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“Darlin’, is your chest Mount Rushmore, ‘cuz my face should be among them,”
A sigh, “McCree,” oh, damn, here comes the impatient tone. Hawt, “What are you trying to say?"
“I’m saying i wanna put my face where it rightfully belong between those puppies and do the motorboat,”
Hanzo looked confused, brows pulled to a frown, lips turned into a slight pout, nose crinkled cutely and don’t forget that slight tilt of his head. It reminded McCree of a little coyote puppy he came across once during his days in Deadlock Gang, the cutest little critter he ever came across and is it weird that he’s getting pretty turned on while he’s comparing Hanzo to an animal, or is it just a normal because it’s basically his every reaction to Hanzo in general?
“What does a vehicle has to do with anything?”
“Ain’t talkin’ ‘bout no vehicle, but you can ride me all night long,”
“You are a man, not a transportation,”
“Like they say down south where i came from, darl’, save a horse, ride a cowboy,” he grinned lecherously, eyeing Hanzo from top to bottom, “And this cowboy won’t mind if you sit that beautiful behind on my face and ride it all night long,”
The look that Hanzo gave him was dirtier than a pile of molasses dripping down a mud slicked boot in the middle of a July heat, but he hoped that if the archer bring out his bows and arrows to play, his grin would tell that he’s ready to die with no regret.
(Hanzo did ended up bringing his arrow to play, sadly not in the fun way, but in the way that had him walking limply towards Angela’s office to have one quickly removed from his thigh, just a few inches from his crotch. The look on Angela’s face had been full of disgust, but it wasn’t as cute as the one Hanzo made, so he mostly ignored her and her speech about how he should stop bothering Hanzo so much.
Sorry, doc, no can’t do)
Jesse McCree wasn’t always like this, to be honest. Once upon a time, he was an angry kid who ran away from his abusive orphanage and ended up in the bad side of the town to join up with the baddest crew down south, ended up joining a special ops team because the asshole leader didn’t give him much choice and ended up even angrier than he has been in his entire life because said leader betrayed them and he lost his only family.
But that was near 20 years ago. Now, McCree admittedly is too old to keep the angry act up, and now it is time he become the cool guy who’d age gracefully with wisdom and maturity befitting his age because he is not the youngest around anymore and there’s kids around who needs guidance, needs his senior experience to lead them to the right way in Overwatch.
Then of course Genji Shimada more or less dragged his drop-dead gorgeous brother into Overwatch and all thoughts of maturity was gone and replaced by the hormones he forgot to develop in his teenage-hood due to his increasing anger and blood pressure.
But then, how could anyone not have a sexual awakening - or re-awakening, really, when you’re his age - when they see one Hanzo ‘How-Bout-You-Lemme-Consume-That- Dragon-Instead’ Shimada? Body looking like they’ve been sculpted from a marble piece, face so pretty McCree could stare at them for hours and wouldn’t get bored, and that deadpan, haughty attitude he had? Jesse McCree has found perfection, and he found it behind the pair of eyes that always looks exasperated whenever he’s around and started to open his mouth.
Just like now.
“So, Darlin’—“
“No,”
“Like, no, we shouldn’t waste time no mo’ so get your ass to my bedroom, or no, you don’t mind goin’ on that date i’ve been asking you for?”
“I mean no, stop talking,”
“No, stop talkin’ cuz’ we could be doin’ much more with our mouths or no, stop talkin’ and get down on—“
“McCree!”
Aw, man, “Jack,” he greeted the ex-commander, who was definitely glaring at him from behind his visors, “I see you’re still alive and kickin’ this morning,”
Morrison doesn’t seem impressed by his cheek, but damn, when is the man ever impressed with anything. Oh, that’s right, if that thing doesn’t start with Gabriel Reyes and ends with ’s Sexual Prowess. 20 years and McCree would never stop trying to wipe away the sounds of his tough as nails commander nailing the same man in front of him for 5 hours straight, all the while, poor him was trapped in the bedroom next door, something that both older men apparently forgotten.
In the next couple of months, depending on the level of alcohol in his blood that day, he may have a nightmare or a wet dream.
