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McCree loved Lijiang. The bustling, beautiful city filled with a wild array of interesting people. From the kids playing in colorful arcades, the street performers that caught your eye on every street, there was always something going on. No one looked twice as he walked through the bustling city in his full cowboy attire. He even got a few people wanting to take selfiies with him, giving them his signature-winning smile, making a pistol with his hand.
Overwatch had reason to believe the local triad had smuggled guns and drugs in and the delivery was going to be made in a few days to the top floor of Lijiang Towers, to be disrupted all throughout the city. Winston and Jack had done extensive research and some of the teams more tech savvy members had scoped out the joint. Jesse was, as per usual, just an extra gun. He hadn’t the patience for recon or scouting, just give him a target and let him go.
So he had a lot of free time on his hands, and he used this to explore the city. It truly was stunning, a modern utopia where humans and cybernetics alike lived peacefully and the local population where friendly.
Jesse McCree however, as you may know, had one character flaw. When he had too much time on his hands, he’d start stirring up trouble. Back when he was in Deadlock and there where no packages to smuggle he’d hassle the other members, often leading to fist fights in order to shut him up.
He couldn’t slow down his heartbeat. Ever. He was always on alert for danger or fun or usually, both. While in Lijiang he had already started an illegal gambling racket in one of the arcades with some of the kids, using candy as payment. He robbed them dry but usually gave it back. Stealing candy from babies wasn’t his racket.
Then he tried his hand at pan handling. Overwatch members where under strict orders to stay undercover and out of site, but Jesse figured the best hiding spot was in plain sight. Who would suspect a peculiar street performer, doing rope tricks and putting on cowboy pantomimes? That was his rationale. No one else knew he was doing it so it didn’t matter anyway.
But still, his need for action could not be sated. One night, a few days before the triad where supposed to make their drop, he was horribly bored, and he entered the plush hotel room he was sharing, Overwatch had forked out for a decent hotel considering this would be a longer trip, on the outskirts of the city, and stared stubbornly at his room mate.
“Hanzo” he said like a whiny toddler, “How can you just be sitting there when there is so much fun to be had outside!”
The other man did not respond, he was posed for meditation and reflection, and you would not even think he’d noticed Jesse’s entrance into the room, but for the slight furrowing of his brow.
McCree grunted, picking up a plush pillow off of his bed aiming it at the the chest of the solid man before him.
This earned a response. “McCree” Hanzo said gruffly, not opening his eyes, resolute in his stoniness. “You are disturbing my meditation.”
McCree scoffed. Meditation. He was pretty sure Hanzo was just sleeping or something. Nothing gained from sitting on your ass and contemplating it. He marched over to Hanzo and crouched, getting right in front of his face and squinting. Hanzo remained as still as a statue even though he knew exactly what McCree was doing.
McCree blew a puff of cigar-tainted air right into Hanzo’s face, earning him a quick punch to the sternum. He fell on the floor coughing as the other man got off his bed and moved into the bathroom he shared. He was asking for a different roommate next time.
“Do not mock my rituals McCree.” Hanzo called from the bathroom. “Meditation is an ancient art form, passed down for millennia. It is a chance to clear your mind, to focus on what is important and good. A chance to unburden yourself for the wrongs we have committed.”
“What about the wrong of you punching me in the stomach you a-whole” McCree lurched off of the floor grunting.
Hanzo returned from the bathroom, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “I will meditate on that later.” There was almost a hint of glee in his voice, like he was going to enjoy reliving the moment.
The next night, McCree returned to his hotel room to the same Spartan scene, Hanzo, sitting cross-legged on his bed, still as a statue.
“So how does meditation work exactly,” he said the word mediation like he was talking about voodoo or witchcraft.”
For a while Hanzo didn’t answer. McCree didn’t really expect him to, but after a few more moments of uncomfortable silence, “Would you like me to teach you?” Hanzo murmured from his position.
