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Roadhog inhaled deeply, broad shoulders shaking and closed fists trembling at his sides. Junkrat chattered on, seemingly oblivious to his partner’s brooding mood. His mouth had been running away nonstop with tasteless puns and jokes for the last half hour. Each joke so far having something to do with pigs and ending with his own loud, obnoxious laughter.
“If ya like that one chec-” An impatient, sharp snarl cut off the rest of the joke.
“Shut up.”
“Aww, is that a smile I see?” The blond teased with wide eyes and a smile stretched wider.
If anyone questioned his sanity, they no longer did. Clearly, the radiation had left him unhinged if he persisted in aggravating his larger partner. A painful screech made heads turn in the crowded cafeteria. Abruptly, the giant stood towering over the seated figures in the room. The metal stool continued to scrape pitifully across the floor from the strain of his weight. His gait was quick-paced, and his shoulders still visibly shaking as he walked away. It took a moment for the smaller junker to process the absence of his partner, staring blankly at the space the man had once sat in.
“Huh? Roadie, come on, mate, don’t be like that!” Junkrat hollered, hobbling behind his bodyguard’s trail around the corner and out of sight. Once both Australians left the teeming space, everyone let loose a breath of relief. Some silently prayed for a quick death of the mad bomber. Around the corner, with both Junkers walking at a brisk pace, the mountain of a man stopped abruptly, causing Junkrat to crash into his fleshy back, bounce backwards, and fall on his ass.
“Never know when to shut up, do ya?” He complained as he turned around to see Junkrat getting up from the floor. He didn’t bother offering help. “Always running your trap into trouble.”
“That’s why I got ya Roadie.” Junkrat countered with an infuriating smirk,” To keep me safe and sound.”
“Not your babysitter Rat.” He huffed, arms crossed, his prominent figure looming menacingly over the other. A few years ago, that might have worked, but Rat knew when he was seriously pissed. “Your bodyguard”
“And partner!” Junkrat chimed in with all giggles and fidgeting. “Which means I can make all the pig puns without fear of re-pork-ussions.”
That was the breaking point, and Roadhog couldn’t stop himself. He let out a booming laughter that left him breathless and gut jiggling with the shake of his shoulders.
***
He made the mistake of underestimating Junkrat the first time around.
Jamison “Junkrat” Fawkes had a hefty bounty on his head for some scrape he found in the omnium. Of course, he wasn’t stupid enough to believe that. Whatever the man had seen was anything but scrap if he was getting paid so generously to bring him back alive. Though he wasn’t interested in what it was as long as he got paid. He eventually tracked him on the outskirts of Junker-Town, where his target holed himself up in a cave like an actual fucking rat. He considered charging in and forcibly taking him. At least until he saw a landmine go off and blow another bounty hunter to clumps of flesh and thick blood. The sly bastard actually planted mines and explosives, which Roadhog had to admit was resourceful.
The Enforcer decided the best course of action was to wait patiently for his prey to show itself. Every living thing needs something to drink or eat, and he was sure there wasn’t much of either down there. He expected him to only be there for about 5 days at most. Five days that dragged on to eight days. Eight long days of desert sun and dry air for his weak lungs. Just when he was considering a change in tactics, the man himself in question came out of his hiding hole. He spotted Roadhog, waved, and started limping towards him at a steady pace. The gray-haired man felt the hair on his neck stand and waited cautiously in place, mindful of the landmines. Men like Junkrat don’t show themselves unless they are absolutely sure they are going to win.
Once he was within grabbing distance, he snatched him up in his large paws, yellow scrap-gun pointed at the blond. Bloodshot eyes framed under thick eyebrows widened considerably at the end of his weapon. This was the first time he laid eyes on his target. The description of him is surprisingly accurate. He was covered in what he assumed was dirt, and his blond hair was a matted mess. Patches of the golden locks were missing, making him look older than he probably was. His robotic limbs painted an atrocious orange, rust covering almost as much as the horrendous paint job.
“Hold on mate! Hold on!” Junkrat tittered nervously. “Got to be more gentle with me unless ya wanna become bacon”. The lunatic pointed at the vest of grenades strapped to himself and a big spiked tire on his back. “Ya know by now they want me for my treasure, right? So that means ya need me alive to get the location right?”
