#no shimadacest in this story but since it's mentioned in the ask I'll tag it for the people who block it

[frozenbound]

I'm the person who asked about your tumblr so glad to see asks open for requests! I absolutely adored that shimadacest fic of yours, I also saw a fic recently where jesse has the hots for hanzo but hates him they eventually fuck and it's written as fairly tender/smut with feelings at the end. I'm not sure if that was you or anyone else but I am always and I mean always in need of more yeehan smut. So my request is assless chaps, hanzo in a cowboy hat fukin.

Thank you so much for your kind words! The hate-to-tender-fuck fic isn’t mine, but it’s a great story! I tend to want to skip straight to the tender fucking. I have no patience for hate between two handsome men, haha!

Thank you so much for the request!! I’m super excited to write it! YeeHan Cowboy Hanzo coming right up, under the Read More!

“What are you wearing?!” Genji demanded, rocketing to his feet off of Hanzo’s bed. Hanzo shook his head as he closed the bathroom door behind him and walked…the hairs rising on the back of his neck from the noise the jingling spurs made, so antithetical to the silent steps he had taken since he was four…to the full-length mirror beside his wardrobe.

He stopped in front of it and considered himself: front on, in profile, and looking over his shoulder.

He looked really good as a cowboy.

Genji came bouncing up behind him, staring. “No way. No way. Who are you? What have you done with my brother?”

“If you’re allowed to make extravagant purchases every day,” Hanzo retorted, still looking himself over, “then I’m allowed to make at least one.”

“Extravagant?! Is that what you call this?”

“What would you call it?”

“Insane!”

Well, Hanzo conceded internally as he turned back to face the mirror full-on, Genji might be right.

A dark brown cowboy hat, a blue-green plaid button-up shirt, tight-fitting jeans, chaps, and cowboy boots, complete with spurs, were an insane impulse purchase after discovering that Seven Samurai had an American rip-off called The Magnificent Seven…a rip-off that was actually, surprisingly good.

But, as Hanzo raised a hand to his chin and stroked his new beard and goatee, which he had grown recently and now coincidentally looked like the finishing touches on this new look, the impulse had paid dividends.

He looked good.

He looked really good.

He would never, ever, ever wear this in public, but he looked really good as a cowboy.

“I can’t believe,” Genji said slowly after a brief silent period while they both stared at Hanzo’s outfit, “that you even got the assless chaps.”

Hanzo rolled his eyes. “All chaps are assless, Genji. You remember how in English ‘trousers’ and ‘jeans’ are plural? It’s because they started out like this.” He unbuckled the belt holding the chaps together and took them off, showing Genji the shaped leather was in two distinct pieces that covered the outer parts of his legs, but not only didn’t join up at the crotch but were also open in the interior.

Genji whistled. “Huh. You learn something new every day.”

“Indeed,” Hanzo replied, buckling the chaps back on and turning back to the mirror to feed his growing admiration of himself. “Do it and I’ll break it in half.”

“Brother!” Genji whined, cellphone in hand. “You gotta let me!”

“I will break it, Genji.”

Genji put it back in his pocket, grumbling, but Hanzo had no pity for him. This had been an impulse buy, a gift of sorts, but to himself, and himself alone.

Nobody would ever see him like this. Ever.

“Ever” turned out to mean “For twelve years”.

When Hanzo and Genji walked down the exit ramp of the transport to meet the small crowd of Overwatch agents that had gathered to greet them, Hanzo only had eyes for the giant gorilla who was leading this insane escapade of a second Overwatch, and when he got over him, there were plenty of other characters to distract him, ranging from the bubbly British agent to the Brazilian guerrilla DJ to the Korean streamer-slash-war heroine.

Then there was Genji nudging him familiarly and catching Hanzo’s eye and grinning, his teeth flashing white in his dark, scarred face, and the fact that Genji was here and alive and welcoming him into his circle of friends and comrades took Hanzo’s breath away and he could only look uncomprehendingly at his brother for a few uncomfortable seconds.

Then Genji motioned again, stronger and more insistent, and obligated Hanzo to look at a…at a…

At a cowboy.

