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Puedo imaginar pero no sé cómo se siente,
Que el mundo se detenga cuando acaricia mi piel.
Que las manos del reloj no giren si no está presente,
Dicen que es tan suave, dulce y fluye como miel.
McCree had never fallen in love before. His mama had filled his head with the songs of country crooners, of love lost and love found, but he'd yet to feel it for himself. After working in the shadows to save the world, and then a wanted man when the world decided it didn't need him, relationships didn't reach the top of Jesse's to-do list.
Still, he'd turn on the charm whenever he could aim it at someone reasonably attractive. Usually, the people he hit on either outright turned him down, in no uncertain words, or were drunk enough to think him suave and take him up on his offer. Either way, nothing substantial ever came from it, nothing more than a one night stand, anyway.
He'd told himself he was fine with that, that getting his rocks off once in a while with another person was enough. But then, at some point, Jesse realised he no longer wanted even that. The friendliness, the flirtation didn't stop, but he no longer aimed for getting in someone's pants. Eventually, he stopped entertaining the possibility of finding the one thing he wanted most altogether, but he didn't want it any less. Old habits die hard, he guessed, and had simply resigned himself to pining away for something he never knew.
So, when Hanzo stopped acting distant and started reciprocating, Jesse thought nothing of it. He acted no differently towards the archer than he did with anyone other teammate. Either they found his attitude endearing, like Lena, or found him intolerable after a few minutes. Like Hanzo had.
But then he'd changed. It began with tolerating Jesse's antics for far longer than before, and he'd been happy that Hanzo had finally started to warm up to him. Then the archer started to seek him out. They'd share a drink or two together, when sleeplessness kept them awake or when the afternoon dragged on too long, and swap tall tales and talk nonsense.
It had been during one of those nights, just as the sun bled colour into the sky, that Hanzo had taken it a step further. Watching the sunrise, drowning in wistful memories, he had come up to Jesse. They said nothing, simply enjoying each others company, as they now did.
And then Hanzo laid his hand on his forearm, and kept it there.
It hadn't been like a pat on the back, or a slap upside the head like that one time. He'd been almost nervous, just a quiet whisper of his rough palm on McCree's skin before he firmly left the weight of his hand there. And like the oblivious idiot he'd pretended at, Jesse had asked him if he wanted a smoke.
Hanzo said nothing for a moment before accepting. Deciding he was finally tired enough to attempt to catch a few hours sleep, Jesse said his goodnight and walked away. If he'd been paying any kind of attention, Jesse might have picked up on how Hanzo hadn't asked for a light, how the cigarette remained unlit in his hand.
Instead, he left the other man standing there, rigid in the wane morning sun. He didn't see how he frowned, how a trace of pink flushed his ears, how hard he clenched his fists.
…
Jesse had been trying to figure out why Hanzo had been avoiding him when the archer was sent on a solo mission. It wasn't terribly uncommon, but it was the first time Hanzo has gone alone. What was strange was that he hadn't been notified of him leaving at five in the morning. Hanzo hadn't said a word to him and the rest of the team left him in the dark, thinking he already knew.
He wasn't sure why that ticked him off as much as it did.
As the days ticked by, McCree found himself wandering the halls more and more, in search of… something. He recognised the unrest, the need to do something, but nothing held his attention for too long. He found himself jumping at the chance to insert himself in whatever it was anyone was doing where before he'd only participate when it interested him.
He was beginning to think he missed Hanzo.
The archer never shied away from having one of McCree’s incredibly one-sided conversations. He'd just be there, listening, minute changes sweeping across his face until Jesse ran out of things to talk about. He never told McCree to shut up or said his jokes were stupid. Well, he told him they were idiotic, but he'd caught him more than once trying not to crack a smile, which only made Jesse try harder.
He thought maybe Genji had inherited some of that saintly patience but even mellowed out by the years of meditation, he quickly became exasperated with Jesse. Soon enough, at least half the base was sick of his antics.
After three weeks, Jesse finally caved and sent Hanzo a short message When it only succeeded in distracting him for a few minutes, he sent another, longer one. Then another that took him all afternoon to write.