Was he being genuine? McCree didn’t care. Was McCree interested? He’d try anything once. “Ok sure.” He said with a laugh and Hanzo stretched his upper body out of its pose.
“Maybe if you get good enough at it, you’ll stop talking to me and be quiet for once,” before McCree, genuinely hurt by the comment could reply, “Take off those ridiculous boots and sit on your bed.
McCree started to feel like a child being bossed around by a strict parent, but he did as he was told, taking off his very stylish spurred boots and sitting on the bed.
“Now cross your legs. Or lay down, whatever is more comfortable to you.”
McCree decided lying down, exposed, would look awkward, so he opted for the cross-legged position, instantly regretting it as his old leg muscles gave protest.
“Okay. Sitting like a school kid now what?”
“Close your eyes… and shut your mouth” Hanzo added for good measure. You need to focus on controlling your thoughts, pushing away all distractions, clearing your thoughts.” Hanzo now sounded like he was passing on cherished knowledge, a gift almost.
McCree closed his eyes and thought about not thinking. Then he thought about all the candy he’d swiped from those kids that night. Then he thought about the mission. Then he thought about how ridiculous he felt.
“Nope, can’t do it, when your minds as sharp as mine it’s hard to find the off switch.” McCree opened his eyes.
Hanzo huffed in annoyance, looking the other man tiredly in the eye. “Try to focus on your breathing. In, out, in out. Push everything else away but the sound and the rhythm of your own breathing.
McCree breathed in deep and closed his eyes again. He was a nose breather and recently he’d developed some sinus issues. Maybe it was the spices in the Lijiang markets or something, so when he breathed in and out, his nose whistled. That’ll work. Just listen to the whistle. At least he thought it was working until Hanzo grunted in annoyance, snapping McCree out of what he thought might be the beginning of meditation.
“That is annoying.” Hanzo stated.
“What, a fella can’t breathe now jeez. You must have to be dead inside to meditate or something.
Fear, remorse and horror all flittered across Hanzo’s face. McCree quickly turned tail to fix his mistake.
“What else can you focus on to meditate?”
It took Hanzo several moments to compose himself, to focus back on the task at hand. “Your heartbeat.”
McCree scrunched up his face. That sounded made up. He was trained to listen to his surroundings, approaching footsteps and rustling grass, not his heartbeat. “I can’t hear my own dang heartbeat”
Hanzo looked genuinely puzzled, “Really? I can always hear mine. And I can certainly hear yours.” He snapped his mouth shut like he’d let out too much information.
McCree was baffled, as evidence by the look on his face. “You what?” How could hear someone else’s heartbeat, and WHY was Hanzo listening to Jesse’s.
To break up McCree's obvious confusion and discomfort Hanzo continued. “When you are blessed with the gift of the dragon” he said grandly, “your senses are more in tune, especially our hearing. My people use heartbeats as an indicator of enemy approach, or in interrogation.
McCree was almost mortified. Seeing Hanzo in the field, shooting arrows straight into people chests with dead on accuracy. Now it made sense. He was listening for the sound, and then waiting for the arrow to stop it. A chill went down McCree’s spine.
“What does mine sound like?” his Adam’s apple bobbed as he took a gulp.
“Like a rabbit.” Hanzo said without any inflection, “it beats fast, with no steady rhythm, like a child. It probably explains why you are so…. Boisterous. It is annoying.” He stated again. Before McCree could respond, “In battle, I often hear it, thumping in my ear like a jackhammer. You need to learn how to…. Chill.” His mouth formed the last word like it was in a foreign language. Still seeing McCree’s discomfort he continued.
“I hear all my team mates. It is how I am so easily able to assist and back them up. I can differentiate a heartbeat of a stranger, and that of an acquaintance.” He finished, looking at McCree like, well, a rabbit, that was about to bounce off at any moment.
“So” Jesse was still trying to process the large, strange nugget of information he had just received. “How do you use your heartbeat to meditate?
