Sapientes Gladio's Fanfic Archive

Originally posted on AO3 in 11 Jul 2017, also posted on Tumblr.

Summary: Privacy is a privilege they both value, considering how the other agents always surround them in one way or another-- some have venture guesses as to what’s going on between the two men. But as far as they are concerned, they’re all adults, what happens behind the privacy of their bedrooms is their business.

Well, that’s what Jesse thought until he felt Hanzo’s hand down his pants while they were enjoying movie night with the other agents.

Jesse remains unsure how he managed to wind himself in this situation.



Then again, in his defense and the type of life he has led thus far, he never knows how he winds up in these situations. Always blind-sided and never quite knowing how to properly adjust to the task, er, tasks at hand. At the very least, he remains in control in sharing who he devotes his time with. The ever pensive and quiet, Hanzo Shimada, that’s how the man appears at a glance anyway. They’ve been working alongside each other, usually in some of the same recon missions and having one another’s back out on the battlefield. In truth, Hanzo was rather withdrawn towards Jesse McCree at first, finding him obnoxious and hardly taking matters seriously. Wherein, he realizes he underestimates the Southwestern American from New Mexico. The man has led a life with his fair share of bloodshed on his hands to constantly remain solemn and detached, he is simply trying to live what’s left of his life to the fullest. Preferably behind a good cause with good intentions. With that, Hanzo’s initial distaste for the man continues to grow into camaraderie, one the gunslinger will comment on being “right as rain”. Unbeknownst to the others, there were some underlying tones of intimacy. Well, from the point of view of both men, that’s how it seems.


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(Take note, this was written in 2012; I intend to revamp this and eventually post this to AO3)
“SHORYUKEN!”



A voice echoes throughout the forest, causing birds to fly off in frenzy. The man’s muscular pectorals with long blonde hair in red-tie tied in a loose ponytail, keeping the bangs from his face. The young man’s body glistening in glands of sweat from concentration during the attack. Closing his brown eyes, standing still for a moment, allowing the gentle breeze to rustle his tattering red kata as the cool wind rustles his hair. Ken Masters, a twenty year old Japanese American, has come a long way with his training under Gouken. The young Masters has no idea how long he will be under his sensei’s tutelage, nor does it trouble to him. His thirst for knowledge and desire to learn everything possible, thus making him a promising student. The young adult finds that there is always more to learn with each passing lesson.



Closing his eyes, the Japanese American readies himself for some stretches, popping his muscles back into place. Unguarded, he felt someone jump onto his back, with about the same weight he packages.



“So, how was training?” A young man with a similar appearance to Ken, made an attempt to tackle him. His sun-kissed complexion, short dark brown hair and white gi contrasts with the other Shotokan.



Ken took one of Ryu’s arms, attempting to throw him over his body. However, when executing the action, he didn’t expect his friend to grasp ahold of his other arm, pulling him down as well. Ken landed soundly on his back, creating a dent in the soil as Ryu fell on his rump.



“It was going fine until you showed up.” Ken teases as he remains lying on the ground. “I think I’m getting the hang of the Shoryuken, the form, control and all that,” he rolled onto his side, to see Ryu rubbing his bum to ease the discomfort.

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