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Wasn't Plannin' On It

Summary:

Cassidy’s had a lot of luck lately. Too much luck, one could say. Almost like it ain't just 'luck'.

Cassidy has his suspicions.

Notes:

I wanted to post this in time for Yeehan Week, but I got busy so it's a bit late lol. Hope y'all still enjoy this fic which was inspired by the 'Good Luck Charm' prompt!

Work Text:

‘Luck’ ain’t a strategy, Cassidy knows that, but when all else fails, it’s a back-up plan. Sometimes, it’s the best plan you're gonna get. More than once, Cassidy’s spent the night after a mission lookin’ up into the dark sky so he could thank his lucky stars that he was alive. He tries not to make a habit of relyin’ on luck, but Cassidy won’t deny it’s saved his sorry ass more times than he cares to count. Luck’s a fickle thing, and he’s just glad to have it when he does. As of late, Cassidy’s been real glad because he’s had a lotta luck. 

 

An unnatural amount of luck, one could say.

 

It’d started ‘bout a year back, if he recalls it right. Maybe give or take a month. Started small, like anything does, so he can’t say for certain what the exact first instance was, but he remembers the first time he noticed it.

 

It was after a particularly rough mission where they'd all come back near dead on their feet, himself one of the worse off of the group. After all, it ain't any normal kind of tired that'd make a cowboy forget his hat, and that’s ‘xactly what Cassidy did. Angela had fixed him up and allowed him to leave the infirmary, and he didn’t remember much after that. He didn’t remember where he left it, or if it just fell off when he was draggin’ himself back to his room, but somewhere along the way, he lost his hat. Didn't even realize it ‘til the next mornin’ when he woke up, still dressed in the same outfit as the day before but with his hat nowhere to be found. With a groan, he got ready to exhaust himself again since he'd likely be searchin’ the entire Watchpoint for it, and his injuries were gonna be bitchin’ at him the whole time. But to his surprise, when he opened the door so he could start his hunt, there it was. Perched right there, right on the door handle, hung his hat. It looked the same as he last saw it, no dust or dirt or nothin’. Cassidy heaved a sigh of relief and swore that he’d thank Angela later for bringin’ it back to him. When she asked what he was talkin’ ‘bout, Cassidy had just waved it off with a smile. He’d figure out who it was and thank ‘em later. 

 

Thinkin’ back on it, he never did get ‘round to figurin’ who it was and thankin’ ‘em. That was then, ‘course. Now, he’s got his suspicions - more than suspicions, actually.

 

One of the more leadin’ clues he’s managed to pick up on came when he was when he was havin’ some trouble with sleep and decided to wear himself out in the gym. It’s nothin’ too uncommon to see the members of Overwatch unable to sleep and usin’ the base’s resources to work themselves into a slumber - it’s actually fairly (unfortunately) common. It meant that Cassidy wasn’t too surprised to see a shadow slinkin’ away from the trainin’ area while he walked to it. From the blurry silhouette in the dim light, Cassidy reckoned he knew who it was, and he decided to let the man be. Neither was a stranger to late-night bouts of self-loathin’, so Cassidy knew better than to assume he’d be welcome. Instead, he let the distant shadow fade into the night and made his own way to the gym. He couldn’t even recall what he ended up doin’ that night, but by the time he was done, his body felt stiff as wood and hot like he was bein’ used to fuel a fire. On the way back to his bedroom, Cassidy passed by the kitchen to grab some water. However, he couldn’t help but notice that there was a kettle on the stove, an empty mug sittin’ oh-so-innocently nearby. A quick glance in the sink revealed a matching mug, but this one had clearly been used. It was a clear invitation if Cassidy’d ever seen one. He filled the cup with the tea - no longer hot but still warm - and took a sip. Despite the fact he was still a fever-hot mess from the gym, he found that he didn’t quite mind the way it warmed his throat and chest. He took the tea back to his bedroom with him, and he found that it was much easier fallin’ asleep after that.