“McCree, keep any dirty language away from the premises, there’s children running around here,” the white haired man sternly berated him, all the while making his way to the front of the mission room. Children, he wondered how Hana and Lucio will react being called children at the respective age of 19 and 26, “And stop bothering Hanzo, Angela told me the next time you had arrows anywhere near your general vicinity, she’s not going to treat you anymore,”
The cowboy winced at the memory of said instrument being lodged deep into his thigh, and from the corner of his eyes, he could see Hanzo smirking satisfactory. Hot. Also sexy. Just for that, he’s letting it go for now, “What do you got for the two of us today?”
Morrison stopped and his voice was so dry, McCree felt so parched not a pitcher of water will lift him from the all over dryness, “The man next to you has filed 32 different cases of sexual harassment report since he got here, and you think i’m going to send just the two of you alone?”
“We have official reports for disorderly conducts?”
“Just the remnants of the system we used to implement in the old Overwatch; including racial profiling, gender discrimination, inappropriate behaviour, suspicion of being under influence, suspicion of being intoxicated, confirmed report of influence, confirmed report of intoxication, damage report and that’s not counting other new protocols that has to be implemented after Overwatch itself had been made official,” Morrison pointed at him and Hanzo by extending two fingers from the same hand, “And on that note, congratulations, you both had beaten the old Overwatch’s record by a landslide for both victim and perpetrator for the reports tally,”
“Who held the previous records for both?”
“Gabe did,” Morrison deadpanned, “With me as the victim,”
“I thought Reyes didn’t count for protocol implementation since he’s in Blackwatch?”
“He did when he keep on sneaking into my room while i’m sleeping,”
Hanzo gave Morrison a pitiful look. McCree nodded in understanding and felt rare pride for the bravery of his old ex-commander.
“But we’re digressing. No, i’m sending out a 6 person cell for this one. Athena is alerting each one of them, and McCree, i’m leaving you in charge this time around,” the cowboy whooped, and tried to grip Hanzo by the shoulder but the archer moved away before he could. He pouted a little, “Don’t get too excited, you won by default since you have most senior position in the team. Now, the team for this mission is McCree, Hanzo, Pharah, D.va, with Lucio as your support,” he stopped, and even with the mouth visor on, McCree could feel the change in Morrison’s attitude. Something a little more.. sinister, “oh, and considering the circumstances, Genji Shimada,”
“No!”
“Good,”
McCree’s jaw drop. Genji might be one of his best friends, but ever since he found out about McCree’s ‘misguided attempts for his brother’s affection’ - his words, not McCree’s - he had been openly hostile, especially when Hanzo is around. It’s not like they don’t hang out anymore, but hanging out with your best bud for a good drink or a round of card game is not the same anymore when said best bud now stop laughing at every one of your lewd jokes and start answering them with ‘That better not be about Hanzo-anija or i swear to kami, McCree’
So, despite their past, it seems that Genji has developed a brother complex ever since he got his only living relative back and needless to say, sharp katana and good aim does put a dampen in one-sided flirting.
Right on cue, footsteps filtered through the halls and into the mission briefing room, Fareeha leading the fanfare in full gear followed by a conversing Hana and Lucio, and—
Genji, his sword brandished and face mask already aimed at the distance between McCree and Hanzo.
McCree swore he felt the satisfaction rolling off from Morrison in waves when his face fell spectacularly.
“So—“
He hadn’t even managed to form words when Genji sharply turned to him, already on guard sitting right next to Hanzo. McCree winced, but Hanzo doesn’t seem to care as he continue to polish his bow, “Something you need, McCree?”
“N-nuthin’,” he mumbled as he walk away and sat dejectedly next to Fareeha. On the cockpit, Hana and Lucio watched the proceeding - the plane’s been turned to the auto-pilot system it seems - and none too quietly laughed their asses off. Maybe he’s gonna tell them that Morrison called them children after all, just to see the fireworks. He’s feeling petty enough right now.
Even Fareeha’s not on his side, the little girl he helped growing up - he helped the girl with her best insults, even under the threat of Ana’s rifle, that’s gotta count - into this not so little girl anymore, giggling at his plight. McCree felt so betrayed.
“Maybe it’s a sign,” she told him, “The universe is trying to tell you that it’s not meant to be,”
He grumbled. Fareeha only laughed louder, “You know, Angela’s been telling me all about your ‘war injuries’. Dd he seriously stabbed you in the crotch?”
