More nsfw content wowie zowie
They woke in a mess of tangled limbs. Jesse felt the weight of Hanzo's chest against his back, muscular arms wrapped around his waist, lips hovering above the small of his neck and breathing out short bursts of warm breath. He felt groggy when he finally pulled his eyes open, rays of sunlight beaming down through the blinds. The hazy state of the room felt like a surreal dream.
Jesse felt a soft sigh brush his hair, the arms and legs wrapped around him tightening their grip ever so slightly. He turned his head just enough that he could see Hanzo, sound asleep and pressed tightly against his back. He was a clingy sleeper. Cute.
Hanzo popped his eyes open, and caught the gunslinger as he was staring. Jesse blinked, throwing a curved grin his way. The grip on his hips went loose just a bit, and Jesse turned over so they could face each other. He pressed a chaste kiss against Hanzo's lips.
"Mornin', sunshine," he drawled, letting his hands drag up Hanzo's sides, eventually resting against the small of his back.
Hanzo murmured a word in Japanese that took Jesse a moment to process. Ohayo. He knew the word, and he could infer the meaning. It was a phrase he heard often during his time in the country.
He watched as Hanzo blinked slowly, then closed his eyes again as he burrowed his face against Jesse's collarbone. He curled his nose.
"You smell." The words were uttered with a tone of complete apathy.
"Now, that's no way to greet the man whose ass you just destroyed," Jesse grinned, jokingly, propping his head up.
Hanzo scoffed, "I could do it again if it will shut you up."
Jesse leaned in to nuzzle his neck, "Mm, darlin', you know I ain't opposed to that."
An insistent scratch. Jesse felt long nails dig into his skin. "On your back," Hanzo commanded, eyes narrowing with slyness.
Jesse obliged, knowing he was already becoming messy and eager below. Hanzo noticed this after he sat in between his legs and glanced down. Until he saw the sly grin Hanzo erupted, Jesse was feeling confident. Now, watching Hanzo slither down his body with a trail of kisses, he felt a bit unsure of what the archer was planning.
When Hanzo dropped down underneath the blanket and took his length into his mouth, he sputtered. There was an initial surprise, which led to ragged breathing and soft mutters of shit, Hanzo, fuck, you're perfect. Hanzo hummed in delight, tongue driving up the length of his shaft until he popped it back into his mouth, going as far as he could without feeling the need to gag. Jesse glanced down to see Hanzo's inky hair spread all over. He drew a hand down to gather the stray locks, fist clenching all of it together.
Jesse whimpered as Hanzo's intensity only grew more severe. This man really knew the best way to turn him into a puddle. The fist in his hair tightened, and he felt his legs lose their composure as they started shaking violently. With a gruff noise, Hanzo drew his arms up to hold them in place, dragging Jesse's hips up to barely hover over the bed.
"Sweetheart, please, I'm going to—" Jesse whined, giving up his sentence halfway to make rapid hand movements that were aiming in the general direction of his crotch. Hanzo continued, and the gunslinger was afraid he'd nearly rip out Hanzo's gorgeous hair if he tugged any harder to pull him off. "Come off, darlin', kiss me instead."
Hanzo's lips were on his in a heartbeat, hot and insistent against his own. The archer kept Jesse in his fist, stroking rapidly as he melded their mouths together. Jesse kept a grip on his hair, moving his free hand down his spine until he could grab Hanzo's ass. He smacked the cheek, and Hanzo pulled away immediately to give him a look, his brows knit.
Jesse froze, hot and embarrassed when he realized Hanzo wasn't into it, "Uh—My bad, I—"
"You're vile," Hanzo murmured, letting his thumb drag over the tip of Jesse's head. The gunslinger yelped. Hanzo leaned in to nuzzle Jesse's neck, whispering a phrase in Japanese. He wasn't familiar with this one, didn't catch how it sounded. Hearing Hanzo speak in his native tongue in bed did wonders to him, as he learned the previous night.
Hanzo had their lips meet again, but this time was less insistent and Jesse reveled in the longer and drawn out session until they had to pause for breath. It was different to kiss softly, to feel Hanzo express the adoration he held that wasn't so easy to express with words. The hand still wrapped around his dick was certainly an additional factor to that, to boot.
"Sweetheart, I been thinkin'," Jesse drawled, running both hands along the length of his arms, paying extra attention to the swirls of the dragon tattoo, "you wanna change it up a bit? Let me take over?"
Hanzo seemed to consider this for a long moment, tensing up at first. But he softened after a few seconds, pulling up a warm smile and giving a nod. The archer pulled himself off Jesse's lap, stepping onto the wooden floor and digging into the drawer for the supplies they tucked away inside. A foil packet hit Jesse's chest with a thwap mere seconds later, and he glanced up to see Hanzo smirking.
"Cheeky fella," Jesse sniggered, sitting up as he undid the wrapper. He was so focused on the task he hardly noticed the weight of the bed shift as Hanzo dipped back in. When he glanced back up, his heart nearly caught in his throat.
Face flushed red-hot, inky hair draped over his shoulder, Hanzo was wearing his hat. He must have snatched it from the floor in the far corner of the room. Needless to say, Jesse wasn't complaining. He was so transfixed, in fact, he hardly even noticed Hanzo slip on the condom, slick his length, and drop himself into Jesse's lap. The sensation of Hanzo's heat wrapped around his dick had him snapped back to reality, and he flew back against the pillows as a whiny, hot mess.
