Chapter Text
“Zenyatta…”
Genji tenses up as the enormous Ravager traces Zenyatta’s jaw with one finger. Zenyatta seems to pity him; his head tilts to one side as he cups his angular faceplate, and Ramattra leans into it, melting into his touch with such astounding ease. Interesting, how not even the most skilled warriors can kill a Ravager, but Zenyatta, ever peaceful, can completely dismantle him without raising a hand.
“Zenyatta, please,” he moans, completely distraught. His voice trembles in a way Genji doesn't expect. “Do not leave me, beloved. Not again.”
He laughs, pretty as a bell. “I will come back, Ramattra. I shouldn’t be gone but for a few hours.”
“Mere minutes feel like eternity without you.”
Genji huffs. It seems like both of them have a passion for speaking in prose.
“I will return, and we will spend the rest of the night together. As long as you wish.”
The lights of his array flare as he tilts up his chin and presses them against his forehead. Blue against red, they blink in sequence. An Omnic kiss.
“I’d like that very much, my dear,” he utters tenderly.
His hands clasp together behind his neck, under the ribbon cables on his crown. “Then you’ll have me. But my duties lie with Overwatch. They need me.”
“Master,” Genji speaks. Ramattra seems to stiffen and draw himself up in response to the sound. “You need to go.”
“Why don’t you two spend some time together?”
Genji looks at Ramattra. Ramattra looks at him.
“If that’s what you want.” The Ravager is obviously not very fond of him.
That’s fine. Genji doesn’t like him, either.
But Zenyatta knows best, I suppose.
“I must go now, brother, but I will be back soon enough.”
“I hope so.”
Zenyatta bids them farewell. But not before sharing hugs with each of them, forcing them close together. Genji can feel the heat of Ramattra’s exhaust pipes blasting onto his sides. The warmth would be comforting, were it not for the aura of discord emanating off of him.
Ramattra looks at him and seems tense.
Genji doesn’t know what to do. Zenyatta has always been incredibly attuned to the emotions of others, even the invulnerable ones. Surely he knows that the two of them aren’t exactly on steady ground with each other. But he would certainly be heartbroken if they disliked each other, and the last thing he wants to do is hurt his master. So Genji elects to open the floodgates and try to bridge the cold gap between them.
“So you led Zenyatta to the monastery?”
He only realizes after that Ramattra might not want to talk about his past with Zenyatta. Then again, there’s only one way to find out, and now is his chance to try and figure out what their relationship is .
Not that it isn’t obvious. Details.
“I did,” Ramattra answers stiffly.
“And mentored him? For how long?”
“Many years.”
Maybe inflating his ego will open a path for him to take.
“He’s a great fighter. Hard to beat. You must be a formidable force in battle.”
“So I am told.”
Maybe not.
There’s silence for a moment after. Genji averts his eyes.
“I have heard the same of you,” he says quietly.
His synth is low, as if he were saying it under his breath and had not intended for Genji to hear. But he hears regardless.
He huffs. “I would hope so. I have been training my entire life, and would be sorely disappointed in myself if I were not a daunting foe by now.”
He knew he was. Zenyatta often told him, and he was far from the only one; pretty much everyone had positive things to say about his skills in battle. But as always, he was his own harshest critic.
Ramattra finally turns to face him wholly. “I’ll spar with you sometime.”
Genji is surprised at the genuine amusement in his synth. “I’ll have to take you up on that.”
~~~
“Your body.”
“Hm?”
Ramattra is peering at him intently, scanning him up and down. Genji can almost feel his eyes sliding across each metal panel and over his wires. It sends a strange and warm sensation over him.
“What happened to you?” he asks. “Surely you were not made that way.”
He shakes his head. “No. I nearly died, and my body had to be rebuilt.”
“How unfortunate. It must have been quite a struggle getting used to it.”
“It took me a long time to grow comfortable in this body, yes. I spent many nights hating what I had become and struggling with my own existence. But through the Shambali, through Zenyatta, I have found peace.”
There is amusement in his synth when he next speaks. “He has blessed us both in that way, I suppose.”
They sit there in silence for a long moment. Genji listens to the satisfying click of his mechanical parts, the hiss of his exhaust pipes. His eyes continue assessing him, sliding over his chest and arms, examining his struts. His gaze is intense, and he suddenly feels very hot.
“I suppose you wish to inspect me.”
He barks a laugh. “It is tempting. Your technological makeup is unlike anything I’ve ever seen, and I have always learned best with my hands.”
Genji looks at his hands. They’re enormous, far larger and bulkier than his. Strong enough to rip him clean in half, too.
He doesn’t like Ramattra. Doesn’t like the thought of his hands roaming over him, not nearly as merciful or friendly as Angela. He knows that Zenyatta would like them to get along, but surely this isn’t the only way to do it. There are other ways to bridge that gap. Zenyatta of all people would understand Genji forgoing an activity he is uncomfortable with; he worked for many long, fruitless hours trying to get him out of his shell.
