1st Ko-Fi Fic Prompt :)

Here’s the first fic in my list commissioned by @mujaween following this post of Genji hacking McCree’s phone to look at lewd pictures and wanting all the dirty details… got a bit carried away and it got ~2,400 words instead :’ )

“Ugh Genji… come on, you’re a good lad an’ all but I can’t…” Jesse trails off, eyes tracking the movement of the bottle Genji is slowly swaying in front of him, tantalizing as the dark liquid sloshes inside.

Genji hums, the sound a bit robotic behind his mask, and kneels down next to Jesse in a fluid, graceful motion.

“What’s the matter? Don’t like it anymore?”

Jesse’s dark eyes are pinned on the bottle. He wants it badly, Genji can tell, but he’s not yet reaching for it, cheeks going ruddy red beneath his scruffy beard as he shrugs his shoulders and tugs the brim of his hat down to shield his eyes from Genji’s unwavering stare.

“Yourbrother’sgon’beangrywithme’sall,” he slurs quick and under his breath, then adds a bit more intelligible: “Can’t be comin’ home to him stinkin’ of booze all the time.”

Genji shifts minimally, his cock feeling warm and heavy beneath the fabric of his codpiece.

“It’s just once a week,” he wheedles, “Can’t believe the big Jesse McCree is cowed by some little housewife antics.”

Jesse flinches and chokes on his spit, quickly sitting up straight from his slump on the roof of the base and eying Genji nervously… or embarrassed? Genji cocks his head, watching the color of Jesse’s face darken even more before the other suddenly thrusts his arm out and practically snatches the booze out of Genji’s hands.

“Ye’re right. ‘course you are. Just once a week – a man is allowed to enjoy himself, right?”

Genji nods sagely. “Of course he is.”

“Yeah. Yes. ‘Course he is.”

Genji slips closer, settling down next to Jesse, hands folded casually across the swell of his cock beneath the fabric, faceplate in place to shield how hot his cheeks had gotten and how glassy he knew his eyes are already.

Jesse unscrews the booze easy enough and knocks shoulders with Genji amicably, then takes a little swig.

.o.

Jesse is no alcoholic by any stretch of the imagination, but he’s cocky and trusting enough that he lets himself easily get goaded into drinking a bit more than he should.

When he starts rummaging in his serape to fish a cigar out of its depths, it is easy for Genji to nab his phone for a second, place the little chip on the back and push it back into the back pocket of Jesse’s jeans.

He then tucks out his own phone, heart beating fast with adrenalin as he selects the app he needs, watching as a new picture folder is being downloaded.

His mouth goes dry when he finally opens it up and he is presented with Jesse’s private pictures. The latest one just greets him in a tiny preview yet still makes him bite his tongue to keep quiet as he quickly taps on it.

Next to him, Jesse finally has produced the cigar and carefully clips the end, humming a little tune back in his throat. He has no idea what his silent companion is up to as the unreadable mask is directed at the screen of Genji’s phone.

A screen where he can see what he knows is McCree’s dick – fat and ruddy, with his hairy belly visible in the bottom of the frame while the rest is occupied by his very own brother, gazing up with an out-of-it expression as he suckles at the cock.

Genji shifts, free hand dropping between his thighs, grabbing at his cock as he stares mesmerized at the POV shot; how Hanzo’s perfectly groomed beard is already shiny with spit. How there are more tacky spots along his sharp cheekbones where McCree must have rubbed the tip of his cock against – or maybe even slapped Hanzo with his dick, and isn’t that a nice thought? His brother on his knees, begging for cock and getting slapped with a big ruddy dick for his trouble?

Hanzo is almost cross-eyed, staring up into the camera, his dark eyes bottomless and glassy. Needy. There is a bulge in the left side of his cheek where Jesse has pushed his dick into, and Genji wants that so badly he almost feels nauseous.

When he sees the date of the picture, he wants to sob. Last night. Last night Jesse got to fuck his brother; had him on his dick like a cheap whore and made pictures of him sucking his dick – and Genji… Genji has been in his room, grunt fucking his fist against the mattress and imagining it was Hanzo; sloppy and used and just as slutty as he always imagines Hanzo will be.

“Had a good night yesterday? You were gone pretty quick.” He can’t stop staring at the stretch of Hanzo’s lips around a cock, or the metal of McCree’s arm, fingers curled unforgivingly in Hanzo’s hair – ready to pull him down on the dick and use him as a fleshlight.

Jesse grunts noncommittally, then seems to think a bit more on it, eyes squinting into the dark sky as he recollects what he’s been up to – then the corner of his mouth ticks up.

“Yeah. Somethin’ like that. Was good.”

Genji can see that. His eyes are glued to the screen, thumb unwilling to swipe to the next picture. The longer he watches, the more details he can see; like the fact that Hanzo is wearing make-up; subtle but there, the sharp, dark line around his eyes a bit muddied by unshed tears.

God, Genji wants that. Wants to fuck his brother so good he cries.

“Yes? Did you have fun?”

Jesse chuckles, rolling the lit cigar into the corner of his mouth and leaning back against the wall, cocky and satisfied.

“Yep. Had some good wholesome fun with… uh…” He starts to realize with whom he is talking about whom and clears his throat awkwardly, finishing his sentence a bit lame with: “Yeah. Had fun.”

Genji is not deterred. His belly is on fire and his cock is spitting pre-cum against the tight fabric of his codpiece.

“Did my brother save a horse, cowboy?” His voice falls short miles of playful. It is rough and low. It becomes difficult to speak with the mask on, his breath hot and thick until he lifts his mildly shaking hand and unlatches it.

Jesse is quiet for a bit, taking a swig of the booze. He eyes Genji’s face which has to be as flushed as he feels, his hand curled around his phone so tightly that the case creaks.

“Shit,” Jesse murmurs, his cheeks taking on another deep, warm glow. He scratches at the back of his head, not looking at Genji who directs his gaze back down, swipes to the next picture and whimpers very quietly in the back of his throat.

“Yeah… s… s’pose so,” Jesse mutters next to him as Genji stares at his brother in a black dress that almost looks like a maid uniform but does not quite. There are pink slips of fabric everywhere; a silky band around his waist, and a laceline of it along the hem of the skirt. His hair is bound with a pink ribbon as well, though not all of it. It looks more artful like this and less like a necessity, and as he stares at it, something connects in his mind and he swipes back to the first picture and – there it is. The pink little slip of silk just barely visible in the black mess of Hanzo’s hair.

Genji lifts his free hand unthinkingly, biting at it to keep quiet; keep himself from slipping his dick out in front of McCree and fucking it, thinking of his big, serious brother wearing a little dress for his man just yesterday. His tits look fantastic in it, too; his torso is too broad, making the fabric strain, and giving his pecs a plush, full look – like they are perfectly capable to being fucked good.

He thinks back on his little housewife comment earlier and McCree’s weird reaction to it. He closes his eyes and breathes in deeply through his nose.

Jesse is still not looking at him. He seems embarrassed and Genji can’t even fathom it when just yesterday he’s had Hanzo in a dress sucking his dick.

“You definitely pulled the stick out of his ass,” Genji murmurs. Jesse is startled into a laugh, his voice sounding a bit hysterical when he answers: “Don’t know ‘bout that one. If anything I replaced it with somethin’ else.”

