now the BEST attack I did for art fight, an attack for @asticou with their phantom thief OC Eiffel (green hair), their detective OC Levet (purple shirt)!

commission for @asticou!

Ever the victim of insomnia, McCree found himself en route to the Watchpoint’s kitchen before he could stop himself.

Nights like these awoke a craving in him for hot herbal teas, their lull and scent conjuring up images of his mother and childhood home. Tómate una taza de hierba buena, mijo. Maybe it was the thought of his mother more than the tea at this point, but the memory still settled his rattled nerves and beckoned sleep; a Pavlovian response he was all too happy to submit to.

He flicked the overhead lights on upon arriving, the buzz of the fluorescent an old friend. The serenity of the reflective chrome appliances was broken almost immediately by a lump of tattered cloth seated at the small dining table to the side of the room. No, not seated, strewn.

The tired silhouette of Hanzo cut through the calm in the room. His snores, seemingly unheard before, echoed off the table. Both tucked into a ball and taking up an entire side of the table, the man was completely out of it, if the small dribble of spit and hard press of his cheek against the cool surface was anything to go by.

Tea all but forgotten, McCree made his way to help his teammate in need (out of the goodness of his heart, dammit, he answered to an imaginary Genji laughing at his predicament.)

Gently, he laid his metal hand on the table, sliding it closer to Hanzo, the scrape it wrought noisy but not too loud. “Hey, Hanzo,” he whispered. “You don’t have to go home, but you can’t sleep here.” He reached over to gently shake the other awake. “Han? You okay, buddy?”

Hanzo rustled lightly at the shake, pulling his head out from the nest of his arms. His eyes were tightly shut against the light, McCree moving so his shadow cast more solidly over him. “McCree?”

“S’right, it’s just me.” 

“Fancy meeting you here,” Hanzo yawned. Despite the sleep coating his voice, Hanzo sounded flirty. “Or not, actually. One typically finds snacks in the kitchen, after all.”

As Hanzo settled back to sleep with McCree’s arm held prisoner as his new pillow, McCree blushed to high heaven. Smiling down at the tired archer, he sat next to him, pulling him to lean against him off the table.

Smooch the familiar for good luck.

Commission for Asticou

Heck yeah. Gentleman thief and law abiding boyfriend. Best dynamic ever. These characters belong to https://asticou.tumblr.com/