CATCHALL/OVERFLOW FOR MEMES

[comingupexplody]

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[comingupexplody]

It's only a few seconds before Jamie seemingly forgets what he's doing, rolling his body down against those fingers, his breathing quick and noisy.

"Hhh... hh, hold on, hold on, lemme just..." He pulls away, his limp even more shaky than usual, and grabs that wheel he'd been using as a seat earlier, dragging it closer. He half-throws himself onto it, sprawling his lanky frame wide open, shame apparently entirely forgotten in light of his remembering just how nice being touched can feel. Even if it's by one of... those.

"... right. Now, where were we?" His voice is a little bit breathy, a little uneven, but he smirks, a sharp fang pressing against his lip, as though he's still fully in control of the situation.

[tekhartha]

Junkrat doesn't so much come undone as he does unravel from the waist, as though his fingers alone could reduce him to little more than a sigh and a quiver. He sways drunkenly back from him, and for a moment Zenyatta wonders if he isn't looking for the space to reassert himself- but he doesn't. Instead, he flops back and all but presents himself, splayed and hungry.

For his part, however, Zenyatta takes his time. He pauses, gently bringing together his index and middle fingers- the ones engaged until scarcely a moment ago- and parts them with deliberate care. A fine liquid thread of arousal spreads between them, glistening on the tips of his fingers.

"Here, I believe," he answers and then moves in and down onto one knee, placing his head level with Junkrat's hips. Nine blue dots glow against his thighs. His hands fan across them to spread them further apart and part the soft, flushed lips between them by just a fraction. His fingers are back to work only a moment later, stroking up and down in experimental lengths and shapes while his thumb caresses the hard little node of Junkrat's clit. It's coming back to him, little by little.

[comingupexplody]

Jamie can feel the pounding of his own heart all through his body, pulsing and tingling at the tips of his limbs-- the ones that contain blood, that is. His long, lean body rolls and shifts beneath the machine's touch, his cunt already far more slick than likely expected; it's been a while since someone else touched him like that, and it's bliss, his dirty, scarred skin flush beneath the soot, narrow chest heaving. He props himself up on his elbows so that he can see, and there's something deeply amusing to him about the sight of a bot there between his legs-- he's rapidly beginning to wonder if this could be at least one good use for them.

... quite all of a sudden, his head tips back, his muscles winding tight, and his legs tremble as he curses loudly, cunt visibly pulsing with his sudden climax. He breathes hard, curling in on himself, his hips bucking against Zenyatta's fingers as he rides it out.

[tekhartha]

Lovemaking, Zenyatta remembers, has always been intense, near infectious; every wracking gasp seems to come from within his own chest, each spasm from his own servos, twitching in time to the pulse he can feel throbbing through Junkrat's cunt, harder and harder. Unadulterated physical intimacy.

Sometimes a partner's orgasm has been enough for Zenyatta to reach a peak of his own- but not this time. Even he cannot predict how just how quickly the pleasure mounts within Junkrat's body, and before he can even think to temper his touches the junker hits a messy climax.

His fingers grind, both literally and belatedly, to a somewhat bewildered halt.

"Goodness," he says, forgetting, for a moment, just how sensitive Junkrat's pride may well be, "you are sensitive."

Humming thoughtfully, he pushes up against the tire and touches Junkrat's cheek again, all affection; slickened fingers hook against his lip as he finds the pulse jumping in his throat. It leaves a glistening streak across his chin. "Your heart is still racing. Are you finished, Jamie?"

He doubts it.

[comingupexplody]

He--

Jamie flushes crimson, his expression indignant, glaring up at the bot with pure fire in his eyes.

"N-no, I'm not finished! I'm just gettin' started!" Even as he's still coming down from that first, rather unexpected climax, he tries to catch his breath, to brace himself beneath the machine. "It's just... been a lil' while, that's all! I got plenty more in me, let's go!"

His tone is a sharp mix of embarrassment and anger, the flush of his skin spreading even to his ears and shoulders.

[tekhartha]

From the moments the words left Zenyatta's vocal processor he'd known that they could only inflame Jamie's pride, but perhaps that was half the point. He feels so good himself, and it's wonderful to see the same life flooding the junker's skin and bristling through his slowly-relaxing muscles. He can sense his body even where they aren't touching, as if his very pulse were wireless.

"Of course," he soothes. His tone indicates compliance rather than condescension. "I understand."

One hand is already moulding itself around Junkrat's waist; the other pauses at the junction of his thighs for just long enough to be disarming. Then two fingers slide cleanly into his still-twitching cunt, and it is as though every heartbeat were beating through them instead: I feel, I feel, I feel.

"How wonderful you are, Jamie!" he says, and his voice would be (for anyone else) almost embarrassingly earnest. "You need not have been so shy."

