Chapter Text
“Sweet Jesus,” McCree gasps. He’s bound, forced to kneel on their divan with his arms behind his back and his ass in the air, and he’d rather die before changing that. He exhales heavily into the supple leather of the cushion under him, now glistening with his sweat. He jumps-- once-- twice-- a third time as Hanzo’s hand inside him jabs with expert precision.
“What was that?” Hanzo asks. “I don’t think I heard that right. It was my name you meant to call, was it not?”
“Oh, fuck, Hanzo,” McCree moans. “Hanzo, baby, please.” He clenches down, groans at the wide press of Hanzo’s knuckles inside him. His cock drips down onto the slick black leather underneath him. Even a simple caress would set him off at this point, but Hanzo seems to feel cruel tonight; instead of a stroke, Hanzo slaps McCree’s balls and laughs as the pain makes McCree jerk and clench down on his hand.
He apologizes with a gentle squeeze though, rolling McCree’s testicles in his gloved hand like they’re the most precious thing in the world. McCree whines, shimmies his ass back the millimeter of freedom he’s allowed so he can get Hanzo’s fingers that much deeper.
All it takes is one word: “Come.”
McCree does. One long, body-shaking shiver and he spasms on Hanzo’s hand, balls drawing up tight as he shoots spurt after spurt of cum onto the black leather underneath him. It drips off his softening cock and down into his leg hair, pools in the neat rivet-dips of the cushion. McCree knows Hanzo will make him clean it with his tongue later, but for now he is wholly consumed by the act of obeying, and obeying with his whole body.
His back arches, his fists clench; McCree swears his vision whites out. His whole focus comes down to Hanzo’s warm hands on and in and around him. That’s all he needs.