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I Wanna Do Bad Things With You

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He loved his job for two reasons.

 

First, he could barely hear himself think when he was wielding a jackhammer. On a site, he could completely shut his mind down and follow the plan.

 

If sometimes the plan was followed before the order was given, he tried to forget it came from his parlor trick until it was time to get home and open a cold beer to drink in front of the television.

 

However, sometimes he just couldn’t help: people had to drag him to get a drink after work and sometimes, Jesse McCree felt lonely enough to follow them.

 

It helped that the guys liked to discover new things, like that restaurant which had an amateur square dancing competition. McCree had won. Best day of his life.

 

It had been overwhelming, though, all these thoughts directed at him, he couldn’t shield himself from the onslaught. It helped they were compliments about how synchronised he was with the other contestants whom he barely knew.

 

McCree avoided all the people who told him he could go pro and win more than a medal and free steak. He had been cheating anyway.

 

Still, it was nice once in awhile to go to that restaurant with his adoptive mother back in the day.

 

Damn, he missed the old woman more everyday and couldn’t fault his step sister for running away as soon as she was able when she was in age to go to college.

 

McCree took a deep breath at the back of the truck. The air was chilly for this side of the States, even for November.

 

“Come, McCree! We have arrived!” Zarya exclaimed, slapping his thigh good naturedly.

 

Such a lazy bum! He should workout more… He seems lonely though, this outing is going to do him good, it can’t be healthy to…

 

McCree took a deep breath and lifted his lazy bum from his seat in the truck, following the athletic woman and their other colleagues into a restaurant he knew.

 

It was Reyes’ idea of a joke to call his restaurant Tejano in the middle of New Mexico. Still, the tall Mexican-American veteran cooked the best tacos and would sometimes treat the construction workers of Española with his grandmother’s secret special Chicken Mole recipe.

 

And sure thing, McCree was there, with a smile on his face and a shot of whiskey offered by Zarya that he didn’t dare touch more than to move from left to right. Last thing he needed was lose himself in the middle of a crowd and react to whatever random thought passed his head.

 

Still, he was having fun. Zarya was talking about her new girlfriend. He was interested because, despite living in a somehow big town, near the city of Santa Fe, McCree had yet to meet one. Lady Mei-Ling Zhou would be the first, if Zarya was indeed not shitting them about inviting her to the evening’s outing.

The amateur weightlifter was still waxing poetic about her new girlfriend when suddenly, the group that was sitting behind them started giggling loudly.

 

McCree rolled his eyes. Jamie Fawkes and Mako Rutledge worked at the gas station he usually filled his tank at. He had always thought them dodgy and, in Fawkes’ case, a bit mad, but harmless.

 

“Fangbanger.” the lanky blonde man, Jamie, coughed into what appeared to be his fourth or fifth pint of beer.

 

McCree’s brows furrowed and the sudden anger radiating from Zarya caught him off guard.

 

Filthy fangbanger slut, cavorting with a vampire, just to get her pussy licked, that’s not human even if it’d be hot to watch, but damn, no chance, I’m not getting bitten…

 

Fucking loser couldn’t even get laid if he wanted to, Mei is nice and sweet, she’s nothing like the monsters who killed my parents, she’s only done nothing but help me… 

 

Oh gosh, I mean I agree it’s gross to sleep with a vampire and feed them, but to her face? Man, even I wouldn’t be so rude to her face, especially because her arms and my thighs are the same size…

 

Good thing she’s getting called on her bullshit, fangbanger slut…

 

McCree wanted to turn around and tell Jamie to can it and respect ladies, living and dead, but between the conversation being carried out loud and the raging thoughts getting meaner and meaner in their heads and his , he could only watch, slack jawed as Zarya was being held back by old Reinhardt and Fawkes by Rutledge.

 

“Come on, McCree, don’t tell me you don’t agree with us.” Jamie shouted his way at some point. “You’re from here just like us, mate, you gotta find those vamp whores as disgusting as us, right?”

 

McCree looked at Jamie without seeing him.

 

It had been a bad idea. Already, he was drowning. He would give anything to be on his couch in his living room, enjoying a beer on his own and yet, he found it extremely frustrating to not be allowed to socialise as he used to. To not be able to defuse such a situation with a joke as he used to.

 

“Look… Jamie, no… You insulted Zarya… I mean, whoever said they would have the decency not to say it to her face or talk to her is more in the right than you…” he rambled before he remembered that this was a thought, not speech.

 

“Nobody said that, McFreak .” Rutledge grunted, his grip on Fawkes tightening. Right, McCree remembered as he saw Rutledge and his black painted nails and hair dyed white smoke under the bleachers in school all over again.

 

“Look, I'm all out of beer. I need a refill.” McCree grunted in turn, grabbing his full glass of whiskey.

 

Every eye in the bar was still trained on him. Some voices he knew since kindergarten, some he didn’t know at all. All of them full of incompréhension or anger or even flat out stupidity.

I can’t believe this is Jesse McCree, he used to be so cute, so confident…

 

Damn, pretty sure this pretty eye candy has a vamp waiting for his blood in his bed already, fucking whore…

 

He looks so miserable, he was never like this in highschool, I remember he was best friends with my son and that other little girl, wasn’t she his step-sister?

 

I bet that’s how they left him to rot as soon as they could fly away. Come on, stringing along such a loser, heard he had been going from family to family before he ended up in their home… He was such a scrawny little devil…

 

He invoked thoughts of Ana. She had never thought ill of him in the thirty odd years she had been raising him. Might as well have called her yemma too, for how the three of them had loved each other. No matter what they thought, he knew that was not true. Ana and Fareeha Amari had not fled little old him.

 

McCree couldn’t believe he had managed to reach the bar unscathed. Once there, he actually downed the whiskey Zarya had offered. At this point, he might as well give himself an excuse to lash out at them. He had just set the empty glass on the counter and another full one was already replacing it.

 

“They’re calming down a bit.” Reyes said, his thoughts a jumble of worried grunts.

 

That’s what he thought. McCree did not voice his own mind out loud like that. He just took the glass of whiskey and chugged it even faster than the first one.

 

“I shouldn’t have come.” he rasped through the burn of the alcohol. He wished Reyes allowed smoking in his restaurant.

 

“Have to live a little, sometimes. I’ll make sure those people pay extra for what scene they just caused.” Reyes grunted.

 

McCree could feel the dark skinned man’s thoughts when looking at Zarya. He was equally worried for her than for him. If McCree was the prying sort, he’d ask who Jack was. Instead, he just turned his head to the side, knowing lack of eye contact with any folk could sometimes help.

 

He didn’t expect to see a man sitting there.

 

McCree could have sworn the seats on his right were empty and yet, four stools away, sat a man with long dark hair, greying at the temples, gathered into a high ponytail adorned with a brilliant yellow sash. It contrasted with his pale skin. McCree couldn’t help but stare at the man, his cheekbones were razors and yet, he would gladly cut himself on them. Beneath a leather jacket, he could guess powerful muscles flexed as the man’s fingers clenched and gathered into fists.

 

Had he heard the earlier commotion? What did he think of it? For the first time in his life, McCree looked for the answer in the man’s mind and found nothing .

 

Just that, nothing.

 

How easy it was to focus on this lonely man on a stool. How easy it was to forget everything around. No more thoughts, just silence. Blissful silence.

 

“Hey, mijo.” Reyes called, making McCree jump. “If you wanna chat that boy up, you could start by buying him a drink.”

 

“Right.” McCree acknowledged absently.

 

He grabbed the hot bottle provided and his third whiskey in less than fifteen minutes (an hour? He felt he had been staring at the man for more).

 

McCree wasn’t silent. In fact, his steps toward the pale man made a deafening sound that threatened to split the earth beneath his feet. When he was finally near, the man turned his head. His eyes were glassy and piercing at the same time. McCree didn’t have to look at the brand of the hot bottle in his hand to find out its contents.

 

Fearing he would tear the fragile moment with the barest sound, he simply deposited the bottle in front of the man. The brand was not the brand he knew from TV ad and it read “Bee Pos” with an over the top smiling pin up with two red dots on her neck. It seemed extremely cheesy marketing to McCree. The man-- vampire--  reached for the bottle and lifted it. McCree raised his glass of whiskey and the glass against plastic made a sound that made him smile. The vampire smiled in turn, the small smile of a shy girl confessing her crush when he was in middle school.

 

Well, McCree thought, this time he wouldn’t say no, he guessed when he watched the man’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed the synthetic blood.

 

“Does it even taste like the real deal?” McCree couldn’t help but ask. He immediately regretted the question. It sounded like the people who would ask Ana if she didn’t feel too hot under her hijab. The man was as nice as his adopted mother, though.

 

“Absolutely not.” he answered, his voice slightly tensed by a foreign accent. “Especially cold. I arrived not long ago and have had trouble getting the power back up. Microwaved synthetic blood tastes like iron and cold synthetic blood tastes like paint.” the vampire smirked.

 

“Judging by the taste of my own microwave dinners, I’d say I don’t envy y’all.” McCree smiled in turn. He stared at the other man’s smile. A hint of white showed between the dark lips. He couldn’t see any fangs and he reigned another stupid question about where they were, and how they were stored. He had to stifle another embarrassing line of questioning about they would feel if they ever were to sink in his own neck.

 

Flustered and feeling strangely aroused by the cold, silent body next to him, he considered his glass of whiskey.

Bottoms up, McCree turned to the vampire again.

 

“You know… I might be able to help about your electricity problem. I work with a construction company. I could look at your installation and maybe put in a good word with someone in charge if it’s beyond my skills.”

 

“It actually might.” the man said. His voice oozed sincerity and genuine gratitude. It really threw McCree off to not feel it directly. Having to rely on voice was harder than he thought.

