KILLER. * ⁽ ᴬᴾ⋅ ⁾

                   𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐈𝐒   more daunting than he remembers. in the Deadlock gang, where his word had been law, the pressure was not nearly the same; he did not wake every day with the weight of lives pulling at his shoulders, or the knowledge that his decisions could get all that mattered to him killed. maybe he was too SELFISH to think about it then ― maybe he’s finally grown up. it isn’t such a comforting thought now, as he feels the world uncomfortably settling in the curve of his back, but he thinks it nonetheless.

         the words my darling dip so gently into his head and pull him out of his thoughts, heart fluttering in his chest like it does every single time. two words with so much power, perhaps now more than ever; Cassidy longs not to be a leader or a HERO here, in his lover’s arms. instead he remains one of his ever few constants: your darling, his darling. a smile pulls at his lips as he hugs the other close, nuzzling into the crook of his neck and drinking in every ounce of him.

         ❝  a  welcome  distraction,  i  reckon.  HATE  when  you’re  gone  that  long.  ❞   comes soft hum, hazel eyes closing for but a moment, sighing softly in a chuckle. it’s the truth; his world is always brighter when Hanzo is in it, regardless of the circumstances. if not that Genji were his brother, Cassidy might have loathed him for stealing him away for so long. nonetheless, gunslinger huffs gently.   ❝  NEW  BLOODS  ‘re  keepin’  me  on  my  toes.  lotsa  trainin’,  takin’  ‘em  on  missions  is  like  herdin’  cats,  but  …  they’re  learnin’.  they’re  all  itchin’  to  get  out  there,  ‘n  honestly,  so  am  i  …  ❞

         Cassidy gives a momentary pause, pulling back to regard him in full once more. brow furrows slightly, flesh hand raising to caress gently at the archer’s cheek, slight frown tugging at the corner of his lips.   ❝  …  but  Genji  said  ya  got  HURT  at  the  debrief.  you’ve  been  to  see  Angie  already,  right  ??    nothin’  too  bad  i  hope  ??  ❞

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 of him that once thought he would never be capable of love. Thinking that the day he’d taken Genji’s life, was the day he’d forgotten how to love, or be loved in turn. How he’d come to believe that a man, so capable of killing his own, would ever be deserving of a happy ending- or a new beginning.  It was Cassidy, through trial and error, that made him believe he was someone worth loving. 

     “Rest easy now, I have no intention of leaving your side for some time. I would like to think I’ve done my duty- assisted my brother, helped put his mind at ease...” He was still reluctant to call himself a member of Overwatch- but never hesitated helping those he loved when called upon. Arms slipped around him at the thought, burying his nose into his hair, breathing in the scent he often dreamt about each night he was away. Leather and gunpowder, cigar smoke and a warm spice from his cologne. All so unmistakably him- the thought that left a smile hidden from sight as he hugged him tight. “You were once just like them, perhaps not so willing to join the cause as they are, but they find inspiration from your leadership- I have no doubt in that. You inspire them all to do better, give them the hope and courage they need. An admirable thing, one not many are capable of. But soon enough you’ll regret those words, wishing you could go back to simpler times as these…” 

                    𝐈𝐓 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐒   like it’s been forever since it’s been just them; the world has needed them both, in all of its greed and wanting. such need will never end, Jesse knows, because it is CRUEL and no one nowhere is ever devoid of needing help. but he tries to push the growing distress in the sentiment aside. there isn’t time ― not now, having finally been spared a moment alone with HIS world … and the sun, and maybe even the stars, too.

          ❝  Hanzo,  ❞   comes soft murmur like a prayer as he approaches, strong arms winding tight around the archer’s middle from behind. the relaxation he feels in the other’s presence is immediate, shoulders sagging as if RELIEVED from an immense weight. Jesse’s lips press to his temple and he sighs with tangible joy, tired as he may be.   ❝  honeybee  …  i  missed  you,  so  much.  ❞

     𝐈𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐃 with a simple request, unaware that one mere task would turn into a great many more. His brother called upon him in his time of need, and how he felt a sense of duty, responsibility to assist him. A recon mission, nothing more. A lie- something the sparrow was always far too good at, pulling him into a great many missions he knew Genji could not complete alone. Days to weeks- and weeks to months, a sense of longing for the one he could not have began to spread. Akin to a slow spreading poison, shot through the heart and spreading like blood through a thick wool- the ache for his lover felt worse than any physical wounds he gained in his time away. 

