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Their relationship leaves much to theory and speculation, but one could say it started through a simple exchange of words that neither anticipated to turn into what it did.
It began with Jesse pulling Genji into cover before he knew that sword of his could deflect the bullets coming at them. “Be careful out there, pardner,” he said, and meant it in honest camaraderie between Overwatch and Blackwatch agents, but the words seemed to puzzle Genji, who cocked his head to the side, and somehow felt tense underneath his metallic exterior. Jesse thought he could feel muscles tighten, but he figured it must be his imagination since he was sure Genji was an omnic and omnics could not physically flex with tension.
Genji’s confused silence was awkward and McCree kept talking. “Reckon you wouldn’t be useful as a corpse.”
Genji gently wrenched himself from the not-too-tight grip on his arm and the glow on his visor dimmed just a fraction. Jesse isn’t quite sure what the fading glow was meant to represent, and he still doesn’t know. Genji’s voice is firm but reassuring when he says, “You know nothing of what I can do. I do not need saving,” with that robotic synth running through his voice. It was worded like a warning, but its tone suggested a kind of watch and learn disposition that he learns is typical of the cyborg, but at this point was still new to.
Genji was unafraid when he removes himself from the cover, leaving McCree to do nothing but observe him as bullets pling off of his blade and Genji slices through his enemies like a hot knife through butter. He was a sight to behold, and his movements were so fluid that McCree couldn’t help but think he looked human.
Once the ordeal was over, Jesse whistled appreciatively at Genji’s handiwork and tipped his hat in what was probably a gesture of coy apology. “Shoot, didn’t mean ta underestimate ya. Just didn’t figure it was possible to move that fast,”
Genji stepped over a body casually and paused to look at him. Genji seemed amused by McCree’s naivete. Guess I’m not the only one here who can pull a stunt or two, McCree mused to himself, and Genji’s tone is just this side of light when he replies finally.
“I did not join Overwatch for no reason,” He sheaths his sword and starts to walk off without him. “Like I said, you know nothing.”
McCree learned shortly thereafter that Genji was not an omnic, but a cyborg. A former human and former son of the Shimada clan, for that matter. The same kind of Shimada that summoned dragons and practically held a monopoly on the Japanese black market.
He mentioned none of it to Genji, he didn’t want to bring up any bad blood when Genji already seemed on edge. Besides, it’s not like Genji knew of McCree’s former belief that he was an omnic and making that belief known didn’t seem wise; he didn’t take the cyborg as the type to take kindly to being mistaken for something he wasn’t.
And, upon closer inspection, something he very clearly wasn’t. The organic lines of his body and synthetic muscle where real ones used to be were proof enough that Genji was not one hundred percent machine. But Genji never lost the visor and Jesse never paid too much mind to the workings of an omnic’s body, so he just wasn’t bothered to notice. But it made sense and he didn’t complain about taking assignments with him since it turned out swift assassination made a mighty fine complement to bold execution. They went together like cream and strawberries, so Jesse figured if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.
Their first mission together after Jesse learns of Genji’s origins was a hectic one. They were typically outnumbered quite a bit, but this time the reinforcements just kept coming and McCree had already used Deadeye once. Genji rhythmically started opening the vents on his shoulders and excreting warm steam from them with a robotic hiss, indicating that the effort was causing his system to start to overwork itself, and that wasn’t a good sign either.
“Well, ain’t this a right jam we’re in,” McCree’s eyebrows were knitted together in thought as he loads up Peacekeeper, spinning the barrel and taking a drag of his cigar that was longer than usual. “Whaddaya s’pose we do?” Smoke rose from Jesse’s cigar and Genji’s vents simultaneously, and Genji seemed to be just as irritated by the whole mess as Jesse was.
Genji offered no response until something silently clicked inside of him and he started to move more frantically than McCree’s ever seen him. “I have an idea but you will have to trust me. It is not often I do this,” He peeked around a wall to make sure the enemies are still adamant on pursuing them, and McCree raises an eyebrow.
“You got some kinda ace in the hole?”
“Something like that,”
McCree smirked, and Genji’s hand went to his sword hilt, fingers slowly encircling it, hesitant and methodical. “Well far be it for me to stop ya. Let ‘em have it, pardner,”
It was fast, maybe too fast for human eyes to comprehend. McCree remembers a cry of, “Ryuujin no ken wo kurae!” and then a green light surrounding him in a form he couldn’t recognize at first, he had to look twice just to make sure he was seeing it correctly.