[comingupexplody]

Jamie opens his mouth to protest, prepared to swear up a fresh storm of hatred, but then he's suddenly being filled up and he's so oversensitive that for a moment, all he can feel are those fingers, and the words die in his throat, changing, instead, to a strangled sound of frustrated arousal.

It takes him a beat to actually voice his complaints, his words slurring even more severely than usual.

"M'not shy! Jes-ssus christ!" How the hell has he been shy at any point today? He's equal parts baffled and enraged by that implication. "Wha'd'ya mean by tha'?!"

[tekhartha]

Jamie all but whines, and some wicked, wonderful urge in Zenyatta wells up to meet the sound, curling his fingers as they slide further into the suckling heat of his cunt.

"Perhaps," he acknowledges, "shy is not the correct word." His thumb glides upwards, skirting that still-sensitive clit. "Defensive."

He sighs softly, resting his head with langurous care against the inside of Jamie's thigh; the skin is hot and damp against the cool shine of his metal and nuzzles into the sensation. "Perhaps we can take our time now. I do not much care for being rushed."

[comingupexplody]

"M'not... ah... mmh, m'not defensive, either." But the words are slurred heavily with pleasure, his body rolling up and onto those fingers instinctively, a silent demand for more, the muscles inside of him wound tight.

It's an almost comically weak protest, all things considered.

[tekhartha]

"Hush, now," Zenyatta interrupts, clear though it is that whatever Jamie has left to say at this point will be entirely incoherent. He's only half-listening, anyway, snuggling further up his thigh until his Jieba light up the slick pink skin beneath his fingers.

But as much as he's enjoying this, what he really craves is contact, and a lot more of it.

Briefly he considers pulling Junkrat down into his lap, but it seems an uncomfortable and ungainly proposition for the both of them. Instead, he eases his way back up on his heels, pressing Jamie into the tire with his advance as his fingers stroke deeper and deeper- and slides in a third, stretching him around the sudden addition.

[comingupexplody]

"Fff, fhuck you..." But any further words are stolen by the addition of that third finger, his mouth hanging open, voice coming out in a wordless moan; he curses, rolling his hips up to try and fuck himself on those fingers, hands grasping at the edges of the tire to brace himself.

He doesn't care about touching the Omnic. It's not his job to make it feel good or comfortable.

"... hhf. More." His first word, as soon as he can form words again, is a command. He writhes beneath him, needy, almost pleading. "Ca... ca'mon, ca'mon, hhh..."

[tekhartha]

"'Fuck me'?" Zenyatta repeats, amused, and without any real surprise he notices that he quite likes the way the words sound in his voice; his careful intonation lends them a certain reverance that serves, paradoxically, to make them all the more obscene.

Not that he needs to be obscene; Jamie is more than making up for the both of them with his every reaction, whining and writhing and grinding himself down, down, onto his fingers. It's not just greedy- it's as though he's been starved.

Zenyatta, in all his sympathy, can only oblige.

"As you wish." Unwillingly, he withdraws his fingers, marvelling all the while at how slick and bright they have become, coated in Junkrat's arousal.

All the better to apply to his erection. The second Zenyatta touches himself he shivers, lighting up every sensory node through to the soles of his feet with anticipation. As soon as he's prepared himself he leans up a little more, up and over Junkrat's helpless form. His cock, thick and sleek, juts between the two of them, casting a faint glow across his belly.

"Is this what you want, Jamie?" He sounds encouraging and gentle, as though he half-expects to have to coax the yes out of him.

[comingupexplody]

Jamison's legs wrap around the Omnic, pinning him there, over and against him, and he arches up off the tire he's spread out across, wordlessly pleading.

"Fff, fuckin'... y-you know it is..." Both enraged and needy, desperate, his face and body flushed; his narrow chest heaves dramatically beneath Zenyatta, hands clutching the side of the tire too-tightly. "Ca'mon, fuck me...!"

He's beyond caring, at this point-- beyond worrying about looking weak in front of this thing, beyond having too much pride to beg.

[tekhartha]

Zenyatta's hips are tugged forward before he can brace himself, sliding his cock against the slippery, quivering folds of Jamie's cunt. The combination of silky softness and sensitivity jolts a startled little gasp out of his vocaliser before he can swallow it down.

His composure flickers like candlelight. Then he leans in again and murmurs, "Very well."

Shivering with anticipation, he nudges the his cock between the swollen lips and against his entrance- and with that first slick give the glans is swallowed up into Jamie's body, as though he's been waiting for hours, days, to be full. And perhaps, in some small way, his body's been just as hungry for it, because his array lights up instantly with the heat, the closeness, the intimacy. "Oh, Jamie-!" he breathes, "you're wonderful."

[comingupexplody]

Jamison barely processes what Zenyatta is saying, and it's entirely deliberate; the machine just keeps mumbling little assurances, sweet compliments, as though Jamison were someone to be wooed, and it's honestly embarrassing for it more than anything.

