The results come astonishingly quickly. Junkrat reacts as though he's been electrocuted, the muscles jumping beneath the skin of his thighs around his wrist before they give out- just for a moment, but out nonetheless. Perhaps it's been just as long for him too. Not that Zenyatta is given more than a few seconds for thought before Junkrat's on the offensive again, now moving his hand in a tentative but definite pump up and down the length of his cock.

Somewhere, some place in between the pleasure suddenly lighting up his circuits, he has to force his mind to slow. To take a mental breath, hold it, find himself in the chaos- and then release.

He shudders at Junkrat's grip and edges his hips encouragingly onward.

"Tell me," he starts again, and now his voice is level again, "what feels good to you. Please do not lie."

Because with his hands all over Jamie's body and two of his fingers already teasing the hot, soft, pliant folds between his thighs, he'll know. His touch is exploratory but confident, shamelessly curious.