Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Cole Cassidy sulked against the bar counter.  Overwatch had called for Blackwatch coverage as they met up with a contact in a Hanamura club tonight.  Standing around on lookout was not his kind of mission, too dull, too few explosions.

Him and a few other agents had been set up as plainclothesmen around the perimeter, staggered throughout the area to maximize coverage blah blah blah surveillance watch blah bleh bluh whatever else Reyes had said.  

Didn't matter what the old man had said, really, Cole was annoyed with him.  Cassidy wasn't even allowed to carry his gun!  The indignity!  Peacekeeper had been stuffed inside the backpack Cole had set down on the seat beside him, packed away on orders in case of a body search in case Cole stealthed about poorly.

A man botches one undercover mission - which hadn’t even been his fault, because Agent Igitabo had bumped into him and that’s why Cole fell into a bookshelf, which set off a domino effect that knocked over half the shelves in the massive library where they were going to intercept a crook selling a flashdrive with Lesotho’s government files - and suddenly he's on a tight leash.

So tight it was choking him.  The summer air was as stale as the night and he had been nursing his drink for an hour now.  If nothing was gonna happen tonight, he should at least be allowed to get drunk.

His head itched, thanks to the blonde he had had to bleach it for an undercover assignment at a beach last week, chest aching from a waxing gone wrong for the same damn mission because apparently only hairless chihuahuas could lifeguard at the rich ladies club where a gangster’s girlfriend frequented, and a knick on his chin stung from Reyes making him shave off the beginnings of his regrowing beard, citing that he had to not look like hobo and kicked out of the very nice club.  

Undercover mission make-overs suuuucked.   He missed his beard, and having a non-itchy head, why couldn't he just get drunk?

This was the third night of negotiations, meeting up with this guy once every three weeks for talks.  It sounded like he had info to give them, but he was good at bartering.  Wasn't giving it for free.  Seemed like he was working towards his own end goal.

Didn't surprise Cole.  The man - Genji Shimada - was, surprise, a Shimada.  That hyper-traditional family as Reyes had called them had been causing just enough trouble to be on Blackwatch's radar, but good enough that there was barely anything to tie back to them.  The biggest breaks Blackwatch had received had come from Overwatch's newest informant, Genji.

That man was the reason that Blackwatch had been called in for this talk.  He was getting more paranoid every meeting, more convinced that someone would find him, and he refused to meet with Overwatch unless security was beefed up.

Cole had been told to keep an eye out for guys in suits and sunglasses perusing the club and had been given a couple photos of likely suspects who would come looking for Genji.  Security guards #1, #2, and #3, not the most informative titles but Genji refused to give them the guards’ names.  Said something about how " this isn't about them, it's about my family, and I know your organization would take their names and never leave them alone just because they’re doing their jobs. "

It was a cute sentiment, him protecting his subordinates.  If Overwatch wanted those men's names, it would get them.  And if Genji didn't realize that, well... that explained why he was second in line for the throne.  That and his stubborn, demanding nature.

The man first in line for the Shimada throne was the last picture that Cole had been given to memorize.  Hanzo Shimada.  They had said it was unlikely that he would be sent, as he was probably too important for such menial tasks, but he was the next likely candidate according to Genji.

To be honest, Cole looked at his smug-ass face, his slicked-back hair, and his dumb little suit and vest he was wearing and figured that there was no way that someone as pompous as he had heard the man was would belittle himself by descending from his throne to stand alongside the little people.  Looked like the kind of man that went to bed at 10 pm sharp and considered a handshake a day’s worth of intimacy.

Cassidy gave a quick glance around the club, scanning the area.  No one suspicious was around, and his position by the door would make it easy to see if any of their targets entered.  He quietly pressed his radio once, passing along a whispered message of all clear .

He took another itty-bitty sip of his drink and sighed.  The crowded club was dark save for the pulsing, colorful lights.  It stank of cologne and perfume and booze, both spilled and puked.  The bass-heavy music pulsed and thumped, making the floor vibrate under his feet.

Frankly, it was all giving him a headache.  He had never gone to clubs before when growing up out in the country but felt more at home in a firefight than he did on a dancefloor.  The sooner he could get out of this mess and back to somewhere quiet, the better.

He gazed longingly towards the door, aching to step outside and get a fresh breath of the cool night air.  As he silently grumbled about the sweat rolling down his back, the bodies grinding against each other in the club making the place hot and steamy in all the wrong ways, he saw him.

A man entered the building, dark hair slicked back, and a pissed look on his regal face.  Instead of his dumb little suit and vest that Cole had been informed about, he wore a tight long-sleeve button-down shirt that wrapped tightly around his narrow waist, a tight pair of pants that cut off at his slim ankles, and leather loafers on his feet and dark gloves on his hands that reflected the club’s lights.  

Of all the people in the world, Hanzo Shimada, the worst possible person, had just walked through the door.

Fuck.

Fuckity fuck shit.

The man's dark eyes scanned around the room.  He was searching.  Looking for his brother, no doubt.  This was worst-case scenario.

They had orders to prevent the two brothers from meeting under any circumstances possible.  But as Cole eyed his backpack, he remembered the mission briefing from his boss...

"...And if any of the guards or the elder brother, Hanzo Shimada shows up, we have to delay them by any means necessary so that Genji can be escorted out unseen." Reyes had said, turning to draw their perimeter set-up on the whiteboard behind him, "Send a warning - two beeps on the radio - and intercept.  Are there any questions?"

Cole raised his hand.

"No, violence should be used as a very last resort," Reyes said without turning around.

Cole lowered his hand.

It had been well established that there was a preferred method to resolving this situation, and no bullets were allowed.  If Cole didn't act soon, he would be crossing the floor and nearing the back corner that the talk was taking place in.

Hanzo neared barside, taking advantage of the folks sitting to more easily walk around the crowded dancefloor.  It was clear that the elder wasn't in the mood for clubbing tonight, none of the girls flirting with him as he walked by even made him break his stride.

If he wasn't here to drink, to dance, or to fuck, the standard club fare, then it was clear he was here to retrieve someone he thought was.

Cole pressed his radio twice, sending in two beeps as a warning, and made a split-second decision to stall him.

As Hanzo crossed behind him, Cole, with his half-full glass in hand, turned and stood, colliding with him.  The two men smacked into each other, with Cole's drink getting poured down his shirt, and they stumbled together until they caught themselves; Hanzo grasped onto the counter to avoid hitting the floor, and Cole ended up pinned between the elder heir and the sticky bar counter.

He knew what was coming next.  The man would yell and roar, spittle no doubt flying in the close proximity, cuss him out for ruining his clothes with his drink, probably pull the don't you know who I am card, and probably ask for Cole's head on a platter or something.  This wasn’t the first rich brat that Cole had ever dealt with. He braced himself for the coming chaos.

But it never came.  Hanzo was silent as he took a moment to ensure they were steady and then looked up at Cole.

"Motto chūi shite kudasai," Hanzo began before he realized that Cole was foreign and started again, "I apologize.  Are you alright?"

His quiet tone caught Cole off-guard.  

"I- uh, yeah, I think-" Cole replied, trying to keep him talking and distracted, "Are- Are you?  I mean, I spilled my drink on you and ruined your shirt-"

"It's fine.  It will wash out or it won’t, and if it doesn't come out it's just a shirt." Hanzo shrugged, pausing as he looked Cole up and down slowly, "I didn't hurt you, did I?" 

"No, no, I'm good, I... think," Cole replied, dumbfounded.  This conversation was quite a few decibels lower than he had figured it would be.

"Please take a moment and make sure.  You shouldn't bear the brunt of my recklessness." Hanzo sighed and shook his head, eyes still roaming up and down Cole’s body, "I was so focused on finding someone, I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings."

Shit, he was looking for Genji.  It was confirmed now.  Cole had to keep this piece of shit distracted.

"I-huh." Cole coughed, "I think you knocked the wind out of me, to be honest.  I'm gonna need a second.."

"Do you feel faint?" Hanzo asked, concerned.

Oh, did he?  He'd feel ten shades of purple and green if kept Hanzo Shimada occupied.

"I- could, I- I need a second," Cole murmured, his acting oscar-worthy, "Do you mind?"

He could see the Shimada's eyes widen in concern.  If Hanzo felt personally responsible for hurting Cole then Cole was gonna turn into the biggest baby tonight and milk his boo-boos for all he was worth.

"Not at all.  Sit, please." Hanzo said, assisting Cole back onto the barstool, hand resting on his lower back as he kept a grip on him, "Did you have a drink- Oh, right.  I’m wearing it."

Hanzo tapped the bar and the bartender immediately began to cater to him.  Though all he ordered was water for Cole, it was clear that if Hanzo had asked the bartender to shake his drink up by only doing front flips and cartwheels, the man would have obliged.

The man held power here.  He didn’t act like an overlord, but he didn’t have to.   The stools around them had cleared out as well, as others skulked away, intent of making space from the heir while he was distracted.  That wasn’t a good sign if none were willing to risk crossing him.  What kind of grip did the Shimada clan have on this city?

Hanzo encouraged Cole to drink the glass before he spoke once more.  

“What’s your name, friend?” Hanzo started conversationally.

Cole knew better than to give his real name, that was dumb, but it would be dumber to give a fake name that he forgot.  That had happened before, and it had messed a lot of shit up.

To be honest, he wasn’t sure what name to give.  He had been running around as someone else ever since he had joined up with Ashe and started building the Deadlock gang.  On paper, he was still using that name, though he had never really felt as if it fit just right.

It would grow on him, he was sure.  Still responded to it like a well-trained dog, he turned when he heard the J sound coming out of someone’s mouth, but there were times he missed being just Cole, not that he could tell anyone that.  But to be standing here, being allowed to tell someone what he wanted to be called, was an opportunity he hadn’t prepared for.

Couldn’t give the name he was running with now.  Couldn’t give his real name either, didn’t want that on the mission report, but he saw the chance to fill that little Cole hole that had been missing in his life lately and try to quiet down that small nag in his head and heart once and for all.

“Joel.” he gave as an answer.  It started with the same sound that he went by now, sounded like Cole not that anyone else would notice or care.  Joel would work fine here.

“Pleased to meet you, Joel, you’re… you...hmmm, it’s nice to meet you,” Hanzo said, eyes lingering on the part of Cole’s chest that was exposed thanks to his low-cut button-up tee, “My name is Hanzo.  Shimada Hanzo.”

“Take it you’re from here?” Cole asked a question that he would already know an answer to, but Joel would not.

“Born and raised in this city, more or less.  I know most everyone here.  But not you.” Hanzo said, “You’re not from here.  Visiting then?”

Shit, Cole hadn’t planned on a backstory for talking to this tightass rich kid.  He hated being put on the spot.

“I-uh, yeah.  Yeah, on a trip here.” Cole nodded, mind racing as he tried to come up with a reason for being here.

“On Business?” Hanzo asked, his hand rubbing gentle circles on Cole’s back, “Or pleasure?”

“Pleasure… I think.  Took a, uh, a gap year in college-” that was something that civilians did, right? “-Decided to go traveling, try to find myself, enjoy life’s little pleasures for a while, at least until I run outta money which is cutting it close, and ended up here.” he shrugged.  It was as good a reason as any, wasn’t it?

Hanzo’s hand paused on his back as it registered what Cole had said.  It slowly lifted away from his body as Hanzo turned and leaned against the counter besides Cole, facing him.

“Then do you have a hotel room already?  My family has a few friends visiting for business and they tend to… fill establishments up and book out the place.” Hanzo began, “Because if you do, I’d be happy to walk you there considering I’ve inconvenienced you, and if you don’t, I have enough pull to get you a room to stay at least the night.”

Welp, Cole couldn’t lie about having a room already, otherwise, they’d be going straight to the Blackwatch operations area or walking to nowhere all night and he’d be caught in a lie.  So, instead, he would just have to make himself look like the most disorganized traveler to ever exist.

“Aw, shit, I didn’t think about getting a room in advance.  Usually one is available wherever I roll up.  You really think you could get me a bed for the night?” Cole asked, lowering his head and looking up at the elder Shimada heir with his signature puppy dog pout, “I would really, really ‘ppreciate it.”

The tight shirt did nothing to hide the small, sharp intake of air that Hanzo took when their eyes met.  Cole was surprised it seemed to work.  The pout hadn’t affected any of the hardasses at Overwatch since the day he was booted out of the interrogation room and straight into a uniform.  Out of everyone, though, he hadn’t expected this quarterbouncer to be the one to fall for it.

Hanzo cleared his throat and straightened up before he leaned in towards Cole, hand slinking down and coming to rest on his thigh.  How poor was this guy’s sense of balance?

“Of course, I know I can.  You’ve nothing to worry about,” Hanzo said, his hand beginning to slide up Cole’s thigh towards his body, “I’ll take care of you.  It’s what my family does.  We take care of people in Hanamura, whether you’re here for a day or a lifetime.  You can trust me.”

Cole glanced down at the hand, the movement stopping once his eyes locked onto it.  “Glad to hear it.  Mind if we headed out now?” he asked.

“Not at all.” Hanzo leaned back and, ever the gentleman, offered Cole a hand.  To get off a barstool.  What kind of pansy-ass topsy-turvy dingaling was Shimada taking him for?  He could get off a damn chair.

But slapping away the hand would lose him points in the Hanzo’s attention meter and since keeping this piece of shit distracted was the goal, well, then tonight Cole was a pansy-ass topsy-turvy dingaling.

Feet now on the floor, Hanzo waited for Cole to grab his bag and then led him out of the club.  The early evening had darkened into a moonlit night, with the cool night air cuttingly chill.

“So which way to the hotel?” Cole asked.  To be honest, there was a thrill in this for him.  Not only was he spending Shimada family money and making them waste it on him, but he could also actually stay in the room for the night and not have to sleep in the tub while his Blackwatch roommate snored the night away in the bedroom.

“Oh, it’s- we’ll get there soon.” Hanzo seemed a lot less interested in getting to the hotel than he had been in the club.  In fact, he was engrossed on his phone now, sending a message.  “Have you eaten dinner tonight?”

Cole hadn’t expected to be asked that.  Truth be told - and why lie now? - he hadn’t.

“No, sir.  Went to the club for a drink, lost track of time, kinda starving now.” Cole honestly confessed.

Hanzo raised his head and stared at Cole for a moment.  “I’ll get us some dinner.  I haven’t eaten lunch, I was too preoccupied with family matters, and could use a meal as well.” he said, quietly adding, “And, please, don’t call me sir.  Not yet.”

Cole’s head tilted, unseen by a distractedly-texting Hanzo.

What did he mean by not yet?

“Anywhere open to go eat at this time?” Cole had to ask.  Hanamura was an odd city size.  Big enough to house luxuries, but small enough to feel homey, at least as far as Cole had seen.

“A few establishments.  I’ve got a standing reservation established for a favorite place of mine.” Hanzo replied, waving Cole to walk beside him as he continued to text, “Any allergies I should know about?”

“None I know of.  Never had the food try to take me down with it yet.” Cole replied sincerely.

Hanzo seemed amused by the reply if that dumb tick of a grin that flashed briefly onto his dumb lips was anything to go by.  “Do you eat meat?” he asked next.

That, thankfully, was an easy question to answer.  

“Hell yeah!  All kinds!” Cole said enthusiastically, “Ain’t ever been a piece of meat I don’t like.”

His enthusiasm must have been a bit juvenile, because a small, easily missable grin curled onto Hanzo’s lips for a brief moment.

“I’m glad to hear,” Hanzo responded, lip twitching once more before the smile slid away, “I’ve a treat for you tonight.” and quietly he added, “More if you’re willing.”

What?  Why wouldn’t Cole be willing for more free food?  If being a poor orphan had taught him anything, you don’t turn down a free meal.  Getting two in a row?  Mother.  Fucking.  Jackpot.

He may have hated Hanzo Shimada on principle, but if distracting him got Cole a free meal and room, then Cassidy wouldn’t mind booking a few more playdates with the man.  He could jingle his keys for the guy and keep him busy, Genji wouldn’t have to shit himself in fear of his brother, and Hanzo would be dumb and spend money on him for some reason.  It was, like, the perfect plan.  

Cole would try to sell Reyes on Operation Jingle Keys once he made it back to the room.  He had a feeling his supervisor wouldn’t be as excited about this plan as Cole was.

Conversation was sparse as Hanzo led them to the backdoor of a restaurant.  The Shimada’s heir’s knuckles rapped against the wood, and instantly the door was opened by a small, thin man in a suit.

Words were exchanged in Japanese, only a few caught by Cole.  He had been briefed on the language during the week of mission set-up, and from what he heard, he assumed the man Hanzo was talking to was the owner of the establishment.  Hanzo had asked for “best food” or something, calling Cole a guest.  What else was said, he didn’t know, but soon the two men were being escorted inside by the owner.

They were taken to a private room, briefly crossing the crowded restaurant floor.  The bustle and chatter of the full tables and rushing waiters was immediately silenced as the door to their private room was shut behind them.  Apparently, privacy had been requested.

Hanzo pulled out a chair for Cole, inviting the man to sit.  As soon as he obliged him, Hanzo then rounded the small table, sitting gracefully in the seat across from Cole.

“I’ve asked for two glasses of water and a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon, which should arrive soon.  The wine will pair well with our main course, but if you wish to slake your thirst with a different drink, don’t hesitate to tell me.” Hanzo said, sliding some menus in front of Cole, “I’ve already ordered a partial Kaiseki for us tonight, a few select pieces from the chef’s special as I wanted to make sure there was room for the main dish tonight, but please look these over.  Tell me if anything catches your eye.  Speak and it will be yours.”

Cole’s eyebrows shot up, his mind still reeling from the turn of events.  How had he gone from being a watchdog on a nightclub meet-and-greet with a Shimada turncoat to sitting in a private room of a bougie, fancy-ass restaurant with the clan’s heir treating him to a meal?  God, Gabe was gonna kill him for disappearing without a trace, wasn’t he?

Cole was just doing what he was told.  Keep the brothers apart.  And that’s what he was doing.  Eating an expensive, once-in-a-lifetime meal with the most dangerous possible person, that oddly endearing piece of shit, sitting across from him.  He was doing nothing wrong.

In fact, perusing the menu was intel-gathering.  Absolutely.  His mouth was watering as he looked at the pictures on the menu, his empty stomach rumbling, all of it was just brilliant acting on his part.

“What’s a Ya- Yub...Yubari Melon?” Cole asked, raising his head to look at Hanzo.  The menu item names were listed in English characters next to the kanji, but descriptions were not.

Hanzo didn’t hesitate to reply.  “Delicious.  A ripe, juicy melon.  Think of it as the best possible cantaloupe you will ever eat in your life.  That is a promise.” Hanzo straightened up in his seat, continuing before Cole could even imagine what the best possible cantaloupe would taste like exactly because most he had eaten tasted exactly the same.  “We should get one.”

“Well, I-” Cole didn’t realize that him just saying the name of an item was gonna make it appear on the table, thanks to Hanzo’s eagerness to buy.  That was terrifying.  It was like the dumbest kind of curse.  What if Cole cussed and said, “Aw, shit nuggets.”  What would Hanzo do then?

Even if it had been possible for Cole to change Hanzo’s mind, he had no real chance to speak before a server entered their room with waters, two empty wine glasses, a chilled bottle of wine, and two plates with the tiniest little pieces of decorated sushi.

Hanzo spoke to the waiter as the plate was placed in front of him, translating for Cole once he was finished.  “We'll be having the melon for dessert.  I’m also ordering some sake to drink with the appetizers for myself, I’m indulging myself tonight in a few ways, so would you like any?”

Fuck, alcohol was alcohol, but it always tasted better when someone else was buying.  

“Sure,” Cole said with an agreeable shrug.  There was a thrill to making Hanzo and his corrupt family waste money on lil’ ol’ him.  He wouldn’t turn into a diva tonight, but he wouldn’t turn down what he was offered.

“If you’ve any questions about what’s on your plate, please ask.  I’m happy to explain,” Hanzo began, gently picking up the fancy chopsticks on his side of the table, bypassing the silverware.  Cole had similarly wrapped chopsticks and silverware.  He had never eaten with chopsticks before.  He wasn’t sure tonight was the night to try.

Hanzo, despite being a terrible person, was a good host.  He noticed Cole’s trepidation and eased his worries.  “Eat however you're comfortable.  There’s no one in here to judge.” he told Cole, “And if you wish for assistance attempting to use the chopsticks, I’ll gladly teach you.”

Cole wasn’t sure that he wanted Hanzo’s help.  If he didn’t have to eat with the chopsticks, why bother?

But, he reluctantly had to admit, if he kept Hanzo focused on him, then he had less time to think about his brother and what Genji might be doing.  He had to jingle the keys once more.

“I’ll give ‘em a try.” he said, “How do you-?”

Hanzo tried to explain it to him, his voice even, no sign of annoyance or displeasure at having to give a lesson.  “Like this,” he said, holding up his hand for Cole to see, “Cradle the bottom one between your thumb and index finger, and move the top chopstick up and down like a lever.”

