Link to AO3 Page

You sat in the cafeteria, nursing your food. A table over, that large man you knew as Reinhardt slapped the cowboy, McCree, on the back. He hit the man harder than he intended, because McCree slapped face-first into his food. Reinhardt gasped in horror, and then the cowboy lifted his food-dripping face to glare at the large man. Genji sat on the other side of McCree, shoulders shaking with poorly-contained laughter.

You watched them with longing, wishing you were laughing with them. Specifically, sitting next to Genji. Maybe leaning against him, holding his hand under the table, exploring the cybernetic parts of his hand with your fingers.

“I am no stranger to pining looks at my brother.”

You ducked your head at that. Hanzo sat down the table from you, judging you with a flat expression. How he got there without you noticing, you didn’t know. He just sort of appeared there with his neat-looking sandwich with all the dressings and the wheat bread, putting your heated leftovers to shame. You wanted to flatten yourself against the table. Then roll into a ball. Then roll on out of the room. Disappear. You had been caught pining like a teenager. You knew it, he knew it.

“Can we please change the subject?”

You pleaded with your eyes. He nodded. You straightened your posture and faced him with your whole body, taking it upon yourself to choose the next talking point.

“What made you decide to cut your hair like that? I heard you had beautiful hair,” Hanzo narrowed his eyes just enough that you detected it, “I mean, not that your hair isn’t nice now. I like it!”

You hopefully backpedaled enough for him to realize you meant no offense. And it was true, you did like his haircut. You wondered if the buzzcut part of it was soft to the touch. There was no way a man like him would let you reach out and feel.

“I just liked it.”

Oh, thank goodness. He wasn’t mad.

“Fair enough,” you said. “Same with the piercings?”

Hanzo nodded again.

The conversation almost died right there and with it a good first impression. You were horrified inside, blaming yourself. Hanzo looked away, brushing lint off his light grey, long-sleeve shirt.

“Genji said I should get to know everyone,” he admitted. He didn’t sound convinced, and his eyelids dipped in a way that gave him an unimpressed expression.

“Probably wise,” you said.

Hanzo looked you in the eye again. His stare was more intense than most. His beauty made up for any discomfort at being regarded so intensely. You would have forgotten about his brother had Hanzo not mentioned him just now.

“I thought we were changing the subject,” you pointed out.

Hanzo looked away again, giving your gaze the opportunity to break from his and slide down the curve of his cheekbones and settle in his lips.

“I know that everyone wants to know what happened between us, my brother and I.”

It was no secret that a lot of agents have been gossiping about what happened between these two. But that doesn’t mean you were tactless enough to ask one of them to their face.

“Yes,” you said, leaning forward, “but we don’t have to talk about it.” Your hand cut through the air to underscore what you said.

Hanzo eyed you for a few seconds, deciding whether or not you were sincere. You were, so you just stared back. He sighed to himself and looked down.

“I had liked the idea of getting piercings since I was a child,” he said. You smiled, happy that he was being honest. You felt like you were getting somewhere with this man. You rested your cheek in your hand and your elbow on the table, watching him speak. “I had wanted to do this for so long that getting them did not feel like rebellion. It felt like relief.”

Your eyebrows flew up. “Wow.” You had never heard anyone describe piercing their flesh as relief.

“Yes,” he said softly.

You regarded him for a moment.

“You know…we can’t really have a proper conversation with you sitting all the way over there.”

Hanzo got up and moved his tray next to yours, but not before giving you a look that said he would blame you if this ended in disaster.

That encouraged you to be friendlier out of spite.

The two of you ate in silence for the next few minutes. Hanzo was close enough that you heard the crunch of the lettuce when he bit into his sandwich.

“What else do you do for…‘relief’?” you asked, restarting the conversation.

Hanzo eyed you again, and you realized how suggestive that sounded.

“I just, I-I meant that-”

“I know what you meant,” Hanzo cut in dismissively. “You are interested in my brother, therefore you wouldn’t flirt with me.”

You couldn’t look at him the handsome man and say that wasn’t true.

But the moment passed, because Hanzo went on to answer your question.

Turns out the two of you fit together well as friends. You encountered him naturally because of your jobs as agents, and he gravitated to your side more and more to make a comment or two, sparking a conversation.

You both had a love of being alone on your off time, but when you were together, you were so comfortable that it was like you were alone. Hanzo didn’t require you to talk to him or keep him entertained. When you did talk, the conversation flowed easily. While he was blunt, and sometimes that hurt, he didn’t seek to hurt you. It didn’t take long for you to learn that, and to start correcting him when he went too far.

You listened to Hanzo speak about any topic with genuine interest, but when he spoke of Genji, you mentally tucked away anything you learned. Hanzo noticed your interest. You tried to hide it by pressing your lips together, but the corners of your mouth twitched upwards. You looked elsewhere, but your eyes crinkled with joy.

“What do you see in him, anyway?” he asked one day.

“He’s so chill. But every once in a while, he’ll throw out a comment that makes you wanna punch him. Or kiss him. Not sure which.”

Hanzo sighed.

“I could never understand why some people would want to listen to him.”

