmed, but it’s difficult to make out. Hanzo claws gently at his fingers, crawling up a few before falling back down. Huffing, Jesse wraps his hand around Hanzo and lifts him from the tank. He knows better than to bring the feisty beast to face level, but he glowers down at Hanzo all the same. On his part, Hanzo holds on with his tiny claws and gazes around the room—unconcerned with the drama he’s started once again.
“Why you always causing trouble, huh? You can’t leave your brother alone for one second?”
Hanzo stares at some sweat glistening on his palm before licking it. Jesse would throw his hands up if he weren’t currently occupied. Instead, he pets Hanzo a little roughly before setting him back in the tank. There’s no ceremony in handing over three crickets for him, although he enjoys watching Hanzo eat just as much as Genji. There’s no play involved in this for Hanzo, but his quick, precise strikes fascinate Jesse, too. Once finished, Hanzo sits and watches him much like Genji does, but Jesse has no desire to pick Hanzo up. He still has to tend to the bites on his hand. At the door to his office, Jesse twists at the hip to stare at the tank. Hanzo hasn’t moved from his intimidating display, chest lifted off the tank floor in a challenge. Somewhere, Genji is hopefully keeping a low profile and will avoid his brother for the night. Sighing, Jesse flicks the lights off and shuts the door.
It’s an eventful night, a few hours later, when Jesse tunes into the screams he usually ignores. Flat on his back, he stares at the ceiling in confusion for a moment. A dull thump from the office, something heavy hitting glass, has him kicking frantically at the covers to leave. Jesse stumbles from his bed and windmills towards his bedroom door. The office light can’t come on fast enough, and he almost smacks his hip into the tank cabinet. Hanzo has chased Genji around and around the tank, and he catches them in another loop. His presence captures Genji’s attention for a split second, and it’s enough for Hanzo to close in. He sinks his little teeth into Genji’s tail, and the limb breaks off like a pretzel stick snapped in two. Jesse gags at the sight, and he raises his voice when Hanzo abandons the twitching tail to continue chasing Genji. A trail of blood follows the wounded brother.
“Hey! Stop, stop, damn it, Hanzo!”
Jesse dives into the tank with both hands to scoop Genji up. The bleeding from his broken tail has already stopped, but he doesn’t twitch much in Jesse’s hands. Hanzo watches them with blood still around his mouth. Jesse cradles the gecko close to his chest, uncaring of blood or anything else getting on him. He tosses his head around, desperate to find some sort of temporary housing for Genji. He won’t dare put the lizard back with Hanzo, afraid he’ll wake up a few hours later minus one buddy. Heart hammering in his chest still, Jesse kicks an empty shoebox from the shallow closet in the office and kneels down. Genji’s scaly skin is almost tepid, and he curls up in the palm of Jesse’s hand.
There’s a shirt on the floor of the closet, so Jesse grabs that to line the cardboard box. Once he has the cotton molded enough to the rectangle shape, he lowers Genji into it. Jesse uses the tips of his fingers to push and tuck the material around Genji, forming a cloth nest around him. His next concern is heat for the little guy, but he still only has the one lamp for their tank. There’s a old style desk lamp on his nightstand, with an ancient bulb that always makes him sweat when it’s on. He hopes it will provide enough ambient heat for the short term. He’d consult a book or the web, but it’s all he has. Jesse leaves the office light on and door open as he storms from the room, shoebox in arms.
He sets Genji’s temporary home down before sitting on the bed. The light shines bright and hot immediately when he twists it on, and he’s never been more thankful for the damn thing. Jesse adjusts the lamp’s angle and height before sliding the box under it. Luckily, the box is large enough for Genji to squirm away to the darker side, if he overheats. There’s no water for him, but that’s not part of Jesse’s main concern. He watches, lip between his teeth, as Genji breathes but does little else. Hand quivering, Jesse rests the backs of his fingers along Genji’s bent spine. He doesn’t even twitch at the brush of skin. Jesse sucks in a breath through his nose to try and dry his eyes a bit.
