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Jesse was incredibly warm. Sleeping next to him wasn't dissimilar to sleeping next to a heat sink, Hanzo had decided.
Not only was it like sleeping next to a heat sink, it was like sleeping next to a big, hairy, and cuddly heat sink. Multiple times Hanzo would wake up with Jesse's fist (flesh or metal) curled into the fabric of his shirt. It never annoyed Hanzo, but sometimes Jesse would pull in his sleep, slotting Hanzo's body perfectly against Jesse's. Only then would Jesse relax and resume his snoring.
(Until Hanzo inevitably woke up because he was sweating and shuffled away, and Jesse would latch onto him again if he was really in a cuddly mood.)
And sometimes, Jesse talked in his sleep. Most often it was just traces of something incomprehensible without context. Sometimes it was Spanish.
Nowadays, he was haunted by a ghost of his past and now his future. The name Reyes came off Jesse's lips whenever he seemed to be dreaming.
The word circled around in Hanzo's head like a mantra. And, the photographs Hanzo had thumbed through. Reyes was dead, everyone and their mother knew Gabriel Reyes died at the Swiss Headquarters.
But Hanzo trusted Jesse more than he would ever admit to the man — if he did, Jesse would tease and pester him relentlessly. And if Jesse believed Reyes was alive, somehow, Hanzo would believe him and help him find evidence.
One night though, and Jesse was still and silent. Hanzos head was resting on his chest, registering the steady beat of Jesse's heart and inhalation of air. It was, perhaps, one of the calmest noises Hanzo had ever heard in his life.
But he knew that Jesse was thinking far too much for his own good. Hanzo probably should distract him. He took one of his hands, and dragged his fingers across Jesse's chest. It immediately made Jesse startle.
"I thought you were asleep Hanners?" Jesse murmured.
"Your thinking is keeping me awake," Hanzo said, and shifted his body so that he wasn't laying beside Jesse but on top of him. He straddles Jesse's middle, his thighs on eitherside of Jesse's waist, and plopped down on his chest. Jesse made a surprised sound.
"I can think quieter darlin —" Jesse started to say, before Hanzo cut him off with a chaste kiss to his lips. Hanzo leaned back, searching for Jesse's eyes in the dark of his room.
"I don't want you to think at all," Hanzo whispered, leaning back in to kiss Jesse again, a kiss the gunslinger readily reciprocated.
This kiss was more alive than the first one. Amidst the fog of thoughts clogging both of their minds, this kiss set passion alive between them. Jesse's hands went to Hanzo's body, one to his cheek, the other to his leg. Hanzo had his hands planted on the bed either side of Jesse's head, so he could lean forward. They stayed like that, tight to each other, until Hanzo couldn't even breathe.
"Damn Hanzo, I really wish I could see you now," Jesse hissed, panting, when he pulled away from the kiss. Hanzo stayed close, shuffling forward on Jesse's torso so that he could above him. The archer smiled to himself, his plan worked on clearing Jesse's head.
"Hmmph. You sound out of breath. Rusty?"
"You caught me by surprise is all!" Jesse guffawed, back to being his cheerful self it seemed. He wrapped his arms around Hanzo's middle, keeping them tied together. "I'm truly a tiger between the sheets."
"If kissing leaves you this gassed, we might need to take it easy then tiger," Hanzo joked, feeling more relaxed than he had in years. He dropped his forehead on top of Jesse's, closing his eyes serenely. He felt calm and safe with Jesse holding him like that. With Hanzo on top of Jesse's chest, he could feel Jesse's laugh rumble through him.
"I like you calling me that, sweet pea," Jesse said. "But can you kiss me again?"
Hanzo did as Jesse asked, kissing him until his head swam and his heart soared. It felt like they had been kissing for hours, and Hanzo truly felt seventeen again. When he pulled away, he nuzzled his face against Jesse's neck, huffing against him and pressing soft kisses.
"We haven't really gotten that far," Hanzo mused quietly. Hanzo liked to take his time with relationships, and he needed to trust Jesse fully, which he did by this point. In his heart and in his mind, he felt ready.
"Are you suggesting you wanna go farther?" Jesse was just as hushed.
"Yes," Hanzo immediately answered, rubbing his cheek against Jesse's warm neck, making him giggle. "Yes I do Jesse. I would love to go all the way with you."
It took Jesse's breath away. "Holy shit. Hanzo —"
This time it was Jesse pulling Hanzo into a fierce kiss, this one was deeper and set a fire alive in Hanzo's gut. He felt Jesse's hands cup his face — one warm and calloused, one smooth and metal — and he breathed heavily at how Jesse seared beneath him.
Now Hanzo was the breathless one. When the kiss broke, he stared into Jesse's face with wide eyes. The dark made Jesse look muddy, but he could recognize the cowboy. They were both panting.
"Well, shit, Hanzo," Jesse said, "how am I suppose to not think after that?"
Hanzo laughed. "I will let you think as long as you think of me, Jesse."