Patreon Compilation – Fic#121 – McCree/Hanzo – unrequitted love; fuck buddies – Wish Upon A Star (Patreon)

McCree/Hanzo – they are fuckbuddies, but Hanzo might be developing something more of a crush on Jesse...

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Jesse pops open the buckles of his vest, shrugging it off with a low groan that runs through Hanzo’s body like wildfire. After near two hours of intense training, the stink wafting off of McCree as soon as the armor is clattering to the bench is so intense that Hanzo thinks the air is too thick to breathe.

“Shit, finally… I thought I wouldn’t live through it,” McCree groans and scratches his sac extensively. Hanzo watches it all through the mirror in his own changing locker, his tongue suddenly very dry and feeling swollen.

McCree swings his head around to look over to him. Hanzo can see the devilish glint in his eyes and is prepared for the large, brutish hand groping his ass as McCree walks past him. The thick fingers dig in deep, pushing his sweats into his ass crack and rubbing over his hole in a completely unnecessary way that shouldn’t get Hanzo as needy for this all as it does. His body feels alight without anything having happened, really.

Damn it all…

“Hey Shimada… I got a bottle of booze stashed away. How ‘bout I’ll swing over tonight and we share it?”

The invitation is as clear as day and completely unrepentant. It isn’t the first time Jesse has made these kinds of offerings. And it isn’t the first time Hanzo nods, not saying a thing because he doesn’t trust his voice to not tremble and betray how ripe he is for the picking.

McCree just grins, broad and lazy, swaggering past him toward the showers, taking the suffocating, delicious smell of his unwashed body with him. He probably thinks Hanzo is just his surly, bitchy self which is… just as well. Their arrangement is one of convenience. Two men in their prime wanting to shoot their loads in a warm body. Mutually beneficial.

It wouldn’t do letting on how much more… invested Hanzo has become for some odd reason. He scowls at himself in the mirror and keeps changing out of his training attire.

.o.

As promised, McCree comes by later that night. He looks around furtively before pushing into Hanzo’s rooms, roughly hewn paw on Hanzo’s chest to bully him deeper inside as they go. He leans down to press a messy kiss against his mouth and Hanzo can smell in that split second that he already indulged in that booze he promised and whose bottle is dangling from his other hand.

“Messy pig,” he growls in between kisses, trying not to make it sound as fond as he wants it to be. He reaches up, roughly grabbing McCree’s disheveled hair to hold him still as he licks into his mouth. He jerks on it a little more than necessary just to hear McCree groan from the pain of it all.

“Damn you’re in a mean mood tonight, aren’t ya?” the cowboy drawls when they finally pull apart, wet lips producing a soft smacking sound that is hitting Hanzo somewhere deep.

He just grunts, jerking his head to his nearby desk.

“Put it there and undress.”

McCree snorts but when Hanzo lets him go, he does precariously careen over on one foot to do as he is told. Hanzo watches with glowing eyes and heat in his belly. His mouth waters at the sight of McCree’s hairy chest being exposed, followed by his equally hairy belly with the pudge around the middle and sides.

He remembers the jolt going through his body the very first time he waited for McCree to get naked so they could get a nasty little fuck in one of the meeting rooms in. He’d told himself at the time that it was nothing; that he’d simply been starving for touch and been excited for the prospect of all that fur scratching against his skin while the brute worked away over him.

He knows better these days, of course… even though it had been quite a while until he admitted it. In secret. To himself.

McCree messily pushes off his boots and then opens his pants. His cock isn’t quite erect yet but on the best way there: chubby and a dark ruddy color as the blood courses through it, swinging with weight between his strong thighs. Hanzo’s breath catches in his throat as he has the brief flash of hunkering down between them and spending a lazy afternoon worshiping the cock.

Jesse reaches out for him, but Hanzo leans out of reach of his mechanic fingers.

“Your prosthetic,” he says breathlessly. “Take it off. You won’t need it tonight.”

The cowboy lifts one bushy brow, amused and intrigued.

