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Another fuck-up. Maybe it’s because his partner in crime (his boss, hypothetically) is always talking like they’re both perfect world famous criminals with perfect success streaks to match, but he always feels a little more like shit after every failed heist. Or mission. Or- What was he just doing? God who cares, he needs some relief for once. Just one good day, would it kill him- he chuckles quietly to himself for a moment, as he realizes it probably would. Self sabotaging is a hell of a drug. Actual drugs are off the table for the moment though, and he’s too lazy to go procure alcohol, and especially not after that failure. No, this calls for a very ancient ritual of relief.
He feels his briefs strain in his pants.
And there’s his partner- or his boss- or whatever they are. Of course he can’t get a moment alone. Was he there the whole time? Roadhog has a habit of getting lost in thought. He also has a habit of ignoring the rat.
“Lookin a little flushed mate, we haven’t even started runnin’ proper”
He’s also trying to make a habit of not responding to Junkrat. So he doesn’t.
“Aw c’mon it wasn’t that bad, what’s the matter?”
Normally at this point Junkrat would start rambling on about his stupid ideas of what could be going on in his partner’s head.
For some reason, though, he isn’t doing that.
Roadhog tries to capitalize on the silence and take in their surroundings. A.. trashed hotel waiting room? He’s leaning against the back side of a smooth desk. What country are they in? The tight bulge in pants is making it hard to focus. Knowing Junkrat would definitely see it if he paid attention is clouding his thoughts even more. Disgusted with himself, as usual, but also annoyed…. pent up. He’d probably kill for a good fuck right now, take the edge off, it’s not like they haven’t done that sort of thing before. Just partners in crime helping each other out. They help each other with everything. It’s no big deal. Or at least that’s what Junkrat always says. Why was he just staring at Roadhog? Stupid creepy smile, his lips are curling the same way they always do just before he says something perverted,
“You need something from me?”
without any other warning he cups Roadhog’s hard-on with his left hand, still just staring up at him. Roadhog grunts but doesn’t bother pushing him away. May as well indulge.. at least see where the freak’s going with it this time. Aren’t they in public? He can’t seem to remember as he feels the warmth of Junkrat’s palm against his crotch.
“You know” Junkrat starts rubbing casually “you can use me whenever you need, Hoggy, wherever you want”
What the fuck is he saying? He never talks like this- he wouldn’t.. he wouldn’t say that. But he did. Use him? Really? Roadhog’s still pretty ticked off, “using” someone is maybe exactly what he needs right now.
Though now he’s finding it harder and harder to think clearly, letting his vision drift, just feeling the contact. It’s warm in his mind. He’s closed his eyes (not that anyone would be able to tell with his mask on) and somehow failed to notice the click of his belt being undone, and the quick unzip of his pants, he just feels the warmth. His mind is foggy with arousal as he feels Junkrat’s real hand around his cock, and then kissing at the head, he’s never been careful before but now there’s something gentle about his touch. The metal hand is on Roadhog’s thigh instead. Which Roadhog would find a little strange if it weren’t for the grunts of pleasure he was trying to hold back as the rat’s mouth treated his frustration.
Wet and hot, careful and calculated tongue movements, no teeth… much better than all the other times they had done this. The metal hand even gripped tightly onto a bundle of Roadhog’s pants which rested at his hips, usually body hair would get snagged in the knuckle joints.
Something was missing though.
Roadhog’s favorite part sometimes was the messiness of it all, the gagging. He felt himself release the death grip he had on the lip of the counter he was leaning against, he opened his eyes briefly to get some idea of where he was as he watched his arm move. Behind his arm the dark green peeling wall of, what was he guessed, a hotel waiting room. None of that mattered now though. He squinted and shut his eyes again as he felt his hand connect with the back of Junkrat’s head, he heard Junkrat’s muffled noise of surprise as he broke the steady rhythm and pushed down.
It’s easier than he thought it would be, he knows Junkrat’s light, missing two entire limbs sometimes makes him even lighter. But even with the added metal, malnutrition versus Roadhog’s strength, it was never hard to move the younger man’s body however Roadhog wanted. Almost no resistance came from the rat this time though, only just enough to make it fun. He said Roadhog could use him, so this was that, really and truly face-fucking him. Making him gag, probably cry.
