#easter shenanigans

“I am only looking out for the betterment of the Clan,” Elder Akihiro pointed out, sounding righteous and whiny like a spoiled child. “I am only looking to uphold the traditions of hundreds of generations and thousands of years! Why celebrate some gaijin holiday and spoil them with treats and candies?”

Sojiro thought of Yuki and her gentle smile as she played with the boys as pups and as children. He thought of hundreds of pictures taken by her as the sickness wasted her away, of hundreds of holidays that none of them would normally partake in but celebrated with her because she wanted to.

“Because they are my sons,” Sojiro said with quiet finality, staring down Elder Akihiro until he submitted, looking away and tilting his head to bare his throat. “And I love them.”

McCree watched Hanzo out of the corner of his eyes, worried.

The town and park had been decorated for Easter with bright cardboard cutouts of rabbits and dyed eggs with handwritten signs advertising a community Easter egg hunt in the park and the surrounding areas. Granny and Gumma and Gran had knitted Hanners a yarn cap with large, floppy white rabbit ears that tied beneath his chin and told them both that they were welcome to join them at the potluck lunch even though they knew that they had never seen Hanners twice in one week – and why doesn’t Jesse invite that lovely boyfriend of his as well, what was his name, Hanzo?

(They all ignored that no one in town has ever seen Hanzo and Hanners together and that it was rare even to see Hanners more than once a month. Like clockwork Joel Morricone visited town and the park once a week with Hanzo or Hanners; never both.)

“What’s wrong?” McCree asked quietly, or as quietly as he could in an open-top Jeep. He reached over during a straightaway and brushed at the thick russet ruff around Hanzo’s neck.

Huffing, Hanzo gently turned and pressed his cold, wet nose against McCree’s hand so that it rested over his short snout. It was as close to holding hands as they really got when Hanzo was in his wolf skin.

As they approached a fork in the road, McCree brought the Jeep to a bumpy stop. “Do you still want to go on a picnic?” he asked gently, turning to look at Hanzo now that they had stopped.

Hanzo whined and McCree frowned, unsure that he had ever heard Hanzo make such a noise in his wolf skin. He snorted, tossed his head and pointed with his paw to the road to their right. “WOOuuNOOuu,” he mumbled.

Smiling softly, Jesse scratched behind the ear closest to him and Hanzo grumbled. “No pressure, you know,” he said. “If you’re not feeling up to it, we don’t have to.” Twisting, Hanzo bared a fang at him. “I know,” Jesse assured him with a laugh, moving his hand up to rub between Hanzo’s ears. “And I trust you, I just wanted to be sure.”

Hanzo huffed and pressed his cold nose to McCree’s elbow. Laughing again, he shifted the Jeep into drive and drove down the road to their right. He continued to mutter to himself and stare pensively at the trees they passed.

At their favorite picnic spot Hanzo jumped out, tail unusually still as he ran a circuit around the clearing. Shifting the ancient vehicle into park, McCree climbed out and began unpacking the things they needed for their picnic. “You wanna change back, darlin’?” McCree asked as he laid out the blanket. “I got a change of clothes for you.”

“It’s not so cold to need it,” Hanzo said as he came into McCree’s view, naked save for the thick leather collar and short leash he wore into town as Hanners. It hung loosely around his neck now and he carefully pulled it over his head and set it aside.

McCree smiled and leaned in for a kiss which Hanzo allowed. “Then for my sake,” he teased, hoping to draw a smile but failing. “Or I may get the wrong idea.”

His boyfriend hummed distractedly, seemingly staring out at the view of the nearby mountains.

Sighing, Jesse reached down for one of Hanzo’s hands and tangled their fingers together; for now, their picnic could wait. “Darlin’?” he asked. “Sweetling? Honeysuckle?” Hanzo glanced at him. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s not you,” Hanzo said after a long pause. “I am…merely caught up in my thoughts.”

McCree smiled. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Hanzo glanced at him and looked away. “It’s just…I hadn’t realized that it was Easter,” he said with the hesitancy he only showed when talking about his family. He let go of McCree’s hand and folded himself into seiza, adjusting himself with a grimace.

“Was it special?” McCree asked cautiously, digging into their bags for their food. He could never tell with Hanzo but then he couldn’t exactly blame him; the subject of his family was littered with emotional minefields.

