He’d always considered himself a man of relatively simply tastes. Not in partners, god knew he liked them complicated and haughty as hell, but in sex itself. He’d always been a fan of sweet, romantic lovemaking. No need for accessories when he had two hands and a gentle mouth to pleasure his partners with, right?
But lately he’d been a bit… preoccupied. It wasn’t that his sex life had gotten boring, definitely not. Hanzo was something else, fierce and proud and just about the hottest person McCree had ever had the pleasure of fucking. It was his stupid, sexy, seductive outfit that was the cause of McCree’s woes.
At first it had been the half-topless thing he had going on. And that had been totally fine by McCree, because of course he’d get a little hot under the collar at that sight. But then he’d started fixating on Hanzo’s hands. More specifically, the armored glove that covered one of them.
Supple, soft leather covering his thumb and first two fingers. Metal protected four knuckles and his wrist, smoothly curving from the glove in a design that was decidedly not seductive. Yet here McCree was, standing outside Hanzo’s room, fiercely debating with himself whether or not this was a good idea.
Their plan for the night had been the same as always. If he kept his big mouth shut, McCree would probably walk out of Hanzo’s room the next morning with pleasantly sore muscles from fucking Hanzo, hopefully a couple of times. If he kept his mouth shut. If he talked, he might get to feel that glove opening him up, might get to feel it against his tongue.
Then again, there was also a distinct possibility that he would be told to get out before his perversions could rub off on Hanzo. And then he wouldn’t get any sex at all. Just when he was about to talk himself out of it completely, the door slammed open, Hanzo pouting on the other side of it.
“If you are planning on loitering about outside my quarters all night, then I must say this date is not going to be one of my favorites,” said Hanzo. He looked petulant, but he still grabbed McCree’s wrist in one hand and tugged him into a kiss.
It was nice. Kissing Hanzo calmed Jesse almost immediately, the soft curve of his lips coaxing McCree into reciprocating. Hanzo was a damn good kisser, and Jesse basked in it. He was perfectly happy not going through with his original plan after all, he decided. Which of course was the exact moment that Hanzo pulled him into the room, closed the door, and broke the kiss. “What is bothering you?”
“Uh,” McCree looked away from Hanzo’s face, then winced. He couldn’t bluff his way out of it now. “It’s nothin’ sweetcheeks. Don’t worry your pretty little head over it.”
Sighing, Hanzo cradled McCree’s cheeks in his palms. They were calloused and warm and perfect, but McCree still flushed, thinking of how it would feel if one of them was covered. “McCree, I am not a child. You can be honest with me.”
Easier said than done, McCree thought. But hey, he was a man too, he could totally do this. “I was just wonderin’,” said Jesse, as casually as he could given the way his ears were burning with a blush. “What do you call that glove ‘a yours?”
“...A glove?” Hanzo said, tilting his head and furrowing his brows. “Why do you ask?”
“Well,” McCree started, feeling sweat prickle his shoulder blades. “I was thinkin’ about it, and was, uh, wonderin’ if maybe you wouldn’t mind.” Then he took a deep breath, and said in a rush so fast it was almost one word. “Wearin’ it tonight.”
Hanzo froze for a split second, and then a slow smirk crept its way over his face. “I would not mind at all,” he purred, hand slipping from McCree’s cheek to touch the underside of his chin lightly, tilting his head back just a bit. “If you will do something for me as well.”
“W-what might that be?” McCree asked, trying for a cocky grin. It was too lopsided and nervous, but Hanzo certainly didn’t seem to mind.
“I get to fuck you, tonight,” said Hanzo. Oh. McCree’s knees felt a little weak.
“I got no problems with that, partner,” he said, and then they were kissing again. Hot and just as slow as before, though now it was somewhat torturous.
Walking backwards until his calves hit the low bed, McCree was reluctant to break the kiss. Luckily, Hanzo had maintained enough composure for the both of them, and he pulled back with the kind of firm movement that meant McCree was expected to follow his lead. “Strip,” Hanzo ordered. “And I will be right back.”
