#I fuckin. I made up SeraPent. That one is pretty much all me-

[festive-unserious-fellow]

In my demented little head Sir Pentious is getting so many bitches lmao

[great-master-airplane]

Number 22 for mchanzo please? Love u ❤❤❤❤❤❤

Aahhh thank you!!

22. “Choose me.”

Jesse McCree looked aroundhis room and found it bare. Nothing to suggest he’d ever been there. Nothing tosuggest he might come back. Nothing of himself within these grey walls he’d calledhome twice.

He slung his bag over hisshoulder. Paused. Tried to stifle the reluctance brewing in his stomach.

Leaving was for the best.It was a mantra he’d repeated a countless number of times in front of hisbathroom mirror. Leaving was for the best. The more he said it, the less hebelieved it, and the more he wanted to just unpack and stay instead of being a fucking coward—

Jesse took a deep breath. Bestto leave on a high note, anyway. Nothing had happened. Nobody would suspect thereal reason he wanted to leave. And if they did? Maybe he could get out before someonecalled him out on it.

Leaving was for the best.Maybe one of these days, he would believe it.

Jesse left his room, emptyand devoid of any trace he’d been there. Later, if anybody realized he hadn’t beenthere for breakfast or training, then one of them might go check on him. Find nothingbut the faint aroma of tobacco.

Maybe it would be Angie,and she could get all annoyed with the realization he’d been smoking in hisroom. Or maybe Genji, who probably wouldn’t tell anybody for a while; he’dunderstand and give Jesse the opportunity to get a head start.

Probably, though… Hanzowould be the one to check on him. He wouldn’t be there for their morning practiceor for lunch, which both of them attended religiously if they weren’t out on amission. Hanzo would probably go to his room and knock. Wait. Call out for him.Wait.

Hell, maybe Hanzo wouldeven kick down the door. McCree got a little chuckle out of that. Probably not.He’d just ask Athena where McCree was.

And then Athena would tellHanzo that Jesse wasn’t on the base anymore. Left early in the morning, beforethe sun was up. Didn’t even have the decency to fucking say goodbye, just ranoff.

Likea fucking coward.

McCree shoved away thethoughts as he continued down the hallway, careful to keep quiet. The lastthing he needed was somebody hearing him and coming out to see what the noisewas. Then he’d have to explain, and explanations were messy.

He thought about stoppingby some of their drinking spots. The ledge atop the watchpoint, where Hanzoliked to monkey himself up and McCree used the stairs like a normal fuckingperson. The lounge, where Hanzo had fallen asleep on him for the first time.Hell, he even thought about stopping by Hanzo’s room to just stare at the doorlike a fucking creep, but no. He avoided all of those places.

Just made for the door,fully intending on vanishing into the dark cover of morning twilight. He madeit pretty far, too. He was outside, headed for the open road. Ready to leave everythingbehind him (again) and everybody he ever cared about (again) and not look back.

“Going somewhere,gunslinger?”

McCree stiffened. Shit. He turned around to find Hanzo leaningagainst the wall and watching him. Not the Hanzo that everybody was used toseeing, with his hair up and his clothes pristine. No, this was Jesse’s Hanzo, whose hair was free and a little disheveled and who wore sweatpantsand a t-shirt in place of his usual garb. This was the Hanzo that not many knewexisted but which Jesse knew intimately.

This was the Hanzo that he—

“Funny,” continued Hanzoin a tone that suggested he did not find this very funny at all, “I do notrecall you mentioning that you might be leaving. Is there a mission?”

McCree ground his teeth.Fucking Shimadas and their sneakiness. He should’ve known one of them wouldcatch him. He just wished it had been the damn ninja and not the one he’d beenhoping to avoid.

“No,” McCree saidcarefully.

“No?” Hanzo repeated, andthere it was. That signature Hanzo Rage that came out when he got a little angrierthan normal. He likely knew what McCree was up to and didn’t understand it, sothat pissed him off. “Then where would you be going with all of your belongings?”

McCree might as well be bluntabout it. “I’m leavin’, Hanzo. And I ain’t comin’ back.”

Hanzo was quiet for amoment, digesting this. When he spoke, his voice was curt and emotionless, theHanzo that McCree had first met who didn’t want to get attached to anybody andespecially not the cowboy.

“Why?”

“I got my reasons,”answered McCree, not wanting to get into this with him. Maybe with somebodyelse, but not with Hanzo.

Hanzo leveled him with aglare. “Which are?”

Jesse looked at Hanzo andsaw the distress gleaming behind the mask of anger. He deserved an explanation,but what did McCree say? That he couldn’t stay here anymore because just thesight of Hanzo made his stomach queasy? That the sight of Hanzo smile brightenedhis day, even when he was tired and sore after a long mission? That nothingmattered more to him than the evenings they spent together, drinking andtalking about nothing and everything or even just sitting in silence and appreciatingeach other’s company?

That Jesse was so fuckingin love with Hanzo that he was stupid with it?

