#hanzio

"You should take this time to prepare for battle." Hanzo said.

"Oh! I totally am, Man," The other man answered, "Music. There's no better place to find yourself. Haven't you ever just given yourself to the rhythm?"

Hanzo frowned, "Not before battle."

"Come on, not even to get pumped up?"

"I do not... pump up."

"Alright, fair enough. You ever change your mind, lemme know. My collection is your collection."

***

"Listen, Man, I know what we we’re doing here. Keeping Military hardware out of the hands of the bad guys. And that's like, good and all. Yeah, I'm down with that," Lucio said.

Hanzo raised an eyebrow, "I sense a but coming."

Lucio grinned, "Hey, I know my ass is pretty cute, but stay on topic here."

Hanzo groaned.

"Listen, all I'm saying is, if you wanna go take your winnings and drown yourself in Sake or whatever, I can recommend a few good bars, but what we really need to do... is put on a concert."

"A... Concert?" Hanzo sighed.

"The people here, man. They GOT power. They just need a little help letting it loose."

"And, of course, your music will do that."

"Well. I mean, not exactly? It's more like... They're burdened, man. They're poor and terrified. Even the gangs are just a response to that. They don't have a future, and none of these corporations or governments seem to care, so they band together on their own. But... what they need is a break. An Oasis, man. Just a way to be themselves."

"And... You want me to give up my paycheck for... a break."

"Nah, I want you to give up your paycheck to give people some hope."

Hanzo grunted, "Fine. But you owe me a drink."

***

Lucio whooped in joy as he ducked backstage. Sweat shown across his shoulders and back, his tanktop clinging close enough to practically show the lines of the muscles underneath. Hanzo ducked in right after him, and crossed his arms, casting an appraising eye on the other man. Well Defined Abs, thick, well developed thighs, the result of all that wall-riding- Hanzo shook his head. Not something to dwell on. Lucio turned to him with a wide, tired grin.

"So, what did you think?"

"I think you look tired. And dehydrated. You should sit. And drink."

"Nah, The Music, Man, the Music! Come on, Hanzo, you gotta admit, it was pretty good, right?"

"You were... correct. It seemed to lift the spirits of the people, as you suggested. I hope they found some solace."

"But how did it make YOU feel?"

"It was... Acceptable."

"Acceptable?" Lucio frowned a bit and leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, "Psh. Damn. Glad to know where I stand."

Hanzo blinked, his eyes wide, "No! No! I did not mean... It is... It was good. It is simply not what I am used to."

"Well. Guess I better drag you to my gigs until you GET used to it."

"I... would not be against that. You are enjoyable company."

Now it was Lucio's turned to blink a bit. A blush spread to his cheeks, and his mouth opened and closed a few times before he found breath to speak again.

"So. Uh. What kind of music ARE you interested in?"

"In another life... I used to play the Shamisen."

"Oh man! The Shamisen's such an awesome instrument. I got a few tracks by the Yoshida brothers on my inspiration playlist."

"Inspiration... playlist?"

"Yeah man, you make new music best when you're listening and learning from other people. More people I listen to, the better my music is. Come on, you wanna listen?"

Hanzo looked at Lucio for a long moment, then nodded.

"I would like that."

***

"Are you certain it is wise, to hold so many concerts?" The two had been sitting together, silently listening to one of Lucio's more mellow playlists when Hanzo, quite suddenly, asked the question. Lucio looked up from Hanzo's bicep with a wrinkled brow and a frown.

"What do you mean by that?" He asked in return, his voice full of trepidation.

"You have enemies." Hanzo said, a slight note of confusion creeping into his voice as he looked down and saw the other man's eyes narrow a bit.

"Enemies??"

"Vishkar. Lumerico. Los Muertos. Your list of enemies grows by the day."

"And I'm proud of every one of them. They're trying to keep the people down, and I'm helping the people fight back. I got enemies 'cuz I'm doing the right thing."

"Is it worth your life?"

"My Life? What's that- Hanzo, you're being kind of weird, dude."

"As long as you are a public figure, saying what you do, these corporations will keep trying to silence you. And soon, they may send thugs to scare you - perhaps assassins to silence you permanently."

Lucio scoffed and crossed his arms, "Hanzo. You ain't talking sense. That's stuff out of a comic book. Even Vishkar has its limits. They ain't gonna just walk into a dance hall and start shooting."

"You say that now, but your pride will be the death of you."

"The death of me? My PRIDE? Hanzo, what the fuck?"

"You haven't seen the things I've seen. You don't know what people molded in darkness will do to keep their power-"

"Oh yeah, I guess that's my bad, growing up poor and learning to rely on my friends instead of being born a damned spoiled rich boy mobster."

"You DARE-"

"Yeah, I dare. Fuck you, Hanzo, I am not stopping because YOU'RE afraid!"

"Then I wash my hands of this."

"...Fine."

***

If there was one thing Lucio knew how to do, it was to lose himself in music when nothing else in the world made sense. With hundreds of bodies packing the warehouse floor, he stood on the raised platform, spinning his holodiscs.

"Give yourself to the Rhythm," He shouted, and the crowd responded. The music almost tangible as it washed over the room in a massive wave of energy and unity. In unity, he could get lost. In unity, he didn't have to think about that man. His arrogance, his wrath, his presumption... His strong arms, his chest, those hard abs he had once accidentally brushed his fingers over, sending a chill down his spine, his intensity, his protectiveness, that hidden warmth you could tease out with just a little-

Lucio shook his head lightly and crossfaded to the next track.

