Drumroll
Hanzo spared no sympathy in throwing Jesse onto the couch in their room and pinning him there with his mouth, tonguing the gunslinger's exposed chest.
How long had it been? Ten? Fifteen? Twenty years of celibacy, broken by this pestilent cowboy with the laugh like the crackle of a campfire, a smile like the moon, and freckles like the stars.
He was going to pay for braking Hanzo's streak, for making him forget his self control and betray every bit of reason he had.
He let out a beautiful moan when Hanzo ran his tongue over his nipple, so he repeated the motion, but slower, harsher. The moan repeated itself, louder, and Hanzo began circling it, pressing the nub with every movement.
"H-Hanzo," McCree gasped, shuddering, "Fuck."
Hanzo moved further up, straddling McCree's hips and pinning them to the bed so he could grab the cowman's chin, deceptively gentle. He leaned in until their lips were almost touching so he could see McCree's face, flushed with red. He was a hot mess, cheeks colored, breath coming out ragged.
"Beautiful," he growled, and kissed him again. McCree opened his mouth to him, letting Hanzo slip his tongue in. He teased it in and out, tracing Jesse's lips.
He broke off only to allow his cowboy to breathe. He was sprawled out, chest heaving, and to Hanzo's surprise, he looked nervous. He never took Jesse for a virgin, but he supposed it was a possibility he should have anticipated.
"Darlin'," McCree huffed, "I ain't... I never been... I never done it like this before," he said, suddenly choked up, and Hanzo felt his heart wrench. Of course a cowboy had never been taken to bed by another man. He would have always done the taking.
Hanzo left a gentle kiss at the corner of his mouth. "Do you want me to stop?"
Jesse shook his head like a madman.
"No, but... Aw, hell." McCree shifted his hips upwards in the ghost of a thrust, and he bit his lip. Hanzo could feel his length hard against the crotch of his jeans.
"I will be gentle," Hanzo promised quietly, nothing but a whisper in the other man's ear, and he felt McCree shudder again.
"Yeah," he agreed breathlessly, "That's good. Great."
Hanzo chuckled deeply and pressed his lips to the place where McCree's ear joined his jaw, moving his hands down to rub his thighs while he rutted their hips together. Slowly, he reminded himself. Gently.
McCree hummed as he nibbled at the stubble on his neck, and Hanzo began undoing his belt. He made an art of removing the unholy little thing- Really? Bamf?- as he moved back to McCree's mouth.
His pants came off easily, and McCree thanked him by running his fingers through Hanzo's silky hair, although it was slick with rain water.
Hanzo's clothes were less complicated. All he had to do was pull a string and he could shrug his casual robe off, leaving him in his underwear. His member made itself known against the cotton, so he rutted gently against McCree again, mimicking the movements of a thrust as he rubbed over Jesse's groin.
Jesse let an approving moan slip into Hanzo's mouth, and he broke away, panting.
"Are you ready, cowboy?" he murmured, and Jesse whimpered- god help him, Jesse whimpered- in response, nodding his head slowly.
With one last kiss to McCree's jaw, Hanzo got off the couch and began tearing the room apart for some kind of lube. Lotion. Anything, really.
"Han," Jesse said, interrupting his rummaging through the kitchen drawers. "The cabinet in the bathroom," he panted, regaining breath now that Hanzo wasn't attacking him with affection. He motioned into the hallways beyond their room. "Down the hall."
Hanzo would usually be appalled that Jesse had suggested that he go into the hall under such circumstances. But that Hanzo wasn't hard as a rock with an equally-hard McCree lying in his room waiting for him, so Hanzo spun a blanket around his waist and made a fucking run for it.
Luckily, "down the hall" literally meant ten feet away from their door.
He threw open the cabinets, revealing an assortment of ointments and pills and- Thank the heavens for Jesse McCree, there was a bottle of lube. He snatched it and started to go out of the bathroom, only to stop when he flung the door open and found Jamison standing there, hand raised like he was about to knock.
Hanzo froze up. There he was in nothing but a blanket-skirt holding a bottle of lube. A million useless excuses flew through his head as he tried to think of what to say.
"You done, mate?" Jamison asked, looking bemused.
"Um," Hanzo replied, blinking at him, "Yes."
"Olright, then get the hell outta the dunny," Junkrat said.
