Chapter 1: Spanking
You’d think that Junkrat would always be on edge, what with how hyperactive the kid was. Constant chatter at all hours of the day, jittery, shaky hands. But people who knew him well, like Roadhog did, could tell the difference between his variations of ‘on edge’. The one that Roadhog found him in now was definitely the bad kind.
The heist they’d been planning—and it had been such a simple heist, in and out in no time at all—had gone completely wrong from the start. They’d only been near that bank a couple of times to scout it out, but apparently they’d been noticed at some point, because when the time had finally come to rob the damn place, the cops were over them as soon as they walked in. They’d only had a semi-formed escape plan—Junkrat’s escape plans were usually just “run like hell” anyway—but they managed to shake them off. Or so they’d thought.
As Roadhog had been mounting his bike, a lone officer approached and got a lucky shot. Leather isn’t like kevlar, and as such it did nothing to stop the bullet that nailed Hog in the back of his skull. Everything had gone black, and when his vision cleared, he had the lingering taste of Hogdrogen in the back of his throat, and there was Junkrat, crouching over him with a look of panic and desperation on his face. He was speckled with blood, though when Hog expressed his concern, Junkrat shook it off. “S’not mine, it’s the jack what sneaked up on us.” He gestured to the charred body at the end of the alleyway. Had Junkrat not been so worried about Hog, he’d probably have given the guy a more painful death.
They’d made it back to their motel with significantly less trouble, but Junkrat was having a hard time settling down. He sat at the small desk in the corner of the room, starting his little bomb assembly line, but he kept glancing back at Roadhog every minute or so, wide-eyed and still pale under his coating of soot and blood. He eventually gave up, hands too shaky—even for him—to work safely, and he took to pacing the room instead.
All this might not have concerned Roadhog if it weren’t for how quiet Junkrat was being. The kid generally never shut up after a heist, too full of confidence and triumph to lay low like a sensible criminal. But now, combined with the near-palpable distress Junkrat was emanating, Roadhog realized that his brush with death had clearly left him shaken.
Hog stifled a groan as he sat up from the bed Junkrat had instructed him to lay down and rest on. To tell the truth, he felt fine, apart from a faint headache; he was too concerned about Junkrat to care about that, though. His motion caught Junkrat’s attention, and he whirled around and scurried over.
“No, you lie your arse back down, Roadie.” His pushed anxiously at him, though the both of them knew that Roadhog didn’t have to go anywhere he didn’t want to. Rat was clearly so caught up in his anxiety that Roadhog’s hands on his hips surprised him, and he let out a squawk as Roadhog picked him up and maneuvered over his lap.
“What’re you doin’, Hog?” Rat said, a nervous grin on his face. He squirmed a bit, but he wasn’t really fighting against him.
“I want to help you calm down.” Roadhog’s hand moved from its place on Junkrat’s back, smoothing its way down to his arse, which he gave a gentle squeeze.
Some color rushed back to Junkrat’s face. “You need ta rest, m-mate; doctor’s orders.”
“Are those your orders, Dr. Boom?” Hog teased, voice low as he worked Junkrat’s shorts down his hips.
Junkrat tittered. “Yeah, and if ya don’t take it easy, I’ll tie ya down. Make you stay in bed until you’re better.”
Roadhog chuckled, a deep rumble that made his partner shudder. Junkrat’s tone had been shaky, uncertain; Hog figured Junkrat wasn’t used to being the responsible one. He leaned down, and, in a growling murmur, he said, “We both know who calls the shots, boss.”
At that, Junkrat let out something between a moan and a laugh, and some of the tension melted out of his frame. He braced his hands in the sheets and nodded his head. “Go on, then.”
Happy with that admission of consent, Hog placed a hand on Rat’s back, and raised other up. He let it hang just above his partner for a moment, and then brought it down on Junkrat’s arse with a quick and relatively light smack. Junkrat jolted, letting out a gasped, “Ooh!” He chased it down with a giggle, and he raised his arse as much as he could with Hog’s hand keeping him down.
Roadhog lifted his hand again, and this time, there was no pause. The sound his hand made against Junkrat echoed in the room; Junkrat followed it with a moan. Hog remained silent, despite his interest beginning to show through his trousers, and just stroked his hand over the reddened skin.
When Junkrat settled down, he brought his hand down three times in rapid succession, each one followed by a yelp from Junkrat, who at this point had gone boneless in his grasp. Roadhog felt a bit of wetness on the outer side of his thigh, and he looked down to see Junkrat openmouthed and drooling, eyes rolled back in pleasure. Roadhog couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight.
He continued on, varying the pace and hardness of the smacks depending on how overwhelmed Junkrat seemed. He could definitely feel Junkrat’s length pressing against his leg, mirroring his own arousal. He could wait it out, though: after all, this wasn’t about him.
When Junkrat’s breathing began to get more ragged, and he couldn’t help but rut against Hog’s leg, he decided to spare his pants from the inevitable mess and flipped Junkrat over, holding him against his chest with one arm while his free hand traveled down to grip his cock. When he didn’t move it, Junkrat opened his eyes and stared at Roadhog expectantly.
”Go on, then,” Roadhog said, tone amused. Rat let out an exaggerated sigh before beginning to thrust eagerly into his tight grasp, his movements slicked by the precum dripping down his length. His panting grew louder, and when he finally stilled, he let out a breathless moan as he finally came, spurting into Roadhog’s hand. All remaining tension disappeared from him, and he relaxed into Roadhog’s embrace, tilting his head up for a kiss Roadhog was happy to indulge him in.
“Feel better?” Roadhog asked when they came up for air. He wiped his cum-covered hand off on the bed’s blanket before bringing it up to brush through Junkrat’s sparse amount of hair.
Junkrat nodded, nuzzling against Roadhog. “Can hardly remember why I was so bothered in the first place.”
“Good,” Roadhog murmured, and then, still holding Junkrat, he stood up and began to walk toward the bathroom.
“What’re ya doin now, ya drongo?” Junkrat said, eyes closed but squirming a bit in Hog’s grasp.
“Taking you to shower,” Roadhog replied. Immediately Junkrat’s eyes shot open, and he tried to scramble out of his arms. Roadhog held him fast, though; covered in ash, blood, and cum as he was, it was definitely time to wash up.
Chapter 2: Dirty Talk
This had to be the fanciest prison Junkrat had ever been in, by far.
The Junkers’ around-the-world trip had taken the duo to southern India, and after spending some time sampling the food and slumming around their host city’s shadier areas to tour its bars, they’d heard about the Vishkar Corporation. From what they were told, Vishkar sounded like the ultimate snobby suit company; nothing but a collection of rude cunts who thought they were smarter than everyone else and were making a fortune off of it. Junkrat had immediately hated them and suggested wrecking their headquarters.
Roadhog had thought this was a horrible idea, and tried to dissuade Junkrat from doing it, but when Junkrat was determined to accomplish something, there was nothing that Hog could do to stop him; all he could do was attempt to make their plans as safe as possible. He proposed they make a few trips to the building—in disguise, of course—to plot out their destruction more efficiently. Such an intellectually advanced corporation had to have extensive security measures, right?
However, the Junkers hadn’t anticipated that Vishkar might have been ready for them. They apparently had such an extensive criminal database that they could detect any famous lawbreakers in their midst within seconds of their appearance by their DNA, something Junkrat and Roadhog discovered upon entering the building. They hadn’t taken more than a few steps inside before the floor around them glowed and shot up, forming a barrier and trapping them in place.
Junkrat had done a little research prior, and found that much of the architecture in the city was made of something called hard-light. Despite all he’d read, he’d underestimated its versatility, and they had found themselves completely surrounded by it. The police arrived not long after, and the two had no choice but to give themselves up.
Now, this wasn’t the first time the Junkers had been in prison, and they were sure it wouldn’t be the last—but it sure as hell wasn’t like any prison they’d been in before. Their cells were small, relatively featureless white cubes that were designed in every way to be impersonally perfect. There were a few comfort features, however; Roadhog’s bed was the right size for him, for one, and both cells were equipped with small bathrooms, complete with showers (much to Junkrat’s dismay).
The duo had been escorted to two adjacent ones before being locked inside; the door had vanished behind Junkrat after he was walked in, leaving him feeling very claustrophobic right from the start.
There was little to no way to tell the passage of time; there were no windows, and the walls, floor, and ceiling always glowed brightly, simulating eternal day. The only scheduled events were when a slot would appear in the door and a meal would be pushed inside. It would have driven Junkrat nuts, if he hadn’t discovered that as seemingly indestructible as the walls were, they weren’t soundproof.
He could talk to Roadhog as much as he wanted. What a bloody fucking miracle that was!
The two were fairly certain that they were being observed at all hours of the day, so they weren’t really able to formulate a verbal escape plan. Still, it was an enormous relief to be so close to Roadhog; most prisons kept them as far away from each other as possible, and their only time to communicate would be their rec hours and mealtimes.
Still, the fact that he couldn’t see, couldn’t touch Roadhog was beginning to get to him. He missed the feel of his leather mask against his lips, he missed roughness of his big hands, he missed the warmth of his body next to him as he slept.
Junkrat found himself lamenting all this out loud one evening—or at least, what passed for an evening in this timeless hell. “God Hog, what I wouldn’t do to be actually next to ya again,” he sighed, slumped against the wall that kept them from each other.
Roadhog was quiet—as he always was—before he broke his silence with a murmured, “What would you do if I was there?”
Junkrat was speechless for only a moment before a grin split his face. “I’d be all over ya in less than second. Don’t think I’d be able to keep me hands to meself.”
There was a brief rustling noise, followed by a quiet sigh. Junkrat licked his lips, imagination going wild as to what Hog might be doing behind that wall. “Your hands work too,” he hummed, closing his eyes as he began to palm at his crotch. “You know how much I love those. Fucking massive, nice an’ rough. Let you lay me down, do whatever the fuck you want.”
“What do you want me to do?” Roadhog asked. If Junkrat didn’t know any better, he might think that Hog already sounded a bit breathless.
Junkrat brought down the zipper of his own trousers, freeing his half-hard cock and giving it a stroke. He let out a soft moan, and then giggled at the sound as it echoed back at him. “I want you to use those big hands, mate. Get me nice an’ opened up for you. It feels like forever since you’ve given me a good rooting.”
This time, he was definitely certain that he heard a quiet groan from the other side of the wall. Junkrat played a bit with the head of his cock, thumbing at the slit and spreading around the precum that gathered there. He sighed, and then continued, “God, I’d want you to plow me so hard I wouldn’t be able to move the next day… no, the next week!” He thrusted into his hand, tightening his grip. “Put that monster cock to good use.”
There was a deep chuckle from Hog. “Make you squeal,” he rasped.
Junkrat shivered at the sound. “I can always count on ya for that, mate.” He grunted as one of his hands drifted down to cups his balls, rocking into the touch and wishing it were Hog instead of himself.
By now Junkrat’s grip was slick with his own fluid, and he rocked his hips frantically into the hold. “Need ya—ah, need ya here with me. Wanna touch ya, smell ya, see that look on your face when you’re ‘bout ta fill me up.”
There was a few moments of silence, and then a long, low groan sounded from the other side of the wall. Junkrat’s mind went overboard imagining Hog coming, so close and yet so far away, and he finished into his hand with a gasp, stripes of cum coating his fingers.
Junkrat relaxed against the wall, imagining he could feel the heat of Roadhog doing the same just behind him. “Miss ya, Hoggie.” He wiped his hand off on the bedspread nearby, and closed his eyes. “I got us inta here, and I’ll get us outta here, mate; you don’t need ta worry ‘bout a thing.”
Roadhog grunted, and Junkrat knew that it meant more than just a simple affirmation.
Kissing, Junkrat found, actually wasn’t that bad. At least, it wasn’t when he was kissing Roadhog. The big fucker had the softest lips, a fucking massive tongue, and certainly more experience than anyone else Junkrat had ever made out with. Sure, it was a little infuriating that he always took it so slow, but he would generally end up appreciating it anyway.
What Junkrat liked most of all, however, was Roadhog’s teeth. He wasn’t sure if it had been the radiation, or it was something he had gotten done, but Roadhog’s canines were more like small tusks. And when he bit, he bit. It wasn’t uncommon for Junkrat’s lower lip to be abused and bleeding after a makeout session with Hog.
He also liked it when he bit his shoulder, or the side of his neck. The points of his teeth would actually sink in, breaking the skin and stealing Junkrat’s breath away. Then he’d soothe the wound with gentle licks that contrasted the brutal, bruising strength Hog had when he bit down. It was enough to make Junkrat swoon.
There had been a time where Roadhog had clamped down on him, and had actually gotten stuck. Junkrat had been incredibly aroused and simultaneously worried for his life. Hog had pulled back until Junkrat thought he actually would tear his throat out, and he finally came free, teeth stained and dripping with Junkrat’s blood. Junkrat had found the sight so fucking hot that he passed out—though Hog insisted that it was probably just blood loss. Whatever.
Ever since, Roadhog had been more gentle, something Junkrat complained about fiercly. He would insist that he wasn’t going to break like glass, but Hog would only nibble at him now whenever he bit somewhere that wasn’t Junkrat’s lip. He supposed that he’d just have to get used to the change. There were worse things that could happen, after all.
Roadhog was always one to savor intimate moments. Junkrat was a passionate kisser, but he drooled too much when he rushed, so Hog took it upon himself to teach Junkrat to properly enjoy a kiss.
Not that Roadhog didn’t appreciate his eagerness. Sometimes he did like a messy makeout session. Sometimes he’d even let Junkrat take the lead, if he was feeling especially generous. Junkrat liked using his tongue when he kissed, and he was actually pretty skilled, despite his apparent lack of practice.
Hog lamented that he didn’t use his teeth more, though. There had been a time where the two of them had gotten separated during a raid on their home in Junkertown, and from across the room, Roadhog had seen that Junkrat had gotten disarmed and pinned under an enemy. He roared in anger, which caused Junkrat’s attacker to startle and look his way.
What neither of them had anticipated, however, was that even disarmed, Junkrat was far from helpless. The skinny junker had reached his head up, sunk his sharp little teeth in his assailant’s throat, and ripped it clean out. He’d pushed the limp body off him and stood up, blood dripping from his mouth, and Hog couldn’t help it when his cock promptly sprang to attention.
Ever since then, Hog had sort of had a thing for Junkrat biting. He was a little too afraid to ask, however. Junkrat didn’t control himself very well in the throes of lovemaking, and as much as Hog would like to be bitten, he didn’t want to fucking die.
But there were other ways he could experience the sensation. Junkrat was still a little inexperienced at blowjobs, and didn’t always remember to fully cover his teeth when he went down on Hog. He’d shudder whenever Junkrat’s teeth would graze his sensitive skin, but wouldn’t correct him. Roadhog didn’t want to admit how aroused the feeling made him either, though, or Junkrat might actually bite him there.
It was a conundrum, to be sure, but he’d make do. There were always little ways for him to get his fix, and it didn’t hurt that Junkrat loved being bitten, too.
It really was nice how well they got on.
Junkrat ripping out someone's throat in this scene was slightly inspired by one of thyme-basalt's recent chapters in their fic, "What's Best For You." Go check it out if you haven't already, it's a fantastic piece of fiction!
Chapter 4: Strength Kink and Blood/Gore
This chapter has graphic descriptions of violence and minor character death. Be warned if that's not your thing!
“You’re makin’ this much more difficult than it has ta be, mate,” Junkrat said over the pitiful whimpering of the the junkers before them. “You tell us who sent ya, or we shoot ya; simple as that!”
Roadhog lifted one of the yobbos up to the level of his scrapgun’s barrel, and then cocked it. The coward started scrabbling at Hog’s hand, but he wasn’t doing any real damage. The other one struggled under Rat’s foot, looking like they were about to piss their trousers.
“I mean, we’d ask your pack of mates, but we killed ‘em all. Didn’t we, Hoggie?” Hog chuckled, the sound deep and rumbly. “So it’s in your best interest to tell us, ‘less ya wanna end up like ‘em. Give ‘im some persuasion, mate.”
Hog nodded and, grabbing the junker by the neck, began to squeeze. He only had to put enough pressure to make the man’s eyes bulge before his friend cried out, “It was Scrapossum! Scrapossom sent us! Now let us go!”
Roadhog turned to Junkrat, silently impassive. Junkrat chuckled and looked cheerily at the junker beneath him. “I dunno, mate. You lot wrecked our home up, caused us quite a bit a trouble!” He gave them a toothy grin. “I think we oughta send a message ta Scrapossum, don’t you, Hog?”
The larger junker laughed at that, and leveled his scrapgun again. He was just about to pull the trigger when Rat held out a hand. “Wait, Hog, I got a better idea. Can ya do that thing I like?”
Roadhog turned his head and stared at Rat. “Our house is already a goddamn mess.”
“So,” Junkrat wheedled, “A little more won’t hurt! C’mon, Hoggie, please?” He licked his lips and coyly batted his eyelashes. “I’ll make it worth ya while, mate.”
He only paused for a moment before finally nodding. Then he readjusted his grip so that he was holding the invading junker by the waist with both hands, and then, slowly, he began to twist.
And twist. The junker began to shriek in pain, squirming desperately to try and get out of Hog’s grasp, but it was useless. Junkrat stared, completely enraptured, as with one final, wrenching motion, Roadhog tore the junker in half. Junkrat was in awe as blood dripped down Hog’s fists from where it leaked out of the dying junker, and he couldn’t help the boner that sprang to attention at the sight of Hog’s muscles as they tensed and rippled.
Now both of the invaders were screaming, the one below Junkrat yelling their friend’s name while the other let out a seemingly unending, agonized wail as his organs spilled out from the break, falling to the floor with wet splatting sounds.
The mutilated junker was slowly going limp, scream tapering off into quiet, choked-out whimpers. When the life finally faded from his eyes, Hog let both halves of the body drop to the floor. His mate was still screaming, tears streaming down their face as they stared, horrified, at their dead companion.
Junkrat grabbed the survivor's chin to make sure he was paying attention before hissing, “Make sure Scrapossum knows that’ll happen to ‘im if he fucks with us again.” With that, he lifted his foot off the junker’s chest, and they scrambled out from beneath him, tearing off into the night without a moment’s hesitation.
The skinny junker adjusted himself in his pants as looked around his home, which was pretty badly broken up from the invasion... not to mention smeared with the blood of all the dead intruders. But, he noticed with glee, the bed was still intact. He looked back to Roadhog, taking in the sight of his best mate in all his gory glory.
“C’mon, Hog,” he said, taking one of Roadhog’s blood-drenched hands and leading him over to the bed. “I do believe I owe ya!”
Roadhog let out a rumbling laugh, and sat down on the edge of bed as Junkrat knelt before him. “Yeah, you do.” He tousled Junkrat’s hair, leaving streaks of red in it, and began to put a little pressure on it to gently lead him lower.
Rat looked up at him and winked roguishly. “And it’s gonna be bloody brilliant.”
This was mildly inspired by a scene from thefuckistevvs' "The Ugly and the Beast" fanfic. If you've read it, you know the scene I'm talking about.
Chapter 5: Body Swap
Junkrat wasn’t sure if he was dreaming or not. He decided that he didn’t care: if this was a dream, then it was a damn good dream, and if was real, well, that was even better!
He ran his hands down the body that he was so intimately familiar with, but this time, in a totally new perspective.
A sharp laugh jolted him out of his reverie. “You should see the look on your face.” Words spoken in a high-pitched voice, but with a quietness that didn’t match, and seemed unnerving.
A deep chuckle rumbled out of his chest, and he shivered involuntarily a moment after. “S’not every day a guy wakes up ta this! Let me enjoy it!”