Roadhog felt his hips occasionally disconnect from the wall of the counter he was pressed against- it was an unconscious movement with no pattern or predictability. He found it hard to think before, but now he couldn’t think at all, he didn’t even have room in his mind to feel guilt for once. This was self indulgence, practically just masturbation to ease his frustrations, only this time with a noisy twink’s big mouth around his cock. The hot breath and muffled moaning reminding Roadhog his toy is alive. The sounds Junkrat made as he gagged were making somewhere in Roadhog’s gut swirl hot. He still couldn’t see him, he didn’t want to, feeling him was enough. Even the metal hand was warm against Roadhog’s thigh now. It had become hard to remember they were physically connected any way other than dick-in-mouth and hand-on-head. It was hard to picture where the rest of Junkrat’s body was, or how he was positioned, Roadhog could only focus on the hot coil inside him.
He was close.
He pushed and pulled Junkrat’s skull like he was using a fleshlight at this point. He felt his other arm move without a conscious decision and his hands met each other on Junkrat’s head- pushing and pulling harder, faster. Roadhog had to stop leaning on the counter now or he’d hurt his back so he pulled Junkrat almost (but not completely) off his erection and had to open his eyes to step forward a bit. Readjusting and seeing Junkrat’s face, flushed pink even under the soot, which was a bit smeared from stray tears- Roadhog decided not to close his eyes again. Maybe he liked seeing the younger man like that. Which he would normally shame himself for.
He took two steps to get his footing and leaned forward, pushing himself back into Junkrat’s mouth and making the little rat’s whole body fall back. If Roadhog didn’t have a firm grip on his head he would’ve completely fallen onto the floor. He didn’t care though, he couldn’t care, nothing like that was left in this mind. He just needed relief.
When he finally got that relief the whole world seemed to melt away as he gagged Junkrat one last time. He felt himself pour into the back of Junkrat’s throat. His whole body tensed up and then suddenly relaxed. This was the dopamine he needed. No more frustration, no more guilt, in these moments of quiet all that negative feeling melted away in a swirl of color in his mind. Until the drop, which always came shortly after. It was time to think about how ashamed he should be for using a man 20 years younger than him like a sex toy.
Roadhog pulled both his hands out of blond hair and sat down on the floor, leaning against the counter again he still felt satisfied. He was waiting for the pang of guilt. He didn’t want to look at Junkrat, so he only felt the disconnect from his lips and heard the stumble of metal limbs on the floor. Roadhog just stared at the peeling green wallpaper, his eyes tracing the cracks in it and studying the gross yellow behind. He heard Junkrat cough once or twice, small coughs, like he tried to swallow and it went down the wrong pipe. Not like his usual obnoxious hacking.
Then. And then.. he felt pressure on his thighs again, Junkrat had crawled over soundlessly to place both his hands on Roadhog again. He looked at Junkrat finally, expecting to hear some sort of snarky comment or something too flirty that would just piss him off all over again.
But Junkrat was just looking at him, he looked.. dizzy? Lost in thought? The little fucker wasn’t really known for thinking so it was a weird look on him. He was known for talking.
He finally said,
“Did that take care of ya?” he lazily laid his head down on Roadhog’s stomach, “Feel better?”
What was happening. This isn’t right. That’s not how he acts, he wouldn’t say that.
Roadhog woke up suddenly with a sharp inhale, which caused him to choke on air. He sleeps in his mask, never bothers taking it off, hates his malformed face and the filtered air is better for his now-weak lungs. He didn’t want to cough too loud so he just held it and clumsily reached for a canister he had next to the mattress on the floor.
Deep breath in, deep breath out.
Great, he can breathe again. Now to deal with his... other problem.
He remembered every second of his nightmare, like with all his nightmares. When’s the last time he just had a normal dream? Maybe he just never remembered them. He doesn’t bother lifting the sheet, he just puts a palm on the crotch of his briefs for a moment- just what he expected, hard and wet. Once again it seems a mouth to use is what he needs.
Pervert. Selfish freak. Disgusting. He’s just your friend- your boss. He’s two times younger than you, get a grip. You shouldn’t even call him a friend. You don’t deserve self indulgence.
