Request for mchanzo, trans!Hanzo and a pregnancy scare
For the third day in a row, Hanzo woke up at the crack of dawn needing to vomit. Thankfully he had always been good at controlling his stomach and could snap on his prosthetic legs quick and then rush to unheave his dinner from the night before. McCree would always be a few seconds behind him, gathering up his hair and pulling it away, holding it in one hand and the other rubbing circles up and down his spine. When the vomiting soothed, he would clean his face as McCree got him his water bottle and an antacid to sooth his belly and then take him back to bed to messaging his lower belly to further settle the peeved organ.
On the third day, McCree finally said something.