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“What kind of bars do you think they have in Arizona?” Genji leaned back in the limousine, laying upon red velvet pillows of luxury. “I haven’t a clue,” Hanzo replied, irritated. He recognized how the heat stung outside, and only wished they moved past the state, only stopping just to rest in a hotel worth more than the car they sat in. He thought returning to California might do Genji good, as it was certainly more of a “party” state than a desert. They returned to silence, his brother humming the tune of a song that was playing on the radio. Hanzo wore his traditional yukata, straightening it slightly. Uptight, that’s what Genji called him. His brother often claimed that he was too formal, and told him he was unwilling to even build his own closet. “Brother, look!” Genji pointed out of a blurry window, then leaned into the front seat to ask: “Can you park over there? Please?” “Of course, Master Genji,” Sojiro had hired men to take care of the brothers as he could not do so for them. Their father had managed to squeeze himself out of the trip, money certainly not being the problem. He had come across what he labeled as “irrelevant and useless issues” that he simply had to tend to. Hanzo finally turned to where they were headed, revealing a bar on the side of the road. Half of the parking was taken up by motorcycles, all looking vaguely the same. There were some other hover cars, though not many. “Why this…run down restaurant?” “Run down? I mean, I think it looks good,” Genji responded, ogling the advertisements along its side. Hanzo spat, “It is nothing like what we have in Hanamura.” “Relax, brother. Not everything has to be like home,” he moved towards a door in the limousine, “Besides, it’s not like we’re going to live here for the rest of our lives.” The two stepped out from the car, Genji leading the way into the diner with hands in his hoodie pockets and sweatpants covering his skin. There was a piano somewhere in the saloon, and tables of wood strewn out with seats and what not. Hanzo stiffened, the reek of cigars and beer uncomfortably invading his senses. Genji, on the contrary, seemed to already enjoy the experience; complimenting the pianist currently playing. Hanzo, though reluctant to even sit, decided it was best to not make a fool of himself, so he chose to place himself at the actual bar. Somewhere to the side, there was a large group of people chatting up a storm. They were loud, all wearing matching jackets made of leather. They looked punk, but not wholly, and there were two of them who stuck out blindly. A woman with white hair and the most pungent red lipstick, who stood beside a man with unruly brunette locks and a green bandana; both with cowboy hats on and a particular skull design upon the back of their jackets. The man specifically sat with his legs parted, talking especially loud. “Do you have saké?” Hanzo asked the barkeep, in which the bartender poured a fine liquor in front of him. He took a sip, watching the world blur around him. Hanzo became distracted, with Genji occasionally coming over to talk. When he was alone however, the man he had seen pulled down his bandana to go and speak to him. “Howdy,” he said, “Fancy seeing you here, we ain’t ever seen you before.” Hanzo raised his gaze, “I am a traveler.” “Explains it,” the man chuckled, then outstretched his hand, “Cole Cassidy, pleasure to meet you.”“Hanzo Shimada,” he carefully took the hand and watched Cole shake it.The man sat down beside him. “Where’d ya come from?”Hanzo replied, “Hanamura, Japan.”“Sounds real fancy,” Cole said, “I was just raised in Texas.” They quieted down for a second before the cowboy went ahead and asked, “How’s Hanamura like?”“Quiet, I suppose.”“Sounds lovely.” Hanzo watched him as he spoke, looking at his peach fuzz beard and his sideburns. The Shimada reached for his glass, only to realize he had finished drinking it.“Mind if I get you some more?” Cole asked.The archer shook his head, “Kind gesture, though not necessary.”“I’d much rather be kind t’ someone like you,” he grinned.Hanzo raised his brow, partially confused, “And what does that mean?”“No need to worry yer pretty little head,” Cole replied, “Now, what d’ya want to drink?”“A refill, that is all.”Cole called over the barkeep and paid him to pour them their cups. “What’s it with me and meeting rich kids on my adventures?”“Rich kid?”“You oughta be,” the cowboy took a sip of his drink. “Ain’t no one from ‘round here orders saké. S’ mighty expensive.”