[pornmas] day 1.
Summary: Almost 1.5K of pointless (public) sex against a car with bonus voyeurism.
Fandom/Pairings: Bandom/Killjoys; Jet Star/Kobra Kid+Fun Ghoul, background possible Party Poison/Show Pony/ Dr. D
Rating: R.
Pre-Notes: Because I kind of have a TransAm fetish and also there was a prompt on the kink meme, okay? This is clearly the best way to start off pornmas.
Disclaimer: I already said there's no sex against the TransAm in canon. I still think it's a shame.
----
Vehicle Threesome Sex.
They're waiting for Party Poison to finish whatever he needs to talk to Show Pony and Dr. Deathdefying about. Kobra Kid tries very hard not to think about what they do together. He pretends it's all broadcasts and talking music, because it's healthier for his brain that way. Fun Ghoul is sleeping in the backseat, covered by a ratty old quilt, and the girl is with Agent Cherri Cola for the moment, so Kobra Kid leans against the hood of the Trans Am and waits. Without turning, he knows that the noise of the door opening is Jet Star slipping out out the car, careful not to wake Fun Ghoul.
"Hey," Jet Star says, leaning on the Trans Am next to Kobra Kid, "no one around."
"Yeah," Kobra Kid says, "gets kinda lonely, waiting."
"We could pass the time by doing something else."
Kobra Kid turns ever so slightly to search Jet Star's face, trying to decided what Jet Star is offering. Kobra Kid can't see anything funny in Jet Star's eyes, so he lets himself lick his lips subconsciously and raise an eyebrow just the tiniest fraction.
"Lube?"
"Spit and rations."
Kobra Kid sighs because it'll have to do, and leans back further onto the hood of the Trans Am, spreading his legs enough that Jet Star can nudge between them and press their-chapped, dry, peeling-lips together. Kobra Kid makes a soft noise at that, a quiet reminder that Frank was still asleep. Jet Star pulls away, replacing his lips with two bare fingers, which Kobra Kid sucks into his mouth-they feel dry, but everything in the desert is dry so Kobra Kid runs his tongue along them. Slowly, his body remembers how to produce saliva and he can taste some of the grit on Jet Star's fingers, can taste a hint of the rations Jet Star licked off earlier. Calluses, from holding a gun and from Before, drag across Kobra Kid's tongue and Kobra Kid barely remembers how to undo the belt and pants he's wearing.
When his pants are undone, Jet Star pulls his fingers from Kobra Kid's mouth. There's a string of saliva connecting the two and Jet Star nudges Kobra Kid gently.
"Turn over."
Kobra Kid complies, and Jet Star tugs his pants down partially, not wasting too much time before pushing a finger past the ring of muscle. It's too much, except for how it isn't, because it doesn't hurt nearly as much as getting hit with a ray gun blast. To keep his mind off it, Kobra Kid focuses on Fun Ghoul's blanketed form, watching for movement and wondering how much of a phenomenally bad idea this is. Not very, Kobra Kid muses. Because if Fun Ghoul gets up, he's likely to just join in and-Jet Star twists his fingers just right and Kobra Kid's breath hitches. He's not daring enough to make noise, has trained himself like all the others to be as silent as possible. Behind him, Jet Star leans forward to whisper in his ear, adding another finger.
"You don't have to be quiet, you know. Unless you don't want Fun Ghoul to wake up."
Kobra Kid's breath hitches again, and Jet Star laughs against his neck. It's warm and comforting, something to focus one besides how much the idea of Fun Ghoul waking up turns him on.
Jet Star pulls his fingers away and Kobra Kid whines, which just makes Jet Star laugh again. Kobra Kid is going to complain, because it's totally not cool to laugh at the person you're having sex with, but then Jet Star lines up and Kobra Kid has to breathe through it. It's not as bad as it could be though and once he doesn't feel like he's going to split in half, Kobra Kid snorts.
"Liar."
"Bummed some aloe off Show Pony."
Kobra Kid laughs, a little breathless, "Please don't talk about Show Pony right now."
Experimentally, Kobra Kid shifts back and okay. Okay, yeah. Jet Star needs to start moving yesterday-he's good about taking hints, though, and with the cue from Kobra Kid, Jet Star starts a slowly easy pace.
