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It’s not that Junkrat hates small animals. He doesn’t. He likes most of them. And he is more than aware of Roadhog’s unexplainable draw to the little creatures. The smaller they are, the happier Roadhog becomes. His favorites are pigs (because of fucking course they are), but it doesn’t matter. They once ran across a baby armadillo, and it took Junkrat nearly an hour to convince Roadhog that they had to go and that the armadillo could not come with them (imagine that: Junkrat having to convince Roadhog of anything).
But what he did hate was when a small, admittedly adorable, animal took his place.
Roadhog had found the puppy on the side of the road just whining and barking its head off, no doubt calling for its mother or something. His bike pulled over and he was off it before Junkrat was even really aware that they had stopped. He quietly picked the creature up and put the puppy in Junkrat’s lap. Before the smaller Junker could complain, the puppy had barked happily, licking his face, and Junkrat was silenced by the wind as they drove away again.
Everything was fine at that point. It wasn’t until they made camp that night that things got bad.
Roadhog had secured the perimeter, making sure that everything was safe and secure while Junkrat finished up with his bombs. The bedrolls were spread out, close to one another as usual, and Roadhog had already laid down in his. Junkrat was just about to join him when he saw the puppy. The small creature was curled up on Roadhog’s stomach, already asleep. Junkrat’s eyes narrowed and his hand twitched toward one of the small bombs he kept on him.
“No.” Roadhog’s deep rumble had stopped his twitching hand, but not the glare. Junkrat pointed to the creature with his flesh hand and Roadhog grunted once in annoyance. He motioned for Junkrat to come over to him and, when Junkrat did, Roadhog held his arm out. After a second or two spent pouting, Junkrat laid down, curling up to Roadhog’s side, his head on Roadhog’s arm. it wasn’t as good a spot as his belly, but it would have to do.
“Stupid dog,” Junkrat muttered.
“Shut up, Jamison.”