McHanzo Art and FanFics

When the door closed, Jesse’s face crumpled like cheap plaster during an earthquake. Pieces of his personality were littered behind him. The gaudy hat went on the coat rack and the flashy red and gold serape ended up on the floor. The belt buckle rattled on his bedside table. He didn’t have the energy to kick off his boots and collapsed into bed.

A painful ache nagged in his chest, something heavy and bitter and grew roots into his every vein. He would smell like scorched metal on the inside. His com pinged with messages from the group text and he clawed it out of his ear. The rest of the team was gathered for a post mission celebration of movies and pizza and more alcohol than was wise.

Jesse reached blindly for his own flask. He had to roll onto his back to get to it and didn’t bother to sit up to take a drag. It was a familiar, grounding sensation. A reminder that he was in his body and not drifting. Always drifting unless he anchored himself with a conscious effort.

He was too tired for that tonight and he floated.

The room was cold and the light through the window was brittle silver. He turned his back on the window and lifted weary eyes to his still flashing com. He thought it would have been easier coming back.

He wasn’t under anyone’s thumb. He didn’t have to fight to earn his freedom every day. There were people here that cared for him. But it was the same.

He still didn’t belong. Like a dangerous mutt that stayed for table scraps. Just this time it wasn’t a bed and safe place to sleep but a chance at redemption and purpose.

A soft knock on the door almost made him roll over to look but Hana or lucio would leave when he didn’t answer.

A firmer strike of fist to metal jolted him but he just put his pillow over his head. There was a moment of quiet and then a muffled voice and beeps as someone put his code into the keypad.

Panic lanced through him as the door hissed open and he whirled to his feet. Peacekeeper in his hand  and raised before he could blink.

Hanzo stood silhouetted by the bright hall light, leaning against the frame. There was a dangerous, lazy tilt to his head but Jesse slowly lowered his gun.

“I will celebrate with you in here.”

“Just making yourself right at home,” Jesse sneered, a raw, vulnerable part of himself exposed. He didn’t have the strength to raise his walls higher.

Hanzo chuckled in that easy, commanding way of his and stepped into the room. He took his time to survey the state of things. Jesse wished he could hide the empty bottles and takeout containers in his bedside trash.

“Sit.”

Jesse’s legs obeyed despite the mean curl of pride in his chest and Hanzo prowled to stand right before him. Jesse reluctantly tilted his head back to look up at his teammate. It made the crink in his neck ache and he pulled from his flask without breaking eye contact.

“You and your love of this trash,” Hanzo sniffed at the fumes rising from cheap whiskey. He still took the flask from Jesse’s hands and drank himself.

Jesse laughed as his face scrunched up just the slightest. “You always look funny drinking it. What are you really here for, Hanzo?”

“I did not see you at the celebration.”

“Surprised you could pull yourself away to check up on little ol’ me.” Jesse rolled his shoulders before starting to unbutton his flannel. He was too warm now. He wanted Hanzo to leave, to get out of his space and stop breathing his air. And to stay and sink into him till he could feel Hanzo’s heart against his and the burning fire of his soul light up his own hollow chest.

A flicker of doubt moved over Hanzo’s face and Jesse leaned back on the bed. He held his weight on his hands. His hips canted forward as he let his legs spread. The jeans were tight on his skin and too hot with the alcohol chasing through him.

“You gonna tell everyone i was just peachy keen, all tuckered out and snoozing like the old man i am? Be the easiest explanation and you can get back to the party.”

Hanzo didn’t blink at the cruel tone Jesse used and a flash of guilt caught Jesse off guard. He ran a hand through his wild hat hair.

“I am not looking for an explanation.” Hanzo crossed his arms and flashed that one, slightly crooked smile he saved just for moments when they were alone.

“What do you want then?” Jesse threw his hands up in exasperation and fell to lay on his back. His feet on the floor and a beautiful, deadly assassin watching him from half lidded eyes.

“I want to fuck you till you forget all your worries and come undone with a cry of bliss. I desire to hold your gasping, sweaty body against mine as I rock inside your most sacred places. I will kiss the tears from your cheeks as i fuck you into the mattress and make you bounce on my cock till you forget your sorrows.”

Jesse’s jaw dropped and he spluttered at the gush of adrenaline and desire in his stomach. He had to look away to try to speak. “Fuck.” he looked at the flask in his hand, sure he’d drunk too much and passed out to a dream. But Hanzo was solid under his fingers. He ran then down the assassin’s bicep and forearm to linger at his wrist.

It was a terrible decision.

Nothing more than a bandaid on a gaping wound but he tugged Hanzo close. Tears bubbled up and rained down into his beard. He kept his forehead pressed tight to Hanzo’s stomach, hands buried in his shirt to hold him still.

Tender fingers brushed through his hair, hesitant at first. He bit back a sob. It broke free anyway as Hanzo cupped the back fo his neck and squeezed so gently. The muscles vibrated like a bowstring but slowly relaxed.

Jesse couldn’t show his weakness, keeping his face plastered to Hanzo’s stomach. Arms came around him, lifting him closer, higher. Hanzo’s chest was firm and warm and felt like the eye of the storm.