An interesting, if antagonistic question. Zenyatta hums thoughtfully, and now he's close enough for the sound to reverberate against Junkrat's skin like the ripples in a pond.

"I have. I must admit, however, that I am somewhat rusty." It is in his nature to be modest, and he is fully prepared to continue to glide through the taunts. But then Junkrat's tongue rolls out like a red carpet to his fingers, and, thus invited in, he finds he cannot resist: he runs a finger lightly over his lower lip, then, abruptly, takes ahold of his tongue between his thumb and forefinger.

Not tight enough to hurt. Just to make a point. "I hope," he continues seamlessly, almost sweetly, "that you will keep me on my toes."