[ It would take time. Hanzo was sure that when he awoke in the morning he would still feel a touch of awkwardness, that he would not want to admit the reality of this in public, to the other agents, to put to words what he and Genji had shared tonight, but at the same time...
There's no use denying that there's a warm bubble of happiness inside of him that makes him want to reach out and offer more of himself, even if he might not be entirely ready.
Wary and uncertain, he shifts and watches his brother, eyes set, dark with his curiosity. He's trying to hide his nerves, his concern, his uncertainty, and all he can do when Genji speaks is offer a huffing laughing, leaning back a little to put a little space between the two of them. ]
You are not as funny as you think you are.
[ That's always been the case, though, hasn't it? Genji was the one born with a sense of humour; Hanzo's seemed to have died when he was young and struggled to come back to life. Let it rest, he thinks; he has no need for it when his brother's smile is enough to brighten him completely.
He's quickly distracted from thoughts of smiles and laughter as Genji urges him back over to the bed. It doesn't take long before he's laid down and his shoes are elsewhere and for a moment he blinks, baffled, before he swallows back his nerves.
For all that his brother keeps staring... All Hanzo can think is that he must look a mess. A part of him screams to adjust his clothing and his hair, to make himself presentable, even as he pushes the urge down and away to try and focus on what is actually happening instead. Some things are easier to forget than others, after all. ]
I cannot say when it will be. I make you no promises, brother.
[ Hanzo does try not to make promises nor vows that he knows he's incapable of keeping, but with Genji leaning over him like this...
He's lost in the touch, the spark between them, and his chest feels tight. ]
I do not think I can withhold much from you any longer.
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There's no use denying that there's a warm bubble of happiness inside of him that makes him want to reach out and offer more of himself, even if he might not be entirely ready.
Wary and uncertain, he shifts and watches his brother, eyes set, dark with his curiosity. He's trying to hide his nerves, his concern, his uncertainty, and all he can do when Genji speaks is offer a huffing laughing, leaning back a little to put a little space between the two of them. ]
You are not as funny as you think you are.
[ That's always been the case, though, hasn't it? Genji was the one born with a sense of humour; Hanzo's seemed to have died when he was young and struggled to come back to life. Let it rest, he thinks; he has no need for it when his brother's smile is enough to brighten him completely.
He's quickly distracted from thoughts of smiles and laughter as Genji urges him back over to the bed. It doesn't take long before he's laid down and his shoes are elsewhere and for a moment he blinks, baffled, before he swallows back his nerves.
For all that his brother keeps staring... All Hanzo can think is that he must look a mess. A part of him screams to adjust his clothing and his hair, to make himself presentable, even as he pushes the urge down and away to try and focus on what is actually happening instead. Some things are easier to forget than others, after all. ]
I cannot say when it will be. I make you no promises, brother.
[ Hanzo does try not to make promises nor vows that he knows he's incapable of keeping, but with Genji leaning over him like this...
He's lost in the touch, the spark between them, and his chest feels tight. ]
I do not think I can withhold much from you any longer.