But he has always enjoyed learning about his new mechanical body. There are no better minds than those of the engineers and mechanics that built him. He vaguely remembers the muffled sounds of their voices whispering over him, gushing over their newest work. A cyborg, a human machine. Isn’t that part of friendship, showing interest in their hobbies?
“I’ll allow it.”
“Are you certain?”
He’s aware of how invasive it can be. It can be personal, deadly, or even pleasurable under different circumstances. All it would take is a single misstep to damage him beyond repair.
Or draw him towards something else.
Not that he’s ever experimented with his own wires that way, let alone allowed someone else to do it.
He doesn’t fully trust Ramattra. He can’t, knowing what he’s done. But Zenyatta trusts him, and despite his optimism and hope, he isn’t naive. He doesn’t trust blindly. His trust is like a gold star, and Ramattra might as well be collecting them from him at this point. He can’t trust him, but he can tolerate him. Any friend of Zenyatta is a friend of Genji, right?
(Friend? Lover? Teacher? What are they?)
He crosses his legs in front of him in a lotus position and bows his head for Ramattra, exposing his spine. “Go on.”
The Ravager hesitates for a moment longer. He listens to him breathe before shivering when his hands gently stroke his spinal plates.
“It is quite beautiful craftsmanship,” he says. “I must admit, I’ve been admiring it for quite some time.”
“I agree.” His voice is more breathless than he’d like.
Fingertips dance across his shoulder blades and spinal struts. He feels his blades gently removed from his back and set aside, not without great care. Genji has to force himself to breathe when Ramattra squeezes his shoulders and neck, warmth ebbing out of his palms and into his aching silicone muscles. He mutters to himself absently, counting in sequences and taking note of the unusual. The ninja listens with interest and amusement.
Sensors are toyed with as he explores his shoulder blades. His fingers dip into little crevices, navigating exhaust pipes, prying into the little nooks between plates. Genji leans side to side, forward and backward, to grant him access.
His hands travel a bit lower, to his mid back, and spread out like spillage. “I wonder…”
Buttons are pressed. Genji gasps as cold air washes over his back, the spinal plates receding to expose the remains of his pale, blemished skin. Ramattra’s cold fingertips trace the edges of his armor and make him shiver again.
“Clever,” he whispers. “You’re a fast learner.”
“It is your master who taught me observance.”
His back isn’t composed of flesh anymore. Much of it is a hollow, synthetic carbon fiber shell lined with silicone and wiring, boned with steel. Now that the wires are exposed, Genji is a lot more receptive to his touch. Ramattra brushes against his back, strokes little cords here and there, and merely explores. Genji finds himself jumping sometimes, jolting up and twitching when he touches some things. A warm sensation pools in his stomach. His face goes ruddy.
“I gather by your responses that you do not often expose yourself this way.”
“No..”
“How does it feel?”
He grows absorbed in the way his hands gently dance across his shoulders and down his spine to his hips and back again. He whimpers in a broken way, tries to suppress his trembling, and can’t. Doesn’t want to.
“I-It feels…good.”
“Some find it invasive,” Ramattra says. “Let me know if you want me to stop.”
“Don’t stop.”
“You like it?”
He strokes his wires experimentally. Genji trembles.
“Yes,” he says.
He’s surprised at his own desperation. Ramattra’s hands leave him for but a moment and he whines in earnest, shoulders tensing up. Luckily, the Ravager is surprisingly generous; he is very thorough in his examination, slow and calculating, with the methodical presence of an enchanted engineer. He doesn’t comment on the way Genji squirms, coming undone in his hands. His cooling systems kick up in an effort to water down the flames in his chest. His hands clench and unclench on his knees.
Either he is extremely sensitive, or Ramattra is incredibly skilled with his hands.
Makes him wonder how good it must feel when he’s purposefully stroking his cords.
Ramattra pauses and chuckles at the disappointed noise he makes. “I suppose I can almost understand Zenyatta’s fondness for you.” One more gentle tease. One more twitch. “You’re almost cute.”
“ Thanks ,” he grumbles.
“Ah, where does this little wire go?”
He traces its length down his back and towards the dimple of his tailbone. Genji jolts, and Ramattra moves a hand to support his lower back. His palms are warm and hold firm. He finds himself trusting him a little more. He relaxes into his grip and leans more into the pleasure.
He traces the cord down, and with a little twist of his fingertips, Genji’s modesty panel recedes.
“Ah.”
He isn’t sure whether that noise comes from Ramattra or himself.
“Oh, of course you have a penis. You had a human body. They would want to create it faithful to the original, wouldn’t they?”
Genji doesn’t respond. He is far too in shock to say anything.
Ramattra has his head on his shoulder, peering over it, examining his fully aroused cock, albeit with a clinical eye. He’s mortified .
“So aroused,” he remarks. “Have you never toyed with your own wires?”
“N-No…”
While he is surprised at how quickly he had succumbed to the pleasure, he feels no desire to cover himself up or stop this. It’s been so long since he’s felt this good, and he wants to feel it harder. The discomfort begins to bleed away.
“Does the length of this penis match that of your previous body?”
“In large part, yes,” he replies.
“Do you have an entrance as well?”
