Somebody had once told Jesse McCree that no matter what, everybody was beautiful. Underneath it all, the pain, the suffering, there was a beautiful person. He had explained to the young Jesse that as people evolve into their own person they create layers and put up walls.
Jesse hadn't understood what the old man meant until their humble cottage in the countryside was attacked. He watched as the kind, caring and considering man he grew up with was reduced to a snapping, snarling monster that tore through the invaders like they were paper.
Later that day Gabriel had told Jesse that around the young boy his walls disappeared, and that earlier that day he was forced to put his walls back up.
Clink.
He wore them to keep back the silence that crept into his life at every opportunity. His spurs chased back the quiet.
The wind whistled, playing with his hat. Mechanical fingers tugged the brim back down, covering the hurt in his eyes. His hat concealed the pain.
The corner of his red serape snagged on a gate and, irritated, he briefly stopped to remove it. The serape hid his scarred and flawed body.
Moonlight glinted off of his metal arm and he grimaced. It was a reminder of all that he had done, and would do. He thought back to when the old man Gabriel had to put his walls up to protect their cottage. If Gabriel Reyes had walls, then Jesse McCree had skyscrapers.
He scoffed to himself as he walked.
What did he matter?
It wasn't like the old fucker was around anymore anyway.
A wave of guilt washed over him and, for once, he allowed it to settle, mentally scolding himself. Gabriel Reyes had been good to him, he had only positive memories of the man. Such spiteful thoughts would not do.
The sturdy dark oak wood door swung open at his touch and he strode into the dimly lit pub, not hesitating in taking a seat at the bar.
"What'll it be?" The bartender asked, he had a rough, gruff voice that sounded straight to the point. He was a big man, height wise and body wise. His muscles bulged through the shirt he was wearing and his head hovered just below the ceiling. He had a thick white beard and a scar ran down one of his eyes, the iris was milky, contrasting with the dark brown of its sibling. McCree distantly wondered what this man would be like without his walls. His tone of voice seemed friendly, even if his appearance was, at first glance, frightening.
"Scotch, strongest you've got," McCree replied. He didn't come here to leave in high spirits. He came here to forget.
Jesse became aware that a man had taken the seat beside him and was observing his face.
"A picture'll last longer," he drawled lazily, not even bothering to glance at the man.
"A camera's memory will fade long before mine does."
If McCree were a dog his ears would have pricked up. Attention caught, he adjusted his position on the stool so that he was facing sideways. The palm of his hand cradled his face and his other one rested on his knee. The competition that flared in his eyes was unmistakable.
"Who're you to decide when a picture'll fade?" McCree asked, lips curled up in a smirk.
"If I take the picture then I decide when the picture perishes," the man explained, his voice made it seem like this was obvious, and that Jesse was stupid for not knowing. "My memory never fails me. Whether I want it to or not it will remind me of all that I have done."
"A'right smart guy," McCree said, he couldn't think of anything else to say and so just turned to the glass that had been placed in front of him. He nodded respectfully towards the bartender and pushed a couple of rolled up notes in his direction, mumbling a "keep the change." He was glad that he had a hat to pull low over his face to hide how much it was quickly heating up.
Just as he was cheekily glancing over his shoulder at the man next to him a bright flash blinded his eyes. He cursed quietly to himself, rubbing his eyes and blinking rapidly to chase away the white obscuring his vision.
"Wha-?" Was all he managed to say before the brightness finally cleared up, "What was that about?"
"In case I get amnesia," the man replied simply, shrugging his broad shoulders. McCree noticed for the first time a detailed tattoo running down his bare arm and across a plump pectoral. "My eyes are up here, cowman." He growled and Jesse felt his cheeks heat up even more. Sharp jaw, dark eyes, a trimmed beard. Small tufts of hair stuck out at either side of his head, they reminded McCree distinctly of wings. He shook his head to dislodge the random thought from his mind and instead nodded to himself.
He definitely approved.
"My name is Hanzo Shimada, by the way, if you were ever going to ask," Hanzo said bitterly, clearly not appreciating the attention to his body but not his actual self.
That attitude would have to be reined in though...
"Jesse McCree, pleased to meet you," By now his body had been turned round again to face the other. "So, Hanzo, any chance I could buy you a drink?"
It was dark when they stumbled out of the bar, arms around each others shoulders, laughing joyously and shouting in drunken slurs. Mind fogged from alcohol McCree assured the intoxicated Asian man beside him that he'd pay for a motel, completely forgetting that he lived nearby. They stumbled over to the motel, passing McCree's house and not realising.