With a cowboy hat, red and yellow plaid button-up shirt, tight-fitting jeans, chaps, and cowboy boots, complete with jingling spurs.

Hanzo stared.

He even had the cloak over his shoulders. What was it called? Not a poncho, it was a…

The cowboy looked back mildly, with a trace of unfriendly wariness at Hanzo’s scrutiny and silence.

“Howdy,” he said at last, when Hanzo failed to say anything, and Hanzo nearly closed his eyes.

He even sounded like a cowboy.

But he managed to return the greeting with a minimum of nervousness under Genji’s gleeful eye, and the cowboy introduced himself as Cole Cassidy and left it at that.

But things didn’t stay like that.

No, over the next weeks and months, the cowboy revealed himself to be an astute, thoughtful, charismatic, and capable leader. 

He turned out to be an excellent shot.

He had a varied and eventful and unlikely background, with an undercurrent of a search for redemption running throughout.

He was gay. Completely and thoroughly gay, and after a few months, when he discovered that Hanzo was a sharp, observant, poised, and skilled agent who was an incredible shot with a mixed and weighty and strange background that had ultimately led to a search for redemption…

Well, it turned out they had a lot in common.

So it was no surprise when they started fucking.

It was a surprise that it didn’t take at least a little alcohol to get them started, but Cassidy made sure to proposition Hanzo in the afternoon that first time, not in the evening after they had both indulged in some whiskey and sake.

Maybe he simply found him irresistible when they were shirtless and sweaty and alone in the Watchpoint’s gym.

At any rate, they ended up running up to Cassidy’s quarters, and Hanzo managed to surprise Cassidy by pushing the cowboy to sit on his bed while Hanzo dropped to his knees.

“And here I thought I was taking the initiative,” he drawled as Hanzo tugged down his workout shorts to reveal his erection, the head shiny with precum.

“You did,” Hanzo replied, “but I’ll take over from here.”

The cowboy opened his mouth to retort, but only a groan came out as Hanzo engulfed him in the moist heat of his mouth.

Hanzo was pleased to find that the cowboy was a complete gentleman. There had been times when his partner had enjoyed Hanzo’s lips and mouth and tongue and then immediately dropped off to sleep or simply left as soon as they exploded down his throat, but not Cassidy. After Hanzo had swallowed, Cassidy took a few minutes to catch his breath, gently stroking Hanzo’s cheek with a thumb and gazing affectionately down at him, but then he lifted Hanzo onto the bed and returned the favor with gusto, milking Hanzo dry with the best blowjob he’d gotten in years.

Things progressed and meandered at a gentle, languid pace after that, the two men cautiously yet resolutely exploring this new relationship of theirs. Their encounters were restricted to blowjobs and sloppy makeout sessions for a few weeks more, until Hanzo realized that while the physical contact and physical release were welcome, a certain bloom of warmth began to swell in his chest whenever he saw Cassidy, and he fancied that he could see something similar welling up in the cowboy’s eyes and face whenever they met, and it stayed there as he watched Hanzo’s head bob up and down in his lap or when he stared up at Hanzo as he licked up and down his straining length.

“I think,” he said slowly one golden afternoon, his metallic fingers tracing the lines of Hanzo’s dragon as Hanzo cuddled him to his chest, “that I’d like for you to call me Cole.”

Hanzo blinked, swallowed, then ventured, “In what capacity, exactly?”

“In the capacity of my, uh…” Cole said, trailing off, then setting his jaw and looking up at him. “As my boyfriend.”

To his visible relief, Hanzo smiled. “I’d like that very much, Cole.”

Genji screeched when he found out later that day.

“I knew it! I knew it!” he crowed, pounding a metal hand painfully on Hanzo’s back. Hanzo absorbed it stoically. “I knew you had a thing for cowboys! C’mon, we gotta get down to the evidence lockers and see if it’s all still there.”

“If what is still there?” asked Hanzo, bewildered by this completely unexpected turn.

Genji grinned, and while Hanzo was thankful he was getting used to the sight, he couldn’t help worrying at the implications. “If the evidence we seized when Blackwatch raided Shimada Castle is still there.”

Hanzo felt the blood drain out of his face. “Evidence?”

