[When Zenyatta insists that it is, Hanzo is ready to respond just as firmly that whatever it is is perfectly fine and absolutely normal. Hanzo's mind has already gone to places that it's not going to be easy to slip out of as he deliberately presses closer to rub against Zenyatta in an overtly sexual way...only pausing at the mention of eggs.]
Eggs? I am afraid I do not understand.
[Strangely enough he's not turned off by the notion. He's still very much aroused, and he's as eager to please the monk as ever. The archer doesn't know where the eggs would come from, how they would get inside him, or what might come out of those eggs, but if his response to Zenyatta's words are any indication his body is definitely receptive to it--definitely more so than his brain might be.]
If the eggs are yours, of course I would accept them. [He finds himself responding without giving much thought to the logistics. An aroused man is an easy man, and Hanzo isn't going to ask too many questions...except.]
Mm, what is that? [Hanzo is already pulling at the fastenings of his pants to get them off when he feels the second shape, very curious about that since he assumed he was very familiar with the monk's body.]
[Of course he does not understand. The very thought of an omnic with any kind of reproductive impulse, much less one that involves eggs, is utterly ridiculous, and yet it is so painfully, demonstrably true that Zenyatta cannot stand it. Almost literally, even. As Hanzo nuzzles up against him a sudden, sick heat sweeps through him and leaves his receptors scrambling, tingling already in the tips of his fingers, his groin...
He almost sobs when Hanzo agrees, though the part of his processor still capable of cool-headed comprehension reminds him that Hanzo does not seem to fully grasp what it is he is agreeing to.]
You do not have to agree for my sake, Hanzo. I do not want to h- [urt you, he wants to finish, but the words silence themselves at those hands, expertly pulling him loose. Cool air kisses hot silicone, and something he has yet to fully identify as flesh.
Weakly, Zenyatta laughs.]
How else do you suppose I will fill you up, dearheart?
[Later, he will realise with fondness and terror that Genji must live here, that they must have reconciled in at least some fashion- and that he could all too easily have been caught like this by his most precious student. But that hardly matters now. By the time he has been led to safety he is leaking copiously, lubricant between his legs while his cock wets the front of his pants.]
I understand if you have- changed your mind. [Even if it pains him to say so.]
[Hanzo isn't agreeing for Zenyatta's sake. Of course he might, but in the moment his reasons are purely selfish. He has always felt intense bonding feelings toward his brother's master. Even before Hanzo was aware of his identity. So when he leads the way to his bedroom and shuts the door behind them, he doesn't hesitate to finish removing his clothing, noticing the wetness on his pants once they're on the way off.
He's ready to do the same for Zenyatta when he sees how aroused he is and how much he's leaking. Hanzo doesn't know how it makes sense, how it happened, but he wants it. It's clear that whatever Zenyatta has to give him, he is ready to give it, and he is ready to give it now.]
You would not hurt me intentionally, and I trust you. Come.
[Hanzo is half hard himself as he pulls Zenyatta to his bed by the hands, pulling and tugging away fabric on the way. He's not sure how this is done, but he does show a willingness to try his best.]
[Zenyatta sighs. It does not matter how many times Hanzo says it, aloud or (more often) with his body, it is still a wonderful revelation to Zenyatta that- in spite of Genji, in spite of their past, in spite of everything- he has been granted such a precious gift as his trust. Some part of his processor is already reminding him that a trusting relationship makes for a successful brood, but it is background noise. All that matters to him are those soft, dark eyes, and the honesty with which they look upon him.
Soon enough he is kneeling nude on the bed. Fully exposed, his latest and hopefully temporary transformation is unveiled: above his cock is an ovipositor, slender and wet and faintly translucent against the omnic's hand as he grips it unsteadily.]
I-- am not sure that this is ready. [He has experience with it now; he understands its machinations. Zenyatta's hand slips lower, to his phallus.] And I believe I should ensure that you are ready to take them.
[There is little point in explaining what they are; they know. A short shuffle brings him close to Hanzo, his faceplate nuzzling the man's beard.]
[It seems Hanzo had mistaken the wetness from Zenyatta's ovipositor as what was just beneath it. Now that they are both undressed and he is able to see the new part of the monk up close he understands fully how he plans to place eggs inside him.
