How They Kiss [Part II]

overwatching-the-bae:

Have a Junker babe, noodle man, and silverfox~

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Roadhog:

His kiss lingers and is so deceptively light when you
consider how heavily his shadow and the heat of his body fall around you.
Sometimes it makes you jump. It isn’t quick, wet, or voracious, but grateful.
This is a man who lost everything trying to save it. Mako’s life didn’t just
revolve around Junkertown—it became it.

Everything was twisted and irradiated. He didn’t feel human
anymore.

Not until he kissed you.

Things slow down when he does, and he starts to remember
what life was like before he relied on the sweet Hogdrogen to protect himself.
To forget. The kiss is uneven and slightly puckered due to his tusk-like bottom
teeth but he doesn’t care. You were a clear head, a night’s rest, a moment of
total silence—everything he needed.

Hanzo:

Kissing Hanzo is something private and sacred. His beard is
soft and trimmed shortly; the feel of his lips process before the hairs at your
forehead. There’s a bit of firmness to it, a firmness he wears like armor, but
the longer his lips touch you, you feel his heart.

His real self.

The kiss dissolves into plush lips resting gingerly at your
forehead. You can never tell if he inhales through his nose, prolonging the moment
as he toes the line of bliss meditation cannot touch, or exhales as if to melt
entirely into you.

You just know that he can’t pull away without giving you two
or three fluttering kisses before his arms find your waist.

Soldier 76:

The first time he kissed you, you didn’t know what happened.
There was no tender moment of silence leading up to it, no anticipation or
tension. Just a suddenness, a breaking point. You listened without fishing and
exuded something he couldn’t help but seek out. You’d thawed his coldness and
softened the hardness life demanded of him.

Maybe that was why he cracked so easily around you.

You could feel the surrender in the peck, something that nudged
you a little too hard. His scarred lips were firm, bunched tightly in both a
refusal and inability to admit what he really needed. It felt like a slap on
the head, honestly. He reminded you of petulant toddler fighting sleep; he’d
finally touched the bed and realized how nice sleeping was.

It’s usually one of the few times he stands still during the
day, and knowing that makes those handful of seconds last a lifetime.