The Other Side (Overwatch story/SMUT)

Part 48 - Meditation : Side story by Hellthera

*So... guys, listen up! I have just gotten my first fanfic side story of my OW fanfic! :D Truly an amazing day and I am truly honored! It is written by the lovely @hellthera whose novels you should really check out!*

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Mood: I want your bite - Chris Crocker

Jesse's jaw dropped when Hanzo disrobed in a single motion, showing off his perfect, godly, gorgeous, magnificent... Jesse ran out of adjectives to describe the perfection in front of him.

His eyes roamed on the statuesque man and stopped in the middle, at his... Here too adjectives failed him. He had tasted it, had had it inside of him and he couldn't wait to touch it again.

A movement from his periphery made him raise his eyes and met the warm stern brown eyes of his lover, just in time to see the tattoo dance on his chest and arm.

Then a silken waterfall of ebony hair fell on Hanzo's shoulders to frame his gorgeous face.

Jesse fell to his knees. And the beast below his belt woke up when Hanzo took a step forward, getting his perfect body – and member – closer to him. Jesse was sure he could feel the heat radiating from Hanzo, despite the ambient high temperatures.

When his lover confirmed that he didn't deserve him, because he broke his promise and lied to him, Jesse felt desperate. He wanted to touch him, to taste him, to make him moan and cry out and spill in his mouth and...

He tried to plead to him, to bargain, offering to make it up to him but Hanzo was not giving in.

When the sentence dropped, he was surprised but tried to bargain, again, forgetting that Hanzo had been a crime lord, used to negotiating and bargaining with people that were all polite smiles in the front and drawn daggers at the back.

The discussion went on, getting more and more heated until Jesse stupidly said that blowing Hanzo might help take him over the worst of withdrawal. Hanzo straightened, offended to be just a relief and despite apologizing and trying to explain, Jesse couldn't make him change his mind. Hanzo was angry and offended. He turned his back to Jesse, giving him a tantalizing view of his perfect ass.

Jesse tried to swallow the frustrated expletive but didn't manage completely. And then that asshole, that perfect hunk, that most handsome of men, looked at him over his shoulder, giving him the worst of ultimatum. And then, then... aaargh, he touched him, palmed his engorged dick, blackmailed him... and Jesse almost caved in, almost agreed to the conditions.

But his temper rose its head and he threw his hat on the ground and walked away, not wanting to give in to blackmail, not wanting to cave in, to agree to stop smoking and drinking, saying he was going to meditate when Hanzo asked. He was going to need it, he thought, as anger got the better of him and he punched his fist against a rock then giving the finger to Hanzo when he sassed him.

He continued walking away, his fist hurting and his dick straining against his pants. Finding a place hidden from the river, he plopped his ass down on the sand and folded his legs, trying to achieve the lotus position – or something close to it – than gentle Zenyatta had tried to teach him.

Finally settled, he closed his eyes, tried to empty his mind and ignore the throbbing of his cock, but the only images he saw was Hanzo's perfect face over his perfect shoulder, Hanzo's perfect member just within reach of his mouth, Hanzo night black hair and gorgeous tattoo. Shit!

His eyes flew open, he tried to fix his gaze on something, anything, that wouldn't remind him of his lover but that rock had a somewhat phallic form, that particular dead branch reminded him of the lightning in Hanzo's tattoo, that cloud was serpentine, almost dragon-like, the setting sun made the sky as dark as Hanzo's silken strands...

He dropped his head in his hands and carded his fingers through his hair, defeated. His gaze fell on his crotch, still tented by his erection. He huffed. He would have to take care of it the normal way, then, not the Asian way.

Trying to make as little noise as possible – which was stupid because he was far enough from Hanzo that he couldn't hear him, right? – he undid his belt, worked the zipper down and slipped a hand into his boxers.

His dick was too sensitive, and his light touch did nothing to alleviate the feeling. Delicately, not wanting this moment to end up too quickly, he ghosted his flesh fingers along his shaft, down to the root, up to the tip, back and forth, up and down and the feeling was so good...

He leaned backwards, ending flat on his back, unfolding his long legs and spreading them a little. With his metal hand, he tugged his pants down, then his boxers, to free his balls from their prison of cloth. He switched hands, ghosting the colder metal fingers along his shaft, caressing his testicles with his flesh hand. He would never allow the metal fingers close to them, oh no, sir... too dangerous. But the light touch on his shaft was very very good, the coolness of the metal welcome against the heat of his skin.

He didn't have the same sense of touch in that hand and it almost felt like a foreign hand caressing him, teasing his slit and he bit on a little cry of pure pleasure at the sensation. He wanted to close those fingers around his shaft and work himself but the strength of the prosthetic hand was too much for that kind of game. Especially after the "upgrade" Sombra had given him.

Thinking about her, hoping she was fine, turned his mind away from what his hands were doing for about one and a half second. Then Hanzo's eyes, hair, skin and ass came back to the front and he moaned with pain – delicious pain, pleasurable pain – when his metal hand squeezed his shaft.

He switched hands again, grabbing his belt with the metal one to keep it away from his family jewels and, folding his flesh hand around his burning shaft, started stroking himself.

Eyes closed, he remembered the first time he had taken Hanzo, on the serape that was right now isolating his back from the gritty sand, he remembered the tightness and the heat of his hole, the clenching of his walls around his shaft as he thrusted inside him and he also remembered the aftermath, the pain and disgust of Hanzo. That stopped him and he squeezed his eyes shut against the painful memories.

"I'm sorry, my love, I'm so sorry for what I have done to you, I'm sorry for what he has done to you, I wish I could go back in time and show you how it's done with love, protect you from him..."

He was motionless, hand still around his shaft, his eyes closed and his urge was slowly receding. Then the wind picked up a little and caressed his tip and he moaned with pleasure. The non-touch was so light yet so good, so refreshing against his heat. He was too far gone, despite the bad memories, and his hand moved again, but this time he remembered the time in Nepal when Hanzo had made love to him, using all his expertise with women to make him enjoy it to the hilt. And then releasing the dragons through him at the moment of his climax. Oh God, that had been so fucking good!

His hand moved faster, now subtlety was out of the question, he was just chasing his orgasm, lifting his legs, imagining Hanzo's dick pushing inside him, filling him, thrusting in him and then spilling inside, filling him with warmth and love and he came hard in his hand, catching his come in his palm, biting his lip to keep his moan subdued.

He came down from his high, still bathed in the afterglow of sex. It wasn't as good as being with his lover, but if Hanzo decided to make good of his threat, he'd better find some time alone to rub one out once in a while, or his balls would be so engorged he wouldn't be unable to think...

He tucked himself back into his clothes, cleaned his hand, dusted and rearranged his serape and walked back to his love.