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Blackjack hung his gun up on the rack as he entered the ship, brushing dirt out of one of his ears while marching into the common room. Rocket wasn’t far behind, leaning against the wall in a tired, lazy fashion as he kicked his shoes off, also returning his gun to the rack beside Blackjack’s.
The job had gone well; three well-known thugs in the area had been given over to the Nova Corp for a sizable unit bonus having them brought back alive. Money, admittedly, had been tight the last few months. While this period of relative “peace in the galaxy” had been welcoming news to some, it was an unmitigated financial nightmare for Blackjack and his partner.
This job, however, put them back into financial stability for the time being. More than that even, they had a rare opportunity where there was money to burn.
"One of these days I’m gonna get a krutacking helmet that covers my ears, so when people hop a lift to get away, I don’t get dirt everywhere when they drag me,” Blackjack muttered to himself.
Rocket chuckled and casually tossed the Units they had earned from his punches onto the table. “Don’t ya dip inta my half if yer going to be spendin' recklessly on shit like ear armor,” he said as he fell back onto the couch. Rocket, unlike Blackjack, preferred to spend his units wisely, like on gambling, bullets, betting, and booze–you know, necessities.
”And deprive you of your alcoholism and gambling addictions?" Blackjack responded with mock horror, taking off his gloves and framing his mouth with his paws before breaking into a smile. "Wouldn’t dream of it Rocky."
He marched over to the fridge and grabbed an ale, tossing it into the couch next to the raccoon before grabbing his own and flopping on the couch. “That being said, we’ve got a lot leftover, even after restocking and fueling up the ship.”
Rocket let out an unimpressed grunt at the rabbit, taking his ale and cracking it open. It foamed a little over his paws and black, fingerless gloves. “Yeah, havin' some units to spare is a weird feelin,” he said in monotone. Then, he perked his ears and turned to face Blackjack. “Ya know, we’ve not been able to enjoy ourselves much in a while. Why don’t we put ‘em units together, so we can afford somethin' other than rubbish an’ leftovers?”
The hare smirked. “I’m about to be sold on how that plasma cannon–the size of one of the ones on our ship, like the trader had back on Rylex–is gonna help us have ‘an easier and more fulfilling workday again, aren’t I?” He paused after turning to face Rocket, his shit-eating grin softening slightly when he thought about how plainly the coon had brought this up. “Or did you mean we should head off the ship to do something?”
"I’m guessin' yer no closer to buying it since our last talk?" Rocket sighed. He really wanted that cannon, which ironically happened to be sitting in one of their smuggling compartments until his birthday rolled around, thanks to Blackjack.
“Heh, y’know what’d be nice? How’s about you and me go on what people call a date? Feels like it’s been a while since we ate good; if I gotta eat any more instant meals, my insides are gunna rust,” he insisted.
Blackjack took a deep swig of ale and laughed as he flopped his head into Rocket’s lap, propping his legs over the arm of the couch. “A good meal and attractive accompaniment eh? That’s a good offer.”
“Ya would be a damned fool to turn it down,” Rocket said with a grin of his own. He looked down at O’hare, leaning over the rabbit’s nose and straightening out his slightly bent whiskers with his fingers.
“Mmm…What did you have in mind, Rocky?”
"I was thinking somewhere with a private booth…Ya’ know, where we won’t have ta' deal with the morons of the world.”
Blackjack’s foot twitched a moment against the couch when his whiskers were touched. “Sounds like I’m gonna have to look respectable for this.” He straightened his ragged bandana and futilely tried to release dirt from his clothes, still grinning ear to ear.
”I don’t mind a little dirt on ya,” Rocket said, pointing to the dirt on his own fur.
“God knows you have plenty more where that came from.” Blackjack suddenly hopped to his feet. “What are we waiting for? Let’s get some coordinates punched in and get this show on the road!”
Rocket got up after him and made his way to the cock pit. “What's a good planet for fine dinnin'?" he asked as he began hitting buttons, starting up the ship’s engines.
