Redemption From Resemblance (McHanzo)

My Past, My Story

McCree felt like sighing dreamily to himself, but he refrained from doing so because of the other man sitting next to him. Instead, he leaned his body closer so their shoulders touched, and smiled wide when the gesture was returned. Both the cowboy and Hanzo had decided to take a bit of a break under  their tree and spend some quiet time together where no one but Genji would disturb them (since it was apparent that no one ever bothered to check if anyone was outside, and the younger Shimada only knew because of the argument he had with his brother). So far, neither had spoken the entire time they've been outside, the men opting to just watch the water roll and crash against itself while the sun still hung high above and beamed down onto the ocean. McCree's serape was being used as a temporary blanket for them to sit on (much to the dismay of Hanzo since he felt adamant about not ruining something the younger man received from his mother any further while the other insisted), armor left inside and laying on the gunslinger's bedroom floor where he had left it a couple days ago even though his revolver was still on his person. McCree's hat, on the other hand, was once again placed on top of the assassin's head (his bow and arrows safely locked inside his room), and to let it sit better, Hanzo had removed his ever present ribbon so his hair fell free. The action had been a metaphorical punch to the gut for the younger man who had been captivated the moment those inky, black strands came loose, and he could only stare while his fingers twitched with a strong desire to touch and run through the hair that no doubt felt like silk (considering the older man's strong feelings concerning hygiene). The cowboy had managed to keep his hands situated at his sides, but he couldn't help but stare for far longer than he should have (with the elder Shimada somehow managing to not notice his stare or simply didn't care) before he forced himself to look away. McCree still felt the urge to touch, but he was too afraid to ask because until Hanzo voiced his comfort, the younger man would remain at a distance.

Some parts of him anyway because while the gunslinger's hands still remained at his sides, his body was moving closer and closer to the elder Shimada who didn't seem to mind in the least. If anything, he was encouraging the contact since the older man was also moving closer, which led to their current situation. Both were sitting shoulder to shoulder, their knees touching in order to get just a little closer to the other despite what little space was left between them. Hanzo was also holding back a few urges of his own, mainly the urge to lay his head on the other man's shoulder and let his eyes shut, a moment where the older man would allow himself to take a nap if he truly wanted to (and oh, did he because if not now then it would have to be later, and the elder Shimada didn't want later). The only things that stopped him was the Stetson sitting on his head (something he was starting to grow rather fond of), and a question that had been burning in his mind for days now. Hanzo wants to ask, but he also just wants to enjoy the rare silence and peace with McCree before they have to return to reality where they fought against enemies and got shot at almost constantly. So the archer lets the silence continue for a few more moments, just a few before he presses a little harder against the younger man and speaks in a softer tone.

“McCree, if I may, there is a question that I have been wanting to ask you.” Said man turns his head just enough so they can make eye contact, and with a soft smile, his flesh hand moves to take hold of Hanzo's who grips back instantly.

“Darlin’, ya can ask me anythin’ ya want. Don't feel like ya need permission.” The older man lets the words sink in before he raises a single brow in response.

“Even if it is a personal question?” It's the cowboy's turn to raise a brow in reply, but his smile doesn't fade as his grip on the assassin's hand tightens just slightly.

“Anythin’.” Hanzo nods his understanding, and taking a deep breath, he prepares himself for whatever reply he ends up with once the older man asks.