He focuses, instead, on the feeling of finally being given what he wants-- the penetration isn't quite the same as when he's with a real person, a human being, the machine's cock slightly less warm, slightly more solid within him-- but it's certainly not unpleasant. On the contrary, Jamie's body bucks sharply up in response, begging for more, his pussy twitching, tightening slightly around the intrusion.

"Fuck...!" The curse is winded, almost voiceless; he picks his head up to look down between their bodies, to see the place where they meet, his eyes lidded and face flush. He wants to find it funny, but... secretly, he can't help but find something about the sight of that thing fucking him very, very intriguing.

Not that he's gonna say that out loud. Ever.

[tekhartha]

Junkrat have any kind of smart response for him lined up, or even a particularly impressive string of curses, but he doesn't have to when his body is so willing to speak for him. Like this Zenyatta can feel each individual muscle leap and twitch in his thighs, inside of him-- there's only so much stimulation his processors can handle, but he drinks it in greedily.

"Your heart is racing, Jamie," he murmured, "one hundred and six beats per second and rising... is this the only way to make you blush?" There's tender amusement in his voice even through the thickness of his desire- unromantic though they may be there's honesty in the numbers, and this is far from romance already. This is raw, and primal, and completely against his primary functions.

In fact, he's already gliding further into Jamie's body with a long, slow thrust, lifting Jamie's hips to grant him just that fraction of an inch more to fill in his own sweet time. He wants to enjoy every last second of the first stretch. "Please, don't close your eyes," he manages earnestly, "I want to see them."

[comingupexplody]

Almost in response, he flushes further when the machine just... calls out what his body is doing, as though it's laid out for him in pen and ink. He wants to protest, to insult the machine in response, or to tell it to fuck off--

-- but then it's pushing that much further into him, stretching him, moving almost achingly slowly, and that lift of his hips changes the angle just slightly, and his voice comes out in a sharp "ah," his breathing ragged.

"... fff, fuck you, hahh..." He does look up at Zenyatta, at what functions for the machine's face, but it's to narrow his eyes in irritation-- though the edges are lost, as his gaze is just slightly unfocused, glazed over with pleasure. "St-- stop... doin' whatever yer doin' an'... knowin' all that... s'weird..."

His pulse continues to race quite pleasurably, however, his pussy tightening around Zenyatta with each little motion. Whether he admits it or not, he's clearly enjoying at least some part of this.

[tekhartha]

'Stop'? At first Zenyatta takes him completely at his word and grinds- so to speak- to a halt, visibly startled by the request. But he only has to listen for a moment longer to realise exactly what Jamie is actually getting at, and when he does it makes him laugh one of those bright, gentle chiming laughs.

"Not so weird," he contests good-naturedly, gently easing his hips back again until all but the head of his cock is exposed again, "that your pulse has not risen by another four beats per minute."

He takes a moment to let Jamie speak, admiring, absent-mindedly, the way his arousal gleams about the shaft- and then without so much as a second wasted he thrusts forward again until he's even deeper than he was a moment ago and just short of hilting himself against Jamie's skin.

The result is a sudden, dizzying jolt of pleasure that shoots straight through his neural cortex and strains, just, the limits of his processor. Even before it's faded his back is venting body-warmed steam with a sighing hiss. Trembling, he curls back over Jamie's body. "Oh, Jamie," he repeats, "you are perfect!"

[comingupexplody]

"Hhhf--!" That thrust effectively silences, at least temporarily, whatever complaints Jamison was about to give voice to-- instead he just lets his head tip back against the tire, the muscles of his stomach wound almost painfully tight as his body pushes back against Zenyatta, a silent demand for more. And then he tries to speak, though he remains where he is-- head tipped back, eyes closed, for the time being. "Hh, heh, mmh... y-yeah, 'bout time y'said somethin' reasonable..."

Though his voice is utterly breathless, it's clear he's trying another approach-- deflect the Omnic's attempts to win him over with compliments by obnoxiously accepting them, rather than shooting them down entirely.

[tekhartha]

Perhaps it is tricky of him, in this moment, to take advantage of Jamie's position: head back, eyes closed, spread before him like some lovely and private treasure. But Zenyatta can't help himself. He closes the distance between them and nuzzles the cheek of his faceplate into his bony collar, relishing the damp warmth of his skin, the tic of his throat with every gasp and swallow.

Deflection would probably be more effective on someone less completely and utterly doting. Also someone not emitting pleasured, drunken static like a broken radio.

Still pressed close, he begins to move in earnest: long, deep thrusts, just slowly enough for him to silently map every inch of Jamie's internal geography. He reaches forward, forces their hands to meet, then laces their fingers together and squeezes.

"Here, my star?" Where did that come from? He doesn't think about it overmuch, and instead concentrates on shifting his hips at just the right angle. "You are softest here..."