Unfortunately, the example didn’t help Cole’s clumsy fingers.  They fumbled around the thin sticks, unable to mirror the hold Hanzo demonstrated.

Hanzo stared pityingly at Cole’s struggles.  “May I?” he asked quietly.

Cole’s eyes narrowed before he replied.  May he?  May he what exactly?  What was he gonna do?  Was he asking permission to laugh at Cole?  Cassidy knew he looked dumb, but that dumb?... Maybe.  Hanzo wouldn’t be the first to think so.

“Sure?” Cole tried, still unsure what “may” he was allowing to happen. Hanzo’s chair scooted against the floor as he stood, and Cole’s blood ran cold as another thought hit him.  Didn’t yakuzas, like, cut off fingers?  Were Cole’s fingers about to get cut off?  Was his whole hand?

Instead, Hanzo came to stand beside Cole’s chair, his still-gloved hands carefully maneuvering Cole’s into the proper position.  The leather gloves were top-quality, of course, soft and well-made, with the warmth from Hanzo’s hands bleeding through the material.  It sent a shiver down Cole’s spine, and his eyes were locked onto his hands as Hanzo gently manhandled him.

“Like that,” Hanzo said, his broad shoulder brushing against Cole’s as he stood over him, his head nearly level with Cole’s as he bent over.  He was close enough now that Cole could smell his cologne, a scent that had been lost in the body-spray-filled club and stolen away by the night breeze.  But here, alone in this quiet room with the Shimada heir right beside him, he could smell every dollar that had gone into the luxury cologne, and by God was it worth it.

He smelled the freshness of lemon and lavender, coupled with the delicious herbiness of rosemary and earthiness of rosewood and geranium on top of the muskiness of cedar, sandalwood, patchouli. That, along with the other more subtle, unknown notes and Hanzo’s natural scent made for a rush of headiness.  It was a cologne that sent his blood south, that was made for spraying onto a pillowcase to bury one’s head into on lonely nights when only the only company was a hand, a smell reminiscent of pleasure-filled nights that had been too good to remember.

His throat grew thick and his face grew warm as Hanzo guided him in picking up a piece of sushi, the man’s large hands wrapped around his own.  There was a twitchy-flinch that Cole kept buried in his gut despite how a sensation so soft, foreign really, forgotten since he had been a child, left him in a state of near panic.

He was the jingling keys in this distract-the-brat operation, he couldn’t react.  Not if it broke Hanzo’s focus on him.

But the way his jaw clenched did not go unnoticed.  He could see the heir’s head tilt out of the corner of his eye, feel Hanzo’s hands flinch against Cole’s, the digits growing tense for the briefest of moments before he released Cole’s hands.  Not prepared for the sudden loss of touch, Cole’s hands, his chopsticks, and the piece of sushi hit the plates, clattering against the table.

“I-” Hanzo started to speak, but cut himself off.  Cole could see the other man bristle suddenly and without another word, launched himself back around the table and into his seat.  As the heir’s tight ass hit the cushion, Cole could hear the sound that made him jump.  Footsteps.  Ones that grew closer.

By the time a waiter opened the door to their room, the next tiny, mouse-sized course in hand, Hanzo had readied himself for his entrance.  Not a hair out of place of the heir’s head, bored stare on his eyes, and neutral frown on his lips.    He looked aloof, royal, and barely perturbed like his previous serene discussion had been inconvenienced by an untimely entrance.

If Cole hadn’t been sitting here watching, he wouldn’t have guessed that Hanzo had just full-body thrown himself into his chair, nearly going airborne in his undignified hustle.  That had been a reaction borne from fear, like a child leaping off the counter before they were caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

Despite still calming down, Cole couldn’t help but wonder.  What did Hanzo Shimada, of all people, have to fear?  The family was supposed to be untouchable, all-ruling, fear-inspiring.  Watching Hanzo fling himself away like Cole’s magnetic polarity had switched and repulsed him away, when the only people coming to serve them were lowly waiters, was odd.

Hanzo cooly conversed with the waiter, instructing them to leave the plates and give them a few minutes before the next course was brought and let them savor their food, please and thank you.  He was sitting straight in his seat, head tilted back as spoke to the server, the request giving calmly but kingly.

As the server acknowledged the request with a bow and left the room, Hanzo sighed, letting out a long breath Cole hadn’t realized he was holding.  The heir slid in his seat, shoulders sagging, head laying back against the cushioned headrest of the chair.

The glass mask of impartial upperclassdom faded away the minute the door shut, his emotionless face giving way to a tired expression, hesitating and uncertain.  It was human, raw, and honest, the sincerity nearly unbecoming for someone with Hanzo’s pedigree.

“What I was going to say prior to the interruption,” Hanzo began, pausing to clear his throat, gloved hands adjusting and readjusting his shirt collar, “Was that I apologize if I made you uncomfortable.  That was rather forward of me.  I should have inquired further to ensure that the… assistance I offered wasn’t unwelcome.  It wasn’t my intention to steamroll your opinion, I was just...overeager is a word, I suppose.  Forgive me.”

Any words that Cole might have wanted to say were stuck in his throat as he marveled at the sight before him.  He had been briefed on the family, on Hanzo.  They weren’t known for humbling themself.  Genji had warned them that the family was a take-no-prisoners, show-no-mercy kind of clan, his brother included.

Either Genji was lying, which Cole doubted given the validity of everything else he said thus far, or he didn’t know his brother as well as he thought.  Or maybe he had given them a bang-on descriptor of the elder brother, but the heir acted like a Shimada in front of him, not like Hanzo, the heartless yakuza facade staying everpresent even in front of his own sibling.

Both brothers seemed to be hiding parts of them from the family.  Genji hid his desire for freedom, the craving having been what convinced him to talk with Overwatch in the first place, and Hanzo seemed to be hiding his emotions.  What did the Shimada siblings have to hide from exactly?  The world was their oyster, always, their family line made sure of that, so when and why had they developed this allergy to seafood?

Cole’s pondering silence did nothing to alleviate Hanzo’s anxiety.  He was fiddling with a button on his cuff when he spoke.

“I haven’t misread the situation, have I?” he asked, the confidence he tried to exude fading as his last words diminished in volume as a nervous chuckle slipped through his lips.

That question confused Cole.  Had there even really been a situation to misread?  A little handholding didn’t constitute a situation, did it?  What kind of situation was that?  Maybe Cole’s twitch hadn’t gone entirely unnoticed.

“No.” Cole said with a shake of his head, “You haven’t misread anything.”

“Good.” The word was breathy.  It was what wasn’t said that was more potent.  Hanzo’s confidence seemed to return after Cole’s affirmation.  His fidgeting stilled and the uncertainty in his eyes disappeared, replaced by the return of an intense gaze and slight smile.

Hanzo began to eat once more now, picking up a piece of sushi topped by a lotta’ orange orbs, as he spoke.  

“Did I make you uncomfortable then, Joel?  You were tense.  Was it too much?  Not enough?  Did I not meet expectations?” he asked, “In fact, I have to ask, do you have any expectations?”  Then, as if he regretted asking the question, he shoved the sushi into his mouth and silenced himself via chewing the food.

Cole blinked as the cup full of questions was unceremoniously dumped into his lap and did his best to answer them.

“No, you didn’t, it’s just been a while since someone’s touched me so gently, I just didn’t- my brain stopped. You’re fine.” Cole said, slouching down comfortably into his seat, trying to pick up a piece of sushi and look cool, but failing miserably, “An’ I don’t got any expectations, no.  I’m just happy to see where the night leads and, uh, where things end up?”

That wasn’t entirely true.  Cole did have one expectation, or preference really.  He would rather not die tonight.  Other than that, he was fine to just go with the flow and keep Shimada occupied as long as possible.

His answer stilled Hanzo’s nervous jaw, a smile flashing onto his lips as he swallowed the bite.

“That’s what I was hoping for as well.  I prefer letting things develop naturally rather than forcing them.  Steak tastes divine when allowed to marinate, aged beef is some of the most tender, the older the wine the richer the taste.” Hanzo paused to sip at his sake, his adam’s apple bobbing when he swallowed, “I feel that, in a world that forces us to rush about and make decisions every hour of our lives for the rest of our lives, a world that makes decisions for us whether we want it to or not, letting pieces fall where they may is rare delicacy meant to be savored...  Bottoms up, friend, the night is still young and I wish to drink tonight to the realms of possibilities that lay before us.” 

Hanzo raised his half-empty glass up.  “May the roads we walk down tonight have us arrive at the same destination at the same time, Joel,” Hanzo said before he threw his head back and downed the rest of his glass.  Cole, never one to say no to alcohol, joined him and drained his glass dry.

His empty glass didn’t go unnoticed by Hanzo.

“More sake?” the man offered, busy refilling his own glass.  Cole held his cup out and was rewarded with his glass being filled to the brimming.  Hanzo was a generous host if nothing else.

The Shimada’s eyes were focused on the glass as he refilled Cole’s cup, as the liquid reached the brim and his hand began to lower the sake bottle back to the table, his gaze drifted up along Cole’s extended arm.  His stare had been brief as it started at Cole’s hands, but as it skimmed up along Cole’s tanned skin, Cole noticed a curl of a smile on the man’s lips and saw how his tongue skirted along his top row of teeth.

Cole froze when he saw he had Hanzo’s attention.  A smart agent trained for this mission would have done something worthy of looking at, to keep his attention.

But Cole wasn’t prepared to find himself drowning in the deep pools of the heir’s eyes.  His attention was intense, suffocating, a mental punch to the gut that left Cole sucking in a breath as he carefully lowered his drink to the table, chest swelling with air.  

If Hanzo had looked pissed, then Cole would’ve known how to hold his own.  He knew how to not take shit.  If he had looked sad, then Cole knew how to pretend to comfort.  

But that look in his eyes wasn’t anger, wasn’t sadness or fear.  It was hungrier than that.  It was a look that was half-lidded and while ever so present, also distant;  a faraway look that was imagining something else in Cole’s place, a thought motivated by the future rather than the present.

Where had he gone, Cole couldn’t help but wonder.  What journey had he gone on following the trail of Cole’s arm?  And why did a stare like his leave Cole so desperate for air?

Hanzo gave an amused hum, the noise self-directed, as sat up in his seat, the smolder in his eyes slowly giving way to a more present gaze.

“So, Joel, you said you’re traveling?” Hanzo asked, conversing calmly as if he hadn’t just been sliding his eyes up and down Cole’s body.  “Would you tell me about your trips thus far?  

Cole considered the request, trying to gauge if there was an ulterior motive to the request.  Was this a test?  Was he gauging something?  Trying to make Cole slip up somehow?

“I mean, sure, but I don’t even know where to start.” Cole replied with a nervous but fake chuckle, “What’dya wanna know exactly?”

Hanzo leaned forward, fingers lacing as he rested his chin upon them.  “What don’t I want to know about you?” he asked with a playful laugh, “Tell me a favorite moment?  A situation you’ll look back at and laugh about?  Where would you go again?  What anywhere else is like compared to wherever you call home?  Really tell me anything you’d like, Joel.  Just talk to me, please.”

Cole saw nothing wrong with that request.  It would be easy to pull from his mission history, sanitize the Blackwatch details, and create a well-traveled Joel.  He talked all throughout their meal, as plates were brought to the table.  The food they ate was small but bursting with flavor, and every time a waiter entered their room to take or give them a plate, Hanzo straightened up, looking bored as Cole continued to prattle.

But as soon as they left, as soon as the door clicked shut behind them, Hanzo would lean forward to listen, fully enraptured by whatever shit Cole was spewing.  Thankfully, years of BS’ing had taught Cole how to spin a good yarn.  Pulling details from the countries and cities he had visited for missions, he was making up believable travel tales, poking at himself more often than not.

Honestly, it would have been easier if Hanzo continued to look bored.  But having all his attention locked onto Cole?  Looking like he actually cared about what Cole was talking about, what his thoughts and opinions were?

It was weird having a conversation on equal ground.  This wasn’t Cole trying to appeal to Ashe, who had led Deadlock with him until Cole got tossed in the slammer, or speaking to superiors that he had to behave around.  Here, he didn’t have to try to make Reyes look good and watch his mouth around the other team members, and didn’t have to operate as if one mistake would ruin his life.  Even if it might, it didn’t feel like it.  

Maybe that was the most dangerous part.

It wasn’t entirely comfortable at first.  This man was part of Cole’s mission.  He was the enemy.  The biggest threat to their current operation.

So how had he managed in just an hour to feel like the closest friend Cole had ever had?

Despite the status difference between them, with Cole coming from a poor broken home, going from troublemaker to government grunt, and Hanzo living a life of luxury, a prince who had never been for want, Cole was starting to feel a genuine bond forming between them.

All Hanzo was doing was listening, caring, giving a shit about Cassidy.  It shouldn’t have been so easy.  It hurt to think that it was.

Because if it had always been this easy, then why had no one ever done it before?

Cole was telling a tale, one pulled from a mission involving working on a farm that was suspected of smuggling weapons via pack-mules but sanitized of those details, involving a baby goat who had learned how fun headbutting was and how Cole’s crotch had become his favorite target.

As Cole embellished the horror of working alongside a devilish baby goat who was always on the hunt to introduce his baby horns to Cole’s family jewels, Hanzo brought a hand to his mouth, as tears of amusement poured out of his eyes, to try to cover his chuckle that quickly went from muffled laughter to an undignified snorting that left him wheezing for air and pleading Joel for mercy.

It wasn’t a noise anyone should have expected to leave the Shimada scion’s mouth, but it sounded so right, so perfect, coming out of him.

Hanzo gasped as he pleaded for mercy, but Cole showed none continuing with another story of how the baby goat had crawled in through the doggy door and woke Cole up at three in the goddamn morning with a loud BWAAAAAAH right in his ear before bounding on the bed and hoofing him right in privates as they got entangled in the blankets together.

Hanzo, the poor man, had to lay his head in his arms, sobbing at this point, his shoulders shaking with now silent-gasping-sort-of-laughter, short on air, punctuated with an occasional, mirthful snort.

It was only after Cole finished talking that Hanzo had a chance to recover.  His head raised and revealed flowing tear trails running down his red face.  Eyes moist, mouth quirking, and nose wrinkling as he tried to rein himself back in, it was a good look on him.

It had been such an emotionally intimate moment, that Cole was surprised when a look of shame crossed Hanzo’s face as he attempted to put himself back together, tugging sleeves down and pulling his gloves on tighter.  As Cole watched him disappear back inside himself, he heard footsteps nearing the door.

Hanzo’s hands scraped the tears off of his cheeks and wiped his eyes, they smoothed his hair back down and straightened his shirt, moving in a flurry and a panic.  But once the door cracked open, they stilled, having come to rest on the table, absent-mindedly tapping at a phone he had materialized from nowhere.

Along with the server came a delicious smell of a meaty main course.  The empty plates on the table were whisked away and a new, full plate was deposited in front of them.  Hanzo murmured thanks, hand waving in acknowledgment, his focus never wavering from his phone.

It wasn’t until the server left that Hanzo let his phone fall out of his hand and onto the table with a soft clattering.  His hunched shoulders dipped low and for the briefest of moments, he looked at Cole with the saddest eyes.

The confidence and warmth in his eyes that Cole had grown accustomed to had been replaced by a look of pure longing, the sight so intense but so brief that Cole would have missed it if he blinked.

Lonely would have never been a word that Cole would have associated with a Shimada.  The family were the kings of this part of the world, had this city in their grasp, and were rich enough to buy just about anything they could ever want.

Everything except a friend apparently.

Cole had been born into a troubled life, and other people around his personal sphere had done their best to distance themselves from him and his family, citing him as a bad influence.  It wasn’t so hard to think that, on the other end of the spectrum, people avoided Hanzo’s family in fear of ending up on their bad side.  Or those that did broach the line were motivated by personal gain, not a quest to form a personal relationship.

Their lives couldn’t have been more different, but the extreme gap between their worlds had still somehow led to them meeting in the middle. That was something that Cole would have never guessed based on what he had heard and read.

The food before them seemed to bring Hanzo back to the present.  He picked up his phone and tucked it back into his pocket, sitting up in his seat and clearing his throat before he spoke.

“I apologize for the distraction, I was sending a text to my brother, reminding him to head home if he is not there already,” Hanzo explained quietly.

“Right, you were…” Cole paused, correcting himself as he wasn’t supposed to know this info, “Was he the fella you were looking for?  You mentioned something about that, I think?”

“Mmm-hmm, I was.  He’s been… toeing the line lately and, though I’m willing to overlook his usual misbehavior, I’m not the only one who's noticed.” Hanzo told him, “I’ve been told that I am in charge of keeping him in line, and if I’m not capable of that then I have no right being in line for the throne.  All I need is for him to not piss off our father or the elders and make our lives more difficult, especially as I’m standing in for our father as he rests.  Our father’s had a hard enough time dealing with things, and it’s not helpful to stress him further while he’s recovering from an illness.”

Cole didn’t realize that there was a strict family dynamic at play.  He assumed that if a person had the last name Shimada then they could do whatever the hell wanted.  Even the adult sons had leashes?

That explained Genji’s utter paranoia.  If the family had sniffed out a potential troublemaking from the second son, then they were going to keep a closer eye on him.  And they had made the person who would know him the best into their reluctant watchdog by threatening his future.

Hanzo wasn’t the biggest threat to this mission because he wanted to be, but because he had to be.  That was massive news.  Not even Genji knew that his family was starting to sniff out his trail, all he knew was that Hanzo had been keeping a closer eye on him.

What if Hanzo’s absence caught someone’s attention?  Would it compromise the mission?

“Listen, if you need to go find him, I don’t wanna hold you up,” Cole said, certain that with the time that had passed, Genji would have been moved to a safe location, “I don’t wanna get you in trouble.”

“If anyone is getting me in trouble, it’s myself, don’t worry.  Besides, hospitality is important to me and my family.  Entertaining a visitor, especially one in need, to our humble town is never frowned upon and to the prying eyes around us, that’s all that’s happening.” Hanzo assured him, opening up the silverware and picking up his knife and fork, “But I digress, I don’t need to trouble you with personal issues.  In fact, I’d rather ignore them for the night.  Now let us dine, the star of dinner is here.”

Cole coped with this awkward development like he did with every other one, with an attempt at humor.  “Aw, you mean I ain’t the star of dinner?” Cole teased.

“No,” Hanzo said seriously, delicately slicing into the small rare piece of meat on his plate, juice beginning to ooze the moment the metal touched the meat, “I’d rather have you for dessert.”

His deadpan delivery made Cole pause, unsure what he meant. Hadn’t the plan been dinner together?  Wasn’t the melon for dessert?  Had he been ready to kick Cole out when the melon got to the table?  Awww…  Well, at least he was gonna share now.

Before Cole could speak, Hanzo snapped his fingers, remembering something, and set his fork back down on his plate.  

“The wine.” he said, finger raised and asking for a moment as he stood, steak knife in hand, “Can I interest you in any, Joel, or have you drunk enough on this fine night?”

With the offer of more alcohol on the table now, Cole could forgive him for implying he was going to eat all of the melon himself.

“Pleeeeeease?” Cole said, smiling pleadingly, holding his near-empty glass out to Hanzo, who had picked up the wine bottle, “All that talking left me sooo parched.”

Hanzo grinned at Cole’s puppy dog eyes, eyes rolling playfully when Cole’s lower lip stuck out after he loudly slurped the remainder of his glass.

“And what sort of host would I be if I let my guest suffer so?” Hanzo asked, fingers tapping along the steak knife’s handle, “A downright awful one.  So let’s fix that, shall we?”

Knife in hand, Hanzo ran the sharp tip slowly around the edge of the cork, beginning to loosen it.  The movement was slow, purposeful, and combined with the look he sent Cole to ensure that the man’s eyes were on him, far more sensual than it had any right to be.  The slight scrape of the blade caressing the inner rim of the bottle, around the edge of the cork, filled the quiet room, the *tink* of metal on glass quiet but sharp.

Then Hanzo’s fingers clenched around the handle and in one swift movement stabbed the small blade deep into the wine bottle’s cork.  The already-tight sleeves on his shirt strained as his muscles flexed, bottle and knife twisting as he popped the cork out, immediately taking a healthy swig of the drink once it was uncorked.  A drop slipped free of his lips, trailing down his pale flesh and near dripping off his chin before he ceased drinking and wiped it away with his thumb.

It all made for an unnecessary display, over the top, and undeniably one of the hottest things that Cole had ever seen.

As Cole watched the display, his jaw went slack, the remnant of the sake dripping down his own chin, as he was left feeling thirsty in more ways than one.

Hanzo returned to his side now, depositing the knife onto the table and filling their glasses with the crimson liquid, the beginnings of a wicked grin on his lips as he dried Cole’s chin this time.  His fingers rested under Cole’s chin as he roughly wiped away the liquid with the pad of his thumb.

