An Old Burden Gone - A McHanzo Fic

"...Ya sure ya really wanna do this, darlin'?"

McCree's uncertain question was only met with a sigh from Hanzo.

"I am certain, Jesse."

He paused, a serious look clouding his face for a moment.

"It is just something I have to do," he eventually replied, looking up at his lover from his kneeling stance on the carpeted floor.

Not that he was even fully certain himself.

It was just something he owed it to himself to do. He had already tried, in more ways than one, to rid himself of the man he used to be, the man who had tried to slay his own beloved brother. He had already tried to change himself on the outside - tried cutting his hair, piercing his ears and nose, and following a different, more modern dress code - but it had never seemed good enough.

Looking at his own weary, sorrowful reflection in the mirror one day - with it, the beauty of the long, healthy brown hair that he did not deserve to keep - drove it home to him.

There was still more to be done.

That was why, on a dreary, wet April night, kneeling shirtless, hair untied, on the bedroom floor before a pristine white basin, he had decided to display his shame in the most traditional way - by shaving his head.

Even though he much preferred having his partner do it, rather than do it himself, it was obvious that McCree, in that moment, was not entirely on board with his decision.

The cowboy, a pair of scissors and electric razor in hand, simply gave a wan smile of acknowledgement and knelt on the floor behind the Japanese archer, laying the equipment beside him. Hanzo didn't have to look in his direction to know that a saddened look most likely showed on his face. McCree's unwillingness to carry out such a task was only made all the more evident by the way the soft umber strands were soon being stroked through the cowboy's fingers, over and over. Letting out another sigh, Hanzo only closed his eyes and left his lover to it for a few more moments.

McCree always loved doing that, for some reason, and he wasn't about to deny him the pleasure of something he would not properly enjoy again for the next year or so.

A few more silent moments, save for the endless noisy pelting of the heavy rain outside, passed between the two lovers, before Hanzo heard McCree speak up once more.

"Y'know I don' wanna go cuttin' this all off, Han," he affirmed, in a quiet voice. "Seems a damn shame, with such a lovely mane as yours."

Hanzo said nothing, only let his lover continue running his hands through his hair for a few more moments.

"It has to be done, Jesse," he responded, his voice barely more than a whisper, after a long pause.

"Why didn' ya ever do it by yourself?"

Another pause.

"I... would rather have you do it, Jesse. You would love me no matter what I did, and I know that."

The archer felt McCree bring both hands to his crown, and bury themselves deep into his thick, dark hair, slowly moving their way from root to tip. He couldn't help but again give himself completely to the pleasurable sensation.

"Damn right I would, Han," was the cowboy's reply, as he continued to gently run his fingers through his lover's hair. "Ya could do anythin' ya wanted with yourself, at least on th' outside, an' I'd still love ya the same."

Hanzo smiled to himself. He had always known that, of course, but hearing McCree reaffirm such a thing only calmed him, and prepared him for what would come next.