“Near my crotch, there’s a difference,”
“Not much if he slide a few more inches,” the Egyptian woman chuckled and placed a hand on his shoulder, “Look, why don’t you ask him out like a normal person? You know, ‘wanna have dinner with me’ or ‘how about a date’? That’s a lot more polite, and i’m pretty sure it’ll lower the chances of you getting stab with another projectile,”
This time, McCree buried his face in his hand, mumbling intelligibly. Fareeha leaned in to hear him better, “What?”
“I said,” the older man hissed, “I don’t really know how to ask someone out,”
Fareeha’s laughter actually shocked Hana and Lucio so much they both made the plane lurched slightly.
Their mission brought them a bit far from the desert city of Route: 66, McCree’s old haunt and old wound, “I always hates this place,” he said conversationally, loud enough for everyone to hear, “Wind’s pretty hard right now, ’s ain’t normal. Let’s hope this isn’t the sign of Dust Devils,”
“Dust Devils?”
He nodded, observing the now mostly empty area. Most of the Deadlock Gang members usually weren’t this far away from Route: 66 itself, but he couldn’t just eliminate the potential of drunk stragglers or overachieving scouts. He turned to Hanzo, who asked the question earlier, looking just as apprehensive as he is by the weather, “Dust devils, ’s what we call them tornadoes down here in the deserts. Mean sons of bitches, saw a cow one time being dragged by one, never to be seen again, poor bastard,”
The rest of the team looked uncomfortable with this new information, while Hanzo grimly nodded, “How do we know when one will come? We should take a precaution,”
“Just keep a sharp eye on a red-brown smoke comin’. They’re pretty easy to spot and once they do, we’ll take cover and pray we don’t get sweep off the ground,” he then grinned and tried to loop his arm around the smaller man, “Especially you, since i’m the only thing around here that get to sweep yo—“
“If you value your remaining flesh arm, McCree, i suggest you remove it from my brother’s person,”
Quickly, McCree bounced away - and was only mildly shocked to see that Genji already has his katana trained on his back - and cleared his throat, much to everyone else’s amusement and Genji’s palpable irritation, “Right! We best be going. Daylight’s a wastin’,” He could hear D.va snickering behind him, followed by Lucio’s slightly deeper ones and promptly walked faster. Damn, that was a close one.
The old Overwatch hideout was dusty, like it always is whenever they got here, and the cleaning took a while but eventually they settled themselves in, “Right, so here’s the deal,” he spread the mission objectives on the screen, panning them out so every screen and pages could be seen clearly, “Deadlock recently pulled a big heist; they exploded a bridge above Deadlock Gorge, and that destroyed a military train that was carrying a bomb. Morrison’s details ain’t clear, but that bomb is obviously bad news, especially if the Deadlock Gangs are involved,”
On the side, Hanzo was staring at one of the open screens - the one containing information about Deadlock Gang, McCree noticed, “They are arms dealers, yes?”
“Yeah,” he grimly nodded, “It ain’t in there, but i used to be one of ‘em. They’re bad news,” Behind him, Hana perked up, and quickly jogged towards Hanzo’s side, leaning over his shoulder to read the same page. The kid make it look like being a criminal it’s something great and awe-worthy, but then again, McCree always suspected all of those games she plays made her think this life is cool no matter what, “And i don’t need to tell you what a group of arms dealer is probably planning with a military grade weapon,”
Fareeha nodded behind him, “So our mission is to eliminate the bomb,”
McCree tipped his head, “Right on the head. It doesn’t matter how, but Morrison ain’t wanted that bomb leaving this place or being used in any way. If we have to take down the whole gorge with it, then so be it,”
They agree to act first thing in the morning, gathering intel as to where the bomb was kept and construct a plan from that. The hideout just beyond Route: 66’s area was small, much, much smaller as not to bring attention, so sleep was to be had in the small room they appropriated as a communal bedroom, with folded mattresses and the likes. Fareeha shared hers with Hana, and Lucio had his with McCree and Genji - obviously - demanded that he had one with his brother and that the girls is to be put on the middle to separate McCree away from his beloved anija.
