"Justice ain't gonna dispense itself." - Cole Cassidy

...in which Mercy has a breakthrough thanks to Sombra's intel, Cole beats himself up over last mission, has had enough of being at the mercy (lol) of Hanzo's sultry eyes (without acting on it,) and the boys finally get busy.

CHAPTER WARNING! ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) The rating changed from T to M in this one.

COLE

After the Deadeye incident, Angie had started to call him in for more frequent check-ups. He couldn't see the point. There weren't any changes, but he would never tell her off. Cole had learned throughout the years that she in her kindness needed to feel like she was doing something - anything at all - to help. He wasn't about to take that away from her. Hell, they were kindred spirits. Cole knew where she was coming from. That was one of the many reasons why they got along so well.

"Cole, just in time!"

Taken aback by her unusually cheery demeanor, a somewhat amused smirk played at his lips as he sauntered into her lab. Her eyes were beaming. Hell, it was as if she'd developed a cure for cancer. Truth be told, knowing Angie, he wouldn't be surprised. She was a miracle worker. Had pulled him from the brink of death a couple times and he wasn't the only one. Angie had one hell of a record.

"All right, then. I'll bite. What for?"

"Do you remember the memory stick that Sombra handed me? Research papers! Specifically, those O'Deorain had on Gabriel!" she said, Cole freezing solid. "I have done some testing and it seems perfectly plausible. With this, I can almost guarantee I can find out how to help him!"

He wanted to laugh, and yet, the sound remained stuck in his throat.

"Well, I'll be damned."

Sombra didn't have to do that.

...and yet she did.

"I have to do a lot more testing to be certain, but if this works, I can modify Ana's sleep darts with the finished substance."

"Always knew you'd come through given the opportunity, Angie," he replied, not lying. He had faith in her. Always would. "Now, if that's it... I've got a couple things to take care of -"

Angie pointed a stern finger at him. "Oh no. We are not done here. Sit," she replied, gesturing to the cot. With a fond roll of his eyes, Cole accepted his defeat and let her proceed. Had to try, he thought. The check-up had the exact same result. Nothing new. They fell into easy conversation. "There you are... and I ask you again to try nicotine tablets so you can get rid of that terrible cigar of yours."

"Ho, there. I'd take on the world for ya, Angie - you know that much - but I ain't cheatin' on her."

"It is hardly worse than having your fun with her until her usefulness is ceased so you can carry on to the next."

Cole barked a laugh. "With that analogy, I feel bad!"

"Gut. (Good.) Perhaps it is your conscience I should target. I will not give up on you, either," she replied, her smile somehow too devilish for an angel. Yet it was the same old Angie. Even so, it didn't last for long. "Is everything all right?"

Of course she'd noticed. She could read him better than most. Still, she hadn't broken him in that regard. So Cole rose to his feet.

"Nothin' to worry your pretty head 'bout, Angel. Just got a lot on my mind, is all. Don't stay up too late, now."

She sighed in exasperation. "Hm. Same to you, Cole."

With a tip of his hat, he left her space. She would indeed usually whack him over the head at the nickname, but for now, she let it slide. His stomach churned realizing he'd sucked the joy out of her like that, but by no means did he mean to.

Angie was too considerate for her own good.

Only after the check-up did he proceed with what he was on his way to do before dropping by her lab. Like any day he ran into Gabe, he took to the bottle. The Stetson at his side. He was a master at not letting it show too well and thanked Blackwatch for that. To the other Overwatch agents, he was just the charismatic and flashy cowboy with a mean shot.

The uglier parts of him were the ones he kept internal. Hidden. Behind closed doors. An alcoholic. An insomniac. A man bothered by phantom pains. A man with nothing to lose. A man that tried his best to ignore his past, but at the same time, taking the lessons learned along with him. A man who had no desire to settle down and start a family. Plenty of suitors, mind you. The trouble was that Cole always had some itchy feet despite how tempting it damn well sounded. Come home to the same man or woman every night. Belonging somewhere or with someone.

Part of him thought it selfish. Bringing someone else into the dangerous mess that was his life. He wasn't sure what that said about him.

Some of what he kept hidden slipped through the net, though. Cole couldn't begin to count how many times he was chastised for all the cigars he went through. The carbon dioxide output was enough to rival a damn factory in excess.