He trusts Zenyatta fully and knows that even if the situation seems unusual, there must have been a reason that he was chosen instead of anyone else to receive this portion of eggs.
The archer lies back as he's told. Inside him there is a storm of emotion brewing with equal parts anticipation, anxiousness, arousal, and that indescribably fondness he has for Zenyatta. In such a short amount of time he has come to care a great deal about the soul residing in the monk atop him. His hands settle at the sides of his faceplate, fingertips tracing the outline of it gently.]
[That conflict is writ plainly in the lines of his body: a certain hesitation in the shift of his muscles, the flicker in his eyes as he studies the strange, gleaming shaft. But there is tenderness there, too, and a trust so deep that it shakes Zenyatta to his core, even as he settles into position, half-curved over him like a silvery moon.
His cock settles alongside Hanzo's, its partner leaking lubricant onto his belly, but Zenyatta is scarcely paying attention to that just yet. Instead he butts his head into the touches, like a cat urging its master's hands to just the right place.]
Thank you. A thousand times, thank you.
[There is a softness in his voice again, low and hoarse and hypnotic- though perhaps that can be forgiven with the way own hand disappears between his legs, stirring through the slick mess of his cunt for the right lubrication.
A moment later, those same fingers are slowly, carefully prying Hanzo's cheeks apart and teasing his rim.]
[Hanzo is not used to any of this, but as he said he trusts Zenyatta completely. Still, seeing all of that substance drip from the monk is worrying. What if it is too much? What if he is leaking some vital component for him to function. Hanzo watches him closely for any signs that he might be in distress.
The gratitude is appreciated but not necessary. For Hanzo there is nothing to be thanked for. He wants to help.]
Are you feeling okay? [He asks finally.
Soon after the question he notices Zenyatta using himself to wet his fingers just before rubbing those very same fingers against his hole. Hanzo's face flushes, but he spreads his legs further apart, taking a breath as he relaxes himself so that the monk can prepare him to receive the eggs. It has been some time since he's last taken anything bigger than the size of a couple fingers inside him, but he's sure he can manage.]
[At the question Zenyatta only laughs: a bright, off-kilter sound that seeps into his voice. Even to his aural receptors it seems ever so slightly wrong, though not in an altogether unpleasant fashion. It is as if he might drift away at any moment, he decides, like filling his head with air, like...]
Dearest, I feel unbelievable.
[All the moreso when he finally feels that give at his fingertips and suddenly they are engulfed in the hot, clinging grip of an unprepared hole, and it is all so wonderfully new that he cannot help but gasp- new, and yet also familiar to that purring, bestial hunger that wracks his core.
Another finger joins the first, inching deeper and deeper with each slide.]
You are beautiful... and so very welcoming. Would you rather I showed you? [Even simply shuffling closer is enough to send another thrill shivering through him- to have his cock leak thick, creamy lubricant onto Hanzo's stomach. Impulsively- twitchily, almost- Zenyatta crooks his finger into that gorgeous little soft spot inside of him.] This place is perfect for me...
[It isn't that he suspects something is wrong with Zenyatta. He is just behaving differently than usual, but that's to be expected. Perhaps he is just overly concerned for no reason. Well, he knows the reason.
Hanzo sighs in response to the next finger, shifting his hips a little to encourage him to continue. He can take more, he can take him. He's sure of it. Even if it is initially uncomfortable he wants to make Zenyatta impressed with his ability to accommodate everything he wants to give him.]
Yes..please. I am ready. [Those may be the last words he manages to speak coherently for a while. The fingers inside him brush up against just the right spot to make his muscles tense around long fingers and his cock jump as it leaks on his stomach alongside Zenyatta's own organs.]
[Ready, Hanzo says, and for the first time Zenyatta finds himself hesitating, wondering if it is all heat and lust speaking for him- if his pretty new cock might ruin the hole still clenching around him with each flutter of muscle across the man's stomach. Yet nor will his body let him recede from that feral edge now that he has peered over it. All that remains is to take the plunge.
