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Junkrat was on edge, practically vibrating with energy as he fiddled with an empty bomb casing. There was already piles of concussion mines and a surplus of grenades littered around his small crafting area. More than plenty for any sort of mission that might be thrown their way, but his fingers itched in anticipation, excitement, for what was to come and the only outlets he had were blowing shit up and making bombs.
Two long weeks of a strict Don't-Blow-Shit-Up rule left Junkrat with the latter to vent. And it'd been a long two weeks.
With a light at the end of the tunnel, it felt farther away than ever. Like his fuse was just a little too short. Like he wouldn't make it to reach the end without dying in a blaze of glory.
Shit.
The door clicked open and Roadhog lumbered in smelling like a field of flowers had pissed all over him, his grey hair still damp and messy atop his head, sticking against his gas mask. It was cute. Somehow.
Neither said anything to each other, falling into a comfortable, yet unusual, silence.
Junkrat's metal hand clinked against the empty casing as he pouted; bored.
"Jamie."
Roadhog's voice made him jump in his seat, the casing clattering to the floor. The use of his real name sent a pleasant tingle through his body.
"Come to bed."
Junkrat twirled around in his chair to face his partner, who sat on the large bed, gingerly holding a needle and thread between his massive fingers, a pair of his overalls draped across his lap. He'd seen it often enough, Roadhog sewing up a hole in his pants, sewing a patch onto Junkrat's shorts, or sewing together a gaping wound... Those big hands, so deadly, doing such delicate tasks always made Junkrat's insides flutter. The sight would never lose it's appeal.
Junkrat flopped on the bed without further prompting, earning a tilt of the head from Roadhog- he was raising his brow at him, Junkrat could practically feel it. He watched his partner continue with his work, patching up a fraying hole from where his thighs rubbed together.
Roadhog huffed suddenly, setting the pants aside, needle and thread still attached, unfinished. He shifted, bed creaking under the weight, and brought his full attention to Junkrat.
"Not much longer to go, Jamie. Settle down."
Junkrat sat up because what the fuck, he wasn't even doing anything, and leveled a seething glare at the big man.
"What's your problem?! I'm settled! I'm quiet! Not bothering no single soul in this fuckin' place!" Junkrat threw his arms out to gesture to the whole Overwatch facility they were holed up in. And god did he hate it here. Hated how civilized it felt, how civilized it made him feel. It was making them soft, made them used to the food- not great, but there and not the crap they ate on the run from cops or the irradiated scavenges back home- made them used to a nice bed.
"You're too quiet," Roadhog said simply, not even fazed by Junkrat's anger.
"What the hell, mate! If I did talk you'd just grunt and groan and tell me to shush! You hate it when I talk! Thought you'd be fuckin' happy for a change." Junkrat waved his arms about frantically, because, hell, what else was there to do.
Roadhog grunted and grabbed Junkrat's flesh arm easily and pulled him close.
"Hate when you're quiet," Roadhog murmurs, as if embarrassed or shy or fuck. The words dumped water onto Junkrat's fire.
With his free hand, Roadhog pulled his mask up just over his nose.
It's more than Junkrat's seen before and he drinks it in like he'd just trekked across the Outback without a drop of water in his flask. He never knew when he'd get to see this again, so he tried to etch it in his brain, memorize it like the formula for his explosives.
Roadhog's lips met his gently and Junkrat trembled. They've kissed a lot of times, now, always at Junkrat's behest, but this.... This was all Roadhog, all gentle, all caring. This was new. And it made Junkrat's heart pound in his chest and blood roar loud enough in her ears to drown out the tinnitus.
Roadhog's hand found it's way to the back of Junkrat's head, guiding it gently for a better angle, fingers rubbing gentle circles at the base of his neck.
I was fucking divine, and when Roadhog's broad tongue licked it's way into his mouth, Junkrat moans. Fuck.
Junkrat pulled back, embarrassed because shit, he's never made such a stupid sounding noise in his life before.
Roadhog laughed his gut giggling slightly with the action and Junkrat really wanted to punch his face or his mask or whatever, when he notices the dimples on Roadhog's cheeks. Dimples. Fucking dimples. Junkrat's never seen the man's entire face but he knows that however messed up it might be it'll be fuckin' adorable no matter what.
Roadhog's laughter sputtered to an end, a grin remaining as he leaned forward, mouth next to Junkrat's ear.
"I'd like to hear that sound again." His voice deep, rumbling like bottled thunder, hot breath ghosting over Junkrat's ear.
It sent a shiver down Junkrat's spine and yep, those words had definitely gone straight to his dick. Yeah. Fuck. That was hot. If Roadhog liked that embarrassing sound then, well, he'd happily make it some more.