Then he takes another quick swig, his face looking pinched – like he is chastising himself for speaking like that, though Genji does not know whether it is because he is talking like that about his lover or because he is talking like that in front of his lover’s brother.

Or maybe both.

Genji pushes on to the next picture and becomes very quiet, staring at it as Jesse mutters under his breath, holding the bottle of booze to his chest like a shield.

Genji feels like crying as he stares at a picture of his brother’s ass. Hanzo seems to be kneeling on a bed or something, bracing himself on his shoulders so his hands are free to reach down and spread his cheeks apart for Jesse’s – Genji’s – viewing pleasure. There is black fabric bunched around his waist, probably of the same damn dress, skirt flipped up to let his lover fuck him and cream his hole; his hole that is flushed an irritated red from usage, loose and wet, obviously freshly dicked as it is still gaping buttery soft, with a thick drip of cum slowly oozing out of it.

Jesse is shifting restlessly next to him; has been for a while now, in fact – both of them quiet for a long time as Genji has been absorbed in the picture of his brother’s fucked-out cunt, and Jesse thinking… whatever.

When Genji glances over, he can see the bulge of his dick. Jesse’s always said that booze made him horny, and thinking of his brother behaving like a cockslut obviously only makes matters worse.

Genji swallows but his throat is still dry.

“How is it?” he asks. Jesse eyes him out of the corner of his eye, then grunts. “How’s what.”

Genji licks his lips, stares down at the screen of his phone, eyes tracking the red gape of Hanzo’s sloppy hole.

“How is it to fuck my brother.”

Jesse goes very still next to him, and for a moment Genji thinks this is it – Jesse will stand and walk away and never talk to him again. He won’t go telling Hanzo, that’s not who Jesse is, but he will definitely not stand for Hanzo’s brother to-

Jesse pushes his hat far down above his eyes until Genji can only see the ruddy red of his cheeks – so very similar to the color of his fat, hard dick when it slips into his brother’s used holes – and the line of his lips clamped tightly around his cigar.

He’s not gone yet, and Genji… Genji has to know. He’s going crazy having these pictures at his disposal; knowing that Hanzo willingly let himself get photographed like this-

“Jesse,” he rasps, leaning forward a bit, hand between his thighs, slipping the codpiece to the side to let his dick at the cool night air, wet with pre-cum and flexing with the need to come. “How is it to fuck my brother. Is he good on your cock? Does he feel nice?”

“Fuck yeah he does,” Jesse grunts, voice wrecked; so deep Genji can barely understand what he’s saying. “Can take me any time of the fucking week; anywhere I want. He’s so hungry for it; can’t fucking keep up with him most o’ the time.”

Jesse pinches the cigar between two fingers to keep it from falling to the floor, his mouth open and wet as he pants, hand on his dick similar to Genji though he has not yet pulled it out.

He sounds haunted; like he has to confide; like he’s been dying to for an eternity and the knowledge of how lewd Hanzo actually is is keeping him up at night.

Genji is jerking off openly now, staring at Jesse. He leans forward, pushes his hat back. He needs to see his eyes; how he looks like a man on a chase. Jesse flinches back a bit, licks his lips, glances at Genji’s face, then at his dick, out and wet and flushed an angry red.

“Shit,” he whispers, then a bit louder once more: “Shit.”

He closes his eyes, swallows, then opens them once again. Stares Genji straight in the eyes.

“He feels like he’s gonna keep your dick for good when you fuck him. He doesn’t wanna let you move but begs for it like a cat in heat. He’ll scratch you up for pullin’ out, an’ for pushin’ in. Pretends like he doesn’t want dick like he needs it to live and gets crazy for it a second later.”

He’s got his cock out now as well, both of them panting, staring at each other jerking off. Genji imagines it; Hanzo acting like a man possessed, howling like a goddamn cat for dick, to get fucked, but not wanting it to move as well.

Jesse curses under his breath, lets his head fall back, hips flexing into his fist. Genji closes his eyes and bites his lips; tries to imagine his brother’s hole on his cock; silky and wet and so very well fucked.

“He’s trained like a seasoned whore,” Jesse suddenly continues, hoarse. Genji bites his tongue. “Can take anything you give ‘im. Loves to be slapped around a bit. Wants to be fucked like a slut and acts like one, too. I-”

Jesse looks almost pained, his fist looking like he’s strangling his dick. “I wanna get him to a gas station sometime. Have him dolled up and ready for use. Watch him get dicked by the truckers. He’d love it, too.”

Genji has trouble swallowing, his tongue hanging out like a dog, cock aching.

“I want him,” he rasps, returning Jesse’s startled gaze, the sound of them jerking off slick and lewd in the cool air. “I want to fuck my big brother, Jesse.”

They stare at each other as they come, cheeks dark red and breaths puffing out, but an understanding between them that makes Genji feel nauseatingly hopeful.

(You can tip me here if you like 🙂 )

Mister Shimada thinks he’s pretty clever, Jesse supposes. Or, just as likely: he thinks McCree is an idiot.

He grins wryly, big hands curling around Shimada’s trim hips, holding on for the ride as the man slowly lifts himself up onto his knees. His cock emerges in a gratifying slow slide; wet and girthy, the swollen rim dragging along; clinging, suckling, clenching.

He’s not the first Mr. Shimada has approached – he has no illusions there. The whole thing is too practiced: the room carefully arranged and picked out to the prissy man’s exact standards. Jesse, who has no qualms about rickety beds with squeaking hinges (in fact, is quite partial to them, as they so boost his ego), doesn’t care either way.

He’s got his dick in a warm, pretty thing, and is lounging in a hotel room far above his pay grade to do so.

That Mr. Shimada is ignoring him is… annoying, but no deal breaker.

Mr. Shimada thinks Jesse is an idiot, after all, and the fact amuses Jesse to no end. Enough so to let the guy play.

In reality, Jesse knows exactly what’s up: has figured it out the moment the little whore had started groping his belly, hairy and with a good layer of fat, face twisted in what should look like disgust but actually seemed more desperately hungry. Like he hated himself for how much he loved how imperfect McCree is.

A suspicion that was only confirmed by how Mr. Shimada preened in front of the mirror; back ramrod straight, spine a sensual, sweat slick curve in front of Jesse’s admiring eyes. He’d brace himself with both hands just above Jesse’s knees, and make sure his biceps bracketed the generous swell of his tits.

He’d watch his own cock bounce in the reflection; pink and not entirely hard, but still oh-so-pretty as he fucked himself on Jesse’s cock.

Next to Shimada’s noble beauty, Jesse is a mutt; hairy and soft around the middle; chest not as firm as it used to be, beard too unkempt.

He doesn’t much care, though, if it gets him Shimada’s tight body after long tedious meetings. Doesn’t care at all, in fact, if he doesn’t have to do anything; just lie there and let Shimada cuddle with his dick while he puffs on a cigar and enjoys life.

He’d not the idiot Shimada thinks him to be, but he’ll definitely not let him know.

Usually Hanzo comes prepared for his hunts. He’ll have a nice room picked out, and a mirror placed at the exact spot that he’ll need it.

He’ll have towels ready and bottles of water close at hand.

He’ll have a camera set up to enjoy the footage later.

This time had been too sudden; too spontaneous for any of it. He’d not expected the need to jump him and bite into him. He’d not expected his business partner to be so perfect.

He figures what did him in was the heavy gut hanging over the belt. The ostentatious rings biting into the flesh of short, thick fingers. The soft cheeks trembling with every motion of the head.