What had started with a simple "how've you been?" ended up turning into nightly long-winded letters that went nowhere. He found himself going on and on about nothing in particular; if the thought entered his head, he wrote it down, much like how their conversations had gone. By the end of the month, Jesse had sent dozens of messages, hoping and wondering if and when Hanzo would finally reply.
Cuanto tiempo tardara?
O no es para todos?
Por qué de mí se esconderá?
Dónde está?
Hanzo never did answer. Jesse consoled himself with the knowledge that he simply didn't have the time, or couldn't. That led into an insane spiral of wondering if Hanzo was alright, if he was unable to respond because he was captured, or worse. Eventually, he went to Winston and did his best not to sound like he was begging for a status update.
Luckily, the scientist hadn't read too far into McCree's sudden interest; he was nothing more than a worried teammate concerned when his correspondence got no reply. Good thing too, since nothing good would come of the entire base jumping to conclusions or making assumptions, about him or Hanzo or even how the mission was going.
Unfortunately, Winston hadn't heard from Hanzo in some time either. All he could offer was Hanzo's last check-in, and Jesse happily accepted the holovid.
McCree spent an absurd amount of time watching and rewatching the video. Nothing important had been exchanged in the short, six minute report, just basic information on the mission and its objectives, but Jesse nonetheless found himself studying his face.
He picked up the subtleties of Hanzo's expressions, how his brows were set and how they dipped lower when he was thinking over his words before answering. He could tell when Hanzo had grown bored, when something Winston said rubbed him the wrong way. They were tiny shifts in his professional exterior that Jesse was beginning to understand the more he looked at them.
The last two minutes were the most fascinating. When the scientist asked after Hanzo, how he was holding up and if he had any messages he wanted to pass along, something strange had happened. The archer looked momentarily confused, embarrassed even, before slipping back into his usual stoicism. It lasted for half a second at most, but Jesse had caught the way Hanzo's face had transformed.
It was a look he knew all too well. Jesse realised that he'd worn that same expression years ago when he first joined Overwatch. He'd been just as surprised then, as Hanzo was now, that someone had cared enough to ask if he was alright.
Hanzo had said yes, he was fine and that there was nothing he had to say to the team. The report ended shortly thereafter, but the brief glimpse past Hanzo's façade had Jesse's best clenching
The bitter uncertainty, the skepticism, wondering what it was someone really wanted, was something he was intensely familiar with. Jesse had long since learned to only give as much as he got, but knew it wasn't the ideal way to deal with his insecurities. He didn’t know when it had begun, but It looked like Hanzo was suffering from the same issue.
He sat there, in his bunk, scratching at his beard. If he could, he'd like to spare Hanzo that heartache, of always doubting Overwatch's intentions. It was the least he could, as a friend.
Quiero amar y sin pensar entregarlo todo.
Quiero que mi corazón intercambie su lugar con el de alguien especial.
Jesse spent the better part of the next week getting a party together for the day Hanzo contacted Winston for a pick up. He tried to keep a low profile, going into town early in the morning and coming back later at night, carting supplies back to his room when he was sure mostly everyone would be asleep. Once, he ran into Lena, and had to act as if he’d been spending the day at a bar. He wasn’t sure if she bought his excuse, but she didn’t press him on it.
The only person he’d told of his plan was Genji, and only because he’d been the only one to notice how McCree had suddenly stopped running after them. Surprisingly, Genji had been all for it, not only agreeing to keep his secret but lending him a hand as well. And when the call for extraction had finally come through, he’d brought in Hana and Lucio to help finish setting things up.
McCree had been somewhat evasive when asked why they were going through so much trouble for the surly archer, but Genji provided the perfect excuse. Hanzo was his brother, after all. Why wouldn’t he want to do something nice for him? For his part, he never questioned Jesse, who wasn’t entirely sure what his own reason was anymore.
Soon, they’d gathered the rest of the team into the lounge and waited. Jesse felt his nerves escalating as the minutes ticked down, though outwardly he remained as laid back and nonchalant as usual. He couldn’t put his finger on why he felt so apprehensive about something as simple as a welcome home party.