Hanzo licked his lips, drinking in the sight of Jesse's squirming motions and hot breath. He kept upright, moving up and down at such a brutally slow pace. Jesse snatched his waist involuntarily, nails digging into the smooth skin. The slowness was unbearable, Jesse hungered for more. He shifted his position just enough that he could push up and meet Hanzo halfway, both reveling in the sensation and moaning in unison.
He could admit he loved the feeling of Hanzo riding him, but it wasn't what he wanted. He wanted to ravish Hanzo, throw him to the bed and destroy him. Fuck him until he saw stars. But Hanzo was quick to bite back if he pushed too far. He had to tread lightly.
Pulling himself up, he brought Hanzo back down with him by locking their lips and digging nails into his back. Hanzo complied, running a tender hand through Jesse's coarse and messy hair. The gunslinger dragged his hands down to grip Hanzo's ass in both palms, thrusting up at a faster pace than Hanzo could keep up with. He could hardly stand it anymore.
"Babe, sugar, darlin'," he drawled between harsh kisses, "can I take over? Do you mind?"
Hanzo let out a low moan that almost sounded like a growl, nipping Jesse's neck and jaw. After a few moments, he breathed, "Go ahead," his voice was low, too focused on keeping himself from being overstimulated. He suddenly gripped Jesse's hair, tugging him up just a bit to look up at him, "Don't disappoint me."
"I don't plan to, sweetheart," Jesse smirked, leaning up and flipping their positions over, grabbing his hat off Hanzo and tossing it behind him to the floor. He melded their mouths together as he pushed back into Hanzo, drinking up the soft moans that erupted from his throat. He immediately went hard, the headboard banging against the wall and the noise of skin slapping skin becoming an echo of the night before. Hanzo fell apart quickly, whining in a sputter and digging his ankles into Jesse's back.
"So good for me," Jesse drawled huskily, "so fucking gorgeous. Shit, Hanzo."
Hanzo didn't last long. Jesse brushed his scattered raven bangs from his eyes and pressed their foreheads together when Hanzo finally came, releasing all over their chests and bellies. It took but a few more thrusts until the gunslinger followed suit. Jesse drooped down to press kisses all over his jaw and lips as Hanzo cooled down, their ragged breaths mixing together in the small room.
"Satisfied?" Jesse beamed, leaning against his elbows on the sides of Hanzo's head.
Hanzo could only nod swiftly, and lean up to mash their lips together as if making a final statement.
Forming a silent yet mutual agreement that the smell of sex was strong on them both from two nearly consecutive couplings, they dragged themselves into the shower. While they did manage to come out nice and clean, it wasn't without fierce kisses and lingering touches.
Jesse was drying off his hair, scrubbing vigorously with a towel, when he chuckled, "Reyes' gonna kill me. I been out way too long." He slipped on fresh boxer briefs dug out from the duffle bag, followed by a pair of blue jeans. He let the towel sit on his shoulders, turning to glance at Hanzo. His eyes traced the curve of Hanzo's bare hips, watching the archer dry off his slender legs.
He was startled when Hanzo's eyes caught his in the act, and he was smirking, "That may be, but I can make you feel alive again if needed."
Jesse shifted his gaze as he grabbed a red and black plaid shirt, slipping his arms into it and doing the buttons. He whistled lowly, "Damn, sugar, don't threaten me with a good time."
"A threat? I've no idea what you mean," Hanzo was grinning as he slipped on his yukata, the only clothing he brought with him, Jesse realized. Neither of them arrived to this destination very well prepared, did they?
Jesse glanced at the holo-clock. It was barely ten in the morning. When he was dried off and fully clothed, he leaned back down onto the bed and made arm movements in Hanzo's direction. "Come lay with me a bit more, sugar."
Hanzo chuckled as he did the string on the white layer of his yukata, "So needy."
"I ain't ever gonna see you again after today, let me love on you a little."
Hanzo frowned, as if he only just realized the same thing. Jesse gulped, feeling the hair of his neck prickle. The archer finally conceded, leaving himself half dressed as he crawled into Jesse's arms and hugged close to his body.
"I will miss this," Hanzo murmured, lips grazing Jesse's neck, "I will miss you."
Jesse gave a sigh, nodding, "Same. But for all it's worth, I'm… I'm glad we met. I don't regret one bit of this."
An insistent tug against the front of his shirt, Hanzo's light fingers gripping loose fabric, "What will you do now?"
"Hm? Oh, I dunno," Jesse gave a shrug, "I'm always doin' somethin' for Blackwatch. I'm sure I'll be on another mission somewhere soon. That's just how it always is for us... constantly on the road."
"Do you not enjoy it?"
A pause. Did he? Jesse was still paying a debt to Overwatch and, in extension, Blackwatch. He did this because he was obligated to rather than by choice, but he never thought about how he felt of it. It was always just following orders. That's how it's always been; Deadlock was the same. "I dunno," he finally admitted with a low voice, "It's fun goin' around the world, seein' new places, meetin' new people." He said the last phrase with a soft tug on Hanzo's shoulder.
"You must have so many interesting stories, seen so much," Hanzo said, giving a small sigh afterwards, "You have so much freedom. While I'm stuck here, with duties I never asked for."
"I ain't free. Not really," Jesse insisted, trying to bore his gaze into Hanzo's, but he still had his face buried in Jesse's neck, "I got an obligation to Blackwatch. I'm stuck with them till I die."