All contributing to him luring his victim into a seedy hotel with bad lighting and smelly sheets.

Just him and a crappy cracked mirror that’s angled badly and shows too little of the action.

He has to roll his eyes until they hurt in their sockets, but he needs to see it.

Above him, Miller is breathing loud and labored. Every now and then he tries to push himself up onto his elbows; wants to see the handsome man kneeling between his thick legs – yet every time he halts half-way through and sinks back down with a low groan.

Hanzo has to use a hand to push Miller’s gut out of the way, and to get at his cock, but his price is all the better for it: dick short and fat; bumpy in places with irregular veins. A brick red tip that looks similar to the shade his cheeks have reached after Hanzo divested himself of his clothes.

It’s an ugly cock, but it couldn’t be more gorgeous for Hanzo.

He watches himself in the mirror; well-kempt and in absolute top-shape; suckling the man’s inferior dick like a candy treat.

He fantasizes about riding him; grunt fucking himself on the girth of Miller’s cock; the large, soft belly pressing into him, making everything awkward.

Maybe he’d allow him to fuck him from behind; rest his gut on the small of Hanzo’s back. Have his sweaty, thick fingers grope his hips and tight belly and firm pecs.

He wants it – wants it bad – but he wouldn’t be able to watch himself, too. The frustration makes tears well up in his eyes. He feels like Miller would be perfect; command him around. Use him like a fuck puppet – like Hanzo wasn’t leagues above him.

Hanzo would go along with it, too. Revel in it. If only he could see himself… body greedy for an inferior, ugly cock; twisting unnaturally to make it easier on him to dick him down…

He almost sobs in his frustration, chest burning, hand cruel on his own erection – lamenting how he is a slave to his whorish needs.

Here you go ❤ the just completed baby live-write 😀 some young!Hanzo/castle guards daddy kink

Hanzo gets weepy when they don’t stuff him with cock. He loves feeling the smooth texture weighing down his tongue and the spread of his rim burning from too little lube to smooth the way.

Still, they liked to tease him every now and then and deny him just to hear him whine for their cocks, dark eyes brimming with tears and cheeks filling with hectic red spots – as if he was actually fearing them denying what he needed most. As if they had any choice but to obey the kid of the boss when he was vying for a fuck, naked beneath loose clothes and pulling their hands into the generous folds to feel him up whenever none of the other servants were around to witness.

Hanzo is not especially good at sucking cock but he is enthusiastic about it – drooling liberally as they fuck across his soft palate, trying to nudge their way into the soft, jerking grip of his throat and teach him how to let them deep dick him. He is eager but still chokes too easily, spit dribbling down his chin, body shaking with suppressed coughs.

He always looks at them, though – they never had to teach him that sweet little trick; his eyes always wide and curled up, trying to watch their faces and anticipate how good he was being for them.

Sometimes – often times – this was not enough, however, and he would let the cock he’s suckling on pop out of the warm, silky grip of his lips to snuggle his cheek against the shaft, the dripping tip smearing into the ink black hair at his temple.

Just as he was doing now; nose shyly rubbing into the wiry hair at the base of the guard’s cock, barely nudged against the hard belly by the slow, leisurely thrusts from behind. He seems unperturbed. In his own little world filled with kind dicks that filled him up and warmed his belly with creamy, thick loads.

“Are you happy, daddy?”

If he is ever put-upon by their resulting laughter, he has never shown it outright – rather the opposite.

“Shit, he’s clenching down,” the guard behind him grunts, stilling the already slow thrusts to slide the pads of two fingers slowly along the stretched, pouty rim. “His little cunt is gripping down like he doesn’t want to let my dick go any time soon.”

The man in front of him is undeterred by the snickering around them; large hand coming to lie atop the young heir’s head, tilting him back so he can nudge the wet tip of his cock against the receptive, open mouth; Hanzo’s lips are already fucked soft and pliant; plump from sucking the third dick in a row.

“I would be happier if you didn’t stop sucking my cock, baby boy,” he says, voice not unkind, dipping into the soft, dismayed ‘o’ when Hanzo’s eyebrows pull together in a frown, eyes widening.

“Hey… he’s your daddy now? I thought I was daddy…”

Hanzo turns his head, releasing the cock trying to nudge deeper with a wet little sound, smearing the sticky tip against his cheek in the process. He looks torn as he gazes up at another of the guards. Confused like he couldn’t understand what the problem was.

“You are…”

He lifts his hand, curling it around the half-hard cock because it’s there and it’s close and he couldn’t help but want to get his hands on every dick in his vicinity if he was like this. It’s still tacky from fucking his ass earlier, the flesh spongy in his lovingly cupping palm – but it starts filling obediently enough when he squeezes it and lets it slide silky and slow through his fingers, eyes fixed on it like he wasn’t getting dicked from behind; like there wasn’t a second one nudging against the corner of his mouth and the guard in front of him huffing impatiently.

“I am?” the third man hums, sidling closer.

“Daddy…” Hanzo is mindless, whining for it without really listening to what is being said – just instinctually answering in a way he feels is correct and will assure him the most cocks. When he leans over, mouth falling open; already hungry for the sticky cock in his grip, the man in front of him fists a hand in his hair and jerks him back again, face flushing angry red.

“Ey! None of that, now. You already got a cock to service. Be a good boy, Hanzo.”

It is so easy to guide him; have his scattered attention diverted from one cock to the other, his usually sharp eyes hazy and drunk looking as he sticks his tongue out obediently to welcome the spit slick cock back inside, mumbling an indistinct, “Yes daddy…” as he does so.

There’s no hint of his usual awkwardness; his almost painful need to be the best and sharpest and seem perfect all around. On his knees and with his rim puffy from thick cocks spreading it, creamy cum getting fucked out of him in a frothing mess, he seems as content as he never was when kneeling quietly next to his father attending business meetings.

He groans through his nose when he feels the cock in his ass flexing, blunt tip pressing into the spongy, giving walls lovingly hugging it, then scrambles to stick his arm between his legs, fingers almost frantically covering the swollen gape of his rim, working to push the sticky strings of cum bubbling out and down his perineum back inside while the guard behind him slowly stands with an exhausted grunt and makes way for another to take his place.

While he has to wait, he plugs himself up with shaking fingers.

His nose is running and his belly feels tight. He looks pale except for the redness rimming his eyes and the reddish bruise his mouth had become.

“What’s up?” the guard in front of him asks, hand gently carding through sweaty hair. Hanzo mumbles, trying to talk while lapping at the cock idly rubbing across the plush cushion of his tongue.

The guard huffs and pulls back just enough to let him properly speak.

“Hurts, daddy.”

“Your cunt? Sure it does…”

“Yeah,” another guard jeers, pulling the door shut behind him. He is fresh-faced and cocky still; the eagerness not yet fucked out of him by the insatiable heir of the Shimada Clan. “Burns, doesn’t it? Daddy can make it all better.”

His cock is out within seconds, black tie thrown over his shoulder so it wouldn’t get dirty as he kneels down and spreads Hanzo’s ass with both hands to watch the soft gape of his hole around the shaking fingers stuffing him.

Hanzo’s eyes roll up when his fingers are forced out by a new cock pushing insistently against him, ears burning and pounding with his heart beat when he hears them speak about him:

“I can just slide in, right? There’s so much cum here…”

“Think so. He’d make a ruckus if it hurts.”

