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Raging Stallion

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Telling Genji was his first mistake. No, not first. There were plenty of mistakes he made along the way. Telling Genji was just the most memorable. Telling Genji was just the most disastrous. A few drinks in and all he wanted was just someone who understood the way he felt and would sympathize with his need. It was a poor decision to drink grain alcohol so freely with so little to eat. Hanzo had looked around and found only Genji.

He would have had better luck telling Satya or Amelie. Fuck. Either option sounded better. Hindsight, as they say, was 20/20.

Hindsight taught him time and time again that Genji always ended up being the nuclear option. And now Genji was directly responsible for the flood of gay porn scenes to his inbox. Nothing complete, just three to four minutes of hardcore, gay porn.

Hanzo’s phone gave the cheery little ding again, one that he had grown to hate over the last day and a half. Another message from Genji. Another gay porn that would automatically start as soon as he opened the email. Another text that stated ‘like?’.

God, he hated that word now.

He stopped looking at his phone at all after the fifth video appeared. That was a mear hour after he pressed that metaphorical big red button with a single drunken call to his younger brother. The stream of videos and messages and pictures of naked men and toys and positions and lewd questions continued through the night. They flooded in through emails and text messages. When he stopped answering them, other social media started to play it’s own volley of chimes, only to stop at three in the morning, a sure sign that Genji had finally hooked up with someone in the club and Hanzo could get a blessed two hours of sleep before he had to get up for work.

It started up again at his seven o’clock meeting. His phone gave a loud chirp-- Genji’s notification sound. Hanzo looked around the room as everyone else did at the sound of a sparrow. It took him three milliseconds to recognize what was happening before it started up again. Another and another and another. Loud, shrill chirps that caused Mr. Ogundimu to slow his presentation to a standstill as all eyes turned to Hanzo.

He fumbled to take his phone out of his pocket and prayed to god, any god, that he could get the sound down without accidentally unlocking the screen. His hands shook as he finally muted the damn thing as three more texts came in from his brother. He mumbled a short apology and held his head down. There was no way he could look anyone at the table in the eye.

The rest of the morning had been the same. Hanzo cursed himself as he pressed his back against the cubicle wall and swiped his phone open to check his voicemail. A stream of images of men, good-looking men that looked chiseled from stone and photoshopped to perfection. Thin and lean and gorgeous. The exact type that Genji looked for in a partner. He quickly backed out of Genji’s text messages.

It was his fault, he reasoned. Sure, he went nuclear with Genji, but what else could he have expected from his younger brother? The man was a camwhore. Quite literally. Genji surrounded himself with hot, sweaty bodies. With people too beautiful for words and lewd photos he called art. sex at seven in the morning was normal for Genji. It was not normal for Hanzo. Hanzo was the responsible brother. The one that made correct choices and stayed away from immoral things.

What he was doing now was not normal. Hanzo hunched in the corner of his cubicle, facing the door and kept his screen low. There was no door, and anyone could want to conference him at any time to trap him in this tiny prison of beige walls, especially after the disastrous meeting. What he needed to do was erase all evidence of gay pornography from his work phone without anyone noticing. Maybe then block Genji’s number for a while.

Maybe if HR traced his phone, he could say someone stole his brother’s phone. Everyone knew he was the first contact in his younger brother's phone. Most were also aware of the fact that trouble easily followed Genji, it would not be out of the way to assume that some prick stole his phone and proceeded to flood all contacts with porn. This recent flood of dicks was a result of that.

Maybe he could request a new phone with a new number and cut Genji out of his life for good.

No, it was his fault for mixing his personal and private lines. He reasoned before that he did not have friends outside of work. And Amelie and Satya both worked just a few cubes down, and they only contacted each other through the company’s messaging system. He spent the day messaging them through the system and had lunch with both women. Genji was the only person he interacted with outside this office.

He should have just stayed with two separate phones so his work life would never clash with Genji.

It was stupid Drunk Hanzo that caused all the problems; he finally reasoned as he finished deleting all the messages from his brother. It seemed that Genji had finally fallen asleep. Nothing had come in an hour. Not since the last hurrah at seven. Or maybe his brother finally caught on that he wasn’t responding. Drunk Hanzo was always to blame.

Hanzo felt dirty the rest of the morning. By lunch, he had calmed. Business went on as usual. Clients served. Emails sent out. Appointments made. Hanzo prided himself on his work. He liked his humdrum job and humdrum life where he lived in a small house just outside the city where there were a Whole Foods and casual dining, and he did not have to think about life.

“Bonjour, Monsieur Obnoxious,” Amelie wore a thin smile as she leaned against his cubicle door. “I heard what happened in the morning briefing.”

Hanzo groaned and ran a hand down his face. “Was it that bad?”

“Akande is furious that he was interrupted, but it is no more than his usual annoyance. At least your messaging was short and sweet. The new girl has an entire Chinese pop song as her notification. It went off three times in their meeting.” She moved in and sat at the edge of his desk, crossing her long ankles and giving him a hard stare. “What was so urgent?”

“Genji,” He answered and packed his things into his side bag, hoping that his brother’s name was as good of an explanation as any.

It wasn’t.

“Has he been arrested again? You know the last time you ignored him for so long he was in the clink.” Amelie followed him out of the cubicle and to the elevators.

“No,” Hanzo stated. “Just being a pest.”

“At seven in the morning? Isn’t he usually sleeping off a cocaine binge by then?”

Hanzo frowned deeply at the woman. Sure, those were the exact words he used to describe his brother before, but when they came from her, they somehow sounded more malice. “My brother does not have a drug problem.”

“You talk about your brother all the time that way. How he is a screw-up. And a party boy. And a whore.”

“The difference is, he is my brother, and I am allowed to speak of him in such ways.” That was the end of it.

Amelie smiled wickedly, “Jealous?”

The elevator dinged and the doors slowly opened, revealing Satya. Punctual as always. She quirked an elegant eyebrow as Hanzo and Amelie entered. She crossed her long, graceful arms over her chest and looked away from Hanzo, waiting until the doors closed before speaking. “Isn’t it absolutely exasperating to find your brother as the root of all your difficulties?”

Hanzo frowned.