For a long moment Hanzo seemed to be gathering himself so McCree made a burger, piling it with avocado, lettuce, tomato, and bacon then slathering it with garlic-chili sauce and balsamic syrup. Since Hanzo still hadn’t moved, he began making another burger for him.

“When Genji was…before he was born, the doctors realized that our mother was sick,” Hanzo said at last, speaking to the blanket in front of his knees. “Very sick. If she took the medicine to make her better, she would have killed Genji so she didn’t and it got worse.”

Jesse paused and put down the fork in his prosthetic hand to gently touch Hanzo’s wrist. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

“She lived longer than the doctors thought she would,” Hanzo said, turning his hand and wrist so that he could tangle his fingers with Jesse’s. Half a year ago he wouldn’t have done so and it made something in McCree’s throat flutter. “But we still didn’t have very long with her. She died when Genji was five.” He paused again. “To make up for it…she wanted us to have a lifetime of happy memories so we celebrated everything.”

“Even Easter,” McCree murmured when Hanzo paused yet again.

“Even Easter,” Hanzo agreed. “It was her favorite. She always used to find us chocolates and dress us up.” McCree bit back his knee-jerk joke that chocolate was unhealthy for dogs and instead squeezed Hanzo’s hand soothingly. “When she died…our father continued the tradition as a kind of anonymous gift. Like the Easter bunny had brought us chocolates from our mother.”

McCree flinched. “Oh.”

“When father grew ill, I missed that first Easter and…Genji was upset.” Hanzo hung his head. “I realized my mistake and…every year after that I tried to be there for Genji, to get chocolate to him but…”

Suddenly struck with realization, Jesse squeezed Hanzo’s hand. “The magic had died.” Hanzo nodded miserably, still not looking up. Sighing, McCree pulled Hanzo into his lap and was only a little surprised when the other man resisted only long enough to slip into his wolf skin. He moved their plates out of the way and lay down on his side with his werewolf boyfriend, wrapping his arms around his neck.

They stayed like that for some time and Hanzo didn’t shed his wolf skin until the next morning.

The rapid approach of the next full moon always made the wolves antsy and irritable though with his new understanding, Jesse knew why the brothers fought and nipped at each other a lot more.

Two days after their picnic, McCree found Hanzo sparring with the training bots in one of the practice range. He was taller than McCree now, even with the odd sloped hunch his shoulders took as the pull of the moon took hold of his body. It had taken some time to get used to the grotesque way his body contorted as the magic in his blood took over but now it didn’t bother him as much as it used to.

A round ear twitched toward him and Hanzo turned his head, his face lighting up in a way that it didn’t in his human skin. “Hey there,” Jesse said, unable to help the wide smile that split his face. He buried his fingers into the thick ruff growing in around Hanzo’s jaw. “Y’ got a sec, darlin’?”

Hanzo snorted indulgently. “Yush,” he said, his snout just too long to speak clearly with.

Half a year ago, or even a full year ago when Hanzo had first been assigned to the team with Jesse, it had been rare to catch Hanzo as he was now, large and hirsute and half-shifted between wolf and man. Even then, no one had known of Hanzo’s lycanthropy and McCree had only assumed it was a quirk of Genji’s and hadn’t instead been hereditary, a trait bred into the Shimada line as much as their connections to their spirit dragons.

Hanzo tilted his head obligingly, his brown eyes – lighter now during his shift – slitting in pleasure as Jesse scratched behind one of his round ears. “Let’s go in to town,” Jesse said in a rush and Hanzo tugged his head back, blinking down at him. “Just…let’s go in to town. Are you up to a full shift?”

“WHHyyyyyy?” Hanzo asked, the sound almost a whine in his throat as he tried to contort his half-shifted lips to speak.

Jesse shook his head and Hanzo huffed, wrinkling his muzzle in a grimace. “It’s a surprise. Please?”

Sighing, Hanzo looked away. “Ok,” he said and a moment later he was fully in his wolf skin.

“I didn’t mean now!” Jesse said with a laugh but still helped Hanzo to scramble out of the clothes that still tried to cling to his body. “Well, I did mean now,” he amended when Hanzo looked up at him with a bright golden eye. “But I just thought you’d at least undress before shifting!”