Hanzo paused for a moment before moving to sit next to McCree on his bed. “A dragons heartbeat is strong and steady, like the strike of a drum. He grabbed Jesse’s wrist without asking and moved it so it hovered over the uncovered part of Hanzo’s chest. “Do you mind?” the dragon asked. Jesse shook his head, agape as Hanzo placed McCree’s rough calloused hand against his smooth chest.
McCree blushed purple and he knew Hanzo could hear. Hanzo could hear the effect this contact was having on him. McCree had never noticed how broad Hanzo’s chest was. He flushed darker.
“Try and feel it.” Hanzo politely ignored all signs of Jesse discomfort and…. Something else McCree couldn’t place. Jesse closed his eyes and focused on the feeling between his hand and Hanzo’s chest. He waited for a moment until, boom, there it was. Like the beat of a big drum Jesse could feel he vibrations of Hanzo’s heartbeat.
“Whoa,” The cowboy widened his eyes and nearly removed his hand but Hanzo stopped him. “Keep listening. Focus on nothing else.” Jesse felt weird with how… intimate that sounded but he did as instructed. With the distraction of Hanzo’s heartbeat his mind began to clear. He relaxed into the feeling. He wasn’t asleep but he was… at rest. It was only in this moment that he realized how truly tired he was, continuing to feel the beat of Hanzo’s heart. He was entranced, all other thoughts removed.
“McCree,” Hanzo whispered gently into the fog, and Jesse’s eyes shot open. He was disorientated for a moment, the hotel room seemed foreign for a fleeting moment before he remembered what he had been doing. He looked at Hanzo, who was looking at him with a smug smile.
“That,” Hanzo intoned, “Was meditation. How do you feel?”
McCree thought on this. “Lighter, a little muddled in the head, room’s kind of spinning.” He suddenly realized his hand was still on Hanzo’s bare chest and he pulled it back with whip-cracking speed, missing the unreadable look on Hanzo’s face at the removal of contact.
“I uh… that was good… I feel good…” McCree tried to form the words but was still mulling over the experience he had just had. It had been everything Hanzo had said. Cleansing, relaxing, heck he couldn’t remember feeling this chilled since his first revolver was placed in his hot little hand. “We should do that again. I mean… Meditation… It was good,” he didn’t mention the other thought’s he was having, about touching Hanzo, how it made him feel.
Being so close to Hanzo, touching him so intimately, it had had more of a soothing effect than he would have expected. He’d always imagined copping a grope of Hanzo’s chiseled chest, he was a virile man after all and Hanzo was gorgeous. He’d had…thoughts. Who wouldn’t.
Why was he thinking about all this now though? He’d always pushed away images of him and Hanzo as silly, school yard crush stuff but now he felt a pull towards the bowman. He breathed slowly to keep a resting heart rate, to try and not give him away.
“I need a shower. I’m actually exhausted,” he muttered gruffly, standing up and moving toward the ensuite, before a thought occurred to him, “Hey Hanzo, he turned and saw the other man sitting with a curious expression on his face, distant, like he was looking at a fireworks display and was lost for words, he snapped to attention and McCree continued. “Since we got here, have you, you know, gone out and explored Lijiang at all? Apart from recon on the tower I mean.”
Hanzo didn’t reply for a while, “No, I prefer to stay out of site,” he said.
“Tomorrow, when I go out sight seeing, you should come with me.” He was being bold, just uncovering new feelings for a man who was too introverted to ever feel the same, now he was virtually inviting him on a date.
“What would be the purpose of that?” Hanzo asked genuinely baffled.
“It’s a beautiful city… Just think about it.” McCree darted into the bathroom, closing the door and hoping the walls where sound proof to dragon ears.
After much coaxing, (McCree had to practically beg, hands clasped), Hanzo agreed to accompany McCree outside into Lijiang proper.
“Where should we head to first partner?” McCree asked lighting what would be the first of dozens of cigars that day.
“I hear there is a lovely pagoda on the western side of the city. Or we could go and visit the golden lion statues.” Hanzo said observing the crowd around them with scepticism, no doubt in his mind they where all triad spies.