Reluctantly, he withdraws, and for a moment he wishes he could see the threads of lubricant that connect them momentarily, but. He must prioritise. The full, twitching length of his ovipositor is wet already, and it takes a steady hand to line it up correctly, but with his resolve strengthened a strange, giddy calm has settled over him. He can crowd in close enough to nuzzle Hanzo, aware enough to appreciate the little things: the scent of his hair, the precise warmth of his skin-
Zenyatta groans softly as the tip finds its place and presses snugly into his body. There is resistance, of course, it is fat and blunt and far larger than his long, slender fingers, but he does not wait for Hanzo's permission. With short, shallow thrusts, he begins to cram inch after inch into his body, shaking all the while as the sensations rise through him like heat shimmering on a road.]
[In retrospect there was no way he could have every readied himself for something like this. No way he could have anticipated what it might feel like to have the slick ovipositor push inside him, stretch him, and continue to invade his body even as he's unsure of how much of it he's taken, and whether or not he can manage more.
Hanzo is vocal about every bit of it, not quite speaking in coherent language, but in grunts, sighs, hisses, and moans. There has to be some moon blessing effect at play because he would not normally approve of anything this strange, but his body is responding to it well as if it is in heat, and wanting more of whatever Zenyatta cares to give him.
If he's trembling it's out of a new mixture of pleasure and the anticipation of getting to the point where he's nearly on the verge of being overwhelmed but finding out he can take more than he once thought possible.]
[By the time he feels the first real resistance Zenyatta has lost almost all sense of where he ends and Hanzo begins, the liquid heat intensity of their connection made all the moreso by the copious slick the ovipositor releases into his lover to ease its path. He is tight, almost painfully so at first, until he's brought low over Hanzo's body and the ragged rise and fall of each breath and groan meets his chestplate.
Zenyatta makes a sound that could have been Hanzo's name, were it not garbled as soon as it is synthesised; what he means to say is that it is coming, that his hips seem to move of their own accord as he draws back. His own cock presses uselessly into the cleft of Hanzo's ass, a pleasant distraction in the half a second it takes to register the strangest of sensations in his core, movement-]
I-it is- [- coming, something bulging at the base of his ovipositor as each thrust draws it further and further along, stretching Hanzo's rim around the palm-wide intrusion of what he has realised, with dazzling clarity, must be an egg.]
[Despite the great effort it takes to relax himself enough to accommodate the appendage, it is still very much a struggle to hold the ovipositor inside him, but with all the slick discharge from the new organ Hanzo manages to shift a bit to allow Zenyatta to slip deeper inside him. Eventually it's not so much of a struggle.
At least until the egg comes. It's...a lot more than he was anticipating and he's unable to keep himself from being vocal about it. He groans through gritted teeth, gripping at handfuls of fabric from the sheets beneath them. He silences himself down to a pant once the widest part of the egg has passed, but there is an additional heavy feeling of fullness that lingers with the egg inside him.]
[Every muscle in Hanzo's body fights the release; he feels his shoulders bulge, sees the beads of sweat appear along his brow like diamonds, the way each bone in his hands stands in sharp relief from his knuckles as he grips. And Zenyatta would feel like a monster for causing him such discomfort were it not for the sudden, blinding satisfaction that rolls through his entire body as the egg finally releases and settles deep in his lover's guts, as if someone were petting him from head to tail.
For a few moments it is all he can do to keep himself from collapsing onto Hanzo, systems purring in their ceaseless activity. Then Hanzo's voice reaches him through the fog, and he gives a soft sigh.]
I am not sure... ah, I can feel it... [Against the tip of his ovipositor, he means, when he nudges his hips blindly forward. Before he can help it he is releasing a hard-light arm, which immediately outstretches one golden hand to cup Hanzo's cheek and stroke down his neck.] How wonderful...! Hanzo, you are perfect.
[But instinct tells him that they are not yet finished, and after a moment his body backs it up. The pressure returns, that stretch within him-] A-are you ready?
[Hanzo holds up rather well. And despite the discomfort there's an overwhelming amount of pleasure and satisfaction that comes with knowing what he's just accomplished.
The forward motion of Zenyatta's hips nudging at the egg already deposited inside him causes him to let out something of a whimper, though it's quickly cut out as he realizes he's making a sound he's never made before. His insides, at least, feel well lubricated after the first egg and all the slick substance leaking from Zenyatta's ovipositor. Perhaps the next one would be less difficult to take.