“Yes, brother,” Genji replied with a gleam in his eye. “Evidence.”

And that was why, hours later, Hanzo sent a text to Cole. 

“Come to my quarters. We need to celebrate.”

Cole came, and knocked on the door, which slid aside to admit him into the dark interior, lit only by a few candles.

“Hanzo?” he asked, sounding as though he rather liked where this was going as he stepped inside and let the door close behind him. “Where are you?”

Hanzo pushed the bathroom door open.

Cole stared.

“Howdy,” Hanzo said at last, when Cole failed to say anything, and Cole closed his eyes.

“Tell me,” he said, opening his eyes and letting a grin slowly spread across his face to rob his words of any seriousness, “that I’m not just your fetish.”

“You are not,” Hanzo said, smiling back as he stepped into the room with a jingle, forcing an involuntary chuckle out of Cole as he glanced down at the spurs. “When I was younger, I…happened to see and enjoy an Old West film, and I liked the aesthetics enough to want to have some of them. It’s not a sexual thing, but, ah…now…I thought it might come as a welcome surprise.”

“It sure did. It sure is,” Cole said, laughing again in wonderment as he came forward and took Hanzo by the shoulders and looked him up and down. “Look at you! You’re picture perfect. You look like you’re ready to mount that bull and ride him all the way to Santa Fe and back.”

“Well,” Hanzo said, reddening. “I thought…though it isn’t a sexual thing…I thought perhaps…we could…that I could…” he trailed off.

Cole’s grin widened, though it disappeared for a moment as he licked his lips. “That we could ride?” he finished, his eyes alight with hope.

Hanzo nodded.

Cole leaned in close. “Yeehaw,” he murmured, then he ducked under the brim of Hanzo’s hat and pressed a kiss to his lips. “You, uh…you want me all dolled up, too?”

Hanzo licked his lips and nodded.

Cole looked radiant. “You into assless chaps at all?”

“All chaps are…”

“Oh, darling!” Cole interrupted, hugging him close and nearly bumping Hanzo’s hat right off his head. “You’re turning into my sun and stars, you know that?”

Hanzo mumbled something into Cole’s chest, but even he didn’t know what it was.

Cole rapidly went back to his quarters and returned so quickly he was breathing hard when he knocked on Hanzo’s door to be readmitted. Despite being out of breath, he did his best to saunter in, his own spurs jingling, and even twirling on the spot under Hanzo’s heated and openly admiring gaze. “Look who’s here,” he said smugly. 

“I’m looking,” Hanzo replied, pushing off the wall he had deliberately posed against. “I see a wild stallion in need of being tamed.”

“Oh, really?” Cole said, reaching up to pull the brim of his hat low over one eye. “And you think you’re the one who’s gonna do it?”

“Clearly,” Hanzo said as he stepped up to him and looked up, their brims brushing against each other.

“You’re awfully sure of yourself, partner.”

“With good reason.”

And Hanzo took Cole’s jaw gently in hand and guided him down to his lips, immediately licking into his mouth before parting and looking into Cole’s rather dazed eyes.

“You got a, uh,” the cowboy said slowly, his eyes flicking between Hanzo’s eyes and Hanzo’s lips. “You got a gentler touch than I was expecting.”

“Gentle or rough, I’ll get the job done,” Hanzo purred. “Perhaps the wild stallion might even come willingly.”

“Oh, he sure will, when he sees what you got to offer,” Cole replied fervently.

“Good. Then first, the stallion can lose these.”

And Hanzo swiftly unbuttoned and unzipped Cole’s jeans.

“Tit for tat, cowboy,” Cole said, a little breathlessly.

“If you insist,” Hanzo breathed back as he tugged Cole’s jeans over his thick thighs to pool around his boots. Hanzo had the presence of mind to pull off his boots first before he unbuttoned and shucked off his own jeans, and he laughed as Cole awkwardly tried to shove off his jeans and boots while keeping his eyes glued to Hanzo, managing to tangle the jeans into his spurs before finally kicking the whole mess off.

Then the two of them stalked around each other in the middle of the room, hungrily devouring the sight of the other’s bare ass flexing, round and muscular and framed by the dark leather of the chaps.

