#dickstrickles

In which McCree is the target, and Hanzo is undercover agent’s handler as they attempt to sway and woo McCree into a trap to bring him to justice.

Except McCree doesn’t fall for the spy, but Hanzo.

———

He’s in disguise himself, fitting in seamlessly with the ritzy night club they knew McCree would attend that night. So seamless, he bleeds into the background; or so he thought. McCree slides into the empty seat next him, ordering a triple whiskey neat.

As the bartender turns away, the smile turns to look Hanzo directly in the eye. The all knowing look on McCree’s face contrasted against the alluring smile on McCree’s—ruggedly handsome, freshly clean shaven (When had that happened? Their intel hadn’t mentioned that!!)—face.

Hanzo hid it all under a neutral look on his face.

McCree throws him a wink to render him in a complete stupor, for good measure. “When word got to me about an attempt on me, I didn’t think they knew exactly my type, Jesus. I’d hate to kill ya darlin’, so why don’t we just kiss and pretend this meetin’ never happened.”

Nothing but static hummed in the empty spaces of Hanzo’s mind, every brain cell and every synapse working double time to decipher the words falling out of McCree’s mouth. Despite still not done parsing the sentence, Hanzo heard himself answer. “I beg your pardon?”

A glint of light betrayed the swift way McCree brought his hand to his chest. “Oh, honeybee, don’t be puttin’ these thoughts in my head, you, beggin’. Now we have to part in order to keep this civil.”

On the outside, Hanzo remained a vision of confusion, just enough on that side of neutral to keep up his ploy. On the inside, his heart hammered in his throat, thoughts of his own adding its own fuel to his anxiously beating heart.

“S-sir, I think you have me mistaken for s-someone else—“

“You’re here to catch me, aren’tcha? You’re the honeypot they sent, and a mighty fine one, I need to know how your team incepted me or something because spot on—but I’m getting ahead of myself, there. You can drop the act, hon, it’s no worry.”

A single laugh broke Hanzo’s hard fought mask of composure. “W-what.” Another laugh followed, coming out of his nose, its surprise evidently creating more and more hairline fissures in his resolve. “You think— No, y-you think I’m. I’m the honeypot?”

Tears of mirth welled in his eyes through the sheer stupidity of it all, his laughter kept to a difficult minimum, but a minimum nonetheless. When he chanced to open his eyes, he caught a light blush coloring McCree’s face, a universal symbol of embarrassment. But looking into his eyes told of a different story. Endearment reflected the dim lights in the club, shining brightly through the wispy atmosphere. If McCree were to suddenly get drop kicked in the head, his expression would remain the same: a man in love.

———

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.

The phone rang for less than a second before McCree picked it up. “Hey baby, I miss you.”

The sigh that came through the other end sounded annoyed, but McCree knew better. “Anata, you cannot keep answering my calls like that every time,” a small chuckle crinkled through the airwaves. “I miss you as well.”

“You know what those pet names do to me, babe. Your voice is the gas and those terms of endearment are the light, and dammit, I burn brightly for you.”

“Jesse, I’m begging you,” despite the advancement in technology over the years, nobody either cared or knew how to diminish movement feedback in phone calls, “you say such things and I want nothing more than to abandon my post to come home to you.”

Jesse smiled into the receiver of his phone. “Then beg.”

12. things you said when you thought i was asleep

:)

At the edge of the cliffside, the skyline was endless. As endless as my love for you, Hanzo thought, shuffling next to McCree. He chanced a glance away from the stars he had brought McCree out to see, happy to find the other man just as taken by the universe as he.

The wind picked up, a slight chill in the air making Hanzo’s ribbon tangle and twirl. It was welcomed, as it did not carry the threat of overcast or clouds with it; Hanzo would never admit this, but he was also thankful for the cover it gave him to scoot a little closer for warmth.

“Dang… in all my years, in all the open skies I’ve called a roof, this one takes the cake.” The anchoring awe in McCree’s voice hushed him, made his weathered voice as light as a feather.

Hanzo smiled, an honest look of pride and glee. He lowered his gaze from the night sky, surprised to meet McCree’s eyes when he looked over. The cowboy had been looking at him.

Pushing through the blush quickly enveloping his face, Hanzo returned the sentiment. “You are the light of my life, and I’m grateful to be your spotlight.”

“Christ’s sake, turn the light off and come to bed.”

The warm embrace of both sleep and his lover cradled his dreams. But his lover had different ideas.

“Jesse? Are you awake?” Had Hanzo’s hushed tone been anything but apprehensive, he might just have pretended not to hear him.

Instead, McCree rolled closer to Hanzo, dragging him bodily into his arms and squishing him against his chest. “Am now, whass wrong?”

“Do you– do you think we are alone in this universe?”

“Beats me, s’far as I can tell you’re the only thing that matters, and that’s what counts,” he murmured against Hanzo’s shoulder. “Now c’mere and listen to my heartbeat, calm ya down a little.”

He tried to distract Sombra with everything he could imagine, but to no avail.

“I know what you’re trying to do, Jessito, and it’s not gonna work.” She popped her bubblegum dangerously close to his hair when she leaned in, causing him to swerve into a sunglasses stand, nearly knocking it over. “Might as well bite the bullet and meet your fate.”

“You don’t have to mock me, ya know.” 

“And you don’t have to keep stalling, and get a move on.”

“I know you cheated, Som, and when I find out how, oooo,” Jesse shook his head, lowering his voice, “you’ll pay.”

They reached the target store, Lush, before long. Sombra’s smirk and a hard pushed forced Jesse’s legs to move forward, stepping inside, immediately swamped by the smell of a thousand soaps. He idled by the bulk soaps, pretending to compare the values of Serendipity and Parsley Porridge. As if on cue, a worker approached him with determination in their steps.

“Welcome to Lush, can I help you find anything?”

Still looking at the soaps in front of him, Jesse took a deep, quiet breath, readying himself for his humiliation. “Yeah! Uh, I’m– desperately ugly, do you have anything–” he finally turned around to face the helpless employee, catching sight of Sombra outside through the large window, “to help with…that. Hi.”

Scandalized could not even begin to cover the emotion on the employee’s face. A slow blink and jaw click later, the look changed to confusion, which quickly bled to concern. “You’re not even remotely ugly,” the employee murmured under his breath, a blush rising when he realized he had said that aloud. “That. That is to say, ahem, none of our products can fix something that’s not broken.”

“That’s such a nice thing to say, honey. Not honey!” Jesse slapped his own face, face going red from the smack and embarrassment. “I’m sorry,” he looked at the name tag attached to the employee’s apron, “Hanzo, I’m so sorry. I lost a bet and was forced to come in here to humiliate myself, and–”

“Say no more. A younger sibling, I assume?”

“Yeah, how did you–”

“I’ve fallen victim to younger sibling bets myself, you don’t need to apologize.” The employee, Hanzo, broke their eye contact to brush back a loose strand of hair. “But do you need help finding anything? Since you’re already here and all, might as well treat yourself to a nice shampoo, body butter, my number.”

Jesse leaned forward at that last one, a soft ‘huh’ his only response.

Hanzo pushed on, ignoring his blush spreading over both of their faces. “I wasn’t kidding when I said you weren’t even remotely ugly. Plus, I think we already have a fair bit in common, given…this.”

I already answered #15! 

4. things you said over the phone