#fiwyc

[familyiswhoyouchoose]

Hayao, wearing Jesse’s hat: Dad, look! I’m Pa! Howdy, howdy, howdy!

Jesse: I do not say howdy all the time.

Hanzo: No, but you have to admit he looks adorable.

Jesse: ..Damn you’re right.

[familyiswhoyouchoose]

Hanzo Shimada: Don’t speak to me (points to himself) my sons (points to Shingen and Hayao) or my husband (points to McCree) ever again.

[familyiswhoyouchoose]

Nap (FIWYC)

Hanzo: (lying on his stomach, hair loose and snoozing)

Genji: (whispering) “Angela, come here.”

Angela: “Genji, Wh—“

Genji: (points)

Angela: “...Oh..”

Jesse sleeps on his side, the kids tucked between him and Hanzo, his serape laid over all of them.

Genji: “I’m taking a picture.”

Angela: “Genji, no.” (smiles) “Let Athena.”

(BONUS)

Hanzo: (checking his comm later, sees a new message from Athena and the picture) !! “...GENJI!”

Tsubaki: (hears his yell and blinks) “...Dad, I think Uncle Hanzo is mad at you.”

Genji: (wheeze laughing)

Angela: “Eat your dinner, Tsubaki. Your father should get to running.”

Tsubaki: “Okay mom.”

[familyiswhoyouchoose]

Jesse McCree: Y’know, somedays y’just got to ask yourself. What the hell am I willing to put up with today? And then you take your two adopted kids and get the fuck out of here.

Hanzo Shimada: ..Did you just claim my children as yours?

Jesse McCree: Keep up, Hanzo.

[familyiswhoyouchoose]

Cake (FIWYC)

Genji: Brother, seriously. Why did you buy seven cakes?

Hanzo: Well..

Shingen: Hey, dad’s back with the cake. (takes two from the top) Thanks dad! 

Hanzo: You’re welcome, what were you saying, Genji?

Genji: Okay, but you still have fi-

Hayao: Cake! (bounces up and down by Hanzo)

Hanzo: Dinner first. (eyebrow raises at him)

Hayao: Dinner first. (nods, holds out his hands)

Hanzo: (hands him two boxes)

Genji: ...Three.

Jesse: Oh hey, you’re back. (kisses Hanzo’s cheek, taking one) Reinhardt’s cooking, so try not to take too long, kay?

Hanzo: Of course. (looks at Genji)

Genji: ... (looks at Hanzo)

Hanzo: One for now.. (holds up one box, giggles snorts and holds up the other) One for later.

Genji: Your children are just as bad as you with sweets. 

Hanzo: (laughs)

[familyiswhoyouchoose]

You Matter (FIWYC)

It is moments like this that make Jesse despise the depths of his own mind. Wrapped in Hanzo’s embrace, with the smell of sandalwood and vanilla to comfort him, it should have been impossible for his mind to fester some sort of negativity from this, right? How hopelessly wrong could he have been. Letting his eyes crack open, he stares aimlessly into the long shadows cast from the hall’s dim lighting and a few details decide to make themselves painfully known.

Hanzo is wearing his pajamas, it is still early in the morning, there are two small children in the vicinity, and this is not his room. Stiffening in Hanzo’s grasp, Jesse almost hates how quickly the archer adapts by loosening his hold. Despite being down one arm and a less than sound mind, Jesse could’ve easily broken out of Hanzo’s hold but his traitorous mind and body didn’t want to budge. Instead, he did the one thing that he knew how.

Talk his way out of a situation.

“Look at me, blubberin’ like a baby,” Jesse huffed, resting his chin on Hanzo’s shoulder. “Don’t you go tellin’ anyone about this, Han.”

Hanzo rolled his eyes and pulled one of his arms back, pinching Jesse’s cheek and giving it a light tug. “As attractive as your combat skills and rugged charm may be, it is also comforting that you feel the need to cry like any other being,” Releasing Jesse’s cheek, Hanzo shifted in Jesse’s hold and held his face in his hands, a soft smile tugging at his lips when taking in the sight of Jesse’s wide eyes. “And it is humbling that you feel safe enough to show your vulnerability to me. Your trust is not to be taken lightly.”

“Shoot darlin’, it ain’t nothin’ that special’,” Jesse mumbled, breath catching when Hanzo’s thumb wipes away a stray tear. “Just cryin’.”

“To you, perhaps,” Hanzo traces Jesse’s cheekbones with nimble fingers, letting them trail up and disappear into dark brown strands of hair, brushing it behind Jesse’s ears as Hanzo leaned closer to press their foreheads together. “Tell me what troubles your spirit, Jesse.”

Although it is fairly dark and Jesse can barely see the finer details of Hanzo’s face, he has them memorized to a T. The curve of his eyelashes, the faint scar on his chin and the other along his eyebrow, the quirk of his lip when he smiled, shape of his nose, the shades of brown in his eyes — wait, what was he doing? Squeezing his eyes sight, Jesse huffed through his nose and tried to keep his mind clear but he could hear Hanzo’s breaths. Even, soft, in for five counts, out for five, then repeat. It took him a second to notice that he was following along with his own breathing. A slight haze overtaking the panic that spurred the tears to his eyes in the first place.