Cole felt lightheaded, and it wasn’t the alcohol’s fault.  Having Hanzo this close let Cole inhale another round of his cologne and realize just how nice Hanzo was to all of his senses so far, though he had no doubt that his sense of taste would be just as satiated if it got the chance.

“Drink up, Joel,” Hanzo crooned, thumb rubbing one last circle against Cole’s skin before he pulled away.  “I think you’ll find the wine will go excellently with the rest of our evening.”

Hanzo hadn’t lied to him yet, so Cole had no doubt that he was right.  He was finding out that Hanzo was a very honest man, never saying anything that he didn’t fully believe in.  He just limited his words, rarely saying more than necessary, content to let others fill the silence.  

He was learning a lot about Hanzo Shimada wasn’t in the file they had been given; he was nothing like the heartless, baby gangster-dictator who cruelly ruled and threw tantrums from his high chair while he waited to sit at the big kid’s throne Cole had been warned about.

He was human.  A kind, polite, generous human.  That made things a lot more complicated.  

This mission was supposed to be straightforward, black and white as could be.  But now it was feeling like a hazy field of grays in the middle of a deep, dark blue sea.

"So what is this exactly?" Cole finally asked, eyeing the small piece of meat on his plate.  It was certainly no bona fide American T-Bone.  It looked smaller, more delicate too.  It was like a baby steak.  Cute, but probably not a meal by itself.  Thankfully, with the few small dishes they had been nibbling all evening, Cole wouldn't be left hungry after this.

"Wagyu," Hanzo said, resituating himself in his chair as he sat back down.

"No, wag you ." Cole joked, laughing, “No seriously, what is it?  Steak?  I love a good steak.”

“Then you’ll utterly adore this part of the meal, which is Wagyu beef.  It’s a cut that comes from the most pampered cow you will never properly meet,” Hanzo said, “And seeing as you don’t seem to know anything about it, I’d rather you experience it for yourself, so I’ll stop talking now and let you.”

Cole raised an eyebrow at him and eyed the meat once more before he picked up his silverware.  It was cooked rare, juicy as hell, and rife with fat marbling.  It was one of the most marbled pieces of meat that Cole had ever seen.  His knife sliced through the meat with almost no effort, the Wagyu beef soft and tender, the sight of the juice pooling on his plate making his mouth water.

Unable to wait any longer, Cole popped a bite into his mouth, his taste buds being sent into immediate bliss.

The meat instantly began to melt on his tongue, the watch of his own mouth liquifying the marbled fat.  It was softer than he could have imagined, chewing basically unnecessary, as the flavor coated his taste buds.

It was gamey, as all meat is, but sweeter than any he had ever tasted. The next bite was just as wonderful, as was the next, somehow both delicate and bursting with flavor.  The near sinful delight of consuming such a luxurious morsel was leaving Cole much more stimulated than it should.

His crotchal region burned and he forcibly parted his thighs from each other as he fought the urge to chase away the beginnings of a hard-on.  Cole had never cum for his dinner before, but this steak on his plate was pushing him a lot farther than he had been ready for.

This wasn't a "Wag You" piece of meat, it was more a "Fuck Me" kind of dinner that left a man hot, bothered, and wanting for more.

The fourth bite left his thighs pressed together tight, a fist pressing against his mouth, a yearning for more, and a wanton moan leaving his lips.

Embarrassed, he glanced across the table, red-faced.  His cheeks burned brighter when he saw Hanzo merely picking at his food, head on his head, entranced as he watched Cole struggle.  His eyes dark, his smile delighted, a clear sign he was enjoying the show.

He noticed Cole looking his way.  "Don't stop on my account." he crooned, picking up his abandoned fork and popping a small bite of steak in his mouth, "Enjoy your dinner, Joel.  As much as you want.  Please.  Continue for me."

Cole took a breath and tried to rein himself back in and eat the most delicious piece of food he had ever tasted like a functioning human being who did NOT have to squirm in their seat because their pants were feeling tight. It was difficult.  Very difficult.  Embarrassingly difficult.

Never had Cole's pauper little mouth eaten anything so amazing.  In all likelihood, he wouldn't eat it again. He tried to enjoy the meal without making too many more sounds, save for happy little hums of bliss as he ate.

Tried, anyway.  He was nearly successful until his second to last bite, an extra fatty and juicy morsel, made him whimper with pleasure.  Hanzo tried to remain reserved, having picked up on Cassidy's embarrassment, but that last sound managed to elicit a pleased, wolfish grin that even he could not contain, eyes politely averted this time.

Cole slowly ate the last bite, savoring it.  It tasted just as good as the first, and it would be a meal he would remember for the rest of his life. In more ways than one.

"I take it you enjoyed the meal?" Hanzo asked calmly as if Cole hadn't been damn near cumming in his pants eating the damn food and barely restraining himself.

"Yeah- it was-" Cole tries to act cool, but soon gave up the act, “That was the most delicious anything I’ve ever tasted before.  Like eating pure bliss in food form.  Nothing else has ever come close and I doubt it ever will, an’ frankly, if you hadn’t been sitting across from me I would probably be licking the plate clean.”

“Oh, please, don’t hold back.  I don’t mind you using your tongue.” Hanzo grinned.

If I forgot my manners now, my momma would tan my hide.” Cole said with a laugh, eyeing the remaining juice on his plate and talking himself out of indulging, “I won’t but… Think you kinda ruined other food for me tonight.  What else is ever gonna match that?  Nothing.”

“Oh dear.  That’s unfortunate.  I suppose I’ll just have to treat you again sometime to make up for it.” Hanzo said, his tone light despite the flicker of sadness that crossed his eyes.  “Though, I hope it’s not the most delicious thing you feast upon tonight.  It certainly won’t be for me.”

That sad look made Cole think that he had crossed a line.  He quickly remembered his manners, ashamed in himself.

“Listen, I- Thank you.  Thank you so much.” he said, “Thank you for the food and all tonight, Hanzo.  It’s been- this has been one of the best nights in my life.”

It was an odd sentiment to consider.  By all means, on paper, Hanzo Shimada was supposed to be the devil’s right-hand man, the enemy, if not the devil himself.  But here he was, offering Cole the warm companionship he hadn’t known he needed, treating him to a meal that a piece of shit like him should have never deserved.  

“Oh, you’re welcome-” Hanzo seemed surprised by the sudden thankful sentiment as if he was more used to people expecting him to treat, “But the night is far from over- I- if that’s what you want.  I don’t mean to imply that you have- that’s not- This night is for both of us to enjoy, but it ends when you-  It’ll last as long as you want it to, Joel, it’s all up to you.”

That… didn’t make much sense.  The night would last as long as it was gonna.  Ain’t nothing Cole could do to change that unless he had secret time-bending, night-controlling superpowers, which he doubted.  But if he somehow did , this was a weird way to find out.

“I- huh.  Okay.  As long as I want.” Cole said slowly, “Well, I ain’t ready for it to end yet, but maybe that’s just me being selfish.  I’m sure you’re a busy-”

“I’m not ready either.” Hanzo proclaimed, his tone getting harsher as he continued, “If that makes me selfish , trying to derive just a bit of happiness for a night and making it last as long as it can, then so be it.  I’m selfish.  That won’t lessen my grip on this night.  No one will take you from me until you decide you’re done, Joel.  That is fact and final .”

The sudden mood shift left them both silent.  Cole was left wide-eyed.  Hanzo’s demeanor change was the reminder he needed to remember that as sweet as Hanzo had been with him so far, the dog had fangs and Hanzo’s words weren’t the only thing with bite.

The man was dangerous, powerful, and evidently not without temper based on that sudden outburst.  Though that anger hadn’t been directed at him, Cole best watch himself.

Hanzo, to his credit, looked mortified and extremely uncomfortable with himself.  His hand flitted about momentarily as the beginnings of words never finished slipped from his lips.  Finally, he composed himself enough to speak.

“Dessert!  We should have that- the dessert we talked about, the melon.  Yes, that melon.  We should have… that.” Hanzo finished weakly, glancing around his side of the table, “There’s a way to call the server’s in here, I think, I can ask them to get that ready for us so we can enjoy that together instead of… we- we can eat it together.”

“D’ya really have to call them?” Cole asked with a tilt of his head, “They’ve been buzzing in and out of here all night like lil’ worker bees looking for honey.”

“True,” Hanzo reluctantly agreed, hands switching from hunting for an invisible button to tugging down his gloves yet again, “I would be surprised if it takes them long to- ah.”

Speak of the devil, there were footsteps growing louder outside the door.  With barely a knock, the door was opened and another finely dressed server stepped in.  Under Hanzo’s order, he cleared the plates from the table and left to go fetch the melon.

The pause and distraction had given Hanzo time to collect himself.  Once more, he sat confidently, returning to form as the gracious host Cole had been dining with all night.

“I think we should get to know each other a little bit better before the night takes us elsewhere.” Hanzo said, swirling the end of his wine in his glass, “Why don’t we ask each other some questions?  Play a little game.”

“Uh, sure, okay.” Cole said, unsure of what he meant or where this was going, “You wanna start?”

“Do you like long walks on beaches or other things with slow build-ups, or do you like diving in head-first to whatever is next on the agenda?” Hanzo asked.

“Uhhh…” Cole had to think about that one.  With his job he was always rushing around, diving in headfirst to wherever he was told, like a bird dog pulling a fresh kill outta a lake after every one of his master’s shots.  But that’s not what he liked.

“Going slow.” Cole said, certain, “Been called a meanderer at times, but I like to stop and smell the roses, enjoy what I got, what I get to have.  Nothing wrong with that, is there?”

“Of course not.  My answer is similar.  I also enjoy taking my time.  It’s about the journey, not the destination, and I like to savor as much as I can.” Hanzo assured him, “Your turn.”

“If…” Cole squinted, trying to come up with a question that didn’t sound dumb.  Figuring it was dumber if he sat here saying nothing, he gave up and instead blurted out the first thing that came to mind, “If you could have any superpower, what would you pick?”

Hanzo didn’t hesitate for a second.  “I would shoot celestial spirit dragons out of my arm,” he said with an unreadable smirk.

His face had an expression of someone amusing themselves with an inside joke, a look Cole took to mean that Hanzo was silently laughing at himself.  A self-directed jab of some kind, but, despite the dumb question, he wasn’t laughing at Cole.  It was clear that he would never laugh at Cole to mock him, to be cruel, that just wasn’t who Hanzo was.

But laughing at himself?  That seemed to be fair game.

The speed and specifics of Hanzo’s answer confounded Cassidy.  “That’s… You sound like you’ve thought about this before.” Cole mused aloud, curious if the inside joke was something from Hanzo’s personal life, “Why dragons out the arm, if I may ask?”

Hanzo shrugged, fighting to pull his grin off his face as he replied. “Because I imagine shooting them out of my penis would rather hurt and be most awkward for all involved.” he said as straightfaced as he could, his delivery counter to the unexpected dirty humor coming out of his mouth.

He changed the subject before Cole could pry further, apparently uninterested in explaining himself proper, “What is your choice?”

“Well, I was gonna say flight but that’s kinda boring compared to you so lemme think a second,” Cole said, humming as he debated what kind of logic-defying ability he would like to possess, “I think- I’d wanna be able to- I’d have a gun that has unlimited bullets, sa- seles- cestial- spirit bullets like your arm dragons, and I’d be able to take a few seconds, lock onto as many targets as I needed, and hit those bullseyes back to back to back.”

Cole finished by picking up his glass and taking a sip of what was left of his wine.

“Do you spawn a tumbleweed into view every time you use this ability?” Hanzo teased.

Cole slammed his glass back down on the table.  “It does now!” he exclaimed, adding, “And an old western showdown whistle’ll play and I’ll say ‘ it’s hiiiiiiiiigh noon ’ like thems cowpokes does in the movies.”

“Oooh, say it like that again soon.  I got chills, and I like those kinds of chills.” Hanzo said with a smile, “Say it again , cowboy Joel.”

“It s h iiiii gh noo n? ” Cole said, his original confidence giving way to the embarrassment of being put on the spot like this all of a sudden.

“And then you pull your pistol, unleash a precise barrage of bullets, and save the day,” Hanzo concluded triumphantly, paying no mind to the weaker delivery. “Then you give me a kiss, perhaps?”

“Oh, so I’m saving you in this movie?” Cole asked with a laugh, catching on to the script Hanzo was putting together, “Ya’ don’t really seem like the kind of man who needs it, to be honest.”

“I don’t mind being the damsel in distress if a deadeye like you is meant to save me.” Hanzo teased, adding coyly, “If only life were like the movies, hm?  I can’t imagine a better ending than riding a handsome man, beautiful sunset sky all around us.”

"Sometimes I do think it would be nice to just ride off into the sunset like they do in the movies, getting a happy ending," Cole admitted.

Hanzo nodded.  "That too, absolutely," he said, briefly confusing Cole but giving no time for questions before he continued, "You would make for an excellent hero, kind as you are, Joel.  You've all the makings of one, inside and out, and I'm glad I have the chance to get to really know someone like you."

The way Hanzo talked to him, it made Cole feel like he could be the hero, that he could save the day, and that he could one day learn to shoot maybe six men in a second flat.  Not more than that, not more bullets than his gun could hold, but definitely six.

Gabe had recruited him because of his shooting skills, citing his stellar aim and quick draw skills as the things that kept him out of prison.  He currently had one of the best records in the shooting gallery at the training range, but it wasn’t the best.  Not yet.

He could be faster, he could be better.  He was already a natural with a gun, many had said so, and was pretty damn good at sensing where enemies were.  If he honed those skills and worked his tail off, then shooting one man in a second would be a breeze.  If he could shoot one, then he could shoot two, then three, four, five, six.  Work his way up and be the best, showing up everyone who had pissed on his parade before.

Maybe not the tumbleweed part, that would be difficult without lugging one around himself, but the rest was doable with practice.

Cole hadn’t ever really thought about being a hero like that before.  He hadn’t ever really been sure he wanted to be one, let alone could.  But someone believed in him, someone who had no money on the horse race he was running for his life in, said he could save the day one day.  Maybe it was because he was a lil’ too drunk, and a lil’ too emotionally involved, but it felt real , it felt doable , it felt like it was what he was meant to do, to save people.

And frankly, if he could pull it off, all that effort would be worth it so that he could someday have his own ride off into the sunset moment with someone who genuinely cared by his side.  He would earn that damn moment, with practice and skill, and finally earn the respect that he hadn’t been sure that he deserved.

He didn’t have long to daydream about his gun skills and wonder how to carry around a theatrical tumbleweed before Hanzo interrupted, realizing that the conversational ball was back on his side of the court.

“I suppose that means it’s my turn again then.” Hanzo mused, fingers tapping idley on his glass as he pondered, “Hmmm.  If- no.  No, I don’t like that one.  A moment.”

And a moment Cole was happy to give.  He was full, tipsy, and in the prettiest and nicest company he had had in a long time.  Hanzo could have politely asked for a couple months to think and Cole would have been happy to oblige, sitting here and soaking up all the company that he could.

But indeed a moment was all that was needed before Hanzo spoke again.  “If you- Which- How do I phrase this?” he paused, “Which of the seven deadly sins do you most identify with?  If one were to appear before you and hand off their mantel, letting you fulfill the most fitting role, which would it be?”

That was a hell of a question.  Left Cole a bit surprised, in fact.  He hadn’t expected it for one, and two it was kinda mind-blowing.

“Whaddya mean there are only seven sins?  Now hold on, that ain’t- that can’t be right.” Cole said, holding up a finger, “I got in trouble waaaay too much for there to be only seven, and I still do even.  How are there only seven ways to fuck up when I spent half my childhood facing the corner, my teenhood fucking up left an’ right, and mosta’ my adulthood trying not to go to jail.”

“Isn’t jail is its own version of a time-out corner?” Hanzo mused with a quiet laugh before hastening to explain, “The seven deadly sins aren’t the only sins, but ones that are a classification of vices based on biblical teachings.  They consist of wrath, pride, envy, sloth, lust, gluttony, and greed. An eighth was taught during medieval times, acedia, apathy, but it was never part of the original set. I don’t consider it a sin as much as I do a casualty of surroundings and its own curse to bear, as what could be worse than losing the will to live life, so it is not to be considered here.  So where in the realm of the seven deadly sins do you fit in, Joel?”

Cole blew out a large breath at the question.  Those were all pretty vague vices.  One wrong step and you’d bumble straight from one to the next.  And what had sloths done to piss off the big guy upstairs?  Figured snakes would be the ones on his shit list considering the stories Cole had been told.

“I don’t- don’t really know the differences, I guess?  Or what exactly they are really, to be able to answer?” Cole admitted, “But I know I ain’t a sloth, never climbed a tree in m’life, so not that one.”

Hanzo smiled wryly at the quip, but then hastened to ask, “Do you always wish for more than what you have?  Is what is in your hands never enough?  Do you covet your neighbor's possessions, his spouse, or his dinner?  Do you gorge until you’re sick or drowning on food or things because you want them and want no one else to partake?” 

Cole considered the question.  “Not really?  I’m happy to have what I do, willing to share what I can, and while some days I long for…” the life he had never gotten to live, but he couldn’t say that, “...other things, it ain’t eating at me none.  Known to overindulge a time or two but that was when food was scarce and I didn’t know if I’d get to eat again; it ain’t a habit, though.  I used to want what other people had but I’ve- where I am now, I ain’t left wanting for that much no more.”

“So not greed, gluttony, or lust then, you’ve left envy behind, and sloth’s been cut from the list by you already, so what's left?...,” Hanzo pondered aloud, “Do you frequently weather the angry storms of wrath and rain that rage down upon all unlucky enough to cross your path?”

“I used to have a temper, but I’ve mellowed out.  Still kinda do, to be honest, but wrath sounds like a cactus going around hugging people just to jab his spines in ‘em rather than a rightful pissin’,” Cole mulled, “I mean, getting angry every now and then ain’t wrong, right?”

“Of course not.  Emotions aren’t sins, much as my family believes, feeling things and expressing them is healthy as long as there are no casualties from it.” Hanzo said jokingly, “I’m not surprised that wrath’s been cut, but I am relieved.  You seem rather relaxed; I’m glad that’s the case.”

“You’re easy to relax around,” Cole admitted, “I feel… safe here, with you.  Like that cozy feeling you get when visiting your grandma at Christmas and dinner’s just about on the table, but they were keeping the food warm and waiting for you to arrive.”

“I’m… grandmotherly?” Hanzo asked with a reluctant smile, “Oh, Genji would get a kick out of this.  He already calls me an old soul, when he’s not calling me old man or Jiichan, all because I like my anachronistic ways.”

Anacawasit?

“Like what?” Cole asked, hoping for yet another explanation without asking.

“Well, I like my old-fashioned weapons, I believe that a man should always dress to make an impression - though what that impression may be is up to him -, I believe elders should be shown respect and listened to,” Hanzo began to list, “I believe that positive attention is earned, not given, that traditions are always to be adhered to, that yukatas and hakama are some of the most comfortable pieces of clothing to wear ever, and that a man should take his partner out for a nice dinner to start an evening.”

So it meant old-fashioned then?  Thinking from another time?  That made sense.  And, hell, Hanzo was right.  Sometimes classic things were the best.  If Cole could run around in his plaid shirt, a poncho, a broken-in pair of boots, and a cowboy hat, instead of the Blackwatch uniform, he’d be happy as a peach.

...Maybe he was a lil’ anachronisty too.

“Ah, I just realized that we cut six of the sins in our discussion.  That leaves pride.” Hanzo said, getting their conversation back on track.  “Does that feel right?”

Cole thought a moment, a grin slowly working its way onto his lips as he thought about it.  How many times had he butt heads with his superiors already?  How often was he convinced that he was right and they had to let him fail to prove he was wrong?  It was a defensive pride, borne from needing to prove himself useful, but it was pride nonetheless.

“Yup,” Cole nodded, “That’s the one.”

“Oh ho, so you’re a prideful one, are you?  How interesting.  I wonder if you would bend or break first?” Hanzo mused aloud, “Now, which of the sins do you think I am?”

Cole’s smile fell after Hanzo spoke.  That sounded like a trick question.  Like when a lady asked you if her pants made her butt look big, and you didn’t know if she wanted a fat-looking ass or not.  Or like when someone said he would get to pick what to eat until they nixed everything he chose, picking what they had really wanted.  Or like when someone asked what you thought you were doing because they rarely actually wanted to know what you were thinking and just wanted to yell at you.  There didn’t seem to be a good answer to this one and that didn’t feel fair.

But Hanzo had been very fair up to now.  If he was asking the question, it was because he wanted to know the answer, right?

“I- maybe you’re-” Cole started to speak, but Hanzo cut him off with a cough.  Footsteps approached their room and a server opened the door.  Without a word, they whisked away the empty plates from the table, depositing their dessert, the fancy melon, in the middle of the table between the two men.

When he placed it upon the table, Hanzo issued one last request: this would be it for the night, their drinks full, their stomachs nearing so, and they wished to enjoy their dessert and discussions in peace.  No other help would be needed tonight, no other orders, put the bill on his tab, the tip would be left on the table, thank you and goodnight.

