1st August 2020 Drabble

Brigitte runs toward the pool, prompting 76 to bark at her that there’s no running allowed (or jumping from the sides of the pool for that matter), ignores him blithely and cannonballs her way into the water.

When the rain has stopped drizzling down, and she pops up next to Hana, Hana does not really need to ask whether she’s done it or not. Brigitte’s glowing red cheeks are answer enough.

Still, she can’t help but practically hang off of her friend’s muscular arm as she whispers hurriedly: “Did you do it?!”

Brigitte inhales sharply, then nods quickly and briefly hides her burning face behind her hands. Hana can feel herself starting to flush as well, heart racing a mile a minute.

They hear Reinhardt long before they see him. He is having a loud conversation with McCree, who has to struggle to keep up even with his long legs.

Hana and Brigitte glance at each other, then surreptitiously at the two men. They look so good… tall and broad and furry; Reinhardt almost deathly pale and littered with scars of all shapes, colors and sizes… Jesse nice and brown already, swaggering and showing off the swing of his cock in his shorts in a way that makes it impossible to tell whether he’s doing it on purpose or not.

Reinhardt, usually wearing pretty tight shorts himself, is sporting speedos this time. Hana glances at Brigitte. Brigitte glances at Hana.

They simultaneously sink a bit deeper into the water, trying to cool their hot faces as they peek over the lip of the pool at the two men. At one man. At one man’s junk as it is outlined by the tight fabric; lying plainly visible in the crook of one thickly muscled leg, long enough to almost curl around the bend of his hip. Hana is reaching over and grabbing at Brigitte’s arm, nails digging in viciously.

“I know,” Brigitte whines. Reinhardt is either unaware of the plain lewdness of his body, or – which is probably the case – just plain doesn’t care. He throws his towel on one of the deck chairs. As he moves, they can see the ridge of the crown of his cock. They clench their thighs together.

“Was it difficult?” Hana asks softly.

Brigitte shakes her head, watching as Reinhardt moves toward the side of the pool with the steps. “Nuh-uh…”

They watch with bated breath as the huge crusader begins to leisurely move into the water, still talking to McCree, the water crawling up his legs excruciatingly slow; lapping at his knees, then his thighs.

“Please please please please please,” Hana starts chanting softly under her breath until Brigitte grabs her and presses her palm over Hana’s mouth. It looks like they’re wrestling which is also a good cover. At least they’re not just floating in the pool staring damn near drooling at the old man.

Reinhardt’s junk dips in the slightest bit.