Here’s a thought: Adopted hybrid boi gets pet on the head for THE FIRST TIME EVER and he just doesn’t know how to react??? That felt so nice and it made him so happy,,, he just starts to cry.
I’m so sorry I keep writing stuff based on your prompts but I loved this idea so much I wrote two little drabbles. Your ideas are fucking magical dude I can’t even
Hanzo
You’re not disappointed when Hanzo seems to shy away from human contact when you brought him home. You were duly warned and even saw it for yourself at the adoption centre. Still, it does make your hand twitch when his fluffy ears swivel around or when he rolls over on a patch of sunlight.
There’s no doubt that Hanzo loves you as much as you love him, which does make up for the lack of affection that he shows you. It’s a cold comfort when you really want to touch him and hug him but that’s okay, you’d rather not push him beyond what he’s okay with.
Some days though…some days are really hard.
Like today. It’s been a shitty day at work and an even shittier month; little things that don’t usually bother you eventually snowball into things that make you want to curl up at home and just wallow in yourself. The day has been a drag, chipping away at your soul until you close the door behind you with an empty look in your eyes and a haunted expression on your face.
Hanzo, bless him, sidles up to you when he sees you come home, wandering close enough for you to feel his heat but not feel his silken skin. You flash him a quick smile and head straight to bed; that’s enough adulting for today, you think. The hybrid follows behind closely, tutting at you and picking up the clothes you litter around the house as he does so. It would make you smile had you the energy.
You muster up a small mutter of thanks and collapse onto the mattress, burying your face into the blanket. Softness and the smell of home permeates your senses, calming you instantly and you sprawl out with a soft moan of contentedness. Seconds turn to minutes, minutes turn into the better part of an hour, and as you doze off you feel the mattress dip beside you.
Raven hair fills your vision – Hanzo. He looks at you worriedly, looking pointedly at the mug of tea on the bedside table. When you decline it in favour of vegging out, he frowns and flops on his side next to you, his tail whipping across your legs in a show of his irritation.
With him this close, your thoughts turn away from your terrible day and to his handsome visage instead. Silky, glossy hair and charming fluffy ears, intelligent black eyes that glint back at you in the dying light of dusk. His facial hair, always impeccably groomed, twitch when he bites at his lip and shuffles closer, his shoulder a hair’s breadth away from your curled hand. He’s looking at your hand, you realise, ears swivelling and flicking as though he’s contemplating something.
It’s an adorable sight, one that breaks your self-discipline.
Unbidden, your hand shifts and lands gently on his head, your thumb stroking his impossibly soft locks. Unbeknownst to you, a serene smile spreads across your lips and holds Hanzo’s attention. His eyes are wide and locked on your face; you’re…you’re petting him!
Should he shift away? Should he stay? Hanzo’s mind turns to static, fuzzing even more when you move your hand to pet him properly, fussing at his ears and tugging his hair out of his ponytail. He lets his eyes flutter shut, leaning into you and purring sonorously into the silence of your bedroom. Normally he doesn’t like being petted, doesn’t like his hair being touched, but this…this is nice.
Something warm fills his chest and his head, making his heart and brain turn to mush the longer your hand cups his head and threads into his hair. It feels good. Really good.
With a lump stuck in his throat, he opens his eyes to see if he dares to inch closer only to find that you’ve dozed off completely, snoring gently into the rumpled blankets. Affection and love and something that he’s not prepared to acknowledge bloom inside him. Yes, he thinks as he rubs his head against your hand, this is nice. Maybe being petted isn’t so bad after all.
Soldier 76
This old hybrid stiffens when you cup his head in your hands. What on earth are you doing?
You laugh and smooth your thumbs over his weathered cheeks, rubbing your forehead against his as you pet him thoroughly. Why, you’re petting him of course, what else?
He swallows past the lump in his throat and clenches his jaw, trying to stop the tears that well up in his eyes at the way you run your fingers through his thinning hair and kiss the hideous scars on his face. You don’t have to be nice to him and pet him; he knows it doesn’t feel as nice as petting a hybrid with fuller hair and smoother skin.
Huffing, you shake your head and play with his white hair affectionately, slicking it back from his forehead. This is fine. You’re petting him, not some other hybrid.
Jack sniffles and looks down, feeling like he can’t look you in the eyes while begging for more pets with his body. He’s so old but he’s acting like a pup all over again, eager to be touched and loved. But he really does want more pets; he just can’t say it without wanting to crawl into a hole.
Luckily for him, you’re a mindreader. Or a Jack-reader, anyway. You hug him to your chest and lean back against the sofa, caressing the back of his head and closing a hand over the back of his neck to stop him from leaving. The hybrid is stiff for a heartbeat but melts just as quickly, winding his strong arms around you and nuzzling into your neck.
Published
Toad's Cave 