Work Text:
Even though he honest to God enjoys cooking for the rest of the team he can’t deny that having Hanzo cut up the veggies is awful nice. It does help that despite the grumbles that work like this is below him and meant for the lower classes to do; Hanzo follows the directions and does them well. Each chili is even and just the right thickness. Not too thick like how Hana “helps” in the kitchen, won’t have to put in extra effort to chew. Not too thin either, it won’t instantly melt into a useless goop in the pot.
Hanzo hanging around him like a snippy shadow isn’t uncommon. The absurdity of their dynamic does cause his brain to stumble at times. Man, cooking chili with a ex-yakuza guy who sorta killed one of your best friends a decade or so ago in an abandoned military complex is not where he thought he’d end up after his first ride in the back of a paddy wagon.
Not that he’s complaining mind you. Despite his inclination towards cynicism. Hanzo is just the right level of fucked up for him. Willing to get blackout drunk and watch Joe Dirt with him, but still able to shoot like Annie Oakley while hungover the next day. Way to make a man blush. Speaking of.
It’s a bitch to try to convince himself that the warmth of his face is the steam from the ground beef he’s browning and not the result of 38 years of emotional repression and denial of his homosexuality coming to the forefront. Damn, maybe Angie had a point about getting a shrink….Nah he’s alright. Just need a good night’s rest or a real stiff drink.
“What else do you want me to do?” Hanzo asks, while scraping the cut up chilis they went down to town to get earlier today-lovely day btw- into a glass bowl for him to pour into the pot later.
“Drop and give me fifty.”
Hanzo snorts and places the knife back on the cutting board and leans against the counter. He kind of half expected Hanzo to do it even if he thought the joke was stupid just to show off his physique. Not that Cole would notice something like that though, that’s sissy activities. Desperate to deboard that train of thought he scrambles for a deep thought provoking question,
“So, what do you think of carbon monoxide detectors?” Perfect.
“Did you get the message Winston sent out this morning?” Hanzo responds. Thinking of his phone with a cracked screen he dropped between the headboard and wall and was too lazy to get down on his achy knees and get a few days ago he responds,
“Yeah, ’course I did.”
“What are you going to do with that time?”
“Oh y’know. What I usually do. What about you-can you hand me the onions?”
Hanzo obliges, handing him the bowl of perfectly chopped onions for him to dump into the pot now that he’s taken the beef out to drain.
“Genji said him and Angela are going off to Switzerland to see a performance of sorts. He invited me.”
“Well, are you tagging along? Bell peppers.”
He can’t see Hanzo roll his eyes when he hands him the bowl of peppers but he can feel it deep in his rotten soul. “I’d rather not watch them make eyes at each other for several days in a row-” Okay so Winston gave them a few days off? “-and Angela doesn’t like me.”
“Aw come on, Angie will come around if you make an effort.”
“I have made an effort.”
“Now you just keep telling yourself that sweetheart,”
While he stirs the onions and peppers in the pan, Hanzo leans back against the counter and pulls out his phone. Idly scrolling while they share an amicable silence. It’s nice. He hasn’t gotten this type of calmness in a while in his life. His typical calm while running around for most of his years was the collapse after getting back to his hotel room when the adrenaline wore off and he dropped like a god damn stone with it’s strings cut.
This calm though…it’s soft and sweet like warm caramel. It’s utterly boring and that’s what’s great about it. He’s fallen head over heels for a handful of people. Some similar to Hanzo, sharp tongue, sharp witted, a great body and an even greater body. Hanzo wants to help people. Don’t fret, he’s still a anti-social bastard at best. He’s putting in good effort into Overwatch and their battles though and that’s good enough for his books. His heart may not be in the quite the right place, but his arrows sure are.
He kind of wishes drunk him had the brains to confess and he also kind of wishes sober him had the balls to confess. Oh well, gotta keep stirring so this doesn’t burn. The sound of the fridge opening catches his attention, not enough to abandon the stove top but it does disrupt the silence. A extremely satisfying crack of an ice cold drink does make him turn his head,
“We drinking now?”
Hanzo merely raises his eyebrows and takes a sip while pushing a second canned beer on the counter so it glides and stops right next to the stove for him. Yeah, he’s smitten. He cracks his own open and it’s as cold and perfect as he hoped when he takes his first swig. God day drinking is awesome, why don’t more folks do it?
There’s a little glimmer of mischief in Hanzo’s eyes when he finally meets them again.
“Gimmie the tomato paste.” He croaks out. There’s some shuffling as Hanzo rummages for a can opener and opens the can before sliding it across the counter for him. Next, he hears Hanzo tapping on his phone. With a fervor that makes him concerned Hanzo’s going to gleefully show him one of his Aunts strung up by her guts by a rival gang again. “Whatcha’ up to over there darlin’?”
