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The breeze caresses against his cheek, a soft symphony of birds singing through the crisp morning. Their little voices carry easy, wings fluttering overhead as they rush to meet the cries of their other half. The golden light of the rising sun hilights flakes of left over glittering snow from the night before as they release from the roof just above. They dance and twirl, gently falling in front of the doorway.
Beautiful.
Yet sad.
Something so pure, fated always to decend, only to sink deep into the earth from whence it came. For a long time, he wished he could do the same.
A deep, quiet inhale through the nose. A soft exhale to follow. Another year has come and gone. For better or for worse. Both have been true in their own ways. Arms crossed in front, fingers pinch the soft fabric of a deep red shawl draped over his shoulders, rolling the bit in circles. Slightly frayed edges and a few holes from different sources doesn't demean the importance it holds to him. He's grown rather fond of it. He'll simply sit in his room with it over him. Other times, he will wake with it upon him when it hadn't been there before, obviously set by another entity as he drifted. This was one of those mornings.
Having been so worn from the previous day's mission, it was less drifting than it was almost just passing out. That's one of the only ways he'll sleep. Either exhaustion, or a true feeling of safety. Before his life here, it was always exhaustion. Most days, it still is. Yet, the presence of someone who provided an opportunity to experience otherwise has altered that reality. Someone who heard him. Held him when it mattered.
The sound of steps behind him draws his minds attention. Shuffling up to him in sweatpants and a simple white t-shirt, another man gently wraps his hands around the waist of the other, nestling his forehead upon his shoulder. Light brown hair drapes against black. A light exhale escapes from the darker haired man. He does not seem to mind the physical intrusion of space.
"Good morning." He says.
"Mornin', Han." The other replies, drowsily. He sighs deeply, muffled by the fabric of the red garment beneath his face. "How d'you feel?"
Hanzo hums in curiosity, amber eyes shifting from the slowly brightening horizon down to his partner, breath clouding from his lips in the cold with the backlight of the sun. It takes a moment to make out what was said, hinted at by the breathy oh that leaves his mouth shortly afterwards.
"I am fine, Cassidy." He reassures.
Cassidy lifts his head to his name, half lidded eyes scanning Hanzo's face. Standing up straight and shifting to Hanzo's side, the knuckle of his pointer finger rests under the shorter man's chin, gently tilting upwards to face him. His tired gaze lines the perimeter of a red and irritated gash in Hanzo's lower lip. A little gift left behind from the enemy the day prior. Despite the obvious glare towards him for this, his expression is soft.
"Alright."
He leans down, touching his lips to the corner of his partner's. The glare softens a little. Holding his right hand out, Cassidy lets his other artificial slip back down at his own side. Hanzo silently takes the offered hand, sneaking one arm out from the warmth of the serape to slip palm over palm. Being led back inside the base, warmer air greets them. Seems everyone is either still asleep or at least not out yet. The two men pass through the halls, returning to Hanzos room.
As they reach the door, Hanzo reaches for the dial pad but Cassidy stops him.
"Hold on, b'fore you do that," He pauses, "cover your eyes. I uh.. have a surprise for you."
Hanzo lifts an eyebrow at him, tilting his head ever so slightly. His eyes shift back to the door, lids closing. Cassidy gently places his hand over the other's eyes, which elicits a huff.
"There is no need for-"
"Shh. No peekin', now." Cassidy interrupts.
Standing behind Hanzo, he types in the code and the door slides open. He urges forwards. Once they're inside and the door is heard shutting behind them, Cassidy positions him and removes his hand.
Hanzo doesn't open his eyes instantly. It takes a small nudge to his arm for him to oblige. Upon his bedside table is a cake. It's small, square shaped and topped with fruit, an unlit blue candle poking out of the very middle. The frosting is pink and there's what looks to be some small wrapped chocolates next to it. His room window has been opened, the black out curtains pulled to the side. A golden stream of light peeks just past the windowsill to cut alongside the cake's edge.
Hanzo approaches it with curiosity in his eyes, despite his face looking rather stoic. Cassidy follows a few steps behind.
"D'you like it?" He asks, uncertain. "I... haven't baked much b'fore n' I was goin' for red but it turned out pink."
Hanzo looks the sweet over. Strawberries, blueberries and raspberries piled nicely in the middle. He looks over his shoulder to Cassidy, his expression softening.
Cassidy places his mechanical hand on his hip, scratching at his beard with the other as he looks down.
"And I forgot to butter the damn pans at first, started over n' then it practically melted the cream cause I was movin' too fast to frost it, ain't that a bitch-"
He's cut off by a pull to his shirt, words silenced with a sudden kiss. The initial shock wears off quick as he melts in relief. It only lasts for a few seconds but instantly told him what he needed to hear without any words spoken.
Pulling back, Hanzo releases the shirt. Cassidy gestures to Hanzo's lower lip, worried about its irritation from the action, yet he's ignored as the other walks back to sit on the edge of the bed by the table.
With a soft chuckle, Cassidy heads over, reaching into the pocket of his sweatpants, slipping out a lighter. Flicking it open, the small flame sparks to life. Guarding the candle from the breeze seeping through the window he meets the fire to the tip of the candle. The wick accepts the warmth, a small glow signifying its capture.
The lighter is shut. Knees gently lower to the ground in front of his partner, a hand upon his leg.
"Happy Birthday, Hanzo." He says, softly.
His gleaming metal arm raises a little, gesturing towards the cake.
"Make a wish."
Hanzo looks to the small flame of the candle, taking almost a full minute to really think. Once he settles, he leans towards it, adjusting his hair over one shoulder to keep it out of the way.
A soft inhale.
A soft puff.
A thin stream of smoke curls upwards, comfortable silence ensuing. Cassidy joins Hanzo, sitting beside him on the edge of the bed, wrapping him into an embrace.
For better or for worse.
That's his silent promise.
And that's the unspoken wish.