Swallowing down a bitter laugh, Jesse had to wonder when Hanzo began to have this sort of effect on him. For someone who was so dangerous and imposing, he could calm him down within minutes. It was a feat to behold and some part of Jesse wanted to be annoyed but it was outnumbered by the fondness. Giving in to Hanzo’s hold, their noses brushed together, Hanzo’s fingers combing through his Jesse’s hair lightly scratching at his scalp.

“I should be askin’ you that,” Jesse mumbled, trying to pinpoint the words through the haze. “How long were you waitin’...”

“For you to knock?” Hanzo interrupted with a thoughtful hum then a casual shrug. “Not long. They alerted me to your presence.”

Jesse scoffed, letting his eyes slip shut. “So much for the element of surprise.”

“No, you still maintained it,” Hanzo reassured, although there was a slight tease to his tone that made Jesse happy he couldn’t see his grin in this lighting.

“Didn’ you sic your… dragons after me though?”

“Not exactly. As I’ve told you before, I do not control them.”

With Hanzo’s fingers in his hair and his warmth encasing him, it was hard to find the will to string a sentence together. Everything was comfortable and soft. Jesse was almost certain that if his knees gave out right then and there, Hanzo wouldn’t have any trouble keeping him upright.

“Just suggestions,” Jesse mumbled, drawing light circles on Hanzo’s hip.

“Only suggestions,” Hanzo replied, his breath warm against Jesse’s face, a smile in his voice. “I am but a man, Jesse.”

Jesse huffed, cracking open his eyes. “More like an angel.”

He’d seen Hanzo on the battlefield. The man fought like a god, but he was right in a way, he bled like a man. If anything, Hanzo was some cross between a deity and a human. If he read that one manga of Genji’s right, something like a demihuman? Neither of them really explained or cared to clarify on what exactly the Dragons were. Just gave shrugs and vague explanations, hell, who knew -- they might be dragons in disguise.

Would explain how Hanzo was so goddamn handsome.

“Ridiculous,” Hanzo mumbles, drawing Jesse away from his thoughts, the cowboy grinning lazily despite the archer’s inability to see it.

“There’s my Hanny.”

Jesse could almost picture the way Hanzo’s eyebrows furrowed, the creases in his forehead, the roll of his eyes, and the smile he tried to fight down.

“Also ridiculous.”

Nose to nose with Hanzo, Jesse chuckled. “Honey, then?”

“And the food pet names make a devastating return,” Hanzo sighs, feigning annoyance with a heavy sigh. “How predictable.” “But not unwarranted, right?” Jesse asks, trying to keep the hopeful edge from his tone, but the slight itch is hard not to scratch. “If ya ain’t like ‘em, you would say so.”

Hanzo pauses for a second and Jesse fears that he’s taken a misstep. Ready to back pedal and undo what his big mouth got him into, it doesn’t register to him that he’s breathing the same air as Hanzo until their lips press together. For a man with calloused hands and scarred skin, Hanzo’s lips were soft. Warm. Inviting. And Jesse was drawn in everytime. Returning the kiss with a light press of his own, relaxing into Hanzo’s hold, the hand caressing the back of his head traveling to cradle the back of his neck. Chasing after Hanzo as he pulled away wasn’t something he was ashamed of. Pressing his lips to the corner of the archer’s lips, pressing a soft kiss here and there just to feel him smile wilder when their lips met again only to break away, foreheads touching.

“Well, aren’t you bein’ kind?” Jesse whispered breathlessly, feeling like he’s walking on air rather than lower than dirt.

And without knowing how much he’s blessed him, Hanzo says nonchalantly, “Am I?”

The hand cradling the back of his neck slips into his hair, lightly scratching at his scalp and the haze lifts enough for Jesse to realize part of what this is. Groaning softly, he slips away to bury his face in Hanzo’s shoulder.

“Can we talk about it another time?” He asks, though the words are muffled, he angles his head to free his mouth. “Please?”

Hanzo is quiet for a stretch of time that may have only been seconds but felt like hours to Jesse. Then with a light squeeze and a light brush of the lips against the crown of his head, Hanzo nodded.

“If that is what you wish,” he says, slipping from Jesse’s hold though keeping a firm grasp on the gunslinger’s remaining hand. “Come.”

Jesse blinked rapidly, shaking his head. “C-Come again?”

“You may stay,” Hanzo said slowly. “Is that not why you came?”

“Darlin’, it’s late and I don’t wanna—”

A finger pressed to his lips effectively silencing him and his shoulders drew back as he felt the air near his ears crackle and pop. The air had the faint smell of something he couldn’t put his finger on. Like the air after a rain shower or a lightning storm, and he could swear that he heard the faintest of rumbling thunder.  Hanzo’s hand clasped around his wrist and Jesse startled, tensing up before relaxing as the archer’s hand trailed from his wrist to his fingers, lacing them together.

