#reapzo76

Hanzo had forgotten how bad Genji's timing was.

The reminder had begun, only begun, with their confrontation in Hanamura, wherein Genji revealed his identity and professed his forgiveness after pressing his sword against his throat.

What was Hanzo supposed to make of that?

Regardless, Hanzo spent a few weeks contemplating his brother’s words and his ultimatum to “choose a side”.

Well, Genji might think the sides to choose from were obvious, but Hanzo wasn’t so sure.

So some investigation was in order.

It only took a very little investigation to discover that Overwatch employed some very, very singular, talented…and attractive…men.

The first one Hanzo accosted was Reinhardt Wilhelm. 

Hanzo learned a lot in a very short amount of time; Reinhardt Wilhelm was perfectly willing to chortle and laugh and joke with Hanzo when he sidled up next to him in a old but well-appointed bar, the giant man towering over Hanzo yet so affable and accommodating that it felt like they were talking face-to-face.

But they weren’t. Hanzo was level with Reinhardt’s…torso.

Reinhardt noticed his admiration.

That had led, naturally enough, to a proposal for Hanzo to join him outside for a breath of fresh air.

But what didn’t follow naturally enough, from Hanzo’s point of view at least, was how quickly the giant man first knelt, his eyes alight with desire, then crawled forward on all fours.

That had been a surprise, but a well-received one.

Reinhardt stuck out his tongue to tease at Hanzo’s cock with the very tip for a few moments, then, instead of taking it into his mouth, he lapped and licked at it with rapid, flat strokes, like an enormous, enthusiastic dog.

Which was when Hanzo noticed the giant man was shaking his rump back and forth.

In lieu of a wagging tail.

While he looked up at Hanzo with puppy-dog eyes.

A singular and handsome…and talented man. When Hanzo sighed in pleasure at the heat engulfing his cock at last, Reinhardt looked like nothing could delight him more, and he was soon working his mouth as far onto Hanzo’s long girth as he could. Seeing this enormous man act so submissive and needy and eager to please, looking up at him for assurance and praise and letting his eyes slide closed when Hanzo reached down to caress his cheek and pet his hair and breathlessly whisper how well he was doing was intoxicating.

He wondered if this alley was deserted enough for Wilhelm to turn around, still on all fours, so that Hanzo could tug his trousers down to reveal the two enormous globes of his ass so that he could…

So he could…

So Hanzo could…

Reinhardt was very good with his mouth. He was distracting.

He let Hanzo’s cock drop out of his hot mouth to cool in the night air once it became clear that he wouldn’t be able to deepthroat the whole thing. He looked disappointed and bashful, as though feeling the sting of failure, but Hanzo smiled down at him and guided his mouth so that he could play with Hanzo’s balls instead, feeling his lips mouth at first one, then the other, before Reinhardt was reanimated by Hanzo’s sighs of approval and sucked his entire ballsack into his heat and bathed them lovingly with his almost serpentine tongue, and he actually whined whenever Hanzo shuddered from a spike of pleasure shooting through his body.

No, there would be no assplay tonight, but the way Reinhardt had so masterfully brought him to the precipice of his orgasm more than made up for it. 

Hanzo gasped and held Reinhardt’s head firmly between his hands when he felt himself teetering on the edge, pulling his balls out of his mouth and replacing it with his cockhead. 

As he pumped his load into his waiting mouth, he could feel the giant man’s bestial growls of pleasure as Hanzo’s flavor exploded across his tongue and his heat slid down his throat, and he looked so proud looking up at Hanzo’s tight, scrunched up expression, overwhelmed by the intensity of the orgasm he had worked out of him. 

When it seemed Hanzo was finishing up, Reinhardt let him fall out from his mouth, just in time to let one last white streak spurt across his lower lip and into his beard. 

He looked picture perfect.

Hanzo chuckled at the erotic sight as the giant man climbed to his feet and towered over him again as Hanzo stuffed himself into his slacks. He either didn’t notice Hanzo’s cum on his face or didn’t care as he leaned down, sporting a huge smile.

Hanzo opened his mouth to tell him about it…but at that moment the bar door swung open.

“Reinhardt!” Genji called out as he poked his head out into the alley, his green visor glowing brightly in the dim light. “Reinhardt, are you out here?”

“Genji!” Wilhelm greeted cheerily. “What a surprise! Come and meet my new friend here!”

“Hanzo?”

The word was quiet and disbelieving and remarkably in line with Hanzo’s cold, wary expression. 

But it made Wilhelm absolutely glow as he utterly failed to grasp the connotations. “You two know each other?!” he crowed, grinning so wide it was amazing his head didn't fall off. “Splendid! Are you friends? Colleagues? Is he an acquaintance from the monastery?”

“I…” Genji said slowly, then, standing up straight and clapping his hands together, he said with passable cheer, “I knew him in Japan. We came across each other recently, though, and I’m surprised to see him again so soon!”

“Oh, an unexpected meeting?!” Wilhelm all but bellowed. “Wonderful! We met here at the bar and we were talking up such a storm that he accompanied me when I stepped out for a breath of fresh air! But I hear the siren call of beer, so I will duck back inside and leave you two to catch up!”

He strode forward and past Genji. Once he was behind him, he turned back to Hanzo and gave an endearingly slow and obvious wink.

He still had Hanzo’s cum on his lip and beard.

Hanzo was powerless to signal him, however, and the damage was already done. 

Genji couldn’t have failed to see it.