Now Cole and Hanzo sat across each other at the small table, bare now except for their glasses of water, two nearly empty wine glasses, and a cleanly split melon in two halves on a plate, each side embedded with a small dessert spoon, and the promise of quiet for the rest of the eve.

“Ah, there’s no good way to split that, is there?  They’ve taken the rest of the plates, and I’m not in the mood to stretch like a hungry chimp straining for a banana out of his reach,” Hanzo said, scooting his chair back.  He picked up his chair and easily carried it over to Cole’s end of the table, sliding it into place on Cole’s left.  “This will have to do.  I hope you don’t mind.  Now, please.  Proceed.”

Cole would have loved to just proceed.  But the gap closure between him and Hanzo was a bit more distracting than it should have been.  Hanzo had left his chair facing Cole, letting Cole see all that had been hidden behind the table before.

He sat tall in the chair, his muscular legs crossed, right knee over the left.  It gave Cole a chance to see just how broad his shoulders were, and how snuggly the fabric of his shirt fit over his body.  It let him admire how neatly Hanzo’s beard was trimmed, not a hair out of place, and how much gel had been used to slick back the hair on his head and how, despite that, a bang had slipped free, almost begging Cole to toy with it or smooth it back down.

Not to mention that the scent of Hanzo’s cologne now hung much closer in the air once more.  He sat there, confident but relaxed, fork digging into his half of the melon.  Though his focus was on the dessert as he speared some of the fruit, his gaze drifted north.  Slowly, trailing up Cole’s body, his eyes roamed until their stares met.

Then he smirked, slowly placing the bite into his mouth, stare never wavering as he chewed.  Juice on his lips, his tongue wiped them clean.  And when noticed Cole’s eyes drift down to his lips - his perfectly pretty lips - his teeth tugged at his lower lip, teasing him further.

This was all intentional.  It had to be.  Hanzo didn’t seem like the type to operate on whims.  Him moving the chair over to Cole’s side of the table, there was obviously some kind of motive or he had some kind of goal.  Watching him coolly tease Cassidy, clearly enjoying the bare flush that crept up his skin, Cole felt like he figured it out.

Hanzo knew he was getting him hot and bothered.  Cole couldn't decide if that was better or worse than him not knowing.  Either way, apparently Cole hadn’t been playing it as cool as he hoped.

“Ahem,” Hanzo quietly cleared his throat, getting Cole’s attention back on him.  “I said proceed .  You don’t have to overthink it, Joel, I just want to hear what you think.  Your opinion is important to me.  I’d love to know how you, someone I’ve only just met, view me.”

Goddammit!  Cole had heard of people being homosexual, or heterosexual, but what was it called when he was getting aroused because for the first time in his life someone valued his input, cared about him, and thought he had self-worth?  Needysexual?  Lonelysexual?  Perceivemesexual?  Whatever it was, it was pitiful.

“Um, uh-” Cole had to untie his tongue and try to sync it with his fried brain, “I- Lemme see… Y’aint angry, so not wrath.  You ain’t a sloth.  You’re… not as prideful as someone in your position could be.  So not those.”

Cole paused to think for a long minute before he continued, wanting to get as close to right as he could. 

“Do you- Could it-” Cole took a breath, “Can I ask you questions?”

This seemed to amuse Hanzo, spawning a smile and a coy tongue skimming under his sharp row of teeth, “You may.”

“Is there much you envy?” Cole asked, “Because it seems like you got to- but I don’t see it being that one, but-”

“We all envy.  There are a few things I envy, yes.  And it used to be worse, as was wrath at a time, but I’ve grown and accepted most things for how they are and how they will be,” Hanzo said, “My life’s far from perfect and there are other freedoms I long for but as my predominant sin?  You’re correct, the answer is no.”

“So that leaves three.  Greed, lust, and glut- gluten- gluteny?” Cole asked, forgetting the last word.

“ Glut tony.  Gluten is for bread, and humans are not bread.” Hanzo said patiently, adding, “It’s a good thing we aren’t,  I imagine that cannibalism rates would be much higher if that was the case.”

 Thankfully, despite Hanzo’s dry delivery, Cole knew he was joking.  Pretty sure.  Hopefully, he was.

After a brief chuckle, Cole continued.  “So what’s the difference between those three anyway?  Sounds like they’re cut from the same cloth,”  he asked.

“Hmmm, I see your point.  Well… Greed is wanting things, say your neighbor’s house or your friend's dining set, and wanting aspects from other people’s lives, endlessly seeking them out, and always being dissatisfied.  Think of a dragon on its pile of gold, that despite towering above all on its hoard, eyes the copper pieces he knows still lies in the village below.” Hanzo said, “Gluttony is an endless desire for food and drink, overindulging and never knowing how or when to stop.  It’s a need to fill your plate over and over, to stuff yourself to the brim and continue still, where the food and drink you consume consumes your thoughts.  And lust…”

Hanzo paused to think, and Cole gave him time.  So far, the two explanations he had given helped.  Hanzo certainly wasn’t gluttonous.  He enjoyed good food, and dinner had been delightful, but he had been reserved about eating it.  Unless Hanzo had been using Cole as an excuse to indulge more than he should and worked out like a madman to be in the shape he was in, that one could be struck from the board.  So greed or lust?

“Lust is… Some consider it an unbridled desire for sex, a need to fuck all before you, but that’s an extreme at its very worst.  I see it more as an intense longing for something, typically intimacy, even for that which is discouraged.” Hanzo began, musing, “In fact, it could be considered a hybrid of the two.  Wanting that you can’t have, hungering for that forbidden fruit… it’s not wanting to overindulge in a table full of dishes, but rather occasionally, desperately wanting a piece of the richest dessert there is - in one case, sex - for a brief bliss.”

Hanzo had done his best to deliver a neutral explanation, but Cole had caught the unintentional romanticization of the sin.  Now it was clear which one he identified with.  Greed hadn’t felt right, he had been far too generous so far with Cole, with his personal items, money, and time.

But lust?  It was a desire for the intangible that brought pleasure.  And if there was anything that Cole had learned about the Shimadas in his brief time getting to know them, they weren’t for want of anything physical.  They had all the money in the world, people willing to serve them and fulfill their whims.

But Genji wanted that which money couldn’t buy; freedom.  It wasn’t too much of a stretch to think that Hanzo was in the same boat.  But rather than freedom, he seemed to seek out companionship, an intimacy he wasn’t allowed to normally have.

That explained why Cole was here, and why Hanzo was bothering to entertain him for so long-

Cole, having believed he figured everything out, returned his focus back to Shimada.  Hanzo had been watching him, eyes watching Cole’s face journey as he put the pieces together in his big ol’ brain.

“Lust,” Cole said, keeping him waiting no longer.  “You think you’re lust.”

“I don’t think,” Hanzo countered with a reluctant smile, “I know. ”

“Okay, so you know you’re lust.  Why?” Cole asked, daring to pry.  

If he could gather more intel on Hanzo, even as superfluous as this, maybe he would be excused for going MIA for so long.  Undoubtedly, unless the club floor had turned into quicksand, Genji had been evacuated.  He had no reason to be here any longer, but he was searching for any excuse to stay.  Intel-gathering.  That was his new excuse.

Hanzo seemed hesitant, a first, and eyed the door before speaking. “My tastes are… not the preferred kind.  Though, please don’t take that as a slight against you.  It is not meant to be so.” he said quietly, the close proximity between them allowing his softer tone, “The heart wants what it wants, and mine wants this night to last forever, but it cannot always be so.  I’m attempting to deal with this, uhm, this... in my own way.”

As a slight against him?  Why would Cole take Hanzo’s tastes as a slight against-

“I’d rather have you for dessert.”

Oh.

Oh.

Cole was the rich dessert that Hanzo wanted to indulge in?  That explained… a lot of how he had been acting tonight.  Hanzo wasn’t just treating him to dinner, he was taking him on a date before… before...  Holy shit.

Cole had never been on a proper date before.  Was this what it was like?  Talking and listening, drinking alcohol, and eating the best meal of his life?  Goddamn, Cole needed to go on more dates.

But while Cole had been dealing with the shock of realizing why he was here, Hanzo saw that brief panic that flashed across his face.  By the time Cole had calmed down from that shock and had started to hype himself up - hells yeah he was good-looking and dateable - he looked at Hanzo and saw how tense he had grown.

“Was that- was- Have I been unclear?” Hanzo asked quietly, his confidence clearly shaken, “I never intended to mislead or deceive.  I assumed you- you seemed so receptive, Joel, and I- I’m not trying to coerce you into-”

“Nah, you ain’t coercing or pushing or nothing.  I’m just dumb .” Cole, Mr. Dateable, said with a laugh.  “Dumb, but happy.  And wanting to keep going.  I just never figured anyone would ever want to pay attention to or love me like that really?  S’kinda nice.  You’re gonna keep going, right?”

Cole was the distraction.  That was what he kept telling himself.  He just wasn’t gonna put it in his mission report that the distraction got very distracted by a pretty man who paid him some much-needed attention.

The rambling that fell from Cole’s lips seemed to be the magic words needed to alleviate Hanzo’s concerns.

“I’ll be happy to ravish you as long as you’ll allow me,” Hanzo assured him, his nervousness diminishing the more he talked.  “Give me the chance and I will try to make up for all the time others have wasted not paying your beauty and genuine soul proper tribute.”

Cole wasn’t exactly sure what Hanzo meant by that, but receiving tributes was never a bad thing and he had just been called beautiful.  So whatever meaning was hidden behind Hanzo’s overly eloquent way of speaking was not a concern.

“Let’s finish up with dessert and I’ll walk you to your hotel.” Hanzo said, “I worry that a tourist such as yourself would get lost on our roads and though criminality is at an all-time low thanks to my family’s efforts, I’d rather escort you if you don’t mind.”

The sudden formality threw Cole for a loop, but then he heard the footsteps passing by outside the door.  Clearly, Hanzo didn’t feel entirely comfortable and had been spitballing in case someone opened the door.

It didn’t make sense.  Why would he come here if he didn’t feel entirely safe?  Was he just anxious when he was outside the family grounds?

Regardless, Cole wasn’t going to make him stick around longer than necessary.  The melon was the juiciest and sweetest he had ever tasted and went down nicely with some idle chitchat as they finished up.

Hanzo left a generous tip on the table and escorted Cole out of the room, leading him out the back door they had entered and guiding him down the streets.  Thankfully, the dark roads were mostly empty and they reached the hotel unhindered.

It was when Hanzo was checking him in that it dawned on Cole how real this all so suddenly felt.  Here he was standing in a brightly lit lobby of a nice hotel as Hanzo Shimada was picking up his room key, intent on taking him up to the room and… paying tribute.  Whatever the hell that meant anyway.

As they rode the elevator to the fourth floor, Cole found himself feeling lightheaded.  He blindly followed Hanzo to the room, stepping inside as the door was opened.  He looked around the comfortable room wordlessly, inadvertently gulping.

He stood right inside the doorway, silently looking around.  The bathroom was to his left, the bed in front of him.  A small table and two chairs sat near the right wall, with a mini-fridge humming away beside them.

It was a nice room.  Certainly no luxury resort, but much nicer than it should have been for a stranger renting him a place.

Hanzo shut the door behind him as he entered the room, silently watching Cole.  He waited a minute, giving the other man time to look around, before breaking the silence.

“There is a bathroom right here.” he said, quietly, “Why not take a minute and go wash up?”

Cole didn’t know if that was a subtle hint or what but he wasn’t gonna risk it.  He nodded, said okay with such a waver in his voice he scared himself, and then shut himself inside the bathroom.

By the time he had pissed, washed his hands, splashed water on his face, slapped his wet face with cold, damp hands, and dried his face with his shirt, he had regained control of himself.  It was the mission to keep Hanzo distracted and occupied and busy and stuff.  Never really been spelled out how, this should be as good as anything else they could come up with.

Plus of all the intel he could gather when Hanzo Shimada was...butt naked, yeah.  Bet they didn’t have that info on file!

Hair dripping, he opened the door to find Hanzo standing against the wall by the hallway door, arms crossed, eyes locked to the ground.

“What happens now?” Cole asked, causing Hanzo’s gaze to slowly raise.

“Whatever you want to happen.” Hanzo said with a shrug, “I’ve left you some money on the bedside table to help you on your travels, and you have the room for two days, checkout time will be at 8 in the morning, but I didn’t want you to feel rushed so feel free to leave before then if you wish,” he said quickly, hands tugging his gloves on tighter, “I believe that covers everything, so now if you wish for me to take my leave I will-”

“Wait, wait, where you going?” Cole had to ask, now confused, “I thought we was, you know, gonna get tangled up together.”

“I don’t wish for you to feel pressured into doing anything you might regret.  That’s why the money is on the table as is the room key.  They’re already yours.” Hanzo said, “Anything further that happens is your choice.  I have nothing more to offer you-”

“Except yourself?” Cole said with a smirk, watching Hanzo stiffen.  “Why would I say no to that?”

“Because there are rules, and if you don’t feel comfortable with them, it ends here.” Hanzo said, “You’ve nothing to lose by backing out if you feel uncertain, Joel.”

Now Hanzo had his attention.  “What kind of rules?” he asked.

Hanzo was ready for the question and answered with such confidence it was clear he had had this discussion with others before.

“You’ll be restrained.  I’ll have you sit in a chair and tie your hands behind you.  Toy with you until I’ve had my fun and you’ve had your fill.  Then we consider the bed, where I’ll tie your hands to bars at the head of the bed.  I stay in control, you get all the bliss,” Hanzo said, “The restraints are non-negotiable.  If it’s a deal-breaker, I understand, you wouldn't be the first to walk, but know that if you attempt to spread lies about me to my family, and think they’ll buy information off you, know they’d never take your word for it.”

Cole was fine with all that, sounded like a hoot and a half, but that warning at the end was the main thing that caught his attention.  Someone tried to sell Hanzo out before?  Someone had said no to his offer and went to his family to get him in trouble.

Or maybe a Hanamura citizen had.  As cautious as Hanzo was being, his family obviously didn’t approve of something here.  It explained why he was always shutting down when the waiters came by.  They wanted Shimada money and were happy to sell the sons out to get it.  No wonder both men could be so nervous.  The world has its eyes upon them, waiting for a mistake to profit from.

Hanzo took Cole’s long silence as reluctance. “I’m happy to work with whatever other preference you have, as much as I can.  Whatever you like, tell me what you like.” Hanzo said, too proud to sound as desperate as he felt,  “Utter the words and I’ll give you what your heart desires.”

“I dunno what I like.” Cole said with a shrug, “Tonight’s a good night to find out, though, right?” he finished with a laugh.

Hanzo relaxed as Cole’s warm laugh filled the room.  “Do you wish to start now, then?” he asked, hand resting on the top of one of the chairs.  It was padded and covered in dark gray fake leather.  Armless, but resting atop four metal legs.  Small but sturdy.

If not now, then when?

“Sure, how do we start?” Cole asked, eyes roaming up and down Hanzo, pausing on where his shirt pulled tight across his chest.  This was now out of his wheelhouse.  If Reyes was here, he’d probably be throwing a fit about Cole willingly restraining himself in front of and by the biggest threat they knew.  But then again, if Reyes was here, this would be way more awkward, and he wasn’t, so he could suck on that.

Cole was here getting intel , the deets , the nitty gritty itty bitty info tiddy bittys - uh, wait, he blinked, tearing his eyes off Hanzo’s chest and continued thinking.  He was doing good.  Learning more than anything Genji had revealed so far.  Things like this were important.

Though they were getting hard to pay attention to as he watched Hanzo easily carry the chair to the middle of the room, set it down, and start undoing his belt.  The sound of the leather sliding through the fabric as Hanzo pulled it off made his cock twitch.

“Sit.” Hanzo said, quickly adding, “If you’re ready.”

Boy, was Cole ready.  The sight of Hanzo standing there, belt looped in his hand, patiently waiting for Cole to sit down had him plopping down into the seat before his brain could catch up with his body.

With Hanzo’s gentle guidance, his arms were directed back, wrists meeting behind the chair.  Hanzo used his belt and tied them together tightly, asking multiple times if Cole was comfortable, did he need a pillow, how did his arms feel, was this too tight, did he need a drink, and was he sure he was comfortable?

But Cole was comfortable, no pillow needed, his arms felt fine just tied up, it weren’t too tight, he wasn’t thirsty, and yes he really was comfortable, he swore up and down until Hanzo finally believed him.

So now he sat on the chair, arms tied behind him making him sit up straight as a ruler, unsure what happened now.

He was tied up.  Whoopie.  How was they gonna fuck with a chair on his back?  He was no turtle.

He got distracted from asking what step two was when he saw how Hanzo was admiring his handiwork.  His eyes roamed over Cole tied up in the chair, teeth tugging at his lower lip as he tried to smother a growing grin.  That distracted look in his eyes told Cole that he didn’t just like what he saw, he loved it, and he wanted it for himself.

It was a hungry look that stole Cole’s breath away.  They hadn't even started yet and here he was gasping for air like a goldfish who’d lept out of the bowl.  Didn’t help none when Hanzo decided that Cole made for a great place to sit.

The man easily slid a leg past Cole’s hips, leaning forward to press his forehead against Cole’s before he swung his other leg into place, leaving him sitting solidly on Cole’s lap.

Crotches pressed against each other, Hanzo leaned back and brought his hand to his mouth.  Teeth clamped down on the glove and he began to slowly tug it off in one of the sexiest moves Cole had ever seen outside of porn. Probably even inside porn too.  Like the wrestling porn, that stuff was kinda hotter than expected.

But before Cole could stop himself, he spoke, “Wait.” Hanzo froze instantly, unsure of what was wrong until Cole continued, “ Leave it on.  The glove.  For now.  Please.” 

He begged without meaning to, remembering how the soft leather had felt on his hands back at the restaurant.  Besides that, the gloves were kinda sexy on Hanzo.  He wasn’t ready for them to be cast away.

The plea left a smirk on Hanzo’s lips and he slowly removed the glove from his mouth, tugging it back on tightly.

“I can hardly refuse a request so earnest,” he teased, hooking a gloved thumb into Cole’s mouth and tugging roughly, pulling the left side of his lips over tightly and making his cheek start to ache.  “They’ll stay.  For now.  But they will come off and I will get my hands on you.  In you.  Whenever and wherever I please.”

Cole’s tongue skimmed against the smooth leather and he whimpered excitedly, hips pushing up against Hanzo’s, mouth pulled too tight to speak properly.  Hanzo admired the position he had Cole in for a moment longer before he removed his hand and took pity on him.

Hanzo pulled himself forward, grinding against Cole teasingly before he spoke, “What are your preferences, Joel?  What do you like?” he asked, “What’s something you want to happen tonight?”

Cole considered the question as carefully as he could while a pretty man was sitting in his lap and making his blood flow southernly.

“I don’t-” Cole was fumbling for words, “I don’t rightly know.  My experiences with sex are getting fucked real quick in a bathroom or closet, and slipping away, and acting like it never happened until ya’ meet up again.  Was like five minutes of a dick up my ass.  All this is… it’s all new.”

Hanzo’s expression softened, his smug expression giving way to a look of pity.  Cole didn’t like that much.  Made him worried that Hanzo was suddenly thinking that Cole wasn’t good enough for him, or that he hadn’t been expecting damaged goods.  He opened his mouth to plead his case, but Hanzo cut him off.

“Have you never been treasured before?  Ravished and worshiped like the Adonis that you are?  Then they were never worthy to touch you,” Hanzo said, leaning forward and rubbing his cheek against Cole’s, his words but a soft whisper, “I will give you all the love and attention you deserve, more than.  I’ll overflow your cup and have you spilling over, and then lap the remains from the floor so not a bit goes to waste.”

Hanzo then leaned back and gently slid his gloved hands onto Cole’s cheeks, tilting his head upward.  Slowly, he went in for a kiss, his lips pressing gently against Cole’s, whose lips didn't move or reciprocate.

Confused, Hanzo leaned back and looked at him.  “Do you not enjoy kissing?” he asked carefully.

Cole’s brow knitted in embarrassment, “Ain’t ever really done much of it before. Usually facing the other way, or I dun’ know,” he confessed, “Not too practiced at the smoochy stuff, but I don’t mind it, I jus’ ain’t… the best.”

His answer seemed to quell Hanzo’s worries. “And how could you be when you never get the chance to learn?” Hanzo crooned, “Personally, it’s one of my favorite parts, the intimacy is so… Just let me lead and if you still don’t like it, we won’t do it again.”

Hanzo’s hands returned to Cole’s head, but this time one trailed its fingers down his cheek before sliding under his chin, and the other wrapped around the back of his head, grabbed a fistful of hair and holding him in place.

The kiss resumed, with Hanzo taking a slow, gentle lead, planting multiple soft kisses upon his lips.  Then, on the seventh peck, he didn’t pull back.  He pressed harder, and Cole could feel a tongue slide between his lips and part them.