“Jesse,” he says, his voice calm and even, like the eye of a storm. “You are home.”

The phrase sinks in just as it always does. However this time, it feels like the meaning is different. Jesse squeezes Hanzo’s fingers and takes a tentative step forward before remembering his manners. Slipping his shoes off despite the slight difficulty with his heel catching. The spurs clink and rattle against one another as his boots clatter to the floor, socked feet falling in step with Hanzo’s as the archer practically drags him along. Well, practically might not have been the word for it.

It wasn’t as if Jesse was complaining after all. He just felt a mite helpless. Warm, fuzzy, safe. Like a kid who had a bad dream and needed a place to calm down. As they pass by a door, the thought sobers Jesse up and he slows down to a stop, Hanzo glancing at him over his shoulder. Being in Hanzo’s place enough times, Jesse knows exactly who is behind the door they passed and despite his age and such — he was still a gentleman after all.

“Sure the tykes won’t mind?” He asked in a low whisper, sparing a glance towards the door.

Hanzo must’ve caught his meaning because he huffed, and Jesse could imagine him rolling his eyes. “If my sons did not approve of you, we would not be here right now.”

“Ouch,” Jesse feigned a slight stumble. “Got me right there in the heart, darlin’.”

Hanzo huffed through his nose, a soft chuckle escaping him. “My life is also theirs, I am their father afterall.” “Mighty good one at that,” Jesse mumbled, lifting their joined fingers to his lips, pressing a kiss to Hanzo’s knuckles. “Not bringin’ around anybody they ain’t gonna agree with.”

“It would be in poor taste,” Hanzo hummed, lowering their hands once Jesse was done. “Thankfully, you meet both their standards and mine.”

“And what might those be?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?

Jesse snorted. Typical Hanzo, typical asshole answer. “That’s why I”m askin’.”

“And I am not telling,” Hanzo shot back, and Jesse decided to concede the point lest they get loud enough to wake the kids.

“Mind if I check in on ‘em?”

Hanzo didn’t say anything but the door to the room creaked open and Jesse peeked inside. A faint silver light chased away the long shadows, dimly illuminating the room and the two children bundled up on the bed pressed to the furthest corner of the room.

“They always sleep like that?” Jesse whispered, making room so that Hanzo could peer in as well. From his peripherals, Jesse could make out Hanzo’s smile and the warm look in his eye.

“Mm, ever since Shingen was four,” the archer explained, glancing up at Jesse who quickly looked away. “It is comforting to Hayao.”

“I bet,” Jesse chuckled. “If I had someone like Shingen watchin’ my back, I’d sleep like a baby every night. No wonder I sleep well next to you.”

Hanzo stands rigid at his side, the curve of his smile dipping into a frown, a steely gaze locked onto something that Jesse cannot see. Retracing the words in his mind, Jesse curses. “Aw damn, tripped an emotional landmine, didn’ I?” He asks, chest tightening when Hanzo doesn’t react. “What’s on your mind?”

It takes a second but feels like forever until Hanzo looks at him, eyebrow cocked, amusement in his eyes.

“You came with your woes under lock and key, but mine are free game?”

The joke aside, Jesse’s eyebrows furrowed and he scowled. Two could play at that game although the thunderous voices in his head seemed to be laughing which meant there were four players but Jesse McCree was never to be beaten or taken lightly.

“Han…”  Jesse warned, staring hard.

“Jess,” Hanzo replied, staring harder.

Jesse groans after awhile, throwing up his hand. “Alright, alright, yeah, I might’ve earned that.”

Hanzo huffs, taking his hand and pulling him along, though stopping to ease the boys’ door shut. “Come, let’s go to bed.”

“Might want to watch that phrasing,” Jesse teased, sidling up beside Hanzo with a smile.

“I know what I said, cowboy,” Hanzo says dryly, though he squeezes Jesse’s hand for good measure.

Upon entering the room and shutting the door, Hanzo sits down on the left side of the bed and starts to unlatch his prosthetics while Jesse hovers restlessly by the door. It’s only after the archer has his legs leant against the wall that he looks up and raises a brow.

“Are you waiting for an invitation?” He asks wryly, patting the bed spread beside him.

“Nah, I’m just uh… I wanted to uh… ask ya for somethin’,” Jesse grumbled, sitting on the edge of the bed, though he inched his way closer to Hanzo when the other man motioned him closer with a beckoning hand.

“And what would that be?”

“Why?”

Hanzo says nothing and Jesse swallows, waiting for hte answer to come, whatever it may be. And when it does, the archer succeeds in knocking the wind out of him again.

“You matter.”

Jesse’s throat bobs and he can feel his eyes stinging. Pressing the heel of his hand to them, he chokes out a laugh and nods, swiftly undoing the straps for his prosthetic and laying them on top of a nearby dresser. Taking off his serape and draping it across, his belt and buckle following after. Fist clenched at his side, he walks slowly but surely to the other side of the bed, wiggling out of his pants and leaving them in a heap on the floor along with his shirt. Though he has more trouble getting out of his shirt because of his blurred vision and hurriedness than anything else. Hanzo’s hands are much steadier than his own, helping him slip it up and over his head before coming to rest around his abdomen, easing him back against the archer’s chest, warm lips pressed to the juncture of his neck and shoulder.