***

In the darkness at the edge of the warehouse, they blended into the crowd. A sandled, Hawaiian shirt wearing young man hid a handgun in cargo shorts. An Omnic readied its wrist cannon for deployment as it closed on the stage. Two big, beefy men who, in another warehouse, might have been in a ring wrestling for the pleasure of a more bloodthirsty crowd, circled around toward the back.

***

"Thank you! Thank you everybody! Power to the People!" As he finished his last track, Lucio raised his arms in triumph, and behind his back, they framed the lithe omnic that sailed through the air, arms outstretched toward Lucio's neck.

"LET THE DRAGON CONSUME YOU!" A voice rang out over the bass beat and the roar of the crowd, and in a flash of white, the omnic tumbled to the floor, and whirred piteously before its headlights winked out.

This seemed to be taken as a symbol, and a variety of thugs and creeps pushed forward out of the crowd. A thin, sallow faced man rushed the stage and drew a knife, but Lucio whipped around, fire in his eyes and his sound cannon in the his hand.

"Push Off," Lucio muttered darkly as the would-be-attacker flew back from the force of the sound wave, knife dropping from his hand to clatter harmlessly on the platform.

***

From his perch on the rafters, Hanzo scanned the crowd. At least 3. 4. 5. 6 more who looked like they were converging on the stage. Had to take them out. But he couldn't harm any of the crowd in the process. Lucio would never forgive him if he did - Lucio would never forgive him anyway - but he had to protect him.

"Great Dragon," a small, whispered prayer slipped unbidden from his lips, "if I have lost this man’s regard, at least let me preserve his life. At least let the world not lose such a gift."

He nocked another arrow. Fragmentation, but he had to aim precisely. Aim, steady, and loose. The two massive hulking brutes fell as one as the arrow split in twain, the remainder flying off to embed in the rafters. Then - there, another one below him. He could see Lucio pump another wave of sound into a man wielding a daibo. The man dropped it and clutched his ears as he crumpled to the floor. Hanzo turned his attention back to the man below him, and leapt off the roof and onto the back of his prey.

"If you wish to live, you will stay down, and you will NOT move," he snarled into the thug's ear.

He looked up again, and... Oh no. No. Great Dragon, NO.

***

Lucio blinked, reflexively scrabbing back against his turntables. This last one, the biggest yet of the group, had managed to slap away his cannon, and now held a handgun aimed straight at his temple.

"Say your prayers, kid," The man said, and cocked the hammer.

As his finger moved toward the trigger, Lucio shut his eyes. Hanzo. Hanzo had been right. Hanzo was here. Hanzo. Did they get Hanzo? Mother of God, please, let Hanzo be alright-

"Hey! Asshole! Who said you could break up the party?"

Lucio opened one eye. The voice hadn't come from Hanzo. Instead, a tall, heavyset lady, hair in a bun, had stepped between him and the gunman.

"Step out the way, lady, or you're next."

"Don't 'You're Next' Me, young man! We were all having a very nice time here, and we didn't ask you to ruin it! Now put down the gun and go home."

The gunman blinked, and perhaps reflexively, dropped his arm, gun now hanging at his side. Still, he hadn't lost all his fire, his face turning read as he started to talk again, "Ok, what the FU-"

Now a teenager with an afro pick in his hair and a hockey jersey hanging off a too-thin frame stepped up to punch the gunman lightly on the shoulder.

"Come on, this ain't cool, man," He said, "This is our neighborhood. We don't need guns and violence messing up our vibe."

A younger lady in a headscarf stepped up on the other side of the gunman, "Seriously, can we LIVE?"

"What is wrong with you PEO-" The gunman started, but before he could continue, the press of people on the stage surrounded him, and little by little, with gentle pushing, they began to carry him back away from the stage, until he was out of sight.

From the other side, a commotion in the crowd. Lucio turned, and there he stood, pushing his way past the last few people, and, despite his usual grace, practically stumbling over to stand in front.

Hanzo stood in front of Lucio, breathing heavily, hands on his kneecaps.

"Uh... You OK dude?" Lucio murmured after a few moments, one hand scratching the back of his neck nervously.

"I am-" Hanzo looked up, "Are you?"

"Yeah. Yeah. I'm fine. I'm... I'm fine."

Hanzo straightened up and looked down at Lucio. He looked back.

After a moment of silence, both spoke up at once, "I'm Sorry!"

"You're Sorry? But I-"

"Listen, Hanzo. Maybe you were right. These guys could have hurt someone tonight. If you weren't here, they definitely would have. I... maybe I should think about what I'm doing. A little."

"No."

"No?"

"Look at what happened tonight, Lucio. You were right. You gave these people hope. They even had the power to stand up to a man with a gun. Because you told them they had that power, they stood up and took that. It would be wrong to deprive others of that chance because of a few common thugs."

"So... You think I should keep going?"

"I think you should. Well. Perhaps with some extra security. And... If you need a head of security, someone who could assemble a small silent squad to turn away intruders and ensure that your concerts are free and open to those in need all the same, I might be amenable to taking... such a position. If you wish."

Lucio grinned and drooped his eyelids a bit, "Oh, I can think of a few positions I'd like you in."

"what." Hanzo blinked like a sleepy owl, expression flat.

"what." Lucio answered, his gaze wide-eyed, somehow both impish and innocent all at once. Still, he broke first, and coughed slightly.

"Uh, anyway," Lucio continued, "Maybe we could discuss the security job over dinner?"

"I'd like that."