❛ You are the opposite of fine. Don’t go parading around like it’s nothing; we work together and if there’s injury, I’m not about to let you brush it off. Do you need a hand back to extraction? I can’t do much for ribs on the field, aside from tell you to lean on me and we’ll get you out and onto the ship. From there we should have pain medication to bide you over until we land back at base. ❜
Words that he knows can be later shot back at him when he inevitably throws himself in harms way and brushes off assistance. Turns out Commander Reyes liked to be awfully hypocritical when it came to injuries. A sigh passes him, as he pushes the thought from his mind, offering his arm to Hanzo.
❛ I’m not going to take no for an answer, so you’re aware. If I have to make it an order as your Commander, I’m not above it. ❜
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Jack lays on his back, hands clasped behind his head, and watches the smoke rise from the incense stick that lays at eye-level. The smoke patterns rise and swirl as they curl away from the burning end and into the darkness around them, carrying a rose smell that lingers in the shadows. Next to the ornate stand rests an arrangement of flowers on one side. On the other, a bird feather.
It’s been 30 minutes since they had gone silent. Their bodies make a strange-shaped L on the cool stone floor, with Hanzo facing forward and Jack laying next to him, his head next to Hanzo’s legs. The incense stick smolders on its last embers, threatening to fall into the ashes inside that lay around it.
A particularly heavy exhale draws Jack’s gaze away from the dying ember and up to Hanzo’s face. His eyes are closed too tightly for meditation, like he’s concentrating on something. He mouths words silently between steady breaths, the syllable patterns foreign enough that Jack can’t pick up any particular words. There’s a tension in his shoulders and his neck that keeps his back rigid.
Another minute passes and Jack wonders if the wisps are similar to the prayers of the man who kneels next to him. Another heavy exhale and the last of the incense stick crumbles to dust.
“I can feel your eyes on me.”
“Don’t mean to stare. Just looks like you’ve got a lot on your mind for something that’s supposed to bring you peace.”
Hanzo opens an eye and looks down at Jack.
Jack shrugs. “I don’t know what’s supposed to happen when you pray.”
“You are not a faithful man, I take.”
“Nah. After the fifth time I was told told I was going to Hell, I figured me and religion weren’t gonna work out.” Jack flexes his hands under his head and makes a dismissive expression. “That bother you?”
Both of Hanzo’s eyes are open now, his gaze averted to the incense stand in front of them. Even when he talks, his posture does not relax. “No. I have seen the news casts. The speeches you make during holidays. The energy you give seems to come from...somewhere else.”
“Yeah, well, God had nothing to do with it. Just lots of practice and shit they paid me to say. I had a pretty face and a way with words, I guess.”
Hanzo a concurring noise in his throat, a soft “mmm” that tells Jack his mind is elsewhere. Jack watches as Hanzo begins gathering the pieces of his altar and setting them in their respective places on the nearby shelves. His hands are gentle, but his jaw is tight.
“That must have been...difficult.”
“Hm?”
“Being told you were going to Hell.”
Jack shrugs. “No skin off my ass. Kinda learned to drown ‘em out with all the other bullshit after a while. I had better things to do than worrying about salvation from a God I didn’t really believe in to begin with.”
Hanzo twirls the feather between his thumb and forefinger. “Just salvation?”
“Yeah, or redemption or forgiveness or whatever the hell else they thought my ‘godless’ soul needed. It was something new every day.” He lets out a humorless laugh and shakes his head. “Can you believe people are still like that?”
“I do not understand it, either. It’s a pity that your sense of faith had to be ruined by fools.”
“Eh, to each his own. Don’t think anything would’ve changed. Would’ve still kept going by what I think is right. Though spite helped, too.” Another short laugh.
A silence comes between them. The smell of roses no longer lingers -- only the scent of the uncomfortable humidity outside that comes through the open window remains.
“...How do you do it?”
“Do what?”
“Keep going. You do not have a God. You have no faith. What is it?”
“Didn’t say I didn’t have faith. I do. Just not the same kind as you.” Jack pauses, pursing his lips as he thinks about what to say next, and decides to sit up and face Hanzo. “People are gonna do what they’re gonna do. Always gonna be some asshole trying to kill someone else. But for every person like that, there’s two others who aren’t. Who don’t, won’t, can’t, whatever. Figure that if I find enough of those people and keep ‘em around long enough, we can change something.”
“...I see.”
Another moment of quiet comes between them. Through the window, the buzz of cicadas rings heavy through the humidity of mid-summer.