“Yeah, he’s lubed up enough. Think he’s got three or four loads in him now.”

“I kinda just wanna see him getting raw dicked. Bet he starts jumping like a rabbit when he gets fucked by a dry cock.”

“How ‘bout we ask him?”

Hanzo’s mouth is hanging open to better breathe, tongue out and trying to get a lick at the cock just inches away from his nose. He looks confused when he gets gently slapped with two fingers, gazing up at the serious face looming above.

“You okay? Wanna get fucked by a dry cock?”

He blinks slowly; then again; then a third time, his knees inching farther apart, sleek, young cock surging up between his thighs, slapping against his tight belly until a thin string of pre-cum connects the tip to just beneath his belly button where it dabbed his skin.

“Daddy,” he whines, low and drawn out. Pleading. It’s not an answer at all, but they take it as one anyway, laughing and petting him with an affectionate negligence only reserved to favorite pets.

Honestly, he doesn’t register the first couple of inches, eyes focused on the cock in front of him; how it is getting jerked just inches from his face, a harsh hand in his hair keeping him from actually reaching and sucking the fat tip into his greedy mouth.

When the sensation registers; an uncomfortable burn as he gets spread open wide once more, he has barely time to whine a pathetic “Daddy…” before his attention is drawn away once again by warm cum splashing across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose; the low, guttural grunt of the man above him ringing in his ears and making his belly feel warm and fuzzy.

“Fucking stellar. Good boy. Keeping still for daddy. That’s it, goddamn.”

His hand is still around a sticky cock he’s neglected completely, the guard happy with his slim, callused fingers forming a tight tunnel for him to fuck into, but now Hanzo is getting agitated; his face warm and dripping with cum, his ass warmed by a cock fucking into him that feels bigger than any of the others yet; so large he has to suck his belly in and try to curve his back up, somehow simultaneously moving away from the deep dicking but also putting himself into a better position to allow the blunt head to nudge against his prostate.

His grip tightens around the cock in his hand, body shaking and exhausted. His intestines feel bloated with the cum already deposited inside him. He wonders, vaguely, whether his stomach is bulging with it; whether his daddies have filled him up enough to leave him with a little something to remember them by.

Maybe enough to slide his hand across his belly every now and then and remind himself how thoroughly they had fucked him.

Hanzo barely feels the cock in his grip pulse; the sticky cum coating his fingers and dripping down his arm before he is allowed to cower on all fours and let his head hang low, a low, continuous sound fucked out of him by the cock reaming his ass.

“Daddy… fuck… fuck me, please… oh god…”

“I am,” the man behind him grunts; he sounds dogged. Determined. His hands are gripping Hanzo’s hips tight enough to leave large, purplish bruises. The sharp edge of his fly is biting into the tender skin of Hanzo’s ass every now and then, making him almost squeak with the pain of it, toes curling hard enough to make his calves cramp.

“Daddy’s gonna fuck you until you can’t sit for a week straight,” the guard promises him. He sounds indistinct – as if he were talking with his teeth gnashed together like a beast. Hanzo senses more than really feels him put one foot up next to his knee, getting better leverage to hump into him and make him feel the girth of his cock, finally slicked enough with the cum frothing out at the sides, getting pressed out from his cock with embarrassing squelching sounds. “Gonna fuck you good. Get you bred nice and deep with daddy cum. You want that, don’t you? Fucking slut begging everybody to be your goddamn daddy. Yeah – yeah, hold your ass open for me. That’s the ticket. That’s the fuckin-”

He chokes on his own spit, eyes nearly bulging as he comes, staring down to where Hanzo is gripping his cheeks hard, nails biting into the tender flesh as his cheek rubs against the floor. He’s spreading himself wide, making the burn a little more acute – a little more delicious as he listens to the filth pouring down on him, mouth open wide and just about visible beneath the wild tangle of his hair, gasping for breath, smears of cum still on his chin and along his jaw.

He looks like an absolute mess.

When the man behind him pulls out, slowly, huffing through his nose and eyebrows drawn together in intense focus, a thick dribble of cum follows behind before Hanzo can tense up enough to stop the flood.

His hole looks ruined – red and swollen; well-fucked and soft after hours of relentless reaming.

Nobody had thought of giving the Shimada heir a hand but there’s still a mess between his shaky knees.

Roadhog in and of himself made an impressive figure.

Seeing him sitting naked, knees spread and huge gut jutting out unashamedly with his cock a ruddy red color beneath, smearing sticky fluid against the underside of his stomach was… downright intimidating.

Jesse wouldn’t have come close to him, if he was honest. He could almost feel his balls trying to crawl up into his belly out of submission to the superior dick, and from the look of Rutledge – arms up on the backrest of the couch, showing off the thick hair in his pits, chin a little tipped up until his expressionless mask looked smug – he knew it.

He looked relaxed and in charge; like a decadent, barbaric king; especially with how Hanzo was curled into his side, a flush across the back of his nose, one hand right above the bulging belly to feel it slowly rise and fall with Roadhog’s breathing.

“Please?” He could be so nice if he wanted to. Very polite and demure, face nuzzling against Rutledge’s chest, mouthing wet and warm at the nipple he found there. (Trying to ingratiate himself, the little slut.) “Please can I have it?”

He never sounded like that when it was just the two of them. When they were alone he loved cock just as much – but he never shyly asked for it. He pushed Jesse down and took it where and how he liked, satiating himself until McCree was red faced and huffing like an engine going uphill.

Jesse liked seeing him vie for Mako’s cock like a two dollar whore for a change.

Mako simply grunted. It sounded ominous behind his mask. He shifted one meaty arm and reached beneath his firm, bulging stomach, curling thick fingers around his cock. Jesse could just sit and stare. It looked like a fucking weapon in the huge fist as he jacked himself slowly.

“Get down,” Roadhog rumbled. It sounded just this side of impatient – just enough to make Hanzo scramble to get down onto the ground, eager, desperate, mouth open and wet; probably seconds from drooling at the thought of fucking himself down on the wide head of the sturdy dick.

Before he can dive down and nudge his way beneath Mako’s gut, the large guy moves – shockingly fast. His other hand comes down, slapping against Hanzo’s forehead and holding him at bay.

“Didn’t say you could have it.”

Jesse sees Hanzo’s shoulders sag and hears his wheezing breath. When he creeps around – slow and careful, strangely afraid to pull Roadhog’s attention towards himself (Stupidly feeling like he doesn’t want to pull the attention of the Alpha Male) – he can see tears in the corners of Hanzo’s eyes which are focused on the cock in front of his nose.

“That’s how you treat it.”

It takes Jesse too long to realize Mako is talking to him – that he has turned his head minutely and the mask is looking right at him while he is still jerking himself off centimeters in front of Hanzo’s face, the open wet gape of his mouth.

“It learns better when it doesn’t always get what it wants.”

His hand slides down; from holding Hanzo’s forehead to gripping his jaw, black painted fingernails scratching almost gently along the line of his beard. He lets him suckle on his big thumb and Hanzo looks content as a babe, even though he still peeks at Mako’s cock – still obviously wants to play with it instead.

He didn’t seem offended by getting reduced to nothing but warm, welcoming holes, and truth be told, Jesse had a hard time being offended for him.