“Yes.”
Ramattra’s tone is suddenly lower. His deep voice rumbles sensually in his audio sensors, vibrating the metal. “Why is that?” he asks. “Surely you don’t produce waste.”
“For…pleasure, I suppose. A-And out of faithfulness to the original.”
“I understand you humans are quite protective of your genitals. I won’t touch where you do not desire.”
He’s struck by that. Ramattra wants to explore him, even there, and is asking permission to do so.
Why, then, does he nod his head? “You may touch me anywhere, so long as it feels like this.”
Little shivers race up his spine as Ramattra scoots him back a little bit, lifting him by his waist. He’s so tiny compared to the Ravager. He picks him up effortlessly, like a sack of flour.
“Very well.” His faceplate tips to one side. “Would you prefer a more private setting?” he asks with a chuckle. “I would not want to bare your interior to any unsuspecting visitors.”
“Y-Yes, that would be highly preferable.”
Something about the thought of Ramattra spreading him open to examine his insides makes his liquid cooling system kick up a notch.
(He’s fantasizing about him now? Iris, forgive him.)
His legs are shaky when he swings them over the side of the table and stands. His entire body is trembling, electricity arcing across his wires. He’s almost ashamed; a mighty warrior, ever strong in the face of such atrocities, felled by a sensual touch. Pathetic. Perhaps this is a skill he can hone.
Then again, it wasn’t even sensual, was it? Ramattra was an engineer, a mechanic fascinated by the construction of his metal body, and merely sought to explore. That was all.
Was it?
As Genji guides him hastily to his room, he asks the Ravager “Is touching one’s wiring… supposed to feel so pleasurable?”
(Lubricant is collecting at his entrance and slowly leaking down his inner thighs. It’s never done that before.)
“It can,” Ramattra replies. His tone is abnormally gravelly. “It depends on the sensitivity of the recipient and the skill of the explorer. I was not trying to bring you pleasure. You must be exceptionally sensitive, or inexperienced.” He sighs and laughs. “Zenyatta was the same way when I first performed maintenance on him.”
Genji elects to completely ignore the thought of Ramattra exploring his master’s body (for now).
“I have not ever been touched that way while conscious. They feared the wires would electrocute me, and always sedated me to perform maintenance.”
“So this would be your first time?”
“Yes.”
“Ah, that would explain it.”
Genji’s room is very plain. It has merely a twin mattress, dresser, and bathroom. He doesn’t have many belongings. Ramattra, as complex as he is, looks very out of place.
“On the bed, if you please.”
Genji does as he’s told, albeit hesitantly.
Ramattra seems to notice this hesitance as he crouches on the floor beside the bed. “Do you not wish to continue?”
“I do,” he mutters. “It just…are you trying to woo me now, or still simply exploring?”
The Ravager laughs, though it is not as hearty and loud as his other laughs. “‘Woo’ might be a bit strong. I was not trying to seduce you initially, but now you are very clearly aroused and, as you have stated, have never experienced sexual gratification in this body. I feel obligated to help.”
“You don’t have to,” Genji says firmly.
Ramattra’s hand settles on his leg and stills him.
“I want to.”
He traces the synthetic muscle. Genji relaxes into the gentle dance of his fingers, breath quickening, as they make a path up his inner thigh.
“You do not have Zenyatta’s appeal, but you are quite alluring nonetheless.”
His voice has that gravelly lisp again. “And what do you get out of it?”
“A glimpse into technology I have not yet explored. The fruition of an experiment.”
He palms Genji between his legs. He gasps, back arching.
“And my own pleasure.”
Ramattra cups his genitals. His hand is large enough to tease the tip of his dick with his thumb while simultaneously tracing the slick green ridge of his exterior gate. Genji struggles to close his legs with the weight and width of his arm between them, so he opens them wider instead, giving the war machine more room to work. Ramattra hums appreciatively and spreads his thighs with his other hand.
Genji gasps. His back is arching terribly into the bed, fingers grasping at the sheets, threatening to tear. His breath and sweat is beginning to condense on his visor, so he locks it onto his forehead instead. It offers him a clearer view of Ramattra as he methodically strokes his turgid length up and down. His fingertips catch on the ridges of his cock and slick themselves on lubricant. He can hardly stand to watch, so he turns his face into the mattress instead.
“Mmh,” he rumbles. “You are quite cute, Genji.”
“A-Am I-?”
He laughs fondly with a few quick tugs on his dick, making him moan wildly each time. “Yes. Look at how needy you are. Your hips are machines on their own, the way they fly up to meet me when I touch you.”
Ramattra stops the motions of his hand. Automatically, without a given command, Genji’s hips thrust brokenly into his grip, desperate for friction, bracing his legs on the bed to bridge the distance. It makes his legs quiver with the effort, and Ramattra pities him, pressing him back down and bearing down on his penis again.
“About time I encountered another automatic sexual response system,” he mutters, tone begrudging. “All the other Omnics I have toyed with have manual response systems. Quite slow, and I dislike the halt of progress.”
“A-Another-?” he sputters. “You h-have genitals?”
