Work Text:
Roadhog was plenty used to Junkrat tinkering away in the fringes of his vision but his current obsession of ‘the same thing but smaller’ was wearing thin, especially considering the miniature bombs he was making with barely scaled explosives. With a huff Roadhog hoisted himself up away from his bench, hastening his leave when a particularly unsettling giggle rang forth followed by the unsheathing of a lighter. Now would be a good time to get some extra parts. And possibly reconstruct that blast proof barrier between them that had long since been destroyed.
An armful of fresh scrap later, Roadhog returned to their shared construction zone. He dropped it unceremoniously to the side of his workbench, slumping onto the stool and grabbing the first piece. As he did a small object caught his eye, positioned precisely in the middle of his table. It was, unmistakably, a pig of sorts, made of varying pieces of scrap metal. Roadhog considered the figure for a second before sliding it backwards, positioning it besides some of his tools. Noting that Junkrat had seemingly all but vanished, Roadhog allowed himself a lopsided smile before returning to the pile of scrap.
Many trips later in an attempt to salvage some useful parts, Roadhog returned the workshop for (as far as he was concerned) the last time. All but collapsing onto his stool, he exhaled far more than required in a deep, bedraggled sigh. He sat for a few minutes, mulling over the potentially useful pile collected before him, dragging a winch mechanism onto the bench-top. As he dropped it a small object behind seemed to topple, and reaching over Roadhog grasped in his hands what appeared to be a metal scrap rat, judging by the ears and tail. It was smaller than the pig from earlier and he considered them both, placing the pieces side by side. It took all of five seconds of restraint before Roadhog grabbed at them again, positioning the figures in a humping position. Chuckling, he shifted backwards only to be met with a small pair of arms thrown around his neck.
“Frisky buggers aren’t they?” Junkrat grinned, pressing himself against Roadhog.
“Surprised you didn’t do it,” came the reply. With a tug, Roadhog pulled Junkrat over and into his lap, watching as the smaller man scrabbled to maintain his purchase.
“Yeah well,” Junkrat started, pausing to lick his lips, “Didn’t want to be too forward.”
“You mean like usual,” Roadhog retorted, slipping his mask up and grabbing Junkrat by the arm before his offended act was launched. “What do you say to following their lead?”
“Be a shame not to,” Junkrat answered, flashing a grin before leaning in. Roadhog eyed the bench top, making a mental note to sweep the scrap off its surface before pinning Junkrat to it. It was mostly useless anyway.