“Tell me, which city did he wake up in today?” Satya continued.

His frown deepened.


He finally called Genji after work as he walked through the parking garage to his reserved space. He had been pleased that the onslaught of pornography stopped and had not started up again. Hanzo slipped into the driver’s seat of his black car and held the phone tightly against his ear, just in case.

The loud thumping of techno music blasted as Genji answered. Hanzo winced and pulled the phone away from his ear, only to hear Genji shouting over the warbled noise. “Brother! What are you doing calling me so early?”

“Early? Genji, it is seven in the evening.”

“I meant early for you. You usually work until, like, ten at night,” The muffled sounds of sex droned as Genji spoke. “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you at all. You know, you almost ruined the scene-”

Hanzo felt his face turn beet red. “Genji.” It wasn’t like he didn’t know what his brother did for a living. He called it art. Hanzo called it voyeurism. At least he found a way of making money off of his...creative hobbies. Officially, Genji owned and operated his website where he showcased his body. It was a terrible misfortune for him to search through PornHub and come across a very familiar green haired Asian man doing lewd enough things to make him swear entirely off streaming sites.

“Kidding! We are just photographing today, you know? No video, just cameras. You can come by you know. I invited over some hot guys-”

“Genji!” Hanzo shouted, his cheeks burned. “That is why I am calling! Stop sending me pictures and video and other things! You nearly got me fired!”

The line went quiet. Hanzo closed his eyes and rested his forehead on the steering wheel. The thumping of the music died away and left him in blessed silence. His stomach twisted into knots. He had not realized how tense everything was until this moment. Everything ached. Even now, in the comfort of his car, he could still feel the harsh gazes of judgemental eyes on his back. He just knew that HR could track his phone and see the things that were sent. He knew that clients would see the pornography and the countless, gorgeous male forms that flooded him. He worried that he accidentally forwarded something on to Mr. Ogundimu. And that would be it. He would be without a job and homeless.

He took a deep breath in. His head was still reeling; the steering wheel was the only thing keeping him in balance as the world twisted away.

“Hanzo?” He heard the distant voice, “You with me, buddy?”


“I’m fine.”

“Shit, I sent you on another death spiral, didn’t I?” He heard his brother’s long sigh. “I was teasing you. Why were you in a meeting at seven?”

“I start work at six every day, Genji,” He managed to mumble out. “I work international, remember? The other side of the world has sun when it’s dark here.”

The silence came again.

“Mother fuck,” Genji finally breathed out. “Look, I’m sorry man. I assumed that you know, with you leaving at ten every night, I counted backward to what eight hours would be plus a lunch. I thought I was safe.”

“Could you just….not?” Hanzo whispered. It came out far weaker than what he wanted. He sounded fragile.

“Not?” Genji responded. “Not what?”

“Not….anything...please, Genji. Just….not.”

Genji sighed. “You want to come over? Get a drink? We are finishing up here, and then I am free. I mean, I don’t know what day it is, but…”

Hanzo clenched the phone in his hand tight. He swallowed slightly. “Yes. I will be there. Just….be clothed, please?”

“No promises,” There was a smile in Genji’s tone. Hanzo took another deep breath and turned the key in the ignition. The engine roared to life. “You need me to stay on the line? Talk you through how to get here?”

Hanzo felt his shoulders relax a fraction. “Could you?” Directions were not necessary. He had been the one to purchase Genji’s loft for him. He spent more nights at Genji’s loft than Genji spent at his home. There was not a need for directions, but Hanzo needed to hear his voice, not asking anything of him. Not questioning his motives, just Genji speaking slowly, telling him what roads to take and when to be careful.

In no time he was parked in Genji’s underground garage and was riding the old, rickety elevator to the top floor of the converted warehouse. Genji had insisted on it, for the excellent lighting. Genji had always been the more artistic brother. He dyed his hair, put holes in every part of his body that would have them, and was regularly going to parties with people named Greco and Apple.

It wasn’t until years later when he decided to come over unannounced that he found out what Genji was less of a traditional artist and more of artist. It was a shock, of course, finding the orgy of bodies littered on his brother’s floor as Genji stood above them, camera in hand and snapped out photos. Hanzo was just pleased to know that Genji had not been...indulging his pleasures at that time.

“Hello,” Hanzo called out loudly, one of the many things he learned to do if ever coming over. He was not at all surprised by the fact there were naked people around. More like he did not want to see that many naked people in one place. Announcing himself was the best way to make sure he did not walk in on his brother in the middle of what he casually called “a scene.”

“Hanzo!” Genji moved out. For once, he was fully dressed, his hair gelled back with perfect eyeliner. He walked over and took Hanzo’s work bag. “I have dinner coming in fifteen minutes. We are just cleaning up right now.”

“I thought you said you were doing a scene,” Hanzo stated.

“I was. And now we are done. Lost the light," Genji motioned to the large window and the sky.” He smiled. “A friend was looking to do some professional shots for her anniversary. I was directing. It was all softcore stuff.”

“I don’t know what that means,” Hanzo mumbled, then held up his hand. “I do not wish to know either, Genji.”

Genji shrugged. “Lingerie photoshoot is all it means. No nudity. Just sweet and sultry all mixed in.”

Hanzo wanted to ask about the moans he heard on the phone, but Genji was pulling him along to the balcony instead. Suddenly, he felt tired. Below, the lights of the city slowly flickered on as the sun dipped below the skyline. Hanzo leaned against the railing and wished he had not given up smoking. He did love being in the city, so close to everything. It was convenient. The skywalk could take him everywhere he wanted to go, and his car would no longer be an issue. He would save a ton of money on gas even.

“So how long has it been?” Genji asked, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“I was here last weekend, Genji. And we talk almost every night on the phone.”

“I was talking about that drunk call the other night,” Genji leaned against the railing next to him. The amber light of the cigarette glowed with promise as he took a deep drag before releasing the plumes of smoke into the night air.

Hanzo closed his eyes and inhaled the scent. His fingers twitched to mimic the movement. “I don’t remember. I was drunk, Genji. That is why it was is called drunk dialing.”

