Hanzo is fully aware of the way McCree stares at him when he eats. The cowboy may have been blackops, but he has a horrible pokerface. But it’s cute, the way McCrees eyes follow his chopsticks to his mouth, bulge when Hanzo swallows, so he decides to entertain him. He starts eating his usual meals slower. He begins to act up, relishing in the flavors. Then he moves to more suggestive foods – soba noodles, agedashi tofu. Things he has to slurp, make noise to eat. 1/

He starts to look forward to meal times more, the exhibitionist in him thrilled at the notion that just a few metres away, McCree is awkwardly concealing his cock while Hanzo noisily slurps at his udon. He wants to see how far he can take this. He eats natto, making a show of tonguing the stringy mess off his chopsticks. He eats spaghetti that Tracer makes for them, wiping marinara sauce off his lips with his fingers. /2

He eats cake, layered in so much cream frosting that it gets in his nose, in his beard, and he makes direct eyecontact with the cowboy when he pushes it into his mouth, muffling a gratuitous groan into the dessert. He hears McCree choke a flustered gasp, before shoving himself loudly away from the table and excusing himself, awkwardly tugging his jeans that tells Hanzo all that he needs to know. He sits back in his chair, smugly dabbing his lips with a napkin. Mealtimes have never been so fun.

oh my goooooooooooooooooooooooooddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd

yaaaaaaaaaaaaaasssssssssssssssssssssss

this is

EXACTLY 

what I was talking about

fuck