When Athena announced Hanzo had touched down, he felt himself freeze. Lena zipped into the room moments later, grinning from ear to ear as she hushed them all. Unsure of what to do with himself, Jesse stood off to the side until Genji beckoned him over, holding a banner with some of the others. He trod over awkwardly and grabbed a corner in his hand, feeling self-conscious. Genji’s hand on his shoulder, the heavy weight and gentle squeeze, calmed him down some.
He might not fully understand the confusing swirl of emotions, but the cyborg being there, a quiet support, gave him the courage he needed to swallow them down.
Then Hanzo walked in and they raged harder than ever. He felt his breath hitch, heart pounding in his chest. The archer paused, blinking slowly in surprise as the room erupted into cheers. He looked exhausted, dark circles under his eyes, clothes wrinkled like he’d worn them for several days straight. Suddenly, Jesse wasn’t so sure the party was what Hanzo needed right then. When Hanzo merely stood there, face blank, Jesse felt his face heat in embarrassment.
“Well don’t just stand there old man, come on,” Hana snarked, commout as she recorded. “This party’s for you, the least you could do is act surprised.”
In an entirely uncharacteristic voice, Hanzo answered quietly. “For me?”
And like that, the tension was broken. Genji surged forward, throwing his arms over his brother’s shoulder and babbling in Japanese. Reinhardt called for drinks and Lucio started the music and within seconds, the moment was gone. Jesse watched as Hanzo was passed from person to person, a drink shoved into his hand by Lena as she zipped around handing them out. Winston and Morrison congratulated him on a job well done, pulling him aside slightly as he began to look overwhelmed.
Jesse felt his heart slow down, unable to keep a grin from his lips. He might not fully appreciate it yet, but Hanzo would eventually. It was moments like these, simple and easy, that he would look back on when things weren’t.
Genji came over to stand next to him, bumping him with his elbow. “Thank you for putting this together, Jesse.”
He shook his head and shrugged. “It’s nothing nobody else wouldn’t’ve done.”
“Perhaps, but they weren’t the ones who did. Not even I.” He fixed Jesse with a knowing look before turning back to his brother. “He needed this, and you gave it to him. So thank you.”
…
He’d been chatting with Angela, the doctor in the midst of chiding him on his many vices, again, when he glanced over her head and locked eyes with Hanzo. He didn’t know how long he’d been watching him, but he flashed him a wide smile. The archer looked away, his attention going back to Mei as she went on about something excitedly. Jesse felt his face fall slightly at that. OK, so things still weren’t quite right between them. He’d have to figure something else out.
“Ah,” Angela muttered, and his attention snapped back to her as she looked over her shoulder at Hanzo.
Jesse said nothing, taking a sip of his whiskey. He could barely taste it, but the burning in his throat match the heat on his face as she glanced back at McCree.
“Just go talk to him,” she said.
“Nah, he’s busy,” he waved her off, eyes glued to his drink. “I’ll get around to it later.”
She said something under her breath in Swedish that sounded vaguely insulting as she pulled out her comms unit. “I have to go, my samples are ready,” she sighed, looking between Jesse and the archer. “And you should to, before you miss your chance.”
He glanced up as she left, catching Hanzo as he straightened from a slight bow. Genji got to his feet too, clasping hands with his brother, sharing quiet words. He inclined his head towards Jesse and Hanzo merely shook his head, frowning, before he turned to leave. Genji put his hands on his hips and shot Jesse a look. Like a fool, he stood there until the cyborg rolled his eyes and threw his hands out, clearly telling him to go after Hanzo.
Cursing, he swallowed the last of his whiskey for luck. He was probably going to need it.
Out in the hall, he caught sight of Hanzo as he reached the stairwell leading up to their bunks and tried to call out to him. But the words wouldn’t come, trapped there in his throat by his heart. What should he even say? Was there anything to say?
Hanzo beat him to it. “Yes, McCree?”
He sounded tired and with his back turned to Jesse, he couldn’t tell it was because of the mission, the party or him.
“Ah,” he began, forcing his mouth to work. “Welcome back.”
