Date (Hanzo) (sorry if I already sent one I can't remember)
Their situation being what it was, it was far from the nicest date Jesse had ever been on; he was certain Hanzo had been shown a far better time by those seeking either his affection or political favor in his previous life.
But this was what they had, and he wouldn’t have changed a moment of it. A simple dinner out at a nice little steakhouse in Algeciras, just fancy enough to merit slacks and ties (Jesse was woefully short on formalwear these days, a tragedy Hanzo had sworn more than once he’d see corrected). A quiet evening of soft laughter and fond glances over a delicious meal and a very nice bottle of red wine.
They were walking across the Plaza Alta now, arms hooked around each other’s waists, Hanzo tucked neatly up against his side. They came to a stop at the corner where they were to meet their cab, surrounded by the amber glow of old streetlamps, across the sidewalk from a couple of street musicians playing next to an upturned hat. “Thank you again for a delightful evening, my love,” Hanzo murmured, taking hold of Jesse’s arm and leaning up for a kiss.
Jesse smiled, quite pleased with himself, as he returned the gesture and then leaned down for a couple more. “Was my pleasure, darlin’,” he answered, giving him another gentle squeeze. “Just a shame it’s over already. I’d take you out dancin’ if I knew where one even did such a thing these days.”
Hanzo let out an adorable little snort of laughter. “Thank goodness you don’t. We have both had too much wine for that to be an option.”
Jesse pouted softly. “Now I’ll have you know I am still perfectly coordinated. I know better than to try and drive, but I’ve still got my wits about me.”
“Please do not get your gun out and try to prove this, Jesse. Please. I have several ideas of how I would like this night to end, and none of them involve you getting arrested.”
Jesse might have said something snappy back if he hadn’t already been eyeing the two men sitting across the street – a man a little younger than them, sitting down with a guitar in his lap, and a fellow closer to Reinhardt’s age standing behind him with an accordion, with more than a little family resemblance between them. He let Hanzo go on for another moment or two as he subtly fished a few euros out of his pocket, then quickly kissed his partner on the forehead before stepping away, holding up the bills between two fingers. “Buenos señores! Algo lento, a bailar con mi amado?”
They both laughed, the older man clapping heartily and the younger gesturing him over. He dropped the bills in their hat with a dramatic bow, turning back to see Hanzo staring wide-eyed. “Jesse, what are you–”
The music began, and Jesse swept his lover into his arms, spinning across the sidewalk. His smug smile only grew wider when Hanzo clung to him, giggling helplessly -- neither of them was quite steady on their feet, but they were in no danger of falling, at least while they had each other to lean on. An apt metaphor, really, Jesse thought.
Hanzo’s laughter faded with a soft, contented sigh, and he pressed himself close against his amado’s chest as they swayed gently with the melody. Jesse held him tight, quiet, breathing in the cool sea air. His life would certainly go back to its usual improbable dramatics soon enough, but tonight -- tonight, he was just himself. Just a man. Just in love. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.