In the Pocket: Ch. 1

I was going to hold off posting this until a bit later this month to make sure I was 100% satisfied, then I realized it was basically finished and I was just going to keep endlessly nitpicking until I posted it, instead of actually working on other things. So in order to get those other things done, here's your December Patreon reward, way earlier in the month than usual! Beta'd by bloomingcnidarians and mataglap, although I still made more changes after, lol. This chapter is definitely NSFW/Explicit. Features some handcuffy things, piercings, cockblocking, and the actual plot.

In case you missed it: In the Pocket: Prologue 

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The vacation had a whole lot going for it, not least of which was Hanzo running around in next to nothing all day long. Jesse had taken advantage of the quick access more than a few times already; he’d made it a personal mission to have sex in every room of the villa at least once, and they’d made good headway on that. The rental was big enough that it was the only thing they had been able to use some of the rooms for.

Hanzo didn’t seem to give a damn about quick and easy this time though, content instead to confine their activities to the master bedroom. Metal bit into Jesse’s wrists where he jerked at the handcuffs, rattling the headboard as Hanzo pressed a series of leisurely, feathery kisses along the inside of his thigh. Hanzo had started at the neck what felt like hours ago, worked his way down and paid special attention to Jesse’s nipples and to the tattoos on his torso: the red-tailed hawk under his collar bone, the desert tumbleweed that covered a shallow, jagged knife scar across his ribs, the sunburst over the old bullet hole, the last of which still made Jesse’s breath hitch all these years later. By now Jesse’s shoulders were starting to go numb and his cock was dripping its demands for attention onto his stomach, and Hanzo still hadn’t even touched it beyond the occasional infuriating brush of a loose strand of hair. 

Heat rose in the wake of Hanzo’s touch, fingertips tracing over belly and hips and thighs, while Hanzo’s mouth moved wet and ticklish over his balls then dipped lower, tongue flicking and swirling over his hole before it laved back upward. Jesse’s dick twitched and his stomach flexed, his whole body strung taut and ready.

“Stop squirming,” Hanzo commanded, but Jesse could hear the smile in his voice. A dry finger pet at Jesse’s hole, never actually breaching, and his mouth returned warm and wet to Jesse’s balls. 

“Stop teasin’ then,” Jesse grit out when he could.

Breath puffed over wet skin when Hanzo laughed, almost worse than anything his mouth had done directly. “I thought you liked takin’ yer time.” Hanzo’s imitation of Jesse’s accent had never really improved, but like everything else Hanzo did in bed, it still made Jesse’s pulse jump. “Especially on vacation.”

The handcuffs were a mistake. Some other time, this would be the point where he’d grab Hanzo by the hair and use his mouth, maybe push him around and fuck him proper. That was the usual goal when Hanzo riled him up like this. This time, though, all Jesse could do was strain at the cuffs and listen to Hanzo laugh, goosebumps prickling along his forearm and thigh muscles twitching. “Have mercy, darlin’.”

Whether it counted as mercy or not, at least Hanzo did something. He wrapped a hand around the base of Jesse’s cock and ran his tongue up the underside, lavished slow and careful attention over each of the barbells there. Hanzo’d requested them a few years back. Times like this, Jesse was more than happy he’d obliged him; it might still be torture, but it was a lot harder to be mad about. 

Then he finally reached the top, parted his lips around the crown, and Jesse’s head dropped back against the headboard with a wince and a hot rush of a sigh. The slick heat of his mouth was almost too much, but the loose glide of his lips wasn’t nearly enough. Jesse tried to thrust into it, tried to do anything that felt like he might actually gain some traction, but Hanzo only backed off, mouth sliding free until Jesse’s only option was to writhe impatiently and let his legs fall farther apart to make more room for Hanzo’s broad shoulders.