The monk's praise gives a confidence boost of its own.]
Mn. Y-yes. I think I can manage another.
[It's just a guess at this point, but he thinks he can hold another egg. Any more than that, though, he's unsure about.]
[Beneath him Hanzo makes a helpless, animal sound, and Zenyatta feels his body quake as the beast in him rises to answer in the only way it knows how: with hard grunt-fucking thrusts and a possessive growl, though the latter slips from his synth before he can properly contain it.
Of course, just as he feels he has pulled himself together Hanzo speaks, and that's enough to unravel that careful focus all over again. The growl tapers into a whine, which he promptly buries into the crook of Hanzo's neck.]
H-Hanzo, you must not say such things! You will ruin me! And then...
[And then he slides home all over again, grinding, stuffing Hanzo with as much as he can take over and over, until finally he feels that wonderful, dangerous pressure moving along the length of his ovipositor.]
[Hanzo loses his composure almost immediately as Zenyatta drops his restraint to fuck him properly, and after that he simply gets lost in the feeling of being stuffed full of his lover. The egg inside him already produces additional pressure to his prostate and he comes with another helpless whimper. The mess they are making is now partially his own along with all of the slickness Zenyatta's ovipositor has been dripping.
His fists clench harder on the sheets as his insides have the same response to the anatomy the monk has inside him until the movements slow and he's trying to catch his breath.
The strain is incredibly exhausting but Hanzo has the stamina and drive for more, and before he can ask for it Zenyatta delivers. It takes a moment but Hanzo is hard all over again, yet still just as close as he has been to orgasm before. This time it takes focus to keep himself from it as his body moves in response to the monk's movements into him, groaning and keeping eye contact with Zenyatta's faceplate.]
[Thick seed paints sticky white across Zenyatta's midsection, between struts and across plating, and with it the strange, tantalising scent of life and chesnut blossom and Hanzo himself, holding him tight and perfect inside of him, so welcoming-- but it's the sound that sets him over that edge; his voice joins Hanzo's and his phallus gives a final frame-shaking pulse where it slides against the man's belly and mats the hair there with lubricant in turn.
His body shakes and twitches over Hanzo, his jieba flash haphazardly with the sheer effort of keeping himself here in the moment and not crashing into a final overload. Yet that primal hunger within him still wants and wants through the rapture.
And when it lifts even fractionally he sees it in Hanzo's face, too: beneath the glassiness of his eyes and the sweat on his brow and the saliva on his lip, he wants it just as badly. Ruin me.
Zenyatta needs no further encouragement. One steady pump of the hips becomes another, and another, and suddenly they're moving on their own in quick, hard thrusts that burn through him like wildfire as Hanzo's channel suckles him back to the hilt, no less eager to take him as deep as possible for the sheer, brute impact each and every time.
It's wonderful and it's terrible and somewhere in the back of his mind Zenyatta knows he might truly hurt him. But that tell-tale pressure between his legs obliterates his conscience in a single blinding second, and all of a sudden all he can think of is encouraging the final egg as deep and safe as he can force it.
White-hot pleasure ejects it from his ovipositor and into that snug little space; if Hanzo climaxes again Zenyatta logs it only in the rawest and most mechanical sense as his overclocked systems finally crash into the blissful silence of a reload. His body, at least, has the courtesy to slump sideways rather than fall with his full (albeit negligible) weight onto Hanzo.]
[Hanzo can't even fathom how it must feel for Zenyatta to have his systems overloaded like this, but he's going through his own version of that. Once, and then all over again with each time the monk overstimulates all the right parts of his insides.
He can feel his cock continuously dripping and leaking either semen or precum from both ejaculation and arousal back to back. Hanzo's almost sure the normal human body is not meant to do such things. Toward the tail end of it all he's a mess. His arousal is wet and spent as well as all of that excess slickness from Zenyatta's ovipositor making his pubic hair lie flat against his skin and leaving the insides of his thighs and ass slick as well.
The archer barely finds the strength to move, but manages to hook an arm around Zenyatta to keep him close as he catches his breath and pleads for his body to calm down.]