 

And maybe that’s when Cassidy shoulda guessed somethin’ was up, but he knows what they say ‘bout assumin’ things. He’s not tryin’ to make an ass outta himself, so he didn’t jump to any conclusions. That’s not to say he hadn’t been hopin’, which ya could argue may be even worse, but there’s some battles that Cassidy knows he’ll never win. So he just went on, pretendin’ he didn’t notice all the times he forgot to put an order in for his ammo and yet it still showed up just ‘fore he ran out. Or when his frequently misplaced lighter magically found its way back onto his dresser, as if it’d never been gone in the first place. He wasn’t fool enough to get his hopes up, but well, it’s kinda hard not to when the facts start lookin’ like his hopes.

 

Now let it be known to all who’ll listen - Cole Cassidy ain’t a romantic. He's not the type to wax poetic or make grand proclamations or swear everlastin’ oaths. He doesn’t need the kinda love that'll shake his world to the ground or that will teach him the meanin’ of life. That just isn't his kinda lovin’. Hell, even he ain't even sure what his kinda lovin’ is!

 

(When he thinks ‘bout it, he thinks that sleep-calm eyes meetin’ his own across the table in the mornin’ is a mighty fine place to start.)

 

Part of him kinda wished the lucky coincidences would just stop so he wouldn’t have to think about it anymore. The other part of him was warm like a sidewalk under the summer sun, absolutely pleased as punch. Cassidy tries not to let it take over the better portion of his thoughts.

 

He’s tryin’ his damndest, he truly is, but it’s awful hard with both of them livin’ in the same damn buildin’. He couldn’t go even a single day without runnin’ into the very same person Cassidy was tryin’ to avoid. Comin’ out of one of the training rooms, walkin’ through the halls, sittin’ across from Cassidy durin’ debriefs - the man was just ‘bout everywhere!

 

Such as right now, for example. The common area’s a popular spot ‘round the evenin’, and tonight’s no exception. Game night hadn’t been somethin’ Cassidy’d been expectin’ to come back to, given that the recall had been a whole last-ditch, world’s-goin’-up-in-flames emergency, but that’ll teach him to expect anything. Isn’t like the bunch o’ them could be on missions all the time anyway. Gotta be discreet and all that. So they have game nights. Somethin’ to pass the time, and if they’re honest, to keep ‘em all a bit more sane. (Can’t have the past repeatin’ itself, the dark part of Cassidy’s mind whispers, shakin’ like a newborn deer with an injured leg.)

 

The cowboy usually sits himself down at the kitchen table and gets dealt into whatever card game’s gotten started. Unfortunately, Reinhardt, Torbjorn and Zarya are all out on missions right now, leavin’ the table too short of people to play anything fun. Turning to Mei, who he’s promised to teach Blackjack, he apologizes with a light grin, taking his hat from ‘top his head and holdin’ it to his chest in a playfully dramatic apology. Mei giggles at his antics, gently swattin’ his arm with less force than the flap of a butterfly’s wing.

 

“Silly man,” her voice bubbles between giggles. “You will just have to teach me another time. There are still other games that can be played tonight!.”

 

“Right ya are, sunshine,” he answers roguishly. “The world’s our oyster.” Mei laughs even more at his ridiculous sayin’. “Now, what’s your second choice of entertainment?”

 

“Mei! Over here!”

 

Cassidy and Mei both look over to the couch, where Hana was wavin’ at ‘em with a contagiously bright smile. She was seated on the couch, legs crossed and a bowl of popcorn in her lap. A controller in her hands blinks with light, addin’ to the excitement of the music blarin’ from the speakers that announce that it’s time to ‘Choose Your Character!’ “Come here, play with us!” Hana gleefully demands, beckonin’ the pair over with the excited wavin’ of her hands even though Mei is already takin’ a spot on the couch next to the energetic woman.

 

‘Us’, as it turns out, includes an equally hyped-up Lucio, competitively leanin’ forward in his seat as his eyes light up with a wild excitement. And, just Cassidy’s luck, it also includes Hanzo, who’s glarin’ at the controller in his hands and turnin’ it over like it’s gonna have instructions hidden somewhere. Cassidy could laugh at how ridiculously endearin’ he finds it. In fact, he does - his laugh, airy as dandelion fluff, is the softest Cassidy’s ever heard himself. So gentle, in fact, that it seems like the only one who hears it is Hanzo, who glances up as he feels the couch’s weight shift next to him. Hanzo lifts a curious brow at the cowboy’s amusement, and it makes Cassidy’s chest feel even warmer.

