“Why don’t you come in here, babydoll? I brought a guest.”

There’s a bit of a clatter from the small kitchenette around the corner, and then Hanzo walks in. There is a hitch in his step when all three men stare at each other, the tension thick and buzzing in the air before Hanzo lowers his gaze to the ground and comes to a proper halt, thick fingers slowly curling around the hem of his scandalously short skirt while his face flushes hot red within seconds.

He looks so mortified; like they hadn’t negotiated everything beforehand. Like he really had thought Jesse wouldn’t come back with Genji; let Hanzo’s brother see him with his hair up in a pretty bun and his eyes delicately painted to make them look even sharper than usual; wearing a dress that is way too small for him and has his pecs spill out of it obscenely.

“H-Hello,” he breathes towards the floor, awkwardly bringing one arm up to tug at the frilly hem of the maid’s uniform, trying to tug it further up over his meaty chest.

“Damn, McCree,” Genji says after another beat of silence, voice strangled sounding. “Where’d you buy that one? She’s too pretty for you.”

Hanzo chokes and glances up, wide-eyed and mouth hanging open a bit as he stares directly at his younger brother. McCree looks torn next to him, face glistening with sweat and a nervous tick in the corner of his mouth. He looks like he wants to preen just as much as he wants to walk towards Hanzo and assure him that everything is gonna be alright.

When Genji jams his elbow into his side, it seems to kickstart him, though.

“She’s pretty alright,” he drawls, and Hanzo suddenly murmurs: “I should have… I should change. This is not appropriate.”

He tugs at the uniform again, trying in vain to cover himself up; get his tits under control; but the more he tugs the little dress up, the more he uncovers of his thighs, and, finally, the tip of his cock. He’s not wearing any underwear.

“You don’t need to change for my sake, Missus McCree,” Genji leers, the brotherly teasing tone making Hanzo look like he’s about to die on the spot. He shifts his weight, unwittingly guiding their hungry gazes towards his prosthetics; special ones with high heels that pronounce the thick muscles of his thighs; trembling nervous. “I quite like the view…”

“I knew you would,” Jesse preens, and plops down on a chair, waving his fingers in Hanzo’s direction. “Bring us some beer, babydoll. Genji here’s been gone for a long while, he needs some… entertainment.”

.o.

They have Hanzo across the table within the hour. He is scrambling against the plastic and struggling half-heartedly as their fingers slip beneath his little dress and pinch his ass and tits. 

Jesse is at his prosthetics at the second kick – he knows how to get them off with just a few twists. He has an unlit cigar clamped between his teeth, grin sharp and predatory as he works while Hanzo whispers: “N-No.. Please not…”

“Don’t play, babydoll. I know ya like to fuck my friends. Don’t be shy now.”

Hanzo’s eyes are wet, smearing his make-up minimally as he stares at Genji like a rabbit before a snake: mesmerized to the point of stopping his vague struggles as he watches his little brother fumble with his pants. He does not need them with his sleek body armor but it helps the illusion.

When Hanzo hears the hiss of depressurization, his mouth waters immediately. Trained like a dog.

“Never teach your wife how to dress properly, McCree,” Genji laughs, his hand rough as it grabs a fist full of Hanzo’s chest, squeezing, then changing his grip so he can pinch Hanzo’s soft nipple until he cries out and scrabbles, his hands landing squarely on his husband’s chest. Jesse has stepped between Hanzo’s thighs, his large hand holding his hips still.

“Couldn’t teach her if I wanted,” Jesse drawls, fingers rough as he squeezes Hanzo’s thighs, then grabs his skirt and flips it up with an air of negligence that has Hanzo’s nipples grow hard in excitement. “Only wants to learn about cocks, the little slut. Thinks I dunno about her letting them deliverymen in when I’m out working hard.”

Hanzo flushes and squirms, slanting his eyes to the side, unable to look at anybody until he feels the tap of something big and warm and sticky at his cheek: Genji’s cock slapping at him, his brother’s face grinning at him from above; upside down as he waits.

Hanzo shakes his head, pursing his lips, fingers curled in at Jesse’s shirt as he struggles; but without half of his legs it is so much more difficult for him and so much more easier for McCree and Genji to pin him down.

A hand around his cock, gripping harshly has him open up quick enough. Genji has no mercy for him; he fucks in deep and smooth, one hand curled across Hanzo’s throat, feeling how it swells when he forces his dick past any resistance and keeps it warm in the tight clench there, blocking off Hanzo’s air until his vision is swimming and his body spasming, instinctively trying to get out of it.

McCree holds him down, thumbs stroking his hipbones; and when Genji pulls back, Hanzo coughs and gags, lips wet with spit and tears dribbling down his temples and into his hair.

“No… please,” he whispers breathlessly, his cock so hard he gets dizzy. When he looks down, there is a sticky line connecting the tip of his cock to his bellybutton.

They ignore him, and Genji guides his head back to fuck down his throat again while Jesse slaps his big, warm cock against the trembling insides of Hanzo’s thighs. He’s helpless between them. They are not mean but they take what they want regardless of his pathetic begging, and Hanzo shamefully comes even before Jesse presses in.

“Your wife is a slut, McCree,” Genji comments breathlessly and happy.

“Don’t I fuckin’ know it,” Jesse murmurs. He leans forward and kisses Hanzo’s goatee while Hanzo is gurgling around Genji’s cock and jerking through his orgasm.