Kisses And Frank Discussion Of Mortality - Overwatch, Junkrat/Roadhog

Originally posted on AO3 around March 2018


"Roadhog kissing Junkrat’s bald spot and maybe Junkrat being self conscious about it, but in the end it becomes the epitome of affection between them"

Commision for Sillyscrunchy, written before The Plan and Wasted Land came out.

Junkrat’s long fingers drummed on the table as he looked over a heavily defaced map. He wasn’t sure how late it was, only that Roadhog had gone to sleep a long while ago, his loud snoring barely covering the constant roar of traffic outside their motel.

He’d been in the same position for hours, sitting hunched at a plastic table as he made plans. Tomorrow was their first big job in Sydney and he wasn’t about to screw it up. He wanted their trip to start out on a high, making them both sure they’d made the right choice coming out here.

He and Roadhog had been working together for a few months already, staying in Junker territory as long as they could before it got too dangerous even for them.

It wasn’t the other Junkers they had to fear, once they’d gained a decent reputation they’d been mostly left alone. But Bounty Hunters were coming to the outback from all over, and while they could take the odd person, staying in the outback just made them easier to find.

He didn’t know if they even had any idea of what he’d found, or if they’d just followed a rumour in the hopes of a big score.

Junkrat sighed, resting his head on the table. Hopefully travelling around would throw them off, and if it didn’t, the journey would be fun either way. He grinned, thinking about everything they’d have a chance to do outside of Oz. So many places they could go, and all the money they could steal. He closed his eyes, drifting off.

He suddenly jolted upright, startled and off balance. Daylight filled the room, and a hand was on his back. A panicked moment later and he realised it was just Roadhog, already dressed and radiating concern through the mask.

Junkrat blinked himself awake, smiling up at Roadhog. “Mornin’ mate. Guess I drifted off a-” He paused, sniffing the air. “Is that coffee?”

Roadhog nodded, pushing a paper cup into Junkrat’s hands. “Went out to get breakfast.”

Junkrat pulled off the lid, inhaling deeply. He didn’t know how he’d ever lived without coffee sharpening his mind. “Ta.” He threw his head back and downed the whole cup, the liquid barely below scalding. He threw the cup in the direction of the bin, clapping his hands together. “Now we’re cookin’ with gas! Thanks, Hog.”

Roadhog grunted in acknowledgement, drinking his own coffee more slowly as he looked over the plans strewn over the table.

Junkrat stretched, grunting in pain as his body protested. Honestly, a table was far from the worst place he’d ever slept. He tried to roll his shoulders, only succeeding in making them hurt more.

Heavy hands stopped the movement, Roadhog moving to stand behind him. “Need a hand?”

“Ah, cheers mate.” Roadhog slowly rubbed at Junkrat’s tense shoulders, solid pressure working out the knots until Junkrat relaxed into a state of bliss. He was happily zoned out when Roadhog leant forward, stitched up mouth pressing against the bald spot on the back of his head.

Junkrat squeaked, the moment shattered as he pulled away, one hand covering his head. “What was that?”

Roadhog looked frozen, hands still hovering in the air. “Did I hurt you?”

Junkrat shook his head warily. “No, just, did you just kiss my head?”

Roadhog nodded, looking away. Junkrat could see the redness in his ears that usually signalled a blush under the mask. “Why?”

Roadhog just shrugged, still not looking at him. “It was there.”

Junkrat scratched at the spot on his head self-consciously. He didn’t really put that much thought into how he looked, but he was suddenly very aware that he was already missing half his hair at twenty-five while Roadhog somehow still had a thick ponytail while pushing fifty.

He supposed it was his own fault, but it wasn’t fair of Roadhog to point it out.

“I don’t you kissing me, I just-” Maybe he was overreacting? He had trouble telling sometimes. “Never mind.”

He turned away, snatching an egg sandwich from the table before explaining the plan to Roadhog, trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach.

He thought about it later that night, lying on the lumpy motel mattress as Roadhog slept beside him. Fingers ran between the patches of hair on his head, feeling the smooth skin.

He’d been warned as a kid, everyone had. Don’t get too close to the Omnium. It had been a mix of reasons, it’s too dangerous, too radioactive. He remembered even hearing rumours of vengeful omnics still living in the place, ready to tear apart any humans who dared venture inside.

Of course, as a teen he’d practically lived there, despite knowing the dangers of the radiation. There was enough danger in the outback he figured it wouldn’t make much difference, and there were so many good things to be found there.

He’d found his arm, torn from a half-built omnic he’d pulled from an assembly line. Enough materials to make a living, making guns and armour he could sell on with enough left over to make his own explosives.

But he couldn’t deny the effects the place had had on him. The burns on his skin, nausea he hadn’t been able to shake, and his hair falling out like an old man's. Worse, since Roadhog was an old man and still had all of his. He wondered who would live longer between the two of them, would age or radiation poisoning win out in the end?

He shifted uncomfortably, trying to shake the idea out of his head. He didn’t want to think about it. The idea of going on without Roadhog, or Roadhog leaving without him, left a sick feeling in his chest.

