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The new recruit is on base for 6 days before Jesse finds out. He was out on a mission when the man came in and it seems like nobody tells him anything anymore. At first, Jesse just nods and slowly sips his coffee while sitting at the table in the morning. He takes a long swallow as people talk back and forth about how the man just showed up one day, more interested in the coffee than anything, and blurrily nods along as Reinhardt booms about how great it is that Genji's brother is coming in from out in the cold after being alone for so long. That's nice, he thinks and takes another sip. And then it hits.
Genji’s brother. And he’s only got the one. Jesse knows that for a fact.
He spills the coffee down his pants and has to excuse himself in a hurry. “Are you okay, luv?” Tracer calls after him but Jesse waves her off and hopes he doesn’t look like he just peed his pants as he stages a tactical retreat back to his room.
It takes Jesse another two days to hunt the man down because when you've lived a life like his, elusiveness becomes second nature. In the end, he finds Genji’s brother in a random hallway, staring at a wall and looking more than a little lost. Jesse’s spurs give him away, the expression in Hanzo’s face evaporating like morning mist with the dawn, but for a moment there, Jesse’s heart had been just about ready to break.
They’ve all got stories like that, Jesse knows. At least the ones that had done some living before finding their way to Overwatch. Things that eat them up at night, prowling through their dreams like wolves, waiting to jump them the minute that they let their guard down. It’s got to be hard, though, when your biggest mistake is looking you in the face every morning, sitting across from you and asking if you slept well.
Jesse doesn’t know how he’d deal with that. He’d probably be wandering empty corridors and staring at walls, too. At least Jesse’s regrets are mainly in the past, fogged by the time that he’s spent trying to make it better.
He also knows that it doesn’t make a difference if you’ve been forgiven or not when you’re judging yourself.
The man in front of him is a different person than that one that Jesse met all those years ago. His story’s darker and sadder than before and it had already been plenty dark before, with enough horrors packed into it for a lifetime of nightmares. Still, there’s something in the way that he holds himself, something in the quick look he shoots at Jesse before that impassive mask slides down, that makes Jesse think that the man that he knew is still very much alive. He’s got a little gray at his temples but Jesse thinks that it makes him look distinguished—and a little more like the dragons that twist around his arm.
Jesse likes the new outfit, too. Shows off that pretty artwork without even having to be asked.
Hanzo inclines his head respectfully. “Mr. McCree,” he says.
Jesse smiles like the six feet between them is more like six inches. “Mr. McCree?” he repeats and cocks his hip. Jesse’s a different man than the one Hanzo knew as well—a bit more weathered, a little thicker around the waist—but, hell, Jesse thinks, he’s still got his hair. He still cuts a dashing figure, even if he does say so himself. “Now, I know it's been a long time, darlin’, but I thought you said you were going to call me Jesse.”
And it’s the most amazing thing: a bit of red stains Hanzo’s cheeks. This tough son of a bitch who’s done more living than half the world and he can still blush. Jesse suppresses the crow he wants to let loose because, yeah, he’s still got it. And damned if Hanzo isn’t still the prettiest man that Jesse’s ever seen. Jesse’s eyes drop down to Hanzo’s ankles of their own accord and he has to forcefully drag them back up. Lord Almighty. Jesse might need a stretcher if he gets a peek at them without their armor plating again.
Hanzo’s blush deepens a little and he looks away. “Did you need something? Jesse?”
Prettier than angels singing. “I was just heading to get some coffee if you’d care to join me.”
Hanzo’s eyes flickered over to Jesse. “I do not drink coffee.”
“Tea, then,” Jesse counters. “Don’t tell me you don’t drink tea.”
The excuse that Hanzo had been preparing dies on his lips. “I would say no such thing.” His brows draw down as his chin lifts a little higher in the air. It’s a little touch of arrogance that sends a thrill down Jesse’s spine. Something about the challenge, he suspects.
“Nah,” Jesse says in agreement. “Of course not.” He sweeps his hand in the general direction of the base’s kitchen. “Kitchen’s this way. Now, I won’t hold it against you if you say no, but I can’t say that I wouldn’t appreciate the company.”
Hanzo crosses his arms. “I am here to make amends.” He glances away again, focusing intently on a bare stretch of wall. “Not to make friends.”
The laugh is out of Jesse’s mouth before he can catch it and Hanzo’s chin tilts even more. “I’m not laughing at you, darlin’, I swear. I just…” Jesse shrugs and decides to go for blunt honesty. It worked for him before. “You’re so damned gorgeous you got me giddy.”
Hanzo shakes his head and uncrosses his arms. Another small victory for Jesse. “You are the strangest man, Jesse McCree.”
“So you’ve told me.” Jesse ducks his head. “Though I don’t think it’s too strange to want to share a drink with a beautiful man.”
