Oh no? D: extra:
fuck okay I accidentally committed tag-fic that got too long for the tags. It’s too late at night to actually clean this up into something presentable so I’ll - just -
#now I want fic where McCree’s hat has developed a personality #over the many long years it’s spent perched on a certain extremely personable cowboy’s head #being well-loved and cared for #and yes alright also getting bled on and filthy with all manner of other unmentionable substances #which require careful washing #and careful loving stitches for far too many bullet holes and tears
#and in return it keeps Jesse warm and gives him shade #and over the years soaks up both muffled laughter and sobs the countless times he drags it down to hide his face
#one time Jesse was knocked unconscious by an explosion and despite frantic searching Gabe couldn’t find him amongst the debris #until Jesse’s hat caught a breeze that should’ve been too faint to carry it #and drifted out the broken doorway right into Gabriel’s line of sight
#the first time Jesse’s young dumb self hitched a ride on a hypertrain he didn’t keep his hand pressed tightly enough to his head #and his hat was whipped clean away #he didn’t realize that he’d leapt off after it until he was already in the air #fingers outstretched with the unthinking serenity of pure blind panic
#he broke more than few bones on the landing - was lucky he wasn’t *killed* - but he limped after that hat and retrieved it alright
#and then Jesse meets Hanzo
#and starts to spend a great deal of time watching him with his gaze hidden under the shield of its downturned brim
#first with cool caution #then with pensive self-reflection #then with growing admiration and interest
#until the brim isn’t downturned at all but instantly tipped up with beaming welcome every time he spots the man
#it gets to the point where Jesse almost says something #spends a night or two pacing in the hallway in point of fact #taking his hat off and turning it nervously in his hands #spinning it like the wheels running feverishly in his mind
#but he chickens out
#another time #he thinks #when Hanzo’s not so tired from a mission #when he’s in one of his good open moods #when he’s already smiling from one of Jesse’s dumb jokes maybe #when Jesse’s just a little more sure he’s not imagining the softness in Hanzo’s eyes
#by god #never before has any hat sat on a head so puffed full of self-doubts and excuses
#so on a beautiful crisp autumn day #Jesse’s hat lifts off in a gust of wind and abandons him #ignoring his startled exclamation and lunging grab #and tumbling itself right into Hanzo Shimada’s face
#’awww fuck me!’ Jesse blurts #and freezes in the motion of reaching #’I mean– uhhh–’ #and Hanzo’s mouth curls up helplessly #still hidden behind Jesse’s hat #before he reaches up to pull it down
#he holds the old hat in gentle hands #skimming lightly with fingertips and eyes that seem to linger on every invisible stain and stitched scar rich with history #and Jesse shivers like it’s his own skin
#then Hanzo sets it on his own head–tilts it at an effortless angle that Jesse refuses to admit he used to practice in a mirror and a rakish grin–and with steady laughing eyes says #‘let me buy you dinner first’