The hand on the back of his head pushed him forward and held him in place.  Hanzo’s tongue immediately claimed his mouth.  Cole’s hands clenched and his eyes shut tight as he moaned, unable to hold a sound back as his mouth was dominated.

He could feel when Hanzo’s hand left his chin and didn’t really give a damn of where it was or what it was doing until he could feel cold air running down his chest, a sign that his shirt had been unbuttoned.  Then he could feel his pants being tugged at and moaned again, this time with a whimper as he began to run low on air.

Hanzo pulled back the moment that he freed Cole’s cock from his ever-tightening pants, but Cole leaned forward, desperate to close the gap between them once more, utterly addicted to this new kissing thing.

“Please-” Cole whispered roughly, head tilted back and lips freely offered to Hanzo.  He wanted more.  He needed more, whatever he was allowed to have.  He wasn’t used to his sex taking longer than five minutes.  Feeling his cock harden and his balls start to ache set off a need for the quick, messy release he had come to know.

“In time,” Hanzo promised him, giving him another quick kiss.  Despite how Cole opened his mouth, offering anything he could to convince Hanzo to hurry things up, the man didn’t take the bait.  “I don’t rush things, Joel, I like to make them last.  As much as I want to bend you over and fuck your adorable self into the mattress behind us… not yet.  I’m savoring this.  It would serve you well to learn to do the same.”

Cole tugged at the binding around his hands, desperate to satisfy himself somehow, whether that be ripping Hanzo’s shirt off or pulling him back down into a kiss, but wasn’t able to break free.  This was certainly not Hanzo’s first time when it came to tying men up.

“I want- I need-” Cole began to stutter, tugging at the restraints again, “Let me-”

“That I cannot do, but you know that,” Hanzo said, catching on to what Cole was asking for, “I can’t risk having any marks on me.  If they see that and start to ask questions… I don’t even want to think about what they would do.  But…”

Hanzo carefully maneuvered himself off of Cole’s lap, and lowered himself down to his knees, grinning cheekily up at Cole.

“I won’t leave you wanting for everything, that’s being too much of a tease.” Hanzo said, tongue licking at his lips, “You’ve given me so much, Joel, I can offer you some mercy before I go back to having my fun.”

All Hanzo had to do was poke at the inside of Cole’s knee with his finger, giving him the gentlest of nudges, and Cole’s knees swung apart like he was the Red Sea before Moses.  Then Hanzo, humming a nonsensical tune, busied himself by fishing Cole’s cock and balls free from his boxers, with Cole lifting his hips to assist without even thinking.

Cole barely had a second to breathe before Hanzo was already mouthing at his cock.  Lips gently wrapped around the tip, his large hand rubbing further down the shaft as his other kept a hold on Cole’s hips.  His tongue circled the tip of Cole’s cock, dark eyes mischievous every time they glanced Cole’s way.

Hanzo may have been in the submissive position, but he was in complete and utter control of the situation.  Cole could feel sweat running down his face as he attempted to buck his hips, craving just a bit more of Hanzo’s warm mouth, but Hanzo’s hands kept him firmly in place.

Cole would be given exactly what Hanzo wanted him to have, nothing more, nothing less.

But if there was any relief to be found for Cole, it was that Hanzo seemed intent on fulfilling his earlier promise of ensuring Cole’s satisfaction.  All Cole had to do was suck in a needy breath before Hanzo pulled off his cock and asked…

“More?” His voice low and teasing.

“Please.” Cole rasped.  It had been so long and, fuck, Hanzo’s mouth was warm and nice.

With a hum of acknowledgment, Hanzo easily slid his mouth halfway down Cole’s cock, and the fact that he hadn’t struggled like others before meant that he was pretty damn practiced at getting down on his knees and deepthroating.

The thought made Cole’s already hard cock twitch as he watched Hanzo’s head bob, tongue trailing up and down his shaft as his hand moved from his penis down to fondle his balls.  The man wasn’t silent, humming and moaning himself as he gave the blowjob, though Cole got the feeling it was more to elicit a reaction out of him than it was out of Hanzo purely enjoying himself.

Cole’s eyes were locked onto Hanzo’s head, a moan crawling free from his clenched mouth as he watched his head bob.  He could feel the grin that worked onto Hanzo’s mouth before he pulled himself off Cole’s penis.

“More?” he asked, feigning surprise.  Or at least Cole thought that he was.  He wasn’t sure of much right now.

“Not if ya’ don’t wanna.” Cole said hoarsely, “Don’t do-”

“That was never the question.  I want to.” Hanzo assured him, toothy smile on his face, “You’re my religion for the rest of the night, Joel, and I am more than happy to be a good disciple and get down on my knees to worship you for as long as I get to be a believer.”

Before Cole could even come up with a thought, a word, to respond, Hanzo leaned forward and easily engulfed his whole cock with his mouth, giving Cole the deepest, most mindblowing blowjob he had ever gotten in his life.  His mind was nothing but white and static as all he could feel were his cock and balls mouthed, sucked, and toyed with until he could feel the building pressure begin to culminate in a coming climax.

All he could give were nondescript sounds of pleasure as a warning before he could feel himself coming into Hanzo’s mouth.  It took him a minute to return to earth, and by the time he did, he found himself cleaned up, tucked back into his boxers, and in the middle of making out with Hanzo once more.

The man leaned over him, lips thoroughly occupied with Cole’s, not pulling away until he needed air.

Cole sucked in a deep breath, left winded from the long kiss and the look of affection and adoration that Hanzo had on his face.

“You’re beautiful when you’re sated,” Hanzo murmured, carefully climbing back onto Cole’s lap, eyes never leaving his red face.  “I want to wind you up all night, bring you satisfaction again and again, I want this expression to be the last thing I see.  If only I could take a picture of it, keep it on me forever, as a memento to this night.”

There were a handful of odd things that Hanzo had been saying throughout their time together in this room, Cole began to realize in his post-nut clarity, especially how Cole was his religion as long as he got to be a believer and wanting to keep something to remember this night by.

Wasn’t this only a one-night stand?  Two fellas having a fun romp in the haystacks before the cows came home?  Hanzo’s words all had an air of finality to them, of longing that would never be fulfilled again, a desire to hold on tight to the time that would always slip through his fingers in the end.  

Something felt off about this.  Cole had miscalculated something somewhere, he just wasn’t sure what.  All he could hope was that it didn’t end up biting him in the ass in the end.

Hanzo, now situated in his lap once more, ran a hand through Cole's hair.  The normally soft strands were closer to straw thanks to a poor bleach job.  As the stringy locks slid through Hanzo's fingers, he chuckled.

It wasn't a cruel laugh, though.  Not a sound that was mocking Cole's dye job gone bad.  It was warm, soft, delightful in such a way that it left a pain in Cole's stomach.  Why did that laugh have to come from Hanzo?  From someone he would probably never be able to meet like this again?

"Have you bleached your hair before?" Hanzo asked, leaving a soft row of kisses down Cole's jawline.  His words were accompanied by hot breath that left a steamy trail on Cole's skin.

"Nope-" Cole paused to tilt his head to the side, giving him better access, "First time."

"Mmm, I wondered.  Genji's looked like that the first time too," Hanzo said, chuckling under his breath at the memory before he began to rub his cheek against Cole's.  "He's had more practice since, he does a good job of it now.  Our family doesn't approve, it’s why he has to do it himself instead of by professionals, they’re scared to service him, but I don't care.  I could ask him for tips for you, for next time.  I imagine your hair's normally quite soft."

Hanzo's murmur was soft in volume as much as it was in tone.  He leaned back now, looking Cole over with such an adoring, doopy romance-cinema expression, that it left Cassidy in pain.  

No one had ever looked at him like that before.  No one had ever given Cole the time of day, let alone consider him the light of their life.

Why, of all people, did it have to be Hanzo Shimada?  Why him?

"Don't look at me like that," Cole pleaded, the whisper hoarse.

The lovelorn expression on Hanzo's face didn't waver.  "Like what?" he asked, his voice unfairly soft and warm.

Cole's teeth grit together as he tried to find the words to say, and then find the courage to say them.  

"Like..." Cole's upper lip curled uncomfortably, "Like you're falling in love with me."

The statement made Hanzo lean back.  His hands stilled, returning to him, and he sent Cole an apologetic look.  No words, no arguments, left his lips, and that made Cole grow tense.

"You aren't, are you?" Cole asked, trying to keep the fear out of his voice as he realized what was happening, that this had somehow become more than a one-night stand for Hanzo.  Had it ever been? "How could you?"

That seemed to annoy Hanzo.  "Haven't you seen yourself?" he asked, hand coming to rest on Cole's bare, broad shoulder, "How could I not ?"

Cole's lips pressed together uncomfortably as he shook his head, feeling guilty that he had managed to trick someone like Hanzo into thinking he was worth anything, let alone love. 

"I'll break your heart," he said.  It was the truth.  A warning given too late.

Cole disappointed everyone in the end.  Hell, he was already waiting to get the boot out of Blackwatch, assuming any day now that his mistakes had culminated into the scissors that would cut his last lifeline and send him plummeting into the abyss of no return.

Hanzo's concern seemed to melt away as Cole spoke.

"I don’t mind," he admitted as he leaned forward and began pressing soft kisses against Cole's throat, leaving Cole's thoughts reeling.  “Some hearts were made to be broken.”

“Not yours-” Cole began, tilting his head to try to steal some kisses.

Hanzo’s hands tilted Cole’s head further his way, lips coming to meet his.  “Especially mine,” Hanzo teased, words spoken between several small pecks, “We can’t fight our destinies, Joel, so enjoy what we’re allowed to indulge in while we can.”

As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Hanzo was right.  Their time together would be brief.  Once this night ended, what was left for them?  The paths they walked were usually so far removed that an opportunity like this would never have happened.  The chance that they had even gotten to meet, to talk, to get to know each other like this?  It was something to celebrate with the one feasible chance at intimacy that they would ever have.

Hanzo saw the look in Cole’s eyes that signaled he was in agreement, that there was no point in wasting their time here mourning when they could spend it with each other.  He took it as a silent cue to continue.

His hips slowly began rocking against Cole’s as his hands came to his shirt and unbuttoned it, disrobing himself at the most tempting speed possible.  Cole watched his broad shoulders bob as he shrugged the shirt off, carelessly letting it fall behind him on the floor.

The man was solid muscle.  His body was trained, a strong sign of discipline, and toned.  His abdomen was a six-pack, his waist unfairly narrow in comparison to his broad tattooed shoulders - one large and dark, the other light and small, the Shimada clan's emblem - with his pecs stacked and unfairly tempting with his ruby nipples hard.

It was difficult to know where to look, not when his eyes wished to linger everywhere all at once, wanting to memorize every curve, dip, and ripple on the body before him.  This?  This wasn’t the sort of intel he would share.  Not with Blackwatch, not with Gabe, no one.  

The sight before him was going to be put in his own personal mental file, safe to rattle around his noggin for the rest of his life, given a starring role on the stage of Cole’s brain whenever his own nightly performances needed a hand or inspiration for an encore.  

Hungry, mouth watering like a starving man’s before a banquet full of delicious dreams, Cole swallowed thickly.   He couldn’t stop his gaze from trailing along the intricate blue tattoo that sat proudly atop Hanzo’s left pectoral, filling out nicely atop the plump and shapely muscle, following the sturdy curve of Hanzo’s well-toned arms.

Cole had to study the tattoo for a good long moment before his fried brain understood that there was a design - more than a proud, swirly checkmark of authenticity on his tiddy to verify that Hanzo was 100% natural beef - and it was then that he noticed the dark storm clouds and the jagged lightning of the tattoo.  The dark, swirling shapes contained a different pattern, lighter shading allowing Hanzo’s own flesh to decorate the piece.  They were scales as Cole soon understood.  

His eyes followed the scales, piecing together the image as a long dragon.  The dragon coiled around Hanzo’s arm, looping over large muscles and dipping into the crook of his elbow, the head partially covered by his still present gloves.

It was damn pretty, way more detailed than any of the hackjob tattoos Cole had seen done by drunk Deadlock members with old needles and ink made of God knows what.  It was an honest to goodness piece of art that belonged in a museum, too beautiful to keep it as hidden as Hanzo did, though Cole did get a flare of jealousy at the thought of anyone other than him getting to see Hanzo like this.

And, though Cole was no art critic - he sure didn’t have the eye for it - his only complaint about the actual work of art before him was that he wasn’t allowed to touch it properly.  Hands tied behind him, he realized that Hanzo must know how priceless he was.  A proper work of art on a gallery wall, red ropes tied in place keeping the piece pristine, the message was clear; look, see, and experience the masterpiece, but don’t touch.

Cole leaned forward, aware that his hands were restrained but desperate to bridge the gap between him and Hanzo.  Lips parting, he offered himself freely to Hanzo.

Because Hanzo was right.  If this night together was going to be their only one, they might as well make the most out of it.  Though it may be his sin, Cole didn’t have too much pride to understand or to be willing to submit, all in the name of Hanzo just giving him more.

Thankfully, the heir understood Cole’s silent plea.  Hanzo’s lips returned to his and he pressed their chests together.  His hips resumed rocking in Cole’s lap, hands blindly exploring as they made out.  Fingers slid their way up to Cassidy’s chest, grasping at his pecs and flicking his pebbled nipples, making him gasp in shock and pleasure at the feeling.

As soon as Cole’s mouth opened, Hanzo slid his tongue back into his mouth, moaning loudly, hands squeezing and lightly scratching at Cole’s side as his fingers skirted around on his flesh.

Breaking the kiss, Hanzo then nuzzled his cheek into the crook of Cole’s neck, speaking, his words quick, breathy, and desperate, “Can I kiss you?  Mark you?  Bite you? Would that be alright? Do you mind?” his words were a rambling murmur, “Can I?  May I may I may I?  Please, please, please. ”

If Cole had blood to spare for his brain, he would be tickled pink that a man like Hanzo was sitting on his lap, pleading to kiss him on the neck, despite having already emptied his balls, asking permission like Cole was a southern belle to a dance at the county ball.

But he had no blood to spare, so instead all he could do was tilt his neck to the side and moan a please as the permission that Hanzo so craved.

The word had barely left his lips before Hanzo bit down on his flesh, tongue dragging across the stinging marks, sucking in deep kisses that would leave imprints for the morning sun to see.  It was wet, messy, and a massive turn-on for the man, judging by how his speech all but devolved into moans, and his hips excitedly twitched and rocked on Cole’s lap.

Cole’s throat was wet, soaked with Hanzo’s saliva.  The chilly air on the dampness counteracted the stings from Hanzo’s numerous bites and nips into his skin.  Cole could already feel how bruised he was going to be in the morning, the right side of his throat was gonna be looking like a purple and brown patchwork quilt, but he didn’t give a damn.

Hanzo finally pulled back, his normally neat hair falling out of its tie, his pretty lips soaked and swollen red, his confident and cocky stare replaced by a bloomed out pupil look of absolute lovedrunk adoration.  His chest rose and fell as he tried to catch his breath, and it was a damn good thing that he had tied Cole up, because Hanzo was looking really damn fuckable right now and if it weren’t for this damn belt around his wrists he would be dragging both of them over to the bed, or at the very least wrapping his hand around that stiff cock he could see in Hanzo’s pants.

Hanzo leaned in, lips capturing his once again, arms lazily drooped over Cole’s shoulders as he contented himself, doing whatever he pleased.  Cole felt like, if Hanzo kept coming back to kiss him this many times, he musta’ done a pretty good job on picking up on how to do the smoochy stuff.

Breaking the kiss, Hanzo’s hands roamed around Cole’s chest, eyes locked downward as he asked, “Bed?”  He was starting to feel impatient too it seemed.

“Sure?” Cole asked, unsure if Hanzo was asking a question or making a statement.

“I could keep you in this chair all night, to be honest. Alternate between blowjobs and making out.  That’s divine enough, but not enough,” Hanzo confessed, unsteadily pulling himself off of Cole’s lap and rounding to the back of the chair to untie him, “Not enough for me.  I want more.  Every bit of you.  Everything you’ll let me have.”

As soon as Cole felt the straps loosen, he brought his wrist in front of him and rubbed them, occupying himself to distract from the urge to pick Hanzo up and just throw him into the bed and hurry things up.

The motion didn’t go unnoticed.  “Are you hurt, Joel?” Hanzo asked quietly, concerned, “Was it too tight?  You have to tell me-”

“No, sir, it was fine,” Cole replied, carefully standing up on his unsteady feet.  He looked over at Hanzo and realized that the break in the action wasn’t serving Hanzo well.  His eyes were wide, clearly second-guessing himself, standing there with a solid erection and feeling awkward.

“You, uh, missed half, though.” Cole began, grabbing Hanzo’s attention.  He tilted his head to the right, exposing the tanned, unmarked side of his throat.  “You’re gonna love on this side too, right?”

Hanzo’s eyes locked onto Cole’s throat, darkening, tongue sliding on his lips before his teeth tugged at the lower one.  He stepped towards Cole, head tilting as he readied himself.  One hand came to rest on Cole’s broad chest, bracing him as he leaned in close and inhaled, the other wrapping over his shoulder as he leaned in and soaked up Cole's scent.

He had said that kissing was his favorite thing, but Cole started to think it was the act of claiming something as his own, be it lips, throats, or cocks, and leaving marks, proof that something or someone belonged to him.  Turned him right the fuck back on, like flipping a switch.

Cole, much as it pained him, interrupted after Hanzo had busied himself with his neck, “Hey, handsome, Hanzo. You’re adorable, but if you don’t tie me back up, I can’t promise I can keep m’hands off ya’ iffin’ you’re not wanting that.” he reminded him, “Wanna hop in bed, get me ready, then continue?”

Hanzo pulled back, blinking three times as he pulled himself back to the present, pupils blown wide.

“Bed.” he agreed, short sentences all his brain could muster at the moment, “Yes.”

He turned, walking around the mattress and pulling two pillow cases off the pillows, twisting each into a quick rope.  Cole, taking the hint, climbed into the bed and let Hanzo position him how he pleased.  How he pleased, apparently, was Cole on his back, hands tied apart, each bound with a pillow case, belt placed on the bedside table ready for later use.

As soon as he was secured, Hanzo wasted no time crawling on top of him, head burying against the unmarred half of his throat.  His arms looped under Cole’s bound ones, letting him pull himself as tight as possible against Cole.  His knee was planted in front of Cole's crotch, his thigh pressing against it, while his own still-clothed cock was pressed against Cole’s thigh.

As his mouth busied itself marking Cole’s throat, nipping at his shoulder when he was feeling spicy, Hanzo began to grind himself against him.  He groaned with utter contentment as he fucked Cole’s thick thigh, the motion simultaneously stimulating Cole’s cock.

After a few minutes of the best kind of torture, Cole could feel his own cock stiffening quickly and panicked, “Hanzo, gorgeous, you’re gonna make me cum again real soon if you keep this up, and I don’t know how many times I can go in a night, baby, please have mercy.”

While Hanzo’s head was still buried against his neck, making it impossible to see his face, he replied, “You come as many times as I want you to tonight.” 

The words were spoken with a low, possessive tone that made Cole’s cock harden even faster.  And, as if to prove himself in charge, Hanzo pulled an arm out from under Cole’s and moved his legs to the side, no longer straddling Cole.  Then his free hand yanked Cole’s boxers off and proceeded to wrap around his cock, giving a light squeeze to elicit a yelp out of Cole.

Not even bothering to raise his head or tear himself away from Cole’s throat, he gave him a slow, sensual handjob, making it clear that Cole, as long as he was willing, was at his mercy tonight.  Anytime Cole moaned in pleasure he was rewarded with two quick pumps up and down his shaft, something he caught onto quickly.

The primal urge to reach his peak as fast as possible had him bending to Hanzo’s will, folding as easily as paper, and he didn’t try to restrict a single sound coming out of his mouth.  He could hear himself sweet-talking, moaning, babbling away like a fool, desperate for release.

Hanzo pulled off his throat and whispered into his ear, quiet and low.  “I need you,” he said to Cole.

Cole, heard the words and didn’t all at the same time, repeating exactly what Hanzo had said, “I need you, Hanzo, please, I need you so bad.  I need you like I need air to breathe, I need you like, like, like, I need you, Hanzo, please,” he rambled, breathing heavily as he teetered on the edge of blowing his load.  Hanzo could tell him to say he was a turducken and Cole would try to quack, bawk, and gobble all at the same time for him.

Luckily, Hanzo wasn’t as stupid as Cole was right now and knew what he wanted, and it wasn’t to humiliate Cole.  “I want you.”

As soon as the words were heard, Cole resumed pleading, knee tucking as he fucked into Hanzo’s hand, “I want you so much, want you like, like, uh, ooh, a, uh, beaver wants mahogany, like a dog wants a t-bone, I- I- ah, please, Hanzo, I want you-”

The last command was whispered hoarsely.  “I love you.”