That night, McCree found himself tossing and turning. It was always like this whenever he’s near his old haunt after all, and deciding not to risk waking Lucio, he walked out of the hideout and sat next to the nearest rock. From behind his belt, he took his flask from where it hangs near Peacekeeper’s holster, and took a deep swig of the whiskey he thankfully hadn’t forgotten to refill before he left.
The night’s wind is cold, breezing through like a soft caress across his skin. The whiskey this time is a good batch, he thought, and decided that next time, he’s letting Torbjorn pick his poison for him. He doesn’t know where the Swedish man could find a supplier for his otherwise impressive collection, but McCree always suspected he used most of them for his weapons, and that’s better spent on him than for molten metals.
“Could not sleep?”
In his shock, he almost toppled over from the rock, and turns to find Hanzo standing behind him, crossing his arms and staring up at him. His hair was let loose, the bottom still kinky from the day long knot and in McCree opinion is the best look for Hanzo’s raven locks. Anything looks good on Hanzo.
“Nah, nah, i’m fine,” he slurred, because whatever it is he had indulged himself with is more potent than his usual cheap, watered down swill, and he had a short engineer to thank or punch for that, “’s the place. Makes me itchy,”
“Itchy?”
“Yeah, like an itch ya can’t scratch. And it’s here,” the cowboy tapped the side of his head, indicating the content of his skull, “That’s why i can’t scratch it. Brain’s a hard place to reach when it’s inside you— Why don’t you take a seat here, darlin’, it hurts my neck craning up like that to see yer adorable mug,”
Hanzo made a face across said adorable mug, but he did as McCree ask him - albeit with slight hesitation. He sat cross-legged on the other side of the rock McCree has been leaning against, and while the distance had the younger one frowning, he’s not about to argue when his head felt lighter than cotton candy.
“This gang, the Deadlock Gang we are facing tomorrow, you were one of them, correct?” he heard Hanzo ask, and McCree lowered the flask he was about to raise to his mouth, “Does that mean this is where you spent your days before Overwatch?”
“Right on, darlin’,” he answered, taking another, smaller swig from his flask, “Knew the entire place like the back of my hand. Who’d ya think found this hideout for Overwatch back in the day?”
The flask in his hand was getting lighter with each passing conversation, and soon, if it wasn’t for the lightly splashing noise his flask made whenever he spun it in his hand, he would’ve thought that he was all out of booze, “Ain’t proud of that part of my life history, runnin’ around robbing trains and hijacking supply carts, but we get by and at the time, i was 15, i thought nothing could stop me. Not 2 years later, i was proven wrong,”
“I heard this story from Genji. It was your old Blackwatch commander, Gabriel Reyes, who take you in,”
McCree laughed, because boy that’s an understatement, “Take in’s a kind word to say what he did. Nah, he beat me to a pulp, messed up my mug, and in the end, when i’m still fighting ‘im when i look like a roadkill, he told me i had a fight in me, and he liked that. So he gave me a choice between rottin’ in jail for the rest of my life, or coming in to Blackwatch. Ain’t no brainer there,”
“You sound like you really admire him,”
“He helped me set my life straight. He might be a son of a bitch working for Talon nowadays, but i still owe him that part of my life,”
“That’s quite honorable of you,”
McCree shook his head, and the motion made him sick. Maybe he should stop with the drink, “Nah, honor’s got to do with shit. ’s more like ‘if he hadn’t caught me and give me the beatin’ of my life, i’ll probably either still running around robbin’ people, or i’ll be dead somewhere’. And that’s somethin’ you gotta recognize. I mean, look at Genji,” he swung his arm, motioning towards the hideout, but only looking like he’s trying to flail his arm off, “Almost got killed, lost his entire body to a cyborg body, and he’s still trying ta help you turn your way around and protect ya from me. Ain’t sayin’ i’m happy with that last one, but i see where he come from, and ’s why i backed away when he ask me to,”
Hanzo was silent for a moment, but he sounded petulant as he spoke, “And yet, you did not heed my request,”
“Aww, darlin’ are you mad at me?” he grinned widely and tried to get a glimpse of Hanzo’s profile, but the large rock between them obstructed his view to the beauty in his dreams, “Nah, but i’m just teasin’. I get i came too strong sometimes,”
“Then why don’t you stop?”
