McHanzo

The Body is the Canvas

Hanzo Shimada is a twenty-three adult who is in the process of art education at Overwatch Art University.

Jesse 'Gunslinger' McCree is a twenty-four adult who takes praise into the anger out of Hanzo. Jesse is a photographer in the same school as the Shimada. The southerner just can't stand himself with the other in the room without teasing the fuck out of him. They have lived together for almost a year, but it seemed like centuries for the Shimada, having to go through all that pain with McCree. It seemed like the male could never get enough of the pure annoyance out of such an innocent man.

Late evening on the weekend, Hanzo was glued to his chair, keeping his mind set on his newest sketch. When he first entered OAU, he had to get fixated working with a tablet than pencil and paper. He quickly caught on on how the electronic device could catch each rhythmic movement into his drawing. The male swiftly made quick strokes onto the tablet in silence; having to concentrate to put in all of his effort.
He calmly relaxed as his dark eyes followed his hand across the posed figure on his canvas. His hair swept over his right eye whilst being tied up at the back of his head.
From doing nothing but drawing, soon enough it came to him that he was yawning quite a bit. It was quite warm in his room, it always was; leaving him to be in just tank tops, or some occasions, completely bared on his torso.
His back leaned forward and ached from that one position before his ears rung of the growing footsteps to his room.

He remained still as the familiar roommate moved close to the other with a small smile, placing a rough hand onto the top of his shoulder softly.
"Hanzo," the male spoke, already knowing from that dumb voice of his that it was Jesse, but yet the voice sent shivers down his back, spiking his posture up right slowly.
"Would you wanna model for some photos for me, darlin'?"
God his accent never made anything better, just the way his voice dipped low with the tangy way of speech like sour orange juice left out of the fridge for a while. The Shimada kept his figure still as his eyes locked onto his drawing tablet.
"What kind of photos?" Hanzo replied sternly, keeping himself busy by acting busy, it was late and he wished to be asleep by now, but he'd hate the feeling of not finishing a drawing to forget about later the week. The cowboy tugged the corner of his mouth to the side before loosening his eyebrows down to rest above his eyes. "Ah, whatever you're comfortable with, Shimada." Hanzo moved his eyes to the side to the use of his last name. He'd never liked the other to call him back his last name, even with his close relationship with his brother.

The raven-haired male sighed before he leaned on his right elbow to continue to work. "What are your intentions, Jesse? I am trying to work." Hanzo sighed quietly with his eyebrows furrowed above his dark, half lidded eyes. The southern-man raised his hand in front of himself as his dark eyebrows curved upward to the middle. "Hey hey, I know I'm a fool for teasin' ya, but I'd really appreciate if ya could allow me to take pictures of your 'pertty' art here."
Metal sheered against the Shimada's warm skin, goosebumps perking up with the sudden cold of McCree's prosthetic. His eyes caught the friend's hand on his shoulder, teeting with the blue tank top that hung on his chest. He moved his gaze up to the cowboy's eyes to receive a disapproving look. "I mean yer tattoo, darlin'."

Hanzo looked to the side with a bit of embarrassment, feeling his cheeks tint along with it. "That would just look foolish." This produced a quiet low chuckle from McCree as his finger twirled around his tank top's strap.
"Yer such a doll," he commented, "but I do adore this mighty fine dragon of yours." The touch began to feel much closer as Hanzo felt Jesse behind him lean close against his back. His eyes scooped out every single detailed printed onto Shimada's body with awe, wondering to himself how long it took for it to be made. McCree himself had never seen much of the tattoo except for his arms. He would always try to peek a glimpse whenever he could, but no luck. He could never see the beginning of the blue dragon to where his pec was.