bakerstreet | the morning after meme

[Open to everything]

Waking up late in the late afternoon was a common occurrence for Thor, although, he couldn't say the same about the body still fast asleep beside him. But given their night, and the fact even that Thor was tired out, he didn't blame John for sleeping far past his usual early mornings. Thor found it somewhat amusing while he drew his thick fingers lightly over John's bare shoulders and back. Still, he wouldn't wake him, not so quickly anyway, just enough to get him stirring underneath the afternoon light pouring through the bedchamber.

He rolled out of bed and all but left John with a single note just beside him, instructing him to meet Thor at the royal baths when he finally woke. It wouldn't be long, he figured, and Thor drew a warm bath for them both, the tub large enough to fit several others easily.

He casually kicked his towel away after loosening it from his waist and ran a hand through his tousled hair before stepping into the bath, groaning deeply as he submerged his body into the warm, lapping water. The sound of a door opening gave him pause, even brought a slow forming smile to his face.

"You took long enough." He called from where he sat in the large tub, eyes shut and lips still smirking.

Normally John was such an early riser. Up with the sun and stretching. Often his lover did not wake to see him stretch. And the mornings he did... Well it wasn't bad. Enthusiastic in fact. So for John to sleep so late, well into the afternoon, meant that their activities the night before had been... Exuberant.

He stirred slightly when the bed shifted. But after a moment, there was no returning of the other. John forced himself awake and rubbed his face. He sat up, noticing the note straight away. He smiled and then got out of bed.

"You don't make it easy for someone to stay away." He teased before crossing the room to stand at the edge of the bath, "Are you planning on keeping me up all night again?"

He peaked out of one eye as the mortal man approached. "I have no other plans," he answered in a matter-of-fact manner, that smile of his growing into something terrible, his mind filling with equally terrible and sinful things.

"Unless you had somewhere to be..." Standing up to expose his soaked and utterly naked form, Thor moved toward the edge of the bath where John stood. "Then I suppose I could consider letting you rest." He looked up through golden-blond brows, regarding his boyfriend with a dark and lustful gaze.

John looked at him, studying him. It was amazing Thor was his. No one else's. He smiled and touched his thigh, trailing his fingers up. "Mmm, no. No where to be." He answered.

"Well, unless you count sitting prettily on your fat cock somewhere to be." He said, a wicked smirk coming in his face.

Stormy blue eyes flicked down to the brushing fingers and back up to face, leaning down to kiss the man's lips sweetly. It eventually - or rather quickly - grew into a much deeper, fiercer kiss that would send the smaller man reeling.

"Oh, it counts. But first..." There was the matter of his robe. Thor undid it slowly, his eyes marveling at the flesh that was being exposed to him yet again, and trailed his fingers down John's chest and abdomen. "Beautiful."

The kisses always sent his head spinning and him begging. But John loved it. The sensation, the pure need from his lover. He smiled and nipped at Thor's lips as he pulled away.

"I forgot to bring condoms with me..." Whenever John returned to Earth for a short period, he often got things they both liked and couldn't get in Asgard. But when those fingers deftly untied the robe, his face heated. "I am far from beautiful."

That last remark had him stopping, thumb just brushing over John's navel and his eyes looking at him intently. "Don't take it personally if I take my word over yours." Thor leaned down, again, and kissed at John's heated face, lips still tingling from being bitten before, and shoved off that robe, leaving his lover bare in all his nakedness.

"You are beyond beautiful, every inch of you, understand?" The words uttered gently as he lowered more and more, soft kisses down his body. "Mine. And beautiful." The thunderer stopped just shy of the curly pubic hair and smirked up at John. "As for the condoms, are you certain you want to go back for them? You only just got here."

He only seemed to flush harder at that. Thor had a unique way of making his knees weak, but also showering him in love and affection. "Keep this up, I may start to believe you."

"No..." he breathed. John stared down at Thor, heart pounding in his chest. Oh his lover. His glorious lover. "I want to feel your fat cock buried in me without barriers."

Thor's hands, rough and calloused by battle, slide up and down the other man's thighs, his lips brushing over John's cock, pinching gently at the foreskin covering his tip and tugging. "Speaking of fat cocks," he muttered distractedly, hands now grasping John's ass.

John deserved every affection the doting Thor gave him and more. Never before has his love for anyone been so certain that his heart turned in somersaults each time they reunite after time passed, or painfully ached because of the distance.

His facial hair is a rough contrast to the soft lips that continue to brush and tease John's genitals, mouth sucking and licking at his groin as rougher hands spread his cheeks apart.

He can't help the small noises that come from him. The nearly silent gasps and pleads. Thor had a way of making him squirm. Of making his mind only think of pleasure. John swallowed and he shifted a bit. Those hands on him... He whined. He couldn't help it.

He hated it when they were apart, but he loved the reunion bits. Of seeing Thor's face when he returned to Asgard.

Another cry escaped him when that mouth descended. Oh oh. He gripped Thor's shoulders. "Please..." he begged, but he wasn't quite sure what he was begging for. His mind was spiralling off.

Thor worked and licked John's cock until it had grown nice and hard for him, those little noises and cry all the encouragement and reward he needed. Sucking lightly at the man's tip if only to hear more of those blessed noises he loved so much.

"'Please' what?" Thor questioned as he raised up again, mouth latching onto a nub on John's chest, tongue flicking excitedly across it back and forth, sucking harder and harder. Though, regardless of having asked the question, Thor didn't intend to make it any easier for John to answer as he was now nipping his way up and down John's chest and belly, hands still spreading him open and now teasing his tight pucker.

He gasped and pushed his hips forward. Towards that mouth. That so talented mouth. Thor could drive him wild. But it was mutual. Everything was. He closed his eyes, letting himself fall into the feelings, the sensations.

He was about to answer, but his mind became distracted elsewhere. Oh god. John shuddered and tightened his hand before loosening it. He took a deep breath, to try and calm, steady, himself. "May I ride your cock?" He wasn't sure how he got the words out. But he did.

(Are you okay with a 5? It doesn't have to be shippy, just bffs who over drank during a Halloween Bash or something!)