     It was only his love that could mend this pain, and felt a sense of relief in knowing that for once he was not needed. Dismissed, on a temporary leave after a moment of vulnerability left him limping from a bullet that had scathed him from his recent mission in Nepal. It gave him time to practice and reflect, but more importantly be back in his lover’s arms once again. To think that even with his back to him, he would simply know him blind. The way the scent of a cigarillo cigar lingered on everything he wore- the heavy footfalls and jingling of spurs always announcing his presence without needing to say a word. Eyes closed, and with a rise and fall of his chest, he felt him slot so perfectly into place. 

     “HM....”  He hadn’t told him of his return, knowing his role within Overwatch was one too great to tear him away from. It was not his place to cause distraction, hence why he retired to their shared quarters for the evening without an announcement or word. Of course he’d find out eventually, the tone in his voice leaving a warmth spreading throughout his chest, soothing the ache that began to dwindle and fade away just being close to him again. 

     “Cassidy… my darling.” To think, once there was a time he may have curled his lip in disgust at such pet names, but now welcomed them, didn’t recoil from his touch or shy from contact any longer. He craved him, causing him to turn in his arms to face him, fingers lost in a mess of wild hair as he spoke. “Surely you were busy enough, my company would have merely been a distraction to your work...” A tease, as if he was capable of being one. He knew well it was no excuse to keep them apart. 

a click of his tongue, metal fingers drumming lightly against his husband’s leg. he knows that LOOK well enough, after all this time. all in all though, that’s a bit of a loaded question; does he MISS her? has he ever? maybe, maybe not. it’s hard for even him to say, because his OWN mind has struggled to come to such a decision even all these years later. there wasn’t much of that life he lived with her to miss, two dumb KIDS getting in way over their heads because there was nowhere else to turn. there is a moment of silence, despite its brief longevity, where the air feels just a tad HEAVY.

❛ … i don’t think so. i mean, there are times i wish things had been DIFFERENT; but at the end of the day, she ‘n i didn’t see eye-to-eye no more and that’s just what it was.❜  he says it with a shrug, like it’s NOTHING. at this point, maybe it is; but it wasn’t always, oh no. and for a moment, maybe it shows. the faraway look on his face hints at something GREATER, a pondering he will never have answers for. an old, dead hope.  ❛ we were close, wouldn’t have hesitated to call her my SISTER back then. but it ain’t gonna be like that again, y’know? she chose her life and i chose mine. sometimes ya just gotta let’em go, han, even if you don’t wanna.❜

a soft pause, perhaps lamenting of what COULDN’T be.  ❛you know what, though? that ain’t even my picture. ‘ he motions to the photo in hanzo’s hands.  ❛ it was HERS… had it on the display of her bike when i saw her.❜

“Hm...”

His words hung heavy in the air, like that of a bell ringing, leaving a long and resonating sound in the silence as it faded through space and time. It was the truth in his words that caused such weight, knowing all to well what it meant to let go of those you loved most. Surely his love for Ashe was no different than that of his own brother, father- even mother. All of which he loved and lost the same, some more painful than others. The brief flash of a bright eyed sparrow with a green crop of hair flickering behind his closed eyes, knowing Genji was no doubt a similar instance to Ashe in that sense. Both held such a place in their hearts, and hurt all the same to say goodbye. Differences being their downfall, but knowing that maybe in letting them go, they were able to become their better selves, on both sides of the board. He’d seen the way Genji had grown, found peace and happiness in his life he found himself envious of- surely Ashe was in a similar place, no longer having the gunslinger at her side.