His mind kept bringing him back to last mission. How Gabe had stood over Jack like that. Knitted, clawed fists at his sides ready to strike, while simultaneously appearing vacant from the situation around him. As if they were the only ones there despite the incessant gunfire. A moment of solitude between those old soldiers. Gabe was clouded by anger. It was easy to see that. A metaphorical cloud levitating above him as he saw red whenever the name 'Morrison' popped up. Enough to abandon his orders to keep an eye on Sombra and Sigma alike.

Cole kept asking himself, 'Why?'

Did the hatred and spite really run that deep or was Gabe somehow aware that they would try and retrieve Sigma? That he let them take the astrophysicist with them? Maybe Jack was just an excuse. That was the hopeful - naïve - part of him taking precedence. If he could be brought back to them, then hell, would Gabe even want to? Cole wasn't sure. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to know.

Despite staring down into his glass, he didn't need to look up to acknowledge the faint footsteps. Genji, and now Hanzo, had at the very least started to make a slight amount of noise not to startle anyone.

"If we keep runnin' into each other like this, I'll start thinkin' you're lookin' for me."

Hanzo was still dressed in his combat attire revealing that he hadn't slept yet since the mission, either. It was a miracle that the man still looked awake and alert. Knowing his own eye bags were probably visible, Cole was well-aware he couldn't say the same about himself. Hanzo's response, back now turned against him and facing the kettle, was deadpan.

"...and yet I never fail to arrive first."

Not tonight, he was about to rebuke, only to halt in his words the moment he opened his mouth back up. The water was already boiled. He knew because Hanzo just pulled out a mug and tea bag before starting to fill said mug with water. The steam gave it away. Also because only an insane person would drink tea without hot - or at the very least lukewarm - water.

Cole cringed. "Always did seem to have a talent of turnin' it back on me."

"You are making it too easy."

"Now, that's a first."

It wasn't the first time he and Hanzo met in the kitchen at night. The latter usually there to make himself tea just as he did now. When that occurred, Cole stuck with a simple 'howdy' to remain polite receiving a small noise in reply. Didn't ask any questions. Being acknowledged was enough, and to be honest, Cole himself wasn't interested in conversation. Left the talking to briefings, missions, and debriefings. After consuming a bit more alcohol than usual, however, his tongue loosened just a tad.

Cole, Hanzo, and sometimes Angie were the only ones to stay up late at night. Genji if he joined her to keep her company. Like any other night, Hanzo was gone as swiftly as he had arrived. He discreetly watched him leave. Nevertheless, Hanzo managed to catch his eye over his shoulder under hooded lids anyway. Cole could've sworn he nearly stopped before he resumed walking. That damn look. Almost like an invite.

Part of him was tempted to follow, but he sat there for another fifteen minutes or so instead.

Everything was just a blur at this point and it wasn't thanks to the alcohol. He hadn't gotten that far yet in terms of blood alcohol intake in his current self-deprecating state. His mind worked perfectly fine. Too fine. He wanted to null it all out.

When Gabe stood over Jack, there had been a moment of realization that the latter might bite the dust if Cole didn't do anything. Become as dead as he was once believed to be before taking up his vigilante status as Soldier: 76, and yet, Cole had just stood there doing nothing. Frozen up to calculate options. Only thanks to a certain Shimada and his damn dragons was it a decision he wasn't forced to make. Somehow, someway, that pissed him off even more. To be robbed of the choice. Maybe if given more time could Cole have found out where he himself stood.

The archer was the bane of his goddamn existence. In more ways than one. Hanzo knew it, too. Made sure he knew.

All the damn innuendos didn't help, either. He didn't know how much longer he could take it. At the same time, he couldn't see, 'why not?' They were both mature - grown - men. There would be no 'teenage awkwardness' between them whatsoever if they finally jumped the hay and Cole sure had no desire to take it further than that. He, again, had itchy feet. Hanzo seemed to hate him and so him developing any kinds of feelings was even more unheard of. Hell, there weren't any downsides to it.

...and tonight?

Cole might need it.

No use lollygaggin', he thought, confident in his choice.

To hell with the 'prove it' bullshit that Hanzo spewed who knows how long ago. He didn't care. So before he let his pride overrule him, Cole knocked the rest of his glass back - stopping there knowing that he was still thinking clearly - and took Hanzo's earlier invite. In no way had the man managed to fall asleep yet and so Cole didn't need to feel bad about accidentally waking him up.

