It must have been because of the influence of the alcohol.
A cloudy mind is easily amused and thoughts can derail to places they usually don't go sober. Nevermind Jesse actually having a thing for killer smiles and genuine laughter. The sake was to blame here, or at least that is what Jesse keeps telling himself as he lays in bed, glaring at the clock shining its offensive red numbers in his face. The sake could 100% be blamed for the dull throbbing in the back of his head though.
They had thankfully been allowed to sleep in. Timezones working in their favour for once. Lena wasn't due for an hour and a half still to pick them up, but if they wanted breakfast before their long ass trip back to the watchpoint they'd better get a move on. He slips back into his dried clothes from yesterday and opts for a quick brushing of his teeth and trimming of his beard with the complementary toiletries in the bathroom.
He combs his fingers through his hair (why weren't there any proper combs there?) and perches his hat on top, ignoring the peculiar feeling of uncertainty lightly tripping at the edges of his mind.
He goes through his mental checklist, throws his travel bag over his shoulder and brushes his hand lightly over Peacekeeper as an assurance she's still there. All good. Right, time to go find Hanzo and ask him if he wants to get breakfast. In a non-suspicious, totally friendly way. Nothing has changed, everything's the same. They just possess a few more facts about each other than before. All normal.
Jesse fastens his boots and opens the door, only to be greeted with Hanzo himself standing there, poised to knock, carrying two paper bags with fancy Chinese writing on them. Jesse's aware he's staring, but luckily he's a quick thinker and gathers his wits before it becomes too awkward.
"Oh hey, you're already up? Was thinkin' to go get you and ask if you wanted something to eat before Tracer picks us up?" Smooth.
"Yes. I have been up for two hours already. I found a nice spot for my morning meditation and then I thought I'd bring you breakfast-"
"-as a thank you, for listening to my troubles last night." The last part is added hastily and Hanzo hopes McCree doesn't notice his slight delay. The cowboy gives no indication of having picked up on it and he mentally sighs. It is only honorable to repay someone for their time after all.
"That's mighty nice of you!" McCree beams, giving him that friendly grin, topped with squinty eyes. Hanzo's stomach does a weird flip that he petulantly ignores. "So you wanna uh, eat inside or..?"
"There's a really nice garden area with benches outside if you want to join me? The rain from last night has let up so…"
"Sure thing. Show the way, darlin'!"
The garden area is really nice. A little, green lung in an otherwise urban and bustling city. There's Dove Trees encompassing the area, colourful flowers and various shrubs, and a fountain set roughly in the middle. They seat themselves at one of the tabled benches there and Jesse takes a moment to just close his eyes and breathe. This is really nice. Clean air, warm sunlight, and the food Hanzo has begun unpacking for them smells really good!
There's tea, of course there is tea. Jesse recognizes the smell of Jasmine tea any day. He spots something that looks like porridge, congee was it? Steamed buns (with pork filling Hanzo informs him), egg pancakes and tofu pudding with ginger and syrup. "Somebody's got a sweet tooth!" Jesse teases lightly, and is in no way prepared for the shy smile and low "Shut up." Hanzo throws back at him. If the sunlight hadn't warmed him up enough already, that surely did the trick.
They eat in companionable silence, occasionally throwing some crumbs to a few birds scampering nearby.
"That is a Fork-Tailed Sunbird." Hanzo says and points at a tiny bird with metallic-blue head and crimson breast. The bird chirps loudly, apparently very pleased with their offerings. Jesse smiles. A nifty little tidbit.
Their breakfast feels endless and too short at the same time. The sun has risen even higher in the sky in the mere hour they've been sitting there and Jesse is thankful he stuffed his serape into his travel bag instead of wearing it. Looks like the people of Lijiang is in for a rather hot day. He unbuttons the three topmost buttons of his shirt before reluctantly finishing his tea and the last of his tofu pudding. He could go for something cold right about now. Preferably a beer. Hanzo looks cool and composed as usual as he collects their trash and throws it into a nearby bin. Too bad he didn't look seconds earlier, or then he would have caught a mildly flustered archer scurrying to occupy himself with anything else but staring at him.
"Tracer should be here any minute, I'll need to go get my things." Hanzo informs him and leaves with a nod. Jesse kicks back and lights a cigar, only to look guiltily around for a non-smoking sign seconds after. Not seeing any signs (or people for that matter), he leans back and blows lazy wisps of smoke towards the sky.
