Sleepless
Hanzo spent the rest of the flight home in the corner drinking sake while McCree stared at him from across the jet compartment. He never looked over, because he knew exactly what he’d see. He’d see those goddamn puppy eyes burning guilt into his soul like a brand.
He had felt his resolve melt from him when Jesse leaned in to kiss him, but all at once, he had remembered what he told himself. Jesse McCree could not be with him, because McCree was good.
And Hanzo was a murderer and a traitor to his family. And above that, he was mean. After what Jesse'd been through, he deserved better.
But McCree had no intention of letting it go. He made that clear in every day from there on out, always trying to get Hanzo alone, probably to talk. He wouldn't let him. McCree was going to move on without him and find someone who deserved him.
At least, that was the plan, but for the third time in a week, Jesse had caught him coming back into the apartment and cornered him. Not in the way he had the other two times. No, he literally locked Hanzo into a corner with an arm on either side.
The archer scowled up at him, but when he met his broken eyes, his anger shattered, and he had to look back away.
"Why're you avoidin' me so bad, Han? What's th'matter? Am I really that bad?"
He wanted to shake his head, to grab McCree and tell him it was the most fun he'd had in years, press their lips together and feel the other man melt. But he could not.
"McCree, let me go."
"McCree? Is it McCree now?" he whispered, his voice cracking so hard that Hanzo shrank back a little. "What happened to Jesse?"
"We can not be so intimate," Hanzo insisted, folding his arms tightly into his chest.
"Why?"
I am a bad influence. I am cruel. You are not safe while I am still on the radar in Hanamura. I am unsympathetic and imperfect and you are so much more.
"Because," he said through gritted teeth, "Jesse- McCree, we can not."
"Hanzo, you're not makin' any damn sense. I know I wasn't the only one who felt that lil spark in Dorado, aright? You ain't givin me a reason why yer so goddamn evasive nowaday!"
"Because I-" Hanzo slapped a hand over his mouth before he could finish the sentence 'I love you.' "Move," he snarled, and shoved his way violently past McCree. He was not sleeping here. Not tonight, and not ever. He could not face those broken brown eyes again. The door slammed behind him and he found himself instinctively drawn to the rooftops.
He sat there, sitting with his arms wrapped around himself until the stars were swallowed by the early light of the morning and the horizon turned a peachy orange. The last thing he saw before going to sleep was the first sliver of sun that seeped over the distant cliffs.
~
Jesse didn't sleep that night, because he knew the nightmares would come for him. It always happened when he fought with Gabe, and when Hanzo had left, he felt that familiar sense of doubt and anxiety that told him he should stay away from the wretched tomb that was his bed.
He knew Hanzo felt the same way about him, goddamn it. His eyes would light up with fucking lightning when he saw him, his cheeks would get pink when he said hello, his smile, that rarity that McCree once was sure didn't exist had become a commonplace when McCree did so much as speak to him.
Which meant there was something holding him back. Something painful, by the looks Hanzo doesn't think Jesse can see.
It was going to drive Jesse insane if they kept up this game, because he sure as hell was not going to give up. Hanzo was beautiful, even beyond those sharp cheekbones and silky hair and rainy eyes. The dumb jokes that he told on missions that he thought nobody payed attention to, the ones he couldn't get through without giggling to himself. The awkwardly sweet way he presented his feelings. Even his fury was beautiful, in the dead of night when he had seen Jesse on the floor of the apartment with a fractured rib and a black eye, and his usual endearing scowl had turned dangerous. His eyes narrowed and focused in on Gabe, his shoulders had drawn back, and his lips pulled up and in that moment, he had truly looked like a dragon.
He had smiled once when Jesse was there to watch. All other times he came close to smiling, it was like he crushed the feeling until it was little more than an impulse and his mouth just quirked at the edges, but one time he had let one slip.
It was when they were on the Dorado mission, and he told a joke to himself, and he grinned and chuckled aloud. That sound was all McCree ever wanted to hear. The sight of his smile was all he ever wanted to see. It did inhuman things to his heart to think about waking up to see that smile first thing in the morning.
He would not let Hanzo go, and he sure as hell wasn't going to let him suffer alone.
So he needed to talk to the best authority on him.
He found Genji at the seaside, unsurprisingly hanging off of Zenyatta, his arms holding him around the omnic's shoulders.
"Master, I am bored."
"Patience is a virtue, my student."
"What about fun?" Genji replied. "Is fun a virtue? Because, forgive me master, I am lacking."
Zenyatta let out a quiet chuckle.
"You have meditated much, Genji. Surely ten more minutes will not end your life."
"Have you ever tried to juggle?" Genji asked, ignoring him completely.