Hog shushed him, holding a thin finger up to thinner lips. He crawled forward on the bed—somewhat awkwardly, as he wasn’t used to the clunkiness and weight of the prosthetics—and onto Junkrat’s lap. “You wouldn’t know how to enjoy it. But I can teach you.”
Junkrat was torn between offense and arousal; both emotions expressed themselves simultaneously in a sort of undignified, breathy huff that didn’t sound natural coming out of Roadhog’s mouth. “Roight then, big man—or, heh, should I say little man—why don’t you show me?” He grumbled under his breath, “Acting like I dunno how ta please my Hog.”
Roadhog just laughed, and reached forward to cup Junkrat’s cheek with a hand and lead him into a kiss. Junkrat pressed into it eagerly, all but shoving his big tongue into his partner’s mouth. Which, unfortunately, caused Roadhog to gag and pull back.
“God, not used to that,” he muttered.
Junkrat let out a loud, booming laugh. “Now you know how I feel, eh? Lucky for you that I like ‘em so big.”
Roadhog scowled at him and reached forward.
“What are ya doin’ now, ya drongo—ah!” Junkrat was cut off as Roadhog tweaked his nipples hard, and it sent a wave of pain-tinted pleasure through him. When Hog let go, Junkrat reached down to rub at his chest, playing with a sensitivity that was new and exciting to him. “Oh, god, tha’ feels good. Is tha' what it’s like for you all the time, mate?”
Hog chuckled. “Yeah, it’s pretty great.”
“I’ll say!” Junkrat said, cupping his pecs. “Not used ta having this much tit on me.”
Roadhog rolled his eyes at that, and turned his attention to his own—or rather, Junkrat’s—body. He ran his hands up and down his torso and abdomen, seemingly testing out what areas were more sensitive; Junkrat took in the sight eagerly.
Suddenly, an idea struck him, and he smiled widely. “I wanna see ya jerk off in me lap, Roadie.”
Roadhog raised an eyebrow at that. “Isn’t that a bit narcissistic?”
“Just humor me, ya bastard.” He raised a hand to ruffle through Roadhog’s hair. “It’ll be really hot, and I’ll do it too. Ain’t ya ever wondered what it would look like from me own point a view?”
Roadhog thought for a moment before shrugging. He tugged one of Junkrat’s hands to support his lower back as he leaned away to give himself a little more room. He gave his palm a slow lick before reaching down to grab his prick.
Junkrat watched hungrily, waiting for the show to start, but Roadhog just sat there and frowned slightly. “What’s wrong?” Junkrat asked, tone slightly impatient.
Roadhog looked up at him, completely straight-faced, and said, “It’s so small.”
Junkrat gaped at him. “Ya fucking massive cunt!” He removed his supporting hand, and Roadhog let out a squawk as he tumbled back.
He was laughing as he landed, though. “Kidding, I’m just kidding.”
Junkrat huffed. “I’ll have you know I’m above average, but not everyone can be a bloody giant like you.”
Roadhog climbed back up onto Junkrat’s lap, and Junkrat reached out again to support him. This time, Roadhog actually did begin to stroke; Junkrat grabbed the overstuffed sausage Roadhog called a dick and began to do the same.
He watched intensely as Roadhog jerked himself off, experimenting to see what Junkrat’s body liked more. Junkrat decided to be helpful. “Try playin’ with tha head a bit.”
Hog did as he instructed, and Junkrat couldn’t help but groan as Roadhog shuddered and let out a small gasp.
Junkrat fondled his balls, and moaned at the touch after a moment. “Like that, don’t ya?”
Hog let out a grunt as he slicked precum down his length. “Yeah.” He put pressure on the underside of his cock and rocked into it. “You’re pretty sensitive, too. Go off—ah—go off like a shot all the damn time.”
He twitched a bit more before Junkrat took his hand off his prick to reach out and trace a hand around Roadhog’s neck. Roadhog looked confused and mildly alarmed for a minute before understanding flashed in his eyes. “Be careful if you’re going to,” he said sharply.
Junkrat laughed. “Don’t worry, mate, I got you.” He grasped Roadhog’s neck and applied a bit of pressure, just enough so that his breath came out strained.
“Oh, fuck,” he moaned, and he only had to thrust into his hand a few more times before he came, twitching in Junkrat’s grasp.
Seeing his own body coming from the outside was enough to bring Junkrat over the edge, too. Pleasure flooded through his body, and he let out a deep moan as he came all over his hand. He played with his nipples a little bit to draw out his orgasm, but he got too sensitive pretty quickly.
He let go of Roadhog’s throat, cradled him in his arm, and flopped over with a huff, suddenly really tired and short of breath.
“Hang on,” Roadhog grunted, and crawled out of Junkrat’s grasp to grab a Hogdrogen can. Junkrat pulled Hog’s mask over his face so that Roadhog could slot the canister into the filter. He took a deep breath in, and felt the tension in his lungs ease as the gas flooded into him.
He sighed and pulled the mask off, and Roadhog crawled into his arms again to be held. “That was nice,” Junkrat said, pressing a kiss to Roadhog’s forehead.
“It was definitely interesting,” he said.
“Maybe next time, I can stick this big boy up your arse! Knowing me, you’d like it, mate.”
Hog raised an eyebrow. “Don’t ruin the moment with that thought.”
Junkrat’s laugh rang through the air at that.
Chapter 6: Size Difference
Roadhog hadn’t really been planning on this. Hadn’t even seen it in the realm of possibility. Keep it cool, keep it professional, he’d thought, and yet the situation he was now founding himself in was as far from professional as you could get.
He and Junkrat had been riding on the chopper for a few hours, and Junkrat had begun to complain that he was bored and needed a rest. He’d whinged incessantly until Hog gave in, which honestly didn’t take long in general. He only had a will of iron as far as keeping Junkrat alive, and even if they needed to cover as much ground as possible, what was a few hours spent at some shaded watering hole?
It was pure luck that they’d found the abandoned servo. The snacks in the little side store had long since been looted, and all the petrol siphoned away, but it still seemed to have a solid foundation, and it would provide some shelter from the sun.
Roadhog and Junkrat did a quick search to make sure there weren’t any derros lying in wait, but there was no one to be found. The place was truly abandoned. You could see up road in front of them and behind them for miles, and the coast seemed clear. Roadhog let himself relax a little.
Junkrat and Roadhog spent a little time inspecting the old, faded posters on the walls; the skinny junker would always make little inane, humorous comments Roadhog couldn’t help but chuckle at.
“It just all seems so wild ta me. A place you could get petrol and your sangers or crisps, and all for cheap? Nowadays, all that would cost ya an arm and a leg!” The joke caught Roadhog off-guard, and he couldn’t help but let out a snort, which in turn made Junkrat cackle.
His perspective was so different from Roadhog’s—a part of him reminded him that it was his fault, and he decisively pushed the thought away. Traveling with Junkrat was one of the best things to happen to him in a long while, but he was a constant reminder of the damage his war had done, and if he thought on it for too long, the guilt would overwhelm him.
Junkrat moved on, and eventually meandered toward the front door. When Roadhog let out a questioning grunt, he said, “Just gonna take a leak, mate. Not gonna go too far.”
Roadhog rolled his eyes. There was probably a loo somewhere in the servo, but even if Junkrat knew about it, there was a fair chance that he wouldn’t care. But now that the thought of it entered his mind, he decided that he needed to go as well. It had been a while, after all.
He’d barely settled down to do his business, however, when the door to the loo slammed open without any warning. “Oi, Roadhog—”
Junkrat skidded to a halt, staring at him. No, not at him… his gaze was just a hair too low for that. The blond’s face flushed, and he let out a giggle.
Roadhog, who had been made fun of for his body size his whole life and was used to it, felt himself getting slightly embarrassed. “Got something to say?” he growled, covering up his insecurity with anger.
Junkrat’s gaze snapped back up, and he flushed an even brighter red. “Nothin’, mate, nothin’ at all.” With that, he wandered back outside, leaving Roadhog alone.
It seemed like that was the end of it, for a while. Roadhog tried to put it out of his mind, but still found himself feeling self-conscious, even a few days later. It wasn’t like he was small, but was he too big? Most of his past lovers had been fine with it, so why wouldn’t Junkrat—
Slow way the fuck down, Roadhog thought, shaking his head. Junkrat wasn’t his lover. It didn’t matter what he thought. It’s not like Roadhog liked him or anything, and besides that, he deserved someone younger, healthier, better than him.
A few days after the first incident, the two had to make another rest stop, and found that they weren’t as lucky as they’d been before. All they had was a small clump of dry brush, so they made do.
Roadhog’s thoughts were brought back to what happened at the servo, and couldn’t help but look down at Junkrat, though he tried to be sneaky about it.
He was pretty average-sized, Roadhog decided. The thought made him feel a little better about himself, until his companion let out a laugh. Hog’s looked up sharply at Junkrat, who was grinning like a maniac, and realized he’d been caught staring. “Admirin’, eh?”
Roadhog looked away and muttered something tinged with denial, but Junkrat just continued, “I mean, it’s nothing compared ta your beaut of a cock, mate, but it’s done me well over the years.”
The gears in Roadhog’s head churned to a halt at that. Had he just… complimented his dick?
His lack of response seemed to unnerve Junkrat, however, and his smile soured a little bit. He finished his business and sulked back to the sidecar; Hog stayed behind, still stuck on the part when Junkrat complimented his dick. He felt himself blush a little bit under the mask before shaking himself out of it. He was almost fifty years old, for crying out loud, and here he was, crushing on Junkrat like a schoolboy.
Hang on a second, Roadhog backed up. I am not crushing on my boss. It just wouldn’t work out. Keep it cool, keep it professional, Roadhog reminded himself, and made his way back to the chopper.
The thought kept pursuing Roadhog, however, try as he might to ignore it. There was no way Junkrat could be into him, right? Roadhog didn’t even know if he swung that way.
He remained relatively quiet for the next few days, mulling his quandary over in his head. Of course, he was normally quiet, but it was enough of a difference for Junkrat to point it out one night over their campfire.
“Somethin’ wrong, Roadie? You been real quiet.” He poked at the coals of the fire with a twig, letting it occasionally catch fire only to blow it out again, keeping a tenous balance between chaos and order.
Roadhog shrugged, but decided not to say anything. Junkrat grimaced, fidgeting a bit with the stick. “Listen, mate, if it was about that thing I said the other day… ya don’t gotta worry about it, if ya ain’t inta it. Last thing I want is ta make things weird between us.”
“No,” Roadhog said, finally finding his voice while simultaneously finding himself unable to believe what he was about to say. “No, it’s fine.”
A slow smile began to creep onto Junkrat’s face. “Fine, eh?” He messed with the coals a little more before tossing the stick aside and staring at Roadhog. “How, uh… how fine?”
Junkrat seemed to be vibrating a little bit, and it occurred to him that maybe his employer, his friend, his… well, Junkrat might be as nervous as he was.
“It’s… it’s fine if you’re fine with it, I s’pose.” He kicked some dirt up with the metal tip of his boot to smother the coals of the fire, which was fortunate, because as soon as he said his piece, Junkrat launched himself over the firepit to kneel next to Roadhog.
“Oh thank god,” he said, pawing at Roadhog’s belt and taking him completely by surprise. “I’ve been stuck on this since the servo, mate.”
Roadhog finally had enough frame of mind to grab Junkrat’s hands and pull them away from his belt.
“Oh c’mon,” Junkrat whined, “Ya enjoy mixin’ me up, ya sadistic bastard?”
“No,” Roadhog said, face beginning to heat up. “Just take it slow.”
Junkrat rolled his eyes, but nodded. Roadhog let go of his hands, and he went back to fiddling with Hog’s belt. He finally got it loose, and he pulled down Roadhog’s trousers enough to free his cock. Roadhog felt himself beginning to get shy again, but Junkrat just stared at it, enraptured. “Oohoo, mate, ya gonna make me a very happy bloke.”
He wasted no time, reaching out a clammy hand to grasp ahold of him, giving him a slow stroke down to the base. “I been dreamin’ about this,” he said, and his tongue darted out to give a quick lick to the head, “this roight massive cock, been wantin’ it.”
He opened his mouth experimentally, but hesitated just above the tip. He turned his head experimentally, apparently looking for the best angle. “Sorry, mate,” he said. “You’re just so big.” He looked undeterred, however, and he finally took Roadhog into his mouth.
And immediately gagged as he tried to go too deep.
Roadhog pulled him off. “Take it slow,” he reminded Junkrat. “You can work up to it. Just start with the head.”
“Righto,” Junkrat said, and this time, he just mouthed at the tip. His lips were surprisingly soft, his tongue wet and versatile, and Junkrat still kept his hand on the base, squeezing and stroking what wouldn’t yet fit.
It was amazing. Hog couldn’t believe he’d been so apprehensive, when apparently Junkrat was into him as much as he was into Junkrat. He carded one of his big hands through Junkrat’s sparse hair, causing him to moan. The vibrations felt so good on his cock.
Experimentally, he pushed down lightly on Junkrat’s head, and Junkrat sank down a little deeper, flattening his tongue to the underside of Roadhog’s prick and giving a hard suck.
Roadhog, whose stamina was not great due to his age and near-celibacy of the past decade or so, was taken off-guard by the sudden flurry of sensation and was surprised to find himself coming.
He thrusted up into Junkrat’s mouth instinctively, causing him to gag again, but this time, he didn’t let Hog pull him up, and he even sunk a little lower, swallowing Roadhog’s load like he was an old pro. Roadhog had gone soft and sensitive at this point, but Junkrat kept him in his mouth.
Junkrat’s eyes were closed with concentration, and his body shook slightly; Roadhog belatedly realized that Junkrat had been jerking off when Junkrat came with a muffled moan, a little bit of his cum getting on Roadhog’s trousers.
Junkrat finally surfaced with a gasp, wiping away a few choke-induced tears. “That was bloody fantastic, mate,” he said, voice hoarse from the strain on his throat. Nevertheless, he grinned. “We’re definitely doin’ that again.”
Roadhog, still blissed out from his orgasm, felt no reason to argue. He was just content to let it be.
The Hog hadn’t been alive for very long at all. There was still so little he knew about the world, so much he had yet to experience.
He remembered that the first emotion he’d felt had been anger. A vicious, burning need to destroy everyone who’d ever hurt his creator, the good Dr. Jamison Junkenstein. It was tinged a little bit with something slightly sweeter, but he hadn’t been around long enough to know what it was yet.
But the more time he spent with Jamie—as the doctor insisted he call him—the more he began to realize what that emotion was. He saw it every time he caught Jamie staring at him, eyes wide with wonder and joy. He felt it every time Jamie would warmly embrace him after a night of terrorizing, and gently, so gently clean the gore from him.
It was, of course, love. Jamie loved him dearly, and the longer he lived with him, the more the Hog realized that he truly loved Jamie back. He knew that Jamie had slaved away on him for so long, choosing only the finest body parts and organs for him; the only thing he’d lacked was the spark of life, and the Witch had provided that for him.
Jamie insisted that he should feel no loyalty to the Witch, and that the Hog didn’t owe her anything. “She mighta given you life, sure, but you’re a free man like me, mate.”
He was free to do whatever he wanted? He wanted to destroy that village, raze it to the ground. He might feel no loyalty to the Witch, but he felt everything for Jamie, and the least he could do was make those who’d mocked him, harmed him, pay for their transgressions with their lives.
Sure, he wanted that, but… he also wanted Jamie. He wanted the soft, caring touches that warmed his cold flesh, made his lazily-pumping heart beat all the faster. His nightly raids on the village might have sent adrenaline coursing through his veins, but he never felt more alive than when he and Jamie spent time together.
So he told him. And his heart filled up with warmth as Jamie leapt into his ready embrace, tears of joy streaming down his flushed cheeks. “I was so scared ya wouldn’t like me,” he’d whispered, “like everyone in tha village.”
The Hog was positive that if everyone knew Jamie like he did, they’d have no reason to hate him. The doctor was smart, funny, caring, and—as he’d soon found out—a very considerate partner.
Jamie lavished his love on the Hog after his admission. He fawned over him, stepping on his tiptoes to press little kisses to his cold cheeks before he left, and doted on him attentively whenever he returned, like he could hardly stand to be away from his creation. It was as though every particle of his being was filled to the brim with love for the Hog.
The Hog wanted to express his love back. Jamie always spent so much time making sure that he was happy, that he was satisfied. He loved to spend an hour or two just making out while they cuddled by the fire, and every now and then, he’d lower himself down to lovingly lave his tongue over his cock, over and over until the Hog couldn’t stand it.
He’d be brought to completion... and then that was it. Any attempts at returning the favor was rebuffed consistently. “Don’t ya worry about me,” he’d say, ruffling his own mussed-up hair even further, “I’m happy just ta make you happy.” But he wouldn’t meet the Hog’s eyes.
It was driving the Hog wild. Whenever he would try to show affection, Jamie would become distant, time and time again. Jamie constantly told him that he loved him, but since the first time Hog had said it back, he’d brush off further admissions.
Jamie would always praise him—his devotion, his rage, his body—and he never asked about what the Hog saw in him. He wasn’t very talkative, but he would have spent hours telling the doctor everything he admired about him, if only he’d gotten any indication that Jamie wanted to hear it.
The Hog had found some books in the depths of Jamie’s library: romance novels. They were full of things that couples did together, the ways the expressed their love for one another. One was full of poems about the beauty of the human form; compared to the rest of the well-worn books, that one had hardly been touched.
A thought suddenly struck the Hog; he’d never even seen Jamie’s body. The doctor wore his loose labcoat buttoned up all the way to his collar, and even when the two of them shared a bed, Jamie would have the Hog wait outside the bedroom until he was dressed in his nightwear.
Now, the Hog had no real issue with this; if Jamie wanted to take things slow, that was fine by him. What was more concerning to the Hog was the idea that Jamie might be ashamed of his body, a thought that seemed ludicrous to him. He adored his mind, his personality, his handsome face; why wouldn’t he love his body?
All of this came to a head one night as they lay in bed. Jamie sat in the Hog’s lap, mouthing at his neck and pressing little kisses to his snout. Eventually, he pulled away, staring lovestruck at the Hog. He gave a satisfied sigh before murmuring, “I really made ya absolutely perfect, didn’t I?”
His hand smoothed down to cup at the Hog’s crotch, where his interest had been starting to show. He felt the pressure of Jamie’s own length pressing against his stomach, and he finally decided to make a move.
He reached his hand out to ghost his fingers over the bulge in Jamie’s nightclothes. Almost instantly, Jamie let out a nervous giggle and pulled away. “What’s goin’ on, Hoggie?”
“I…” he said, unsure where to start. “I want to make you feel good, the way you do to me.”
Jamie laughed louder at that. “Oh, Hoggie, love, ya don’t gotta do nothin’ ta make me feel good. I’m happy just lovin’ on you.”
“That’s not how this works,” the Hog said, struggling to remember a line from one of the books he’d read. “‘Love is a partnership, in which both individuals treat one another equally and strive to do the best for each other.’”
Jamie’s jaw had dropped a bit at that, cheeks flushing. He shook his head, and was about to speak when the Hog continued, “I want to treat you the way you treat me. You make me feel so good, Jamie; I want to do what’s good for you.”
The Hog wasn’t used to speaking so much, but he felt he couldn’t stop until he made sure Jamie knew how much he loved him. “There’s nothing you have to hide from me. I love every part of you; I promise you that. So you shouldn’t feel ashamed about how you look in front of me. You’re perfect.”
Now Jamie’s mouth was wide open, and tears were beginning to well up in his eyes. “I—I just…” He took a deep breath in and hesitantly brought his hands to the bottom of his nightshirt to pull it up.