“Get to the point.” He squeezed the toothpick’s neck a bit tighter to emphasize his point. He waited long enough.
“Not a good idea. This thing will blow both of us up if I die!” The scrawny man cried out, slapping his wrist in protest. The Enforcer eyed the man trying to call his bluff. When he didn’t sense any, a thin veil of sweat broke on his thick neck as the situation unfolded. “If ya kill me, anything within a range is gonna be another stain in the sand.”
“You’ll get killed.” He reasoned, not that there was much reasoning in the Outback.
“Gonna happen either way mate!” He let out a string of high-pitched cachinnations, lanky body jittering.
His target was right and they both knew it. Once the information about his treasure was extracted, they wouldn’t need him. Dead men don’t utter a word.
“So what’s your angle?” He growled, finally snapping. This man was clearly not worth the trouble for the amount of money he was being paid.
"Roight, roight." He held his hands out in a consoling manner. “What I’m saying is ya should be my bodyguard!”
“...”
An unsettling quiet could be heard over the rustling of the winds and Roadhog’s heavy breathing. Just when the knot in Junkrat’s stomach was becoming too painful, Roadhog gave a reaction. He let out booming guffaws of laughter that echoed into the desert. In all his years as an enforcer, never before has an offer so ludicrous been suggested. His warped lifestyle made such a grotesque situation that much more hilarious.
“I’m serious here!” The wiry man screeched, face flushed in mortification, limbs twisting and squirming in his grasp. “Be bloody stupid not to pighead!” Roadhog growled and gave the blond a good shake. The last thing this brat should be doing is opening his rot.
“Why?”
“50/50 profits.” Junkrat squawked out in between the shaking. The shaking stopped at once at the word profits.
“Talk, but make it quick.” The stick of man gave a loopy smile in victory before speaking.
“See with my brains and (Roadhog rolled his eyes behind his mask) skill and your brawn and skill, we can get one over almost anyone!” He cackled until Roadhog tightened his grip. “My bombs are top-notch, and I’ve been able to keep even ya, The Enforcer of the Outback, back for this long.”
The kid was making a lot of sense for someone who had a crazed look in his eyes and a harness of grenades strapped to him. Maybe the kid was on to something that could benefit them both. Either way, he had a feeling in his gut he would want to keep this mess of a man alive a bit longer, although that probably had to do more with the grenade vest. It had been a while since anyone had been ballsy or crazy enough to pull one over him.
“That means ya’ll be the partial owner of the most sought-after treasure in all the Outback.” The man prattled on when he realized the larger man was actually considering his offer. ”Plus any heists I‘m thinking of pulling off.”
“And what are you getting out of this?” He was suspicious of such a generous deal. The last generous deal landed him in his current situation.
“Loot and more importantly, protection of course!” The lanky man retorted, his scruffy eyebrows furrowing and face souring. “Treasure isn’t any good to me if I’m dead!”
Roadhog hummed as though he was contemplating the offer. Truth be told, he was interested once the word ‘profit’ came into play. Roadhog didn’t speak much. He wasn’t the talkative type, but he said money, and this man was clearly speaking Roadhog’s language.
“Deal.”
“Alroight!” The man whooped much to Roadhog’s displeasure. He opened his fist and let the lanky man fall face-first to the unforgiving dirt. Junkrat quickly scrambled to his single foot and peg leg, spitting out dirt. He licked his teeth in an attempt to free clumps stuck in his gums. Once he was satisfied, he grinned,pieces of wet dirt stuck to his bottom teeth in a disgusting display.
“Name’s Jamison “Junkrat” Fawkes.” He stuck out his mechanical hand. His skinny frame hunched over considerably.
“Roadhog.” He grunted before turning in the direction of his bike. The other junker just dropped his hand with a shrug.
“Aw, come on mate, what’s your real name?” The smaller Junker pried, already grating on his newly acquainted bodyguard’s nerves with that shrill voice. “Don’t think yor ma named ya that, did she?”
“Get one thing straight here, Rat. This is a business partnership. We ain’t mates.” He growled, hand reaching back towards the other. It was better now to set up boundaries than later. Fewer complications down the road.
“All roight, all roight ya big fart. Not mates got it. Got it.” Junkrat agreed, taking a step back. Titters as jittery as the rest of him.