“You matter,” Hanzo repeated.

He presses a kiss there, then another against Jesse’s shoulder, repeating the words again and again, holding Jesse as the cowboy slowly unravels.

“You are wonderful.”

Another kiss to the back of his neck.

“You try so hard and you do so well.”

Another to the back of his head.

“You are—” Hanzo is cut off in mid-sentence as Jesse spins around in his grasp, hugging him close with a shuddering sob. The two practically fall over, pillowed by the mattress and the pillows, but Jesse shakes nonetheless as if he’s wracked with pain. His face buried in Hanzo’s hair while the archer rubs and pats his back, whispering soft assurements in every language he knows that Jesse is acquainted with.

“You matter, Jesse,” Hanzo whispers, holding Jesse close even as the exhaustion steals his consciousness. “...You matter.”

--------- --------- --------- --------- --------- ---------

Morning comes all too quickly with the sound of the door creaking open, and little feet rushing across the floor. Though before a dive bomb can be executed in full childish fashion, Hayao stops in mid-stride, taking in the sight of his Uncle Jesse sleeping curled up beneath his father’s arm. Tilting his head to the side, Hayao blinks a few times and slowly makes his way out of the room, only to return a few minutes later iwth a silver-white dragon plush. He eases it onto the bed, tucking it beneath his Uncle Jesse’s arm then beating a hasty retreat, slowly shutting the door after.

Hanzo cracks open an eye, glancing towards the door then Jesse’s sleeping form before laying down with a soft sigh, pressing another kiss to the cowboy’s shoulder.

He will be fine, Shimada Hanzo. You must rest. The day is soon to begin.

The thunderous voices of the dragons echoed in his ears and Hanzo could only hope that they were right. And even then, he would always be there to remind Jesse that he mattered.

Even if it took every day for the rest of his life.

[familyiswhoyouchoose]

Dads (FIWYC)

Doomfist: If Shingen continues with his unseemly behavior, he could find himself in trouble later on.

McCree: You even think about touching a hair on my son’s head, I’ll blow yours off.

Doomfist: Your son? Is that a threat?

Hanzo: Our son. And no, it is a guarantee.

[familyiswhoyouchoose]

Hug (FIWYC)

Hayao: (tapping Jesse’s arm)

Jesse: (halts in mid conversation, bends down and scoops him up, adjusting him slightly) Comfy?

Hayao: (nods, hugging him around his neck)

Jesse: Alright. (Kisses the side of his head, goes back to talking)

——

Shingen: (arms crossed, scowling at the wall of the medbay)

Jesse: (comes through the door)

Angela: (sighs) Jesse, I’m glad you’re here. Shingen needed at least four stitches because of the wound he sustained. I believe we should keep a closer eye on his training habits.

Jesse: Yeah.. lemme talk to the kid right fast.

Angela: Very well.

Jesse: (walks over, taking off his hat) Mind if I sit with you?

Shingen: (looks away)

Jesse: (plops down beside him)

Shingen: “...”

Jesse: “You really gave your dad and I a scare, kiddo.”

Shingen: “I’m fine.” (scowls)

Jesse: “I know but your dad and I, we still care about you. Look, I know you can fight and got ninja kid skills but you’re still our kid. And we love you.”

Shingen: “...” (unfolds his arms, slowly leans against Jesse) “I love you too.”

Jesse: (wraps his arms around him, hugs him close)

——————/————————

Hanzo: (wakes up, panting and shaking)

Jesse: (curls up to his back, hugging and humming)

Hanzo: (peeks over his shoulder then yawns, listening to his breathing before he nods off)

[familyiswhoyouchoose]

Don’t Think Twice (FIWYC)

McCree: (staring at his engagement ring, twisting and turning it between his fingers, a wide smile on his face)

Hanzo: (laying beside McCree, watching him with a lazy smile) ...Jesse?

McCree: Yes mi amor? (grins at him)

Hanzo: Wow, you are in a very good mood. (eyebrow raise) And what is the occasion? 

McCree: (snorts) Well, if you must know, I just got married.

Hanzo: (gasps) No!

McCree: Yes, I just got married to one of the most amazing men in the world, and that’s not all. 

Hanzo: What else could their be? (feigns shock)

McCree: (makes a show of looking around, leans close and whispers) I’m a dad now.

Hanzo: (hand to his chest, gasps) What?!

McCree: Yep, I’m a married man and a father of two.

Hanzo: Well then, I would like to inform you of something as well.

McCree: And what’s that? (eyebrow raise, smirking)

Hanzo: I was just married to one of the most amazing men in the world as well.. (kisses his cheek) Jesse Shimada-McCree.

McCree: Han... (buries his face in his pillow, groaning) Why are you like this?

Hanzo: (chuckles, pulling him into a hug) I am sorry, anata.

McCree: Never gotta apologize for this, Han. I’m just as happy as you.

