Chapter Text
As if the burning, blistering day couldn’t get any worse.
“Well, somehow you managed to burn through the motor oil and your transmission’s shot.” Hanzo couldn’t help but glare at the only greased up, sweaty, painfully attractive mechanic for 50 miles. He knew it was no one’s fault but his own, but he’d rather vent than beat himself up all day.
“Peachy. Since you’ve identified it, you must be able to fix it?” It wasn’t so much a question, he knew he should have withheld the bite in his voice, but the 100 degree heat and severe lack of air conditioning in the shop was getting to him. “I’ll pay extra to have it done as quickly as possible.”
“Sure, I can get it done ASAP, but it’ll be a pretty penny for the parts and time. I reckon it’d be around $1,300 for the whole thing, and at least until the morning to get it back on the road.” Wiping his hands on an already filthy rag, the mechanic approached Hanzo, eyebrow raising as he took in his first real look of the man. He was inclined to take Hanzo’s word after getting an eyeful of the full Armani suit and Rolex on his wrist. Not that he truly needed it, having just finished inspecting a car worth more than a quarter of a million dollars.
“Money is of no issue, I just want it done so I can get out of this… dump.” He had honestly tried to find another word, but even Hanzo had his limits. However, he knew the heat was not to blame for this snark.
“That’s great, because for jobs as big as this, I need half the price for a deposit and the rest when the job’s done,” the mechanic took a few steps towards Hanzo, too many steps, in his opinion. He was practically looming over him when he continued, “Think you can give it to me now?”
Hanzo had never backed down from a challenge before, and he was not about to start now. Voice flat, eyes narrowing, “I’d be delighted,” he said, raising his arm as if to touch the other man, letting it hang between their bodies, deftly slipping it into his front pocket to remove his wallet.
The day could, indeed, get worse.
The wallet laid empty, gutted of all of its cash and cards. Briefly, Hanzo realized this was the reason why his brother had looked giddier than usual when they had parted ways earlier in the day. He cursed his brother with every breath and fiber of his being.
“It would seem…”
“I have eyes, sug.” Hanzo did not miss the judgmental teeth sucking from the mechanic. He racked his mind, split between thinking of a solution and a plan for disposing his brother’s body, when the mechanic spoke again. “Now, I’m not about to ask for your jewelry or the clothes off your back--”
A devilish idea, and an even more sinister smirk.
“You might not truly be asking for it, but judging from your gaze, you’ve already fucked me at least in seven different positions since the moment I stepped into your shop.” Hanzo looked up at the mechanic, reveling in the shadow of this large, muscular man. “Surely, you must want the clothes off my back,” he pulled the mechanic by his bulky belt buckle, paying no mind to its inscription, “even if it’s not for payment.” He nearly spit out the last sound of the word, angling his chin up enough to almost rub it against the other man’s.
The mechanic’s arms shot out, grabbing Hanzo by the hips, an impressive outline grinding against him, mouth dipping down to Hanzo’s neck, murmuring against his throat, “If you fuck as well as you dress, then we might just have a deal.”
Hanzo would have responded, but the mechanic thought it a perfect time to lick a stripe up his neck, grinding harder, taking two rough, calloused handfuls of his ass.
“Hun, I’ll take you in payments, so why don’t you get yourself inside while I start on the car, huh?” Lifting him like he was nothing, Hanzo was quite forcefully pushed toward the only door in the garage, receiving a slap to his ass as he ran --walked quickly-- towards to inside.
“Oh, and sug?” Hanzo turned, glassy eyes, pants visibly straining. “Think of me, yeah? Get good and ready, because we’re diving straight in.”
Hanzo lost his balance, torn between heading inside to prepare himself for his payment, and running back to the mechanic, willing to fuck in the open air garage against his busted up car.
“Come out here when I call for you, you hear?” Though it had been yelled, the mechanic doubted Hanzo could hear him, worked up and horny as he was.
