It wasn't exactly like they were friends. Colleagues yes, but friends? Nah. Genji was a friend. Fareeha as well. Maybe even Lena. And heck, he could actually ask both Lúcio and Hana if they wanted to go out for a beer or two and they'd have a great time together. Come to think of it, most of the members of Overwatch made for great company.

All, except for one Hanzo Shimada.

It wasn't that they didn't get along. They got along just fine. They made one hell of a team on the battlefield and Jesse was 100% sure Hanzo had saved his ass more than once. He respected Hanzo, and felt respected in return. But the other man was all silent and stoic (save for a few angry outbursts here and there), the complete opposite of Jesse himself. Hanzo never talked about himself or his past. He had mentioned Genji a few times and the Shimada Empire, but only with lament and somberness. During downtime at the watchpoint Jesse would usually spot him at the archery range which laid side by side with the gun range. Other than that he had no idea where Hanzo spent his spare time. He had seen him with Genji once or twice in the hallway of their HQ, but never with anyone else. In conclusion; the man was an enigma and he wanted to be left alone.
That was precisely why Jesse had been more than a little bit surprised when Hanzo had suggested they go out for some chow mein and sake after their long ass two man mission in Lijiang. The clock was nearing 01:00 in the morning and Jesse was more than ready to hit the sack, but he just couldn't say no to this close to mythical proposal he was presented with. So he excused himself to his room, splashed some cold water in his face to wake up and went with Hanzo to a nice and cosy little food place.
They had eaten in silence. Jesse had for once found that comfortable, just something about the particular ambience of it all. The sake they had after was warm with a mild taste, and Jesse felt his shoulders gradually relax as warmth settled pleasantly in his stomach. He lit his cigar and leaned back in his chair, listening to the gentle drizzle of the rain outside. He was about to say something unimportant, something about the mission just to make casual conversation when Hanzo spoke first.

"I have troubles sleeping."

Jesse actually held his breath. Hanzo had started a conversation. He felt silly for thinking so, but he really didn't want to mess this up so he said nothing, just waited with bated breath.
Hanzo's face was unreadable and as the seconds ticked by, Jesse felt a stone drop in his stomach. He must have made the wrong choice by shutting up, he should have said something, he should have-

"McCree-san, do you ever see the faces of those you have killed in your dreams?"

Jesse froze as Hanzo turned to look at him, expression calm and dark eyes soft. The moment felt oh so important, Hanzo had opened up about something about himself and truth to be told, Jesse did know what it felt like having past murders come back to haunt you. He took a long drag from his cigar, letting the smoke seep slowly out of the corner of his mouth.

"Yeah, I do." he drawls. Another drag from his cigar, Hanzo is watching him with rapt attention.

"Deadlock was not a kind place, obviously, the things I've done I-" he surprises himself with actually stalling. Deadlock was a lifetime ago, yet some things are as fresh as if they were only days old. He sighs.

"They say time dulls your memories, your feelings, but truth is they rarely do with things like these. Either that or we're just hella special."

He takes a sip from his sakazuki, lowkey watching Hanzo from underneath lowered lids. The archer is gazing into his own sake, as if it holds the answers to his thoughts. His brows crease and he looks like he's suddenly in deep contemplation.

"I can't brag of having a 100% working solution for you-" Jesse adds almost like an afterthought.

"-you're going to have sleepless nights and you're going to struggle with a whole spectrum of difficult emotions but-"

"-know that you're not alone."

Jesse swears he can see a look of shock pass over Hanzo's features, but it's gone just as fast as it came and he coughs politely.

"Dang, I'm sorry. I guess I talk too much. Jus' want you to know you can depend on me- on us all- as a team. There's no shame in that."

Hanzo gives him a weak nod but doesn't otherwise reply. Silence stretches on between them again as they finish their first cups of sake at a leisurely pace. Jesse pours them another one, and they clink their cups gently together, Jesse offering Hanzo a toothy grin. Two cups turn to three, then four, then five, soon they have gone through two and a half bottles between them and while alcohol does make McCree even more chatty, Hanzo doesn't seem to mind at all. His posture is more relaxed and his face is not set in the usual stern lines. His chin is propped up on his hand and he watches McCree as the gunslinger animatedly talks.