“I’m sorry, little buddy,” he whispers. Genji twitches under his fingers, but he doesn’t open his eyes. Jesse removes his savaged hand and watches the quick rise and fall of Genji’s little body. “Don’t give up on me, Genji. Please, don’t give up.”
The stinging bites in Jesse’s hands become too much to ignore. With slow steps and many gazes back to the box, Jesse slips from the room to tend to his hands. He passes through the motions in a daze with only thoughts of his little gecko running around and around in circles. While drying and bandaging his hands, Jesse’s face flares red for a moment when he thinks about Hanzo, who is probably enjoying the tank all to himself. Jesse pauses the care of his wounds to take deep breaths. He defuses the anger before it can seep down into him and fester, rotting his feelings for the other gecko. This isn’t Hanzo’s fault, but his own. He knew the risks of keeping Genji and Hanzo in the same tank. He’d watched time and time again as Hanzo had harassed and bitten Genji. And yet he’d done nothing to prevent future attacks. Hands clasped loosely in his lap, Jesse hangs his head and accepts responsibility. If Genji dies, he cannot blame Hanzo.
Jesse wanders back into the disheveled office to check on said gecko. Everything is in its rightful place inside the tank, except Genji. Hanzo has snuck back into the safety of a hide, leaving Genji’s bitten-off tail where it had fallen. Jesse considers cleaning it up now, but even leaving the wounded gecko alone for this long makes his heart drop. Sighing, Jesse flicks the light off and shuts the door as he always does. The cleaning can wait. Back in his room, Genji remains much the same in his little box. The lamp on the nightstand will keep him Jesse awake, but he doubts he’ll sleep much with Genji’s life hanging in the balance. As Jesse burrows back into his blankets, he blinks heavy eyes at the box. He can’t actually see Genji from here, can’t watch him breathe, but it would do him little good anyway. Shivering, Jesse pulls the covers up to his ears and tucks a corner around his eyes to block some light. He strains to hear any noises from the box—movement, breathing, anything—but nothing comes. Sleeps finds Jesse only when he can’t keep his eyes open anymore.
Sleep isn’t the only thing to go bump in the night and find him. He’s aware of the chilly, dense weight on top of him only in a distant, dream-like way at first. Whatever it is has wedged itself between his legs and lies boneless on his pelvis and stomach. It shifts every so often, sighing and digging equally tepid hands under his back. His body and the blanket on top of them trap the heat, and soon the weight isn’t so unpleasant. It drags itself higher, up to his chest where a head finds a resting place over his heart. Breathing isn’t a problem, thankfully, because Jesse’s gut instinct would be to kick and punch. Jesse doesn’t remember inviting anyone back to his apartment last night. Only the bitter streak of shame and mourning come to mind… Genji…
The waxy coating of dreamland burns off gradually, until Jesse knows he’s awake. The lamp on the nightstand shines as steadily as ever. Jesse cranes his head to see the box, but finds it missing. He’d jump up, but he isn’t alone. He’s on his back and the weight remains, hidden beneath the covers. It shuffles around, and Jesse remembers the cold hands stuffed under his back earlier. They’ve since moved to fisting the material of his sleep shirt. A sigh dampens the material over his heart before the weight squirms again, struggling higher and higher. Jesse stifles his own breathing as the covers resting along his collarbones shift and rise.
A tuft of bright green slips out followed by the glow from two eyes twinkling at him from the shadows. They take him in before glancing around what little the gap in the covers can reveal. Jesse isn’t quite sure he’s actually awake when patches of scales around the eyes and cheeks catch the light. They range from the tan skin tone underneath, to orange creamsicle, and then to pastel lime to match the hair. The head lifts up from Jesse’s chest to get a better look around. The creature is naked as far as Jesse can see, although it’s not much to see. He sucks in a quiet breath, but even the hush of it spooks the creature. It zips back under the covers, peeking at him a few seconds later with the tip of its tongue poking out between its teeth.
Lying still except to breathe, Jesse blinks at the golden eyes watching him.
“Genji?”