i think is not

A reminder to maybe not throw things at Harry when he’s on stage performing or talking.. :-)

For all you Shaxx fans out there...

(like myself) 

I was going through some old files today and remembered that originally my buff Ikora picture included a little present in the Vanguard gym left by Cayde. 

I was really tired when I made this…. hahaha, I totally forgot about it. 

10. ‘You nearly died’ kiss

Hanzo only remembers pieces of the second half of the mission, like snapshots on an old film reel: sharp, searing pain in his abdomen, firing off a few more arrows before he stumbled and hit the ground, McCree’s shouts, flickers of moving scenery and lights, crackles of conversation in his earpiece. Someone puts him on a flat, lightly-padded surface at some point, and the warmth and golden light that he distantly associates with Mercy’s staff washes over him. Something grips his left hand tight the entire time, and he doesn’t have the strength to shake it off. 

When he finally regains proper consciousness, as the pain of his wound recedes and the healing biotic field takes effect, he recognizes the cool steel ceiling of the transport shuttle. He tries to take a deep breath, but the movement agitates his injury, and he groans. 

“Whoa, easy there,” says McCree’s voice somewhere at his side. He turns his head toward the sound to find McCree sitting at the side of the transport gurney, leaning in close to Hanzo. He has Hanzo’s hand gripped tight between both of his, but lets go so he can brush a piece of hair from Hanzo’s face. “You took a nasty hit there. Don’t go pushin’ yourself.”

“I am fine,” Hanzo protests automatically. He tries to sit up, despite the general feelings of pain and weakness, but he is immediately pushed back down with a hand on his chest.

“No, you’re not. You took a damn bullet right in your gut. You nearly–” McCree cuts himself off, but not soon enough for Hanzo to miss the tremor in his voice. McCree clenches his jaw and looks away for a moment, evidently trying to collect himself. 

Hanzo, stunned by the unexpected emotion, lies back down and makes no further attempts to move. The tense line of McCree’s shoulders relaxes by a fraction, but he is clearly still unhappy. Hanzo turns his hand in McCree’s so he can grip back. 

“Jesse,” he murmurs, “I am fine. This is not the first time I’ve gotten hurt.”

“But you haven’t nearly died before!” McCree snaps suddenly. “I can handle you gettin’ hurt, but watchin’ you get gunned down and not being able to do anything–”

The fight drains out of him all at once, and he slouches over the gurney. After a moment, he leans into Hanzo’s space, pressing his forehead against Hanzo’s.

“You,” he says, voice thick with emotion, “got real hurt out there. And nearly died. I don’t know if you remember that part, but I do. And I don’t–I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you. So just humor me for five minutes and quit tryin’ to act tough and just. Lie there. Okay?” 

It takes Hanzo a moment to find his voice again. “I am sorry–” he starts.

“No, don’t. Don’t be sorry. Shit, you’re the one who got hurt and I’m blubberin’ over you.” McCree laughs once, self-deprecating. Wetness rims his eyes, visible from such a close distance. Hanzo risks agitating his injury to wrap his free arm around McCree’s shoulders, a clumsy attempt at comfort, and they stay that way for a long, quiet moment. 

After a bit, McCree lifts his head. He meets Hanzo’s gaze for a few seconds, then suddenly, he is kissing him. He splays a hand on Hanzo’s neck and jaw, gripping tightly, gently guiding Hanzo to meet the kiss. His mouth on Hanzo’s is firm, barely restrained, perhaps wary of pushing Hanzo too hard but nonetheless desperate. Startled, Hanzo allows the kiss, but only reacts in response to the movements of McCree’s lips, instead letting McCree take what he needs: real, undeniable proof that they are here, alive, still each other’s to have. 

Then, as quickly as it began, it ends. McCree grimaces as he pulls away. “Sorry,” he says. “Probably shouldn’t be jumpin’ you when you’re all banged up. I just … kinda needed that.” 

Hanzo doesn’t reply. He pulls McCree back down with his arm around his shoulders, urging McCree to rest beside him. Eventually, McCree does, half-slouched over the gurney with his head beside Hanzo’s, and they stay that way for the rest of the flight home.