Hanzo hummed, but didn't say anything more. Jesse felt a bit anxious at the many seconds of silence, his mind racing. He had more to say, for Hanzo's ears alone. It was dragging up the words and pushing away the embarrassment that he found to be the most difficult.
"Y'know, ever since I was little," he swallowed audibly, tongue flicking out to wet his dry lips, "even before I joined Deadlock, I always just wanted, y'know… a normal life. No killin', no missions, no debt to pay off. I guess I brought it upon myself, yeah, but I was young and foolish when I made this choice." A pause. "Thought it was my only choice."
Hanzo was silent, listening intently. Jesse shifted his weight, moving from his back onto his side, facing Hanzo directly. He ran a hand down the archer's cheek, who inhaled sharply.
"My whole time in Deadlock, that was all I could think about. Goin' to school, gettin' a real job, maybe marryin' someone I fancied. I dunno…" his words trailed off, the thoughts in his head going in all directions. He couldn't pinpoint where exactly he wanted to go next. "I know I can't go back from what I did, and I know you can't change the obligations you got to your family, but goddamn, sweetheart… if there was some way fate could bring us together again, I'd—"
His words were cut short by Hanzo's lips, warm, soft, and insistent against his own. He didn't mind, not one bit. He drank up the taste of him, their mouths moving so perfectly against the other's. Hands dragged down Hanzo's sides, trying to memorize the contours of his body that he would never feel again.
He wasn't ready to leave. But he never would be.
When Hanzo pulled away, they were both breathing raggedly as they sucked in as much air as they lost, and he spoke softly, "It is the same for me, Jesse." Hanzo's fingers tugged lightly at Jesse's lower lips, soft and teasing. "If our future allows us, I will return to your side without hesitation." Another press of lips, this one chaste.
Jesse was the one to pull away this time, "Hang on, I wanna give you somethin'," he drawled, jumping from the bed to his duffle bag that remained on the floor. He ignored Hanzo's questioning remarks, digging through his bundle of clothes. He made a cry of success when he brought out the kerchief, turning to Hanzo, "Close yours eyes, don't look." Hanzo gave him a scowl, but shut them regardless.
Jesse went to Hanzo's side, folding the kerchief in half into a triangle shape, and brought it over his neck, tying the ends together. He pulled Hanzo's long locks out and they fell over the knot. Hanzo was stunned, blinking his eyes open. He brought the soft, red fabric up to his lips, soaking in the scent of pinewood mixed with that of cigar smoke. It smelled like him.
"There's somethin' you can keep to remember me by," Jesse drawled with a grin. He stepped back, whistled, "Shit, it looks good on you."
"I want to give you something as well," Hanzo said as he lifted off the bed and dug through his much smaller pile of items, which was mostly the yukata. He pulled the golden hair tie from the folds, turning to Jesse.
Normally Jesse preferred to keep his hair down, thinking he looked much better with it let unkempt and messy. But he allowed Hanzo to come behind him and do his hair up in a nice ponytail, with the golden tie draping loosely over his shoulder. Finished, Hanzo moved back to face Jesse, giving a nod and a comment of, "It looks nice."
"Thank you, sweetheart," Jesse brought his hands onto Hanzo's hips and dragged him in for a kiss, "I'll take care of it."
Hanzo chuckled lightly, and Jesse relished in the warm noise.
With an hour remaining of their time in the room, half of it was spent tangled together on the bed and kissing softly. It felt completely different to take everything so slow, after a night of rushing and trying to make the most of what little time they had together. Neither of them had a single regret, except that now they had to separate for what may be the final time.
As Jesse was packing the last of his items within his duffle bag, he was hit with the realization that they would likely meet that night, during the assault on Shimada castle. He had become so stupidly distracted by his physical urges that he nearly forgot the entire reason he was in Japan in the first place.
They were going to kill Hanzo's father that night. Or, at least, try to.
He glanced anxiously over to Hanzo, watching the archer pull on his red obi. He had to warn Hanzo, unless he was already aware of the situation. Jesse couldn't remember anymore if they discussed the matter before. Maybe Hanzo wouldn't mind if his father died, he would finally be free without the Shimada clan. They could be together, but… no, that was selfish. Completely selfish. Even the son of a criminal didn't deserve to have his father killed.
He needed to warn him, at least. Keep Hanzo and his brother out of Blackwatch's line of fire. If they were in the castle that night, they would surely be killed on sight. Blackwatch would do anything to keep the Shimada clan from rising again. Jesse wondered momentarily if Reyes would do the same, considering how fond he'd become of Genji. It wasn't worth the risk.
He packed his last belonging in the duffle bag, zipping it up and turned to face Hanzo. "Hey, you got any plans tonight?"
"No," Hanzo muttered as he tucked stray folds of his yukata, "Why?"
"Er, well, I might not be leavin' till late. Maybe we could go do somethin' with Genji before I go?"
Hanzo turned to face Jesse, brows creased as if considering the option, "Maybe. Depends on what you have in mind."
"I'm up for anythin'. I'll let you two decide," he paused, clicked his tongue, "it's gotta be sometime before the twentieth hour, though."
"That's not too late. I'm sure we can go do something with you," Hanzo walked over and pressed a peck against Jesse's lips, "I'll always make time for you."
The soft smile Hanzo gave utterly tore Jesse's heart apart.
There would be no meeting between them. At that time tonight, Jesse would be with Blackwatch, ready to storm Shimada castle. All that mattered, truly, was that Hanzo and Genji would be away, in the village. They'd be out of the crossfire. They'd be safe.
