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Hanzo jerked awake into pitch blackness.
Something woke him, and he felt fear bubble in his chest. He scrambled to sit upright, silently hissing at the stiffness in his neck and his back. What the hell—he’d fallen asleep on a couch?
Oh. Oh .
He let his shoulders slump and reached up to rub his face, avoiding his still-sensitive piercings. He was at Overwatch’s HQ, in the rec room. He was safe, he was fine. Everything was okay.
He’d been sitting up waiting for the return of the team who had gone on a semi-secret mission. Hanzo had been allowed some knowledge, since his boyfriend was on the team.
He must’ve fallen asleep waiting. Hanzo sighed. Nothing seemed different; perhaps the ETA on their return was off. It wouldn’t be the first time.
In that case, he should probably go back to his room. It would do his back no miracles, sleeping much longer on the couch.
Hanzo was about to get up when he heard a soft sound behind him. He froze; it was the door opening.
A soft blue-tinged light lit up the room behind him. It was clearly the light of a phone, dimmed down. Hanzo turned around, already opening his mouth to apologize to whatever agent had entered.
Instead, his eyes were met by dusty red and brown, tiny blue lights, and gaudy gold.
Hanzo felt a gasp from his own throat and his face stretch into a smile. “Jesse.”
Jesse’s face was mostly hidden in shadow under his hat. He hadn’t changed out of his battle gear yet. Hanzo saw his body hunch over and a tiny sparkle of his teeth in the light as he smiles. “Hanzo… there you are.”
Hanzo moved quickly, vaulting over the back of the couch. As he darted forward, intent on wrapping him in a tight embrace, the stomach-rolling stench of gore and gunpowder hit him. Hanzo stopped dead and reached up to cover his face. “Oh, my God, Jesse, what is—“
“It ain’t my blood,” Jesse said quickly. “We just got back.”
“You aren’t hurt? Where is the doctor?”
“Sleepin’, like most everyone else. I dropped my bag in our room, but I got worried when you weren’t in there. I’ll go see her tomorrow.” Something sounded tense in his voice. There was a little waver. “I’m not injured. Just… in desperate need of a shower. Were you waiting in here for me?”
Hanzo nodded and stepped closer. With his eyes adjusting he could see dull red splattered on his flashy buckle, dried on his shirt and chaps and serape. There was a bandage around his arm and shadows under his eyes. Hanzo frowned, worry blossoming in his chest. “Let’s get back to our room, my love.”
“Okay.” Jesse’s voice was barely whispered. The light shook a little in Jesse’s unsteady hand.
Hanzo didn’t ask anything else as he took Jesse’s cool metal fingers and tugged him along through the halls back to the living quarters. There was one other door open there, one of the other team members returning. Hanzo paid little mind, focused on his unusually silent boyfriend.
The door to their shared room hissed open and Hanzo pulled him gently inside. He flicked on the lamp, filling the room with gentle yellow-tinted light, and worked quickly to help Jesse remove his bloody clothes.
There was a lot of blood.
Jesse didn’t say anything, his eyes a little hollow, but staring at Hanzo the entire time. When he was left in just his boxers, Hanzo took this time to reach up and cup his face.
“Jesse. My dearest,” he murmured.
Jesse’s hands shook as he let them rest on Hanzo’s arms, not pulling him away or holding him closer. He breathed out a trembling breath. “It was bad,” he whispered, hoarse. “Not the worst I’ve seen. Not the worst I’ve done. But bad. Been a real long time since I’ve done anything like that.”
Hanzo’s face softened with sympathy and he moved one hand to run through Jesse’s hair. It was a little greasy and gross from days without showering, but he didn’t care about that. “I’m sorry.”
“Missed you. Glad you weren’t there.”
Hanzo knew he didn’t think Hanzo was too weak to deal with guts and gore. “I wish you had not have had to have been there like that. How can I help you?”
Jesse shook his head. “I wanna get all this… gross feeling off and sleep for the next, like, year, and never leave your arms again.”
Hanzo stood up on his toes to press a chaste kiss to Jesse’s chapped lips. He tasted like cigar ash and blood. “Okay. Can you start the shower?”
Jesse nodded. “You’re gonna join me?”
“Yes. You look like you are going to collapse.”
Jesse managed a small smile before Hanzo released him. He headed for the bathroom while Hanzo quickly undressed.
The water was hot, and the second Jesse stepped under it, he sighed and leaned against the shower wall. Hanzo preferred cooler showers, but didn’t complain; Jesse needed this. There were no wandering hands or eyes as Hanzo helped Jesse wash his hair and rinse dried blood down the drain.
Hanzo decided that clothes were pointless after the shower. Jesse was more responsive, though still quiet. Dried off as best they could, Hanzo took Jesse directly to bed. The dirty clothes and things could be taken care of later.
“Hanzo,” Jesse murmured as Hanzo climbed in bed beside him. Hanzo didn’t wait for him to continue, pulling over the blanket and pulling Jesse close in the soft darkness of their room. “What’d I do to deserve you?”
“You were yourself,” he replied softly as Jesse buried his face in the crook of his neck. “You are a good man, Jesse McCree. A hero.”
“Don’t right feel like one after what we had to do,” Jesse mumbled into Hanzo’s tattoo.
Hanzo held him tighter, willing the pain to leave him. “Nonetheless, you are, to me and to so many others. You stopped some very bad people from hurting innocent lives, you risk your own life for others. You are a hero, and I love you.”
Jesse was quiet for a second before Hanzo heard a soft sniffle. “I’m so sorry, Hanzo, I’m sorry. I’m such a fuckin’ mess, God.”
“It’s okay. It’s okay, my love, I understand. You can cry. Whatever you need, I am here.”
Jesse didn’t quite cry; Hanzo felt no tears, at least, but he trembled in Hanzo’s arms and occasionally hiccupped with shuddering breaths. Hanzo murmured senseless things to him in a smattering of languages, letting his fingers drift over scars and tangle in thick dark hair, kisses dotting the top of Jesse’s head.
Finally, the shaking subsided. Jesse’s arm tightened around him, pulling him close. “Thank you,” Jesse said, far more quiet than usual.
“I love you, Jesse.”
“I love you too, Han.” Jesse seemed content to spend the night with his face in Hanzo’s chest. Hanzo didn’t mind, though a small, sleep-delirious part of his brain wanted to quip something about the last time Jesse had his face buried in Hanzo’s chest. “I wanna go to sleep.”
“Then sleep,” Hanzo said. “You need your rest. You have more than earned as much time as you need. As much time as you want.” He hoped they’d let Jesse sleep in late, and not wake the poor man for a meeting or anything.
“I’m so glad I’m back. Don’t ever let me go.”
“I’m here,” Hanzo said simply.
“G’night, sweetheart.”
Hanzo cast a glance toward the clock. It was four in the morning. “Good night, Jesse.”