Jesse’s touch was grounding, the gentle rhythmic pattern bringing him back to the present as his gaze flickered toward his tanned complexion. It seemed he too was dwelling on the past, seeing the creases at the corners of his eyes show when they narrowed, knowing it meant he was thinking, intently, his gaze so soft, he knew how easily he could be lost in those eyes of his. One hand moved over the one that rested upon his thigh, fingertips tracing over his calloused palm as he filled the negative spaces between his fingers. 

“I think... that I’m finally learning to let go. For so many years a weight lingered, like stones in my chest, a pain I thought I could never release. But now I see there is more to life than carrying the memories of those that held us down.” His father coming to mind first and foremost- then Genji’s death which quickly followed, but seeing him happy began to change his view for the first time in a long, long time. “I believe these people we left behind, helped us discover who we are now. If not for that grief, I never would have found you. Looking back on it now, I would not change the events that led me to where I am now- here- with you.”

                    𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐋 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒  tapped restlessly against his forearm, sitting on hanzo’s bed in silent vigil. the archer was packing for his next mission ― jesse would NOT be joining him, much to his own chagrin. the outlaw had been very clear in his request to winston that they be scheduled and assigned TOGETHER, as it was easier to watch out for each other that way, but every protest mccree had made in this case had been shot down. winston’s defense was that they needed to do this quietly ― the shimada brothers, who he had elected to send, were qualified for that. jesse, despite the YEARS he spent running covert operations for blackwatch, was not … he had given winston HELL about it, but there was no changing his mind. something about he and hanzo and their capability to be flexible with whoever their partners were. jesse walked out then, leaving a muttered TRAIL of expletives and curses behind him.

          it wasn’t that he didn’t trust genji ― he did, wholeheartedly. but there had been direct TALON involvement in the area as recently as a few weeks ago, and jesse just didn’t trust it. something was OFF. but his gut feeling was not adequate evidence for winston or any of the commanders … hell, it was hardly enough for JESSE. but it felt wrong enough that the slow creep of dread in the depths of his being was impossible to ignore, more so as the time for departure came CLOSER.

          he tried to ignore the anxiety gnawing at his skull as he watched hanzo put his bag together. hazel hues focused on the bow leaning against the wall before shifting once more to the man before him, chewing idly at his lower lip. jesse swung his foot off the bed to nudge the other’s ankle as he passed, eyes betraying his FONDNESS.

❝ sure ya don’t wanna take a serape, han ??  heard it might be chilly, wouldn’t want ya to get cold … ❞

When it came to earthly possessions, how he held little to his name. Such as it was, living the life of a drifter- no longer having a home to call his own. A man on the run, often lived life out of a bag, only bringing that which he could carry on his back, and knowing well just how quickly he could lose everything, and be left on the run once more. It was the first time in fact, in years that he felt somewhat secure. A bed to call his own, consistent meals and familiar faces- how he’d often wake in the night with fear in his heart that it was all just a dream. Until the man beside him anchored him, pulling him back to the present in the dark of night- his voice something to focus on, reeling him into the present. 

This was one of those moments, when his mind was churning like a storm at sea, his hands busy folding, pressing, smoothing out the wrinkles in each shirt, tracing seams on clothes as they fit like a puzzle, perfectly into his bag. It was only in hearing the sound of his voice that he felt as though he shifted back into the room, mentally at least, that distant look in his eyes lifting like a fog as he turned to gaze at the gunslinger before him. Worried, no doubt just as much as he was, clear in the way he fidgeted before him on the bed. He had every right to be nervous, he couldn’t help but think, knowing well he’d had many encounters with Talon- even more than those Jesse was around to witness. Akande was persistent, and didn’t like to take no for an answer. How he couldn’t help but wonder, if they’d done the same to his father, refusing alliance meaning death to his elder- and perhaps death for him as well.

“And what would you have me do, steal the one I know you’re so fond of?” The one he’d been known for, the one he was never seen without, A splash of red and earthy hues, like fire to his water, their opposites seeming to mesh so well together. How the thought alone left the corner of his mouth upturning, his feet quiet as he closed the space between them, sitting himself on his long legs as a makeshift seat. Arms moved around his neck, facing toward him as he spoke.