“I’m really nothin’ to look at,” Jamie said, and the Hog eagerly took in the sight of Jamie’s bare skin. He was lithe and thin, with slightly-protruding ribs, but there was nothing the Hog saw that he didn’t like.
“I mean, I’m the town freak,” he murmured, voice filled with self-loathing. “There ain’t nothin’ to love about the way I look.”
He looked like he was about to say more, but he went quiet as the Hog moved to caress him, gently rubbing his large hands up and down Jamie’s sides, over his protruding spine and prominent hipbones. “There’s nothing,” the Hog said, “I don’t love about you, Jamison Junkenstein. You’re beautiful.”
Jamie’s face when bright red, and he sucked in a breath like he’d been punched. “You… you really think so?”
The Hog nodded, pulling Jamie closer and putting his snout to his cheek like a kiss. “You’re absolutely perfect,” he said firmly.
Jamie let out a laugh, voice cracking slightly. The Hog gently and slowly lowered Jamie onto his back, smoothing his hands over every inch of his beloved creator. He leaned down, pressing little kisses over him. “Wouldn’t change a thing,” he said as he made his way lower.
His hands stopped at Jamie’s waist, and he waited for permission to continue. Jamie hesitated, but only for a moment, and then nodded eagerly; the Hog slipped his trousers off slowly until they were puddled around his ankles.
Jamie’s cock was half-hard at this point, and a few loving strokes brought it to its complete height. The doctor squirmed underneath him, panting softly with his arm thrown over his eyes. There was a moment of quiet, and then Jamie blurted out, “I… I want ya ta make love ta me, Hoggie.”
The Hog nodded. He’d read about that in the books, but he wasn’t sure what to do, necessarily. “Tell me what you want.”
Jamie peeked over his arm, and then covered his eyes again. “In my drawer, there’s a small bottle I want ya to bring out.”
The Hog reached inside as requested, finding a half-empty glass cannister of bright blue fluid. He handed it to the doctor, and with the practice of someone who did this quite a lot, Jamie coated two of his fingers with it and brought his hand lower. “Ya gotta go like this,” he murmured, and he gently rubbed one of his slicked fingers against his hole, spreading the fluid around before gently pushing one in.
The little sigh he made went straight to the Hog’s cock. He watched intently as Jamie moved his finger and thrusted it, toes curling as he went in all the way to the base of his finger. It got even better when it slipped the second one inside, spreading his fingers to stretch out the soft muscle.
He did this for a few minutes, while Hog watched enraptured. Then, he slid them out and handed the bottle to Hog. “Use one of ya smaller fingers, and do the same thing I did,” he mumbled, cheeks flushed bright pink.
Hog took the vial, careful not to break it, and he poured the liquid over his index finger. When he was sure there was enough, he brought his finger down to Jamie’s hole, and gently, so gently, he pushed his finger inside.
Immediately, Jamie let out a gasp. The Hog stopped, worried he’d hurt his love, but then Jamie moaned softly. “God, even ya smaller fingers are enormous. Feels so good, Hoggie.”
The Hog continued his motions, pushing his finger in and out slowly, watching the shivers go through Jamie’s body, the twitches of his hips. “Add the second one,” he said with a sigh, and the Hog obliged him.
He copied the scissoring motion that Jamie’d done, and was rewarded with a demure, pleasured whimper. The Hog pushed deeper, and Jamie pushed his hips back against his fingers. “Oh fuck,” he moaned, “God, Hoggie, don’t think I can wait any longer!”
With a shaking hand, Jamie gave the vial to the Hog again. “Cover ya cock in this now, and start slow,” he said, spreading his legs a little wider so that Hog could move in closer.
He didn’t move yet, though. “Beautiful,” he murmured, looking over the flushed, sweating, tremor-wracked body of his beloved.
Jamie threw his arm over his eyes at that. With his free hand, the Hog grabbed it and pinned it next to Jamie’s head. Staring into his eyes, he said, “Absolutely gorgeous.”
The doctor let out a laugh at that, and gave him a weak smile. “If you say so, then it’s gotta be true.”
With that, the Hog coated his cock with the blue liquid, and gently pushed inside.
Both of them gasped simultaneously. Jamie was so warm, so tight around the Hog’s cock. It was like nothing he’d even felt before. He moved his hips slowly, pulling out completely before sliding back in. The two moved against one another, panting and sharing breaths.
“Fuck, c’mere,” Jamie whimpered, grabbing at the Hog to pull him closer. He desperately kissed him, mouthing at the Hog’s neck before sucking on his tongue. The Hog groaned, and he began to pick up speed, pushing in and out with vigor.
Jamie arched against him, encouraging him to move even faster. There was a repeated thudding noise, and it took the Hog a moment to realize that the bed was actually banging into the walls from their lovemaking. He let out a deep chuckle, and the doctor stilled at the sound before moaning loud and unabashed as he came, cum spilling out across their stomachs.
The Hog slowed his movements to give Jamie a breather. He knew he was close, but he didn’t want to overwhelm his lover. “No, no,” Jamie mumbled, “Use me, Hoggie, I wanna feel ya come in me.”
He pushed back in and picked up his speed again. The doctor whimpered with each movement, but he didn’t ask the Hog to stop, so he kept going. He thrusted forward with urgency, so close to finishing.
Then Jamie clenched tight around him, and the Hog saw stars. He pushed in one last time, deep inside him, and he finally finished, cum spilling into Jamie’s hole and leaking out around his cock. He pulled out slowly, giving Jamie one last kiss, and he got out of bed.
“W-wait, where ya goin’?” Jamie’s voice seemed tinged with panic, but he quickly calmed down upon seeing the Hog return with a dampened rag. He rubbed the soft, warm cloth onto Jamie’s stomach, wiping up his release, and then moved down to gently clean Jamie’s arse.
When he finished wiping both of them down, he dressed Jamie back in his nightclothes and pulled him close. Jamie snuggled up, head underneath Roadhog’s chin and arms wrapped tight around him.
“Good?” The Hog asked, giving him a soft kiss on the forehead.
Jamie gave him a tired smile. “Better than I’d ever dreamed.”
This chapter was inspired by this piece of artwork, by tumblr artist mozg-nsfw: http://mozg-nsfw.tumblr.com/post/166317786248/kinktober-day-7-creampie-worship-body-etc
I know Hog is normally the one getting worshipped, so I wanted to spin it around :)
Chapter 8: Deep-Throating
“You won’t make it,” Hog said, tone full of amusement.
“Rack off, Roadie; I’m gonna break a world record with this bad boy!” Junkrat took Roadhog’s cock in hand, giving it a few strokes.
“Ain’t nobody ever made it all the way to the base,” Roadhog said with a sigh, “You’ll choke long before you get there.”
“Don’t bog me down with all ya pessimism, Hoggo. I mean, tell me what I’m workin’ with: what’s the farthest a bloke’s gotten?”
Roadhog had to think about it for a minute before batting Rat’s hand away and pointing approximately to the middle. Junkrat lipped his lips reflexively.
“If I can fit the whole thing up my arse, I bet I can take it down my throat. I’m gonna make it, Hoggie, mark me words. Ya gonna get the best gobbie of ya goddamn life!”
“If you say so,” Hog chuckled, and moved his hand to give Junkrat some room to work his magic.
Junkrat flashed him a cheeky smile, and wrapped his flesh hand back around Roadhog’s cock, slowly rubbing and squeezing. His other hand went up to his mouth, and he pushed a few fingers in. Drawing them in slowly, he relaxed his throat as he moved them deeper. Hog watched lazily, enjoying both the show and the pressure on his cock.
After a minute or so of just holding his fingers there, he slowly slipped them out and cleared his throat noisily. He stretched his jaw a bit, and then placed both hands on Roadhog’s thighs.
“I tap ya left thigh—your left, not mine—ya pull me down a tick; if I slap ya right, ya stop. Got it?”
“Gonna make me do all the work, eh?”
Junkrat rolled his eyes. “Not all of it! And besides, we’re a team, ain’t we? We’ve broken all kinds a boundaries together.”
With that, Junkrat wet his lips, took a deep breath in, and then took the tip of Roadhog’s cock into his mouth.
Roadhog snorted. “Is that it?”
Junkrat pinched his thigh hard, causing Hog to let out a laugh. Nevertheless, Junkrat sank down a little further. He pressed his tongue hard into the underside of Hog’s cock, massaging it with vigor. Hog let out a low, pleased rumble.
Then Junkrat tapped Hog’s thigh, and he placed his hand on top of Junkrat’s head to push him slowly down. They’d gotten about a quarter of the way down when Junkrat suddenly slapped Roadhog’s other thigh; Roadhog didn’t remove his hand, but he stopped pushing.
He gently pet Junkrat’s hair, causing the younger man to let out a happy moan, sending nice vibrations through Hog’s cock. Junkrat stayed there for a minute or so, bobbing his head up and down by degrees, occasionally sucking his cheeks in. The first time he tried, he almost gagged, but quickly got his throat under control.
“You’re doin’ good, Jamie,” Hog praised, and Junkrat looked up at him with bright eyes. Roadhog did have to admit that there was something hot about his determination.
His break apparently over, Junkrat tapped Hog’s thigh again. Hog pushed Junkrat’s head lower, trying to make the motion as smooth as possible.
They’d just barely made it to the halfway point when Junkrat suddenly slapped his hand on Hog’s thigh, sharp enough to make it sting, and his body convulsed as he began to gag. Concerned, Hog grabbed Junkrat’s hair and tried to pull it up.
Junkrat dug his fingernails directly into Hog’s thighs. Roadhog let out a grunt and released his grip on his partner. There was a slight wetness dripping onto his skin, and he realized it must tears leaking from Junkrat’s eyes. Nevertheless, his throat relaxed, and he bobbed his head slightly.
Roadhog ruffled his hair. “You don’t need to be ashamed if you can’t do it,” he said, voice slightly breathy at this point. “I’m impressed with you for getting this far.”
The only response he got was a particularly hard suck, which pulled a gasp from him. It seemed that Junkrat was truly determined to take him all the way to the base.
Once again, there was a tap on his left thigh. Even more slowly than before, he lowered Junkrat’s head down. Roadhog felt Junkrat’s throat briefly tense before he forced himself to relax.
Junkrat definitely only had a quarter left to go, which genuinely surprised Roadhog. At this point, he was trying his hardest not to thrust into the warmth of Junkrat’s throat, unused to this sort of sensation so low on his cock. It was incredibly sexy, and yet…
“Junkrat, you’ve broken the record. You don’t… you don’t have to keep goin’.” His crotch was as damp from tears as it was from drool, and Hog was beginning to get worried.
But Junkrat was apparently not to be deterred. He lowered his head even further; it seemed like an eternity, but he finally felt the wet heat of Junkrat’s mouth at the base of his cock, his nose pressed into his pubes.
Hog let out a long, deep groan, petting Junkrat’s hair. “Good b-boy, Jamie. You, hah, you actually made it.”
Junkrat made a strained—but definitely pleased—moan. While he didn’t use his tongue anymore, he still bobbed his head a bit, throat loose enough to make slick, wet sounds as he moved.
Hog sat there, with no choice but to just take it. He tossed his head back to pant quietly, stroking Junkrat’s hair. Out of curiosity, he moved his free hand between his legs to rest just underneath Junkrat’s chin.
He lightly glided his slightly-shaking hand up Junkrat’s neck, and the feeling of his cock pressing against the skin of his throat was too much for Hog. With a loud moan, he came into the tightness that surrounded him.
This final strain was too much, apparently. Junkrat’s throat closed up, and he gagged, pulling his head up as fast as possible. The last spurts of cum spread across Junkrat’s cheeks and mouth, and the sight of it dripping from Junkrat’s tongue and face caused his cock to twitch, a fruitless attempt to prolong his orgasm.
Junkrat coughed, the sound rattling slightly. But, despite the tear tracks on his cheeks, he looked fiercely proud of himself. “T-told ya,” he said, voice incredibly hoarse, before breaking off into a cough again.
“I’ll make you some tea with honey later, it’s the least I can do,” Hog purred, tilting Junkrat’s chin up to press a soft kiss against his lips. Junkrat leaned into it readily, melting into Hog’s touch.
“But until then,” he said as he broke away, a devious smile on his face, “How about I return the favor?”
Chapter 9: Asphyxiation
So I wasn't happy with my last version of this chapter, so I deleted it and then gave it its own fic (you can read it here. I may or may not update it, it depends on if I get inspired. In the meantime, enjoy this new version!
Kissing Roadhog was one of Junkrat’s favorite pastimes. The enormous, soft lips, and a powerful tongue that would overwhelm his senses; Rat would press desperately into the kiss, occasionally slipping his own tongue into Roadhog’s mouth. Sometimes, Roadhog would make them slow down, gentle but deep kisses.
They’d decided to lie low for the day, after having just completed a successful—well, it wasn’t really a heist, but there was probably something illegal about drawing mustaches and dicks on famous paintings.
Junkrat had wanted to have sex, but Roadhog had turned him down—they couldn’t afford to be noisy. So instead, they compromised with a nice, slow, makeout session.
Except it wasn’t really slow anymore: now they were kissing with a heated desperation. Junkrat objectively knew that he needed to come up for air at some point, but the dizziness just made everything that much more intoxicating. He ground up against Roadhog’s gut, which pressed heavily against him and just added to the litany of pleasant feelings currently taking over his senses.
Roadhog moved to give Junkrat some breathing room, but Junkrat pulled him back against him with a whine, inviting Roadhog’s tongue back into his mouth. He closed his eyes, relaxing into the bed, and…
He felt the world around him shake. Or maybe it was just him? There were big hands grabbing at him. His eyes suddenly shot open and he sat up with a gasp, and there was Roadhog before him, looking a tick worried.
“You okay, Rat? You just passed out right out of nowhere.”
Junkrat tried to take deep breaths, but he was thwarted by his own delirious giggling. “Yeah, better than okay, mate,” he said, pressing up against Roadhog and pulling him close.
Roadhog actually pushed him away this time. “You’re insatiable; you really wanna fuck after almost suffocating?”
Junkrat blushed. “I may or may not have a thing for that, mate.”
Roadhog’s eyes widened in realization, and it was followed up by a wide smile. “Okay,” Roadhog said. “Okay, I think I can work with that.”
This time, when he leaned into the kiss, Roadhog’s hand slid up to his neck and closed around it loosely. Junkrat moaned at the touch and he pulled away for a moment to bite at Roadhog’s ear, and then murmured, “Harder.”
Roadhog groaned low in his throat, and closed his hand a little more tightly this time. His tongue swept into Junkrat’s mouth, and Junkrat did his best to reciprocate as he slowly became deliciously dizzy again.
He was getting closer to both his orgasm and passing out; he wasn’t sure which would happen first. He went slack, mouth opening in a fruitless attempt to gather more air. Then, suddenly, Hog let go, and Junkrat let out a shrill gasp; the rush he got was so strong that it only took one last grind before he came, his body twitching as his release slicked up their stomachs.
He slowly came down, still panting heavily, and Roadhog nuzzled up to him, pressing almost chaste kisses along his jaw and the side of his throat. “Better?” Hog said, pulling back to smile at him.
Junkrat gave him a tired grin in return. “Better.”
Chapter 10: Gunplay
This chapter is based off Thyme-Basalt's fic What's Best For You, and takes place during the interlude where Junkrat is preparing to bust Roadhog out of prison. Go read it, it's great!
Two in the morning found Junkrat in his little Talon-sanctioned scrapyard, heaving a sigh of relief as he put the finishing touches on Roadhog’s new gun. The thing was nearly impossible to move around due to its massive fucking size, but he was finally done with it. Now he had more time to plan.
It felt like it had been too long since he’d last seen Roadhog. Poor cunt was languishing away in a Hungarian prison—one of the meaner parts of Junkrat still believed he deserved it. He’d specifically asked Hog, if they were ever in a situation where Junkrat couldn’t be saved, to just make a run for it. But he’d given both of them up, and now they were separated; Rat struggling through his rehabilitation in a Talon facility while Hog struggled through his guilt in prison.
He should feel guilty, that mean part of him hissed. Junkrat was tempted to lean into it. Hog had made a decision that had cost them both far too much.
On the less important end, as Junkrat had just spent ages fixating on, it had cost them their weapons. He’d put blood, sweat and tears this gun, perfecting it, giving it the right rate of fire and the right heft—even if that meant nearly throwing his back out trying to lift it.
It was a big gun for a big man with big hands. Strong, rugged hands that could lift anything with ease, pin him down and just—
No. Junkrat tried to squash that particular line of thought.
He stared at the gun, tracing his fingers over its bulky form. It wasn’t exactly the same as the old one; no, it was slightly sleeker, didn’t have all the caked-on dirt from years upon years of use. It had a bigger clip than Roadhog’s old gun, so that was at least one good thing.
He wondered what this gun’s first kill would be. He obviously couldn’t lug it to the prison when they broke Hog out, so it would have to be some other time, on one of their fancy new Talon missions.
Junkrat didn’t have a great memory at the best of times, but he’d never forget the first time he saw Hog kill someone with his gun. They’d been in their little homes on the outskirts of Junkertown; Junkrat had been working late on some plan or another to mess with the Queen when bounty hunters had burst into his shack. He’d gotten one good yell and a few punches out before he was pinned down.
They’d only just started asking the usual questions about Rat’s treasure when the the door to the shack flew open again, and there was Roadhog in all his murderous glory. He’d hooked the man on top of Rat, and as he was jerked up close, the scrapgun had splattered the man all over the wall. Blood, viscera, and guts went everywhere.
By the time Roadhog was finished with the intruders, the inside of Rat’s home was completely painted red; some of it has gotten onto Junkrat, while Roadhog was obviously completely covered in it. This had been before their relationship started, so Rat didn’t really know what Hog must have thought about the stiffy he popped.
Oh, speaking of stiffies.
Rat groaned in frustration, quickly palming his semi-hard length through his shorts; his body just wouldn’t let him be angry at Roadhog like he wanted. Rat grumbled to himself, prepared to just jerk off and get it over with when his eyes landed on the gun again. Oh, that would would work nicely.
Grinning to himself, he shucked off his trousers and climbed up on the table to somewhat awkwardly straddled the gun. Once he was fully seated on top though, wow. It was solidly-built, and it pressed nicely against his balls as he ground down onto it.
He rocked against the gun, hips rolling as he closed his hand around his cock and began to thrust into it as he went to town.
The table, sturdy though it was, began to shake in time with Junkrat’s motions. He humped against the surface of the weapon, mind full of memories of the people Hog had eviscerated with it. God, Hog was incredibly sexy with his gun.
A bit of precum leaked down his cock and smeared onto the top of the scrapgun. When he was finished with it, the gun would be a whole different kind of dirty than its predecessor; Rat chuckled at that thought. He pumped his cock up into his fist before grinding it down against the gun.
He was so close. He just needed to think of more memories. Oh, god yes, there was the time when Hog—
Rat must have somehow kicked the gun’s trigger, because with a jerk and a deafening roar, the gun fired off, and the resulting ball of scrap punched clean through the table it was sitting on. But the visceral fear and simultaneous arousal of being that close to the shot made Junkrat let out wail and come hard into his hand, with more than just a few drops splattering on the top of the gun.
Rat breathed heavily, adrenaline rushing through his blood as he came down from his orgasm. He quickly flipped the gun’s safety on before clambering down from it with shaky legs.
He stared at the hole the gun made, and shuddered. Then he looked at the gun, covered in his sweat and cum, and he gave it a proud nod. He cleaned himself off with a rag and tugged his trousers back on.
