Reaper considers combat foreplay. He fights his prospective partners every time someone wants to get frisky. If he wins, which is most of the time, he gets to top. But if he loses, he’s the most enthusiastic sub you can imagine and melts into a gasping mess of breathless moaning. And it seems 76 and McCree got the better of him this time around.
Jack thought that he should probably say something; anything.
Like I thought you were dead. Or I missed you; or I never stopped thinking of you; or What the Hell happened to you?!
Instead what he did was giving the side of Gabriel’s ass a sharp, enthusiastic smack, just so he could see – and feel – the way the juicy cheeks jiggled against his dick.
Gabriel groaned and arched his back, hips slowly, leisurely moving on their own accord; taking all the work out of Jack’s hands and fucking his cock along the slippery crack of his ass on his own.
Every now and then he’d lift up too much; until the swollen head was nudged against his pouting hole – and Jack knew full well that this was deliberate; that Reaper tried catching him off guard and somehow get his dick to spear him open without a hand helping out; that greedy little cunt doing its best to mouth at him – but soon he’d hunch down again and let it slip along the warm, smooth trail until it was emerging at the top once more.
His tail bone was shiny with sweat and pre-cum.
He let Jack do to him whatever he desired; let him knead and slap as his perky ass cheeks, and reach down to fondle his cock and balls where they were swinging heavy and untended underneath him.
When Gabriel got fucked, he was – for lack of a better word – sweet. So accommodating. Maybe even desperate now, after all these years? Desperate to get touched and used like he used to?
“Don’t you want it?”
The voice was low and breathy, and Soldier 76 had trouble to understand the mechanical rasp for a second. Reaper was peeking at him from above his shoulder, and if he didn’t know better, he’d say he was almost shy.
Fuck what he wouldn’t give to see his face.
“Don’t you want to fuck me? I can be… I can be good. I promise.”
Puppy eager.
He pressed his broad shoulders to the bedding and lifted his hips again. Helpfully. Submissive.
When he reached back, Jack didn’t even thick about shying away from the sharp claws tipping his gloves. He simply let Reaper curl his fingers around his cock and squeeze it appreciatively, the tips of his talons carefully scratching through his grey pubes.
“Are you – “ he had to swallow and restrain himself from fucking into the exploring, fumbling grasp of Reaper’s hand. “Are you begging me?”
His hands were still on Gabriel’s hips, though gentler this time; thumbs rubbing slow, soothing circles into the dark skin. When Reaper kept silent – not out of anger or stubbornness, he realized; just in contemplation – he let one hand slide between his legs once again; cupping the vulnerable space behind his balls before giving them a gentle, affectionate squeeze.
Gabriel let out a long, rattling breath, his body becoming hazy and dark for a moment before he materialized himself again.
“Yesss,” he hissed, back arching. “I’m begging. Give me your cock, Jack. Fuck me-”
The words get stuck in his throat, when Jack unceremoniously pushes forward, the head of his dick – still held by Gabriel – pressing against his hole with slowly increasing pressure.
He watches breathlessly how the muscles start moving; stretching apart just for him. Submitting and accepting.
Reaper’s hand falls away the second the head of his dick pops in, and he becomes absolutely still.
When Soldier 76 reaches down below, and places one hand on his lower belly, he can feel it barely fluttering with the sharp, little breaths Reaper is taking.
“SSsshhh, Gabe.” He’s not thinking about the unfamiliarity of the name anymore. Gabriel is hot and tight around him; wet with lube as he swallows him down more and more. “I got you. You’ve wanted cock so bad, didn’t you? I give it to you. There you go… there you go. Open up for me.”
Good boy, he almost wants to say, and accompany it with an affectionate squeeze to the back of Reaper’s neck. Good. Boy.
When he bottoms out, he feels like he can feel Gabriel’s quick, little panting breaths vibrating around his dick. His ass feels good against his hip bones. As plush and muscular as he remembers it.
When he squeezes one of Gabriel’s thick thighs, it is in a subconscious imitation of how they operated in the before.
Reaper takes it in stride. He becomes liquid as soon as Jack starts moving; the rigidity of his body giving way to fluid grace as he easily takes the thrusts and leans back into them, low, wrecked groans spilling from his throat.
It doesn’t occur to Jack one second to get him to shut up.
Stupid, stupid, so so stupid.
Gabriel was making him stupid.
He was keeping his head down and eyes squeezed shut as he fucked him in sharp, little bursts, hips flicking like he were a much younger man. He almost wants to put one leg up on the creaking bunk for better leverage – to properly mount Gabriel and drill into him from a better angle. Fuck right into his belly and warm him up where he so obviously needed.
“More, more… fuck; Give me your cock, Morrison. Maldito-” He’s cursing in Spanish and squeezing down on Jack’s cock, and fuck how could he have ever forgotten what a demanding fuck Gabriel could be? How his muscles could ripple around a cock, milking and greedy for cum…
“Shut up, asshole; I’m giving you just as much as you deserve- I hate you, you damn…”
They’re babbling over each other, hands gripping and bodies straining towards the other as they fuck, and fight.
