Stretching yourself awake, you got up, walking to the kitchen of the base. Junkrat stood leant against the counter, cup of coffee in hand and a tired look on his face. He didn’t have his mechanical arm on currently; wearing a baggy, white t-shirt, comfortable-looking shorts and socks. Or, sock. Pretty much pyjamas. Judging off the small, sleepy wave he gave you as you walked into the room, he probably wasn’t a morning person.

“G’day,” Junkrat muttered, stifling a yawn. “Sleep well?”