------
It wasn’t more than 40 slow, grueling minutes before the mechanic called Hanzo back out into the garage. He met Hanzo at the door, leaning against the frame on one arm, the smile spread across his face filthier than the rest of him. Though Hanzo’s flush had receded considerably, it came raging back when they locked eyes, bleeding downwards toward the large patches of exposed chest.
Hanzo tried to look refined, attempted to look composed and regal under the hungry stare of the mechanic, but unraveled within seconds. Although he had no mirror, he knew he looked disheveled and as if he had already been laid to waste, the preparation he put himself through crossing the line from sufficient to indulgent.
“Fucked yourself good and ready, sug? ‘Cause I meant what I said earlier, we’re diving in whether you’re good to go or not.” The mechanic moved aside, allowing Hanzo to pass him, swatting his ass and taking a firm hold of it as they moved towards the car. Before Hanzo could ask what the plan was, the mechanic’s other hand grabbed his shoulder to stop him. “I know you offered yourself for this, made your offer a real temptation, but we don’t have to.” The mechanic’s voice rolled over him like molasses, dark, heady. “You seem pretty into it, just looking at'cha, but if you say stop, I’ll listen, you hear?” Hanzo pointedly turned to face the other, holding his gaze for a few moments before solidly nodding, starting to turn around. Their chests never collided, however, as he was kept in place, while the mechanic none too gently tore Hanzo’s shirt open, buttons flying everywhere. Those same hands moved to grope Hanzo’s chest, pinching and pulling the pebbled nipples, pushing the handfuls up and out.
“Good and ready doesn’t mean wearing clothes, honey. Especially when you’ve got such a treat waiting for me underneath your shirt alone.” Hanzo was pulled back as close to the mechanic as physically possible, feeling every inch and a very prominent jut in the small of his back. A few squeezes, some more pulls, and he was turned and lifted, placed on top of the hood of the car. The mechanic made a show of unbuttoning his uniform shirt, balling it up and throwing it at Hanzo when it was off. He settled his hands on his belt, fingers crawling towards the center to unlatch it, before he spoke more. “But there is something… very tempting about fucking through some clothes, though.” He unbuckled the belt, and slowly, tantalizingly slowly, pulled it, hoop by hoop. The sound of leather scratching against denim should not have turned Hanzo on, but the loud moan he released proved otherwise.
“No good way to fuck with these pants still on ya, sug, hurry it up before I rip those too.” Another moan escaped Hanzo, the promise --threat?-- of that unbridled strength being used on him hurrying him along. He removed the shirt from his face but not before taking note of the name tag --McCree--, scrunching it into one hand, bringing it up to his face, inhaling deeply and taking it between his mouth before undoing his pants. He threw them aside, rolled onto his stomach, and spread his legs clear across the expanse of the car, feet hooked on either side of the hood, boxer-clad ass lifted, upturned, ready. He looked over his shoulder at the mechanic, expecting to see a dumbfounded face, but was dumbfounded himself at what he saw.
The mechanic --McCree-- was casually stroking himself through his underwear, a content smile settled on his face, eyes never leaving Hanzo’s ass. Hanzo shivered under the gaze, lewdly spreading his legs even more, belly laid down flat and spine arched beautifully.
“Mighty impressive, there darlin’, flexible, solid, absolutely impressive.” A few sharp tugs before McCree began walking towards Hanzo, hands settling on those sturdy hips, fingers digging in, deeper than was necessary. “And you’re sure you’re ready for me, honey?” He settled his entire weight on Hanzo, slotting his fat cock between the cheeks of Hanzo’s ass, wiggling slightly to dig in further. If he could have, Hanzo would have rubbed back against the hard, sturdy weight of the man above him. He never got the chance, however, as McCree bodily yanked Hanzo’s boxers down, enough to leave the flesh of his ass exposed, but not much else.
“What a sight, what a beautiful sight,” McCree crooned, clawed fingers spreading his ass, slightly gaped hole glistening, winking under his gaze. “Damn, sug, gaping already, huh? How many fingers did you get in here?” A rough thumb pressed over the hole, dipping in slightly. “Was it two? Three? Don’t tell me you went for four, hun.” Two of the mechanic’s fingers slipped into the lubed up hole easily, spreading while pushing in and out, a lewd squelch following their every movement.