 

“I had previously been given this house by… a vampire friend.” he explained. “However, before last summer, we did not exactly need a microwave and, my friend being extremely old, he didn’t own many appliances such as a television… or video game consoles.” he added with an amused scoff.

 

McCree couldn’t help but smile, too. “Let me guess, electricity company can’t be bothered with hooking an old house to the grid, heh?” he told him.

 

“Indeed. It reminds me of…” the vampire started. But he interrupted himself in the middle of his sentence. “Nevermind, you wouldn’t understand.”

 

“Please, do tell. I’ll probably learn something. My… my mother said a day was always wasted if you couldn’t go to sleep having learned a new lesson.” McCree stuttered.

 

I need to know this man.

 

“I am… embarrassed to say that I am quite young by my people’s standards.” he finally explained. McCree expected a blush, but it did not come. “When I was a young man, I took up arms in a conflict. I don’t expect you to have heard of it. It was called the Satsuma rebellion. My mortal father had worked against my conscription, leading to delays in the arrival of my uniform and weapons. Finally, the uniform arrived, as well as the sword, but no rifle was provided to me on the time the battle started.” he confessed. At least, McCree felt it was like a confession.

 

“Why didn’t your father want you to take up arms? Was he worried?” McCree asked.

 

“Not at all.” the man answered bluntly, seemingly reigning in some kind of condescending tone. “He was simply supporting the old ways that Saigou, their leader, wanted to uphold. The idea that I would fight in a cloth uniform with a rifle instead of toe to toe in a bogu with proper katana irked him. He used all the money he had left from our dwindling finances to generously bribe whoever he could, ironically.”

 

McCree’s face must have shown some confusion because the man seemed compelled to add, “Saigou’s main argument for his rebellion was the corruption and decadence of the new government. This is where lies the irony I was talking about.”

 

McCree smiled and nodded to show understanding. “I actually can sort of understand that story…” he told the vampire, thinking of his own folks, the ones he lived with before ending up with the Amari.

 

“I am glad that you will go to your bed wiser.” the vampire answered in turn.

 

It was fascinating to see the vampire take a deep breath because it seemed impossible. McCree wondered if it was just a hard to shake habit, maybe a clue about him being young (for a vampire)?

 

“I must take my leave as I have many things to deal with before sun up.” the man told McCree. “Thank you for the drink.”

 

“And thank you for the conversation.” McCree told the man. “It would be great if we could have another… You know… Go to bed wiser and all that.” he stuttered, losing track of what he actually wanted to ask. The vampire laughed and suddenly McCree felt it. The tug in his chest. He was really, really attracted to that guy. Maybe enough to…

 

McCree rose at the same time as he, the laughter contagious, yelling to Reyes to put it all on his tab. Reyes only winked as both vampire and human left the restaurant.

 

He didn’t realise it was this late, both the establishment and the parking lot was empty when McCree located the truck. Zarya had her girlfriend to pick her up and had already told him earlier that he could use the truck to go home. This was further confirmed by a text.

 

“Are you in need of a ride?” McCree asked the vampire. “By the way, I didn’t quite catch your name back there.”

 

The vampire, still smiling, said, “I do not require driving. I came here on foot.”

 

“Oh, you live close then.”

 

“In La Mesilla.”

 

McCree dropped the keys he had fished from his coat pocket.

 

“That’s…  a… the whole other side of town.” he remarked.

 

“Yes.” the vampire said. “However, it was not a long walk. I would say a vampire would walk this distance in the same time a safe driver would take to drive it.”

 

“You walk at eighty miles per hour?” McCree repeated.

 

“Well, some vampires are slower, some are faster. To be honest, it is a curious state, not quite a walk.” the man explained. “Not quite a run… I know someone who can fly. I never quite managed it myself, I always land face first on the ground and healing broken bones is as painful as the initial fall, so I figured I would learn to sing first.”

 

McCree didn’t dare say anything, lest he sound stupid.

 

“Wow… I guess that’s where we part ways. Unless you’d like to run alongside the truck and keep me company.” he managed to say, changing the subject slightly. “I’m going that way, but I’ll…”

 

One second McCree’s eyes were on the vampire and his kind (it seemed kind) smile, the next he was whipped on the tip of the nose by something metallic and he heard a grunt and a laugh.

 

Come here, dead meat.

 

McCree’s stomach threatened to upturn when he saw the gleaming hook, stained red,traversing the vampire’s throat. Judging from his expression, it hurt. A hissing sound made McCree’s ears burn.

 

“Come on, Roadie! You missed him! You had better aim with the last one!”

 

“I didn’t want to hurt McCree.”

 

“Who cares, even if he’s a virgin for now, I’m sure he wanted to bang the vamp. It must count, right…”

 

McCree turned his head. Fawkes, his hood down, revealing his dirty blonde hair, was playing with a long wooden stick sharpened to a point, twirling it between his fingers and launching it in the air like a baton.

 

“What are you doing?” he snarled at the men.

 

“Ridding you of this trash.” Fawkes nonchalantly said. “In fact, it’s best you didn’t decapitate it right away, you’d have covered McCree in his filthy blood.”

 

Fucking fangbanger… Well, not yet, Mako’s right about that. Also, Jesse McCree, as freaky as he is, he’s human and he’d be missed, don’t want to go to jail for McLooser…

 

Feeling a pressure in his chest, McCree took a deep breath and suddenly it was as if the chilly night had fled under the sheer strength of the high noon sun.His fingers itched, but he waited until he could see the whites in both sets of eyes before he let it go.

 

“Don’t call me McLooser ever again.” he whispered.He blinked. Beneath his eyelids, he saw white. Their fear fed the light.

 

When he opened his eyes, Mako Rutledge and Jamison Fawkes were on the ground, covering their heads and crying for dear mother. A wet gurgle helped McCree triage. He turned around, wondering for a second exactly when he had taken so many steps forward that the vampire was now behind him, and kneeled next to the prone, panting figure fighting against a silver meat hook seemingly burning through his throat.

 

“Hmm… you’re already dead, so I’m pretty sure it’s gonna be alright if I move this away and let you… Do your vampire thing.” McCree started, reaching for the hook and trying to ascertain how to remove it while causing only a minimum amount of damage.

 

What he heard Fawkes say about decapitation was still freshly branded in his mind.

 

It was hard. McCree had to nick the jugular, though, eliciting a spasm and making the dark blood ooze and flow. He let the heavy silver hook clatter to the groundfloor and reached for the vampire’s throat again, trying unsuccessfully to staunch the cascade of dark and sticky liquid.

 

“I… What should I do?” McCree asked when he saw the wound trying to close under his hands repeatedly, but failing.

 

The vampire’s eyes were panicked. He was licking his bloodstained fingers. However, it seemed to be no use because he was wheezing, as if his vocal cords had somehow managed to repair themselves but not all the way.

 

“Blood.” he hissed. “I’m… losing too… much blood…”

 

McCree tried to think fast, he tried, but all he could feel was helplessness and the pain of the two assholes behind him. The vampire reverted to gibberish soon enough, his een yoy repeated over and over until his eyes started to close, his skin translucent, his fangs bared with a crack as he lost control of himself.

 

No, he heard the familiar voice of reason in his mind, and yet, here he was, Jesse McCree scratching his own wrist against the sharp fangs and letting his own damn blood drip into the mouth of a vampire. This is surreal , he thought as he saw the grave wound finally closed as the vampire regained consciousness and his ability to heal. Feeling drowsy, McCree, not knowing was to do, squirmed and was relieved to feel the man’s mouth audibly unplug from the wound at his wrist.The vampire turned to face McCree.

 

“I cannot thank you enough for saving my life.” he said.

 

His skin was no longer translucent or pale. In fact, he looked full of life, the wrinkles at his eyes looking less sharp. He looked human, even, as if McCree’s blood had been a pocket Fountain of Youth.

 

“It’s alright.” McCree said. “Willingly given and everything. I won’t lie and say any decent folk would have done it, but…”As he rose to his feet, knees wobbly, the man caught him in his arms. McCree smiled. He liked himself a pair of strong caring arms, alright.

 

“Please, allow me to return your gift to you.” the man said, baring his fangs once more.

 

McCree didn’t even flinch, not because of his dizziness, but because somehow, in these arms, he felt safe. The man punctured his own thumb and rubbed the small trickle of blood on McCree’s injured wrist. The man watched, amazed, as it closed as if he had just erased a particularly ugly pencil sketch. The pain ebbed away, soothed by the slow circles. After what looked like a second of hesitation, the bloodied finger was brought to McCree’s face, barely touching his lips and making them wet with their mixed blood. McCree licked them, feeling the metallic tang on his tongue.

 

“You… you are something, Makkuri-san.” the vampire said. His eyes, his shining brown eyes, so full of life where before they had been glassy and sad, bored into McCree’s.

 

“Just your average hick in a cowboy hat.” McCree countered.

 

Even his lips had taken a more rosy color. He wanted to kiss them.

 

“Let me drive you home while you recover.” the man said. “I’m afraid in my state, I might have drunk slightly more than was needed.”

 

“What about them.” McCree asked, nodding at the two men still holding their eyes.

 

It burns.

 

Freak.

 

Not human.

 

Can’t see...

 

So much light...

 

He blinked. In a second the vampire had loaded the hook in the truck and was back to holding hands like he had not just moved at a speed that made McCree’s hat move on his head.

 

“I will go to the police after you are safe at home with the evidence in the truck. Don’t worry, nothing is stained and I will leave your involvement out of my version of the events as best as I can.” the vampire stated as if he was talking about the weather.

 

McCree had often wished to be swept off his feet by a man when he had been a more na ï ve boy.