                   𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐈𝐍 𝐆𝐈𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐀𝐑 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍, 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄.   the outlaw had sworn when he left that he would NEVER come back; overwatch was little more than bad memories of a family that had FORGOTTEN him in its dysfunction. he missed it all much more than he’d ever say he did, though, and that’s the TRUTH of why he returned. new faces and old welcomed his help, as UNOFFICIAL as it was … and among them was the older shimada brother, the one he’d always had such a MONSTROUS vision of in his head.

         hanzo had proven himself to be damn good at his job, this past week ― and he wasn’t bad COMPANY, either. jesse was almost surprised at how well they got on, considering the circumstances; he had even offered his company OUTSIDE of the duties overwatch required of them. he didn’t expect hanzo  ( or anyone, truthfully )  to take him up on that, and so he was prepared to turn his visitor away in hopes of FINALLY getting some rest. but when mccree heard him speak, cigar lolling in the corner of his mouth as he paused in watering the succulents in the windowsill, he turned to greet him with a SIGNATURE smile.

❝ well, i’ll be … a drink don’t sound half bad ― i reckon we’ve EARNED it. c’mon in. ❞

It was the trickling sound of water that caught his attention, gaze quick and attentive as he watched for a moment, surprised at the sight before him. He never would have taken him for a man that enjoyed such simplicities, such as caring for a plant- nursing a thing so delicate. The hands of a killer, showing tenderness and compassion, how the thought left his gaze dropping to the floor, if only for a moment, before dark eyes met his gaze. The rolling cigar was a distraction, the smoke wafting from the cigar clouding his face with a gentle haze. How his jaw tensed at the sight, wondering if maybe he’d walked in on him during a vulnerable moment- caught off guard, yet still so warm... welcoming. It was a thing he’d not experienced since he was a child, if he could remember such a thing at all. 

He had the look of a killer, that much he could tell. Grating voice, haunting eyes, even the way he walked felt much like a predator, stalking its prey. Assassin encountering assassin- two artists from two different walks of life. Always so difficult to tell if friend or foe-- too many times being stabbed in the back, knowing well there were many out there who wanted him dead. Who’s to say he wasn’t one of those men. The price on his head was heavy, reason why he held his guard, steel gaze never wavering as he watched his every move.

He’s silent as he enters, like a shadow on the wall, not a sound to be heard as he studied the gunslinger’s living space. The most interesting thing about Watchpoint: Gibraltar- each private quarter giving hindsight into a person’s history, what they deemed important enough to carry with them in as they ventured out to join the newly founded group. Overwatch- not that he cared to be a part of it, in fact, when the chance would arise and he was no longer needed- he’d be gone. There were few reasons to stick around but he- Jesse- he was one of them.

Why he’d contemplated approaching him at all, worried perhaps he was a nuisance even coming to him at all. A long week of traveling, killing, recovering items Overwatch deemed useful- he was worried he’d had his fill. ‘My door’s always open Shimada-’ he’d heard him offer time and time again. So to find it unlocked, as if expecting him was the only reason he had confidence to enter his space at all. The lingering scent of cigar smoke, left a feeling of comfort, running warm through his veins. Bottle of sake clinked against the glasses in hand, as if a warning that he was near before choosing to speak up. 

a part of him wanted to interrupt this sentimental talk and ask hanzo to PINCH him. could he be blamed? their entire conversation thus far was a fleeting DREAM come true. he had always grasped these fantasies as nothing more than what they were: fantasies. yet there sat the light of his life, the sole proprietor of his heart, speaking to him hopefully yet HONESTLY of their future. he knew that it all could change on the whim of a breath; he knew that there was an endless amount of obstacles stacked AGAINST their favor. but in the reflection of those dark eyes he had fallen for so many times over, ANYTHING seemed possible.

