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This week's fic is a 'blast from the past' fic! To see on why that is, please have a small look into the pinned post. As already stated there, I can't encourage you enough to link your patreon to discord to have a peek into the patron-only channel – or to DM me for further info if you can't/don't want to link. Thank you!

Readable for all tiers this time :)

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This blast from the past is Patreon Comp Fic#4! Please enjoy this McCree/Hanzo :)

rimming; praise kink; foreskin; topping from the bottom (kinda) – Hanzo is a bossy bitch and Jesse is too laid back to do anything about it. Not that he wants to do anything about it.

.o.

Jesse is on his back, head and shoulders propped by a pillow. The light in the shitty motel room is not the best; it’s murky and orange, but also kind of perfect for them to lay low and have a bit of fun while Talon is still searching the base for them.

He’s naked and still a bit grimy, but so is Hanzo, and he does not seem to mind one bit. Jesse reaches for the cigar he’s left glowing in the ashtray on the bedside table and puffs on it while watching Hanzo.

Watching Hanzo watch him.

“See somethin’ you like?” he murmurs, voice deep and rumbling from his somewhat awkward positioning. There’s some emotion glittering in Hanzo’s dark eyes, but it is impossible in this light to pinpoint what exactly he is thinking.

“Maybe…”

Hanzo reaches for him, curling one hand around one of his feet, thumb digging into the vulnerable sole. The muscles in Jesse’s thigh twitch. He’s close to pulling away but then doesn’t. He keeps puffing the cigar, watching intently as Hanzo lifts his leg and presses a kiss against his ankle before putting Jesse’s calf over his shoulder.

Jesse’s breathing starts speeding as he’s opened up more to Hanzo’s gaze; showing off the insides of his thighs, dark with hair, and the humid space beneath his heavy balls. Hanzo stares without any shame, and Jesse has to look away and breathe deep through the embarrassment that wants to well up. He’s never been uncomfortable with his own body or looks, but Hanzo’s single-minded staring can make a man rethink all his life choices.

One of Hanzo’s big hands slides from Jesse’s shin down to the underside of his thigh. He digs his fingers hard into the big muscle there and Jesse digs his head back into the pillow and groans deep in his chest. Hanzo has a way of making shit hurt so good. He knows there’ll be bruises forming soon; deep seated and lasting for a while and from the dark, possessive gaze Hanzo levels him with, it is very much intended.

Hanzo’s eyes travel down his body; staring at his hairy chest, then down at his guts; equally hirsute. Firm muscle encased by a good helping of fat. Jesse’s body is thick and sturdy, trained by necessity and not for aesthetics, but Hanzo seems to appreciate it even so. He reaches out, hands on Jesse’s belly, then sliding to the sides to grab at the fat on his thick hips. Jesse pulls in a deep breath through his nose, then blows it out through his mouth, the cigar hanging between his teeth, forgotten for a moment.

He can feel Hanzo making a sound through the vibration in the leg he’s got across his shoulder. It feels like he’s goddamn purring. Jesse throws him a crooked grin that Hanzo does not acknowledge as he starts hunkering down between Jesse’s thighs, lying on his belly and leisurely fucking against the dubiously clean motel mattress.

Jesse can’t hear his sigh, but he sure can feel the warm, languid puff of air against his slowly fattening cock. It is nothing near hard, but watching Hanzo do just about anything gets him there pretty fast these days despite age.

Having Hanzo between his thighs in an obvious mood to treat Jesse is no exception. Hanzo hums and hooks one arm across Jesse’s thigh. The other gets curled around the leg still propped across his shoulder and back, hand easily, unselfconsciously reaching for his cock.

Hanzo helps himself to Jesse’s body like he owns it. It excites Jesse to no end, even if it is a bit embarrassing to have the archer’s intent, serious gaze now leveled on his dick, chubby and no doubt warm to the touch but foreskin still hiding the glans.

It’s not a pretty sight, he supposes; he has a generous amount of loose foreskin, silkily hugging his dick and keeping it nice and snug, but Hanzo has never seemed to mind any. Now, having him so close that the tip of his nose practically touches the wrinkled opening of warm skin, has Jesse flush and look away.