“I’ll take this,” he removed his fingers only to just as easily insert three at once, “as a yes.” He removed his fingers entirely seconds later, large palm coming down flat on Hanzo’s ass in three quick successions, the resounding smacks not covering up Hanzo’s mewl of pleasure.
“Yes! Yes, it was four!” Hanzo panted, finding it easier to breathe now that the mechanic lifted himself completely off of him. He was about to complain, but instead yelped out in surprise and arousal when a soft, warm tongue licked the entirety of his hole, delving in the slightest bit before lifting off of him.
“Like that, don’cha, darlin’?” McCree chuckled against his ass, tongue licking in deeper than before, mouth open wide and pressed as close to the ass as possible. It was almost too much for Hanzo, never having been subjected to being eaten out, much less by a talented stranger on the hood of his own car. It was lewd, it was vile, it was--
It was everything Hanzo had ever craved.
The mouth continued to work him over, occasionally moving to leave bites and kisses to the surrounding areas, never straying too far from the matter at hand. Hanzo couldn’t help it-- he moaned at the sensations, attempting to cover his mouth and coarse screaming, but McCree had taken ahold of his arms, effectively pinning him flat on his stomach, unable to move away from that wonderful, gifted tongue. Not that he wanted to, not in the slightest.
He had, however, buried his face into the uniform shirt, mouthing at it to quell his screams. The smell he had first found foul and sour he suddenly found enticing, arousing, raw. It was greater than the scent of a man; it was the scent of a hard working man, a man who got his hands dirty, a strong, capable man: a man who was currently laying Hanzo to waste with his mouth alone. Hanzo couldn’t get enough of it, rubbing his face and neck all over it, drooling freely, trying to rub the smell into his skin.
The mechanic soon took notice, having taken the lack of screams as a sign he had somehow come short in his ministrations. He saw instead Hanzo’s attempts to become one with the shirt, already glossy-eyed, looking half fucked out of his mind just from getting eaten out. An idea suddenly came to McCree, a simple suggestion that had the potential to become something greater.
“You seem real fond of that shirt, baby, but I can’t having you chewing through my only good work shirt,” McCree said, moving away from Hanzo into a squatting position, getting a good look at his handiwork in the process. “Why not put it on, hun, let it rub against you where I can’t.”
Hanzo panted back, mind still foggy, shivers cascading down his body from the intensity of having his ass played with, but slowly sat himself up, continuing to breathe into the shirt as he went. With one final, strong whiff, he shook the shirt open and slid his arms through, somehow feeling more exposed, wearing a-- a dirty rag, the shirt of the man who had just been eating him out so wonderfully, this stranger’s shirt and nothing else.
Legs dangling off the side of the car, Hanzo looked over to the mechanic, entire body ruddy from exertion, pleasure, and a minuscule amount of shame. To think, a manual laborer, a nobody, laying his hands on a someone, a someone like Hanzo. And Hanzo reveled in it.
McCree snorted, wiping his mouth off on the back on his hand, licking his lips as he went. He set his arms on either side of Hanzo, boxing him in, not letting him look anywhere but at the mechanic. They held the stare for seconds, Hanzo licking his lips in turn, leaning forward slightly before pulling back, flush darkening every inch of skin visible.
“You’re real cute, ya know that? Innocent, as if you didn’t ask to get reamed against your busted up car.” Hanzo turned his head away sharply, only to get caught between two fingers, lifting his chin, squeezing his cheeks, smearing grease, dirtying his complexion further. “Nuh uh uh, you don’t get to hide from yourself now, you hear. I want you to say it. Say just what you’re doing here, just for me.”
“I…” McCree’s finger pulled his bottom lip down, squeezing his cheeks further. Hanzo licked out in retaliation, the finger moving down. “I believe… I offered myself to you as-- as payment for car services.” His steely gaze returned, meeting McCree’s head on despite the widespread flush. He would bend for this man in many ways, however he’d like, but not in this situation.