“Love you, love you, love you , Hanzo, deep as the ocean, bright as the sky, long as I can.” Cole moaned, “You mean the world to me, I don’t think I- I- I- I love you, Hanzo, much as you’ll let me, please, honey, please .”

Satisfied, having gotten what he wanted, Hanzo finished Cole off, keeping the pace quick and steady until Cole was shooting streams of up and then down onto himself and the bed.  Hanzo pulled his gloved hand away before the leather could be stained.

Cole was left laying in the bed, feeling hot and spent, gasping for air as Hanzo finally pulled off his pants and boxers and straddled his body, resting just north of Cole’s cock and giving it a break for now.  Teeth wrapped around the fingers of his glove, pulling it off each hand and being tossed somewhere near his other discarded clothes.

He began to masturbate on Cole’s body, hand wrapped around his own cock as he pumped it slowly.

“Do you mind if I come on you?” he asked Cole, “I won’t if you don’t want me to.”

Cole eyed the pretty cock before him.  Long, thick, neatly groomed, and his tongue darted against his lips.

Tired grin on his face, Cole asked, “Want me to suck your-”

“No.  Not this time.” Hanzo replied, “Would you rather I get off of you and get off elsewhere or-?”

Damn,  Woulda’ been the nicest, cleanest cock Cole would have gotten to blow if he had said yes.

“You can come on me, Hanzo,” Cole said, “As many times as you want.”

Cole had already blown his load twice tonight and wasn’t sure how much he had left.  Never done more than a quickie before.  Was only fair that not only Hanzo orgasm a time himself before they got to fucking proper, but also that Cole got to see his O-face.

Hanzo, however, was in no rush.  He meant it when he said he liked savoring things, masturbation included.  

“I want to fuck you, Joel.  Turn you over and fuck you until you forget about everything that isn’t me or how much you enjoy being filled.  Would you like that?” Hanzo asked, “Or, if you’re unsure, could I fuck your thighs?  I want you on your knees tonight, but only however you're comfortable.”

“ Shiet , sure thing you can fuck me proper.  Only had to ask, pretty boy,” Cole grinned, eyes transfixed on watching Hanzo slowly pleasure himself, “Only thing I’m disappointed ‘bout is you waiting this long to ask.”

“Do you, ah, do you think an artist sits down and paints a masterpiece blindly?” Hanzo said, “No, they prepare the canvas and their materials, go in with an idea, and execute it.”

“Saying I’m pretty as a picture?” Cole teased.

“You always have been, but I have a vision for this masterpiece, and it involves turning you over, positioning you just so, and listening to your mindless moans of pleasure for the rest of the evening.” Hanzo replied.

The answer was hot as hell and had Cole ready to spin around and offer himself to Hanzo, save for the issue of the restraints, his spent cock, and Hanzo himself sitting on his front.  But other than that he was ready!

“Got a name for this masterpiece of yours?” Cole asked, eyes locked onto Hanzo’s hand, wishing sorely that he could wrap his lips around that cock and finish him off, hurry things up a bit.

“Hmm, could call it Joel , but that’s a bit uninspired.  You’re Joel already, I don’t change that.” Hanzo mused, rocking his hips into his hand and smirking as he watched Cole’s lips part eagerly, allowing access if he so chose. He did not.

“ Jiyuu no Saigo no Aji .” Hanzo decided, “That’s what I’ll call it.”

“An’ what’s that mean?” Cole asked slowly, dumbly watching Hanzo pleasure himself.

“Exactly what I said.” Hanzo replied, unwilling to spend time translating, changing the subject,.  “I’ve lube and a condom in my wallet and I’ll prep you before the anal sex.  Stretch you until you’re satisfied.”

“Gotta prep the canvas, right?” Cole teased.

“Indeed,” Hanzo replied, “Do you feel more rested now?  Would you like a drink, Joel? More time?”

“Nah, I’m-”

“Because I meant it when I said you’re coming as many times as I want tonight.” Hanzo cautioned, “I’m thinking- hoping for another two out of you.  At least.”

Cole’s eyes widened.  “Hold up- I don’t think I’ve got more than one-”

“We’ll see.” Hanzo said, speeding up his personal handjob, “I’m- I’m probably- about to- you’re sure?”

Cole caught the question.  “I’m sure,” he said, eyes moving up to Hanzo’s face as the man reached his own peak. “Go’head.”

Barely making more than a soft, low hum of pleasure, Hanzo came onto Cole’s torso, shooting thick streams of white cum onto his chest and stomach.  Of course, Hanzo’s O-face was pretty, head leaning back, eyes lidded, lips parted, looking like a picture-perfect image of bliss.

Recovering quickly, Hanzo gazed down at his handiwork and dragged a hand up Cole’s torso, through his cum, smearing and rubbing it against Cole’s skin.

“Did you want a taste?” Hanzo asked, using his finger to scoop some off of Cole’s chest, “You wanted me to fuck that mouth of yours.  Did you want my cum that badly?”

“If you’re offering,” Cole replied, hoping that would convince Hanzo to let him suck him off at least once before the night was over, because goddamn did it feel so good on those few times he got to use his mouth for more than talking.

Hanzo slowly brought his fingers to Cole’s mouth, and smeared the fluid on his lips, watching as Cole lapped it up.  Before Cole could make a sound, Hanzo ran his hand through some more cum, sliding his thumb into Cole’s mouth.

Cole sucked happily on the thumb, licking it clean, as Hanzo’s other sticky fingers pressed into his cheek, smearing his sperm onto Cole’s face.

“Good boy,” Hanzo cooed, fingers dragging down Cole’s face, “Good boy, look at you. So eager.  Should have told me how happy you are to use that mouth of yours, I had no idea.  Next time I’m fucking your face and you’ll be drinking every drop.  You spill any, I fuck you again.  Would you like that?  Would you try to play right, I wonder, or would you let it dribble out of your greedy lips, silently begging for more?”

Cole could feel a warm ball of excitedness coiling in his lower gut at the dirty talk.  “Warn a man, Hanzo, you can’t just get me all hot and bothered like that-”

“I can.  You’re mine for tonight.  I do what I want.” Hanzo replied, leaning forward and untying Cole’s wrists, “Turn, please.”

Cole obeyed, flipping over and placing his hands back where they had been.  Hanzo gently grabbed his wrists and arranged them to rest against the piece of railing directly above Cole’s head.  The mattress shifted as Hanzo leaned over, and Cole felt the familiar bite of the leather belt restraining him once more.

As soon as Hanzo finished tying, Cole gave a test tug.  Bound tight, leather wrapped around his wrists and palms, Cole’s hands were useless.  His head was bowed between his arms, ass in the air as Hanzo helped prop him up on his knees and slid a pillow or two under his hips.

Hanzo knew exactly what he wanted, he was right about that.  There was a tearing sound of a packet being ripped open and Cole felt a warm finger dipped in cold lube circling his puckered hole, silently asking permission to continue.

Cole gave a verbal go ahead while pushing back against the finger, trying to get Hanzo to speed things up.  His knees were already feeling shaky, spent as he was, and he wanted to give both of them the best sex possible in the time they had.

Hanzo was as generous with prep as he was with everything else thus far.  He worked Cole up to three fingers, taking his time and savoring the low moans of pleasure he received every time he scissored his fingers, making sure to check in with Cole throughout the process.  Was he comfortable?  Did he need a drink?  A rest? Were the bindings too tight?  Too loose?  Did they need to be redone?  And he was finished with prep now, was Cole still certain he wanted to continue?

It was kind, courteous even, that Hanzo was double, triple, quadruple checking every step of this process, making sure that he was okay.  But if he asked another question before he slipped that fat cock into Cole’s eager, stretched and prepped, empty hole, Cole just might strangle him.  It didn’t matter that his hands were tied up.  He had legs, he would find a way.

Giving his last go ahead, because he was considering violence if Hanzo teased him any further, intentionally or not, Cole waited.  There was the sound of another wrapper tearing, the condom this time, and warm hands on his hips as Hanzo moved into position.

His thumbs pulled at Cole’s asscheeks, spreading them so that he could slip in cleanly.  Cole gave a happy moan as the cock slowly entered him.  He was used to the sting at the beginning of a fuck, but being prepped, lubed, and stretched was such a luxury and made it feel so smooth.

Hanzo’s fingers dug into his hips, making Cole hiss.  They didn’t need to, but he wanted to leave bruises.  Hanzo got off on staking claims, bruises, hickeys, hell, even cumming on him.  Cole had already accepted the fact that the teeth were probably gonna make a reappearance, especially since his back side hadn’t really been marked up yet.

The pace Hanzo set was slow, agonizingly slow.  But as their bodies got accustomed to each other, and Hanzo got more comfortable, he sped up a bit.

“Do you- want to- ooh, tell me what you want? Faster or-?” Hanzo asked breathily.

“Hanzo, don’t hold back on my account.  This ain’t my first rodeo.” Cole told him easily, “Go as fast an’ hard as you want.  I can take it.”

He hadn’t meant to issue a challenge to Hanzo, but that was how Hanzo took it.  His motions stilled for a moment.  “Okay.  Tell me if you need me to slow down.” he said, “Otherwise, I’m fucking you how I want.”

“Please do.” Cole replied, unaware it would be his last coherent thought he had this evening.

Without another word, Hanzo began setting the pace that he wanted.  Fast, decently strong, holding Cole in place as he penetrated him.  Then, just as Cole was growing accustomed to the pace, Hanzo’s thrusts got stronger.

Now this was- This was a little more than Cole had anticipated happening so soon.  Then Hanzo leaned over Cole, front pressing against his back, pushing down on Cole, penetrating him as deeply as he could.

This position was- shit, fucking good.  Every stroke was hitting that pleasure point of his prostate.  Cole stiffened his legs, trying to hold himself up so that Hanzo could keep fucking him like this as long as possible.

He moaned like a bitch in heat into the mattress, head bowing as kept his ass up high.  A good pace and position set, a hand wrapped around his slowly stiffening cock, jerking it to life, as teeth nipped into his shoulder blade.

This was unfair.  His hips wanted to buck down into the hand while his ass wanted to stay where it was getting perfectly fucked.  All the sensations and his growing peak wiped his brain, falling back on carnal desires.

His moans grew throaty, desperate, and he shoved his face into the mattress as his hips stayed aloft.  Words tumbled from his lips, simultaneous pleas for mercy, for release, for a moment, for the handjob to stop because his balls were empty, he was sure they were, for more, for less, for something, for anything, please.

But Hanzo did not ease up.  Cole’s rambling and moans seemed to encourage him further, seeking more from his companion.  His pace remained relentless, fast, pounding, leaving Cole overwhelmed, too addicted to the pleasure to do anything but to hold his submissive pose steady in a silent beg for more.

The only break in Hanzo’s steady pace was when his hips would jerk forward, out of rhythm, surprising them both.  Hanzo pressed his face against the back of Cole’s throat, hot breathy pants skimming across his skim.  Cole could hear every moan, every groan, every whimper, and every growl for more that Hanzo uttered.

Mouth free from nipping Cole’s shoulder, Hanzo began talking, voice low, words punctuated with moans as his hips never stilled, “Beautiful man, so beautiful.  So eager.” he purred, “You’re a natural on your knees, made to submit-”

His low voice was setting a fire in Cole’s lower gut, who moaned as he spoke.  He felt when Hanzo’s parted lips turned into a pleased smile, enjoying every sound, feeling, and moment he was having with Cole.

“You like being submissive?  Kneeling for me?  Good boy, good man, good good good.” Hanzo was panting into his skin, hips thrusting hard, hands now wrapping around Cole’s torso as Hanzo tried to reach his own peak, “Want to keep you.  Treat you right.  Spoil you senseless every day and fuck you senseless every night, every night, you and me, forever.  Being mine-oh, oh yes.  Yes!  Please please please please -”

Most of Hanzo’s weight was on Cole now, who was struggling to be sturdy as Hanzo had left him a gooey pile of arousal with his hips and lips.  The height difference between them had Hanzo clinging onto Cole’s body as if his life depended on it, his words devolving into panting moans and gasps as he reached his own climax with a muted groan.

As he came, his hips stilled, and his muscular arms wrapped tightly around Cole’s torso, knocking the air out of him.  Cole’s arms gave in at last and he faceplanted into the bed, ass still held high thanks to the pillows that Hanzo had tucked under him, and he was left moaning muffledly into the mattress, wordlessly begging for his own built-up need to be released.

Without raising his head, Hanzo reached down and resumed Cole’s handjob, understanding what he needed.  Cole’s eyes welled up with tears as he neared his own climax, his dick sore, his balls aching, dreading and needing his third and final release of the night.

He thrust into Hanzo’s slick hand, sobbing against the mattress as he neared his peak.  His cries grew louder as Hanzo’s pace increased, until he was coming for the last time that night with a shout.  His world turned white even as his eyes slammed shut, the last sound he registered was his own needy moan. 

When his eyes opened back up, he found he was now laying on his side, head resting against Hanzo’s chest.  His wrists were now untied and Hanzo held one in his hand, massaging it and ensuring there was good blood flow.  His other hand was mindlessly stroking Cole’s hair and face.

He felt when Cole stirred and his motions stilled as he glanced down at him.  He leaned down and kissed him on the forehead, and then spoke.

“How do you feel?” he asked.  “What can I do for you?”

“Stay here for the rest of your life?” Cole asked, gazing up at him.

Hanzo looked at him sadly.  “Please don’t tempt me,” he said quietly, asking again, “How do you feel?”

“Like I died in the best way and went to heaven, but I had to run up the stairs myself, or like bounce up with a pogostick up my ass because my hole got a hell of a workout, and, hoo, am I tuckered out.” Cole confessed, “And I passed out at the top of stairs and woke up in the arms of the handsomest angel there is.”

Hanzo’s lips twitched into a slightly-off smile, amused by Cole’s rambling while trying to cover up a secondary emotion.  “Sounds like you enjoyed it.”

“Enjoyed it?  I feel like I should be thanking you, because you did all the work and I ain’t used to being so spoiled.” Cole said awkwardly, “So, uh, thank you.”

That reaction caught Hanzo off-guard.  “You’re welcome?” he replied, odd smile still on his lips, “Now, I would love to stay all night, but I have to return to my family grounds before they grow suspicious.  But, before I go, I want to clean you up and make sure you’re comfortable.  I’ll be right back”

Hanzo carefully maneuvered out from under Cole, doing his best to disturb the man as little as possible.  Cole missed the burning warmth of Hanzo’s skin and felt the chill of the room start to sink into his bones.  However, as sticky and sweaty as he felt, the idea of being cleaned up - and not having to do it by himself like always - wasn’t too unappealing.

Waiting, Cole heard the sound of running water in the bathroom, the long pause between Hanzo’s entry and exit implying that the man was cleaning himself up first before he returned to Cole.  Fuzzy as his head felt, Cole could hear some mumbling coming from behind the locked door, the noise low under the scream of the water-gushing faucet.

Tired eyes half-lidded as he waited, head resting against the pillow, there was a sharp sound that had him snapping to attention, slowly pushing himself up in concern.  The unmistakable slap of flesh on flesh, a sound that Cole knew very well from his trouble-filled youth.  Then he heard a second one, harsher than the first, that had him fighting to push himself up and swing his legs over the side of the bed, more concerned than before.

The bathroom door swung open and Hanzo stepped back into the room before Cole could maneuver off of the bed.  Damp cloth in hand, he came to a stop in front of Cole, eyes lingering on his sticky chest as he spoke.

“Um, would you like to- no, it’s my- but- I’ll clean you off, I said I would,” he said, hand freezing in front of Cole, lingering before he pulled it back, “But I can’t- I don’t- You have to.”

Cole silently watched Hanzo, concerned and confused.  Maybe the man had nutted a bit too hard and his brain was a lil’ broke right now.

Then he saw the bright red mark he knew all too well on Hanzo’s right cheek, and his own cheek stung in sympathy.  Had Hanzo hit himself? Had that been what the sound was. Why would he do that?

Hanzo looked at him apologetically.  “I’m sorry, Joel, I need a moment, I thought I was ready.  I am not.” he said, wheeling around and stepping away from Cole.

“I can clean myself.” Cole offered, unsure if Hanzo was just now getting grossed out by all the fluids on the bed.  “Ain’t gonna hurt me none, I’ve done it before-”

“ NO.  I will.  That’s not good manners, making a guest clean up after themselves.  Not good manners at all.” Hanzo said, back still to Cole, “That’s not gentlemanly.  It’s horrible behavior, even, as expected of course.  That sort of behavior is why I’m here.”

Hanzo sighed, shoulders slumping, taking a long moment to resign himself.  It seemed he regretted the words that had left his mouth.  He turned back around, revealing a quiet, somber look that Cole hadn’t expected to see, and stepped forward, finally pressing the wet cloth against Cole’s body.

“Please forgive me.  I wish you hadn’t heard that.  I wish I had been strong enough to act initially, but I’m not and…  It would be much so, very preferable, very very preferable, if you pretend it didn’t happen.” Hanzo rambled as he gently sponged the damp cloth on Cole’s body, eyes averted as he put on the effort of trying to keep himself together, “It should not have happened.  This is just far more painful for me than I expected, even though I sought out that pain first place.”

Cole looked Hanzo’s body up and down, worried that he had gotten hurt somehow during sex.  Why else would it be painful?  What else was there?

“D’ya need to sit down a minute?” Cole asked, concerned.  “Ain’t no rush ‘bout none of this, Hanzo.  Don’t go hurting yourself for me.”

Hanzo’s hand stilled, motionless against Cole’s chest.  His shoulders trembled, mouth twisting until a low chuckle escaped his lips.  It wasn’t a true laugh.  More one that could be mistaken for sobbing with how he sucked in air in sharp gasps and how joyless and desperate it sounded.

Finally, Hanzo shut his eyes tight, smacked an open hand against his thigh, and pulled himself back together.

“I don’t need to sit, no.  But thank you.  I appreciate the concern.” Hanzo replied, eyes roaming until they landed on Cole’s bruised neck.  He raised a hand and gently traced the backs of his fingers against the marks on Cole’s throat.  “I wish I hadn’t marred you so much.  So aggressively.  It was selfish to do so, though you wear it beautifully.  But once those bruises fade there will be nothing of me left… as they should for you’re not mine to claim, you never were, you never will be.  That slipped my mind in the moment.  I apologize.”

Hanzo’s tone shift from the confident, polite soul that Cole had walked into this room with to the somber, defeated man who stood before him was scaring the crap out of him.  Raising a hand, Cole gently slid his fingers onto Hanzo’s right cheek, encouraging the eye contact that Hanzo had been avoiding so far.

“Hey, handsome.  What’s wrong?” Cole asked quietly, utterly convinced he had fucked something up like he always did, “You can talk to me.”

He hadn’t realized that the distant look in Hanzo’s eyes had been signifying a dam, but once he spoke small tears began to well up in the corners of Hanzo’s eyes, teeth gritting as he tried and failed to hold them back.

“I-” Hanzo made a sound, starting to speak, but cut himself off.  Lips pulled tight, Cole recognized a look he himself had worn many times.  It was a look of lip-locking, being so used to the fact that no one would listen to what you had to say that there was no point in speaking, or fear that the wrong words would upset the wrong person in the wrong way and saying nothing was the only right move.

“Yeah?” Cole prompted, “You what, Han?”

Hanzo’s eyes shut, lips pursing together, a sign of internal frustration at his own weakness, and he took a long inhale before his eyes opened once more.  He had calmed himself down, built a wall back up in front of that brief moment of vulnerability.

“I’m not ready to let you go.  It terrifies me to even consider.  I know what’s meant for me after this moment, I always have. Everything’s proceeding as planned, as it has my whole life, as it has tonight,.” Hanzo admitted quietly, quickly adding, “I do love you, Joel, I do .  More than I have anyone else before.  If I could have one wish in life, it would be that this night never ends and that I could be here with you as long as I wanted and I wouldn’t have to face the pain of letting you walk away.  But I can’t.”

Oh hell.  Cole was hoping that Hanzo’s earlier confession had been an exaggeration, random rambling at the moment.  Having him double-down sent Cole into a panic, terrified of the emotional confession he was sure was a joke, and terrified that it wasn’t, and that he had tricked someone like Hanzo into thinking an idiot like him was worth something somehow.

Cole’s teeth grit tightly and his heart plummeted into his stomach as Hanzo spoke.  Guilt filled his body, as he must have done something wrong to make this happen, tears stinging in the corners of his eyes as he realized that Hanzo was being sincere in saying that he did love him.  And that this night coming to an end, to their inevitable split, was what had him hating himself.

“I said I would break your heart.” Cole said hoarsely, blinking back tears, desperately wishing both that Hanzo would change his mind and that somehow he also meant every word, “I warned you.  Why did you let me-”

Hanzo’s expression softened as he saw the look of pain cross Cole’s face.   “Dry your eyes, Joel, don’t cry.  You’ve done nothing wrong.  Getting my heart broken was always the plan." he admitted as he leaned forward and began pressing soft kisses against Cole's forehead, leaving Cole's thoughts reeling.