[ what if bffs who are also friendly exes/friends with benefits? ]

( Hecks to the yes please. I'm down! )

[ I love the idea of McCree and Mercy being friendly exes/fwb - do you want to write the stater? ]

(Same ;w; They have such a cute dynamic and even if they broke up they'd still be super close. Sure I can!)

*Between the both of them, strolls down memory lane was a touchy subject but one they indulged in whenever in one another's company. They have history, they know one another, heck, they're the same age. He was there for her when the Swiss HQ blew up, welcoming her back to the States to get away from memories of the Golden Days.

After about a half bottle of Whiskey, there is a bit of an awkward memory block from drunkeness. All she knows is she's waking up in his bed with her head tucked under his arm, groaning while her arm hangs off the bed and fumbles for her tic-tac shooter of a gun to silence the buzzing of his alarm.*

Make it stop...

[ All with a flicker behind her eyes in the lowlight of the barracks she half-said it without a single word. I'm curled up in a ball because I'm hurting. What do I have to do - bleed out, Jesse? The hardest gunslinger crumbled under that look within an instant. Yielding in guilt and just the comforting knowledge that for all his shit - he still had Angela.

They did stupid, emotionally-charged shit when they were still green and young. While they parted ways and grew apart the two of them were still thick as thieves even when all affection was only friendly. Reunions between friends these days was all they could cling to. In all honesty. ]

Nah, I got it.

[ His prosthetic arm came around her and slapped down on the alarm to shut the damned thing off. Jesse curled around her, his oldest friend, between the sheets - pressing his unshaven jaw between her shoulder blades. Some relief from the rising sun. His arms around her again. ]

's All good, angel. [ That had been his name for her, since they were barely grown. ]

*With the events of Recall, it had taken a bit of a toll on them Old memories had to be brought up and she usually found herself going to him to talk about them since they experienced the foundation crumble at the hands of their two Superiors.

The whiskey sure helped that night though.*

Danke. [Came a murmur from burrowed close against his body, enjoying her place for the comfort and warmth he provided.

Wrestling with the few last shreds of decent sleep, she sighed quietly and lifted her head up to peek at her scruffy. Her hair's been better, but it's at least down for once and tussled about, framing over one eye.*

That...drink was a lot harder than you used to have, Jesse.

De nada.

[ Jesse slurred, as he blinked against the blur of his own hangover. Vision blurred but thought clearing up; at least as he moved locks of blond hair away from his eyesight.

Even when he wasn't dying, Angela was a welcomed sight to his sobering mind. ]

Angel, I can get you water - or wherever ya need. [ Jesse meekly offered with a half smile. Drawing her against him in a tight embrace - for warmth, or just the physical reminder she was still here. ]

[She stole a peek down at him and gave a quiet laugh, still tired and hung over herself but at least waking in his company was a gift.

A small hand came up to brush the fringe of his hair from his face, much like he had done to her.*

No, it's alright. Everything right now is perfect as is. *Her head might of been pounding but the company is what made everything better.

Small arms encircled around him and she nudged her head along the scruff of his face she always liked.* You're too comfortable to leave me now. And nice and warm.

[ For a moment he was seventeen again; huddled in a corner with the latest recruit. In a hurried and quiet voiced he had asked; Where are your parents? Because she had seemed too young, and pretty to be here. Dead, his guardian angel said. All Jesse could say was - yeah, mine too. They had clung to each to each other since. ]

'S alright. [ He hushed as he drew her closer. Knowing he hadn't shaved in a dog's age, but not caring when his first love needed him to be strong twenty years in the making. ]

Y'all can settle now. Nothing's gonna hurt ya. [ Not while he was wrapped around his angel. ]

*Every time she was with her dear friend, time seemed to fade and that semblance of happiness and innocence was back from their youth.

There was just something about him that gave her a sense of protection and trust; something they both needed.*

I would feel bad if we stayed in bed all day together.

But, thank you. *A hand rose up and her fingers stroked over that scruffy beard of his.*

You have a wonderful talent for making me safe.

*Pulled against him, she nudged her head under his chin and peppered small thank you kisses on his throat.

[ Both hands - metal and flesh - came to encase hers as soon as she braved the tangled expanse of his scruff. Really, threading his fingers through hers, he was charmed by the attempt. Angela always did get on his ass to shave - and it was a shame he was so situationally lazy. ]

You, Angie?

[ He laughed at that. Yielding his throat like a lamb to the slaughter for every gentleness she could give. Kissing the crown of her head. ]

Anyone deserves a day? It's you.

As do you. We've both had such tiring moments that deserve the rest and tension release we can get.

*Another small kiss along his neck.* Perhaps laying like this all day wouldn't be so bad. *Another kiss with a soft bite. Oh her friend was just too handsome to not handle but with how much he meant to her, it felt nicer.*

Just let me know when you need me to leave. This is 'your' room after all.

[ Jesse held her close, tilting his neck up in response. Chuckling because in spite of himself he was the ticklish sort.

Only Angela ever seemed to exploit that. But he could play just as dirty - raking cold, metal fingers up the length of her back where he knew she used to be sensitive. ]

Haha, mi casa es tu casa.

*Any little sounds she could spur from him made her rather happy. He was a very good looking chap and all of the women, and men, of new Overwatch thought so as well.

Having him hold on to her was such a security. He's got her back and she'd do everything to make sure he returns without a scratch on him.

Her gentle kisses soon stopped when she reached his cheek and gave a soft nudge of her head to his. that was, until she felt that cold metal of his protestics touch the bare skin of her spine. Suddenly she was aware they were both kind of naked.

The idea was lost with a shudder that coursed down and she huffed and nudged herself closer to him for his body heat.*

heh heh-J-Jesse...! I almost started to shiver from that cold feel.

[ cross-canon & AUs welcome ]

[Any interest in this one? I ask because she's female and an OC! 2, 3 or 9 could be fun, maybe...]

[ Sure! I'm easy; they all sound good. Your choice. ]

Waking up with someone in her bed isn't exactly strange; waking up and not being quite sure what's happened is much more so. Garnet tries to stretch without moving too much, to yawn without making much of a sound - and tries to roll over and look properly at the other girl without waking her up.