Honestly, that question made McCree loss a degree of intoxication. Of course, he’s at least behind a dozen different level of intoxication so it doesn’t mean much, “Why don’t i stop flirtin’, well, i dunno, i kinda hope that if i kept asking, one day you’ll bound to say yes sooner or later,” he choked slightly on the end of his word, and the next second, he began hiccuping, “’s a fail safe method for me before,”
“Method for what?”
“Everythin’, like trainin’, or, or even puttin’ in my keys to my room when i’m drunk. If i keep doin’ it, i’ll bound to get it right one of these days. ’s like my motto in life or somethin’, especially if i’m real detemined to get it,” his brain was nothing more than a large piece of mushy cotton candy right now - hopefully figuratively and not literally, and as soon and he got back to the base, he really, really had to ask Torbjorn just what type of whiskey it is because he’s already smashed from one small flask, “And you won’t believe how much i wanna get yer brother, Genji,”
Wait, is he talking to Genji? He knows he’s gotta be talking to a Shimada - in an organization full of foreigners, he’s pretty much an expert in telling who is from which country or area just from their accents now - but was it Genji or Hanzo? Hopefully it’s not Hanzo.
“He’s sooo pretty, like, nah, not pretty, he’s goddamn drop dead gorgeous, like you wanna stare at ‘im all day and cry cause he’s cleansing your eyes just by showin’ up, like a literal sight for sore eyes and weak, bleedin’ heart like me ‘cuz that’s how i feel,”
Was it Hanzo?
“And, his body like, i’ll open you a dictionary and i’ll turn the page to smokin’ hot, and, no it’s gotta be my dictionary we open, ‘cuz Winston’s probably not accurate, it probably doesn’t have Hanzo next to the word, when he gotta, but maybe they did. Yeah, they should put ‘im there, you know, as the picture, and he’s pretty, pretty as a picture, ya know?”
Hopefully it’s not, he’s not really in control of his words when he’s drunk.
“B-but y’ know wha’s even better? ’s him. Like, him, entirely. He’s all cool costumer, but he ain’t one, ‘cuz he’d be blushing red when i started givin’ him a dirty line, and, and when i’m stupid he’ll laugh and i don’t mind bein’ stupid for ‘im, then he’d be chargin’ to battle, like this son of a gun, with fucking bows and arrows. I can’t get my mind ‘round it, like he’s shot at with guns and shit and he’s tackling ‘em with some ancient weapon and some ancient spirit animal or what yer dragons are, and that’s why he’s so great,”
Then again won’t Genji be a lot more terrifying? Because Hanzo got his arrows but bar any use of his dragon, they’re pretty small, in contrast to Genji’s long and sharp katana. Hanzo’s arrow left small holes in him, Genji could slice his head off.
“I just— just— I want him sooo bad, i wish he’d say yes to juuust one date,”
Oh, well, if he started saying embarrassing stuff, it’s probably best if Genji chopped his head off anyway.
“Even after everything i’ve done?”
McCree scrunched up his nose, “What every— Oooh, you mean the yakuza stuff? Pssh, have i not been spillin’ m’ life ‘istory? I’m the fuckin’ poster child for second chances, i’ll be a damn hypro—hippo—hyprocrates? Hyprocrites? Hypocrite! Hypocrite, ta only look at a guy and see what he used to do and not what he’s tryin’ so hard to do now,” There’s only a bit left in his flask. Might as well down all of them, “I like that ‘bout ‘im. I know he’s tryin’ hard t’ do right by himself and Genji— Wait, aren’t you Genji? Who are you? Who am i talkin’—Uh,”
Maybe he shouldn’t have downed that last few drops after all.
When McCree woke up the next day, it was to a searing headache, and the colour of blue, pink, yellow and green muddled into one with obnoxious giggling somewhere in the background.
The muddled colours retreated for a little, and he was trying to discern whether or not it is a dream when the colours are back, this time with vengeful noise of hell.
“Good morning, McCree!”
“Aaaah!”
Everything hurts, like his head is being repeatedly slammed by Reinhardt’s hammer with Winston and Bastion sitting on the top of it. The obnoxious giggling were back, and there is a softer, deep voice somewhere close that seems to be calling those colours away. The colours retreated, after one of them - the blue and pink one, he noted from his slanted eyes - mussed up his head and left him to his own devices.