Hanzo was pulled into an unexpected embrace in that moment, Jesse heaving as he tried to keep the tears that wanted to escape under control. This was goodbye, for him. For Hanzo, it wasn't quite the end, and he would remain unaware of the situation. When Jesse would skip out on their little meeting, he would realize what an untrustworthy liar Jesse really was.
Maybe Hanzo could forget about Jesse more easily this way, too.
Hanzo left his cowboy behind with a cheerful air, knowing they would be meeting again soon. The kerchief around his neck was an indication of Jesse's affections, a promise between them that this wasn't truly over. They were young, barely two decades old; they had an entire future to find each other again.
Hanzo insisted that Jesse keep the red yukata, despite his protests. I ain't worthy of somethin' so nice, sweetheart, he insisted. Hanzo practically had to stuff it in his duffle bag just to make sure he wouldn't leave it behind.
It's yours.
Returning to the castle was its own task entirely. Hanzo was evidently coming back from a rough night, his hair a disheveled mess and his yukata a downright disaster. He ignored the glances he received from the guards at the wooden entrance door, slipping inside and maneuvering through the garden to stay out of sight. When he finally reached his room, he slid the door shut and let out a sigh of relief.
The joy was short-lived, for he heard Genji's voice on the opposite end of the door right as he changed out of his yukata into his kyudo-gi. The voice was muffled and he could hardly understand his brother through the screen. Slipping on his hakama and tying his obi around his waist, he slid his door open. Genji was frozen solid, tense as a bowstring. His eyes were shifty, but mostly focused on the floor.
"What do you need?" he asked, unable to hide the irritation in his voice. He just wanted a nap at this point. He was hardly in the mood to deal with his brother's shenanigans.
"Father wanted me to find you," Genji murmured, voice barely above a whisper, "he wants to talk to you."
Hanzo gave a low sigh, running a hand through his hair. "Is it urgent? Is he upset?"
"Yes and yes." Genji finally moved, but only to fold his arms. "He's pissed."
Hanzo groaned, but conceded, "Very well. I'll speak to him." He paused, catching Genji before he could saunter away, "I'm meeting with McCree tonight. He wanted you to come too."
Genji turned back to face his brother, brows furrowed, "I thought he left already. Yeah, sure, I'll go. Have him text me the deets." With that, he was gone. Clearly, he wanted nothing to do with the quarrel between his father and elder brother.
Hanzo didn't blame him. Their relationship was only growing more unstable with the passing of each year. Genji was away from home more and more often, ignoring his obligations to the family. Hanzo remained bitter that he now had to do the work for both of them to make up for it, but even he found himself wandering into the village more than before. Whether this was from Genji's or McCree's influence, he was unsure.
Deeming himself in suitable dress for a meeting with his father, he made only minor adjustments. Namely, to run a comb through his hair and tie the ends together. Considering himself prepared, he wandered down the hallway and approached his father's chambers.
"Father," he called out through the screen door, keeping his hand just above the grip, "I am here, as you asked."
"Come inside."
He obliged, sliding the door open and stepping through, shutting the screen behind him. His father was seated in his usual position: on the floor behind a small desk, akin to a kotatsu. Papers and scrolls littered its surface, and Hanzo watched as his father peeled his eyes from one particular document to glance at him. He scowled, wrinkles bending around his face as he moved and gestured to the seat opposite to him.
Hanzo bent down and sat on his knees in that spot without hesitation.
He waited impatiently for his father to speak first. Such was how it must be in their household. Hanzo wasn't permitted to have the first word. The moment was agonizingly long. His father glanced back to his document, set it aside, looked up again, clicked his tongue against his teeth. Get it over with, Hanzo wanted to scream.
"Where were you last night?" he finally spoke, his voice low and menacing.
Hanzo bit his lip. He hoped Genji could bail him out like he always did before, with Yuna. It seemed he must have forgotten, or their father was one step ahead of them. Either scenario didn't sound especially pleasing to Hanzo.
"Out with a friend." A lie that wasn't entirely made up. Vague enough that it didn't give too much information away.
"I see," his father hummed, tapping a fountain pen against the wood of the desk. Hanzo felt sweat dripping from his forehead. "I didn't realize you had friends."
Hanzo swallowed. Well, he wasn't necessarily wrong. "I have a few. The one I met with last night was in Hanamura for a short time. I wanted to see him before he left." Again, he was being honest enough that he didn't give away too much information. His father kept his face consistent, never letting even a drop of expression seep into his visage.
His father let out a sigh, tapped the pen. Drew up a hand to stroke the square-shaped line of facial hair that surrounded his lips. Hanzo was tense, keeping his hands clamped in the fabric of his hakama to hold himself steady. Beads of sweat trickled down his brow. His father clicked his tongue, drew his eyes up to look directly into Hanzo's.
"I know you're seeing that American boy."
Hanzo couldn't breathe. He froze, eyes going wide as saucers. His chest went numb.
"You tried to hide it from me, but I am no fool. I know who he is, who he works for, and what they're planning to do tonight." He twirled the fountain pen between his fingers, keeping his eyes directly on Hanzo the entire time. With a snap, he ceased and slammed the pen into the desk. The tip broke off, flying off to another corner of the room. Ink dribbled out onto the wood, seeping into the papers scattered over the desk. He didn't seem to mind, allowing the ink to spill over his work. His eyes seeped into Hanzo's, flaming. "You have gravely disappointed me."
