He Could.
Three days later, Talon servers updated to say that Reaper’s infiltration of Overwatch was successful and that he was back with new information. Jesse stared at the bulletin on the screen of his tablet, the lights above him buzzing loudly.
There he was, Gabriel Reyes, dragged back down into the hellish mindset that was Reaper. The white mask leered at him, fractured at the edge from when Overwatch had finally taken him down. Angela had manufactured him a new face from stem cells, even if it was a grotesquely malformed mockery of his old one. But Talon was not going to let him keep it. Not when it was a gift from Overwatch.
Jesse was relieved that he was gone. He missed Gabe, but Gabe- the real Gabe- had not been in Overwatch since before the collapse of the Swiss base.
But a part of him still hurt. It hurt for the Gabriel in the Blackwatch program. It hurt for the Gabriel that felt underappreciated. It hurt for the Gabriel that fought for a better world. It hurt because Jesse knew that none of them were ever coming back.
He missed the family that Overwatch once was to him, back when even the biggest disagreements were solved by Morrison when he still had a level head.
But enough of that, he decided, setting the tablet on the table with the microwave.
He had finally been allowed to go back to his room today after Angie’s mandatory two-day recovery period. He still hurt, but it was not a hurt Angie could cure. And besides the heartache of Gabe’s second back-stabbing, he was finally free.
It would take him a moment to adjust, but Jesse Jeremiah McCree had nothing to be afraid of.
~
“[I believe in you, brother.]”
“[Stop talking to me.]”
“[Why? Does it annoy you?]”
“[Yes.]”
“[Good.]”
Hanzo glared over his shoulder into the green visor.
“[Are you… Are you sticking your tongue out at me?]” he said abruptly. He couldn’t help himself. He had looked through the glass again.
“[No.]”
“[I can see it through your visor.]”
“[I am doing no such thing.]” Genji folded his arms.
“Genji.” The cyborg cocked his head, triggering a traumatic flashback of his trademark shit-eating grin. Hanzo leered at him and threw his hands up in exasperation. “Privacy, please.”
“But what if something funny happens and I am not here for it?”
“You will live,” Hanzo growled, and shooed him off. “Be gone.”
Genji shook his head, but turned around and walked off. It was silent for a moment.
“I said be gone, not hide around the corner.”
“[Killjoy.]”
He raised his hand to open the door to his room, but stopped himself as the reality of his situation hit him. He was about to go inside of his apartment, where he lived, and flirt with a man. A tall man with dark hair and dark skin and dark eyes and freckles on his cheeks and a scrappy beard and a masculine face with the features comparable to a coyote. There might not have ever been a more picturesque, perfect example of what who he was not supposed to associate with.
And Hanzo was going to flirt with him for a pleasure that would take himself months to understand or get comfortable with.
Disgusting. Wrong. Sinful.
Dangerous.
Hanzo let his hand fall from the handle and took a step back, suddenly mortified. And what would happen if, one day, McCree decided to get stupid and got himself killed? What if, after supposedly years of opening up, once Hanzo was good and comfortable and happy, it was all torn away again? It was likely, considering the man had no concept of personal safety. The mission was a shitstorm, and McCree had charged into it head first without so much as a blink of fear.
He wondered if McCree would accept any types of advances. He could just imagine the look on his face- anger, or spite. He would laugh, or rage or jeer or spit, and it would hurt worse than if he had simply set Hanzo on fire.
And there were people who hunted him. What if they used McCree against him? The thought nauseated him. Jesse being locked in a prison cell in the depths of some desert or a military compound or a warehouse and being torn apart until he cursed the name Hanzo Shimada.
He took another step back.
What would his father say? He wouldn’t grant Jesse the mercy of a quick death. He would still be tortued and ripped at the seams and then killed and fed to the dragons like scrap meat.
Like Genji.
Yes, his father was dead, but there were people like him. Stares that bore into your soul when you walked down the street, videos on the news of people like him being thrown onto a stake and burned alive, tear gas and exections and stoning.
And in the middle of that hell he knew would be Jesse McCree.
And Hanzo could not even describe to himself the terrible things he would do to keep that from happening.
He opened the door and stepped inside of his apartment, but ignored the other man inside. He had no intention of ruining anything. If that meant living on the sidelines of a cowboy for the rest of his life, so be it.
But McCree would not so easily be swayed, apparently.
“Hanzo, darlin’,” he purred as Hanzo walked in, and he immediately considered leaving from the way the cowboy’s voice made him want to throw everything he just told himself out the window. “Never got that chance to thank ye’ for the cake.”
Was it just him, or did McCree look bashful?
“It is not a problem,” he said, and tried to scoot past, but Jesse blocked the way again.
“Lemme make that up to ya,” he replied. “They’re sendin’ us back t’ Dorado for a tick t’ attend a lil’ company jig hosted by the light company.”
Jesse lifted his mechanical arm and projected the holographic notification from the back of his hand.
It was a picture of a couple, dancing and spinning in the courtyard of LumeriCo surrounded by a downpour of confetti. Little golden lights sprinkled the edges of the roof behind them, casting black shadows on the ground. To the side, in sparkling golden letters, the invitation was scrawled.
“All agents of Overwatchs are formally invited to attend the Jubilee in Dorado, free of charge. There will be music, food, drink, and plenty of light, thanks to your efforts. Please dress formally to celebrate the last day of the Festival of Lights with your partners at LumeriCo!”
It shrank back into the cowboy’s hand and Hanzo glared at him. Was this supposed to be a date? Was the fucking cowboy asking him on a date? What kind of supernatural forces were at work today that so desperately wanted to test him? He opened his mouth to say no, but McCree’s face killed that urge.
Dark brown eyes peered down at him with so much hope that it squashed the urge to decline. Squashed it like a bug.
“So… I was jus’ wonderin’ if you were gonna be there,” he said, shrugging like he was trying to look casual.
Hanzo stared at him long and hard before suppressing a sigh.
“I will come, if you would like.”
“Good,” he said, back to that suave, silky tone. “I’ll be lookin forward to it.”
Hanzo couldn’t stand how transparent he was being. After all this self control that Hanzo had to practice to keep his selfishness at bay, he bastard goes from puppy-dog eyes to Casanova like it’s nothing, and Hanzo feels outdone, and his pride gets the better of him. He grabs Jesse’s chin in his hand gently, and guides him down to eye level.
“You should,” he growled, releasing him. Then without a word, he hurried into his room before his thoughts could catch up.
Sometimes he couldn’t fathom his own lack of self control, but god damn it, that man made it so easy to be careless.
~
Jesse stood quietly in the main room, his face burning and everything else tingling.
Now that was chemistry.
He pulled his hat down over his reddened face and let out a low whistle, committing that moment to memory. If nothing else worked out because Jesse turned out to be too frisky or clingy, he wanted to remember the fire in Hanzo’s eyes when he spoke just then.
He was a bit shameful that Gabe was forgotten so easily, but fuck that abusive shithead. Jesse was done helping someone who just wanted to hurt him, and their relationship never should have gotten as far as it did. Because Jesse never loved him like that and neither did he, but he wanted more control.
So sure, Jesse was a bit hurt and a bit guilty and a bit shaken, and sometimes he couldn’t fathom his lack of loyalty, but god damn it, that Hanzo just made it so easy to forget.