 

He could now strike it off his bucket list as the vampire carefully led him to the truck’s passenger seat, asked for the GPS coordinates, and started the engine.

 

“Hmm… I know I just saved your life and you’ve only been nice, but…” McCree started.

 

“My name is Hanzo.” the vampire interrupted him.

 

“Nice to meet you Hanzo. You know my address now when we only met a few hours ago.” McCree chuckled.

 

And yet, he felt safe.

 

“You don’t have to worry about me as long as you run to your door and keep within the four walls of your house.” Hanzo answered. “Vampires cannot cross the threshold of a mortal home without an explicit invitation spoken aloud.”

 

“No… Really?” McCree asked, surprised.

 

“Unless we want to vomit blood for hours for the more resistant and oldest of us, or be expelled in the opposite direction and possibly land on something uncomfortable.” Hanzo explained.

 

“Well… Extra wisdom for me to sleep upon, I guess.” McCree said.

 

They arrived in Santa Clara soon enough. Hanzo opened the car’s door for McCree and relieved the truck of its bloody cargo.

 

“You don’t wanna come in?” McCree asked as he saw Hanzo shift the hook within his arms.

 

“I wouldn’t want to intrude and you need rest.” the vampire argued.

 

“Hanzo, you are hereby invited into my house, don’t waste this opportunity. We’ll just hide the hook in the basement.” McCree said.

 

Hanzo’s eyes glimmered and his tongue passed over his lips as if to wet them.

 

McCree felt rather confused by how arousing it felt.

 

The hook safely stored in the basement, McCree offered Hanzo to sit on the couch beside him and watch TV. He felt giddy. Instead of a beer, he had taken a can of easy cheese and a pack of bread to fill him better after the ordeal. The best meal to eat in front of a Law and Order rerun with a seemingly slightly confused vampire.It felt so good that McCree fell asleep on the couch, on the man’s shoulder and when he woke up from being carefully tucked into his bed, he relished in the sweet press of the vampire’s lips on his brow.

*

**

*

 

When McCree woke up, Hanzo the vampire was lying next to him, above the covers. He had removed his leather jacket and was looking at McCree with a gaze that made him shiver in anticipation.

 

Hanzo’s body was as ripped as he had expected underneath the jacket he had worn earlier. He was shirtless, revealing an impressive tattoo of a swirling blue dragon. The heat pooled between McCree’s thighs and his blood rushed to feed his erection at the sight of the deliciously defined pectorals. McCree wanted to touch them, feel the pebble of the man’s nipple beneath his fingers. Petrified, he had trouble following on the thought.

 

Vampire. Don’t…

 

Hanzo shifted, coming close.

 

“I am sorry, did I wake you?” he asked, his voice confident, one that made McCree’s lips dry. He instinctively wet them with the tip of his tongue.

 

“Yes, but… It’s alright if I can wake up next to you.” McCree said, even if what he really thought had been Yes, but what are you doing in my bed already?

 

“I’m glad you think so, Makkuri-chan.” Hanzo answered, his voice turning sultry and confident. Glancing at his toned bared chest, he remarked out loud, “I seem to have misplaced my shirt.”

 

“It’s no problem.” McCree immediately said without meaning it. “You can have mine.”

 

He slowly sat up on the bed, overly conscious of how he had let himself go on the belt… Well, work kept his arms nice and strong. Yet, he was surprised to see Hanzo’s gaze turn appreciative upon seeing McCree undress. The human was suddenly very aware of the flimsy boxers he wore underneath the covers. He was almost bashful as he thrust the hand holding the flannel shirt toward Hanzo who moved to take it, fingers brushing his. It made McCree jump and gasp as if he had grazed a more sensitive part of him. A part of him that was coming to life below.

 

It seemed he was not alone in this predicament. Hanzo however, looked as confident, and as comfortable as ever. Yet, he made no extra move to take the shirt and pull it on.

 

“You are so…” Hanzo said, his tone starting to thread on intrigued, attractive…

 

Wow… I didn’t expect that…

 

“What are you?” Hanzo asked, interrupting McCree’s thoughts.

 

“I’m just your average hick in a cowboy hat.” McCree answered, shaking his head. What else would he be.

His hand tightened around the shirt at the same time Hanzo’s did.

 

Ii nioi …” the vampire whispered.

 

McCree couldn’t care less about how they had ended up so close, their noses touching, or what the vampire meant in what seemed to be his mother tongue.

 

“We shouldn’t.” Hanzo whispered.

 

“I want to.” McCree answered in kind, his lips crashing onto his.

 

They tasted of ash and mint. What a strange combination. Yet, it was one McCree did not mind as long as his left hand was still strongly encased in Hanzo’s right, the shirt still held aloft between them like a promise.

 

McCree’s other hand moved to finally touch Hanzo’s nipple, eliciting a moan, spurring the human on. Hanzo’s free hand then moved to McCree’s waist, a waist that was mysteriously bare under his fingers, the boxers having magically vanished, like a dream. Hanzo’s hand slithered down his thigh and he sighed in the kiss McCree was giving.

 

“Tell me you want me.” Hanzo asked.

 

“I want you.” McCree growled back, catching the vampire’s lips again, biting them, drawing blood easily.

 

Hanzo’s hand was all over McCree’s cock as soon as the words passed his lips. A very cold hand that made McCree shudder. Each caress of the icy fingers on the human’s painfully erect penis was made more intense by the difference in temperature. The fingers carefully ghosted over his member, softly taking his dangerously tightening balls in hand briefly before going back up all the way.

 

“How do you want to do this?” McCree asked, breathless and hoping to dear god the vampire would fuck him with those fingers.

 

“Save a horse.” Hanzo whispered in his ear. “Ride a cowboy… everybody says.”

 

He let go of McCree’s hand. The shirt fell on the bed.

 

*

**

*

 

… SAVE A HORSE, RIDE A COWBOOOY!

AND I DOOOON’T GIVE A DAAAMN ABOUT NOTHIN…

 

“What!?” McCree yelled, confused by the light of dawn in his eyes and his throbbing boner in yesterday’s pants.

 

I’M THE ONLY JOHN WAYNE LEFT IN THIS TOOOWN!

 

McCree wiggled in his clothes, realising with frustration that he was feeling quite uncomfortable in the crotch area, until he managed to get his cell phone in his pocket.

 

He was pretty surprised to see it was Gabriel Reyes.

 

Now Reyes knew him since he was a kid, but the two had only exchanged numbers for emergencies, like when he had found himself with a gang as a teenager and needed an out. Or when he fucked up and almost lost his left arm right after the Amari high tailed out of Espanola and he was panicked and alone. Reyes like to think himself a father of substitution, but he mostly had his own problems… And plenty of other adopted kids with daddy issues to take care of.

 

“McCree.” McCree grunted, carefully gathering his fingers into a fist before he could scratch the itch in his pants (or rather, his rock hard dick).

 

Is it possible to die from an erotic dream induced erection?

 

“I was scared I had misjudged the vamp, but he wasn’t lying after all…”

 

“Reyes?”

 

“Yes, mijo…

 

“Please less cryptic. My head hurts.” McCree snapped.

 

“Apparently, just before sunup, the vamp you gave drinks to showed up at the police station with a silver hook covered in blood. I don’t even know how he managed to transport it because he barely had any burns according to the sheriff. In fact, he looked pretty hale. Thought you were the reason.”

 

“Hm…” McCree noncommittally grunted.

 

“You’re the reason.”

 

“He was dying in front of me, his throat wouldn’t heal. When I removed the hook, I nicked the jugular... I just panicked…”

 

“Damn… Well, at least you’re alive. You’re lucky, starving vamps have trouble controlling themselves sometimes.” Reyes drawled to hide his relief, but McCree knew he genuinely was.

 

“You know an awful lot of things about vampires, Reyes.” McCree said, disentangling himself from his covers. He was still fully dressed. What a gentleman, he thought with a fond smile.

 

“Well, I have my sources.”

 

McCree took a deep breath. “Gabriel Reyes, the Vampire Humper.” he managed to say without laughing.

 

“You little shit…”

 

“Thanks for calling Reyes, but I need a shower and a coffee. Or ten.” McCree guffawed before hanging up and exploding under the pressure of laughter. This was the weirdest night he had ever spent, and he was glad for it.  As the call window closed, McCree realised his last application opened had been the texting app. He had texted an unknown number.

 

Or rather someone had texted their own number with his phone.

 

I will forget this number if you don’t ever text me, but please do keep in touch.

 

McCree’s stomach tied itself into a too recognisable knot. Flashes of the extremely vivid dream he just had made him consider typing an answer, but at the last moment he decided he should wait.

 

At least until he had cleaned all the jizz in his pants.

 

*

**

*

 

It wasn’t a dangerous job per se. It was a job.

 

A job, she thought, would bring her closer to find her mother.

 

So she thought.

 

“Last call for the passengers of the AA-665 bound for Kathmandu, Nepal, please, step forward, the plane will load the coffins in five minutes for take off in ten.” she snapped, as pleasantly as she could in the microphone.

 

The hangar was empty. She kept on calling this last passenger, the fifteen hundred dollars first class, concrete reinforced coffin, on the microphone because she was certain her boss would eat her before he fired her if a Gold customer missed the plane because she failed to delay the plane’s departure. She was about to call again when a tempest accompanied with the clicking of heels entered the room. Fareeha sighed in relief when she saw the tall blonde vampire in a summer dress stop at her counter.

 

She must be old not to have the fish-reflex, as her colleague, Camille, explained it to her. Vampires younger than three H, sometimes a bit older, kept having the bad habit of breathing even when they didn’t need it, and thus would feel out of breath after such a sprint.

 

Fareeha, looking at the papers and furniture thrown about by the woman in a hurry, figured she might be an old one.