Besides, he was the one who offered.

HANZO

Hanzo clicked off his chest piece - leaving the haori at his waist - and pulled the ribbon out of his hair leaving only the elastic. His finished tea at a table, he figured to return it to the dishwasher in the morning as he was too tired to deal with it right now.

Ever since calling his dragons, he had absentmindedly been touching his tattoo at times. Fingertips brushing lightly against it. Even if the mild burn had mended entirely on his skin many hours ago. One might think that said dragons were always at his and Genji's disposal, but it couldn't be farther from the truth. They both had control over them, yes, but the spirits didn't take kindly upon being called mindlessly. They weren't pets. He used them as little as he could, not only for the sake of his own skin, but for the sake of them.

Were they used carelessly, the spirits could decide to leave their master. Hanzo had served them well and them him - he knew that - but were circumstances any different, the only thing keeping them at his side would be because of how connected they were to his soul. That they would feel forced to stay until it was repaired and the dragons alongside it.

In their current state, they were weakened.

More specifically, the dragon was weakened, not plural. Those that had seen how they took the form of two spirits thought it was a sign of power. Him being the eldest son. How he wielded two weapons - the bow and the arrow - being two crucial parts creating a more powerful weapon together. The truth was different. Hanzo merely had one dragon, but it was split in two just like his soul. They would remain that way until he found peace within all the turmoil, and thus, he accepted that they would always remain as they were.

Although his dragon wasn't at its fullest potential, it held a significant power. He would never shun or deny that. It had chosen to remain at his side despite his own shortcomings, and by all means of the imagination, Hanzo could be nothing but honored.

Yet seeing it - them - was also a reminder of how he had failed in more ways than one.

As for de Kuiper, the astrophysicist had gotten his own lab at Gibraltar. Just knowing he was free to walk the premise left a bad taste in his mouth. Then again, he wasn't one to judge. Not after what he once did to Genji. Hypocritical of him, he knew that, and yet it uneased him. Cassidy had been right that he didn't seem to want to hurt anyone, but he would never deny the potential de Kuiper had to be able to do so.

Worst case scenario, he was a Talon plant as well as a good actor, and thus the rival organization was one step ahead of them. With that in the back of his mind, Hanzo couldn't help but be slightly protective of Overwatch. Simply because it meant something to Genji. His trial period was now over and he supposed he was part of said organization now. Partly, at least. It was what he had been welcomed as. He felt more at ease taking orders than he thought he would as time passed, but he considered them suggestions, not orders.

...and so far, he hadn't been ordered to do anything outright foolish, so he fell in line without much issue.

There had been times when he considered other options, but managed to keep his tongue. Usually options putting himself in danger, which wasn't tolerated. What Overwatch failed to understand was that he didn't care.

The double knock at his door came as no surprise.

Hmph.

So the cowboy did take his offer.

Cassidy had been absentmindedly leering at him in short bursts for as long as he could remember. A mix of distrust and interest both. The vast majority of people wouldn't notice him doing so considering how discreet it was, but Hanzo was a trained assassin and ninja, so he took note of the smallest details that the common man or woman could only dream of. Admittedly, he had done the same.

Among everyone in Overwatch, Cassidy was certainly the one most easy on the eyes once dropping the cowboy hat he rarely took off. Augustin was a close second. Wilhelm a close third even in his old age. The rest didn't stand out to him.

Pulling a haori sleeve up to his non-tattooed arm, Hanzo was decent enough for anyone else to see him.

He opened the door, and as expected, Cassidy was there. Yet his gaze was far away as he looked down the hallway with a clench to his jaw and tight brows. Hanzo crossing his arms, he pressed his clothed shoulder to the side of the doorway, his head cocked. Cassidy's metallic hand was palming the wall. Letting his eyes fall, Hanzo saw his other firmly clasping that ridiculous belt buckle.

"You still offerin'?" he deadpanned, finally leveling him with a steady - albeit tired - gaze.

Not much unlike the one he leveled him with back at the hotel.

Eyes hooded, Hanzo raised his chin. "Took you long enough."

"Most folks bein' prone to pissin' me off tends to opt my brain to turn tail."