So he only half-smiled as Wilhelm disappeared back inside.

Leaving him alone with Genji.

They both stood completely still for a few moments.

Then, Genji shifted his weight, placing it on one leg and he adopted a deliberately casual stance, and crossed his arms over his white metallic chest. “So.”

Hanzo waited breathlessly.

“How much intel did you gather from him?”

Genji’s voice was flat and cold. Hanzo swallowed and, on the off-chance the universe would choose to be kind, said with assumed indifference, “A fair amount. Your friend is very chatty.”

“Yes, he is,” Genji sighed, shaking his head. “You probably got my entire Overwatch service record from him, plus a few embarrassing stories.”

A glimmer of hope sprang up in Hanzo’s heart. If Genji had noticed what had happened between him and Reinhardt, he would have started harassing Hanzo about it almost immediately.

Assuming, of course, that Hanzo knew anything about Genji’s character anymore.

“Well, whatever you got from him,” Genji continued, his voice still flat, “will only be part of the story.”

Hanzo narrowed his eyes. “Part?”

“I was an Overwatch agent, sure, but I’m sure you heard about Blackwatch.”

Hanzo nodded cautiously.

“That’s where I spent a lot more of my time. Most of my ‘colleagues’ from that time are currently dead or terrorists,” Genji said baldly, “but if you want more info before you make a decision, then you should look up Cole Cassidy.”

And he turned away and disappeared back into the bar.

Hanzo stood there for a few moments before he let out a sigh and slumped against the wall.

Genji hadn’t seen. He hadn’t suspected.

As he recovered, straightened, and set off, he hoped Reinhardt had spotted and wiped off Hanzo’s cum by the time Genji found him again inside the bar.

Hanzo found Cassidy fairly effortlessly a couple of days later, partially because the rumors about his apparel turned out to be completely true. 

It was much harder to begin tailing him without being noticed. By complete accident, Hanzo happened to start following him just when another person did, too, and while Hanzo never got close enough to this mysterious person to find out what he wanted, Cassidy apparently thought enough of him to first threaten him point blank with a gun, then team up with him, then rescue him from a Talon strike force.

They made quite the striking pair as they stowed aboard that train.

The mysterious man debarked soon afterward, but Cassidy himself settled in, relaxed and unalert, for the long haul. Hanzo waited until the train stopped at another station, then walked down the aisle and took a seat across from him.

He nodded at Cassidy in a friendly way.

Instantly, before Hanzo had a chance to do and say anything else, Cassidy looked up from under the brim of his cowboy hat, looked him up and down, and smiled flirtatiously. “Hey there. You wouldn’t be in the mood for some fun by any chance, would you?”

Hanzo was too controlled to reel back, but he couldn’t stop his eyes from widening in surprise. “You are…” he began, squinting at him, “quite bold.”

“Well, it’s just that I’ve been through a real stressful day,” Cassidy replied with a roguish and very attractive smile, “and I tend to get kinda…pent up, you could say.”

And he traced the outline of his huge erection through the fabric of his jeans, even going so far as to cup his balls in the process.

What else could Hanzo do, honestly?

He headed for the bathrooms with the cowboy on his tail, but Cassidy pushed him further on. “No room for what I need to do in there,” he whispered breathily into Hanzo’s ear from behind, brushing his hardness against him in the act. “Let’s get on back to the cargo hold.”

Hanzo more than half-suspected that Cassidy had, in fact, picked up on the fact that Hanzo had been following him for days, but once they got to the cargo hold, the cowboy shucked off all his gear so quickly that it was quite believable that he was unbelievable horny, and he went so far as to lay down his cape-like shawl on the cold metal ground before he was gently pushing Hanzo down onto it, without giving time for Hanzo to pull off more than his shirt and unbutton and unzip his trousers.

That was all Cassidy required, apparently.

“Oh, yeah,” he murmured, sweeping the soft bristles of his beard up and down Hanzo’s sensitive skin as he crept up Hanzo’s prone body and nuzzled against his hard stomach and pecs. He paused to latch onto first one nipple, then the other, trailing his fingers appreciatively across the lines of Hanzo’s tattoo as he sucked hard. That should have raised some alarm bells, but Cassidy was soon attached to Hanzo’s neck and searching out its most sensitive spots, drowning Hanzo’s suspicions in the flood of sensation.

Then the cowboy captured his lips and swept his tongue into his mouth, pressing the full-length of his naked body into Hanzo, and it was hard to think about anything at all from that point on.

Especially when, contrary to Hanzo’s expectations, Cassidy did not hike up Hanzo’s ankles onto his shoulders.

Instead, he pulled away, smiling at the trail of saliva connecting their mouths and Hanzo’s dazed expression, before straddling Hanzo’s hips and bumping gently into Hanzo’s erection jutting out from his haphazardly unbuttoned trousers.

“Time for a ride,” he drawled, winking.

And, after working himself open with a small bottle of lube that he had been carrying…somewhere…until his fingers were squelching loudly amidst the hum of the train’s engines, Cassidy positioned himself over Hanzo’s cock and sank down onto it, sighing with real pleasure as he took the whole thing into him up to the balls.

“There we go,” he crooned, patting his hairy, flat stomach. “Nice and full, just how I like it.”

Then he began to move, to ride as he would put it, and Hanzo settled back, his hands behind his head, eyes half-lidded yet intense as he watched the tableau of the cowboy bouncing up and down in his lap, his muscles jiggling and firming in turns under his carpet of body hair as his white teeth flashed within the frame of his neatly trimmed beard.