A dragon, large as life itself, surrounded Genji and it roared as it devoured their opponents in a swift movement. Screaming was quickly silenced by Genji’s blade cutting them short, and he was nothing but a neon streak moving so gracefully it was like some kind of lethal dance. It was dark and they were in an alley, so the lights on Genji’s body twinkled twice as brilliantly, leaving lines of light with each movement, even the subtle ones. The sight fascinated him, left him slack jawed and intoxicated even as a blast of brisk air hits him and blows his hat straight off his head, leaving it to tumble in the breeze.
Genji finished up, standing there among the carnage with the dragon twisting and coiling around him. Genji’s vents open to release steam one last time, and McCree heard him saying something to the dragon in Japanese before it dissipated and McCree was left there speechless.
Genji turned to him and they looked at each other for a while, the light on Genji’s visor flickering.
McCree’s hat blowed to Genji’s feet and he picks it up off the ground only to place it back on McCree, the brim going a bit too far past his eyes, but that was likely intentional.
“I can handle myself, aibou.”
Then he started to leave. And McCree can’t help but think that Genji had already proven it. And fuck if he knew what ‘aibou’ meant but the way he said it was all he needed to understand.
After that, it had become a kind of arms race between the two to see who could flirt with the other the most effectively. Namely in the form of dropping nicknames like it was nothing.
McCree didn’t figure Genji to be such a flirt, especially not one that could match him, but he had surprised him on more than one occasion.
Above all, Genji was a tease. He loved to leave McCree thinking there’d be more to their flirtations but he’d leave it hanging just as abruptly as he’d initiate it.
“Aibou” was Genji’s favorite. It kept him on a level of familiarity with McCree, the same as McCree calling him “partner,” but it always seemed to cross a line between friendly and affectionate. (Which, to be fair, was something Jesse also did on a regular basis, most often to Genji since Genji could always volley his flirting right back to him until the proverbial ball was in his court and stayed in his court. Genji always ‘won.’)
He’d tease him with lines like, “Think you can handle this without my help, aibou?” or “Dropped this, aibou,” while pressing McCree’s hat to his chest.
“Much obliged, darlin’,” he’d say back, although something about looking down at the line of Genji’s mask and not at a pair of eyes made him nervous. That sense of mystery and anonymity left McCree feeling anxious somehow, like he was flirting with someone or something he didn’t quite match up with. And not just because McCree was basically just a kid from a gang who joined Blackwatch to avoid prison while Genji was an elite assassin hired to Overwatch for an express reason, leaving McCree’s homebrewed style of fighting feeling somewhat inferior to that of a trained ninja. It wasn’t just that, it was also because the visor had never come off to reveal Genji’s human side, Genji was - to him - more a masked figure representing the crossing of boundaries between them rather than an actual person. He recognized Genji as partly human, but it never quite hit him.
Not until the mask came off for the first time.
They had a long battle together, but Genji got roughed up pretty bad. A bullet had actually managed to hit him, something that scarcely happened beyond a mere grazing against his synthetic flesh. Once the battle was over, he slumped against a wall and groaned, holding his side, and McCree noticed that one of the glowing vents he could usually see through his jumpsuit was completely dim. The bullet was lodged somewhere in there, and blood seeped out just slightly, in a slow trickle, staining his jumpsuit red.
“Shit, Genji, fuck,” McCree cursed, an arm around one of his shoulders. He had promised medics would see to him soon, but assessing the damage closer, they’d need Angela rather than just any medic, he’d need repairs to his armor after this. “You gonna be ok, sugar?”
Genji seethes as pressure is put on the wound, just enough to stunt the bleeding. Genji’s hands are shaky as they come up to unlatch something at the sides of his mask. A mechanical hiss and then the faceplate comes off, the reveal catching McCree by surprise.
He’s handsome, but his face is marred by dark scars. His breathing comes out harshly and his eyes are just a bit glassy as he has a sideways little smirk growing on his face. Even now, he was still playing this game.
“I’ll be fine, querido,” The Spanish word rolls off his tongue like it’s his first time saying it, and it probably was. He sits up more, wincing in pain, and McCree’s hand tightens on Genji’s shoulder. When Genji looks up at McCree, the cowboy has a look of concern and he swallows hard when he makes eye contact with Genji for the first time (well, not the first time , but it’s the first time he sees those brown eyes staring back at him). Genji gives a weak laugh. “See something you like?”