He went back to thinking about the omnium. It was the only place he’d ever really called home; the bit of the ruins he’d carved out for himself. A secure area wrapped up in so many traps he’d been able to hide out there for weeks even after people started coming after his treasure.

He missed it sometimes, being in a place that was his, and that he could trust to keep him safe until he woke up in the morning.

Of course, he finally thought before he dozed off, that’s what he had Roadhog for now.

Three days later found them rushing back into the building, the thrill of the heist still rushing through them as they dropped the bags of money to the ground.

Junkrat grabbed a handful of notes, tossing them in the air to watch them flutter around. He spun in place, giggling as Roadhog pulled him backwards, wrapping arms around him in a loose hug. He was about to say something when he felt Roadhog kiss his head again. “Oi!” He wriggled in Roadhog’s grip until he could turn to face him.

Roadhog’s mask was pushed up, exposing a wild grin that matched Junkrat’s own. Any protests Junkrat might have made died in his throat, replaced by an excited giggle. “Ya gotta let me kiss you back too, fifty-fifty and all that.”

Roadhog laughed, almost crushing Junkrat in a tight hug before kissing him deeply. Junkrat kissed back eagerly, arms wrapped around Roadhog’s shoulders. It felt good, being held so close. He yelled in delight as Roadhog lifted him off the floor, carrying him over to the bed. “Ready to celebrate?”

A month later they staggered into a much nicer hotel room. They were both exhausted, having spent the whole day gathering supplies and finalising plans to hitch a lift on a cargo boat the next morning. They were finally leaving Australia, only stopping off at Singapore to switch boats before heading for Japan.

They collapsed onto the double bed, curling up together, Junkrat’s back pressed against Roadhog’s stomach. He liked the position, it made him feel like nothing could get to him with his bodyguard there. “G’night Roadie.”

He was just drifting off when he felt Roadhog shift behind him. The heavy arm that had been curled protectively around him moving to fiddle with the mask. He was about to ask why, almost too tired to speak, when he felt soft lips press against his scalp.

He jerked away, both hands covering the back of his head. “Quit it!”

Roadhog reached out to him, pausing before making contact. “Quit what?”

“I know I’m balding, you don’t need to remind me.” Junkrat snapped, rolling over to glare back at Roadhog. “We can’t all make it out of Junkertown as pretty as you did.”

Roadhog’s head tilted. When he spoke his voice was soft, puzzled. “Does it bother you that you’re going bald?”

Junkrat grumbled, nails digging into his skin. “Reminds me that the radiation’s gonna get me one day, I ain’t gonna live forever.” He shuffled a little closer. Even annoyed, he was desperate for Roadhog’s comforting touch. “I’m falling apart and it feels like you made it through everything without getting hurt.” He admitted.

Roadhog pulled him closer, holding him loosely. “I got hurt.” He confessed. “Mostly in my head but, the radiation too.” He gently prised Junkrat’s hands off his head, holding them in his own.

“It’s why my lungs and eyes are so bad. Sometimes it’s hard to tell if it’s a symptom or if I’m just getting old.”

They were quiet for a while, their breathing the only sound in the room. And Christ, Junkrat never thought about Roadhog’s lungs before but now he’s listening he can hear it, the effort in every breath. The mask, the filters. He really is an idiot.

“Sorry.” He half-whispered, not wanting to break the moment between them. “Didn’t realise. You always seem so, unstoppable.”

And now he feels worse, because he and Roadhog are both gonna die. And he can’t stop it.

Roadhog chuckled though, shaking the bed. “Good.”

He pressed a kiss to Junkrat’s forehead, tone lighter. “We’re out of the irradiated area now, not everything’ll heal, but that’ll help. A few more jobs and we can afford doctors, medicine. Anything we need.”

Junkrat buried his face in Roadhog’s chest, still uncertain.

“What if we can’t keep going? What if one of us carks it before we can make it big?”

There was a long pause before Roadhog responded, long enough Junkrat had started to wonder if he’d fallen asleep. “I don’t really think that far ahead, I’m surprised you do.”

Junkrat gasped in mock outrage, lightly slapping Roadhog’s chest.

“Oi! I’m great at thinking ahead, makes up for how I can’t remember shit.” He rolled over, trying not to giggle. “Why do you like kissing it anyway?”

“It’s easier to kiss the back of your head than the front if you’re working, or if we’re in bed,” Roadhog replied. “And, it’s just-” He sighed heavily. “This is corny as hell, but it’s just at the right height to kiss and it makes me think of how perfect you are for me.”

Junkrat’s heart nearly stopped. He could feel his face flush and was glad it would be unseen in the dark. Roadhog held his breath, waiting for a response.

Junkrat’s brain tried to think of something, anything to say. How was he supposed to respond to that? Roadhog was the perfect one here.

“Wouldn't say it was corny,” He mumbled, trying to keep his voice steady. “It was kinda… hammy though.” He grinned at Roadhog’s deep laughter. “I don’t mind, if you wanna keep kissing my head.”

They settled down, drifting off. A final kiss, and they both fell into a deep sleep. Loved, protected, and not going out without a fight.