Hanzo let him take the lead for a while, but he proved to be too much of a temptation in the end. He ended up sitting up, embracing the cowboy so that he could feel the texture of that hirsute skin over hard muscle, and thrust up into his fiery, silky interior, aiming to strike at his prostate with every long stroke, and making sure to trap Cassidy’s cock between their stomachs so that it rubbed deliciously against their skin with every movement.

“Ungh!” the cowboy gasped in very real surprise at Hanzo’s sudden onslaught. “Oh! Unf, unf, unf! M-my good, oh!, goodness, mister, you’re, ah!, really going to t-ungh…”

Hanzo latched onto the cowboy’s nipple, sucking hard on the harder nub, and that seemed to short-circuit Cassidy’s brain. He said nothing more that was intelligible, only grunts, half-formed sounds, and heavy breathing.

Hanzo grinned in triumph when Cassidy howled as his trapped cock erupted between them, coating their torsos with his hot cum.

Then his grin disappeared into a slack O-face as his own orgasm stole across him with little warning, crashing into him as he flooded up into Cassidy and painted his innards white.

He came to himself a few seconds later and found that he had buried his face into Cassidy’s heaving chest as he held the cowboy tightly against himself.

It felt really nice.

Too soon, though, they were disentangling themselves to avoid staining Hanzo’s clothes and Cassidy’s cape, with the cowboy gallantly producing a handkerchief to wipe down with.

His chivalry was shortly punished, however, by the fact that he only had time to pull up and button his jeans before Genji barged in.

“There you are, Cass!” Genji called out. “Finally! I thought I might’ve gotten the coordinates wrong or something.”

“Nope,” the cowboy replied conversationally, turning around and reaching down for his discarded shirt. "I was just…"

Then he paused and looked around in surprise.

Hanzo had had just enough time to disappear behind some stacked crates. Luckily he had been facing the entrance, and had darted out of sight when he saw it open, but now he was absolutely flabbergasted at Genji’s appearance.

“Just finishing up one of your ‘baths’?” Genji asked critically. 

The cowboy stared for a bare instant at the spot where Hanzo had been standing for a moment before he shook himself and replied, “Ayup. You’re lucky you caught me when I had plenty of wet wipes handy. I was stinking up the place something fierce. Better keep your mask on, though, I doubt it’s aired out yet.”

“Wasn’t even considering it,” Genji said with a theatrical gag, prompting a deep chuckle from the cowboy. “Anyway, is here a good place to talk?”

“Good as any, I suppose.”

“Right. I just wanted to warn you about my brother.”

“Your brother? Why?”

“I’m going to invite him to join Overwatch.”

Silence.

Then the cowboy sighed. “Then I guess you went through with all of…that, I guess. Must have gone well.”

“Not really,” Genji said lightly, sounding perversely amused. “We didn’t hug and cry or anything like that, but he’s interested. I just wanted to let you know that I told him to track you down.”

“Did you.”

“He’s been going around looking for intel, and who better to ask about Blackwatch than you?”

The cowboy chuckled darkly. “Just the thing I need. Another bounty hunter on my tail.”

“Glad to help! Anyway, if you see an unfairly attractive man with forked eyebrows and a blue dragon tattoo peeking out of his left sleeve tailing you, be nice to him, alright? Tell him what he wants to know, and he’ll be in and out with no trouble.”

Hanzo imagined that there was a short, stunned silence, but the cowboy almost immediately said, “Got it: unfairly attractive, forked eyebrows, blue dragon tattoo. Anything in particular you want me to tell him?”

“Oh, let’s see…tell him…not to get distracted.”

“Distracted? By what?”

“By you,” Genji shot back. “You’re exactly his type, but I know you too well. You’d whisk him away to the nearest motel and keep him there for a week. Maybe we’ll…you’ll get your chance after he joins Overwatch. Until then, keep it in your pants.”

“Alright, alright,” Cassidy replied agreeably. “I will. I promise. Anything else?”

“Oh, just who you might recommend he talk to next.”

“Ooo, that’s a good question,” Cassidy said musingly. “He should try to track down Jack. He’s still trying to pull off that ‘Soldier: 76’ bullshit, but if your brother wants to know everything, good and bad, about Overwatch, Jack’s the one to know.”

Genji sighed. “Too true, but I guess Hanzo should know exactly what he’s getting into. Now, where’s the dining car on this train? I had to jump on while it was passing the Moldovan border and I didn’t have time to get anything to eat.”

“Right this way, partner.”

And two pairs of footsteps walked out of the cargo compartment, leaving Hanzo to sneak out of and off the train at his leisure.

Jack.

Jack Morrison.

The fact that he was, apparently, the vigilante known as Soldier: 76 was something of a surprise, but Hanzo wouldn’t question that too deeply.

The fact that he found Jack Morrison balls deep in Gabriel Reyes was far more questionable.

Hanzo had tracked Soldier: 76 to Dorado, and, once again, his mark was marked by someone else, but whoever it was had been as slippery as a shadow. Try as he might, Hanzo couldn’t get a fix on whoever it was. He could only watch them follow closely on Soldier: 76's heels as he made his way through the cobbled, brightly colored streets of the city…

…and straight into a gun battle between rival gangs.

Neither gang was a match for one supersoldier, though.