Kobra Kid lets his eyes close, shutting out a sense and focusing on the drag of Jet Star (inoutouchoh), the way Jet Star's breath ghosts over the hairs of his neck. He plants his hands on the hood, breathing raggedly and forgetting to be quiet for a moment. He moans, a little wanton, and he feels Jet Star's laugh more than he hears it. There's something about the feel of fingers pressed into his hips and the almost too hot metal under his palms that's overwhelming enough that he doesn't notice the sound of the car door creaking, doesn't notice the footsteps until there's another hand running along is stomach.
"I love it when you're like this," Fun Ghoul's voice says into his ear, "but you guys are asses for starting without me."
Kobra Kid's eyes fly open and Fun Ghoul is hoisting himself onto the hood of the Trans Am sliding so he's in from of Kobra Kid. Without warning, Fun Ghoul tugs him forward and crushes their lips together, fingers tangling in Kobra Kid's hair.
It's always like this, Fun Ghoul demanding and Jet Star unassuming, and Kobra Kid wishes that it was safer to have something more than this. Safer to want something more than this. For the moment, though, this is okay. This is better than hypotheticals, because Fun Ghouls other hand is ghosting lower lower until fingers with calluses almost identical to Jet Star's but different enough that Kobra Kid can't mistake them for each other.
Jet Star's fingers tighten when Fun Ghoul's quicken and then every thought beyond moremorefaster deserts him. Jet Star comes first, going stiff along Kobra Kid's back and fingers holding his hips so tight that Kobra Kid knows there will be bruises. Fun Ghoul twists, and Kobra Kid bucks forward and spills all over Fun Ghoul's hand. They stay like that for a moment, merely breathing in each other, before Jet Star pulls away, and does his pants up.
Kobra Kid can feel cum dripping from his ass, and he takes a moment to wince at how awkward that's going to feel. He's dealt with worse though, so he straightens and pulls his pants back up, refastening his belt. When he's done, he raises an eyebrow at Fun Ghoul, who just grins at him. Kobra Kid rolls his eyes and reaches for Fun Ghoul's jeansbelt, undoing them deftly and pushing back the fabric and lowering his head to take him into his mouth. He doesn't fuck around or tease because he doesn't have enough energy to, instead opting to just sink down and swallow.
Fun Ghoul tightens his grip in Kobra Kid's hair but makes no noise. It's a little weird, because Fun Ghoul is usually the loudest out of them, so Kobra Kid looks up and laughs around Fun Ghoul because Jet Star and Fun Ghoul are kissing like that's the only way they'll be able to breathe.
Fun Ghoul groans into the kiss, though, and Kobra Kid hums from his position, settling a faster pace than he normal would because Fun Ghoul was kind of a sucker for kisses. Kobra Kid couldn't blame him, really, especially because Jet Star and kissing was pretty much all Kobra Kid ever wanted in life. It was best to keep wants simple in this new world, really, and if Kobra Kid flicks his tongue over the head of Fun Ghoul's cock (which he knows is a damned dirty trick), well.
He can't really be blamed for that, can he? He can't be blamed for liking the way Fun Ghoul's fingers tighten when he comes, can't be blamed for liking the way that he tastes. Pulling off, Kobra Kid licks his lips and nudges Jet Star out of the way to kiss Fun Ghoul-who licks his way into Kobra Kid's mouth and life is pretty damn awesome. Which, of course, is why Party Poison chooses that moment to clear his throat. Reluctantly, Kobra Kid pulls away from Fun Ghoul and raises an eyebrow at his brother.
"Done already?"
"Yeah," Party Poison nods, "fix your pants, Fun Ghoul, then we're outta here."
Fun Ghoul grumbles about that, but Jet Star kisses him again, and Fun Ghoul doesn't really have any fight in him after that. Kobra Kid allows himself to laugh and thinks that life? Life is pretty good.
----
Postit-Notes: Happy December. It's 5AM, I'm going to go to sleep now.
(ps: if you're late to the party/just want more porn, go check out the pornmas advent calendar/masterlist.)