Hanzo rewarded his efforts by increasing the pressure when he started up again, lips sealing tight and slipping hot down the length of him, tighter still on the way up, all molten heat and slippery wetness and varying pressure. His fingers still teased at Jesse’s rim, which clenched and released slowly in anticipation for something Hanzo might not ever give. Jesse felt flushed, overheated, nails digging into his own palm to distract himself from the fast-building tension. Hanzo pulled back with a pleased little hum, lips and tongue fixated again on the head of Jesse’s cock, and Jesse had to bite at his own bicep to try to keep still, breath rushing hard out of his nose. 

Something buzzed at the edge of his consciousness, but the clutch of Hanzo’s mouth around him kept his mind from latching onto the sound, made him think he had to be imagining it. Then Hanzo’s lips popped off him, followed by a huff that blew a teasing gust of air over cooling saliva, and Jesse cursed. Without Hanzo threatening to suck out his last brain cell, Jesse came back to himself enough to finally hear the insistent knocking at the villa’s front door. 

“Don’t you dare,” Jesse panted, knowing full well that Hanzo would do whatever he pleased and Jesse’d let him, just like it had always been.

He half expected Hanzo to tease him some more or say something bossy, but Hanzo instead decided to be the sensible one. “This is supposed to be a private rental.” The buzzing started up again: Jesse’s phone. Hanzo’s eyes flew wide and he pushed in close, a brush of naked body that Jesse almost leaned into even now. But it was in order to free Jesse from the cuffs.

As soon as he got Jesse’s wrists free, Hanzo was out of the bed and pulling out the small handgun he carried when his bow was too big a burden. At the last second, he snatched a robe off the hook by the bedroom door. Jesse quickly massaged his organic hand back to life then reached for his gun soon as the fingers stopped tingling. 

He watched from the bedroom, poised to provide backup while Hanzo checked the peephole. Hanzo’s shoulders bunched, then they dropped into a laugh that shook his whole body. He smirked and cocked an eyebrow at Jesse, then he flung open the front door. 

“Cover up, I’m coming in!” shouted Genji’s voice from the doorway. Warning or not, he didn’t give Jesse any time to react before he walked right in, and of course Genji’s eyes wouldn’t just settle on his own damn brother. Jesse scrambled for anything at all and came up with his hat to hold over his flagging dick. “That was supposed to be a joke. Why are you like this?” 

“You’re the one bargin’ in while we’re on vacation. The hell else did you expect?” 

Genji pressed his fingers over his eyes, rubbing as if it could erase the image of Jesse with naught but a gun and his hat to cover what the good Lord gave him. “I don’t know, vacation stuff? Swimming? Shopping? Literally anything else.”

Jesse didn’t hear the rest. He’d finally gotten some sense shaken back into him, and he shut the bedroom door, leaving Hanzo to deal with Genji while he went on a hunt for clothes that didn’t look too dirty or rumpled from various pre-sex activities. He came up with a soft old t-shirt and a pair of swim trunks, which would have to do. It was Genji’s fault for interrupting anyway. No need to get too presentable on his behalf.

When he emerged, he found Genji sprawled out on one of the plush chairs in a way the furniture was plainly not designed for, neck bent back over one arm and his legs flung over the other. Hanzo stood nearby, unable to stop himself from glancing with dismay, over and over, at the packed bag Genji had brought. He didn’t look real relieved when Jesse entered either, which spelled some sort of trouble Jesse sure as hell wasn’t in the mood to deal with. Not after such an abrupt end to much more exciting endeavors. 

“Where you headin’ next?” Jesse asked, making sure his own glance at Genji’s bag was a lot less discreet. 

It was Hanzo who answered though. “My brother says he has come to take us to Overwatch, and he is not leaving until we agree to go with him.”

Genji turned his head just enough to look at Jesse and wink. More insulting than the expression itself, Jesse was almost certain winking when he knew he was being obnoxious was something he’d picked up from Jesse over the years. Hell of a time to throw it back in his face like that.

