Chapter Text
The sunlight was soft and golden in the first moments of dawn on a little flower shop up on 9th street. The scent of coffee and baking bread was thick in the air from the cafe down the way. The owners already getting ready for the Saturday crowds. The district had been revitalized by the influx of new families and money now that the war was over and it was home to many small businesses.
Hanzo took a bite of his croissant, holding it in his mouth while he opened the front door. The key was still sticky in the lock from lack of use. The soft chime above the door made him smile, making crumbs fall on his simple black t-shirt. He brushed them off absently as he went to the counter to set his bag and jacket down.
The comforting quiet wrapped around him. He treasured the first hour of his day, setting out the flowers he would need for the morning orders. Checking the coolers to make sure his babies were doing well and pulling out trays of ribbons, beads, pearls and gemstones and the tools to use them, he found peace in the simple routine.
The sunlight crept across the floor and started up the side of the counter as he worked. His breakfast and coffee were consumed in contemplative quiet and were sorted into the trash and recycling bin.
This was his little piece of heaven. It had taken every bit of his savings and the bonus from his army days to get the property and cover the startup costs. Now he spent his days practicing the long-standing art of flower arranging. His grandmother would have been proud to see him sharing their culture with these westerners, even if he thought of himself as a simple florist. There was no need for the secret language and coded talk of traditional flower arranging these days.
As 9:00 am rolled around, he flipped the sign to open. The lane outside was already milling with people, mostly a younger crowd so far. Diverse and beautiful, they came from all over the world to visit and live in this little town on the northeast coast of the USA.
A few came in, looking for last minute gifts or just to browse. He helped them with a smile, advising the flustered boyfriend on which flowers begged for forgiveness and a young woman frantic for first date flowers.
Focusing his attention to the bridal bouquets he was assembling, the day began to flow by quickly. They were delicate, ethereal things with spilling greenery and silver threads woven into lace. Each took close to eight hours of labor to complete but the bride would spare no expense and paid in full. It had been a labor of love to create them. The bridal party would look stunning.
Hanzo took a moment to stretch, working on a kink in his neck from looking down and his green apron pulled tight around his chest. It already had pollen and little bits of baby’s breath stuck to it. He brushed them off and took a moment to straighten his hair ribbon and topknot. It was freshly shorn on the sides and back a week or so ago, part of his new beginning. He had decided against the nose bridge piercing at the last minute, not wanting to push his look too much. His customers might be young but facial piercings could still be off putting to those with too much money.
The back door opened with a musical note. “Good morning, Angela,” he smiled over his shoulder at the college student. She waved a hello, medical textbook tucked under one arm. Deep purple smudges under her eyes brought out the blue of her eyes. “Rough night?”
“I survived and so did the patient. So good night.” She set her bag under the counter and pulled on her apron. Her golden hair was up in a ponytail.
Hanzo resisted the urge to touch his own hair yet again. “Are you still available to assist with the wedding tonight?”
“Of course, I wouldn’t let you down now.” She lightly bumped into his shoulder with her own. They were the same height when she was wearing flats. “Besides, it’ll be nice to get out of the city, even for a bit.”
“I agree. Perhaps we will both have a night of good fortune.”
McCree hummed to himself, enjoying the bustle and hustle of the day. He shifted the heavy icing bag in his hand. Citrus French meringue buttercream in a blushing orange, the perfect slightly sweet topping for the cupcakes in front of him. They were for a wedding later that day, just out of town at a farm style venue.
He hoped they had horses out there. He would only drop the cupcakes off of course but still. Could be fun. The wedding couple had been in a few weeks ago to make the order. THey had waited to the last minute but he didn’t mind the rush. The bakery was still small enough he took any job he could get.
They did good on days like today, sunny and warm after a chilly week. They streets were full and people always wanted a sweet treat. Lucio was zipping around on those weird shoes with wheels in the heels making coffees and teas to go with the little sweets. The boy had more energy than anyone he’d ever seen and was a lifesaver on Saturdays.
Lena worked the small dining area and the patio, serving pastries and cakes and cookies along with their drinks. It let him stay off to the side, working on orders. The other pastry chef would be in around 3 to take over for him on their basic stock so he could finish up the wedding order.
He liked being able to see the shop and be seen in the mornings and lunch. Plus, he got to do his favorite part of the job.