It was actually kind of breathtaking to see how efficiently Soldier: 76 worked his way into the fray, taking out combatants on each side with relative ease until the survivors realized there was a third and vastly superior faction in their midst and hastily withdrew, leaving their comrades groaning and wounded on the ground as the wails of police and ambulance sirens grew louder and closer.

Hanzo, however, was the only one who saw Soldier: 76 punch one last gangster into unconsciousness before ascending the dark fire escape of a half-wrecked, abandoned building and disappear through a broken window, probably to lay low.

And he was the only one to see the shadow follow after him scant moments later.

It took a while for Hanzo to make his way over from his vantage point, his heart pounding and his veins singing with barely repressed adrenaline. He had to go out of his way to avoid the throngs of people beginning to gather around the scene of the battle, but soon enough he was climbing up the fire escape, too, bow drawn, listening hard for sounds of a struggle.

A muffled grunt reached his ears.

He leapt through the window, landing lightly and straightening immediately to train his arrow on…

…the nude figure of Jack Morrison mercilessly drilling into the plump, muscular ass of Gabriel Reyes as his torso lay across a dilapidated table.

Morrison had his eyes closed and his head down, sweat dripping off his face onto Reyes’ broad back, but Reyes himself was alert enough to notice Hanzo’s dramatic entrance, but didn’t seem particularly impressed or concerned about it. He merely gazed at Hanzo for a few moments, and Hanzo, at a loss, merely returned the gaze, until the older man rolled his eyes and asked, “In or out, Shimada?”

Then Morrison took notice, his head snapping up and actually yelping as he jumped back from Reyes and tried to cover up his erection with his hands as though he were a teenager caught in the act by an authority figure.

Reyes tsked. “Looks like Jackie here wants a break,” he said sardonically. “Well. I’m available. Want to get your rocks off?”

“Gabe!” Morrison hissed.

“Jackie!” Reyes mock-hissed back. “Either get back in there, or I’ll let Shimada have a turn. Your choice.”

Jack scowled, standing there with his hands clapped to his groin, his wet cockhead poking through his fingers.

Hanzo, on the other hand, breathing in the scent of sex and feeling Reyes’ heated gaze, felt his resolve begin to waver…

And he lowered his bow.

“That’s it,” Reyes said with a dark, hungry smile. “I’m all warmed up. Get over here and help yourself.”

Morrison was watching him like an ill-tempered hawk, but Hanzo paid him no mind as he set aside his weapon and shucked off his trousers, taking a leaf out of Cassidy’s book.

“Nuh-uh,” Reyes said warningly, clamping his cheeks together as Hanzo stepped forward. “I don’t do things halfway. Get all that gear off. Let’s see everything you’ve got.”

Hanzo shook his head, but he obeyed, throwing off the rest of his clothes.

“There we go,” Reyes sighed as Hanzo’s musculature was fully revealed. “Look at him, Jackie. Look at those pecs, those abs, that cock. Thanks for opening me up, but it looks like Shimada here is going to open me up a bit more, though.”

Morrison muttered something inaudible, and Reyes laughed.

Hanzo wasn’t paying much attention to their banter now, though. He was already caressing Reyes’ perfectly shaped ass, rubbing circles that opened and closed his crack, working himself up until his own cock was straining before he held the cheeks apart to reveal Reyes’ wet, winking hole, sloppy with lube.

Just as Reyes promised, he was all stretched out and soft and pliant, and Hanzo buried himself fully with only a little resistance at the very end, but Reyes breathed out and relaxed, and soon Hanzo’s balls were touching his.

Morrison exhaled.

Hanzo ignored him as he drew back until his entire cock was visible, shiny and coated with lube, before he plunged back in, and Reyes laughed. 

“Just like that, Shimada, but really give it to me.” Hanzo obeyed, and Reyes laughed shakily as Hanzo began pumping into him, slapping their hips together loudly as he drew out and plunged in fully with every stroke. “There we go! Yeah! Like that, Shimada, like that! How’s he look from back there, Jackie? I bet his ass looks amazing. You’ve always been an ass man. Drink him in as he rails me. You gotta want a piece of it at least a little, right?”

Hanzo felt Morrison’s presence looming just behind him, but he didn’t stop.

Nor did he stop when he felt slick fingers begin to probe between his own cheeks.

“Well?” Morrison growled, right into Hanzo’s ear.

Hanzo nodded wordlessly as he kept ramming into Reyes.

“He’s way more generous than me,” Reyes commented, looking over his shoulder with a sharklike smile.

Morrison wasn’t paying any more attention to him anymore either. He was too busy opening up Hanzo.

Hanzo didn’t make it easy for him. He didn’t slack off in his thrusts into Reyes, but slowly, eventually, Morrison had him speared on two or three of his thick fingers. 

He didn’t have any patience to spare after that, though. When Hanzo felt him stand to his full height and move behind him, a pair of strong hands grabbed his hips and held him still as his mushroom cockhead pushed at Hanzo’s entrance and popped inside. Then, slowly, with surprising consideration and care, Morrison glided into Hanzo’s body, pushing him forward until Hanzo’s balls were nestled between Morrison and Reyes’, and Morrison leaned forward, pressing his abs and pecs to Hanzo’s back and crushing him forward to lay against Reyes’ back.

“You owe me, Reyes,” Morrison growled into his ear, with Hanzo trapped between them.

“You just try to collect, Jackie,” Reyes shot back.

Morrison grunted, stood straight, and pounded into Hanzo.