Hanzo assumed a "dunny" was a bathroom and hurried away, face red that he hadn't even thought to hide the lube behind his back. Still, when he closed the door to their apartment and turned around, it was hard to stay focused on that minor inconvenience. McCree was more comfortably situated on the couch, lying on his back with his spine arched. His hair was sloppy, his cheeks red, his freckles shining in the glaze of sweat he had built up. His hips raised, Jesse gave Hanzo a lustful look as he impatiently rubbed his thigh with one hand.
"Holy hell, Han," he sighed, "Anyone ever tell ya you look like a goddamn dream with yer hair down?"
Hanzo swallowed hard, and remembered why he was in a hurry. He made his way over and straddled McCree's thighs again, pushing the incident out of his mind as he went back to working the gunslinger's nipples with his mouth.
McCree whined softly, lifting his hips so that Hanzo could rub his length back and forth over his entrance.
"Beautiful," Hanzo murmured for the second time. "Are you enjoying yourself, Jesse?" He asked, holding Jesse's face in his hands. Like he even needed to ask when McCree was panting again and giving him little moans of satisfaction. "Do you want me to fuck you?"
Jesse gasped as he tweaked one of his nipples between his fingers. "Mhmm," he moaned, and Hanzo mimicked the sound. He could just imagine how the taller man felt inside. But enough of that. He didn't need to imagine anything.
Hanzo squeezed a bit of lube onto his fingers and pressed one to Jesse's hole. The gunslinger shuddered in response, hands tugging at Hanzo's hair again.
"Shhh," Hanzo sighed into his ear. "I have you, Jesse."
Slowly, he worked his finger inside, moving in and out until Jesse felt loose enough for another finger. His length was hard with anticipation, but he knew better. He had to be slow. He inserted another, and then one more, until Jesse was nice and loose.
He murmured a meaningless noise of satisfaction into Jesse's neck, and left a soft kiss at the corner of his mouth as he pulled his fingers out to add more lube for good measure.
Then, he leaned in to let his teeth graze his collar bone as he slowly slid in.
Jesse groaned, and it sounded painful, but when Hanzo stopped, his grip on his hair tightened.
"Don't stop now, sugar," Jesse gasped, and Hanzo left another kiss on his cheek.
He pushed the rest of himself in and Jesse let out a breath.
He began slow, and gentle so that with every thrust, Jesse's hips rocked a little.
The cowboy's hands moved down so they grappled the back of Hanzo's neck.
"[Such a beautiful man,]" Hanzo remarked. "Your smile gives me life. Did you know that?"
He picked up the pace, hips urging him to move faster, to feel more of McCree squeezing and bobbing on his length.
"[Neither the sun nor moon can compare.]"
Jesse hummed impatiently, so he threw his hips forward, replacing that hum with a short whimper.
"Your face right now will haunt my dreams when I try to tell myself we can't be intimate."
Hanzo was breathing heavily, and he knew he was getting close, because speaking was getting difficult.
"[All I want to see-,]" he said through his own quiet groans, "All I want to see when I wake- is your beautiful face. For the rest of my life."
That was the end of him murmuring Japanese into McCree's ear. He would continue another time when he couldn't feel himself growing near to climaxing inside of him.
Hanzo thrusted harder, faster, deeper. He felt sensations like electricity pulse through his length with every movement, sending shockwaves through his body until he wondered how he was still standing. He saw stars, and lost control of his pacing, now only desperate for more. More touch, more contact.
His hips rutted forward harshly, gentle be damned. Every merciless plunge into Jesse was met with another desperate gasp. The only thing in the universe that mattered was the repetitive sound of Hanzo pushing into Jesse in a series of smacks and groans and gasps.
Jesse let out a gorgeous breath that caught in his throat when he finally came, spilling white onto his stomach, and that noise carried Hanzo over the edge. He pressed his face into Jesse's neck with one last thrust, so hard that it buried him, and the warmth of his own cum bled out of him into McCree. He let out a harsh, ragged breath, forcing himself not to collapse on the cowboy, who was still panting and trying to regain himself.
Hanzo sat up and mopped the mess on Jesse's stomach with the blanket he had used as a skirt earlier, then pulled out, leaving a thin dribble. The couch creaked a little as he rolled over and he pressed his lips to the back of McCree's neck, pulling him close to his chest. He was sweaty, but that was fine.
Hanzo would have room to care tomorrow.