[Zenyatta's world reduces to heat and humidity and pleasure and the faintest scent of ozone as his processor stutters towards clarity, the strange oversensitivity of his ovipositor sliding free with a slick, wet sound, almost too much for his body to bear- only for Hanzo's arm to reach for him through the fog.
Slowly, he returns.]
Hanzo... [One, two, three: his body twitches, pulses, but it has nothing left to give, and suddenly enough of his memory has been released for something so simple as thinking once more.
Stay, Hanzo says, and such a tide of warmth and adoration and sheer, blind, stupid love rises within him that it momentarily stuns him.]
Of course. [hoarse, as if he has been singing all night, and perhaps in a sense he has, though that does not keep the passion from his voice] Always.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Eggs? I am afraid I do not understand.
[Strangely enough he's not turned off by the notion. He's still very much aroused, and he's as eager to please the monk as ever. The archer doesn't know where the eggs would come from, how they would get inside him, or what might come out of those eggs, but if his response to Zenyatta's words are any indication his body is definitely receptive to it--definitely more so than his brain might be.]
If the eggs are yours, of course I would accept them. [He finds himself responding without giving much thought to the logistics. An aroused man is an easy man, and Hanzo isn't going to ask too many questions...except.]
Mm, what is that? [Hanzo is already pulling at the fastenings of his pants to get them off when he feels the second shape, very curious about that since he assumed he was very familiar with the monk's body.]
Genji is not home. Come with me.
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He almost sobs when Hanzo agrees, though the part of his processor still capable of cool-headed comprehension reminds him that Hanzo does not seem to fully grasp what it is he is agreeing to.]
You do not have to agree for my sake, Hanzo. I do not want to h- [urt you, he wants to finish, but the words silence themselves at those hands, expertly pulling him loose. Cool air kisses hot silicone, and something he has yet to fully identify as flesh.
Weakly, Zenyatta laughs.]
How else do you suppose I will fill you up, dearheart?
[Later, he will realise with fondness and terror that Genji must live here, that they must have reconciled in at least some fashion- and that he could all too easily have been caught like this by his most precious student. But that hardly matters now. By the time he has been led to safety he is leaking copiously, lubricant between his legs while his cock wets the front of his pants.]
I understand if you have- changed your mind. [Even if it pains him to say so.]
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He's ready to do the same for Zenyatta when he sees how aroused he is and how much he's leaking. Hanzo doesn't know how it makes sense, how it happened, but he wants it. It's clear that whatever Zenyatta has to give him, he is ready to give it, and he is ready to give it now.]
You would not hurt me intentionally, and I trust you. Come.
[Hanzo is half hard himself as he pulls Zenyatta to his bed by the hands, pulling and tugging away fabric on the way. He's not sure how this is done, but he does show a willingness to try his best.]
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Soon enough he is kneeling nude on the bed. Fully exposed, his latest and hopefully temporary transformation is unveiled: above his cock is an ovipositor, slender and wet and faintly translucent against the omnic's hand as he grips it unsteadily.]
I-- am not sure that this is ready. [He has experience with it now; he understands its machinations. Zenyatta's hand slips lower, to his phallus.] And I believe I should ensure that you are ready to take them.
[There is little point in explaining what they are; they know. A short shuffle brings him close to Hanzo, his faceplate nuzzling the man's beard.]
Will you lie back for me?
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He trusts Zenyatta fully and knows that even if the situation seems unusual, there must have been a reason that he was chosen instead of anyone else to receive this portion of eggs.
The archer lies back as he's told. Inside him there is a storm of emotion brewing with equal parts anticipation, anxiousness, arousal, and that indescribably fondness he has for Zenyatta. In such a short amount of time he has come to care a great deal about the soul residing in the monk atop him. His hands settle at the sides of his faceplate, fingertips tracing the outline of it gently.]
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His cock settles alongside Hanzo's, its partner leaking lubricant onto his belly, but Zenyatta is scarcely paying attention to that just yet. Instead he butts his head into the touches, like a cat urging its master's hands to just the right place.]
Thank you. A thousand times, thank you.
[There is a softness in his voice again, low and hoarse and hypnotic- though perhaps that can be forgiven with the way own hand disappears between his legs, stirring through the slick mess of his cunt for the right lubrication.