“I do. I was born with a mix of reused blueprints. The model used for my pelvis happened to include an entrance, shaft, and modesty panel, and since the Omnium was abundant with those parts, Anubis felt no need to exclude them.”
(He wants to see his shaft and feel it inside of him, explore him the way he is being explored. But he decides against voicing those wishes for now.)
“I am aroused,” he adds. “If you are interested in seeing.”
( You read my mind. )
“I-I think I would like that…”
He somehow completely misses the notion that the show he’s putting on is arousing to the Ravager.
Ramattra chuckles again. “I know you humans appreciate reciprocation during sex. If it makes you more comfortable, I will expose myself as well.”
He admits it now. They’re having sex. Genji finds he doesn’t mind the thought as much as he would have a few hours ago.
“Wait.”
Ramattra pauses. Ever patient, just like his previous student.
“Zenyatta…”
He doesn’t know what his relationship is with his master. The two of them are very affectionate with each other, and intimate as far as he can tell. But they haven’t been together for years. He doesn’t want to ruin his relationship with Zenyatta, or Ramattra’s. A heartbroken Zenyatta is not something he ever wants to witness.
He chuckles. “You care deeply for him, don’t you?”
“As do you. I don’t want to hurt him.”
“And you won’t,” he says. “We are affectionate with one another, yes, but we have an explicitly open relationship with one another. I wouldn’t even go so far as to label us lovers except for simplicity. I have explored other options, as I’m sure he has, as well.”
He sighs. “I’ve been…wondering about that.”
“You aren’t the only one, I suppose. Yes, we were very close in the monastery, but we never sought to apply human labels to our relationship. Now that we’ve reconnected, we apply the same rules; We simply…are. That is that.”
Genji nods, his uneasiness relieved. That’s all he needed to know.
“Are you fit to continue?”
“Yes. Go on.”
His modesty panel (not terribly hidden like Zenyatta’s or Genji’s are) recedes, and his enormous segmented cock springs to attention in its wake. It is huge and pitch black and intimidating, just like the rest of him.
“You may touch me anywhere you like,” he says. “Just to be fair.”
Genji springs on the opportunity. He leans forward and takes him in hand, rubbing over his gigantic length and squeezing. Ramattra stiffens with a deep inhale, but does nothing to stop him. Lubricant leaks out onto his hand and spills between his fingers. He lets out a tiny little grunt for his efforts.
“Mmh…”
Genji teases him too. He stops the motion of his hand and merely holds him. Ramattra whines, and he moves to pick up the slack, bracing himself against the bed frame so he can thrust slowly into his grip, tearing a groan from him at each stroke.
“Ugh. Right there…”
His hand gently closes around his wrist and keeps him still. The rapid motion of his cock slings lubricant across his lap and bedsheets, his hands clenching and unclenching as he throws his head back. Ribbon cables spill out of his scarf and drape across his back and shoulders.
“Good boy, Genji…”
“Get on the bed.”
“I’m not so sure it can handle my weight.”
“Try.”
He plants his left knee onto the bed. He groans, cock bobbing up into his stomach as he settles onto his arms. Crawling. The frame creaks under him, but does not give.
He nods. “It’ll hold, so long as we aren’t too…rambunctious.”
Genji’s eyes twinkle. “Leave the rambunctiousness to me.”
“Very well,” Ramattra says with equal mirth. “Would you like to see if-“
“-your dick will fit inside me? Very much.”
He chuckles darkly. “Perhaps we are more alike than I thought.”
Genji lays flat on his back and spreads his legs as wide as he can. By now, the insides of his thighs are slick with lubricant and his entrance is loose, ready to be penetrated. He never thought he’d be so receptive to sex, let alone with someone like Ramattra , but he doesn’t care for his pride right now. The Ravager spreads his legs, holding him firm by the ankles and scooting up so their pelvises meet. He scoops his hands under him and palms his buttocks, merely feeling him, and Genji encourages it by wrapping his arms around his neck.
They’re so close like this. He can feel every minute movement of his body. He can feel the warm kiss of burnt fuel blasting from his exhaust pipes. His body is warm, and he craves it.
“Please, Ramattra…”
“So needy,” he remarks with a laugh. “Give me a moment. I need to prepare you.”
He slides his hand down under his twitching cock and prods at his entrance. Slick moistens his fingertips and Genji gasps when he begins the slow slide into his clutch. His fingers dig into his shoulders as he pushes, tightening up around the intrusion.
“Relax, Genji,” he whispers into his audio receiver. “I won’t fit anything inside of you if you are tense like this. Relax for me, and the pain will pass.”
“I-I could… ah ..loosen it m-manually…”
“But it won’t be pleasurable that way, trust me. Just relax.”
He sucks in a few deep breaths. Ramattra coos in his ear “Good boy, Genji. So good for me.” His fingertips finally slip in and the ninja gasps under him. He grabs the ribbon cables on his crown and pulls. “Keep breathing. Just a little more.”
