Chapter Text
Friday 17:32:45 PM
The weather in the Iberian Peninsula is humid and hot and it bothers Hanzo enormously, or perhaps is that itching at the back of his nape that this won’t turn out as seamlessly as the cowboy wants to believe.
They cover the last miles of his trip by motorcycle, a rental, a last-minute whim, but when Hanzo saw McCree’s eyes open wide at the sight of that impressive Harley Davidson and then he imagined himself at his back, throwing his arms around his broad body; well, they are riding to Watchpoint Gibraltar in style.
Hanzo presses his chest against his back, the sun warming them up excessively but the roaring engine between their legs and the endless road soothes him. A couple of hours of just admiring the landscape is relaxing, the helmets and the speed won’t allow conversation, and Hanzo rambles about his worries for far too long.
An intricate road leads to a fence with many warnings, but McCree ignores them blatantly and forces open the rusty lock. Hanzo takes off the helmet, and the cowboy does the same, securing it on his elbow and taking again his place behind the handlebars.
McCree sighs loudly while they travel at low speed inside the complex. Everything looks abandoned, nature has taken over the place and covers old boxes, storage units, and buildings. He thinks about Overwatch’s golden era and if his quarters here are still waiting for him, though his favorite base was the Swiss one; so many good Blackwatch memories there. He senses Hanzo’s distress when he cannot stay still and shifts often in the seat.
“What’s eating ya’ up, darlin’?” McCree asks.
“This is not a good idea, Jesse,” Hanzo says and pushes his forehead between McCree’s shoulder blades.
“I’m with ya’, don’t ya’ wanna see Genji?” McCree says.
“Well… yes,” Hanzo mumbles.
“Ha! You’re nervous!” McCree teases. “Hanzo Shimada is nervous.” He earns a squeeze around his waist that tickles more than anything else. McCree chuckles, recognizing the end of the path and the main building right at the front.
They have seen no one yet, and it worries him. He didn’t want to announce their arrival; they took their time getting here, a much needed time alone to revel in this thing that sparked between them, however, he expected the place to look more welcoming. He parks the bike, stops the engine, and waits for Hanzo to get off first.
A loud, hearty sigh leaves his lungs glancing at the beauty in front of him. The leather smells as though it was new, the tassels on the handlebars, those big wheels made to speed up into the sunset; McCree sighs again and runs shy fingers along the warmed-up seat.
“What is it?” Hanzo asks with a smug smile.
“Damn me, If I ain’t gonna miss this beauty,” McCree says.
“Perhaps I will gift you one for your birthday,” Hanzo teases.
“What are ya’ my sugar daddy now?” McCree says and wiggles his eyebrows.
“You wish,” Hanzo says and allows those muscled arms to wrap around his waist in a close embrace.
“’Cause if my bounty is up to sixty million dollars an’ ya’ have more than that in your bank account…” McCree teases. “I hit the jackpot, sweetheart…”
Hanzo kisses him between chuckles, so accustomed now to the lingering smell of his cigars, to the way he smirks while kissing when he is thinking about naughty stuff and that sweetness that pours out of his tongue whenever it touches his lips. Hanzo melts, wanting this kiss to last forever, dreading the moment they cross that huge door.
This could change everything between them, getting out of their little universe and into Overwatch no less, with his long-lost brother, a bunch of strangers to him but close friends to Jesse. This could go awfully wrong really fast and it has him rattled.
“It’ll be fine, honey bun,” McCree whispers and Hanzo believes him.
McCree leaves the helmets atop the seat and rummages inside the saddlebag for his trustworthy cowboy hat, dusting it lightly before putting it back where it belongs. He winks at Hanzo and steals a half-smile before those lips press into his own, reassuring, soothing because even though he has tried so hard for the past few days to ease Hanzo’s heart he is also nervous about what they will find behind those doors.
Nothing; an empty but cleaned up space, a rudimental kitchen that had seen better days, more boxes and furniture gathered in a corner, and upon the second floor an empty office framed by a broken glass. McCree frowns and pats Peacekeeper, wondering what happened here before their arrival. Perhaps Overwatch is already over before he had time to…
“Agent McCree,” an omnipresent voice greets him. “Our facilities are under maintenance, but I alerted all residing members of your arrival.” McCree chuckles, it has been a long time since he had heard Athena’s voice.
“Thank you kindly,” he says and tips his hat to the ceiling, even though it’s a weird thing to do when talking to an AI. A habit he hasn’t got ridden off, apparently.