“Hope you liked seein’ me naked, then. You’re gonna have to get used to it.” Genji rolled his eyes and opened his mouth, but Jesse cut him off. “Didn’t anybody get the hint when we didn’t answer?”

“Jesse,” Hanzo began.

“What? It’s not like we’re gonna go.” Hanzo’s face was doing… something. A lot of somethings at once, really. Jesse felt his own face do a lot of somethings too. “We’re not, right?” he asked more softly. They’d been on the same page up until now. What the hell could Genji have said to change that? The straining silence made it easy to hear the quiet sound Genji made with his mouth: the kind meant to mimic a whip cracking. “I swear to God, Genji…”

“I think we should hear him out,” Hanzo finally said. He looked like his patience could shatter any minute, like he was gonna shift from this quiet restraint to the kind of vibrant, brilliant anger only Genji or Jesse — or both at once, sometimes — could inspire. That was all that kept Jesse from going off about just how many bodies he had to bury in his line of work and how willing he was to use all that practice to toss Genji out on his ass. Ninja or not, Jesse had to have a good thirty pounds on him, bare minimum; surely that counted for something.

As he moved tight-lipped to the couch, he could still hear that fucking whip crack reverberating in his head though. Genji’s toothy grin didn’t help at all. At least he rearranged himself to sit like a real human before he started talking again. “Everyone got your hint. Some of us assumed you would change your minds. You didn’t, so I am here to change them for you.”

“Great start,” Jesse muttered, and Genji rolled his eyes.

“You know who did join up?” Jesse didn’t answer that, and neither did Hanzo. Genji looked satisfied enough that he’d gotten their attention. “Winston, obviously. Angela. Some Dr. Zhou from an old research team. We just recruited another medic whose other job is as a DJ. If it turns out he’s good in a fight, there are five of us who might have field combat training beyond the basics. Two of those are new and one is Reinhardt, who— he is a valuable asset, but he is hardly in his prime.”

Hanzo asked, “Who are they? There’s the DJ, you, Reinhardt…”

“Tracer and Fareeha Amari. Reinhardt has mentioned bringing on his… protégé, but it sounds like her talents lie in engineering.”

“Fareeha’s a damn professional, and Angie can hold her own,” Jesse said slowly, but even being stubborn, he knew Angie did her best work — and preferred to remain — out of the fray.

“Six wouldn’t be enough either. You two aren’t going to be enough. But it would be more, and it would be people who’ve done all this before.”

“It is unlike you to be so invested,” Hanzo said.

If Genji were the type prone to blushing, he might have right then, but as it was, his mouth just flattened into a straight line and he glanced at the floor. When he looked back up, he wore the same devil-may-care smile he always did, but Jesse didn’t think anybody in the room was buying it. “Oh, you know, all the travel and parties were getting repetitive. And I don’t want to be the only one there who remembers Blackwatch as something more than a scandal.” The smile wavered. “And I miss my brother.”

That was it then. Jesse could see it all over Hanzo’s face. Genji did whatever he pleased, dropped in and out of their lives between one adventure and another. He had claimed for a while now he was “finding himself,” but mostly he’d found himself at concerts and in strangers’ beds all over the world. Unless it was Hanzo talking privately to Jesse, neither Shimada was real expressive about their feelings either. So if anything could convince Hanzo, it would be some hint of ambition or earnestness, and Genji had displayed both at once. Jesse might have felt manipulated by it if he weren’t so sure it was sincere. 

A headache began to form behind his eyes. “I’ll let you two catch up.”

First he went beachside to give them their privacy. He also might have been looking to rub it in when he video called Angie; someone had to appreciate what Overwatch was interrupting. “Jesse!” She answered so brightly that it was suspicious, especially after all the times he’d called in a favor or needed medical attention. She knew Genji had come, then. She had to.

