Junkrat scoffs. "Makes it feel like it sometimes."
Not that he's saying that it makes Junkrat feel like Roadhog is geriatric; he's talking about himself, because yes, even Junkrat can get exhausted and tired too, though the number of people who he's allowed to see him like that can be counted on a single hand.
He shuffles out of Roadhog's way entirely as he climbs up the ladder, half-leaning half-sitting on top of the railing to wait for the other to get comfortable. The hammock has been adequately prepared for the weight load; even the entire burden of Roadhog's bulk, it bows comfortably without touching the ground. Once he, and the hammock, have stilled, there's only enough room on either side of him to actually climb in if he so wanted--but instead, he chooses to settle himself in the clearance between the other's legs, inviting himself to make a backrest out of the rounded dome of Roadhog's gut.
It's rare for the larger bloke to invite Junkrat to ramble on, so the gesture doesn't get overlooked--but it does make him throw a mildly surprised look over his shoulder.
"Lots ta talk about now that yer here," he warns, fidgeting with his fingers idly. "And just about all of it'll get me wound back up again."
Except...
He feels a metallic clink between his fingers and he looks down at them taking in the gold and blue that practically glow in the low nighttime light. He pinches his ring between a metal thumb and finger and rotates it back and forth without taking it off.
A picture's worth a thousand words. Junkrat reaches into the rear pocket of his shorts and produces his omnicomm, pulling up the ever-growing storage folder full of nothing but selfies of him and Fareeha. A picture's worth a million words, and a million pictures--well.
Junkrat turns around just enough to reach a long arm over Roadhog's belly to invite him to take the mobile device from him and look through the pictures.
no subject
Not that he's saying that it makes Junkrat feel like Roadhog is geriatric; he's talking about himself, because yes, even Junkrat can get exhausted and tired too, though the number of people who he's allowed to see him like that can be counted on a single hand.
He shuffles out of Roadhog's way entirely as he climbs up the ladder, half-leaning half-sitting on top of the railing to wait for the other to get comfortable. The hammock has been adequately prepared for the weight load; even the entire burden of Roadhog's bulk, it bows comfortably without touching the ground. Once he, and the hammock, have stilled, there's only enough room on either side of him to actually climb in if he so wanted--but instead, he chooses to settle himself in the clearance between the other's legs, inviting himself to make a backrest out of the rounded dome of Roadhog's gut.
It's rare for the larger bloke to invite Junkrat to ramble on, so the gesture doesn't get overlooked--but it does make him throw a mildly surprised look over his shoulder.
"Lots ta talk about now that yer here," he warns, fidgeting with his fingers idly. "And just about all of it'll get me wound back up again."
Except...
He feels a metallic clink between his fingers and he looks down at them taking in the gold and blue that practically glow in the low nighttime light. He pinches his ring between a metal thumb and finger and rotates it back and forth without taking it off.
A picture's worth a thousand words. Junkrat reaches into the rear pocket of his shorts and produces his omnicomm, pulling up the ever-growing storage folder full of nothing but selfies of him and Fareeha. A picture's worth a million words, and a million pictures--well.
Junkrat turns around just enough to reach a long arm over Roadhog's belly to invite him to take the mobile device from him and look through the pictures.
"I got hitched."