Work Text:
From the moment he met the bloke, he’s wondered if he could find that great big secret just by dissecting him. He never acts on it, of course, but it’s an urge he gets occasionally, particularly when the brat’s being frustrating (which is often).
He’s definitely wanted to wring that scrawny neck several times. Watch him flail uselessly before going limp. Would he have any other miracle bargains to pull out of his ass?
And sometimes, when he watches the kid sleep, all serene and gentle and fucking quiet for once, he wants to make that tranquility last forever.
But lately, he’s wanted other things. Softer things. And Roadhog isn’t sure whether it’s him or Mako or both or neither, but he does nothing. Says nothing.
For now, at least.