Oh, but she's pretty, which only makes not being able to remember anything more disappointing. And Garnet - who is very, very bad at impulse control - wants, very much, to reach out and touch her. Maybe only a little touch. Maybe just smoothing her hair back from her face, or tracing the smooth line of her shoulder, or -

It doesn't take very long at all before Garnet's biting her lip and doing exactly that, even while she tells herself that maybe it's a bad idea, maybe she should let the pretty girl sleep. But her skin is so soft and warm...

It has been a very long time since Paige had woken up with a hangover. Of course it had been a while since Bull whipped out that weird Qunari alcohol. Aside from the splitting headache she was actually rather comfortable. Bull is a warm anchor that helps keep her in that comfortable stage between sleep and complete consciousnes.

She lets out sigh and buries her head into his chest, trying to block out the morning light.

[ Cross-canon y/n? ]

[characters aged 18+ please; misunderstandings also very welcome!]

Edited 2016-11-01 20:41 (UTC)

[Human AU??? :0 ]

[I can do that! how do you feel about venomines' human au?]

[I love it! Give me a few hours and I can start something after work, our you can start right away if you have an idea planned out!]

[As if it were not unusual enough for the sun-drenched, perfumey room Zenyatta calls his bedchamber to have its curtains drawn and shutters drawn, there just has to be hosting an even greater surprise: an extra occupant. In the bed.

Zenyatta awakens slowly, emerging from a deep, dreamless sleep into the nest-like warmth of tangled limbs and bare skin beneath the sheets. Short-lived though it may be, for one delicious moment there seems precious little distinction between where he ends and Genji begins, and he finds himself wondering which arm is his, whose hand on what waist. Even after it passes he's left feeling... not peaceful, exactly, true though that might be, but content. Like a purring cat.

Absently, he strokes his thumb up and down his student's waist, feeling the muscle tone beneath as his chest rises and falls with each even breath. More than anything, Zenyatta is staggered by how much trust he is being afforded. He's rarely so still or so untroubled as he is when he sleeps like this, as though all the fear and uncertainty of his waking hours falls away with the sunlight. Beautiful. Every inch of him, regardless of whether it was honed on the battlefield or the surgeon's table.

It's not enough just to feel him, though. With absolute care, Zenyatta peels the blanket down just far enough to watch Genji's face, eyes very wide and very serious. He doesn't want to miss a single second. Hopefully, the intensity of his gaze won't disturb him...]

Edited 2016-11-02 23:25 (UTC)

It's not Zenyatta's stare that stirs Genji. It's the slight prickle of cool air across his back that first stirs him, and the touch to his back actually rouses him.

Not that he actually wakes up. Instead, Genji hums and shifts, pushing his face into his pillow and simultaneously arching his back into Zenyatta's hand. He's warm and content and deliciously tangled with his bed partner. "Good morning," he mumbles into his pillow, turning his head to peek out at Zenyatta, lips curved into a smile.

There's always been something a little feline about Genji that seems all the more prominent now- maybe it's the way he stretches and flexes, muscle moving beneath the smooth surface of his skin, the little curve of his lips and his eyes, half-lidded with sleep. Almost unconciously Zenyatta strokes his hand down his spine, feeling every inch as if for the first time.

"Good morning, Genji." He's already smiling back; he's already the kind of person who smiles often, but there's just something different in it when Genji's around. He's like giggling during meditation or morning prayer. Infectious. "You are lying on my leg."

He doesn't sound particularly concerned.

"Sorry," Genji says, shifting to free Zenyatta's trapped leg. In exchange, he leans forward and presses a kiss to Zenyatta's lips, curling his closer arm around Zenyatta's as well.

He turns into his side, dragging the blankets up higher around them both. "How are you feeling?" He trails his fingers up and down Zenyatta's side, relishing the warmth of his skin, the sunniness of his smile.

Zenyatta is his light, a beacon in his life until so recently dark. This feels good. Right, where so much was wrong.

Affection comes as easily as words between them, and Zenyatta returns the kiss with soft lips and a nuzzle against his cheek, shivering obligingly into Genji's touch.

"Good. Wonderful, even." But they still can't lie close enough for his liking, even like this. After a moment's thought, he gives a fluid little wriggle- and suddenly he's on top of Genji, straddling his hips and pinning him with his arms and chest. There's no contest between them when it comes to physical size but Zenyatta's surprisingly strong, lean and wiry against his student's muscle.

His eyelashes brush Genji's collar. The smile, quick and playful, is only too audible in his voice. "But even 'wonderful' can always be improved upon."

Genji laughs when Zenyatta rolls them so he's on top. Zenyatta's thighs frame him in against the bed, but he sweeps his hands up Zenyatta's sides and back anyways. "Improved upon... like with round two?" He leans up to kiss Zenyatta again, his right hand sliding around to Zenyatta's chest then up to cradle the back of his bald head - well, it's a bit stubbly this morning.

This time it's Zenyatta's turn to be catlike, giving a little wriggle of appreciation as hands stroke up and down his body. He can't help but laugh back, either, feeling the sound vibrate softly between them as though one were the echo of the other.

"You are incorrigible, Genji." For a moment he wonders if he might rather lay his head on the ninja's chest and just enjoy his presence- but that seems near impossible with someone like Genji beneath him. He touches a hand to his cheek, curling long, tapered fingers into his hairline and tugging on his lip with his thumb. "But... perhaps. We do not, however, want to wake the rest of the monastery."

[ zen gets robutt wasted and mccree hangover sits him? ]

[oh no that's adorable yes please!]

"Ah, Zen..." Were the first words McCree could articulate after he blinked away the heaviness of sleep behind his eyes. Rubbing exhaustion from he least knew two things: He was awake, and Zenyatta was about to be awake and just as cognizant.

Maybe now was as now as good as any to distract with simple. Jesse scrambled off the monk's lap and laughed nervously.

"Zen," He ran a metal hand through a tangle of auburn hair and laughed nervously. "You sure are a catty drinker."

Generally speaking, Zenyatta is a great fan of the unconscious mind and its potential- but never, he decides painfully, has he found the conscious mind such a relentlessly miserable place to be. It feels like his artificial neural cortex has been filled with cotton wool and sawdust and left out in the sun for a few hours. As he drags himself back to the world of the living, the lights on his brow flickering with the effort, he's only dimly aware of someone disentangling themselves and clambering free.

