Chapter Text
Chapter 1: True Meaning
Hanzo Shimada was a puzzle. Every time Cassidy thought he had an understanding of the archer, the man contradicted every preconceived notion the gunslinger had. It infuriated the former Blackwatch agent. One moment the trained ninja was a stone cold assassin and in a blink of an eye the man was a smart-alec with a brilliantly smug tilt to his lips.
It burned Cassidy the wrong way.
He prided himself on understanding people. Particularly difficult people. His entire life had relied on figuring out potential threats, identifying targets, and hiding from aggressive lawmen. Meeting Genji’s older brother strangled Cassidy’s perfect score. Hanzo was the aloof yakuza boss as expected, yet out of place and putting up the bravado to mask his discomfort. This perception remained until a dismal firefight ended Cole’s contribution with a bullet to his right shoulder.
Hanzo’s sky blue dragons came out of nowhere. Their static charge tingling the hair on his skin as they rushed past. Cole’s eyes caught the terror filled, screaming figures of Talon soldiers. Abrupt pain of someone ripping away his shirt and pressing a hemostasis bandage claimed his last moment of clarity. The archer himself held the bandages in place. “Do they not teach you how to dodge?” Hanzo huffed, pressing harder against Cole’s bleeding shoulder.
At the time those words meant exactly what they were. An insult to Blackwatch and to Overwatch as a whole. Cole filed it away as such. But it never felt right.
He had gotten to know Hanzo by then. At least more than the stiff professional mercenary running from his past. The men shared a money making scheme, even if their method of choosing targets were distinctly opposite. Their long nights of drinking and arguing about the virtues of doing the right thing versus filling the bank account had brought them closer. Made things more friendly. Never changed how Cassidy suffered pinpoint accurate stings against his person or choices. Always when he had a close call. It all got him thinking.
Now Cole liked words. He used them freely to make the precise points needed or linger upon the beauty of a story. For the gunslinger, words meant exactly what the dictionary said. Not to say Cassidy didn’t manipulate his words to get desired results. But even loaded with innuendo or backhanded compliments, Cole Cassidy used his expansive vocabulary for precision.
The danger came when words took on a completely separate definition. A secret language that Cole couldn’t decipher, but one he kept getting whiffs of. Particularly when Hanzo disapproved of Cole’s less than careful methods. It was one of these times when Hanzo paused to study Cassidy’s body armor. “That should have been replaced.”
“I’ll get right on that.” Cole muttered. “As soon as this mission is done.” Brigette had repaired the chest piece as best she could, but it was only a patch upon thousands of patches.
“Then I expect to see you standing on our return.” Hanzo’s dark tone soured Cole’s preparation. Moodily he jammed his hat over his eyes, crossed his arms and hunkered down for the flight. Yet his brain kept twisting those words over and over. Yes they had bothered him, but why would Hanzo make such a point. It wasn’t helpful. And nobody planned to get injured. It just happened.
They hadn’t even done more than drink and talk. They were friends at best. Drinking buddies at the very least. Yet the nagging suspicion grew. But how to prove it? Coming right out and confronting the archer was a sure fire way to get the man to clam up. And while Cole could complete undercover operations, he wasn’t that good of an actor to fool those who knew him.
It took until a clear full moon with high quality sake and some dirt cheap moonshine for Cassidy to corner the archer. “You owe me an explanation.”
Hanzo arched his eyebrow before returning his gaze to the brilliantly reflective natural satellite. “Do I?”
“I don’t get you. In one breath you insult me and everything I am—.”
“Stop there, Cole.” Hanzo glared at him. “Questioning your sanity in regards to personal safety is not an insult. Wanting you to remain alive should be a given. Since you are dense enough to not read between the lines, it makes me wonder why I have ever bothered.” Importantly Hanzo did not pack up his sake set and leave. The archer lowered his cup in exchange for the slim traditional pipe he occasionally smoked during their drinking binges. “Do I really have to spell it out for you?”
That ended every speck of doubt. Cassidy downed his last shot of moonshine. The harsh bite burning the entire way to his belly. There it pooled into something warm. “No. I guess not.” He let a small smile loose. “But do you have to make every word you say sound so callous?”
“Yes.” Hanzo’s deadpan expression and his simple answer sent Cole into a fit of hysterics. “When you’re done wheezing, we can discuss the next appropriate stage of this…” Hanzo waved between them, apparently unable to define their relationship.
With laughter bubbling with every breath, Cole made the whole thing simpler by dropping his arm across Hanzo’s broad shoulders and leaning in close. “Now I think we’re speaking the same language.”