"Then why are you here?"

"Never been one to make good decisions without a gun in my hand, but truth is... I'm tired of you thinkin' you've got the upper hand, here," he replied, metallic palm replaced with a forearm bringing them closer. His southern drawl turned into a near whisper as lips ghosted Hanzo's left ear. Boxing him in. A chill went down the length of his spine as his beard tickled. Traversing lower - to his throat - Hanzo offered it. "I damn well know I ain't the only one wantin' this before we get back to rippin' each other's throats out."

He could smell the alcohol on his breath, and yet, nothing seemed to suggest he was intoxicated.

Amber eyes narrowed. "I offered, did I not?"

"See, I wasn't sure it was an offer. Just a hunch," he replied, lips now on his jaw. "I reckon I hit the nail on the head."

He would've lied if he said he hadn't thought of it. To have Cassidy squirming underneath him. The cowboy always seemed so confident. Calm and collected. As if he always had everything under control. Yet Hanzo took pride in seeing those walls come crumbling down by his own mere presence. Cassidy wanted him. He knew that. Had from the start.

With that, Cassidy repositioned. Them breathing the same air as lips brushed against this side of his. Seeking permission. Lightly, Cassidy's nose pushed into his cheek. One more tilt of Hanzo's chin had mouths collide.

As lips barely parted against his, Hanzo greedily took the invite, tongue probing through the opening.

Cassidy's approving hum was his reward. He tasted smoke and whiskey, two tastes of which he was familiar, but yet somehow new. Hanzo could tell by this alone that the experience would be enjoyable. The cowboy knew what he was doing with his tongue. Enticing. He welcomed the flesh hand to settle just above his hip on the exposed skin, Cassidy pushing into the kiss, leaving merely Hanzo's crossed arms between them.

It was only when he attempted to deepen the kiss further that Hanzo pulled back slightly with a wet sound to press two fingers to Cassidy's lips. Grey eyes opened before him, half-lidded still, but gaze beneath hard.

"Not here," Hanzo warned, turning his head away as he dropped his hand and turned into the room. "Come."

COLE

Behind the blinders, the moon shone calmly being the only light source. Could barely see anything. The calm being the complete opposite of what Cole was feeling within. The erratic beating of his heart was proof of that.

If he a week back told himself that Hanzo would take him to his quarters, he would've laughed. In one way, they were polar opposites, but their backstories were so similar that they managed to find common ground. He suspected that a lot of people would be willing to try their chances with Hanzo even if the possibility of getting chased by two dragons was there.

Cole closed the door behind them and felt delicate albeit firm fingers close around his wrist.

Hanzo tugged him in with determination. Next thing he knew, his back was pressed up against a wall, a cupboard arching up his hips just a tad as a hint of cold breezed through his hair.

His every other thought was silenced with the impact as he leaned down for lips to collide again. Hanzo sure knew what he wanted. Skilled tongue back in his mouth, he welcomed it, practiced hands at his serape, and wasted no time to separate him from it. His two own drew to Hanzo's triceps giving him free reign. Fire had already started pooling low in his abdomen back in the hallway. So when Hanzo reached between his legs - above his pants taking him in hand - his breath hitched.

"Jesus," he rasped, grabbing the offending limb.

Mostly to keep it there.

"Too much for you, gunslinger?" he asked, voice rough.

Cole gravelly grunted. "What, you see me complainin'?"

His movements became quicker, rushed, and rough as he pushed from the wall. It applied to both sides. Cole's flesh hand reached up to drag a thumb against those perfect lips revealing a canine as Hanzo scowled at him before reclaiming them with purpose. Firm, but not enough to hurt. It was obvious Hanzo enjoyed the slight force used as he sucked in a breath like a hiss.

This man could bare teeth at him for the rest of eternity and he'd internally thank him. He already had his left pec out, so Cole ripped the haori over his other shoulder - careful not to ruin it - Hanzo's firm body pressed up against him not leaving much room for complaints.

Feeling his half-hardness rubbing against his thigh sure helped as new heat surged.

There was a sense of loss when Hanzo's hand was removed from between his legs, Cole's cock still screaming for attention at the friction between them, but his protest was silenced as a thigh immediately replaced it. His breath hitched again against Hanzo's lips at the pressure added. Just having bared his chest like this - revealing that the tattoo nearly circled one of his pecs - made up for it despite barely seeing it in the dark. Gentle moonlight silhouetted Hanzo's frame. Never had Cole been a man of art, but... for this one, he made an exception.

