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It’s probably about five in the morning and Hanzo has pulled himself out of their shared bed, patting Jesse’s prone form with a hand as he pads sleepily to a mirror, pulling the mess of black hair out of his eyes and up into a neat ribbon that will do at least until they’ve finished breakfast.
Jesse does no such thing to make himself a little more presentable, mumbling groggily to himself as he pushes the sheets away. Hanzo can’t help the fond smile that pulls at his lips as Jesse scratches his beard and rubs a hand over bleary eyes.
“Good morning.” He says and is responded to only by a tired grunt from a cowboy that is by no means a morning person.
They walk into the kitchen together, Jesse wearing naught but a pair of loose boxers, ‘Nasty’ written on the ass. A gift from Genji, Hanzo hates them but loves the man in them. Jesse knows this and so wears them at every opportunity, just to goad Hanzo into rolling his eyes, tutting sharply so Jesse can kiss the pout away from his lips, laugh heartily into Hanzo’s chest.
They go about their separate but similar routine, Hanzo allowing a tea bag to steep in hot water whereas Jesse pours himself a mug of hot, black coffee straight from the pot that the entirety of Overwatch insists is consistently full and strong.
They sit next to each other, Jesse unashamedly leaning into Hanzo’s shoulder as he blows at the coffee, willing it to cool. Hanzo lets him, relishing the familiar warmth in the otherwise cold and lonely canteen.
They sit in companionable silence as Hanzo lets himself watch Jesse grimace around a sip of hot java, hair an unruly bedheaded mess strands shoved hastily behind his ears, the back of it sticking up chaotically. He continues to grit his teeth and drink the coffee Hanzo knows very well the cowboy doesn’t actually like and Hanzo can’t stifle the warmth in his chest as he opens his mouth to say,
“You should take sugar with that.” but what comes out is, “You should marry me.”
And Jesse just stops, pulling away from Hanzo and staring at the man, eyes comedically wide as he opens his mouth to reply and coffee drops from his lips, on to his chest. He ignores it but Hanzo doesn’t.
He should take it back but he can’t, he doesn’t want to. He should definitely take sugar with his coffee though, coffee now splattered over his chest and Hanzo finds the entire situation suddenly undeniably hilarious.
Jesse’s face softens from silent shock into fond awe as Hanzo covers his mouth, hiding the chuckles threatening to spill. McCree takes his wrist, cold metal closing around warm skin, softly, reverently as Hanzo continues to laugh quietly. Jesse’s eyes are surprisingly bright and Hanzo can’t help but feel like the man’s looking at him as a dying man would gaze upon redemption and his cheeks warm all the more.
“Why, darlin’, maybe I should.”
And the chuckles stop, replaced with lips against his, they kiss in front of their respective cups, steam rising steadily from over the rims and Hanzo can’t help but think that he’s never been happier.