"Jesse...?" Without a throat or mouth to dry out he doesn't sound too bad, but his tone and body language say it all. There isn't a trace of his usual grace in the way he presses one hand to his head, as though it might actually help. It doesn't. "A catty...?"

Yes. That's right. He's somewhat fuzzy on the details, particularly towards the end of the evening, but he does distinctly remember accepting a drink. Or two. Possibly four.

Oh.

Immediately, his voice floods with uncharacteristic dread. "What did I say and to whom?"

[Maybe this would be fun to jump forward to? 1 or 6, perhaps?]

[ Open to AUs and cross-canon. ]

[ooc: Wanna?]

[ Sure! Go for it. ]

Slowly, Rey wakes. It's the sun rising that does it, creeping steadily higher and higher along the bed, warming her feet at first, legs, torso, chest, until finally it's shining directly in her eyes, and there's no ignoring it anymore no matter how hard she tries.

With a soft groan, she forces one eye open, and then the other, and although her vision is a bit bleary, she still smiles softly to see the prone form still lying next to her - still with her arm tossed across his middle. He's so handsome while he sleeps, she thinks, not that she doesn't find him handsome any other time, too. It's just - in sleep, there are no worries or stresses to weigh anyone down, and in this particular moment, Poe looks ... peaceful.

It's almost a shame to think about waking him up, too. They both have duties to attend to, and so, perhaps waking up to Rey and her soft kisses and caresses will be easier to come to terms with than a blaring alarm.

"Time to get up", she whispers, leaning in close, her lips barely brushing over his. "C'mon, Commander."

These days, it's as if they've both got the weight of the world on their shoulders. Poe can't exactly speak for Rey, of course, but he knows she must be feeling the pressure of the stresses she's going through. And yet, she's got the Force to bring her peace through meditation and other tricks. As for him... well, he tries to stay on the positive side of things. It's just the kind of guy he is. It's help made him a leader, a commander, and the great pilot that he is. But with all of their talents, they're still just two people trying to help a fledgling Resistance overpower the First Order. Two people trying to help make the universe a better place.

So it's nice to have these little moments, where a passion-filled night can make them forget everything to a while. It's nice to have each other, even though sometimes he's not quite sure why she would choose him. She's on her way to becoming a powerful Jedi, after all. But he doesn't regret this, doesn't try to push her away. He enjoys their time together away from their duties and responsibilities. That morning he is indeed sleeping in, more able to ignore the unforgiving sunlight. At first, he's too comfortable to wake up, even to the sound of that voice he loves so much.

At the feel of those lips, he begins to stir, and sleep no longer seems quite so appealing. A smile slowly pulls the corners of his lips upwards and he kisses her back sleepily, lazily. "Not awake yet," he murmurs, though it's clearly not true.

They both have a ton of responsibility resting on their shoulders - and some days are more difficult than others, especially when plans don't always come to fruition, or when sure things don't work out the way they were expected to. (The days with casualties ... those were the worst days of all, even if there was nothing to be done to avoid them. Those are the days where the responsibility is compounded by guilt, and they've both experienced their fair share.) So these moments, these blessedly sweet little moments that come so few and far between, these are the moments that she treasures the most.

Poe's so good at helping her forget, even if it's just for one night at a time. He's kind and gentle with her when she needs it, offers a distraction or an ear, or ... getting lost in each other, too, and she's grateful for everything that he does for her. She can only hope that she's able to offer the same ... even if she is currently trying to wake him up sooner than she knows he'd like to be awake.

But ... if he wakes up, they'll have a little more time before having to go their separate ways, and surely that can't be a bad thing? Her smile widens, too, as he stirs, and she happily and eagerly returns the kisses, humming softly as she does. "No? Do I have to try harder to get you up?"

[Up to you if it's Hanzo or Jesse in the shower]

[ I'm down! Do you feel like writing the starter? ]

[Sure! Do you want him to be in the shower or hear the shower?]

[ In the shower given that Hanzo is the more fastidious one ]

[To most people, Jesse seems like the kind of person who would rather sleep in til noon, who snores like a lumberjack in his sleep, who wakes up as coordinated as a drunken elephant.

Well, in order: he would rather sleep in but he'd never had the leisure, it's not snoring it's a defense mechanism, and actually when he's awake he's pretty much awake. So he manages to carefully wriggle out of bed, sitting on the edge of the bed and carefully unfastening his prosthetic, leaving it on the nightstand with the fingers curled to be pointing at the bathroom. He scrapes his fingers through his beard, yawns silently, and pads quietly into the bathroom, mostly closing the door before he turns on the light and the water, getting into the shower.

He's humming quietly to himself as he lathers up his hair, scraping his nails over his scalp and his jaw, closing his eyes and leaning back into the soothingly hot spray.]

[ Hanzo could be more readily associated with roosters than dragons given how he always seemed to be up just at the crack of dawn. With a groan, he turned into the pillows. Already awake but fighting against the inevitable until the last second. Despite all appearances to the contrary, Hanzo was also not a morning person.

There were a few good minutes Hanzo spent stretching himself out on the bed until every kink in his back was straightened out. Languishing on the sheets until it was absolutely necessary to get out of bed. With a sore grunt, he swung his legs still in their metal bracers and padded across the room.

Overwatch barracks had a shower assigned to each room. Which was of course convenient when agents sharing beds wanted to be clandestine. Hanzo threw open the glass doors and slid in without much presumably. ]

Mmhm I enjoy it when you smell clean. [ Hanzo murmured as he slid behind McCree; arms around a wider waist and chin propped on a broad, scarred shoulder. ]

[If Jesse hadn't wanted Hanzo to join him, he wouldn't have left the door cracked open for him, tbh. He practically purrs when he feels Hanzo's strong arms slide around his waist.]

Mm, all for you, Darlin'.

[It's a good thing that he had just rinsed his hair before Hanzo joined him, because he gladly pauses in his ablutions to lean over and press a kiss to Hanzo's hair.]

[ What he loved most about Jesse - if he had to single out something in particular - was his girth. Just a weak layer of fat around his middle under a healthy musculature. Hanzo loved it - really, the bit of fleshy give he could sink his fingers into. ]

You are....iimasu [ Hanzo looked over Jesse's shoulder and started to squeeze the other man's half-hard cock. ]

Morning wood?