Hanzo was warm to the touch - goosebumps forming on his skin - as Cole's flesh hand found the side of his waist. His prosthetic he kept palmed to the cupboard behind to keep himself upright.

Cole rolled his hips, hard, earning a muffled groan in response going right down.

He watched him briefly take a step back giving him a better view. Hanzo's hands were at his belt now, tugging, and only a little more effort was required to separate him from it. Damn shame he wasn't always on display like this. Then again, it made him all the more honored to bear witness. Hanzo was fervent. Determined. His dominant personality mirrored his actions.

With force, Cole's metallic hand found the rim of his toraichi trousers to tug him back in. The sleeve of Hanzo's halfway unrobed haori still rested on his forearm, and Christ, that shouldn't have been as hot as it was. It left his always pristine appearance unruly. Unkempt. Ravaged, even. It drove Cole insane. With his flesh palm, he brushed a thumb across Hanzo's beard as it moved up to cup his neck, the attached forearm resting on Hanzo's shoulder. He pushed forward as he was offered the right side of said neck.

Lips meeting the hot skin, Cole sucked a patch into his mouth as he held him in place, another muffled sound escaping from Hanzo as he pushed into him. Now that was a sound he wanted to hear again. The jingle of his unfastened belt echoed as its sides now separated. His zipper was next, Hanzo pulling it down, ridiculous how his fierce nature turned him on as much as it did.

"Enough stalling," he demanded, his rougher than usual voice a low growl.

One of Hanzo's hands slipping past the rim of his briefs and closing around his throbbing cock, he was freed from them, cold air washing over him only to be replaced by the heat of Hanzo's tongue as he dropped to a knee. Patience was neither of their strong suits. Cole nearly yelped as he did, involuntarily having thrust up his hips. Yet Hanzo wasn't deterred. His metallic hand back on the cupboard, his flesh one doing the same, he felt a firm grip on his thigh. Hanzo was palming the wall with his other. Steadying himself.

...and he was just as good down there as he was up top.

With a sound in the back of his throat, Cole closed his eyes tight, head thrown back to the wall. He'd hoped to get more of Hanzo's clothes off. At this rate, hell, he was lucky to last five minutes. Not because this was new to him - it sure as hell wasn't - but because Hanzo was too damn good. If you needed more than five minutes to get someone off with this method, you wouldn't be doing it right. Only with intent could it be prolonged. Slowing down. Ensuring that the stimulation wasn't too great.

Hanzo's practiced tongue dragged across the vein, his brows tight as always, Cole keeping himself from thrusting into his mouth when he took him in. Knowing Hanzo probably wouldn't be above killing him if he did surely played a part.

He knew from the moment he first saw his intense, heated gaze back at that base that he was the one in charge, those eyes of his pinning him in place. Nailing him down. Cole could do nothing but fall in line, and frankly, he wasn't about to protest. Only if Hanzo planned to throw him around like a goddamn ragdoll - expecting no resistance - would he speak his mind.

His climax began to surge.

Hanzo slid his mouth down until just the head was enveloped, and inside him, Cole unloaded with a muffled grunt. How Hanzo took it without as much as a flinch was more evidence that this man was a menace. One that would be the death of him if this continued.

Chest heaving, back of Cole's head still pressed to the wall with closed lids, his cock left Hanzo's mouth and he already missed it. A rising shadow loomed, and as eyes opened, Hanzo had the audacity to look bored - yet somehow smug - as he began to pull to his feet before him. At least he had the decency to return Cole to his briefs. Teeth gritted, Cole grabbed his chin by his thumb and forefinger pulling himself back to his lips just to wipe that goddamn expression off. Eagerly, he met him. Hanzo had a grip on him, all right.

...and it pissed him off to no end.

Cole's hand traversed lower over hot, tattooed skin to his abdomen to push him towards the bed, and yet Hanzo somehow led them both as a firm hand grasped Cole by the nape. Pulling him down further so Cole curved over his shorter stature. Adding pressure to joined lips. How much Cole wanted to release those goddamn locks from that elastic, but Christ, even the haori was still on. So were Cole's own armor pieces as Hanzo had only separated him fully from the serape. When did his hat come off?