This entry originally posted here. Original entry currently has
comments. :D
Fandom/Pairings: Bandom/Killjoys; Jet Star/Kobra Kid+Fun Ghoul, background possible Party Poison/Show Pony/ Dr. D
Rating: R.
Pre-Notes: Because I kind of have a TransAm fetish and also there was a prompt on the kink meme, okay? This is clearly the best way to start off pornmas.
Disclaimer: I already said there's no sex against the TransAm in canon. I still think it's a shame.
----
Vehicle Threesome Sex.
They're waiting for Party Poison to finish whatever he needs to talk to Show Pony and Dr. Deathdefying about. Kobra Kid tries very hard not to think about what they do together. He pretends it's all broadcasts and talking music, because it's healthier for his brain that way. Fun Ghoul is sleeping in the backseat, covered by a ratty old quilt, and the girl is with Agent Cherri Cola for the moment, so Kobra Kid leans against the hood of the Trans Am and waits. Without turning, he knows that the noise of the door opening is Jet Star slipping out out the car, careful not to wake Fun Ghoul.
"Hey," Jet Star says, leaning on the Trans Am next to Kobra Kid, "no one around."
"Yeah," Kobra Kid says, "gets kinda lonely, waiting."
"We could pass the time by doing something else."
Kobra Kid turns ever so slightly to search Jet Star's face, trying to decided what Jet Star is offering. Kobra Kid can't see anything funny in Jet Star's eyes, so he lets himself lick his lips subconsciously and raise an eyebrow just the tiniest fraction.
"Lube?"
"Spit and rations."
Kobra Kid sighs because it'll have to do, and leans back further onto the hood of the Trans Am, spreading his legs enough that Jet Star can nudge between them and press their-chapped, dry, peeling-lips together. Kobra Kid makes a soft noise at that, a quiet reminder that Frank was still asleep. Jet Star pulls away, replacing his lips with two bare fingers, which Kobra Kid sucks into his mouth-they feel dry, but everything in the desert is dry so Kobra Kid runs his tongue along them. Slowly, his body remembers how to produce saliva and he can taste some of the grit on Jet Star's fingers, can taste a hint of the rations Jet Star licked off earlier. Calluses, from holding a gun and from Before, drag across Kobra Kid's tongue and Kobra Kid barely remembers how to undo the belt and pants he's wearing.
When his pants are undone, Jet Star pulls his fingers from Kobra Kid's mouth. There's a string of saliva connecting the two and Jet Star nudges Kobra Kid gently.
"Turn over."
Kobra Kid complies, and Jet Star tugs his pants down partially, not wasting too much time before pushing a finger past the ring of muscle. It's too much, except for how it isn't, because it doesn't hurt nearly as much as getting hit with a ray gun blast. To keep his mind off it, Kobra Kid focuses on Fun Ghoul's blanketed form, watching for movement and wondering how much of a phenomenally bad idea this is. Not very, Kobra Kid muses. Because if Fun Ghoul gets up, he's likely to just join in and-Jet Star twists his fingers just right and Kobra Kid's breath hitches. He's not daring enough to make noise, has trained himself like all the others to be as silent as possible. Behind him, Jet Star leans forward to whisper in his ear, adding another finger.
"You don't have to be quiet, you know. Unless you don't want Fun Ghoul to wake up."
Kobra Kid's breath hitches again, and Jet Star laughs against his neck. It's warm and comforting, something to focus one besides how much the idea of Fun Ghoul waking up turns him on.
Jet Star pulls his fingers away and Kobra Kid whines, which just makes Jet Star laugh again. Kobra Kid is going to complain, because it's totally not cool to laugh at the person you're having sex with, but then Jet Star lines up and Kobra Kid has to breathe through it. It's not as bad as it could be though and once he doesn't feel like he's going to split in half, Kobra Kid snorts.
"Liar."
"Bummed some aloe off Show Pony."
Kobra Kid laughs, a little breathless, "Please don't talk about Show Pony right now."
Experimentally, Kobra Kid shifts back and okay. Okay, yeah. Jet Star needs to start moving yesterday-he's good about taking hints, though, and with the cue from Kobra Kid, Jet Star starts a slowly easy pace.
