November 2025 Drabble #2

Roadhog/Soldier/Gabriel – voyeurism – Kinda pre OW fall – The Junkers have been picked up by Overwatch and are under surveillance.

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The Junkers know that they’re under surveillance 24/7. It’s why they’re being as annoying as possible. At least the skinny screeching one has been. Without his big bodyguard and locked away in isolation, he seems to be veritably bouncing off the walls, and Jack has had to go in there a few times already to take away some privileges like chairs and the single desk and the covers of the pillows and…

He’s an annoying little bastard is what he is.

Meanwhile, the fat one had only been sitting there in a corner, breathing heavily and otherwise frozen like a buddha. He hadn’t even moved to use the toilet yet. He’s been just… existing, that unsettling mask strapped to his face, and his massive stomach spilling over his belt.

He’s not been the problematic one, at least. Not until Jack gets a call from the soldier currently in charge of watching them and hurries down to the holding cells where he meets up with Gabriel.

Gabe is still wearing soft looking sleep pants and a tank top and there’s a crease from his pillow on his cheek, but his dark eyes are awake and he looks askance at Jack who just shrugs.

“Don’t know more than you do,” he mutters. They push in together to find that the soldier is sitting at his console with his head almost in his hands.

“Sirs,” he croaks. “I dunno, this is not… That ain’t in my job description? Right? Like… watchin’ a prisoner jack off?”

Jack feels his spine stiffen at the same moment that Gabriel huffs out a soft, disbelieving laugh.

“...The fuck are you on about?” he murmurs and shuffles closer, eying the screen of their skinny scarecrow of a prisoner. He, however, is sleeping for once, contorted weirdly on his mattress.

The soldier lifts his hand and points at the second monitor, and when Gabriel huffs another little laugh of disbelief, Jack slowly moves closer as well.

He doesn’t want to watch, of course. But…

The soldier has been right on the money, actually.

Mako Rutledge’s dick is out and his fist is around it and Jack kind of has to just stop and stare because that thing is massive. It’s certainly big enough to somehow curve out from underneath that huge belly, the crown impossibly thick and dark red and wet with pre-cum.

And there is a piercing, too. A fat ring that Jack would bet is as thick as his pinky finger is pierced through the piss slit and coming out at his dick’s goddamn throat and the sight is flooring him so much that he just stands there and watches as those massive fingers gently manipulate the jewelry.

Gabriel suddenly reaches out and slams his fist on a button. The next second, the speakers fill with the heavy, low grunts of their prisoner spilling into their little surveillance room.

Jack throws Gabriel an incredulous look. Gabriel just grins back at him with one corner of his mouth.

“Let him give us a show. If he so clearly wants to.”