“That so? Hmmm fine by me. The less I hafta do, the better.”

He turns away to grab the bottle and have a swig before he starts to work on releasing the clasps of his prosthetic. Hanzo’s belly is burning hot, the warmth creeping through his body better than any booze could ever do as he starts to undress himself.

Jesse doesn’t behave differently than normal. He is just as unapologetic, just as easy going as he has been from the very beginning of their little… arrangement, and Hanzo doesn’t know if he should be relieved or annoyed by it all. Why should he be the one fretting about giving something away when it usually is McCree with his big mouth and big heart that gets hung up on shit?

Hanzo can feel his mood souring. He grabs for McCree once he has carefully put his prosthetic on the desk next to the bottle, and bullies him to the bed. He doesn’t look at his face even when McCree starts to chuckle, the sound of his deep whiskey voice skittering through Hanzo and leaving warmth in its wake.

He shouldn’t focus on that. Instead he should focus on Jesse’s cock, swinging heavy between his thighs and growing harder by the minute. It curves to one side, the fat nose only lifting a few centimeters under the weight of the cock.

Hanzo is at least not ashamed to admit that he’s fallen in love with McCree dick first. He’s developed a sort of… obsession with the stupid thing before realizing that his feelings have started to move past that to encompass other rather striking aspects of the cowboy as well.

McCree topples to the bed. Hanzo crawls on top of him, staring at his jaw with the unkempt beard. While he reaches down to place McCree’s cock against his entrance, he notes how that jaw is moving slightly, thinking that Jesse probably wants one of his cigars just about now.

It annoys him that he has developed an understanding of McCree’s mannerisms on top of all of that. It just seems so… inconvenient.

“Go on then… or are ya waitin’ for another kiss?” Jesse croons. His eyes are heavy lidded, a little glassy with alcohol, yet still very much aware of what is happening. Hanzo can feel himself flush. He bares his teeth at him like an animal, then furrows his brow in concentration as he starts to sit down on McCree’s stupid big dick.

He can’t keep up the frown for long; not when he is finally getting stretched nice and wide again. They’ve only fucked last week but… well, he never got over the obsession he’s developed for McCree’s cock. The curve it got to it drags right against his prostate, following up on the zing of pleasure from McCree’s voice boy a jolt that has Hanzo swearing softly under his breath.

McCree grabs his thigh with his remaining hand, giving it a squeeze that is nice and warm. Entirely too gentle, really. It makes it difficult to remember that this is just an arrangement for the both of them. McCree is entirely too jovial… he makes it so easy to wonder what it would be like to kiss him again and again while he moves his hips and fucks himself on that big ruddy cock he got.

Hanzo closes his eyes. Maybe it is easier when he doesn’t look him in the face while he rides him and has those pleasure sparks shooting through his body. His balls tingle as they keep dragging against the coarse hair all over McCree’s body. He’s furrier than the monkey, for God’s sake.

Jesse sighs deeply like a man settling down in his favorite armchair after a long day of work. Hanzo can feel him slightly shift his thighs behind him, rearranging his long legs and giving Hanzo an even better seat to throne upon.

“You’re so damn good at this…” Jesse drawls.

Hanzo can’t help but let his mouth drop open. His resolve is quickly crumbling as his insides keep spreading around the intruder again and again, his own dick standing proud and flushed a dark red, wetness glistening at the tip and occasionally dripping onto McCree’s furry belly.

He can just… he can just pretend for now, yes? If he keeps his mouth nice and shut, nothing has to change. McCree will come to him again and again, asking for Hanzo’s cooperation because at heart Jesse McCree is a slut.

Yes, yes, yes. This can just… this can just stay right how it is. Hanzo can do it. Eventually his feelings will dwindle down and dissipate. This is just the… the novelty of it all-

He can’t help his soft moans or that they start to crescendo even though he is short of breath. He is primed for his orgasm, it is tingling in the tips of his toes… and McCree isn’t helping at all, grabbing his cock and giving it gentle squeezes, voice deep and encouraging.

Damn this man.