“Do these lines ever work for you?” Hanzo asks bluntly. He sounds unimpressed, but he’s back to looking at Jesse again. Jesse will take that as a good sign.
“Lines?” Jesse repeats, aghast. He reels backward in mock-hurt, his hand to his chest. “Darlin’, I’m just inviting you to the group kitchen for some damn Earl Grey or whatever it is they got this place stocked with. Now, if you’re looking for some lines, well, I certainly got some of those.” Hanzo’s still standing in front of him instead of running away in terror, which is all he needs for a go ahead. “Do you have a map, darlin’? ‘Cause I think I just got lost in your eyes. Buttercup, you must be made of sugar because you’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen. Oh, honeybee you must be tired because you’ve been running through my dreams all night.”
Hanzo waves his hands, stopping Jesse before he can think of any more off the top of his head. “Enough!”
“How about those lines?” Jesse asks. “They suit your fancy better?”
“Never say any of them again.”
Jesse chuckles. “Oh, don’t you worry. I don’t have to repeat any of ‘em ‘cause I’ve got a million.” Hanzo groans like that physically pains him and Jesse laughs again. “You want to hear more or are you ready for that drink?”
Hanzo sighs in defeat and Jesse’s back to thinking that he could shoot out the moon if he tried. “I will join you.”
“That’s the spirit, sweetpea—”
“But no more lines.”
“On my honor, darlin’,” Jesse says, holding up his fingers in a salute. “No more lines tonight if you join me for that drink.” He can’t promise anything about tomorrow. He’s got a few about an angel that he’s just dying to lay down.
Hanzo joins him, heading down the hallway. He makes a few comments about the way that Jesse tries to make tea, so Jesse ends up just giving him the fixings and letting him do it himself. The conversation stays relatively surface level and it’s nice, Jesse thinks. This is nice. He’s sitting here with a former Yakuza boss who’s done some pretty unthinkable things, his past as bloodstained as Jesse’s, and it’s just nice. Reyes would have laughed himself sick.
Hanzo sits with him until Genji comes in. “It is good to see you settling in, anija,” Genji says and Hanzo’s on his feet and heading his way. “You can stay if you like. I was only making sure if you were okay.”
“I…” Hanzo looks over his shoulder at Jesse then back to Genji. “Jesse and I were merely talking.”
“Jesse?” Genji asks with a teasing lilt. He leans to the right to peer around Hanzo and Jesse gives him a wave and a smile. That’s right. It’s ‘Jesse.’
“I must go practice now,” Hanzo announces. He nods at Genji and then Jesse. “If you would excuse me.”
“Sure thing, darlin’,” Jesse drawls. “I’ll catch you later sometime.” That metal face plate of Genji’s hides a great deal but Jesse knows that he is simply dying to know what’s transpired in his absence. It’s amazing that the man isn’t vibrating. Especially when Hanzo holds his eyes a little longer than necessary and Jesse is mentally patting himself on the back. Oh, yeah. There’s something there alright. It’ll be a tricky card game to play, too, but Jesse thinks he might have a chance at winning.
Hanzo leaves and Jesse watches him go, not bothering to hide how he lets his eyes travel up and down Hanzo’s backside. No use to it because Genji already knows. Genji waits approximately two seconds before sitting down across from Jesse. “So.”
And Jesse would love to spill the whole story ‘cause ain’t nobody ever believed him but with the proof having just walked himself out on his pretty little feet, Jesse’s pretty sure that Genji’s willing to buy whatever Jesse wants to sell. Thing is, Jesse’s an old poker player. He knows when he has to keep his cards close to his chest. “He likes tea,” Jesse says blandly.
“I know.”
Jesse nods and tips his hat. “I’d best be going too.” He stands but before he can move away, Genji catches his wrist, his hand flying out like a viper. Jesse stares down at it for a long while, waiting for Genji to say whatever it is he intends to say but nothing ever comes. He looks up at Genji’s facemask, the smooth metal giving away nothing but his tight grip speaking volumes. “Yeah,” Jesse says finally. “I got it.”
He gets it. Genji and his brother, they haven’t had normal lives. The baggage that comes with them is enough to fill a five mile train. Jesse respects that. He ain’t going to get in the way of it.
But he’s had a hard life too and if he’s learned anything, it’s that you take your chances when you can and you don’t turn down a good thing just because it might be a little hard going at times. “I’m no angel,” Jesse says, “and I don’t expect I’ll be turning into one anytime soon, but I don’t mean any harm.”
Genji’s hand falls away. “This is…this is good.” He drums fingers on the table and cocks his head. “I think.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You should.” Genji stands and clasps a hand on Jesse’s shoulder. “Hanzo likes expensive sake.”
Jesse frowns at the robotic hand. “What?”
