Junkrat found himself in a distinctly gleeful mood in the following days. If the memory of their night together wasn't enough, seeing Symmetra wandering around the base in a high necked dress to hide the marks he'd left adorning her skin did pleasant things to him. A secret only he was privy to.
He remembered all too well the way she'd writhed beneath him, how heavenly the whole experience felt... how the evidence was right there, covered only by pitiful fabric, so easy to uncover...
She hadn't told him this was to remain between them, but he got the sense that was her intention. Was it pride on her part? A reluctance to let the world know how willingly she'd fucked him? Well, Junkrat could understand that, wasn't like he was much of a catch. And if he was honest... he kind of got a kick out of the whole game.
Stolen kisses in dark corners, slinking to her room while the rest of the base slept... the ever present risk of discovery. He liked to push his luck sometimes, see how daring he could get. Symmetra usually put a stop to it, but sometimes she indulged. Even if she didn't he could read the amusement in her eyes. If she was gonna let him get away with it, then hell yes he'd keep going. He was already entertaining the idea of dragging her into a closet sometime for a bit of unsavory behavior.
Would Symmetra like to fuck in a closet? Maybe just blow him if that was too much? Would she get a kick out of that too? Or maybe she'd like to be the one calling the shots, ordering him on his knees as she lifted her skirts, letting him pleasure her, fingers winding through his hair as her head tipped back and she stifled her own moans...
Oh god yes he wanted that...
Of course, his new situation did present some difficulties. Hana and Lucio knew something was up ever since he'd gone to them for advice, and dodging questions and feigning ignorance didn't appear to shake their curiosity.
And Hog knew he was hiding something, Junkrat was sure of that. He wasn't even sure it was fair to lie to the big lug... but no, Junkrat liked keeping Symmetra a secret all to himself, he was selfish like that. Let the bloke have his suspicions, he'd only grin and giggle if pressed.
All in all, he was having the time of his life.
It was a full week before Symmetra brought up the subject of their date. The thought had quite fled his mind, and he supposed he ought to feel guilty for that, he'd wanted to do this properly after all.
She waylaid him in the corridor, checking both ways to make sure they were alone. "I believe I have found an appropriate outing for us both, if you are still inclined," she said.
"Anythin's good so long as you're there."
"Flatterer," she scolded, but she didn't seem displeased. "We will need to leave headquarters. If you can manage to extricate yourself as discreetly as possible, meet me at eight by the western entrance."
"So, ya gonna tell me what we'll be doin', or is this a surprise?" he asked, letting himself move closer, grinning down at her. "Ya gonna give me a clue?"
She smirked. "No. I think I will enjoy seeing your reaction first hand. I'm sure you can exercise a little patience, if only this once."
"But ya know I hate waitin'! Ya really are cruel sometimes..." he muttered, with an exaggerated pout, shoulders slouching.
Symmetra checked behind herself again before stretching up on her tiptoes, planting a delicate kiss to his jaw. "Perhaps I am, but it should be worth the wait. And there are plenty of things I have in mind for afterward should you have the energy..."
Her fingers lingered against his skin for a moment before she drew back. Junkrat stared.
"That ain't gonna make waitin' any easier," he told her, wrapping one hand around her waist and tugging her closer. He dipped his head down, intent on nuzzling her neck, but she planted a firm hand on his chest and pushed him back. Trying not to let his disappointment show too clearly he let them part.
Symmetra's expression was coy. "Behave yourself and I will see you properly rewarded," she said, tapping his nose in reproach.
Junkrat raised his eyebrows. Her tone left him in no doubt as to what those rewards might entail, and he couldn't help the way his heart beat a little faster. "That right?"
"I suppose you will just have to find out."
He was pretty sure the sway of her hips as she left was intentional these days. Yet another thing designed to torment him. Not that he minded. Symmetra could torment him as much as she pleased and he'd only beg for more. Getting the chance to not so discreetly ogle her backside after such delicious promises was a treat he'd never turn down.
Was damned inconvenient if she wanted him to wait though, cos she still had an uncomfortable habit of leaving him hard, and he had hours yet before their date.
Muttering to himself, he tried his best to think unsexy thoughts that did not involve Symmetra and the particular smug curve of her lips, dragging himself off in the direction he'd been heading. He needed focus. Couldn't wander around like a horny mess every time she did this to him. He had work to do, bombs to make, traps to design, mission plans to run through...
And once he had all that done, then, then he could allow himself to run wild with all the possibilities her words might encompass. He was looking forward to it.
'Extricating himself discreetly' was not as easy as Symmetra made it sound. Junkrat was not discreet. He was fairly sure he was the opposite of discreet.
But he needed an excuse to suddenly not be in the base, and Hog was looking at him in a way that told him he knew there was something ticking away in Junkrat's head. He was just waiting to hear it.