“I would not mind paying you back if that is what bothers you,” Hanzo said.Cole tried to shoo the idea away with his palm, “Like I said, it’s no worry. You’re quite a fine wine if I say so myself, n’ I try to treat folks like you right.”Hanzo could try and decipher what that meant, but no matter what the other defined it to be he felt himself tense. His muscles stiffened, though not in the way it did when he pulled his bow back or when he straightened his sword. No; it brought heat to his face and an energy to his blood. Hanzo saw Cole grin, slightly crooked teeth bare and flashing. The more they talked, the more they drank, and the more he drank Hanzo felt loopy. He felt insane, as if he had loosened up like Genji had. So loose, in fact, that he let the cowboy put a pinched finger on his chin while they conversed. “You don’t mind me callin’ you pretty, do you?”“Not at all,” Hanzo grinned, “Perhaps I like the attention.”Cole smiled, pulling his hand away to point at a different seat. He led him aside, and other drunkards had begun pushing up against the bar. The entirety of the bar had just begun being filled by party goers by this side of the city. Sure, it was not the most downtown area, but certainly alive. Cole took a sip of his beer again. “Oh, Ashe is gonna be mad at me.”“Ashe?”“A friend who came along, she might leave me here to rot.”“I’d simply bring you with me,” Hanzo replied, “I certainly wouldn’t mind.”Cole leaned down to his ear, his sideburns brushing against the archer’s chin. “Oh yer something nice, aren’t you?” He pulled his hat down over the side of their faces that wasn’t turned to the wine racks behind the bar. He kissed Hanzo there, quick and quiet, licking his lips afterwards as if to savor it. Hanzo wanted to stay like that forever, facial features obscured by a dark leather hat. “Hanzooo…” Genji mumbled, words slurred and a hand on his brothers arm, “Think we should go home now…”“Call me sometime?” Cole asked, hastily writing down his number on a napkin once he placed the cowboy hat back on his head. Hanzo picked himself up in an organized fashion and took the napkin in his hand. “Sure.”—The ride back to their hotel had been a hell of one. Hanzo rested his aching head on the back of his seat and pondered very simply. He considered words that could define how he felt; Was it flushed or was it embarrassed? Hanzo only looked at the roof of the limousine for comfort. Genji, seemingly more wasted than the other, sat up and pointed.“How’d you like the food?” His brother slurred.“It was fine.”Genji chuckled, “You spent an hour talking to the cowboy. D’ya like him?” “He fared well,” Hanzo said. They remained quiet for the remaining drive, yet he flushed every time he thought about the evening. Cole Cassidy. Cole Cassidy. Cole. Cassidy. The name burned into Hanzo’s brain, a visualization of the man’s face ingrained into his memory. Fresh sideburns growing out, tanned brown skin. Cole told him about his birth country, El Salvador, and how the sun hit their palms like blessings. He had nodded along then, complimenting the culture because it truly was pretty. In reality, he had nervously glanced around Cole’s figure, looking him up and down for an unknown reason. What did Hanzo feel? He considered this once more, tapping his index finger on his left arm. They finally arrived at the hotel they stayed in, Genji stumbling past the clean reception desk with his brother following behind. They parted ways from the lavish elevator to their individual suites, and Hanzo slumped over his bed with his phone in one hand and the sticky note in the other. The Shimada decided to text Cole, because what harm could it possibly bring?What should he text? A simple hello or an image? It was very stressful:
H: Hey
Hanzo held his breath until his phone ticked:
C: Heya <3
H: Cole, yes?
C: Course! This Hanzo?
H: Yes, just wanted to know how you’ve been.
C: I’ve been good lol, glad you texted me. Had me scared you’d leave me hangin’.
The man responded to Cole a lot faster than he’d expected himself to.
H: I would never.
C: Thank christ. You busy tomorrow?
H: Not really, no
H: Why?
Here, Cole sent a street address.
C: We could walk round Deadlock Gorge, spin by the Panorama diner if you’re hungry.
C: Thoughts?
Hanzo, almost desperately, typed in agreement. He was very intrigued by the cowboy and his motorbikes, his “gang”. They were called the Deadlock Rebels, Cole talked about them like only a friend group and not criminals, but who was Hanzo to say? He had mentioned Ashe while pointing at the white haired girl sitting in a booth; and Fireball, the kid with loose curls and brown skin that couldn’t talk English very well; Jet, the pianist at the bar whom Genji took a liking to; Jamie was another, and B.O.B, so on and so forth. They kept talking until after Cole sent some pictures of himself, rather charming ones at that (though Hanzo could not tell if he was delusional or they were meant to be good looking). Cole had then replied:
C: I’m getting real tired tho, sweetheart.
C: Nighty
H: Goodnight
C: Cya tomorrow at 5 <3!
