Patreon Compilation – Fic#61 – Angelo/Hanzo – no sex; massage; 'getting caught' – Thirsty (Patreon)

Hanzo has been watching Angelo since the doctor came back from work. As per usual, it was a long day filled from the wee morning hours with experiments, patients and meetings. He can see Angelo has made an effort to put himself back together before coming into their shared rooms on the base, but he can also see that he is utterly exhausted.

There is a slump to his broad shoulders that is usually not there, spine mildly curved in an almost defeated slump. Angelo is a tall man, and all the desks and chairs are just a hair too low for him, resulting in excruciating back pain by the end of the day.

Hanzo is slowly lowering his data pad, laying it on his belly and watching Angelo move about the rooms after giving him a small, distracted smile.

“Are you well?” he asks. The Doctor pauses hanging up his garments. Beneath he is wearing a turtleneck sweater and some simple, soft pants. He looks very… approachable and cuddly. It makes Hanzo almost squirm. He really wants to touch him and snuggle up.

Angelo smiles at him a little curious, putting the coat on its peg.

“I am, actually. Thank you for asking,” he replies politely.

Hanzo watches him move about some more. He reaches down blindly, turning off the data pad. He puts it to the side, then weaves his fingers together on his belly as he keeps watching his lover puttering around.

Angelo is rolling his head along his shoulders every now and then, reaching up thoughtlessly to squeeze the hard muscles in the crook of his neck. Hanzo sits up and scoots to the edge of the bed.

“Angelo,” he says, watching as the doctor flinches slightly as he must have been deep in thoughts. Angelo turns to him with a soft grunt of confusion. Hanzo stands and points imperiously to the now vacated bed.

“Take off your sweater. I will massage you.”

The order sounds absolute, and a little gruff maybe, but Angelo is smiling at him all white teeth and dimpled cheeks as if Hanzo had crooned at him in the sweetest voice.

“Oh, really? That’s… that’s actually really appreciated. Thank you.”

There is no false pretense, no begging off, and Hanzo smiles slightly with a corner of his mouth in satisfaction. He likes that Angelo is uncomplicated like that.

As he makes his way into the bathroom to look for their expensive little bottle of oil, Angelo undresses obediently. The data chips for work are forgotten on the desk for a moment. It can be a fight getting him to let loose of experiments and patients, but tonight he seems more than happy to just follow Hanzo’s lead and let himself get pampered for once.

Hanzo pauses in the doorway for a moment, just taking in the sight of Angelo stretched out on their bed, wearing comfortable sweatpants and looking very delicious. He has not yet let his hair down from the tight ponytail he dons most of the time. He’s always practical like that.

Hanzo finally gets to moving and comes closer. He puts the little bottle of slightly scented oil on his bedside table and twists to put a hand on the small of Angelo’s back. He tends to run a bit colder than is usual, so he held his hands beneath warm water for a bit.

Angelo sighs, relaxing into the bedding. He obviously appreciates the effort.

They don’t speak. They’re both not big on words, Hanzo even less than Angelo who has to be talking almost nonstop during the day, and it is nice to just sit and enjoy the silence while Hanzo lets his hands wander; first one, then two.

Like like this, Hanzo does not need to overly worry about his cold hands. They just naturally keep warm due to the friction.

There is nothing sexual about his touches as he rubs a slow, gentle line along Angelo’s spine, or drags his palms in circles against his shoulder blades. It is just gentle comfort that the both of them soak up like sponges.

He leans down, pressing a kiss against the sensitive nape of Angelo’s neck, while simultaneously reaching for the small bottle of oil.

He shifts, moving to kneel first next to Angelo, and when he realizes the angle is awkward, straddles his hips.

The position is familiar, his soft cock pressing against the alluring swell of Angelo’s ass, but neither of them make any move to try and get a rise out of the other.

Angelo seems already sleepy. He turns his head and slurs into the room for Athena to put on the news. It is a weird little pastime that Hanzo could never quite understand, but as the voice of one of many reporters begins to softly fill the silence of the room, Angelo relaxes to listen. Hanzo doesn’t mind one way or the other. He listens half-heartedly with one ear but is mostly focused on drizzling a bit of oil into his palm and then spreading it on his hands.

Hanzo is quiet, focused on the task at hand as he finally gets to work. He is no professional massage therapist by any means, but Angelo starts sighing and relaxing in no time, gently twisting beneath him to wordlessly show him how he enjoys one treatment or the other.

It is not necessarily about getting to loosen up his muscles in the best way possible, but more to just help him relax and be together after a long day of working on completely opposite points on base.

Angelo’s skin is smooth and warm beneath Hanzo’s rubbing hands. Soon enough with the oil spread out, it glistens silkily. Distractingly. He kind of wants to lean down and start kissing the breadth of his shoulders or the vulnerable slip of his nape beneath the fall of his ponytail, but Angelo already sounds half asleep and not really in the mood for more which Hanzo can accept.

It is when he starts digging his thumbs in harder against the hard muscles in Angelo’s lower back that the good doctor begins to make sounds; low, appreciating groans of satisfaction as he presses his forehead against his arms and moves his whole back in a feline wave.

Hanzo smirks quietly to himself, feeling rather smug at being able to wrestle this tall man down with just a few touches.

The doctor becomes more animated after that, a constant low stream of sound being seemingly pressed out of him by Hanzo’s hands dragging up and down his spine, rubbing him slow and intense.

It’s almost like the purr of a kitten, though Hanzo keeps that special comparison all to himself. He does not want Angelo to become self-conscious and maybe stop himself from making any sounds; and it is also an embarrassing thing to say.

It is when he uses his nails as well and drags them in a gently scratching motion down Angelo’s back that he really moans. It is not sexual, not per se – though it does kind of light a fire inside Hanzo – but it is loud and guttural and very unmistakably a moan as he arches his back up and begs high-pitched and a bit whiny: “Please do that again…”

The news reporters in the background have long since been drowned out by Angelo’s sounds. Hanzo makes himself heavier, trying to keep Angelo fixed to the bed so he won’t accidentally buck him off as he follows along with the good Doctor’s plea and begins to gently scratch down his backs and his sides; making him feel every bump of his ribs in the process.

He is so focused on his task that when the door to their room suddenly bursts open and two people spill in, Hanzo nearly has a heart attack. He only realizes he is reaching for a hidden knife that isn’t there when he is already halfway down the back and ready to throw it at the assailant’s throat.

He pauses when he sees pink and green on the floor. Their youngest residents, though by no means children.

“Miss Song. Mister Dos Santos,” he says slowly, brain having trouble keeping up with what is happening as they unwind themselves and start to slowly get up. The embarrassed heat radiating off of them is almost palpable even two feet away.

Angelo has turned around slightly, owlishly blinking at the two of them who stare back just as surprised and confused.

“What were you doing?!” Hana bursts out suddenly. Angely lifts a hand, dragging it across his face.

“I was getting a massage, Miss Song. What were you doing?” he says slowly. He sounds drowsy and like it is a chore to try and speak right now. Hanzo could wring the necks of the two of them.

“We were… uh… that is… the walls are not really soundproof…”

Hanzo narrows his eyes at them. He doesn’t know what he looks like but it must be scary enough for them to profusely apologize while also hastily escaping in just as much of an ungainly flail as they had suddenly interrupted them.

Children.