Target Practice
Jun. 13th, 2020 08:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shadowhiveTarget Practice
Pairing: None (but implied Kobra Kid/Jet Star, Jet Star/Party Poison)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Guys getting boners over Jet Star shooting things
Prompt: Jet Star gun
Notes: Fordreamsdare for the prompt thing last night
Party Poison and Kobra Kid we’re leaning against the back wall of the old diner that they were currently using as a hideout. Both were thankful that the sun’s angle meant that they were in the shade as it was too fucking warm. Usually they’d been inside during weather like this, resting or planning. But not today.
The reason for that was several feet away from them. There stood their fellow Killjoy, Jet Star, wearing just jeans and a t-shirt that showed off his arms. Clasped in his hands was his raygun and he was aiming at a set of targets that were set up to shoot. Some were empty cans of power pup, resting on rocks or boxes while others were Drac masks atop cactuses.
Jet adjusted his stance slightly, the sound of the dirt moving under his shoes filling the air. And then he pulled the trigger and two flashes of light flew through the air, stroking the cans and knocking them off their place on a rock, the metal clanging against the desert floor.
Kobra let out a breath that he hadn’t realised he’d been holding, shifting slightly against the wall. There was something about the way that Jet did this, something about his marksmanship and his competence that just...
Plus it didn’t hurt that Jet was looking like that, the heat of the sun making him sweat, his clothes clinging to his skin.
He knew that Poison felt the same, at least from the way he wiggled beside him, his eyes locked on him as he fired off another few shots. This time his target was a cactus and he struck it in the ‘chest’ before hitting square in the mask. The cactus’ hard skin was blackened and slightly smoking from the hits and Poison let out a soft gasp.
“Hey guys what’re yo...”
“Shhh!” Poison hissed, not even glancing over at Fun Ghoul, their newest member of their group of Killjoys. He hadn’t been with them for very long and this was the first time that Jet had done his target practice since then. Kobra did tear his eyes away from Jet’s shapely ass to look at the confused mechanic, nodding for him to stand beside them to watch.
Ghoul stood next to Kobra, turning to follow their gazes. Jet took a breath and then he started to move, running from side to side, taking shots at several of his targets. Kobra knew the logic, that rarely in a combat situation would you get the luxury of standing still. Ideally the targets would move as well, but that wasn’t something they could realistically do.
More empty tins hit the desert sand as his shots found their marks, though a few of them missed, hitting the rocks instead of heading out into the distance. These were few of course. Seven times out of ten he would hit his targets, even if the blows were only glancing. It made Kobra grateful that he was on their side.
Jet stilled, taking in a few gasps of air, letting go of the raygun to brush a hand through his hair. It was a simple enough action, but somehow it made Kobra’s heart race, his cock aching in his too-tight pants. Jet looked over his targets, at the cans that littered the floor, now with fresh holes in the metal. He seemed to be considering for a few moments, before he nodded and holstered his raygun. He crossed the distance to them, setting them back up again, bending over as he did so. Fuck.
“Does... does he do this a lot?” Ghoul whispered from beside him, his voice slightly shaky and Kobra had a feeling that yeah, he thought the same he did.
“Not often.” Kobra replied in an equally low voice, not taking his eyes off the way Jet moved. “But it’s a nice perk whenever he decides to.”
Ghoul hummed softly in a response and Kobra suspected net had more questions, but he didn’t voice them as Jet started to shoot his targets once again.
Pairing: None (but implied Kobra Kid/Jet Star, Jet Star/Party Poison)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Guys getting boners over Jet Star shooting things
Prompt: Jet Star gun
Notes: For
dreamsdare for the prompt thing last nightParty Poison and Kobra Kid we’re leaning against the back wall of the old diner that they were currently using as a hideout. Both were thankful that the sun’s angle meant that they were in the shade as it was too fucking warm. Usually they’d been inside during weather like this, resting or planning. But not today.
The reason for that was several feet away from them. There stood their fellow Killjoy, Jet Star, wearing just jeans and a t-shirt that showed off his arms. Clasped in his hands was his raygun and he was aiming at a set of targets that were set up to shoot. Some were empty cans of power pup, resting on rocks or boxes while others were Drac masks atop cactuses.
Jet adjusted his stance slightly, the sound of the dirt moving under his shoes filling the air. And then he pulled the trigger and two flashes of light flew through the air, stroking the cans and knocking them off their place on a rock, the metal clanging against the desert floor.
Kobra let out a breath that he hadn’t realised he’d been holding, shifting slightly against the wall. There was something about the way that Jet did this, something about his marksmanship and his competence that just...
Plus it didn’t hurt that Jet was looking like that, the heat of the sun making him sweat, his clothes clinging to his skin.
He knew that Poison felt the same, at least from the way he wiggled beside him, his eyes locked on him as he fired off another few shots. This time his target was a cactus and he struck it in the ‘chest’ before hitting square in the mask. The cactus’ hard skin was blackened and slightly smoking from the hits and Poison let out a soft gasp.
“Hey guys what’re yo...”
“Shhh!” Poison hissed, not even glancing over at Fun Ghoul, their newest member of their group of Killjoys. He hadn’t been with them for very long and this was the first time that Jet had done his target practice since then. Kobra did tear his eyes away from Jet’s shapely ass to look at the confused mechanic, nodding for him to stand beside them to watch.
Ghoul stood next to Kobra, turning to follow their gazes. Jet took a breath and then he started to move, running from side to side, taking shots at several of his targets. Kobra knew the logic, that rarely in a combat situation would you get the luxury of standing still. Ideally the targets would move as well, but that wasn’t something they could realistically do.
More empty tins hit the desert sand as his shots found their marks, though a few of them missed, hitting the rocks instead of heading out into the distance. These were few of course. Seven times out of ten he would hit his targets, even if the blows were only glancing. It made Kobra grateful that he was on their side.
Jet stilled, taking in a few gasps of air, letting go of the raygun to brush a hand through his hair. It was a simple enough action, but somehow it made Kobra’s heart race, his cock aching in his too-tight pants. Jet looked over his targets, at the cans that littered the floor, now with fresh holes in the metal. He seemed to be considering for a few moments, before he nodded and holstered his raygun. He crossed the distance to them, setting them back up again, bending over as he did so. Fuck.
“Does... does he do this a lot?” Ghoul whispered from beside him, his voice slightly shaky and Kobra had a feeling that yeah, he thought the same he did.
“Not often.” Kobra replied in an equally low voice, not taking his eyes off the way Jet moved. “But it’s a nice perk whenever he decides to.”
Ghoul hummed softly in a response and Kobra suspected net had more questions, but he didn’t voice them as Jet started to shoot his targets once again.
