Chapter Text
McCree presses the bar of the weight machine up, muscles shifting and straining against the pull of gravity on the heavy iron. Sweat pearls on his skin as he lowers the bar, soaking into his shirt. The bar clacks as he sets it back into place and sits up, finished with his workout for the day. He’s got proof of his hard work in the dark patches across his chest, under his arms, between his shoulder blades, and just above the dimples beside his tailbone. He absolutely REEKS and has to know it-he’s been sweating like a pig!-but he doesn’t head for the showers or even get changed. Instead he grabs a beer and parks himself at the kitchen table, one leg thrown up to let his sweat-soaked crotch breathe.
The second Hanzo sets foot back in the house he knows exactly what’s happened. That disgusting asshole does this every time, making it impossible to grab anything to eat for at least a few hours without risking a whiff of serious B.O. or sitting in whatever sweat-slick he’s left behind. This has been going on so long that he’s not proud to admit he got used to it. The normal routine would be to scoff, edge away from the kitchen and hide in his room with the window open in a gesture of silent protest, but this can’t go on. He has to speak up. Levelling his shoulders, he decides now is the time to give McCree a piece of his mind.
“You’re disgusting,” He states bluntly before he’s even all the way through the kitchen doorway, “Take a bath.” Jesse is stopped halfway through a gulp of beer and frozen in a look of shock and confusion. “You spend the whole day stinking when you do this. I’ve had enough,” Hanzo continues, crossing his arms. His chin is tilted up, eyes narrowed, body blocking the doorway. His nose remains unpinched.
“S'that so?” McCree marvels after swallowing his beer, crooking his leg to more effectively air out his unmentionables, “Jus’ seems like a real waste.” He grins, throwing an arm over the back of his chair and biting his lip.
“What?” Hanzo huffs, clenching his jaw.
“Jus’ that my delicates tend to go missin’ after a workout day s'all. I figured someone was puttin’ ‘em to good use,” He hums, cocking his head, “Not that I don’t love loungin’ like this anyway.” Tugging on the collar of his sweat-drenched shirt, he winks at Hanzo while fanning himself. “But…if you insist.”
“No, I-” Hanzo murmurs, eyes immediately on the floor, “That is-” body turned away, “You-” and he’s stumbling back down the hall beet-red in shame.
bonus:
“C'mon, waste not want not! Get back here!” McCree laughs, thumping his beer onto the table and sidling off after Hanzo, “I wasn’t judgin’ you none!”