He could clean up the gun in the morning.
Chapter 11: Sadism/Masochism, Bondage, and Orgasm Denial
Hog, just for a brief moment, caught a hint of smoke in the air. Junkrat was finally here. About damn time.
The skinny junker had been acting weird as of late. Normally he would ask for sex at least once a day, but he’d been virtually ignoring Roadhog for the past week. He’d taken to locking himself in his workshop, and that wasn’t normally weird, if it hadn’t been for the neglect—yes, after so much constant sex, Roadhog was comfortable being dramatic enough to call it neglect.
So when he woke up to Junkrat lying on top of him, cheek resting on Roadhog’s stomach as he loosely stroked the larger junker's cock, you can imagine how eager he was; being woken up with sex was already a generally pleasant experience, but today, he was ready as all hell. Or at least, that was before he realized that Junkrat had tied him down. That wasn’t really a problem, either, but ropes alone weren’t enough to keep him restrained, and Junkrat knew that.
But Junkrat had given him a devilish smile, and he leaned forward to whisper, “Ya break those ropes, and the game’s over, mate.” He’d licked the rim of Hog’s ear before clamping down on the lobe; Roadhog had shivered, smiled, and tacitly agreed.
Junkrat had played with Hog for a while: he’d leaned into Hog’s thighs, placing both little nips and piercing bites on the stretch-marked skin; he’d lick and kiss at the wounds he’d left behind, all while ignoring the stiff length that strained just above him.
When he’d finally decided to pay attention to Roadhog’s cock, he’d run his tongue slowly over the head, and then pulled slightly on the piercing nestled there with his teeth. He’d slowly licked up and kissed his way down the length of Roadhog’s cock, using one hand to lightly fondle his balls while stroking himself with the other.
Normally, he could never get Rat to slow down. But this was too little stimulation, even for him, or maybe it was too much; he was already getting close, that’s how desperate the past week had made him. “Rat, stop teasin’,” he’d muttered, trying to receive more attention with as little embarrassment as possible.
“Oh, ya want me ta stop?” Immediately, Rat pulled away from Hog, previously wandering hands tucking themselves into his pockets faster than he could blink.
“Now, now, behave! You can sit here and be a good Hoggie, and I’ll come back when ya ready.”
But I am ready, Hog had wanted to argue, but he held his tongue. The last thing he wanted was for Junkrat to punish him harder by prolonging his wait.
Junkrat had been just about to leave, when he suddenly stopped and whirled around. “Almost forgot,” he chirped, and he sauntered over to tie a blindfold he’d gotten from his pocket over Hog’s eyes.
“Oh come on,” Hog had complained, but Junkrat just shushed him. His hands wandered lower, and for a moment, Hog was hopeful. But then, he pushed Hog’s cock into the grip of something soft, but tight. “Cock ring for ya, mate. Wouldn’t just leave ya here with nothin’.”
Hog wanted to argue that a cock ring was sort of pointless, but then there was a small, almost imperceptible click, and the ring buzzed to life. It was a very low level of vibration, but Hog couldn’t stop the groan that left him. Junkrat had chuckled, and then Roadhog heard only the sound of his footstep as he left the room.
So he’d waited, and waited, and waited. His anticipation and desperation kept him slightly hard, which in a way made his need burn even brighter.
I could end this, Roadhog mused. He tugged on the ropes experimentally. They were a little on the tight side, but the chafing against his skin just added another small layer of pleasure.
Still, it obviously wasn’t enough to finish him. He’d try and rub his thighs together if they weren’t spread so far apart, so he couldn’t get pleasure that way either. The ring was beginning to drive him mad, small moans escaping him every now and then.
He’d been just about to give up when he’d caught Junkrat’s smoky scent in the air. It was his only warning before his clammy flesh hand grabbed his dick and gave it a stroke. Roadhog squirmed at the sudden increase in pleasure, and gasped out, “C’mon, Jamie, I need you.”
Junkrat laughed low in his throat as he clambered on top of Roadhog, scooting forward to sit on his chest. “How bad do ya need me, Hoggie?”
“More than I can say,” Roadhog said, and he shuddered as the vibration from the cock ring increase slightly with another click.
“Try,” Junkrat said, a smile in his voice. “What would ya do for me?”
“Anything,” Hog said, desperation palpable.
“Lovely,” Junkrat purred, and he slid forward even more, hips angled down so that the tip of his cock brushed against Hog’s soft lips. But then he kept it there, not thrusting forward at all.
Oh, Hog thought, he wants me to make the first move. He hesitated for a moment. It wasn’t like Hog had never given a blowjob before; it was just that his partners generally preferred him to just rail them. But he’d do anything to please Junkrat at this point; in addition to his burning need, he had to admit that Junkrat taking control was kind of sexy.
He opened his mouth and tilted his head up, and Junkrat’s cock slid into his mouth; he started slow, sucking at the tip for a bit as he tried to get over his performance anxiety.
Junkrat hummed at the warmth he felt, and he pushed in a little deeper. Hog licked at what of the shaft rested inside his mouth. He tried very carefully to keep his teeth away from the sensitive flesh; after all, just because he liked it didn’t mean that everyone did.
At this point, Junkrat had begun to gently thrust into the slick heat of his mouth. “Do ya love me, Hoggie?” he panted. Hog was silent for a moment; how did Junkrat expect him to respond when his mouth was full? His resolved was broken a moment later when Junkrat raked his bitten-down nails over Roadhog’s chest; the larger man groaned as the mingled pain and pleasure raced through him. “I wanna hear it, mate.”
“Ah luff yoo,” Hog tried to say, words awkwardly muffled by the cock in his mouth. Junkrat seemed pleased, anyway, judging by the moan he let out. He ran one of his hands down to Hog’s face, cupping it warmly; Hog nuzzled into it, and sucked hard on Rat’s cock.
There was a gasp at that, and Junkrat let out a shaky, “Good boy, Hoggie,” and click! the vibrations increased again. At this point, Roadhog was close to cumming untouched, nothing but desperation and sweet sensation coursing through him.
Junkrat shifted, leaning to recline back on Hog’s stomach; in doing so, it not only shifted his cock deeper into Hog’s mouth, but it also put him in easy reach of Hog’s nipples. Junkrat wasted no time in playing with them, fondling them, pinching them, and even tilted his head uncomfortably to take one of his mouth.
Hog moaned at that, and then moaned again even louder as Junkrat bit down on the sensitive nub. He pulled hard on his restraints, and there was a creaking noise; he froze immediately, remembering Junkrat’s warning.
His attention was brought back to Junkrat as he thrusted into his mouth; Hog was worried he might gag on Junkrat’s dick, and that would be embarrassing, but he managed to keep his throat under control.
“Fucking aces, love,” Junkrat moaned, hips twitching. “S-say it again.”
It was even harder than the first time, but Hog still managed it; after all, it’s not like it was a lie. Hog did love Junkrat, he just… he didn’t say it enough. “Agh luv hyoo.”
Junkrat gave a triumphant laugh at that, and then he cried out and shook as he came, spurting into Hog’s unpracticed but willing mouth. He managed to swallow most of it, with only a little bit of it dribbling down the sides of his mouth.
He sighed and slid off to cuddle next to Hog. “I love ya too, big guy,” he said, pressing a biting kiss to Hog’s jaw as he increased the vibrations one last time.
Roadhog had been so focused on Junkrat that he hadn’t even realized how close he was to coming, but he found himself almost immediately on the cusp, and he came with a loud gasp and a moan, cum shooting out onto his stomach and dripping down his length, orgasm shaking through him.
It was almost too much, but then Junkrat turned off whatever remote was controlling the ring before he slipped the toy off his cock, and Hog let out a sigh of relief. Junkrat clambered around a little more, first freeing Hog’s feet, then his hands, and finally the blindfold.
He was greeted with the sight of Junkrat’s warm gaze staring at him. He gave an amused sigh before planting a kiss on Junkrat’s forehead. “So you ignored me all week to get me nice and desperate, eh?”
“Yeah,” Junkrat cackled, “and it worked! Another one of Jamison ‘Junkrat’ Fawkes’ brilliant master plans.”
Roadhog smirked and leaned closer to his partner. “I hope you liked it, because you might just find yourself on the receiving end of that soon.”
Chapter 12: Pet Play
This is more or less a sequel to the previous chapter.
Hog always considered himself a guy with a strong will. He was a one-man apocalypse, and he didn’t bend easily.
But to walk in on Junkrat, nude as the day he was born and leaning back on their bed with a tight black leather collar around his neck, looking delectable as all hell… he’d thought he’d resolved himself to ignore Junkrat’s advances after his stunt, but one look and Roadhog crumbled.
Hog strode into the room, looking up and down at the bare, sculpted body beneath him. Junkrat gave him a wide smile before saying, as sultry as Roadhog had ever heard him, “What can I do for ya, Sir?” He followed it up will a coy wink and a slow lick of his lips.
Roadhog motioned Junkrat to move closer, and he crawled forward on all fours before sitting on his haunches. He opened his hands to show Hog a thin, matching leash, and God if that didn’t go straight to Roadhog’s dick. Hog reached out and grabbed it, but he didn’t pull just yet.
He leaned closer to Junkrat’s ear, and growled, “Are you gonna be a good boy for me?”
Junkrat shivered and giggled. “Anything for you, sir.”
Roadhog chuckled at that. “Good,” he rumbled, before moving past Junkrat to sit on the bed, against the headboard. “Be a good pet, and undress your master.”
Roadhog had done stuff like this when he was younger, back when he used to frequent those types of clubs. He’d never done it himself, but he’d seen it enough to know it was something he was interested in. So now that it was happening to him, he couldn’t keep a lazy grin off his face.
Junkrat prowled toward him, hands gripping at his belt before slowly unhooking it. He nimbly unbuttoned Roadhog’s trousers, and went to unzip them, but the older junker yanked on the leash, grabbing his attention.
“Use your mouth,” Hog said, and he didn’t miss Junkrat’s smile as he leaned down and clamped onto the zipper, dropping his head to slowly bring it down. When he was finished, he looked up at Hog, waiting for approval. “Keep goin’.”
He grasped onto the waistband, and began to pull it lower on Hog’s hips until they were out of the way. All that remained was his underwear, but when Junkrat went to get rid of that, Roadhog grabbed his head and pressed it against his crotch.
Immediately, Junkrat got the hint, and began to mouth and lick eagerly at the length he felt hardening under the soft fabric. Hog felt Junkrat inhale deeply, like he was smelling him, and he ground upwards into Junkrat’s mouth.
“Good boy,” Hog eventually said, when he tired of that, and Junkrat pulled up with a grin as he went again to remove Hog’s underwear. This time, Hog slapped his hands away, and instead moved the thin layer himself. His cock, now released, sprung up against his belly with a soft smacking sound, and he didn’t miss how Junkrat eagerly licked his lips at the sight.
Hog stared into Junkrat’s eyes. “Do you know what I want you to do?”
Junkrat giggled. “Do ya want me ta suck ya cock, Sir?”
Immediately Roadhog yanked on the leash. “No. Like you would know what your master wants. Don’t know why I asked.”
Junkrat smile grew wider before he caught himself and looked down, changing his expression to one of dejection.
“No,” Hog said. “I want you to ride me. A good boy like you will be happy to do all the work tonight, I’m sure.”
Junkrat wasted no time and scrambled forward. “Yessiree, of course!”
Roadhog reached into the nightstand by the bed, where they always kept their bottle of lube. When he looked, though, he couldn’t find any.
“Ya don’t gotta worry, Sir,” Junkrat said, grinning as he slinked over to straddle Roadhog’s lap. “I already took care’a it.” To show him, he leaned back, licked two fingers, and pushed both of them easily into his arsehole with a slick sound.
“Mmm, good boy,” Hog rumbled, impressed, and Junkrat beamed at the praise. Carefully, he grabbed Roadhog’s cock and angled it up before leisurely sinking down on it.
Hog let out a low sigh at the pressure and heat beginning to envelop his cock, but made no move to help Junkrat at all. The skinny junker slowly made it to the base, panting only slightly, before rocking his hips forward.
Both of them moaned at that motion, and Roadhog’s free hand moved almost involuntarily to grip Junkrat by the hips and squeeze. Junkrat let out a purr at the tight grasp, surely eager to see the bruises that would be there the next morning.
He continued to bounce on Hog’s cock, soft little moans leaving his mouth as he moved. Hog just leaned back, shifting his hips to chase more pleasure when he could. “I wanna see you jerk off while you ride my cock, pet.” His tone left no room for argument, and there was no small amount of lust, either.
Junkrat laughed. “Of course, thank ya, Sir!” He grabbed his own dick and began to stroke it in time with his movements. He changed it halfway through, though, deep in the throes of pleasure: he rolled his hips sinuously as he tried to angle Roadhog’s prick to hit his prostate. Roadhog knew he’d found it when he let out a loud moan and full-body shivered. He clenched down hard on Roadhog, who grunted breathlessly and thought, To hell with it, and thrusted up, almost catching Junkrat by surprise.
They moved together for a time, a sort of give and take, and both of them grew closer to the edge. Junkrat was full-out panting at this point, breaths occasionally interspersed with laughter, and Roadhog decided to help Junkrat along by pulling hard on the leash so that the collar strained at his neck and restricted his breath.
“Thank ya, Sir,” Junkrat breathed out as his eyes shut tight, nearly there but not quite.
Roadhog was just about to blow, too. He yanked Junkrat even closer before he growled into his ear, “Come for me!”
There wasn’t even a moment’s hesitation before Junkrat let out a high-pitched moan and pitched forward as he came in thick stripes over his hand and Hog’s stomach. Feeling Junkrast tighten up around him with his release brought Roadhog over the edge too, and he groaned as his cum shot up and filled Junkrat’s hole.
Junkrat slumped back, and Roadhog moved let go of the leash so he could pull Junkrat off his cock and next to him so that the two of them could spoon. The cum dripping out of Junkrat’s arse would probably get uncomfortable soon, but they could snuggle just a bit before they cleaned up.
“Know what you are?” Roadhog in between him pressing his mouth to Junkrat’s neck and leaving little kisses.
Junkrat let out a breathless laugh. “A good boy?”
Hog chuckled. “No, better than that. You’re my boy.”
Chapter 13: Rimming
This has 1.6k of story in it, so if you want to skip straight to the smut, just use your computer's find function and type in: It felt like it all moved so fast after that.
“God,” Mako muttered, “how did it ever come to this?”
There was a hiss, and Rat’s horn bumped Mako’s leg—he’d taken a more demonic form tonight—as he lifted his head up. “Watch it with the Names, mate. Shit hurts!”
Mako didn’t know whether or not to apologize. On the one hand, Rat was a demon, and Mako a priest. On the other hand, he hadn’t ever known the happiness he had with Rat before he came across the demon.
He’d met Rat after being called on by a young couple downtown to clear out their new apartment of negative spirits; the previous occupant had been murdered, apparently. He had felt a weird sort of energy in the dwelling, and he’d gone around with some holy water, giving a quick prayer in each room. He didn’t personally believe in bad spirits, but it was his duty to be spiritually available to the people in his community, so he did what he’d been taught and then went home.
He hadn’t realized he’d brought back any souvenirs until he woke up to grim writing in blood on his mirror one morning: “Nice place you got here.”
Because of course he would get a cheeky demon haunting him.
He’d been about to cleanse his apartment when the words on the mirror vanished and were replaced with, “I’m homeless. Kicked out of hell, will help pay rent!” Mako could honestly barely believe it. A demon, offering to pay a priest to live in his house. This was clearly a test of his faith.
But he weighed the pros and the cons, and he realized that if he had a demon—albeit a rather chaotic neutral one—living with him, he might be able to get insights into the spiritual world he’d been taught about, but never been able to see. Not to mention, rent was expensive in this neighborhood.
“Fine,” he’d said, “But you gotta cut it out with the blood.”
There had been no response, but the next day there had been a knock on his door, and he opened it to a scruffy looking young man in a ragged black hoodie and dirty, ripped-up jeans.
“G’day, mate! Heard ya lookin’ for someone to split ya rent with?” His tone was cheery and self-assured. He seemed like a normal homeless person at a glance, but when Mako looked closer, he noticed that the man smiled with rather pointy teeth, and his irises were an unnatural shade of yellow.
Mako smirked. “You look like someone scraped you out of a gutter. How are you gonna pay rent?”
“Oh, a bloke’s got his ways.” He dug into the pocket of his hoodie and pulled out a wad of cash. Even at a glance, Mako knew it was already more than half his monthly rent.
“Do I really want to know how you got that?”
“Nah,” the man said with laugh, and he shoved it into Mako’s hands before sliding past him and into the house… where he stopped immediately and flinched hard.
“Aw, fuck. That’s gotta go.” Mako turned around and looked to see that the demon was pointing at the small cross hanging on the wall. “If I’m gonna live here, ya gonna need ta do a little redecoratin’.”
“How do I know you won’t kill me in my sleep, or try to possess me? I need all the help I can get,” Mako said, folding his arms.
The demon whirled around to face Mako, a look of exasperation on his face. “Not my problem, mate. Ya shoulda thought about tha' before ya invited a demon inta ya flat.”
“I didn’t invite you, you followed me home like a creep!”
The demon threw his hands into the air. “You kicked me outta me apartment, and I pissed off too many blokes in hell ta be able ta go back. And even then, they’re still huntin’ me! For once, there’s no safer place than tha house of a priest for a demon ta hide. Don’t you lot care about sanctuary and whatnot?”
Mako had to stop and think about that. It’s not like he lived in a church, so sanctuary didn’t technically apply, but... oh, fuck. The demon was giving him puppy eyes now. Look, demon or not, here was a lost soul, in need of guidance and protection from the wrath of the Devil and his hellfire.
Mako sighed and rubbed a hand across his face. “I’ll take down the ones in the kitchen and living room, but that’s it.”
The demon grinned at him. “I’ll take what I can get!” With that, Mako walked over to the wall and took the cross down, tucking it into a drawer.
Immediately, the demon seemed to relax, and he flopped down onto the couch. “You’re a real easy bloke ta get along with. This is gonna be the start of a beautiful friendship, I can tell!”
So began their unusual relationship. Mako hadn’t had roommates since college, and even then, he’d never really interacted with them. He was a solitary person, and living with someone again was something he’d have to adjust to… especially someone as vivacious as the demon.
After a while, it felt weird just calling him ‘demon’—he wouldn’t be able to call him that in front of other people, God forbid—so he’d tried to get the demon to tell him his true name. Unfortunately, it was to no avail; so when he tried to come up with a name for him, the only thing he could focus on was that he was a scrawny, disheveled-looking thing. ”You look like a sewer rat,” he’d chuckled, but decided to keep thinking. However, the demon immediately and stubbornly refused to be called anything but ‘Rat’.
“They’re cute lil’ beasties, used ta own a few!” He’d said, tone fond.
So ‘Rat’ stuck as a name, and Rat himself stuck to Mako like glue. He followed Mako everywhere Mako would let him, with the exception of church, obviously. But at mealtimes and whenever Mako would sit down to relax and watch TV, Rat would always be nearby, staring at Mako like there was nothing more interesting in the world. He’d ask questions about Mako’s life, what he liked, if he was “seeing anyone that Rat should know about”...
Mako flushed at that. “Don’t be ridiculous, I’m a priest.”
“Yeah, so what?”
He heaved a sigh and stood. “Priests can’t be in relationships.”
“Hooley dooley... I’d say that sounded like Hell, but it’s really more of a free love kind’a place down there.” Roadhog rolled his eyes at that.
