Junkrat doesn't freeze, exactly, but he doesn't do what Zenyatta expects him to, which is slap his hand away and heckle him for the nerve of it. What he gets instead is a challenge.
"When it comes to you, Jamieson, I must confess that flowers have never crossed my mind at all," he answers, smooth and deadpan. His thumb touches the point of his exposed tooth for a brief second, tempting fate as though it belonged to a tiger rather than a man. But even he would not be so foolish as to bite metal, would he? "I am simply getting comfortable."
Specifically, with Junkrat's body. Zenyatta's already taken the lack of protest as consent to expand his explorations; as the hand at his cheek strokes up into that jagged hairline, his other ghosts down his neck at the delicate spot where it meets his shoulders in a smooth, sensitive touch. He can feel the blood beating beneath the fragile surface of his skin. For such a chaste touch it's far more intimate than it has any right to be.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2016-12-06 09:44 pm (UTC)"When it comes to you, Jamieson, I must confess that flowers have never crossed my mind at all," he answers, smooth and deadpan. His thumb touches the point of his exposed tooth for a brief second, tempting fate as though it belonged to a tiger rather than a man. But even he would not be so foolish as to bite metal, would he? "I am simply getting comfortable."
Specifically, with Junkrat's body. Zenyatta's already taken the lack of protest as consent to expand his explorations; as the hand at his cheek strokes up into that jagged hairline, his other ghosts down his neck at the delicate spot where it meets his shoulders in a smooth, sensitive touch. He can feel the blood beating beneath the fragile surface of his skin. For such a chaste touch it's far more intimate than it has any right to be.