Hanzo’s quiet humming turned into an exasperated huff when he entered the bedroom to find it empty. He frowned at the disheveled bed, void of the man he had left there only five minutes ago in order to set the kettle to boil and sort out another dose of medicine for his sick cowboy.
He’d come back to an empty room twice before this, once after breakfast, and the second time after leaving McCree in a cool bath to retrieve a towel. He couldn’t seem to keep the sharpshooter still, despite the high fever and clogged sinuses that should have dampened his want to be everywhere at once. He acted as if it were a personal challenge, instead.
With a sigh, Hanzo placed the pills and cool water on the bedside table, right beside the cybernetic prosthetic McCree jad left behind, and began looking for his sick partner. He checked the bathroom first, but couldn’t find him there, then retraced his steps down the hall and to the kitchen, thinking Jesse had somehow slipped past him without his realizing. Slight annoyance gave way to concern when he couldn’t find him there, either. The office would surely be the next place he would have gone to, as he was a bit behind on some reports Winston had been nagging him about, but his search ended with yet another empty room.
It was as he was hurrying back to the bedroom that he heard it, the sound of something falling, right inside the laundry room. Hanzo rushed over and opened the sliding hinged doors to find McCree sprawled on the floor, a few shirts littered about him and half a basket of crudely folded laundry above him on the washer. McCree, in his defense, looked sheepish and guilty for having been caught.
“Do not ‘honey’ me, Jesse,” Hanzo scolded lightly, though he was anything but angry. “Why have you wandered off here, of all places?”
“Ain’t it my turn t'do laundry?” He questioned, trying to sit himself up with the use of his one arm and failing. Hanzo was quick to swoop down and help him properly, encouraging the sick sharpshooter to lean against him more than Jesse seemed willing to.
“You are sick, you stubborn man. Even if your sole chore was laundry, I would not have forced you into doing it. You cannot keep running off like this until you get better, my love.”
Jesse gave the archer a sweet smile as he was led back into the bedroom. “I know. But y'do so much ‘round here, darlin’. Didn’t want ya to overwork yourself on my account.”
Hanzo felt the sweetness of Jesse’s words tug at his heart, and it took him a moment to steady himself. Jesse was such a selfless man, always thinking of others before himself, and it was something Hanzo admired greatly about him. Yet there were times, such as now, when McCree was near-delirious with fever and in need of several days of rest, that the archer wished his partner were just a bit more selfish, at least when it came to allowing himself a few days to heal from his sickness.
“Such a stubborn, sweet man,” Hanzo cooed gently as he helped Jesse back into bed, kissing at his warm, ruddy cheeks. He would have to get a cool, wet cloth to place on his forehead, lest the fever get any worse.
“Hanzo,” Jesse whined, “what about laundry?”
Despite himself, Hanzo couldn’t help but smile.
“I’ll worry about it. You worry about getting proper rest.”
He moved to grab the pills and water he had set down earlier, helping Jesse sit up to swallow them, then tucked him in with only the sheet for now.
“I will return shortly. I expect to find you right here when I do, or else I’ll have to tie you down any moment i wish to leave the room.”
“You’d like that, sweet pea,” Jesse grinned, grimacing shortly after as he gave a wet cough and a sniffle. Hanzo would have to get some more tissues, as well.
“Please, get some rest, my love.”
“I will, I will,” McCree murmured, already on the verge of falling asleep. He was exhausted by the sickness, and continued to fight it, reaching out his hand to the archer. Hanzo hesitated only a moment before taking hold of his partner’s much darker hand, feeling the warmth it emanated into his cooler fingers.
“Love you,” Jesse mumbled, eyes half-lidded and steadily growing heavier.
“And I, you, Jesse,” Hanzo quietly answered, watching as the cowboy’s eyes finally shut, grip on his fingers going lax. He was careful to place that hand in a comfortable position at his side, quietly leaving the room to retrieve the items he had marked on his mental list.
The next few days, he was sure he would be chasing Jesse around the house far more than should be necessary, but Hanzo wouldn’t have it any other way.
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