A gang of little kids were pressed to the shop window, talking excitedly and trying to drag their reluctant parents into the shop. He caught Lena’s eye and she nodded, swooping over with a tray of the fresh, warm chocolate chip cookies.
He snagged a handful of bakery tissue paper and headed outside. “These young’uns look might hungry,” he greeted the parents with his best charming smile. The two men were rather intimidating looking older men, maybe mid 40s. They both had scaring across their faces and held themselves like military men.
“They shouldn’t be,” the white haired man huffed, crossing his arms over his broad chest.
“C’mon, they’ve been good,” the latino man grinned, sending a shiver of heat down McCree’s body. God he was beautiful and terrifying. “Plus then you can have something sweet too.”
The two kids groaned loudly. “Uuuuuugh, stop being gross dad.” The bigger of the two shoved her hands into her pockets.
“Never.”
“Not a chance.”
“You’re so embarrassing.” She rolled her eyes, pulling out her phone. She had some weird gloves with purple and pink tips, tapping away rapidly.
McCree stifled a laugh,
“Paaaapaaaa, can I please have a cookie?” the smaller girl asked, reaching her hands up to the tray.
The latino man grinned, scooping her up and holding her in one arm. “Sure thing, Bunbun.”
Jesse’s heart was warm and big in his chest, picking up a cookie in a tissue and handing it to the little girl.
“Thaaaaaank you,” she grinned, nibbling with her front teeth. Crumbs fell to her pink shirt and he squinted to read the text. Korean he thought, something about bunny blast off. It had been years since he was stationed in Seoul.
The rest of the group took cookies, cooing their phrases and he couldn’t be prouder. A happy family enjoying his baking on a Saturday outing. They took their leave after some pleasantries, promising to be back sometime for a proper meal and sweets.
When he returned to the shop, Lena was smirking like a cheshire cat.
“What? Somethin’ on my face?” he asked, rubbing a hand over his neatly trimmed beard.
“Nah, love, just look like yer dreamin’,” the little British woman sipped her espresso behind the counter
“Heh… just a cute family is all.” He busied himself, washing his hands and getting back to his cupcakes. Seeing couples like that filled him with hope. It was possible to be happy and in love and have a family with a husband.
“Oh Jesse,” she sighed, wiping her hands on her apron before going out to refill a table’s glasses.
He knew he was a sap with too many romance novels. There was one tucked into his jacket inside pocket below the counter right now. Lena had found out about his secret addiction because she was a delightfully nosey woman. She had even bought him a couple over the years they’d been working together. First at a five star restaurant on the upper east side, sharing messed up orders in a supply closet and dreaming about marrying rich, dashing business men that came in and now here in his little startup.
She was one of the first people he had come out to. It had been easy as she was always bragging about her icy French girlfriend and trying to get everyone together for drinks. They had formed a little community, supporting each other as they struggled through their twenties.
Now he was thirty-three and running his own business. Doing okay too. Enough to keep everyone fed well and have some money for fun. His own apartment was above the shop. It was small but warm and lovingly furnished. It was a sanctuary to retreat to after a long day.
And not having to get up an hour early to ride a train into the city was a lifesaver. Working into the late hours of the night felt safer too when home was just upstairs. Sometimes Lena ended up in the spare bedroom for the night as the nearest bus pickup was two blocks over.
The afternoon got on, leaving him to work on the front case and then move into the back room to dress his waiting cakes. Dark cherry fudge with lemon zest buttercream and edible flowers. It was going to be a beautiful piece. The crumb layers were already on and he had the decorations chilling.
“Jesse.”
He looked up, startled almost to find Lena in the doorway shaking her head. “You gotta go get cleaned up for the delivery, it’s almost 6 already!”
“Shit, thanks, sweetheart,” he jumped up, placing the last edible pearl next to a flower and hustled out the back door. He would put on some clean flannel and nice jeans and go.
He hated being late.
Hanzo gathered the bridal party’s bouquets while Angela loaded the coolers in the van with the center pieces. She was chatting happily on the phone with her best friend. Her cheeks were pink though. He smiled and shook his head. He might indulge in his desire to meddle after all if things kept up.
When the order was loaded, he slipped into the back room to put on his 3 piece suit. It was always a good idea to dress up when meeting a client, and especially going to a wedding. The groom was a powerful businessman and the bride was a young woman from a good old blood family.