A moment later, those same fingers are slowly, carefully prying Hanzo's cheeks apart and teasing his rim.]
You will look beautiful... moreso, that is...
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The gratitude is appreciated but not necessary. For Hanzo there is nothing to be thanked for. He wants to help.]
Are you feeling okay? [He asks finally.
Soon after the question he notices Zenyatta using himself to wet his fingers just before rubbing those very same fingers against his hole. Hanzo's face flushes, but he spreads his legs further apart, taking a breath as he relaxes himself so that the monk can prepare him to receive the eggs. It has been some time since he's last taken anything bigger than the size of a couple fingers inside him, but he's sure he can manage.]
I am flattered that you would think so.
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Dearest, I feel unbelievable.
[All the moreso when he finally feels that give at his fingertips and suddenly they are engulfed in the hot, clinging grip of an unprepared hole, and it is all so wonderfully new that he cannot help but gasp- new, and yet also familiar to that purring, bestial hunger that wracks his core.
Another finger joins the first, inching deeper and deeper with each slide.]
You are beautiful... and so very welcoming. Would you rather I showed you? [Even simply shuffling closer is enough to send another thrill shivering through him- to have his cock leak thick, creamy lubricant onto Hanzo's stomach. Impulsively- twitchily, almost- Zenyatta crooks his finger into that gorgeous little soft spot inside of him.] This place is perfect for me...
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Hanzo sighs in response to the next finger, shifting his hips a little to encourage him to continue. He can take more, he can take him. He's sure of it. Even if it is initially uncomfortable he wants to make Zenyatta impressed with his ability to accommodate everything he wants to give him.]
Yes..please. I am ready. [Those may be the last words he manages to speak coherently for a while. The fingers inside him brush up against just the right spot to make his muscles tense around long fingers and his cock jump as it leaks on his stomach alongside Zenyatta's own organs.]
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Reluctantly, he withdraws, and for a moment he wishes he could see the threads of lubricant that connect them momentarily, but. He must prioritise. The full, twitching length of his ovipositor is wet already, and it takes a steady hand to line it up correctly, but with his resolve strengthened a strange, giddy calm has settled over him. He can crowd in close enough to nuzzle Hanzo, aware enough to appreciate the little things: the scent of his hair, the precise warmth of his skin-
Zenyatta groans softly as the tip finds its place and presses snugly into his body. There is resistance, of course, it is fat and blunt and far larger than his long, slender fingers, but he does not wait for Hanzo's permission. With short, shallow thrusts, he begins to cram inch after inch into his body, shaking all the while as the sensations rise through him like heat shimmering on a road.]
no subject
Hanzo is vocal about every bit of it, not quite speaking in coherent language, but in grunts, sighs, hisses, and moans. There has to be some moon blessing effect at play because he would not normally approve of anything this strange, but his body is responding to it well as if it is in heat, and wanting more of whatever Zenyatta cares to give him.
If he's trembling it's out of a new mixture of pleasure and the anticipation of getting to the point where he's nearly on the verge of being overwhelmed but finding out he can take more than he once thought possible.]
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Zenyatta makes a sound that could have been Hanzo's name, were it not garbled as soon as it is synthesised; what he means to say is that it is coming, that his hips seem to move of their own accord as he draws back. His own cock presses uselessly into the cleft of Hanzo's ass, a pleasant distraction in the half a second it takes to register the strangest of sensations in his core, movement-]
I-it is- [- coming, something bulging at the base of his ovipositor as each thrust draws it further and further along, stretching Hanzo's rim around the palm-wide intrusion of what he has realised, with dazzling clarity, must be an egg.]
no subject
At least until the egg comes. It's...a lot more than he was anticipating and he's unable to keep himself from being vocal about it. He groans through gritted teeth, gripping at handfuls of fabric from the sheets beneath them. He silences himself down to a pant once the widest part of the egg has passed, but there is an additional heavy feeling of fullness that lingers with the egg inside him.]
H-how many more?
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For a few moments it is all he can do to keep himself from collapsing onto Hanzo, systems purring in their ceaseless activity. Then Hanzo's voice reaches him through the fog, and he gives a soft sigh.]