"No."
"You should."
"I will not juggle," Zenyatta replied, somehow sounding exasperated.
McCree cleared his throat pointedly. One of Zenyatta's switches clicked in alarm and Genji looked over his shoulder, visor brightening as if he was embarrassed. He slid off of Zenyatta's back and situated himself with more dignity beside his boyfriend. "Hello Jesse," he said stiffly, acting like nothing happened. "What brings you to meditation."
"Is that what ye call it?"
Zenyatta chuckled again, and Genji folded his arms. "So you came to taunt me?"
"Well, a lil," Jesse admitted. "But mostly I wanted to talk about yer brother."
Genji hummed, and the light on his visor blinked a few times. "Alright, but don't tell me anything I don't want to hear."
Jesse nodded and sat down beside him, wondering idly if Zenyatta should be here. As if reading his mind, Genji said, "Zenyatta already knows everything that needs to be known about him. There are no secrets."
Jesse nodded gratefully, and twiddled his thumbs, wondering how he should go about asking about this. He didn't want to probe too much for fear of invading Hanzo's precious privacy, but there was clearly something big bothering him, and he wanted to help even if Hanzo wanted to kill him for it.
"He's real troubled lately," Jesse began, figuring that was a safe enough start. "I been... Well, I ain't gonna lie, I been flirtin' with 'im."
Genji hummed again. "And he's been distant and disagreeable, hasn't he?"
"Yeah, but... he's also... hurt, I think."
"What do you mean by this?"
Jesse shook his head.
"I don't think he actually wants me to leave him alone. It's like he's worryin' about me, but he'll only do it from afar. Soon as I get too close, he gets nervous. Starts talkin' like were not allowed to be close, like there's somethin' waitin' around the corner if we hook up."
Jesse finished and looked down at Genji, who was now out of meditation position and sharing eye contact- or the closest thing to- with Zenyatta. Abruptly, he looked back to McCree.
"You must talk to him," Genji decided.
"About what? He won't talk," Jesse pointed out, feeling hopeless.
Genji paused for what seemed like a long time.
"Be patient, Jesse. My brother is not yet healed from his past, and he will not take kindly to you bothering old wounds." He stood up, offering a hand to help McCree do the same. "But like an oyster, even he will open up with enough time and compassion."
Jesse let that sink in for a moment, then turned to look at his friend.
"You talk like a goddamn priest," he said finally, and Genji chuckled.
"My apologies. I only spend twenty-four hours a day in the company of a monk."
"Twenty," Zenyatta interjected, sighing dramatically. "I am woefully alone for four hours a day when he wanders off."
"Do not let him fool you," Genji pulled McCree aside and whispered, "He spends this time with Bastion and Ana."
Jesse just shook his head and left them to their playful theatrics. Robots and the like could be surprisingly dramatic.
~
Unfortunately for Hanzo, it rained that day.
He woke to cold water on his face, and had to scuttle under an awning for shelter, but not before the rain had soaked through his clothes. He crossed his arms and sat down, stomach protesting his distance from the dining hall, but churning to the point that he had no desire to eat.
So, he sat on the deck watching the rain soak the orange ground and turn it burnt sienna until a door opened behind him.
The jingle of spurs was unmistakable. He sighed irritably.
"[Jiyu-chan, Otosan, Okaasan, and every other spirit of the dead, give mestrength,]" he muttered sarcastically.
"Who's Jeeyoo-chan n' how'd he die?"
Hanzo winced, and clapped his palm onto his forehead. Fucking Genji just had to ruin everything. Teaching McCree Japanese, telling everyone he attacked Gabe. If he hadn't almost killed his brother once, he would be plotting revenge. Still, he would have a few select words to say to him.
"How much of that did you understand?" he asked. Best to assess what he could and could not say around Jesse right now before he put himself in the doghouse again.
"Mother, Father, spirit, dead, give, me, and Jiyu-Chan."
Hanzo grunted, not looking back at him. It was cold outside, and his clothes were soaked, and he had no intention of letting McCree see him so tired and disheveled.
"Ye just gonna ignore th'question?"
"Yes."
McCree sat down beside him and he turned away. If he talked about Jiyu-Chan he knew he would get emotional. And he would not do that either. McCree would never see him in any imperfection even though they would never be together. Hanzo had every intention of keeping the little dignity he still had.
McCree sighed, and Hanzo heard the click of a lighter. A moment later, the spiced smell of cigar smoke flooded the balcony.
"Y'wanna know how I joined Deadlock?" he asked.
"You killed your father," Hanzo replied grouchily.
"Why'd I do that, Han?"