And maybe Hanzo almost fainted. He felt like a teenage girl getting talked to by her crush, which was a rather embarrassing emotion. He didn’t like how he thought of the photos, or the quick kiss they shared at the bar. He had just met the man yet Hanzo had nearly thrown his phone across the room. The swordsman set it down on the expensive charger, booting up a flickering, holographic screen that indicated the percentage. The Shimada tossed and turned, restless with no explanation. He opened his phone again, this time using the hologram that once demonstrated a lightning bolt. Nearly out of instinct, Hanzo opened the texts between him and Cole, more specifically the ones with photos attached. Cole Cassidy with his growing beard and his unruly hair, his earthen eyes and his flush skin. The archer felt himself warm up as he scrolled through photos of Cole and Fireball, Cole and Ashe, Cole alone. The ones where he was alone were the prettiest, a fine selection of half lidded eyelashes and small grins. Had he been this sweaty? He gasped for air once he realized how hot it was, maybe it was the Arizona weather? Hanzo lunged forward on the bed, uncomfortable and set under a blistering heat that seared at his skin. More importantly, it boiled what he realized to be his groin. Had the Shimada been drugged? He wanted to believe that he had, this horrible, crowing and burning need now begged to be sated, yet, Hanzo only stiffened his posture. He leaned back, painfully and unwillingly awake repeating things to himself. Sleep it off, he thought, Go to bed. His dick instead cried a compromise: It wouldn't hurt so long as he thought of anything but Cole. Hanzo sunk into the bed sheets, biting his inner cheek and resting his hands as far from his chest as he could. He felt his long and thin strands of black hair laying over the pillow covers, his fingernails twitching above them. It was as if he had no control over his brain. Every fifteen seconds he would try to think of something else; how he missed the hilt of his sword and the bow he had only now begun picking up, or Hanamura’s swaying trees. But even thought of home would lead Hanzo to consider the possibility of bringing Cole along–the cowboy had engulfed him with his intoxicating accent and heavy breaths. The archer was very keen on how his pajamas loosely hid his erection, yet somehow the friction of both his boxers and the soft fabric pulled at his tip. Hanzo wanted to pick his eyes out, gauge them from his skull by hand because then he’d feel something different. He hissed as he flexed the muscles in his palms, trying his damndest to somehow will away his panting lungs. Hanzo covered his mouth, involuntarily bucking his hips against his own pants and into the open air. He groaned into his palms, feeling wild and untamed as he slumped his shoulders to roll himself onto his chest. Cole Cassidy. Cole Cassidy. Cole. Cassidy. The swordsman twitched at the feeling, bursts of positive reactions from the tendons along his spine as Hanzo succumbed to overstimulation. This was all new, fresh and burning under the whole of his tongue. Normally, Hanzo would only get horny on a whim, and therefore it was much easier to handle. But this? This was fueled by an hour-long conversation over saké and beer, as well as Cole’s amorously toned messages. His vision was hazy, his breath staining the corners of his lips with saliva and groans muffling themselves in between the pillows. Breathlessly he twisted into the mattress, pathetic little murmurs under his skin. Hanzo thought of Cole’s stubble, his brown eyes, his calloused skin. He thought of the moment in which the cowboy’s hand had brushed against Hanzo’s chin, and perhaps Hanzo also considered other places that those fingers could reach. It was all overwhelming, the way he fell weak to the humidity in the air and the roughness of his brain combined only to torture him. It was a mindless rut Hanzo mimicked, unwilling to become conscious of his actions. He begged to the empty air for something it could not bless him with until he could not beg any longer. Messily. Harshly. Those two words could quite succinctly describe how Hanzo came down from his high. Exhaustion overcame his willpower to get up and wash, perhaps tidy the bed with his swift movement. The hologram still blinked, the only light over his muscles a blue hue that it took in the absence of the overhead lamp. Hanzo felt like a godless man, though that was hardly a concern to his faltering brain. Swaddled in the drain it took upon his facade–his breath and his feverish vigor–he relaxed the tension on his shoulders and thighs.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
When morning came, Hanzo did not wake up. Instead, he remained in bed until noon, hardly budging from his position until his bones chose to churn. He groaned awake, regretting his poor decision making. Genji would’ve blamed it on his own age, his drinking, anything but himself. But maybe Hanzo would try that, though young and stupid felt more insulting to Hanzo than it ever would to Genji. He got up and somehow moved enough that the hologram turned on with a quick flicker. Message in Inbox from Cole Cassidy.If you would believe that he hesitated, he did. Flexed his fingers a little longer, pressed his lips together a little tighter, and widened his eyes for a moment before he opened the message.
C: Good morning <333
Hanzo’s conversations with Kiriko informed him that the heart created a perfect angel number, though it was hard to believe it meant anything.
H: Good morning, Cole
C: How’d you sleep, darling?
H: Just fine, I only now woke up
C: Oh I wish I was you, bundled up in some hotel. I’ve got Ashe here bein’ loud at 8 in the morning, can’t stand her n’ her noise.
Hanzo laughed a little.
H: She rubs off on you
C: Well don’t treat me like that now
C: Oh, btw, Jet’s asking for Genji’s number
C: Sorry if that's weird, he’s been obsessed for the past night. Ain’t talking even a bit about anything else.
H: Of course, it is my brother we are talking about.
