Chapter Text
It began with a suggestion from Genji, to find a way to vent without the pressures of external judgement. Hanzo decided to keep a journal. He would date each entry and write how his day had been, who he’d seen or spoken with, and what doubts still plagued him. He found that it helped him confront the feelings he’d been struggling with. Everything he’d written was in his native tongue, it was more familiar, and knowing that he and Genji were the only native speakers, it helped to make him feel more secure while writing.
With time, he had freed himself from many of his doubts. When he’d first arrived, he could hardly look at his brother, and now they were able to talk at length. He no longer saw machine or the embodiment of his greatest mistake when he looked at Genji. Now, Hanzo saw his brother, the man he thought he’d lost forever due to his own misguided judgement; he saw a second chance.
The agents of Overwatch had been surprisingly welcoming to him when he had first arrived, though he had convinced himself that he did not deserve their kindness. Hanzo had originally intended to keep them at arm’s length, he didn’t need to be close to his teammates to do his job. Despite his best efforts, they still managed to worm their way into his life, something that he now greatly appreciated.
Hana would have him join her streams from time to time, playing classics like Mario cart 8 or super smash bros brawl. Satya would join him for tea, usually they would talk about battle strategies or simply vent to each other about how incompetent their teammates could be at times. He would even have weekly sessions with Zenyatta, which he now made an effort to show up to.
Now here he was, sitting in one of the communal break rooms, writing in his journal about the one thing he couldn’t seem to get off his mind.
Jesse McCree was a selfless man, always going out of his way to make sure others feel welcome. Hanzo had lost count of how many times the man had asked him to join everyone for meals, and eventually he managed to convince Hanzo to go, if only to stop his insistent badgering, or so he had told himself.
McCree was an anomaly to Hanzo. The man was kindhearted but could kill without hesitation, easygoing but he always showed up on time when asked. He was messy with his own belongings but he treated other’s possessions with care and he would even help clean around base. In battle, he was reckless and calculating at the same time, and Hanzo noted that the cowboy’s recklessness usually only showed itself when McCree had to act quickly to protect a teammate. McCree made shooting seem effortless, and Hanzo sometimes wondered if the man’s aim could surpass his own. He was loud, boisterous, and talkative, and if one didn’t feel like talking, he had no problem carrying the conversation by himself; it was nice to listen to. McCree could also be near silent when he seemed to be contemplating something. McCree was so many things all at once, and the little habits that the man had that used to drive Hanzo mad, like the way he seemed to ignore personal space, how he would always talk with his hands when he was telling a story, the way he was always smelling of smoke, but now Hanzo couldn’t imagine his life without them.
Hanzo cherished the friendship he and McCree shared, though he soon found himself longing for more. He wasn’t sure what it was that he wanted. He would write down his conversations with McCree, how the man made him feel, and all at once the realization seemed to hit him. The butterflies that he felt whenever he heard McCree’s laugh or the way he smiled at him, the look of awe when he saw the dragons for the first time in battle, and the look of surprise and joy when he saw them outside of battle in their smaller forms. The sheer fact that Hanzo would indulge McCree’s ‘challenges’ at the shooting range. He loved Jesse McCree, and he didn’t know what to do.
Now Hanzo had a choice to make, ignore these feelings and hope that they would just go away, or act on them. While he had much more experience with the former, he had a feeling that he would choose the latter, if he ever got around to making the choice. A small part of him wanted to swallow his pride and ask Genji for advice, but that would mean admitting his crush on McCree to his brother. Genji might have matured greatly since their youth, but he was still the mischievous younger brother that Hanzo grew up with, and he knew that the teasing he would receive would be endless.
The sound of footsteps pulled him out of his thoughts; he looked up from his journal to find the source of the sound, the cowboy himself.
“Howdy there, Han.” McCree greeted, tipping his hat to the archer.
Hanzo instinctually shut his journal perhaps a bit too quickly seeing as it seemed to have piqued McCree’s interest. “Do you need something.” Hanzo replied, sounding a bit harsher than he’d intended.
“Nothin’ in particular.” McCree replied. “I was gonna get started on dinner, wanna help?”
Hanzo silently thanked whatever gods were listening since McCree had chosen not to ask about his journal. “I suppose I have nothing better to do.” Hanzo stated.
“Really?” McCree exclaimed, visibly cheering up. “Great, I was thinking about making chili con carne. Ever make it before?” He questioned, beginning to walk over to the kitchens and motioning for Hanzo to follow him.