He keeps gasping for breath, bowing out under Ramattra as his fingers press into his interior. His digits rub his insides and flip fiery switches inside of him, sparks of pleasure racing up his body. He screams his name out to the heavens, thankful for the soundproof walls. Pain begins to blend into pleasure, more lubricant added to ease the transition.
“Such silky insides,” Ramattra comments, his tone professional. “I wonder if they truly emulate a human rectum. I’ve never fingered one of those before.”
Genji gasps as his knuckles press against his buttocks and hold fast. The two center fingers, middle and ring, have been taken to the knuckle and spread out to stretch him open. He’s trembling uncontrollably, spasming as he reaches the precipice of orgasm.
“O- Oh god …Ramattra, Ramattra…” he chants.
“Genji, Genji,” he whispers in reply. “I’ll push you over the edge, if that’s what you want.”
“I w-want to.. please …”
“Very well.”
He draws his fingers out marginally before shoving them back in. His knuckles continue to spread him impossibly, and it’s the stretch that sends him into overdrive. He hears liquid rushing in his ears as his cooling system kicks into maximum power. His back arches, and he screams, spasming in the light of the evening sun through the window. It glistens off of his metal plates and blinds him like the golden halo that envelops him during his overload. Ramattra places his hand on his chest and guides him back down to the mattress. His chest flutters where he touches it, like wildflowers in his hands, like butterflies, and for the first time in a long time, he hears the ghost of his heart pounding in his head. The adrenaline crashes and all that remains is a delicious, soothing ache, like golden honey, settling over him.
He pants for a long moment afterwards. Ramattra simply watches, still buried deep inside of him. He has difficulty catching his breath with the rest of his visor covering his mouth, so he removes that as well, his tongue hanging out, pale skin running red with embarrassment.
“That was overload?”
He nods. “Yes. How did it feel?”
Genji closes his eyes, reminiscing of the fleeting taste of it. “ Incredible …”
“I would understand if your energy were too depleted to continue,” Ramattra says. His tone is amused yet sympathetic. “Overload can be, as the name implies, overwhelming , especially for a virgin.”
“No. I am fit to continue. It is only fair to bring you to overload as well.” Genji prides himself on his stamina as well as his skills. Now is the time to exercise it.
Truth be told, he is embarrassed that he had finished so quickly. Ramattra seems like an understanding individual, but he finds himself ashamed nonetheless.
“Very well.”
He is nearly disturbed at the easy way Ramattra slides his slick fingers out of him. Cold air rushes into the cavity after him, immediately blocked by his dick as he lines it up to his gate. Genji whimpers; the thing is enormous at the initial touch.
“Be at ease. I’ll be gentle, I promise.”
“I’m not worried about thAT-!” He is caught completely unawares when Ramattra thrusts, and he’s shoved halfway up the bed when he doesn’t open up to it. “ W-Wait! ”
He laughs very loudly. “Forgive me, I couldn’t resist.”
Genji grumbles under his breath. “I’m worried about ,” he says, accentuating each word. “You splitting me in half. I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t been gentle already.”
“I won’t split you in half. Just relax, and let me in, and we won’t encounter any problems.”
He is more than eager to ‘let him in’. He spreads his legs as wide as they’ll go and invites Ramattra to continue. His grip closes around his waist, holding him down, pressing him onto his spear, and Genji acquiesces, squirming and keening as the pressure grows. He tries to keep his breathing steady and relaxed, but all of his progress shatters when the crown of Ramattra’s member finally pops into him.
“Keep breathing,” the Ravager whispers. His synth is beginning to halt and stutter as he gives in to the pleasure. He continues pushing in, pulling Genji onto his cock little by little. “I’m almost there.”
He focuses more on his breathing and lets Ramattra take him. He’s twitching and moaning beyond help, back arching into his waiting grasp. Ramattra reaches down to stroke his length. Genji gasps, crying out in pleasure. He’s embarrassed by how close he is already, how easily it is to teeter over that razor’s edge. Ramattra’s member buried deep inside him, deeper than anything has ever gone, going deeper still as he thinks, his entire face exposed and red, squirming and writhing and moaning as he lays strung out under his eager touch. It’s all so intimate . More intimate than he’s ever been with anyone; even his friends, even Zenyatta, who he thinks knows him best. Just a few hours earlier, he would have said he despised Ramattra. Embarrassing. How the mighty fall.
His shame overwhelms him as he turns his ruddy face into the sheets and closes his eyes, away from his partner. The Ravager takes hold of his dick and strokes him idly. He thrusts up into the fingers teasing his shaft. “D-Don’t!” he screams, even as he leans into it. “I-I’m about to..!”
“I want you to,” Ramattra says. “Come for me, Genji.”
That voice. Low and intense and intimate . It pushes him over the edge.
Ramattra finally hilts inside of him and grinds (he hadn’t even realized his progress had halted). His grip tightens on his dick. Genji moans brokenly and comes, spasming uncontrollably, back arching into his messy sheets. He’s still riding the faint high of his last overload, so when this one arrives he nearly loses his mind, so overwhelmed by the tingling sensation that rushes through his circuits. His head lolls and he merely lays there and pants.
Ramattra’s rumbling laugh brings him back to reality. “That makes twice now,” he says matter-of-factly.