Kobra Kid lets his eyes close, shutting out a sense and focusing on the drag of Jet Star (inoutouchoh), the way Jet Star's breath ghosts over the hairs of his neck. He plants his hands on the hood, breathing raggedly and forgetting to be quiet for a moment. He moans, a little wanton, and he feels Jet Star's laugh more than he hears it. There's something about the feel of fingers pressed into his hips and the almost too hot metal under his palms that's overwhelming enough that he doesn't notice the sound of the car door creaking, doesn't notice the footsteps until there's another hand running along is stomach.
"I love it when you're like this," Fun Ghoul's voice says into his ear, "but you guys are asses for starting without me."
Kobra Kid's eyes fly open and Fun Ghoul is hoisting himself onto the hood of the Trans Am sliding so he's in from of Kobra Kid. Without warning, Fun Ghoul tugs him forward and crushes their lips together, fingers tangling in Kobra Kid's hair.
It's always like this, Fun Ghoul demanding and Jet Star unassuming, and Kobra Kid wishes that it was safer to have something more than this. Safer to want something more than this. For the moment, though, this is okay. This is better than hypotheticals, because Fun Ghouls other hand is ghosting lower lower until fingers with calluses almost identical to Jet Star's but different enough that Kobra Kid can't mistake them for each other.
Jet Star's fingers tighten when Fun Ghoul's quicken and then every thought beyond moremorefaster deserts him. Jet Star comes first, going stiff along Kobra Kid's back and fingers holding his hips so tight that Kobra Kid knows there will be bruises. Fun Ghoul twists, and Kobra Kid bucks forward and spills all over Fun Ghoul's hand. They stay like that for a moment, merely breathing in each other, before Jet Star pulls away, and does his pants up.
Kobra Kid can feel cum dripping from his ass, and he takes a moment to wince at how awkward that's going to feel. He's dealt with worse though, so he straightens and pulls his pants back up, refastening his belt. When he's done, he raises an eyebrow at Fun Ghoul, who just grins at him. Kobra Kid rolls his eyes and reaches for Fun Ghoul's jeansbelt, undoing them deftly and pushing back the fabric and lowering his head to take him into his mouth. He doesn't fuck around or tease because he doesn't have enough energy to, instead opting to just sink down and swallow.
Fun Ghoul tightens his grip in Kobra Kid's hair but makes no noise. It's a little weird, because Fun Ghoul is usually the loudest out of them, so Kobra Kid looks up and laughs around Fun Ghoul because Jet Star and Fun Ghoul are kissing like that's the only way they'll be able to breathe.
Fun Ghoul groans into the kiss, though, and Kobra Kid hums from his position, settling a faster pace than he normal would because Fun Ghoul was kind of a sucker for kisses. Kobra Kid couldn't blame him, really, especially because Jet Star and kissing was pretty much all Kobra Kid ever wanted in life. It was best to keep wants simple in this new world, really, and if Kobra Kid flicks his tongue over the head of Fun Ghoul's cock (which he knows is a damned dirty trick), well.
He can't really be blamed for that, can he? He can't be blamed for liking the way Fun Ghoul's fingers tighten when he comes, can't be blamed for liking the way that he tastes. Pulling off, Kobra Kid licks his lips and nudges Jet Star out of the way to kiss Fun Ghoul-who licks his way into Kobra Kid's mouth and life is pretty damn awesome. Which, of course, is why Party Poison chooses that moment to clear his throat. Reluctantly, Kobra Kid pulls away from Fun Ghoul and raises an eyebrow at his brother.
"Done already?"
"Yeah," Party Poison nods, "fix your pants, Fun Ghoul, then we're outta here."
Fun Ghoul grumbles about that, but Jet Star kisses him again, and Fun Ghoul doesn't really have any fight in him after that. Kobra Kid allows himself to laugh and thinks that life? Life is pretty good.
----
Postit-Notes: Happy December. It's 5AM, I'm going to go to sleep now.
(ps: if you're late to the party/just want more porn, go check out the pornmas advent calendar/masterlist.)
This entry originally posted here. Original entry currently has
comments. :D