“What are you praying for, Shimada?”
Hanzo’s fingers curl into a tight fist as of the sound dies down to a quiet lull.
“I...do not know. I thought I did, many years ago. Now...I’m not so sure. I feel...”
Jack nods his head, encouraging him to continue. His expression betrays nothing but curiosity.
“I feel my prayers have become ghosts. I do not know what I pray for, so they never leave this place. They are never heard.” Hanzo looks at the incense stand on the shelves, his lips parted like he thinks to say something more.
A sudden pressure on his thigh brings Hanzo’s attention to his lap, the hand there a firm, yet affectionate presence. Jack’s thumb rubs a gentle pattern across his skin.
Hanzo curls his lip and shakes his head. “I do not want your pity.”
“No pity from me. If you want me to stop, just say so.”
“No.” Hanzo’s reply is sudden, and he’s thankful Jack’s polite enough not to raise an eyebrow. “I did not mean- I don’t want you to-” He makes a frustrated noise. “Forget it. It is lost on you anyway.”
“Mmm, maybe. But I like it.”
“You like what?”
“Being here. Watching you set up. Watching you pray. Even if I don’t get anything out of it spiritually, it’s a moment to get away from everything else. Seems like a good deal to me.”He pauses, then adds, “It lets me think.”
“You? Thinking? Perhaps there is something to my prayers.” A genuine chuckle escapes from Hanzo.
Jack chuckles in return, faux exasperation coloring his features. “Come on, give me a little credit.”
“Okay, then, what do you think about?”
“What I’ve done, what I need to do. Like I said, I don’t know what you’re supposed to do when you pray.” Jack drags his nails along the length of Hanzo’s thigh, and his mouth betrays a hint of a smile at the way Hanzo inhales to suppress the way it makes his posture falter.
“Sometimes it is praying. Other times, it is meditation. Perhaps I could teach you.”
“Maybe.”
Hanzo closes his eyes and lets himself be kissed. It’s moments like these where he’s thankful Jack is not wrapped up in the same disquiet he is. He kisses him until he’s breathless, then feels his lips down his jaw, his neck, his collarbone-
Hanzo lets out a shaking exhale as Jack ducks his head down and replaces the hand with his lips, kissing along the length of Hanzo’s thigh. His hand tangles through Jack’s hair and he tugs.
He may not understand faith, but when they’re like this, it’s the closest to not thinking he can get.
“You know, I’m not a man of faith, but you just might make me a believer.”
“We shall see about that.”
(*description on list said tights, but I assume OP meant thighs, so that’s what you get. Maybe next time, Hanzo)
The archer is unsure if he should laugh or not, the cruel irony of the phrase,
one he had been waiting to hear his entire life now presenting itself in the form
of a mere joke.
One that certainly isn’t as funny as the other makes it out to be.
Not to Hanzo, anyway.
This here? This is his .. supposed soulmate? Of all people
it’s always been hard to get a read on hanzo; assumptions never worked to his favor, and confronting him head on always ended with the other man storming off for one reason or another. hopefully the other archer wouldn’t run this time.
“oh come on, han, it’s not that bad.” ... right? there was no point in fighting what nature intended, and if it wanted them to be together, clint was more than happy to make the best of it. it was the shimada he was more concerned with. “don’t be so dramatic. we get along, right? plus the whole, y’know. archery thing. that’s a big plus.”
It wasnt like he planned to get shit faced that night. A few drinks was all he needed to get to sleep but somewhere along the way, a few drinks became a whole bottle which became another and another.
Dangerous yes but to anyone else, it would have been definite alcohol poisoning.
“Darlin’. Aint askin ya ‘gain.” He growled, but it was slurred and just the way he swayed to get up and be taller then the archer told every soul on earth that he couldnt back up his threat.
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character in general. i’m comin out of the closet i love shimada hanzo too much for my well beinghow they play them. so!!!! mash is one of the other hanzos that i aspire to be, and i feel like their han is better than mine???? AND THAT’S A GOOD THING IT MEANS I LOVE YOU AND YOU’RE DOING A TERRIFIC JOB also your threads with @decdeye fuck me up good stuff right herethe mun. honestly if it weren’t for mash approaching me first i would have forever stalked them in the shadows, admiring them from afar but no MASH IS A WONDERFUL HUMAN BEING WITH GREAT ARTISTIC TALENT
do i.
rp with them. not yes but that mchanzo wedding is coming soon soooooooowant to rp with them. OFC
what is my overall opinion. listen i love you and your han and you deserve s much better okay