Mako did pull him closer after a while, fingers so tight around his jaw it looked painful. He had an impeccable grip on Hanzo; not giving him room to wriggle any which way as he aimed carefully, thumb pressing down right across his piss hole, dragging a hard, little circle around it before pulling off with a grunt and the first hot splash of cum right across the bridge of Hanzo’s nose.

“Look. McCree.”

Jesse doesn’t know how he could ever not look. Hanzo’s back is arched to a degree that looks painful, mouth wide open in soundless lust.

He looked sleek like a cat in Roadhog’s lap, tight muscled belly rubbing slick with sweat against the generous, huge curve of the mercenary’s stomach whenever he jerked, hips gyrating.

“He doesn’t want to give my cock up, McCree.”

Mako’s voice was coming right out of a nightmare; deep and ethereal – it seemed to be smooth as silk and wheezing at the same time. It gave McCree the creeps, but it wasn’t enough to make him not want to fuck his fist – so who was the biggest freak here?

“Look at him go,” Mako purred, huge hands on Hanzo’s hips, fingers digging into the tight, small ass to pull the cheeks apart and give Jesse a better look of Hanzo’s hole – stretched and puffy around the fat cock spreading him open. Hanzo cried out a profanity at the new stretch, arms shooting up, hands scrabbling without purchase against the swell of Roadhog’s belly before he gave up with a rough sob and just held on as best he could – hugging the big man’s stomach.

“He’s working it,” Roadhog informed him – as if Jesse wasn’t able to see it. The way Hanzo’s rim tightened and relaxed, his body massaging the dick warming him up from the inside. “Doesn’t want to give it up. Glad to finally have a big dick destroying him.”

Jesse could feel his face flush with eager embarrassment, belly curling up into a tight fist of want. He was not badly endowed – but no match to Roadhog’s sheer girth.

Hanzo let himself sag forward as much as possible, forehead pressing high up against Mako’s belly just beneath his wide, muscled chest. He was shuddering all over, muscles in his back twitching for McCree’s viewing pleasure. He was soaked in sweat, and McCree dimly thought he’d never been as worked up when it was just the two of them.

He likes it. Watching Mako drag a huge hand along Hanzo’s back and tell him – not unkindly – “Little sluts need big cocks. I know… I know…”

Roadhog was only talking in short sentences, but they were sinuous – sliding right into McCree’s core and slotting into a spot he hadn’t known existed until he watched Hanzo’s eyes light up when seeing Mako’s dick. (Until he saw how Hanzo fucking cuddled with the meaty cock, rubbing his face against it and mouthing at the spongy tip until it was swelling for him and Mako was good to go.)

He was right, too – Hanzo looked loathe to lift up even an inch; preferring to just twist his hips, drag Roadhog’s cock along his needy walls and have himself stuffed to the brim.

Jesse wondered whether he had a bulge in his belly. He wondered whether next time Hanzo would turn around and let him watch from the front – how his face became slack with lust, chest heaving with gasped, little breaths.

“Watch and learn, McCree.”

McCree had never been good at that; not in his Deadlock days and not in his time at Blackwatch. But fuck him if he wasn’t turned on by Roadhog showing him how to fuck his archer silly.

[Part 1] [Part 2]

Gabriel’s grin is too wide. His teeth seem to be never ending in his jaw, inhumanly sharp and glinting like bone against the darkness of his skin.

“Hear that, Shimada?” he purrs, body bearing down on the other man. He is more mist than flesh – soot that wafts in and out of focus and that makes it near impossible for Hanzo’s scrabbling hands to get a grip as Reaper’s jaw falls open and a too long too dark tongue snakes out to drag along his throat and the soft, vulnerable underside of his chin. “McCree wants to replace you with the real deal.”

(McCree, for his part, is just staring, a numb whisper of “oh shit…” falling from his lips. He looks like he doesn’t know whether he should be afraid or turned on by the proceedings, cock half hard and undecided in his gripping, motionless hand.)

Hanzo growls, dark eyes flashing – blunt, human teeth bared in a surprisingly accurate facsimile of Gabriel’s demonic grin.

“I haven’t heard the good soldier protest either.”

He says it softly; whispers it into the vague shape of Reaper’s ear like a lover.

Gabriel freezes, the realization apparently just dawning on him, and Hanzo utilizes his lack of concentration to curl strong thighs around partly formed hips and swing them around onto their sides; giving himself room to breathe without getting smothered by the substantial, if formless, bulk above him.

Gabriel seems shocked into his human form for the moment; only little tendrils of smoke curling up around his shoulders as he stares at Hanzo.

When his gaze flickers over towards the two men standing to the side of the bed and watching, he looks almost… sheepish. Unsure. Shy.

The look vanishes as fast as it had come over him. Reaper tilts his head, pressing their foreheads together in a parody of intimacy, and reaches down, hand curling around one of Hanzo’s ass cheeks, fingers intrusively sliding in deep; rubbing across the warm clench of muscle he finds there.

Hanzo grits his jaw at the broad, dry fingertip trying to wriggle its way inside.

“You’re so uptight,” Reaper croons, amusement badly hidden, “no wonder McCree wants to swap it around. He wants to have a fuck that isn’t taking it like a fish. He wants someone that can give it back just as well as he dishes it out.”

Hanzo grins with one side of his mouth; sharp and sardonic as he gets one arm around the width of Reaper’s chest and pulls him close, their pecs squishing together and rubbing as he lets Gabriel drag his hips closer by the grip he has on his ass.

He is whispering something back, but it is drowned in McCree’s deep groan and his drawled “That’s what I’m talkin’ about… that’s a sight for sore eyes, I tell ya.”

And they would look like they’re about to bite each other bloody and get their hands around the other’s throat; dark eyes gleaming maliciously and noses curled in barely suppressed snarls – only that they’re hard and McCree can’t stop from staring at their cocks bumping and nudging; practically snuggled up against each other, and oh they’re suddenly kissing.

It’s aggressive and wet; more tongue and teeth than anything else. 76 is shifting next to him from one foot to the next, blue eyes focused with laser intent on the proceedings; and when Reaper starts lapping blood off of Hanzo’s mouth with his serpent tongue, Jesse wonders vaguely what the fuck he’d gotten himself into.

.o.

McCree might have forgotten how scared shitless he’d been of his old commander. Yes. He might have forgotten the part where he’d gotten confused, painful boners whenever Reyes had chewed him out in front of everyone back in their Blackwatch days.

How he’d found himself on ops with a small puddle of cum cooling uncomfortably in his shorts just from his commander barking into his ear to ‘take the fucking shot, pendejo’ and how he’d never been quite sure if he was going to nut or piss his pants because Reyes was fucking hot but also scary.

He was even scarier now, crawling towards McCree with a grin on his face that was warping; stretching out farther and sharper than humanly possible, eyes alight with a hellish glint. He wondered how Morrison got it up, let alone stick his cock anywhere near this mass of focused evil.

He wondered why the fuck he was so hard it hurt when Reyes was nuzzling up against his cock, tongue snaking out long and scary and curling a couple times around his dick. It felt cool and slick. Jesse’d never been so conflicted about his desires.

Morrison next to him seemed to have no hangups. He was carding fingers through Hanzo’s hair, and humming beneath his breath, hips rocking forward, trying to nudge the head of his cock against the archer’s soft palate.

Hanzo was staring up at 76 – and for just a moment, McCree forgot about the eldritch horror suckling his cock, because he was transfixed by the sight and sound of Hanzo taking dick. Eyes dark and needy, spit slicking from the corner of his mouth in his eagerness to try and take it as deep as possible and still have the head somehow drag across his tongue.