He obviously meant to be so overwhelming that Hanzo would be forced to just lie there and take it, but Hanzo was a Shimada, and he was no pushover. He thrusted back to meet and equal Morrison’s force and then jabbed forward, on his own terms and under his own power, into Reyes.

Morrison kept up the power play for a few minutes, and the concentration it took to counter his onslaught soon coated Hanzo with sweat…but it also brought him close to orgasm far quicker than he would have believed possible, with Morrison’s thick length mercilessly working his prostate, but right before Hanzo would have shuddered and surrendered to the supersoldier’s onslaught, Morrison huffed in annoyance and stilled and admitted, “Fine, fine. You can take me, I give. How do you want…ungh.”

Hanzo was already fucking himself back on his cock and fucking forward into Reyes’ heat, chasing his completion.

He had the satisfaction of milking out Morrison’s orgasm first, though.

“Christ,” he panted, his hips stuttering forward of their own accord as he burst inside of Hanzo’s ass. “Christ. Jesus.”

Then, only then, did Hanzo grit his teeth and rumble deep in his throat as he unloaded into Reyes, his entire body thrumming from his prostate outwards under the force of his peak.

Reyes, on the other hand, just howled openmouthed as his own semen splattered across the floor.

Then Morrison pressed Hanzo forward this time, but loosely, almost floppily this time, and Hanzo was surprised to feel his soft lips panting and even pressing against his hair and scalp in awkward, open misses as he was once more sandwiched between the two supersoldiers.

After a few quiet minutes, Morrison again stood up, but he kept a hand pressed on Hanzo’s back, gently, surprisingly gently, keeping him plastered to Reyes’ back. Morrison slowly withdrew his softening cock from Hanzo’s hole and then dropped into a crouch.

“Beautiful,” he murmured. “You took me so well.”

Then, softly, almost tenderly, he snuggled his face between Hanzo’s asscheeks and began to gently sweep his tongue across Hanzo’s red, sensitive, sloppy rim, lapping up his own essence that was leaking out.

Hanzo breathed and wriggled slightly at the feeling, but he accepted Morrison’s apology and let him work his hole until he was clean.

Then Hanzo stood up and stepped back and aside, and Morrison shuffled forward and gave Reyes the same treatment, and the highly charged, erotic sight of him eating Hanzo’s cum out of Reyes' ass made Hanzo’s cock valiantly chub up again, though only to half-thickness.

When Morrison finished up, he stood to his full height and leaned forward to massage Reyes’ shoulders, slotting his own half-erection between Reyes’ asscheeks as he did so.

Hanzo turned away and began to redress.

Just as he pulled on his compression shirt and picked up his bow, Genji’s voice floated in.

“Genji here. I’ve got some infrared signatures, looks like two to three possible vic…”

He entered the room through the half-broken door that led further into the abandoned building.

Hanzo had his arrow trained on him. 

Luckily, he was next to the window, and it was easy to look like he himself had just arrived.

Morrison and Reyes, on the other hand, were scrambling to dress, bumping into each other and swearing and cursing at each other.

Genji, however, had his expressionless visor locked on Hanzo.

After a brief silence, he said quietly, “Brother. We meet again.”

“Indeed,” Hanzo said flatly, lowering his bow.

“Were you…” Genji said slowly, “also looking for Soldier…”

Then, only then, did he look over at Morrison and Reyes.

And he screamed.

“Oh! Ugh! What are you two doing?!” he shrieked. “Were you doing it?!”

“Shut. The fuck up, Genji,” Reyes growled.

“Ugh, aren’t you supposed to get less horny when you’re old?!” Genji griped, looking away and shielding his eyes. “Why are you always banging where people will find you?! Ugh! My brother even managed to find you! How many times does this have to happen before you learn?!”

“Fuck this,” Reyes muttered, and, wearing Morrison’s 76 jacket and mismatched boots, one of his, one of Morrison’s, he grabbed Morrison’s arm and dragged him over to the door, shoving Genji aside as he went.

“I’m so, so sorry, Hanzo,” Genji said, shaking his head once they were alone. “When I told Cassidy to tell you to find Soldier: 76, I should have warned you that he’s a horny old goat that never could keep it in his pants.”

“Yes, you should have,” Hanzo said shortly, hoping to the heavens above that Genji wouldn’t notice how his tented cock was refusing to go down in the charged, sex-scented atmosphere.

Silence decided as the two brothers looked at each other.

Then Genji reached up to his mask.

With a click and a hiss, he removed his visor.

And breathed in deep.

“Yep,” he sighed as he released the breath. “If I’d had my mask off, I would’ve known what was happening a mile away.”

Hanzo’s heart thundered in his chest.

Genji fixed him with his soft, merciless eyes. “Too bad,” he said slyly, “that we were a little too late, eh, brother?”

And he gestured at the slightly steaming pool that Reyes had left behind.

Hanzo’s skin burned.

“Imagine,” Genji continued softly. “If we had caught them in the act. Then we could have…” he trailed off.

Hanzo’s heart pounded.

Then, audible even to his ears, static crackled in earpieces that must be built into Genji’s helmet, and a tinny voice began speaking. Genji listened to it, sighed, and slotted his mask back into place. “Roger that,” he said, tapping the side of his head. “On my way. Out.”

Then he shrugged at Hanzo. “Duty calls. Have you…made a decision yet, brother?”

Hanzo shook his head, mutely, breathlessly.