 

“Hey there, archer,” Cassidy says breezily, a crooked grin on his lips as he rests one arm ‘long the back of the couch. With the way Hanoz’s sittin’ - at an angle, facin’ more towards the television with his back part against the armrest and part against the actual couch - Cassidy’s not actually touchin’ him, but if Hanzo were to lean just ‘bit to the side, his shoulder’d be pressed right ‘gainst Cassidy’s forearm. Even from here, Cassidy can feel the warmth of Hanzo on his skin and it sends a soft sorta anticipation through him. He doesn’t get the time to be distracted by that though because Hanzo’s subtle, barely-there smile takes his full attention without even tryin’.

 

“Hello to you as well, cowboy,” Hanzo replies pointedly, his voice akin to the pleased rumblin’ of a cat rubbin’ ‘gainst Cassidy’s leg. His eyes, deep and dark as coffee ‘fore the break of dawn, fix their focus on Cassidy. The controller sits in his lap now, blinkin’ in a pouty bid for attention. “Have you come to join us for the next round?”

 

Glancin’ at Mei, who is now scrolling through the character options as Hana and Lucio yell out their personal choices, Cassidy turns back to Hanzo with a lazy shrug. “‘Suppose so, from the looks of it.”

 

Heavin’ out a sigh of what seems to be relief, Hanzo quickly shoves the controller in Cassidy’s hands. “Good,” he answers shortly, a sly edge sneakin’ into his smile. Cassidy may choke on his own breath if he isn’t careful - mischief looks awful good on Hanzo. He’s a fan. “Then it is your turn to fight these menaces.”

 

Cassidy blinks as the words process before laughin’, tossin’ his head back as the carefree sound nearly drowns out Hana’s affronted scoff. “Menaces?!” she scowls, playfully offended. “It’s not our fault you keep losing! You’re awful at this game!”

 

Hanzo shakes his head and clicks his tongue, his own dry humor showin’ itself. “It’s no fault of mine that this game has illogical controls. I’m not the one in the wrong here.”

 

Hana’s about to retort, mouth open with a comeback, when Cassidy leans forward to break their line of sight. He put his hands out, mock-placatingly, with a chuckle. “Whoa now, no need to get into a tussle ‘bout it. Here, gimme that controller so I can show ‘em how it’s done, yeah?”

 

“Yes, please do.” All too happy to do so, Hanzo passes the controller into the cowboy’s hand and leans back against the couch, settling in to watch. For a moment, Cassidy regrets agreein’ to take Hanzo’s place in the roster, wishin’ he coulda kept his arm on the couch so Hanzo’d be leanin’ on it. But he’s already made his decision, and ‘least Hanzo’s thigh is still pressed against Cassidy’s own as the 3-seater couch is crowded with 4 people. That’s still somethin’.

 

“Hell yeah, Cassidy, get in here!” Lucio cheers at the same time that Hana yells, “You’re going to regret saying that, old timer!” Mei giggles her delighted giggle at the passionate spirits of the younger agents before offering a lighthearted, playful cheer of, “Go Cassidy!”

 

Cassidy preens at the hootin’ and hollerin’, sittin’ up straight with a fiery gleam in his eye. “Watch n’ learn, ya'll, ‘cause I'm gonna show ya what a real winner looks like.” Hanzo’s rumblin’ chuckle is louder in his ears than Lucio and Hana's competitive jabs and challenges. When Cassidy glances back at him outta the corner of his eye, Hanzo’s lookin’ right back at him. Their gazes hold for couple heartbeats, somethin’ warm and gold and honey-like ‘fore Hanzo breaks it, glancin’ away with an emotion that Cassidy can’t name but that he knows familiarly. He knows ‘cause he's seen that ‘xact same expression in the mirror. Gives him a sweet sorta heartburn to see it reflected back at him. He can’t look ‘way from it.

 

“As if!” Hana challenges, jammin’ her thumbs against some of the buttons ‘til the screen changes, announcin’ the start of the match. “I'm going to beat you so fast that you won't even know what hit you!”

