HELLO. PLEASE “I like the way your hand fits in mine.” FOR ME BOY HANZO.

overdrivels:

(This is such a lewd request.)

Hanzo does not usually enjoy displays of affection, rarely allowing himself to be touched. He needed to be acclimated to it the same way he had to become acclimated to the small endearments you give him. Though, he surprises you sometimes.

Like when he does not pull away when you take a hold of his hand–it’s so very warm and such a comfortable weight especially during the sparse times he puts it on your shoulder or at the small of your back or between your shoulder blade. He tolerates the way you flips his hand around in yours, tolerates the way you study him with little more than a raised eyebrow in question.

“I like the way your hand fits in mine,” you say, smiling wide at him.  

He only regards you with that cool indifference that you’ve become used to, but then his hand slips out of yours.

“Hey–!”

But then, his hand engulfs yours and he brings it up between you both, an intense look in his eyes as he stares you down.

“You mean in mine.”

Hanzo laughs out loud into the back of your hand when you burst into a full-bodied flush.