No. McCree couldn’t sayany of that. Not when it might sour their friendship, even if McCree neverintended on seeing Hanzo ever again. He wanted Hanzo to remember him fondly, ifno other way. As friends.

Jesse wanted to throw up.

He picked the bestbullshit he could come up with, something Hanzo might believe. “Listen, Han, Iain’t one to work with groups—”

“Neither am I,” Hanzo interrupted.“Try again.”

Jesse huffed. “I hatesittin’ in one place all the time—”

“As do I,” Hanzo sneered,a bit triumphant. “I can do this all morning, Jesse.”

“Fine. I got one you ain’t gonna measure up to.” And McCree made hisbiggest mistake: stalking closer to Hanzo, as if proximity might help him gethis point across. “Overwatch ain’t justice. It’s never been justice. Yeah, maybe it started out like that in the beginnin’,but that wasn’t what it ended up bein’. It was all money and politics, and thefuckin’ victims ended up comin’ second.”

“Overwatch is different now,is it not?” Hanzo pointed out, a little quieter than before. He was staring atMcCree’s face with something akin to fear, as if he’d just realized that McCreewas serious about leaving. As if he’d just realized he might never see McCree again, so he had to soak inall of him while he had the chance.

Or maybe that was justwishful thinking on McCree’s part. Probably. He just couldn’t see a scenariothat ended happily for him. In every daydream he’d ever concocted where he toldHanzo the truth, he always ended up being called a fool because who could ever love a man like him? Hanzoprobably didn’t even like men, and ifhe did? McCree was probably at the bottom of his list.

“Yeah, it’s different now, but I know how this’ll go. We won’twe workin’ under the radar for long before somebody catches us, and then they’lleither take us down or build us back up. And if it’s the second one, then Overwatchshould ‘a just stayed dead. We’ll end up bein’ all about money and politics again, and that ain’t justice. Not to me.”Jesse paused to catch his breath. Some of that might actually have been true,which was good for him. Hanzo might earnestly believe it if there was an air ofreality to it.

“So the way I see it, I gota choice to make: do I stick around and see what’ll become of us the secondtime around or do I go out on my own again and make my own kind o’ justice?”

Hanzo’s eyes were dark andstormy, like that quiet moment of intensity before he unleashed hisdragonstrike. McCree held his gaze as he waited for Hanzo buy his bullshit andlet him go, and he tried not to think about how much he would miss this assholearcher. Already, he felt the hole of yearning expanding in his chest, and he wonderedwhat would happen first—if he would get over his feeling for Hanzo or beswallowed by them.

At last, Hanzo reached hisdecision with a quiet huff and a tilt of his chin. McCree didn’t have long tofigure out what he was so frustrated about before Hanzo’s hands were curledinto his serape.

“You have one more choice,”he growled and then pulled McCree in.

His hat fell to the ground,but he didn’t care. His serape was strangling him, but he didn’t care. All hecared about was the hard press of Hanzo’s mouth against his, kissing him withsuch determination that McCree was too stunned to even react. By the time he realized he should do something—at leastkiss the man back, dammit, how long have you been dreaming about this? —Hanzopulled away again, breathless and overcome with emotion.

“Choose me,” Hanzo encouraged, his voice rough and inviting. ”Stay.See this through. And if you do not like the direction the reformed Overwatchis headed, then we will leave together.”

“Together,” Jesse repeated,dumbfounded.

“If you will have me, thatis. I do not wish to presume….” Hanzo’s eyes shifted downward, momentarilyplagued with doubt, and McCree reached up to brush his fingertips along Hanzo’scheek.

“Darlin’,” he said, stillstunned but determined to work through this before Hanzo got the wrong idea. “I’lltake anythin’ you’re willin’ to give me.”

Hanzo looked back up athim, relief etched on his face. “Then we are in agreement? You will stay?”

 Jesse thought about all ofhis fake reasons for leaving and the one realreason, whose hands were still tangled in his serape as if to keep himleaving by sheer force. He supposed he really couldn’t leave now, could he? Still, he should probablydraw this out a little bit more, not give away his real motives just yet.

“I dunno,” McCree said,turning away a bit only to be jerked back by Hanzo. “I might be in need of alittle more convincin’.”

And Hanzo’s eyes narrowedknowingly, his lips curling up in a smirk. He began to lean in again, slower nowthat the urgency was gone. “As much as it will take.”

“That’s good,” he mumbledagainst Hanzo’s lips, much more prepared this time. “Cause I’ll need convincin’for a long time.”

[demialwrites]

That’s Touching Ch 9

Link to AO3 Page

Sombra and Widowmaker are walking down the streets of London, in between missions. Reaper was absent, not that he could have been walking along a sidewalk in the middle of the day, anyway. Widowmaker didn't care that Reaper was gone, but Sombra felt his presence like a knight missing a piece of armour. She knew Reyes had been reassigned elsewhere and felt a little naked. Amelie was fine, and she kept walking and chatting with Sombra. Except that Sombra was doing most of the talking, and Widowmaker is walking the sidewalk like it's a fashion runway, with her waterproof highheel boots and knee-length, fitted raincoat. Sombra was jealous of Amelie for her fashion sense, but that's the only thing she was jealous of. So she kept it to herself. And she was competitive.

