McCree was grunting with every sharp, rattling thrust, shaggy eyebrows drawn together in concentration, eyes slanting over to the side every now and then to watch the picture they made in the big mirror.

He had always liked watching himself fuck; he was hedonistic enough to flex his ass for his own benefit or reach up and tug at his own hair just for the sensation and to stare at the dark hair curling in his sweaty pit.

He knew how he looked and he found nothing wrong in enjoying that himself.

With Hanzo, he had another pretty thing to look at, though; especially now as he was helpless to take every twisting, grinding thrust McCree gave him, hands pathetically holding on to his own cock, face flushed and liquid eyes staring up at Jesse in dumb animal arousal.

He’d given Hanzo quite the rodeo already; fucked him on the fingers of his prosthetic hand, and then with a vibrator – just because he wanted to, and because he loved being able to take Hanzo whenever he wanted; in the communal showers, in the back of the chopper, on the roof of the base…

Hanzo never denied him.

He twists his hips again, watches Hanzo’s Adam’s apple bob, and grins sharply. “Gorgeous slut. You love taking cock, yeah? Bet you were real big hit with your goons back in the day. All of ‘em ridin’ the pretty little heir, right?”

Hanzo’s mouth fall opens, eyes widening. For a second he looks like he can’t understand how Jesse possibly could know… and then he flushes – actually fucking flushes in embarrassment and shyness and presses his hands in front of his face. Childish.

Jesse’s mouth becomes dry and his hips stutter to a stop. He is balls deep in the silky heat and can only stare at the tips of Hanzo’s burning ears.

“Oh, darlin’,” he croons when he finally finds his voice again, cock flexing in the tight confines and making Hanzo shiver beneath him. “Don’t cover your face. I want to see you. God damn little whore. Fuck yeah.”