Hanzo paused. He had never really put in too much thought on the matter. He probably thought that McCree was forced to do it, or he did it accidentally, or something along those lines, but now his curiosity was piqued. He stayed silent, unsure of what to say.
"How come I killed my dad? How come I joined a gang? How come I left 'em so willingly?"
Hanzo was so weak.
"You tell me, cowman."
It was an instant change in the air between them like when you can feel the static in the air during a storm, and then lightning hits and it all vanishes. It was exactly what Jesse wanted to hear. He turned to face Hanzo, his teeth clamped hard around his cigar, tornadoes in his eyes.
"I will. But only if ya answer my question first. Who's Jiyu-chan an' how'd he die?"
Hanzo glared at him now, whipping his head to look at him. The bastard knew that Hanzo wanted to make him happy by lending his ear, and he was using that against him.
"Why should I trust you?" he said after a brief silence.
"Cus I ain't got no reason to lie to ya."
Hanzo closed his eyes and covered his face, taking a deep breath. He could be as brief and vague as he wanted. He could leave out details if he felt he needed to. He just needed to say who Jiyu-Chan was and how he died.
That's it.
"Jiyusuke," Hanzo began, talking into his hands, "was... my first love. My father killed-..."
He cut himself off to consider whether or not to include this next detail before pressing on.
"My father killed him."
He killed him in the courtroom. Looked me in the eye and put an arrow in Jiyu-chan's head and told me I was never to love another man. I told him he would be safe, that I would not let anyone touch him. And because I went to see him one too many times, he is dead.
Hanzo didn't realize he was still talking until a bit of water dripped from his cheek that was not from the rain. He thought he could feel himself shaking, and he cursed himself, slamming a fist down on the concrete. If it were not for the agreement he had, he would leave right now and spare himself the pain of Jesse's look of shock. But he did not just open up for nothing, so he stayed.
He tried to get himself together, but before he could take a deep breathe, he felt himself being pulled sideways. He had no fight left to stop Jesse from wrapping his arms around him, so he rested his head on the other man's chest, not daring to look up in case Jesse's face held judgment or disgust.
It seemed like hours that he rested there, tears burning into Jesse's shirt while he let himself soak up the warmth.
~
McCree didn't care that Hanzo was soaking wet or that he was colder than ice, or that the tears seeped through his t-shirt. The archer shook in his arms, tensed up. Jesse knew it was because he was trying to control himself.
"Jesse McCree, you are not safe with me. The Shimada family stops at nothing to get what they want. They did not stop for Genji. They did not stop for Jiyusuke. And they will not stop for you."
Jesse didn't know how to respond to that, so Hanzo kept talking.
"Even if I can evade them, do you think they will be gentle? They will find me, even if it means-" he stopped to swallow, his voice turned more menacing than broken. "Even if it means tearing an innocent cowman into a thousand pieces and scattering him to the wind to make me come to them to avenge you."
He was still tense, his arms criss-crossed over his chest. Jesse blinked at the rain outside the awning that sent mist scattering into their little shelter.
"And would ya?" Jesse said.
Hanzo stopped talking.
"Would I what?"
"Avenge me?" Jesse said, staring at his slick black hair. Hanzo was silent again for a minute, then pushed away from his chest. Jesse thought he felt the faint tremble of laughter in the archer's shoulders.
"No. I would send them a postcard thanking them for their civil service," he said, still pushing.
Jesse looked down and couldn't help but laugh at the shorter man. His eyes were closed tightly, and his eyebrows were creased like he was angry, but his mouth had broken into a beautiful, radiant smile. He was, indeed, laughing silently despite himself, his shoulders quaking with the effort of keeping it quiet.
"Let me go, you big buffoon," he insisted, a smile still in his voice, but Jesse was not relenting. He held him tightly against his chest despite Hanzo's half-hearted shoving.
"Nah," Jesse said, hugging him tighter until he let out a dramatic gag.
"You are suffocating me," he complained.
"Then how come ye can still talk?" Jesse teased, but loosened his grip. Hanzo didn't make any further effort to escape.
They sat like this for a moment, Hanzo awkwardly leaning on McCree's chest.
"So what about you?" Hanzo asked abruptly, ruining the moment.
"Ain't much ya haven't heard," Jesse said. "My paw was an angry ol' bastard. My maw could only barely feed the four've us on tips, an' there were a lotta nights where me n' my lil sister and my big brothers went t'bed hungry."
Hanzo said nothing, so he continued.