Hanzo gave him the courtesy of passing along the contact information. It made Hanzo chuckle a little. He decided he would at least let Genji know, and so he got up and finally showered. He tossed the garments into the laundry basket, which he now noted he would do himself. Hanzo quickly showered, briskly letting the cold water hit his shoulder blades and flow down his long hair. He got out of the shower and got ready, though that was much more difficult than he expected. He sat in a bathrobe, eyeing at his closet curiously and indecisive of what he should wear. There was hardly a knock at his door before it slammed open.“Hanzo, You will not believe who texted me–” The man turned to his brother to cut him off, “Jet?”“Yeah, how’d you know?” Genji barked, not appearing hungover, though Hanzo wouldn’t be surprised if he was. “He asked for your number.”“You had his and didn’t tell me?” He replied, “You’re a fraud, Hanzo, a fraud–”“No,” Hanzo leaned back onto the bed frame. “I have Cole’s, and Jet asked through him.”Genji sat down, crossing his legs in the process, “Who on earth is Cole, the cowboy?” “Yes, the cowboy.”“Oh, he’s the one you really liked, wasn’t he?”“You are truly infuriating, Genji.” The other chuckled at the comment, and the two quickly quieted down the more Hanzo stared at the closet. There were suitcases on the floor as well, clothes neatly tucked away inside. Genji cocked his head to the side, “Are you going out? Thought you’d stay in with me and Kiriko since we’re going to the pool downstairs. By the way, have you seen it? They’ve got a big jacuzzi and I’m talking big–”“Cole invited me on an outing,” Hanzo sighed, “I wish to go with him.”Genji raised an eyebrow. “So a date? Never thought I’d hear something like that coming from your mouth.”“Well, I’m not so sure about it being a date–”“I hardly have memory of the night before and yet you laughed with him like a madman. Hanzo Shimada laughed with a man he just met. I bet it’d be the top story in the news.”“That certainly doesn’t decree that Cole Cassidy invited me on a date. Simply put I was drinking, that’s all.”Genji pressed his knuckles into the side of Hanzo’s arm, “What else could you describe it as? You can’t excuse it as an occasion between two friends, at least not with how he talked to you at the bar. Did you think I didn’t hear snippets?”“God, just pick a set of clothes, Genji!” “Okay, okay!” The younger man leaned over to properly analyze the contents of the closet. In two minutes, he picked out a set of leather pants, a turtleneck, and a jacket for the cold air during a desert night. Genji began to talk again: “This should work. Maybe put your hair up if you’d like.”“Very well,” Hanzo nodded, “Anyhow, what are they serving for lunch?”His brother stretched as he stood up, “Uhm, I think like…burgers? Something violently American, I assume.”“Then I’ll eat the burgers,” He reached for the bathroom door, then turned to Genji once more. “Now out.”“But–”“Out.”“Fine! Fine, I’ll leave, I’ll leave…”— The hamburgers were good. Delightfully so, tied in with a soda that felt cleaner than most found in gas stations. Hanzo had gotten dressed, remaining impatiently in his room. He would get up occasionally to answer the door for room service, or Genji, and once in a while Kiriko would pop in asking if he had something of hers. He’d brush his hair carefully, yet later he’d become restless and mess it all up again. The swordsman kept himself busy, one way or another.Message in Inbox from Cole Cassidy.Was it 5 already? Saying his worries overwhelmed him was a great excuse to instantly flick open their texts. It was not 5, rather exactly 4:28 PM.
C: D’ya want me to pick you up?
C: I got a fine motorcycle, if you wanna take a spin.
Hanzo was a little astounded. A spin on a motorcycle. A spin on an American gang member’s motorcycle? It sounded like an old movie from the mid 1900s, not an experience Hanzo would soon have.
H: I don’t see why not.
C: I’ll come around then sweetheart
C: Your hotel, if you will?
He sent Cole the street number.
C: Christ, you really are rich huh?
C: That’s the fanciest looking hotel I’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing.
Hanzo chuckled, and then replied:
H: If you’d like, when we come back I’ll show you around.
C: They allow that?!
H: Of course they do, Cole.
C: Well then, honey, I'd be damned if I didn’t say yes.
H: Then I shall wait for you here.
C: Oh I won’t keep you waiting.Twenty long minutes passed by. It was as if the hours had chosen to let Hanzo Shimada wallow in his young misery. Stressfully, he paced around over from his bed to the balcony he kept closed. Maybe he’d open it up later, or maybe he’d keep it how it was. Hanzo’s phone ticked.
C: I’m right outside.
C: Come when you’re ready.