McCree leaves his things in a corner and Hanzo does the same, inspecting the place that once had witnessed the glory of Overwatch and now rots abandoned to an unknown future. There is still work to do, and that gives Hanzo a funny feeling of hope that maybe he can do his bit and make right all his wrongs.
“Hanzo,” his brother says, coming down the stairs behind them. “You came.”
Hanzo is unable to suppress the wide smile that comes up his face so unannounced it hurts. He wants to run and hug him, should he? Genji isn’t wearing his helmet, his scarred face in the open, the rest of his body wearing a light armor -what’s underneath, he doesn’t know yet- but those eyes; he’d never forget those kind eyes twins of his own that meet his gaze.
“Genji,” he says, still not believing he is there, trying to push the memories from that night deep inside his heart so he doesn’t crumble into the floor at his presence. He takes a step towards his brother, doubtful.
McCree gets ahead, hugging Genji and lifting him off the ground. The cowboy is happy to see him, of course, he is a good friend, a loving friend that has taken care of his brother all these years when he was unaware of all of it.
“Ha! Ya’ little shit,” McCree says, cheerful to see his friend again after so many years, but Genji squirms out of his hold and grabs him by the shoulders, staring at his left arm.
“What happened to your arm, McCree?” Genji says, astonished. “I told you to take better care or you’ll end up with a body like mine.” He chuckles, but a shiver runs through Hanzo’s spine.
“Oh damn,” McCree says and rubs the back of his neck.
“Wait,” Hanzo says. “I thought this had happened to you while working at Overwatch.”
“The last time I saw him he was in one piece,” Genji says, exchanging a puzzled look with his brother.
“How do you like me now?” McCree says and winks at Genji. “I always admired Torbjorn’s arm, figured I’d get one of my own.”
“He has not arrived yet,” Genji says and sighs, realizing McCree won’t talk about it. “But he will, Brigitte too.”
“Damn, Reinhardt’s goddaughter?” Genji nods enthusiastically.
“But wait until Angie sees your arm, she will scold you for it. As she always says: you really should…”
“… take better care of yourself,” they both say in unison, “like I could forget.”
Hanzo swoons at those happy faces, reunited friends that clearly have missed each other these past years. Life can change in a heartbeat as he has experienced in his own flesh. When he saw Genji at Hanamura, there was a tinge of the little brat he was as a youngster but now he sees a completely different Genji; the same, but more mature, sensible, he likes it. A hint of pride bursts inside him at who his brother is now despite what he has had to overcome.
“Who is Angie?” Hanzo asks and interrupts the gleeful banter.
“Dr. Angela Ziegler,” Genji says while a shy smile twitches his lips up. “The woman that saved my life.”
“In more than one way,” McCree whispers trying to cover his mouth but winking a Genji, who suddenly is red as a beet and it makes Hanzo smile.
“Anyway,” Genji says and clears his throat. “She is in London with Lena but they will be back tomorrow, as you can see we need help around here.”
A huge shadow covers the light seeping through the door and reaches the ceiling so high Hanzo almost tries to fetch an arrow at his back by instinct, remembering then his weapon is on a corner along with the cowboy’s luggage. A gorilla lands gracefully with a big thump and approaches them with a smile that doesn’t suit his menacing appearance.
“Excuse me for dropping in,” Winston says and chuckles, adjusting his glasses. “I came as fast as I could.”
“Hanzo, this is Winston,” Genji hurries to introduce the scientist.
“Nice meeting you,” Hanzo says and bows his head respectfully and Winston mimics him awkwardly, not used to the formalities.
“McCree, nice to see you again,” Winston says, shaking his hand. “And I am looking forward to working with you Mr. Shimada.” And shakes his hand too. Hanzo wasn’t expecting friendliness.
“So, you’re the new boss ‘round here,” McCree says and arches an eyebrow at Winston.
“Oh, please,” Winston coughs uncomfortably. “Mr. Shimada, do you mind coming with me so we can sort your Overwatch profile and give you access to the facilities? I’ll meet you upstairs.”
“Please, you may call me Hanzo,” he says and Winston nods and jumps to the second floor as though he cannot spare a minute without working.
“Ya’ weren’t that quick tellin’ me your name…” McCree mumbles and Hanzo turns bright red at the cowboy’s quip, nudging him when he chuckles. “Sorry, sweetheart.”