Genji let out a single chuckle. “Well…I’m kinda running out of people to direct you to for intel. Maybe now you should just…observe. Our next mission is in Havana. If you happened to be heading that direction, you could see what the modern Overwatch is capable of.”

Then, without waiting for Hanzo’s reaction, he turned and disappeared out the ruined doorway.

Havana turned into an even bigger firestorm than Dorado.

That was to be expected when Talon was involved.

Things were so difficult for Overwatch that Hanzo was forced to step in, though in his own way and comfortably out of sight of both Genji and the rest of his team. He ended up providing a great service because Talon was not expecting any kind of rearguard whatsoever, and they were easy to pick off from the back going forward.

Once they caught on, though, things became difficult for Hanzo, too.

But Hanzo nearly had the last laugh as he let an arrow fly into the throat of one final Talon squad member.

Unfortunately, as they fell to the ground, they managed to set off one final spray of bullets that tore into his thigh…and the force of the impact was enough to nudge him off the rooftop into open air.

Crying out in both pain and surprise, he instinctively clawed towards the wall of the building, but it was out of reach. There was nothing else to do but hope his uninjured leg could absorb the force of a four-story fall.

It couldn’t.

Hanzo lay crumpled on the ground, his breathing completely out of control, his eyes darting around like a wild animal, his arrows scattered all around him.

Through it all, he couldn’t help thinking how stupid he was.

Stupid, to allow a dead man to kill him.

Stupid, to follow Genji into an active battlezone with no backup or plan.

Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“Over here! I think’s he’s in that alley!”

“Alright, buddy! Speed boost!”

And a blast of music rose over the distant, fading sound of explosions and gunfire.

And, at the bright entrance of the darkened, narrow alley Hanzo had landed in, two figures appeared.

Hanzo tried to snatch at a nearby arrow, unwilling to be totally defenseless.

Then, with a snap of recognition, he saw one of the figures was the former Talon agent who had claimed he wished to defect to Overwatch.

The other figure was even more recognizable.

“Whoa! Ho-lee-crap!” exclaimed Lúcio Correia dos Santos, the famous guerrilla DJ who had made headlines by joining up with the renewed Overwatch. “Dude, that was a gnarly fall, but don’t you worry! Lúcio and Baptiste are here to save the day!”

Hanzo groaned, but he was actually full of relief.

Nothing else would have saved him at this point.

The two medics carefully worked him over, methodically cataloging his injuries, which required a pair of emergency scissors to cut at his trousers as they hunted down every bullet hole and broken bone. Then they  moved him into the recovery position and prepared an emergency biotic field.

“Sorry about this,” Baptiste, the taller and wider of the two said, “but we gotta clean the wounds and set your bones so they heal the right way and we don't have any more anesthetic. Are you ready?”

Hanzo nodded mutely. 

“Alright, here we go."

Hanzo grit his teeth and didn’t let out a peep the entire time they washed out his bullet wounds and then jerked his broken bones back into place one-by-one. Not when he had an audience.

“Impressive,” Baptiste said with a small smile.

Then he activated the biotic field, and he was even more handsome while bathed in golden light, though that might have been the endorphins surging through Hanzo’s blood from the pain relief talking.

Then Baptiste nodded at Lúcio, and the shorter, more lithe, and no less handsome man crowded up. “Now, time for some sound therapy!” he declared, and a gentle, soothing beat was soon pulsing through Hanzo’s body, and he could almost feel his skin finish closing up and his bones knit together to its rhythm.

Soon enough he was sitting up and cautiously testing out each of his limbs in turn. He climbed to his feet, turned to the two medics and bowed deeply. “I thank you,” he said solemnly. “Without your assistance, I would be dead.”

The two smiled back at him, Baptiste completely professionally…but Lúcio looked a bit mischievous.

And he kept glancing down.

So Hanzo looked down, too. 

At his raging erection.

“Ah,” he said.

Then the absolutely all-consuming, white-hot arousal hit him.

He hadn't been this horny in years.

“It’s a common side-effect,” Baptiste said matter-of-factly, breaking into the fog of primal need fogging Hanzo’s thoughts. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Hey Winston,” Lúcio said, already tapping on an earpiece. “Where are you guys? You need anything? No? Are you sure?” he said while looking at Hanzo’s straining erection and licking his lips. “Alright, we’ll rendezvous with you guys in a while. We’ll finish up here.” He tapped his earpiece one final time and waggled his eyebrows. “You want some help with that?”

Baptiste sighed with longsuffering, but he couldn't disguise his interest even as he said, “We don’t have that much time, Lúcio.”

“I have a solution for that,” said Hanzo urgently, flexing his hands to keep from jerking off right then and there, "though it is somewhat unorthodox."

Both Baptiste and Lúcio turned out to be very accomodating.

After they had laid down on the ground and slotted their legs together, Hanzo slowly lowered himself onto their cocks as they pressed them against each other.

He threw his head back and groaned feverishly as their combined thickness. Both of them were already surprisingly large, and together they pressed against and stretched, stretched, stretched his hot, needy flesh…

…and he all but mewled when they popped into him.

"Yes," he panted as he ground down until he was fully seated, until they were fully sheathed. "Yes."

"Feels good, man," Lúcio said behind him, a smirk evident in his tone. "How's it down on your end, Jean?"

Baptiste, in front of Hanzo, between his legs, only managed a strangled gasp because Hanzo didn't, couldn't wait for an answer, but his expression of pure delight was answer enough.