He held his bag close, looking in one of the mirrors along the wall to assure himself of his appearance; Long hair tied together loosely that currently lay on his shoulders, his hooked nose smooth and lacking blemishes. Hanzo left his room, locking it behind him. He then walked into the elevator, holding his breath as it slowly descended. Outside of the elevator and into the roundabout in which most chauffeurs would pick up and drop off their clients, there was a hovering motorcycle behind one of the luxury cars. Cole Cassidy sat upon it, leaning forward in a fine black button up and his leather jacket that hung from his hips. He still wore the cowboy hat, and his belt was rigid on his waist. Hanzo called out to him.“Cole?”The man took a second to look around, jutting his face forward to yell, “Hanzo!” Hanzo walked over to the motorbike. “It’s nice seeing you again.”“Awe, I’d hope,” Cole replied, starting up the vehicle as the other sat down. Hanzo grasped at the small amount of seat in between the two, in which the cowboy moved his gloved hands down to bring Hanzo’s palms to Cole’s waist. “Connotation ’s cute and all but trust me when I tell you that you’ll need to hold on.”“That’s, erm, alright. Where exactly are we headed?” Hanzo ducked down, “I know you sent the actual location, yet…”“Nowhere in particular,” He shrugged. “Ever heard of a joy ride?” He shook his head no. “Never.”“Well, maybe it’s best to show ya’ what I mean.” The motorcycle’s engine hissed as it picked up, Cole swerving to move nimbly in between the cars. “Now, you ain’t scared of bein’ reckless, are you?” He yelled behind himself.“Why is that?” Hanzo winced at the wind that pricked his eyes. “Oh, ‘cause it’s mighty lawless where I’m from, darling,” Cole said. It roared as they spun out of the hotel, the muscle’s in the cowboy’s fingers tensing up and holding onto the hand clutch carefully. Here, Hanzo was able to feel what it was like to fly. In the limousine, there was far too much cushioning and too many walls that confined Hanzo into forgetting that the car floated on the road. On the bike, he felt the oxygen around him–every single molecule accounted for–breathlessly run beyond his skin. The humming of the magnets that replaced wheels, the roaring of the engine a hoard of wolves and teeth. Was this the teenage dream that Genji talked about? Was this really why his brother hardly cared about the Shimada Empire?Hanzo held on tightly to the young man's waist. He feared if he let go that he would return to the quiet he rested in with his life in Hanamura; that he would go back to the garden's safety and forget about it all. Cole laughed. Cole cackled in front of him, tossing his head back upon the side of the road. When the archer refocused his view he saw how open the mountain was: Open desert below rows of crooked boulders and sandstone. The open air rushed through Hanzo’s hair, and he leaned into the cowboy a little more. He felt awake, alive; every adjective became synonymous with breathing. Boldly, he kissed the side of the head that threw itself backwards in cheer. Hanzo was drunk on the air pressure, and for a moment he let himself not care. The sun still hung above the desert, and Cole pulled the motorbike to a stop. There was an open area to look out upon, a few rusting benches and stationary binoculars that required quarters to pay for. Cole pointed to the clearing. “This is where I hang out most of the time, so, my apologies if you see any leftover cigs.”Hanzo chuckled and asked, “Do you drink here as well?” “Sometimes we bring booze over, which reminds me,” The man leaned over for the metal basket that was tied to the motorcycle. “Brought something nice from the gorge.” Inside the basket, a 6 pack of carbonated beer that seemed sweeter than what Cole had gotten in the bar. The gunslinger lifted the box over his shoulder and gently laid it on one of the benches. Hanzo sat down, and the other man followed in his stead. The two opened the bottles, and the swordsman felt bubbles on his chin, writhing and foaming. He leaned on Cole’s shoulder, and Cole ran his mouth again.“You like it?”“Yes,” Hanzo smiled. “I didn’t expect to, if I’m to be honest.”“Good, good,” The other man chuckled, “I was worried. You don’t look like a beer drinker, n’ Ashe said something sweet might do. Oh Ashe, it really is a 50/50 with her.”“What do you mean by that?” He inquired, tilting his head.“I mean that she’s like a…a coin flip. It’s either her advice is worth wonders or–it’ll get you shot in the back of the head,” Cole said. Hanzo stretched his neck up. “It’s not all that bad, is it?”“No! No, it’s never been,” the cowboy shook his head no as if out of instinct. “She’s kind, believe me. Picked up me n’ Fireball off the street, right outta jail too.”“Jail?”“Oh nothing, darling,” Cole tapped his fingers on Hanzo’s thigh, “Youthful avidity, I suppose. It wasn’t anything big, just some misdemeanor that the sheriff decided was enough.”“I’d hope,” Hanzo laughed, “you know, my father has too many friends in our police force for anything to happen to us.”“I mean yeah, you reek of money. Bet you could pay off my debts.”“Mayhaps I could.”Cole sighed, “Naw, it’d be selfish to just take things from you like that.”“I am aware of how expensive things get in America. I certainly wouldn’t–”Cole leaned over and kissed his mouth shut, leaving Hanzo wordless for a moment longer, “Enough of that money talk. Honey, if we’re gonna stay like this then I’m gonna need you to stop offering all…all that.”“Besides,” he kissed him again, “you taste like beer.”Perhaps the alcohol had been too good, because Cole tasted of it too. They kissed again, for quite a little longer. By now it had most certainly meant Genji had been right, they were on a date together, weren’t they? They kissed messily, in which the cowboy grabbed at the other's waist and pulled them closer. Mouth to mouth they remained, only pulling away to take another sip of the beer. “It’s good, yeah?” Cole pressed his lips to the space underneath Hanzo’s chin. The man let him, running his hands through the other’s hair. The more Cole pecked at his neck the more Hanzo forgot about his surroundings. He gently pulled him up to kiss him properly, then Cole stood up. “Darling, y’ said you’d show me around that nice Hotel.”