Hanzo shakes his head and turns around to climb the stairs and sort out Winston’s request. McCree notices Genji staring and he pushes his shoulder, getting his attention and pointing to Hanzo with his head and a knowing smile. Then Hanzo feels how Genji grasps his elbow and pulls him in a shy hug.
His heart skips a beat at the close contact of his brother, a hug he doesn’t deserve but gives back, a demonstration of love he never thought he’d have again. It’s been ten long years of repenting and he feels as though he is about to fall from a cliff. But this time his brother is there, and so is the cowboy.
“I am glad to have you back, anija,” Genji whispers and it melts his heart.
“Genji…” His brother’s kindness will always amaze Hanzo, even when he was a rebellious teenager not assuming his responsibilities he was good and kind. It gives Hanzo peace of mind that Genji hasn’t lost that virtue because of his actions.
“I have a bottle of our favorite sake,” Genji says, freeing Hanzo from his embrace with a sweet smile plastered on his face. “Perhaps we can share it later.”
“It will be my pleasure,” Hanzo says, trying not to burst into a hysterical laughter at the situation. Somehow, he still dreads waking up from his reverie. He meets the cowboy’s gaze and McCree winks at him. He won’t wake up, this is real.
McCree and Genji watch Hanzo join Winston upstairs and they both sigh. The tension of the moment will fade away eventually and things will go back to normal if they ever were. Hanzo will fit, McCree knows because he sees who he truly is and everyone deserves a second chance, especially in Overwatch.
“So…” Genji says and clears his throat.
“If yer gonna ask ‘bout my arm, I ain’t in the mood,” McCree says and Genji pats his shoulder friendly. “But I will be, just not today.”
“So, you slept with my brother and you are not sorry about it,” Genji teases with a shit-eating grin on his face. McCree laughs, sneaking his thumbs under his belt and shrugging. He won’t lie, the first thing he checked when Genji showed up was if he was wielding his katana.
“We met at a bar in New Mexico,” he says. “When I got the call from Overwatch I panicked and needed to figure things out, ya’ know?”
“At a bar?” Genji says and rolls his eyes at that classic McCree move.
“A lil road trip,” McCree says. “But when I saw Hanzo, well, as if I could eye a man like that and not flirt with him.”
“I am not surprised you made a move, I am surprised Hanzo fell for it,” Genji says, trying not to laugh.
“Damn, me too, but thirty minutes later we were in my car an’…” McCree says in a low conspiratorial voice.
“No details!” Genji says and nudges him while the cowboy chuckles.
“Someone stole his car meanwhile,” McCree wiggles his eyebrows and Genji covers his face with his palm at the nature of the conversation. “I helped a man in need and gave him a ride.”
“I see,” Genji says and snickers. “A good samaritan giving a man a ride.”
“The ride of his life,” McCree quips, throwing his arm around Genji’s shoulders playfully while the younger Shimada laughs. “Hanzo didn’t tell me his name ‘til the second day, so I didn’t know who he was at first.”
“How did you find out?” Genji asks surprised at his brother’s boldness.
“We shared a lot on the road,” McCree says and loses his smile briefly. “But when he spoke about you,” McCree pauses and clicks his tongue. “That’s when I knew.”
“I haven’t seen Hanzo smile like that since we were very young,” Genji says. “And when I saw him at Hanamura he was troubled.”
“A shame, he’s gorgeous,” McCree says.
“Jesse, it is too soon,” Genji warns, knowing McCree falls hard and fast.
“I know, I know,” McCree croons. “I’m a sappy cowboy but I’m tellin’ ya’ this today, I’m gonna marry that man.” Genji laughs and pats his back. McCree knew he’d take it well, that Genji will notice immediately that he had fallen for Hanzo; too many years of friendship and nothing to hide.
“Always looking for trouble,” Genji says and sighs. “Welcome to the Shimada family then. I hope you know what you are getting into.”
“Oh sweetheart, believe me I know,” McCree whispers.
“Jesse!” Genji protests and rolls his eyes.
Friday 23:56:12 PM
The silver shine of the moon stretches to the sea and fills the warm night with promises of hope and good times to come. As cheerful as the faint laughs and chuckles echoing in the cliffs in unison coming out of two brothers finally reunited, sharing and celebrating life, because for the first time they are free and they are together.
Ten years of despair, of finding themselves and each other, a bottle of sake, a hug and suddenly they’re back at Hanamura, under a cherry blossom tree sharing stolen alcohol and talking about tales of dragons, dreams of greatness, and a shared fate.