I am not sure... ah, I can feel it... [Against the tip of his ovipositor, he means, when he nudges his hips blindly forward. Before he can help it he is releasing a hard-light arm, which immediately outstretches one golden hand to cup Hanzo's cheek and stroke down his neck.] How wonderful...! Hanzo, you are perfect.
[But instinct tells him that they are not yet finished, and after a moment his body backs it up. The pressure returns, that stretch within him-] A-are you ready?
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The forward motion of Zenyatta's hips nudging at the egg already deposited inside him causes him to let out something of a whimper, though it's quickly cut out as he realizes he's making a sound he's never made before. His insides, at least, feel well lubricated after the first egg and all the slick substance leaking from Zenyatta's ovipositor. Perhaps the next one would be less difficult to take.
The monk's praise gives a confidence boost of its own.]
Mn. Y-yes. I think I can manage another.
[It's just a guess at this point, but he thinks he can hold another egg. Any more than that, though, he's unsure about.]
no subject
Of course, just as he feels he has pulled himself together Hanzo speaks, and that's enough to unravel that careful focus all over again. The growl tapers into a whine, which he promptly buries into the crook of Hanzo's neck.]
H-Hanzo, you must not say such things! You will ruin me! And then...
[And then he slides home all over again, grinding, stuffing Hanzo with as much as he can take over and over, until finally he feels that wonderful, dangerous pressure moving along the length of his ovipositor.]
... I-I could ruin you...
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His fists clench harder on the sheets as his insides have the same response to the anatomy the monk has inside him until the movements slow and he's trying to catch his breath.
The strain is incredibly exhausting but Hanzo has the stamina and drive for more, and before he can ask for it Zenyatta delivers. It takes a moment but Hanzo is hard all over again, yet still just as close as he has been to orgasm before. This time it takes focus to keep himself from it as his body moves in response to the monk's movements into him, groaning and keeping eye contact with Zenyatta's faceplate.]
Ruin me, then.
no subject
His body shakes and twitches over Hanzo, his jieba flash haphazardly with the sheer effort of keeping himself here in the moment and not crashing into a final overload. Yet that primal hunger within him still wants and wants through the rapture.
And when it lifts even fractionally he sees it in Hanzo's face, too: beneath the glassiness of his eyes and the sweat on his brow and the saliva on his lip, he wants it just as badly. Ruin me.
Zenyatta needs no further encouragement. One steady pump of the hips becomes another, and another, and suddenly they're moving on their own in quick, hard thrusts that burn through him like wildfire as Hanzo's channel suckles him back to the hilt, no less eager to take him as deep as possible for the sheer, brute impact each and every time.
It's wonderful and it's terrible and somewhere in the back of his mind Zenyatta knows he might truly hurt him. But that tell-tale pressure between his legs obliterates his conscience in a single blinding second, and all of a sudden all he can think of is encouraging the final egg as deep and safe as he can force it.
White-hot pleasure ejects it from his ovipositor and into that snug little space; if Hanzo climaxes again Zenyatta logs it only in the rawest and most mechanical sense as his overclocked systems finally crash into the blissful silence of a reload. His body, at least, has the courtesy to slump sideways rather than fall with his full (albeit negligible) weight onto Hanzo.]
we can call this whenever :B I am satisfied lol
He can feel his cock continuously dripping and leaking either semen or precum from both ejaculation and arousal back to back. Hanzo's almost sure the normal human body is not meant to do such things. Toward the tail end of it all he's a mess. His arousal is wet and spent as well as all of that excess slickness from Zenyatta's ovipositor making his pubic hair lie flat against his skin and leaving the insides of his thighs and ass slick as well.
The archer barely finds the strength to move, but manages to hook an arm around Zenyatta to keep him close as he catches his breath and pleads for his body to calm down.]
Stay with me.
ayyy we done
Slowly, he returns.]
Hanzo... [One, two, three: his body twitches, pulses, but it has nothing left to give, and suddenly enough of his memory has been released for something so simple as thinking once more.
Stay, Hanzo says, and such a tide of warmth and adoration and sheer, blind, stupid love rises within him that it momentarily stuns him.]
Of course. [hoarse, as if he has been singing all night, and perhaps in a sense he has, though that does not keep the passion from his voice] Always.