Chapter Text
After a continuous onslaught of missions, the Overwatch team had been graced with a relatively rare moment of reprieve. This provided the perfect opportunity for Hazard to make good on his promise to take Hanzo Shimada out to dinner. It had been days since the usually stoic archer had agreed to his invitation, and Hazard was still over the moon. He felt nervous, wanting to impress (or at least not disappoint) the elder Shimada. On the other hand, Hanzo, though would never admit it outright, harbored a small sense of excitement for the evening.
Hanzo looked at his appearance in the mirror, donning a warm sweatshirt coupled with a thick black jacket for the chilly November evening. He smoothed the lapels of his jacket, while looking at the mirror. It has been... quite long since he had to prepare for such an occasion. This realization caused him to feel a bundle of nerves radiate from his chest to his palms. He took a deep breath as he gazed at the mirror once more. He felt resentment at the reflection staring back at him. Before his deprecating thoughts have a chance to intensify, he heard a heavy knock.
As the metallic door of his quarters slid open with a hiss, the archer was greeted with the sight of Hazard. The Scotsman was sporting a huge grin, wearing a cargo jacket that accentuated his muscular physique, and his hair unruly in just the right way. Hanzo's first thought that popped in his mind was... warm. That the other man looked warm. Hanzo rubbed his palms discreetly as nervousness washed over him. "Oi! Ye look real nice! Ready to go?" Hazard spoke, a smile evident in his words. The other merely nodded with a slight smile of his own.
- - - - -
The pair walked through the streets located in a small town ways away from the Watchpoint. Hazard mostly did the talking, sharing the details of a previous mission in Rialto with infectious energy. His unmistakable Scottish brogue cut through the cold air, enveloping the archer. Hanzo found out that moment in the night that he could listen to the other man talk for hours, his animated nature a more than welcome contrast to the thoughts that usually festered in his mind.
They soon found themselves seated in a modest pub. The establishment's overhead lights with an orange tint and the smell of warm food providing an almost homely atmosphere. Hazard continued his story, holding a glass of whisky, while Hanzo opted for sake (which the pub thankfully had, Hazard made sure). He waffled on, adding some embellishments to his narrative, wanting to make the archer quirk up a smile or let out a small laugh.
As Hanzo listens to the boisterous Scotsman, he could not help but feel at ease. His shoulders started to feel uncharacteristically lighter despite the burdens they carry. With the burdens the archer insists he should carry.
"-but yea! They cannae be serious 'bout that! Looks complete rubbish, aye?" Hazard said, pertaining to the Phreaks' past questionable decoration choices for their hideout.
Hanzo let out a light genuine chuckle, surprising even himself. The pair shared laughs throughout the evening.
- - - - -
With hours already passed and the food and drinks already had, Hazard and Hanzo had exited the pub, feeling pleasantly buzzed. They were greeted once more with the chilly air.
"Are ye cold?" Hazard inquired worriedly.
No. Not with you here. Hanzo thought in his head. Perhaps, the archer may find the courage to say these in the future, but for now, he resorted with a shake of the head with a small smile.
Not wanting the night to be over quite yet, the pair had decided to sit in a nearby bench.
The two sat together, comfortable silence stretching between the men. A few minutes went on when Hanzo finally found the words.
"Thank you, Hazard." He said, uncharacteristically shy, albeit genuine.
"What for?"
"For tonight. For being patient with me."
"Nothin' to thank me for! I should thank ye for coming." Hazard gave him a gentle smile.
Hanzo returned a small smile of his own. The archer could not help but feel apprehension with how the Scotsman seemed to easily tear down the walls he built around himself. Should he reinforce his fortress and continue building for eternity? Or maybe, just maybe, try to finally let someone new in?
With the soft lingering gaze the larger man is giving him, he thinks that he finally knows the answer.
With courage (and impulsiveness) he did not know he had, Hanzo rested his hand on Hazard's, their fingers almost slotting.
The larger man's eyes widened in surprise, and Hanzo almost pulled his hand back, afraid that he had overstepped. However, with the way Hazard interlaced their fingers together with a grin that could have rivaled the sun, he thinks that there is nothing to be afraid of, after all.