It knew it sounded lame the second he said it and with Hanzo sighing, turning back to look at him, crossing his arms, undoubtedly the archer thought so too. “Leaving so soon?” he tried again, trying not to cringe at his own stupidity. He should get closer instead of just standing there a dozen feet apart.
“Yes, it’s been a long day,”” Hanzo said, “I’d like to get to sleep as soon as possible.”
“Yeah, I’d imagine,” he murmured, rubbing at a crick in his neck. “I won’t keep you then.”
Neither of them moved, despite the conversation trailing off into relative silence. Jesse didn’t quite know what to do with himself, and when he looked at Hanzo, he saw he didn’t either.
“Would you…” Hanzo asked quietly, pausing to consider his words. “Would you like to have a nightcap before bed?”
“Sure, I’d be willing to,” he said eagerly, too late to temper his enthusiasm. Hanzo either didn’t catch it or didn’t care to comment on it. “I don’t have any hooch on me though. I could go back and nick us a bottle of something.”
“That won’t be necessary.” Hanzo explained, reaching in his bag and bring out a pure white bottle. “I brought a bottle of sake with me. It’s as good a time as any to drink, wouldn’t you agree?”
With a slight chuckle, Jesse found he couldn’t argue.
The two of them made their way outside and sat by the cliffside under the cover of moonlight. Despite his foresight, Hanzo hadn’t brought any glasses with him, so they took turns taking swigs straight from the bottle. For a long while, they simply sat side by side, listening to the wind and the waves, letting the sake settle warm in their bellies. Finally, after a month and a half of jittery nerves and general unrest, Jesse felt contentment settle over him. God, how he’d missed this.
“I wasn’t expecting such a warm welcome,” Hanzo said, his voice suddenly loud in the relative quiet.
“It was a pretty good surprise, huh?” Jesse smiled at him and Hanzo nodded.
“Yes, it was. Thank you for that, by the way,” he added, eyeing McCree as he sputtered. “Genji told me you the one who organised the party.”
He made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat and held his hand out for the sake. “Wasn’t nothing.”
Hanzo frowned, looking away as Jesse drank. “I am… grateful for your thoughtfulness. It was good, to feel a part of something for a few hours after being alone for so many weeks. If I weren’t so tired, I would have stayed and appreciated the gesture for a bit longer.”
Jesse watched him out of the corner of his eye, surprised at how open Hanzo was. The sake must have really been getting to him. “Well, good then. I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”
“I still am,” the archer admitted, giving Jesse a rare smile. “I’ve always enjoyed your company, above those of others.”
He had to turn away at that, struggling to maintain his posture. McCree didn’t know how to follow up on Hanzo’s compliment and lapsed into silence. Thankfully it wasn’t light enough out for the red creeping up his neck to show.
“I shouldn’t have said that,” Hanzo said, the hard clack of porcelain on stone, drawing Jesse’s attention. “Forgive me, I read the moment wrong.”
Hanzo hurried to his feet, and began to leave when Jesse grabbed his hand, standing. “No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I don’t really know what to do with myself in situations like these. I ain’t received many compliments neither, so I ain’t all that good with ‘em.
“‘specially when it comes to you,” he added, dropping Hanzo’s hand. “I never expected nothing to happen, and when it did I didn’t see it for what it was.”
He looked at his feet and shrugged. “And now I’m fucking it all up again.”
Gently, Hanzo’s hand was at his cheek, lifting his face. His expression read stern, but after countless hours of watching his face, Jesse could pick out the uncertainty, the flicker of something small and raw in his eyes.
“You confuse me, Jesse McCree,” he said. “You say so much and yet so little. Tell me… do you want me to stay? Or tell me to go, but just speak plainly.”
He opened his mouth to answer but couldn’t. The lump in his throat wouldn’t let his voice come out, even if he had known which ones to say. He gave Hanzo a pleading look and felt something in him die as the other man’s face shuttered down, releasing Jesse’s face. His skin felt cold where his hand had been.
His heart ached as Hanzo turned, his ears filled with the roar of his heartbeat as he took the first step away, something indescribably important leaving him as the moment stretched on impossibly long. So Jesse did the one thing he could when words failed him, when for all his wit and charm, the situation only escalated.