“Now that I got you drunk, anija,” Genji says, his cheeks pink by the sake. “Do you want to talk about the cowboy?”
“No,” Hanzo snorts.
“McCree said you two met at a roadside bar,” Genji teases, pushes his luck to bother his brother because that’s what he does, what he did when they were young and what he intends to keep doing.
“He speaks too much,” Hanzo says and empties the bottle in their improvised glasses to take one last gulp at the poison.
“On that we can agree,” Genji says, lifting his drink in a toast. “To Jesse and his big mouth.”
“Kampai,” Hanzo says, remarking the word a little too much and drinking slowly the precious sake he has missed badly. It tastes even better when he shares it with Genji.
“He also said it took him thirty minutes to…”
“Genji!” Hanzo protests while he chokes on his drink from a coughing fit.
“To fall for you, anija!” Genji teases and chuckles. “You are still too easy.” He pats Hanzo on the back, rubbing his hand, craving a contact with him, his family, someone he loved and lost but he has found again.
“Thank you, Genji,” Hanzo says and sighs, guiltiness punishing again and clearly visible in his gaze.
“I told you,” Genji says. “I have forgiven you and now you have to forgive yourself. It’ll become easier.”
“I know,” Hanzo says. “I should go to sleep, seems like there is a lot of work to do around here.”
“We should,” Genji says and stands, offering a hand to his brother.
Hanzo walks with Genji back to the crew quarters between jokes and chuckles but with a clear as light plan on his head. Hanzo wants to find McCree and make good use of their new bed now that a weight has been lifted from his chest. They are here, they are in Overwatch and before they are sent into missions, they need to make the best while they can.
Second floor, a turn to the right, and he is in front of the door. Their door . The cowboy will be there waiting for him. Jesse was kind enough to leave him alone with Genji to catch up and spend some brotherly time together -the dragons know they will need more than one night- but Hanzo wishes he is waiting for him. He presses his hand on the control panel and the door swooshes open.
Hanzo steps inside and is gifted with a wonderful view of a room full of boxes to open and sort out, so much stuff to organize but also a cowboy on his boxers lying on the bed, the dim light of the lamp illuminating him, a datapad on his hands and that wolfish grin he’s so in love with beaming on his lips.
“Howdy,” McCree says and places the datapad on the floor with a grunt.
Hanzo ambles toward him, taking off his shoes -stumbling on his own feet, but nothing he would dare to admit- and pulling his shirt up his head, tossing it on the floor.
“Howdy, indeed, darlin’,” McCree teases and bites his bottom lip while he roams his eyes over Hanzo. He will never have enough of him, not in a lifetime.
The pants and his boxers fall at his feet and Hanzo steps out of them -trips again, barely noticeable but McCree chuckles- and crawls up the bed on top of his cowboy all naked.
“Did ya’ find your way here half-drunk, sweetheart?” McCree says but before the last word leaves his lips Hanzo falls on them, mouth open while a teasing tongue darts out to ravish in the wonders of his mouth.
McCree moans into the kiss, tasting Hanzo’s eager tongue, bitter and sweet, alcohol for sure; wonders he wants to taste for the rest of his life as long as they come from his lips. Hanzo gasps and interrupts the kiss to breathe, hovering on his fours over McCree’s body.
“I like that sake on your lips, darlin’,” McCree whispers. “Though I prefer a little bite…” Hanzo clenches his teeth wildly at the base of his neck and bites until McCree whimpers. “… to my liquor, sweetheart.”
Hanzo releases the reddened flesh and licks the indents of his teeth, admiring the beautiful bruise that forms there in the shape of his mouth. He kisses it and resist the temptation to devour that man alive.
“You do not want to rouse the dragon,” Hanzo says with a sly smile on his lips.
“I believe the dragon’s already roused,” McCree says and chuckles, loosening Hanzo’s hair and discarding the hair tie nowhere to be found ever again. He likes him like this, unraveled, free. Damn, he would let that famished man feast on him, mark him, own him either way he deemed.
Hanzo slides a hand inside McCree’s boxers to find a softened cock. “Honey, I’m not even…” the cowboy moans while Hanzo palms back and forth his cock and lowers his hand to cradle his sac in his hand and tug playfully at it. “Nevermind,” McCree gasps.
In a smart movement, Hanzo swoops down McCree’s boxers and hurries to go back to that cock while Jesse kicks them off. He gives long strokes from his hand, arousing him and feeling it harden by his touch. His mouth reaches for his abused neck tracing lavish kisses on his flesh while the cowboy pours endless moans into his ears.
