as has become usual, I kind of changed the prompt up a little bit to fit more comfortably in what I perceive them to be D: I’m sorry, I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

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“Keep your eyes on the cargo, McCree.”

“Not takin’ ‘em off, babe,” McCree easily agreed, leaving it to Hanzo to actually stare into the gloomy darkness while he tinkert around with the small heater Winston had send them off on mission with.

It wasn’t cold enough to actually need it – at least for McCree, since he was properly clothed; not like other men that liked to have their goods on show constantly – but it would be more than handy for what he had in mind.

“What are you doing?” Hanzo sighed deeply. He didn’t sound pissed off anymore; just resigned. McCree pulled out a flat container. “Smores,” he murmured, succinctly popping the lid open.

When he glanced at Hanzo, the archer looked unimpressed.

“You are a child,” was all he had to say before turning towards the cargo they were supposed to protect. He looked grumpy and sullen, but since that was his usual expression, Jesse had no idea what he was actually thinking.

“Gotta do something since I’m not allowed to smoke. And they’re tasty.”

“They’re sticky and sugary and you’re going to make a mess out of yourself.”

“Y’ can clean me up later if ya like, ma.”

He winked at Hanzo’s infuriated face, and busied himself with his smores. They were silent for a good while; Hanzo observing and Jesse enjoying his treats, until – 

“You smeared it into your beard, you big American oaf.”

McCree glanced at Hanzo from beneath his brim, confused at the unusually aggressive tone.

Hanzo, for his part, was staring at his chin from the corner of his eyes, and – was that a flush slowly darkening his face?

“You want one?” McCree asked in a slow drawl, offering the newest marshmallow he’d speared on a fork. Hanzo huffed. “I don’t want your childish sweets. Clean yourself up, you look undignified.”

McCree shrugged and rubbed the back of his hand half-heartedly across his chin. He let Hanzo stew in his own dignified hissiefit for a while before rescuing him from his own too serious mindset – as he so often did.

“Hey, Hanzo?”

“Wha-” he choked as McCree unceremoniously shoved a squishy smore into his mouth.

Jesse grinned good-naturedly and hit him on the back. “There you go! Jus’ like one of ‘em big boys!”

“…I detest you.”