McCree looked at the other man like he was certifiably insane, “Naw. We ain’t doing none of that old fashion touristy crap. We’re gonna see the REAL Lijiang.
“Why did you ask if you where just going to igno-“
“It’s what we in the ol’ west call politeness. Now hush up and follow me.”
McCree led Hanzo carefully down roads and alleyways filled with souvenir shops and restaurants filled with delicious smells. Hanzo took special interest in one with a giant orange squid on it’s sign that said it sold Ramen, McCree promised they’d come back for dinner later, his heart swelling a little at Hanzo’s excitement. He quashed the feelings, reminding himself this was supposed to be a casual, fun day where he could coax Hanzo out of shell.
He led them to a noisy, colorfully lit arcade filled willed with videogames, air hockey tables and the like. To McCree's surprise Hanzo didn’t protest as they entered the arcade, mostly populated by teens dressed in trendy clothing. They all turned at McCree’s entrance and cheered.
“McCree!” said a young boy in a thick accent, running up to the cowboy with a bag full of candy. “I will beat you today! I have been practicing.”
“Heh, don’t count on it squirt, this ol’ dogs still got plenty of tricks up his sleeves.” The kids in the arcade laughed. They loved the weird cowboy with the funny accent who was a deadeye ate air hockey if McCree did say so himself.
“This reminds me of the arcades me and Genji would go to as children… I was always terrible at the games.” Said Hanzo quietly at McCree's side, as the bowman surveyed the arcade. That must have been why he agreed to come along. Nostalgia.
“Who’s that McCree?” asked a girl with bright green hair sitting by a pinball machine.
“This here is my friend Hanzo,” friend? They’d never really been friends, or friendly to be honest but McCree felt brave, “thought I’d bring him along and impress him with my skills. He can watch as I steel all yer candy too.”
“You steal candy from children?” Hanzo asked agape.
“Turn of phrase partner, I play against 'em a few rounds, winner takes home the jackpot.”
“So you gamble with children?” Hanzo said no more impressed.
“Hanzo ten years ago we where both illegal arms dealers. This child’s play!” he laughed haughtily at his own joke and began an air hockey game with the kid with the green hair. He won by a landslide.
The kid pouted, “You suck McCree, I want to play Hanzo.” McCree conceded and motioned a less than enthusiastic Hanzo towards the table.
“I told you I was not good at these games.” Hanzo said taking the paddle.
“You’ll be fine, these kids couldn’t play their way out of a paper bag.” The kid with the green hair stuck his tongue out at McCree and the cowboy mirrored her childishly.
It soon became clear that Hanzo was weaker than said paper bag. He cursed profusely in Japanese. Thank god they where in China or these kids would be terrified, instead they just laughed at his strange words.
“How is this fun?” he asked McCree looking dejected. McCree felt a pang in his hart, like he was looking at a kicked puppy.
“Your just too tense, you gotta keep your eyes on the point.” He got an idea, a stupid, very bad idea that he was sure to regret, especially if Hanzo didn’t play along. “Here, lemme help.”
He moved over to where Hanzo was standing, behind him, wrapping his metallic hand against the arm Hanzo was playing with. His arm must have been cold because Hanzo tensed and his breathing changed, but he did not object so McCree took that as an okay to go. He wrapped his hand delicately around Hanzo’s playing wrist, painfully aware of there closeness. McCree was struck with the sudden urge to breathe in the other mans scent, to kiss at his neck, to…
He needed to meditate. He was barely friends with Hanzo, he didn’t want to scare him off, or risk grievous bodily harm, over some crush, that was admittedly growing the more time he spent with the bowman. He suddenly remembered what he was doing.
“Ok” he said breathing away his nerves, he was glad cybernetics didn’t sweat, “You see the goal? That’s where you’re going to sink your arrow. Use the muscles you would to pull on your bow and fire.” Hanzo craned his neck and looked at the cowboy in confusion their noses nearly touching. Jesse would have thought the confused puppy thing where adorable if he weren’t so busy repressing his feelings. Finally realization dawned on the other mans face and he turned towards the hockey table.