McCree smirked, grin lopsided, eyes twinkling as they roved across Hanzo’s face and chest, before settling back on his eyes. “There it is. Thought I lost you there for a hot minute.” He moved his face close to Hanzo’s, only to pull back at the last second before their lips touched, copying what Hanzo had previously done. He let out a bark of laughter at Hanzo’s sour expression, before he wrapped his arms around the other’s waist and hefted him up, carrying him as if he weighed nothing.
Hanzo tried, and ultimately failed to hide the shudder that passed through his body at the move.
“Why don’t we get to the main event, sug? I could tease you for hours, don’t get me wrong,” he hefted Hanzo higher on his body, Hanzo instinctively wrapping his legs around McCree to help, “but I think, if I did, you’d faint from all the blood rushing to your… well, everywhere.” His laughter rang through the garage, echoing further in Hanzo’s ears as he buried his face in McCree’s neck.
Before his embarrassment could subside, Hanzo was shoved against the side of his car, the body between his legs hot, strong, gently gyrating against his own-- but distractedly. Looking up, he noticed McCree struggling with the back door, managing to open it before dumping Hanzo on the seats, climbing in shortly after.
Under those predatory eyes, Hanzo felt small, nervous, coy. He moved back until his back hit the other door, pressing himself as far against it as he can, looking ready to bolt should the opportunity present itself. He wouldn’t, and he knew McCree knew it, but the thrill of a potential chase ignited him, the flame of desire burning brighter with every second spent in the tight space with the mechanic.
McCree crawled towards him, keeping up the act of predator, shoving Hanzo harder against the door, laying his entire weight on the other, effectively trapping him. “Got you right where I want you, almost.” He shoved his hands under Hanzo’s legs, lifting him, like he weighed nothing --undoubtedly showing off his strength, all too knowingly-- to set him in his own lap, hands moving to grip both sides of Hanzo’s hips, thumbs rubbing small circles just below the edge of the mechanic’s shirt. “Perfect.”
Hanzo rolled his hips after steadying himself, feeling hard muscle move beneath him, a thick cock rising up through boxer shorts to greet his every move. He all but shoved his chest into McCree’s face, grinding down harder when those grimy hands moved to squeeze his ass, pulling and kneading, pawing at him for more.
He was getting lost in the sensations, tapping into the unbreached desires of being with a man such as McCree-- rough around the edges, unkempt, powerful, rugged. And given the last half hour’s activities, raunchy.
“You know, hun, today marks two firsts for me.” His words were uttered into Hanzo’s chest, neither willing to separate enough to let McCree’s words come out as more than a garble. “Never fucked someone in a Bentley,” he whispered, fingers pressing lightly against his hole, rubbing the leak back in and around the entrance. “And I ain’t never fucked someone as pretty as you.”
If Hanzo had any hesitations before, they were gone now.
Desperate was the only word that could describe Hanzo. Desperate, and hungry. Hungry for the man currently beneath him-- both in position and power-- the man currently calling the shots, holding the reigns, in control.
“No one has ever spoken to me like that before--” A hot mouth interrupted him, a thick tongue licking in, unfurling, reaching deep, deep, deep, nearly suffocating him.
“Then let me be the first, sug.” Teeth assaulted Hanzo’s lips, soft kisses tracing his jaw, nibbles making their way down his throat, undoubtedly leaving mark after mark. “Let me treat you how you’ve always wanted,” a wet mouth sucked on a nipple, teasing the very tip, “slut.”
Hanzo dug his hands into McCree’s hair, forcing his head harder into his chest, the weight of his entire body grinding down on the mechanic, damning his underwear with every passing second. Hearing Hanzo’s frustrated groans, McCree hauled Hanzo up by the thighs, steadying him one handed as he pulled his boxers down enough to expose himself. Hanzo sat back down forcefully once he heard McCree’s sigh of relief, grinding, twisting, writhing mindlessly.
“Hun, at least let me put it in you before you start the show.” Hanzo at least had the sense to look humbled by his overeagerness.