“Then I will remind you,” His brother smirked. “You were lamenting about your job and how it is unsatisfying. You have friends, but they are terrible gossips so you cannot tell them anything real about yourself and instead regale them with stories about how lecherous I am. You talked about how you wished you could return to the city, but the suburbs were more akin to the persona you have made at work.”

Hanzo groaned and leaned over the railing, just enough to be dangerous, but not put him in real danger. “It was a bad episode, Genji, nothing more.”

“The loft next to mine is available now. You can live there, next to me.” He flashed Hanzo a brilliant smile.

Hanzo laughed. “Oh good god no,” He took the cigarette from Genji’s hand and took a long drag, letting the smoke burn in his lungs before he released it. “I would hear every pornographic scene you filmed.”

“The walls are very soundproof.”

“Then I would imagine it at every waking instant,” Hanzo smiled. “You are my brother, and I respect what you do, but I do not want to imagine you getting your dick sucked off.”

“You are over here all the time anyway.”

“And I can speak to you face to face. While you are wearing clothes. And your dick is not getting sucked off.” He handed Genji back the cigarette. “No, I think I would miss the stars.” He looked up to the sky. “This feels nice, but it is not right for me.”

“And your job and friends?”

“They are adequate,” Hanzo stated. “I get paid well, and my friends are bitches, but I am just like them, so we go well together.” He lapsed back into silence and watched as the sky went from dark blue to black. The lights of the buildings sparkled in the darkness, but it all felt too...artificial. He loved it and hated it all at once.

“What about that last part?” Genji asked quietly, snubbing the butt out against the railing.

“What last part?”

“The part about sex, Hanzo,” Genji stated. “The part where you felt bored with going to shitty gay bars and meeting men that were either twinks you could break over your leg or old, hairy rejects looking for a hot thing to plow that night?”

Hanzo groaned and ran his hands down his face again. “I was just not in a very content place last night, Genji.”

“You got drunk off your ass on a work night, called to complain to me about it, spent the whole night lamenting that men in the city just aren’t that hot, then passed out on me. I figured I would show you there are some hot guys.” Genji sighed and pulled out his phone and began to scroll. Hanzo frowned and looked away, not interested to see the lewd pictures that Genji had displayed.

“Look, I got someone who might be interested in you,” Genji said and held his phone out for Hanzo. “I told him I have an older brother who is responsible and basically the opposite of me. He has a real job too, with a steady income. Not at all an artist like me.”

Hanzo frowned. He looked at Genji and not down at the phone. “You don’t have friends that aren’t involved in...this,” He motioned back inside.

“He is more of a friend of a friend,” Genji sighed and looked out. “Not everyone I know is a sex-fiend, Hanzo. Not even me. If you want to know, the guy is super anal. He is picky about what he eats, works out all the time and has opinions on everything. He isn’t my friend, Angie knows him from work, a nurse or lab tech or something.”

Hanzo’s hand twitched. Genji smirked. Hanzo knew he had lost. Genji had him with that. Angela had always been his rock. His artistic muse, as it were. She was stubborn and pigheaded and brilliant. Hanzo respected her authority. And her taste for the people she kept around her.

“I met him at one of her parties where I was the photographer. It was a legit job too; all my clothes stayed on. The kind that involves people in fancy clothes and me avoiding food that is made from snails. We got to talking when he said he hated those kinds of parties. He kind of checked me out too, but he wasn’t interested in me. I thought of you. Talked you up to him.”

Hanzo’s lips drew a fine line, and he let out a long sigh. He held out his hand, “Let me see.”


He spent the night at Genji’s again, having his brother set up a date with this mysterious lab tech friend of Angela’s. They planned on meeting downtown after work on Friday. Six o’clock.

The last call of the day lasted far longer than it needed to, but when a client had been double charged two months in a row, and said client was now threatening to take her business elsewhere. He was left to smooth over that situation before anything else happened. He hoped Ogundimu appreciated the amount of patience he held for the woman. After two hours on the phone, the bank had been appeased, a check was written off to pay for the damages. The billing department had not only been notified, but he personally walked down there himself and made sure that the woman was not being charged again. It turned out to be a fluke in the system. A second application had been processed. It was righted now though.

The unfortunate thing was that it left him no time to drive back to his place and change into something less formal than a three-piece suit. He could have swung by Genji’s apartment, but then he would have been rushed to shower and dress. He would have ended up late. Instead, he stood there, looking ready for a business meeting and not a date.

Hanzo stood awkwardly in the doorway of the restaurant and waited, glancing down at his watch and frowning at the passing time.

Twenty minutes late. Hanzo frowned. There was no message on his phone. He gave an exasperated sigh and began to pace the front sidewalk of the building again, digging his hands deep into his pockets. He left it up to the lab tech to make reservations. Genji said he name was Greg (or was it Craig?), but there was no telling how accurate his brother was in his memory. He left the entire set up of this date in his brother’s hands, which now felt like a mistake.

Why did he let Genji talk him into this?

Hanzo looked around at the patrons that entered the restaurant, wondering which one was his social rendezvous. His brother had snapped one quick photo of the man when he was not looking at the party. From the blur, Hanzo could tell that he was, indeed, man-shaped with dark hair and two arms. How desperate was he now to allow his brother to set him up with strangers?

But Angela knew him, his brain retorted.

He continued wearing his path into the concrete.


“It was a nightmare!” Hanzo huffed, a dark flush on his cheeks as he spoke with his hands. Whiskey sloshed onto the hardwood of his kitchen. He frowned as the liquid pooled on his expensive floor.

“Hanzo, how bad could it have really been?” Genji huffed on the other end of the phone. “It was the first date. They are always miserable. You have to look past that and think of-”

“He said I was not his type,” The glass clinked on his granite countertop as he set it down harder than he meant. He reached for a towel to clean up the mess and found the room continuing to spin. He instead decided to mop the mess up with his sock. No one was here to judge him on his cleaning decisions.

“Hanzo,” He could hear Genji’s tone. It was the same tone Hanzo reserved when he spoke to his brother himself when he felt he was irrational. “So what if it was bad. Don’t get blackout drunk because of it.”

“Fucking racist bastard,” He slurred to Genji, who was now giggling on the other end of the line. “You know what he said to me? He said- you know-”

“Brother, you are far too drunk for this conversation,” Genji snickered over the phone. “Cork the wine and crawl into bed. Don’t worry about getting undressed, just get into bed and pass out. On your side, I don’t want you choking on vomit.”