The only reason he was working the wedding was because of his brother. He had a way with charming everyone he ran into. Including the dignitaries visiting from Nepal and was at state dinners and actual balls these days. The pictures were sure to amuse. Genji always getting his phone confiscated for snapchatting with people he shouldn’t.
Hanzo snorted as he pulled on his jacket at the thought. His brother had apparently gotten drunk with the bride at her engagement party at a swanky club. Supposedly he had charmed her with his fabulous self and they had all danced with his gay friends and protected them from the wolves.
He seriously doubted much of the story was true but he had gotten the opportunity to do something artistic and high end. It brought him much joy.
Finding his gold scarf, he carefully tied his hair up. Perfect. He would make a good impression.
“Shimada-san, it’s time,” Angela knocked on the door softly. “I’ll drive. You might be able to get a short nap in.”
“Thank you, Miss Ziegler,” his voice held a playful tease and he followed her out to the van, locking up carefully behind him. The shop would be closed for the rest of the day. He might indulge in a nap on the drive or something else. He angled himself in the seat and got his phone out. He had been wanting to read this book all day. And didn’t want his sweet shop assistant to question what it was or why it made him blush at times.
The ride went faster than he would have guessed, letting Angela handle the drive. Expertly weaving through the traffic and taking the highway out of the city. They would arrive early to get things set up and perhaps give their congratulations to the couple personally.
They didn’t talk much, both enjoying the silence and unfolding landscape. Gently rolling hills giving way to lightly forested with dirt roads. Hanzo only looked up at a bump or rattle of their goods. The story was too good to give up, losing himself in fantasy.
When they arrived, he made introductions with the wedding party’s managers and began to work. Guests were going to the lodge to mingle before the main event started. It gave them time to set up the reception area on the massive deck overlooking the forest where thousands of lights were strung up.
It was a very enjoyable site. He would not mind meditating somewhere along the lake after his work was completed. He had been invited to stay and enjoy the festivities. Angela had already found new friends and began her networking. She was excellent at bringing in new business and making contacts. It left him free to finish and wander off on his own.
He carried a large bouquet of extra flowers out onto the deck. He liked to have them on hand to spruce things up if needed. And to just add another layer to the sweet florals. He could barely see over the riot of peachy pink roses. His arms were full with his bag of tools and the flowers. It was more by sense than sight that guided him down the halls and out onto the deck.
Turning sideways to get through the doorway, he squinted into the setting sun. It was too hard to see and his bangs fell in front of his eyes and the roses smacked him in the face in a sudden breeze.
He didn’t see the door threshold until it was too late, catching his toe and stumbling forward. He cursed as he started to go down, unbalanced and trying desperately not to get a face full of thorns.
“Woah, careful!” A large hand caught his left bicep, pulling him up. The heavy bag mysteriously disappearing from his other hand.
His face was burning as he stared up at his rescuer. Soft brown eyes. He swallowed, letting himself be eased up and straightened casually. The now somewhat battered roses held to his chest.
“Hold still, Darlin’,” Hanzo obeyed, mouth slightly parted as the taller man reached over. He smelled like peaches and cream, sugary sweet. “There we go.” Long fingers reached past his jaw, lightly tracing across the side of his throat. “Didn’t want you t’get hurt.”
Hanzo swallowed as the man held up the offending rose, the stem half broken. His heart was thundering. “Thank you,” his hand went to his neck without thinking, feeling a lingering petal and brushing it off. “I didn’t mean to… disturb you.”
“Ain’t no thing.”
Hanzo shifted his weight, looking down at the mussed roses. “You have my thanks.” He realized his tool bag was in the man’s hand. “Ah, if you would not mind,” he paused to collect himself, “assisting me to my workstation?” he nodded his head towards the table in the back where his supplies where.
“Not at all,” McCree smiled down at him, a splash of white against his gorgeous brown skin. Hanzo’s knees felt weak again. “Name’s Jesse McCree, and what can I call ya, darlin’?”
Anything. His mind supplied helpfully. “Shimada Hanzo,” he walked in step with the taller man, focusing on his flowers.
“Shimada?” the surprise in McCree’s voice made him look up. “No way,” the man laughed, warm golden bells tolling. “Are you Genji’s brother?”