He looks over to Junkrat’s mattress. They’d been camping out in an abandoned house for a little while, just a few floors of wood and a roof over their heads between jobs. Finding two mattresses was a score, not to mention the giant stuffed bear they stole so Junkrat would stop humping Roadhog in his sleep, fuckin freak. And there he was, snoring softly and clinging tightly to that stuffed bear, his sheet kicked off at some point. His pale skin was exposed save for those stupid torn up cargo shorts that were always a little too big for him. He had faint scars on his whole body, you wouldn’t be able to tell if you weren’t looking for them under all that soot. A modest peppering of moles somehow never got lost in the grime. And his distinct tan lines from the harness he always wears… Roadhog watched his back move as he breathed in his sleep. He could see the ribs on his side.
Roadhog quickly looked away, he didn’t want to imagine anything disgusting watching the younger man sleep.
He turns the opposite way and stands up, the wood beneath him creaking under his weight. The mattress he’d been sleeping on was already taking a new, permanent shape. He slunk to the small bathroom, not even bothering to switch on the lantern they had put in there, he preferred to intentionally imagine disgusting things in the dark.
Let’s just get this over with.
Another successful heist! Just another awesome day in the life of Jamison “Junkrat” Fawkes, and of course his partner in crime, his fearsome bodyguard- Roadhog. In Junkrat’s superlative opinion, Roadhog did too much work on these jobs. Not that blowing stuff up was easy, no, that’s a common misconception though. But once the whole “mayhem and chaos” part was done, Roadhog did everything else. All the organizing and counting and organizing some more and then counting some more. Supply runs and carrying junk and more junk and sometimes carrying Junkrat- which was fun, for Junkrat anyway. Maybe it’s just because he’s a little stupid (don’t tell anyone) but he could never really tell if his ‘fearsome bodyguard’ enjoyed any of these tasks. He wondered at least once a day why the hell Roadhog sticks around. He barely talks, just grunts, complains sometimes, scolds Junkrat for… well just about anything. That anxiety wasn’t so awesome.
He hopped up onto the roof of the beat up car they were using to transport the money from their latest heist. The car didn’t actually work, just floated with that magic-y graviti-whatsit stuff Junkrat saw all the time. Made cars wayyy easier to push, some real unlucky bloke just left this one in the outback. Roadhog had one big hand on the roof of it as he reached into the back seat and started taking stock.
The aluminum was cold and hard against Junkrat’s ribs, but he was always aching in uncomfortable positions, just a fact of life for Jamison “Junkrat” Fawkes! Things always sound cooler when he adds his full name, at least that’s how he sees it.
He was bored already,
“Roadie are you done yet?”
“Only just started” was the low, muffled response.
“Yeh but I’m bored! How come you always gotta do this part, what if you blew stuff up, an’ I counted stuff. Or actually what if you blew stuff up an’ I carried around a really big hook, what about that?”
Silence. Always the silence. More than once a day Junkrat wondered if Roadhog hated him all along, and was just waiting for a heist big enough to kill him for.
Roadhog pulled himself out of the car and Junkrat heard a bag he must’ve still been counting get set down, which made him quickly regret momentarily offering to count anything. He didn’t actually want to do that, stupid Junkrat, talking without thinking again.
Roadhog casually put his other hand on the roof, which made the whole car sink and sway a bit, he looked up at Junkrat who was just kicking his feet- well foot and peg. Junkrat didn’t hate the mask, but he sometimes wished he could see a little more emotion on his partner’s face. It was a powerful look he respected, like a sexy slasher from some old movie, but it was also hard to tell sometimes if Roadhog was looking at him or past him. So.. he stared back,
“What? What are you looking at?”
“…you’re cute”
“W-what did you just say?” What the hell did he just say? He must’ve heard the fucker wrong because Roadhog doesn’t say stuff like that. Roadhog says stuff like “shut up, rat” and “do you ever stop talking” and “that was a bad idea” that was what Roadhog was supposed to say now.
“Said you’re cute” he said it again, as if Junkrat didn’t hear him the first time. Which he did, he just couldn’t really believe it.
“Do you know who yer talkin’ to or is that gas finally getting to yer pig brain?” Junkrat stared into the shiny black windows that represented eyes on his partner’s mask.
“I know what I said”
“Yeh well real funny, mate, make fun of me all ya want- I’m a serious demolitions expert!”
“Not makin’ fun of you..” Roadhog was leaning close now, he was tall enough that his head was over the roof of the floating car, especially with his hands pulling it down.