He grabbed at Hanzo’s sleeved, gripping his forearm and spun him back around. Surprise clear on the other man’s face, he pulled him in close, hand at his neck. Without a second thought, not a moment to doubt the pounding in his chest, he crushed his lips to his.
Eyes screwed shut, he desperately urged Hanzo to understand, to know, to feel what, at the center of his raging emotions, he failed to see himself all those days ago. Jesse felt Hanzo freeze, stiff in his hold, mouth unmoving against his own and for one terrifying minute, as he kissed for all he was worth, thought maybe he had been the one reading the situation wrong. When Hanzo’s hand pushed against his chest, forcing him back, he knew he had.
They were both breathing heavily, Jesse himself barely keeping from a panic attack, but Hanzo kept him firmly in place. He thought he heard the other man chuckle and his eyes flew open, searching the face before him.
“I can’t say I was honestly expecting that,” Hanzo said breathlessly.
“I didn’t…” Jesse gasped, fumbling for what to say that could possibly make things better. “I shouldn’t have--”
“No,” Hanzo interrupted him, hand fisting in Jesse’s shirt. “You cannot take that back. I won’t let you.”
Confused, McCree stood mutely, watching Hanzo’s expression shift, eyes glinting slyly. “I think you’ve made yourself quite clear. Though I have to say, you are a terrible kisser.”
Jesse couldn’t help but grin, large and toothy. “Well then, I guess you’ll just have to teach me.”
Quiero despertar, te quiero encontrar y me quiero enamorar.
He lay on his back, looking up at the ceiling of a room that wasn’t his, having woken up to sunlight streaming in through an open window. Body sore with that all-over ache after a night full of strenuous activity, Jesse’s memories came back to him in a rush. They done it, after months of the push-pull, will they won’t they, he’d finally fallen into bed with Hanzo.
McCree rolled over, fighting off a cramp that threatened to develop in his right calf and smiled to himself. Despite the way he’d knew he struggle to stay upright in the morning, he felt beyond good. It had been a long while since he’d been truly satisfied. Shifting his gaze to the bathroom as the door slid open, Hanzo stepping out with a towel around his waist, hair wet, he felt that more than just bodily.
“Stop staring,” Hanzo said, mostly joking. Jesse chuckled, sitting upright. “Ain’t nothing I haven’t seen before.”
Hanzo blushed, and cleared his throat. “You didn’t get enough before?”
“I don’t think I’ll ever get enough, darlin’.” The fact that, after what they’d been doing, Hanzo was almost shy was adorable. Not that he’d admit it, if asked. He save them both that embarrassment.
Hanzo busied himself at his wardrobe, pulling out a dark shirt. He didn’t look at Jesse when he continued to speak. “Feel free to use the shower, if you’d like.”
The way he said it rubbed Jesse the wrong way, but he got up anyway and washed off. The water was hot and soothed his muscles. He stayed under the spray longer than was necessary, trying to figure out what happened next before he got out.
“There are clean towels under the sink,” Hanzo said from outside the bathroom as he turned off the water. Feeling like something bad was waiting for him on the other side of the door, Jesse took his time drying off, but eventually couldn’t stall any longer. He walked back into the room to Hanzo combing through his hair, mostly dressed.
“You may borrow a set of my clothes until you can get back to your own room to change,” he said matter-of-factly, pointing to the pair of shorts and white t-shirt on the already dressed down bed.
“I’ll just wear my own duds, thanks,” he muttered and Hanzo shrugged. He didn’t like how strange and tense they were suddenly and he frowned, scrubbing a hand over his face. Picking up his clothes, he stared at them but made no move to actually change.
“Han--”
“Jesse, don’t,” he cut him off, turning to face him. His features were pinched and the expression pulled at his heartstrings. Jesse dropped to the bed, dropping his head into his hands as he tried to understand what was happening. And why it hurt so bad.
“What’s going on, Hanzo? It feels like you're trying to kick me out.”