 

Cassidy chuckles, deep and rollin’ like the ocean waves. “We'll see ‘bout that, Miss D.va,” he replies smoothly, but his eyes are still on Hanzo. He feels a surge of courage twistin' inside him, feels it like a tornado poundin' 'gainst his lungs and ribs. He clears his throat a bit and decides 'here goes nothin' while a quiet hope tangles 'round his heart. “I'm feelin’ pretty good ‘bout this one. I even got my lucky charm with me today.” He keeps his sights on Hanzo, hopin' that the weight of his eyes and the sly pointedness of his words will catch the archer's attention.

 

The words get Cassidy the reaction he wants; Hanzo’s eyes widen a fraction as he shoots another look towards Cassidy, discreetly peerin’ at him from the corner of his eye. Cassidy, still enjoyin’ lookin’ at the archer, catches the reaction immediately and shoots Hanzo a sly wink. Hanzo blinks a few times while his lips fall open, tryin’ their damndest to push out some excuse for this unspoken arrangement he started. He looks so panicked, a flush like poison ivy takin’ over his cheeks. It's a charmin’ look, but Cassidy knows that Hanzo usually scurries off like a squirrel when he gets to makin’ that face. Quick, just as Hanzo is ‘bout to stand up and make an attempt at an excuse to escape, Cassidy crosses an ankle over one of the Shimada's. It makes Hanzo stumble back into sittin’, the motion so quick that it didn't catch the attention of the other agents in the room. 

 

“Aw, c’mon now,” Cassidy murmurs lowly, keepin’ his voice quiet, only for Hanzo's ears. “Ya can’t just leave me like that. What'm I supposed to do without my good luck charm?” Hanzo’s breath hitches for half a second and Cassidy catches the reaction like a firefly ‘tween his hands, leanin’ in like he could draw it out. “Ya ain't that cruel, darlin’. I know ya ain't. ‘Specially with just how sweet ya seem on me.”

 

Hanzo’s eyes follow the words as they're formed on Cassidy’s lips. At the emphasis he puts on Hanzo’s sweet treatment of the cowboy, Hanzo's breath catches and his eyes move up Cassidy’s face. They stop when they meet the rich brown of Cassidy’s warm gaze, and Hanzo allows himself to lean into the heated tension of moment.

 

“‘Sweet,’ am I?” Hanzo asks, his own lips twitchin’ at the implications. “Such an accusation would ruin my reputation.” His skin's warm as he secretively skims the back of his hand over Cassidy’s arm, his knuckles movin’ up towards the broad shoulder. “It's best that you keep those ideas to yourself.”

 

“Oh, darlin’.” An electric shudder runs up Cassidy’s arm from the touch, and from the breathy chuckle that it earns him, he can tell Hanzo enjoys the reaction. The touch is lifted away and Cassidy has to breathe out slow to calm himself. “I'll keep any secret ya want me to,” he answers, and if it sounds ‘bit more affectionate than he intended, it don't bother him any.

 

Hanzo stares at him for a moment, somethin’ swirlin’ and mixin’ and growin’ in his eyes, but before either can say anything, a countdown begins on the television, announcing the start of the match. Both men snap to attention at the sound of a whistle, and the fightin’ and trash-talkin’ begins immediately. Hanzo’s laugh is rich and heavy as he watches the spectacle of Cassidy desperately evadin’ Hana’s targeted attacks. “You better win, cowboy,” he teases, leanin’ in close ‘nough that their shoulders brush, sendin’ warmth through Cassidy’s skin like ripples in a pond.

 

Cassidy offers a wry smirk towards Hanzo leanin’ his own shoulder against the archers this time. “With you here? Ain't a chance I'm gonna lose.” His voice holds all the confidence in the world, and Hanzo can't help but roll his eyes, even if his small smile is still so fond. “Like I said, you’re my good luck charm. I'm sure we can figure somethin’ out.”

 

(And if Hanzo’s dragons manage to sneak over to the television and pull the plug just as Cassidy's ‘bout to lose to Hana… Well, that's just a secret for the two of ‘em, ain't it?)