The next time the puck came towards Hanzo, he thwacked it with deadly accuracy. If that had been an arrow it could have easily cut someone in half. The kid with the green hair stood agape and McCree and Hanzo grinned at each other.
They left the arcade with two bags full of candy that only McCree would eat.
As promised McCree led Hanzo back to the Ramen shop and they ate a late lunch together. Hanzo was practically bursting at the thought of eating ramen again, which he had been denied of for so long, apart from that crappy packet stuff Jack buys for them. McCree smiled as Hanzo took in a deep breath, taking in the smell of his meal. It was not at all adorable. McCree had to admit it smelled pretty damn good, he usually just went to one of the western food sellers around the corner but this looked quite delicious. He began eating and groaned unabashedly at how good it was.
“This place is so much like my home. My old home, in Hanamura; the arcades, the food, the people. It is… bittersweet being amongst it all again. But I like it. Thank you for convincing me to come McCree.” He looked the cowboy in the eye with something that looked like fondness, maybe something more? No McCree was deluding himself. Making a mountain out of a molehill.
McCree blushed slightly at this small gratitude and tipped his hat. “S’no problem. I knew you’d enjoy it.” He said slurping up some noodles from the bottom of his bowl, getting broth over his face.
Before he could wipe it however, Hanzo reached across the table and wipe the side of McCree's mouth with his thumb, like it was nothing. He sat back down and McCree sat back eyes wide. Hanzo continued to eat as if nothing had happened.
“You are a very messy eater,” Hanzo finished the last of the meat in his bowl with a delicate little bite.
They finished the night by relaxing in a courtyard and watching some local street performers. Hanzo produced some Yuan from his pockets and gave one to a particularly odd mime he said reminded him of that devilish Junkrat.
When they returned to their room, McCree was filled with the same feeling of jubilation and excitement he was whenever he explored the city, with the added excitement of having Hanzo with him.
“Your heart is beating too quickly,” Hanzo said, apparently over the course of a day they had reached a friendly relationship where Hanzo could just say stuff like that. “By the time you are 60 you are likely to have a heart attack the way you get so excited.”
“Psh, like I’ll last til’ 60.” McCree said offhandedly, shucking off his boots, hate, and serape.
“Do not say that.” Hanzo said suddenly stern, “You are an excellent warrior Jesse, and a very bright man. You will survive.” Having must heard the skip in McCree's heartbeat he said softly, “Would you like to meditate?”
McCree was shaken by the other mans words, and the certainty and possibly fear in his tone. “Sure.” He said letting out a breath.
They tried it again as they did before, but again, McCree’s nose had a whistle, and his own heartbeat was inaccessible to him, so he laid his hand on Hanzo’s chest again. It was covered this time, thank god; McCree really would have had a heart attack.
It lasted longer than the last time, Hanzo’s heartbeat easier to focus on that before. He must have fallen asleep because after what must have been at least an hour, Hanzo shook him.
McCree came out of his daze and looked the dragon straight in the eye, willing him to understand his growing feelings but fearing Hanzo’s reaction. He was still sure the bowman would never fall for the likes of him anyway, dishonor and all that.
“Thank you.” He said simply, before returning to his own bed. There couldn’t be any more denial. In the short time they had spent together this trip, Jesse had fallen for Hanzo Shimada, and he had never been so frightened. He felt his own pulse for the first time that night, hammering away, and let it lull him to sleep.
He woke up early and realized the curtains where open, which annoyed him, and that Hanzo wasn’t in the room, which getting used to being a pining old bastard, admittedly annoyed him.
Then he became aware of it, a thumping, and sort of a quiet, whisper of a noise that resonated in his skull. It didn’t hurt; it just thrummed through his body, like the steady beat of a drum.