“Good.” He huffed in annoyance, attention directed once again to getting to his bike. He pretended not to see the hurt look on the rodent’s face.
***
“So what is your relationship with the big guy?” The Brazilian asked as he took another bite from his bagel. The blonde was sitting next to him, scribbling something onto crumpled paper. Bony shoulders draping over his work from prying eyes. He swallowed before continuing. “You bros or just partners in crime?”
The healer had heard from Hana about the tense transaction between the Junkers a week ago. A consternated Junkrat had thrown a huge fit when he found out about the separate mission Roadhog had been assigned. He started spewing insults and threats of blowing up the base until his bodyguard placed his massive hand over his back and shook his head, silencing him with a single “Jamie”. The bomber deflated immediately and stomped back to their quarters like a temperamental child put on a time-out. Since then, the smaller Junker was quieter than usual for the following days, although there have been more accidents involving small explosions around the base. The cameras around the area seemed to be glitching suspiciously.
“We’re best mates and partners.” Junkrat preened, posture slightly straightened. The shorter man looked skeptically at the bomber. Not much was known about the two’s history and relationship aside from their crime sprees. They tended to stick close to each other and didn’t bother interacting with teammates outside of combat. Although the big guy seemed cold and distant to his partner at times, telling him to shut up when he made one too many puns. Lucio had decided to get to know them better since they were working on the same operations. He chose Junkrat to start off with since he was the least intimidating of the two candidates.
“How’d you two meet?” He inquired politely, trying to appear nonchalant in his curiosity.
“He was hired by some gang to come and get me for information. Then I hired him to be my bodyguard.” Pencil sketching rapidly on the yellowing paper. “Been setting things amok since.” He cackled. “Been lots of fun. Seen and done things that I thought I’d never do.”
“How long have you guys been together?”
“Known each other for three years, but been together for two, I think.” He scratched his head absentmindedly. “S’nice having company that won’t kill ya for a trinket.” He rolled the chewed-up pencil between wiry fingers, smile thinning out. “Wonder what he’s seeing now.” He muttered, though Lucio wasn’t sure it was directed at him.
Before he could ask anymore questions on what he meant by that, the blond sprang from his seat and cried out. “Hog!” Sure enough, the man stood there at the doorway, large body having leaned down a bit. The blonde Australian traveled across the room more promptly than anyone with a peg leg should be able to.
“What took ya so long?” Junkrat demanded just a pitch away from whining.
The older man just shrugged, absently scratching his stomach. “Took too damn long.” Another scratch. A pleased look came onto Junkrat’s face.
“Aww, good to know you missed me, ya big lug! Can’t stand to be away either, huh?” The anarchist latched onto his thick arm, his smile twisted unsettlingly wide. “Was a bit worried ya like being away, but I can tell ya love me too much to.” He bragged, practically draping his body against the giant’s.
When an enormous palm raised from Roadhog’s side, Lucio felt a shiver drip down his spine. Would the older man react violently to Junkrat’s affection? Instead, the hand went down to pat the blonde’s head.
“Brat.” The word mumbled not unkindly.
It almost sounded fond to the medic’s ears. Junkrat nuzzled closer at the positive attention, prompting Roadhog to chuckle. It was so alien to the cold, boisterous laughter he let out during battles. With his mask, it was hard to tell what the older man was feeling, but Lucio knew he was smiling, although he couldn’t really picture Roadhog doing so. “Let’s go Rat.”
“Roight! See ya mate, catch you later.” Junkrat promised the healer with a skip in his step as he walked away with Roadhog. The masked man gave him a nod of acknowledgement with his partner chattering rapidly, lanky body trembling with tangible excitement.
“Later man.” He waved, smiling at his teammate’s energetic spirit. He settled back, headphones set comfortably in place, focusing on the music’s deep bass. It wasn’t long into the song that he felt a light tap on his shoulder. He lowered his headphones and turned his head. Genji stood patiently behind him.
“What’s up man?” He greeted them easily; they weren’t close, although the Japanese man was friendly enough and helpful with operations. “Need something?”
“Sorry to disturb you, but have you seen Roadhog?”
“Yeah, why? Something wrong?” Concern setting in on reflex.