When Jack blindly grabs for Reaper’s cock, it feels feverish in his hand; like it is too hot to be human; the thick vein on the underside pulsing against his gripping fingers.
He can hear – and god damn feel it around his cock – when Gabriel suddenly holds his breath at the feeling of Jack’s hand on his dick; and maybe he shouldn’t do it; maybe he should keep Reaper on the edge until he’s begging some more; until he’s a come-dumb mess on Jack’s cock – but it is too tempting, fingers moving easily just the way they’d learned to years and years ago; squeezing harsh just beneath the thick head to get Gabriel to howl low and ragged and jerk almost off his cock as he came in pulsing, warm stripes.
They don’t get to catch their breaths, however, as a slow, oddly muffled clapping sound permeates the air, followed by a drawl that Soldier 76 knew only too well.
“Well, well, well… if that wasn’t a nice show, I dunno what is.”
Jack slowly turns his head, dread making his chest seize. He’s acutely aware that he’s still balls deep in Gabriel, and hasn’t even gotten to fucking cum yet.
But there McCree is, standing in the doorway of the barracks and with his gloved hands still put together in front of him. His eyes were shielded by the wide brim of his head, but there was a sharp, toothy grin on his face – an unlit cigar clamped between his teeth.
“McCree, I…”
“Awww now. Don’t let lil’ ol’ me keep you from enjoying the rest of ya labor. I’ll jus’ be outside, right? After all, we’ll have a mighty lot to discuss when ya come out. Ah think we’ll come to a very… satisfying agreement.”
His grin widened, if possible, just a bit more – and then he simply left.
It was stupid that they were doing this here in the middle of one of the Overwatch’s bases; it was stupid that they were doing it in the middle of the day; and it was stupid that neither of them had the inclination to even close to door.
Closing the door would involve one of them having to get up and do the stupid track over to the stupid thing while the other one would be able to lounge there and gloat, and… no. Closing the door was no option.
They weren’t even out of uniform.
Everything was tinged red by Jack’s visor and the sweat was rolling down his cheeks from the exertion and the heaviness of Reaper’s booted feet on his shoulders. Gabriel had placed them there after hectically shoving down his tight pants and from the low growl he’d made, Jack had the nagging suspicion he’d been very close to getting kicked in the head by the combat boots.
Y’ know. Just for good measure.
“Do it,” Gabriel hissed. He’d never been a patient man, after all. Jack would trade in his rifle just to be able to see the expression on his enemy’s face, instead of the sinister visage that was his mask. He looked down in contemplation, watching his fingers twirl around the tight, anticipatory clench of Reaper’s hole yet again. He’d tapped against the very center once or twice, with the gratifying effect of having Gabriel nearly lunge off the bunk in his eagerness to spear himself open.
The sheer force of Reaper’s neediness had hit him like a truck.
“No,” Jack said simply, mostly because he just didn’t want to be too complacent with Gabriel’s bratty demands, but also because the way Gabriel moved his hips against the slick pads of his massaging fingers was hypnotizing.
He had barely slipped them inside yet – merely dipping the tips of his fingers to hear Reaper curse and see the way dark mist swirled around his person when his control seemed to slip – , even though he was dying to get into that ass; into the tight, warm clutch that Jack remembered so well from their youth.
His patience was made so much easier with Reaper’s impatience, though.
Gabriel froze for a second after Jack’s easy denial, apparently having to digest the fact that there had been a ‘no’, before growling and bucking against him, trying to fuck himself onto his lubed up, thick fingers.
The deadly clawed tips of his gloves were ripping at the sheets, easily slicing them into ribbons – until Jack gave one of Gabriel’s thick thighs a sharp slap.
“Stop that. My base, my rules,” he growled, and could’ve sworn he could almost see Gabriel’s fierce scowl through his mask. Gabriel was lying almost awkwardly still, fingers slowly and carefully curling out of the sheets. He was tilting his head minutely, and Jack had the strangest feeling of being appraised. He wondered what was going on in Gabriel’s head. Nonetheless, he wasn’t too old not to use his opponent’s momentary lapse – this somewhat startled, dismayed quiet – to fondle Reaper’s cock and give it a short, tight squeeze that had Gabriel grunt and arch his back.
“In fact – turn around. I want to see something.” His voice was low and rough, tinny from behind his mask, and his heart was pounding something fierce in his throat as he saw Gabriel move without protest. He did hesitate, oh yes, but he didn’t question.
Just moved in a stupidly fluid movement, tendrils of darkness curling enticingly around his body as he managed to get onto all four even though his pants were hobbling him.
Impatience gnawing at him at last, Soldier 76 threw his faceplate to the side, so he’d be able to memorize the sight. Gabriel only grunted once more in surprise when he felt his long, black coat unceremoniously shoved to the side, then stretched and arched his back to display his ass.
He might’ve been surprisingly complacent with Jack’s demands, but nobody would ever be able to say he was shy about what he wanted – or about how he looked.