[familyiswhoyouchoose]

Did You Know? (FIWYC)

Afterglows were meant to be basked in and Jesse wanted nothing more than to nod off in the arms of the man he loved. However, the day’s events which led up to the spectacular night finale needed to be addressed and Hanzo gently shaking his shoulder meant no rest would be found right now.

“Jesse,” Hanzo shook his shoulder again, waiting until he finished groaning and shifting around to speak. “You do know what you’ve done, don’t you?”

Jesse took a minute to think. He and Hanzo did a lot, but the archer wasn’t complaining during. And apparently he was nowhere near close to figuring it out considering Hanzo rolling his eyes and sitting up.

“You told Hayao that you would be his father, correct?”

Jesse slowly nodded.

“And I am his father.”

Once again, Jesse nodded.

“Which means...”

A second passes. Then another. Seconds stretch into minutes and the pieces fall into the puzzle, Jesse’s eyes widening as he shoots up, nearly knocking his head against the wall.

“I-I mean uh...” He floundered for the words, mouth feeling dry. “I mean, you.. you don’t think that..”

Hanzo slowly nodded. “I do.”

“...But I- with me.. you wouldn’t wanna..”

Hanzo cocked a brow, looking down at their current state of dress then slowly raking his gaze up to meet Jesse’s eyes. Jesse swallowed thickly and blew out a short puff of air, running a hand through his hair.

“So me and you, huh? Y’know I’m still..”

“A wanted man, I’m aware.”

“And I might not be the best pare-”

“Jesse.”

Hanzo’s thumb and forefinger grasped his chin, tilting his head towards the archer so their eyes met. The glower Hanzo pinned him with softening at the look of fear and worry on Jesse’s face.

“You are perfect, you are enough, for them and for me. And if you would want to marry, all you have to do is say..”

“Yes,” Jesse interrupted.

Hanzo stared. Opened his mouth then shut it, then opened it again. “...Yes?”

“You and me, darlin’,” Jesse nodded, then mentally backtracked. “Nah, you, me, and the kids.”

A small smile formed on Hanzo’s lips and he chuckled. “Really?”

Jesse nodded, grinning wide. “Really.”

They pressed their foreheads together and sat basking in their own thoughts and ideas of how the future would go. That is until Jesse brought up the dreaded question.

“Who is gonna tell the kids?”

[familyiswhoyouchoose]

High Hopes (FIWYC)

Jesse looked down at the replacement for his prosthesis and sighed. Saying that the mission was a complete success would depend on who you asked. Though they retrieved the intel about a dealer pedaling stolen fusion cores, it led to a shootout and quite a few casualties. One in particular that left Jesse feeling a little less handy and a little more grouchy. Not only did his arm get mangled to all hell but it would take about a week for a replacement with the repairs for the damage done to Reinhardt’s suit added to the list. Brigitte and Torbjorn reassured him it wouldn’t take long but Jesse had a sneaking suspicion it was only because he looked less homely cowboy and more murderous gunslinger. Rolling his eyes heavenward, he made a mental note to apologize to Angela before trudging off in the direction of his quarters.

Head bowed and spurs quieted, his thoughts blanketed by everything on the mission that went wrong . Sure, they got what was necessary but all the mistakes. All of the moments where a split second decision could’ve made the difference between life or death. Everyone got back okay, giving him smiles or pats on the back or shoulder, reassuring words and fleeting glances — but there was this voice in his head that said: “What if they didn’t”?  He told himself that the tiny voice was what kept him alive all these years. A survival instinct developed form his Blackwatch days. 

Necessary.

Imperative.

And entirely negative.

“I need a drink,” he grumbled, punching in the pin code and stepping inside.

Once his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he took off his hat and laid it gently against the wall, dragging it across until he found the hook and placed it on brushing his fingers against the brim. Unbidden, his thoughts turned to Gabriel and Jesse could hear his laughter and remember the way Gabriel shoved the hat over Jesse’s eyes. The irrate teen he’d been tilting it back with a glare and a sharp tongue ready to volly insults at Gabriel until he saw the wide grin.

No malice. No anger. No resentment. No belittling. Just pure joy.

It caught him off guard then.

And he ached for it now.

Hand flying to his bicep, Jesse chuckled mirthlessly and stepped backward, swaying with the guilt and sorrow that threatened to wash over him and drown him if he allowed it.

“No time for that now,” he said aloud, tutting as he staggered to his bed, dropping down with a heavy grunt and a few ragged breaths. “No time for that.”

Feeling around on his bedside table, his fingers passing over his reading glasses, upside down shot glass, then the cool exterior of a bottle. Grabbing hold of its neck, he slowly sat up and set it between his thighs, unscrewing the top and putting it aside. A part of him told him this was pathetic. Why in hell was he drinking away his sorrows in a dark room at the ass crack of dawn when he could be somewhere else? In the arms of somebody who cared, with a listening ear, and a comforting smile. He traced the mouth of the bottle and lifted it to his lips, imagining the light amber-brown liquid trapped inside, but it did little in comparison to warm brown eyes.