Even if she was in on the scheme, it felt good to talk to her, and better when she got Fareeha to join in. It had been so long since he’d seen either of them, and there they were in one place, happy in each other’s company and smiling at him. It was at least as persuasive as anything Genji might have said to Hanzo, even before they got around to talking about the Recall. They didn’t really push; sure, they exchanged a disappointed look like Jesse wasn’t right there to see it, but they seemed willing enough to accept his mumbled, “I’ll think about it.”

They talked until his tablet’s battery started to fade and the sweat adhering his shirt to his body grew too unpleasant. On his way back to the bedroom, he had to pass by Hanzo ⁠and Genji again. Hanzo had taken the time to get fully dressed, and he sat stiffly on the low couch, just bristling with tension. Jesse considered swinging by to offer some support or steal a kiss, but the conversation sounded heated. His Japanese had gotten a lot better over the years, but he didn’t think his ear would ever be good enough to keep up with more than one native speaker at a time. He could make out a word here and there, but they spoke too quickly for him. Even with his limitations, it was obvious they were already having some kind of argument though. 

No way was he getting in the middle of that. Still thinking about how damp his shirt had gotten and how much he needed to relax, he figured a soak in the stupidly big tub would kill two birds with one stone. Even with all the places they had traveled, it wasn’t often he could find a bathtub large enough for him to stretch out. He tried to appreciate the rare indulgence and clear his mind, but Overwatch and Winston’s Recall kept creeping back in. 

His life was better because of them. Without Overwatch, chances were high he’d be in either prison or a shallow grave. He never would have met Gabe or Jack or Ana, never would have met Angie or Fareeha or Genji. Never would have met the love of his life. That didn’t mean he owed them anything now though. 

None of the old promises had stuck. Jesse might have been fine with the life he and Hanzo had built, but he still knew their creativity had been born from otherwise limited prospects. Overwatch had taken all they could give, and in return they had nothing to show for it but bad reputations and a world no better off than before. It had taken even more from Ana, from Gabe and Jack, and they’d been the ones at the helm. They’d paid the highest prices, but some way or another, everybody Overwatch had ever touched had been chewed up and spit out.

He didn’t really blame Winston. Something huge was coming down the pipe; any glance at the news was enough to convince him of that. But there were other ways to survive and other ways to fix shit. Overwatch didn’t have to be the only answer.

Hanzo came in while the bath was still steaming. He settled on the edge of the tub and flicked a spray of water at Jesse. “Rude,” Jesse muttered, but it was hard to hold back the tiny smile that came with it.

“May I join you?” 

“Tub’s way too big for one. I was startin’ to feel lonely.” 

Even distracted and annoyed with their current situation, he didn’t mind watching Hanzo peel his shirt off, muscles stretching and bunching with each movement. It wasn’t meant to be a show though; no matter how much Hanzo smirked like he knew Jesse was watching, he still got naked quick and without much fanfare. 

He eased into the water and toward Jesse, whose knees fell farther apart to accommodate him more or less by instinct. “Well, hi,” Jesse said dumbly as Hanzo slotted up against him, warm skin slick with sudsy water.

“Hi.” Hanzo nudged at Jesse’s nose with his own. It was even harder to brood like this, too easy to let Hanzo crowd that headspace with a smile and a kiss and the slippery slide of their chests and bellies.

“You sounded grumpy out there.”

Hanzo made a face at that, flicked more water at him. “This was supposed to be a week just for us,” he answered, and Jesse could only nod in agreement. It had been kind of overshadowed by Genji trying to drag them back to Overwatch, but the timing was piss poor too. Why couldn’t Genji have crashed when they were stuck in some rathole motel tracking down another dirtbag?

He didn’t have to say all that out loud though. Hanzo knew. “Shoulda let me blow you in the kitchen before we had a guest,” Jesse said instead. 

Hanzo snorted. “I was worried about your knees. That floor is unforgiving.” He let his hair down then, and Jesse couldn’t help but touch, curling a lock of it around wet fingers. 

