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Junkrat was bored and horny, and he despised both states of being. Roadhog was being utterly useless—just lying there reading and ignoring his boss' plight, despite increasingly pointed glances from Junkrat. He licked his fucking finger every time he turned the page, the little tease, and Junkrat could all too easily imagine one of those spit-slicked fingers gently stroking him, barely breeching him while Junkrat panted and begged and Roadhog fumbled for something to use as lube.
Junkrat moaned, shifting his hips on the bed in an inviting little squirm, rolling his eyes up to look at Roadhog. Nothing. The fucker hadn't even looked up from his reading. Clearly, this called for serious intervention.
Already naked, Junkrat slithered up against Roadhog's side, giving himself a few long, sure strokes. The unfortunate thing about having only one organic hand—he daren't use his prosthetic for something this…delicate—was that he could jerk himself off or finger himself, one or the other, unless someone decided to stop being a wanker and help a bloke out. With wanking.
Moaning dramatically, Junkrat arched, hand still moving slow and steady as he caressed himself.
Roadhog steadily ignored the horny, wiggly man worming his way into his lap, finally rolling over all together and grabbing a pillow to rest his chin on as he kept reading. Rat got like this so often it was hard to keep up. Sometimes he forgot how much younger Junkrat was; he certainly didn't look his age most of the time, but his libido was one of the few things that gave him away. Now that was an invitation Junkrat couldn't resist. Clothed or not, Roadhog's magnificent ass presented all sorts of opportunities. Laughing softly to himself, Junkrat half-rolled, half-climbed on top of his bodyguard. Roadhog's pants didn't exactly cover everything, so there was plenty of exposed flesh. Junkrat squirmed down until his cock met the line where Roadhog's clothes ended and his ass crack began. Moaning even louder, he started rutting—a little rushed, because he suspected he wouldn't be allowed to stay long.
He was correct. Roadhog elbowed him, grunting. "Get off." Roadhog should have expected that, but he'd hoped his obvious lack of interest would just send Junkrat into a sulk and he'd go wank by himself. Still, it was hard not to be amused by the lanky little shit just climbing him like a mountain and trying to rub off on him. Rat was nothing if not determined.
"Plan on it, mate." Junkrat grinned. With his cock sandwiched nicely between Roadhog's ass cheeks, he had a hand free to reach behind himself. It was a bit of a stretch—pun fully intended—but he could reach just far enough to slide the tip of his middle finger just inside.
Roadhog grunted again, ignoring him. If Jamie wanted to rut against him like a horny kid then let him. It wasn't as distracting as him talking, at least. For now. He continued reading, pretending not to notice Junkrat's moans and thrusting.
Junkrat sighed, pointedly. This was good, but it could be so much better if Hoggie'd just pay attention to him for three minutes! And he couldn't get a very good angle to finger himself.
He rolled off of Roadhog again, trying to find a compromising position that allowed him to rut against Roadhog and have access to his own ass. Failing to find one and forced to choose between cock and ass, he groaned and grabbed the oil they'd been using as lube. He settled for lying as close to Roadhog as possible, flat on his back with his knees spread, the stump of his amputated leg sprawled casually over his bodyguard's back, using that point of contact to help rock him back and forth as he fucked himself with one finger. He continued moaning, loudly, head thrown back in exasperated ecstasy. "Don't need him, do we?" he said, though whether he was speaking to his cock, ass, or something else entirely wasn't clear. "Can get off just fine on my own, can't I?"
And now he was talking to himself. Roadhog was tempted to roll over on top of him and crush him into the mattress. They'd already fucked this morning. Roadhog wasn't as young as he used to be. He might manage again this evening but it wasn't even afternoon yet.
Still, it was Junkrat and he wouldn't stop until he was done.
"Will you stop talking if I fuck you?"
"Sure, yeah, whatever you say!" Junkrat agreed. "Don't even have to do that," he bargained. "Just a little tug, yeh? Or the use of one of those fingers of yours for a few minutes." Rolling onto his front, Junkrat inched up the bed and captured one of Roadhog's massive hands. He gleefully sucked one of Roadhog's fingers, head almost upside down so he could reach. "Like this one here," he mumbled around his mouthful, somehow still managing to grin up at the other Junker.
"Mhm." Roadhog grabbed Junkrat's thigh and pulled him to where he wanted him, rubbing the damp finger against the other junker's tight hole. He held his book with his other hand, determined to ignore Rat.
Ignoring the fact that Roadhog was ignoring him—at least for the moment—Junkrat gave a full-body shiver of pleasure. "Oh, yeah, that's it, mate," Junkrat moaned, forgetting his promise already. "Fuuuuck…" With his hand now free and conveniently covered in oil, Junkrat started stroking himself again, arching and thrusting back against Roadhog's reluctant, indifferent finger.
"Quiet," Roadhog growled. It was really hard to focus on his book with Junkrat talking. Just the talking. The tight, hot muscle squeezing around his finger was not distracting at all.
"Right. Right. Quiet," Junkrat whispered the last word, "I can be quiet. So quiet." It wasn't clear if he stopped talking because he'd been told to, or if he simply got distracted by physical sensations. Eyes fluttering, he bit his lip, forcing himself to take Hog's finger to the first knuckle and glad he'd already slicked himself. "Fuuu—" Glancing at Roadhog, he cut himself off, biting his lip harder as his hand sped up.
"Good," Roadhog told him, curling his finger inside Junkrat. He could barely fit as it was, and knew that moving that much was going to be a strain, but Junkrat liked it a bit rough and with less preparation than most. They were a good match that way, otherwise it would have always take too long to fuck. Junkrat didn't have the patience for foreplay. Roadhog was 99% sure that was half of why he liked it rough.
Junkrat shuddered, mouth falling open in a silent cry at Roadhog's word. Letting out a sound that was almost a whimper, he thrust his hips at an even steeper angle, taking more of Roadhog's finger, deeper. He tightened his grip on his cock, his partial arm reaching up and back to stroke every part of Roadhog he could reach.
Roadhog groaned. He'd been rereading the same sentence over and over, stubbornly pretending that he wasn't completely involved in fucking Junkrat. He stroked the man's insides, somewhere between rough and loving.
"S-say it again?" Junkrat murmured, feeling his cheeks go hot. Normally he wouldn't have asked, wouldn't have acknowledged how much he liked…well. But after that little stunt of trying to ignore him, Junkrat thought he was owed that small indulgence. His cock was leaking, adding to the oil still covering his palm. "Close, mate, so close…"
"Good, boss." Roadhog knew all of Junkrat's buttons at this point. He was pretty easy to get off if you knew how to stroke his ego.
"Ohhhh fuck!" As his orgasm overtook him, Junkrat slid down so he was fully seated on Roadhog's finger, filling himself completely as he came over his stomach and chest. To his credit, he tried to get as little on Roadhog as possible, but he was mostly beyond noticing as he frantically milked himself while riding the thick finger stretching him.
Roadhog stayed still for a moment, then carefully pulled himself out. "You good?"
Grinning dreamily, Junkrat nodded, eyes half-lidded. "Uh-huh. You?" Junkrat laughed. "You enjoying your book? 'Cause I am."
Roadhog hooked Junkrat under his arm and pulled him in against his side, going back to his book with the now limp junker no longer pestering him.