#robo-cryptid

“It’s not like him,” mutters Angela, a little too opaque to show any judgment.Hanzo’s judgment, however, is very clear; he snorts loud enough for even Winston to look over, and he’s all the way up in the box with Mei.“I’m sure he’s just puttin’ the finishing touches on things,” Jesse drawls, nudging his boot into the concrete to scratch an itch on his heel.

“My brother is not one for keeping to a schedule,” says Hanzo. The effort to keep any bitterness out of his tone must’ve been monumental.

Jesse’s a quickdraw with more than a gun, so he’s a little miffed when Reinhardt gets to be magnanimous before he can: “I have seen people change in greater ways and in far less time  than in our Genji.” He clasps a hand on Hanzo’s shoulder and Jesse feels even more miffed when the archer doesn’t bristle and brush Reinhardt away like his usual character would dictate. “Perhaps he will surprise you.”

Hanzo seems to hum and cough at the same time. Reinhardt takes his hand back and Jesse licks his teeth behind his lips. “Dunno ‘bout that, Rein. Dickin’ off to meditate is still dickin’ off.”But both Reinhardt and Hanzo give him looks of disappointment and displeasure, respectively. Jesse coos out air like the room is getting hot, looking up at nothing, then turns instead to Angela, who is masterfully ignoring the entire situation.

“You get those new bio-shots in yet, doc?”“Not yet. But the shipment should come any day now. It’s not unusual for that kind of order to take so long. I once tried to have two gallons of e-CTM delivered to a safe house in Bucharest and the driver—”“Oh thank Christ,” Jesse mutters when Genji jogs into the room.“Forgive my lateness,” says Genji. “Torbjorn had not yet finished our suits.”The whole team squints at him. “Suits?” says Reinhardt.

Genji sets down twin crates and hits a button on their sides to let them snap open. “Winston wanted me to set the environment today, so I decided on fire.”Hanzo scoffs even louder than before. Jesse gets the feeling there’s some joke he’s not in on.Reinhardt, ever doe-eyed, persists: “fire?”“Yes. But these suits are not fire-repellant. They are fire-attractive.”Angela actually sounds intrigued, if a tad apprehensive: “come again?”“They will attract fire.” Genji takes out a suit and holds it up; it looks like a Tour de France onesie, only with far shorter shorts. Jesse thinks he’d be shocked if they even cleared his inner thighs. “Particularly to the torso and head.”“Gotta be shittin’ me,” mutters Jesse, turning away, spurs clicking.“Ridiculous,” rumbles Hanzo.“I do not see why I deserve such dissent,” Genji says, his robotic voice a lofty, melodic drawl. “I have designed this course to mimic the eventuality of a burning building. Something most of you would have difficulty overcoming,” he adds with a carefree lilt and tilt of his head. He leans towards the room com link on the wall and holds down the button, carrying his voice to the box above as well as the entire room. “Winston, Mei—you’ll find the simulation code under command 12-A.”

“If you are selecting an environment in which you are already an expert,” Hanzo drawls back, his own voice the total opposite of carefree, “then what is the point of your participating?”“It will still be a challenge for me. I have not been in the position of having to assist other teammates during a battle for a long time.”“Yes,” Hanzo crosses his arms, and Jesse pre-winces before the man even finishes, “Your position is more often far behind enemy lines, getting yourself injured and then calling for help.”Genji crosses his arms, too, though he keeps his tone light. “Now, brother. That was long ago.”“So that has never happened, then?” Hanzo quickly fixes his intense gaze on Angela, who hesitates just one second too long; Hanzo looks back at Genji with the most superior smirk Jesse has ever seen.Genji rolls back one shoulder, seemingly unperturbed. It’s hard to tell with the mask. “Overwatch is based on teamwork. We have all been in the position of requiring help from time to time. That is the reality of working with others—something that you, perhaps, could benefit to learn.”“I have worked in groups many times, as you are well aware.”“And the general of a group, what is their position, often?”“I do not have to explain myself to you.”“No, you just need to adhere to the new order of things.”“You should adhere to—”“I can’t wear that!”Everyone turns to look at Jesse.