His inattention immediately was punished by teeth testing their razor sharp edges against the sensitive flesh of his cock. Eyes bulging, he stared down into the pissy face of Reaper. He was growling and… and that wasn’t helping. Not when it was vibrating along McCree’s dick and making his eyes water and balls throb in painful arousal.

“Oh lord,” he whispered, hands curling into helpless fists. He wanted to touch but didn’t dare to. Reaper was one hell of a frightening power bottom. He wondered whether he’d go out with both hands still attached if he touched him anywhere that wasn’t allowed.

“Hey, McCree.” Morrison’s midwestern drawl made him turn his head back slowly, dumbly staring as 76 easily hooked his thumb into the corner of Hanzo’s mouth, breaking the tight, suckling seal the archer has had on him until now.

Hanzo groaned, eyes already glassy, letting his mouth get fucked idly by 76’s finger as he kept the unmoving cock warm. His lips were shiny with drool.

“How ‘bout you take better care of my boy. I’m sure he’ll thank you plenty.”

“I’m honestly not sure anymore…” Fuck, where had his bravado gone? Lost and never to be found somewhere between Reyes crawling towards him and getting his teeth on his cock in a fit of petty jealousy.

Hanzo’s head turned minimally, eyes slanting in cat-like satisfaction towards Reaper. His eyebrows twitched up and McCree thought he’d never seen so much pure smugness in such a little gesture.

Reyes’ face… honestly, McCree couldn’t even try to fathom what that expression meant. He winced when Reaper suddenly moved, hands twitching belatedly towards his cock to try and shield it from whatever outburst would follow now – only for Reyes to nuzzle his dick with almost desperate vigor, mouth soft and needy as he ducked down and licked Jesse’s balls with reverence.

“Oh,” he breathed, staring down and then towards Jack who nodded at him and clapped him on the shoulder.

“That’s right.”

“…oh.”

.o.

Jack wondered vaguely what Hanzo and Gabriel might be thinking; side by side, scrabbling at the sheets on the bed to try and steady themselves as they get deep dicked; big cocks spreading their soft, spongy insides apart and blunt, swollen heads nudging against those deep, never fully satisfied places.. He wonders if they even think anything beyond getting fucked – beyond trying to spread their legs farther and bounce back with more vigor; try taking cock deeper and better.

They are looking at each other, their cheeks pressed against the mattress like sleepy kittens, eyes feverish and glazed, mouths open and drooling.

There is no way they can sleep when they have cocks warming up their bellies from the inside.

McCree seems to have rediscovered his easy happy-go-lucky attitude. He has his left hand on Gabriel’s right hip and is riding him like a stallion, foot up on the edge of the bed and laying into Gabriel with sharp, overenthusiastic thrusts that smack loud and drive deep.

Gabriel – isn’t complaining. He is complacent like a pup, now that he finally gets what he’s always wanted: a cock splitting him open and someone rude enough to make him take it. He even has one hand on his ass, fingers clawing at the cheek as he pulls it to the side, trying to give better access. He can be so sweet and accommodating if he wants to.

Jack, for his part, feels almost drunk – or sick. His head feels hot and filled with cotton. His feet are tickling with pins and needles. Fucking Hanzo is like being on the brink of a seizure, and he doesn’t know if he could stop even if he wanted to.

The assassin is like silk around his cock – wet and clinging, insides moving in shivering little clenches that 76 couldn’t begin to wonder whether they were intentional or happy and nervous little spasms.

His back is sweat slick, muscles rippling, spine dipped into the most tantalizing little cup 76 had ever seen – he’s taking the force of his thrusts and just bounces back with a throaty gurgle and a roll of his shoulders.

He is muttering Japanese. Low, angry sounding hisses that couldn’t be anything but curses whenever the soldier’s cock slides against a particularly needy part.

When 76 reaches down, intent on getting his hand around that lovely, sleek cock he gets his hand batted away impatiently, dark liquid eyes staring at him over the swell of Hanzo’s shoulder.

“Let me come on your cock.” It’s a plea as much as it is a demand. His face is sweaty and flushed dark. He looks like he can barely breathe; as if the cock reaming him was not letting him get a good gulp of air in – and Jack had to admit, it was doing wonders for his ego.

“Damn, I love your ass. Always loved your fat, fuckin’ ass, Reyes.”

Jack’s attention swerved back to the side; to McCree’s almost maniacal grin as he suddenly stopped mid-fuck and pulled away to Gabriel’s unending dismay.

He was groaning, low and panicked, hands scrabbling backwards to try and have a grip at McCree’s hips, body starting to lose its form as he whines for the dick back; even asks with a sweet, surprisingly high voice – begs for Jesse McCree’s cock and doesn’t give a fuck that others can hear it because he’s deep down in his head and Jack doesn’t think he can think beyond a big, hard dick reaming him.

“Calm down. Jus’ turn around, will ya? Wanna get a look at your face when I finish off inside ya…”

Jack almost barks out a laugh with how frantically Gabriel starts scrabbling, before he settles on dissolving and reforming on the spot; knees falling open and slick abdominal muscles clenching.

McCree groans, hands stroking down the insides of Gabriel’s thighs and gripping big, rude handfuls of the thick muscle.

“You’re one scary motherfucker. But damn you’re a nice fuck when you got a dick inside ya.”

Jack snorts, one hand dragging down Hanzo’s spine in a slow, soothing pet. McCree looked like he was going to nut any second now, and he wasn’t feeling much better if he were quite honest.

He wondered how McCree would like a contest of who could make their pet come faster with a tongue in their sloppy, creamed holes.

Slanting a gaze over, McCree’s tongue was hanging out of his mouth, eyes fixed on the way Gabriel’s cock bobbed as he got fucked, hands on those wide, sturdy hips.

Yeah… McCree looked like he was up for anything.

Hanzo gets his sensetiv nipples pierced

“You’re a slutty drunk,” Jesse whispers. It sounds reverent; like he’s just thanking the gods while he stares down at Hanzo crumpled on the bed, trying to touch his sore looking nipples and getting needy and frustrated when it hurts more than he usually enjoys.

“You’re a fuckin’ slutty drunk who gets his tits pierced when he ain’t supervised.” He’s babbling and McCree knows it, but he’s never been good at any brain-to-mouth filter, especially when he’s helplessly horny like now; watching Hanzo groan in drunken frustration, hand gingerly cupped beneath his pec.

He’s red-faced and bleary-eyed and stinks of a mixture of sake and beer… and it’s right up Jesse’s alley.

He has no idea when Hanzo even managed to stumble away from their little camp on the back of the base, leaving McCree, Torbjörn and Tracer to drink on their own, and he has no idea how Hanzo managed to get his nipples pierced – but he ain’t complaining. Oh he ain’t complain’, pardner.

“McCree!” Hanzo hisses. He arches his back and struggles out of the sleeve of his yukata that’s been hanging off of his arm improperly for a while now. If he’d intended to say more – probably some ill-tempered order – he never did so. Rather, he became distracted by his own chest again; staring down at his pecs and squinting at the puffy, raised flesh of his nipples.

“Pretty, ain’t it?” Jesse drawls, crawling onto the bed. He grips Hanzo’s wrist before he can touch his chest again and presses the hand down onto the bed with a firm, warning squeeze. Hanzo tries to sneer at him, but it ends up being a cross-eyed look of helplessness instead as he arched and curled his hips up, mashing his hard cock against McCree’s crotch.