He wishes for his hat so he could drag it over his eyes and be spared the embarrassment, but it is hanging off the post at the foot of the bed, and Hanzo has him too neatly pinned to let him go anywhere fast.

Hanzo hums again and it sounds enough like words that Jesse squints back down at him.

“Whatcha say now?”

“I said I am surprised.”

Jesse pulls bushy brows together and watches as Hanzo reaches for him with his other hand as well, gently pinching the velvety lower lip of the foreskin’s opening between thumb and forefinger, while the other hand keeps his dick nice and steady.

He pulls in a deep breath. He can feel his flush spreading throughout his whole body when Hanzo slowly rubs the skin he has between his fingers. He looks like a scientist or some shit right then and it makes Jesse’s belly do a slow flip.

Before he can ask more, Hanzo continues.

“With other men, I have never much cared for this-” He goddamn wiggles Jesse’s dick left and right by his foreskin and Jesse chokes on a mouth full of thick smoke, his cheeks burning up, “but I find myself fascinated by it when it comes to you.”

He noses forward, nuzzling against Jesse’s cock, inhaling deeply and nudging the loose fold over the crown of his dick with the tip of his nose. Jesse does not think that he can flush harder. He is sure that he has to smell… not perfect, given that neither of them has taken a shower after hurriedly retreating from the Talon base, but Hanzo’s face goes a bit slack and his dark eyelashes flutter against his cheekbones as if he can’t get enough from… everything.

He murmurs something again, too low and rough for Jesse to hear, and this time he’s learned his lesson and does not ask again, for fear of dying of embarrassment. He should not be so easily riled, flushing like a little school girl, but…

Well, darn.

Hanzo is definitely something else. Especially when his tongue comes into the mix; snaking out and lapping at Jesse’s foreskin, than dipping into the loose opening until it touches to the sensitive crown of his dick.

Jesse slaps a hand across his face so he doesn’t have to look. His cigar is clamped between two fingers of his mechanic arm, thrown to the side and out of the way so he doesn’t goddamn choke himself while Hanzo is trying to kill him by being unexpectedly nasty.

He can feel his dick reacting, swelling rapidly, and Hanzo makes a sound that is confusingly canine and definitely disappointed.

“Stop this.”

“Babydoll,” Jesse wheezes, face pinched beneath the palm of his hand. “C’mon, I can’t-”

“I want to play.”

Jesse does not know what to say to that. He can’t even control his goddamn hips which are carefully rocking up into the firm grip Hanzo has on him; fucking into the warm, tight channel of his fist as his cock grows and the foreskin gets pulled back to show off a slip of the swollen tip.

When he chances a glance down, Hanzo looks pissed, staring at his cock like it personally offended him before leaning in to try – and succeed – in slipping his tongue in between the silky skin and the blood hot cock it is covering.

Jesse chokes on his own spit. Hanzo does not let up. He is determined and single minded, and he will not let Jesse’s uncooperative dick get in the way of what he wants to do: namely, play with Jesse’s foreskin and kill the cowboy in the process.

He is slurping, obscene and wet, pulling the skin between his lips, and Jesse sobs, fucking up, trying to get his dick into that warm, filthy mouth and let him suckle like it’s a candy.

Instead, Hanzo pulls back and moves his hand, finally. It feels like he wants to jerk him, fist so tight it is just this side of painful. Jesse heaves a sigh of relief, but when nothing more happens, he glances down again.

Hanzo has pushed all that loose skin upward, making it slip across the fat tip once more and showing off just how much Jesse is sporting. It looks… obscene. Ridiculous. He whimpers “H-Hanzo…” but Hanzo is staring at it like he is having an epiphany.

At least the other man’s face is just as red and hot looking as he feels himself. Hanzo glances up at him, looking shy for the first time as he carefully tongues at the loose slip of skin, sucks it into his mouth, then lets it slip out obscene and wet.

“I want to fuck it.”

“Y-You… what?”

“I think I can fuck your foreskin… do you want to try?”

They stare at each other, both weirdly shy, and Jesse chokes, looks away, slaps a hand across his face again. He groans, then croaks out: “...go for it… fuck.”

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