 

Her hair was a shiny blonde; her blue eyes caught her gaze as Fareeha wasted no time processing passports, tickets, and summoning the Gold coffin.

 

“All is in order.” Fareeha. “Camille will help you settle in your coffin, this way…”

 

“Do I know you?” the woman blurted out, her rosy lips parted.

 

Fareeha felt her hair stand on end on her nape. She had become a master at hiding the physical manifestations of her fear, but she knew the woman could smell it. She was a predator after all.

 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, child.” the woman caught herself, oozing benevolence and concern, not that Fareeha was fooled. “You just remind me of someone…”

 

Fareeha caught herself and started to walk toward the coffin loading bay, signing swiftly to Camille who started to put order back into the hangar.

 

Fareeha had five minutes to question a customer when it was not her place.

 

“Might this someone be called Ana Amari, per chance?”

 

“Yes!” the woman exclaimed, a smile stretching her features. “I have known her for a long time, it’s just a shame what happened to her. Might you be one of her relatives?”

 

Fareeha felt her heart sink in her chest.

 

“I’m the daughter of Ana Fatima Amari, yes.” Fareeha acknowledged as she pressed the open button of the expensive coffin.

 

“Oh… You’re Ana’s granddaughter then. I am sorry, I haven’t been keeping up with our kind well since I was turned.” the woman told Fareeha. “I’m sorry if I caused you distress.”

 

“It is no problem, Ms Ziegler.” Fareeha told the vampire, sensing another question could cost her her job. “I wish you good travels on behalf of Anubis Airlines.”

 

“Thank you for waiting for silly me.” Ms Ziegler answered in turn, as she settled gracefully in the titanium inlaid container.

 

Fareeha closed the coffin on the first lead she had in two years on the whereabouts of Ana Fatima Amari (as opposed to Ana Mohameda Amari) with unnecessary force. Still, a vampire over three hundred years old (confirmed by her acquaintance with a woman long dead) and a overly expensive box of titanium, concrete embossed with the logo of Anubis Airlines, the premium traveling company for the undead, could definitely handle the rough closing.

 

Our kind.

 

A lead that led to more questions.

 

Camille settled in his own coffin, Fareeha settled in her car, watching the dawn fly by as she commuted back to Santa Fe proper. In her cold bed, she watched the sun rise and erase all need to sleep the night of work away.

 

Our kind.

 

The first lead in two years. She could afford to risk being eaten or fired, she thought as she rose and proceeded to stalk Doctor Angela Ziegler on the web.

 

Chapter Text

It had taken McCree two full days to find the nerve to text Hanzo back. He had spent those two days at work thinking back on the night they spent together, the hook, the dream.

 

“Keep up, McCree!” Reinhardt bellowed, clapping him on the shoulder.

 

Daydreaming on the job, as usual… At least, it is always well done…

 

McCree quickly shut his mind and returned to work. He was grateful no one considered his absentmindedness to be unusual. He was thinking an awful lot about Hanzo. Especially the dream.

 

There was no way he could have dreamt in such detail of a tattoo he didn't know was there. McCree could see it burning beneath his eye.

 

The sensations felt real too, making McCree’s penis twitch as the dream played again and again for two nights in a row.

 

The second time, he woke up when Hanzo’s cold tongue wrapped itself around McCree’s stiff member. He had woken up, startled by the immediate ejaculation it elicited.

 

The third time, he had gone to bed and taken himself in hand before, imagining the tattoo rippling as hands clenched the bedding, the muscular thighs beneath his hands contract and relax as McCree delved between slick cheeks. The dream seemed to have picked up from there, Hanzo’s hair loose making a dark halo around his head, his cheeks flush, his teeth red from the blood McCree had freely given him, his tongue darting out to further to tease the fangs that had come out.

 

Sometime after that, McCree must have fallen into deep sleep because he woke up above the covers, alone, his hand sticky with his own come. He fumbled to the bathroom where he showered, the hot water helping ease the tension in his back.

 

Once out, he dressed and found his phone. And he texted Hanzo.

 

He waited for the answer a full hour and nearly came to work late.

 

He had forgotten to pack lunch, but Zarya always packed for two and proposed her third sandwich to him. McCree looked at the pink scarf she wore today, covering her whole neck and looking somewhat out of place considering she was wearing her dirty work clothes.

 

Until McCree remembered Mei. Mei was a vampire. Maybe Zarya would know, right…

 

“Hey, I had a question… ‘Bout Vamps...” McCree whispered, looking around.

Zarya smiled, knowingly.

 

“Oh, are you dating the vampire we met the other day?” she asked.

 

“Hmm… Not really, I only texted him back this morning and…” McCree explained. “Well, I… He hasn’t answered yet, I’m wondering if it’s because I’ve let him stew for two days.”

 

He expected a lot of things, but not a full blown laugh.

 

“You are so stupid! Vampires sleep during day time!” his colleague managed to explain in between peals of laughter. “Of course you’re not going to get an answer!”

 

Of course, McCree reckoned. How dumb was that to text someone in the middle of their beauty sleep and then anxiously wait for an answer that could not come until they woke up.

 

He felt… Well, stupid.

 

He spent the whole afternoon fretting anyway, Reinhardt and Zarya, accustomed to his slow and steady job, did not behave differently and the latter didn’t bring up his… his infatuation with a vampire. Or any infatuation at all, which was very welcome.

 

Driving home, McCree watched the sun dip below the horizon, feeling his insides twist and turn. How old was he, eighteen? He sighed. At least, this time he wouldn’t hear the thoughts of Hanzo if they ended up in bed together.

 

Being able to hear everything that came through your partner’s head was more of a hindrance than an advantage. His first had been cheating on his girlfriend. The second had been too nervous about their identity and McCree had spooked them by saying out loud that having a vagina “ wasn’t such a big deal, just relax, god damn it! ” before they had spoken a word.

 

The last ones had been sex workers who had managed to sound enthusiastic, but still thought of sex as a job. The dichotomy simply turned McCree’s erection off and he payed for an even more pitiful lay than usual. Still, a prostate was a prostate and their skill managed to get him off, even if it took longer.

 

The hours ticked by, McCree decided to do some clean-up. He was grabbing a microwave dinner from the fridge when his doorbell rang. Checking his phone, there was no answer, so he was surprised to see the vampire of his dreams ( literally ) waiting at his door.

 

His breath caught in his throat at the sight of Hanzo, his lips parted in surprise. The man was wearing a short sleeved black t-shirt that showed off a familiar tattoo.

 

The memories of dream and the subsequent two nights threatened to make McCree rock hard already.

 

“I’m sorry, I heard my phone notify me there was a message, but, with no power at home, I…” Hanzo started. “The battery ran out during the day, I…”

 

“I sent you a message alright.” McCree answered.

 

There was relief painted on Hanzo’s features and McCree felt pleasure rush in his chest, his lungs bursting with pride when he realised he had correctly guessed a feeling with only a hint of a smile and a movement of shoulders.

 

“As I was unsure, I… brought us drinks.” Hanzo said, showing the pack of True Blood and a bottle of what looked like sake.

 

“I could go for a drink. Want me to… heat that up for you?” McCree couldn’t help but tease.

 

He felt like a whole other person, around Hanzo… or rather, more like the person he was before this whole mess. Easy going, could speak to anyone, charm anyone. Until he turned sixteen.

 

Hanzo’s chuckle, low and going straight to his groin, reminded him further of the luck he had so far with the vampire.

 

“I would very much like that, cowboy.” Hanzo said, in turn.

 

McCree relieved him of his burden, insisting on being a good host. However, Hanzo hadn’t moved from his spot from the door when McCree had set one of the True Blood bottle in his microwave, inspecting the cardboard package for instructions before setting the time.

 

“Can you enter or do I have to say it again?” he asked, genuinely curious.

 

Hanzo took a step inside with another chuckle, maybe a more nervous one.

 

“I am sorry. Though the invitation stands, I am merely too polite to enter without your explicit permission.” he explained.

 

Indeed, his steps were tentative. With his arm, McCree invited him to follow him to the kitchen. There, he retrieved two glasses and poured the now hot synthetic blood in one, offering it to Hanzo, who received it with both hands and carefully waited until the human man uncorked the bottle of Sake and sniffed its contents.

 

“Smells alcoholic, alright.” McCree giggled. He knew of sake, having passed the bottles in stores aisles, when he was on his way to the whiskeys and rums. However, he had never tasted it.

 

“Well.” Hanzo started. “I didn’t know what to take and assumed you did not drink sake often, making it a bit more special than…” he pursed his lips and inspected the row of empty bottles lining the back door to the garden and awaiting disposal. “... Budweiser.”

 

“Hey, don’t diss the Bud, mister!” McCree answered as he poured sake in his glass. “Also, you often bring alcohol on the first date?” he promptly asked, feeling bold in his flirt. “One might think you’d want to have your wicked way with me.”

 

Have your wicked way with me, he thought hard, hoping that maybe, maybe, his point would get across.

 

“Vampires do not need such cheap tricks to seduce their prey.” Hanzo retorted, looking offended but also playful… almost coy.

 

“Oh, really, will you show me?” McCree asked, searching Hanzo’s eyes.

 

The vampire’s shoulders tensed. The human felt a bit guilty.

 

“I… would prefer not. I prefer my relationships consensual.” Hanzo explained in a short, clipped sentence, sounding extremely serious and not at all seductive anymore. His eyes dipped into his untouched glass of blood.

 

“Well…” McCree said. “I trust you. Just know that you can seduce me however you like.”

 

Hanzo looked up again, meeting McCree’s gaze. There was a shine to his brown eyes that McCree was starting to like. In fact, the way Hanzo suddenly seemed to stretch and grow larger, stepping closer and closer to McCree set the butterflies in his belly into a frenzy.