McCree’s smile was overly charming, warm, damning. “Look at you; you’re losing your head for this, for me, aren’t you?” Prodding fingers finally entered him, Hanzo rutting harder against the chiseled body in front of him. “Wound so tight, intimidating; looking like you can cut a man twice your size down with just a pointed glance. But here you are. At my mercy. You’re just full of surprises, huh honey?”
The thick fingers were removed then, leaving Hanzo feeling empty, wanting. His anticipation was palpable, choking the two in the cabin, reaching a fever pitch when McCree began adjusting himself just so--
“Well shit, seems I got carried away for a minute, I forgot to grab lube and a condom.” McCree dragged his free hand through his hair, looking away in his first show of fluster. Placing both hands on Hanzo’s thighs, he tapped his fingers anxiously across the quivering thighs, patting each gently before moving to wrap his hands around the thighs, making as if to remove Hanzo from his lap.
Panicking, Hanzo clamped his thighs tightly around McCree, effectively stopping him. Panting, from more than exertion, Hanzo shook his head, attempting to speak over his haggard breaths. “No! Don’t, don’t-- I have some, right--” he turned around, staying put on McCree’s lap, reaching behind himself for the glove box. A small struggle to open it, but Hanzo managed, a small laugh escaping him when he turned back with a small tube and foil wrapper in his hand. “Here,” he pressed the tube to McCree’s outstretched hand, “I have some here.”
“Did you plan this, or are you that huge of a slut?” McCree’s shocked chuckles rattled Hanzo, but instead of shame overcoming him, raw desire flooded his entire being.
Composing himself, Hanzo replied, “Neither, you just got lucky.”
“I’ll say.” He set the items down, focusing all his attention on Hanzo’s mouth, kissing the very breath from his lungs. Distracted, Hanzo didn’t feel McCree slip the condom on, or even slick himself up with the lube, unaware of anything until he was hefted up by the hips, the hands on either side digging in enough to bruise, his own hands wrapping around McCree’s head as he sank down, down, down.
“ Have mercy.” Hanzo had never been a pious man, but the stars he saw behind his closed eyes were otherworldly.
“Not today angel.” And before another breath could leave Hanzo’s lips, he rammed straight up, pushing his hips down to meet halfway.
Unable to do anything more than hunch over McCree, Hanzo trailed kisses down his neck, mouth latching onto every inch he came in contact with. Every violent thrust was matched with an equally violent suck, teeth digging into sweaty skin, breaking it in some places. The rolling hips did not stop, however, only pushing up harder and faster.
“I’m not a chew toy, baby-- you can’t just,” McCree gasped when another bite was made just above his collarbone, definitely breaking skin. “That’s it.” Hands grabbing Hanzo’s shoulders, McCree pulled out of the other man, spinning him around, forcing Hanzo’s hands onto the center console between the front seats.
“You want something to bite, you’re going to bite the gear stick.” He sank back in, eliciting a moan from Hanzo, bent over as he was, legs spread wide to accommodate McCree’s body. Lewd, indecent, the feeling of being spread by McCree’s powerful body caused Hanzo to moan louder when the thrusts continued. “Go on,” a few short slaps landed on his ass as McCree spoke, “wrap your dainty lips and pointy teeth around it if you want to be feisty.”
Nodding, drowning in his own need, Hanzo leaned forward more, licking the stick from bottom to top, unsure if McCree could even see it, but burning from it even so. He opened his mouth wide, breath ghosting over the ball as he mouthed it, waiting for a lull in McCree’s thrusting so he wouldn’t choke on it. Waiting proved to be difficult, however, when McCree refused to slow his thrusts, calls for him to hurry up grunted out every other second. Hanzo obliged, mouth stretching impossibly wide, teeth digging into the expensive leather uncaringly.
“Filthy slut,” McCree’s voice was wrecked, nothing more than a croak, groans and gasps filling the cabin along with Hanzo’s. “You think you’re better than me, ha,” he moved his hands, one settling on the small of his back, the other wrapped around a thigh to bring Hanzo’s body back to him, “waltzing in here, hoity toity , a real snob. Aw yeah , but look who’s on top now.” The resounding slaps of hips colliding covered his laughter, but Hanzo felt it nonetheless.