Edited 2016-11-02 02:57 (UTC)

[Jesse had a sturdy build, healthy love handles at his waist over thick, hard muscle. Nobody had ever accused him of low self-esteem, but Hanzo's near worship went a long way to making him feel better about the fact that he was bigger and thicker now than he was when he was young.

His breath hitched when Hanzo's hand slid down to palm his half-hard cock, sending a throb of arousal down his spine.]

Gonna be more than just morning wood if you keep that up.

[ Jesse was hard; for both his well-muscled physique that was just beneath a well earned layer of fat built up over the years. A sturdy figure that could keep pace with the newer faces of Overwatch, but just soft enough that Hanzo seemed to sink into.

Hanzo had all the audacity to smile into Jesse's shoulder as he started to pump the other man's cock from its morning hardness. ]

Oh, maybe more than just the morning to keep me up.

[Jesse relaxed back against Hanzo, closing his eyes and making a contented noise almost like a purr when he felt that cheeky grin against his shoulder.

Of course, in retaliation that just means that instead of rocking his hips forward into that incredibly strong, welcoming fist, he's going to grind back against Hanzo, his hand reaching back to take hold of Hanzo's hip.]

Reckon I could help you out with that, Sugar.

[ To his credit, Hanzo was weak to such yielding affection. As soon as Jesse leaned into his touch that Hanzo nuzzled against his cheek. Running his hands up Jesse's sides to feel every inch of him.

Then Jesse had to be difficult, but to rub against him. Still, Hanzo kept stroking him up. ]

Are you - what do you call it - raring to go?

[ Basic training was over thirty years behind him and he still rose before the sunrise like clockwork. Even hungover he was alert and blinking away the sleep through the heaviness still sloshing around in his head. Jack would have had both feet on the hardwood, on the hunt for coffee and aspirin, were it not for the weight splayed across his chest. Any morning routine thrown off the rails as last night came back to haunt him; snoring peacefully with his mouth slightly open.

Ah, shit.

Jack had too much under his belt to feel contrite over an ill-considered drunken escapade. He had come to Hanamura on a job which - for once - went off without a hitch. Hanzo was the one who wanted to celebrate the last Shimada elder's demise. Jack went along with it even if by the second bottle he started to suspect Hanzo was using him as an excuse to drink. Then as an excuse to forget with a more intimate distraction. Jack knew he should have turned him down, but he made this bed.

Now he had to get out of it without waking the other guy.

Moving inch by inch out from under a sleeping Hanzo had the same stakes as maneuvering over an active minefield. To his credit, Jack was conscientious for a guy trying to skip out on a bed partner. Gently as he could, Jack half lifted Hanzo to lay him back on the bed. Moving the quilted blanket over Hanzo's bare skin before easing off the bed.

Jack had dressed as fast as anyone trying to move quickly without tripping over their own pants could. Throwing on his jacket that had been tossed on the other side of the room and reaching for his mask when something beeped. Like a man who stepped on a trip wire, Jack froze.

The alarm - he never even though about an alarm. ]

[ When drinking alone he hardly ever required an excuse, but with company it was generally frowned upon to be constantly inebriated. Although this time it was completely warranted considering the nature of this last mission. While his drinking was entirely called for, taking Jack to bed was undoubtedly a poor decision. Drunk Hanzo was a traitorous bastard.

Hanzo awoke in the first moments of being moved, but remained still. He unfortunately hadn't had enough to drink to not remember the events of the night before, and knew better than to call attention to the fact that he wasn't asleep. Dodging that awkward conversation would be an excellent outcome for everyone involved.

Genuinely impressed with how stealthy Jack was being, he nearly allowed himself to fall asleep again to the sounds of a man hauling on clothing like his life depended on it.

The alarm. If he could crush the thing with a thought he would have, but now he was in an awkward situation where pretending to sleep through that would surely give him away. With a groan he sat up and shut the thing off, hair hanging over to cover most of his face while he was hunched over. ]

Leaving so soon?

[ It was meant to be sarcastic. They had spent more time together than most could tolerate. Sure Hanzo was no ball of sunshine but Jack was about as pleasant as a cactus. The sleep in his voice may have sounded sincere, but he stood up and walked past Jack wordlessly to get to the toilet in nothing but his own skin. His bladder didn't really have time for formalities. ]

[ Neither of them planned for a morning after, Jack suspects. Between his haste and Hanzo's flippancy there was a tension between them; mutual, like they had both just gone off script. At first, it made Jack a bit curious how many times Hanzo sought more anonymous solace. Almost immediately after he had the thought he banished it. The man was a colleague now and it wasn't his place to guess.

Still - he had to do something. Besides stand there like a deer caught in the headlights of (an admittedly knock out) eighteen wheeler with a gormless look on his face. Jack straightened his shoulders and cleared his throat. ]

Coffee. I - I'll make coffee.

[ Jack ducked his head and moved Hanzo faster than a man on fire. Bare feet slapping in a hurried patter down the hardwood of the narrow hall leading out of the living quarters of the compound.

The kitchen was easy enough to find for Jack having seen it in passing all of once during that inebriated haze. They had gotten themselves sloshed in one of those rooms that overlooked the gardens; Jacks best memory of the kitchen was having Hanzo hoisted up and knocking over a plate. The shattered remains of chinaware still on the floor. He had the decency to clean that up before he started the coffee.

There he sat. Waiting for the coffee to brew while pretending this wasn't intensely awkward. ]

[ While he spent a great portion of his life watching his brother participate in similar activities, Hanzo felt that it was eerily ironic that he was unintentionally attempting to carry on his legacy--almost as though there must always be a Shimada that puts out. The thought made him cringe, but he forced it from his mind along with half of what went on the night before. It wasn't what they did that bothered him, but who he did it with.

Thankfully this sort of thing didn't happen often, and on the bright side Jack turned out to look just as nice without his clothes as he usually did in them. After a minute more of regret and a thorough brain bleaching, Hanzo finished in the bathroom and refused to make eye contact with himself in the mirror on the way out. He was in no mood to be judged.