The gunslinger clears his throat—he hadn’t really meant to shout—and squares his hips towards Genji. “I can’t put that on.”Genji lowers his arms and puts one hand on his hip, obviously sensing another mutineer. “And why not?”“There’s no way those things ain’t gonna ride up my groin like they’re goin’ for a chokehold. You ever see those boxer-briefs where the legs are just a tad too short on a guy with big thighs? Turn into tighty-whities before you can—”“Oh, please,” says Angela, barely suppressing an amused, if a little grossed-out grin. “I’ve seen you wear far more uncomfortable things for a mission, Jesse. It will only be for a couple hours.”“Certainly!” Reinhardt half-lifts his axe, “Remember those wet-suits in the North Sea? I could hardly breathe! And we were in those all day. Also, my thighs are far—”“Well I wasn’t dealin’ with localized bodily damage at the time, Rein.”“Damage?” Angela looks him up and down. “Are you hurt?”“Naw,” Jesse pulls the brim of his hat down, which he quickly realizes he should not have done, because most of them know him well enough to take that as a clear signal that he is hiding something. “I mean… not in any… it wouldn’t interfere.”

“It seems to be interfering now,” says Genji.“Jesse, if you are injured, you cannot just keep it to yourself. What if we had to ship out today?”“Tell us what it is, Jesse,” says Winston over the room com. “Better to take care of it now.”“It don’t need takin’ care of!” Jesse grumbles, his voice growing louder without his consent. “I just… I can’t be wearin’ shit like that.”Genji looks at the suit still in his hand, then slowly back at Jesse, who feels all the hairs on his arms stand up. “Is it a…” He gestures vaguely to his own pelvic area.“No! Jesus. I mean… not in the way you’re…”

Jesse’s throat closes up as he realizes the deep, deep hole he’s dug under his own feet. Everyone is staring at him with varying levels of suspicion, except for Hanzo, whose face looks more like… alarm? Apprehension?

Jesse sighs. Just get it over with.

He mumbles under his breath.“Sorry?” says Angela. Genji takes a step closer.“I sun-burned my perinmhihmm,” Jesse mutters a little louder, still barely legible.“Wait,” says Genji, who physically removes the com-link from the wall and holds it up to Jesse’s mouth, holding down the button so that his voice echoes like God’s judgment. “Can you just,” the cyborg almost trips over his barely-suppressed laughter, “Can you repeat that please Jesse?”Jesse stares him dead in his green-lit visor and, in his most confident drawl, announces to the entire room: “my pucker hole is crazy burned.”

The laughter hits them all differently: Genji’s head flies backwards with a sharp bark that dissolves into ludicrous snorting, Reinhardt brays one loud note that bounces off the walls again and again, Angela covers her mouth and laughs until Jesse sees her whole face turn red, and Hanzo, also hiding his mouth with his hand, lets his chuckles mostly just shake around inside his chest. He’s the only one who doesn’t look away from Jesse.

“Alright.” Jesse looks up towards the box where Mei is leaning over a console as if having a heart attack and Winston is trying to make sure she’s okay through his own chortling. “Alright, now. Ain’t that goddamn funny.”“Are you shitting me?” Genji, barely able to stay upright, shakes his open hand fingertips-first at Jesse, “How? How could that have possibly happened?”“It’s… it’s a type a’yoga! Shit. You never heard of it?” Jesse puts his hands on his hips, decides he might as well own it. “S’called ‘perineum sunning.’” While Genji collapses into laughter all over again, he goes on, “S’all about absorbing the sun into your body through your… your grundle.” Genji is almost on the floor now, repeating the word ‘grundle’ to himself like it’s a holy mantra. “I been having, y’know, trouble sleepin’ and the like… thought it’d boost my auric field with the power o’the sun and whatnot. Keep my life force from leaking out and all.”Now Genji is repeating ‘leaking’ to himself in a very high-pitched voice while Angela, bless her, manages enough self-control to speak. “Joking aside… Jesse, that does sound serious. Have you… done anything…?”“No! What am I supposed to do? Stick a biotic emitter up there and hope for the best?”“N-no,” says Angela, still fighting giggles but blessedly stepping in front of Reinhardt and Genji, who are both using Reinhardt’s hammer as a kind of crutch for their hysterics. “But some burn ointment may help. Do you have any aloe vera?”Jesse snorts. “Yeah… probably in my kit somewhere.”“You should apply some. Perhaps… perhaps you should sit out this session to do so. We can… ping Lucio to replace you.”“God, yes, please,” Genji wheezes, “Please let’s bring Lucio out here.”Fully aware that Lucio is not really an appropriate replacement for what he brings to the table, Jesse grumbles a thank-you and turns heel for the door. But right before he exits (since Genji and Reinhardt are still laughing), he sticks his head back in to add: “it’s an ancient fuckin’ Taoist practice!”