“No, nothing of immediate concern,” Genji reassured the healer. “Winston is looking for him. He didn’t debrief his statement for the mission.” Genji explained. “As soon as we departed, he wandered off. A considerable feat considering his size.”
***
It wasn’t surprising to learn that Rat hadn’t ever traveled around much. At first, they had ridden Hog’s motorcycle together out of necessity, but it was uncomfortable for both parties. There wasn’t a large variety of transportation to get across the desert. That had been more skin contact either one had had in years, not including fights. So the sidecar was a much-needed and welcome addition. Plus, it kept Junkrat and his grabby hands away from his ride.
The first few months were the hardest for the newly formed duo. There wasn’t much company out in the toxic wastelands, with trust being as rare as clean water. Now there was another living being at Roadhog’s side 24/7 to the point where it was almost unbearable. He didn’t know what kept him by the smaller man’s side besides the anticipation of the payoff. Which, in the end, he had to grudgingly admit was almost worth the constant hollering of the smaller man.
Hog had spent most of his Enforcer career solo, and suddenly having a partner to watch over wasn’t easy to adjust to. Adjusting to Junkrat was even harder. The silence Roadhog was once so accustomed to was now filled with the white noise of Junkrat’s nonsensical chattering. Even the silence that seemed to eat the space between Junkrat’s head was filled with Roadhog’s deep, lumbering breaths.
Junkrat himself seemed to forget about his presence half the time. He wanders off, muttering to himself. He never sat still, even in his sleep; he moved around too much, that is, when he slept. He usually took the night shifts, sometimes forgetting he was supposed to wake Hog up for his turn, and staying up all night. For all his remarks about being mates, he didn’t fully trust his newly appointed bodyguard. It was apparent in the shifty way he watched him and refused to take off his limbs for the first few weeks. As they got used to each other, he curled in when he slept. but never with his back towards him. His vest is always on, and his prosthetics are always within arm’s reach.
Sometimes they’d fight, usually Hog won. Although Junkrat wasn’t as big of a pushover as he initially thought, he fought tooth and nail until he was gasping for breath. It was as admirable as it was annoying. The smaller male’s sassy mouth and antics got a few good punches and slaps along the way. Still, the rat kept his promise and gave 50/50 of all profits of the heist. Even small ones, where all he could split was a measly bar. Hog figured it could be worse.
***
A pink cloth was unexpectedly shoved into his face. When he went to grab the said cloth, it was pulled back. He wasn’t surprised to see the guilty culprit holding the fabric; he knew it was his partner.
“Jamison.” He growled in annoyance.
“Isn’t it great Hog! Got one in just your size. Saw it and thought ya might like it.” The blond babbled on excitedly, ignoring the warning tone in Roadhog’s voice.
Hana and Lucio stood behind Jamie with bated breath. He had made quick friends with Hana. She was full of energy and bursting almost as much as Jamie was. Lucio was much more relaxed and had the most common sense of the trio. (Although they had appeared to be a bit turned off by the Junkers’ unfriendly Omnic attitudes, the topics relating to such were avoided.)
Now that the offending garment wasn’t being stuffed into his portholes, Roadhog could see it was a shirt. An enormous cotton candy pink shirt. On the front was a cute cartoon piggy face, snout, beady black eyes, and all. He reached out and examined the adorable item. The back had a cute curly tail. When he looked down, he saw the other junker’s endearing look. It was hard to get civilian clothes for his large frame.
“Don’t make them like they do downunder now, do they?” The blond junker used to say playfully.
The gesture was making his breathing funny and his gut warm. Suddenly, the extra pair of eyes on his bare skin prickled, and his face felt too warm in his pig mask. His tongue sat heavily behind thick lips. He scratched his stomach in his flustered state, resisting the urge to cross his arms. He grunted a thanks and walked away with the shirt carefully in hand.
Once he was out of earshot, the questions began.
“You sure he liked it? He didn’t seem that happy...” The Korean asked. She shot a look at Lucio, who in turn shrugged.
“What? Naw mate, he loved it, couldn’t you tell?” He chattered excitedly, his face flushed red. “Left him speechless!” Another fit of giggles spills from the blonde.
“If you say so...” Hana mumbled doubtfully, turning back to her phone to answer a text.
