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McCree didn’t even know where to even begin with the first step. He’d always been more of a dog person - correction, a big dog person. Hell, a horse-person, even. The bigger the animal, the better honestly. They were sturdier that way, and he didn’t have to have spikes of anxiety about accidentally hurting them, like if he were to handle, say, a bird, with their much too delicate, hollow bones. Or a cat.
But, he was skipping ahead of the issue a bit. He hadn’t even gotten to the handling part yet - no, he was still on the beckoning phase. Dogs would come happily to him when called, complete with tails wagging and tongues lolling. A sharp whistle and a well-loved horse would come galloping. But a cat? Call a cat and good luck with that.
And a cat was what Hanzo Shimada was.
Quiet like one, contrary like one, and every bit as hissy. But perhaps that was the cat-like archer’s charm. The sleek, silky black hair, coupled with piercing, dark eyes, and a lithe body certainly helped… Though, McCree figured he really should stop that train of thought. He’d already backpedaled in his musings too many times to count for one day. Rather, he needed to focus on a plan of attack- er- taming? Befriending? Befriending sounded like the better word.
Unfortunately, McCree didn’t know the first thing about befriending cats. Much as he tried to get closer to Hanzo, the archer remained as elusive as ever. Like a cat, Hanzo didn’t come running when called. It wasn’t like McCree had only tried coaxing him closer. If pulling wasn’t working, perhaps he needed to change tactics and start pushing. But as proud of his abilities to flank the enemy in the field as he was, his skills failed him on the base. The damned archer somehow managed to be twice as evasive. McCree supposed he just had to count his lucky stars that the archer didn’t just up and climb a wall to get away from the cowboy on sight.
“Perhaps you should consider a laser pointer. Or ask Torbjorn to add that option onto these,” Genji snickered, tapping the nipple headlights built into the cowboy’s chestplate.
Amusing as the thought was, McCree could only chuckle and smack Genji’s shoulder at that.
“You should try researching how to up your game. How about you ask Athena about ‘yaoi’? There’s plenty of love advice under that topic,” Hana advised with a loud pop of her gum.
The pop of the gum had distracted McCree from noticing the impish glint in Hana’s eye and he later couldn’t figure out if he regretted looking yaoi up with Athena or not.
“You know how to use a lasso?” Lucio offered, waggling his brows and miming the motion of a rope twirling in the air.
McCree rolled his eyes. “I think that’ll be my last resort. Thanks anyway, partner,” he drawled dryly. He imagined he would get burned quite badly if he were to ever to try the stunt out on the elder Shimada. Though...maybe Genji would let him practice getting the hang of it on him first.
“Perhaps I can help you with a ‘kabedon’? I think is the term?” Mei offered sweetly, a tad too sweetly considering she could literally put up an ice wall and trap McCree and Hanzo in a corner behind it.
“Not you too,” McCree groaned, pulling his hat down to conceal his face. He had a feeling Hana had sent a memo around to the entire team about his venture on ‘yaoi.’
“Or perhaps you could use a nano-boost so you can keep up,” Ana offered primly before tipping her cup of tea daintily at McCree and taking a sip.
“Nana!” McCree whined, feeling very attacked by the team at that point.
It was later that he realized his sinking feeling was a reality when Morrison sat him down one day and subtly (but failing at it) tried to offer the cowboy some dating advice. Red-faced and dying internally, McCree almost wished Hanzo’s dragons would burst from the wall and swallow him up; mercifully putting him out of his misery. Jumping to his feet, spurs jingling, McCree conjured up an excuse to escape; heading off the conversation before it could get even worse. Heaven forbid, he did NOT want to start hearing about the ballad of Jack and Gabe, which was probably more porn-filled than anything HBO had to offer. “Uh, thanks da-er. Morrison,” he offered weakly before taking off as quickly as his long legs could carry him without it being considered ”running” away.
McCree needed fresh air. He made his way outside, avoiding the others as best as he could. He didn’t think he could handle anymore advice- whether it was asking for it or being offered it. Nope. Right now, a nice nap outside with the sea breeze to cool his flaming face called.
He made his way to the far side of base where traffic was practically non-existent and settled in the middle of a cat-walk adjacent to the sea. It had a stunning view of the glittering waters with nothing but the cliffside to break the horizon. He heaved a sigh of relief and swung his legs over the edge as he laid down against the warm concrete. It felt good against his back, and with the setting sun gently beating down on him and the breeze gentle and cool against his skin; he let the peaceful air of it all lull him towards sleep.
It was just as he was on the cusp of sleep that he heard the soft pitter patter of feet coming towards him. Was it Genji? Sometimes the ninja came out here for a bit of wall-climbing exercises and meditation. Or maybe, he’d come to make fun of the cowboy for having ‘the talk’ with Morrison at his age. Whatever the reason, the near silent sound of feet began to falter the closer they got to him. It wasn’t like Genji to be hesitant...unless the little shit was intending to get the jump on him. He rolled his eyes; glad for his hat to hide them, and kept his breathing soft and even.
He waited.
It was a long wait- the footsteps faltering and cautious as they inched closer to the ‘slumbering’ cowboy. He waited until the quiet footsteps stopped completely, until he felt the ghostly sensation of another body hovering just by him, til his hat was just barely starting to be lifted off his face before he sat up abruptly, and, without warning, snatched the other into his lap with a loud “BOO!”
Before his hat even dropped away from his face, he realized it wasn’t Genji in his arms. For one, the body held tightly in his lap, though stiff and unyielding, was certainly fleshier and heavier than the cyborg. For two, the surprised bark was too deep to be Genji’s voice. And for three, there was a sweet, floral scent wafting from...his hat slid down from his face, gripped tightly in the hands of...none other than Hanzo Shimada.
Well, shit. He’d somehow gone and caught himself a cat.