Jesse’s face burns despite knowing he wasn’t guilty of anything. Genji was beautiful, but this moment was too serious and too worrying for McCree to be thinking about how Genji looked without his faceplate. He shakes him just slightly, to keep him from going to sleep and to nudge him playfully given their position. “For once I gotta be the one to tell ya to be serious,” McCree says, but the light-hearted tone to his voice is overshadowed by concern. “I ‘preciate the thought but we gotta keep you awake, ya hear?”
“Nn,” Genji purrs and he blinks hard. He shifts and takes in a sharp gasp, causing Jesse to ask if he’s okay again. Genji nods, but his hiss when he props himself up on a brick wall beside them suggests otherwise.
“...I am sorry you had to see me like this,” Genji says slowly, and McCree notices in the back of his mind how different he sounds without the metallic filter of his visor obscuring his rich voice, now hoarse with strain.
“Now why would you say that? I don’t think nothin’ of it,”
“...Am I not an eyesore?” He sounds pained, but not in light of his injury. He sounds like… like he’s vulnerable, like he could break any second. McCree doesn’t know the details of what happened to him, just knows there was an incident, but he doesn’t doubt for a second that how he feels is because of that.
McCree huffs out a breath through his nose, smiles bittersweetly. “Yer the exact opposite, sweetheart,” he reassures him, genuinely unsure if Genji is loopy from the injury or not. “Yer a knock out, Genji.”
Genji’s smile becomes half-hearted and he looks down at the cement below them, and something about it makes him seem like he doesn’t quite believe McCree. “...You are sweet, aibou. Thank you.”
McCree grasps at Genji’s hand, rubbing the back of it with his thumb, feeling the ridges of his prosthetics. “Don’t mention it, darlin’. Now enough of that, we got other things to worry about,”
Genji smiles.
From then on, he looks at Genji differently. After seeing his face, hearing his true voice, listening to his insecurities, it’s easier to make the connection between Genji and human; more specifically, Genji and object of his affection.
Genji started out cold, but beneath his exterior was unmistakable warmth. McCree can’t help but feel some contempt towards whoever did this to Genji, to whoever made him doubt himself and made him into what he is. On some level, he wants to know what Genji was like before he became a cyborg, but McCree takes it as it comes. To him, Genji is perfect, cyborg or not, scarred or not.
They continue to flirt with each other regularly and that’s alright by him. Genji doesn’t bring up the incident of McCree seeing his face, and all goes back to normal.
They go on missions together and McCree goes back to tilting his hat up and saying, “Well, sweetheart, you goin’ my way?” when they meet up at their checkpoint right before heading out. This earns a chuckle from Genji, whose laugh sounds like bells and makes a strange warmth spread throughout McCree’s chest, and he doesn’t know it but he’s grinning.
Things between them only change once Genji is inevitably moved to a different base for a while in order to carry out the big Shimada operation in Hanamura.
“This will be our last assignment before I transfer to Hanamura,” Genji says solemnly as they leave for their final mission together. Genji is more introspective than normal, and McCree wants to know what’s going on in that pretty little head of his but he’s afraid he won’t like it if he hears it.
“Guess it is, yeah,” McCree nudges Genji with his elbow. “Better make it one to remember, eh? Y’know, just in case,”
Genji is not annoyed, but rather gives a dry laugh. “Are you implying I will die?”
“Nah, not that, I’m just sayin’ it’d be a shame if you moved to the other base for good.”
Genji cocks his head to the side again, like he did when they went on their first mission. “If it were up to me, I wouldn’t. I would want to stay here with you.”
“I’d want you to stay too, darlin’,”
They go on their mission as normal and it’s sunset when they start to return, but Genji stops him with a hand on his arm, gripping him very lightly so as not to lose control of his strength. McCree turns.
When he does, Genji reaches behind his head to unlock his faceplate again. He is wordless.
“You don’t have to if you don’t wanna,” McCree mumbles, eyes downcast as a precaution. “If it makes you uncomfortable to show me, I mean,”
“No, I want you to see,” Genji says lowly. He removes the faceplate and then the visor entirely, revealing all of his face that there was. Scars run like small rivers across his face, red and angry and some deeper than others. They cover eyelids, the bridge of his nose, everything. His ears are missing, replaced with mechanical audio receptors. Part of his jaw has been reconstructed with metal and part of the back of his head is metal-plated too. Tufts of black hair spill out like ink, covering his forehead.
