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It wasn’t something I would’ve assumed he was into. I wasn’t a stranger to any of that freaky stuff, just wasn’t something I ever initiated.
Usually, we were in my room. That never bothered me much, Hanzo was such a private man that I was one of the few people who had ever seen the inside of his room anyways. It took a minute to take it all in when I finally had the time to savor it: the smell (fresh linen), the colors (black, black, black), the feel of the floor seeping in through my socks (cold). He hated that I wore my boots inside my quarters. I tried it out the other way, but it kind of hurts to be barefoot and walking around for too long. I guess he’s just used to it.
His night to host. Winston had me on recruitment duties, it was a tortuous couple weeks away from the base but there was the sweet, sweet hint of “I missed you” sex in the air. It was easy to tell when there was something he wasn’t sharing with me, and if his flirty aloof attitude was any hint to his secrets, we had quite an evening ahead of us.
There wasn’t much buildup to the question, the asshole knows I’d run around in circles chasing after my own dick if he’d asked me to. Hanzo opened a drawer, pulled out a long length of fabric, it had a nice sheen to it, looked lightweight but opaque. When he got closer, I recognized it, the gold geometric pattens that usually had the pleasure of holding his hair back. He carried it in both hands and held it out like an offering.
“Have you ever been blindfolded before?”
“I mean yeah, I have been abducted a couple times,” I chuckled, took a seat on the edge of the bed, leaned back leisurely and content to feel things unfold.
“Well, this isn’t very different, if you’ll indulge me?” Hanzo didn’t laugh, didn’t roll his eyes or huff, but his eyes held just a hint of smug amusement.
Hanzo leaned forward, his control much more skillfully crafted than my own, and I sighed as I pressed forward into fabric that Hanzo brought up over my eyes. It was soft, dark, and his hands married the fabric behind my head with a speed that didn’t surprise me. I reached out with my hand to rub at his waist, hungry for contact.
“How is that? Are you reminiscing?” He asked, whispering into my ear.
His breath was warm, and I bit back a grin, let the weight of the fabric keep my eyes closed, submitting to it. “That’s good, that’s just fine.”
“Stay,” he commanded. And I listened, really listened, as his body retreated there was a whoosh of air, the sound of his robe hitting the floor, shuffling, and then the weight and warmth of his legs on mine. He climbed onto my lap, and though I considered my hands big his thighs deadly, and I mapped them out blindly now, hands hungry to eat up every sensation. Hanzo was a vain man, skin was soft, kept out of the sun. I couldn’t relate, my hand was rough, calloused, you could pick out every scar just by sight but for Hanzo you had to focus, and feel. I was growing more and more entertained with every passing moment, as a tongue came out to lick along the outer shell of my ear. Then he climbed off of me, retreating all too quickly.
He was feeling bossy this evening, but I didn’t mind. I stood up at his command, held still as he unbuttoned my shirt and raised my arms so he could lift it over my head, he was careful not to disturb the fabric over my eyes. After he took my pants off, his hands touched me over my shorts, surprising me when his mouth joined in, wet and warm pressure seeping through to my skin. I shivered. If he had the dial to sensation in his hand he was playing with it, with me, and he pulled down my shorts and reached around to grab tightly at the backs of my thighs. There was no more build up before he pulled me in with his tongue, sucking hard and pulling me the rest of the way to full firmness.
I wanted to reach for his hair, moving slowly to find him and his hand grabbed mine to guide me, not pausing his oral work for a moment as he brought my hand to the side of his head. My thumb followed the curve of his ear, and my fingers curled along the softness of his hair. The pleasure of it all was enough to make me want to pull, but I resisted. He came off me for a moment to push me back, I almost lost my balance with all the clothing pooled my feet, my hands found the edge of the mattress and I sat, growing cold, patiently anticipating.
He crossed the room for a moment and returned to put his hands on my chest, climbing on top of me, finally skin against skin. He shifted as my lips searched for his neck, as I leaned forward my tongue found his collarbone first, and I kissed and sucked, and worked my back up to the underside of his chin where the peppering of cologne made him smell so heavenly. He squirmed more, trapped by my arms that circled him, held him greedily close to me, clinging to the warmth of his body.
He huffed, “let me work.”
“What’re you doing?”
“Getting ready for you,” he answered, arms moving back from where I had them pinned between us.
There was the snap of a lid, a squirt, and he arched forward into me, the muscle over his ribs were firm and pushed against my chest. I really wish I could’ve seen in this moment, but I stayed quiet to hear his focused breathing, imagining the look on his face as he stretched himself. Hanzo leaned forward farther, head pressing onto my shoulder, breaths coming quicker, feeling it tickle against my chest. I turned to kiss at the side of his head, the smell of his shampoo burned and invigorated like eucalyptus and I breathed in deep. The scent lingered as he moved to kiss me, the fullness of his lips more obvious to me now, as my tongue came out to wet his bottom lip.
It had been too long since I’d felt so much so quickly, as he pressed down onto me, hot, slippery, moving with a purpose. He bit the lobe of my ear, the volume of his groans bordering on uncomfortable and I couldn’t stop the curses that fell from my mouth, obscenities that jumbled together as his weight held me in place. The pace he set was unrelenting, a steady build into more and more, if my eyes weren’t covered already, I would’ve had to close them, so overwhelmed by his grip on my back and shoulders. One of his hands abandoned me and wedged between us, the slick sound of him stroking himself, causing his legs to tense, his rhythm thrown off, losing himself in the pleasure of his own making. It really was all too much. I tried to warn him that I was close, but when I opened my mouth all that left me was a gasp as he took me in deeper and deeper, groaning. I was close to the edge and he pulled me over with him, heat pulled from his hands then and hitting our chests, riding out the last bits of his own orgasm before I softened.
I collapsed backwards sliding out with a groan from both of us and he let his body sink into me, chuckling as he lifted the blindfold. I squinted as my eyes adjusted, couldn’t help but smile at him as his face moved above mine, eclipsing the warm light from above, his hair that fell like water and tickled the sides of my face.
“You look dazed,” he mused, pushing back the blindfold further and twisting a lock of my hair in his fingers.
“Yeah, I feel dazed,” I murmured, cupping his cheek.
He was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.