“Gabriel-” Jack began, then quickly shut up again because Reaper froze to the spot, and Jack could feel for himself how strange the name felt on his tongue after so long. Unwieldy and almost not right. So he fell silent and let his actions speak – hands coming up to grab generous hand fulls of Gabriel’s ass; squeezing and kneading the cheeks with almost painful glee.
God but he’d forgotten this gorgeous ass; those wide, sturdy hips that could take a punishing fuck every day of the week and give back just as good.
“I hate you,” Jack breathed in reverence, one hand fumbling with his zipper and pulling out his cock to let it slap meaty right against Gabriel’s tail bone. He watched with dumb fascination as Reaper immediately lowered his upper body in response, lying his head on his stacked arms. He looked…. ridiculous and cute.
“Yeah?” Jack rasped, slapping his cock against him again, feeling light headed and giddy, and forgetting all about their location and the time of day and how they were practically right in the open even though only one or two other agents resided in this here base. “You like that? Like feeling my cock like this?”
He felt stupid talking like that; he’d never been the best with words, and dirty talk wasn’t exactly his thing – but Gabriel seemed to lap it right up. His back arched down, sturdy hips lifting up towards him in invitation.
The sight of his cock slowly fucking between Reaper’s cheeks was almost too good to be true. Too perfect.
“God damn,” Soldier 76 whispered, hands squeezing the cheeks together around his cock, watching the dark pink head emerge at Gabriel’s tail bone again and again as he slid through the humid crack; glide eased a little by the lube they used earlier.
Gabriel was accommodating enough for a while; a low sound almost like purring coming from him as he rocked back into the touch. Easy and slow – nothing of the earlier bratty impatience to be seen… until, that was, the need seemed to grow once more.
“Okay,” Reaper growled, snapping out of his lethargy, head lifting to look over his shoulder at Jack who was slowly rubbing appraising hands up and down the backs of his thick thighs. “Go on. You had your fun.”
Jack blinked slow and lazy. He felt just right where he was; cock snuggled in that warm, slick space and hands occupied with feeling Reaper up.
“I’m not done having ‘my fun’. Not by a long shot,” he mused, hips twisting and snapping with a little more intent behind it, just to feel Gabriel bodily shudder beneath him, knees sliding farther apart on the bedding as if getting ready to brace himself for the real fucking.
“Jack-” he hissed, sharp and warning – only that it sounded more needy to Jack’s ears. Breathless. Begging.
“Yes, that’s it… Just like that,” he purred, leaning over Reaper’s back and nuzzling against the back of his shoulder. “Ask me nice enough and maybe I’ll give you what you’ve come for… demanding a fuck like a bratty, little boy.”
He could feel his belly clench tight in acute want as Gabriel, after moments of tense silence, and with a body going rigid in denial, suddenly tilted his head forward in submission.
“Oh fuck,” he whispered, feeling his cock ooze out a sticky bead of pre-cum. Oh fuck, indeed.
Of course Jack couldn’t be sure of it. Reaper’s mask never came off; his voice was distorted from behind, whenever he deigned to speak.
He couldn’t be fucking sure but he was all the same – and he could tell nobody.
Nobody would ever know what Jack Morrison – Soldier 76 – knew in his heart: That the killing machine Reaper was his old hated best friend Gabriel Reyes, because Gabriel was dead; killed, when their base collapsed with the two of them in it over a decade ago.
Only that Jack knew those thighs; he knew those wide, almost feminine hips. He knew them well enough to know that they could only belong to one man, because he’d been intimately familiar with Gabriel’s body when they’d still been young and even more stupid than now.
Nobody would ever know what Jack knew because nobody could know that he’d been staring long enough – obsessively enough – to figure it out after all. That he’d stand in the tiny shower of their Gibraltar base, frantically, rudely jerking his cock while he thought about Gabriel’s… Reaper’s… Gabriel’s… thick thighs.
How once he’d jumped over his own shadow and had finally done what he’d been fantasizing about for months; had pinned a vaguely protesting Gabriel to his bunk bed and proceeded to kick his legs together so he could fuck between those muscular thighs. How Gabriel’s muscles had rippled; gone hard as he tensed them, squeezing Jack’s cock painfully between until tears had come to his eyes and he’d still not stopped hate-fucking him; hips slapping against Gabriel’s generous, perky ass.
If Jack focused enough, he could still see how obediently Gabriel kept his head down (and if he thought about it, fucking Gabriel was the only time this asshole could actually do what he was told) and lifted his hips into the punishing thrusts.
He could still say exactly how wide and perfect Gabriel’s hips had been between his gripping hands, because Jack Morrison knew Gabriel’s body like his own; no- better than his own.
Better than anybody.
Enough to know that their enemy had the same powerful legs; the same swaggering walk with his hips fluidly swaying with liquid grace. The same habit to be a pain Soldier 76′s ass and still having him intrigued – positively enthralled.
“God fucking damn it,” he growled, fist slamming against the wet shower wall, as he stared down unsatisfied. He’d come almost without him noticing. He grit his teeth and tugged at his white pubes because it was a little painful and he didn’t have the thick ass that he actually wanted to slap and hurt right now.
Cyberrat Writes 