Occasionally, Mako would convince Rat to talk more about his past. He found out a few things: Rat was a demon who refused to bow to the hellish hierarchy, and that was one of the reasons he’d been kicked out; he also was not, apparently, the spirit of the murdered apartment-dweller like Mako had thought previously.
Slowly but surely, the two of them were getting each other to open up. Mako would talk more freely with him at mealtimes, and he grew less and less worried that Rat would kill him in his sleep; it’d been a few months into their time together, and he hadn’t done it yet, after all. As it was, his sleep was often troubled enough that the last thing he needed was for someone else to muck it all up.
The thing was, Mako’s life had been anything but pleasant before he joined the priesthood—not that being a man of the cloth had made things much better. He had a lot of unhappy memories that he would rather leave behind; unfortunately, while he was able to ignore them by day, they all taunted him in his sleep. Needless to say, nightmares were fairly common occurrences for him.
He’d been able to keep this fact from Rat for the past several months, solely by virtue of sleeping in his bedroom while Rat slept on the sofa. One night however, they’d been up late watching soap operas, and Mako had dozed off while still on the couch.
Then the torment began. He never got used to it, no matter how many times it happened to him. Bitter memories, frightening memories, memories of people he hadn’t been able to save, they all assaulted him over and over again. It seemed like there would be no end, but suddenly, everything stopped, and was replaced with a black calmness. It was like all the tension evaporated from him, and the sensation was so strange that he woke up.
There, standing over him with a palm on his forehead, was Rat. “Hey,” he said softly. “You were havin’ a bad dream, mate, so I took care of it for ya.”
“What? What do you mean?” He was still slightly disoriented.
“I’m the kind’a demon what feeds off negative energy. Ya had too much to handle, so I took some off’a your plate, and well, put it on me own, so ta speak.” Rat almost looked a little bashful.
“Wait, does that mean I’ll never have a nightmare again?” Mako wanted to hope, but it seemed almost too good to be true.
“No,” he said, confirming his fears. Now Rat looked even more nervous. “But long as I’m ‘round, I can help ya through it.”
… well, if taking the cross off his bedroom wall was the only concession he had to make to have peaceful sleep, he’d take it. Well, it wasn’t the only one, but Mako found he didn’t mind the demon’s company at all anymore—in fact, he’d stretch so far as to say he enjoyed it—so sharing a bed with Rat didn’t seem too bad.
It felt like it all moved so fast after that. One late night over a bottle of wine found them having their first kiss--something slow and experimental that quickly grew passionate. And now, a month later—and with even more wine out of the way—he was on his back on his bed, Rat between his legs with a sultry grin on his face, his tongue poking out teasingly.
“Now, can I get back ta work here?” Cheeky as ever.
“Yeah,” Mako said, voice slightly shaky, but next to no doubt in his mind.
Rat ducked back down, nipping lightly at Mako’s thighs and sending shivers up his spine. He gave a slow lick up the length up his cock, tongue coiling inhumanly around his prick. Mako moaned, loud and only slightly embarrassed, trying hard not to buck up into the touch.
He should be resisting this, a demon of hell tempting him to break his vow of celibacy with sinful gay sex… he just couldn’t be bothered, though. He’d known for a long time that he preferred men, even if he’d hidden that part of himself since he’d joined the church. And it felt so good. It was as though Rat was working pure magic with his tongue.
He moved off of Mako’s cock with a loud slurping sound, and he sunk even lower; Mako froze as his tongue brushed up against his hole. Rat petted his thighs gently, reassuringly, and murmured, “It’s okay, m’not gonna hurt ya.”
“Okay,” the priest said after a moment, making himself breathe out and relax. A few moments later, there was another lick, and Rat’s tongue traced around his opening in slow circles, teasing him.
Finally, Rat pushed his tongue in, an action that all but pushed a deep moan out of Mako. It had been so long since he’d felt something like this, the glorious silkiness of another man’s tongue, and the slight stretch it caused. His cock was almost completely hard now, done in by Rat’s exquisite talents.
His tongue pushed further, and kept pushing, and pushing, and pushing. It seemed like it would never end, the soft muscle sliding inside Mako and pressing up against all of his sensitive nerve endings.
There was a sudden twisting motion, and Mako all but squirmed on the bed, panting at the sensation. He heard Rat let out a muffled laugh, and Mako lightly kicked him on the shoulder in retaliation.
There was just a little more pushing, and then a sudden flick of the tongue, and it felt like sparks were lighting up Mako’s spine. “Fuck, do that again.”
Rat kindly obliged him, and this time he let out a long, low moan as Rat’s snake-like tongue nudged against the good spot inside him.
Then, there was a sudden withdrawl: Mako shuddered as he felt Rat retract his tongue halfway, and then gasped as it was shoved back in. He went boneless as Rat began to fuck him with his tongue, the delicious sliding sensation inside him driving him nuts.
Mako tossed his head back and ran his hands through his long hair, rolling his hips gently against Rat’s face. He was so lost in sensation he almost didn’t notice when Rat stopped, and he groaned at the loss of the feeling.
Rat slid up to rest his torso on Mako’s stomach, and he smiled deviously at him. “Ready ta get fucked, Mako?”
There was barely a moment of hesitation before Mako nodded and purred, “Hell yeah.”
Chapter 14: Role Reversal
“Slow down,” Hog grunted as he grabbed Junkrat’s hips to make him still.
Junkrat flopped forward onto Hog’s stomach with a whine, eyes pleading. “It feels so good, though! Ya gonna deny me when I’m so close?”
“Yes,” Hog said, firmly. Holding Junkrat’s hips in his tight grasp, he slowly moved him back and forth, a gentle thrusting motion that went deep instead of shallow, drawn out instead of jackrabbit-pace.
“Like this,” he murmured, and, locking his big legs around Junkrat, he gently pushed his ass back onto him to grind against him a bit. Then, Roadhog let go of his hips. “Slowly,” he said with a sense of finality.
Junkrat let out a soft moan, a look on his face like he was lost in the sensation of being deep inside of Roadhog. “Okay,” he sighed, straightening up before giving Roadhog a cheeky smile. “But only ‘cuz I like ya so much.”
He began to thrust on his own again, moving deep inside before pulling all the way out and repeating. When Hog clenched down on him, he almost doubled over again, eyes crossing in pleasure.
The two moved back and forth like this for a while, sweat trickling down their skin as they played off one another. Whenever Junkrat would begin to speed up, Roadhog would squeeze hard around him, almost preventing him from moving at all as he would be hit with gut-wrenching pangs of sweet bliss.
Finally, Junkrat thrust in deep enough to press against Roadhog’s prostate, and he shivered as the sensation washed over him. “Okay,” he grunted, “You can go faster if you keep doing that.”
Junkrat’s face lit up again, and he pushed forward again, trying hard to do what he’d done before. It took a thrust or two before he could reliably hit that spot, and when he could, he gradually allowed himself to pick up the pace.
The room became filled with the sounds of Roadhog’s deep moans, Junkrat’s breathless laughter, the slap of skin on skin, and the soft squeaking of the bed they lay on. The room smelled of sweat and sex, but the two hardly noticed it, focused as they were on one another.
Roadhog was the first to come, surprisingly, Junkrat having slid deep inside him and ground the tip of his cock up against Roadhog’s sweet spot. He let out a groan as he spurted up between their stomachs before pulling Junkrat close and pressing a passionate kiss to his lips.
Junkrat let out a surprised moan, and as Roadhog slipped his broad tongue into his partner’s mouth, he thrust forward one more time and shot off deep inside of the larger junker.
The two kissed until they had to come up for air, and Junkrat pulled out of Roadhog to come cuddle up close to him. They wrapped their arms around each other, just enjoying the closeness as they came down.
Chapter 15: Lingerie
Just barely in time for Halloween. Enjoy!
If the Hog had thought Jamie was gorgeous before… well, he wouldn’t have been wrong, but to see him now, clad in beautiful, lacy dark underclothes, was truly something else.
Jamie guided the Hog’s hands to roam over his body as he lay sprawled on the bed. He first traced along the black corset, laced up tight even though there was nothing to tuck in. He tenderly held one of Jamie’s hands, clothed in opaque, fingerless sleeves as his other hand moved lower to knead at his crotch through his translucent lace underwear.
Just through touch alone, the Hog could tell that Jamie was loving the attention, as his length pressed insistently against the Hog's palm through the thin fabric. Jamie squirmed beneath him and arched his back, slinging his free arm over the Hog’s shoulder to pull him into a frantic kiss.
As Jamie pressed his tongue into the Hog’s mouth, he pulled him even closer with his legs—sheathed in sheer black thigh-highs—wrapped tight as they could around the Hog’s waist.
The two lovers kissed until they ran out of breath, and even then they only separated by degrees, cheek to cheek. The Hog ran a hand through Jamie’s silver hair, now much glossier than it had been before the Hog had begun to insist that Jamie take better care of his health—his work often captivated his attention past what was safe, and it was up to the Hog to make sure he didn’t strain himself too much.
“Oh Hoggie,” Jamie breathed. “I mighta brought ya ta life, but I never knew that I hadn’t been livin’ til I made you.” He licked a stripe down the side of the Hog’s neck, causing the behemoth to let out a rumble of pleasure. “Ya make me feel like a man worth lovin’.”
“You are,” the Hog said, lovingly pressing his snout against Jamie’s cheek. “You always were.”
With that, he grabbed Jamie by the hips and flipped the two of them. He couldn’t resist a switch every now and then; Jamie just looked so good on top of him. “You wanna ride me?”
Jamie laughed giddily, and ground down onto the Hog’s crotch; the sensation of the silky cloth felt truly wonderful. “It would be my pleasure, mate.”
Chapter 16: Mask Kink
Hog’s damn mask. So sexy, so infuriating. Junkrat longed to see the face beneath it, even if just for a moment.
The most he’d ever seen of Hog’s features had been his mouth, whenever he’d lift it up to eat whatever they’d scrounged up in the wastes that day. Of course, there was also the occasional reveal whenever he’d raise it to get his mouth around Junkrat’s cock, or to eat him out. Junkrat loved it when that happened.
At the same time, the mask had its own allure. The anonymity, the feel of the worn leather, not to mention the intimidation factor… it was all too much, and at the same time, not enough.
Speaking of the feel of worn leather—Junkrat loved the sensation of it on his tongue.
Hog had been giving him a fantastic gobbie, probably the best Junkrat had ever gotten in his life. Big soft lips, a broad tongue, no gag reflex since there wasn’t anything that was too big for Hog’s mouth. It was heaven.
As Junkrat had raced toward his orgasm, he’d suddenly gotten a wonderful idea. Just before he came, he’d pulled out of the warmth of Hog’s mouth to release across his face. Hog was always quick to figure him out, and he’d tilted his head down so that Junkrat’s load missed his mouth and splattered over the mask instead.
Roadhog had been a little ticked off at that, but he still seemed to be in a playful mood, since the ‘punishment’ he gave Junkrat was to clean off his cum with his tongue.
Ha! If that was the punishment, he’d have to unload on Hog more often.
Junkrat waited eagerly as Hog sat down on the edge of the bed, and the minute he pulled the mask down, Junkrat was all over him, laving his tongue across the weather-beaten leather to lick up his release. He worshipped that mask with his mouth, gently teasing the stitches with his teeth, occasionally lapping at tip of the snout. He even pressed little sucking kisses on the lenses.
He could already feel himself getting a bit of a stiffie again.
When he had finally finished, he sat back on his heels in front of Roadhog, who stood up, joints only creaking a bit. He cupped Junkrat’s cheek in his hand, and Junkrat could hear the smile in his voice when he murmured, “Good boy.”
Then the hand on his cheek slid down, and turned quickly into a firm grip on his chin; Hog’s other hand undid his belt as he rumbled, “Now let’s see how you like it.”
Don’t mind if I fucking do.
Chapter 17: Begging
Whenever Junkrat wanted something, there was nothing that would stop him from getting it.
Nothing except his bodyguard.
Roadhog frequently had to remind Junkrat that acting on his impulses was never a good idea, but as many times as he said no, Junkrat would persist.
So he’d start whinging relentlessly until Roadhog either caved or just started ignoring him completely. But oh, how he’d beg.
“C’mon Roadie, ya saw how that bastard was starin’ at ya! Lemme at him!”
“But I want some lollies, Roadie! Let’s go hold up that store and steal 'em all! Pleeaase?”
“Hoggie, mate, I swear I’m gonna cark it if ya keep me cooped up in this tiny damn room another minute! I need ta blow somethin’ up!”
It was irritating for sure, but it was nothing Roadhog wasn’t used to. He’d gotten better and better at denying Junkrat’s inane requests; it was for his own safety, whether he realized it or not.
There was only one occasion where Hog found he was powerless to resist, where he didn’t want to resist.
Where he wanted to hear Junkrat beg.
“All mine, aren’t you?” Hog growled, one hand tight around Junkrat’s cock while the other pinned him down to prevent him from rutting into Hog’s grip.
“Yes! F-fuck, Hoggie, I want ya so bad, jus’ bugger me already!”
Not good enough. Roadhog gave Junkrat’s prick one torturously slow stroke, pulling a moan from his lips. “What do you want, Rat?”
“You, Hoggie! Want—” He stuttered as Roadhog let go of him and ran a finger down his taint to circle his hole. “Ffffuck, want ya thick dick!”
“What would you do for this cock?” He said, emphasizing his works by pulling his hand away from Junkrat to give his own length a squeeze.
“Anything ya want! I need it, I need you!”
“Good,” he rumbled, a grin spreading across his face. He grabbed a bottle of lube from the bedside table and used it to slick up his fingers. “‘Cause I’m gonna make you squeal.”
Chapter 18: Masturbation
This is the first piece in a three-part series!
Sometimes, after a long day, even Junkrat needed to relax. They’d just pulled off a big heist at a nearby bank, and while they made it out with their stolen loot, the police chase had been tense, with multiple cop cars hot on their tails. It had taken some masterful maneuvering from Roadhog to make them lose their trail, but it had been too close; Junkrat wasn’t used to so much stress.
Now, from the safety of their hotel room, Junkrat finally had time to unwind. He leaned back on the worn bed, only glancing quickly at the bathroom door that separated him from Roadhog before sticking his flesh hand in his pants. He wanted something to occupy him while Hog showered, and there was nothing better for that than a quick wank.
He started off by sliding his fingers down the length of his cock, just sort of tracing the tips over himself. Soon, the motion turned into a loose hold, something he could easily thrust into, with just enough friction to make it worthwhile. He slipped his right pointer finger into his mouth, metal cool on his tongue, and started to suck on it. Wasn’t as nice as Roadie’s cock, but he could make do.
Speaking of Roadie’s cock: now there was some jerk-off material right there. He swirled his tongue around his finger in the same way he knew Roadhog liked. He’d drag his teeth over it if it weren’t for the awful noise it would make. He decided to think of another noise instead.
Roadhog had a good moan. It was low and rumbly, and while it was usually such a soft sound, Junkrat cherished whenever he could make Roadhog loud. A moan of his own slipped out at the thought.
He loved it whenever Roadie would praise him, too. God, he’d do anything to hear Roadhog call him his good boy, to tell him he was doing well. He tightened his grip further, and the friction felt so good.
Junkrat pulled his finger from his mouth with a sigh, and he lowered it down to tease the rim of his hole, spreading his saliva over the tight muscle before slipping his finger in. Sure, he normally preferred his flesh hand for this, but there was something about how heavy the pressure felt—how unyielding the metal was when it opened him up—that he just couldn’t replicate without a plug. He let out a louder, longer moan, and this time, there was an answering sound.
There was a soft squeak that came from the other side of the room, and Junkrat quieted for a moment as he realized that it was the sound of the bathroom door opening ever so slightly. He waited, but Roadhog didn’t come out; rather, he heard the soft sound of Roadhog’s ragged breathing.
A smile spread across his face. So, Roadhog wanted to listen, eh? In that case, Rat was going to have to give him a show.
He began to pump the finger in and out, a bit too fast considering the meager amount of lubrication, but the ache of the stretch felt so nice that it didn’t really matter. He sighed and moaned as he fucked himself on his finger, growing increasingly louder. He didn’t care if he sounded like he was in a shitty porno, he wanted to make sure that Roadhog could hear him.
He increased the speed of his hand, pumping it up and down rapidly, spreading precum as it welled up at the tip. Soon, the slick sound his hand made on his cock joined the litany of noises filling up the room.
He wondered what Hog was doing behind that door. Was he just listening? Or was his hand creeping to his own cock, jerking it to the sound of Junkrat’s moans? Junkrat pictured his thick fingers caressing his even thicker cock, playing with the ring at the tip of the slit, or maybe rubbing against the bars that ran up the length of his shaft.
How could Junkrat help him along?
A thought crossed his mind, and he grinned before he sighed out, “Roadie”, giving his cock a squeeze as he did. “Oh, fuck, Roadie.” The door ticked open ever so slightly again, and he couldn’t help but give a triumphant laugh as he raced toward his finish.
He just needed a little more, and he imagined it was the same for his partner just behind the door. He thought hard as he fucked into the tight ring of his hand; calling his name seemed to have gotten his interest even more, but then again, Roadhog wasn’t his real name. What was his real name? He knew Roadhog had told him. Matthew? Martin? Marco?
Suddenly, it came to him, and as he pushed his finger in until it brushed against that sensitive bundle of nerves, he cried out, “Mako!” He thrust rapidly into his hand as he released, spurts of cum leaking down his cock and over his fingers.
He let out a happy sigh and went boneless on the bed. “Ya enjoy tha appetizer, mate?” he called out.
Slowly, the door creaked open, and Roadhog stepped out, towel around his waist doing the bare minimum to hide the obviously hard length behind it. A grin spread across that scarred face, and he replied, “Delicious.”
He walked over to the bed to stand over Junkrat, and he extended a hand. “Makes me glad I decided to ask you if you wanted to join me in the shower.”
Junkrat laughed, and grabbed it to pull himself up. “Ready for tha main course?”
“I can’t wait.”
Chapter 19: Voyeurism
This is a continuation of the last chapter (2/3).
Roadhog, personally, felt exhausted. For every heist that went right, there was one that went wrong, or very nearly avoided disaster—as far too many of them did. He was honestly surprised his hair wasn’t white from stress yet.
But they made it out safely, and now it was time to lie low. Hog had a sort of post-crime cooldown that he liked to indulge in to make up for the hecticness of his day-to-day life: he liked to pull off his gear, take a nice warm shower to wash away the grit, soot and blood, and then he’d read a book before going to bed.
Junkrat, being the horny kid he was, usually managed to fit a round or two of sex in between the first and last step; still, it seemed like he was pretty worn out too… maybe he’d be asleep by the time he finished his shower. It was a very rare occurrence, but Hog had seen it happen before.
He slipped into the bathroom to shed his clunky gear, relishing the feeling of fresh air on stifled skin. He turned on the shower, and the pipes rattled for a bit before the water gushed out. It was clean, though, so that was good enough for him.
He put out a hand to test the heat of the spray, and watching it wash away the grime gave him pause: Junkrat was probably even dirtier than he was right now, and if he went to sleep that way, he’d foul up the bed. With this thought in mind, he resolved to go ask him if he’d like to join him in the shower.
His hand had been on the knob of the door when he suddenly heard a very suspicious noise coming through the thin wood. He paused for a minute, and when he heard the sound again, this time a little louder, he pushed the door open a crack to listen better.
When he first started bodyguarding for Junkrat, he’d learned to tune out most of the various little sounds that Junkrat would make on a daily basis—snickering, giggling, hissing, burping, et cetera. Over time, though, he’d gained an appreciation for most of them, especially the laughter. The one sound he could never get enough of, though, was Junkrat’s moaning.