"Damnit, Hanzo, get your shit together." Hanzo leans against the sink in his room, scowling weakly at his reflection. Droplets of cold water still lingers on his face and he rubs them away with his hand. Frustration bubbles in the pit of his stomach. Was he a teenager again? No he wasn't. So why was he getting so flustered watching his work colleague open up a few buttons on his shirt!? His colleague whom he had been having a very neutral relationship with up until last evening. It had been nice, opening up to someone like that. He had been very reluctant with letting anyone get close to him since he joined Overwatch. Always keeping a respectably sized personal bubble and interacting minimally with the other members. But loneliness took its toll, and he couldn't rely solely on Genji for company for the rest of his life. But he wasn't so starved for attention he'd get this worked up over perfectly normal interaction with someone, was he?
He pinches the bridge of his nose as old memories and traces of forgotten shame bubbles to the surface. Who was he kidding? Jesse McCree was a very attractive man, and not only that, he was smart and witty and reliable. All things Hanzo already knew way before their first proper interaction. Maybe it had been a mistake, trying to socialize, especially with someone he secretly admired. Kids these days called it a 'crush'. Hanzo was 38, he was way too old for having a 'crush' on someone.
He steels himself and breathes slowly, focusing his thoughts on a tranquil forest, serene waterfalls, koi ponds, anything zen and filled with positive energy. Slip-ups happen he tries to remind himself, slip-ups happen, to everyone. He picks up his bag (already packed before dawn) and bowcase, and checks out by the hotel counter. His phone buzzes and a message from McCree ticks in. 'Went ahead, Tracer's already here :) I'll pacify her with Mooncakes til you can get here!'
He chuckles audibly at the message before rapidly composing himself, all too wary of the weird looks coming his way.
McCree had been successful in his mission it would seem. Tracer was in a chirpy mood when Hanzo climbed aboard their vehicle, munching on a Mooncake as she greeted him. To be fair, she was in a good mood most of the time, one of the few things that would get her down and angry were people (and herself) being late.
'Thank you.' he mouths in McCree's direction and the gunslinger gives him a discreet thumbs up and a smile before returning to his book. Tracer heads back to the cockpit and gets them up in the air. When their seatbelts unlock again Hanzo goes to work on his bow. Checking for damage, testing the bowstring, giving her a polish, anything to pass the time. He could probably do this blind and even if he takes his time to do it very neatly, he's done way too fast, left with nothing to do but listen to the engine hum. He sneaks a glance at McCree. The gunslinger is draped across several pulled down seats, one leg bent up with metallic fingers drumming on his knee, and he looks way engrossed in his book, and even if Hanzo fights his curiosity with every fibre of his being, he still loses.
"What are you reading?" The words spill out before he can think any further upon them. McCree looks up at him and grins.
"Ya wanna guess?" he says, voice teasing. Hanzo snorts.
"Cowboy literature?" he offers drily.
"Gold star for Hanzo!" McCree throws back and Hanzo chuckles.
"Now, remember how I personally didn't make fun of Reinhardt for his music choices in that story I told you yesterday. That was all Lúcio and Hana. This here, my friend, are books that are even older than Reinhardt's favourite music."
Come to think of it, McCree was reading a book, not literature on a tablet like most people would do. Hanzo was weirdly pleased by this. Book were considered relics some places in this day and age, but there were enough people around refusing them to go extinct so to speak and they remained an odd hobby for certain people.
"Morgan Kane?" Hanzo voices out, now close enough to actually being able to read the title on the book.
"Gunslinger hailing from Santa Fe, New Mexico. My hometown." McCree replies, fondness lingering in his voice.
"Came over this here series by total accident. It's set in the middle of the 1800 and even if it's fiction and the main character is a made up guy, it's somewhat based on real events and I found it oddly satisfying to read about how Santa Fe allegedly was like so far back."
Hanzo swallows, he almost wishes he weren't privy to the information McCree has just given him. It only furthered his attraction to the man.
"Of course you can't count on it being too accurate, it was written by a Norwegian author, whom I am unsure of having ever set foot in Santa Fe." McCree continues.
"Norwegian? As in what Torbjörn is?" Hanzo asks before his brain can catch up. McCree laughs.
"In Torbjörn's own words; for the last time, I am Swedish!" he says dramatically.
"Norwegians and Swedes are very alike, but still very different from each other I've heard. You could offend someone, Hanzo." the gunslinger finishes with a stupid grin. Hanzo snorts but can't help the laughter that spills forth right after. They laugh a good solid minute before Tracer asks them through the com system exactly what was so funny.
Hanzo spends the rest of his trip lowkey reading the first book about Morgan Kane on his tablet.