He got up to investigate, searching around the room. He tried the ensuite, under the beds, in the wardrobe, but he still couldn’t find the sound of the noise. He opened the door to the room and looked both ways down the hallway. Nothing. He padded barefoot down the stairs in his pyjamas, down to the all you can eat buffet, where he knew some of the crew would be early at it. None of them could resist a good feeding.
He was right. Around one of the tables sat Reinhardt and Torbjörn, the groups bottomless pits, who could easily put the hotel out of business by themselves, Genji and Zenyatta, who where just there for the company, and Lucio.
He grabbed a cup of coffee from the station, and a plate of scrambled eggs, and a blueberry muffin. It was mission day, they needed to eat. He walked over in time to hear one of Reinhardt’s epic battle stories, and picked a seat next to Genji, who turned his metallic head quizzically, a lot of the team tended to avoid him. McCree thought he had a dark sense of humor and he liked that. He remembered the old Genji, from the old days, green hair and full of mischief.
He hadn’t noticed but he had been tapping on the table as he had been listening in companionable silence and eating his breakfast. The noise hadn’t gone away, he realized, and he was tapping the table in tune.
Again Genji turned towards him, his green visor blinking towards McCree’s hand.
“Sorry” the cowboy clenched his fist and closed his eyes, trying to force the sound out. The rhythm was familiar but he couldn’t place it.
“That is an interesting tune,” Genji said with an odd inflection, “Like the beat of a drum.”
“Yeah I ah, I think I’m a few chickens short of a coup Genj. I was tapping to this noise I’ve been hearing all morning. Like a thrumming in my head but it sounds real.
Genji made an interested sound, and then seemingly out of nowhere, “I heard you spent the day in the city with my brother, that must have been… fun.” There was no judgment but McCree sensed Genji knew something, the tone of his voice not accusatory but curious.
McCree thought about the day before, Hanzo’s joy throughout the day’s events, falling for him as he played air hockey and ate ramen.
“Yeah he’s not so bad your brother, once you loosen him up a bit. I think he enjoyed himself.” He though Hanzo had at least, where was that guy?
“He has a positive affected on you too it seems,” Genji said, and before McCree could ask. “Your heartbeat changed when you started thinking about him.
McCree tightened his lips into a thin line and looked at anything but Genji.
“And you do not question the fact that I can hear your heartbeat,” Genji said triumphantly, like he was finishing a particularly interesting puzzle. McCree swung his head and looked at the synthetic wide eyed.
“Do you want to take a walk?” Genji asked.
It was a pleasant day outside the hotel, there where some sun chairs where tourists could lounge. It was here that McCree’s life changed forever.
“Have you been spending… a lot of time with my brother?” Genji sat cross-legged on his sun chair, unable to feel the beautiful warmth of the son. McCree bet if he touched the younger Shimada brothers metal skin would be burning.
“Not really…” A lie by omission, “Not like, in a weird way, I mean we haven’t done-“
“No I do not mean that,” Genji cut him off, “Although I would be overjoyed if my brother could find comfort in someone as carefree as you. I worry about him being so alone. I mean have you been close on this mission? Have you spent any more time with him other than yesterday?” McCree had a feeling Genji already knew.
“He taught me how to meditate.” Jesse revealed. He was curious where this was going, and the steady thumping in his head was having a calming effect on him. “I couldn’t do it at first. Had to use his big old dragon heart as an anchoring point.” McCree knew Genji already knew how he felt about Hanzo. The heart tells all, and he hadn’t been hiding anything during the conversation.
“I see.” Genji said, like he was discovering how the earth revolved around the sun. There was a long pause as Genji reflected, his faceplate giving away no information.
Finally McCree had to ask, “So what is going on? Why are you so interested in me and your brother and what the hell is this noise in my head.” He was desperate.
“It is Hanzo’s heartbeat.” Genji stated plainly.
McCree looked at him like the sun had fried his circuits. “What? He’s not even here! I can’t hear my own heartbeat let alone someone who isn’t even in the dang room!”