Before McCree could really process what had just happened, Hanzo had already opened a drawer in his dresser, grabbed the glove, and stepped into his bathroom. That was a little odd; it wasn’t like he was changing into an entire outfit, so there wasn’t going to be some big reveal. Shrugging, McCree started in on his own clothes, figuring that Hanzo might’ve been a bit embarrassed after all.
He still couldn’t believe that he was getting exactly what he’d wished for. His heart was pounding, and he couldn’t seem to calm it no matter what he did. Jesse sat on the edge of Hanzo’s bed, then changed his mind and scooted back against the headboard. He had a clear view of the bathroom door, and anticipation kept his eyes glued to it.
About a minute later than McCree figured was a reasonable amount of time to get undressed, the door clicked open. Hanzo had his gloved hand gripping his other arm, just above his elbow. He was definitely embarrassed, then. Still, he looked as gorgeous as always, noble cheekbones and piercing eyes. “Hey beautiful,” McCree said, slightly breathless.
With an eyeroll and a smirk, Hanzo relaxed his posture and stalked to the bed. There was no better word for the predatory way he moved. “Is this what you wanted?” He asked, trailing leather-covered fingers down McCree’s chest.
As it turned out, McCree didn’t need to answer the question. His blush crept down from his ears, but he couldn’t help himself when Hanzo pressed a thumb to his lips. Moaning, McCree opened his mouth, tongue flicking out to taste the warming glove. His body was doing the talking for him, and if the smolder on Hanzo’s face was any indication, he was enjoying it just as much.
“If I had known you would react like this,” Hanzo said, eyes dark with lust. “I would have done it sooner.” And then he thrust his middle and index fingers into McCree’s mouth, making him gag.
It was no secret to Hanzo that McCree loved gagging on his cock. Hanzo had even forced him to beg for it, once, when he’d been feeling particularly playful. But neither of them had predicted how much McCree would love choking on his fingers, the taste of leather and the clink of metal on his teeth. Hanzo spread his fingers, stretching McCree’s lips, and the feeling had him moaning again.
Licking between Hanzo’s fingers, McCree brought his own hands up and tangled them in Hanzo’s hair. It was as soft as always, and he couldn’t help the way his heart skipped a beat when Hanzo tilted his head into the gentle touch. Fuck, he didn’t care if it was cliche, Hanzo was gorgeous.
Slowly, Hanzo pressed closer, pushing his thigh between McCree’s and kneeling above him. “Do you know how tempted I am,” he whispered, face so close to McCree’s that his breath was a minty wash over his face. “To simply fuck your mouth like this for hours, and see if you can come from it?”
Jesse whined in protest, wanting to say, darlin’ please, you said you’d fuck me, but then Hanzo’s hips rolled down into his. Hanzo was almost as hard as he was, clearly enjoying himself, and McCree’s whine became something more throaty halfway through. “Perhaps another night,” Hanzo said, as if to himself.
And then Hanzo was pulling his fingers out, leaving McCree to pant wetly as he reached for the top drawer of his bedside table. “I’ll be damned,” Jesse drawled, too breathless to be anything near suave. “I didn’t think you were gonna like it too.”
“Neither did I,” Hanzo admitted, popping the cap open and pouring a thick, gooey stripe over his fingers. “You are lucky this leather is treated, otherwise I would not destroy it so.”
Cocking one eyebrow, McCree rocked his hips into Hanzo again, making his breath catch in his throat. “You sure about that sweetheart?” He asked.
“Very,” Hanzo growled. His slick hand trailed up McCree’s leg, making him shiver. “In fact, if you do not start distracting me soon, I may have second thoughts. Waterproof does not necessarily mean lubrication-proof, after all.”
Despite the pleasure tingling up his spine, McCree had the presence of mind to surge forward, locking his lips with Hanzo’s. Hanzo pressed his fingertips to McCree’s entrance, massaging gently as his lover ran proprietary touches up and down his sides. Even when he was laid open for Hanzo to use as he pleased, McCree was nothing if not possessive. And why shouldn’t he be, with the gorgeous man he’d somehow landed?
Apparently, Hanzo was on the same page. He pushed his index finger into McCree in a single, firm motion, and then spoke against his lips. “Is this what it takes to break you, my stallion?”