But his deep brown eyes, so dark he can barely make out his pupils from his irises, are warm and the reflection of the sunset makes them sparkle brilliantly. He is beautiful, so beautiful.
“I also want to make this a mission to remember,” his voice is quiet, clear as morning and as lovely as a sparrow’s song. “Jesse.”
McCree feels so dense and he doesn’t get it until arms go around his neck and pull him down and suddenly their lips are pressed together softly. It’s surprising, but not unwelcome, and McCree’s hands move to hold Genji’s waist. He can feel a scar across Genji’s lips, splitting them, but it’s the best kiss of his life.
He notices Genji is standing on his toes to reach him and McCree remedies this by scooping him up and lifting him. Genji gasps but immediately starts laughing, and McCree can’t help but laugh with him. It’s harder to kiss him while they’re both smiling like idiots but they keep meeting and parting until they’ve made their point. He sets Genji back down, pecking him one last time before finally letting him go.
“...I love ya, Genji,”
Genji grins so wide and he’s as stunning as the sun setting just below the horizon. Pinks and purples reflect off Genji’s scars, and he couldn’t look more gorgeous if he tried. “ Un, daisuki da yo, aibou.”
Genji returns to Jesse but only for a short time.
It’s abrupt when he leaves, in the middle of the night with only a note left for McCree only. No one except Gabriel and McCree knew where he was going.
I will never forget you , it said. McCree spends time punching the wall for a while, forehead pressed against it as he sinks to his knees. Genji didn’t intend on coming back, he left McCree after all was said and done between them. Genji’s intentions were good, he left on his own merits and for good enough reason, but it still broke McCree and he didn’t know who to be mad at.
Days wore on. Then months. He had missions but none of them felt the same. He didn’t speak of Genji leaving, no one did. Not even Angela brought it up.
Then, slowly but surely, Overwatch began to disband. It slowly dwindled down to nothing. He lost Genji, he lost Reyes, he even lost Morrison and Amari. Everything he had was gone, again, and he was back at square one.
He tried not to cry, he really did.
Time wore on.
When McCree came back after so many years, he was not expecting the turnout it got. Old faces like Lena and Angela were there, but also new ones. This was a comfort, even though things were not the same as they were.
However, he was not expecting to see Genji. Not after all that happened.
He finds him just outside the base, near a cliff lit by the sunset, after the first briefing is over. This time, the stars hung in the sky among the orange glow and the moon was out earlier than usual. Below it stood Genji Shimada, staring right at him with his visor lit brilliantly and the lights on his body flashing bright. Genji wasn’t obscured by a jumpsuit this time and he stands taller and more confidently than ever before, and he radiates an aura that Jesse can’t quite describe.
“Gen-”
The ninja is in his arms not a moment later, McCree’s hat flying right off and his body frozen in surprise for a split second until instincts overpower him and he’s embracing him back, swinging him around playfully.
“Lord, Genji, it’s really you,”
“It’s really me, aibou, ”
They break apart momentarily, Genji frantic to get his faceplate off. For the first time that he’s known Genji, he’s frantic to take off his visor .
“I missed you so much, sweetheart, you have no idea,” he says as the faceplate falls to the ground beside McCree’s hat and Genji’s face is exposed. His scars have faded a bit, and signs of his age are evident. Genji is teary-eyed and smiling, and seeing that smile after so long is like finding an oasis in the desert. A tear falls and McCree kisses it away, Genji giggling like he missed this as much as McCree did.
“Shame to see such a beautiful thing cryin’,” he laughs, and their foreheads touch as Jesse’s thumbs wipe away the tears threatening to fall from the corners of Genji’s eyes.
He lets Genji kiss him, desperate and loving and just as sweet as he remembers.
“I love you, querido, and I’m sorry for leaving you--”
“Shh, darlin’, it’s alright. What’s in the past is in the past,” he kisses the top of Genji’s head, and they stay like that for a while. “I love ya more than anything, Genji. I could never stay mad at you. C’mere,”
They don’t stop kissing each other and laughing until the sun is down, night falling like a veil over them. McCree doesn’t mind, the night reminding him of the last mission he spent with Genji.
They agree they have a lot to catch up on after all the time they lost, but they have all that time and more to spend with each other, so McCree is more than happy to oblige him.
He hooks an arm with Genji’s and their fingers intertwine.
“You goin’ my way, sugar?”