Hanzo placed his journal in his jacket pocket and walked alongside McCree. “I don’t believe I have ever had the dish, nor have ever attempted to make it.” He remarked.
“Well then, yer in fer a treat.” McCree stated. “Chili’s one of my best dishes; I think you’re going to like it.”
“Is that so?” Hanzo asked, looking over at the cowboy.
“Guarantee it.” McCree retorted, clearly confident in his abilities to cook. “One question though, can you handle spice? ‘Cause I make two usually, one mild and one extra spicy.”
“Yes, I can handle spice.” Hanzo informed. “Why do you make two?”
“Well, everyone’s gotta eat, ‘nd not everyone can handle my hellfire chili, so I make a milder one too.” McCree explained as he began pulling out all of the ingredients they would need.
“That is.. very considerate of you.” Hanzo remarked.
McCree simply shrugged, but Hanzo could see the small smile on his lips. “Ain’t that hard ta make two of basically the same thing.” He commented.
Hanzo walked over to stand by McCree, looking at the ingredients. He glanced at the oven clock. “Is it not too early to begin cooking?” He questioned, they had a few hours before dinner was scheduled.
“Well, good chili can take up ta four hours ta cook once ya get everything all said and done.” McCree replied.
Hanzo could hardly understand why anyone would spend so much time on one dish. “Is it really worth the effort?” He asked.
“Not a doubt in my mind.” Jesse stated, matter of factly, pulling out a cutting board.
“Alright.” Hanzo replied. “So what do you need help with exactly?”
That got the cowboy to grin. “Can ya start cutting the meat into little chunks, like an inch big.” He requested. McCree then turned his attention to washing his other ingredients. From what Hanzo could see, it looked like he had red tomatoes and jalapeños.
Hanzo chastised himself for being so easily distracted and turned his attention to the steaks in from of him. He began slicing the meat into small pieces and set them aside for McCree to use later. By the time he had finished McCree had set out a wide variety of spices on the counter, and appeared to be cutting the onion if the tears streaming down his cheeks were anything to go by. It was strange seeing the man appear to cry while humming such a pleasant tune.
“I finished cutting the meat.” Hanzo informed. “What else do you need me to do.”
“You’re like a duck on a junebug.” McCree commented. “Could you get a pan out and start cookin' that while I get the rest cookin’?”
Hanzo wasn’t sure whether McCree’s first statement was a complement or an insult, but he was hoping it was the former seeing as McCree still wanted his help. “Does it matter which pan I use?” Hanzo asked.
“Use the iron skillet.” McCree suggested. “Should work fine fer ya.” Hanzo had no idea what he intended on using what appeared to be a blender for as he gathered his assortments of ingredients together, and decided to focus on cooking the beef thoroughly and making sure nothing burned.
It wasn’t long before the meat was sufficiently browned and McCree had finished doing.. something. McCree put two big pots down and poured in the chili, adding the meat in once everything started to heat up. After a few minutes he stuck the lids on them and turned down the heat. “Now we just let that sit fer an hour or two and he have ourselves some mighty fine chili.” He stated.
“So.. you simply leave it there to cook?” Hanzo questioned.
“Well, sort of, I mean I’m gonna stay here and watch it, because there’s no way in hell the team would ever let me live it down if I was the one who burnt down the kitchen, but ‘sides the occasional stirring this baby’s done.” McCree informed.
“Does that mean you no longer require my assistance.” Hanzo questioned, a small part of him hoping there was something he could do, since he enjoyed being around Jesse, but realistically he knew that he was probably only a nuisance to McCree at this point.
“Well the cookin’s done, but I could always use some company.” McCree replied, and Hanzo was fairly certain it was just his imagination, but it almost sounded hopeful.
“As I stated previously, I have nothing better to do.” Hanzo commented. “And someone should be here to help in case you do manage to burn the kitchen down.” He added.
McCree chuckled. “Been cookin’ ten years and still no one trusts me.” He remarked. “You finish yer trainin’ already?”
“Yes, I finished this morning.” Hanzo stated, unsure of where this conversation was leading.
“Good, good.” McCree said, looking over at Hanzo. “Finished mine ‘bout an hour ago. Maybe if our schedules match up we could shoot together?” He suggested.
“I suppose that would be an efficient use of time. What time did you have in mind?” Hanzo questioned.
“Friday work for you?” McCree asked.