Hanzo barked a laugh and wagged his tail once it was free. As a wolf it was as if his human cares faded away and Jesse smiled. Unable to help himself, Jesse dropped Hanzo’s clothes and wrapped his arms around the wolf’s neck. With a gleeful howl, Hanzo wrestled with him for a bit, careful of fang and claw and prosthetic limb. When he prevailed simply by virtue of pouncing on Jesse and lying there, he took his reward by covering McCree’s face with canine kisses.

“Gross!” Jesse protested even as he laughed, trying to wiggle his hands free so he could shift Hanzo’s face away. “Tuna breath!”

With an indignant yowl, Hanzo pulled his head back, pressing both of his large forepaws in the middle of Jesse’s chest as if to say, take that back!

Jesse wiggled his hands free with a triumphant yell and held Hanzo’s jaw like a lion tamer. “Ha!” he teased back. “I got you!”

Twisting his head slightly, Hanzo eyed him…and then let a glob of spit drop from his open jaws right on Jesse’s neck. Yelping, McCree flailed and let go of Hanzo’s jaw, trying to wipe away the thick saliva dripping down the sides of his neck.

“Gross!” Jesse complained and stared up at his boyfriend who, even in his wolf skin, looked unbearably smug. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up wiseass,” he said thought it was fond. Hanzo wiggled off of him and let him get up; rolling quickly, McCree smashed Hanzo’s face between his hands and kissed his wet nose, making him sneeze. “Gotcha!”

Grumbling, Hanzo shook his head and picked up his discarded clothes in his mouth. Jesse was sure that if anyone else save him or Zenyatta were to look at him, they would assume he was angry and frustrated but he could see the gleeful cant to his ears and the happy hold of his tail.

“Ugh,” Jesse complained as he pushed himself to his feet. “I gotta change first. Then should I meet you in the garage?”

Hanzo huffed and wagged his tail, nudging his head into McCree’s leg. He fell into step beside the gunslinger. They saw Genji in the hallway, likewise half-shifted and the two engaged in a tense showdown until McCree gently nudged Hanzo’s shoulder and guided him forward and away.

Genji growled something after them that his half-formed muzzle obstructed; Hanzo flinched and McCree kept himself firmly between them.

It still took a toll on Hanzo’s mood and by the time they made it back to their room, his tail was tucked between his legs and his head was drooping.

“Come on,” McCree said, trying to get him excited again. Hanzo sighed and climbed on their bed, flopping down and flipping his tail to cover his face. He changed quickly, dipping into the bathroom to wash the leftover spit from his face from Hanzo’s enthusiastic award. “Come on,” he tried again, cautiously putting his metal hand on Hanzo’s shoulder.

Despite a human intelligence lurking behind Hanzo’s eyes, he could still react as a wild animal. And Hanzo was jumpy enough as a human – now he just had bone-crushing jaws lined with fangs to back it up.

When no reaction was forthcoming, Hanzo holding very deliberately still, McCree sighed and sat down on the bed next to him, burying his face and the fingers of both hands into Hanzo’s thick coat. “I know,” he murmured. “But Han…trust me. Come with me into town.”

“WOOoooh,” Hanzo mumbled back. He snorted.

Jesse dug his fingers into Hanzo’s thick fur, scratching behind his ears. When that didn’t work, he moved his hands down Hanzo’s spine to that spot he liked just in front of his hips. Like magic his hips wiggled and his bag paws thumped and he slowly uncurled from the miserable curl he had twisted himself into. Before he could curl up again, McCree wiggled to straddle him, pressing a sweet kiss to Hanzo’s nose.

“Come on,” he wheedled. “Trust me? It’ll be worth it.”

Turning his head away, Hanzo sighed and gently used a big paw – the size of most plates – to ease Jesse off of him. He sighed again and rolled to his feet, his ears held flat and miserable. With another sigh he walked over to the door and sat, his head and tail still drooping.

Jesse pushed himself to his feet and walked over, tipping Hanzo’s head comfortingly into his stomach (even drooping and slumped, Hanzo’s shoulders came up to Jesse’s waist) as he opened the door. “Trust me?” he murmured and Hanzo nodded his big head.