"So, I, uh..." Junkrat began, chewing at his lip in desperation. "I think I'm gonna take up jogging?"
Roadhog just stared at him.
"Yeah, I'm gonna go out joggin', cos that's a thing people do, right? So I'm gonna be out, for a while, but ya can't come cos ya lungs are shot ta hell an' I reckon you'd hack one up if ya tried."
Roadhog said nothing.
"It's the truth!" Junkrat insisted.
"You're not gonna destroy anything, and not looking for trouble?"
"Course not mate, I'm joggin' is all!"
Roadhog just grunted. He studied Junkrat for a moment longer before turning away, evidently done with the conversation. "If you get yourself killed I'll string you up myself."
"I ain't plannin' nothin' bad, ya got me word, solemn vow and all."
"Take your com and don't be an idiot."
Junkrat scowled at his back. He was sure Roadhog knew he was doing it, because the bloke had an uncanny knack for picking up on what Junkrat was doing even when he was looking elsewhere, but he didn't turn back. His bodyguard had far more interest in the nearest chair. Roadhog sat down, kicked his legs up and pulled out his knitting.
Junkrat cleared his throat. "Right..." he said, reminding himself that he was the one in charge, "an' if anyone asks, I'm out joggin', yeah?"
"I'll think of a better excuse."
"It ain't an excuse, mate! I'm allowed to jog!" Junkrat squawked. He was met again by the cold, unfeeling lenses of Roadhog's mask. Under their weight he wilted. "Alright, fine... just tell 'em somethin' that won't land me in trouble."
He earned a grunt of acknowledgement, and that was enough. Navigating the winding corridors of Overwatch headquarters, he all but skipped off to the western entrance, narrowly avoiding running into Tracer on the way, but managing to save himself by ducking into an unused storage room.
When he arrived, and stood outside under the glow of the floodlights, he found himself alone.
An odd sort of panic hit him. Had he got the wrong place? Had Symmetra changed her mind? Had she realized what a mistake this all was, and locked herself in her room so she'd never have to see him again?
Then it occurred to Junkrat to check the time, and he immediately flipped to cursing his own stupidity. He was early. Symmetra, of course, would never be anything but perfectly on time, so he had some waiting to do. It was no secret that this was his least favorite pastime.
When she finally appeared he'd resorted to attempting to dig a hole through the ground with his peg leg, an act of limited success.
He brightened at the sight of her, straightening up and kicking over the dry dirt and stones he'd managed to loosen, rocking back on his heel as he watched her approach.
Symmetra had changed clothes since he'd last seen her, selecting a dark blue dress with yet another high collar. She also carried a basket with her, tucked neatly into the crook of her arm.
This, Junkrat had to admit, piqued his interest. He squinted at it with open curiosity, but quickly shook himself, returning his focus to Symmetra once more. She was the important thing here. They were going on a date, and he was going to be absolutely charming and perfect and not nosy or demanding, he refused to spoil things now.
"There ya are, love," he said, "dressed up for me an' everythin', don't I feel lucky?"
"And you showered," she noted, approval evident in her tone.
"Course I did. That gets me bonus points, right?"
Symmetra smiled. "You learn quickly."
She stretch up and Junkrat bent down automatically, allowing her to plant a dainty kiss against his lips that was far too soft and far too short for his liking. She was gone before he had time to work up a proper response, beckoning him to follow.
Junkrat blinked, but found his equilibrium, chasing after her and matching her stride with his own limping gait.
They didn't go far. It was probably only a minute or two's walk before Symmetra drew to a stop, glancing over her shoulder and nodding as if satisfied. "This should do."
Brow furrowed in confusion, Junkrat watched as she raised her hands and the air began to glimmer. It shifted into a form he was familiar with, that of a teleporter.
"We ain't walkin'?" he asked.
"It would be too far for that. I already prepared a corresponding point yesterday."
"Why bother sneakin' out then? Couldn't we have, ya know, bamfed outta your room or sumthin?"
"That would be... unwise. Athena would likely detect the activity, and report upon it. Teleporting out in secret might raise some questions as to my true alliance."
The crease in his brow deepened, and Symmetra searched his face for understanding. When she saw none, she sighed.
"They may suspect that I am reporting to Vishkar."
"What!? But that wouldn't make any bloody sense!" he snapped, and Symmetra winced. Junkrat bit his own tongue, silencing any further shrill protests that were working their way up his throat.
The silence appeared to have the desired effect and after a moment to compose herself Symmetra continued. "I understand their concerns. My relationship with Vishkar is... was complicated. Cutting my ties to them was never something I thought I would do, I held a great deal of loyalty toward them. If Overwatch has their doubts, it is merely because they recognize that, and it is only prudent to judge my behavior accordingly."