“I don’t believe I have anything important scheduled that day.” Hanzo replied. “Do you have a particular time in mind?”
“Nah, figure we just meet up and shoot when we have time.” McCree supplied.
“I suppose that will work.” Hanzo affirmed. It was a very loose arrangement, but one that he was looking forward to.
McCree was humming again. It appeared to be the same song from earlier. Hanzo watched as McCree stirred the chili, devoting his attention to the dish so it wouldn’t burn. Hanzo couldn’t believe he was beginning to feel jealous of a pot of chili for being able to hold McCree’s focus for so long. Though it is not as if Hanzo had ever done anything to show McCree that he wanted the man’s full attention, so he shouldn’t complain. He couldn’t possibly expect the cowboy to read minds. He was pulled out of his thoughts by an almost tingling sensation in his arm, a familiar feeling that could only mean one thing.
Before he had the chance to stop them, Udon and Soba summoned themselves and quickly made their way towards McCree. Both seemed to pay no heed to Hanzo’s wishes for them to return as they crawled up the startled cowboys arms and draped themselves around his neck, chirping happily to get his attention.
“Howdy there little partners.” McCree greeted, putting the lids back on the pots and turning his attention to the dragons that were making themselves comfortable on his shoulders. McCree easily gave them the affection they were seeking as he cooed at them and gave them plenty of scratches. Hanzo caught himself staring and quickly averted his gaze. Perhaps he should set the table? Hanzo decided that that was the best course of action at the moment and got the utensils out and enough bowls for the agents currently stationed here. As he turned to walk down the dining hall when he noticed Hana in the doorway. She didn’t say anything, but he felt unnerved by the look on her face, as if she’d just discovered some secret that Hanzo was unaware of. He ignored that feeling and continued making his way to the dining hall.
When Hanzo returned to the kitchen, he found Soba and Udon swimming in the chili. The most likely cause was Jesse needed to stir the pots and the dragons were irritated with the lack of attention they were getting, and chose to move to the new source of the cowboy’s focus. McCree appeared to be attempting to get them out with the spoon, but they were too agile for McCree to capture.
Hanzo let out a sigh and walked over to the mess. “I leave for five minutes and this is what you choose to do?” Hanzo scolded, switching back into his native tongue. “Get out of there, please.” He requested. A moment later they begrudgingly flew out of the pots and into the sink, waiting patiently for Hanzo to turn the water on so they could wash up and play a little longer.
“What’d ya say ta them to make ‘em leave?” McCree questioned, lowering the heat on the stovetops. Hanzo had momentarily forgotten how close he was to McCree and took the opportunity to walk over the sink and begin filling it up, earning some happy chirps as the dragons played with the faucet water.
“I asked them nicely to get out of your pots.” Hanzo stated.
“Seriously? Or ‘re ya just pulling my leg?” McCree questioned, once again moving into Hanzo’s space as he peered into the sink to watch Soba and Udon happily swim around.
“Why would I lie about such a trivial thing?” Hanzo asked in return.
“I dunno. Askin’ nicely didn’t work for me.” McCree replied.
“That is most likely because they rarely listen to you.” Hanzo remarked.
McCree chuckled, it was a deep, almost rumbly sound that sent a shiver down Hanzo’s spine. “Suppose that’s true.” He commented. “And I don’t mean ta offend ya with this next question, but is it sanitary ta let them swim in the chili we’re about ta feed the team.”
“They are spirits and cannot transmit bacteria or disease, so the chili should be fine.” Hanzo replied.
“Good, ‘cause I don’t think we have enough ingredients or time ta make another batch.” McCree stated.
The moment was broken when two sprays of water shot out of the sink, one aimed at Hanzo and the other at Jesse. It seemed that Soba and Udon did not enjoy being so blatantly ignored. Hanzo glared at the two, but he could never stay mad at them for long, especially since he had been the one offending them. “All of watchpoint adores you and you chose to interrupt my and McCree’s conversation because you were bored?” Hanzo questioned, slipping back into Japanese.
“All of watchpoint isn’t here right now.” Soba retorted.
“And we desire both of your attention, now would be preferable.” Udon stated.
Hanzo smiled softly and rolled his eyes. He picked up a small towel beside the sink and held it open for the two to climb into so he could dry them off. “Then you will have it now.” Hanzo replied.
“They say something to ya?” McCree asked, grabbing the other spare dish towel to dry his arm off.
