Overwatch Oneshots

McHanzo: Infatuation

Ok. This is my first oneshot so hopefully it's good enough. I just had to write this because this idea has been floating around in my mind for awhile. Anyways, hope you enjoy!

Yes, I will be putting messages at the top now.
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Hanzo had just joined Overwatch a little while ago to try and escape his pity and misery. He hoped that he could regain some honor in helping the world due to his previous misdeeds, he wanted to redeem himself since all he's heard are positive things. He grew accustomed to most agents and to an extent, tolerated some. Tracer, Morrison, Reyes, so on and so forth. He apparently had more members to meet. He wasn't exactly looking forward to it but, nonetheless he accepted the fact that he should introduce himself to everyone despite his objections. He was walking to Reyes' training area to meet another agent. He opened the door and he saw Reyes of course and another person. A tall person wearing a cowboy hat. Hanzo was initially surprised at his silly outfit but once he turned around and he saw his face, his heartbeat immediately sped up. Hanzo was new to this feeling, not completely aware of what this new emotion was because he had been brutally trained to not feel them. But, it surfaced and he was forced to endure it as he stared at the cowboy. They locked eyes and Hanzo found himself feeling hot, almost boiling as he tried to regain composure. He cleared his throat, attempting to break the maddening silence that had settled. Then, Hanzo decided to initiate conversation, lifting the discomfort he had previously felt.

"Greetings.", he said. Then, the cowboy spoke too, "Hey there." His rich, southern accent was beautiful. It was deep and at that point Hanzo had realized what emotion he was dealing with, it was the most dangerous. Love.

He realized he wasn't in love with Jesse. But he forced himself to accept that he had some feelings for him. "My name is Hanzo, what might yours be?" "The names McCree, Jesse McCree. It's nice to meet ya, Hanzo." Hanzo liked the way his own name felt in Jesse's voice, he really liked it. He could listen to it for a long time. He snapped out of his deadly thoughts, refusing to believe he was infatuated with a silly costume wearing westerner.

But alas, that was exactly what was happening. He was heavily interested in this foolish cowboy. He gave a little wave before he exited the premises with a heart beating wildly and his face feeling warm. Hanzo cursed himself, hating the reality of his feelings, hating himself for being so vulnerable, maybe even hated himself for being human.

He wanted the cowboy. That's as far as he will claim, the only thing he will admit to himself. He wouldn't go farther than that, he just wanted to set it to the side because it wasn't as big of a deal. It was just some light feelings, nothing he couldn't handle. He would just have to endure it and eventually it would wear away.

He was wrong.

As days passed by his feelings intensified, completely overwhelming the Japanese man. Every moment he found himself thinking about Jesse, what it would feel like to be enveloped in his muscular, scruffy arms. Or his deep, beautiful voice being used to comfort him after a long day of training. He just wanted to be in his company, talking to him and forgetting about time. Hanzo was absolutely horrified of this overwhelming emotion, he wanted it to end, but, most importantly another part of him wanted this want to be satisfied, with Jesse.

Here he was, hopelessly falling for someone. He didn't even realize he was attracted to men for the matter and what if Jesse wasn't attracted to men? What if he would have to feel rejection once again? Hanzo had given up on trying to deny his feelings, he had also given up on his image. He accepted that he was a cold hearted murderer. But, apparently he wasn't as cold as he originally suspected.

He was in his quarters, mentally battling himself while also being plagued by thoughts of Jesse. His chiseled face, large stature, careless attire....

He immediately stopped himself right in his tracks. Sighing, he laid down in his bed and tried to sleep, refraining himself from thinking about someone.