“You’ll see.”
“Well aren’t you as cryptic as a pharaoh.”
To which Hanzo gives him an impish smile that gives him a funny feeling in his stomach and a new image to flash in his mind at night. Whatever. He will not fuck up this chili. The rest of the cooking passes like a grandma that was on hospice.
A few more beers in and while the chili simmers, he’s ended up side by side with Hanzo with their backs against the counter watching some video Hanzo apparently mentioned a while back. He doesn’t really get why Hanzo thinks it’s so funny but there are worse places to be than right up against someone who runs warm enough he can feel it linger for a moment on his skin after he breaks contact by laughing too hard.
Hanzo’s got a healthy flush going on. Bemoaned several times before in the privacy of one of their room’s before-Hanzo hates how obvious it is. It’s cute. Even his ears go red. Sometimes it reminds him of those old cartoons after someone gets mad. And sometimes, like right now, it makes him think of how Hanzo must blush in certain situations. It’s someone’s else responsibility to clean up the dishes since he cooked, but they really should take care of all the empty beer cans. They’re hardly drunk- takes a bit more than a few beers to keep men like them down. They are fully tipsy and a bit louder than they really should be.
It makes it easier to excuse the flush on his own mug and the way his eyes are half lidded and his lips just a little loose when Hanzo looks up from the video to gauge his reaction. Honest to God, he catches Hanzo snag a few glances at his lips. It’s one feature most of his past lovers had appreciated. ‘Scuse him if he’s a little proud of em.
“How much longer does that need to simmer?”
“ ’Bout an hour or so,”
“Mmh, I’ve got stronger stuff in my room…if you would like to join me?” Hanzo says, rattling the empty beer can in his hand. After a very hasty clean up, they scurry off to the west wing where Hanzo’s place is tucked away.
“I’ve got you something a while ago, I was going to save it for Christmas but I know you get sad about that Holiday and would likely appreciate it more now.” Hanzo says, ever a practical man, while disappearing into the bedroom part of his place. Leaving Cole in the living room area. When he returns it’s with a brown paper bag that is quickly placed into Cole’s possession.
Just from the weight he has a pretty damn good idea what’s in it but he’s not about to complain. Removing it from the bag proves his hypothesis right. Good whiskey. Reeeaaal good whiskey. Listen now, he knows his whiskey pretty damn well. From what’s expensive and a scam and what’s cheap and worth it. However, he never really knows much about the occasional bottles Hanzo gets him. The damn crush he has on his coworker could be solely fueled by Hanzo’s taste in liquor and the fact that he shares it. The packaging is obscene and necessarily complex. The bottle is all geometric with gold leaf bullshit. Taking the cap off he takes a swig and savors the burn and deep flavors. Tonight is a good night.
While he was getting his first sips in, Hanzo is mucking around with his own sake. The flush is traveling down his neck and he wants to press his lips against it to see if it’s as warm as it looks.
“You can find out.” Hanzo says, eyeing him with his dark pretty eyes.
“Hwat?”
“My neck?”
“Aw shit, I didn’t say that outloud. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Cassidy. We are adults-I trust you and you are a dear friend. We can talk about this respectfully.”
“I plead the fifth.”
Hanzo sighs and presses his hand to his forehead. Cole has a sticky cloud of guilt sinking into him.
“Cole. Do you want to sleep with me?”
“Does a bear shit in the woods?” Hanzo makes a face of disgust. Yeah okay probably not the best response. “Look. It’s more than just sex alright? I don’t want to mess up what we’ve got. You’re one of the best friends I’ve had in a long time-” Quickly, he holds up a finger to stop Hanzo after he opens his mouth to say something, “-Genji don’t count since he keeps trying to get me to stop smoking and do yoga and shit.” Hanzo closes his mouth.
“I assure you I value our friendship as well.” Hanzo glances at the bottle he gave Cole, “Whatever you want I think I want to give it a try.”
“I want to get married and have tin cans tied to the back of our car with fishing wire we got from a thrift store.”
“Never mind. I’ve decided to become celibate for the rest of my life.”
“I was kiddin’, come here. I’ve been thinking about what it would be like to kiss you for too long to be healthy.” He says motioning for Hanzo to join him on the couch he settled onto. Which Hanzo does, sitting close and pressing into his side like they were in the kitchen.
“Like you’ve ever cared about health with all those cigar you-”
Cole interrupts that nasty statement with a gentle press against Hanzo’s lips. To which Hanzo kisses back like he has something to prove and starts bringing their hands into the equations.
Eventually their little makeout sess between buddies gets interrupted by Hanzo’s phone alarm.
“The chili is done. Come.” Hanzo says ditching Cole who has to rummage around to find where his hat ended up before his can scurry off after him.