That night they both lay in bed together. It was entirely innocent, they weren't even touching. They talked without looking at each other, the alcohol breaking down both their walls and allowing emotions to flow free. It was shared that McCree had watched his only father figure die before him, and then Hanzo had admitted that he'd killed his own brother.
Jesse didn't know how to reply to that, and while a small part of him felt vaguely disgusted, he remained silent, just allowing the information to settle.
Hanzo wasn't too bad when he wasn't constantly trying to push people away with stubbornness and attitude. McCree quickly found out that underneath it all he was only human, and that he craved human touch and interaction just like anybody else, maybe more.
He reminded Jesse of a cat, demanding, serious and always grumpy but also loving, tender and passionate. The night had started off with talking and sharing experiences. Along the way they had both managed to shuffle closer together until Hanzo eventually found himself cuddled up to Jesse's broad chest. They fell asleep like this, McCree's arm secure around the other's shoulders and Hanzo comforted by the sound of a steady heartbeat.
The sounds coming from both of them were lewd and filled the air.
How had it got this far?
Neither of them knew but both didn't question for fear that it would end.
McCree's head tipped back against the headboard of the bed as pleasure clouded his vision and mind. His fingers left indentations on the firm thighs that he clutched as they bounced on his lap. Hanzo was barely keeping it together, his desperate hands held onto McCree's shoulders as they were the only things stopping him from collapsing. With a shudder and a low moan he came, forehead pressing into Jesse's neck. He whimpered with need as the cowboy beneath him continued to thrust, jolting every time his prostate was abused. McCree stilled and he choked on a groan that turned into a quiet gasp as he pressed Hanzo further down onto his lap, filling him up.
"Jesus Christ..." Jesse mumbled to himself as he stood in front of the ensuite bathroom mirror. He'd woken up after that dream with a...problem to take care of. Was that the future? The very thought made his pants feel that bit painfully tighter and he hastily slid them down his legs, closing his eyes and trying to picture what he'd been imagining not five minutes ago.
"Jesse? Are you in there?"
Hanzo's voice was groggy from just waking up and for some reason that turned McCree on even more.
"Sure am," he thought for a second and then forced down a moan, "Be out in just a secon'."
When he was eventually finished he opened the door slowly and then strode over to the bed in what he hoped was a confident manor to mask any strange behaviour. Hanzo was perched on the edge of the bed, night black hair spilling down his back. Two stray locks framed his face and he was frowning.
"That was more than a second," he commented and McCree faltered, sensing the other's walls starting to rise. He rushed forward and knelt down in front of the other, taking Hanzo's hands into his own.
"It's an expression, darlin'," Hanzo's face only darkened.
"I know what you were doing in there, foul man."
Jesse noticed that Hanzo was dressed and panic started to set in.
"D'you want me to apologise, Hanzo? Then I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry, a'right?" He couldn't lock eyes with the man above him, not after what he'd just heard. "I woke up and I just had to, y'know?" God he was starting to babble now and Hanzo was looking grumpier than ever.
"Brushing your teeth before breakfast," Somehow the Shimada's face managed to screw up more, "Foul, foul man."
..What?
A sudden burst of happiness spread through Jesse and he crushed Hanzo to his chest, mumbling "thank yous" to God or whatever up there created such an innocent, unsuspecting man.
A confused Hanzo had trailed behind a victorious McCree towards a small cafe just around the corner from the motel and they'd eaten breakfast together, McCree talking the whole time. A small part of him was saddened to see Hanzo's hair tied back, he'd liked it down.
"I will leave now," the Shimada stated, standing up and making for the door. Jesse scrambled up, clumsily crashing into the door in his haste to rush over to it. Hanzo gave him a strange look and walked out. Holding a pounding head from where it collided with hard wood Jesse wobbled out, scanning the street for the Shimada.
He caught a brief glimpse of golden ribbon fluttering round a corner and raced over to it, rounding a corner and coming face to face with Hanzo...in the most literal way possible. It wasn't a scene from some romantic film, not even close. They didn't accidentally kiss or bump into each other. Hanzo was knocked to the floor where he sat on his ass, dazed. McCree staggered, using the wall for support as his hand came to his nose where blood was steadily flowing. The space between his eyebrows was glowing red where McCree had ran into him as Hanzo got up, standing in front of the cowboy with his hands on his hips.