“That’s not entirely untrue,” the archer said and he whipped his head up, suddenly furious. “Last night, I pushed you too far. We were drinking and neither of us were in our right minds, not--”
“Stop right there,” McCree spat out, letting his anger slash through his words. “Don’t say another damn word, Hanzo.”
He clamped his mouth shut wisely, eyes narrowing. Good, let him get angry. “I came here knowing full well what I was getting into. Alcohol or not, Hanzo, I wanted last night to happen. And yeah, maybe you did push me.”
Hanzo made to interrupt him, but he barrelled on. “But it was a good thing. I was damn scared, Hanzo, a goddamn coward, afraid of what saying yes would mean, what it could lead to, because this thing,” he thumped a fist over his heart, glaring at the other man, “this stupid thing beats crazy fast when I’m around you and I know what that means and it terrifies me.
“For months, I’ve been trying to figure out what the hell I should do. I wrote you messages, tried to put things back the way they were before but nothing worked. I can’t go back. I realised I was tired of saying no. So when you asked me to say yes, I did.”
He felt the anger leave him and Jesse deflated, sagging. “So what you’re doin’ right now, it’s killing me, Hanzo. Because I said yes, because I can’t deny what I feel, not anymore. And I’m gonna keeping saying yes, even if kills me.”
“Don’t say no, not now,” he whispered, pleading.
Jesse waited for Hanzo to say something, anything, watching a tick in his jaw work as he ground his teeth. He felt his heart rip in two when he gave him his back, unable to look at his face any longer. He’d finally felt something, for once in his life, and he’d let himself want it bad enough to try for it. Now that he’d tasted a flicker of that thing he couldn’t bring himself to name, Jesse couldn’t shutter himself off from it. It hurt too much to deny now. He didn’t know what hurt worse anymore.
Hanzo padded towards him, stopping in front of his knees and he looked up into Hanzo’s face. He looked ashamed, holding out his comm towards Jesse, silently offering it. He took it, not knowing what to do until Hanzo pointed down at the screen, the familiar Overwatch inbox open to a number of drafts.
“I got your messages,” Hanzo said, sitting next to him, pressing a finger to one of the drafts. “You were not the only coward in this room, Jesse.”
His eyes drifted down, reading the short reply to his own message, sent weeks ago. “I wrote an answer to every last one, but didn’t have the courage to send any. I didn’t know how you would react, after the night you rebuked my advances.
“To use your words,” he added, inhaling deeply, “I was afraid you’d say no again.”
His hand drifted to his mouth as he read over Hanzo’s replies, who waited still as stone next to him to finish. The replies had started as short as his own, growing longer as they went on, mirroring Jesse’s, then going further past anything he’d sent. Hanzo mentioned how the night sky was darker, the stars the same but less bright. He went on to admit how alone he felt, how he missed being able to go to Jesse for a drink and a nonsensical joke.
He said how sorry he was that he’d tried, and failed, to express himself appropriately, how he’d let them go back to being friends when he returned as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Jesse had to wipe at his eyes as he read how Hanzo missed him enough to let him be, how foolish he was to think of him as anything other than a friend.
Jesse turned to look at Hanzo with a lopsided smile. “We’re both a couple of idiots, aren’t we?”
When Hanzo started laughing, he did too. The situation was too absurd to not. After, he felt scrubbed raw, but better. He reached for Hanzo’s hands, turning them over as he studied the callouses, the scars and nicks that dotted the skin. “I meant what I said, Hanzo. I don’t regret last night. I meant it when I said yes. Did you?”
Hanzo tried to look away, but his eyes shifted to McCree as he nodded. “I did. I still do.”
He pulled Hanzo’s hand out of his lap and placed it on his chest, right above his heart. “You feel this, right? This is my heart saying yes, it wants you. Not just for last night, but for today too. And tomorrow.”
“For how long?” Hanzo breathed, splaying his fingers out as he pressed his forehead to Jesse’s.
“For however long you’ll have me,” he answered, holding his gaze steadily. “I wanted it now for so long, I have to keep saying yes.”
“Wanted what?” Hanzo replied,
“Love,” he said simply. “I wanna fall in love.”