"It ain't fair though..." he muttered, "them thinkin' about ya like that."
"What they do or do not think is neither here nor there, what matters is that I understand my own stance in regards to Vishkar. And I will never do another thing for them. On that, I am clear."
"But-"
"Please," she said, softly, "Jamison, forget it. I do not wish to dwell. This is... not how I want our evening to go. I have made a muddle of things."
Junkrat hated the way she sounded. Regretful, as if it truly were her fault and not Vishkar's, or Overwatch's, or his own for blundering his way into a sensitive topic he hadn't the skill to navigate and smooth over.
Maybe someone better could. Someone with the right words, who could whisper all the right things and knew the perfect comforting gestures and touches. Junkrat only had anger though, simmering below his skin like live flames, but with no enemy to turn it upon. Maybe some day he'd pay Vishkar a visit. Maybe, in a perfect world, he'd set Overwatch straight, give them a proper lecture on how utterly mistaken they were and they'd actually listen to him for a change, but Junkrat knew that was fantasy. Symmetra would not thank him for meddling regardless.
All the could do was take a steadying breath and set his grin back in place.
"Nah! Nah," he assured her, making sure to keep his voice under control, "was my fault for bringing it up, just... don't seem fair is all."
Symmetra settled her hand over his own, tugging gently. "Come," she said, more decisive this time. "I promised you a date, and I intend to keep it."
Junkrat let her lead him, holding tight as they passed through the blue shimmer of the teleporter and emerged on the other side. A faint buzzing lingered in his ears, a disconcerting sense of vertigo as his body struggled to realign itself with reality. He closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head until it cleared. When he opened them, he was looking down the rolling expanse of a grassy hill with the open night sky spread above.
Exactly what to make of this he wasn't sure.
Hills were not particularly exciting in his book, and he could see nothing else of interest save for the few lights of a distant city, but Symmetra had to have her reasons because she always did, so he turned to look at her quizzically, hoping to unravel something in her gaze.
She just smiled.
"Ya still ain't gonna tell me what this is all about," he hazarded, gesturing to the empty hill.
"No," she said, tugging on his hand again to guide him to a spot that finally met her satisfaction. Then she set her basket down, and pulled a blanket from within.
Mystified, he watched as she shook it out, smoothing it down over the grass until every wrinkle was removed. Only then did she sit, patting the space beside her in a clear invitation.
He flopped down immediately.
"So," he tried, having chewed over his own thoughts for a moment, "is this eh... stargazing or somethin'?"
"Don't you like stars?"
"Oh, sure, they're real... shiny." Truth be told he never gave the night sky much thought. Had a pretty good view of it for most of his life in the outback. The stars always felt too... distant. It was hard to care about something pretty when you couldn't touch it, steal it, or sell it, and you had more pressing concerns like the fact you hadn't eaten in a day, and you needed to haul in scrap early or you'd miss the next day too. Put things in perspective.
He'd used to count them sometimes though, when he needed a distraction. Helped when you couldn't sleep.
"The stars are coincidental," Symmetra assured him. "Have patience."
Junkrat gave a dramatic sigh. "My specialty."
"Oh, poor Jamison, what a cruel and tragic ordeal this must be for you," she teased, reaching into the basket for a flask and passing it his direction.
"I shall become a martyr," he declared, uncapping the lid and giving the contents a cautious sniff.
"It's tea," she told him.
Junkrat took a swig and found it to be warm, if a little sweet for his tastes. Not half bad though. He passed it back, and Symmetra poured herself a mug, keeping it clasped in both hands.
For a moment they remained like that in silence. Symmetra slowly sipping her tea, and Junkrat contemplating the distant city lights.
The grass rustled in the breeze. Not too cold, but refreshing, pleasant even. He supposed this was what calm must be.
"May I call you Jamie?"
The question caught him off guard, and he turned sharply to look at Symmetra, who was watching him with an unreadable expression. What was her game? What kind of question was that to spring on him? Or maybe he was overthinking it, perhaps she just wanted something more familiar sounding rather than the hoity-toity name his parents had lumped him with before they carked it? No one called him Jamie... but maybe if it was just her, that was okay. Nice, actually, but he always liked hearing her speak his name, whatever variation she chose.
Allowing a grin to spread slowly across his face he leaned back, propping himself up on his elbow. "Does this mean I can call ya Sat?"
"I do not think," she said, "that would be a great nickname."
"Aww, come on, that's prime joke material right there."
"That is precisely why it is not a great choice of nickname."
"Spoil all me fun..." he muttered, sticking his tongue out.
Symmetra frowned. She put her mug aside and lay down, propping herself up on her own elbow so they mirrored one another. "Satya is short enough, it has the same number of syllables as Jamie. If that will not suffice, I suppose you will have to be more creative with what you call me."