"Fool," he muttered, taking McCree by the wrist and dragging him away. McCree stumbled but quickly found his footing. "You mentioned that your home was around here, did you not?" Hanzo scanned the houses, as if they'd be a sign saying "Jesse McCree lives here," hanging from the doorknob.
"Number 22," Jesse said and then groaned as he was violently jerked forward. The door was unlocked, this earned him a quiet "irresponsible fool" from the Asian man.
It had been an hour or so after the incident. With a bit of guidance Hanzo had managed to find supplies to clean up all the blood. Even though McCree was stripped to his boxers Hanzo kept it professional, only touching when he had to and not lingering. Jesse couldn't help but pout. His hat was gone but he didn't worry about his eyes betraying his pain for as long as they remained glued to the Shimada in front of him they'd reveal nothing but warmth. His spurs didn't clink yet the silence that occupied the room wasn't uncomfortable. He missed the presence of his serape on his shoulders and at first had shied away from revealing where flesh met metal on his arm but now was comfortable around Hanzo and had no trouble leaving it uncovered.
"I apologise for you running into me," Hanzo began and Jesse chuckled despite himself. A strange light lit in Hanzo's eyes and he gave the cowboy an odd look. The older was being completely serious and hadn't meant for it to come across as a joke. He hadn't missed the way Jesse's chest rumbled when he laughed, or how much the sound warmed him inside, but nevertheless he bowed respectfully and got up to leave.
In the blink of an eye McCree was up and blocking the doorway, flashing a cheeky grin.
"Shouldn't you stay a lil' longer?"
"No," Hanzo's response was curt. "Move, cowman." His arm made to grasp the door handle and McCree grabbed and yanked on it, pulling the disgruntled Asian with him. With the placements reversed Jesse pinned Hanzo against the door, a leg between his thighs, a hand next to his head and the other hand holding his waist. "What is the meaning of this, cowman?"
"The meanin' of this is that I wan' you in my bed, darlin'," he whispered in a low voice in Hanzo's ear and the man swallowed thickly. His eyes closed momenterrily and he let out a shaky breath before he took Jesse's face in both of his hands.
"It took you long enough, fool," he said gruffly and then their lips collided.
It was clumsy, it was uncoordinated and graceless but it got them into the bedroom and naked. McCree hovered over the man beneath him, hungry eyes darting over every detail, taking longer to drink in the tattoo on his arm. Hanzo squirmed beneath his gaze, feeling vulnerable and unprotected.
Jesse set about littering kisses along his collarbone, careful not to suck too hard in certain areas for, although the idea of hickeys showing everybody that Hanzo belonged to him and him alone aroused him, he didn't want to mark the flawless skin. He kissed across broad shoulders and rolled a thumb across a fleshy nipple sat atop a pectoral. Hanzo gasped quietly and Jesse paused just to check that the Shimada wasn't against his actions. When only receiving an extremely angry glare and a look that clearly stated "why did you stop?!" McCree chuckled, ducking back down. He got into a pattern of soothing the nipple down with the flat of his tongue only to then rise it back up with teasing flicks from the same muscle.
Hanzo was eager and his erection stood to attention, tickling Jesse's stomach every now and again until he gave into its persistence and his metal hand closed around it. Hanzo jolted, instinctively curling up around Jesse and breathing hard until he realised it was only a mechanical arm and settling back down.
"Sorry," McCree said, lips curved into a smirk.
"You do not look sorry," Hanzo huffed and then his features screwed up as McCree moved his hand. "C-Cold..." he managed to stutter but after a couple more strokes a loud moan spilled from his lips. Truth was it felt immensely pleasurable, but he didn't want to give the cowboy the satisfaction of knowing.
"I-I, I'm-" He was cut off as a pair of lips silenced him. This kiss was slower, more passionate, even if halfway through Hanzo grunted rudely when feeling McCree's hand leave his erection.
Jesse looked around and then cursed silently to himself.
"What? What is it?" Hanzo demanded, immediately thinking that he'd done something wrong.
"I'll be righ' back, darlin', just wait there," and he disappeared into the bathroom. Hanzo momentarily admired the firm buttocks that swayed their way out of the room and then awkwardly waited where he lay, moving round several times. Did McCree expect him to be in a sexy pose or something equally embarrassing when he returned? Was nipping to the bathroom supposed to be his cue to prepare himself for when McCree came back?