Genji shifted, “You have formed a connection. You have probably heard of the tale of the red string that ties two people who are destined to meet together, it leads them towards one another,” McCree was starting to feel queasy. “When Hanzo shared his heartbeat with you he created a bond between the two of you.
“I didn’t ask him to do that!” McCree said, feeling violated.
“He must have felt very strongly towards you for him to do what he did. I have never known him to be so open with another person.
McCree stood up and began pacing, his own heartbeat beating fast, and angry, “He never told me! And now, what? I don’t get a choice? I have to listen to his stupid heart in my head just because he couldn’t tell me himself? We’re “bonded” what the hell does that mean anyway, why can I hear him? I don’t understand Genji!”
Genji sighed, “I am afraid that is all I can offer. I have told you that it is Hanzo’s heartbeat you hear, but I do not know why. I am unable to form such bonds myself.” He tilted his head, “Perhaps you should go talk to him, he has just arrived back at the hotel. I believe he has been scouting.
Now he focused he realized that the thumping in his head was a lot stronger, tangible, and he instantly knew where the source was. He ran up to his room at a sprint.
Almost slamming the door open McCree stared down Hanzo, who was cleaning his bow on his bed. They would have to leave for the mission soon.
“You’ve been lying to me.” Jesse said gritting his teeth. Hanzo’s hackles raised and he immediately stood up from his bed.
“About what.” Hanzo said, almost alarmed.
“When we where “meditating”” he use air quotes, “You where just trying to lure me in, to seduce me. To get me all riled up. I never asked to bond with you or whatever it is you’ve done to me.”
Jesse cared about Hanzo, and yes he had wanted them to be together, but now he stood here, staring at the man, who looked startled and hurt. What if him falling for Hanzo wasn’t real, a dragon thing to fool people, to mess with their minds? When he pressed his hand to Hanzo’s heart he didn’t know what he was starting.
The thought of sharing a bond with Hanzo wasn’t horrifying; it was the lying that bothered him.
“I haven’t done anything McCree,” there was an edge to Hanzo’s voice that had been absent during their time together, but now he was defensive. “You wanted to meditate, I helped you-“
“Yeah I bet. Helping me relax, spinning your web. What was yesterday? Was it all a trick? Did you hypnotize me or something?”
“McCree you are being stupid I can not hypnotize you or force you to do anything.”
McCree wasn’t sure. He could hear Hanzo’s heart, clear as crystal for the first time, booming like a canon. He didn’t know what that meant. He didn’t know what any of it meant.
There was a loud knock on their door, and Jack’s voice boomed through it, “Move out everyone we need to be on the truck, headed toward the tour in half an hour.”
McCree looked at Hanzo who looked very sad. The bowman picked up his weapon and left the room stiffly without a word.
The mission went south very fast. The triads where ready for them and had positioned themselves on all levels and sides of the tower, it took every agent just to hold the line. They had the cargo but they where trapped, gunmen surrounding them on all sides. Every agent was trying their hardest but the enemy was sneaky, and used the darkness well. McCree found himself shooting blankly into the shadows after a fleeing henchman.
His aim had been off all night, Hanzo, who was in close proximity, looking stony-faced and picking his targets carefully, was distracting him. Not the man himself but his heartbeat. It was booming and affecting Jesse’s focus. The triad numbers began to thin, only a handful surrounding the payload, which was now fully guarded by half the team.
Finally the guns stopped and McCree surveyed the surroundings. It appeared like everything was clear.
Suddenly, a shot rang out, and McCree felt an agonizing pain in his chest. Had he been hit? He looked down and saw no signs of blood, or a wound, but there was a commotion by the payload. Hanzo, who had been standing by the truck, had a big red wound seeping through the fabric of his stomach.
McCree caught site of the fleeing assailant and fanned an entire hammer into the son of a bitch before pushing past the crowd of agents to get to Hanzo. The bowmans heartbeat had stopped.