“I’m not that drunk, Genji!” He shouted. The neighbor’s dog barked. He lowered his voice. “I’m not that drunk.”

“Fine, get it out of your system then. What did the racist bastard tell you?”

“He said to me, at the restaurant, at the table, he said, “Your brother was thinner than you. He said he was expecting something….smaller.”

There was a pause, then Genji broke out into a full belly laugh. Hanzo smirked a little at his brother’s reaction. “Holy Shit, Hanzo. He told you that?”

“He did! He said I lied. That he would never have...NEVER...contacted me if he knew….”

“Holy fuck, Hanzo!” Genji’s laughter died down. “What did he think you were, some thirty-seven-year-old twink? I sent him your dating profile. You have that picture I put on as your user picture, right?”

“Pffft,” Hanzo threw his hands wide. “I put up that picture you took of me for my dating profile, Genji! I look damn good in that photo! I am beefy! I am a beef man!”

Genji’s giggling resumed full force at that. “You are prime rib, brother. The best kind of beef. So what did you do?”

“I told him...see...I told that old dick that I didn’t want his old dick anyway.” Hanzo trailed off quietly. He grabbed the remainder of the bottle and made his way to the back porch, throwing open the sliding glass door with his foot and stepped into the fresh night air.


“I wish I told him that,” Hanzo mumbled out. “I was too embarrassed to speak. How do you respond to that Genji?”

“I have always felt throwing a glass of wine in the guy’s face is pretty effective,” Genji said quietly. “But I also am good with being dramatic. What happened next?”

“I paid, and he left.”

“Shit, dude,” Genji groaned. “He made you pay for dinner too?”

“He told me that just after we ordered,” Hanzo groaned. “It was an hour and a half before I paid.”


Hanzo let out a hum and drowned the rest of the bottle of whiskey in two long chugs. He sat in silence before throwing the bottle into the middle of his well-manicured lawn. It rolled away and clinked on the back fence. “Sometimes I wish I was more like you.”


“You know, sexy guys just flock to you, Genji, you attract them. You are honey.”

“Hanzo...I make porn for a living. Those sexy guys are patrons. I have sex on screen, and then they pay me. Those sexy guys make me money, Hanzo.”

“You like it,” Hanzo slurred out his words and laid back on the lawn furniture. “You were always a slut, Genji...not afraid of people and getting close and...big dicks.”

“Hanzo, you need to go inside your house, buddy,” Genji said soothingly. “I can hear you in the grass. Come on, man. Listen to me. Stand up and go inside.”

“Send me your porn star friends,” Hanzo mumbled. His eyes felt heavy, as did the rest of himself. “I want one of them to plow me.”

“No, Hanzo. You wouldn’t like any of my porn star friends.”

“Why not?” He frowned and looked up. He could see the stars twinkling in the night sky. Or was that a plane?

“Because I have had sex with all my porn star friends. They are my porn star friends because we work together.” He could hear the amusement in Genji’s voice. It annoyed him more “Plus, they are sticky.”

“You ruined the internet for me,” He frowned. “Can’t just search for gay porn anymore.”

“Okay, Hanzo.”

“Like…I wanna see it all. An’...I get you. I don’t wanna see you.”

“Okay, Hanzo.”

His eyes felt as if sandbags were attached to them. As if his head was filled with molasses and tar. He mumbled out something again to his brother and sank further into the soft, pillowy grass.


It took the whole weekend to sleep off that hangover.

Hanzo pulled himself back into the world of the living before the sun rose and managed to deposit himself in his bed. Hours later he handled a call to Genji to affirm that yes, he was alive, yes, there was a bottle of water by his bed, and no, he did not need Genji driving out to the suburbs to take care of him.

It took until Sunday evening for him to decide to call in an absence from work. After the dehydration and headache evaporated away, Hanzo was left with a dark hole of despair in the pit of his stomach. The date had been a disaster, sure. The man was a complete tool. What really killed him though was the inability to walk away. He sat there, and took it, over and over from this stranger who did nothing but belittle his existence quietly in a crowded restaurant.

He would not be productive at work, he decided. He needed his faculties about him. Besides, Amalie and Satya would be looking for details about his weekend if he showed up with these dark bags under his eyes. He could not stand a second round or remembrance of his terrible date. He wanted to just forget.

Now, at eight in the morning, Hanzo Shimada relaxed in the crisp morning air. For now, it was wonderfully refreshing, but he could feel the humidity in the air that brought the promise of sticky heat and the outside world would become unbearable.

For once, he was not fighting against traffic or drinking a protein shake for breakfast. Instead, he was lounging on his back patio furniture and enjoying the first in a long line of imported beers in a loose pair of ratty pajama pants he would deny owning and no shirt. Let the world see his chest in all its glory. He worked hard to sculpt it that way, let Karen across the road ogle him a bit. Her husband too.

He had called Mei that morning to confirm his day off, citing needing to use his vacation days that he had built up before it disappeared at the end of the quarter. Mei had been kind too, making sure to put in that he would be working from home, just to make sure Ogundimu would not dock his pay. He resolved to buy her a cupcake when he returned.

And Hanzo was going to spend the rest of the day blackout drunk and masturbating.

He smirked and stretched himself out, feeling the tension dissipate from his shoulders. Well, maybe not masturbate. Not yet anyway. He would give it another hour to be sure that his neighbors were gone, then he would take out his little dragon and diddle it. He closed his eyes, facing into the sun. That should not have been such an enticing though, to pleasure himself where anyone could see, but it had been a long time since he last took time for himself. Hell, it had been too long since ANYONE touched him.

So maybe his plan for his vacation was not that creative, but damn if it didn’t feel satisfying. He worked hard, acquired a stable career that afforded him a house in the suburbs and now, he could reap the benefits of taking a safe, tedious job and just enjoy the fact that he was single, thirty-eight and drinking alone on his back porch while thinking of publicly masturbating.

Slowly, his hand slipped down, past the waistband of his loose sweats and lazily groped at his half-hard cock, tugging it awake slowly.

“So what do you think?”