Dark hair fanned against white pillows, open arms beckoning him closer without explanation, holding him tight as if he were something precious. Jesse lowered the bottle and gritted his teeth. It shouldn’t be like this. Jesse McCree didn’t need to be held when he had a bad day. It was life, suck it up and move on. But the traitorous voice in mind told him that he wanted to be held. It would have been so easy too. Get up, leave his room, make his way to Hanzo’s place, show up, make a joke or crack a smile, it didn’t matter either way — Hanzo could always see through him.

From one bullshitter to the other, Jesse presumed, giggling brokenly. His voice strangely loud in the silence and it made his heart ache at howalone he felt. Sure, he’d spent years on the run and could handle a bit of loneliness but going so long with human contact. People who actually gave a damn. It was hard to just snap back to old ways with nothing to spur it on. He held the bottle tight in his hand, enough that he could feel the dull pain from the glass pressing into his skin.

You’re being silly, Jesse McCree. A god damn fool.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to will the thoughts away but they only returned stronger every time. He was stuck. Stuck on the feeling of being a part of something that was much bigger than himself.

He was part of a family whether he liked it or not — and yes , he liked it and he hated it.

Why couldn’t he just wallow for a little bit? A man deserved his privacy!

But you are not just a man anymore.

Jesse stiffened up as the thunderous booming voice overtook his thoughts and chased everything else from his mind. Eyes blown wide, he looked around the dark expanse of his room, catching the faintest of light emanating from the wall above his bed. The light grew brighter and brighter as two dragons materialized from the wall, their translucent forms winding and twisting around one another as they floated lazily through the air. Much smaller than he’d seen them on the field but big enough that he knew what they were, and as they exited the wall and floated in the space above his head, their pupilless eyes turned towards him.

Despite their translucent forms, their eyes were reflective and he could see himself staring back with a slacked jaw and wide eyes. Snapping his jaw shut and setting the bottle aside, he swallowed hard and quirked a hesitant grin.

“Not every day I get to see you two,” he said cautiously, head cocked. “What’s the occasion?”

We are happy to see you have returned, Jesse McCree.

Breath hitching in his throat, Jesse tried to tell himself that his heart skipping a beat was from the voices booming in his head and not the admission. It wasn’t every day that otherworldly beings of destruction and unknown means of disaster capable of swallowing your enemies admitted that they missed you. His smile did widen and he shuffled backward, pressing his back to the wall as they floated closer, the light emitted from their bodies illuminating his remaining arm and most of his torso. While one of the dragons coiled around his arm, the other floated by the replacement and tilted its head to the side.

Jesse waited for the question to come but it never did. The other dragon coiled around his upper arm and laid its head against his shoulder. Sitting in the stillness and quiet, Jesse’s heart thumping wildly, he wondered what this could be. Did Hanzo send them? No, no. That couldn’t be it 

You are correct, Jesse McCree.

Jesse’s head snapped up and he looked into the dragon’s eyes. “Pardon?”

In a sense, you are correct. We were beckoned here at the behest of our master though by our own will.

The thunderous voice toned down slightly almost sounded bored .  Like a teacher who’d stated the same answer several times but their student was no closer to figuring it out. Jesse swallowed, trying not to get his hopes high but his heart fluttered despite his protests.

One of the dragons, the one with the shorter cracked horn wound around his arm, undid itself and floated up until it was eye to eye with him.

Our master cares for you. That is undeniable. But he does not control our will. We came on our own but at his behest.

“So you’re sayin’ Han was worried about me but you guys came to make sure I was doin’ alright,” McCree said slowly, looking between the spirits.

Yes.

“I gotcha, but I’m—”

Do not lie, Jesse McCree.

The volume raised again and Jesse was effectively silenced. A smile that threatened to fall into place quickly wiped away and he looked down, feeling more like a chastised child. While the grouchier side of him wanted to tell them both to shove off he wasn’t a fool. On one hand, they could kill him if they wanted to. And on the other, they were part of Hanzo. 

“...” He bit the inside of his cheek, shutting his eyes.

Your spirit is troubled. We can see it. To lie is futile. 

Of course, of course. How could he lie to a spirit that could speak in his head?

Jesse almost wanted to laugh if it weren’t for the piercing look the short-horned dragon pinned him with, reflective eyes boring into his own 

Pride is an emotion that we know well, and it will lead to ruin if left unchecked. Is that not what you told our master, Jesse McCree?

“...You…”

He remembered that time. On the roof, the stars dotting the sky, night wind’s chill making him wonder how this man could sit there with half his chest out and not even shudder. His eyes on the horizon while one hand held a gourd and the other rested on his knee. Without the children laughing and smiling at his side, his face was devoid of emotion and he was sitting on the edge. Jesse stalled the thoughts there.

“...You were listening even then. Why didn’t you..”

Why didn’t you help him?

We do not often meddle in the affairs of our master unless it is absolutely necessary.

“So this is necessary and that wasn’t?” Jesse snapped, and he knew he shouldn’t have when the short-horned dragon’s eyes narrowed at him.

Do not ask what is obvious, Jesse McCree. Our master was not in danger then and you know what we mean by that.