“Sorry, Hanzo!” the two screaming voice from earlier chimed together and at least it’s lighter to his head now, like if Winston had decided the ride for Reinhardt’s hammer is over but Bastion is still having fun and is now being slammed down to his head again.
He must’ve dozed off - or passed out from the pain - because the next time he woke up, his head is a little bit clearer, he could see the sun high in the sky from the windows and something blue was on the periphery of his sight. He followed the blue, and was met with Hanzo sitting next to his bed. The japanese man doesn’t seem to notice he is awake yet, because he is looking up to something outside of McCree’s -very limited - line of sight, seemingly talking while rubbing his hips and back like it’s hurting.
The soft murmurs doesn’t sound like english, so either Hanzo’s talking to himself, or Genji’s somewhere nearby.
“You are awake,”
“Imma holla at ya once i’m sure i am,” he groaned, massaging his temple, “Did anyone got the number of the freight train that hit me? Imma sue to high heavens,”
“You were not hit by anything. You did ‘hit’ the alcohol a little too much i think,”
Despite himself McCree grinned and lazily pointed at the direction where he’s sure Hanzo is sitting at, “Haa, good one. Someone’s learnin’ the ol’ American puns. Bit more a trainin’ and we’ll make a joker out of you yet. Ow,”
“Stop trying to move. Or speak,”
“Not gonna argue,” his stomach felt burning and his head is splitting. What the hell is happening, “I’m gonna be sick,”
A blur of green, some foreign cursing and someone that suspiciously like Hana laughing later, McCree found himself slumped over the makeshift dining table, nursing a cup of coffee and steadily poking at the plate in front of him. Canned beans, eggs and oily sausages. He popped one chopped meat to his mouth, chewing slowly.
“Pharah and Lucio is out scouting the location for the bomb,” Hanzo informed him, “They should be back soon,”
“’s pretty early,”
“It’s almost 11,”
“Well, shit,” the cowboy grumbled, aggressively chomping down another piece of sausage.
Genji was steadfastly by Hanzo’s side, although he doesn’t seem to think that a hungover McCree is much of a threat since he was more intent in watching Hana play one of her portable games than paying attention to their interaction. Well, McCree think he’s not going to be useful until he finished his coffee either. He took a sip, and noticed that Hanzo was back to rubbing his back and hip, “What happen to you?”
Instead of Hanzo, Genji was the one who replied, snickering, “兄者は古い。” the japanese language means it’s meant for his brother, but he was looking at McCree instead, like it’s a joke he’s supposed to get.
Hanzo scowled, seemingly irritated by whatever it is Genji just said, “黙れ。”
“はいはい, 兄者”
Was it a trick of light, or did Hanzo really just blush? “I…,” he cleared his throat, “Unfortunately, i seem to have injured myself. I strained myself last night,”
“Doing what?”
“Um. I was doing a little heavy lifting and i was underestimating the weight of the— thing that i was carrying. It happens, but i should be fine,”
He winced in sympathy, but with another sip of coffee, he seems to gain his bearing a little better now, so McCree tested this theory by smirking lopsidedly, “Well, then i best be careful not to hurt you next time we both be doin’ our own version of heavy liftin, huh?”
As expected, Hanzo rolled his eyes and walked away, and Genji completely loss all interest in Hana’s game in favor of taking his shuriken out and planting it right next to McCree’s hand on the table, but hey, at least the day’s back to normal now.
They did find the bomb, and their plan, between ambushing the Deadlock Gang and destroying the bomb was on the way to succession as well, when suddenly their comms flickered to life and Hana’s frantic voice came in, “McCree, what did you say about sandstorms? That it’s big and dusty and we’ll probably see them from far?”
Quickly fanning his hammer and shoot to dispose the last of the gang members in front of him, McCree turned his comm on, “Yeah, what about it?”
“Don’t mean to cause panic, but, does it look like that?”
He found Hana’s Meka easily, bring bright pink and all, but he could also easily see the thing she was talking about.
Large, sentient in the horizon, and it’s definitely coming towards them.
