Chapter Text
When he finds Hanzo in his house, liquor sprawled all over his table, lying asleep on the floor, Kuai isn’t sure what to think. He’d been taught to refrain from using these kinds of substances - to rely on them heavily is a vice that must be avoided, and people who struggled with this were heavily shunned in the Lin Kuei. But right now, his mind is racing with possibilities, with plausible reasons, of what could’ve happened to drive a man like Hanzo to this point.
He shakes him and Hanzo doesn’t respond. Kuai feels a pit forming in his stomach, fearing for a split second that he might be dead, or needed some kind of medical attention. He hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
“Hanzo?” Kuai asks. No response. He shakes him harder, voice more urgent. “Hanzo.”
Hanzo stirs, finally awoken from his stupor, and slowly rises up. Kuai can tell that he’s still a bit inebriated from the way he struggles to do so.
“Hanzo, are you alright? What happened?” Kuai asks, even though it’s pretty obvious what happened, but maybe there’s more to it than it seemed.
Hanzo gazes at him for a moment, eyes blank. Kuai suspects that perhaps Hanzo doesn’t think that any of this is real - that it’s all just some dream. Which is the only reason why he would ever softly admit:
“I wish you’d hate me more.”
Kuai blinks, brows furrowed. Of all the possible reasons, he wasn’t expecting himself to be one of them. “Why… why is that?”
“You’re too nice to me.”
“Too… nice?” Kuai repeats, attempting to understand the other’s feelings.
“It’d be so much easier to just hate you,” he moaned. “I’ve done so many awful things to you… even beyond killing your brother. I’ve abandoned you, insulted you, actively ruined your life… I’ve never been worthy of the forgiveness you’ve given me, and continue to give me, time and time again.”
“Hanzo,” Kuai interrupts, softly. He gently pulls him into his chest and wraps his arms around him. This kind of feeling is foreign to him. It’s not something he’d do for just anyone. “I don’t think that’s-“
“If you were easy to hate,” Hanzo continued, desperate to express his inner conflict, “I wouldn’t feel nearly as guilty as I do. Because the truth is Kuai Liang, you’re wonderful… you’re more than I deserve.” A pause, then a wet sniffle comes from Kuai’s chest and Kuai Liang realizes that Hanzo is crying.
“It feels suffocating,” he goes on. “When I share moments with you, I feel so happy, and only afterwards when I’m reminded of my misdoings do I feel just as guilty as I was overjoyed. I want…”
They both still. Kuai Liang’s cradling him, fingers going through his hair. “Is that why you…?” Kuai trails off, not need to explain what he’s referring to. He murmurs into his hair softly. “What do you want, Hanzo…?”
“I want to do something for you. I want to be your guardian again. I-“ he hesitates. “I want to do as much for you… as you’ve done for me. I want-“ Hanzo pauses, to steady himself.
“I want to be by your side,” he finishes. “And to do so feeling like I deserve to be there… without feeling ashamed.”
“‘Deserve’ is such a silly word,” Kuai says gently. “I wouldn’t have let you near me if I didn’t want you to be…”
It’s a sweet promise of love but Kuai Liang knows Hanzo better than to expect him to find comfort in that. Hanzo has a warrior’s heart and he needs something solid - he needs a vow.
“I have an idea as to how you can make it up to me,” Kuai Liang starts, “But it would require your commitment and dedication.”
Hanzo looks up at him, not understanding. He knows for a fact that Kuai doesn’t need Hanzo’s guardianship, not anymore. So what could Kuai possibly want from him?
“You would have it.” He affirms.
“You even haven’t heard it yet.” Kuai rolls his eyes, then carefully creates enough distance to allow them to gaze at each other's faces. They’re still holding each other, not daring to let go of what feels so right… and tenderly, Kuai leans in enough to touch foreheads. Hanzo doesn’t resist the action, inclining his forehead towards his in response.
“I want you to be with me always.”
In his surprise, Hanzo breaks apart their contact to look clearly at Kuai Liang. He tries to form a coherent response, the words getting stuck in his throat.
“It is a simple matter of yes or no,” Kuai offers, hoping that it would ease Hanzo’s current inner strife. “Can I count on you, Hanzo?”
“Yes,” he breathes. “Yes. I promise.”
Maybe it won’t matter later, Kuai thinks. There’s a chance Hanzo may not even remember this when he sobers up. But for now it’s enough, and Kuai takes a moment to hold him just a little bit longer.