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Days like this were what Jesse liked most. He had come back from a mission late, Hanzo already asleep in their bed. He had dropped all his gear and clothes right where he stood and gotten in bed, chuckling softly as he felt Hanzo shift closer. The archer’s dark eyes had opened, groggy with sleep, but soft, his smile warm and affectionate. Hanzo had spoken in Japanese, but between both Shimada brothers, Jesse had learned enough to keep up.
“Go back to sleep, sugar,” Jesse whispered, pressing a kiss to the dark head of hair. “We’ll talk about it in the mornin’.”
Hanzo had nodded slightly, but shifted, moving to press his body up against Jesse’s, his arms coming around his torso, head on his chest. Jesse held Hanzo to him, running a hand down his back and continuing, even as he felt steady exhales from Hanzo’s lips against his chest. He stayed there for a while, basking in the warmth of Hanzo’s body and the love that they had worked so hard to blossom, before he fell asleep.
When Hanzo woke, he was exactly where he wanted to be. The mornings where they were allowed to sleep in, no reports, no missions, no training, just them. Those were the best. The archer shifted his head only, keeping his arms around the cowboy, his cowboy, watching him sleep. Jesse’s soft snores and the little bit of drool at the corner of his mouth. These were the things that Hanzo loved about him, the things that no one else got to see. Jesse was a character in public, the perfect contrast to Hanzo’s own quieter, more introverted self, but these moments, the moments when Jesse was unable to put on the hat and be the enthusiastic cowboy, those were Hanzo’s favorites. He placed a kiss on Jesse’s chest and smiled, putting his head back down and closing his eyes. A few more minutes of sleep with the love of his life wouldn’t hurt anything.