Never Let Me Go (A McHanzo Fanfic)

The Treasure Chest

So Hanzo explains why he even threw McCree's treasure chest in the first place. Ok, let's go, loves!

M for mature and H for heavy.

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Limbs entangled limbs as Hanzo's sleeping form molded like clay to fill in the spaces between him and the pirate's much larger, toned build. Their bodies were under the warmth of a blanket, but it served more for decency than anything else--supposedly if Thomas were to go in unannounced the second time, but they highly doubt that.

Jesse's sun-kissed skin added a sort of rustic contrast to the alabaster of Hanzo's periphery, while the untamed locks of his sepia hair unfurled out into a wild dishevelment that contrasted the silky ebony tresses that fell like streams from the siren's scalp.

Everything about the two of them was fire and ice, water and oil, heaven and earth; you name it. Who knew they would even make it past the desire to kill each other without receiving a single thread of a scratch on their skins? Sure Hanzo was hit with a harpoon--a big one at that--but the blow was intended to protect Thomas and not so much to bring harm upon the merman or his pretty blue tail.

When he passed out due to blood loss on the white sandy shoreline, the first thing on McCree's mind wasn't to aim at the head and pull the steely trigger. His body had reacted faster on instinct, but upon realization that there was no real harm within sight, the weapon was tucked back into the leather holster and the captain crouched on one knee to gain a better angle from which to observe his vulnerable captive better.

He was a beautiful siren.

Jesse would have stayed for hours, doing nothing but setting his eyes on all that there was to see, but the purpling of Hanzo's lips and the graying of his skin prompted him to take the medical approach. And yet when those amber orbs shone through fluttering eyelids how many days later, Jesse was simply smitten. He forgot what hostility was as he watched the merman slip in and out of consciousness. Hanzo turned an on switch inside his system and it was going to take a lot--almost impossible--to turn it back off, even as the siren acted so stubbornly in the first few months of his stay. Of course it was nothing short of unbearable, but it was nothing the great Captain McCree couldn't handle.

"Good morning, pirate." Hanzo's voice flowed out in hushed whispers as the earliness of the morning still coursed through his exhausted, adjusting system.

"Hey there, sweetpea," Jesse chuckled lowly, and Hanzo felt the deep sound rumbling from the other against the bone of his shoulder blade where McCree's chest was pressed against. "How about some breakfast, mhm?"

Hanzo's lips slipped up into a smile as one of his thick black brows arched up. "You mean my regular bucket of raw fish?"

"Nah." McCree laughed along, sensing his hint of playful sarcasm. "From now on, you'll be eatin' whatever I eat. Or you go back to raw fish, either way I'm fine with it."

"You mean...ass?"

The captain's eyes circled out the moment the unusual string of words flew past Hanzo's lips. Had he heard that right? "W-What? S'cuse me?"

"You know," the merman began, slightly taken aback by the quick shift of emotions on his beloved's countenance. "I've been hearing some of your crew members say a lot of things pertaining to..." he paused, "ass. Is that some sort of dish? Some sort of...delicacy? An object? I doubt it's the same thing as a person's behind. I mean, I know how much you humans love to make new meanings out of old words--idioms, is it? I mean...how can one eat a person's behind? That's brutal...and quite unprecedented."