"Ergh. Where's Gabe?"

"Doing god-knows-what, god-knows-where," came the apathetic reply. Widow barely took her mouth from the straw in her black iced coffee when she spoke.

"You're not helping."

Amelie ignored Sombra and continued to sip her coffee slowly, as if it was her current source of life and needed to be carefully rationed.

"They're going to keep splitting us up, you know?"

"There are just two of us; there is not much else to split."

"I'm just saying, we need to think of a reason for them to keep us together."

"And we need to stay together for what reason?"

"Because, querida, we work well together."

"You are so bitchy," said Widow.

"Then you know I'm serious."

Amelie kept walking, but Sombra went silent. She walked exactly two inches to the left of Widow, staring up at her expectantly. Widow inclined her head slightly, waiting, but Sombra was patient.

"Ugh," spat Amelie, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk. She turned her head so fast that her hair whipped around, "What is your plan?"

"I'm so glad you asked, my friend!"

Winston stood, puzzled, in front of his blackboard, yet again. He wiped out part of one equation and drew something else in its place.

"You have an incoming transmission from Agent McCree, Winston," Athena said.

"Patch him through," he said, climbing up to his computer.

"I know yer busy, Commander, but I have news."

"Of course."

"I found Mercy."

"Go on."

"She darn refused to tell me why she left, though."

"That's unusual."

"Yeah," McCree replied.

"Agent? Are you still there?"

"She cried, Commander."

"Bring her back, and we'll talk this over."

"...Right. McCree out."

A day later, Jesse had finally made it back to the watchpoint, done with whatever he was doing. He reported to Winston and then made a beeline to your room, intending to check on you and Genji. You were happy to see him, because you'd missed your friend. You also wanted to know where the heck he'd been. It's not often that a mission is secret, and that everyone wonders about it like they did.

McCree took Genji from your arms and pressed his nose to the baby's, smiling.

"Did you get a mite cuter since I left? I've only been gone a few days."

Genji giggled, his little dark eyes shining with glee.

"Jesse, what if the real Genji's still partly in there? What if he heard what you just said," you taunted playfully, digging your elbow into McCree's human arm.

"Now, that would be embarrassin'."

McCree booped Genji's little nose.

"You forget that. That's an order."

You tilt your head and place your hands on your hips.

"So?"

"So what?"

"Where you been?"

McCree uses his forearm to hook underneath Genji's bottom, holding Genji against his chest. Genji immediately takes a handful of McCree's serape and stuffs it in his mouth. You're annoyed with this behaviour, but Jesse ignores it.

"Well, now. I've been...diggin'."

"Digging? For what? That's fuckin' suspicious the way you worded that."

He looked offended, and exaggeratingly so.

"What?! I just got back, and you wanna spit all over my words?!"

You stared long and hard at him with a raised eyebrow.

"This isn't like you to hide things from me."

He exhaled.

"Fine. I was just tryin' to have some courtesy, but you pulled it outta me. Let me just say that for the record."

"Pulled what? ...Jesse?"

His eyes go dark.

"I was sent to find Angela," that has you reeling inwardly, but outwardly, you're waiting for him to continue, "And she told me everything. Well, her side of the story."

"I see."

Your eyes leave Jesse's face, and they unfocus. Your mind is running at a million miles an hour, trying to figure out exactly what she said, who else she might have told, and how you can keep it from being told to anyone else. If anyone else found out, they would heap pity on you, and it would be the most awkward thing. You wanted to be as far away from the whole issue as possible.

You clenched your jaw in annoyance, still far away in your own mind, because you remembered you did promise yourself you wouldn't run away from this. And who would take care of Genji if you did run?

"Shifter!"

"...What?"

"Didn't ya hear me? I said I wanted to hear your side of it."

You gave him a tired look. The prospect of explaining everything felt like McCree was asking you to balance a stack of twenty greased adult elephants. You were pretty sure it would fall apart, and you'd be crushed under the weight of it.

"I'm not sure I can."

"Would a drink help? I know just the place. C'mon. It has a pachimari machine. You can win one for little Genji, here."

...Who is currently still drooling, a growing wet stain blooming in Jesse's serape.

"We can't take a baby to a bar, Jesse."

"You've been forgettin' someone very important to him. He'd make the perfect babysitter. I can't imagine Genji pitchin' a fit in his presence."

"Huh?"

"Zenyatta."

"Oh sh-"

You had the urge to tear Genji from McCree's arms, find Zenyatta, and shove Genji into his face, yelling, "LOOK! HE'S SAFE WITH ME! I PROMISE!" McCree laughed at your face.

"Relax. He's about the most forgiving person I've ever known."

"I really dropped the ball on that one."

"He's got enough of those," he said, grinning, "He don't need no more."

"Go back on a mission, Jesse."