Wide-eyed, horrified at Hanzo’s confession, Cole’s jaw dropped and he pulled his hand back to his lap.  " What? "

The word popped out of Cole's lips before he could stop himself, too confused by the situation to keep his tongue on a leash.

"Why?" he added quietly, confused.

"I have fallen for you and I want you to break my heart.  I want you to tear it into pieces, and take part of it with you when you leave." Hanzo confessed quietly, rubbing the back of his knuckles against Cole’s cheek, "Because once my heart is broken enough, once there's nothing left to feel, it won't hurt any longer to be the son my family always wanted me to be -  who I need to be."

Cole’s mouth moved wordlessly as he finally understood where his math had been off.  This had never been a one-nigh- he never would have assumed that he was- how could Hanzo- with him?

“Break me, please,” Hanzo pleaded, speaking over Cole’s inability to find any words “Turn me to stone.  Ruin me.  Shatter me.  Take what’s left of my heart with you once we part and do with it what you please.  Just take all of it.  I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

The plea was full of desperation, the cry of a man who knew the only road before him was full of thorns and would kill him with a thousand cuts.  Thinking back over the night, Cole started to understand what Hanzo had done.  The entire situation between them had been created by Hanzo, the meeting, the conversations, the locations, all him.  The minute he had come into the bar, locating Genji had been a secondary objective, his excuse for being there.

He hadn’t needed to apologize to Cole, to take him out to dinner, to find him a room.  Hadn’t needed to give him time of day at the bar.  Hell, he hadn’t even needed to walk behind him, the dancefloor would part for him and give him all the space he needed had he dared step on it because he was a fucking Shimada, they ran this town.

Or at least Hanzo’s family did.  The man himself?  Seemed rather powerless when it came to his folks, same as Genji.

Cole thought that he had been distracting Hanzo, that the man had been playing into his hands the whole night.  But Hanzo had been playing a different game with different rules and it was clear looking between them, though it was a photo finish, that Hanzo had emerged the victor.

Had Hanzo been approaching him when Cole ran into him at the club?  Coming to decide if he was worth coming back for after he located Genji and gave his brother a talking to?  He recalled now how, back at the bar, Hanzo had been looking him over.  Sizing him up.  Deciding if he was worth the time investment.

But why Cole?  

Because he was a foreigner.  He wasn’t from here.  He wouldn’t know the town politics, the leash that Hanzo had on.  He had been the safest gamble for Hanzo to find the connection he had been seeking.

And then he had set them up on a blind dinner date.  His routine was too smooth.  He had done this before.  Hanzo mentioned that he knew people in the town, he could spot the strangers in Hanamura, he knew who didn’t belong.

And then he took them out for food, to satisfy whatever whim or craving they might reveal, and used that time to decide if they were safe to pursue.  If he had fallen in love…. No.  

No, by the time dinner was on the table Hanzo had decided he was in love with Cole.  That look had been real, those words… Cole would have known if they were fake, he had been lied to many times before.  Reading people was one of the few things he was genuinely good at.  He knew how to spot a liar.  Hanzo had never been one.

What Hanzo did was set up scenarios that put his guest in the best light, the rose-colored honeymoon phase of a relationship, before the thorns could prick and the petals could rot away.  By the time dessert had hit the table, he had convinced himself that they were the love of his life.

Not out of insanity, but out of desperation.  The wrong kind.  He wasn’t desperate to be loved, he was desperate to find a way to stop falling in love, to stop feeling anything, to fill that void in his heart once and for all, lock and key it shut.

...if you attempt to spread lies about me to my family, and think they’ll buy information off you, know they’d never take your word for it.”

He was trying to break his own heart out of fear of his family.  That was it.  He knew that they wouldn’t approve of something to do with him in this situation, and that there were people who would be happy to sell this info.

It didn’t take a genius, not that Cole was one, to put together Hanzo’s flying across the restaurant room whenever he heard footsteps to realize that he didn’t want to be seen flirting with Cole.  A man.  Not when his family was, as Reyes said at one point, hyper-traditional .

Lust. 

You think you’re lust.

I don’t think.  

I know.

“I can’t see myself doing this again, with someone else, with someone less than you.  I can’t.” Hanzo continued, hands fidgeting uncertainly, “You might very well be the one that ends me and gives what my family the man they always wanted and for that I thank you.”

Ends him?  But Cole wasn’t going to kill him or nothing, not that that would give the family what they wanted, so what-

Oh shit.  Shit shit shit, no.

He hadn’t realize how bad the family had fucked up the two brothers until now.

Genji rebelled by engaging in addictions, alcohol, drugs, sex, seeking to escape the pain that was his family and their expectations temporarily, and communicating with Overwatch to form a permanent escape plan.  He sought solace in his pleasures, but Hanzo?  

Oh, Hanzo.  

Hanzo treated his addictions and delights like punishments, using them to poison himself and his experiences, ruining those moments of peace he sought out bit by bit.  He saw no escape from the prison that was his life, and realized that his own wants and desires were at odds with the life path designed for him, setting him up for a life of pain and misery.  

So what he could do but ram his skull into his cell wall over and over, fracturing it and letting what little delights he had left leak out until nothing was left but an empty shell his family could fill how they saw fit?

Hanzo was trying to fucking lobotomize himself heartbreak after heartbreak until he could fulfill his family obligations.  He couldn’t get out of his family.  So all he wanted was to numbly exist for it, his own wants meaningless to himself.  Because if he was forced to feel just how suffocating his cage truly was, he would sooner asphyxiate than stand it a moment more.

Genji looked towards escape as his only method of survival, but Hanzo felt the only way to survive was to submit to the ever-growing numbness and let others take the control they wanted, to follow the script they had written for his life line by line by line by line until the curtain was meant to close for the finale fifty years later.

The Shimada heirs’ lives were decided the moment they were born.  Be raised in the family politics.  Trained in the family arts.  Be married to a nice, rich girl, and have a strong heir to continue the bloodline like all the other kings before him had, his own affections be damned.  Deviating from the established pattern would never be allowed.

“Hanzo-” Cole began, but the man pressed a finger to his lips and shook his own head.

“Don’t.” Hanzo could tell from Cole’s expression that he had figured out Hanzo’s whole game, “Please.  Don’t think about it.  I never lied to you, Joel, I do love you.”

Cole looked at him hesitantly, “Do you?”

“More than I have any of the others, more than I have anyone else.” Hanzo confessed.  “I’d do anything to bring that smile back, Joel, please give it to me.  Tell me how I can bring it back and have you stop looking at me like that, like you… like you pity me.  Please.”

It was hard not to.  All the money in the world couldn’t buy Hanzo the life he wanted to live, not when the Shimadas were the ones holding the purse strings.  But for Hanzo’s sake, he tried.

“I think you’re just getting more desperate, Hanzo.  I think you’re letting yourself sink deeper every time because when you return to the surface you find nothing’s changed,” Cole replied, “I’m no different than anyone else.”

That seemed to annoy Hanzo more than anything else had tonight.  “But you are.  You are, Joel, there is no one else like you.  You’re genuine, kind, sweet, handsome, strong-” Hanzo’s hands grasped at Cole’s cheeks, holding him firmly in place and keeping him quiet as he praised him, “I don’t know who made you think you were nothing special, that you’re not worthy of love, but I will kill them.  I’ll ruin them.  I’ll punish them however you please, Joel, and I’ll show you just how much you mean.  Not just to me, to you, how much you matter to everyone, to the world, and how much I’ll miss you...”

“Hanzo-” 

Cole was sorely tempted to tell him about how Genji was trying to escape, and how Hanzo could join him, but he couldn’t.  Not yet, he didn’t trust himself to do it right.  But he would talk to Reyes about this, Gabriel would know how to get them both out of here.

“Hanzo, where’s that pretty lil’ smoothtalker that I’ve gotten to know this evening?” Cassidy tried, wanting to bring Hanzo back down.  Being around a pissed-off Hanzo was dangerous, even if he wasn’t the one that Hanzo was angry at.  Besides, he didn’t like seeing Hanzo acting like this.

Hanzo’s head ducked in shame.  “I’m sorry, I- I- I just… whenever you talk like you’re worthless, it angers me.  No one is worthless, no one is born worthless, no one lives thinking they don’t matter, someone else puts those thoughts there and I-... you don’t deserve that-” Hanzo sucked in a breath and continued, “Because you mean the world to me.  You’re my everything.  I can’t imagine anyone else sitting here where you are, I can’t- I don’t want anyone else, which-”

Hanzo’s face softened, the knitted brow grimace giving way to a more relaxed expression, and he surprised Cole by laughing.

“Which- you- I love you, Joel.  I adore you with every fiber of my being,” Hanzo said, immediately quieting down and returning to that cocky sweetalker he had been with all evening.  “No one could ever replace you.”

Whatever thought Hanzo had just had brought him relief of some kind.  What had he just thought of?  What had he just realized?

He was no longer the open-book that Cole had been conversing with all evening.  His smiling expression was unreadable except for a look of… peace in his eyes?  That worried him the most.

Then Cole understood why.  Because no matter what happened from here on out, Hanzo had gotten exactly as he wanted.  Whether Cole grew angry, happy, sad, whether he reciprocated the emotion or not, Hanzo had won.  There was nothing Cole could do that would keep Hanzo from feeling the pain he had wanted inflicted upon him.

Nothing except…

Cole was desperate to save Hanzo.  Hanzo had never been the bad guy, not like they had been told.  He was just held hostage by traditions, being stuck doing the same things the dead people before him had done.  

The way he saw it, Hanzo was standing on the edge of a cliff, eyes fixed gazing out at the endless sea of tradition before him.  He didn’t expect help, he didn’t expect to stay dry, he was just stalling because once he took the plunge there was no returning to the surface.

But Cole could help him.  Cole could pull him back from the edge, slip his fingers into the hand that never expected to be held, turn him around, and show him the world of possibilities once he removed the family blinders.

There had to be a way to get him out of the Shimadas’ grasp, to convince him to leave, before he took the plunge.  Cole had been destined for prison for the rest of his life, it only felt right to find a way to keep Hanzo out of a prison of his family’s making.

“Could we meet again tomorrow?” Cole spoke before he could think.  “I ain’t in a rush to go anywhere.  Could we meet at the club again tomorrow night?”

Hanzo blinked twice, snapping back, looking at Cole questioningly.  “There’s no need for you to delay your life for me, Joel.  If you have other plans, then by all means-”

“Nothing more important than you.” Cole promised him, adding with a smile and a wink, “Besides, a fella’ like you is worth sticking around for.”

The smooth, warm words had Hanzo melting; tense shoulders relaxing, stiff posture loosening, as if a heavy weight had been lifted off of him.

“I’ve no right to another night of your time, but there’s nothing I want more,” Hanzo confessed, “One more night of living my fantasies before I’m thrust back into place… I’d be a fool to say no.”

“And you ain’t no fool, now are ya’?” Cole asked with a soft smile.

Hanzo shook his head, “That depends on who you ask.  My family thinks I am.  They keep throwing potential brides at me left and right and I nitpick, fixate on small, pointless imperfections because they’re not who I want, though other men would kill to spend a night with them.” he said, “My own brother does as well.  Why do what they ask?  Why not be more like him?  Why not gallivant into the night, take advantage of the women they throw at me, and ignore all responsibilities?  But he forgets that when he casts his duties aside, someone still has to follow along behind him and fix the mess or else he… the elders of the family would seek him out.”

“That someone you?” Cole asked.

Hanzo smiled sadly.  “Who else would it be?” he asked, “I wish he would grow up.  The less he does, the more I’m demanded to be the one to straighten him out, to carry the burden myself.  It’s unfair and I try not to hate him for it, but I-... He’s my brother, we both stand with and look out for each other even if he sees me as bossy or a suck-up, the only thing we can count on is our loyalty to each other; it’s only for the best-…  Though, the stress he causes is certainly not helping our father, but my father knows who he raised.”  

“Getting the feeling the only reason you ain’t run and splitting this joint is because of your brother.” Cole asked carefully.

“He would never survive if I left, and I doubt he would leave on his own accord.  Neither of us would abandon the other.  Our father nicknamed my brother Sparrow, and I’m uncertain if it is because my brother is too relaxed, flighty and flitting about aimlessly, or because sparrows are not meant to be caged.” Hanzo responded, “I wonder what nickname would be, if I had been given one… Rooster, probably, though I feel a cormorant or canary is more accurate.”

Hanzo mulled a moment before he continued. “Besides that, my whole life has been about me training to run the clan one day.  That’s all I know.” he said, “I’ve been told many times before that anything that I think is mine belongs to the clan; I belong to the clan, until the day I am to lead it and become a true Shimada.  Until then, I am nothing.  Hanzo is irrelevant, it’s only the Shimada that matters… It’s easier for everyone if I stay and hope that when the day comes that I get to be someone to this family, that I can still be me.”

Easier for everyone?  Not easier for Hanzo, certainly.

Cole felt like he had to test him, just once, just to know if he even dared to hope that he could rescue Hanzo from his fate, the same way he had been by Reyes.  “But… what if you could run away to somewhere they can’t find you, Hanzo, and be whoever you wanted to be?” he asked quietly, “Would you?”

Hanzo was quiet for a very long moment, hands busy cleaning Cole off, taking some time to think about how to answer.

“I-” he paused and shrugged, “I’ve never thought about it before.  Because if I ever were to think it, and dream about it, I think I would lose my mind.” he admitted, “The water in my pot grows hotter everyday, but as long as I don’t reach my hand out for a life that I will never live, I won’t notice and will be able to stand and survive it even when the water boils, remembering that they love me in their own way and what they’re doing is for the best of the clan.”

Cole didn’t like the answer, especially how it didn’t really answer his question.  “What if it gets too hot for you?”

Hanzo shrugged.  “Unlikely, but if it does?  Then I’ve nothing to worry about anymore.” he said simply, raising his eyes to Cole’s and changing the subject, “How would you like to meet tomorrow?”

“At the club work for you?” Cole asked, accepting the subject change and non-answer as they were.  They could talk more later. “I’m thinking meet there about the same time.  Do whatever you want that night.”

“The club will work.  Perhaps another dinner as well.  Do you like noodles?  It’s not the fanciest place, but it is a favorite of mine. A guilty pleasure really, I’m not supposed to eat there anymore, but I would love to show it to you; I could have some delivered to the room for us even.” Hanzo began, stepping away and gathering his clothes from the pile he had tossed them, “I’d still have to restrain you tomorrow, as I did tonight, but I would love to put your mouth to work.  Would you like that?”

“I would love all of that, thank you very much.” Cole replied, watching Hanzo pull the rest of his clothes back on.  Hanzo was quick, hands rebuttoning his shirt with ease, but in about a minute he stood there, looking almost as neat as when he first set foot into the room.

“Good, good.  I’ll have to think more about tomorrow night, what I want to do to you, and how I want to thank you for spending one more night with me.  It’s good motivation,” Hanzo said, stepping back towards the bed, “Because more time with you is one the best gifts I have ever received.”

Bending down, Hanzo placed a soft kiss onto Cole’s lips, one that was reciprocated immediately.  Cole’s hands slid up, intent on wrapping around Hanzo’s shoulders and pulling him back down, but Hanzo stopped him and pulled away.

“Save it for tomorrow night, because if you pull me back down, I will never find it in myself to leave, and I must be going now,” he said, placing his hand on Cole’s cheek and kissing him on the forehead before he stepped away, “Good night, Joel.  I love you.”

“Love you too,” Cole said sadly, watching Hanzo glance back at him once more before he stepped out of the door, leaving him alone in the room.

Tomorrow he would tell him everything, Cole decided as he crawled to the head of the bed and collapsed as he pulled himself under the covers.  Once he talked to Reyes and figured out how to go about extraction, because Cole did not want to screw up Reyes’ plan with Genji, he would tell Hanzo everything.  Who he was, what he was doing, his real name, and how he could get him and his brother out.

Tomorrow, when the sun was up, his own plan could begin, and tomorrow, when the sun had set, he hoped that the two brothers would be starting a new life.

But first, sleep.  If he had been lucky, he would have dreamed of a longer night with Hanzo, but he was so tired that he dreamed of nothing at all.

---

When Cole awoke in the morning, he knew his bed was going to be empty.  It didn’t lessen the blow when his eyes drifted to the mattress and he saw the vacancy that Hanzo would have fit perfectly into.  The morning chill was uncomfortable enough, but not having a partner to offer some warmth in the cold air left him mentally sulking.

There was nothing for him to pack, as all his things were at the hotel where Blackwatch was stationed, so all he had to do was clean himself up, get dressed, and pick up his bag.  Then, casting one last look at the hotel room behind him, and slapping his ass to make sure that he had brought a room key with him and his dumb self wasn’t about to get himself locked out of the space, he pulled the door shut behind him.

Then he started the slow trudge back to Blackwatch’s temporary base.  He took his time, enjoyed the sights, made no effort to rush.  Reyes was probably going to kill him once he returned, having disappeared for the night, so he wasn’t going to bust his butt hoofing it back there just to have Reyes’ boot planted in his backside.

He knocked on the door using the seven quick knocks they had been using as code and heard a flurry of activity as someone raced to unlock and open the door.

Reyes swung the door open and stared at Cole wordlessly, then grabbed him by the front of his shirt and hauled him inside the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

“Where the hell have you been?” Reyes hissed at him, his anger a combination of frustration and fear at Cole’s disappearance.  “You gave the signal last night and vanished, and have been ignoring any attempts at communication-”

Cole blinked twice.  They have been communicating with him?  Figured that they had just left him for dead and threw a party about it.

Daring to look away from Reyes’ burning stare, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his issued phone.  He tapped the power button on the side and was met with a black screen.  No power left.

“I told you this thing’s been draining its’ juice like a vegan vampire,” Cole said to Reyes, “You gonna get the battery fixed this time or just tell me to plug it in and deal with it like every other time?”

Reyes was not in the mood to be toyed with, nor was he pleased to be talked back to in front of the other agents working in the small space.  He dragged Cole to the master bedroom, threw Cole onto the bed, and slammed that door behind him.

Reyes stared at him, watching Cole right himself and properly plop his ass down on the end of the mattress, feet planted on the floor.  As Gabriel’s eyes lingered, Cole felt his shoulders tuck inward, his initial defiance waning under his boss’ well-practiced glare.

There must have been some combination of watching Cole shrink under his gaze and the fact that his formerly missing agent had returned safely that quenched that initial fiery fury that had Gabriel hauling his ass in here in the first place.  Gabe shut his eyes, bowed his head, muttered a quick thanks and request for internal calmness probably to his Catholic God, though it was probably an open-ended call for whoever was ready to pick-up, sighed, and then looked at Cole once more.

Now his eyes, having lost their anger, gazed at Cole with exhaustion.  Those were the eyes of a man that had an agent go missing 0vernight, and had stayed awake attempting to contact or locate the agent while keeping command of the other units and not have their main mission priority, Genji, compromised.

“Je-, ahem, Agent.” Reyes began, realizing that, despite the emotions involved, he had to keep this professional; titles only, no names.  “I need a detailed mission report on what happened and where you went after you sent out the alert.  You were stationed at the front of the club, you sent out the signal that a Shimada family member or guard entered the facility, you then vanished for over twelve hours, and no other agents saw any Shimada adjacent individuals.  By all current accounts, this is you going AWOL and abandoning your post.  You are going to be reprimanded as you acted without orders, but I’m giving you the chance to plead your case, explain the actions you took, and lessen the punishment.”

Cole was silent for a long moment.  “You do this for any agent in my position or just because I’m your feel-good pet project and you’re worried I’m making you look bad?”

Reyes wasn’t fazed by the question.  “I give all agents a chance to explain themselves.  Sometimes there are good reasons for acting independently or breaking orders.” Gabe said, “Don’t waste your chance, agent.  There are only so many that you’ll get.”

Cole’s arms crossed and his teeth grit.  Reyes may say otherwise, but Cole could feel the added pressure that came with being Reyes’ handpicked pupil.  Gabriel wanted to utilize his talents and give him a chance to prove himself, but no one else really wanted him here.  He was starting to doubt that even Reyes did.

No matter what he did, he was judged and weighed down by his past, carrying around a permanent negative from his past that turned people against him.  He could save a bundle of orphans from a burning bus and someone would still chide him for accidentally scraping a kid's knee.

It made him miss Hanzo even more.  The warmth of his touch and the undeserved safety and importance that Cole had felt in his presence.  The fact that he could be himself, or almost himself anyway.  It was the closest he had felt to being himself, assuming that he even still knew who he was after all these years of living as someone else.

“There was a Shimada family member that entered the club, the one we was warned about, Hanzo Shimada.” Cole began.

“The brother, the head honcho in training, right.  Genji Shimada gave us intel on him.  Considered him the most likely to appear.” Reyes added, either trying to justify Cole’s excuse in his head or prepare himself for corroboration on the report he was going to have to write about the incident.