-

An hour later, someone knocks at Jesse’s door. He almost ignores it, but at the second knock—faster, snappier—he gets up to at least see who it is. If it’s Genji and Lucio come to taunt him, he can at least open the door with his gun in his hand.But it’s Hanzo, standing all regal with his hands resting inside his kimono jacket. Obviously still amused but doing a good job of trying to hide it. A much more welcome sight, despite everything.

Jesse taps the door command and leans on the frame with as much swagger as he can muster. “Well hey there. Sim went by kinda quick, huh?”“Yes,” says Hanzo, those perfectly-shaped lips toying with a smirk, “It was difficult to achieve adequate team cohesion after your… announcement.”“Well, ain’t my fault we’re workin’ with a couple’a gigglin’ frat boys,” Jesse sighs, stepping aside.

The door hisses shut behind Hanzo, who immediately walks to the console. “Athena, cease surveillance of this room. Command three dash eight hundred and four.”“Confirmed,” says Athena.“Still don’t know how you managed to swipe Winston’s command codes,” chuckles Jesse.“It was a crime of necessity.” Hanzo comes up close, presses against Jesse’s front. Chin tipped up to smirk at him. “I don’t want anyone seeing or hearing what I do to you.”Jesse opens his mouth to agree, but Hanzo seizes that opportunity to plant his own mouth there, tugging down on the gunslinger’s chin to line them up. Their arms wrap, their bodies slot, and Jesse lets out a low rumble of pleasure. Hanzo kisses him slower and warmer than he has yet and the effect is melting. Time goes still and Jesse swears he hears a bird singing.

“Wha,” Jesse clears his throat, when it’s over, looks down at Hanzo from heavy-lidded eyes. “What was that for?”“For lying for me,” Hanzo hums. “I will admit,” He playfully unbuttons Jesse’s flannel shirt, “That was the most unorthodox way of getting out of having to show a hickey I have ever heard of, but I commend your creativity.”“Huh?”Hanzo gently pats Jesse’s cheek, still smiling. “Stay with me, cowboy. I appreciate you keeping our time together a secret. I do not know how the others would have reacted if they saw what I did to your thighs.”“Oh.” Jesse takes a half-step back, still loosely holding Hanzo by the elbow with one hand while the other scratches at a side-burn. “Well… yeah, Han. I know you wanna keep things quiet for now.”“It is for both our benefit,” Hanzo mutters into Jesse’s jaw. “It is… I have never done this before. Nothing like this. I want to take things slowly.”“O’course. I mean, I… y’know I’ve had a shaky run of things, too. Though I’d yell it from the top of the rock this afternoon, if you gave the go-ahead.”Hanzo chuckles, that warm, resonant rumble that Jesse is already falling a little bit in love with. “Perhaps someday.”As he goes to kiss down Jesse’s throat, the gunslinger coughs a little. “Well, there’s… I mean, there’s that, but…”Hanzo’s smile fades as he blinks up at Jesse. A shadow of worry crosses his face and Jesse’s heart spasms in pain. “But what?”Jesse sighs again, only with ten times more despair than in the simulation room.“But I really did burn my pucker hole.”There’s a moment in which Hanzo just stares with gently widened eyes, as if he doesn’t understand. Then a bubble of disbelieving laughter makes his chest contract. “You…” More chuckles bubbles up and Jesse thinks it’d be damn endearing, the way this usually self-controlled man can’t hold back his laughter, if he didn’t feel a very real burn of embarrassment spreading across his own face. Not to mention the burn between his ass cheeks.“You what?” Hanzo asks, as if he is really trying to give Jesse the benefit of the doubt here.

“I went down on you for nigh on an hour yesterday on the top of a cliff with my bare ass pointed at a 3pm sun in the goddamn Mediterranean, Han! What did you think was gonna happen?” Jesse pauses, his eyes fly off somewhere up and to the left, then come back to Hanzo with his tone even higher-pitched: “and you don’t think I’d come up with a better lie than that if I had to!?”