He would rather get back in bed and cover himself in blankets until Jack left, but it would be rude and he wouldn't be able to live with himself. So reluctantly he pulled on a clean yukata rather than any of the discarded clothing on the floor and made his way out to see if he could help with the coffee.

Hanzo was seated across from Jack in silence for at least a minute before he forced himself to take the bull by the horns, an idiom he must have learned from McCree. ]

About last night... I am willing to overlook the fact that you seduced me [ A joke. ] if we can agree to never mention this again.

j[ Jack alone felt plenty bullied despite himself, Perhaps it was just that - even in the earlier days of Overwatch - he had never had anyone, No one he could ascribe to Ana or Reyes as his twenty-four seven sentinel. Rationally, he could could just guess Hanzo was dedicated to personal security. ]

We fucked. [ Jack said, mildly. As though circumstance didn't threaten their livelihoods. Instead, he just poured Hanzo a mug of black coffee. Pushing the necessities like milk and sugar as an afterthought. ]

What's this "we" shit? You had an hand in it all.

[ If Hanzo was at all shocked at Jack's choice of word he didn't show it. Truthfully that was an accurate enough conclusion to come to, all things considered. ]

Yes. [ The elephant in the room seemed to shrink in size now that they'd determined it's name. Hanzo pulled the mug of coffee toward himself and took a careful sip, ignoring milk and sugar. ]

It was not premeditated, if that is what you are getting at. [ In fact he was still sore, but he wouldn't hold that against Jack. He couldn't hold much against him since he was guilty of initiating. He made the offer, and Jack just went along for the ride. ]

You were not bad. If you were wondering.[ He took another sip and kept his eyes on Jack as if looking for a point of weakness to exploit. Genuinely he had no idea what to say about any of this, and depended on the other man to give some sort of sign that it didn't change anything between them. ]

[ Jack sips his coffee, leans back and thinks. When Jack was given to moments of self examination all appearances made him out to be someone who shut others out almost entirely. This was not wholly inaccurate, but not entirely true either. The last time he was with anyone is was fairly anonymous and more or less an itch that needed scratching.

The more rational part of him that could still spare an ounce of understanding for the people around him came to a conclusion that taste bitter. And it wasn't just the coffee made on a machine he barely knew what he was doing with. ]

Sorry. [ He said, more grunted into his coffee. Although the sentiment was still there. ]

I can be a real horse's ass. [ Understatement. He winced. ]

What I mean is - it was nice. For whatever that's worth coming from me. [ Jack made a career out of taking compliments and keeping up appearances. Returning the favor was a hard lesson he was still learning. ]

You, uh. [ He shifted his weight. Awkward. ] You good?

[ As far as itches getting scratched, he could say for sure that last night Jack gave him quite the scratching. It was almost enough to take away from the fact that he was a traitor to his clan, and had just played a major role in the mission to take down the last living leader of his former crime family. Thinking of it made him crave a drink, but his headache kept him from acting on it.

Coffee was fine.]

Please. Do not apologize. [ While Hanzo couldn't disagree with Jack's statement, he was not much better and therefore had no room to judge. ]

Yes, quite good. [ He stretched his arms out above his head, loosening up a little as he yawned. Nowhere near Jack's age and he still feels like his body is not the same as it used to be. While it was still good for getting the job done, he had less resiliency than maybe even half a decade ago.

Hanzo finished off his coffee and stood. He gave Jack's a pat on one side of his broad shoulders, slight grin on his face--certain ambiguity in his words.] Thank you for that. You are free to go.

I must contact Genji to update him. On the mission. [ Clarification felt necessary. ]

[ Last night was far from something Jack would call a mistake - not really. Still riding off that bone deep satisfaction intermingled with run ragged exhaustion from the pace Hanzo put him through there was no regretting it. Events leading up to tearing through the house and nearly breaking table, maybe. He could question his recklessness but not the results.

And they were both so results oriented. ]

Right. [ Jack felt his eyes wander down to Hanzo's abdomen; watching muscles flex and heave as Hanzo worked out the kinks. Maybe it was just the coffee but suddenly his mouth went bone dry. ]

You'd have an easier time of it going through official channels. [ He said it before Hanzo's touch ghosted from his shoulder and already he was questioning himself.

Jack, you idiot. ]

I should speak to him too and I can get you patched in through the Overwatch comm. I'm not trying to ride your ass. [ For a moment the only sound in the kitchen was Jack slowly setting down his coffee mug like he was defusing a bomb. ] I mean it'll be quicker.

[ While his mind was alert and oriented, his body was hesitant to keep up. Hanzo figured he must have overexerted himself during the mission, during the drinking, and most certainly with what followed--so much for moderation.

His head tilted to one side when he caught Jack looking, but moved around him to hide the smug look on his face as he placed his empty mug into the automated dishwasher. ]

Official channels? [ Of course. Jack wouldn't be Jack if he wasn't trying to get everyone to do things "the way they ought to be done." At least he didn't bring up how they went about it in his day, which unfortunately wasn't too far from Hanzo's day, so listening to it was that much more bothersome to hear. ]

If I did not know any better, I would think you were flirting with me. [ His hand slid up the front of Jack's shirt, briefly running his fingertips over the skin just below his navel to gauge the taller man's reaction.] How unprofessional.

[ Even when command no longer fell to him and his position within Overwatch was more peripheral than anything, Jack was given to micromanaging. A holdover from the golden years when his authority carried some weight and his words like his actions had meant something. Even after a night he should have never agreed to - Jack liked to have things done a certain way.

With that in mind, Jack should have known what he was getting into with Hanzo. The man raised stubbornness to an art form, and there was no telling him what to do. Not these days. Jack was convinced that if Hanzo was being agreeable it meant he simple wanted to play along. Telling him meant nothing. The man was too capricious that Jack could never help but he was being played with on the end of a string.

What really bothered him was that he couldn't say disliked it. ]

Too old to flirt. [ Jack groused even as the cool hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. ] Just laying all my cards on the table.

[ His own hand snaked up Hanzo's pressed to his navel, tracing up those mean tattoos until him reached around to hold the other man by the small of his back. ]

[ A bit of a late-bloomer where flirting was concerned, Hanzo had picked up a lot of what he knew from his brother in their early years. At the time he was rarely in the position to partake in frivolous activities as often as most, but these days he allowed himself certain pleasures.