He would've wondered where his glove was, but that one he had left in his own room before coming here. This was, obviously, a quick one. Not a 'stay overnight' experience. Begrudgingly, he accepted that. He took what he could get.

Right now, however, he was giving it to Hanzo.

Having Hanzo underneath him shouldn't have been as attractive, either. Palming the bed on each side of his shoulders. His neck too damn inviting to stay away from. How Hanzo arched it for better access with a small growl slipping out on occasion. With open-mouthed kisses, Cole worked his way down the exposed skin, Hanzo's firm hand at his shoulder keeping him down there for obvious reasons.

I suppose justice ain't gonna dispense itself.

Hanzo sat once his toraichi trousers were pulled down just enough, and as Cole settled on his knee between his legs, he put his mouth to work. Returning the favor. That was 'justice,' after all.

Foreplay had left him hard just like it did to him and yet the final push was needed. Hanzo arched up slightly on autopilot as his tongue made contact, but settled shortly. How he inhaled deeply as Cole took his cock in mouth sure did wonders to his body. The leaking of pre-cum was further proof he had been successful. Not that he ever doubted it, though. This wasn't his first rodeo. First time with a Japanese yakuza, sure, but that was about it. Hanzo was hot in his mouth as he worked his tongue.

Realizing he'd taken him in a bit too far, he nearly gagged, but recovered quickly.

He might've jumped the hay dozens of times in his life, but he supposed this was still pretty new to him. Had only gone down on a man a couple of times as most of his intimate encounters had been with women.

"Cassidy," he nearly growled, being warning enough.

Bracing himself, Cole managed to take his load with some challenge as Hanzo bucked under him with a small shiver. It appeared as if he'd been holding his breath as now his chest was heaving, too. To leave the always-composed Shimada Hanzo panting and unruly sure was an experience. Releasing him and swallowing, he tucked him back in. Only then did Hanzo let go of his shoulder.

"Happy to please, darlin'."

Cole had a feeling he was never going to get used to that, and yet, he had no complaints. He was just surprised he'd managed to keep it all in as he wiped his mouth with the back of his wrist anyway. The fight had left him, though. Sure was less angry with Hanzo now. He would show common courtesy anyway, but he had himself protest less as he grabbed Hanzo's hand to press a kiss to his knuckles.

Hanzo's tone was deadpan. "What are you doing?"

"As much as you get on my nerves, Shimada... I'm a gentleman. You did me a service," he replied, releasing his hand and rising to his feet. Felt like his back was going to kill him in the morning. "I reckon this is the best shot of us both gettin' through this without endin' up killin' each other. Mutual benefit." Cole re-attached his belt, threw the serape over his shoulder without attaching it, and grabbed his Stetson. Pulling it over his eyes, he set course for the door. "Let me know when you need a warm body and I might just give one to ya."

"Hm. Your offer is sufficient. My own is at your disposal."

Cole casting a glance back his way, Hanzo had already released and was about to re-tie his hair neatly back up. His expression was as unreadable as usual even in the dim light. That same bored look offering little context. He then looked up, meeting his eye between hooded lids, and Cole tipped his hat in return in a silent agreement before leaving. Sleep sure came easier that night.

A/N: What is done can never be undone (that's a Dark Souls II reference.)

I adore writing sex scenes. Can you tell considering that it took up 80% of this chapter including foreplay? Also, why does the word 'dispense' sound so sexual to me? No idea, but cheer's to that.

Fun fact: Only about 20% of gay men do anal and yet that's mostly what's written in M/M fanfics?!

Anyway... here's hoping that no one thinks chapter 10 was 'too soon' for them to CASUALLY sleep together. Thing is... what I have planned for this fic wouldn't work otherwise. A lot of shit is gonna happen - completely DEPENDENT on them having had casual sex at least once - and this fic is 20 chapters. I plan to write several sex scenes. The casual intimacy has to start at some point, or hell, I'll have to increase the chapter count even more (...and I seriously don't wanna do that as 20 chapters is almost 'too many' for me personally.) So that's where we're at.

I bear no ill-will towards you if you decide to hop out. I'm just glad you enjoyed the fic until this point. Thanks for reading! For those that decide to stick around, though... you're in for a wild ride. Have fun :D