Junkrat half wanted to kiss the mask, whatever stupid game Roadhog was trying to play, Junkrat would win it. Then he’d see! He’s not just a stupid kid. He’s not cute. He’s an expert! A demolition expert! A tragically unrecognized genius! A shining star in the world of explosive engin- the leather mask touched his nose and cut off his train of thought.
“I like you” the sound rumbled through Junkrat’s bones.
What. What's happening? This isn’t funny.
“I uh, I like you too, mate. Um, a little close there.. Roadie” Junkrat heard himself respond, “you’re touching me with the mask”
Silence. Always silence, unmoving boulder of a man as imposing as ever, Junkrat knew he should want to scramble away- even if it meant falling off the car. For some reason though, he wants to stay this close. The leather smelled weird.. he kind of liked it.
“You wanna come down here and touch more?” Junkrat could feel the vibrations of the deep voice coming out of the mask. He laughed nervously and quickly scrambled to at least sit up,
“Yer talkin’ weird, stop bein’ all lovey- it ain’t like you. Aren’t ya gonna yell at me about interruptin’ yer work or whatever?”
Suddenly one of the giant hands grabbed him and dragged him off the roof of the car, a blur of being quickly manhandled- no use resisting anyway. Besides, he always kind of liked it… Junkrat was thrown onto his back into the back of the car, his head landing on bags of cash. A hand was pushing down on his chest to keep him in place and the other had a loose grip on his left (non-peg) leg.
“Not messin’ around, Rat, I like you …I want you.”
Junkrat was worked up from the rush of being shoved around, he heard himself giggle hysterically. His legs were spread apart and if he was getting as hard as he felt he was, it was undoubtedly noticeable.
They’d fucked before, well- maybe not fucked, but they’d helped each other out. Relieving tensions.. friends help friends in need. That’s how Junkrat always thought of it. This was a completely different energy though. Junkrat felt the hand on his chest move up gently to graze his neck with a finger,
“Say it back, say you’re mine” Roadhog’s voice filled the car. He was perfectly framed by the open door, the wide empty blue sky barely visible behind his towering silhouette.
Junkrat didn’t think at all and heard words fall out of his mouth, “I love you! I’m yours!” he laughed again, struggling to focus on anything but the bliss of being touched and talked to like this.
Roadhog dragged his hand down Junkrat’s torso again, and then farther down. He wedged his thumb under the waistbands of Junkrat’s shorts and boxers, the heavy pressure on his lower abdomen was making Junkrat feel warm inside.
The rat watched eagerly as Roadhog felt up the side of his leg with his other hand, finally resting on his hip and then pulling at his shorts. His shorts and boxers slipped off his skinny body easily, barely getting caught on his peg leg (which was a bit longer than his other leg). Roadhog didn’t bother pulling them from where they hung around his ankle.
Junkrat couldn’t look away, even being so embarrassingly stripped nude- they were technically in public, right? The angle Junkrat had of looking up at the huge man was making him feel a little scared, the sort of fear you have on a rollercoaster- you know you could die but it’s exciting, you want more, you want to scream. It just made him harder. Roadhog’s massive body was casting a shadow in the already dim back seat of the car, mostly it was his arm in view, his hand still pushing down as if to stop Junkrat from squirming. Which Junkrat realized he hadn’t yet done.
He weakly tried to pull his body closer to Roadhog, making pathetic sounds only half-unintentionally,
“I wanna be closer, c’mon!”
Roadhog just grunted in response.
“Let’s get to it, Hoggy!” Junkrat was holding on to the off-color seats of the dinged up car, he wanted attention on his crotch but Roadhog was just staring at him.
“You didn’t say please” Roadhog’s voice once again filling the entire car, there’s something strangely gentle about it. He’s careful as he leans in and reaches past the folded passenger seat to click something up front. Roadhog’s stomach is pressed against his cock and he can’t help but giggle at the contact. The car powers off and falls to the dirt ground with a soft thud, the coin in the back seat jingling along.
Now both of Roadhog’s hands grab onto Junkrat by the torso and pull him out of the car again,
“On the move, huh mate? I kinda liked being surrounded by money though” Junkrat laughed nervously. He was quickly but carefully set onto the trunk of the car,
“Sorry.. I don’t fit in there” he said it so sincerely, leaning over Junkrat and breathing heavily, the rat could feel his stomach fat pressing down on his cock again, this teasing is so unfair.