"Father, I can explain—"
"Quiet!" he bellowed, lifting up from the floor to tower over his son. "You have done enough!"
Hanzo shrunk back down, staying quiet. He had to force himself to breathe, but it was ragged. His vision went hazy, he had to wipe off the sweat trying to drip into his eyes.
He was so stupid. Stupid, foolish, careless. He had been caught. What could he do, now? Surely he would be under house arrest again... or worse. His last opportunity to see Jesse before he left Hanamura, and it was going to be stripped away from him. It wasn't fair, it wasn't fair. He thought it would be okay.
His father began to vigorously pace back and forth across the room, spewing his frustrations out to Hanzo all the while, but most of it was incomprehensible muttering. He only stopped long enough to face Hanzo and rile himself up all over again.
"You foolish boy! Did you not realize he was an Overwatch agent? They're trying to undermine our clan!" He began his pacing once again, jittery and frantic. His father's face had adopted a tint of crimson, but it settled into a rose as he calmed down. "He was only using you to get closer to me. That's what they do, Hanzo. They're liars, tricksters, and they'll do anything to be rid of the Shimada. Centuries of our family's history, all destroyed by a handful of outsiders."
His father stopped his pacing, placing himself behind the desk once again. He gave a curse when he saw the mess from the fountain pen, as if he couldn't remember causing it in the first place.
Hanzo remained still. His fists couldn't possible clench into his hakama any tighter than they were now. It was a struggle not to let out every emotion dashing through his head escape. It wasn't true. He was wrong.
His father wiped the ink away with blank sheets of paper, leaving the mess half clean and opted instead to lean his elbows against the wooden surface, his chin lying above his clasped hands.
"They're coming. Tonight. They'll try to kill me, and I need you here."
Hanzo swallowed, his voice cracking when he finally forced himself to speak again, "Why me?"
"My forces are down thanks to your friends. You're good with a bow, Hanzo. I know I can count on you to keep me safe."
"But father, I—"
"Don't say another word," he hissed, teeth baring and brows furrowing, "This is how you'll make it up to me for what you did wrong. Ready your bow."
Hanzo was dismissed. Even with his legs carrying him back to his room, he felt dazed. It was difficult to walk, to breathe, or even to focus. He didn't even acknowledge that he was back in his room until his feet hit his futon and he plopped onto bundle of blankets. It was then that he finally caved, and spilled out the emotions he kept pent up: frustration, grief, fear. The tears were dripping faster than he could notice them. He gripped his comforter between his fingers, nearly ripping it apart.
A buzzing noise drew him back into reality, his ears pinpointing the noise. He lifted his head, glancing over to where his phone lay in its normal position. The bright light went blank after a few seconds of being ignored. Hanzo drew his hand over, snatching the device back to him.
It was from Jesse. Who else could it be, after all? It was a longer message than his usual, and Hanzo read the words in a daze.
Hey sugar. Genji wants to meet at the ramen restaurant, whatever its name was. That work for ya?
Hanzo slammed the phone back against the tatami mat, digging his face back into his blankets. So many mixed feelings and blended thoughts were swimming within his head. He didn't know what to believe anymore.
On one hand, his father could have made up the story of Blackwatch coming to the estate that night. Yet, if his father knew of McCree at all, surely it was just as possible for him to know of their plans? His father had a talent for gathering intel from his cronies, that much Hanzo knew from experience alone. On the other hand, if his father was being honest, then McCree was blatantly creating a mock meeting for the night. If he was genuinely lying to Hanzo, well… Hanzo didn't want to think of that.
Who was he to believe? A foreigner he fell so hard for so quickly, or the father he's known since birth.
For now, slamming his face into his pillow seemed the best option.
Overwatch's reinforcements arrived early that morning, and were already assembled by the time Jesse returned to base. He entered the warehouse to be greeted by dozens of new occupants, most of which were unrecognizable faces. He pinpointed one in particular that he knew, and they locked eyes within the same split second.
"Angela!" he bellowed, rushing over and greeting the young doctor in a warm embrace. She wrapped her arms around his neck and giggled. Jesse realized with a warm fondness how much he'd missed hearing her voice. The last they'd met was on a recon mission in Florence, somewhere around eight months ago.
"Jesse! I'm glad you're safe," Angela pulled away from their embrace, giving her friend a warm smile. Her voice carried her heavy Swiss-German accent, one that Jesse had become so familiar with after years of friendship. "Reyes has been so worried, you ought to go see him."
"Yeah? Sure," Jesse glanced around the claustrophobic room of soldiers and agents, not finding his commander among the unfamiliar faces, "where'd he run off to?"
"He's down here," Angela declared, tugging Jesse out of the main room to the hallway of doors, "Jack is here, too. They're having a… discussion."
Jesse pulled out a quick sigh. Those two rarely could sit in a room together after weeks or months apart without bickering within seconds. He braced himself, noticing Angela do the same, and knocked on the door she brought him to. Silence, at first. He leaned in and pressed an ear against the metal. He could hear them arguing, their raised voices muffled but still discernible.
If they weren't going to answer the damn door, he had to make the first move. He knocked again for emphasis, but when he was ignored a second time, he gripped the handle and shoved the door open.
"We need you, Jack!" Reyes was screeching as soon as Jesse opened the door, but stopped short and spun his head around to face the gunslinger and the doctor.