Then Hanzo began to slowly unbutton his shirt and Cole’s lips parted as he drank in the sight, Hanzo’s abs and pecs and the swirling lines of his tattoo coming into sight as he shrugged off and dropped the shirt to the floor. 

Hanzo winked and slid his fingertips along the brim of his hat. “The hat and chaps stay on.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, darling,” Cole replied, his weeping cock bouncing.

“I would,” Hanzo said stepping forward and taking hold of the hem of Cole’s shirt. “I want this off.”

“Go right ahead.”

“Very well,” Hanzo said, stepping a little closer and swishing his erection back and forth. Since he was shorter than Cole, his cock brushed over Cole’s hairy ballsack, leaving a trail of precum.

All of Hanzo’s attention, however, was on the vista of Cole’s dark skin and darker body hair coming into view as he pulled the concealing, offending fabric of his shirt away, rising and falling under Cole’s heavy, aroused breathing. When he finally had it all unbuttoned, he stepped even closer to push it off his arms, which had the extra effect of pushing his cock past Cole’s balls and into the tight junction of Cole’s thighs, rubbing against his perineum and eliciting a sigh from the taller man.

“Feels good when you touch me there,” Cole said over the soft sound of his shirt falling to the flood, leaving his muscular biceps on full display.

“Does it?” Hanzo asked as he cupped Cole’s balls with his hand and stepped still closer, forcing his cock further between Cole’s legs and along his perineum.

Cole shuddered. “Surprisingly good,” he admitted.

“For me as well,” Hanzo said, wrapping his free arm around Cole’s waist and grabbing a fistful of his ass while simultaneously pulling Cole until they were pressing flush together, with Hanzo’s cock pressing through Cole’s legs and into the softer region of his asscheeks. Hanzo had to tilt his head up to keep his hat from bumping into Cole’s face, which suited him just fine. Cole’s face was red and slightly sweaty, his eyes dark with arousal, his lips full and parted, and his cowboy hat made the perfect background.

“God, you look so handsome in that hat,” Cole whispered, echoing Hanzo’s thoughts. “Never thought I’d find another cowboy so far from the cattle ranches back home.”

Hanzo smiled. “Clothes don’t make the man, Cole.”

“Nah, but now I’ve got to get you back there,” Cole said, starting to run his big, rough hands up and down Hanzo’s sides, feeling the soft skin and hard muscle. “Gonna get you up on a horse, and then we’re gonna gallop all over the countryside together. Gonna teach you how to lasso a calf. Gonna see how long you can stay on a bull.”

“Real or mechanical?” Hanzo asked, flushing under the open, yearning look in Cole’s eyes and under the touch of his hands wandering from his sides to his chest.

“Oh, you’ll graduate from the mechanical to the real thing in no time,” Cole said, sounding entirely convinced. “You’re gonna be winning blue ribbons in barrel racing and bull riding and calf roping in no time.”

Hanzo smiled indulgently. Cole was talking complete nonsense.

The thought of Hanzo on a horse, lasso overhead, chasing down cattle…

…

…well, actually…

…no, it was absurd.

However…

“If you were there,” he said slowly, imagining Cole alongside him on his own horse, whooping and hollering, egging him on, and cheering when Hanzo effortlessly looped a lasso right around a steer’s head, “if you were there, I just might be able to do anything.”

“They got team roping, too, darling,” Cole said with a grin. “Two people gotta rope a steer together. We’d break records, I’m sure of it.”

“Me, too,” said Hanzo softly. “Me, too.”

And he tilted his head back a little more invitingly, and Cole leaned down and kissed him, and it was like something out of a dream that had started out bizarre and nonsensical but had slowly morphed into something more.

Cole licked into his mouth and the dream got even better as Hanzo responded in kind, subconsciously thrusting his hips and making them both moan at the feel of his cock rubbing between Cole’s legs.

When they broke apart, they took a moment to take in the sight of each other’s shiny, wet lips before Cole whispered, “I think it’s time we ride.”

Hanzo’s body burned with desire and he began pushing Cole towards his bed.

