Reward Drabble for my Honorary Sibling Patron! (Patreon)

McCree/Jack – bottom!McCree; big boi crumbling beneath gentle touches 

Them spotting and recognizing each other in the bustling city of Numbani had been an absolute chance meeting.

Granted, the rooftops in the outer districts of the city were not quite as crowded as the shopping mile, but there is something to be said about stumbling across an old comrade in the most unlikely of places.

Soldier had advanced carefully, rifle lifted at the ready, pointed at what had looked like a sack of discarded clothes at the time. He’d nudged at a boot, and Jesse had lifted the brim of his head, blinking up into the light, seemingly unsurprised that he would be disturbed by someone else on a rooftop.

Jack hadn’t recognized him just from staring at the old hat and the red serape curled about his person, but the face… well that is instantly recognizable even if it is a good deal more scruffy and just… older than the last time he’s seen it.

He lowered his rifle immediately to his side, and even though he himself had been wearing his visor he had been able to see the recognition in Jesse’s dark eyes as well.

Nobody had said a thing, and Jack had slowly reached out with his free hand, pulling Jesse up. Still tall with his long legs, but somewhat hunched as if about to crumble beneath an invisible weight.

Life had not been kind to the kid. There had been a couple bottles of booze lying where he had sat slumped over, but his eyes seemed clear enough. His steps had at least been sure as he’d quietly followed Soldier like a little boy down the rooftop and into an alley.

Jack of course couldn’t be sure that Jesse even was still… trustworthy. It had been utterly foolish to bring him just like that into his safehouse – but it had been so many years and he’d missed the kid a lot.

“Nice room, boss,” Jesse had drawled; the first words out of his mouth since blinking up into Jack’s face against the sun. He’s sounded sincere; even more important, though, his voice had sounded just like it had back then: a deep whiskey rough drawl that never fails to make Jack feel warm and loose inside.

Jack hadn’t answered, just started pulling clothes off of the man.

And Jesse… let him.

He looks vulnerable on the single mattress on the floor even though he is big and hirsute all over. He has grown a little bit more since… then.

His chest is a thick barrel, arms corded with muscle. Thighs thick for running. He doesn’t have the finely tuned Blackwatch body anymore, but Jesse McCree still is a fighter and Jack loves the thought that this sad man can still pull himself out of his depression and haul ass if need be.

He watches Jack when he starts peeling himself out of his own clothes, and Jack lets him; just stares back with equal intensity as he keeps looking him up and down; planning how to take his boy.

Their boy.

But Gabe’s not here anymore.

There’s a moment where he pauses, wondering if Jesse won’t want to play like this anymore; but when his knees hit the mattress, Jesse’s legs spread as easy as anything, even though he looks unsure.

“I… ah… sorry… ‘bout the mess… I didn’t think…”

He is gesticulating to his crotch where his pubes have exploded into a forest that is crawling down into his ass crack. Jack growls at him, leaning in and bracing himself on Jesse’s belly. It looks a bit fatty but when he touches it he can feel the steely muscles beneath the crinkling hair and the layer of softness.

“You’re perfect,” he grunts after a good long look at Jesse’s face. Yes, he can still see the younger him beneath the unkempt beard. Their poor little boy…

He grabs one of Jesse’s long legs and lifts it, hiking it over his shoulder until the warm back of his knee is hooked there securely. He straddles his other leg, and Jesse helpfully turns his body to the side, one big hand – mechanical… – coming up to dig nervous fingers into the pillow next to his face.

He doesn’t look at Jack, but he makes a soft, vulnerable sound when his slick wet fingers part the thick fur in his ass crack and hit the tender little hole.

He sounds just like all those years ago. He’s still just as sensitive; blooming open beautifully beneath Jack’s questing fingers, breathy little sounds twining into the air as Jack pushes thick knuckles against the wet little rim to finger it open.

They become louder; more needy love cries when Jack starts to round his prostate; plump little thing needing gentle touches from his slowly rounding fingers.

“Are you still as insatiable as you were in the past?” he asks him a little breathlessly as he shuffles forward and starts to nudge the tip of his cock against him with little nudges of his hips.

Jesse is just breathing heavily for a little longer, seemingly focusing on the feeling of a cock slipping into him. Jack wonders when the last time has been for his boy. Whether he hasn’t had a dick in his guts since everything went to hell, or whether he makes a living out of spreading those hairy cheeks for a couple bottles of booze in return…

“I don’t know if I can satiate you… we’re one man short,” he murmurs as he begins thrusting; a slow little in-and-out that has Jesse already crumbling and whimpery.

“But I’ll try…”