❛ i thought for a long time, hanzo, that i… you know, with the way i was carryin’ on, i doubted i would live long enough to think about all this. ❜  BLUNT, yet so blindingly the truth. his voice was soft in a thoughtful way, and his fingers intertwined lightly with his husband’s.  ❛ as far as i was concerned, any notion i had of… LOVE died right with my ma. ‘n again after that bad business in switzerland. ❜

his tongue swiped across his lower lip as he PONDERED. dogs, horses, children… a family. a family he couldn’t have DESERVED; but who would he be to deny hanzo that as well? there was a DEEP breath taken into tired lungs, the pads of his thumbs brushing across the archer’s knuckles in an idle gesture. for a moment he swallowed, considered once more the GRAVITY of all this. children — yet another gift he did not deserve. that was a mountain he had never known how to tackle; a FEAR of being like his own father had plagued him for years. he would not wish that fate upon a single soul. but with his husband at his side, he was sure he could overcome the DEMONS his childhood had left him.

❛ you gave all that back to me. ❜  jesse couldn’t help the little SMILE he gave as he spoke, a chuckle so light that it could have blown away on the breeze.  ❛ you’ve already given me so much, han, and now you’re offerin’ to give me all the things I always wanted but never thought i DESERVED. ‘  the sentiment sent him forward to place a kiss upon the archer’s cheek, sweet and tender.  ❛ if you want a family, you can be damn SURE i’ll start one with ya. so long as i’m with you. ❜

Strange, to think that once they were so similar- one in the same, when it came to the thought of a future. Bleak- nonexistent, knowing both wished for death, but could never have the courage to end it by their own hands. It was as if the universe planned for them to come together- two lost, broken souls coming together, so they might mend over time-- become whole. To once think his fate was a thing so cruel, with no happy ending in sight. Now? A part of him became hopeful, knowing that maybe even men like them could be deserving of their own happy endings. 

How he couldn’t imagine a life without his lover, having no desire to end his story- nor theirs. A new chapter, or perhaps a new journey entirely, their book only just beginning to be written. Fresh ink laid on the page with each passing day, and for once he felt optimistic of what may come. Having children, which held resemblance to his husband, soft brown eyes that wrinkled at the edges with a smile. Freckles and tanned skin, growing old somewhere hot- where no one knew either of their names. The thought alone left a soft and dreamy look in his eyes, brow creasing at the thought. Never was he a romantic man, never cared for such fantasies- the sort of things his father would tell him, that he’d given up on long ago. Yet all it took was one man to come and turn all that around, his heart skipping beat- much like his younger self, wide eyed and captivated when hearing tales of such happy endings like they spoke of. A part of himself he once thought died- being brought back to life, by the mere touch of his hand, his voice- his promises of a life that would one day come. 

Lashes dusted his cheek as the scent of cigar filled his senses, his lover’s breath lingering close enough to leave his skin alight with desire. He didn’t flinch nor pull away, but instead, carefully, allowed himself to lean against the gunslinger, settling his weight into his side, his head resting against his shoulder with a hum. Opening up to him in such subtle ways, with the way he’d close the space between them, turning in towards him as his legs draped over his lap. 

he’s jostled awake by sudden movement ( and then loss ) of makeshift pillow atop other’s chest ( despite archer’s best efforts to shift out from under him gently ); lithe digits of organic hand curling ‘round other’s wrist in a poor attempt to get him to STAY, but to no avail as grip is quick to slip ( the junker too tired to get a good hold ). weight beside him, along with the WARMTH that came with another, leaves, and with effort does he push himself to sit up; eyes still closed as he fights to wake up more — a quiet groan of protest leaving him.

❝ ‘s too early t’be up righ’ now, ain’t it ? ❞ voice hoarse, thick with sleep, he slumps forward just a tad; idle fingers toying with the fabric of blanket laying over top him. ❝ come back t’bed —— jus’ five more minutes. ❞ 

    & *   @uchitoru·. 