”How about Ardolis? They had that one place with a lots of food and a wall of liquor to put most of the dumps we visit to shame,” the hare offered as he cracked his back and sat down in the cockpit. “And as a bonus we haven’t pissed off the d’ast locals on a job yet.”
”Wall of liquor huh? How long were ya planning on keeping this place from me?" he asked, trying not looking impressed. However, his ears were a dead giveaway, perking up in his excitement as he punched in their destination.
"Not until we had the units to empty a sizable amount of it." Blackjack winked at him and padded out of the cockpit to pry off his helmet and the rest of his dirty armor. Just a shirt and shorts sounded much more comfortable and appealing. "How long of a jump, Rocky?" Blackjack called out.
”7.5,” he said, still fiddling with the dials on the ship. "We will be there soon.” But not too soon, Rocket thought, giving them some time to relax. Then, with the ship on a steady path, Rocket returned to the common area and saw Blackjack in his laid-back attire, his fur a little roughed and messy from the day. Rocket was sure his didn’t look any better, however.
Blackjack snapped his eyepatch over his bad eye and peered up at Rocket from where he was laying on the bunk, cleaning out one of his guns. "See something ya like Rock?" He gave a toothy grin.
”Was just admiring how cozy ya looked,” he said. "Mind if I join ya?" he smirked, humored by the fact that he even asked. The raccoon crawled onto the bunk, nuzzling his snout under Blackjack’s chin.
The hare wiggled slightly to get comfortable under Rocket, the coon’s legs straddling his torso. “Mmm, I’ll have to remember that extra money puts you in an affectionate mood.” He reached a paw up and rubbed his fingers behind the raccoon’s ears, eliciting a low rumble from the back of the coon’s throat.
To Blackjack, Rocket was a comfort to be close to, always smelling of sweat, dirt, and fuel. Even after becoming more than business partners and friends awhile back, the rare open affection always surprised the hare, but he always tried to act as if it were completely natural when it did happen. This occasion was no different, as he let his paw wander down the back of Rocket’s shirt, pulling him closer.
Rocket didn’t complain about Blackjack’s touch. Had it been anyone else, he would have received a good clawing for messing with his back, but he felt secure around Blackjack, enough to let him touch the implants if he so wanted. However, somedays he wouldn’t let him.
"Hey, this was the first time in a month we haven’t been lookin' for our next meal. I think at least some affection is due,” he said, kissing Jack’s top lip, his hands running over his blue-furred neck and the shirt fabric on his chest.
"-Nnh- Rockyboy, I wouldn’t even mind if ya upgraded that to touching me a lot,” his smug demeanor trying to return, but it just sounded like pleased whining.
Rocket grinned; he always loved making the bunny flustered. “Alright, since ya asked so nicely.” His hands ran up the rabbit’s sides, up his loose fitting shirt to feel the other’s softer fur against his paws. Rocket purred as he scooted up Blackjack’s body, kissing and gently biting his ear.
The hare’s breathing slowly began deepening under the onslaught of affection. Nobody in this galaxy or probably in the next one over was allowed to touch his ears without suffering an inconvenient gunshot wound except for the one doing it now. “Flark, Rocky,” he whispered.
Rocket felt gentle paws drag up his torso and tug at his shirt, allowing the raccoon to lift it up and over his head.
Blackjack regained his composure for enough time to grin. “It’ll be easier for all that touching to happen if we lose the clothes, I reckon,” he said as casually as he could before leaning into Rocket to nip at his neck.
"I think you have a point.” Rocket grinned, as he unbuckled his own pants, hips rocking slightly out of a growing need. He was just about to unzip himself before his sultry gaze turned to the direction of a beeping sound, his ears perking up. They had arrived at their destination, both to Rocket’s pleasure and disappointment.
Jack’s ears perked up as well at the ding, and his whole face lit up with excitement. “Time for some grub, Rocky.” He wriggled his legs free and slung his shirt and gun belt on, seemingly oblivious to everything that was just happening. The prospect of frustrating the coon tonight made up for his own arousal.