“I didn’t… I am sorry, I did not…” Hanzo is practically choking, his hand slapped up over his mouth again.Jesse sighs. He looks at Hanzo, with his shaking shoulders and his bouncing bang-hair, and a rueful half-smile breaks through his irritation. “S’okay, darlin’. You can laugh. It’s funny.”Then Hanzo lets out a bark of laughter even louder and grander than Genji’s, his head tossing back in a very similar fashion. His hands tremble as they hold onto Jesse’s shirt flaps for dear life. The sight is almost enough to make Jesse forget about the horrible, horrible pain.It’s not long before the archer comes back down to earth. “I,” Hanzo starts, wiping away a tear, “I am deeply sorry for this… for your…”“Yeah, yeah.” Jesse adjusts the waistband of his loose sweatpants, which is about the only article of clothing his ass can stand now. “Never gonna live this one down, y’know that? Genji’s probably gonna bring it up at my goddamn funeral.”“I apologize,” Hanzo says, both hands still holding onto Jesse’s shirt. “Why did you not say something sooner?”“Couldn’t find the right words, I guess.”“‘My pucker hole is crazy burned’ now seem like the only right words.”Jesse scoffs and rolls his eyes and cackles into his hand, then winces as the movement makes his thighs shift too much. Suddenly he turns boyish: “it really hurts, sweetheart.”Then Hanzo draws forward with a sound like a low, rough coo, and smoothes out Jesse’s shirt. “If you are truly in need,” his eyes sweep up to Jesse’s and Jesse can’t express how much that adds to his downstairs discomfort, “I can assist you with that aloe vera.”“Really, Han, you ain’t gotta—”“I insist. It is the least I can do after your…” Hanzo gets closer, smirks with those cat-like eyes dangerously narrowed, “…Skilled favors.”Jesse feels a very different kind of burning and chuckles, looking off to the side. “Aww, Han. I don’t think that’ll be as enjoyable as you’re makin’ it sound…”“I will make it enjoyable.” He lowers his hand and palms over Jesse’s cock to prove his point. Licks Jesse’s bottom lip into his mouth and lets it slide out between his teeth.Well, shit. “Alright,” Jesse sighs, “You insisted and all.”

“I still don’t see the point,” Hanzo murmurs into his comm. The windows across the street remain dark. “Why would I submit to a dare when I can just lie? You don’t have any means to verify that what I say is true.”

“That’s exactly the point.” The new, metallic timbre of Genji’s voice has not changed his ability to produce audible eye rolls, and it still makes Hanzo want to remain obstinate out of spite. “If you decide to play the game, you enter a gentleman’s agreement not to lie. There would really be no point otherwise.”

“So I’m not only expected to give true answers, but also to believe that the others aren’t lying?” he says, mildly incredulous.

“Hanzo ‘Trust Issues’ Shimada, playin’ truth or dare? You’d have more luck with strip poker.”

Hanzo gives McCree a flatly unimpressed stare. McCree smirks and pretends to keep looking through the binoculars.

“It’s a work in progress,” says Genji, unfazed. “If you prefer strip poker, I don’t mind either, I’m safely away from you two, so as long as you don’t try to send me photos —”

This time it’s Hanzo who rolls his eyes. “We’re on a stakeout. No poker.”

“Truth or dare it is, then. Who’s starting?”

“I don’t mind,” says McCree. “Not sure how you want to do dares when we’re stuck on a roof, though.”

“I have faith in you, Jesse. Truth or dare?”

“Truth. I’m feelin’ lucky.”

Hanzo reaches out and taps him on the shoulder, wordlessly extends a hand: someone needs to keep watch. McCree hands over the binoculars, rolls to lie on his back, folds his arms under his head.

“First crush,” says Genji.

McCree huffs. Hanzo resists the urge to check his expression, brings up the binoculars instead. The flat opposite remains annoyingly empty; shame, because it’s getting late, and the concrete roof is not the most comfortable of places to spend the night on.

“Gabriel,” McCree says. Genji makes a strange noise. “Not that Gabriel,” he adds, exasperated. “A buddy in Deadlock. Three years my senior and the biggest ‘no homo’ douchebag the world had ever seen. Got over him pretty quickly, and then he got himself shot. Hanzo: truth or dare?”