Hanzo let out an audible groan and rolled his eyes as he looked towards the tall white fence that blocked out all his neighboring yards, slipping his sunglasses down his nose to glare at the invisible people. Someone in the yard to the right of his house meant he could not continue on out here like this. He removed his hand and sat up.

“How ‘bout here?” The voice continued. It was thick and gruff and unmistakably male. It shook him deep to his core and sent electric spikes down his spine. A voice should not sound as good as it did. It certainly shouldn’t get a half-hard chub into a full erection either. God, what he wouldn’t give to have a voice made up of dark gavel and sex right in his ear, promising to take care of his every need.

God, he hoped they would go away. He moved to cover himself as he slowly walked to sit up straight lawn furniture, careful to not let it make a single noise as he swung his legs over to the damp grass. He did not need nosey neighbors looking in at him and seeing him saluting the morning.

“Yeah, here looks good. Help me move the chaise,” Came another distinctly male voice with a long slow drawl to it, sounding like whiskey and honey, smooth and easy. The second spike of arousal shot through his spine. Hanzo glared at the beer in his hand, blaming the minimal amount of alcohol on the reason he felt this horny just by men’s voices.

“Jess, just call it a chair. It is a chair. You sit your ass it,” The first man said, sounding put out by the second man, but there was no real anger or fire.

“Fine Commander Killjoy, please help me move the chaise lounge chair over there…. No, to the left….there! In the sun.”

Hanzo slowly lifted himself up, off the metal frame careful to not make a sound as he listened to his neighbor work at redecorating his own backyard. His morning was interrupted, sure, but he could still make in inside without an issue and upstairs to his bedroom. Furniture being moved in a neighbor’s yard was not something that would derail all his plans, though it would have to change them.

But that voice…

He stopped and listened to that sweet southern drawl as he ordered the other man around, probably a work crew set out to deliver furniture. With his luck compiled the preciseness with which they were working, it was a good chance they would remain outside for a few hours more.

For the life of him, Hanzo could not remember a time when he spoke to any of his neighbors. He worked long hours and weekends. The woman that lived to his right baked him cookies the week he moved in, but that was the last contact he had with anyone, so why did this man’s soothing tones cause the hair at the back of his neck to rise, among other parts of his anatomy.

The slow drawl of that male voice sent shivers up his spine. It was low and thick and oh so masculine.

He bit his lip hard as he reached down to adjust his hard cock in his tented sweatpants. He was already planning on jerking it, he reasoned. He was also previously a quarter of a way through a beer and looking for inspiration. That was the only reason a sultry voice was able to get him to half mast without even seeing the man.

He tried to not make a sound as he formulated a new plan: move inside and keep low and away from windows to not be seen. Phase two (maybe), to climb to his second story and look down on his neighbors while nursing another beer before booting up his computer and taking a leisurely stroll through his favorite videos until his chubby erection became a fully fledged, rock hard stiffy that he could spend hours stroking leisurely until he came literal buckets.

Hanzo did not make a habit of watching porn online, mostly out of fear of stumbling across some of his own brother’s work, but it did not mean he always abstained. He had several names bookmarked, ones from a production house he knew were safe from his brother’s brand of fucking. (Art, Hanzo. I make art.)

Or, his brain supplied, there was always a third option….

His plan was definitely not to slink across his yard like a snake in the grass. His plan was not to move closer to the fence to hear those voices more clearly. The problem was the loud, male grunts of the men just on the other side of the wall were just so damn enticing. There was only so much a man could take from electronic moans that came from speakers whereas here…. here he had real men panting and grunting and breathing. He really should get back inside and find another beer. He definitely shouldn’t be crouching lower and moving into the empty garden to get closer to the fence.

“Jess, are you sure about your plan? I get it. I really do understand what it is that you are trying for here, but are you sure this is wise?” The first man asked as he let out a long, exasperated sigh.

“Ya afraid someone is gonna get an eye full? Don’t worry yer pretty little head there, Gabe. Empty house, Doctor who works the morning shift, Leaves at eight every day, Empty house, vacation for the week and I have no idea, never met the owner but he ain’t ever home. Ever.”

Hanzo held his breath. The man was talking about the houses around him. All of them were empty at this time, or so he presumed. This neighborhood was known for being very…. suburban. Typical families with typical jobs that lead typical lives and died in entirely unremarkable ways. He leaned against the fence and tried to get a good look at the other. Why would he want to know if everyone was gone? Was the plan to rob these houses?

The fence was newly constructed, made of smooth, white plastics. The appeal was the fact there would be no warping of the elements. It was one of the incentives to buy a house in the middle of this cookie cutter house neighborhood. The fence stood tall enough where you would not be able to see into another’s yard from the ground floor, and the boards were slotted right next to each other, so no one could peek through. It gifted him with all the privacy he craved. Now though, he cursed the well-constructed barrier while he searched for an opening, something to give him access to the neighbors. To put a face to that rich southern drawl.

“So you are sure we aren’t going to get caught?”

“Look, Gabe, I own the place. I can do what I want back here,” The man chuckled. Hanzo heard springs creek as the man must have dropped down into the lawn furniture. “Now if we wanna keep the good light, we gotta get on with it.”

“You are interested in getting hits, I say do a pool scene. Those are always a top contender.”

The man let out a loud, exasperated sigh. “Don’t I know it. But Gabe, I would have to get me one of those waterproof cameras. Instead, we have to settle for my backyard near the pool. Hell, I wasn’t even given the budget for a partner here. Just you and a cameraperson.”

Hanzo crept to the back corner, where his side fence met with the rear wall. In that space, there was a seam where both sides joined. Plastic, unlike wood, did not flex or bend with the elements. Instead, it just pulled away at the joints. It left a massive rift there, just enough space for him to peer into the neighboring yard. Only a peek. That is all he wanted, just a small glimpse to satisfy his curiosity...

Hanzo crawled into position, pressing his back against the corner fence post and he looked keenly into the forbidden yard. His heart thudded in his chest as his eyes raked over the new surroundings, feeling very much like a pervert.

Which he was.

Hiding in his own bushes to see into the private lives of a man he did not know, all while sporting an erection. That was the very definition of a peeping tom. His stomach twisted as he leaned against the back fence more in an attempt to get a better view. This was lewd. Unprofessional. Completely perverse.