“I did, didn’t I?”Cole muttered into his ear, “Think it’d be nicer than a motel.” —The drive home was an impatient one. Hanzo could not get enough of Cole, and Cole only batted away his hands to say: “Let me focus on the road, love.”When they arrived at the hotel, Hanzo used his key to let Cole into the parking lot. When the two got up from the motorcycle, they stumbled to the glass doors and pushed them open. Quietly, they walked into one of the elevators, leaning on the glass walls and standing beside each other. Hanzo watched Cole stare at the pool way below them. There were crystal chandeliers hanging in the open hallways, lush plants lining the balconies with flowers and leaves. They snuck a few kisses in until the doors hissed in warning. Hanzo led him around pointing out a few places they might visit after: “There’s the pool and its open bar, but I’ve had enough drinks for the night.”“How so?” Cole looked concerned.Hanzo chuckled, outstretching his palm to the door handle. “I’ll lose my sense of self at some point, but at least now I am very aware.” He unlocked the suite and let Cole in, only turning to lock it once more. “Jesus, this is bigger than I thought,” Cole muttered, moving through the room and towards the balcony that showed an outer view onto the road and neighboring buildings. Cole firmly stepped on the carpet, and was careful near the bed. “God, you might be richer than Ashe’s parents.”“What a compliment.” Hanzo sat down on said bed and gestured to the open air. They silently moved, and Cole crawled over to him through the sheets. Kissing once more, Hanzo ran his fingernails along the sides of his waist. The flavor of the beer they had drunk had faded into a light sugary burn upon Hanzo’s throat. He was reminded of the night before, in this very bed, however Hanzo was alone then and only thinking of the hands that grabbed at his hips and the tongue playing with his mouth. Cole placed his weight upon his arms to move himself lower, trailing around his neck with lip and tongue. He bit, though weakly, at Hanzo’s collarbones and his ear. Hanzo did work as well, moving his hands over to Cole’s button up and working the buttons off. Cole grabbed at all he could feel through the turtleneck’s fabric, Hanzo groaning in response–something he did not process until a few seconds after. They kissed crudely, rough and wanting as they touched desperately. Carefully, Cole slid his hands beneath the turtle neck and began raising it up until they parted lips to completely pull it off of him.Cole whistled. “You’ve got a tattoo on yer arm?”“Yes,” Hanzo mumbled, hazed and overwhelmed. “Kiss me again.”The cowboy chuckled, “On it.” Cole’s lips met his, much to Hanzo’s content. They lay there, Cole dragging his hands over muscles. He left his hands to rest and pulled away, “You’re alright with this, are you?”“I–Yes, I am.” Truth be told, Hanzo had never known this, but it was embarrassing to admit when he was a few years out of school. He did not have time for a ‘this,’ though Genji most certainly had. Yet here, the motorcycle and its memories explained to him why his brother did as he pleased. And maybe he could learn not the strike of a sword; but the tender meat of a hand. Cole’s grin–Cole’s grin–refocused his brain as it layered a kiss atop his swollen mouth. “Good.”And the lips trailed beyond Hanzo’s neck and much lower: his chest a primary target for hickeys that the swordsman feared would leave identifiable marks upon his flesh, though they remained carmine bites for now. The teeth rather stung, raking across his skin uncomfortably sharp, however, they were followed by laps of the tongue and other gentle kisses. Then: Cole’s mouth reached the band of Hanzo’s underwear beneath his thin pants. The gunslinger's hands had lay there too, and he looked up in silent questioning. A nod came from above him, and Cole glanced down again. He took great effort into taking off the leather slacks cleanly, his briefs coming soon after. And here was when Cole seemed to process at the same time as Hanzo that he was incredibly overdressed in comparison. The man dealt with it in a quick and almost desperate way, returning his lips to Hanzo’s meanwhile. Hanzo tried to reach down to help, though he forgot his original goal halfway through and he only held Cole’s hips in place. Hanzo was cold, he realized, instinctively pulling at the sheets that had been strewn across the bed. The cowboy above him moved his knees up whenever the wool would get caught on his legs. Rather nervously, Hanzo reached his head to capture Cole in a kiss. The other gladly returned the favor, pushing his tongue gently along the inside of Hanzo’s cheek. Cole moved under the blankets to put his mouth back on Hanzo’s hips, earning himself a shudder in surprise. He mouthed around the archer’s dick, never wholly settling on a vein or patch of skin, only kissing the hair around it. Hanzo took a bite of the back of his own hand, pinching himself with his teeth in order to not whimper pitifully. “Please…please…” Hanzo did not realize he had been muttering into his skin.Cole planted another kiss and said: “Please what, darlin’?” Hanzo cried in response, quieting himself with his palms because he refused to speak. Cole chuckled at the hushed noises and simply kept waiting for Hanzo to make more. And when Hanzo did let one slip rather loudly, Cole finally moved onto the other’s cock. The swordsman above him sobbed, the relief of his touch soothing an ache he had not known. Cole lapped at the skin with his tongue, kissing Hanzo's dick yet still not taking him into his mouth and devouring him. He did so three or maybe four times, then replaced his lips with his hand and began kissing Hanzo proper. The archer took comfort in the fact that the tissue that constructed Cole’s mouth could perfectly stifle his desperate wails. He was kissed roughly, yet all he wanted was more of ‘this’. He couldn’t see Cole’s hands because his eyes were pulled shut, but, oh, he could certainly feel them; skilled strokes raking over, almost careful with where his hands went. One of his palms reached lower than his cock, groping at the bottom of his ass more than anything. A thumb–intelligently orchestrated placement, might one add–poked at around his rim, cautious nonetheless.“I–err, not sure if this is okay,” Cole gasped, pulling their lips away for only a moment, “Everyone’s different on, like…uh.”Hanzo kissed him, missing his lips for a little while. “I would–hm–be alright with this.”“Y’sure?”