"-and then Reinhardt tells Lúcio to listen to the classics, like Hasselhoff! That is music, that was on top of the charts, 30 years before Reinhardt himself was born. The guy is sixty-something! Lúcio of course, along with Hana, scrounges his nose up something fierce and shouts 'aaaw hell naw man!'. I tell you it's the funniest shit watching that age gap group bicker!"

It's not that it was that funny in Hanzo's ears, but the alcohol and the way McCree animatedly retells the story, and tries to ape after Lúcio's voice and manner of speech that makes it funny. He can't help the hearty laughter that escapes his lips. It feels a little foreign, cause he hasn't truly and honestly laughed in a long while. He swirls his sakazuki gently, chuckling softly as McCree goes silent beside him. The gunslinger's cheeks are painted with red and he is giving him a weird look. The corners of Hanzo's lips tug upwards.

"What?" he questions with mild surprise, not really aware of how his own cheeks are dusted with pink. McCree must be drunk out of his mind by now. The question seems to finally sink in after a few long seconds and McCree coughs, his hat obscuring his eyes as he turns slightly away.

"Aah it's nothing. Jeez, I am getting mighty tired. I was ready for bed the moment we came back to be honest. But this has been really great though!" he rambles, finally looking at Hanzo again, the weird look in his eyes still lingering faintly.

"Yes, I suspected as much. We do have a long flight ahead of us tomorrow, some rest would do us good."

They pay for their food and sake, before stopping instantaneously by the door. The gentle drizzle from earlier is now full blown rain and Hanzo grimaces before uttering a low 'fuck'.
There's no conveniently open stores in sight and no one has accidentally left their umbrella in the restaurant either. McCree laughs quietly beside him and earns himself a questioning glance. Grinning, the cowboy pulls off his serape and holds it over his head while extending a part of it to Hanzo.

"Better than nothing!" he shrugs smiling.

Hanzo almost refuses to take it. Two grown men running together through the streets underneath a shared piece of cloth would look nothing short of ridiculous. But it is in the middle of the night, it is raining and they are kinda drunk. He reluctantly takes the end piece McCree is offering him and with the exchange of quick nods they run. In a far corner in the back of his mind, Hanzo thinks it's actually kinda nice even if it's also totally ridiculous.
The hotel isn't that far, but it's far enough for them to inevitably get wet, courtesy of McCree's serape becoming heavy with rainwater.

"Well damn." is all the gunslinger can say when they finally reach their rooms after trying to dodge the night clerk's sour glare following them as McCree's serape drips water steadily all over the floors.

"Can't believe we did that." Hanzo laughs softly, shaking his head causing small droplets of water to fly out from his disheveled hair. He pulls the silk cloth holding his hair up loose, letting it all fall down before running a hand through it. McCree is looking weirdly at him again and he pauses.

"Thank you for your company tonight. It was most appreciated." he says honestly.

"...No worries, partner. Uhm, you have a good night." McCree rumbles, a small smile gracing his lips. Hanzo nods at him in return before disappearing into his room.

Boots clatter softly to the floor, a hat is tossed haphazardly on a bed, clothes are draped over a chair, a table, any hangable surface to dry before finally a serape is thrown over the shower curtain bars.
Jesse takes a second to revel in the warmth seeping into his bones before he washes up quickly and throws himself on his bed, hair still wet. The sleepiness tugging on his mind from earlier is gone and he lays on his back, staring holes in the ceiling as the evening with Hanzo replays in his mind.
The image and accompanying sound of Hanzo laughing, his cheeks flushed pink and demeanor so relaxed, plays over and over, and over. When he has finally willed it away and thinks he is going to get some sleep, it only gets replaced with the too pretty for words picture of Hanzo yanking his hair tie loose and letting all that inky darkness spill down over his shoulders, one hand dragging through it, maybe one day that hand could be his-

"Fuck…" Jesse utters softly, rubbing at his own face as the realization settles in.

Hanzo Shimada is actually a very, very gorgeous man.

What now?