“Whoa there, partner!” he said, chuckling at his impatience. “We haven’t rightly…I mean, do you want to…”

Then he yelped when Hanzo roughly shoved him down onto the bed and was instantly upon him, straddling his hips and looking down into his surprised face. Hanzo slowly took in the beautiful sight of the cowboy laid out beneath him, his thick legs covered in leather chaps, his erection standing tall between the leather, his defined, muscular torso bare but for his thick body hair, and his hat, lying upside down above his head, pushed off by his falling on the bed.

He leaned over to snatch the waiting bottle of lube off his bedside cabinet and watched Cole’s face darken with lust as he squirted a healthy amount onto his fingers and reached behind himself, his slick fingers probing toward his entrance. He sighed when his rough fingertips grazed over the sensitive ring, then sighed again, louder and indulgently, when he pushed in, sticking in an entire thick digit because he was impatient and he wanted to be bouncing on Cole’s dick right then and there.

Then he felt Cole’s hands on his hips, over his own chaps, steadying him as he murmured, “Easy, darling, easy. I’m not going anywhere. You get yourself nice and ready, alright? I want you to feel good. Real good.”

Hanzo took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, then smiled down at him. “I have been anticipating this for some time.”

“You’ve been anticipating dressing up as a cowboy to seduce the one other cowboy on the Watchpoint?” he replied with a wink.

“Yes,” Hanzo said with a smirk and a shake of his head, looking down at his own legs encased in the loose leather of his own chaps. “Precisely.”

“You sure this ain’t a fetish?”

“Are you?” Hanzo shot back.

Cole grinned triumphantly. “Sure it’s my fetish. I didn’t grow up on a ranch, I was a farmboy. I used to wait all year for the rodeo just to see all them cowboys strutting around in their assless chaps. I didn’t get my first cowboy duds until after my first heist. They were my reward to myself for pulling it off. I was hard as a rock when I first put everything on and looked at myself in the mirror. Jacked off and came all over myself. Almost stained that brand new hat.”

Hanzo stared down at him, idly continuing to finger himself open as he digested this information. 

“Then you’re telling me I shouldn’t aim for your face when I cum?” he asked, glancing at the hat resting on the sheets just above Cole’s head.

Cole burst out laughing. “Just try not to get the hat, darling. If you can manage that, I think I’d look mighty fine covered with your cum.”

Hanzo sucked in a breath at the mental picture.

He was going to make it happen.

He scissored and spread his fingers, stretching himself out until he was working three fingers in and out with ease.

He was ready.

He shuffled forward on his knees and took Cole’s erection in hand, stroking it gently as he covered it in lube. 

Then he shuffled a little further forward, rose up, maneuvered himself into position, then looked Cole in the eye.

“Yeehaw.”

And he sank down onto Cole, breathing out as his blunt cockhead pressed against his entrance, then popped inside.

Cole groaned, his fingertips digging into Hanzo’s hips, but he didn’t hurry him on. He waited patiently for Hanzo to get used to his thickness and length and slide down a little further, then pause, then slide down, until soon Hanzo’s ballsack draped over Cole’s pubes, and Cole’s cock was fully sheathed in Hanzo.

They were both breathing heavily, and sweat dripped down Hanzo’s skin, trailing down his forehead and chest and stomach as he shifted in place, feeling his body stretch and relax in order to accommodate Cole, his own cock leaking like a sieve. 

Just when he was nearly ready, he felt Cole take his cock in hand at the base, his fingers not quite touching around his girth, and he gently pumped him a couple of times.

“You feel incredible,” Cole whispered reverently.

Hanzo smiled as the last of his body’s resistance melted away, leaving nothing but the pleasant buzz of fullness. “You ain’t seen nothing yet,” he replied, mimicking Cole’s accent. “And now, stallion, we ride.”

He closed his eyes and pictured himself on horseback, going at an easy pace, and began working himself up and down on Cole’s cock as though he were bouncing lightly in his imagined saddle, getting speared quickly yet shallowly.

“Wow,” Cole breathed.

Without breaking his rhythm, Hanzo opened his eyes and reached up to tip his hat. “How’s the pace, wild stallion? Should we kick up into an easy trot?”