He glares at him with fatigue weighing on his plates. “Thanks for keeping track. Oh, god. ” His words fall flat as Ramattra sweeps up his release, metal and silicone sliding into his insides.
Warm, solid metal plating presses against his rear and Ramattra sighs. “Impressive,” he breathes. “You took every segment. You’re such a tiny thing, I thought you would have given up by now.”
Genji takes a moment to collect his breath. He feels like it’s been knocked out of him, even though he hasn’t suffered any blows. “I-I…I would never give up..so easily… ha …”
“Pace yourself, little dragon. I haven’t even started moving yet.”
He takes a better hold of Genji and strokes him idly, making him squirm. Already, his member twitches in interest.
The ninja grabs Ramattra’s wrist and bites down on his tongue. “P-Please…don’t. I feel like my dick is about to fall off.”
The Ravager laughs heartily, but does as he asks. He braces himself against the headboard, looming over Genji, ribbon cables draping over his shoulders and framing his ivory faceplate. He looks so strangely beautiful, the evening sun a halo around his silhouette, and Genji finds it difficult to look away from him. He’s everywhere; above him, beneath him, inside him.
Ramattra wiggles and adjusts his hips. The movement loosens one of the segments of his dick and it comes free. Effortlessly, he slips it back inside, and the sensation sends a full-body shiver through him.
His hands meander down from the bed’s frame and trace his metal pectorals. He strokes his shoulders and arms and stomach, exploring just like he had been earlier.
“Are you in any pain?”
“N-Not anymore..”
“Then you are prepared for me to move?”
“Yes. G-Go, before I lose my mind.”
He abruptly pulls out three segments in rapid succession before slipping them back inside. Genji moans, long and loud, completely cutting down his restraint as Ramattra looms over him, hands on either side of his head. He hears the bed creak as he picks up his pace. The motion becomes more and more seamless. The pair are a symphony of movement and rhythm, skin against metal, metal against skin.
Ramattra’s faceplate is static, and therefore doesn’t display any semblance of emotion. But he can hear his synth degrading and his ventilation kicking up. Genji can’t pick apart the sections of his shaft anymore; the whole thing is a single, turgid pillar that thrusts into him rapidly with little give, slicking its path with lubricant as it goes along. He wonders how experienced Ramattra is; looking at him through bleary eyes, Genji feels awash in the presence of a divinity, someone whose whole body moves as a singular, synthetic muscle. He can’t tell if Ramattra’s just that good or he’s just that bad.
Regardless, his hands tear at his iron wrists. His legs fall apart, useless. He thought that the lack of motion would make him lose it, but it was the motion itself that drove him that much closer to the brink of insanity.
“Oh..It’s been so long …” Ramattra braces his arms on the headboard, clutching at the wood as he loses himself.
“A-Are you… close ..?”
“Getting there,” he says. “Did you want me to speed up?”
He bites his lip. Ramattra continues peering at him from between the trembling ribbon cables on his crown. Genji wishes, absentmindedly, that he had lips that he could bite instead.
“No. In f-fact…could you-“
“Slow down?”
He does as he asks, as if to demonstrate. His hips roll into his rear, slow and deep, and Genji makes the most egregiously erotic noise he thinks he’s ever heard in his entire life. His eyes roll back and his spine arches impossibly.
“ Ohhhh god …y-yeah…just.. mmf ..just like that.” He stumbles over his words like marbles over glass.
Ramattra grunts comprehensively. His hands wrap around his waist and the ninja love-drunkenly believes that his touch is almost tender .
“Do you have hair in that little hood of yours?” he asks. As if in question, his hand drifts from his waist to the crown of his head, tugging absently at the fabric and carbon fiber.
“I d-do.”
His rolling hips slow to a stop. “May I see?”
His brows furrow, but he reluctantly takes his hood off. Eager to see every bit of him, isn’t he? His short crop of black hair slips out from under the fabric.
Ramattra hums, leans forward, and rakes his fingers through his hair. Like a deer in the headlights, Genji freezes, eyes wide. He tugs on the strands and gently strokes his scalp. Exploring, just like he always does.
“Mm. You are cute.”
“How many t-times are you g- uh -!”
He’s interrupted by Ramattra thrusting back inside of him and filling him out. The erotic noises return at full force. He closes his eyes and enjoys the sensations of being full to the brim .
“I’ll say it as many times as I like,” Ramattra teases. “It’s true.”
Genji isn’t fond of being interrupted, but he supposes he can let it slide this time.
The war machine gently thumbs at his leaking cock and he lets out a rather undignified squeak . The sound makes him laugh. “Aw. Is that too much, little dragon?” He palms his shaft, rubbing it sensually up and down in tandem with the movement of his hips.
Genji musters up the strength to lean forward and slap his arm. “F-Fuck off y-you smug… oh, god …What are you-?”
His thoughts are cut off as Ramattra flips him onto his stomach. He’s careful; his thrusting never ceases, cock never leaving his interior. The movement reminds Genji of the achy trembling in his limbs, and he shivers. His warm black palms rest heavy on his back and slide down the metal plates. He squeaks again when the Ravager squeezes his buttocks, a laugh burbling out of his synth.