“You smell good”
“Geez you’re just as much a freak as I am, you smell terrible” Junkrat grabbed Roadhog’s face (well, mask) with both hands, “I love it! Ya smell like leather and sweat and- and you’re leaning down on me meat, Roadie, stop teasin’ me!” he wanted to pull the mask off, the impulsive thought was terrifying.. exciting. What would his monster of a partner do to him if he did something that stupid? He was trying to focus to stop himself from being so easily aroused, but he could only think of more arousing things.
“But I like teasing you, I like when you get frustrated” he felt Roadhog tense and breath in deeply so his stomach would expand and crush the smaller man, he laughed his deep laugh and that too was movement on Junkrat’s dick. Junkrat just covered his face with his arms and whimpered with a smile. He couldn’t think, which wasn’t usually a problem but this time he couldn’t manage to say anything. He was embarrassed but he loved the feeling, so similar to fear but it made him giggle stupidly. The aluminum of the car was warm against his back already.
Junkrat reached up to grab the mask again, he let his fingers graze the edges where it was pressed against Roadhog’s real face. The skin was burning warm, dry, with scruffy hairs prickling his fingertips.. did Roadhog shave? Junkrat had never seen the mask come off, he’d never really thought about if his bodyguard had to shave. This was one of those times he wished so deeply that he didn’t have a stupid hunk of metal for an arm, he wanted to feel rough skin with both his hands. He let his fingers curl slowly under the mask, he still felt that impulse to just tear it off, he was only being slow on account of internally debating if the injuries would be worth it to see his face finally. Injuries would be worth it, he quickly decided, but he didn’t want to lose the chance to have sex for the first time in a while. It wouldn’t be worth it to lose that, no.
He hooked his metal leg around Roadhog, which made the bigger man jolt from the cold. The small movement was enough to get a better grip on the underside of the mask,
“Quit it” Roadhog finally said. His mask was tied tightly at the back of his head, it wouldn’t come off if you just tugged on it. Junkrat knew that in the back of his mind.
“Aw but I wanna see ya! Won’t you take it off for me?” he whined, “mate, you get to see my dick so it’s only fairsies”
This got him a low groan in response, which he could assume indicated Roadhog was actually considering it. This excited him. He couldn’t help but squirm to show it, the friction on his dick making his thoughts go fuzzy again. He was getting used to the contact by now though, he needed more.
“How about,” Roadhog‘s massive hand tenderly touched Junkrat’s, and then grasped both his arms and moved them back and up, pinning them above the singed blond hair “after I fuck you.”
Junkrat knew it wasn’t really a question, there was no debating it. No arguing or fighting it, he didn’t want to. He couldn’t really move in protest, completely pinned and Roadhog barely had to exert himself. He loved it.
“You’re gonna fuck me?” Junkrat giggled loudly. Knowing that he couldn’t physically resist was spinning in his mind, making him dizzy with lust. The tight grip on his arms was starting to hurt a little.
“What did you think I took your pants off for, idiot” the insult felt loving for once, “just to look at you?”
“Maybe.. I am quite dashing, I wouldn’t blame ya for wanting a good long look” Junkrat teased, trying to wiggle again just to feel how physically helpless he is.
Roadhog grunted, that familiar low guttural sound of satisfaction, “all mine”
He let go of Junkrat’s arms which made him frown dramatically. This immediately turned to his usual wide smile when he watched Roadhog stand up properly again and start to mess with his belt. The sound of the metal buckle clinking around was like fireworks in Junkrat’s mind. He watched Roadhog’s pants drop and giggled as he saw the bulge in his underwear. He could only make more noises watching Roadhog pull his cock out with one hand.
“Quit snickerin’, freak” again the insult felt sarcastic, somehow full of love.
“I can’t help it, you’re so handsome, all of you! I wish you’d let me see your face!”
“After this” Roadhog closed the distance again, lining himself up with Junkrat’s hole.
“Oh I’m so excited!” Junkrat leaned up to stare at Roadhog’s thick, uncut cock “really fuck me up, mate, fuckin’ skewer me!”
Roadhog’s hand met Junkrat’s chest again as he laughed, pushing the rat down onto his back again, “I love when you say shit like that” every syllable spoken by that voice was a deep sound, somehow quiet and soft but Junkrat felt it all in his stomach every time.