Once the words set in, Jesse’s lips pressed together in a thin line and he nodded. “Right, right, sorry…” he mumbled, trying to make sense of the strange mix of embarrassment and joy.   

We have expectations of you and you have yet to fall short of them. We do not believe you will. You are a capable man, Jesse McCree, far more than what you may believe.  

Startling, Jesse whispered softly, “Expectations…” 

In the absence of their mother, you have become a parental figure to our master’s young. You have helped to heal their wounds and bring them to a place of peace whether it was your intention or not. We may be presumptuous, but we believe that you will continue to do so. 

“I just did what anyone would’ve,” Jesse scoffed, but he knew that wasn’t true. Almost everyone on base was curious about those kids, even Genji. Sure, they were nice to them. Who could be mean to a kid that they’d never met before — but those kids were like an extension of Hanzo himself and though no one wanted to admit it. 

Nobody wanted to associate with Genji’s would-be murderer more than they already needed to. 

Tell us, Jesse McCree. What is it that causes you to doubt yourself? What is it that makes you wish for solitude when you yearn for comfort? 

Jesse closed his eyes and he could feel the tightness in his chest and for a second it was hard to breathe. There were many things he could tell them but he wondered what they already knew. Did they know about Gabriel? About Overwatch’s fallout? About the pain and anger he endured? How far did they look in his head? Did he even want them to look in his head?

The lack of breathing was dizzying and Jesse breathed in deeply through his nose then exhaled hard, feeling tired and worn and overwhelminglypresent .

“Why do I got the sneaking suspicion that you know why?” Jesse said miserably, sinking against the wall.

Humor us.

“It’s a long explanation, darlin’ and I…” He squeezed his eyes shut when his voice wavered, forcing the next few words out. “I can’t handle it tonight.”

Then we propose an accord.

His eyes cracked open. “Of what?”

We will waive the answers we seek if you seek what you truly desire.

His eyes flew open and he gaped, words caught in his throat. “Wh—”

You need not to tell us now, Jesse McCree. But we will not allow you to sink into despair. Your feelings, your being, are of great importance to more than yourself. 

“....Do ya..” Jesse swallowed thickly, glancing around his room, the darkness seeming less and less comforting  “Do ya mind walkin’ me there?”

For a moment, he wondered if they’d deny him that but the other dragon uncoiled from his arm and the other followed suit. Their bodies’ light growing brighter as they made a path from his bed to the doorway. 

Not at all.

Jesse stumbled to his feet, following after them. He didn’t need to be guided to Hanzo’s place. Hell, he spent most of his time there anyway. He knew the way like the back of his hand. But everytime his steps slowed or he chanced a glance over his shoulder, one of the dragons would brush against his side and another would butt against his his lower back spurring him to take another step forward. In what seemed like forever, he stood outside Hanzo’s door and the dragons gave him a cursory glance before phasing through it, leaving him alone in the hall with only one order. 

Knock. 

Jesse lifted his fist, hand hovering inches away from the door but he couldn’t take the next step. It was late. He should have just returned to his room and been done with it but he was tired of being alone. Knocking lightly, he stiffened up when the door slid open revealing Hanzo in all his glory. Hair down, a short-sleeved standard Overwatch t-shirt that barely seemed to fit his frame, and sweatpants. His arms folded across his chest, one eyebrow raised as he stared up at Jesse. 

All smooth thoughts and witty introductions left Jesse’s mind but his mouth continued on as if they were there.

“...H—” he started, pausing in mid-word, faltering before trying to start again. “I…”

No that was no good either. And even when Jesse lifted his hand to tip his hat, he failed to notice that he forgot it in his room. He felt like a wreck.

Perhaps Hanzo sensed it too.

“Genji told me that you’ve been to Japan, learned and studied our native tongue and customs. So... “

Unfolding his arms, Hanzo held them out with enough space that Jesse could’ve easily fit inbetween. Jesse’s chest tightened and his breath hitched.

 “Okaeri.”

Jesse knew that his expression must’ve been something bad as Hanzo faltered for a second, eyes wide and expression a touch concerned. Taking a deep ragged breath, Jesse lunged forward and buried his face in Hanzo’s neck,  wrapping his arm around the other man’s waist and squeezing tight. 

“...Tadaima,” he choked out, trying to stifle a shuddering sigh.

“It is alright, Jesse. You are home now.”

[familyiswhoyouchoose]

One Day (FIWYC)

Hayao: “Uncle Jesse?” (climbs up to sit beside McCree)

McCree: (glances at him, sets his data pad down) “Yeah, Hao?”

Hayao: “..Are you.. going to marry my dad?”

McCree: !! “uh.. well, we haven’t uh.. talked about it. Why?”

Hayao: “If you marry him, won’t you be my dad too?”

McCree: “Well.. yeah.”

Hayao: “Then could you please?”

McCree: “It ain’t that simple, darlin.”

Hayao: “Why not?”

Hanzo: “Yes, why not McCree?”

McCree: !! “Han?! We... uh..”

Hanzo: “Whenever you are ready, cowboy.”