That shouldn’t have been hot. It shouldn’t. “Fuck, please,” McCree begged. Because it was hot as hell, who was he kidding. And when he begged Hanzo gave him exactly what he wanted, a searing tongue lapping at the roof of his mouth and a finger thrusting in and out steadily, opening him up.
Careful, practiced motions had McCree relaxed enough for a second finger in what felt like only moments. On any other night, Jesse would’ve been eager to move on straight to the fucking, but the texture of the leather was feeding the arousal burning in his belly. He couldn’t help but rock his hips into every motion of Hanzo’s hand, grunting quietly when his fingers brushed near his prostate.
“So good for me,” Hanzo said into the kiss. McCree took advantage of the momentary break to duck his head and latch onto Hanzo’s neck. His teeth were unforgiving, just the way he knew would make Hanzo squirm, and he sucked harsh marks into the soft skin.
A third finger pushed in, slower and more gentle than the first two. It forced McCree to let go of Hanzo’s neck to suck in desperate lungfuls of air, and Hanzo wasted no time in returning the favor. He left dark bruises all across McCree’s collarbone, like McCree really was a stallion for him to brand and own.
Even better than the feeling of Hanzo marking him, however, was the feeling of those fingers inside of him. Jesse was making embarrassingly high-pitched sounds, but even when he covered his mouth with one hand it didn’t seem to muffle them at all. Since Hanzo’s archery glove didn’t cover all of his fingers, one of the three inside Jesse was hotter and softer than the others, and the mixture of sensations felt like--
Damn, he could come from this. From Hanzo working him open, hopefully getting four fingers in, two flesh and two leather and spreading him wide and wide and the metal on his wrist cold where it brushed McCree’s legs. He could come from the delirious pleasure of feeling Hanzo’s weight on him and knowing that it was Hanzo’s hand inside him.
As eager as he was, though, McCree was also acutely aware of Hanzo’s erection pressing against his thigh, even hotter than his mouth was against McCree’s chest. “I’m ready, I’m ready, please just hurry and- ah, and, please-” Hanzo stopped McCree’s babbling with another kiss, and then pulled his fingers out.
For an agonizing moment McCree felt cold and empty, and then Hanzo was there, pushing into him with a smooth rocking motion that made sparks burst behind Jesse’s eyes. Hanzo hooked his hands under Jesse’s knees, pulling them up until his hips ached. It gave him a better angle, so that he could fuck deeper into McCree.
Grabbing onto the bed sheets beneath him, McCree gasped as Hanzo began thrusting. He’d been teasing the both of them when he’d decided to spend extra time preparing McCree, and now his self control seemed to have snapped. His hips moved with all of the force that could be expected of a trained fighter, making McCree cry out on each sharp push inward.
Then one of Hanzo’s hands released Jesse’s leg, reaching between them to pump up and down his cock instead, and McCree’s spine was arching helplessly. It took him a moment to figure out why the friction was odd, he was so distracted by the rhythm Hanzo had set.
All it took was one look downwards, a glance at black leather and silver metal and flushed pink skin, and McCree was coming. Shaking hard, crying out Hanzo’s name, pouring creamy and thick into Hanzo’s glove. Hanzo followed not long after, McCree’s body still shaking with aftershocks.
McCree whimpered pitifully as Hanzo pulled out, but he was shushed gently until he fell silent. The glove hit the floor with a slightly wet sounding thump, followed by a condom that McCree hadn’t noticed Hanzo put on. Then again, he’d been rather distracted.
“You did so well,” Hanzo said, tugging down the covers under McCree. Thank god for archer’s arms.
“‘Course I did,” McCree replied. He was slurring a little bit, hazy with pleasure. “I was a man on a mission.”
Chuckling indulgently, Hanzo curled up next to McCree on the bed. “That you were,” said Hanzo, wrapping an arm around him.
Companionable silence fell around them. Jesse turned into Hanzo’s heat, their legs tangled up in one another just the way he wanted them to be. In the afterglow, Hanzo was shamelessly affectionate, nuzzling into McCree’s hairy chest like a kitten. It was endlessly endearing, but McCree still had one question he had to ask before he’d allow himself to drift off.
“So… when can we do this again?”