“I diverted his attention and distracted him, he escorted me outside after I faked being sick, and I continued to keep him occupied for the rest of the evening to ensure that Genji was able to safely be taken to a more secure location and we didn’t risk losing him as a source.” Cole explained, “I had no time to await or request orders, but I succeeded in keeping Hanzo busy.  I assume Genji made it out?”

“He did.  As soon as the signal came through, talks were suspended and he was escorted out by two of our female agents posing as his… engagements for the night.” Reyes confirmed, “The evacuation process takes less than five minutes, and you know this.  Why did you disappear for so long?”

Cole tried to explain himself. “I was gathering intel on Hanzo-”

“We have intel, Agent.  We’re talking to his brother, that’s as close to the source as we can get.” Reyes interrupted.

“No, sir, pardon me, but our intel is wrong.” Cole started.  “Or, rather, it’s, uh, skewed.”

That bold statement had Reyes raising an eyebrow.  “You’re saying that Genji is lying to us and that this entire mission is wasted, if not a set-up?  Because those are bold words, agent.”

“No, uh, no, Reyes sir.  That’s not-” Cole struggled to explain himself.  It was hard to talk sometimes, to explain the thoughts that were in his head, especially around people that really didn’t seem to want to hear them, “I believe Genji’s, uh, information is accurate to, um, him.  But it’s not- it’s not accurate to Hanzo.”

Reyes looked like he was giving it his best to follow along.  “Meaning?”

“The Hanzo that Genji knows is not-… Hanzo’s-… The Shimada family has pretty strict expectations for their members and both brothers are keeping their own thoughts and personalities hidden, even from each other.” Cole rambled, “Hanzo was nothing like Genji told us, not when we was alone.  But when other people were around, he… acted like Genji said he would, strict, lofty, hoity-toity, bored with little folk kinda man, but when it was just us? Sweetest man I’ve ever met.”

Now Reyes started to look concerned.  “And how did you say you occupied him all night?” he asked.

Cole didn’t like Reyes’ tone.  “I didn’t say,” he murmured.

Reyes’ brows started to knit together in concern.  “Tell me.”

“Well, uh, he took me outside, made sure I was okay and asked me who I was.  Told him I was traveling, taking a gap year in school, gave him a fake name, and, uh, he took me to dinner.” Cole said, “And he treated me because he thought I was broke, and then gave me a room for the night at a hotel in the city, and, uh, we…sorta..um-”

Reyes was squeezing his eyes shut tight, fingers pinching at the broad bridge of his nose.  “You- Shit.  That’s why you’re on a first-name basis, innit?” Reyes murmured, “God fucking dammit.”

Cole quietly spoke.  “I didn’t finish, sir.”

“Oh, I’m sure you did , if he’s as nice as you’re implying.  No way a gentleman wouldn’t let you finish.” Reyes growled, hand tearing away from his face as he motioned to Cole, “I can see the hickeys and teethmarks on your neck, kid.  I don’t really need you to spell it out.  I’m just trying to figure out how to put one of my agents fucked one of our primary targets-slash-threats unprompted in a way that Jack doesn’t suspend this entire mission or reprimand me for submitting pornography on an official report.”

Cole, mouthy as he was, knew better than to speak now, especially now that Jack was getting brought up.  He sat there silently, letting Reyes stew, terrified that any sound he made would result in the snip of his last lifeline and get him thrown back into the slammer.

What was he supposed to say?  He thought he had been doing everything right.  He had only been trying to help everyone as much as he could, was it his fault that it had been the best night of his life?

Cole sitting there like a kicked puppy, hunched into the smallest size possible, got to Reyes somehow.  Either way, his anger soon fizzled away.

“This is my fault.  I’ve not trained you well enough for these types of situations, so you acted in the manner you thought best to ensure mission success.” Reyes sighed, “But, kid, when I said if you blow this shot you don’t get another chance, I didn’t mean you had to let yakuza brats blow their load into you.  You never had to be put in a position where you had to pimp yourself.  I said that Blackwatch does whatever it takes to succeed, not suck seed .  I- I am trying to figure out what to do right now because the mission so far has been a success, but I don’t want to reward you for hurting yourself and make you think this is a legitimate method to getting in my good graces, because fucking hell, it isn’t.”

“I didn’t hurt myself, sir.  Everything I did was of my own vol- vole- vul- I did it,” Cole admitted, “If you’re thinking I was forced or hurt or anything, I wasn’t.  It was my choice to stay because I wasn’t ready to leave.  He was a right proper gentleman all night long. I could’ve left any time I wanted to and he would have let me go.”

The way Reyes was talking, he seemed to think that Hanzo had forced himself onto Cole, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.  Hanzo already thought himself a monster of his own sins and a prisoner of his desires, Cole couldn’t stand anyway else looking at him that way too.

“So you’re compromised?  Sympathizing with the enemy?  I appreciate the honesty.” Reyes sighed, looking very tired, “You weren’t prepared for this type of engagement, not trained at all, so I’m pulling you from the mission.  Pack your things-”

Cole shot upright, “Wait, no, wait! I- I told him we could meet again tonight, at the bar, then we leave,” Cole said, “I can distract him so that Genji can continue talks uninterrupted tonight.  And, maybe, you know, Hanzo ain’t happy with his family either, he was talking ‘bout that too…  Maybe we can-”

“I am not signing off on a second encounter, especially as compromised as you are, agent.  That meeting will not take place.” Reyes said firmly, “I’ll inform the other agents that Hanzo will be arriving at that club’s bar tonight, so we’ll arrange a new location for talks.”

Cole’s hands curled into fists.  Was Reyes not listening to him?

Cole exclaimed. “Gabe!”

“Commander.” Reyes corrected, pulling rank as he felt an argument incoming.

“Commander Gabe!” Cole tried again, “I think I can talk to Hanzo tonight and figure out if he would be willing ta’ leave the family, like Genji wants to and could give us some-”

“We can’t risk that.  Genji’s already difficult to convince, but we’re closing in on successful negotiations with him.  It’s like trying to convince a rabbit to leave its hole.  He’s twitchy, nervous, and ready to run at the drop of a hat.  Considering how much he’s talked about his brother’s loyalties to the family, if Hanzo is brought up, Genji will run.” Reyes said. “A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.  We can’t even acknowledge Hanzo as anything but a threat until Genji is secure.”

Cole could feel his heart dropping into the pit of his stomach.  “But we can save him-  We- Both of them,” Cole said, “I just need to talk to him, I’m sure I can-”

“No.  That’s final.  I’m not risking you blowing this whole mission, and I’m not risking you .” Reyes said, “Because you don’t know what Hanzo is thinking, how loyal he is.  If it came down to protecting you or protecting his family, which would he pick?  Genji, his own brother, doesn’t even feel safe.  Why should you? ”

That was an unfair question.  Cole didn’t have a good answer.  Hanzo was willing to hurt himself to be exactly who his family wanted.  Would that infliction of a pain offering at the altar of his family extend to those outside himself?

He had been keeping Cole safe all night, protecting him, ensuring that no one thought he was anything but a visitor to the town.  But what if they had been found out?  What would have happened to him then?

“But we’re Blackwatch , Reyes.  We save people, we protect them.” Cole argued, biting back tears, “ You saved me.”

“Which was justifiable and still took weeks of paperwork, and I am still working on convincing everyone that it was the right move because as much as you’ve been able to accomplish, I still deal with comments and critiques about you.  Unwarranted ones, yes, but they’re still present.” Reyes said, “Hanzo is outside of our reach or scope at the moment.  We still consider him an enemy, not a potential ally like we can Genji.”

Cole’s teeth sank into his bottom lip, drawing blood.  Justifiable?  That was all he had been considered?  They could justify keeping his ass out of prison as long as he could be of use?  And there were still folks that wanted him thrown back into the slammer?  So he was only justifiable to some.  To others, he was nothing but a waste of time.

They hadn’t wanted him.  He had just been a justifiable investment.  Goddamn.

“But Hanzo is justifi’ble,” Cole argued, using the organization’s cold language in hopes he would be understood, “Think of all the intel and info he could give us.  And, the family’s, like, ninjas, right?  We could use some ninjas.  Why can’t we save him too-?”

“Because if you try to cram too many people into your lifeboat without thinking, without acknowledging your current load, everyone will sink.  We have to be smart about this.  We take on too many loose cannons, if they don’t sink us, the inner collapse of divided opinions will.” Reyes said, “The two brothers can’t sit in the same lifeboat, assuming they’d both board it.  We have to stagger them, take one to shore first, then come back.  I can see your point and value your input, agent, but understand, we have to do what we can and it’s not possible.  Not right now.”

Cole’s teeth ground and he grimaced, throat closing as tears burned in his eyes, the act of swallowing giving him a thick painful sludge of fluids struggling to get down his throat.

He couldn’t just leave him.  Not after how wonderfully Hanzo had treated him.  That wasn’t fair.

Reyes, observant as he was, noticed Cole’s imminent breakdown.  “And, listen, we can try later, once Genji is secure.  You’re good at reading people, kid, you’re too straightforward to be swayed by false intentions.  Hell, if Genji seems comfortable enough, we can inquire with him too, see how he feels about it. But if you say he’s...  We’ll send in an agent, gauge his feelings and potential for turning, and see if he wants to work with us after Genji is safe.” Reyes promised, “He just has to keep treading water until then and I’m sure he can.  He’s the stronger of the two.  Even Genji said so.”

Cole shook his head, speaking through silent sobs, “If you would just let me talk to him-”

“You know I can’t do that.  You’re compromised, in more ways than one.” Reyes said, crossing his arms,  “You’re getting pulled from the Hanamura mission group.  Please go pack.  That’s an order.  I’ll have Agent Daniels escort you back to base.”

Cole stood up and stepped closer to Reyes, meeting him eye to eye despite the age difference between them.  Not only was he getting denied his second meeting, and being denied for his pleas to help Hanzo, he was getting pulled entirely?  Then that meant, more likely than not, he would never see him again.

In his heart, he had always known it was a one-night stand affair, but there had been a seed of hope that he would have been able to do more.  Finding out he could do nothing in return for all the kindness Hanzo had given him, and that he was breaking the promise he had made to him, hurt like a motherfucker.

“You can’t pull me from this mission-” he started.

“Daniels and Ortega will escort you back,” Reyes replied.

His finger jabbed against Reyes’ chest, “-You need me-”

Reyes was entirely unfazed.  “Daniels, Ortega, Kim, and Zamora will escort you back.”

Cole’s hand wrapped into the fabric of Reyes’ shirt, “Reyes, please-”

“Keep arguing and Daniels, Ortega, Kim, Zamora, Escobar, and Bowers will escort you back.  Is that what you want?” Reyes asked, gently prying Cole’s hand off of him,“You want to keep arguing and be shipped back with over half the mission crew escorting you in the front door and look like a monkey in the middle of a circus, or do you want one agent dropping you off at the back door and letting you slip inside and return to your quarters so no one asks questions about the animal that attacked your neck?”

Cole stood down, teeth-gritting as he forced himself to swallow his pride and submit. “One agent, sir.”

If people at the base were already considering him a waste of time, it would probably be best to not draw any more negative attention to himself than necessary.  Pulling over half of Reyes’ squad to babysit his ass back to the base’s doors wouldn’t look good for him.

“Smart kid.” Reyes said, “Grab your bag and make sure all your things are packed up.  Shouldn’t take you long.  Daniels will be waiting.  He will let me know if you give me any trouble,” Reyes cautioned him, “We’ll talk about this further once this leg of the mission is over and I return to the base.”

Reyes turned to leave the room but paused right before the doorway.  “And, this isn’t an order, but rather some advice.  What we just talked about here?  Don’t talk about it with anyone else.” Reyes said, “Don’t start the report without me.  That one is an order if anyone asks.  I’ll work on it with you.  We’ll figure out what needs to be written down and what can be… skipped over later.  You’re dismissed.”

Cole didn’t lollygag.  He checked his bag, packed away a few stay items, and readied himself to leave.  What else could he do?

Daniels was waiting by the door, bag over his shoulder, and they walked out without a word.  No other agents acknowledged Cassidy’s leaving, no heads were raised as he walked out the door.  Reyes didn’t even turn to watch him leave.

The two agents were taken to a pick-up point, where a mini-jet waited to take them back to the base.  Reyes had given Daniels some pieces of physical evidence that Genji had delivered to them, giving the two agents an excuse for an early return.

True to his word, Reyes did work on the report with Cole once he returned a few days later.  Cole had no idea what the final report looked like, however, as Reyes mainly worked on it, but finalized the report himself with who knows how many details deleted or redacted.

Also true to his word, Cole was pulled from the Hanamura missions.  His credentials were removed from access to the mission files, and instead, his punishment came from moving him over to the London sector, where he was put with a group of agents who were analyzing behavioral patterns and other news reports in the area as there had been rumors and murmurs of omnic discontentment, and they were to watch for signs of any riotous activity in the area,  

Hours of reading tiny-lettered, big worded reports, something he struggled with, staring at bright screens, not doing anything physically engaging or interesting was honestly one of the worst punishments he could have been given.  He would rather be cleaning toilets with his own toothbrush.

But other agents considered this assignment pretty easy.  They read their reports, wrote their findings, and had time to gossip.  That was when, three weeks after being demoted to the word nerd cell, he heard other agents talking, shooting the breeze with other Blackwatch agents coming or going to the break room, that the Shimada leader, Hanzo and Genji’s father, had passed away suddenly, his brief recovery from his illness taking a nosedive straight into a casket in only a few days.

Cole’s body froze.  He could hear his heart pounding in his ears, matching the tick-tick-tick of the timebomb that he could feel had just been set.  Shimadaddy passing away had changed the game entirely for the brothers and the family, not to mention Blackwatch.  That was not good news.

Cole’s mind raced in panic, terrified for both brothers, but being unable to do anything about it.  It was a horrible feeling of forced helplessness, his hands being tied back by bureaucratic fuddy-duddies who didn’t give a damn to anything but their funding and internal cliques.

He didn’t get much work done that day.  Or the next.  Just reading the same line over and over, mind racing as he tried to figure out if there was something that he could do.  He fantasized about sending a message somehow, by mail, carrier pigeon, and, something he did try, telepathically, telling Hanzo and Genji that they just had to hold out a little longer.  That help was on the way.  That all they had to do was not push each other under as they fought to keep their heads above water.

It had already been difficult to sleep after getting thrown off of the Hanamura mission crew, but once he heard the news, Cole spent his nights lying awake, worrying. Worrying about someone other than himself was kinda new, but worrying about people he couldn’t help was extremely frustrating.  

And whenever he was frustrated, he tried to find a way to destress and distract himself, which masturbation had been pretty reliable.  But all unloading the bullets in his own six-shooter did was remind him of Hanzo, which only made him sad, which left him feeling as deflated as his spent cock, which left him feeling restless, which made him frustrated, which gave him another bout of angry horniness, which he couldn’t try to jack off again because he was already spent.

 Needless to say, his sleep had suffered.  Others had noticed his heavy eyebags and trudging footsteps.  Ana recommended a tea of hers, one that she had left specially stashed for him in the kitchen, advising him that if he was unable to sleep, he should get up, walk around, distance that restless feeling from his bedroom, and try the tea.

Personally, Cole would prefer a nightcap or six to bludgeon him over the head until he passed out, but had a feeling that would get him in more trouble if he asked for something like that.

So the next time he could feel he had a restless night coming, after speaking with Ana, one of the few people he had spoken to since the seven weeks after getting pulled off the mission, he tried to follow her advice.  Before curfew was to be enforced, he went to make this special sleepy tea and down it before he had to return to his quarters.

 His socked feet padded down the long hall at about 7 pm, giving himself time to relax before he had to return to his quarters at 8 pm.  He made it to the kitchen, brewed some tea, added probably too much milk and sugar to the cup so he could drink the stuff, and carried a mug with him to go find a room with a more comfortable chair.

He held the mug with two hands, carrying the hot ceramic carefully in case it was one of Ana’s special cups or something.  He blew on the hot liquid as he walked, nearly tripping his own feet as he multi-tasked.  As his silent footsteps carried him down the hall, he heard the sound of multiple doors slamming shut, and the sound of a dozen or so agents running and shouting to each other.

As he moved to the side of the hall, making way for any agents to run past him as an alarm started to go off, he checked his pager.  Nothing.  Whatever order had been issued wasn’t for his mission squad, and wasn’t a blanket order for Overwatch or Blackwatch as a whole.

Agents Daniels, Kim, and Escobar ran past him, tugging their uniform pieces, shoes, pants, and jackets, on as they raced past him.  They were on the Hanamura crew.  What was happening?

Cole, not against orders but knowing that he wasn’t supposed to, clicked on his pager and tuned it until he could hear all of the Hanamura’s mission’s agents communicating with each other.

“ Emergency flight time requested-”

“Airway clear-”

“ Medical recruited, prepping and loading materials into the Baiji-”

“Current situational updates?”

“Last reading had critical status-”

“Check the recording-”

“Recording corrupted, last intel has 1 and 2 conversing, but device was forcibly turned off.”

“Do we think discovery?”

“Unknown-”

“Blood type AB bags loaded, patient reading blood loss reaching dangerous levels-”

“Flight speed cleared; max speed permitted-”

“Did 1 give any indication that a meeting was established with 2 for 2-3 am?”

“No-”

Cole could hear more footsteps racing up the hall.  He knew he should turn off his device, pretend he hadn’t been listening, but he couldn’t.  As an alarm blared, drowning out his own thoughts, all he could do was listen.

“ No intel on their talks?”

“None-”

“Considering B-W cover has been blown, yes no?”

Reyes’ voice came through this time, loud and clear.

“ Have to consider. Keep stealth activated on flight.  We don’t know if the elder brother attempting fratricide is because of internal issues, or because Blackwatch connections have been discovered.  Not the priority.  Only priority is keeping Genji alive.” Reyes said, “ Consider the elder a lost cause; enemy list.  Watch for signs of this being a trap.”

Reyes was racing past Cole as he spoke, but heard himself on the radio, and turned as he continued to run backward.

“ You’re not authorized on that channel, kid, turn it off.” he said gruffly.

Cole clicked off the radio, obeying the now issued order, “Fratricide?” he asked, unsure what the word meant, “What’s going-”

Their eyes met, and even though Cole didn’t know what the word meant, he had a horrible feeling in his gut.  Reyes’ lip twitched, and he turned, looking away from Cole and continuing to run down the hall.  “I’m not your dictionary, kid, figure it out yourself.”

After watching Reyes disappear around the corner, Cole clicked on his holo-watch and began typing, dreading the coming answer.

*Fratreside?

The search engine popped up a page, correcting his spelling, telling him what was happening, making him drop the mug and burn his feet with scalding liquid, and breaking his heart all in one fell swoop.

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Frat·ri·cide
/ˈfratrəˌsīd/

1. the killing of one's brother or sister.

Hanzo had attacked Genji.  He tried to kill his own brother.  And if Blackwatch didn’t make it in time, he would succeed.

Now Cole understood that look in Reyes’ eyes.  It was an apology.  Sympathy for the coming blow, an understanding that this could have, no, should have been stopped but politics and internal conflicts had damned both men.

Because it was clear that Hanzo hadn’t been able to tread water any longer, not with the weight of his family trying to drag him and Genji down into the deep blue.  Blackwatch hadn’t been able to save him.  They hadn’t even tried.

They had turned their backs on him as Hanzo sank under the rising waters, intentionally or not dragging his own brother out of the lifeboat he was climbing into as he choked on the salt-filled water of familial expectations, belittling, and molding.

The heavy generational weight around his ankles, the rough currents of his family’s traditions and hopes for him, the freezing waves of his own self-loathing, the pouring rain of grief and added pressure from his father’s death hastening the rising waters, being left gasping for air, struggling alone as time and time again he was let down or abandoned by the people he claimed to love… and they had refused to toss him a lifeline, just to buy him a bit more time until there was “room in the lifeboat” because he was stronger .  

But did being stronger matter when you had to carry a far heavier weight on your shoulders than you were supposed to?  What did stronger matter when wave after wave was trying to drag you under?  What did stronger matter except for being an excuse to yet again ignore and leave him behind for the wolves he called family?

No wonder he had snapped.  

Genji had been unlucky enough to be caught in the crossfire, having met him in the early hours.  Had he done or said something that set Hanzo off?  Or had Hanzo already been too frayed to save by that point? Would they ever know?  Or would no one else think to care?

Cole worried and wondered what had caused the elder brother to hurt the brother that he had been protecting from his family and knew that he was not going to get any sleep tonight.  Whatever it was, purposeful, accidental, vengeful, miserable, it reeked of desperation.

It was the first time that Cole realized that while he worked with people who called themselves heroes, he wondered how many they went against deserved to be called villains, to be seen as devils, but it certainly wouldn’t be the last.  

Because they had all just watched Hanzo drown before their eyes, be seen as unjustifiable to every party, and then labeled an unsalvageable monster because he had succumbed to his struggles faster than their timeline allowed, the poor man caught between the devil and the deep blue sea.