”Hmph!" Rocket let out an unimpressed grunt as he stayed on the bed, crossing his legs and sighing at his sudden neglect. However, the night was still young, he had little doubt that nothing would be able to stop their eventual bedding. He stood up, scratching his stomach before grabbing a clean shirt to replace the old one he had worn earlier. He slipped on a pair of pants and went to the cockpit to begin landing procedures, cursing that repetitive warning beep and blaming it on how flustered he was.
Blackjack stepped into the cockpit and feverishly rubbed his hands together, looking a little more groomed than he had all day. “Ready to go for some wining and dining, Rocky?” He sat in the co-pilot’s chair and spun around, flashing his most obnoxious grin.
Rocket glanced at the rabbit, who had cleaned up well. However, the coon never let his expression shift from a blank, unimpressed stare. He turned to look out at the docks they were parking on and said, “Oh, I’ve been ready.” Once the ship was parked, he tossed the units into his pouches which usually held only bullets. They both left the ship and headed down the dusty path to the bar.
***
Outside, there was a gruff-looking kree bouncer out front, whose paunch made his biker outfit look more like a costume than anything else.
"No animals in tha’ bar,” he said flatly, not even looking down from his datapad.
Blackjack’s smile didn’t falter an instant as he heard Rocket’s growl behind him. He tossed twenty units onto his datapad and spoke over the hum of his gun charging, "Animals with units. Which is quite th’ distinction. Private booth still open friend?” His voice smooth as Xandarian silk.
The bouncer let out an almost imperceptible scoff as he pocketed the units and finally looked down.
"Oh….it’s you." The out-of-shape Kree rolled his eyes and hit a few things on his datapad. "Yah it’s in th’ back. Don’t cause any trouble, or we’re gonna have problems.
Jack smiled wide. “When have I ever? Let’s go Rock.”
They walked by the wall of booze, Rocket’s eyes going wide and mouth drooling out of amazement. They continued into the back room where the Kree instructed, picking up the menu of drink items. “Now what’ll get me hammered quick?” he murmured to himself, eyes going to the alcoholic content of the drinks before anything else.
Blackjack was scoping out the food menu with particular relish. “I thought that had gone extinct! Well, maybe it has now, but…” he trailed off, almost drooling at the many ways to gorge himself.
He looked up at Rocket, hidden behind the large menu so he could only see his claws holding it, and slid up right next to him, lightly smushing his tail into his side. “So what are we getting hammered with today buddy?”
”I Don’t know about you Jack, but I’m getting the Kree brand, I like the drinks with high death rates,” he grinned. It was well known that Kree brands were stronger, as they considered high alcohol poisoning rates to be a good thing.
Once his order was decided, Rocket put the menu down; he could finally give his rabbit some well-deserved attention. His hands wandered down the back of Blackjack’s shirt to his pants, playing with the tiny poof of fluff that he called a tail. “Anythin’ good on the menu? Or should I fill up on drinks instead?” He kissed at Jack’s neck.
"-HRK-" Blackjack made a squeaky wincing noise when he felt the paw run through his tail, despite his best efforts.
"Yeah there’s roast sakaarian pit beast. I’m looking forward to that,” he said matter-of-factly. He regained his composure almost instantly, until shooting Rocket a mischievous glare when he felt the kiss on his neck.
"So that’s how it’s gonna be eh?" the hare spoke with quiet, but obvious glee, stretching out and leaning firmly against the coon’s tail and letting his paw land on Rocket’s thigh.
”Yeah…It’s gonna be that way allll night,” Rocket purred, his pent-up energy coming back as if it never left. He kept his body close to Jack’s and opened his legs, giving Blackjack access to whatever his hands were searching for. "You know…these seats are pretty low…I could use a boost,” he said, kissing the other again.
Rocket’s ears twitched in alarm as he heard footsteps come up to the curtain, “Auugh,” he groaned at another lost opportunity. The coon leaped back to his seat, fur standing on end as he stared at the booth’s entrance with an annoyed look. The waiter walked in with an amicable expression on her face–that is–until she saw the annoyed look on Rocket the cock-blocked Raccoon’s face. “Gentle-uh-men, are we ready to order?”