There was a sudden force that held him to the bed, a tender grip to take hold- grounding him to the moment he tried so carefully to escape from. It was not to say he didn’t enjoy it- but knew the sun was rising, and the longer he kept to the confines of their bed, the more likely they’d never leave their hotel room for the day. Too many days he’d spent like that- and it was only now that the company of the junker gave him the motivation to get out of bed in the morning. 

very few chances had ever arisen in jesse’s life to be soft like this— with even fewer PEOPLE. something he had spent an eternity longing for without even realizing, a simple wish for closeness, a wanting for something that made him feel less like a wandering KILLER and more like a person. hanzo had given him so many of these CHANCES to be soft, to sit and watch the sun sink over the edge of the horizon while the cowboy strummed at his guitar… the ring on his finger represented a mere FRACTION of what that all meant to him.

hazel eyes raised to regard his husband’s voice, and jesse’s fingers paused in their plucking. it was not often that hanzo DAY—DREAMED, an occurrence rare enough that jesse knew there was something on his mind. he watched with ADORATION as the setting sun reflected in hanzo’s eyes, listening to every word as he spoke it. a living, breathing work of art, one that held the outlaw’s very HEART in his hand. being so absorbed in him combined with the gravity of the question itself kept jesse silent for a beat.

truth be told, he had never thought he would LIVE long enough to ponder the possibilities. jesse never expected to be married, to settle down, to ever have a life that was… NORMAL. head turned to watch the sky as he gathered his thoughts, his eyes found his way back to hanzo when he spoke.

❛ … certainly is, darlin’. i mean… it never seemed like anythin’ more than DREAMIN’, y’know? there have been a few times where i’ve thought… i dunno, maybe we could head down to new mexico, find a house. start a little RANCH, get some dogs and some animals, maybe… y’know.❜  flesh hand raised, he tucked his shaggy hair behind his ear with a defined SHYNESS.  ❛ what about you? what’s been goin’ on in that pretty head of yours?❜

New Mexico- a place he’d not yet traveled, but he’d heard stories, from Jesse himself- knowing well that if it was a place he’d call home... surely he himself would come to love it too. After all, any place was home so long as Jesse was at his side, never finding such comfort in walls or a set place since he was a very young boy. How the world had changed his views- once he’d traveled away from Hanamura- for was that house ever really a home? The Shimada castle just that- a place of luxury, but no real love lingered in those halls. Never could he recall a time where he felt so safe- so much joy as he did with Jesse now. Home was him, his being like a bright ray of sunshine, warming him to the core, love flowing like honey through his veins, so slow and sweet. Perhaps it was love to blame, for such soft fantasies- but to know he wasn’t alone, brought peace of mind to say the least. 

“I always believed a man like me could not find happiness, that it was written in blood- a fate, where I might walk alone, forever.” Brow knit tightly as his mind wandered, his gaze steady on the horizon, as if looking for the right words to say. Never one much for sentimental talk, it took him a moment, gathering his thoughts, before turning to meet his gaze. “Then I met you, Jesse. Now, a part of me wants to believe we do deserve a happy ending. We have suffered enough, for one life- with luck our next will be easier.”

Still the question hung in the air- what lingered in the back of his mind. Difficult at times to be direct about a subject so tender- he found himself lost in the moment. How unaware Jesse was, of what a gift he was- a thing of beauty, down to every little detail. The jagged scar on his cheek, the way strands of hair still continued to fall out of place. How it caused him to reach out, brushing them back once more from his sun kissed face. How he’d never tire of such a sight, knowing well it would only get better with age. 

His reaction is a subtle one, something so easily missed, were one not paying close attention. More often than not his expression remained unreadable, stern, the ever present crease in his brow seeming to never fade. There were times, so few and far between that it could ever be changed. Yet around her, seemed to be one of those rare instances, her presence light a ray of sunlight in an ever cloudy day. Always so full of energy, bringing life into a room without hardly trying. 

Yet her challenge was one that left him taking pause, brow slow to lift as he studied her a moment in the silence. Such confidence in herself, a part of him wondered if she saw her self immortal. Teetering on the fine line between confident and cocky, a part of him wondered if such a challenge would put her in her place- or something far worse. A hospital bed, more likely- or if he really tried with his accuracy- well, safe to say she wouldn’t be recovering at all. 

An arrow spun between his fingertips, bow heavy in hand as he weighed the chances and odds of her success. He liked her, enjoyed her company- for the most part, so to harm her was something he cared not to do. Yet the thought of her attempting to outrun something as an arrow? entertaining to say the least. It’s why he hummed then, as if weighing the bet, as well as her chances of success before responding, the hint of a devil’s smile touching his lips.