June 2021 Drabble #1 (Patreon)

Hanzo/McCree – Hanzo and McCree are on an infiltration mission of some kind but they're too horny to actually pay attention to it.

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Hanzo turns on his back with a little sigh, then lifts one arm languidly into the air and snaps his fingers. Immediately he can hear the pool boy scramble to hurry toward him, the sound of his sandals slapping against his heels coming closer until they stop right next to him.

Hanzo turns his head and peers up at the shadow looming above.

McCree looks a fascinating mix of annoyed and eager as he stands there in his tight little bathing shorts and a towel slung over his shoulder.

Hanzo takes his time looking him up and down; taking in the hairy chest and brown nipples, then moving down his equally hirsute belly to stare at his bulge. There is a thick bush crawling out of the little slip of swimwear, tapering off toward his belly button.

“Ye’re enjoyin’ this a little too much, don’tcha think?” Jesse drawls. He looks around pointedly. “Nobody here to see ya play the rich little boy.”

Hanzo pushes his sunglasses higher up on his nose again and slowly lowers one hand over his chest, thumb and forefinger decadently squeezing the pudgy areola of his inverted nipple for McCree’s viewing pleasure.

“I think my pool boy should just shut up and get on creaming my chest… with sunscreen,” he says slowly, eying the entrance to the hotel out of the corner of his eyes. “There could be guests coming out any minute… we don’t want them to think that something weird is going on, do we?”

The corner of his mouth curls up in a slow, self-satisfied grin. McCree’s eyes are stuck on his chest, the fat bulge in his little speedos looking even bigger as he shuffles a bit closer.

“Hmm… I mean… if ya say it like that…”

He glances over his shoulder briefly, then reaches up and clicks off his communication device while brushing his hair back behind his ear. Hanzo stretches himself, giving McCree a good view of his chest moving as he does so just as a reward for thinking for once. Neither of them really need any of the others listening in on this… Jack would just have to get an aneurysm.

Reaching beside the chair, Hanzo grasps the bottle of sunscreen and lifts it up, wiggling it into McCree’s face.

“Well then… get on with it, pool boy. Or I’ll take it off your tip.”

McCree’s wide, sensual mouth twitches despite the annoyance on his face.

“Fancy little bitch, ain’t cha? Hmm… very well.”

He snatches the bottle and to Hanzo’s utter delight swings one long leg over the reclining chair to straddle him.