“Such an attractive build. Color me impressed. I’d love to meet whoever designed you.”
Genji thought that ‘whoever designed your parts’ might have been more comfortable for him, but he disregards it. Ramattra’s probably never been with a cyborg before, with his hatred of humans even permeating into the half-bloods. Still, he finds him attractive, something he never expected to hear from anyone, let alone Ramattra.
Genji gasps sharply when the Ravager leans fully over him, his hard front pressed against his back. His grunts and moans echo right into his audio sensors, so quiet and close, and his face immediately turns red. He can’t tell if Ramattra is doing it to rile him up, or if he really is enjoying himself.
“Do you want me to release inside of you, Genji?” he murmurs.
The sound makes him shiver with a whine. “A-Are you..about to…?”
“Yes.”
There is a strong note of desperation in his synth, and it catches him off guard with how sincere it is.
“I-I wouldn’t… ah ..m-mind it…”
If only he had lips. Genji would make out with him like it were his last day on earth. But just because he doesn’t have lips doesn’t mean he can’t try regardless; Ramattra grunts with surprise as Genji grabs his chin and presses rough, desperate kisses to his angular faceplate. He acquiesces, and presses his red, surging array to his temple, the lights flaring brightly. An Omnic kiss.
His fleeting touches grow harried as he nears his end. “Genji,” he whispers. “Genji, Genji, I-I…” Chanting.
“Come on, come on.”
Violet fingertips trace the edge of each spinal plate with a frantic shakiness. Genji bites his lip as Ramattra picks up his pace, losing himself in the final throes of pleasure.
His cold faceplate makes contact with the flushed red flesh at the back of his neck, and he ‘kisses’ that as well with his final words whispered into his shoulder blades. “Fuck ..G-Genji-! ”
The strength of his orgasm sends his body into trembling convulsions. His grip threatens to crush his waist, core vibration and his synth ruined with static and moans of utter bliss. Genji hisses as hot lubricant floods his rippling interior and sends a warm surge of electricity up his spine.
There’s a harsh grinding noise, and Genji startles as Ramattra goes completely still and silent above him. Struggling a bit with the warm wash of honey through his body, he turns around and glances at the Ravager. His red array is flickering, completely locked in place (aside from absent shuddering that he can’t seem to control). As he continues to watch, life returns to the bot with a flicker of light and a sigh. Genji half-smiles; his voice is broken .
“Are you alright?” he asks. He finds it difficult to talk suddenly, like the air has been punched out of him. “What happened?”
Ramattra sounds… embarrassed in replying. “My overload was so strong, my systems entirely rebooted.”
Genji blinks.
“I…”
“Forgive me if I frightened you,” he continues. “It has been so long since I’ve enjoyed intimacy like this. I may have been overzealous.”
He can’t help but smirk , an act that seems to puzzle him as he cocks his head.
“Relax. I enjoyed it.”
Another small sigh. His joints slowly unlock and settle back into that familiar fluidity that is so lifelike for a machine of war. So natural, so alive . Genji stares and admires the way the sun hits the side of his face.
Ramattra stares right back. Whether or not he expects the ninja to say something, he doesn’t give an indication. They are awash in afterglow, and despite the slight pinch of reality setting in, Genji is determined to enjoy this moment. Enjoy the warmth of the sun on his plating as it sets, the comfort of his bed, stinking of sex and oil, and (despite their differences) the strong body pinning him to the mattress.
He’s determined to enjoy it until he hears a knock at the door, and then the click of the latch coming undone.
“Ah. I see you have been busy.”
Genji stares, absolutely horrified, at his master floating nonchalantly in the doorway as Ramattra completely disengages and spills lubricant all down his front. Genji squeaks as his interior gapes open, and his legs are closed immediately when Zenyatta glances at him. For once, he wishes his faceplate wasn’t static so he could determine how to feel about this.
“M-Master…”
Of all the people he expects to see in that doorway when he turns his head, the Omnic monk is not one he would prefer.
“Zenyatta,” the Ravager breathes. He doesn’t sound at all mortified. His synth is just as easy and nonplussed as Zenyatta’s. “I was beginning to wonder when you would return.”
He nodded. “Indeed, I just came back. And you have been…bonding, as I suggested.”
Ramattra laughs heartily like he always does. Genji would have glared at him if he weren’t so open and vulnerable. “Indeed, we have. I’d go so far as to say that we’ve gotten along very well . Isn’t that right, Genji?”
Both of them look at him. Can they not see the abject terror in his eyes? Zenyatta merely cocks his head and giggles .
“Forgive me. I should have knocked. But I was concerned by the noise I heard, which I understand now was not quite distress.”
Oh, god. How long had he been listening?
Ramattra stands up. His cock is still half-hard and slinging the remaining lubricant all over the floor. Zenyatta doesn’t react except for a swift glance, nothing more. Genji finally musters up the strength to draw up his modesty panel and pull the blankets up over his head, shielding his burning face from their arrays. Ramattra and Zenyatta both laugh.