 

“Jesse McCree.” Hanzo whispered, his voice low, throaty and threatening to turn McCree into a puddle of liquid desire. “Turn your drink upside down.”

 

Confused, McCree wondered if it was because the old vampire didn’t know English idioms that well. His brow knit together, but it didn’t seem like an unreasonable thing to do. He intended to drink the sake anyway, to taste the thing. Downing it in one go wouldn’t achieve that goal, but there was a whole bottle of the stuff if he wanted to savor it.

 

“I think the idiom you were looking for is bottoms up !” he smiled as he lifted his glass and drank it all, baring his neck to the man, making it twirl around his tongue before swallowing it all.

 

It was pretty good. Full-bodied, filling the mouth like wine. An earthy flavour spread throughout his mouth and along his tongue.

 

“It’s good.” McCree said, eying his glass and then the bottle. “It lacks a certain bite, though.” he mumbled before he chuckled. “A bite.”

 

He looked at Hanzo, expecting him to jump on the pun, but instead, he found a vampire in shock. Hanzo’s eyes were eyes huge as saucers and his mouth hung open, threatening to reach the floor.

 

“What are you?” the man asked, suddenly all flirt and seduction gone.

 

“What do you mean?” McCree asked, not understanding.

 

The vampire took a deep breath, his strong shoulders rising and his head shaking, as if trying to chase the disbelief.

 

“I… I told you I prefer my partners to fully consent to any kind of relationship, but I could not pass up the joke.” Hanzo explained. “I just tried to bend your will and have you pour this glass of sake on your shoes. Not drink it . If you were human, you wouldn’t have been able to drink that glass of sake and you would have wasted it on the floor.”

 

McCree’s eyebrows shot all the way to his hairline.

 

What?” he exclaimed. “You can… bewitch your victims?” he asked, now just as shocked as the vampire.

 

Hanzo sighed, defeat starting to contaminate his features, like a drop of ink spreading on paper.

 

McCree panicked. He knew the face of a man who was prepared to leave.

 

McFreak.

 

“Hey.” McCree said. “I’m… I don’t know what I am, ok.” he admitted. “I… just want to forget it. And you’re helping. Please.” he added, managing to keep his voice steady.

 

Hanzo was gazing into his glass of synthetic blood. McCree wondered if it was too cool, now. Would it need reheating.

 

“I am sorry, I didn’t mean to offend.” Hanzo finally spoke. “I… You are unique, Jesse McCree.”

 

McCree couldn’t help, he reached for Hanzo’s hand, a cold hand, but he realised that he was getting used to it. In fact, being reminded of how sensitive it made him, made the butterflies lurch and swing with a vengeance.

 

“I never, in all my years met someone like you.” Hanzo went on, putting his other hand above McCree’s.

 

“Well, me neither.” McCree interrupted him with a grin.

 

“It is not what I meant.” Hanzo said, not quite managing to hide his own smile.

 

A smile McCree wanted to kiss so badly… Like his tattooed arm, like his bulging pectoral, like his nipple showing underneath it. Slowly, McCree’s free arm reached for Hanzo’s neck, touching the cool skin. It was warmer than his hands, as was expected, but still ice cold. McCree wondered if he’d become stuck if he was to lick it. His smile grew.

 

“What are you thinking about.” Hanzo asked, upon seeing McCree trying to contain his mirth.

 

For a second, McCree simply relished in the fact that someone asked him what he was thinking about .

 

“I was just thinking if I would manage to get my hands off you, that’s all.” he smirked.

 

Their noses were close, now. McCree wondered who had stepped closer. Him? Hanzo? Both?

 

“Well… “ Hanzo whispered. “I can’t really confirm or deny this. You will have to find for yourself.”

 

He was so close that McCree could feel the cold air Hanzo was blowing through his lips, hear the thumping of a heart pumping the dead blood, synthetic blood, hard and fast. The kiss was inevitable, like a train faithfully following the designated track, each swipe of their tongue against each other a perfectly negotiated point.

 

When McCree’s hand reached Hanzo’s ponytail, he couldn’t help it but untie the yellow ribbon in it, watching the black strands fall on the other man’s shoulders, in awe.

 

“It’s embarrassing to realise I’ve wanted to do that since the moment I saw you.” McCree confessed between kisses.

“Do not be.” Hanzo answered. “I’ve been smelling you since the very moment you left your vehicle at that bar.” he confessed in turn before he buried his nose in McCree’s neck, making the human jump.

 

The way Hanzo breathed in McCree’s scent surprised him. He kept waiting for the bite. All horror films said so. However, the most pain he felt was Hanzo’s lips, leaving hickeys in their wake, teeth not even grazing the skin, the tongue cold and almost dry. McCree shivered.

 

When Hanzo reached McCree’s bearded jaw, he stopped and took a deep breath as if he had just gotten out of the water and needed to replenish his air.

 

“You… smell so good.” he moaned, his hands squeezing McCree’s, as if it was a lifeline, almost bruising him.

 

McCree did not care, as long as Hanzo did not stop kissing his face, nuzzling his beard and biting his lips with soft, flat teeth.

 

Until, suddenly, there was a loud crack. It echoed in the whole room and two points threatened to break sensitive skin. McCree took a deep breath and, his left hand not letting go of Hanzo’s hair, he pushed his face away.

 

“Are you ok?” he asked, a bit nervous.

 

He was after all in the presence of a person who drank human blood for sustenance and he didn’t really want to give his blood now. Sex didn’t exactly count as an emergency.

 

Hanzo’s fangs were still as long and white and scary as two days before, slowly resting on his own lips. It made his smile predatory.

 

“When vampires are aroused, their fangs come out. It is as inevitable and as controllable as this .” the vampire whispered, his hand leaving McCree’s to snake between them, tracing the seam of McCree’s jeans. Hanzo cupped his crotch and the sizeable bulge there.

 

“With all the blood y’all made of, I’m surprised you don’t have a proper boner yourself.” McCree said, feeling reassured.

 

Hanzo only chuckled. Their hands were still joined, so he guided McCree’s to his own erection. McCree shuddered and keened.

 

He wanted this cock in him.

 

He wanted Hanzo.

 

Still, he was a gentleman.

 

“So… How do you wanna do this?” McCree asked.

 

Hanzo’s eyes lit up and he briefly kissed McCree’s lips again.

 

“For your sake, as I seem to be your first vampire, it would be preferable that you take me.” he said, his fangs catching the air in a manner that gave him a slight lisp that was not unattractive. “Unless you aren’t interested in penetrative sex. I don’t mind.”

 

The idea of taking Hanzo made McCree want to grab his ass, feel the shape of it. The idea was so very interesting. Because of his concentration problems, he had rarely enjoyed giving. Being given the opportunity to do so did all sorts of things to his body, especially his cock, now aching to get out of the confines of his clothes to dive into other tight places.

 

“I’d be honored to take you, Hanzo.” McCree said, feeling giddy and…

 

And, well… happy .

 

Realising this feeling made him grab Hanzo by the waist and twirl him, making the vampire laugh too.

 

He was somewhat heavy, but McCree wanted to show this man, who had agreed to such intimacy, that he was strong (not as strong as a vampire, but strong enough).

 

The door to McCree’s room was open. “Excuse the mess, I… didn’t really expect sex on the first date, if we can even call it that.” he apologised, trying to make dirty underwear disappear under the bed with a shove of his foot.

 

However, Hanzo was fast, in less than a second, cold wind blowing around McCree, Hanzo had retrieved the undergarment and was making it twirl around his fingers, a teasing smile gracing his lips. The fact that the bed was just behind him only made the sight even more attractive.

 

“Kinky.” McCree said, excitement threatening to burn him alive.

 

If he thought he was on fire then, he should have expected that Hanzo’s next move would threaten to melt him into a puddle of lava. After having seen the vampire move so quickly, it was slow torture to see the man carefully stripping, one garment at a time, his movements deliberately teasing.

 

Hanzo started by removing his watch and his socks before he even reached the shirt and revealed his extensive tattoo.

 

It was a marvel of colours and shapes, McCree wanted to touch it, feel the muscle of Hanzo’s bicep make it ripple and dance beneath his fingers. Hanzo was about to remove his belt when McCree suddenly felt like he was going to erupt. However, when the human reached for it, his hands were swatted away. Hanzo’s smirk told him everything he needed to know.

 

“Oh… Want to give me a full show?” McCree said, wondering when his voice had become so husky and low.

 

“Perhaps.” Hanzo answered, the buckle of his simple belt clinking.

 

His fangs gleaming in the light of the moon glowing from McCree’s room's window, he whispered, “Maybe I just want to give myself away to a handsome man.” he whispered as he unzipped his jeans.

 

The sound of the fly opening made another lock on McCree’s self-control pop open. He kissed Hanzo again, the intensity of his cold, soft lips driving him deeper into madness. Hanzo swiftly removed his pants and suddenly, McCree remembered something vital.

 

Where the fuck did I leave the lube?

 

Do vampires even need lubrication?

 

Hanzo seemed to read him, he suddenly stilled, his arm slowly encircled McCree and pulled him even closer to him, as if it was impossible. The feeling of safety McCree felt at this instant was singular.

 

“Do you trust me?” Hanzo asked, his voice low, but not seductive or lusty.

 

McCree nodded, he relished the feeling of his nose touching Hanzo’s in the process, the caress suddenly more intimate and feeling even more embarrassing than when Hanzo twirled his underwear around his finger, playfully.

 

“I am…” Hanzo started. “I will use my own blood as lubricant. It’s easier for me because it soothes my aches.”

 

“You have problems there?” McCree asked. “And, I’ve always been told blood was terrible for lube…”

 

Hanzo gave him a small smile.