“Real sweet of you.” He drew Hanzo toward him again, and Jesse thought this was the part where they’d kiss and he’d get a pleasant distraction from the day’s events, but Hanzo only pressed their foreheads together with a sigh.

“We should discuss this.” 

Jesse couldn’t help the small groan that escaped, but he couldn’t find it in him to disagree either. He didn’t have to ask what Hanzo meant. “I don’t think I wanna go back there.” Hanzo was bracing himself with a hand on Jesse’s right arm. Although the memorial tattoos were years old now, the present circumstances and Hanzo’s thumb tracing slowly over his skin made him keenly aware of them. The flower for his mother had nothing to do with this, but there were flowers for Ana and Jack and Gabe, and he felt that ache like it was new again. “We got out for a reason.”

“I know. I promised you a long time ago that wherever you go, I will follow,” Hanzo said fondly, damp fingers pushing Jesse’s hair from his face. “But we should review our options. There is no guarantee it will be the same as before. The circumstances have changed.” Jesse grunted at that; however Hanzo had meant it, it was another reminder that their leadership had changed. “And I admit there is some appeal to staying in one place for a time. Perhaps spending time with family.”

“Genji’s been here two hours and you already threatened to kill him.”

Hanzo laughed. “He intruded here. But I did miss him.”

Jesse could understand that. Most days, Hanzo was all the company he could ever need, but he had to admit that the sight of Angie and Fareeha had made him happy, made him realize how long it had been since he’d last seen them. Might be nice to spend the kinda time with them that didn’t require some whirlwind conversation to catch each other up to speed. Be nice to be part of their everyday lives instead. And once the irritation wore off over the how and why of his visit, it’d be nice to spend time with Genji again too.

Still the doubts ate at him. “And if it is the same as before? Same shit happens as in Geneva?” Hanzo didn’t seem to have an answer for that, only a quiet grunt and a wrinkle between his brows. “You know what it’d do to me if something happened to you?”

Hanzo’s fingers curled around his left arm, over the scarred flesh just above the port for his prosthetic. Jesse didn’t have to be a genius to know what memory Hanzo was thinking of. “I would be no more at risk than in our current job, and there is medical care readily available. No more back alley doctors or begging Angela.” Jesse chuckled at that. They’d been fortunate that they usually got whatever care they needed, but Jesse had strained Angie’s good graces more than a few times asking after supplies she never should’ve given him. “And this may shield us from bounty hunters and lend us some legitimacy.” That mattered too; most other hunters kept to an unspoken rule not to fuck with any of their own, but there were a few who’d been tempted by the crazy high price on their heads. Those few had learned the hard way why Jesse and Hanzo were the best in the business, but it didn’t mean it wasn’t a pain to live looking over their shoulders.

“What about the rest?” 

“We saw it coming before, and we got out before. We could do the same again, and warn the people we love more easily if we catch it early from the inside.” Hanzo said it so matter-of-fact. He did this easier than Jesse did: argued a point just to tease it apart, whether or not he bought the logic by the end of it. Hard to tell this time if it was all cold analysis or if he wanted to talk Jesse into something, but Jesse found it persuasive either way.

“Is that what you wanna do then, honey? Give up long vacations and makin’ our own schedule to go running back to Overwatch?” Jesse laughed at that. “Thought you hated it there.”

“It would be freely chosen this time, and you know I don’t accept a job without a proper negotiation,” Hanzo said with a small smile. 

Jesse instinctively smiled back, though the whole conversation was making him tired. “I’m startin’ to suspect you just wanna be one of the good guys,” he teased, and Hanzo rolled his eyes. It was exactly the reaction he’d expected. “Gimme some time to think about it.” 

Hanzo nodded and Jesse pulled him in again, aiming to finally get that kiss. Hanzo indulged him this time, leaning in so Jesse could kiss him deep and run his hands over as much slick, soapy skin as he could reach. It was only when Jesse let his mouth go to get at his neck that Hanzo asked, “This is what counts as ‘thinking about it’?”