“I will leave you to finish,” he says. “You may forgo our evening spar if you feel unfit to join me, Genji. In my experience, Ramattra can do… quite a number on one’s circuits.”
He did not need to hear that.
“Goodnight, Genji. Goodnight, Ramattra.”
“…g-goodnight, master…” he manages to sputter before the door closes behind the monk.
A soft click. Genji is merely left with the sound of his rapid breathing and Ramattra chuckling.
“Oh, get out from under there. Your plates will need cleaning.”
He pulls the blankets off of Genji, who has nearly broken into tears. Ramattra seems to soften at that, and his modesty panel pulls back into place and hides his member as he sits to comfort him.
His hand rubs his back gently. “Relax, Genji. Zenyatta does not mind.”
His mouth remains shut. As the minutes tick by, his breathing slowly steadies.
His master saw him buck naked , fucking his former partner.
After a moment, he sighs and decides to completely shut down that train of thought. He’ll deal with it later.
Ramattra moves to say something else, but Genji stops him. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Very well,” he replies. “Let’s get you cleaned up, yes?”
He tries to sit up. But he is suddenly overwhelmed by an ache ripping through his entire body, slowing his movement with a groan. It makes him panic. He’s supposed to be agile, capable, fast, and now he’s been compromised.
“Genji?”
His voice is smooth, rhythmic, and intense. It rumbles through his mainframe and makes him shudder. It brings him back to the real world; Ramattra’s hand on his back, tracing the spinal struts with an absent tenderness. Genji isn’t sure whether he’s doing it on purpose or not, but he doesn’t care.
“Can’t we bathe later?” he asks. His tone is exhausted and there’s nothing he can do to prevent it. “I’m tired.”
Ramattra is insistent, though. “I would rather not ruin a perfectly good set of blankets, or a perfectly good pair of machines. Come, it won’t take very long at all.”
He braces his arms under his body and picks him up without any effort at all. Genji falls completely limp in his arms, absorbed in his thrumming core and synth vibrating in his chest.
Ramattra carries him into the bathroom and does exactly as he promises. He thoroughly cleans Genji’s plating and silicone parts, meticulously absorbing every bit of lubrication with a cloth and going over it with varnish afterwards. Genji is dry and clean afterwards, and exhausted as he is, he cannot help but enjoy it. It’s a much more thorough cleaning than he can give himself. He watches Ramattra examine himself in the mirror and clean his own parts. He hums to himself and speaks sometimes, to no one in particular, as he tilts his chassis back and forth and polishes every bit of steel he can reach.
Genji volunteers to change the sheets, but Ramattra sternly dissuades him, and places him gently in a corner armchair while he does it. He fumbles a bit with the fitted sheet, grumbling to himself. It makes Genji giggle, and Ramattra glares at him only to break into laughter himself. He fluffs the ninja’s pillows, tucks in the sheets and comforter. It looks so domestic for a war machine.
Eventually, Genji finds himself tucked into bed by the Ravager. His visor and helmet are gently placed on his nightstand, any extraneous armor bits neatly set aside. Ramattra sits perfectly still and glimmering in the remaining sunlight.
“Comfortable?” he asks.
“Yes.” He yawns. “Are you..”
He falls silent when Ramattra stands. He stares for a moment longer, does nothing, says nothing, before starting for the door.
He barely takes a step before Genji is reaching out for him. “Wait! Where are you going?”
“I thought you would have preferred your solitude after we were finished.”
His synth is low, neutral.
Genji matches his tone. “Maybe before. But not now.”
Another beat of silence passes. Distantly, walking through the corridors, Genji swears he can hear Zenyatta laughing. Maybe it’s just his imagination.
“Is there somewhere else you need to be? Want to be?”
“No.” He isn’t sure which end of the question he’s referring to. Maybe both.
“Then stay with me. Please.”
He isn’t sure why he wants him. Maybe he just wants his warmth. Maybe he wants his strong arms around him again, to be held in a way he’s never been held before. Maybe they’re alike in that they haven’t been intimate with anyone in such a long, long time that the simple, primitive act of sex fools Genji’s brain, drunk on serotonin and the fading afterglow of their sex, into thinking he’s falling in love with the Ravager, and he wants to stay close to that source of tenderness and affection for as long as possible.
Regardless of his own reasons, withheld, Ramattra nods. “Very well.”
Genji crawls out from under the blankets. The mattress bends under Ramattra’s weight as he crawls onto it, flipping onto his side. He’s enormous, and the bed can barely accommodate both of them, but they make it work. Genji rolls to face the window, the blooming Sakura trees beyond the one-directional glass, and Ramattra’s body entirely cups his frame, so tiny next to his bulk. Steam caresses his chassis. He shivers when the machine gently tilts his head and lines the nape of his neck with a series of warm smooches from his array, from the intersection of his white faceplate and purple jaw, where lips would probably be.
“Thank you,” he whispers.
“What for?”
“For staying.”
He chuckles. “You need not thank me, Genji,” he replies. “I wanted to stay all along.”