Something about it was just so intoxicating to him. The sheer amount of lust he could pack into a single vocalization still amazed him. He knew that if he walked out of the door, it would stop. Sure, it would probably lead to sex, but that would distract him from the actual sound of it. So call him a dirty old man, but Roadhog wanted nothing more than to just hear Junkrat in this moment.
The noises stopped for a brief moment, and Roadhog was almost sure that Junkrat had noticed the door, but the wonderful sounds started up again a moment later, and Roadhog relaxed.
Just focusing on what he could hear, he was able to get a pretty good idea of what Junkrat was doing. There was the subtle creak of bedsprings, so Roadhog could only imagine him writhing on the bed in pleasure. There was a subtle but rapid shlick-ing noise that Roadhog knew was the sound his hand on his cock.
Roadhog’s own cock was beginning to press insistently against the towel around his waist, and he ghosted his hand over it to alleviate some of the growing need, and ended up unintentionally squeezing hard as Junkrat suddenly moaned out for him.
He became breathless for a moment, just barely stopping himself from pitching forward as a wave of heat pulsed through him. The door rocked open another inch, but it seemed like Junkrat was distracted enough to not notice. God, Roadhog desperately wanted to know what was going on in his head.
Junkrat kept calling out for him, the desire in his voice taking Roadhog over and leaving no room in his mind for anything but Junkrat. He kept stroking over his cock through the towel, trying to get rid of some of the desperation while keeping himself from coming.
He almost lost that battle when Junkrat suddenly cried out his name, his real name, and Roadhog grunted quietly as he quickly tightened his hand around the base of his cock, a last ditch attempt to hold on before he pitched over the edge. He listened, heart pounding in his chest as he heard Junkrat come down from his orgasm.
“Ya enjoy tha appetizer, mate?”
Roadhog froze upon hearing those words, beginning to almost feel a little bashful before realizing the implication of Junkrat’s words. He tightened the towel around his waist before leaving the bathroom. As he took in the sight of Junkrat, chest heaving with just a bit of sweat running down his face, his pupils blown with arousal, he couldn’t help but give a tiny smile.
“Delicious,” he rumbled, and he stretched out a hand to his spread-eagled companion. “Makes me glad I decided to ask you if you wanted to join me in the shower.”
Junkrat cackled at that, and he heaved himself up with Roadhog’s help. “Ready for tha main course?”
Roadhog’s grin grew wider. “I can’t wait.”
It looked like the two of them were going to get a bit dirtier before they got clean.
Big thanks to Thyme-Basalt for getting me to finish the chapter :)
Chapter 20: Shower Sex
This is the final part of three. Enjoy!
Junkrat didn’t know what Hog had had in mind for him, but this, just showering, was not what he’d hoped for.
He’d been good for the first few minutes, waiting for Hog to get the getting on going, but all Roadhog did was start scrubbing him down, cleaning off the soot that clung to his face, chest and back. It was a small deception, but he pouted nonetheless.
Once Hog’d finally finished that, he’d started to let his free hand wander lower. Junkrat was excited for a minute, but then his mood soured when all that hand did was hold his hips in place while his other hand sponged away what was left of the cum from his first orgasm.
He hissed and squirmed a bit, thoroughly done with being washed, but all Roadhog had to do was chuckle in that nice, deep way he always did and pull him back against his chest. He pressed little, chaste kisses to Junkrat’s now clean shoulders and back as he finished cleaning his torso and chest. Try as Junkrat might, he simply wasn’t strong enough, in body or will, to get away from this torment.
Then, Junkrat had the idea to lean into Hog’s embrace, like he’d accepted his fate. “There we go,” Roadhog murmured, “Just take it easy—” Then Rat ground his ass against Roadhog’s dick.
Rather than get annoyed, like Rat thought he might, Hog actually just laughed. “Impatient?” The hand on Junkrat’s hip slid further down to trace around the inside of his thigh.
Junkrat shivered despite the humidity of the room, whining, “C’mon, Roadie, thought we were gonna root!”
“Was gonna give you a break first, since you just came.”
Junkrat cackled, “Since when has that ever stopped me?” He rubbed against Hog’s now half-hard cock, and this time, the larger man dug his fingers into the meat of Junkrat’s thigh; Rat hooted in both surprise and excitement. “C’mon, big guy, give it ta me!”
Roadhog placed a soft kiss on the nape of Junkrat’s neck, and he resisted the urge to go gooey at the gesture. Then, Hog’s hands abruptly spun Rat around, and while he was suddenly faced with the tricky task of trying to keep his balance on his one leg, one of Hog’s big hands cradled his lower back, while the other lifted his leg up against his belly. Rat almost reeled at the quick transition, suddenly finding his back pressed against the tiled wall of the shower while water streamed onto his lower stomach, held in place as he was pressed against Hog.
“Know how ta sweep a bloke off his feet, don’cha?”
Hog chuckled, and he freed the hand holding Rat’s leg to gather both of their cocks in one big fist, stroking them with a quick hand. Rat arched his back, gasping as he felt the sensation of the cool metal of Roadhog’s piercings rubbing across his length, but his position prevented him from being able to properly rut into Roadhog’s grip.
He panted and squirmed in place until Hog’s cock was finally completely hard, and he was barely given another moment before Hog thrusted it between Rat’s thighs. Rat was initially overwhelmed by sensation, but he quickly got the message, and he pressed his legs together with his hand to give Roadhog some friction.
Roadhog huffed at the sudden pressure, and he drew his hips back slowly before sliding forward to the hilt, his own length rubbing against Junkrat’s as the water from the showerhead slicked the way nicely.
Junkrat wanted nothing more than to just sprawl out and let the warm feeling simmering in his gut take him over. A particularly nice thrust made him toss his head back… only to crack it into the shower wall. “Fuck!”
Roadhog chuckled. “You’re a disaster.”
“I’m a—“ he broke off to moan as Roadhog used his roaming hand to give Rat’s cock a stroke, which helped take his attention away from the smarting in his head, “I’m a beautiful disaster, though, ain’ I?”
Roadhog hummed in agreement, and he used his free hand to caress Junkrat’s cheek; Junkrat smiled and pressed a kiss to the rough palm before laving his tongue over one of Hog’s large fingers. Deciding to go with the gesture, Hog pressed a digit into Junkrat’s willing mouth, letting out a soft moan as Junkrat let the finger slip deeper inside, swirling his tongue around it eagerly.
His attention was quite suddenly brought back to the friction between his legs as Hog gave a hard thrust before grinding down on Junkrat’s dick in an echo of what Rat had done to him earlier; the skinny junker cried out in surprise and pleasure, but the sound was muffled by the thick finger in his mouth.
Junkrat imagined that this was what prompted Hog to slide out of the cusp of his mouth, the lingering trail of spit quickly broken by the pelting water. Junkrat lifted his hips as much as he could, trying to buck against Roadhog and get some more delicious pressure. There was a lewd slapping sound as flesh quickly met flesh, and Junkrat let out a moan as he clenched his thighs even tighter than before.
It didn’t take much longer for Roadhog to cum after that. With a low groan, Hog gave a final thrust and spilled across Junkrat’s stomach, the trails of white quickly washed away by the spray of the showerhead.
Junkrat gave him a few moments to recover, but he couldn’t deny the throbbing heat he felt, and he thrusted his hips again. Roadhog quickly put a stop to that by grabbing his hips to still him; before Rat could protest, however, Hog was lifting him up so that his thighs were slung over his shoulders, his back was pressed to the wall, and his still hard cock was mere inches away from Hog’s lips.
Rat giggled, high and excited, before breaking off into a filthy moan as Roadhog took his cock into his mouth, soft lips sliding over the sensitive skin. His left hand pressed Junkrat’s hip into the wall while his right pinned his chest, and Junkrat panted as he let Hog have his way with him, the pace drawing out his orgasm while stopping just short of being maddening.
Junkrat felt himself getting close before long. The smooth sensation of Roadhog’s tongue piercing sliding on the underside of his dick was what eventually drove him over the edge, and he let out a gasp and a trilling sigh as he filled Roadhog’s mouth.
The sensation of Hog swallowing around him was almost too much after his second orgasm in an hour, and thankfully, Hog let him down from his perch on his shoulders and held him steady as he finished washing the both of them. Junkrat, too tired to put up a fuss at this point, was content to let him.
This chapter was a bitch and a half to write, and I have no clue why. Thanks for being patient, everyone!
A soul is really such a small price to pay, Dr. Junkenstein thought, for all the gifts I have been given. The Hog had already been more than he could’ve ever hoped for, and that was before the Witch had seen fit to let him create a second life, this time in the form of his bright, curious Hayseed.
The Hog and Hayseed couldn’t be more different from each other, but that didn’t matter in the slightest: the doctor loved them both equally. Sometimes he needed Hog’s stoicism and strength, and sometimes he enjoyed Hayseed’s jittery excitement. Between the two of them, Junkenstein was never found wanting; given his previously solitary life, the introduction of two companions who cared for him as much as he cared for them was best thing to ever happen to him.
Three years had passed since the creation of the Hog, and two since Hayseed entered their lives, and Junkenstein thought it was long overdue for all three of them to celebrate their unique bond.
Still, the question was on how to do it.
While they generally coexisted peacefully, Junkenstein had hesitated to have all three of them in the same bedroom, because… well, because Hayseed had a possessive streak. He never outright said it, but Junkenstein could tell that he was a little jealous of the Hog.
It wasn’t that the doctor neglected Hayseed; no, he loved the time they spent together. Hayseed brought out Junkenstein’s more dominant side, which was something that didn’t really show itself when he was with the Hog. And in much the same way, when he felt submissive, he gravitated toward his larger companion. It was an even balance, most of the time, so Hayseed didn’t really have much to be jealous about.
Still, Junkenstein knew better than to overlook Hayseed’s self-consciousness; he knew all about being insecure, having spent most of his life an outcast. So with all this in mind, Junkenstein began to hatch a plan. He knew he had to be clever about it, but he wasn’t a doctor for the nothing.
The first step was obviously to tell the Hog about it: things would run much more smoothly if he was in on it. Fortunately for Junkenstein, the Hog didn’t have the same reservations as Hayseed. After all, the Hog had been present for Hayseed’s creation, and upon seeing him jolt to life and immediately start surveying the room with wide, inquisitive eye sockets, he’d chuckled and rumbled, “Kinda reminds me of you.”
The remark hadn’t made sense to him at first, because there wasn’t a huge amount of visual resemblance; after all, intact faces were hard to come by in graveyards, so Hayseed’s own was stitched into a whole from individual pieces. But after careful observation, he soon realized that Hog meant his natural curiosity, intelligence, and aptitude for fiddling with whatever metal scraps Junkenstein gave him. He was immensely intrigued that the Hog had been able to see that from the start.
Still, despite their similarities, the major difference between Hayseed and Junkenstein was that Hayseed wasn’t crazy about the Hog, and the Hog knew it. Initially, when Junkenstein broached the subject with his first creation, the Hog was reluctant to give his approval. But once he heard out Junkenstein’s plan, he’d agreed that if they were going to do it, then this was the best course of action.
With the Hog’s blessing, it only became a matter of when to put things in motion. He figured he’d wait until he felt the mood was right, and fortunately for him, it happened only a few nights later, while the three of them sat in Junkenstein’s study. The Hog reposed in one of the sturdier chairs, a book in hand; Hayseed sat on the floor beside Junkenstein’s desk and tinkered with some old gears and spare parts while Junkenstein toiled away on an old equation he’d been struggling with for a while.
He’d mainly been focused on his own work—occasionally casting sideways glances to observe the scarecrow’s progress—when Hayseed suddenly leaned his head against the doctor’s knee, gently nuzzling it. Junkenstein took that as a welcome cue to finally tear himself away from his work, and he looked down at Hayseed fondly, lowering a hand to tousle his hair.
“I think,” Junkenstein murmured, “I could use a little bit of a break.” Hayseed immediately perked up, staring up at him with excitement in his flame-filled sockets. The doctor couldn’t help but smile at his creation’s eagerness. “What’cha think? Want ta come help me blow off some steam?”
“Yes!” Hayseed nodded enthusiastically, a snaggle-toothed grin spreading across his face. Junkenstein cherished seeing Hayseed smile, because whenever they left the castle, Hayseed would become self-conscious about his appearance, and it wasn’t long before he’d cobbled together a burlap mask to hide behind in their ventures to other towns. Fortunately, he felt comfortable enough in the castle to take off the mask and let his hair down, both figuratively and literally.
Junkenstein patted his leg expectantly, and Hayseed only hesitated for a moment before hopping up into his master’s lap. From there, it was only a small distance to cross before Junkenstein wrapped his arms around his creation, and he pulled him closer to press their lips together in a kiss. Hayseed was somewhat of a slobbery kisser, but Junkenstein appreciated it nonetheless; he immensely enjoyed Hayseed’s overflowing passion.
Junkenstein lavished his attention on him, kissing and licking up the side of his creation’s neck, listening to Hayseed hum happily as he leaned into the doctor’s touch. One of Junkenstein’s hands cupped his arse, while the other pressed at the small of his back, keeping him close. One of Hayseed’s hands slowly sneaked its way down from Junkenstein’s shoulders to lightly rub at the half-hard length pressing against him through his master’s tights.
Junkenstein moaned at the touch, and he pulled away from his partner to look him in they eyes as he ran his hand through Hayseed’s mop of hair. “I wanna celebrate being with ya both. It’s really past due, I think.”
“... both?” Hayseed asked, looking at him in confusion before realization flooded his features. He shifted to stare over Junkenstein’s shoulder at the Hog who, based on the blush spreading across Hayseed’s cheeks, had been shamelessly watching the whole thing.
The scarecrow’s metal hand unconsciously squeezed Junkenstein’s shoulder with enough force to make it ache, and Junkenstein was quick to remove it from its perch so that he could clasp it in one of his own hands. He turned Hayseed’s head back to him, a reassuring smile on his face. “I won’t make ya do anything you’re not comfortable with, but I’d love ta be able to spend time with both a ya at once. Would ya be okay with that?”
Hayseed’s gaze flicked back to the Hog for a moment as he hemmed and hawed, before settling to meet Junkenstein’s eyes. Then he gave a small smile, and nodded decisively.
“Brilliant!” Junkenstein grinned, and he gave Hayseed a peck on the lips. “I’m gonna take good care of ya, darl. But first, I think the bedroom will be more comfortable for this.”
Hayseed nodded again, and stood up so that Junkenstein could get out of his chair. He looped one of his arms around the scarecrow’s waist before turning to the Hog. “C’mon, Hoggy. Can’t do it without ya!”
The larger creation huffed out a laugh at that, and he bookmarked his page before rising to his feet to follow the other two men into Junkenstein’s chambers. Junkenstein flicked a switch at the entrance to fill the room with dim yellowish light. Now, electric devices weren’t all that common in Adlersbrunn, but he was a scientist; how could he not have the latest tech? Besides, the soft glow was great for setting a mood.
They stopped just short of the bed—a luxurious canopy four-poster with a mirror behind it on the wall—and Junkenstein gave Hayseed’s waist a squeeze before gesturing to it. Hayseed quickly hopped on and sprawled on his back, looking up expectantly at the doctor, who wasted no time in straddling his creation. He rolled his hips slowly, and Hayseed arched up into the motion, a delighted sound escaping his lips.
Junkenstein grinned down at him. “Ya not gonna have to worry ‘bout a single thing, Hayseed. I’m gonna take care of you,” he said, pausing a moment to grind against him again, “an’ the Hog’s gonna take care of me. Sound good?”
“But…” Hayseed took a moment to find his words, sounding frustrated all of a sudden. ”What if I want to make ya feel good?”
“Aw, darl,” Junkenstein said, leaning down to press a soft kiss to Hayseed’s lips. “Then all ya just gotta do is let me work my magic. Tonight is about all of us, not just me.”
“All of us, huh…” Hayseed murmured. He finally let out a sigh, and the tension in his body disappeared as his head flopped back onto the covers. “Okay, then.”
“Yeah,” Hayseed said, sounding more confident now. He gave a small smile, and his tone was actually teasing when he said, “Do ya magic, then, doctor.”
That was music to Junkenstein's ears. With Hayseed's admission of consent, he turned back to the Hog, and chirped, "Lube's in the bedside drawer. Ya know what ta do." Then, Junkenstein lowered himself down so that he could begin to press kisses to the side of Hayseed's throat, leaving the occasional gentle bite. These in particular made Hayseed squeak, and the noise made the desire burning in Junkenstein well up stronger than before.
As he licked over one of the harsher bites to soothe it, he felt the Hog's strong arms hug him about the waist, undoing the laces of his tights with a surprising deftness for such enormous fingers. He wriggled his hips a bit to help the larger man pull down his leggings, and he shivered when he felt cool air hit his lust-warmed skin.
Junkenstein slid down a little further, putting him closer to the Hog while also letting him take a moment to play with Hayseed's chest; he unbuttoned the scarecrow’s overalls to allow him easier access to the skin beneath. Just like Hayseed's face, his torso was littered with stitches, and he knew better than to mess with those. Still, he was able to lave his tongue over one of Hayseed's nipples, sucking on the little bud until it stiffened; all the while, Hayseed sighed and hummed beneath him.
The doctor's only warning as to the Hog's actions were the grabbing and spreading of his thighs, and he let out a gasp as he felt a cold, slick finger slide between his cheeks to circle his hole. Just as he switched his focus to the other side of Hayseed's chest, that finger began to press against the puckered muscle, and Junkenstein let out a sigh as the blunt tip of the Hog's finger slipped inside him. He could already feel a bit of a stretch, and it was wonderful.
When Hayseed started to squirm and mewl from the hyperfocused attention on his chest, Junkenstein let himself slide back even further until he was bent over the edge of the bed, head level with Hayseed’s crotch. He pulled Hayseed’s overalls completely down his hips, off his legs, and threw them to the side.
He beamed at Hayseed, who stared back as he flushed bright red. “Ya look gorgeous, Hayseed, all spread out for me.”
Hayseed whined in response, throwing an arm over his face to hide the blush that spread from his head to his shoulders. Junkenstein loved hearing the noises that Hayseed made; still, he wanted to have some more fun before getting right to the main attraction, so he busied himself with nipping at Hayseed’s inner thighs to draw little squeaks from him.
Junkenstein sucked little bruises into the skin of his left thigh as he idly pet the bundled straw that formed Hayseed’s right. He’d thoroughly distracted himself by the time the Hog pressed a second finger inside him, and he let out a surprised noise, half gasp and half laugh. It turned into a low, purring moan as the Hog began to scissor his fingers, and Junkenstein nuzzled his face into the bedding as he let the sensation take him over for a moment.
He let the Hog work him over for a bit, sighing into the covers, until he felt a hand on his head, gently twirling his hair. He looked up at Hayseed, who’d propped himself up on his metal arm to reach the scientist. Hayseed had the sort of smile on his face that he often made when he was trying not to pout, so Junkenstein smiled knowingly at him before licking his lips, covering his teeth, and sliding down to take half of Hayseed’s cock in his mouth, all in one smooth motion.
The bed rocked slightly as Hayseed flopped back on it, a breath escaping him like the sound of wind through stalks of wheat. Junkenstein bobbed his head up to lick at the head, tongue dipping into the slit before he moved down again, this time taking Hayseed to the root and giving a hard suck.
As he busied himself with Hayseed, Junkenstein finally felt the Hog withdraw his fingers. The soft slicking sounds of the Hog lubing his cock were barely audible under the sound of Hayseed’s moans, which filled the room, but Junkenstein shivered in anticipation anyway.