And yet, it thrilled him.

The other’s yard was more barren of plant life than his own, though it was almost an exact replica in size. Of course, it would be, every house in the neighborhood was a cookie cutout. They all had the same equal size and shape of the yard. They all had a similar layout inside as well. That was the purpose of places like this, constructed quickly to maximize profits. There was no reason for creativity in architecture in a situation like this.

Overall though, his noisy neighbor had a much-better-manicured lawn. He apparently spent more time out there than Hanzo spent on his own. The yard was sectioned off. A patio with porch connected to the back of the house with a large built-in, stone grill and full seating meant for large parties. A pool filled out most of the space opposite of his home, not exceptionally large, but just large enough to lounge in and enjoy a soak. It was beautifully tiled in blues and greens, creating a mosaic that he could not make out from this angle. The morning rays glittered off the water and the glass tiles that illuminated the backyard. Even the concrete and rock surrounding the body of water seemed elegantly maintained. New.

The space closest to Hanzo was the only patch of lush, green grass. No large plants obstructed his view of the yard. Instead, the back side of the sturdy lawn chair did that well enough. He could see long, tanned arms crossed over the back of the chair as the man lounged just out of his sight.

An older man stood with a hand on his full hip as he looked around the backyard, a deep frown set on his distinct features as he looked around, apparently not at all impressed with the look. He stroked the thick goatee on his chin as he frowned at the other man and glanced to his left.

Hanzo saw a woman with shocking pink hair strut around the yard with a frown on her face as well. She held a large camera up and peered through the lens every few seconds.

“What?” the first man sounded jovial as he stretched his arms upwards, flexing those strong arms. “It's nice, right? Good light. Pretty scene. We'll get a good shot here.” Hanzo’s eyes rested on the shiny metal of his left arm as it caught the light. A prosthetic? It did not look like any that he had seen before. It seemed practically ancient.

“Your yard is acceptable.” The woman said through a thick, Russian accent as she moved over and lifted the camera to her eye and walked around the man. “You look good here.”

Hanzo felt the breath catch in his throat as he watched the man in the chair stand up with his back still to the fence. He stretched out to his full length with his arms overhead. He was tall, with long shapely legs dusted over with dark hair. His eyes traveled up to the firm, muscular back, and shoulders. His eyes were trained though on that tiny orange and white striped speedo. It hugged tightly against his ass and rode low, showing off the sharp curves of his hips. The man was perfectly masculine and muscular. Hanzo’s breath hitched as his eyes traveled further up, over that defined chest, the richly colored tattoos...that glorious bulge, hidden behind those all too small speedos.

How did he not realize just how gorgeous his own neighbor was? Immediately plans of weekend barbeques and block parties rose to his mind. Anything to get him closer to this Adonis of a man.

His cock strained tight in his loose pants and gave an affectionate twitch as the man hooked his index fingers into the waistband and hoisted those speedos up and caused his tight ass to jiggle just so. His eye followed those arms up, looking along the strong collarbone and thick neck.

And then he saw that face. Messy brown hair that stuck up at all angles was swept to the side just out of his face and a neatly trimmed chestnut beard. The man smiled, and suddenly it felt like the sun had never shined before that moment. His sweet brown eyes that crinkled around the edges. Hanzo felt his heart melt.

The woman pulled him out of his daydream as she moved closer, obstructing his view. “So what is the scene?”

“Jack doesn’t have faith in my ideas. He’s old school and just wants ding-dong pizza guy then we fuck plotlines. Things that are tried and true. I think they are dumb with obvious titles.”

“Obvious titles gets hits, boy,” Gabe snorted. “Fine fine. What’s your story, Jesse? Jack, it until you cum?”

Hanzo felt his face heat up as he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against the cold white plastic of the fence. His hand rubbed circles on his cock as he watched this man stretch himself out, his speedo dipping low on his hips. His eyes were drawn downward, over the man’s defined chest and the trail of thick hair that led just below the waistband of the tight swim trunks.

What was he getting himself into?

The man, Jesse, reached down as if he knew where Hanzo’s eyes were and cupped his cock, stroking himself slightly through the speedo. “Naw, I was thinking something a little more...interactive.” He stroked himself a few times, pulling at the fabric and showing off the thick thatch of coarse hair and little more. Hanzo felt his mouth water.

“Interactive?” Gabe snorted, “Like a choose-your-own-porno-adventure?”

“I was thinking….what if Jaxon fucks the cameraman?” He smirked and looked over to the camerawoman “What’dya say, Zarya?” He winked.

Jaxson….the name echoed inside Hanzo’s brain, bouncing around inside his chest with the heavy beat of his heart and rested in his groin. Jaxson McCoy. Suddenly it was so obvious. That voice. Those cut hips. That fucking adorable smile. He had seen it a hundred times behind the screen of his phone. Jaxson. Fucking. McCoy. Adult film actor, Jaxson McCoy who starred in some of his favorite spank material.

Jaxson McCoy who fucked like an animal. The man who showed no hesitation in picking up his peers and fucking them against the wall in a way that Hanzo never was able to find in any real-life partners.

Jaxson McCoy, who was always so vocal in his videos. He moaned and screamed and, most importantly, had that thick, velvety voice and that slow southern drawl that made everything that came out of his throat ooze such sensuality that Hanzo still felt the need to wear headphones in his own home, just in case the noise traveled. That voice that sounded submissive and smooth one minute then world shattering the next moment.

Jaxson McCoy who could shoot his load all over his partner’s back in thick, milky white ropes. The man who would kiss and devour his partner’s bodies with hot, open mouth kisses and left each and every one of his videos with Hanzo aching that it was over.

In the end, Hanzo was always left cold and alone in his room with cum cooling on his stomach which left him feeling...empty...and yearning for more of that amazing man, Jaxson McCoy…

And here, stretched out not five feet in front of him was the god of gay porn looking even more delectable in person than he ever did on camera. He was long and robust. Everything about him seemed so much more significant in real life.

“So, what do you think ‘bout my idea?

“Jess, you’re a porn star.”

“Gay adult film artist,” Jaxon McCoy corrected.