Cole’s eyes shone with erotic amusement. “You tell me, cowboy. You’re in charge. You’re riding me.”

Hanzo grinned and did indeed pick up the pace, but imagining a fast trot instead of an easy one, and Cole actually went a little cross-eyed at the feel of his cock sliding further out of and deeper into Hanzo’s heat, the two of them bouncing on the mattress. 

Hanzo, on the other hand, was enjoying the glide and the fullness of the cock rubbing so deliciously against his innards, but the feel of the chaps, so loose and soft around his legs yet leaving his cock free to jump and wobble with each movement, was a novelty that he found he greatly enjoyed.

Then he leaned over and Cole smiled up at him and puckered his lips slightly, expecting a kiss.

Then Hanzo broke into a “gallop”.

Cole gasped and gaped up at him as Hanzo jackhammered his hips up and down, leaning forward with a savage grin as though he was tearing across the prairie at full sprint on his “horse”.

Despite the concentration it required to keep up the brutal pace, he couldn’t fail to notice the strange feeling that started to build up in his groin. His dick, though untouched, was tingling at both the head and at its base…no, not at the base, within him, the two sensations spreading out to engulf the length of his dick and then his entire pelvis. What was…?

Then, with a surge of exhilaration in his chest, he realized he was slamming Cole’s cock into himself so fast and hard that he was going to come untouched.

Buoyed by the revelation, he snatched his cowboy hat off his head and waved madly above his head.

“Fuck!” Cole gasped, his eyes wide at the sight. “Fuck! Fuck! Darling! Ride me! Ride me! I’m gonna! I’m gonna! Yes!”

“Yes!” was all Hanzo could reply before he threw his head back and yelled wordlessly.

Cum exploded into him and out of him in the same instant as Hanzo and Cole were simultaneously rocked by their orgasms.

“Darling! Sugar! Oh! Honey! I’m! Oh! Darling!” Cole blabbered as he tried to thrust up into Hanzo as deep as he could go.

Hanzo had no words. He just let out meaningless grunts and half-formed, guttural noises as he sprayed cum everywhere, onto Cole’s hairy belly and chest, onto Cole’s face and beard, on the sheets surrounding them, everywhere.

Then, the strength of his body taken up entirely by the strength of his orgasm, he dropped his hat off to one side and slumped forward onto Cole’s torso, smearing himself with his own cum and trapping his own cock between their bodies.

He lay there, eyes wide open yet unseeing, as Cole shuddered and panted underneath him, pumping cum deep, deep into him as his cock continued spurting, forcing semen between them as they lay pressed together, skin-to-skin.

Slowly, slowly, their orgasms subsided, leaving them drained, exhausted, euphoric.

Cole was the first to regain his senses, and he wrapped his arms, warm flesh and cold metal, around Hanzo. “My god,” he murmured, sweeping his hands up and down Hanzo’s sweaty back. “My god.”

“Mmm…?” hummed Hanzo, Cole’s word rousing him out of a pleasant, heady mindfog. 

“You have no idea,” Cole said quietly and adoringly, “how good you looked up there, waving your hat around like that. My god, Hanzo. You just about killed me, you looked so good. Like sex personified.”

Hanzo smiled and kissed the skin beneath him. “And you, stretched out beneath me and so far inside of me. I have never cum handsfree like that in my life. Never. You felt exquisite, and looked even better.”

“Aw, shucks,” Cole said, half jokingly, half bashfully. 

“I fear,” Hanzo said, after a few minutes of comfortable, silent afterglow, “that I may have gotten your hat after all.”

“Nope, not a drop, darling. See?”

Hanzo looked up, and Cole was holding his hat aloft to show that it was untouched, but Hanzo hardly saw it.

Instead he saw just how much of his semen had splashed over and still clung to Cole’s face, a fat white drop hanging off his beard just below the faint scar that ran across his lips.

Hanzo reached up, caught Cole’s hat out of his fingers, and plunked it on his head.

He scrutinized the resulting tableau, Cole’s handsome face framed by the wide brim of his hat, and covered with Hanzo’s cum.

He hadn’t been lying before when he said cowboys weren’t his fetish…but it would truly be a lie now.