“Truth. I have nothing to hide.” Genji emits an obnoxious sound over the comm, which he elects to ignore.

“Really now.” In his peripheral vision, McCree’s head turns; Hanzo steels himself for the inevitable. “Same question, then. Your first crush.”

“Do fictional characters count?”

McCree’s eyebrows go up. “Sure.”

“No they don’t!” Genji protests immediately.

“Why not? A crush is a crush. I asked, so we’re goin’ by my rules. Go on, Hanzo.”

Hanzo chews his lip briefly, fighting an undignified smile. “There was a samurai manga that Genji once showed me —”

“You had a crush on Himura Kenshin?!” Genji exclaims, high-pitched. His tone is so incredulous that Hanzo has to bite the inside of his cheek to sound appropriately serious.

“No, Sagara Sanosuke. Have you never wondered why I was so obsessed with Rurouni Kenshin?”

“I thought it was because the story was cool!” whines Genji. “I can’t believe my brother was gay for my childhood heroes. I feel so dirty now.”

“I admit, Sanosuke did play a major part in my journey to discovering my sexuality,” Hanzo says, straight faced and dignified, and relishes the sounds of utter distress that come over the comm.

Next to him, McCree shakes with quiet laughter; when he sees Hanzo looking, he extends a fist with a grin. It would be rude to ignore it. Hanzo reaches out and delicately bumps his knuckles against McCree’s metal ones.

“Genji. Same question, unless you prefer a dare.”

Genji emits one last disgusted 'ugh’ before replying. “Haiji, our cook. She was amazing. Scarier than most of Father’s kobun, and cooked better than anyone I’ve ever met. I wonder what became of her. Hanzo: truth or dare?”

“I told you, I have nothing to hide—”

“Yeah, yeah. We’ll see about that. Your most recent crush.”

Hanzo’s ears become suddenly, uncomfortably warm. “That… is personal,” he manages, cursing himself for that little stammer.

“That’s the point,” his brother replies, voice oozing satisfaction and that special, Genji-only brand of cheerful cruelty.

Hanzo wonders if he knows — but no, he can’t, Hanzo’s pretty sure he’s been keeping this firmly under wraps. Genji is perceptive, but not this perceptive. If he managed to miss Hanzo’s incredibly obvious crush on Sagara Sanosuke, then there’s no possibility he’d somehow notice his weakness for a certain black-ops-turned-vigilante.

“I’ll take the dare instead, then” he says, willing his ears to stop burning.

Genji sighs. “Boring. Fine: sing a song.”

Of course he would choose the most humiliating of dares when McCree is right next to Hanzo and watching.

“You know I’m practically tone deaf,” he says flatly.

“Yes, and your vocal range is abysmal, I know. You deserve to suffer for bailing out.”

“I’m afraid you’ll be the one suffering.” Hanzo takes a deep breath, thinks for a moment. “Any song?”

“It has to have vocals,” Genji adds quickly. “No humming.”

“Cover your ears, McCree,” Hanzo says grimly, steeling himself. Unexpectedly, McCree does just that: he pulls the comm out and sticks both index fingers in his ears. Strangely, it makes Hanzo feel slightly better. He reminds himself that he survived actual torture in the past, takes a deep breath and begins.

“Hey Jude, don’t make it bad,Take a sad song and make it better…”

It’s one of about five songs in existence that he’s capable of singing without making a complete fool of himself. McCree’s smile widens — of course he cheated — but before Hanzo can choke on shame, McCree does the last thing he could have expected: he joins. His soft baritone is much better suited for the song than Hanzo’s raspy, sharp voice, not to mention that McCree can actually sing and has occasionally done so in the past; not singing alone helps a lot, and they go through two whole verses before McCree stops, chuckles and admits he doesn’t remember the rest.

“Good, because I can’t do the next verse with my voice,” says Hanzo, incredibly relieved.

McCree beams at him, sticking the comm back in his ear. “Love that song. Been ages since I heard it. And your voice ain’t that bad, you just need more practice.”

Genji’s being suspiciously quiet on the comms. Hanzo wonders if he chickened out of listening.

“McCree, truth or —”

“Dare,” says McCree immediately.

Hanzo has a challenge ready, and he can’t wait. “Compose a haiku.”

McCree makes a betrayed face. “I sang with you and that’s how you repay me?”