“Not the cheap stuff.” Genji gives him a pat and walks past, heading for the door. “And don’t interrupt him when he’s shooting. He hates that.”
“I’ll take that under advisement,” Jesse says, a small pulling at the corner of his mouth. It feels like Genji’s giving his blessing and it’s absurd, surreal, and a little bit cute. Jesse wonders if he should mark this day down on the calendar or something.
It’s a few days before Jesse sees Hanzo again, as Winston keeps him busy in the field but Jesse makes sure that he places an order for that sake, just in case.
“Hey, Hanzo,” Jesse says with a wave the next time he sees him, coming in from a mission with the rest of the team he’d been sent out with. Jesse quickens his stride to get across the room before Hanzo can manage to leave, pushing around Pharah and D.Va to do it, and surprise, surprise, Hanzo stops. It’s enough of a victory to make Jesse grin and Hanzo raises his eyebrows, clearly wanting him to spit out what he has to say. Jesse doesn’t like to keep people waiting, so he drops the line he’s been dying to say for two days now. “Sugar, does heaven know that it’s missing an angel right now?”
Hanzo slowly drops his head forward, a pained look on his face while D.Va breaks out into giggles from somewhere over Jesse’s shoulder, followed swiftly by Pharah’s pained, “Jesse.”
“Good line, huh?” Jesse asks with a wink. Hanzo shakes his head and turns back around to continue his walk out of the room. Jesse follows him. “Told you I didn’t need to repeat any,” he says once they make the hallway.
“I did not doubt you,” Hanzo replies. He stops his walk and turns to face Jesse again. “Is that all you wanted to say?”
Jesse shrugs, trying to look casual but knowing that he gave himself the way the moment he bustled across a room to get to him. “Thought I might invite you for coffee again.”
“I do not drink coffee,” Hanzo says with a slow blink.
“I know. But you seemed to do alright on the tea.” They'd had a nice chat, him and Hanzo and who knows how long it might have gone on for if Genji hadn't come looking.
For a moment, Jesse thinks that he’s about to crash and burn, but then Hanzo sighs and glances away. “Will there be any more lines?”
“You mean like asking about what time Heaven’s expecting you back?”
Hanzo tsks. “Yes. Like that.”
“Not if you join me for that cup.” Hanzo looks skeptical and Jesse makes a cross in front of his heart. “I swear. No more today.”
Hanzo’s eyes narrow. “And tomorrow?”
“You mean I get to see you tomorrow, too?” Jesse asks. He’s getting a charge out of this back and forth with Hanzo. He hopes Hanzo feels the same. “Oh, sweetheart, it’s a date.”
Hanzo looks like he might protest before he visibly gives in, his shoulders loosening. “Our third.”
“Technically our fourth,” Jesse corrects with a wink. “I think our first was rather unforgettable.”
“Unforgettable, yes,” Hanzo concedes, and the slow blink of his eyes lets Jesse know that he’s remembering that particular night the same as Jesse, “but hardly a date. I would like to think that I would treat my dates better.”
“Oh, Hanzo,” Jesse disagrees, “honeysuckle, you can treat me like that anytime you want, you just let me know.” It's possible that time is smoothing out the bumps in the memory, but Jesse thinks he would howl at the damn moon for a chance to be treated so well again, handcuffs and all. Hell, Hanzo could even threaten him a little again. Jesse kind of likes that.
Hanzo’s eyes drop down to crotch level, eyeing the space under Jesse’s belt buckle and Jesse’s not ashamed to admit that he pushes his hips out a little. Hanzo stares a little long then lazily drags his eyes back up and Jesse’s going to die on the spot of a spontaneous combustion from the heat in that gaze. “A drink then.”
“A drink,” Jesse agrees and gestures for Hanzo to join him, sweeping his hand towards the Watchpoint kitchen. Hanzo catches Jesse looking at his ankles in that fine armor plating of his but Jesse only smiles back, unashamed. After all these years, Jesse knows what he's about.
Three days later, the sake that Jesse ordered finally arrives, coming in on a shipment, and Hanzo looks at it with surprise when Jesse hands it to him and asks him if he’d like to come back to Jesse’s room. Hanzo holds it up, reading the bottle label and Jesse hardly dares to breathe. He hopes that he hasn't been reading the situation wrong, because he's already been having his sleep disturbed with dreams of Hanzo's pretty little ankles wrapped around his waist. It's a place that Jesse's willing to wait a long while to get to, but he'd like to make sure that his train is heading in the right direction at least.
As Jesse watches, more nervous than a long-tailed cat in a room full of rockers but trying not to show it, Hanzo's pretty lips curl up into smirk that is just pure sin. Oh, yeah, Jesse thinks. He could definitely get used to that.
Dealing with Hanzo is pretty tricky even at the best of times, but Jesse just might be getting the hang of it.