They made their way unmolested to the vehicle bays and Hanzo scrambled into Jesse’s Jeep while he opened the doors. “Chilly,” McCree commented, his breath misting the air in front of him. “You okay Han, or do you want the booties?”

The booties had been a contribution by Dr. Zhou Mei-Ling, who had worked with dogs a few times during her stay in Antarctica. It took some doing to make booties large enough for Genji and Hanzo’s enormous paws, and despite their discomfort in wearing them, they appreciated the gesture.

Hanzo snorted, shooting Jesse a very unimpressed glare. “Yeah,” Jesse said with a laugh. “I suppose it’s not so terrible out. I’ll bring some just in case but I doubt you’d be doing anything too crazy.”

Shivering, Jesse found one of his outdoor jackets – the one with a vague Wildlife Rescue label that had been stolen from an actual wildlife refuge – and slipped it and a pair of thick gloves on. Hanzo huffed again as he climbed into the Jeep as if to say, you look ridiculous.

Winking, Jesse blew him a kiss and started the car.

Hanzo’s mood perked up a bit and he halfheartedly snapped at the big puffs of snow as they drove, his tongue lolling out of his mouth and his breath misting the air before being whisked away by the wind. Smiling, McCree tucked his face further into his serape and drove. They paused outside the town to slip Hanzo’s thick leather collar and leash around his neck, and then continued on.

“Hi Miss Martha,” Jesse said as he got out. The woman waved, her hands held tightly to her sides as she propped open the door with her body. He whistled. “C’mon, Hanners.”

Gripping the end of his short leash in his mouth, Hanzo hopped out of the Jeep and trotted over to Jesse. It was a formality at this point as even the police officers in this tiny little town knew Hanners and knew that he was exceptionally well-behaved. They still kept up pretenses for the most part though, and Jesse patted Hanzo’s head before taking the leash.

“So cold,” Miss Martha complained, propping the door open for the two of them to enter. “Hopefully the snow will clear up before Easter.”

Hanzo stopped at the doorway and looked up in surprise when McCree tugged – gently – at his leash. “C’mon,” Jesse coaxed. “I know you’re used to waiting outside, sweet, but we got a surprise for you.”

“Hello, Hanners,” Miss Martha said warmly, holding out her hands to him and he pressed his chin into them so she could scratch his thick ruff and ears. “Oh, you’re so cold!” Hanzo snorted and she laughed. “Come in, come in!”

She led them through the other entry and into the shop itself where she had a towel for them to wipe the slush from their boots and paws. Miss Martha rubbed her bare arms and zipped over to the little heater behind her desk.

“Don’t worry, Miss Martha,” McCree said cheerfully. “The weather says it’s supposed to be clearing up tomorrow or at the latest, the day after.”

Miss Martha sighed regretfully. “Maybe for you up there,” she said wistfully, looking out the window. “The weatherman says that we’re in for another day or two of snow and the cold will linger on past Easter.”

Kneeling to help Hanzo dry his paws off, McCree shared a secret smile with his lupine boyfriend. Really they got their weather information from Mei, who was more reliable than the run-of-the-mill meteorologists in most areas. “Nah, the whole area,” McCree said as he got to his feet. “It’ll warm up enough to melt the snow, you mark my words.”

Clearly not believing him, Miss Martha stood and moved to a small glass display case on the opposite end of the counter from her heater. The old refrigeration units hummed and rattled (Hanzo and McCree traded glances and each made mental notes to mention it to Mei – the ladies loved Miss Martha’s candies and a broken refrigerated case would be bad for their chocolate and candy cravings) as Miss Martha dug around behind it.

“This dang thing,” she muttered. “I swear it’s on its last legs but can you believe how expensive new ones are?” She huffed as she pulled out a pitcher of some viscous liquid. “Joel, go and turn that sign to ‘closed’, dear.”

Unclipping Hanzo’s leash – which clearly confused him – McCree crossed the small candy store in a few quick strides and obeyed. Still, Hanzo sat where he had been left, very suddenly unsure of what he was supposed to be doing. He shifted when McCree began closing the blinds as well.