At the same time as he came with the conclusion, the remaining members of the Deadlock Gangs, seems to caught on what makes them stop and one of them, just right above the building McCree stood next to shouted with all of his might, “Dust Devils!”
Ah, shit.
“Everyone, get back! We need to get out of here!”
“But the bomb—“
“If that thing is heading here, then it’ll destroy this entire area, including the fucking bomb, Pharah, now move!”
The Deadlock Gangs seems to have the same idea because most of them could be seen scrambling to leave the gorge, not even trying to fight back and McCree is not going to fight unarmed men who refused to defend themselves. He let them leave, waiting and counting his own team members.
He watched as Hana’s Meka scooped up Lucio and jumped away, while Pharah flew up high, probably providing them surveillance. Genji and Hanzo had just come into view, both running from roof to roof in an incredible display of finesse. McCree was counting, noting, and he completely missed the one Deadlock Gang member who didn’t seem to share his friend’s will to survive a sandstorm of all things.
When he did notice the man however, there was a bullet hole in his back and through his chest.
“I did it!” he heard from the haze of pain and screams in his comm, “I killed the traitor, Jesse McCree!”
The blood that started to climb to his tastebuds taste foul, even more than the vomit from this morning. Shit, must’ve hit something critical there if he started coughing up blood this early. He heard shouts from in front of him, and there’s an incredible rush of energy from the same direction that knocked him backwards, but all he could see as he landed on his back on the dusty ground was a fading blue mist. There’s red chunks everywhere, almost raining down, but he could see a whole hand flying and landing messily on the ground near him and all he could think was ‘Damn, that’s what the dragon could really do?’
By then he heard nothing else by muted shouts, and the last thing he remembered was a pair of arms carrying him and he started flying up high.
Damn, his time is up and he hadn’t even succeeded asking Hanzo out yet.
The next time he woke up with searing pain, this time the pain was on his abdomen, and what’s swimming in his sight was blue, and a little bit of yellow and white.
“Oh, you’re up,”
German accent. Oh, Angela.
“Doc,” he greeted, and boy, his throat hurts something fierce, “Think i can get some water?”
“Oh, right,” Angela hummed, but she seemed rather distracted by something, and if his sight isn’t swimming like he’s looking at everything with beer goggles, maybe McCree could tell what is it that she is looking at, “I’ll be right back. Um, wasser, wasser,”
The click clacking of her heels told him she is moving away in a slow pace, unlike her usual economic and efficient self, “What’s up with her?” he whispered to himself, a rhetoric he’s not expecting a reply to.
He got one nonetheless, “She’s a bad actor,”
“Waaah!” he would’ve jumped off the bed if the IV and whathaveyas isn’t keeping him down, but all thoughts are forgotten when he finally caught who it is that spoke to him, “Hanzo! Darlin’ how long you’ve been here?”
He couldn’t really tell, but it seems like Hanzo is shrugging.
McCree chuckled at his behaviour, but winced when the gesture made his pain worse, “Shit. Lemme guess, it ain’t a freight train that hit me?”
“Just a bullet train,”
“You know, you’re lucky i’ve been to your country before, or else, i wouldn’t have caught that reference. Nah, a good pun is only good when both party understood the— Ah, i’m gonna have to postpone the lecture, talkin’ kills me,”
There is a pressure on his - apparently naked - torso, a hand, he realized belatedly, “You were shot near the diaphragm, so understandably, it would sting when you take breath, never mind talk. Keep it to a minimum,”
“You keep touchin’ me like that, darlin’ and i’ll even yodel if you want me to,”
When Hanzo groaned, McCree grinned, “Could you please stop?”
“Yodellin’ aint nothing dirty. Unless you want me to make it dirt—“
His sight might be swimming - he suspected he’s been given some mighty fine painkiller - but he could recognize the hand being shoved to his face, and by the smell of it - tea, jasmine, something a little bit like lubricating oil - he could also tell who the owner of said hand is, “Can you— why do you—“ Hanzo groaned, and the hand on his face retreated a little, curling to a ball. If McCree is any more alert, he would fear it may punch him, “Why do you always do that?”
This meds is making him hazy because he hadn’t the slightest idea to what Hanzo is talking about, “Huh?”