"Agent McCree and Doctor Ziegler," Morrison murmured, and Jesse wasn't sure if it was to himself or to the young agents. "It's been a long time. I'm sorry you had to walk in on us like… like this." Morrison gave a smile and an apologetic wave of his hand. Reyes huffed, folding his arms.
Jesse didn't pay attention to Morrison. He was here to see Reyes. "Commander," he began, giving Reyes a quick salute.
Reyes didn't return the gesture, jaw tight and eyes locked on Jesse's. After a moment of silence, he gave a chuckle. "Pasaste un buen momento?"
Jesse paused, then formed a grin. "Sííí," he drawled, throwing Reyes a quick finger gun. Morrison and Angela exchanged mutual looks of confusion.
Ignoring the sniggering noises Jesse and Reyes were exchanging, Morrison cleared his throat, "McCree, do you have a minute?"
Jesse paused, knit his brows. He rarely ever spoke with the Strike Commander, and they weren't even part of the same division. What could Morrison possibly need from him? "Yes, sir, what is it?" He kept his formal visage up around his superiors, but he had grown so comfortable around Reyes it was rarely necessary to do so these days. Nevertheless, he kept his spine straight and his hands placed lightly against his hips.
Morrison dragged Jesse away from the room, finding a secular spot in the hallway. He was fidgeting, yet there was a tenseness evident in every muscle. His bright cobalt eyes were darting around them.
Finally, he leaned into Jesse's space and spoke with an unexpected softness, "So, uh… is Gabe alright? He seems, really, I dunno… stressed."
Jesse folded his arms, giving the Strike Commander a grin, "Prolly 'cause he got told to hurry up this job that mighta taken months. You tell me why he's stressed, sir."
Morrison paused, frowned. He let his hand sit against his hips, leaning on one leg. "Okay, fair point," he admitted with a huff. "Still, something seems… off about him."
Jesse shrugged, "I admit, sir, I ain't been around him much as of late. I can't always know what's goin' on in his head."
"Yeah… no, you're right, sorry I brought it up." Morrison shuffled back as if embarrassed. The Strike Commander of Overwatch, embarrassed? Jesse could hardly believe what he was witnessing.
"It's no trouble at all, sir," Jesse threw him a smile followed by a tip of his hat, "Now that you're here, I'm sure he'll be just fine."
Morrison chuckled, running a hand through his spiked hair. "Thank you, Agent."
Within an hour, the entirety of Blackwatch's small squadron and their Overwatch support were stuffed within the cramped main room of the warehouse. The coffee table Reyes adopted into a workspace was emptied out to make room for a holographic blueprint detailing Shimada Castle. The rest of the room remained pitch black, the soft blue glow gleaming over everyone.
Morrison and Reyes placed themselves in the center around the holograph, explaining in unison all they could of the operation that night. The first half was simply to catch the Overwatch agents up on what they missed, and Jesse allowed himself to space out during that part of the lecture.
Angela and himself stood together. She was invested in their commanders' tag-team speech, while Jesse was struggling just to stay on his feet. Within the hour to spare, he already changed into his Blackwatch regalia: dark clothes topped by a grey pullover, a black chest plate protecting the upper half of his torso. He had to remove his spurs, along with his hat, which he felt nude without. They were stuffed back into his duffle bag to be sent back to the Swiss headquarters, back to the rest of what little belongings he still held onto. His personal phone had to go with everything else as well, and the thought that he couldn't contact Hanzo or Genji that night rung in the back of his mind.
He could only pray they were far, far away from Shimada Castle by now.
"Their security is tight, especially since most of their forces are staying in the fortress on high alert," Reyes explained, pinpointing on the holograph exactly where the few entrances to Shimada Castle lay. Reyes was highly professional when he needed to be, Jesse noticed. Considering how often Overwatch had been throwing him under the bus ever since the Omnic Crisis ended, Jesse could understand why he was trying to keep up his image.
"They might be expecting us," Morrison cut in, "so we need to stay vigilant. We'll have a group break through the main entrance as a decoy. Everyone else comes in through this side entrance." He aimed a finger on the fortress' west wall, indicating the hidden entrance.
Reyes folded his arms, hollow eyes doing a once-over of every face that stared back at him. His eyes settled to dwell on Jesse. The gunslinger gulped.
"Because we don't know where the clan leader is hiding, we need a small group to sneak away, find him, and take him out." Reyes' eyes narrowed, keeping fixed on Jesse. "Agent McCree and myself will handle this."
He bolted upright, eyes wide and giving Reyes a desperate plea without words. Don't make me do this.
Reyes knit his brows, looking away and finally breaking their gaze. Jesse made an incomprehensible mutter, running his hands over his face. He couldn't do this. He couldn't just murder Hanzo's father.
You've killed so many before. Why is this any different?
A soft touch drew Jesse from his own thoughts. He pulled his hands away, blinking rapidly, and saw Angela giving him a hard look. She nodded, mouthing something to him but the words were lost. She spoke a second time, but all he could do was read her lips. Pull it together.
"Once the clan leader is dead, the mission will be finished," Morrison was the one to speak now, leaning an arm against Reyes, rather casually. "For now. We'll have to return to Hanamura later on to eradicate any Shimada remnants we find. But that is for another day."
"We rendez-vous here," Reyes swiped his hand to move the map around and zoom out, pointing to a building on the outskirts of the village. Jesse recognized the location. It was close to the garden Hanzo brought him to before.
Morrison cleared his throat before taking over, "I will remain at the rendez-vous point and wait. Unfortunately, I… I can't get involved with the assault."