Hanzo suddenly remembers that this is supposed to be a stakeout and brings the binoculars to his eyes, mildly ashamed of himself. Fortunately, they managed not to miss anything, the windows are still dark and the flat is empty; it’s starting to look like their suspect might be spending the night somewhere else, which, considering it’s Friday, is not entirely impossible.

“The five-seven-five syllables thing is not a hard requirement, is it?” McCree asks slowly. Hanzo knows that tone well: McCree is planning something and he thinks it’s going to be hilarious.

“Haiku should be a short and elegant observation about a fleeting moment that involves nature in some manner. And yes, the syllable requirement is secondary when composing in English.”

“Alright. I got one, very elegant.” McCree clears his throat theatrically. Hanzo turns to look, sees the signature shit-eating grin, and can’t help an answering smirk in anticipation of something truly awful.

“Roses are red. Violets are blue. It’s snowin’ on Mount Fuji,” McCree recites in a voice as serious as he can manage through the grin.

Hanzo shudders with disgust and starts laughing, and in his ear, Genji snorts too.

“No laughin’ at my poetry! That was straight from the depths of my heart, you heathens. Genji! Truth again?”

“Sure,” says Genji. “My last crush is Lúcio, the suspect just arrived at my location, and you two are disgustingly hopeless. Go on a date or something, for god’s sake. I’ve got this covered. Over and out.”

Hanzo freezes with absolutely no idea what to say or do, and since remotely strangling Genji is out of the question, he busies himself with folding and pocketing the binoculars, instead.

“Well, it’s still early,” McCree says after a few seconds, carefully neutral. “Wouldn’t mind grabbin’ a bite. Wanna come?”

Hanzo turns towards him and hesitates, teetering on the precipice of the unknown.

McCree stands up, pulls out the comm, pockets it, reaches out. “C'mon,” he says, quieter, and winks. “I’ll sing you another song if you come.”

Hanzo looks at the outstretched hand and up, at the whiskey-brown eyes and the crow’s feet, the shaggy beard and the smile. “I don’t compose poetry until the third date,” he says, and McCree laughs and pulls him up.

On the way to the burger joint, McCree sings “I Want To Break Free,” complete with a partial reenactment of the music video.

Hanzo moving with more tenderness than Jesse thought possible.  Hanzo with his beautiful puffy hair hanging loose because he can feel it ticking his back.  Hanzo practically worshiping him in the early morning of their vacation- if it can be called that.  Is it really a vacation if it was forced upon you by your teammates who were tired of you being quote “disgustingly affectionate every hour of the day” and needing a break for just a week?

Jesse lets out a happy rumble and cracks open his eyes, only to close them again when he finds out how bright it is.  That is not early morning sun, that is late morning sun.

“Good morning,” Hanzo says in between kisses.

“Mornin’.  What time is it?”

“I do not know, but it does not matter.  This is the first time in three months that I get you all to myself all day and I do not plan for that to go to waste.”

“Mmmm, I like the sound of that.”

Jesse braves opening his eyes again and catches sight of the bedside clock.  Wait- that can’t be right.  Is it really 10am?  Holy shit he overslept.  To be fair, Hanzo did a very good job of wearing him out last night but despite how exhausted he’s been in the past, he’s always been awake by 6am.  Running for his life, ridgid military schedules, needing to pull his weight in the gang, living on a ranch; no matter the circumstance he’s always been up by 6 and ready to go by 6:15.

Jesse lets out a little huff of laughter and, much to his dismay, Hanzo pulls back.

“What is so funny?”

Jesse taps at Hanzo’s hip to give him enough space to turn over onto his back and gets his first look of the day of his boyfriend.  

Even more beautiful than he could have imagined.

“Oh nothin’, jus’ can’t remember the last time I slept in that wasn’t medically induced.”

“Are you complaining?”

“Nah, especially when I’m getting woken up like this.”

Hanzo leans back down to settle on Jesse’s chest with a smug little smile.

“Like what exactly?”

Jesse drags his hand up to run his fingers up and down Hanzo’s long spine.

“With the most beautiful man in the world lookin’ at me with those big brown eyes and cute smile.”

“Hmmm, while I do love what you are saying, I believe you might require some more convincing.”

“Well you know me, I never turn down a second opinion.”