Chapter Text
Disarming
“What are you wearing?” Hanzo asked as he turned to face Jesse. The archer was pulling the cooler from the back of the transport when McCree joined the group. He didn’t think there was much issue with his choice of clothing. Long cargo shorts and a bright red floral print Hawaiian shirt topped with his tattered broad brim cowboy hat. It was less than Jesse ever wore. It was already making him feel a little self-conscious.
He had been in armor and serape most of his life. They were security. Never knowing when he had to run or fight. Never certain if he was even going to have a place to sleep at night. Much less a safe place. When he rejoined Overwatch at lot of things had changed, but his layers of protection had not. Now his friends wanted to throw a beach party to celebrate their reunion. Of course McCree had agreed, but that did not mean he was feeling excited about it.
“What?” he protested. “It’s not like I’m going into the water.”
Hanzo left the cooler alone and stepped into Jesse’s personal space as if he owned it. Jesse felt his breath catch at the closeness of the strong willed archer. This had been the biggest change. He and Hanzo had found mutual respect and attraction. It was only growing with multiple nights of sharing a bottle of alcohol.
“Why aren’t you getting into the water?” Hanzo locked their eyes together as he demanded an answer. His hands were already fiddling with the buttons to the Hawaiian shirt.
Jesse wiggled the prosthetic fingers to emphasize his point. “Do you know what saltwater does to metal?”
With a huff of annoyance, Hanzo stepped back. “A simple remedy.” Jesse was left alone and confused for three seconds as Hanzo reached into the transport’s cab for a mystery item. Next he was deftly unhooking McCree’s prosthetic left arm, ignoring Jesse’s protests. Hanzo did not explain as he violated the cowboy’s personal boundaries again. Not that McCree was really complaining. Personal space had become shared not too long ago. And Hanzo was delicate with removing the arm. Loving even. The care he took to ensure that Jesse did not have physical discomfort while removing the prosthetic made McCree smile fondly.
The metal arm found a home on the front seat of the transport. A red silicone sleeve snapped into place over the fittings and wires that connected his nervous system to the prosthetic. “A swim cap for my arm…” Jesse honestly did not know how to feel about that. He did not even know they existed.
“Get in the water, Jesse,” Hanzo spoke mainly to the arm he had just covered with the silicone. His fingers continued to smooth the silicone and surrounding skin with infinite care. A small expression of sadness touched the shorter man’s face, then vanished on hearing Jesse’s inarticulate voice of protest. “You did wear swim shorts, didn’t you?” Hanzo raised an eyebrow expectantly.
Jesse was not fast enough with an answer. A finger poked into the top of his cargo shorts and pulled them away just enough to peek. “Ack, Hanzo!” Jesse finally found words. He pulled Hanzo to his chest with his right arm against the strong bare back, dropping his head onto the man’s silky black hair. “Yes, I am wearing swim shorts.” The strong tattooed arm remained trapped between them. Through the beard brushing Jesse’s now exposed upper chest, the cowboy felt the archer smile.
“Good.” Hanzo tilted his head up, using both his arms to keep the massive gunslinger close to him. With a soft voice Hanzo continued, “No one is going to care about your awkward tan lines, or your less than rock hard belly.” As if to emphasize his point, Hanzo’s hands traveled under the remaining buttons of the red flowered shirt and rubbed at the soft abdomen. The archer gave him a knowing smirk. Jesse was already speechless from the pleasant sensations flooding him.
“You got me at a disadvantage here,” Jesse grinned and waved the stub of his arm capped in red.
“You are never at a disadvantage,” Hanzo stated firmly with a smirk.
“I suppose you’re right,” Jesse grinned broadly. His thick fingers gently rubbed against the stubble on the back of Hanzo’s head, bringing their mouths together. They kissed, long and drawn out. An easy understanding between them. A deeper love than simply physical. Jesse cradled Hanzo’s head as they sank into the bliss of being together. Hanzo hugged him by the waist, unwilling to relinquish the support he had found.
They finally broke apart when the distant calls to join them filtered through the haze of pleasure. Hanzo pulled away first, kissing Jesse’s cheek in promise. As the compact muscular man placed the metal prosthetic in a bag to keep water and sand out he mused, “I should probably joke about putting a severed arm on ice. Think there is room in the cooler?”
Jesse laughed brightly. “Depends on what you put in the cooler to start with. Though putting it on ice isn’t a bad idea at all. Not if you don’t want me to burn you when we replace it.”
“Then I’ll have to worry about freezing fingers on sunburn,” Hanzo chuckled but still opened the cooler to carefully lay the prosthetic amid the cans and ice. Both knew there was no way they would leave the arm behind.