“That! Talking— talking like that! Dirty and full of your confusing suggestive terms,”
Ah, he meant flirting, “Cuz i like ya, i thought you know,”
“I know you seem to like me enough to repeatedly proposition to me—“
“Oooh, baby,”
“Stop that, or i’m bringing Genji here,”
That shuts McCree up.
“As i was saying. Even with my family background, i always looked down upon, in Genji’s term, casual sex. This is why i have disapproved of his youthful indiscretions, amongst other things. This is why i do not appreciate your behaviour, and even more when you refuse to stop.” he stopped, and even blurred, McCree could tell he was fidgeting a little, “I suppose i was a little disappointed as well. I always thought you are charming and good looking. Not to mention knowledgeable, and you have different facets that i found admirable, so it is rather disappointing to know you do not wish for anything more than a physical relation no matter how many times i tried to hint that that is not what i wanted,”
Hanzo sighed again, and the hand was now gone from his face and just gone from view. McCree was a little disappointed; he wanted that hand somewhere near him again, “There are times that we could have a civil conversation, but you always ruined those moments with another inappropriate comment. If you have instead approached me with the intent of proposing a more meaningful type of relationship, i would not have minded, because, as if have explained, i always thought of you as an interesting character,”
He wanted to listen, he really do, but the cocktail of medicine that’s probably in his system is really, really not helping, and Hanzo’s voice is too soothing even without trying. So instead, McCree gave the only reply he could, “Huh?”
Now, he could hear Hanzo sighing again - this time a lot more weary, and he can’t help feeling a bit guilty - but he can also hear a feminine groan from somewhere in the room. Who the hell—, “Ange? Hey, are you back with my water—“
He never managed to finish that sentence because he was pulled up almost forcefully by his shirt collar and something warm and wet was pressed against his chapped lips. He didn’t try to struggle - mainly because his limbs are noodles now - and damn if he didn’t feel so good and it’s got shit to do with the meds. It was warm and nice and something smells really, really good, and he’s gotta hold on to this, like right now, before he lost it—
Too late, it’s gone. McCree whined, because there’s little else he could do right now.
“W-what i meant to say was,” Hanzo’s voice was back, somewhere even closer, “If, if you promise the one date you wanted me to go to will be followed by another and not just end after a sexual intercourse, t-then i would not mind agreeing to it,”
McCree is high on meds - he said that plenty, didn’t he? - and he might not be aware of his surrounding, but his gut feelings is kicking at him to immediately react of he’ll regret this for the rest of his life.
So answer he did, “Ok,”
(Not a few moments after he said that he’s starting to doze off, but he could hear some tap-tap-taping of shoes far from where he is followed by the slamming of the door, and someone suspiciously sounding like Angela screaming, “He agrees! They are finally going on a date!” before someone else who sounded like Fareeha shouting, “You mean it’s over?! He did it?! He did it!”
There’s angry barking voice somewhere to his side, following this confusing exchanged as well, but with the meds, and the hand now holding his, McCree found himself dozing with a big smile on his face.)
Epilogue
The date’s a big success - he’s not even disappointed Hanzo didn’t put out at the end of the night, he’s that damn elated - and the next date is also a big success, followed by the next, the next, the— well, this one had a bit of a hitch considering Talon suddenly attacks out of nowhere, the next is also a success, also the next, the next is a bit mild because it was raining hard and they spent the day playing old games in Hana’s console, but it’s okay because they get to cuddle and damn, this is all so domestic, McCree could cry.
All in all, this entire relationship is a success, and then, and then! A few more dates later, he was about to bid his lover - lover! - good night, when Hanzo stopped him with a coy smile and pulled him into his bedroom and needless to say, Jesse McCree could die now and be the happiest man on earth.
There’s just one problem.
And he remembered about this problem in the middle of a post-coital doze, when Hanzo’s door was suddenly swing open without permission, and enter the devil.
Genji Shimada had been away on another mission since that Route: 66 mission and during McCree’s recovery and needless to say, something tells him that nobody told the younger Shimada what’s going on.
The colour of that green light on his mask has never been more intimidating.
“So, McCree,” he spoke, his body hissing with every step, and steam floats out of the cylindrical machination decorating his body, “I heard some interesting news during my absence from a flock of chatty bird,”
When he said he could die, this is definitely not what he meant.