***
They got caught once in Australia for a misdemeanor. Although they had left on a moment’s notice, Junkrat insisted they take their mugshots. Any attempt to get Roadhog’s mask was met with a threatening growl and huff. Eventually, they decided to just take him with the mask, biding their time until they could get one of his actual faces. Too bad Junkrat lost interest in the cops and robbers game, deciding they wasted enough time and let loose one grenade to escape. No matter what they wore, whether they had rags or suits, he couldn’t trust people. Now all he had was Roadhog.
“They forgot about us Hog. Left us for dead out in the Outlands.” Orange eyes darting across the room and fingers tapping. Gawky giggles pour out, hands reaching up to pull and pinch at skin. Hog would slap his hand away if he tugged at his remaining hair. “Forgot about Australia! Well, maybe it’s about bloody time we reminded those drongos!”He started hopping in place, a tremor scaling his body in anticipation. “How do you feel about setting this fuckin world ablaze! Make everything like the Outback so they can get a taste!?”
Junkrat cackled madly, finally unveiling the madness that shimmers under. He jumped a bit when Roadhog’s gravelly laughter abruptly joined in. The jump only made the grey-haired man laugh harder. The sound shook his bones and left his breath a bit uneven. It had been so long since he laughed this hard and it felt too good to stop.
Thus from that moment on the duo set off on an international crime spree. Where the world owed them everything, and they owed the world nothing. They switched from living like kings to peasants while on the run. Some days, they feasted; other days, they ate from cans. Junkrat decided that all he needed was Roadhog.
***
They stared in bewilderment at the room. It was like a bomb of paradoxes went off in the spacious quarters. As expected, Junkers’ weapons hung on the walls and littered on the floor. Metal bolts and nuts were scattered across a metal work desk, and smiley faces were crudely spray-painted on grey walls. There also hung a few posters from unfamiliar bands and pig stickers, which were normal for them. Then there were unexpectedly adorably sweet, cute assortments. The stacked pachimaries in particular seemed out of place in the messy room. Their button eyes stared at them from their spots with innocent smiles.
“Ohhhh, this pachimari is a rare limited edition.” Hana squealed as she ran over to pick one up and pressed the pastel blob to her chest. “Where did you get it Jamie?!”
“Careful might be rigged to blow up,” Lucio said half jokingly. He raised an eyebrow in the junker’s general direction upon picking one up and examining it.
“S’not mine, Hoggie likes collecting them.” Jamie snorted. “Don’t know why. Creepy little buggers.”
The healer promptly dropped one, like the other man had confirmed that they were rigged. “Whoa, the big guy owes all these pachimaries?”
“Yep, won’t let me touch them sometimes. Thinks I’ma blow them up or something.” Jamie grumbled, pout set, and shoulders more hunched in his displeasure.
“Did you?” The Korean gasped in horror.
“It was a mistake, and I didn’t know he actually liked them!” He whined.
Lucio just shook his head as he bent to pick up the misplaced plushie. The healer finally took a look around the room. There was a stack of adorable Post-it notes in piggy shapes, black nail polish, and a pink brush. A few dainty teacups and dishes with floral patterns were left around. It was funny picturing those petite objects in the large palms of the Junkers. In the corner was a single large semi-made bed.
“Hey Jamie, where’s your bed?”
“Right there.” Willowy finger pointed at the messy mattress.
“Uh, where does Roadhog sleep?”
“In the bed.” Jamie looked at both of them like they had grown a pair of wings and proclaimed they were chickens.
“You share a bed?!” The mecha user exclaimed.
There was a tense moment where they all just stared at each other as though waiting for someone to crack first.
“Didn’t take the Hog to be a cuddler.” Lucio joked, immediately diffusing the awkward atmosphere.
“You and me both mate.”Jamie scoffed. “Though hugging him is like hugging one of those, but ten times better.” Giggles spilling from his lips as he pointed at the plushie in Hana’s arms.
“I can see it.” The pink gremlin nodded sagely.
The rest of the evening was spent with the trio making explosives. Well, mostly Jamie with Lucio providing work music and Hana looking over the stock. It wasn’t until they were almost done that the door swung open to reveal Roadhog.