A collection of murmurs rang in the room. Jesse watched Reyes frown, move his head away from Morrison's direction. His thoughts went back to their argument from before, wondering if this had anything to do with it.
Morrison was Overwatch's poster boy. Of course they wouldn't let him get any more involved with a Blackwatch mission than he was meant to. That would ruin his image if the mission ended up a high-profile failure.
The meeting concluded, and the packed room of agents dispersed. Jesse's legs plundered and he plopped onto the nearest seat he could find. A crate, it seemed, would suffice. Angela was at his side in a flash, and without asking she laid a hand against his forehead.
"Jesse, is something wrong? You're getting a fever."
Jesse swatted her hand away, more forcefully than he meant to, and he quickly threw her an apology, "No, sorry, I—I'm fine, I just… I need a minute."
She stood up straight, scowling at him. "You look like you're going to faint."
"Don't worry 'bout me," he tossed a smile up at her, "you know me, I'm good at gettin' by." He reached involuntarily into his pocket, pulling out the last cigarette he had without thinking.
Angela snatched it from his lips, "I thought you were quitting!"
Jesse fumbled after it, trying and failing to grab it back from her grip, "Aw, c'mon, Ang, it's my last one." He curled his lip, pouting.
She raised an eyebrow, scowling. She tossed the cigarette away, and Jesse barely managed to grab it before it hit the ground. "You will only lie to me again if I scold you."
"I swear I'll quit. I just got a little stressed is all," Jesse bleated, voice muffled by the lung cancer on a stick between his teeth. Angela huffed. She crossed her arms and turned away, leaving him alone once more.
In the corner of his eye, Jesse noticed Reyes and Morrison huddled together on the sofa next to the holograph. Reyes was hunched over, hands folded over his chin. Morrison had a hand on his shoulder, leaning close and speaking to him.
Reyes rarely seemed so distraught. But Jesse knew better than to interrupt them, or pester Reyes about what was wrong.
He lit the cigarette, billowing out as many plumes of smoke as he could. His eyes darted to his wristwatch.
One hour to go.
A rainstorm swept Hanamura that night. Perfect timing, Jesse mused. It was an early summer rain, and Jesse didn't mind the coolness it gave off. He could've done without the humidity, however. Sweat was building up around his neck and damping his hair almost as much as the rain. He wished dearly that he didn't have to wear the grey hoodie. No matter how long he was away from New Mexico, traveling anywhere drenched with humidity managed to bother him.
The night was relatively dark, the sky full of ominous clouds that blocked the full moon. Blackwatch and Overwatch alike left the warehouse without a trace of their presence lingering behind, bringing the place back to its truly 'abandoned' status.
The squadron who would act as decoys traveled up the hill by foot while the rest of the groups, including Jesse and Reyes, took the shuttle to the hidden entrance. He sat next to his commander, taking up the window seat. Reyes left his arms folded over his chest, keeping his eyes closed. It seemed like he was asleep, but he would bolt upright every few minutes as if he were dozing on and off.
When they arrived, Jesse felt his chest lurching. He left the shuttle slowly, fingers drifting to Peacekeeper tucked away in her holster as a means of comfort. His mind was reeling. Was he really doing this? Killing the father of the man he had fallen in love with?
All he wanted instead was to take Hanzo away. Far, far away. Somewhere they could be together, and safe. No more killing, no more following orders. Just them against the world.
Murdering his father was no way to solve any of this.
But Blackwatch didn't care. Blackwatch had a mission, and that was how they decided to get it done. Jesse had seen his fair share in his three years with them just what they would do to finish the job. The consequences had been severe. High-profile mission failures, blackmail, torture, kidnapping, and corruption. Jesse had seen it all.
He didn't want that anymore.
When Reyes dropped a hand onto his shoulder, soft yet firm, he drew himself out of his own thoughts. Reyes was the sole link keeping him chained to Blackwatch, Jesse knew. But Reyes was also the one who kept him going, nevermind the debt he owed to him. Reyes was his support. Even with their differing values, Reyes never let Jesse falter. He was almost like a father to him… a word that tasted bitter on Jesse's tongue. Unfamiliar.
Reyes bore his eyes into Jesse's, the grip on his shoulder growing tighter. Overwatch and Blackwatch alike passed them as they went into formation, leaving the commander and his lowly agent alone. Reyes leaned into his space, speaking loudly enough to be heard over the rain but just enough that Jesse alone could hear him.
"Don't worry, kid," he released his grip and gave a rare smile, "this will be over soon."
Jesse huffed, shook his head, shuffled on his feet. "I don't want this to be over."
"I know," Reyes gave a sigh, folding his arms. "I know that Shimada boy means a lot to you. I'll make sure he's unharmed."
The gunslinger let out a shaky breath, sniffling from the coolness of the rain. His chest went tight, lungs constricting and making it harder to breath. The anxiety gnawing at him was unlike anything he felt before. He couldn't even say a word.
An Overwatch agent turned back to them, "Sir! Are we starting soon?"
Reyes turned away from Jesse, looking over at the agent, "Go on without us. We'll back you up. Be sure to signal the others."
The agent opened their mouth to protest, but hastily shut it, nodded, and turned away.
Reyes looked down at Jesse once again, "I can't promise everyone will get out of here safely tonight, but… I'll do my best to make sure you can meet that boy again someday."
Jesse nodded, wiping his face with his hand. Whether his cheeks were drenched because of tears or the rain, he couldn't tell. Reyes looked away, pulled out his dual shotguns.