"Anyway, Deadlock came t'our house one day lookin' for trouble. I got a hold a my paw's pistol and-" he pantomimed the act of shooting a gun with his fingers, "Bam. Got one a the sons a bitches right through th' forehead. Deadlock Gang couldn't get my ass into their gang fast enough, but they wanted me t' prove I could do it again. An' it was one a those days that my paw was feelin' pissy, so he hit my maw, hurt her real bad... so I shot him, too, an' joined on the promise that they'd keep my family fed."
Hanzo hummed thoughtfully, so quiet Jesse wondered if he imagined the rumble of Hanzo's voice in his chest.
"Why did you leave?" he asked. Jesse tapped the ash off the end of his cigar.
"I was real young. It's easy bein' a tough guy when yer young an' ya barely realize what yer doin' to people. But, I got a lil older, a lil wiser, and then Gabe showed up an' offered me a gig. Not only did it pay better, but it was fer a good cause. Didn't wanna be fuckin' people over forever, y'know?"
He felt Hanzo nod against his chest.
"You are a wonderful man, Jesse McCree."
Jesse felt a smile break through his solemn expression.
"I wouldn't say wonderful..."
Hanzo sat up and grabbed his face, eyes flooding with the same intensity as when McCree invited him to Dorado. "Wonderful."
Jesse chuckled quietly. "Thank you, darlin'."
Hanzo grunted, and sat back, leaving McCree without him in his arms anymore.
"Y'know, Han, I can handle myself."
"I know," Hanzo replied, "I have seen you."
"An' I'm no stranger to bein' hunted. Remember I was on the run from the cops fer prolly five years, and they didn' even catch me at the end there."
"The police are concerned with public safety and protocol. The Shimada clan is not." Hanzo was back to his serious scowl, staring at the ground solemnly. "What shall we do if I must leave one day, back on the run? Where will that leave you?"
Jesse thought about it for a moment, then picked up Hanzo's hand and laced their fingers together, deciding he wanted to be sappy about it.
"Darlin', I would sleep on a bed a rocks fer an hour a night an spend the rest a my time driving if it meant you'd be by my side the whole way," he said.
Hanzo stared at him incredulously, then cracked an irritable smirk and pushed him away with one finger to his forehead.
"You are being dramatic," he accused.
"No!" Jesse defended himself. "I'm serious, I would! I'd do anythin' for you t' stay with me. Ya want me to kill someone? I can do that. Want me to punch myself in th' face? I'll punch myself in the face right now, just you watch me."
Hanzo let out a low chuckle.
"Dramatic."
Jesse was going to protest, but he was interrupted by the beautiful feeling of Hanzo's fingertips dragging along his jawline, leading him forward.
When their mouths met, it was like fire. No, scratch that, it was like the sun exploded on Jesse's lips. Like his skin was made of firecrackers and contact with Hanzo set them alight. He leaned into it, desperate for more, heat and pressure massaging his lower lip when Hanzo moved down to suck on it. '
Jesse gasped and pulled the other man into him so that their chests were pressed together and he could slips his hands under Hanzo's shirt and explore his back with his finger tips.
~
McCree pulled him in fervently as soon as he moved to his lower lip. The gunslinger was milking sighs from him now, one hand travelling over his back and leaving scores, the other cradling his head to play with his hair.
Hanzo couldn't help but groan in appreciation when McCree moved too close and brushed his knee against his thigh, and he pulled away nervously.
The other man was flushed with red, his eyes drowsy and his mouth parted like he was still expecting something there.
"What's th' matter, sugar?" He asked.
"Nothing," Hanzo insisted, trying not to let that new pet name get to him while he scooted away.
"No, wait," McCree said, resting his hand on Hanzo's knee. He jerked his leg away.
"Do not do that," he warned, and McCree cocked his head in confusion. His eyes seemed to realize where his hand had been before Hanzo moved, and his smile grew mischievous.
"Why?" McCree purred. "You gettin' restless... sugar?"
"Stop this. What do they say? Get your mind out of the gutter?" Hanzo asked, though he felt the heat bleeding through his cheeks.
But Jesse leaned towards him and rested his head on Hanzo's knee, which was drawn to his chest.
"Darlin'," he said, "Ain't nothin' wrong with a lil' bit a fun."
Hanzo peered at him, frozen with ruby-red cheeks.
"This is not fun. This is embarrassing," he affirmed, but his face only got redder. He was relenting- McCree could tell by the way he pulled his knees close to himself. Fidgeting. Hiding something.
"Please, sugar," Jesse said, keeping one hand on his other knee, "Don't shut me down like this. Let me show ya how they do it on the border."
Hanzo stiffened, staring at him with deep consideration. Finally, he let out a growl that did sinful things to McCree's insides, and leaned in, resolve broken like a goddamn mirror by Jesse's massaging on his knee.
"No," he said, voice low, albeit uncertain, "Let me show you."