Chapter Text
“Your hair is surprisingly soft.”
Hanzo chuckled, leaning into the fingers rubbing against his scalp. His horns had begun to grow back, meaning that while he normally very much enjoyed McCree playing with his hair, the scalp massaging now felt even better.
"So when’ll the horns start pokin’ through?” McCree asked, moving his hands to the area above his temples, feeling the small bumps where his horns were growing under the skin.
“A week or so, I believe. Sometimes they come in slower, depending on if I am injured or sick when they begin growing back. Since I have been in good health for a while now, they should come in soon.”
“That’s good. I like your horns. They look good on ya.”
Hanzo purred, turning onto his stomach so he could press his face into McCree’s chest. “I am glad you like them. I was worried that you would find them…”
“Bothersome?”
“Monstrous.”
McCree paused in his motions and moved one his hands down to cup the archer’s chin, pushing gently until his face was no longer buried in his chest.
“You are not a monster.” McCree pressed his lips to his forehead, then under each eye, and finally to his lips. “You are ferocious and beautiful, and you could probably level a city if you desired, but you are not a monster.”
Hanzo purred even louder, leaning in and rubbing their noses together before ducking and rubbing his nose and lips across his jaw. McCree chuckled and leaned back, exposing more of his neck for the dragon. The constant nuzzling had been a pleasant surprise, one he was more than happy to embrace. Even once Hanzo told him it was a way of scenting him as well as showing affection, shying away as though McCree would be freaked out or repulsed, McCree still encouraged him to do it.
Hanzo chuffed, blinking up at him with slitted pupils, and McCree cupped his face in his hands and just stared at him, running a thumb over the patch of flesh colored scales under his right eye.
“I love you.”
Hanzo immediately tore himself from his hold, slamming his hands down on McCree’s shoulders and roaring. McCree swallowed and put his own hands gently over Hanzo’s wrists, not to hold or remove, but just to rest them there. Hanzo kept growling quietly, snorting clouds of steam. For several minutes they sat in silence, McCree waiting and Hanzo thinking, staring at McCree’s hands, his gaze becoming more and more unfocused. Finally he took a deep breath and held it, then released it a soft wail.
“No one… no one has said that to me since my brother.”
McCree smiled sadly, pulling the dragon back into his lap and stroking his hair, humming quietly as Hanzo shook against him. What was going on in his head was a mystery to the gunslinger, though given what Hanzo had told him (and what searching he had done on his own), he figured it was for the best.
“I cannot say it in return.”
The quiet sentence made McCree nod, rearranging the dragon until they were lying down, Hanzo’s head resting on his chest.
“That’s alright darlin’. Ya don’ have ta. Ya don’ ever have ta. I just wanted ya ta know.”
Hanzo sighed and wiggled until their legs were tangled together and McCree’s arm was wrapped around his back. They should probably move off the floor to somewhere more comfortable, preferably the bed, but neither really felt like letting the other go.
“I would like to say it back to you.” Hanzo admitted.
“Whenever you feel comfortable with it. It don’ make a lick of difference ta me.”
Hanzo curled closer to the gunslinger. “You are a treasure.”
“Oh, is that why you’re with me? Hoardin’ me with the rest of your riches?”
“McCree, we have been over this. I do not have mountains of jewels and gold in a cave somewhere.”
“No, but ya do have a very large amount of blankets and pillows on your bed.”
Hanzo glared at him but didn’t deny the statement; he did have quite a lot of blankets and pillows, all of varying materials, sizes, and colors. He huffed another cloud of steam, watching it dissipate before blowing a series of rings. McCree began massaging the bumps where the horns were starting to grow again, feeling Hanzo practically melt against him.
“You are too good with those hands of yours, cowboy.”
McCree chuckled. “Wanna see what else they can do?”