McCree writhes underneath him, trying to get a faster treatment but Hanzo sets the pace. He finds his way down to his chest, the fuzz tickling his nose and lips while he drags them shamelessly over him until he finds a nipple and surrounds it with the heat of his mouth. Hanzo circles his tongue around the tip at the same time his thumb circles and smears precum in the swollen head of McCree’s hard cock. A hearty moan fills the room.
Hanzo doesn’t linger long there, bites and teases until he steals another moan that satisfies his needs. A road of kisses leads him to what he really craves. Him, hard, whole down his throat. When he hurries to trap the tip in his mouth, McCree has already spread his legs and secured a hand in the back of his neck. He fists his hair, keeping it out of the way.
His cheeks hollow rhythmically while he sucks him hard as though he wanted to lap his goodwill along with his cock. And Hanzo stares back at him, humming and swallowing another inch in the wet cave of his mouth. McCree’s already so hard he knows he could steal his orgasm right here and now if he wanted.
“Darlin’, I’m gonna buy twenty of those bottles for ya’,” McCree says and gasps when Hanzo chuckles and twirls his tongue. “or a damn hundred.”
Hanzo wraps a hand around his own length and lets out a strangled moan. He gives a pull and a tug but in a trice he is pumping himself firmly lost in the cock half shoved in his mouth. Dragging back to gasp for air, he takes McCree’s cock out, licking his lips lasciviously and glancing up at the sore mess he has made of the cowboy.
“Not fair, sweetheart,” McCree murmurs. “Let me…”
Hanzo doesn’t. He sinks his throbbing length inside his mouth in one wet and desperate slide, abandoning his own pleasure to fondle with his hands the expanse of McCree’s thighs, tangling his arms around them to bring him closer.
The stretching of his lips and the straining in his throat makes him moan while the cowboy tugs at his hair and tilts his hips up to find his mouth. Hanzo bobs his head, takes him in and out but never all the way out because he wants Jesse right where he is, leaking inside his mouth, his cock twitching at every suck, every brush of his tongue at the base, every jerk of his throat around it. Hanzo wants to choke on that thick cock until it is soft and spent.
McCree mumbles an unintelligible blue streak of curses into the room, biting his own forearm to keep himself quiet while Hanzo devours him, takes him all in, sucks him so good and so eagerly he comes unannounced in a heartbeat, with both his hands cupping Hanzo’s face and his hips jerking into him until he pulls away. Hanzo gags and swallows the first spurt of come, pulling him out maybe too soon but wrapping quickly his hand around McCree to elongate his orgasm, making sure he comes all the way, that he has nothing left for him.
Hanzo lets his tongue out and laps the dripping beads of cum left on his length, tasting McCree on them while he trembles underneath. His ragged breath echoes in the room in loud huffs while he looks intently at him. McCree wouldn’t miss Hanzo licking earnestly his cock, gathering his come in his lips, his beard, that greedy tongue hoarding everything for itself and licking him clean.
“Oh, darlin’,” McCree gasps when Hanzo is finally sated and crawls up to straddle him, cleaning his mouth with the back of his hand. “You’re a dream,” he says and takes a peek at that firm, hard cock on top of his stomach.
“You are a sweet treat, cowboy,” Hanzo teases with a smirk.
“I want my fair share,” McCree says.
The cowboy pushes Hanzo up and scoots down on the mattress until Hanzo’s knees are at both sides of his head. McCree maps the back of his thighs with his hands until he gropes for Hanzo’s dreamy ass.
Hanzo leans on the headboard -that is really a bare wall- and presses his forehead on his arm, glancing down at McCree who is licking his lips and pushing his ass until his cock rests near his face.
McCree lets his tongue out and traces the outline, paying attention to that enlarged vein at the side, kissing it, tilting his head while he tries to reach for the swollen tip that is smearing precum all over his beard. Hanzo stares at him with a smug smile on his lips, relishing in his struggle and those gutsy hands kneading his ass.
“A lil help, darlin’? I got my hands full,” McCree says and winks at him at the same time he squeezes his butt between his hands.
Hanzo chuckles, taking his own girth in his hand and rubbing it over McCree’s lips. His mouth opens obediently but Hanzo moves his cock out of his reach, rubbing it across his cheek and back over his lips again. He knows he wants it and revels in the power of denying it from him. A farce, Hanzo wants his warmth mouth more than he would ever admit.