“Mercy! Mercy! Please help I think… I think he’s dying I can’t hear his heart! Many of the agents looked at him oddly but he heard Genji make a strange sound. Suddenly Hanzo’s eyes flickered open and he looked directly at McCree with cloudy eyes.
“You can hear... AGH” and he was out again.
It took Mercy hours to fix the damage done to Hanzo. The mission was a success but McCree was a mess. “You can hear,” Hanzo said…. He could hear what? The man he loved now more than ever, dying, that’s what. Even now, as McCree sat by Hanzo’s bedside, having not left it for two days; the bowman’s heartbeat was weak.
He regretted what he said to Hanzo. What if it was the last thing Hanzo heard from him, that the man he shared a bond with thought he was a liar and a charlatan?
Jesse was holding Hanzo’s hand when he felt a squeeze. He looked up, bleary eyed to see Hanzo looking at him with that same sad expression he had in the hotel room.
“Hold on darlin’ I’ll get Mercy.”
“No, Wait,” Hanzo coughed in a raspy tone, “I need you to know. I did not trick you.”
“I know I know please just let me get Mercy,” Jesse was openly crying, probably holding Hanzo’s hand too tight, but the other mans heart was beating again, stronger by the second and Jesse was overcome with relief and love. He didn’t care if it was voodoo or witchcraft. He loved Hanzo and he would cherish the heartbeat he heard from him until the day he died.
“No. McCree… I did not realize what I was doing, when we where meditating, I have heard of the old stories, about two hearts connecting but I was not trying to” he coughed again, and McCree ran circles around his hand with his thumb. He was being selfish. He should be running to get the doctor but he needed this moment, and he knew Hanzo needed it too.
“I have had… feelings for you Jesse,” Hanzo said looking almost ashamed, McCree wanted that look off his face immediately. “When we began spending time together I had no intention of forming the bond with you, you must believe me. I just wanted to spend time with you. I would never do something so… permanent without talking to you.”
Jesse’s heart fluttered, his feelings for Hanzo where real, and Hanzo felt the same way. He’d been such a fool to assume a good man like Hanzo would trick him
“It was only after I heard you say you could not hear my heart that I realized. The bond has to be reciprocated. Both people have to want to be a part of it. It is no trick.” Hanzo coughed again, and Jesse had heard enough.
“Ok now sweet pea stop talking or I’m gonna have to get the doc in here. I love you Hanzo. You’re a grouchy old so and so, and we couldn’t be any different but I do. And I am honored to feel your heart beating in my chest.” He leaned over and kissed Hanzo chastely, feeling the bowman’s heart skip a beat. He liked that. I wondered what other things he could make Hanzo’s heart do.
Hanzo wasn’t well enough to travel back to Gibraltar yet so he and Jesse spent their last few days together in their room, the cowboy spooning the shorter man in the same bed as Hanzo recovered. He’d tell him stories in his cowboy drawl and trace patterns on Hanzo’s tattoo, both of their hearts beating steadily, relaxed.
Most of the team had learned of their connection, each only understanding some parts of it, not the full extent, but Jack assured Jesse that he’d roster them together on missions as much as possible to make it easy for them. Jesse knew though, wherever in the world they where he’d always know where his partner was. He’d feel it in his chest.
He’d gotten quite used to the feeling of Hanzo’s beat. He began to understand what it meant when it beat faster, like when they kissed, or slower, when Hanzo was asleep. It was a great comfort, a portable meditation device Jesse could take wherever he went.
On their last day they visited the city again, Jesse using the excuse of Hanzo’s injury and slow gait to wrap his arms around his boyfriend. Hah, he thought, boyfriend, it made him giddy. It didn’t seem like the right word for people who where connected like they where.
They skipped the arcade but they ate ramen, holding hands under the table. They saw street performers and pantomimes and when it grew dark, there was a fireworks display.
They sat in a garden, wrapped in McCree’s serape watching the beautiful colors, and when they kissed, they shared fireworks in their chests, and their hearts began to beat as one.