 

“Well, vampire blood does not coagulate. And it’ll…”

 

“Help soothe your aches.” McCree finished in his stead. “It’s ok, I trust you.” he added, feeling a bit surprised.

 

He genuinely trusted a vampire he had shared a drink with one night, then saved on a parking lot and then decided to have sex with without even going on a single date .

 

McCree took a deep breath and he tried to convince himself it wasn’t because he was missing the cold touch of Hanzo’s bare arms, the air suddenly too hot and sweltering.

 

Watching Hanzo prick his hand with his own fangs was mesmerizing, though.  The blood was dark and trickling in the vampire’s palm. For a second, McCree panicked, feeling helpless, just like he had been two days ago on that parking lot, but he was soothed by the calm and controlled expression of the man in front of him. He treated his own blood seriously, cupping the flow in his hands and carefully coating his fingers before he reached behind him, his thighs spread apart, his erection hanging between them, making McCree’s mouth go even dryer. A small dark bead was coming from it, making McCree wonder what it would taste like if he licked it off.

 

As Hanzo’s fingers were slowly disappearing behind him, McCree decided to act on his curiosity and bend over the other man’s hips, carefully putting his hands on both naked muscular thighs.

 

From below, the vampire looked even more beautiful, lips forcefully parted by his fangs, little pants coming out of his mouth looking supernatural, it was hard to tear himself from this vision to take the vampire’s leaking penis into his own mouth. McCree wanted to laugh around it upon tasting the metallic tang of blood. It was hot, just not as hot as an erect cock should be. It was further warmed by McCree’s tongue laving the tip and when McCree, slack jawed, moved to take as much of it as he could, burying his nose in Hanzo’s pubic hair, the moan it elicited in the undead man kept McCree's desire very much alive.

 

The smell of blood mixed with arousal with omnipresent and heady. McCree soon felt Hanzo’s breathing align with the rhythm at which he sucked on his cock, the member so hard, it made his jaw hurt. Still, with one hand, McCree went for his balls, with the other, he went to play with a nipple. According to what he heard and what he could see, Hanzo’s fingers were still disappearing behind him, a lightning fast blur of white and black.

 

With an audible pop, McCree let go of the Hanzo’s member and looked up again. Hanzo was beautiful.

 

“Don’t make yourself come already.” he teased.

 

Hanzo let out a chuckle, one McCree was happy to interrupt by resuming his oral ministrations, slowly teasing the tip of the vampire’s cock with his tongue and the nipple with his fingers.

 

“Don’t worry about that.” Hanzo answered, his eyes heavy lidded.

 

However, he stopped fingering himself and his hand, red, reappeared, as if they had come from thin air. Feeling the moist fingers bury themselves into his hair, McCree closed his eyes, relishing in the strong hold the vampire had on him, pushing him further onto his shaft, the hardest McCree had ever seen or felt.

 

Imagining such cock in him almost made him come then and there, even as he had not been touched at all the whole evening.

 

It was clear that McCree wasn’t the only one losing control. Hanzo’s movements, his hips now bucking into McCree’s mouth, had become slightly erratic and the taste of blood soon invaded McCree’s mouth unexpectedly. Hollowing out his cheeks, he kept on teasing Hanzo’s nipples and balls until he stopped moving, his breath still short, making his shoulders heave and his pectorals quiver in a way that almost made McCree swallow the blood in his mouth.

 

He wanted to say it, sweet nothings, beautiful, sexy, he couldn’t wait to take him and make him moan again, and again.

 

Hanzo’s bloody fingers touched McCree’s lips, just like they had on that parking lot, two days ago (or maybe two centuries ago, he didn’t know…). With the hand still clutching McCree’s hair, Hanzo bent over to kiss McCree’s lips, his fangs still bared but never touching the other man’s skin, even as their lips parted to allow each other’s to share a bloody kiss, the thick viscous fluid coating their tongues and dribbling past their lips onto their bearded chins. Hanzo claimed McCree’s mouth like he wouldn’t claim his ass, strong, wrestling to lick every drop of the blood he had sent in McCree’s mouth.

 

“I told you not to make you come.” McCree whispered once Hanzo reluctantly let go of him. “What am I to do now that you’ve spent yourself in my mouth?”  

 

Hanzo hushed him with his finger, still sticky with his blood. As promised, it did not seem to coagulate and was just as slippery as any lube McCree used in the past. The coppery taste of it made him dart his tongue to lick it. The taste of it was so alien and yet so good, McCree threatened to come then and there. Not wanting to miss out on the gorgeous creature that had decided to share this moment with him, he carefully took Hanzo’s shoulders and gave him a shy push. Playing along, the vampire, who could have not moved, who could have overpowered McCree in half a second, left himself go and fall, his back onto the bed.

 

“You are taking your time… Cowboy.” Hanzo said, his smile seductive, his eyes glimmering with something McCree would very much like to be wonder, excitement and maybe something else.

 

Not the time to think about such silly things, McCree thought as he took his time placing his own fingers on Hanzo’s puckered hole, making the man laugh.

 

The vampire had not lied, he was tight, but the vampire’s blood had made him slippery. The dark liquid was staining the sheets. He was afraid to lick it away from his asshole, lest they had to repeat the process. McCree’s cock twitched at the thought, so he took the man’s thighs, leaving a red trace with his own bloodied digits and pushed himself in.

 

Tight was an understatement, but the friction was not prohibitive. In fact, Hanzo’s moan upon McCree’s penetration of his bloodied hole was even more of an incentive.

 

It wasn’t cold at all, in fact, the warm strong walls around McCree felt as hot as they should be. The intensity of the sensation made McCree let out a groan, from both surprise and pain and yet, he couldn’t help but move his hips, slowly thrusting into the warm and ready vampire. Looking at his face, admiring how his lashes made a beautiful shadow on his cheeks, how his lips had taken on a rosy colour, despite his pale complexion, his fangs were still bared and each of McCree’s careful movements brought the tiniest moan, one that brought a smile on the human’s lips.

 

McCree kept it languorous and slow, for his own sake, he guessed. The tightness of Hanzo’s ass threatened to have him spill at any moment, his balls feeling tight and hard. Hanzo didn’t complain, his hands going for McCree’s chest, his fingers tangling themselves in his partner’s abundant chest hair before he brought him down to kiss him, again, fangs were never in the way or even hurting.

 

“Jesse.” Hanzo said in a breathy moan after a few minutes of what pretty much felt like lovemaking.

 

McCree’s heart, already going at a decent speed, decided to put the pedal to the metal at the combination of this thought of his and the sound of his given name.

 

“I am getting tired of this slow thing.” the vampire admitted, chasing McCree’s lips, planting a kiss there.

 

“Shouldn’t have made yourself come.” McCree chastised.

 

“You sass me?” Hanzo huffed, his hips bucking to meet McCree’s. The human groaned under the sudden pressure. Stilling, only his hands tensed around the vampire’s thighs allowed him to keep his balls in check.

 

“I do not take offense.” Hanzo said, his voice low and commanding. “You simply know nothing. Thankfully, I am here to teach you, if you wish.”

 

“Everything you want, darling.” McCree groaned.

 

For days on end, McCree wondered how he did not come then and there: the sheer speed at which Hanzo turned them around almost made him spill the content of his balls in the other man’s ass. Their positions reversed, the sight of Hanzo above him, his hair undone, his eyes shining with a predatory glint, his mouth wide open around his fangs as he suddenly pushed himself on his cock, made McCree scream the man’s name. Hanzo seemed oblivious to it, sliding up and down, chasing his own pleasure, going faster, his hips rocking to meet McCree’s throbbing length now trapped under Hanzo’s punishing rhythm. Hanzo’s tattoo blurred in McCree’s vision and soon, so did the vampire as he rode his human partner at a speed no mortal could match.

 

McCree couldn’t decide if this was heaven or even something beyond it. He came with a scream he couldn’t hold back, jerking his hips up to stay joined with Hanzo’s as he shuddered and mixed his own white come with the dark blood dripping from the now gaping asshole of his vampire lover.

 

The exhaustion seeped into his bones like a treacherous poison. McCree didn’t want to fall asleep. He didn’t want to waste this precious night time with Hanzo.

 

Hanzo .” he said out loud. He heard Hanzo make himself useful, cleaning them of semen and blood. McCree was a bit hungry, but when Hanzo climbed back into the bed and took him in his arms, he chased the idea out of his head. He didn’t want to go back to the kitchen. In fact, he was perfectly content to let himself drift into hazy dreams of meadows and dances.

 

Hanzo was even there, looking lost under the glimmering sun, staring at the clouds with childlike wonder. McCree took his hand without hesitation. It felt more real than any dream had to be, but he wasn’t about to complain. They tumbled down the green grass and made love once more.


*

**

*

 

In Aldorf, in 1598, a witch had been burned. In Aldorf, in 1598, a newly born vampire had to be forcefully commanded to not harm her maker to avenge the innocent one lost in the fire.

 

Angela bore this weight of this sacrifice everyday, even as she didn’t have any more contacts with Jacques, or whatever name he went by these days. She knew he had a soft spot for the American colonies. He must still be there, she guessed. She had not checked everytime she had business in this country. Even now, centuries later, close to the culmination of five hundred years of research in domains, she is not even welcome in anymore, she is working for him. Even her visit to her friends did not alleviate the weight, the need to meet the sun.

 

Feel the flame she should have felt long ago.

 

Angela Ziegler pursed her lips as she drank the content of her glass, trying not to show her distaste to her gracious host.

 

“If your mind is troubled, child, do not hesitate to speak up, for I can’t guess what troubles you if you don’t.” Master Zenyatta told her.

 

Nepal used to soothe her, but not anymore she realised, and she was making a mess of things.