“You’re a tease…” McCree says and lets his tongue out hoping Hanzo takes pity on him and rubs himself against it. He does.
“Spank me,” Hanzo asks. A wolfish grin spreads on McCree’s lips while he slaps Hanzo’s cheek with his hand. “I want to feel it, cowboy.” He does it again and this time a faint yelp follows the smack. Every time he does it Hanzo flinches and his cock brushes his face or his lips, but if he’s lucky and he has his tongue out he is blessed with the soft touch of the skin and Hanzo’s taste. “With your other hand.”
“Ya’ naughty,” McCree chuckles and disentangles his left arm to get more swing. His next spank makes Hanzo wail, and he leans over his forearm. He does it until he feels the skin burning hot and surely red with marks in the shape of his hand and fingers. Two times, three, enjoying the pleasure written all over his face. Hanzo’s cock is still tempting him, and he tries to trap it between his lips to no avail.
“Fuck, Jesse.”
“Honey, if ya’ don’t put your cock in my mouth I will bend ya’ over my lap and spank ya’ for real.”
Hanzo laughs, glancing down to meet his gaze and cupping his face with his hand. A hand that then grabs his cock and guides it dutifully to that tongue that wraps around it. He tilts his hips toward Jesse and shoves himself there in his mouth just enough to feel those lips around his girth. He remembers the toast in honor to Jesse’s big mouth and chuckles inwardly. Hot, big, wet mouth that does wonders and deserves a thousand toasts more.
“I won’t last,” Hanzo murmurs when McCree sucks him the same way he did in the car merely weeks ago. It feels even better now that the fear and the doubts cannot find the way to his heart, now that he is not a one-night stand but his partner in crime.
McCree pushes his ass rhythmically and Hanzo takes the hint, rocking his hips into his mouth a little deeper every time, thrusting and fucking into that heavenly well-behaved mouth. And McCree sucks, lets him set the pace and takes all Hanzo wants to offer him, in this case, his whole cock down his throat in and out of him in a tempo McCree knows by heart.
He wants to suck him to completion, wants to drink and taste Hanzo and not waste a drop of his spent, and he knows exactly what to do to achieve it. When Hanzo speeds up when his thrusts are frantic and needy McCree spanks harshly Hanzo’s butt with his left arm. He feels the twitch of the cock in his mouth and he hums pleasantly and does it again, harder, bringing Hanzo toward him and over the edge while a shameful whimper leaves his lungs.
Hanzo moans, his knees sprawled on the bed, supporting himself on the wall while he thrusts into McCree’s mouth and spills himself on him for as long his orgasm lasts. The cowboy swallows and sucks eagerly until Hanzo withdraws his cock. He jerks himself, squeezing at the head, and Jesse whines as a complaint, grasping harshly those red butt cheeks and letting his tongue out to catch that last spurt of come and a befitting intake of air.
McCree hums and licks his lips and Hanzo, with the dopiest smile he never thought he’d wear, crawls down to kiss him. The cowboy who changed his life, helped him push his fate forward and leave the past behind; not forget it, just leave it behind to walk into something better by his side.
“You got it all over your beard,” Hanzo says and laughs into the kiss.
“An’ who’s fault is that?” McCree says, throwing his arms around him and trapping those smirking lips into his own for a filthy, wet kiss where they taste of each other, sex and above all, love. “I like when ya’ get tipsy,” he teases.
“I love you, Jesse,” Hanzo says clear and loud, driven by the haze of his lust, his clouded mind and his deeply in love heart -and maybe the alcohol-. He covers the cowboy’s mouth with his hand because he knows, he need not hear it, he needed to say it.
“Hm hmmm hm hm,” McCree mumbles, hugging him so tightly he’s not even mad at that hand forbidding his aching heart to pour the truth outside. He tickles Hanzo, rolls over him and tackles his writhing body against the mattress. “Don’t ya’ ever leave my side,” he whispers, flustered and blushing by their lovemaking, kissing the fingertips still at his reach.
“Hardly a challenge, cowboy,” Hanzo says and smiles. “You have been marked by the dragon,” he says, nuzzling at the love bite on his neck while the hearty laugh of McCree fills the room.
“Honey, are ya’ sure ya’ wanna talk ‘bout who marked who an' where?” McCree teases and sneaks his hands between Hanzo and the mattress to fondle that abused and surely still pink ass.