“Subtle,” Jesse murmurs, eyes travelling down the flush on Hanzo’s throat towards his pecs. His nipples, usually tan, were an angry red from Hanzo’s inebriated poking, the endings of the bar piercings glinting invitingly next to the pouty nub.

Jesse tried imagining them clamped in the cold metal of the piercer’s special tongue, but his brain fried at the picture it came up with. Had Hanzo been groaning when it happened? Had he gotten hard on the chair, because he got off on his own lewdness?

“You’re killin’ me,” Jesse murmurs and dips down to dance the tip of his tongue along the swollen, puffy areola, just because it was begging for it. Hanzo hisses and jerks, one arm coming up with his hand balled into a fist as if to strike Jesse on the side of the head – but ends up just gripping his shaggy hair and pulling on it to press him closer.

When Jesse carefully presses his teeth against the very edge of the abused skin, he spits out a curse in Japanese and bucks up to him once more; drunkenly fucking his clothed cock against McCree’s belt buckle. Ouch.

Tears spring to Jesse’s eyes when Hanzo uses his unfriendly grip on his hair do drag him away and over, insisting with an in-eloquent grunt he pay attention to the other tit.

“Fuckin’ slutty when you’re drunk,” McCree whispers again, tonguing at the piercing and bringing his hand up to carefully tug on the other little metal ball because he can’t leave well enough alone. Hanzo chokes on a near-howl and almost bucks Jesse off; the muscular, compact body writhing like a goddamn snake as he tries to get away and get closer simultaneously.

The pain didn’t seem to be enough to make him not want his tits to get fondled and sucked, Jesse was giddy to notice.

He closed his lips around the abused, reddened area, starting a low, careful suck, and rolled the metal ball of the other piercing through his fingertips. It felt feverishly hot in his mouth. He wondered what Miss Ziegler would do when Hanzo arrived at her med-bay tomorrow; hung-over and ill-tempered, tits a red, swollen spectacle for everybody to see.

Or would Hanzo not go at all? Would he want to drag the healing process out, if he enjoyed it just as much as he seemed to right now; muttering filth in Japanese and fucking rude and selfishly up at McCree as he let himself get serviced by him?

Jesse couldn’t begin to fathom a guess.

He let the nipple pop out of his mouth with a loud, wet pop and observed it; dark red, obscene and puffy, with the metal of the bar piercing glinting cool and alluring against his skin.

“Damn, pardner,” he sighs, and dips his head, mouthing eager like a babe for the other one to suck it into his greedy mouth.

“Shhh, shh, shh,” McCree shushed, metal hand clamping over Hanzo’s mouth, and hips hunching further inward – pushing his cock deeper into the wet, delirious clutch of Hanzo’s body.

He could blearily see Hanzo’s eyes widen – staring at him wide and wet; seemingly so dumbfounded at how deep McCree could reach. How wide he’d fucked him open on his cock, and dragged all those catty, needy noises out of him.

“Ya need to be nice and quiet, dahlin’,” he whispered. He sounded drunk – felt drunk – even though he’s only had one beer. Hanzo was getting to his head.

He was moving constantly; muscles rippling and working around his cock. Suckling on his dick like he still hadn’t got used to the meaty girth. “God damn,” he whispered and jerked against Hanzo without having pulled out before hand. The reaction was as instantaneous as it was beautiful – Hanzo’s eyes fluttered shut with the jolt of his body, and he shouted against McCree’s prosthetic palm. His sensors picked the vibrations up and made them tickle through his arm up towards his shoulder.

McCree grit his teeth, mashing his hand more firmly around Hanzo’s jaw, keeping him nice and quiet as he began moving again. There was nothing fluid about his fucking – his hips were jerking in hunching, little motions that kept him from actually moving too far out.

He was fucking Hanzo on just a couple centimeters of his dick, mostly simply keeping him full, and Hanzo went wild for it. He was flushed and sweaty, the bruises McCree had sucked into his chest standing out in livid colors.

His body was still working around him. Rippling and suckling and making a spectacle out of the whole mess by giving off little, wet smacking sounds whenever McCree pulled out far enough to actually ram back inside.

“Quiet, quiet, quiet,” he was groaning out low, right into Hanzo’s face. He was just babbling for the sake of it, not registering what exactly it was that he was saying. McCree was thinking with his dick; thinking about how he was going to fill Hanzo up, and how sore his swollen balls would feel afterwards. Hanzo couldn’t make a sound except for a low, desperate keening deep in his throat.

McCree would never have imagined how desperate Hanzo would be for cock. How that pink, little hole would become pouty and hungry to get filled, opening up like a dream for a big dick that knew what it wanted.

“Fucking slut. So good. So gorgeous. Yeah, take it. Take my dick, an’ keep quiet like a good boy. Like a fuckin’ good boy, dahlin’.”

Sweat was tickling down his spine and gathering in the small of his back. He was fucking like an animal, hips hunching into his desperate, abrupt thrusts, deep dicking Hanzo – trying to practically crawl after his cock into that slick, clutching space that felt like wet silk clinging to him.

Hanzo’s face was red. He probably couldn’t breathe too well. His dark, liquid eyes started to cross from the overload of sensations, and McCree dumbly wondered whether he’d found Hanzo’s prostate and had been pummeling against the puffy gland the whole time.

Hanzo’s fingers were on his back. It felt like he was trying to rip it open while he bucked up towards him; towards the meaty cock driving into him.

“Stay silent, nice and silent, that’s right that’s the ticket, good boy good boy,” McCree babbled, pressing their foreheads together and listening to the desperate huffing coming from Hanzo’s nose.

“Fuckin’ good little slut.”

yooo. *shifty eyes* … @bicosporn because reasons 😛 didn’t think I’d write it so soon tbh but I had a surprising amount of time and dedication today.

‘tis basically McCree being really into Hanzo’s tits and having a dirty mouth.

McCree hadn’t listened to Winston’s briefing for a good five minutes, and he supposed there would be some people pissed off about his lack of attention, but really he was confused about how anyone was able to concentrate when Hanzo was making a show out of himself right there on the other side of the room for everybody to see.

McCree sure as hell wasn’t able to focus on anything else other than Hanzo’s chest since Winston had moved down from the dais, and Hanzo had moved with him to keep him in sight, rotating minimally but just enough for this poor, helpless bastard to see that he’d crossed his arms sometime during the lecture, and…

…and to be honest, these days it took little else for Jesse to get hot and bothered since he’d finally eroded Hanzo’s resistance a couple weeks ago. Hanzo was like a drug.

So Jesse just stood there, leaning against the wall and pretending he was bored to hell listening, when in reality he was ogling Hanzo across the room, face hidden by his wide-brimmed hat, furiously chewing on the toothpick he had taken with him after lunch.

Hanzo’s pecs looked positively plush, squished together like they were between the restricting frame of his biceps, and McCree wondered how deep that snug little valley between them could be. How deep the dip would be if he put his mind to squeezing Hanzo’s pecs together for his own selfish benefit.

He thought about cupping Hanzo’s chest; basically taking generous hand fulls of the smooth, defined muscles and kneading them; rubbing the palms of his hands across pouty nipples that would get hard and needy at the slightest attention, as he’d been able to confirm for himself.