Hanzo panicked and wrapped himself up in the quilt, hearing hushed footsteps against the carpet. Next came an amused chuckle. "Now, Hanzo, darlin', what on Earth are you doin'?" Hanzo imagined that he was standing looking at the lump on the bed with his hands on his hips and a look of amusement but also slight confusion.
"Promise me something, cowman," came a muffled voice from inside the bundle of quilt.
"A'right, anythin'."
"I have never been with a man before, and so I want you to promise that you will be gentle," Hanzo held his breath.
"That what all this is about? Darlin', I was plannin' on goin' slow anyway," McCree stepped back and laughed then Hanzo felt the bed tip as he got on. "Now get outta there!" He said playfully, throwing the lump around on the bed for a little bit and ignoring hearing the distressed sounding noises coming from inside before unwrapping his Hanzo burrito. Hanzo's face was bright red and he looked grumpy, as per usual.
"What did you go into the bathroom for?" The Shimada asked curiously as the hardness melted away from his eyes. McCree grinned, dangling a small bottle in front of his face. This only proceeded to make Hanzo's face heat up to a new degree.
"Before I get all carried away...are you sure you want to do this here? And with me?"
Hanzo prodded the mattress experimentally.
"This is a very cosy bed," he finally deduced and his arms linked up behind Jesse's neck, pulling him down so that their noses almost touched, "And I can't think of anybody else I'd prefer to be with right now,"
Oh, fuck.
I am so far gone.
God damn you, Hanzo Shimada.
Everything moved quickly after that, a little too quickly for Hanzo to realise what was happening until a finger was lined up with his entrance and slowly pushing in. Hanzo made the smallest sound of discomfort and McCree was all over him, scanning his face for signs of further distress and asking if he wanted to stop.
"Continue you fool!" He snapped and McCree relaxed when seeing that he was still his normal grumpy self.
Hanzo took one finger quite well, and two...and three. McCree gawked at how he was taking this all in his stride, shaking his head in disbelief at how Hanzo greedily sucked in his fingers. Maybe this would be easier than he initially thought...
Before he knew it he had his erection brushing against firm cheeks held between his hands.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" He asked one last time and Hanzo growled, forcefully pushing back onto McCree's straining cock.
Jesse seemed more surprised than the man in front of him. Hanzo, meanwhile, made a strange sound of approval.
"You are quite large, Jesse McCree," he finally concluded and Jesse choked on a gasp. How could he be saying such embarrassing things at a time like this? McCree had been expecting cries of pain, tears at the very least, but Hanzo impatiently wiggled his hips and pushed back a little further.
After a quick reminder about self control Jesse started to move, coming close but never leaving the warm body fully.
"Gentle..." he murmured to himself.
"I have changed my mind," Hanzo boldly stated, "I would prefer it if you fucked me into the bed with all you have."
Jesus Christ...This man continues to amaze me.
"Now now, darlin', don't go out-doing yourself. I'll start off slow and then pick up speed, how about that?"
Hanzo first shook his head and pouted like a child but then huffed and muttered a "fine."
McCree kept to his word and started off slow, easing into a rhythm until he was sick of Hanzo complaining.
Ask and you shall receive.
He snickered to himself and pulled back to thrust forward with brutal power, cutting Hanzo off halfway through a sentence. He pounded into the virgin ass presented to him as Hanzo lost himself in pleasure, turning his head to the side as he was pushed into the mattress. McCree's piston hips shot forward and a new, needier, moan tore from Hanzo's throat as his prostate was struck.
"Fuck, Jesse, I'm-"
"I know, I know, I am too," McCree grit his teeth and stilled all of a sudden, pressed as close to Hanzo as he could get, feeling his velvety walls clamp down on his cock, milking him for all he was worth.
They stayed connected for a few more minutes and then McCree pulled out as Hanzo groaned.
"Come on, let's get you cleaned up," He mumbled more to himself than the man sprawled on the bed.
Hanzo didn't seem to be able to do much for himself so Jesse lay him back down on the bed once he was clean and covered him with the duvet.
Almost like he was a doll Jesse arranged the Shimada so that he was in the same position that they'd been in the motel.
"Uh, Han..."
"What?"
"Back in the motel, when I went into the bathroom, I wasn't-"
"I know what you were doing, foul man," Hanzo said quietly, exhausted, "I did it as well while you were in there."
Too stunned to speak further Jesse settled down, holding the tired man in his arms.
"Oh, and Hanzo, one more thing," he piped up again and Hanzo sighed in frustration.
"What is it, cowman?"
"You won't be able to walk tomorrow."