There was also the issue of how high his standards were, but sake was good for a number of things. Not that Jack wouldn't meet those standards. He made the word handsome seem inadequate, and was too perfectly scared to be pretty. Unsurprisingly, though, Hanzo's favorite thing about him was the very same thing that irritated him--their personalities were too similar. ]

Yet not too old to be insatiable, it seems. [ As if he wasn't the one taunting the man. Hanzo's fingers dip into the waist of Jack's pants, very lightly tugging him closer.

There was something about seeing Jack this way that made it difficult not to want to push his buttons to see if he could be flustered. He had yet to accomplish that, but wouldn't be giving up on it any time soon. ] I suppose Genji can wait.

[ There were a lot of reasons Jack should have left when Hanzo had told him. Hell, there were more than few reasons he should have left after his first glass last night. All of them grounded logic difficult to argue with. Hanzo was notoriously mercurial so there was no telling what the fallout could be, for one. Not to mention what this sort of thing did in operations like this.

He could be overthinking this. Hanzo lessens the gap between them and the cool, dry skin of his knuckles brush along Jack's navel with fingers edging dangerously closer to a repeat performance.

So Jack decides he had been overthinking this, and there wasn't lot for him here to fuck up. Not a lot of people for him to hurt. Not like last time. ]

You know what you want, and I happen to find that agreeable. Or maybe just tolerable. [ Hanzo would remain disappointed in how Jack looked back at him as stolid as ever - he even smirked. Both hands smoothed around Hanzo's waist to settle on either side of his hips. ] We got all morning.

[ Hanzo knew the man was thinking about it, considering carefully, and mulling it over again. He expected no less from him. Although he wasn't quite sure why he was trying to be so persuasive, and it probably came across as uncharacteristic of him. Last night had been necessary for him, but right now he was admittedly just being greedy.

His hands went to work unbuckling Jack's belt while his head remained tilted back slightly to be able to look up at him while he unzipped him. There was a perverse curiosity there on whether or not Jack could maintain that poker face for much longer, but it didn't look like he would be budging any time soon. He would settle for the smirk. ]

I am going to need you to tolerate me just one more time, for good measure. [ As he spoke he shamelessly palmed the man's crotch through his boxer briefs, not looking away from his face, even grinning himself now.]

[ This arrangement they had stumbled into was ideal, all things considered. Jack thought about it and reasoned the two of them had little in the way of a risk for collateral damage. Maybe he needed this as much as Hanzo seemed to, but at least they weren't sticking their necks out.

Transient and infinitesimal nights with no one any the wiser. That could be an arrangement that worked for people like them. Jack could be stupid for just a little longer. After all, he was only human. ]

Good measure, huh? [ Jack didn't blush but his expression did tighten somewhat when Hanzo invited himself into Jack's pants. Just teetering on being half hard - which was impressive a man Jack's age - he was already committed to one last fling before saying as much. ]

I've still got it. [ Pressing froward, Jack moved his knee between Hanzo's legs and applied just enough pressure to get a reaction. Hands moving down to the meat of the backs of Hanzo's thighs. A firm squeeze as he started to push Hanzo towards the kitchen table. Half-pushing, half-lifting him. ]

[ Hanzo genuinely wouldn't have ever assumed Jack would be interested. The man looked like he hadn't experienced fun in decades, but truthfully he was no bag of laughs himself. Whatever this was didn't happen often for him and had been born out of a cacophony of inebriation, boredom, and the need to distract himself from his thoughts. ]

It is difficult to tell how much you enjoy something if you have only done it..... once. [ The pause in his words came from how unexpectedly far along Jack was already.

Before he could piece together another wise-ass comment, he felt heat rise to his cheeks at the knee pressing against him in just the right way. The archer swallowed, forgetting his composure somewhere along the way to being moved onto the table. ]

A-Apparently. [ His free hand slid up the back of Jack's neck to pull him in for a kiss while his legs separated to give space for Jack to stand between them. Hanzo's kiss was as demanding as it was sudden, and he was non-apologetic in the way he sought out Jack's tongue. ]

Edited (what is html) 2016-11-07 23:33 (UTC)

[ On the other side of the fence, Hanzo had a personality about as soft to the touch as steel wool from where he was standing. Not that Jack could cast judgement when he himself rarely communicated beyond grunts and monosyllabic orders. There was something ironically liberating about being in company this intimate with someone just as distant. ]

Right. [ Jack intoned with a hint of laughter that rumbled behind his flat reply.

What mattered was that Hanzo was as pliant as Jack was curious to see how close to the edge they could push each other. The slighter man was achingly hard against the press of his leg and Jack was growing impatient. There was a dull thud and before Jack could see if he threw Hanzo onto the table too hard all the air was drawn out of his lungs. Muted with the abrupt and heated kiss.

Jack could only comply as both hands raked up Hanzo's sides, deepening their kiss. Grunting in between shallow breaths as Hanzo drew him back in hard enough to break skin. Hanzo knew what he wanted, and Jack liked that kind of no-nonsense attitude. ]

Bed? [ Was the most articulate thing Jack could accomplish. Panting and groping Hanzo on the kitchen table as he was. ]

(No Wardens, please.)

[ hiii stranger, if anythign doesnt work just ignore it or go the other way with it or whatever & no sweat on length since the starter wasnt even supposed to be this long ]

[ all of kilgrave's victims have been heavily encouraged to seek counseling services, including the cops at the docks, the disbanded survivor group, and, most of all, the woman who murdered him. at his behest, the record shows. jess realizes what a weak argument that is for her own stability moments after it's left her mouth; it has the obnoxiously opposite effect. then she has to talk the 'helpful, concerned' officer down from two sessions a week to a mildly less hellish one.

they stick her with a bunch of whiners all linked by the fact that they either have superpowers or have been screwed over by them. her name's in the paper, as well as any other details she feels like sharing, and jess slouches in sullen silence for the rest of it. no food or drink can be brought in, since it's provided in the form of bagels and shitty coffee. every week, jess manages to forget how taxing it ends up being just listening to other peoples' pain. probably because of how blasted she gets afterwards. alone, typically. three out of six mandatory weeks in, her restlessness is thrashing too viciously to drown singlehandedly. without thinking much of it, and less through it, jess asks wilson (because fuck this chummy kumbaya forced first name basis thing) out for a drink once the hour long circlejerk is up.

