I really thought I wouldn’t, I thought I couldn’t, but I did because I’m weak for Hanzo (that and my job hunt is going very well, so I’m more relaxed).
You curled your arms and ankles around your Staff of Asclepius, leaning your forehead against the cool metal, exhaling a shaky breath. Your muscles quivered, weary from being so tense. It’s been a tough day–a tough mission that nearly saw the end of your team which you haven’t seen since you’ve all been separated.
You cast a sidelong glance at Hanzo who laid beside you covered by your jacket, unconscious. The archer was awake until recently, also exhausted from his contributions to the mission as well as emergency treatment from you for a minor concussion caused by the explosion that scattered the team. It was only sheer luck that you were not heavily injured, and that you were not alone. There was only so much you could do by yourself–you’re not even sure if there were still any Talon agents roaming around, waiting to pick you all off one by one.
You shuddered to think of the possibility, especially with the creeping darkness and cold.
Sounds of stirring did not let you dwell for long. Quiet sounds of struggle drew you right to Hanzo’s side, dropping the staff on the ground, forgotten. You immediately looped an arm around his shoulders, supporting his slightly trembling frame.
“Oh geez, don’t get up so fast! Easy, now.”
He did not seem to mind your fussing; he was too engrossed in scrutinizing the long jacket you had used as a makeshift blanket. The air was cold, much colder than this morning, but it did not particularly bother him. He ran warm, always did, but the thoughtfulness you showed him at the expense of your own comfort was more than enough to keep him heated. It was a sweet gesture, kinder than any he’s ever had the pleasure of experiencing in most of his years.
Maybe it was the injuries he has sustained, or maybe it was the sleepy haze that was too slow to leave his mind, but his tongue was loose enough for him to utter: “Your concern…touches me.”
The unexpected admission froze time for a moment before a hot, giddy fire crackled in your gut. It rushed through your fingers, left them shaking, and your face swollen with embarrassment. Thoughts raced at a blinding speed that your mouth could not form.
“No–no, problem. No problem.”
Hanzo hummed shortly in acknowledgement, twisting around to throw the jacket back over your shoulders. Your breath hitched.