“I’m sure.”Cole bit at the other’s mouth, focusing more on grabbing and touching. He kept moving his hand up along his length, and the other poked at his hole. Hanzo almost forgot about Cole’s own dick until it brushed along his left thigh mindlessly. Arguably, that only made the swordsman want more. Cole moved away for a second, pecking the corner of his lips before leaving his side. Hanzo’s eyes fluttered open at the lack of heat.“Come back,” He mumbled.“Hold on, love,” Cole replied, “Let me get somethin’ real quick.” Hanzo whined a little, mourning the absence of the other’s hand. When Cole did return, Hanzo reached for his waist and brought him back down. They kissed feverishly, mouth to mouth and wanton. This time, when Cole’s cock hit the back of his groin, he did not feel skin, rather the plastic of a condom. Finally–Finally–did one of the cowboy’s fingers sink into his ass. With a low groan, Hanzo leaned into Cole’s shoulder carefully. It was all very new and different, not ever having known what it was like to lay in bed with anyone other than himself. The only moments in which might resemble this were the women that occasionally came to the castle, though he lacked any interest at all. They had feminine figures and soft lips, sure, but it never went more than a kiss. Then there was this. Cole stretched him carefully and with a well trained hand, and Hanzo wondered just how many others the outlaw had bed? Perhaps this wasn’t unique; Cole had claimed people weren’t always okay with this, implying he had been with at least a couple. How many? Hanzo moaned as he was worked open, lube smearing his walls and the excess squeezing out from in between the (now) two fingers. Cole kissed at his skin, peppering his chest with quick breaths. “You’re beautiful,” The cowboy commented, and Hanzo could only mumble nonsense in response. And Cole lifted himself up by the elbows, getting up to kiss Hanzo. The man grabbed at the other, lifting Hanzo to sit more comfortably on the pillows. “You ever done this before? Not just generally but…”“Not…no.” He remembered that ‘vulnerable’ was all he was now, and what would it do for him to not be? So Cole, rather gently, brought Hanzo’s legs further apart, pressing his lips to the archer’s neck and collarbones. He felt the gunslinger’s hot breath rest and mingle on stray hairs upon Hanzo’s chest, careful yet full of an intoxicatingly desperate want. Hanzo felt Cole’s dick slowly push into his ass; a gradual descent into his body. He cried out, the other man kissing him through it while his fingertips trembled on Cole’s muscles. Hanzo sobbed, nearly enveloped in a small concentration of ecstasy. Of course, it wasn’t ethereal quite yet and he was only getting adjusted to how it felt. He felt delicate, weakly whimpering beneath another man’s touch.“You alright darlin’?” Cole’s hands remained on the other’s waist while he awaited an answer. Hanzo nodded, fearing he would blabber too much if he spoke. Slowly, Cole moved out by an inch, and then returned. “Easy now,” he said. It was nice to feel this pretty, this loved. Maybe it was something the cowboy did to every other he had slept with, but maybe Hanzo hoped it wasn’t. He was littered with praise, compliments kissing the blemishes in his skin and hugging his thorax tightly. He didn’t expect to exist in a space that smelt like the flowers in Hanamura and incense. That had never been second nature to him, yet he pulled Cole down to his lips. Hanzo groaned, letting the other do a majority of the work in favor of making noise. He most certainly grabbed at the others hips and chest, motioning vaguely and with uncertainty.“Y’ sound real nice love,” Cole heaved, “real nice.”Hanzo dug his nose into the other’s throat. “Do I really?”“Mhm,” he crowed, his murmurs dragging the second ‘m’ sound much longer than the first, “really.” Hanzo felt him jut his hips inwards again, causing him to whine into Cole’s skin. It was an endless rut, growing inhumane quickly and feverishly. The cowboy began moaning louder, losing his once stable grip faster than he did before. “Cole,” Hanzo cried, “Cole.”