“That’s a bit much,” Miss Martha murmured as she began pouring the pitcher out. Some went into two glasses and more went into a low saucer. “I know it must seem incredibly undignified to drink like this, but I thought I’d make you some iced hot chocolate as well, Hanners.” She placed the saucer on the ground and smiled. “I gotta say, when Joel here came to me with a new project I was somewhat excited but I have to admit…I’d never done work quite like this before.”

Hanzo eyed the saucer and then looked up at Miss Martha who was looking at him. Right at him; had been talking to him. He glanced at McCree who patted Hanzo’s head as he passed and took one of the glasses that Miss Martha offered him.

“I told her about the Easter candies,” he told Hanzo who stared back incredulously. He took a sip from the cup and groaned. “Okay Miss Martha,” he said seriously. “I need about fifty gallons of this stat.”

Miss Martha laughed. “I don’t know about fifty gallons, but I did make up a large batch for you to take back to the girls.” She looked down at Hanzo. “I don’t get to do much chocolate work here but big holidays like Easter and Christmas always warrant it.”

Turning, Hanzo frowned at McCree who shot him an unrepentant finger gun. “I thought, why should we settle for less when you can make it fancy?” he asked a little bashfully. “And by ‘we’ I mean you,” he added quickly. “It’s your gift, after all…I’m just the translator and driver.”

Jesse yelped and Miss Martha laughed when Hanzo leaped into his arms and licked his face excitedly.

Hanzo guarded the small box jealousy on the way back and only Jesse’s reminder that his body heat would probably melt it kept him from curling up around it. But that didn’t stop the annoyed glances he kept shooting McCree.

“She already knew,” Jesse said when they were well away from the town. The snow was beginning to pick up, drifting in fat flurries across their way and Jesse had had to brush the snow out of the Jeep before they drove off, muttering about how he needed to put the top up next time. “Miss Martha. She wasn’t surprised when I explained just what you were.”

Grumbling, Hanzo huffed, his ears flat.

“I know,” Jesse said as if he had spoken. “It ain’t my place to say, but I wanted this to be special you for and Genji, you know? And it was too soon…I wanted this to be about you, not me. I wanted you to be able to get this yourself with minimal interference from me.”

They fell into comfortable silence until Jesse parked back in the vehicle bay and closed the doors. Hanzo leaned over and licked Jesse’s cheek. “Yeah,” Jesse breathed with a shaky smile. “Love you too.”

As Easter drew near, they recruited the help of the girls (whose silence was bought by Miss Martha’s frozen hot chocolate) to wrap the box of chocolate in colored cellophane with a neat bow. In the end it was Satya who came up with the idea after they had all sat, discussed, and argued about how to wrap it so that it was neat but easy for Genji to open without hands or opposable thumbs.

The full moon approached and Hanzo hid in his room with Jesse, highly unusual for him as he got antsy during the lunar event, but Jesse knew it was from nerves. They sat at the window and watched the lazy clouds drift across the surface of the moon as Genji howled somewhere beneath them.

Moon-drunk, Genji slept later the next morning and Zenyatta let Hanzo into their shared room with a slight bow.

Jesse and Zenyatta waited outside, the former wringing his hands nervously. “It’s good of you to do this,” Zenyatta told him softly. “Perhaps one day you should tell me how you did it.”

“Miss Martha’d love you,” Jesse said wistfully. “They’re doing an Easter egg hunt in town, I think. Han and I are gonna go.” Zenyatta hummed as Hanzo nudged the door open and left. “All done?” he asked and Hanzo huffed quietly. “Let’s get some grub then we can head down to town. The kids are gonna be tickled pink!”

An hour later as Jesse was zipping up his jacket and opening the doors in the vehicle bay, he heard Hanzo yell (because even in his wolf skin he still yelled rather than barked and it was hilarious). Spinning in anticipation of a threat, Jesse instead found Hanzo and Genji wrestling on the cement of the garage. Zenyatta, dressed more as a civilian rather than a Shambali monk, waved as he approached.

“Mind if we join you?” he asked. He carried a pair of brightly-woven Easter baskets. “Genji thought it’d be nice to go looking for Easter eggs.”

Jesse laughed and clapped Zenyatta on the shoulder. “The more the merrier,” he said. “And I’m sure Miss Martha would be thrilled to have more visitors to the shop.” He whistled and both lycanthropes lifted their heads and ears to look at him. “Come on, you two - we’re gonna be late!”