Patreon Compilation – Fic#264 – Hanzo/Cassidy – undead Cassidy skin; zombie-like Cassidy; voyeurism; no sad fic – Kick In The Head (Patreon)

Hanzo/Cassidy – Cassidy was dead for a bit. Mercy revived him but he's a little... different now. (no sad fic)

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Hanzo doesn’t want to tremble as he steps into the makeshift medical tent that Mercy has put up at the very edges of their combat zone, but his hands haven’t quite gotten the memo.

This time it simply was too close. Angela had warned him that she might have gotten to Cole a little too late. His first reaction had been to feel impossibly sick to his stomach.

He is prepared to see Cassidy lying on the bed, eyes open but unseeing – but what he steps into is his husband standing upright as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn’t been dead two hours prior.

He turns around, probably in response to a small, choked sound Hanzo is making. His skin is deadly pale, as is his hair. Like his temporary death had sucked all the color out of his body.

Hanzo doesn’t care. He is too overjoyed at Cole still being there to care about what he might look like now. The air rushes out of his lungs on a trembling exhale. He takes one step forward, his knees not quite feeling right – but Cole is already rushing toward him, an odd sensation on his face.

.oOo.

Sweat keeps dripping into Hanzo’s eyes. He tries to blink it away, throw his head in a manner that will give him a bit of reprieve from the incessant, burning droplets; but he can barely move as is, what with his toes not quite reaching the ground as his husband fucks him again.

Cole hasn’t said a word beyond the odd grunt but his intention is quite clear anyway. It has been clear from the very beginning as he grabbed Hanzo and pulled him in to not only thrust his tongue deep down his husband’s throat but also push his mechanical hand down the back of Hanzo’s pants, those warm metal fingers unerringly finding his hole to press against it with single-minded intent.

Hanzo wonders if it is Cole’s mute horniness had been what Mercy meant when she said she got to him too late. He doesn’t think so; not entirely at least. There is no way she could have anticipated that Cole would use his husband’s holes like he hadn’t gotten a taste of them for years.

Hanzo has lost count of how often his husband has slipped back into his pussy in the last few hours. He is absolutely exhausted, arms shaking like leafs when Cole makes him brace himself on one of the cots while standing next to it. He is tall enough that when he grabs Hanzo by the hips to lift them into the perfect position, his feet are no longer on the ground.

Hanzo is a hole for him. Wet and warm and silky around his oddly cool erection. Where Cole had been a burning furnace before, his skin is now clammy, barely warming up with the friction of their bodies rubbing against each other.

He pumps out thick ribbons of cum but they too feel cold inside Hanzo’s body; an oddly comforting cooling sensation inside his guts as they burn up from getting used.

He is half certain that Angela came in some time ago, maybe to check in on them, only to quickly stumble back out.

How long have they been in here? How long has his husband been dicking him with single-minded intent? Hanzo’s arms tremble from the strain, then finally give way. His sweaty cheek rubbing against the rough fabric of the cot, he can only think about his husband’s cock piledriving into his gut and stirring his cum up into a froth.

Every sharp hipped thrust is accentuated by Cassidy’s heavy breeder balls slapping against Hanzo, which is nothing new to him but… God, that silence. Hanzo is used to Cole talking his ear off while they fuck; praising and spewing filth in equal measures. Incessantly talking about how much he loves Hanzo’s cunt and how he wants to crawl into him dick first.

Now he’s quiet. Just grunts. Just low animal grunts that are so raw and real that it feels like they scrape just against some nerves Hanzo hadn’t even known he had.

Maybe it is this odd not-quite-quiet that gets him to start talking himself. He usually never does; not really; but now he finds himself babbling, his voice breaking every now and then as Cole unerringly thrusts back into him deep enough to make Hanzo see stars.

“Cole! C-Cole… fuck- we need to… they are certainly waiting-”

From just outside the thin skin of the tent wall, Morrison’s growling voice suddenly pipes up: “Oh we are certainly waiting. By all means; get it out of your system. We don’t have anywhere else to be.”

Hanzo groans, turning his face into the rough fabric of the mattress. Cole groans too. More a grunt. Low and piggish and coinciding with a sharper thrust that Hanzo feels up into the back of his goddamn throat.

His husband has never been a stud with the most… finesse, but this? He is piledriving into him with that big fat cock of his like he wants to ram it right through his bellybutton. It is brutal and animalistic and Hanzo both feels a bit nauseous from the sheer force with which he is getting fucked, as well as weepy from how desperately he wants to cum on this big brute’s dick.

He feels Cole’s mechanical arm curl around his belly but can’t quite fathom what he is doing until he is upright in the air and getting bounced on dick. Hanzo has no idea how Cole did it, but his arms are now hooked beneath his knees, using him like a cheap hooker to pump him up and down his swollen, throbbing shaft.

It feels as if death has only managed to make his husband’s cock even larger. Or maybe it simply feels that way because of the odd cold that he is exuding. It’s like getting fucked by an ice pick; one that has pulsing, juicy veins curling along its shaft, pumping nice and strong like the heart in Cassidy’s chest.

The one he can feel against his shoulder blades as he scrabbles to find purchase around his husband’s neck.

Not that Cole is waiting for him to adjust properly; he just keeps fucking. And fucking. And fucking. He dicks him like a machine; just a single-minded intent as if he had thought of fucking his husband one last time before dying and that one notion is still stuck inside his undead head.

Hanzo can’t help but feel… well… flattered. He loves Cole, after all. He loves his meaty cock that always feels like this time it will be just too big for him to take. He loves how he crams it into him without any finesse and still somehow manages to fuck Hanzo into orgasm within the first few minutes without a damn fault.

Okay, maybe Hanzo is more so in love with Cassidy’s cock than Cassidy himself – although he does love him – but this is utterly ridiculous. This… this zombie husband he has gotten back, whose only function in life seems to be to try and drag Hanzo’s insides out with his dick.

Try and fuck him so long and so hard, he can’t help but prolapse for him.

He can feel his insides clinging like wet silk to Cassidy’s dick. He can feel how his body just instinctively molds around him, trying to keep him nice and snug inside.

He just feels so empty whenever Cole lifts him up so far that only his rim is mouthing desperately around the swollen head of his husband’s cock. Luckily Cole does not seem to have enough brain cells at this moment to actually fuck around with Hanzo. He just keeps pumping him along his cock, low, guttural grunts spilling out from him right next to Hanzo’s ears. It’s so close to what Cole usually sounds like that he could just close his eyes and imagine that it is a dicking like any other that he’s receiving from his husband. That he’s just spreading his legs and letting Cole work like a tractor with a barely functioning motor. Ram into him over and over again until Hanzo sees stars and his muscles turn into hot goo.

Somehow, they’ll find a way to help Cole back into his old self. Somehow…

But even if they didn’t… Hanzo would have a perfect husband anyway. One who can’t think of anything else but to crawl into him dick first; to fuck him over and over and over again until Hanzo is an oversensitive mess and his rim a swollen, bright red rosebud.

“Come to an end, will you?!” Morrison’s voice barks suddenly. He is apparently sick of waiting and listening in on Hanzo getting fucked silly by his zombie husband.

He’s in luck because Hanzo is coming; hard and long, muscles cramping from an orgasm crawling through his body like a wildfire; cock jerking and pumping out his cum in a few long streaks splashing across the field hospital bed he’s getting fucked over.

Behind him, he can feel the rumbling grunt more than he can hear it, moments before Cole pumps him full yet again with his cold, sticky goo.

Fuck. Hanzo really didn’t expect today to end like this.