They slam onto the mat and it is not clear whether Jack’s pained hiss comes from his old back colliding with the ground or Hanzo’s cock pressing in deeper, taking him dry.
He bucks as if nothing has happened anyway, legs coming up and curling around Shimada’s waist at the same time that he digs his nails brutally into his shoulders.
Hanzo snarls, hair long since slipped from the careful tie and haloing his face in a wild tangle.
He is showing his teeth like a rabid dog as he seems to ride the pain caused by Jack clawing at him and uses the energy to grunt fuck deeper into him.
Jack’s belly is on fire, everything below his navel burning as Shimada raws him, and he’s not felt so alive in months. Years, maybe. He’s already forgotten what they’ve gotten into a spat about this time, but both of them look for the smallest apologies to try and rip each other open.
“That’s all you got, Shimada?” he growls, already gravelly voice barely decipherable at this point; speech choppy from gaspin, labored breaths. “You fuck like you’re on sedatives. Didn’t get taught how to do it properly by your Yakuza friends?”
Hanzo snarls again, his eyes big and dark and wild looking. One hand curls around Jack’s throat and slams him back down, squeezing down just enough to make breathing decidedly uncomfortable but not impossible.
“I will make you shut up, old man.”
Cyberrat Writes 