“Aww, there’s my Hoggie Woggy,” The bomb expert cooed joyously. When he noticed the larger man scanning over their work area, he grinned broadly. “We’ve been planning on making some firecrackers.”
“...”
“S’not anything too bad!” Pale eyelashes fluttering and modest smiles playing on thin lips insisted. Roadhog narrowed his eyes behind the mask.
“Yeah, man, it’s just a prank!” Lucio wrapped his arm over bony, hunched shoulders and smiled excitedly. This did nothing to assure the man towering over them.
“Our followers are gonna love it!” Hana exclaimed, plushie still in her clutches. Roadhog turned to her, gaze immediately zoning in on the stuffed toy. “Oh, sorry, big guy.” She apologized, holding out the plushie; her reluctance to part with it was transparent.
Roadhog carefully cradled it in his hands without a word. The toy was dwarfed almost comically in his hands.
“You know… I can see you have a few of the same models. Although you’re missing some of the sets.” She bit her bottom lip in anticipation, rocking back and forth. “My fans are always giving me the same ones, and I don’t know what to do with them. I don’t like throwing them away. It doesn’t feel right, so I usually donate them anyway.”
“So?” His tone was dry with fake disinterest. Jamieson couldn’t hold back a titter at the exchange. The big lug had a weakness for cute things, not that Hana or Lucio knew that.
The small woman squared her shoulders, player mode on. “I’m gonna be straight with you. You have some I want, and I got a few you’re missing. How about a trade, Hoggie?”
Both stared down at each other until Hog just sighed. He wasn’t going to lose such a good deal over a staring contest. Although he was going to have a talk with Jamison about the use of pet names in front of the company.
“Fine.” He nodded in agreement, tossing the pachimari back into her waiting arms. The Korean fist pumped in victory.
“Oi why can’t I touch them?” His smaller partner complained.
Roadhog crossed his arms, huffing. “...”
“Was one time, mate, total accident,” He defended.
Roadhog let out another heavy sigh, exasperation steeping into his bones. A plushie was unceremoniously thrown at the blonde’s patchy head. He whooped gleefully and hugged the fluffy monstrosity to his chest.
***
The mission was supposed to be simple enough: get in, get out. So, naturally, of course, it didn’t turn out that way. It turned out to be a decoy, and they were blindly ambushed. He had momentarily lost sight of his smaller counterpart in the midst of fire and explosions. He knew Rat could take care of himself well enough, but that had been thirty minutes ago. They were running low on ammo and fighters. Lucio had been seriously injured sufficiently that he wasn’t able to join back in on the fighting. This left them without a medic and plenty of opposing fighters. Skinny bastard had luck on his side, but Roadhog knew it was only a matter of time before that luck ran out.
“FIRE IN THE HOLE!”
Hog heard the telling sound of an engine and the clank of chains around the corner. He followed the rambunctious guffaws echoing through the walls. There was Junkrat in all his glory, hair on fire and covered in soot from head to toe. That crazed look of anticipation and exhilaration when his traps and explosives were set off. The area around him had blood splattered and limbs a miss with five other men. He dove to shield his partner, wincing when he felt a few bullets lodge into his thick skin, some of the blood oozing out of his sides sluggishly.
“Holy shit mate!” He cried out wide with panic, soot-covered hands were waving frantically. gaunt body squirming. Both his fists were pounding onto the larger man’s chest in livid panic. “You don’t got any more gas you fat fuck! Get off!” He screamed over the fire of guns.
“No.” The giant’s hand goes down to shove the blonde’s head onto the floor. He aimed his scarp-gun in the enemy’s direction. He was rewarded with another bullet lodging in his shoulder before the firing stopped. The enemy started retreating. Whether it was because they got what they wanted or because they were overpowered, Roadhog didn’t care. He momentarily relaxed before he sensed a presence in the room. He looked to the side to see a black figure materialize from the shadows. He pushed Jamison behind his thick body, scrap-gun positioned and ready. He probably didn’t have enough scrap for much damage, but enough of a diversion for Junkrat to get away.
“Come on, Hoggie, don’t be a hero. It don’t suit ya.” He begged in a muffled voice, his voice cracking at the end with emotion. The nervous giggles grow more clangorous and discordant as his expression intensifies. He said nothing, just listened to his partner’s whimpers. The Reaper just observed them, watching Roadhog struggling to stay conscious and seeing Junkrat’s broken prosthetic.