Gunshots blared nearby, echoing in the air. Overwatch had already begun their assault. Jesse heard distant screaming, and he swallowed. He didn't want to think of who it could be, whether they were Shimada or Overwatch. He tried to numb his brain by taking long, even breaths. He slipped Peacekeeper from her holster, twirling her on his finger.
He sauntered to Reyes' side, "Let's go." His commander gave him a nod.
The hidden entrance had been left wide open for them, creating a path that went directly through the castle's west wall. Jesse perked his head out, seeing that they were within the castle garden. He could see a koi pond next to a pathway led by round stones. Plants and flowers decorated the path, and Jesse could see stone lanterns adorning it as well. They had been lit and remained safe from the rain, the soft licks of fire acting as the only source of light.
Jesse signaled to Reyes it was safe, and they crept out. Besides the ring of gunshots, a nearby sozu made consistent klonks as the rain dropped water into the bamboo shoot at a rapid pace. They diverted from the stone path to keep away from the light of the lanterns. Maneuvering their way from the garden, they reached the castle's interior.
The gunshots were dying down, yet somehow they managed to only see a handful of bodies. Some in black suits, some with grey hoodies. Jesse's stomach lurched with each fallen comrade and foe alike that they discovered. Reyes shook his shoulder every so often, tucking his shotguns away to throw him some signs with his hands. 'Keep it together.'
Jesse balled his hand into a fist, bobbing his wrist. 'Yes.' He gave Reyes a scowl when his commander pushed past him and stepped over their most recently discovered body, slipping into another room.
With no knowledge of where the Shimada leader may have been hiding, they had no choice but to check every room. Reyes stepped out, signing to Jesse that it was empty. Jesse stroked the coarse hairs on his chin, wondering where the old man must have been hiding.
Hanzo and Genji never made a mention of it to him. They didn't discuss their home much at all, now that he thought about it. Their father could have been anywhere, and this mansion was too large to check every last room. They needed to pinpoint him down.
A large room near the main entrance was out. If Shimada was hiding, he wouldn't be in such an easy location to find. Then again, maybe that was the perfect place to hide. Somewhere obvious, but hidden away, perhaps. Unsuspecting.
'Where is the main room?' he signed to Reyes. His commander pointed his finger down the hallway. Jesse had more to say: 'He will be somewhere harder to find.' Reyes nodded in agreement.
'Hidden rooms are another possibility.' Reyes concluded. Now that they were making silent acknowledgements, they snuck their way down the hall towards the entrance. It was easier to find than anticipated, but what awaited them was not what they hoped to see.
They entered an expansive room, which was mostly open space but took up several different floors. There was a center platform covered in tatami, with two unnaturally large paper lanterns created something like a doorway for the bridge that went outside. Jesse and Reyes had entered on the ground floor, and to their left was a scroll hanging against the wall. An enormous painting sat dormant above it, depicting the image of two warriors, one with a bow and one with a sword, accompanied by dragons.
The painting reminded him eerily of the two Shimada brothers.
But when gunshots echoed in the room, he snapped back to the present. He and Reyes ducked into cover, avoiding the handful of Shimada guards dressed in black. They were firing off towards the entrance, shots ringing out one by one and aiming for the Overwatch agents trying to push their way in. Reyes and Jesse managed to arrive exactly where they shouldn't be.
Reyes was repeatedly smacking Jesse's shoulder to get his attention. Jesse hissed at him, but knew he couldn't use his voice to question him.
'We have to get out of here.' Reyes signed, with an intense scowl blatant on his face. Jesse huffed, peeked his head out to glance around the room. The Shimada managed to push the Overwatch agents back, and were slowly flooding out of the spacious room.
Jesse noticed something else. Behind the wall with the scroll was another hallway. He turned back to Reyes, flailed his hands and his signing was nearly incomprehensible from his excitement. 'There's a hidden path behind the scroll. He might be there.'
'It's too risky.' Reyes signed with a frown.
'It's worth the risk.'
Reyes knit his brows, leaned over Jesse to take a quick glance into the room. Finally, he conceded with a nod. He brought his shotguns back out, while Jesse flipped Peacekeeper into his dominant hand.
Another glance into the room. The handful of Shimada were crossing the bridge by now. They had their opportunity, and they took it. Ducking out of cover, scrambling up the short flight of wooden stairs, they made their way into the nearly hidden off hallway.
The path was much like a square. They had a route to their left and right. Jesse threw Reyes a sign saying they should go left. Reyes obliged, but kept his eyes darting around them for extra precaution.
They turned a corner and reached a doorway blocked by a sliding door. Jesse and Reyes paused, giving each other an understanding glance and a nod. Reyes aimed both shotguns as Jesse slid the panel back, and they charged into the room.
They found their target, as well as the one person Jesse prayed wouldn't be there tonight.
A man sat on the far side of the room behind a wooden desk. He was an older man, long raven hair drenched with stripes of grey and tied up neatly in a bun. He had a trimmed and well-kept beard, accentuating the fierce scowl and intense glow of his eyes. It was the Shimada-gumi's leader, and Hanzo's father. There was no way he could be anyone else.
And beside him stood Hanzo. Shoulders locked, arms drawn back as he stood proudly, aiming a scatter arrow.
Ready to shoot.
I apologize for the long delays in updates. I keep forgetting I even have this story posted on ffnet. I'm much more active on ao3 so please check me out there (my username is luciolelights there too)