“I love you” he heard himself say again.
Roadhog made a rumbling sound almost like purring as he finally pushed himself inside, “love you too”
Junkrat moaned and reflexively covered his face with his arms again.
Even just a bit of Roadhog inside him, going slow, he could physically feel coherent thought melting into ecstasy. He felt positively fucking giddy. He felt like he was forgetting something. Like something was deeply off. But it didn’t matter. He could only focus on the euphoric pain pushing into him. He’d had Roadhog’s fingers inside him before, but this was a whole new girth.
Getting to the hilt, Roadhog’s stomach fat pressed against Junkrat’s dick again. All that weight against his pelvis, against his thighs, it made him feel warm in his chest. Something sweeter and hotter than blood or lust was pumping behind his ribcage. Roadhog’s hand was still pressed onto him, he wondered if his partner could feel how fast his heartbeat was going.
When Roadhog started to pull out, he momentarily feared he was just going to leave entirely. Rational thought wasn’t exactly standard for Junkrat. He felt himself wrap his legs around the sides of his larger partner, as much as he could reach to push him closer, deeper. To keep him there, as close as they could possibly be to one another.
Of course it didn’t keep his large bodyguard in place. Nothing Junkrat could ever do would stop a man that strong, his legs were pushed apart again as Roadhog slowly pulled out, pushing his hand down on Junkrat’s chest. Junkrat’s wide ribcage accommodated for Roadhog’s hand, but the pressure on his lungs hurt in a way that wasn’t fun- at least not in this moment.
He felt Roadhog’s other hand release his wrists above his head. His thick fingers slid to Junkrat’s torso, he couldn’t help but feel like Roadhog was being careful as both of his hands gently gripped Junkrat’s protruding hip bones.
There was a pause. With his hands free Junkrat grinned and playfully walked his hands up Roadhog’s arms and gripped the fat on his biceps, “keep going, mate” he didn’t mean to sound so desperate. But Roadhog’s labored breathing was pushing stomach fat against his achingly hard dick, every pause was torture. Or something else, torture didn’t sound so bad, maybe.
He couldn’t see it but he knew Roadhog smiled at Junkrat’s neediness. The grip on his hips tightened and he was lifted off the car a bit as Roadhog pushed back into him, not as carefully this time. Wide thumbs dug into the sides of his stomach, his pale skin bent inward under the pressure, and he could feel somewhere near them- inside him- Roadhog’s whole girth sliding in and out in short rough motions.
It drove Junkrat crazy to feel so full and then so empty, and then so full again. Tearing his half lidded eyes from the leather mask and looking down at his gut he could swear he saw it buldge in response to a deep thrust. The angle hurt his neck and he had to look back up at Roadhog’s face again.
The head of Roadhog’s cock hit somewhere just right that it made Junkrat moan loudly and tense up to keep himself from potentially finishing too soon, he didn’t want this to ever end. For the second he could think coherently he wondered if Roadhog would keep going, keep using him, even if he came early. And then he wondered why in the hell that felt so good all the sudden.
Roadhog let out a groan when his skinny friend tensed, he clearly wasn’t expecting it.
“Oh do that again, fuck me, it feels so good right there” Junkrat held Roadhog’s arms tighter, almost pulling himself up unthinkingly.
Roadhog only grunted as he slid his hands up to the rat’s ribcage again and pulled him up to his face, the expulsion of breath from his mask made Junkrat dizzy and he weakened his grip on Roadhog. He felt a hand wrap around his left knee, the thumb pushing into his inner-thigh encouraged the drunk feeling. Roadhog was sweating. Junkrat could smell it, the sun was hot on his back and Junkrat wanted to lick it. He didn’t even realize he was seconds away from burying his mouth against neck fat until suddenly he was pushed back onto the car again.
Roadhog hit that same spot perfectly the second his back hit aluminum. It hurt but he loved it, Roadhog was leaning over him now, the mask still so close to his face. He weakly opened his eyes to look into the black lenses as he moaned.