“Mhm, mhm?” “Don’t–hah–stop, don’t.” Cole kissed him again. “I won’t I–hnm–won’t.” He rammed into Hanzo’s ass, then pressed their bare chests together quietly. Cole grabbed at the bedsheets while the archer lolled his hands through the other’s hair. Hanzo couldn’t think, every thought he had once swarmed his ears and overwhelmed him with incessant chatter. “You’re so goddamn beautiful, so damn pretty,” Cole rambled. All Hanzo could say was quick little mutters, abrupt ‘uh–huh’s and ‘mhm’s. Cole soon dug into the other’s shoulder, muffling his own screams until Hanzo’s were done. The cowboy peppered the bite mark he left with kisses, and Hanzo’s vision was only blurry. He slumped his shoulders and blinked, then again. Cole Cassidy. Cole Cassidy. Cole. Cassidy.—Hanzo woke up after, nose flared and wide awake. He feared Cole had slipped away into the dead of the night, as it was 9:04 P.M and he wouldn’t blame him for it. But when Hanzo checked Cole was certainly there. In fact, he had gone through the care of dressing them both (shirtless, but he at least wore the right thing) and cleaning up what he could. He draped a hairy arm over Hanzo’s stomach, snoring lightly and covered in drool. Hanzo chose to not wake him, rather gently turning on the hologram beside his bed. Genji had called him 15 times since then. Worriedly, picked up his phone and plucked out his contact and waited for him to respond.“Hanzo? Holy shit you’re alive?!” He called, in the midst of a party it sounded.His brother sighed in response. “Yes, Genji, I am alive. Did you need anything?”“No not really, just menial tasks I guess–” Hanzo heard Kiriko in the background before Genji spoke again, “OH! Oh my god, Kiriko wants to show something, hold on.” Hanzo saw the camera request appear and he most certainly hesitated. “Wait for once, Jesus! At least let me properly get dressed…”“Yeah yeah,” Genji mumbled, “Wait what the fuck do you mean properly dressed?!” Unfortunately, Cole turned his wrist tighter with a groan, latching onto Hanzo’s waist. “Genji listen to me very clearly, I am tired and I have absolutely no need to listen to your–”“Just let me show you downstairs through a camera at least, please! You won’t have to come with us next time–”“I’ll simply go, it’s not like I never want to go out, Genji,” Hanzo replied.“Well you’re always mad when you do so–” “Mayhaps it is because you yap about everything?” He heard his brother groan through the crowd and laugh, “Please Kiriko’s drunk out of her mind and is making the stupidest cocktail in the world I promise you it’s funny.”Cole’s arm shifted from its place, and Hanzo watched as he lifted himself oddly and exhausted. “Who is doing what now?” The cowboy asked. Genji went quiet for two seconds until both he and Kiriko yelled “WHO?!” at a volume that felt like it broke the speakers on his phone. Kiriko slurred unknown nonsense and Genji did the same, though a little more put together. Quickly, Hanzo hung up and turned his phone on silent, then stiffened his posture and sat very still next to Cole.“What in the world…” Cole said, rather raspy and tired.Hanzo gently put his phone down. “My brother and our friend. Unfortunately, they are 30 floors below us at the moment and are most likely rushing upstairs. The better news is that they are rather drunk.” “I mean, they won’t find anything weird I think.” Cole kissed the side of his face and got up, stretching rather meanly. Curiously, he walked over to the balcony and opened the door. “You keep this thing locked most o’ the time, don’t you?”“Yes,” Hanzo said, “Though I wouldn’t mind using it tonight.”“Sweet.” The two of them sat down on the same lounge chair and pressed together comfortably. “Cole?”“Yeah?”“You said something about others before me,” Hanzo mumbled, looking at the city beneath them, “Tell me about them.”Cole shrugged. “Just one night stands I suppose, most of them I never saw again.”“Oh.”“Not that anything bad came of it, just moved on with our lives.”Hanzo looked at him then looked away, “Were none of them standing relationships?”“I mean, now that I think of it, no,” Cole chuckled, “Guess I’ve just been in situationships more than anything. Always single by technicality.” “I think we are the same in that matter.” “Really?” Cole leaned over, though not so he towered. “You know what?”“What?”They kissed, very simply. “Maybe I’m just hopeful or somethin’. I mean, when are you flying back?”“Winter,” Hanzo answered.“That’s…pretty far away from now,” Cole reconsidered his options, then grinned. “Maybe we don’t have to repeat a cycle, darlin’.”