The shirt on Hanzo’s back bunched up around his head, letting McCree see the flush spread to the furthest reaches of Hanzo’s lower back. Hanzo felt McCree lean forward sharply before he felt lips press against his nape, pressed further onto the ball in his mouth. His choked moan filled the cabin, quickly becoming a hum of pleasure as more kisses were gently pressed across his back.
Between kisses, McCree feverishly whispered sweet words, switching between powerful bucks and smooth grinding, pushing Hanzo closer to his climax second by second.
“You just love getting stuffed from both ends, don’t you?” And Hanzo came, spasms flowing through his body, uncaring if his custom suede upholstery was stained, uncaring if the indents his teeth left on the gear stick were permanent, completely uncaring of anything except his orgasm.
“Fuck!” And the mechanic followed shortly after.
---
“Thank you for your patience and payment, Mr. Shimada. Your car is as good as new.” Eyes full of false disdain, Hanzo eyed the mechanic standing next to his car. There never stood a better man there than Jesse McCree.
“Yes, well,” a small cough passed his lips as Hanzo walked towards the car, inspecting the outside with a critical eye, “it was my pleasure, Mr. McCree."
“Which time, sweetheart?” Hanzo glared at McCree, turning sharply to face him. He was going to miss the mechanic’s rambunctious laughter. “I’m just messing with ya, sug. I know it was the time on the couch.” He barely avoided the punch Hanzo threw at his arm. Perhaps Hanzo was wrong about missing the buffoon.
“All jokes aside, the car shouldn’t give you any trouble. Here are the keys and invoice.” McCree passed both items to Hanzo, opening the driver door for him. “Give me a call when you get to wherever it is you’re going.”
Hanzo paused while climbing into the car, righting himself to step up to McCree, wrapping his arms around the man to deliver a searing kiss. Separating, Hanzo bit McCree’s bottom lip, murmuring, “Consider that a tip.” He turned around only for McCree to slap his ass, feeling something stick to the seat of his pants. Reaching down, he peeled off an oil change sticker, except where it should have said “oil change”, it read--
“Sex appointment sticker?” His voice as well as his face deadpanned, in response to both the sticker and McCree’s smirk. Truly, he was going to miss this man.
“That’s right darlin’. You ever catch yourself around these parts, pay me a visit.” He ended it with a wink, hands pushing Hanzo down into the driver’s seat, closing the door before he could respond.
Hanzo sat dumbfounded for a few seconds, but quickly composed himself, looking out at McCree’s smiling face. With a small smile, he started the car, and drove off into the blistering heat, not looking back to the only mechanic shop for 50 miles.
---
[One week later]
McCree lied under an old Cadillac, attempting to screw a particularly slippery nut into place when he heard a car fast approaching. Curious, he rolled out, stepping out of his garage and looking out just in time to witness a Ferrari F60 America slowly crash directly into the tree in his front yard. He stood there, mouth agape, as the driver door opened, revealing none other than--
“Hanzo.” The name quietly left his lips, standing stock still, unmoving, completely frozen from shock.
Hanzo calmly approached the garage, eyes locked with McCree’s with every step. He stopped just short of colliding with the mechanic, leaning back slightly to look directly up into McCree’s wide eyes.
“It would seem that I forgot my wallet again.” Hanzo’s fingers traced McCree’s name tag, circling it as he spoke. “Can you help me, Mr. Mechanic?”
Shocked laughter passed McCree’s lips, smile spreading over his face as he dragged his arm across his brow, trying to compose himself. Eyes blinking rapidly, he looked from Hanzo to the car, eyes crawling back to Hanzo after a few moments.
“That … will not be an issue.” An even bigger smile than before spread across his face before he continued, “It will probably cost at least twice as much as the last job though. Think you can pay it?”
Stepping closer, Hanzo wrapped his arms around McCree’s neck. “With pleasure.”