“You have a very remarkable reputation, Roadhog The Enforcer. Not much to hint at for the compassionate type. So I have to ask, why don’t you just kill him?” Reaper rasped. “He seems like too much trouble if you ask me.”
Yeah, maybe a few years ago, he wouldn’t have thought twice about it. That was a few years ago, though, and this was now. If there was anything this life had taught him, it was not to linger with his skeletons for too long.
Instead of telling him that, Roadhog just gave a dry chuckle and shrugged, “Makes me laugh.” He let the scrap fire directly at the black smoke.
Soon, the smoke surrounded his vision, and he saw nothing but black.
***
He woke up in their room. His back was sore and his arms heavy. The lights were dimmed, and it smelled faintly of smoke.
“About time you woke up wanker.” A familiar voice spoke. He turned his head in the direction of the sound. Sitting doubled over himself was his Rat. The bags under his eyes seemed darker, but his eyes remained aglow with disquiet and trepidation. His hands clench and unclench, pausing to allow willowy fingers to continue restive motions.
“Jamie?” His throat felt dry.
“Yeah, it’s me. Who the fuck else? How’s your back?” The last question was said with a taint of concern in the tart tone.
“Hurts.”
“Serves you right ya heifer.” Words spat bitterly in a mocking tone.
Roadhog rolled his eyes. Of course, he’s still angry over that. “It’s my job.”
“Like hell it is!” He yelled, standing up. Arms crossing and uncrossed, foregoing the gesture for frantic waving. Orange, vivid eyes started tearing up. “Yor supposed to listen to me. I’m yor boss, ya cunt!”
“Come here.” A sigh.
“Why?” Questioned Junkrat, sticking his nose up definitely.
“Jamison.” He whispered somberly, causing the blonde’s shoulders to sag. “Let me hold you.”
It wasn’t a request, nor was it a demand, just a simple statement. With some tentativeness and suspicion, the blond closed the distance between them. Once he was within arm’s distance, Mako reached a hand out to him. Jamie looked at it with distaste before cradling it in both of his hands. They were so small compared to Mako’s. He didn’t protest when he was pulled onto the bed, his body pressed against the other’s.
“I’m glad you’re safe,” Mako whispered.
“Yeah, well, the same goes for ya, ya pig-faced cunt. “ Nuzzling in and letting his body curl in as arms wrapped around him. Wrapped together in bed was nice after exhausting missions. Mako’s hot breath, unfiltered by his mask, rustles the blond’s hair. There was a comfort and tenderness they rarely allowed themselves in these moments.
“What’s going through your head?” It wasn’t good to let Junkrat roam in his chaotic thoughts for long.
“Hana and Lucio used to think ya didn’t like me.” He snuggled closer. “Thought ya wasn’t good for me.”
“S’not wrong.” He rumbled in agreement. Jamie deserved better, a better life that was taken away from him at a tender age. A life he contributed by stealing from the blonde. He wasn’t what Jamie deserved.
The blond jabbed his stump at his enormous gut. “Oi keep talking like that and I won’t give ya a bonus.”
The large man chuckled, laughter making his gut rumble. He hated to admit it, but the kid had at least some sense of humor. There wasn’t much to laugh about in the Outback.
***
The touching was becoming more frequent and confident with the passing weeks. A shrill voice is easier to listen to and also easier to drown out when it gets to be too much. Personal space is becoming shared space. Conversations are less tense and more lulling with each syllable spoken. The lines between business and pleasure blurred; business partners, mates, and whatever else they were heading became jaded and unfocused, like their lives.
“Mako.”
“What?” Jamie mumbled, tongue heavy with sleep.
“Mako Rutledge.”
Junkrat just looked at him with unfocused eyes and a tilt of the head. “Uhhh, not sure what you’re trying to say mate.” He admitted after a beat of silence.
“Name was Mako Rutledge. Before Roadhog.”
At that, Junkrat shoots up, gazing down at the man with cautious awe and uncertainty before baring his teeth.
“Pleasure to meet you Mako.” He stuck out his prosthetic hand, a shit-eating grin taking half his face as Hog shook it. “They call me Jamison “Junkrat” Fawkes.”