“Yes, that they do not enjoy being ignored and would much prefer being the center of attention.” Hanzo informed, which seemed to get a laugh out of McCree.
“Is that right?” McCree commented, scratching behind Soba’s horns and under Udon’s chin, earning the cowboy some happy chirps.
Hanzo wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but he could hear the timer on McCree’s phone going off.
“Time fer dinner.” McCree stated, turning the alarm off. “Everybody should be headin’ ta the dinning hall by now.”
At the mention of more people, Soba and Udon made their leave to go seek attention for the rest of their teammates. “I already set the table.” Hanzo remarked, noticing that McCree was looking in the drawer for the utensils.
“Would explain why this’s nearly empty.” McCree said, closing the drawer. “Guess ya beat me to it.”
“Do you need help bringing the pots to the table?” Hanzo questioned.
“Yeah, that’d be real helpful of ya, Han.” McCree replied, handing Hanzo two oven mitts. “This is the spicy one.” He stated, pointing to the pot on the left burner. “And this one here is the mild.” He added, pointing to the pot on the right burner. “If you could bring one of them ta the table I’d be mighty grateful.”
“It is a simple task.” Hanzo commented, picking up the mild chili, and trying his best to ignore the fluttering feeling in his stomach.
“Much obliged.” McCree said, tipping his hat to Hanzo before grabbing the other pair of oven mitts and carrying the spicier chili to the table.
The agents that were currently stationed at Gibraltar besides Hanzo himself included Winston, McCree, Genji, Hana, Satya, Mei, Lena, Lucio, Zenyatta, and Reinhardt. Hanzo noted that Reinhardt, Lena and Winston chose the mild chili, while Genji, Hana, Satya, Mei, Lucio, and McCree all went for the spicier version.
Hanzo also noted that Soba and Udon seem to have joined Ramen on Zenyatta’s shoulders, playing with his orbs as the monk cooed at them; though it wasn’t too surprising to see that they gravitated towards the one person who would not be eating and could devote their full attention to them. Genji had told Hanzo that while his lower jaw was now metal, Dr. Ziegler managed to save his tongue, so he could still enjoy meals, even if they all had a small metallic aftertaste.
Hanzo decided to try McCree’s ‘hellfire chili.’ He wasn’t expecting much, but McCree had proved him wrong before, so he took a small first bite and was overrun by flavors. He hadn’t eaten anything this spicy and flavorful in years. He had to use all of his self-control not to moan or drool. This cowboy was going to be the end of him.
Sometime after dinner Hanzo had made his way up to the rooftops, sitting peacefully and writing in his journal. McCree was an enigma of a man, one Hanzo was fairly certain he would never truly understand. Though he wanted nothing more than to try. There was so much more to McCree than the scruffy vigilante Hanzo had presumed him to be when they first met. Perhaps he would consult Genji for advice, even if it meant an eternity of teasing; getting the chance to get closer to McCree would be worth it.
“Thought I’d find ya up here.” Hanzo was startled by the voice, turning from his sitting position into a more defensive stance, only to see the cowboy smiling at him. “Didn’t mean ta startle ya.” McCree commented.
Hanzo relaxed, taking a seat once again. “I wasn’t aware you could be quiet.” Hanzo remarked.
“Ouch.” McCree said, holding a hand over his heart. “I was in Blackwatch, Han, I can be quiet sometimes.”
“In all the time I have known you, I believe this is the first time I haven’t heard the sound of your atrocious boots stomping around.” Hanzo retorted.
“My boots are nifty and ya like ‘em.” McCree stated. “Don’t try and insult the boots.”
“I suppose I prefer to hear your approach.” Hanzo remarked. “Were you in need of something that I can help you with?”
“I’m in need of a lotta things, darlin’” McCree replied. “But I just wanted ta ask ya if you liked dinner.”
“You are a surprisingly good cook.” Hanzo stated, ignoring the pet name. “I haven’t had something so nice in a very long time.” He added, knowing that McCree’s ego didn’t need any boosting, but it was true and he felt like telling the man.
McCree grinned at the complement. “Well shucks Han, guess I should take cookin’ duty more often.” He stated.
“I certainly wouldn’t object.” Hanzo commented.
McCree chuckled and tipped his hat to the archer. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He remarked. “See ya around Han.” He added, giving Hanzo the two finger salute before making his way down the roof back to ground level.
Hanzo smiled softly and turned his attention back to his journal. This cowboy would undoubtedly be the end of him.