“You do the same thing,” you shot back. Hanzo sniffed. “Also, the vibration in his voice; it’s cute.”

His face screwed up into a mix of confusion and disgust at the reference to his brother’s cyborg body.

“You like what he has become?”

“I do. He’s still a man,” you said. “Well, that nice ass doesn’t hurt.”

“I see,” Hanzo answered with that deep voice of his.

You thought the conversation died right there. You settled back into your knitting. The scarf you were making for Lena’s birthday was getting tighter the more rows you added. You sighed at the length of wool in your lap, but continued. Lena wouldn’t mind; she would appreciate the thought either way.

“You should tell him.”

“No,” you always replied, refusing to hear different.

And Hanzo always looked at you like you were being a fool. And maybe you were, but that was your decision as an adult.

Hanzo continued to stare at you. But this time he didn’t wear the contempt you thought was rude and wanted to slap off his gorgeous face (one of these days, the look of shock will be worth it). Hanzo looked through you, weariness in his expression. Then he blinked and lifted his chin, gazing at you again.

“If you won’t, I will.”

Hanzo put his bow aside on your bed and got up to leave.

“No, Hanzo, please,” you begged, getting up as well to jog towards him, but the door was already shut behind him.

Hanzo brushed your words aside. He was tired of your foolishness. It gave him room to hope and believe you would fall for him instead, and forget his brother. It was time to put that hope to rest. He didn’t know what Genji would say, but Hanzo had put the truth out there. And nudge Genji in your direction.

Hanzo stood silently behind Genji, who sat perfectly still and cross-legged on one of the higher roofs of the watchpoint. His ribbon floating on the wind was the only thing about him that stirred.

“Hanzo?” Genji said simply, sensing Hanzo behind him.

“I came to talk.”

“Have a seat,” Genji said, twisting in his seat to hold out a hand in the space next to him.

“Unlike someone like you, I do not think I could sit on the hard floor for very long.”

“If you are attempting to say that now that I am a cyborg, I am a ‘hard ass’….”

Genji pulled a small, purple pillow from beneath his seat and held it in the air for Hanzo to see.

Hanzo huffed.

Genji slipped the pillow back underneath him. “Just sit, Hanzo.”

You fussed for the two hours that Hanzo left you hanging. You spammed him with messages. He usually checked the messages and got back to you in his own time. Right now he wasn’t even checking his messages.

“Come to my room,” was the message he finally sent after what felt like forever. The irritating man always phrased requests like orders.

You’re going to go to his room, all right. You’re going to give him a piece of your mind and then leave. But when you stormed into Hanzo’s room, he wasn’t alone. Genji was standing next to him.

You couldn’t look Genji in the visor. You were kind of shrunken in on yourself, hunched, and feeling that need to disappear again.

“You are sure about this?” Genji said in Japanese to Hanzo. “She won’t even look at me.”

“Do not be rude,” spat Hanzo. “Speak English.”

“You are right,” Genji said, switching back to English. He turned to you. “I apologize.”

“It’s fine,” you said quickly.

Genji took your hand and lifted it to waist-level.

“Look at me,” he implored.

You did, and he curled his fingers around your hand in a proper handhold.

“That’s better, isn’t it?”

You imagined that he was smiling at you behind his mask as he said that. You were gazing at him, and your heart was soaring. Flying off into the clouds, taking your brain function with it.

Hanzo grunted in annoyance at your moony state. It snapped you out of it, and you glared at him. Him, standing there with judgment in his eyes and his crossed arms.

“Excuse me, Mister Miserable? Don’t you try to bring me down and make me miserable like you.”

“That is not fair,” Genji said. “He is only this grumpy, because you didn’t notice his feelings for you.”

Your brain function halted again, and your jaw dropped. Then you recovered and yelled, “What?!”

You let go of Genji’s hand and turned to give Hanzo your full attention, demanding and waving your hands, “Why didn’t you tell me? You have been giving me so much shit ever since I met you. We’re not on a playground where pulling a girl’s hair is an appropriate way to signal you like someone!”

Hanzo arched a brow at you in confusion. You forgot he told you that he and Genji grew up with private tutors and probably never set foot on a school playground. Still, you had a point.

“I think I can answer this one, as well,” Genji said, amused with an undertone of wicked intent.

“No,” Hanzo said, glancing at his brother, “I will do it.”

“I’m waiting,” you said, hands on hips.

With the same weariness you saw earlier, Hanzo uncrossed his arms in preparation to tell you the truth.

“I sat near you in the cafeteria all those months ago, because I was drawn to you. And then,” he paused, and a blush spread across his cheeks, to his horror, “And then you tolerated my presence so well after that. You find me rough around the edges, and maybe I am. But you never left. Once I realized you were not going to leave, I…may…have…fallen in love with you.”

He finished with dark, rosy cheeks, but with a stubborn stare. Refusing to let his embarrassment overwhelm his ability to look you in the eye.

“I feel so comfortable around you!” Hanzo blurted, then more quietly, “But you have feelings for Genji.”

Your face softened, because you felt bad. Here were two great guys, and you somehow ended up in a love triangle with them. This was going to end badly.