When the Hog’s cock pressed against Junkenstein’s loosened hole, the doctor ground his hips back against the monster, and he let out a muffled moan as, after a brief moment of resistance, the head popped inside. He could’ve sworn he heard the Hog let out a grunt as well, and he smiled a bit around Hayseed’s cock as the Hog grasped him about the waist to begin gently thrusting.
Junkenstein bobbed his head up and down, keeping in time with the Hog’s rhythm. Junkenstein squirmed when, on a deeper stroke, the tip of the Hog’s cock brushed against his prostate, teasing him with a bit of delicious sensation among his generally light thrusts.
He took a moment to rest his throat and jaw by withdrawing up to Hayseed’s tip. As he lazily swirled his tongue around it, he suddenly felt a light pressure on the top of his head. He looked up at Hayseed, who had apparently decided to ‘rest’ his hand there, to raise an eyebrow, but Hayseed wasn’t looking at him... no, he was staring at the Hog?
“Can’t ya do better than that, Hog?” Hayseed said, voice ringing out in the temporary quiet. Junkenstein felt the monster’s thrusting slow for a moment, as though he felt uncertain. Hayseed smirked, the little devil, and said, “I bet he can barely feel ya! C’mon, give the doctor ya best!”
Unable to see the Hog otherwise, Junkenstein attempted to lock eyes with him in the mirror, only to see him blushing, blushing as he stared back at Hayseed.
Well. Wasn’t that an interesting development?
Junkenstein didn’t ponder it for too much longer, though, as he was pulled from his thoughts with another thrust from the Hog, this one ever so slightly harder than the ones before. Then, as he kept eye contact with a seemingly unimpressed Hayseed, he squeezed Junkenstein’s waist with his meaty hands, and used it to pull Junkenstein back a few inches as he thrust forward.
The doctor moaned at the depth the Hog was able to reach with his new-found vigor. It wasn’t like they never fucked hard, but the doctor generally enjoyed gentle, intimate moments his creations, only preferring to get rough when he was frustrated and needed to take his mind off of whatever was angering him.
Still, there was something to be said about the Hog’s abundant strength; he found being flattened between the mattress and the monster’s stomach rather hot. Junkenstein's eyes rolled back as the Hog hit his prostate several times in rapid succession, his needy sounds muffled by the cock in his mouth.
Oh, speaking of which. The doctor refocused himself and blinked up at Hayseed, who he found gazing tenderly back at him, to his surprise. His cheeks were bright red, and the magic fire burning inside him shone bright, licking at the upper edges of where his eyes would have been. The doctor gave him an appraising stare, the intensity in his gaze only faltering with the rhythm of the Hog's thrusts. The scarecrow grinned in response, managing to look somehow cheeky and embarrassed at once.
Junkenstein pushed up slightly against the hand Hayseed was resting on his head, and the scarecrow removed it without argument. He used his newfound freedom of movement to slide back up to the tip of Hayseed's dick, laving his tongue around the head and following it up with a hard suck. Hayseed moaned, eyes closing for a moment before they fluttered open again, and when he looked once more at the doctor, the love and adoration that shone in his eyes made Junkenstein's heart beat just a little faster.
"Fuck, Doctor, ya so good to me," he whispered, and at the admission, the scientist let out a low hum that made Hayseed buck into the warmth of Junkenstein's mouth with a breathy sound, something between a sigh and a shout; regardless, it was gorgeous music to the doctor's ears. He swallowed around the hard length in his mouth before sinking down to the base again, this time lifting the hand he wasn't using to tightly grasp the bedsheets—the Hog was still going hard back there—and moving it to lightly massage the delicate, sensitive skin of his perineum.
Junkenstein was rapidly becoming aware of his impending orgasm, brought forth with the force of the Hog's powerful thrusts. The slap of skin against skin echoing in his chambers, the wetness spreading from the head of his cock and staining his bedsheets, and the growing ache in his jaw were all artifacts of this wonderful affair, and he would treasure them as memories of this encounter, but he knew it was drawing to a close. It would be amazing if they could all reach their release at the same time, but Junkenstein decided that the most important thing would be to get Hayseed off first.
So, bearing that goal in his mind, Junkenstein redoubled his efforts to focus on pleasuring the scarecrow. The doctor tightened his throat as best as he could, and he began to bob his head in earnest, tongue pressed closely to the underside of the scarecrow's cock as he pressed an exploratory finger against Hayseed's hole. He obviously hadn't been able to slick up his finger, so he just played with the puckered muscle, applying varying amounts of pressure to see what worked best.
It was a split second decision to take his mouth off of Hayseed's dick and instead grasp it tightly with his flesh hand, while he lowered his mouth to lap at Hayseed's hole with broad strokes of his tongue. The switch surprised Hayseed, and it was with a quick inhale and loud, drawn out moan that he finally let go, releasing into Junkenstein's hand, with only a few stray drops splattering onto his stomach.
Just as quickly, Junkenstein wiped his hand off on the sheets before lifting his hips to make space as he pulled Hayseed further down the bed so that they could be face to face. Junkenstein caressed his second creation's face before pressing an urgent, open-mouthed kiss to his lips. Despite still being wracked by aftershocks, the scarecrow was happy to reciprocate, and he eagerly took Junkenstein's tongue into his mouth, sucking on it in a way that made the heat in the scientist's gut almost unbearable.
Then, the Hog let out a roar behind the two of them and he pushed in deep one last time before coming, the thick fluid gushing inside Junkenstein. It was the combined feeling of fullness and being tightly embraced between his partners that pushed the doctor over the edge, and he lifted his head with an ecstatic shout as his cum pooled between his and Hayseed's stomachs.
Each member in the pile of lovers slowed, quaking with exhaustion and happy to lay against one another as they recovered—save for the Hog, of course, who slowly pulled out of Junkenstein before crawling onto the bed to cuddle alongside the scientist without crushing him. The doctor adjusted his position so that he could be sandwiched between his two partners, not caring in the slightest how sweaty they were.
The Hog pressed his snout to the back of Junkenstein's head with a few light kisses. He was, surprisingly, the first to speak. "Good?" he rumbled.
Junkenstein let out a happy sigh. "Very good, my darling."
The Hog let out a soft grunt before craning his head up to look at Hayseed. "Good?" he asked again.
Hayseed flushed a bit at the question, and he hesitated a bit before finally settling on, "It was alright."
Junkenstein laughed at that. "We can keep experimenting. Next time, it will be more than 'alright'."
Judging by the look in Hayseed's eyes, he'd recognized from Junkenstein's tone that he was making a statement, rather than a prediction.
And, to Junkenstein's utter delight, he seemed intrigued.
This is likely the precursor to a short, multichapter gift fic about my favorite OT3. Many thanks to Thyme_Basalt for the beta! Hopefully I'll finish this for you at a later date.
“C’mon, Roadie, lemme seeeeee,” Junkrat begged for the umpteenth time in a row.
"No," Roadhog replied, steadfast in his insistence. He wasn't going to take off his mask for the little rat, no matter how much he pleaded. No one got to see his face and live, and Junkrat was not going to be the exception. So what if they shared a bed? He wouldn't break the rule he'd been upholding since the Outback went to shit.
"I bet ya a right beauty under that mask," Junkrat wheedled, "and it's a crime not ta share it with the world. Well, maybe not the world, but it's a crime that ya not showing it ta me!"
"We are criminals, Rat," Hog said, nonplussed.
"Oh, you think ya so smart," Junkrat said, sticking out his tongue. He propped himself up on Roadhog's belly, reaching up to trace an exploratory hand on the side of the mask.
Roadhog grunted a warning, and the skinny junker paused for a moment. His expression softened, and he leaned his head up to press little kisses to the snout of Roadhog's mask. "Pleeease? For me? I won't tell nobody whatcha look like, I swear on me left hand!"
When Hog just looked at Junkrat quizzically, the shorter man shrugged. "What? It's me wankin' hand, so ya know I wouldn't just bet that off willy-nilly!"
Hog couldn't help but let out a laugh at that. "No, of course not." But when Junkrat looked up at Roadhog so expectantly, he couldn't keep eye contact, and he turned his head away. "My face isn't—"
"—as gorgeous as the rest a ya? Bullshit," Junkrat interrupted him. "Knowing you, ya just bein' stupid and stubborn."
"Rat..." Hog started, but Junkrat just placed a hand to the front of his mask, as though shushing him; Rat paused again, seemingly caught in the middle of a thought.
When he finally spoke again, his tone was soft, disarming. "What if we went a few inches at a time? Give ya a bit to adjust to each part ya show me."
Junkrat really knew how to chip away at his resolve. It wasn't actually a bad idea. Then, to put the final nail in the coffin, Junkrat added hopefully, "I've been dreamin' about being able ta really kiss ya."
Hog leaned his head onto Junkrat's shoulder, and the smaller junker was quick to run his hand comfortingly through his partner's hair.
It’s part of me, but it isn’t me, and I don’t want you to hate me for something like that. What he said instead was, "It's been so long."
“I know, Hoggie,” Rat replied, his tone soothing away Roadhog’s worries, even with his voice as scratchy and squawky as it was.
“You sure?” Last chance to back out. Last chance to let me keep Mako dead.
"Of course, mate. Never been more sure a anything in me life."
Roadhog felt the last of his will to fight crumble. "Okay," he sighed, and he lifted his head up, raising a hand to the buckles at the back of the mask.
Junkrat sat up straight, shifting to straddle his lap. His flesh hand found its way to the hand Roadhog left at his side, clutching it and giving it an encouraging squeeze.
As the straps loosened, Hog found himself wondering if he really wanted to do this. What if Rat rejected him after seeing what he really looked like? As strong as Roadhog was, he couldn’t bear that.
As if reading his mind, Junkrat said, "If ya really get uncomfortable, you can pull the mask back down... but ya won't know until ya try." It was the honest, loving expression Junkrat wore that gave him the strength to keep going. He was a tank running on empty, but there was a little petrol left to keep him moving.
Letting out a shallow breath, Roadhog pulled the mask forward a bit before sliding it up enough to expose his lips. He knew Rat had caught glimpses of them before when he'd eat or drink, but whenever that happened, he generally sat turned away from his partner. He'd never gotten a chance to see them up close.
On the right side of his face, his lips were plump and smooth; on the left side, they thinned out, chapped and covered in cracks. There was a small tear on that side that split his upper lip near the corner of his mouth, and it extended up, the rest of it vanishing under the mask.
Junkrat sat forward, taking in the sight. His hands twitched in his lap, almost like he wanted to reach out and touch. Still, as grabby as Rat normally was, he didn’t make the move.
Hog waited with bated breath.
"Alright," Junkrat finally said.
"... just alright?"
"Aw, don't be like that," Junkrat chided. Then, sounding a bit more coaxing, he added, "C'mon, give us few more inches."
Steeling himself, Roadhog raised the mask a bit more, up to the top of his nose. From here, Rat could be able to see how the rest of the scar parting his cheek rose up against dark red, pitted skin; snaking its way up to the bridge where it finally tapered out to a close. On the right side of his face, angry red lines scored his cheek, where something had rent its claws down his face.
Junkrat just kept staring, drinking in the sight of his features, his gaze piercing through Hog. Was that nervousness in his eyes? Eagerness? Junkrat was normally so easy to read. "Okay, more."
Roadhog found himself worrying at his lip, and reigned his features back in to neutral. He finally lifted the mask all the way up, until it rested haphazardly at the top of his head. The claw marks extended further up from his cheek to cross over his right eye, though fortunately, the eyeball itself had been spared from injury. On the other side, the burnt expanse of skin continued up to his lower lid, where the bottom of the socket drooped down and away. The red finished at his scalp, where a small patch of hair was missing, and would never grow again.
Hog finally noticed that he'd glanced away from Junkrat, unable to look at him as he finally exposed a part of himself he'd hidden away for the longest time, a part of himself he swore no one could ever see. A sign of weakness and failure, when he hadn't been fast enough, strong enough. He just… he couldn’t make himself look at his partner.
Then, there was a soft touch at his scarred cheek, and Junkrat cupped it to turn Hog’s head toward him. Hog could stay resolute. No force on Earth could move him then, but… this was Junkrat: he’d always been the exception. Hog raised his gaze to meet his partner’s.
Junkrat was staring at him as though he'd never seen anything so utterly captivating in his life.
"I knew it,” he said, sounding so excited that Roadhog was thrown off his guard. “There weren't a damn thing under that piggie mask that could make me think less a ya."
Hog felt his breath catch. "You—" aren't disgusted, aren't frightened, aren't regretting this, "—are so fucking... sappy, Rat," Hog finally managed to say, feeling what remained of his cheeks flush.
"What?" Rat said indignantly. "Aren't I allowed to think you're the most handsome bloke on the whole damn planet?"
"Are you sure you just don't have a kink for ugly old drongos like me?" Hog asked bluntly.
Junkrat laughed at that and scooted nearer, pushing himself up against Roadhog’s stomach; this close, Hog could feel Rat's half-hard cock pressing against him. "No, but I might have a kink for fuckers so strong that they've survived every damn thing the world's thrown at 'em!" Rat’s tone was sultry, his gaze almost predatory, and Roadhog shivered.
When he couldn't find the words to reply, Junkrat added, "Those are trophies, mate, proof that there ain't a single thing that can end you in this wasteland. Can ya fault me for finding that sexy as hell?"
Roadhog finally grinned a bit at that, and Junkrat let out a happy sound at the sight. "Fuck, mate, ya so cute when ya smile." That, of course, made him smile even wider.
Junkrat leaned up to press a kiss to each of his scarred cheeks, before proceeding to place rapid-fire smooches all over his face. The soft sensation of Rat's lips against skin so unused to anything but the rub of leather almost tickled, and he couldn't help but chuckle. The sound quieted when Rat finally settled down to kiss Roadhog square on the lips, hot and open-mouthed with a desperation like the world was about to be destroyed.
Roadhog actually groaned aloud when Junkrat took the larger junker's tongue into his mouth, sucking on it like it was Roadhog's cock. Rat's flesh hand traced small circles against the rough skin, before cupping his cheek with it.
With all the attention Junkrat was giving him, Roadhog could feel his pants getting tighter by the second. Evidently, Junkrat could too, because he moved away just a bit too quickly free his own cock from his shorts, and he fiddled fruitlessly with Roadhog's belt for a moment before the taller junker took pity on him and loosened it himself, before pulling his prick from the confines of his trousers.
Junkrat attempted to take both of their dicks in his metal hand, but it wasn't big enough, so Roadhog lent him a hand closing the gap, and with that, the two began a rhythm, stroking up and down. Junkrat was already dripping precum, so that helped to slick up their grip a bit. It still wasn't quite enough, though; Roadhog, deciding to mess with Junkrat, lifted his hand to his mouth to give it a broad lick before bringing it back down to grip themselves.
"Oh, fffuck," Junkrat moaned, bucking up into their hands, "Ya so fucking hot, mate. Ya don't even know whatcha do ta me."
"Of course I do," Roadhog grunted, "You wear your heart on your damn sleeve."
"Oh, shut ya yap, Hoggie." Rat said, before propping his chin on Roadhog's chest so he could gaze up at his face. He was looking at him like Roadhog was the stars in the sky.
"You trying to memorize my face?" Roadhog asked.
"Dunno if I'm gonna get a chance ta see it again," he panted, thrusting desperately into the tight grip.
Hog laughed at that, and sensing that Rat was close to coming, he leaned in and purred, "Maybe if you're a good boy."
Junkrat's eyes widened, and he let out a noise almost like a squawk as he shivered, before he finally released into their cupped hands.
Feeling Rat's come dripping down against their cocks, Roadhog found himself suddenly arriving at his orgasm as well, and he let out a loud moan as his spunk shot over the tops of their hands to drip down onto their stomachs.
The two finally came to a still, and Hog opened his eyes to see Rat still gazing contentedly at him through half-lidded eyes. He felt himself blushing again, and Rat smirked at him.
"I swear ta god hog, ya the cutest, sexiest cunt I ever met. Mask or no mask."
Hog felt a tightness in his chest, one he hadn't even known was there, finally vanish.
Here's a thank-you to my beta reader for this chapter, MadHattaProductions. Go show them some love!
Chapter 23: Over a Balcony
“Ain’t that a lovely sight,” Junkrat cooed, voice sounding from back inside the room. Roadhog almost missed it over the wind in his ears, and the sound of the hustle and bustle below.
Still, he turned his head and cocked it in confusion. His partner was gazing at him, transfixed from the bed. Hog looked back around at what had been occupying him before: a gorgeous view of the thrumming heart of Sydney. Their room had come with a balcony, and Hog hadn’t wasted much time in the room before leaning out over the edge to get a better look at the thrumming night life below and around them. That had to be what Rat was talking about.
“Yeah,” he grunted. “Lots of lights.”
Junkrat laughed at that, and the bed creaked slightly as he slid off it to follow Roadhog to the balcony. He sidled up behind him, and it was only a mild shock when Junkrat slid a finger right down what he could reach of his buttcrack, where it was peeking out of his overalls.
“Nah, mate,” he said, and Roadhog could hear the shit-eating grin in his voice when he continued, “was talkin’ ‘bout this lovely half-moon.”
He continued to fondle the upper portion of Roadhog’s rump, tracing stretch marks and the occasional moles that dotted his cheeks. Hog allowed this to continue for a decent stretch before rumbling, “Just gonna play around back there? Make it worth my time.”
Junkrat giggled excitedly, as though Hog had said exactly what he wanted to hear. He immediately squatted down, still cupping Roadhog’s arse, before hooking his fingers into the worn-out waist of Hog’s overalls and tugging them down.
Once they were low enough, Roadhog spread his legs, inviting the pleasure Rat was going to give him. “Ta,” Rat said cheerfully, before spreading the larger man’s cheeks and leaning close to lave his tongue across Hog’s hole.
Roadhog hummed at that first stroke, and Rat took it as an invitation to continue. He licked and pressed little, sucking kisses to the muscle, working to relax the natural tightness from it. Hog settled his elbows on the balcony railing, folding his arms to prop himself up as Rat worked him over.
The wind whipped past the two of them, making the cold of Roadhog’s skin contrast the heat he felt building in his gut, as Rat teased him with his tongue. The bastard was only giving him the smallest amounts of pressure; like he was going to push through, and then kept deciding against it. Roadhog let out a sigh, and then ground his butt back against Rat’s face, giving a small smile when he heard Rat splutter in surprise.
He then jolted when Rat huffed and gave him a sharp smack to his rear with his metal hand. Roadhog shivered, feeling Rat’s smile against the meat of his arse, before he went in again, this time finally pushing his tongue through.
Hog let out a soft moan at that, and then another one as Rat went deeper at the encouragement of his first noise. He could feel Rat’s tongue twisting inside the tight but empty space, pressing against the sensitive walls.
Rat always ate him out like he was born to do it, eager to tease tension and sounds out of his partner. Given that they weren’t too far above street-level, though, there was a chance that passersby might hear or see the two of them going at it, so Roadhog tried to stay relatively quiet. Whether or not he could remain that way, he supposed, would depend on if Junkrat decided to raise the stakes.
Regardless, Hog could feel all the stress slowly leeching out him, legs slowly turning to jelly as Rat’s talented tongue worked him over from the inside. Finally, Junkrat pulled back, and he spread Roadhog’s cheeks further to check the looseness of his hole. Clearly he was satisfied with his work, as with one last smack to Roadhog’s arse, he rose up from his kneeling position and, based on the small clinking sounds behind him, began to loosen his belt.
With a final rustle of fabric hitting the ground, Rat grasped Hog’s waist with his prosthesis and guided his cock with his flesh hand as he slowly slid inside Roadhog. Hog immediately let out a low pleasured groan at the gentle burn and stretch, pulling a whimper from Junkrat as he clenched tight around him.