“You do gay porn, Jesse McCree. You suck dick for money. On film. Look, Jack was right; the amateur days of you just whipping it out and jacking it just don’t cut it anymore. At least with the pizza delivery boy routine, there is something more going on that is familiar. People watch porn to see you fuck, not for the compelling story arcs.”

Jesse’s shoulders dropped, “Hell, Gabe. I asked you out here to help me, not to just berate me and drag me down.”

“I am trying to help you out here, Jess. I’m going along with this, but realize that whatever we do, if it doesn't pan out, just listen to Jack.”

The woman sighed and looked over at them. “I like the idea,” She stated. “I do watch porn for the compelling storylines. Others do too.” She smirked at Jaxson. “And it would be very sexy to think the cameraman is touching what he shouldn’t.”

Gabe scowled at the woman before turning his attention back to the adult film star in front of him. “So you are going to what? Talk to the camera?”

“Well...yeah….It’s big online, you know? Cute little cam boys talking it up to the audience, drawing in a big crowd. I was thinking...I do a little flirty flirt with the camera guy… pretending to be a camera guy, I jerk it a little, get off on knowing you are gonna jerk it later, give Jack a taste of what this could be and...get something different into my resume besides just Drill My Hole 7 and Cumsluts 9.”

“So Jaxson McCoy fucks the Cameraman is your artistic muse?”

His laughter rumbled out of him in a wave and through Hanzo’s chest. “I guess so. Jaxson McCoy fucks the Cameraman.”

Gabe let out an exasperated sigh and looked around the yard before answering, “Fine, just tell me my cues.”

“I strictly touch myself and talk at you, you just get to walk around and pretend you are some big dicked cameraman who wants to fuck the model.”

Zarya hummed and shook her head. “Too generic,” She looked to Gabe. “A solo job just watching the camera and stroking yourself is nothing Jack will like. It plays too much into the roles. He will just put it online and move on.”

“What’re you suggestin’?” Jesse fiddled with his waistband and looked at the woman.

“You said interactive,” She nodded her head towards Gabe. “He jacks you off while off camera. Jaxson McCoy seduces the cameraman.”

Gabe laughed and held up his hands. “I’m retired. I’m here because Jess wanted to borrow a camera and staff. I needed to make sure he was not misusing my equipment. I don’t fuck anymore.”

“Damn! No wonder Jackie’s in such a piss poor mood all the time!” Jesse laughed and looked at the woman, lovingly punching her in the arm. “I like it. Come on, jefe, just a little tickle-the -pickle?” he wiggled his hips in Gabe’s direction.

Gabe groaned and walked away. He ran a hand down his face again and looked up to the sky. “Just a little jack-off and that’s it?”

Jesse moved into the chair and reclined back, opening his legs wide. “Just like old times.”

Zarya shouldered the camera and flicked a switch, not letting the man answer before deciding for him. “Okay, we are live. Get into character, Mr. Jaxson. Remember, I can fix anything in post-production.”

He smiled warmly up at her and reclined back on the lounge chair. “So you will edit out this first part?” Jesse McCree closed his eyes and laid back more, his carefree attitude slipped away with the countdown until there was nothing left but a sultry look that went straight to Hanzo’s cock. He opened his eyes and transformed into the very familiar visage of Jaxson McCoy.

Jaxson let out another rumble of laughter before his fingers slowly roamed down his neck and over his collarbone, “So, this is what we are doing huh? You filming me and I suppose to...what?”

His voice was the biggest draw Hanzo had to his videos. Hanzo was not some prudish angel, he was a man with needs. And sometimes those needs strayed away from still images and into the dredges of the internet. His tastes varied, depending on his level of demand. Sometimes, it was light bondage. Sometimes it was just good old-fashioned voyeurism. But then Hanzo accidentally stumbled across his video.

Jaxson McCoy was highly rated. The king of gay porn, as it were. And he was exclusive to Blackwatch Productions. The first thing that drew him to that handsome man was the blissed out look on his face as he was bent in half and fucked. The camera loved him. The way his eyebrows knit together and his mouth hung open with low, grunting moans. His big, honest eyes that sought out his partners…

He often wondered what it would be like to have those big eyes on him, watching him… His cock twitched again, begging for his attention. He dropped his hand down, mimicking the man in front of his own movement. He brushed along his own bare collarbone.

“How many models have you filmed?” Jaxson asked, his hand trailing further down to lightly stroke along his abs then back up at the same languished pace letting his fingers swirl around his dusty rose nipples. His chair was angled just perfectly. He was there, basking in the early morning light and on display for only Hanzo to see.

He waited for a reply. Gabe rolled his eyes and walked away, refusing to acknowledge the scene in front of him. It didn’t matter anyway. The woman picked up the dead space. “Hundreds,” Zarya stating, keeping up her end of the conversation. “Just hundreds and hundreds of... dicks.”

“You ever touch a model before?” He purred out, arching up into his own hand as he continued to stroke himself. He ignored the joke, for the most part, only letting a coy smile part his lips that signified he heard her correctly.

“No,” Zarya stated, moving closer to him. “I’m a lesbian. I film cock. I don’t touch it.”

“You ever thought about it? You’ve been here before. I’ve seen the way you look at me,” He gave a lopsided grin. His eyes were heavy-lidded as his hand stroked down to his hips, pulling that speedo along with it. His cock bobbed free and smacked against his stomach. “Ever think about reaching out and….touching me?”

Zarya moved to the side, focusing on his face with her camera. “Every damn time I see you, I want to slap you.”

“Do you get hard, watching us when we fuck?”

“Ooh, Baby, I wanna ram that hairy ass of yours until you see stars,”

Jesse broke his Jaxson character there as a fit of giggles washed over him. He covered his face and turned to the side as a loud huff of laughter burst forth. “Gabe! I can’t deal with this!” He looked over. “She ain’t playin’ fair!”

“And you sound like one of those damn romance novels you have lying around!” Gabe snorted and moved over. “Lemme through, where you need me, Zar?”

The camerawoman maneuvered Gabe slowly just next to her as if he were the one operating the camera equipment. “From the top?”