“Yeah?” was all Roadhog said, thrusting into Junkrat rougher still. There was a bead of sweat running slowly down from Roadhog’s shoulder and neck, just above his chest. Junkrat didn’t think at all as he leaned in and licked it, he felt his right arm (what was left of it) reach to wrap around Roadhog’s neck, this felt better on his shoulder blades so his other arm decided to move the same way. He felt himself pulling Roadhog down, but of course he didn’t move. When had the licking turned to kissing? Or was he biting? He tasted dirt.
“I love you” Roadhog said, as quiet as his voice could be.
Junkrat giggled hysterically against skin, “I love you!” he moaned into Roadhog’s shoulder.
“I love you!” he heard himself say it again.
“I love you!”
“I love you!”
“I love you I love you I love you!”
He couldn’t think to regret saying something so weird to his partner, or soak in that his partner had said it to him. His mind just felt like explosions of color over and over, as he repeated the three words between moans.
Junkrat’s dick was sandwiched between his own gut and so much of Roadhog’s stomach fat, as Roadhog leaned over him every thrust moved soft tattooed skin against his erection. He was so close, he didn’t care anymore, Roadhog kept hitting that same spot inside him. It was too much, he wanted to explode.
Then he woke up. The crickets were so loud he briefly wondered how he had managed to sleep at all. What woke him so suddenly? He found himself wrapped around the giant stuffed teddy bear they stole recently.
It all came back to him. Every detail of his… dream. He grimaced at his own memories (something he was used to). More like a nightmare, he thought. Itching for it so bad I’d dream of fucking my best mate? He wanted to feel disgusted with himself, it’s not like they hadn’t done sexual shit in real life. But nothing like that nightmare. No “I love you” from a big fat sweaty pig-masked man can be interpreted as not-gay.
Junkrat felt like crying. He buried his face in the back of the plush and unfortunately remembered hearing the string of “I love you”s that came out of his own mouth too. His dick twitched once. He wanted to cry.
I’m just pent up. I just need to meet a girl who’ll lower her standards enough for me. I don’t like sweaty blokes. I like ladies. I’d like it if a lady wanted to use me like that.. my brain was just, filling in space. With the only stupid bastard I ever talk to anymore. Doesn’t matter. Can’t trust anybody else. Never gonna have real sex again, stupid Jamison.
Junkrat tried to focus on the harsh noise of the crickets to keep his thoughts from hurting him. They were so loud at night, it was easy to get lost in the sound. He heard the buzz of a thousand other bugs in the outback. He focused, trying to pick them apart, he remembered for a moment that he used to be able to name a lot of different bugs. When was that? He lost the memory again when he heard his own breathing, and realized what was missing.
He craned his neck over the giant plush to look at his bodyguard’s mattress. He wasn’t there. Junkrat felt his heartbeat before he heard it loud in his ears. An irrational fear was creeping up his legs, hair by hair.
He tried to focus, to shake the thought off. He could hear Roadhog’s breathing. But it was muffled, even more than what the mask does. It was deep, labored breath, like he was trying to keep quiet. His low voice made every sound he made into a loud one. So Junkrat could hear it. Roadhog was alive, he didn’t die or get taken or.. suddenly decide to leave the rat in the dust.
It was coming from the shitty bathroom. The floor was lit up well enough from the full moonlight angled just right. He could see the crack in the door. It didn’t close all the way, on account of only being on one hinge. It was through that crack that Junkrat was able to hear his large friend. When he focused on Roadhog’s breathing every other sound seemed to disappear. Except.. the sound of skin on skin. It sounded wet.
Junkrat felt hot in the face as he realized what he was listening to. He pictured it in his mind without even wanting to, or trying to. He doesn’t think of stuff like that! Well.. it wouldn’t be gay just to watch, would it? He pushed his face into the plush again and tried to shake off the thought. He felt his cock throb again, his boxers were probably soaked, what a freak. Wet from imaging a fat man in a leather mask desperately pumping his meat. God he had such huge hands, what would they look like around Junkrat’s meat?
The plush against his face was wet just under his eyes. He listened to the breathing and the wet sounds and tried to shut his brain off as he slowly bucked his hips into the plush. The small movement made the mattress react with sound- he heard Roadhog grunt but the wet sounds didn’t stop. Junkrat decided not to move any more. He felt himself falling back asleep.
He’d deal with his hard-on in the morning. If he got lucky Roadhog would deal with it for him. And by the morning he’ll surely forget all about that stupid wet dream. Or nightmare.
Wet nightmare.