“Mmhmm, givin’ it some serious thought,” Jesse murmured against his skin. Hanzo chuckled and let Jesse drag their hips together, the coil of heat in his belly growing quickly after their earlier interruption. It spiraled tighter and hotter still when Hanzo’s hand closed around his cock. They had several false starts, interspersed with quiet cursing and laughing, because the luxurious tub may have been large enough for two, but it didn’t make it any less treacherous than any other wet ceramic. Hanzo threatened to overbalance and break both their noses more than once, but once Jesse sat up straighter they managed to work it out. 

Calluses dragged over his hip and thigh, the roughness apparent even with the soapy water slicking up his skin. Then Hanzo’s hand closed around his dick again, and Jesse made a sound that was half groan, half breathless laugh as his grip grew firmer, working it over with these precise, practiced motions. Hanzo swallowed the sound and swept his tongue into Jesse’s open mouth, crowded in close until his cock sat hard against  Jesse’s hip.

Jesse settled one hand in the dip of Hanzo’s back to hold him close, but he felt useless to do much else. Between the pent up tension from earlier and Hanzo knowing exactly how to wind Jesse up, it all seemed to go too quickly. The hot press of Hanzo’s body against his, the glide of slippery skin, it was too much all around. 

With a mighty amount of willpower, Jesse at least got his hand between them, their knuckles bumping against each other as he wrapped clumsy fingers around Hanzo’s cock. Their kiss grew sloppier still, tongues and breaths spilling between their gasping, clinging mouths. The world seemed to narrow to just the two of them, blood rushing in Jesse’s ears, heat sparking white hot in his gut. He tensed, panting and unable to keep up with the kiss any more, and he came with a shudder. He didn’t feel real coordinated right then, but it must have been good enough, because Hanzo didn’t take much longer.

By the time they were finished, they had spilled water all over the floor and needed to run a fresh bath to clean up, but Jesse was in a far better mood than when he’d arrived. Hanzo looked mighty pleased with himself, and Jesse did his best not to tease him about it. In return, Hanzo didn’t tease him about how long he took to groom his facial hair afterward ⁠— probably for the best, since he did most of that grooming for Hanzo’s sake anyway. A man could only take so many complaints about beard burn in sensitive places before he started looking into the surprisingly wide world of oils, balms and conditioners.

Once they’d both groomed and dressed, Hanzo asked, “Are you ready to be civil to our guest now?”

Jesse snorted. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll be with you in a minute, sweetheart.”

With Hanzo out of the room, Jesse dug through his things until he found Peacekeeper’s cleaning kit, feeling funny about it the whole way. They didn’t keep secrets. Each lived more or less in the other’s pocket, and they had never needed much privacy, not from each other. But Hanzo didn’t ever touch this, any more than Jesse would’ve touched his bow without asking. Jesse pushed the solvent aside and thumbed open the little pocket he’d stitched in between the liner and the outer casing. 

The ring felt too light in his palm, nowhere near weighty enough for all it represented. He’d spent years waffling over the choice until he finally picked up this plain gold band on pure impulse a couple months back. He hadn’t found a way to ask yet. There’d never been a good time for it. Hard to imagine a real wedding for friends and family scattered around the globe, and more than a little pointless to try to do a civil ceremony ⁠if it would just attract the law, or bounty hunters, or what remained of the Shimadas.

But Hanzo’d mentioned family and legitimacy, and now the words rang in his head. The friends and family that mattered had answered the Recall, all of them together in one place. If they could restore Overwatch to its old influence, get the Petras Act overturned, they might could renegotiate the charges they’d wracked up, same way Gabe had done when Jesse was a kid. Maybe this time he could even make it stick. Hell, marriage or not, it’d be nice to get their names off the wanted lists.

He tucked the ring carefully back in its hiding spot and went to track down Hanzo again. “Let’s do it,” he said. “Let’s go play hero.”