A Ko-fi reward for Sharkbait who requested some nervous McCree before his and Sombra’s wedding. Thanks for the hot cocoa, doll! I hope you enjoy this fluffy moment before McCree and Sombra exchange their vows.
McSombra. 500 word drabble. Fluff. Slight Angst/Comfort.
“Jesse, your eyes better be closed.”
“They’re shut tight, darlin’.” McCree grins, aside from the rolling tensions moving throughout his ribcage. This is her day, she will make sure everything is exactly how she wants it.
She saw him earlier this morning when he was getting ready. Without a doubt, he can say that was the longest he’s ever prepared for something. The tuxedo with a white jacket, purple vest and purple bowtie dons him smartly. Her choice of colors. He has his hair neatly down thanks to Mercy and he hasn’t touched his hat upon his head once. Even trimmed his beard for this.
Their wedding.
Sombra’s breath echoes softly. He’s leaning against the wall of her personal room, where he really shouldn’t be but is anyways. The presence of her is as familiar as the foxglove fainting touching upon her skin and hair.
“Eres muy guapo.” Her fingers hook around his in a long, tender moment. Long, delicate fabric swishes softly but he doesn’t peek. The desperate need to see her in all of her glory walking down the aisle is what keeps him steady. “You clean up nicely, vaquero.”
“Well, it is our wedding day.” He still holds a smile, but it’s not as big and bright. Perhaps that’s what tips her off.
“Ah, you’re not getting cold feet now, are you?” it’s a tease with a genuine question. She doesn’t give away any anxieties his presence gives, if she has any.
“I couldn’t run away from you even if I tried, Olivia,” he murmurs. Even with his eyes closed to her face, he lifts her hand to his mouth. The warmth of her fingers dusts his lips as he presses a lingering kiss to her knuckles. He keeps her there, an anchor to the sea of nervousness he’s trying to not drown in.
A soft shush falls from her at him speaking her real name, but the secret adoration she has for his voice echoing her letters stills well within her.
“I just never had something so permanent before.” He whispers this against her hand, still clutching it in his like a vice.
Suddenly, she’s tugging his hand. She moves it to her, and touches her lipstick stain against the roughness of his knuckles.
“I’m never had a rising sun like you, Jesse,” she breathes like a pray, “I’m not going to let that go while my hand keeps this ring warm.”
She chases the fluttering nerves away, just with a few words. In a few hours time, he’ll be calling her his wife, but that’s not soon enough. So he leans forward, still with his eyes closed.
“Aye, no messing up my make-up.” Her hand drops his in favor of pressing two fingers to his lips. “I spent way too much time on this lipstick.”
“I have full intentions on messing it up,” he swears with his hand over his heart, before she pushes him away.
“And it will be after we exchange our vows,” she says firmly, “Fuera de aquí, vaquero.”
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