There's a tension between Junkrat's shoulderblades when Roadhog places a hand over him, but the weight and the warmth eases it out of him. He immediately falls asleep--or dozes, he's not quite sure--and the span of time between Roadhog's gesture and question could either be a matter of hours, minutes, or even seconds and Junkrat is none the wiser.

"Yeah," he says, roused from his half-sleep. "M'ready fer bed."

With a sudden grogginess he picks himself up off of Roadhog and wobbles towards the ladder. Sure, there might be a porthole under the hammock that leads directly to his bed, but that's exclusively for use when there's no risk of infesting his bed with dirt, i.e. used it to get up there in the first place. Junkrat may have no problem getting dirty or living in a place that looks like a wreck, but that doesn't mean he likes living in filth.

More opportunities to get injured by accident. More opportunities for things to get lost or forgotten.

Once he gets inside, he sits on the edge of the bed and pulls off his clothes and prosthetics, goes through his usual nighttime cleaning routine with a bit of tired sluggishness, then reaches for the television remote, giving it a tap to turn the television on and turning to Roadhog.

"An entire universe's telly ta watch," he proposes. "Whaddya wanna put on?"