Hanzo was already rising up and slamming down, and the stretch, the pull, the places the pair of them touched and warped and shaped deep within him…

…it was all so good.

The only thing better would be…

The image of Genji, maskless, breathing in, savoring the scent of intense desire hanging in the air…

Just like back in days long gone, when the two of them found themselves in a rare moment of total privacy, and they could…

Hanzo moaned and sank down, his cock dripping like a faucet as both the memory of his smiling, sweating brother and the pair of dicks within him squeezed and milked all the precum he had out of him.

He was so full.

He was so hot.

He was…

He was…

Cumming.

An absolute eruption, a shower, a fountain of cum sprayed out of his dick.

Baptiste caught most of it on his chest, his neck, his beard, his face, and his hair.

Everywhere, to put it bluntly.

He looked good, really good, covered in Hanzo’s thick, opalescent cum.

"Aw," Lúcio said sulkily. "None for me?"

Then he gasped as Hanzo awkwardly clambered and turned around, keeping the two of them inside as he turned to face Lúcio and started to fuck himself on their cocks once more.

There was plenty more; he could already tell.

He was already hard again.

In the end, he had more than enough.

Enough to douse Lúcio…

"Aw, yeah! Give it to me!" he crowed as Hanzo rained down on him. "Make me look as good as Baptiste! Heck yeah!"

…plus enough to douse himself.

"Mm," Baptiste purred as he and Lúcio eyed Hanzo’s dripping form with undisguised lust. "You gonna eat that?"

Hanzo groaned and lifted himself off of them, their cocks popping out of him with a wet, slurping sound. "It's yours," he replied with a tired laugh. He was finally sated…but he gasped when Baptiste and Lúcio all but pounced to trace every line of semen with their tongues, ranging over his muscled arms, chest, and stomach…and his oversensitive cock, as he gasped and writhed under Lúcio's enthusiastic attempt to get every tasty drop.

"I need healing!"

Baptiste and Lúcio sighed simultaneously even as Hanzo scrambled to his feet.

"I need healing!"

"Relax, dude, relax," Lucio said, trying to reassure Hanzo as he rapidly redressed. "He'll take, like, ten minutes to get here."

That gave Hanzo pause. "Aren't you going to him?" he demanded.

Baptiste immediately took the hint and started to dress, too, but Lúcio peered at Hanzo as though he wasn't sure he was kidding or not.

"Dude," he said slowly. "It's Genji. He probably stubbed his toe or something."

"You don't know that," Hanzo said coldly, so coldly that Lúcio actually held his hands up. 

"Whoa! Alright, okay, I'm getting up, I'm going!"

Once fully dressed, they set off for the end of the alley…only to find Genji slumped on the ground just outside its entrance.

"Genji!" Hanzo cried out, running to his side. "Evaluate him!" he barked at the two medics trailing behind him. "Find out what's wrong!"

Lúcio's eyebrows had all but disappeared into his hairline. Baptiste jogged to Hanzo and Genji, crouched, and touched Genji’s shoulder.

"Genji?" he asked. "Can you tell me what's wrong?"

Genji groaned.

Hanzo's heart twisted.

"I got a splinter climbing up a wall," Genji said, voice trembling, as he held out a metallic hand. "Get it out!"

"Okay, Genji," Baptiste said levelly, but raising his voice to be heard over Lúcio's cackling laughter. 

He wasn't laughing at Genji, though. He was laughing at Hanzo’s disbelieving expression.

"A splinter?" he asked sharply.

Genji looked up at him and his green visor brightened. "Oh! Brother! You're here! I didn't even notice you!"

"You didn't notice me."

"No. I'm injured, see? A splinter. Get it out, Baptiste, please! Hurry!"

"I am, I am," said Baptiste patiently.

He already had his tweezers out.

"What would Father think?" Hanzo muttered in Japanese under his breath.

Genji apparently heard him clearly, because he replied cheekily in the same language, "He'd congratulate me for finding a way to have a handsome man at my beck and call."

Hanzo reddened. "You don't need to do that." 

"Don't I, brother?" Genji purred. Then, switching back to English, he said, "So, you guys have met my brother! I hope he didn't give you any trouble."

"Oh, no, not at all, Genji," Lúcio said, rolling his eyes. "Entry and exit holes in his thigh, compound fracture in the left leg, broken ribs, and a punctured lung. No biggie."

Genji was quiet for a moment. "But he's…you're alright?" he asked softly.

Hanzo nodded. 

Genji nodded back, the visor blank but the motion hesitant.

"Well, I think my brother can help me back," Genji announced once Baptiste had removed the splinter. "You two head on without us. We'll catch up."

Baptiste and Lúcio agreed and headed off, both of them shooting heated looks at Hanzo when Genji wasn't looking. 

Genji himself leaned heavily on Hanzo’s shoulder. "I'm tired," he complained. "Carry me."

Hanzo groaned.

"I'm kidding, brother, kidding," Genji said. Then, he reached up and took off his visor, revealing his troubled expression and sad eyes. "Just…walk with me?"

Hanzo nodded.

So, Genji’s head resting on his shoulder and his cold fingers clutching Hanzo's arm, they slowly made their way through the sunny yet deserted streets of Havana.

"I didn't mean for you to get hurt…" Genji started.

"Don't worry about it," Hanzo interjected. "I'm fine."

Genji made an annoyed noise. "...without some backup," he finished sourly. "What would you have done if Lúcio and Baptiste hadn't seen you fall?"