[familyiswhoyouchoose]

Grandma (FIWYC)

Ana: (holding Mariam as she rocks her to sleep, humming softly)

Reinhardt: (holding two mugs of warm tea, smiling adoringly as he watches from the doorway)

Ana: She is so small. I am almost afraid that I’ll...

Reinhardt: Love her without question? Nothing to be afraid of, my dear.

Ana: That is not what I was going to say, Reinhardt. But.. very close nonetheless.

Reinhardt: (kisses the top of her head) You will do fine.

Ana: (leans against him) Yes, we will.

[familyiswhoyouchoose]

Clothes (FIWYC)

Hanzo prefers his sons to pick out their own clothing. It helps to establish their own identities and let them choose what they like and dislike on their bodies. So when his kids pick up certain fashion tidbits from a certain cowboy, he tries to grin and bear it.

It looks good on Jesse McCree, and cute on them away.

[familyiswhoyouchoose]

Dad and Pa (FIWYC)

Dad and Pa (FIWYC)

The reverberating twang of McCree’s guitar draws Hanzo closer as he worries with the paper held taut between his fingers. Without the impressionable eyes watching them, he allowed himself to lean against the doorway and watch as McCree fiddled with the pegs of his guitar. Testing the strings and mumbling curses when the sound didn’t meet his expectation. After a few trials and a few louder curses, Hanzo makes his presence known by clearing his throat. McCree glancing over his shoulder, a toothpick resting between his teeth, hands stilled on the neck of the instrument.

“Well,” a grin breaks out on his face, chasing away the shadows that darken his eyes, Hanzo’s heart skipping a beat at the sight. “Thought you’d be out for the day, Han. Decided to spend quality time with lil’ ol me?”

Casting his gaze heavenward, Hanzo sighed heavily with feigned exasperation. A ghost of a smile playing on his lips as he shoved McCree’s legs off the coffee table, settling in next to him on the couch. With the paper in one hand, and his other lying on McCree’s thigh, it wasn’t long before their fingers were laced together and his hand was held tight in McCree’s prosthetic one. Tilting his head back to rest on the couch back, Hanzo offered the paper wordlessly then shifted to lay his head on McCree’s shoulder.

Stroking the back of his lover’s knuckle with his thumb, Hanzo waited as McCree looked the page over.

“Well, I’ll be… Hayao drew this?”

Hanzo nodded with a soft hum. He couldn’t help the pride and joy bubbling in his chest as McCree smiled fondly at the picture.

“He made it specifically for you.”

“I’m honored, really… I—“

McCree’s voice hitched and Hanzo squeezed his hand tighter, knowing he saw what was drawn.

“Did he..”

Hanzo’s eyes cracked open and he leaned away, trying to gauge McCree’s reaction. Wide-eyed, mouth slightly agape, toothpick dangling precariously from his lips — words dying everytime he tried to speak, Hanzo smiled. The drawing on the page of two men, one with a golden hair ribbon while the other is a man with a brown hat and a red blanket wrapped around his shoulders. Their hands joined together, big smiles on their faces while overhead read “Dad and Pa” respectively.

“He thinks I’m his pa..” McCree whispered, a slight waver to his voice that worried Hanzo.

“If you do not agree, I can talk to h—“

“No!” McCree blurred out and Hanzo’s eyes widened, blinking slowly as the cowboy balked and seemed to remember himself. “I mean.. no, uh.. I just.. wow.”

Sagging into the couch, McCree was unable to look away from the drawing. “I never thought of myself as anybody’s pa,” he muttered.

Hanzo sighed, leaning against him . “If it helps, I was not sure how to be a father either… at first..”

McCree chuckled and pressed a kiss to the top of Hanzo’s head, nuzzling close. “Well, you’ll just have to help me, huh?”

“As much as I can, my love.”

[familyiswhoyouchoose]

Cold (FIWYC)

McCree hated the cold.

While he was a veritable furnace, and usually kept warm by the thermal padding in his body armor and his serape, he hated the cold.

So how on Earth did he fall in love with a man who loved the cold?

Hanzo thrived in the cold. When it rained, he enjoyed standing outside until he was drenched and freezing, coming inside with a smile that stopped any reprimand McCree might’ve had. But the worst offense was at night.

While Hanzo didn’t wear his prosthetics at night, he insisted on sleeping with the room at sub zero. It was madness. McCree had to bundle up in multiple blankets and quilts while Hanzo slept with his shirt slightly rucked up, hair down, and face slack soft with sleep.

Though it wasn’t all bad. Some mornings, he’d wake up feeling the room’s chill, peeking over his shoulder and the sight would steal his breath away. Hanzo’s cheek pressed against the pillow, looking much younger without a scowl or furrow of the brow, dark hair fanned across the pillow, locks of it obscuring his face, and he was just breathing.

Asleep but breathing.

And beautiful.

The first few morning rays backlighting him as he woke, blinking dazedly up at McCree, the slowest of smiles forming.

“You look cold Jesse,” he’d tease, voice scratchy from disuse.

“...Ain’t nothin’, darlin.”