and then, because he won't sleep with her, she gets blasted enough for two. being pissed off and throwing back an appropriate amount of liquor is the last thing she remembers before waking up on a couch that smells nothing like hers. jess shoves the heel of her palm to her eye then rakes some her mussed hair up and off her face. shifting fully onto her back disturbs what swill is left in her stomach, incurring a pitiful, self-loathing groan. after she's indulged in that, she's able to notice: the place is nice. definitely too nice. what'd you do, jones? ]

[So after everything goes down in Lagos (and Austria, and Germany, and Siberia), Sam finds himself homeless. And since Avengering has been his full-time job for a couple years, he's also unemployed. Instead of going back to DC and his job at the VA, Sam opts for New York instead, a place not too far from where he grew up in Harlem. (He hates gentrification, but as an adult, it at least gives him a place where he isn't ashamed to live.)

And then Stark calls him, ropes him into doing a goddamn support group, because technically he probably ought to be in jail. Also Stark Industries is funding it in the name of charity, so look, it's a paying job, and Sam's qualified for it.

(Sam is well aware that it's charity from Stark, Tony's way of forgiving him for what he's done. He hasn't forgiven himself yet, so he takes the damn job.)

Jessica's isn't the only session; he has multiple groups a day, five days a week, but she's probably the most notorious one there. And also the most silent. Sam doesn't blame her for it, doesn't push her to talk. She'll do it when she's ready, or she won't do it at all.

And maybe that's why he goes with her when she asks him, because he thinks maybe it'll help her. Instead, she gets pissed and propositions him, he turns her down, and once she's done drinking, he helps her back to his place, tucks her in on the couch.

By the time she wakes up, he's making breakfast in the kitchen, eggs sizzling in the pan. Superheroes eat breakfast, and he's assuming hungover ones do, too. Hell, it's not like Sam's unaffected by all the drinking he did, but Tylenol's calmed his headache. For now.]

[ her eyes continue to adjust to the daylight, sending bright streaks to the back of her skull. she shuts them to beat back the threat of a headache on top of everything else. she would be content to go back to sleep if not for the smell of breakfast cooking. it's been ages since she woke up to that. by choice.

jess rolls off the cushions and to her feet. part of her is pleased to have all her clothes on while another is disappointed. must have lost her hustle. damn. (because waking up hungover and sex-sore would fill her with such a proud sense of accomplishment. even she's too groggy to reach that level of sarcasm yet.) her feet shuffle and drag along the floor. she finds her way to the kitchen while squinting, a dubious sneer as the aroma thickens and her stomach tenses. ]

I wreck anything? [ she goes to the sink to run the faucet and cup her hand beneath the stream, bringing water to her mouth. ]

Nah, you just sorta passed on the couch after a few more half-assed attempts to get into my pants.

[Which he doesn't sound angry about; he's just stating the facts. Maybe in a different situation - like if she hadn't already been shit-faced, and if she weren't technically his patient - it would have worked. He's not sure she's his type, but he's not sure he's hers, either.]

Cups are in the cabinet up there. [A tilt of his head up and to the left to a cabinet on one side of the sink.] Any requests? Coffee? [It's not percolating yet, but there's a coffeemaker on the counter, waiting to be used.]

[ she lifts her eyes to the indicated cabinet, sucking water from her palm and then rinsing it. she shakes droplets of water from her fingers, using her dry hand to open the cupboard and grab a mug. her mind catalogues the dishware set -- more matches than in her place, less than in trish's -- to make some characteristic sense of later. her only active observation about it is "nice mugs," which isn't worth thinking, much less saying. ]

Grounds. [ it's a question but she can't work up the inflection to make it sound like one. while her coffeemaker at home may be a perma-scummed thrift store dinosaur compared to any decent black & decker, she's used all kinds. she's confident she can figure out which buttons do what. if she fails, it's still a better route than "fuck me not, tuck me in then make me coffee." there's some pride left in her, it's merely indistinguishable from the rest of the grime.

jess switches the machine on so the plate can start heating and pulls the carafe out to fill. ]

Next one over.

[He's thought about getting one of the fancy pod kinds, but when he drinks coffee, it's usually in quantities large enough that a pot is more convenient. And it happens - when he's had one of those nights where he has to go out and run until the ache in his muscles overtakes the other thoughts in his head, or, hell, if he's just hungover like he is right now.]

How do you like your eggs?

[He keeps the conversation simple; right now, she's probably too miserable to handle much more. He's only better off because he's had pain reliever; there's a familiar white bottle sitting next to the stove, should she want to grab some.]

(Combination of 4 and 5 sound okay? And tossing in a few prompts-masturbation, photography/videotaping, breast/nipple play, dirty talking and spanking?)

Edited 2016-11-02 03:39 (UTC)

[Hah, sure, sounds good! o/]

(Alright! Did you wanna start us off or should I?)

[If you could, that'd be great!]

(Katsuragi snored lightly while literally cuddling against Souji's body, mouth wrapped around one of her bare breasts as she sucked lightly. Maybe she was having an intense sexual dream, but either way it didn't seem like she was pulling away anytime soon.

Would the other girl appreciate and enjoy what they'd experienced? Perhaps, since it appeared that there were a few empty bottles at the foot of the bed.)

[open to cross-canon/medium!]

the morning after meme

John Watson | Sherlock | M/M

4+6

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mccree ( overwatch )

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Sousuke Yamazaki | Free! | OTA

Kagami Taiga | KnB | OTA

Terushima Yuuji | Haikyuu | OTA

Katniss Everdeen // The Hunger Games

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Remus Lupin | Harry Potter | OTA

lavellan ( dragon age )

Loki | MCU | ota

iron bull | dragon age

5- relationship status is up to you!

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Zenyatta | Overwatch | ota

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1 sort of???

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julian keller | marvel

Mary Crawley | Downton Abbey | M/F

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Haymitch Abernathy | Hunger Games | M/F

Poe Dameron | Star Wars | OTA

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Something like 2

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hanzo | overwatch

How about a 6?

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