Hanzo was silent.

Genji waited an impressive amount of time for an answer, if any, before he spoke again. "You're going to fight. Regardless of what side you're on, you're going to be fighting."

Hanzo still didn't answer.

"So maybe you should fight…in range of some medics. Alongside some friends."

Hanzo said nothing.

"Next to me."

The last words were whispered, and not against his shoulder, but against his cheek, and Genji punctuated the sentence with a lingering kiss on the soft skin just above the neat line of his beard, just below his eye.

Hanzo shivered at the familiar feeling.

He thought back through the whole adventure of getting to know Overwatch, from the moment Reinhardt dropped to all fours to the feeling of Baptiste and Lúcio splitting him open together.

Culminating with his brother, safe and sound and so, so desirous to see him safe and sound as well.

Hanzo sighed.

And he pushed Genji into the next darkened alley.

“Brother?” Genji asked.

Then he hissed with anticipation as Hanzo dropped to his knees and began mouthing at Genji’s groin.

Then he chuckled when Hanzo paused, at a loss.

He reached down and unhooked something, and a piece of armor more or less like a codpiece fell away…and his cock, thick and warm and hard as a rock, fell into the open air.

Hanzo breathed in the familiar, tangy scent and had to hold back something suspiciously like a sob.

Then he easily, effortlessly engulfed the entire length, the cockhead popping into his throat as it had before, a thousand times.

Genji trailed his fingertips along the sides of Hanzo’s head. “Yes, brother,” he sighed. “Let me slide home where I belong, deep inside you. Mmm…it’s just as tight and hot and perfect as I remember.”

Hanzo moved back until he could breathe again, caressing Genji’s dick with his tongue and lips as he moaned in response to his brother’s words.

Genji always had been vocal.

“Yes, brother, like that. You know every spot, every contour. It’s like coming home,” Genji continued, scratching lightly at Hanzo’s scalp, his fingers pulling slightly at the strands caught up in his spiky ponytail. “And every smell. And every…unh!...every taste.”

He was leaking heavily onto Hanzo’s tongue, and it was like drinking water in an endless desert, like feasting after weeks…months…years without sustenance. Hanzo felt sated and ravenous, drunk and perfectly, achingly alert as he lapped up everything Genji deigned to offer him, though he did so oh so freely.

He began running his hands up and down Genji’s legs, and they were different, much different, and alternately warm and freezing cold under his touch despite the tropical Cuban weather, but, grounded by how familiar, how right his mouth on Genji’s cock was, like they had been made for each other, Hanzo simply began to map the bits of exoskeleton and sinew and metal, reorienting himself and memorizing the terrain, making his first foray into a world both unknown and intimately, profoundly personal.

By the time Genji’s crooning words descended into wordless mumbles and moans and his balls pulled up tight against his shaft to bump against Hanzo’s chin, Hanzo had made his decision.

He had chosen a side. Genji’s side.

And Genji groaned and leaned forward and pressed Hanzo’s head against him, shoving back down into his throat to gift him his essence with a force and a warmth that made Hanzo sweat and squirm and close his eyes in sheer bliss as he drank his brother in, his nose buried in Genji’s dark, masculine-scented pubes, his chin thrust against Genji’s heavy ballsack, his hands cupping the globes of Genji’s ass, having predictably settled there for this perfect moment.

And he prolonged it as much as possible, staying firmly pressed against his brother even as his cock softened and withdrew back into his mouth, allowing him to idly tongue and play with Genji’s loose, soft foreskin as he continued to breathe in his sweaty, tangy, sweet scent.

The spell was finally broken by a crackle of static and a voice in Genji’s helmet.

“Mm?” Genji said, sounding slow and inebriated. “Oh. Yeah, yeah, we’re on our way. We’ll be there in a bit.”

We.

There was no need for words, then, as Genji helped Hanzo to his feet and languidly licked at his lips before pressing a soft kiss to them. Then, with Genji once more leaning his head on Hanzo’s shoulder and fingers intertwined, they made their way to Overwatch’s transport.

Hanzo was controlled enough to keep his head high when the transport door unfolded to reveal Reinhardt, Cassidy, Soldier: 76, a rope-bound, tied-up Gabriel Reyes in his Reaper persona, Baptiste, and Lúcio all gathered to leer down at him.

At first, Genji was shocked by and momentarily roused from his post-coital lethargy to indignantly demand, “What is up with you guys?”

“Genji,” Hanzo said softly, gesturing down at himself.

Baptiste had left his trousers in tatters in order to save his life, and he had just walked ten city blocks with his cock hanging out and his ass fully exposed.

“Still!” Genji fumed, glowering up at the knowing, familiar smiles directed at his brother. “Just…don’t let them scare you off, okay?”

“I won’t,” Hanzo promised.

He didn’t see any threat in the heated looks like Genji did. He understood exactly what was behind them, and he felt a shiver and a shot of arousal course through him.

The only thing that mattered at present, though, was getting an increasingly sleepy Genji bundled into a seat as the transport lifted off. He’d always needed at least three hours’ sleep after climaxing, and it seemed that hadn’t changed at all.

“I’ll take care of you when we get back, brother” Genji murmured, his head still on Hanzo’s shoulder, as he pawed a little at Hanzo’s chubbed half-erection before letting out a loud snore not even a minute later.

Hanzo smiled.

Then he carefully laid Genji’s head back against the headrest of his seat.

Genji would take care of him; he fully believed that he would.