Junkrat's initial movements were slow, but he soon gained speed, having already given his ‘alotted’ foreplay and quickly growing too aroused to draw things out. He bucked his hips forward in short, shallow thrusts, pushing forward with enough strength to slightly rock Hog against the stone railing of the balcony.
“Fuck, mate,” Rat panted, “Ya always so tight.” He timed his next thrust with a sharp slap to Hog’s arse, and Roadhog let out a deep groan as the sensation jolted him.
“Should fuck me more often,” Hog suggested, and Rat moan-laughed at that.
“It’d be me genuine pleasure!” he replied, and Roadhog could hear the cheeky smile in his tone.
Clearly aroused by the thought, Rat picked up the pace, jackhammering into Roadhog. His left hand was braced against Hog’s hip, while his robotic right hand clenched into the meat of Roadhog’s thigh; the larger junker let out a soft hum at the thought of the bruises that might be there the next day.
Though Rat wasn’t always focused on depth, the tip of his cock made occasional strokes against Roadhog’s good spot, and when Rat hit it again, he let out another moan, this time a little louder than before.
“Ya sound so good, Hoggie, but ya,” he broke off, breathing heavily, “ya bein’ so quiet. Why dont’cha squeal for me?”
“People might hear. I’m just for you,” Hog said, trying to hide his embarrassment with romanticism.
“Aw, fuck what they think! Let me hear ya, darl,” he replied, tone husky, and Roadhog instinctively groaned at his dirty talk. Rat, emboldened by the sound, moved his hand from Roadhog’s thigh to his shaft, smearing some of the precum that had dribbled from the tip and using it to make smooth strokes up and down the heated flesh.
With the dual sensations on his cock and in his arse, Roadhog knew it wouldn’t take long to reach the edge. Junkrat, based on his speed and the volume of his moaning, seemed to be close too.
“C’mon,” Roadhog rasped, clenching hard around Rat’s dick, “Wanna feel you come inside me.”
“Shit,” Rat huffed, and he hunched over Roadhog’s back, pushing him even further against the railing. “Keep talkin’ like that,”
“I’m all yours, Boss,” Hog replied. Dirty talk didn’t always come naturally to him, taciturn as he was, but if that’s what Rat needed, then he would try. “Fill me up.”
“Ffffffuck,” Rat finally groaned, and his thrusts slowed as he climaxed, rocking in and out, cum dribbling down from Hog’s hole to his taint.
It only took a few more thrusts for Hog to come as well, spurting up into the friction-warmed heat of Junkrat’s prosthesis as he moaned into the cool night air.
Roadhog was just about to sag even further against the railing when he suddenly heard someone yelling from the street, “Oi! Get a room, ya toey bastards!”
“Kiss me arse, ya wankstain!” Junkrat called from behind Roadhog, who hid his head in his arms, flushing bright red behind his mask.
When the disapproving onlooker finally moved on, Junkrat pulled out of Roadhog, and giving his arse one final pat, he moved closer to Roadhog to press soft kisses the leather. “That dipstick’s just jealous he couldn’t be you. Who wouldn’t want the finest lover in alla Oz?”
Roadhog, flustered as he was, couldn’t help but laugh. “That supposed to be you?”
“Aw, rack off,” Rat said with a pout, “We were havin’ a moment!”
“We can still have one,” Hog pointed out, “back in the room.”
Rat chuckled. “Poor embarrassed Hoggy. Ya too shy ta yell to the world that Rat’s got the best dick there is?”
“Do you need to prove that to anyone?” Hog teased.
Chapter 24: Xenophilia
This. This is an absolutely shameless Homestuck AU. Pure self-indulgence. Descriptions of alien genitalia below. Prepare yourself.
Note: Jami and Maykho are approximately 19 in this chapter (in human years anyway).
Note 2: If you know about Homestuck: Maykho is technically a purpleblood, but he's closer on the spectrum to indigos, so he's not a clown.
Jami might have a bad memory—a whole hell of a lot had happened since he and his friends decided to play the beta release of Sburb six years ago—but he very clearly remembered that it was a warm spring day, not long after they’d gotten settled on Earth C, when Maykho officially asked him if he wanted to get together with him.
Of course, he had to ask Jami in that strange way of his, telling the blond that he was “fuckin’ flushed” for him. He might not have known what that meant if it weren’t for the fact that since Jami had first started interacting with the aliens—trolls, as they called themselves—he’d been learning more and more about their culture.
One of the first things he learned about was Maykho’s status as a highblood, and how his homeplanet, Alternia, had functioned in its days as a conquesting empire. It all sounded incredibly violent, but Jami could admire a bit of bloodthirstiness. He could even find it kind of hot. Speaking of which, he ended up learning about their interesting system of relationships. He knew that “being flushed” equated to “being in love”. That on its own meant a lot to him.
It meant even more to him that quiet, brooding Maykho had actually been the one to initiate the relationship. Jami had had the biggest crush on the big lug for the longest time, but he’d never dreamed that the troll might’ve reciprocated his feelings. So of course, he’d said yes.
He couldn’t have even dreamed—and Jami had spent a lot of time dreaming over the course of the game—how great of a decision that would turn out to be.
“Five more minutes,” Jami muttered blearily, nestling deeper into his pillow as he felt a large hand shake his shoulder. To his delight, it worked, and the hand left him alone.
But not for long. He’d barely begun to slip back into blissful sleep when the hand shook him again, this time accompanied by a deep, bass-toned, “Jami. Wake up.”
“For cryin’ out loud, Maykho, what time even is it?” Jami grumbled. It wasn’t unusual for his boyfriend to wake him up in the middle of the night, but as much as he loved Maykho, he needed his sleep. Goddamn nocturnals.
There was a few more moments of quiet, and Jami had almost managed to drift off again when he felt the bed springs shift and squeak, followed by soft lips beginning to kiss up his neck.
That alone felt nice, but when he felt the barest hint of short, sharp tusks trace against the delicate skin, he shivered hard and let out a soft moan. “What is it, darl? Ya wanna root or somethin’? At—” Jami opened his eyes and craned his head to look at the alarm by his bed, “ —three in the bleedin’ morning?”
Maykho just continued to place kisses until he finally reached Jami’s lips, and despite the fuss Jami was making, he was happy to welcome the troll’s tongue into his mouth. He lazily wrapped his arms as far as he could around Maykho’s bulk, kissing his boyfriend with more passion the longer he spent awake.
Maykho was really good at kissing; his tongue was much longer and more flexible than a human’s, and he could do all sorts of interesting things with it. He could quite literally twine his tongue around Jami’s, and god was he living for it.
When Maykho finally withdrew, leaving a single glistening thread of lavender saliva dangling between them, Jami was breathing hard. He reached a hand down to rearrange himself in his trousers as he stared at his boyfriend. All dark grey skin, yellow eyes, and candy corn-colored horns.
Speaking of those, he trailed a hand up to grasp one of Maykho’s two hook-shaped horns. The troll let out a low hum as Jami caressed the sensitive base, and Maykho gently drew his claws down Jami’s sides, much to his delight. “They’re gonna be collecting tomorrow night,” Maykho finally rumbled. “You crashed when you got home. Needed to wake you up before I went to sleep.”
“Alright, twist me arm,” Jami said with a grin. “Or would that be too much on the ‘hate-fucking’ side ‘a things for ya?” Troll romance could be weird.
Maykho merely smiled, and he straightened up to pull his harness off, giving Jami room to do the same with his shirt. When Maykho attempted to take his pants off, Jami locked his legs around his waist. “I wanna do it.”
“Bossy,” Maykho said, smile growing, but he sat back on the bed, waiting.
“Ya love me for it,” Jami said smugly. “A warmblooded peasant like me tellin’ ya what to do.” He sat up and scooted forward, leaning down to unzip Mayko’s worn, purple polka-dotted overalls.
He was in the process of pulling the whole ensemble down when he felt Maykho’s large hand on top of his head. “Can still put you in your fuckin’ place,” he growled, tone laced with playful dominance.
“Ooh yeah, make me, big guy,” Jami purred, and he finished removing the meddling cloth to expose his prize, which twined exploratively around his fingers, dripping glistening purple fluid.
Jami shivered. “I’ll never get over the fact that ya got a fuckin’ tentacle for a dick, mate.”
“You want me to fuck you with the codpiece instead?” Maykho said, tone teasing.
The blond rolled his eyes, sliding his hand lower to the base of Maykho’s bulge so he could lean down further and suck the tapered tip into his mouth. The troll let out a groan, grasping Jami’s hair tightly to encourage him.
If Jami had said Maykho’s tongue was flexible, his cock was another story entirely. It acted like it had a mind of its own; upon entering the heat of Jami’s mouth, it squirmed and pushed itself in deeper, drawing a helpless, muffled moan out of the human. He rubbed his tongue up and down what of the length fit in his mouth, some of the increasing amounts of pre that lubricated the surface of it dribbling down his chin.
Jami swallowed thickly around Maykho’s dick, both to draw a low rumble from his partner and to clear his throat of the slick, purple liquid. Back when they’d first gotten together, one of his concerns during the learning his alien boyfriend’s body was whether or not his bodily fluids would be toxic or something. Fortunately they weren’t, but they did have a different taste than a human’s. Sure, they were a bit salty, but the more prevalent taste was a sweet, almost grape-like flavor.
After a few more moments, Maykho got a firmer grip on Jami’s hair, and slowly pulled him off his dick. Jami shivered as he felt the drag of his smooth, slick bulge sliding out of the cusp of his throat. Maykho then carded his claws through the hair he’d grabbed, soothing it and causing Jami to let out a happy little hum.
“Got a nice mouth, boy,” Maykho crooned. “But if you keep goin’, I ain’t gonna last.”
“What do ya wanna do instead?” Jami asked, lowering his hand down and allowing Maykho’s bulge to wrap around his fingers so as to slick them up.
“Motherfuck,” Maykho groaned as Jami manhandled him, “Could grind. Could fuck my nook. Or maybe you want me up inside of you, darlin’?”
“Ooh, hard choices,” Jami laughed. “But I actually have somethin’ I’ve been wantin’ ta try.”
“Oh?” Maykho said, bucking his hips at Jami’s continued touches.
Jami freed his fingers from Maykho’s bulge to trail them down to where it peeked out from its sheath. A few gentle touches around the sensitive opening, and an extra inch or two of tentacle slithered out. Maykho made a very interesting noise, a short sound somewhere between a whine and a purr. Jami looked up at him, and took in how his normally lidded eyes were wide-open in surprise, pupils were completely blown with arousal.
“I want to see if you can fuck me arse while you ride me,” Jami said with a smile.
“Holy shit,” Maykho said, “Is that even possible?”
“Depends on how much dick we can pull outta ya,” Jami said with a wink. “But I think you’d know how ta do that better than me.”
Maykho’s cheeks tinted ever so slightly purple. “Makin’ me do all the work, beanpole?” he said, leaning back on one hand as he trailed his other hand towards his sheath.
“Nah, I just like watchin’ ya play with yaself.”
Maykho deep-belly laughed at that. “Lecher,” he purred approvingly, “Good thing I like the attention,” The troll gently traced his clawed fingers around his bulgesheath, slowly rubbing and prodding at the already stretched opening. Lavender fluids stained his fingertips as he used a few of them to spread the edges of the sheath further, using his other hand to coax out what of his bulge remained inside.
As Jami watched his boyfriend twitch and listened to his soft moans and increasingly heavy breathing, he ran his palm up and down the length of his cock. God, the things that turned him on. That’s not to say that he thought there was anything bad about Maykho’s body; he loved it in the same way he loved Maykho for who he was. And besides, it had been fun for Jami to learn how to handle his partner. He enjoyed seeing him beside himself with pleasure, and knowing that the show was just for him. That Maykho had trusted him with it.
“Getting distracted?” Maykho’s voice brought him back, and Jami was immediately entranced by how hot and bothered he looked. Some of his hair was coming loose from his high ponytail, and he was definitely blushing now; sweat dripped down the defined muscles of his arms and the sizeable paunch of his stomach; his voice was low and raspy with lust, and when Jami looked down to gauge Maykho’s progress, he was almost startled to see how much more of his dick there was than usual.
It was only a little shorter than arm’s length, and it was about as thick as said arm around the base. His sheath was flushed purple as it opened around the enormous length it normally kept partially inside.
“Holy dooley,” Jami whispered. “That’s hot as all hell.” He paused for a moment, and concern took him over. “It doesn’t hurt, does it?”
“No,” Maykho said breathlessly. “It’s a fuckin’ stretch, but it’s the good kind.” He lowered his hand to the true base of his bulge and squeezed, immediately letting out a long, loud moan. “Fuck, it’s sensitive.”
A part of Jami wondered if he’d be able to fit the full length of Maykho’s monstrous dick down his throat, and he was very tempted to humor it. But he was much more interested in seeing if he could make this position work out, now that they’d gone to all this effort.
Jami spent a few more strokes just thinking about it, and that alone was enough to bring him to full hardness. “Aces,” he said with a grin, “Let’s get this party started!” He propped himself back on his elbows, but then moved partially back up again. “Ya need me ta finger ya a bit? I know ya not quite built for human dicks.”
“No,” Maykho said again, “Been dripping all over the goddamn bed. I’m more than ready.” He crawled closer to Jami, and pushed him down to the bed with enough strength to make Jami’s dick twitch. Fuck, that’s sexy. Then he kept crawling until he was face to face with Jami, and he leaned down to kiss him again, hot and open-mouthed.
Did Jami mention how much he loved kissing Maykho? Fuck, he loved it. But what he loved even more—holy shit—was when Maykho’s bulge coiled around his own dick, and began to squeeze in pulses; the combined slickness, softness and pressure on Jami’s length was absolutely maddening. He arched up into Maykho, gasping into his mouth, while Maykho just chuckled and deepened the kiss.
Jami could only take about a minute of that beautiful torture before he pressed on Maykho’s chest. Immediately, his boyfriend got the message and sat up. “Please, darl, I ain’t gonna make it if ya keep doin’ that,” Jami cried, throwing an arm over his eyes.
“Easy to tease,” Maykho quipped with a smile, but he slowly unwound his bulge from around Jami’s cock. Still, he barely gave Jami a moment to breathe before he turned around and, holding Jami’s dick steady, slid down enough to envelop the tip and upper part of the shaft in his cool slickness.
“Fffffuck,” Jami moaned, breathing more rapidly by the moment. “Not deep enough... wanna really feel you!”
“Okay,” Maykho said, taking a deep breath before sinking down lower still, and there, there, Jami could feel the reason why he loved fucking Maykho’s nook so much.
Lining the walls of Maykho’s nook were a multitude of small tendrils—filaments, really—each rippling and undulating with perfect synchronicity up and down against Jami’s cock. The gentle, almost tickling sensation, coupled with the rhythmic clenching of Maykho’s nook around him, rapidly brought him to his edge, and he shuddered as he came, feeling the filaments stiffening to direct the flow of his release up through Maykho’s seedflap to his genetic reservoir.
Jami sighed as he came down, brushing some of his hair off his sweaty forehead. Maykho was sitting still as he could—his thighs trembling ever so slightly—fully seated on Jami’s cock. As Jami came down, he started gently and slowly rocking back and forth.
“Fuck, that’s whatcha get for teasing me,” Jami panted, before smirking. “But ya need me again, doncha? Gotta give ya a little more before we can hand over the collection?”
Maykho looked behind him at Jami, raising an eyebrow and giving him a half-hearted snarl. “You calling me greedy, filthblood?”
The term had long since lost any bite for Jami, and he took it almost as a term of endearment. “Nah,” Jami smiled, “I would never! But ya can go ahead and put ya cock in me now.”
Maykho nodded with a tusked grin, and he leaned forward, bracing himself on Jami’s thigh before grasping his bulge and tucking it down past his legs until a little over half a handspan’s worth of it brushed up against Jami’s hole. It left little trails of slick as it wriggled against him before finally finding the right angle and beginning to push in.
“Oh my god,” Jami moaned, and Maykho groaned along with him as the sensation of pushing inside of Jami set of a chain reaction of clenching, both from Jami’s hole and Maykho’s nook. The filaments brushed up against his cock as Maykho’s bulge pressed up against the inside of his arse, trying to lash around but meeting too much resistance to do more than wriggle.
It was blissful, blissful overstimulation, and Jami bit his lip hard as he adjusted to the multitude of sensations within and around him. What would have been a tight fit with a human cock was a gradual filling, the thin tip clearing the way for the slowly widening shaft as Maykho pushed his bulge further in, and the slick self-lubrication being more than enough to make it a comfortable slide.
Maykho pulled his cock out ever so slightly before shoving it back in again, all the while continuing to twist it around, just barely brushing up against Jami’s sensitive spot and causing him to buck his hips up, in turn pressing up further inside his boyfriend.
Maykho gasped and clenched hard around Jami. “Do that again!”
“Is that an order, ya great highbloodedness?” Jami managed to tease, somehow managing to hold back from thrusting again.
“Fuckin’ yeah it is!” Maykho grunted, rolling his hips with urgency.
With that, Jami tilted his pelvis up again, and began to quickly but shallowly jackhammer into the oddly welcoming coldness of Maykho’s nook. The flexible filaments inside shifted faster with his frenzied motions, caressing his length and providing more of that beautiful stimulation.
“Fuck,” Jami moaned loudly and unabashedly, “I fuckin’ love ya.” The slap of skin on skin was echoing off the walls. “Ya so good ta me, darl,” he panted, as Maykho’s bulge squirmed inside him, and, “I can’t stand how bloody hot ya are, fuck!” finally pressed right up against that perfect spot.
His vision whited out as he came for the second time, voice ringing out in the room as he came inside his boyfriend, spilling into his genetic reservoir for the final time in their coupling tonight.
He slowly came down to a hot continued sensitivity, as Maykho was still clenched tightly around him, leg muscles stiffened, as he shifted above Jami.
Suddenly Jami was struck with an idea. “You need to come?”
Maykho let out a breath he’d been holding before sucking another one in. “Yeah. Need the collection pail.”
“Fuck that,” Jami laughed. “I want ya ta come inside me.”
“But the fuckin’ collection—”
Jami suddenly sat up, wrapped his arms tight around Maykho, and bit his neck hard. He wiggled his arse and clenched hard around his boyfriend’s bulge, before whispering, “Come for ya Boss, Maykho. Now!”
Maykho let out his breath in a sudden gasp, and he trembled as genetic material flooded out of the tip of his bulge, filling Jami up and hitting him with more aftershocks.
After a few moments, Maykho shakily moved off of Jami’s dick, tendrils folding flat against the walls of his nook to make the removal easier. In the same moment, his bulge was pulled out of Jami’s arse, and it began to slowly retract into its sensitive sheath.
Maykho turned around to look at Jami, eyes managing to convey both his exhaustion, and his awe at what they had managed to pull off. Then he gave Jami a shy grin. “Flushed for you,” he murmured.
“Love ya too, big guy,” Jami said with a smile.
Then Maykho looked down at Jami’s abdomen, and ran his claws over the ever so slight swell there. At the pressure, a small amount of his cum squirted out of Jami’s hole, and the sight caused the both of them to laugh ecstatically.
“Filthy as fuck,” Maykho said, once he had recovered from his bout of laughter. “Guess we’ll both need the pail tonight, my dazzlin’ crimson darlin’.”
“Fuck, mate, dunno if I can even move,” Jami groaned, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes.
“I’m sure you’ll figure something out. Wouldn’t want my precious material to go to waste,” Maykho said with a meaningful look at Jami, before slowly getting off the bed.
It was time for the filling of the pail.