 

“I am close to the conclusion in my research.” she confessed.

 

Of the three vampires currently, she knew at least one who didn’t like the silence. He was currently looking way more peaceful than Angela ever felt, suspended in the air, his eyes closed. If even Genji had found peace with this baby vampire, why couldn’t Angela find it anymore? Jealousy was a very distasteful feeling.

 

“Five hundred years of research coming to an end is indeed an achievement.” Master Zenyatta lauded her.

 

Angela sighed.

 

“A dark one.”

 

She looked again at Genji. He had opened his eyes and was looking at her.

 

“It will end in blood, won’t it?” he asked.

 

“What have vampires touched that has not transformed into a bloodbath?” Angela answered icily.

 

The men rose and sat next to her. Instinctively, she righted her position and placed her hands to match their dyhana mudra and took one big breath.

 

Breathing felt hollow past the second century, but the accompanying meditation helped her make her decision.

 

“I am going to destroy this research. Vampires have hurt the fae enough already.”

 

The pats on her shoulders were liberating. She smiled genuinely for the first time in about five hundred years.


Three days later, the scream that threatened to tear her body apart when she heard her research had been leaked online made her bleed from her throat, from her eyes, from her cheeks where she slashed at her face in terror and fear of the pink skull forum avatar of the hacker.

Chapter Text

McCree had been afraid to wake up alone, blood having replaced semen this time, but Hanzo did wake him up just before dawn and they exchanged a kiss before he left. The human thought of the vampire all day, of their night together, how it felt like more than just sex.

 

Hanzo visiting became a regular occurrence. Most of the time they had sex with McCree on top, but there were sometimes quiet moments where they would just sit on the couch and watch television until McCree fell asleep on Hanzo’s lap.

 

The closeness he felt as they had sex didn’t go away. In fact, it seemed to become stronger day after day, night after night. Especially after the strange dream McCree had… He just wished he didn’t have to mix energy drink to his coffee come morning.

 

“How do you do it?” he asked Zarya one day as he was becoming more and more tired.

 

His co-worker was nice enough to give him a list of tips on how to ward off the inevitable tiredness that came after long hours of construction work and long nights spent awake with their… Partners? Dates? McCree didn’t know and it started to make his stomach churn. With a human date, he’d know for sure, but now, he couldn’t rely on his little parlor trick. It felt both exciting and frustrating, surprisingly.

 

“Oh and, I recommend taking B-12 vitamins and iron supplements, as well…” Zarya added in a whisper as they were getting dressed in clean clothes after work.

 

“What for?” McCree asked, puzzled.

 

“Well… Blood loss…” Zarya told him, her gaze now avoiding his.

 

“Oh…” McCree suddenly breathed out softly.

 

Intimacy, trust. Blood, the fangs, barely there. Desire. Her plump lips and breasts, her tongue caressing my folds. She licks the blood and my breasts feel like bursting, my heart as well. I love her...

 

Only years of practice helped McCree shut down that line of thoughts (her line of thought ) as quickly and stealthily as did.

 

“He doesn’t…” he started to say, but he stopped right there.

 

Hanzo had exclusively drank from a bottle whenever he was at McCree’s home. Of course, the human (yes, human , McCree repeated to himself), had noticed the vampire’s gaze linger on obvious spots, the sharp fangs coming out in particularly arousing situations, but Hanzo had never even asked to drink McCree’s blood, either from a bite he made or an accidental cut. He didn’t even ask on that parking lot… It almost made McCree dizzy to think it had happened a whole month ago.

 

Zarya raised an eyebrow at this, looking more surprised than McCree thought she should be, but she said nothing more as they went about their day, working on a private company’s construction project.

 

Then, electricity was fixed at Hanzo’s place. They were in McCree’s kitchen, the human fixing dinner for himself as a bottle of True Blood was swirling in the microwave, when the vampire mentioned the fact as if he had simply commented on the cloudy weather. McCree frowned. He didn’t quite know why. It had indeed become a habit for Hanzo to come and heat his daily bottle at his place. Now he had his own appliances up and running…

 

“You’re thinking too hard.” Hanzo said, teasingly.

 

He had this soft smile of his dancing on his lips and his eyes, though they often looked glassy, like those of a fresh corpse, he still looked at him with a glint that was half predatory, half fond. If McCree didn’t know better, he’d say the vampire was falling for him as fast and hard as himself was falling for the vampire.

 

A dangerous thought indeed.

 

“What’s on your mind?” Hanzo asked, getting closer to McCree but nearly not close enough for the telepath’s liking.

 

There was something good about being treated like fragile glass. And yet, McCree was tired of walking on eggshells. He was quite convinced that he wanted Hanzo. He wanted him more than that.

Would an immortal being who needed blood to sustain their own life want him? An average hick in a cowboy hat?

McCree gazed down to look at Hanzo. His silence must have worried the vampire because a frown was marring his beautiful, even regal, features. Without a word, McCree reached down to kiss his lips.

 

He put everything in it. Every what, he knew not at the time, but he let it all out, all he could not say, all he trained himself for years to keep contained inside. Hanzo, startled at first, but mellowing out the moment McCree’s tongue swiped his lips, pressed himself tightly against his human lover. McCree felt his hard on on his thigh.

“Hanzo…” he whispered.

 

He expected Hanzo to press on, but instead, the vampire stepped back.

 

“Something is clearly bothering you.” he said.

 

“It’s nothing.” McCree dismissed, reaching for Hanzo’s hand.

 

However, the vampire did not allow him to touch any part of him.

 

“I will not go further without knowing what it is you’re thinking about.” he explained, firm and suddenly cold.

 

McCree sighed. He figured he could voice it since telepathy was out of the question. How the tables had turned, him wishing he had it to navigate this relationship...

 

“I just… You know, with the power fixed at your place… We’ll see each other a bit less… I don’t know.” he rambled as he turned his back to Hanzo to occupy his hands. He was finally pouring the dressing over his potato salad and preparing to eat.

 

He moved to the living room and turned on the TV. Hanzo carefully followed him at a certain distance, one that was becoming unbearable. The salad was quickly finished. Despite having lost his appetite, McCree had a long day doing construction work and needed his food. It was something to do beside watching Voltron all over again next to a vampire of nearly a century and a half old.

 

McCree went to bed. He felt Hanzo’s cold body settle behind him, the big spoon, as per usual. The hands that snaked their way around McCree were unsure. Trembling.

 

“I’m sorry.” McCree heard after a few agonizingly long minutes of silence. His heart squeezed.

 

“Sorry for what?” McCree asked, afraid to know the answer.

 

“I…” Hanzo started. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” he pitifully ended.

 

The stone in McCree’s stomach kept on getting heavier and heavier.

 

“I would like to ask a question in turn before I answer yours.” Hanzo asked, suddenly shy, or so McCree thought. Not trusting his voice, he simply squeezed Hanzo’s hand. “Would you like me to come every night? I mean… To… heat my bottle of synth blood.” the vampire added quickly, sounding both hopeful and bashful.

 

McCree took a deep breath. He knew he was in for one hell of a ride when he said that.

 

“I would be amenable to actually feeding you my own if it kept you by my side.”

 

Quickly, Hanzo’s presence disappeared. When McCree turned to look if he was still here, he found Hanzo’s silhouette by the window, the light of the moon turning him into a long shadow casted against the white body of the otherworldly satellite.

 

McCree rose from the bed, but he didn’t even have the time to take a step that Hanzo hissed, obviously distraught.

 

“You know not what you ask.” he growled.

 

“I’m not made of glass, Hanzo. And… I wanna take care of you.” McCree said, feeling like he was trying to catch water, only to feel it going through his fingers.

 

Immobile, Hanzo didn’t move.

 

“You would do this for me? Feed me?” he asked, his voice a murmur. “Aren’t you scared of what I am?”

 

“If I’m honest with myself, I am, a little bit.” McCree answered. “Doesn’t mean I don’t wanna do it.”

 

Hanzo turned around, at last. It was hard to make up his features in the dark, his back to the light.

 

“If we are to… If you insist that I take your blood, you would be mine. And mine alone.” Hanzo told him, his voice exuding a seriousness McCree only saw glimpses of before. “Are you sure you…”

 

“If it means I get to have you all for myself as well, then I’m certain, yes.” McCree interrupted, rising to meet Hanzo and take his hand. “Hanzo Shimada. I will gladly give you my blood. And I would really like it…”

 

McCree took a deep breath. Well, he started it, might as well finish.

 

“I would really like it if we started a proper relationship... On top of that blood agreement.”

 

When McCree reached for Hanzo’s face in the dark, he found his face wet and sticky with blood. He kissed the angry red trails on the cheeks of his lover, hoping the grimy tears were brought by the same emotion as his clear salty ones.

 

Hanzo’s fangboner came out, making the vampire gasp and start muttering an pology. McCree giggled as he softly kissed the deadly implements.

 

It was contagious as Hanzo’s own deep, throaty laugh started to ring, making McCree’s stomach flip. Was this what happiness felt like? Was this what love felt like?

 

Hanzo’s mouth started to kiss McCree’s bearded jaw, as usual, his fangs were never in the way. He was slowly moving toward his neck when McCree thought of something.

 

“Whoa, there!” he exclaimed.

 

“If you are having second thoughts, tell me now, we can forget about this.” Hanzo told McCree, serious and fangs going back into… Wherever they were stored? McCree had never asked.

 

“I’m not, I’m just… I don’t think I can get away with wearing scarves like my colleague Aleksandra does…” McCree asked.

 

“We could use the femoral artery.” Hanzo whispered, still looking for an out. McCree started to slowly understand thanks to the supportive hand on his waist. Hanzo was afraid to hurt him.  