"Ya mean... like an actual nickname?"
"If you can think of one I approve of," she challenged.
Junkrat snapped his fingers. "Lightshow!"
She shook her head. "Too flashy."
"Uhhh... sweetlips?"
"Absolutely not."
"Lazerbabe?"
"You're really not taking this seriously," she said, but he could see the faint twitch at the corner of her lips that told him she was fighting back a smile. That was all it took to encourage him.
"Magic hands?" he hazarded, with a grin.
The line of her lips wavered, and finally gave in. "I think we shall stick with Satya."
"Ya do have a way with them hands though, among other things," he said, waggling his eyebrows.
"Behave," she chided him, "that can wait."
He gave an exaggerated sigh. "I give up, there's no pleasin' ya. Your turn, do a name for me, only fair."
Finding this agreeable Symmetra studied him. Her expression was completely grave, eyes narrowed slightly in concentration as she catalogued every inch of him, as if the answer were hidden on his person. Eventually she seemed to reach a conclusion that suited her, because she nodded. "Toasty."
Junkrat burst out into laughter, collapsing back onto the blanket in a fit of giggles.
"I don't see what's so funny," Symmetra said, "it's perfectly fitting. You often smell slightly burnt, even your hair is charred."
"Makes me sound like a bloody marshmallow is what it does! Toasty! That's crack up... tell ya what, let's just forget the whole nickname business for now, that kinda thing takes work."
"But you don't mind Jamie?" she persisted.
Junkrat paused for a second. "Nah," he said, "I don't mind it from you. I, uh... actually kinda like it."
"Then that is settled. We can save anything more fanciful for another day."
She lifted her prosthetic arm, a blue display blinking into existence, and Junkrat stared at it before realizing she was checking the time. Handy trick... pun intended.
"We gonna be waitin' much longer?"
"No," she said absently, and the display vanished, her fingers instead weaving together and forming a new shape that slowly solidified form the blue light. He leaned forward curiously, and she held her palm out to show him. "Earplugs. For me, not for you."
"Am I really ramblin' on that bad?" he half-joked, but Symmetra's hand closed around the the earplugs, and she reached forward to trail one finger of her prosthetic hand along the side of his jaw in a gesture he had not been expecting. There was something surprisingly tender about it, and unlike the metal of his own prosthetics her touch was not cold, merely tepid, like plastic left at room temperature. He still couldn't help but shiver.
"I could listen to you for a very long time," she said softly. "But I do not enjoy loud noises quite as much as I think you do. So, permit me this."
Junkrat swallowed. "Ya still ain't told me what we're waitin' for."
"Nor will I," she said, and yeah, she looked pretty damned smug as she put the earplugs in. God he loved her when she was smug.
With a sigh, he let himself flop back onto the blanket, one arm crooked beneath his head to cushion it. It seemed he had no choice but to wait then. Resigning himself to his fate, he began to count stars. The trouble, of course, was keeping track of the ones you'd already counted, but that was just another part of the game. You could spend an eternity but never know how many were up there.
He was somewhere in the mid-hundreds when a distant sound distracted him. He scowled, unable to quite place it, but there was something familiar about...
Suddenly the sky burst into light. Showers of brightly coloured sparks bloomed outward with a boom, rockets shrieking as more fled to join them. The noise alone was enough to have him bolt upright, but as he stared upward at the display, furiously putting the pieces together, the tension dripped from his shoulders and he sat back down heavily.
Junkrat's jaw hung slack. Fireworks. She had brought him to see fireworks. And yes, he could marvel at the beauty of them, cos there was no arguing with the aesthetics of fireworks, but somehow it was more than that...
People didn't do things for Junkrat, and he never expected them to. Yet Symmetra had planned this whole outing with him in mind, she'd known he'd like the fireworks – the volume, the vibrant bursts of colour, the time spent pondering what chemicals or compounds went into making each variant – she'd known it all, and had chosen it because of that. It made him feel oddly fluttery in a way he was ill accustomed to.
All this, for him? All this, because she knew that explosions spoke to him, and somehow she had managed to craft an experience for them both to enjoy, together. Because she cared.
He glanced across at her, opening his mouth to speak, but of course she couldn't hear. She was watching, though. Waiting, perhaps, to read his response.
So he smiled. And maybe he couldn't pour everything he wanted to say into that one expression, maybe it could never encompass the delight or peculiar vulnerability he felt at that precise moment, but she smiled back, and that was enough.
Junkrat held one hand out to her, and she took it without hesitation. Laying back on the blanket, the two of them watched the fireworks in silence, and Junkrat was utterly, utterly content.
If this was what a proper date was, he would move heaven and earth to grant her the same.
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