He thought about straddling Hanzo’s ribcage; of having this proud princeling beneath him, looking up at him with dark, cool eyes that could start burning so quickly – Hanzo’s temper always close beneath the surface, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

McCree grit his teeth, feeling the toothpick start to splinter and warp. He pulled one knee up and put his foot on the wall behind him just to give the heavy weight of his lazily pulsing cock some room, and also shield his predicament from the others.

It was then that Hanzo moved, and the light shifted across the swell and dip of his chest, as well as the muscles of his tattooed left arm, showing it off just as much as the rest of his barely clothed-

Goddamn he was practically naked, wasn’t he?! McCree had been able to attest it himself how easy it was to pull the side of his kimono down from his shoulder, getting it to pool around his waist and giving delicious, free access to his upper body, and…

Jesse jerked out of his – well… obsession, if he was honest – as Torbjörn briefly stumbled into his leg. The briefing was over and the ones attending it were filing out – only McCree remained, carefully adjusting the swollen bulge of his cock, and trying to get his pulse back under control after Hanzo’s… after his… well. After his display.

It took him embarrassingly long to realize he wasn’t even alone in the room; that in fact Hanzo was still there, standing on the other side and looking at him with inscrutable dark eyes and a knowing smirk on his lips, half-hidden by the whiskers of the neatly kept beard.

“Ya little bastard,” Jesse whispered, stunned and delighted by the unexpected challenge thrown at his feet. He numbly watched Hanzo leave – then spat out the mangled remains of the toothpick and hurried after him.

It never occurred to McCree how well trained he already was.

.o.

“Na-ah, babydoll.” McCree struggled to hold Hanzo at a distance with the fist full of thick hair he’d grabbed earlier – and then, after Hanzo seemed determined to still get at his price, eyes glittering and mouth invitingly wet, he curled the other one around his cock to shield it. The metal felt blessedly cool against his angrily pounding flesh – especially after the suckling, eager heat of Hanzo’s mouth.

Hanzo’s lips parted, the tip of his tongue peeking out for a second. It looked as if he was about to stretch it out and try to touch it to the dark red head of McCree’s cock, then seemed to think better of it at the last moment and quickly closed his mouth, eyes flicking up to meet Jesse’s heated stare.

There was a flush across his prominent cheekbones. McCree had no idea what was going on in his head kneeling here in Hanzo’s small Overwatch HQ room, after having enthusiastically sucked McCree’s cock until his throat had bulged with it – McCree had been able to feel it with a hand curled around Hanzo’s throat.

“What is it?” Hanzo’s gaze started drifting back down, then quickly jerked back up again. McCree could feel his cock flex against the unrelenting grip of his metal hand. Hanzo was a fucking drug, and Jesse needed to keep his wits about him so he wouldn’t get dragged down into that swamp.

He swallowed thickly and squeezed his cock a little harder than necessary just to calm down. Hanzo looked delicious kneeling before him and looking up, upper body naked and tattoo dark against his left shoulder.

“Ah think you have somethin’ to make up to me, don’tcha?”

McCree watched Hanzo’s eyebrows drift together in chagrin, eyes sliding off to the side. McCree grinned, finding his feet once again, and feeling himself settle more firmly into what was happening.

“Did you think I’d just forget what you did? Lookin’ like a little slut; showin’ off your pretty tits to the whole room…”

It was fascinating to see the change in Hanzo’s face; how it slackened a little, the flush lowering from his cheekbones into his cheeks, eyes going even darker as his pupils blew wide. Jesse felt breathless, as if he’d ran for too long and too fast. He’d almost thought he’d be overstepping a boundary, but… seeing Hanzo’s reaction, he felt more secure in what he was about to do.

“Ah know y’ like showing off like a whore,” he crooned, words drawling out like syrup. He finally let go off his cock and instead cupped the side of Hanzo’s jaw, metal thumb dragging across his lower lip. “Why don’t ya show off for me? Show me your gorgeous tits. Been hungry for them for…”

He’s trailing off, never finishing the sentence, as he watches Hanzo move – hands lifting obediently; cupping the undersides of his pecs to slightly shove them together. He looks lewd and obscene and fucking perfect; showing off just like that as if he… as if he just wanted to be pretty and obedient for him – yet at the same time he looked away and to the side, seemingly embarrassed at his own needy display.

“Daaahlin’,” McCree groans, cock jerking against his dangling, broad belt buckle. “Get on the fuckin’ bed. Get on the fuckin’ bed, Hanzo.”

They nearly trip over each other like goddamn teenagers in their haste.

.o.

“Gorgeous, little slut. Lookit you showin’ off for me.”

McCree couldn’t believe that he was actually doing what he’d been fantasizing about not too long ago; kneeling astride Hanzo’s ribcage and watching him press his pecs together solely for Jesse’s viewing pleasure.

He began to wonder whether he’d hit his head during one of their missions and was maybe lying in a hospital bed somewhere.

The thought flew out of his head when he gently rocked his hips, the head of his dick dragging along the valley Hanzo had created, leaving behind sticky pre-cum.

Hanzo’s nostrils flared as he caught the sharp scent, and his mouth opened on a small, almost shy moan.

“Yeah…” McCree breathed, and then again, with a little euphoric laugh as he moved again, more assured this time, “Yeah.”

It was so easy to reach down and push Hanzo’s hands away; get his own on that glorious chest and knead and push just as he saw fit. Just a couple weeks ago – hell, just a couple hours ago – he hadn’t thought Hanzo would ever let him close enough to do this.

In the end, though, Hanzo looked downright drunk on the way Jesse used him. His hair was loose and all over the place – thick and dark as ink where it hadn’t greyed yet. It made him look out of it; totally enthralled by the motion of McCree’s cock through the valley between his pectoral muscles. The tips of his ears, whenever they peeked out of the mess of his hair, were bright red, and it struck McCree as shockingly adorable – a word he thought he’d never associate with Hanzo Shimada.

“Help me.. help me,” he chanted, voice low and shot. He dug his fingers into Hanzo’s chest when he immediately moved obedient and accommodating to McCree’s single-minded pleasure; hands coming up to form a tight roof across McCree’s cock and keep it from slipping out of the gratifyingly plush valley of his cleavage.

“Come…” Hanzo licked his lips and tried it again, eyes flicking up briefly to McCree’s face before staring down again, nearly cross-eyed as he watched the dark red, swollen tip of Jesse’s cock emerge from beneath his hands again and again. “Come closer.”

McCree didn’t think he’d ever forget the sight of Hanzo straining his head up, tongue out to try and get little licks in across his cock’s leaking tip.

“Oh god, oh god, oh…” He had to bite his tongue to stop babbling, and just kept watching, harsh gasps ripping out of his throat whenever he fucked into the warm, tight tunnel of Hanzo’s hands, and felt the fluttering touch of his tongue against the very tip.

When he came, he did so without warning – and remorse, if he was perfectly honest.

The sight of thick streaks of cum slicking across Hanzo’s chin and getting caught in the dark hair of his beard, was almost better than the burning, tugging sensation of the orgasm itself.

McCree wondered vaguely if Hanzo would ever agree to him taking pictures of his blissed-out cum-streaked face, because McCree thought he’d never seen anything sexier in his damn life – it was enough to motivate his dick into a valiant effort to stay hard.

“Gorgeous slut,” he whispered, dragging the knuckles of his right hand gently across Hanzo’s heated cheek.