 

“You know what's best for me, for us. I trust you, Hanzo.” McCree reassured him.

 

Hanzo’s fangs came out again, McCree didn’t flinch then or when the vampire made him trip into bed and kissed him, leaving hickeys on his neck, his collarbone, pectorals, even one on his hips. His fangs, McCree didn’t feel. In fact, his only clue that Hanzo was feeding on him was the wetness of Hanzo’s tongue licking his vein before he felt blood ooze, sticky, being lapped away.

 

It didn’t hurt at all. It even felt pleasant. So pleasant in fact, that McCree threw his head back as he felt his own erection start to tent his underwear. Slowly, a hand crept up his other thigh, rubbing at his bulge through the fabric. McCree moaned. Hanzo squeezed.

 

“Hanzo.” he said, breathless.

 

He didn’t know he could get off getting his blood sucked through his thigh. He didn’t want to get off just that.

 

“Hanzo, please , I want you.” he asked, begged.

 

It was his desire. He wanted his vampire, his Hanzo.

 

Hanzo’s mouth lapped one last time, He felt another caress and looked at Hanzo, using his own blood to close the wound. McCree wiggled out of his boxers, looking at Hanzo in the eyes. The vampire’s skin had gotten more colour already, his eyes were now alive with both desire and sustenance, looking more human.

 

“Take me.” McCree blurted out.

 

Hanzo’s weight above McCree was comforting and so was the slow opening of McCree’s asshole by the vampire’s bloody, sticky  fingers. How fitting, McCree giggled as the fingers scissored inside of him. He gave his blood to his vampire and got it back in the form of magical lubricant.

 

“Why are you laughing?” Hanzo asked, his own lips stretched in a smile.

 

“Magical blood, magical lube.” McCree guffawed. He got a finger pressed to his magical spot as a punishment. Hanzo’s grin wasn’t nearly as wicked as he thought, in fact, McCree couldn’t help but notice how happy he looked, especially when he got rid of his own clothing, his penis hard and leaking.

 

“I will try to take it easy, anata. ” Hanzo whispered as he bit his wrist again to cover himself in more of his blood.

 

“Anata?” McCree wondered. “I do hope it means darling.”

 

Hanzo slowly entered McCree and sighed, his toes curling as the now hot member of his lover carefully penetrated him, the tight muscles protesting on principle despite the careful preparation.

 

“It can mean darling.” Hanzo answered, his eyes closed, unmoving.

 

When a bloody tear leaked from his eye again, McCree shifted, resting on his left elbow, he reached with his right hand to wipe it away. Hanzo opened his eyes. He almost said something but seemed to reconsider, moving his hips instead.

 

He had stretched McCree extremely wide and judging by his earlier reluctance to top, McCree imagined his vampire strength and stamina would turn this into a real interesting rodeo. He was happy Hanzo took it so languidly slow for now, caressing the hot human body with his warming hands as his hips slowly rocked into him.

 

The closeness, the intimate touch of Hanzo on McCree’s hips, the kisses they left on each other’s necks and pectorals and, above everything, Hanzo slowly picking up the pace, it all felt surreal to McCree. He wanted to say it, to say he loved him, but he didn’t, instead he met each thrust with a movement of his own until Hanzo let out animalistic growl.

 

“I’m… I’m not sure, I…” Hanzo groaned. “Brace yourself.” he warned.

 

McCree’s pleasure didn’t abate when Hanzo’s love making turned wild, strong and fast . Each stroke inside him felt like a delicious torture, even coming was almost painful until Hanzo came himself into McCree showering the man in kisses and caresses.

 

Jesse. Ii nioi... ” the vampire whispered in his ear before kissing his neck, licking his pulse and nuzzling him.

 

Jesse McCree took his vampire, now warm from their lovemaking and blood drinking, in his arms, close to him.

 

“Baby, ii nioi better mean I love you because, damn I… I want us to stay like this forever...” he managed to let out, kissing the top of his vampire’s head.

 

Hanzo stiffened and for a second, McCree felt his throat constrict further, apprehension thickening.

 

“It… It doesn’t mean I love you.” Hanzo answered. “It means… You smell good.

 

It felt a bit like a confession and McCree, for the first time since Hanzo and him had been together, felt like Hanzo wasn’t being quite open with him. Well, it’s only been a month, he guessed he could keep his secrets a little longer...

 

“Well, I do hope I smell good. I take showers with soap and everything.” McCree exclaimed in a faux shocked tone.

 

“Do you want to know how to say I love you in Japanese?” Hanzo asked.

 

“Shoot.”

 

Hanzo disentangled himself from McCree to put himself in a position where he could take his hand in both of his.

 

Aishiteru .” he said looking solemn, his voice taken with only a small tremor.

 

“Aishitelu.” McCree repeated, a smile stretching his lips.

 

Watashi no mono desu .” Hanzo added, his hands squeezing on McCree and his eyes shining with an emotion McCree couldn’t get tired of.

 

“What does it mean?” McCree asked.

 

“It means you are mine. ” Hanzo said before kissing his hand and his lips.

 

The following morning, McCree was surprised to wake up in Hanzo’s now cold and stiff arms. The shutters of the window had been carefully shut, probably by Hanzo himself. McCree closed the curtains in the whole house as he prepared for work. He didn’t know if vampires woke up during the day. Judging by the proper corpse like look of him, they probably didn’t, he thought as he shivered. Worse than awake on a True Blood diet, the sleeping vampire’s skin was sallow . The human quickly returned to his preparation.

 

Still, there was a new spring in his step when McCree went to work. He barely heard the buzz of thoughts around him, he could only think of coming back home to Hanzo and watch him wake up in his bed. A beautiful dusk.

 

*

**

*

 

The light of the sun was blinding and yet, it did not hurt. Hanzo had felt the sun on his skin only once after his turning and it had stung and burned as much as his failure had.

 

He was asleep, that he knew… However dreaming was new. The experience felt strange and otherworldly after so many years without, especially without Jesse at his side this time.

 

On these rolling heavenly meadows, the grass was green and the sky was blue. It only missed the soft pink of cherry blossom petals blanketing the hill for him to miss his home... He sighed as he closed his eyes, trying to imagine them in his mind’s eye, trying to imagine Genji and his father playing as Hanzo studied with his mother.

 

“You are not welcome here, vampire.” a voice behind him commanded.

 

Hanzo was forcibly drawn from his nostalgic reverie. The woman behind him was short in stature, but she had an aura as brilliant as the sun above.

 

“Where am I?” Hanzo asked.

 

“Not your business, deadman. Bombs away!” the woman answered, her brown eyes hard as stone. On her chest, a brilliant light started to pulse and a scent, so delicious , reached his nose.  He was paralysed.

 

The stream of light was strong and hot, full of anger and screaming for justice. It struck Hanzo square in the face and threw him far away from the diminutive woman. Hanzo rolled quite unpleasantly on the ground for quite a while but despite being shaken, he found himself unharmed. Watching around him, he could only see a prairie and no woman. Still, his body left an imprint of the ground. He followed it back to where he had been attacked. Even with his superhuman speed, it took him a few minutes to reach the woman again.

 

“You’re not dead.” the woman cried out, her stare still hot with the embers of fury. “You’ve killed Jesse!”

 

“I would never!” Hanzo defended himself.

 

And it was true, since the day they had met, the human with the delicious scent had wormed his way into a heart he had thought long dead.

 

“That’s all you vampires are good for, stealing our light and killing us.” she retorted. “If Jesse isn’t dead, then why are you here?”

 

Hanzo took a deep breath. The woman didn’t seem like she could harm him, but she was powerful and definitely not human, just like Jesse was.

 

“Jesse and I have come to a mutual agreement. In exchange for my protection and my affection, he proposed a small amount of his blood to feed me. I wasn’t sure, but your talk of stolen lights and trespassing seem to confirm that Jesse’s just as special as I thought him to be… Your smell as well...” he added, trying to keep himself from pouncing. It seemed even harder to control himself around the woman than it had been upon meeting Jesse. Maybe because Jesse was a half breed of the same kind.

 

The woman’s mefiance didn’t abate and Hanzo welcomed it. If the tales were true… If Taoka had been right… Hanzo shivered. Jesse was in danger.

 

“You can’t protect him.” the woman said. “You’re a vampire. Even if you do not mean it, you will one day hurt him. I can’t allow it.”

“Tell me more.” Hanzo said. “I will do anything for Jesse to be safe, even from me...”

 

“Then leave him alone, lest other vampires come after his light! There are talks on the Internet, they could already be after him...” the woman spat at him.

 

“I will fight them, I will die my true death before I let anything happen to Jesse! Please, tell me, how can I defend him? Or… Can he defend himself? Can he attack other vampires like you did me? If he can do that and buy me time to slay those after him, I will gladly let him train the skill on myself if need be.”

 

The tirade left Hanzo out of breath. He felt a pull. He was waking up. The woman looked less angry, more thoughtful.

 

“I’ll reveal myself and teach him.” she decided said. “If Jesse gets hurt, you can count on me to come and kick your arse silly, deadmeat.”

 

The woman disappeared in a blink and Hanzo sat up, panicked and breathless in a strange bed. It took him a few seconds to realise he was in Jesse’s home. Jesse .

 

Hanzo felt his heart flutter upon thinking of the events of the previous night. The last time he had loved so strongly and so hard had been a century and a half ago. Anata. Mine.

 

He had been possessive too, then. Committed to her safety as well. But this was different. Jesse was not Ayako. He wasn’t just his duty, he… He was drawn to him. After a hundred years of self imposed solitude, he couldn’t bear the idea of losing Jesse…

 

He hoped the little fae woman made good on her promise to teach McCree to defend himself, even if it meant Hanzo’s demise.