“Yes,” Gabe stated before Jesse could intervene. “I think we should make this sound like an introduction video. Like, Meet Jaxson McCoy. Oops, he gets too frisky and fucks the cameraman.”

Jesse frowned and pulled up the speedos, hiding his cock away. “So, make up some backstory?”

Gabe shrugged. “Hi I am Jaxson, and I have always been a little shit that plays by his own rules, you know. The usual.”

Jesse laughed and laid back. “Sure boss.”

Hanzo watched through several takes, as the woman shot extreme close-ups of his abdomen and thighs as Gabe coached him through lines. Hanzo felt pressed against the fence, listening intently, though some of the words only came out as a whispered mumble. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on that pleasant tone of voice. He bit his lower lip to keep from groaning out and slowly untucked himself and stroked himself.

“Have you ever messed around with a model on set?” Jaxson was back, his dreamy bedroom eyes on the camera and not on either of the two people around him. His voice was louder now, pulling Hanzo back to the present. He looked in and watched as Jesse stretched himself out, cupping himself in the speedo.

“No,” Gabe replied much quieter.

“Would you ever mess around with a model?” Jaxson’s head lolled to the side, and a bright smile broke over his handsome features. “What would you do?”

“Anything you want,” Gabe stayed away, answering just as quietly. Hanzo strained to listen, wanting to know every devious idea that came into the other man’s mind. The rest of the world melted away, and his focus was just on the man in front of him…

“Whatever I want, huh?” He laughed and bit his lower lip. “Would you touch my cock?” He stretched his arms overhead and showed off that toned chest. “You can just reach down and pull it out.”

Zarya shuffled the camera and called for a pause, much to Hanzo’s chagrin. She moved behind Jesse and lifted the camera back up. “Ok,” She gave a curt nod once Gabe’s eyes were on her.

He slowly reached up, looping his one thumb into his swimsuit and dragged it down. Once again, Jaxson’s cock bobbed free, and he groaned with the release of pressure. “All for you,” He laughed.

Gabe’s hand wrapped around his cock and slowly began to pump in as Zarya moved back down, over his shoulder to continue filming.

Hanzo could just sweat. He bit his lower lip hard as her body blocked Jaxson’s from his. He wanted to scream and rage. How dare they block his voyeuristic pornography. But he didn’t. He knew better than to draw attention to himself. Instead, he leaned in further, pumping his hand with the same pace he saw Gabe take on Jaxson.

“Oh yeah,” Jaxson’s head fell back on the chaise as he was stroked. “Fuck yeah, suck my balls.”

“Ain’t doing that, Jesse, “Gabe smirked and moved his other hand up, cupping his balls in response. “Remember, this is just an invitation. Only gotta be about five minutes. Jack ain’t gonna watch much more than that.”

Jaxson looked down and smirked. “Your mouth feels so good on me, yeah.” He arched his back, and his eyes moved away from the camera, peering directly at the fence. “Fuck yeah.”

Hanzo felt his blood run cold as he watched, his hand pumping furiously along his length as he watched the man in front of him open his legs farther as the speedo was entirely removed and thrown aside. His eyes stayed locked on the corner of the fence as if he could see what was there.

Caught. Hanzo was caught. His fist wrapped snugly around his cock and stroking himself so rigidly as the pornstar neighbor thrust into that waiting fist. Hanzo gasped. He felt his cock throbbing in his hand at that. He reached down and cupped his own testicles, heavy with spend, feeling their weight in his hand as he tugged them down, not wanting to end this yet.

Jaxson’s face contorted. He bit his lower lip hard as he arched his back off the chair. His eyebrows knit forward as he let out a loud groan. His mouth hung open as he gasped out again.

Zayra stood, moving to the side as Jaxson writhed on the other’s hand, thrusting up hard and fast. The first stripe of cum landed on his belly, pooling at his navel as Gabe continued to pump him, slow and steady, gripping him warmly and pulling each new rope of spend from his body.

Hanzo’s own fist beat furiously along his shaft as he felt the coil of pleasure building inside his belly. He bit his lip hard as his own apex near and topple him over the edge. His head shifted forward, falling against the fence with a loud thump as his cum sprayed out over the white fence, blending in and dripping into the dark dirt. He panted and looked up again, watching as Jaxson continued to be used.

Jaxson gasped and moaned for every last pump, his head falling back, always towards the camera as he cried out for his release. Gabe's fist tightened, under his head as he wrung every last drop from the other’s body until Jaxson was crying out again, one final time before relaxing back with a contented sigh.

The woman moved slowly, panning her camera along with his body without a word as Gabe sat back and wiped his hand clean on a nearby towel.

Jesse laid in bliss, moaning out every few seconds, groaning and twitching as his fingers dug into the chair next to him, not once touching the mess on his body before he flashed a grin at the camera. “That was fun,” He gave the camera a knowing smile. “That was beyond anything I have ever done. You….you are incredible. I can’t believe this is your first time. That was hot.”

“That’s a wrap,” Zarya moved the camera off her shoulder and smirked. “Good job, Jaxson McCoy, getting it all out in under fifteen minutes. A new record.”

Jesse laughed and reached over, grabbing the towel and mopping his stomach up. “If Jack is only going to watch five minutes, he better see the best part,” He winked over to Gabe. “It’s why you originally hired me. I was pretty when I came.”

Gabe rolled his eyes. “A lifetime ago, maybe. I’m immune to your charms now, Jesse.” He nodded and looked at the pool. “Still think fucking in a pool would be better but, who am I to say anything. I just own the damn production company. What do I know about porn.”

Jesse stretched out his naked body and sank back into the chair as he closed his eyes. “You can see yourself out, right? I wanna take a little siesta.”

It took him an age to slowly right himself. Hanzo pressed the flat palms of his hand against the fence as he slowly tucked his aching dick back into his pants. Shame flooded his senses. He had just watched a man get jacked off. He, himself, jacked off to the idea of a porn star living next door. He felt his insides curl as he slowly pulled away.

“Hope you enjoyed the show,” Came the smooth drawl of Jaxson McCoy. “Everyone gets one free. Just know, next time you gotta pay for that.”

Hanzo felt his cheeks go pink. He jumped up and fled inside his house, slamming the door shut behind him and not at all hearing the curt laughter that came from next door.