"Two Kree whiskeys, a Shiar Throat Blaster, some tentacle bites and a roast,” he replied quickly, smiling serenely, eyes watching the waiter jot the order down and leave.
Jack snickered. ”Heh, haven’t seen you poof up like that in ages,” he said as he closed the distance between them with a slide, ending right next to Rocket and brushing up against his frustrated fur with a smirk.
Blackjack’s smirk was the perfect distraction as he grabbed Rocket right at the source of his frustration. "You seem tense Rockyboy," he gave him a playful squeeze. "The drinks will be here soon, y’know."
Rocket grunted as he was groped, pleased by the feeling that shot through him. “Hrrm…then you better hurry up. I swear I got a bullet with the name of the next person who walks in,” he snarled, his paws clenching into fists on the table. Rocket spread his knees once again. “Take care of me. I’ll repay the favor,” he purred.
Blackjack barely looked down at Rocket as he used his dextrous fingers to unzip Rocket, much to the coon’s relief. "Public hand-jobs every time we make a mint? Rocket Raccoon’s living the dream,” Blackjack teased, speaking dramatically to nobody in particular as he pumped the coon’s length in his paw, already pulsing, and soaked in precum from an entire day’s worth of teasing.
”You’d think with such easy criteria I’d be gettin' them more often,” he said mimicking the rabbit’s tone. Rocket’s fingers squeezed into fists as he arched his back, humping against Jack’s ministrations.
Jack smiled slyly at his partner’s desperation. ”What does Rocky want?" He posed the question as innocently as possible for somebody using a tone of voice that practically shouted, ‘I’m gonna make you beg for it.’
"Mmm, uhh…" Rocket moaned gently as his erection was teased and pampered. "I want you to quit talkin' and put that mouth to better use,” he said, challenging the other’s power play.
”Do ya now?" Blackjack stopped pumping and ran a pawtip over Rocket’s erection in a slow circle, as if he were mulling it over in his head. However, his ears gave the slightest twitch as he heard what was probably their meal headed towards their booth from the kitchen, and his mouth spread into a vicious grin. “Better use indeed.”
Blackjack slipped under the table with a whoosh and popped his head up between the coon’s legs, grabbing both of his thighs and pulling him forward with a jerk so he could better get at his prize. He could feel Rocket’s whole body shudder as he took him in his mouth all the way to the hilt, letting his buck teeth run gingerly up his length on the return trip.
Rocket would have heard the waiter coming as Blackjack did, but he was too focused on the bunny himself to notice. He let out a light moan as his cock was engulfed by Blackjack’s warm mouth, but he quickly stifled himself as the waited walked in.
She looked at Rocket with surprise. “Wasn’t there another one of you in here?” she said with a cocked brow. Rocket tried keeping his cool, squeezing his thighs against Blackjack’s head in hopes that he would stop. “Uuurhm—yeah, he’s in the washroom, gettin-hnn washed,” Rocket said, struggling to keep his breathing managed as this point.
The lady began putting the trays down “Ahh—” She seemed satisfied with the answer. “I’ve never seen a duo quite like yourselves. What galaxy are you from?”
Rocket grunted from the pleasure, jerking a bit as he put one hand under the table, pulling at one of Blackjack’s ears. The waiter mistook the grunt as offensive, but Rocket could barely care at this point. “Yeah..sure.” He looked at her blankly, an awkward pause filling the air. “I mean…ahhh, t-this one.” He cleared his throat, sweating a bit as his pupils dilated. “I’m—were from here, yeah…uh…nnn…”
The waiter looked weirder out, though she probably was accustomed to dealing with some freaks in her time. It wasn’t long before she set down the drinks and left the booth. Rocket grit his teeth in frustration as he let Blackjack work him towards orgasm.
For Blackjack, it had taken most–no–all of his willpower not to laugh during that conversation. Hearing Rocket that flustered and vulnerable was a rare gift, indeed. However, now that they were alone, he worked furiously, rubbing his nose against the tiny amount of scruff. He felt a desperate paw grab his head fur, keeping him locked on the coon’s twitching member. Blackjack heard a small whine come from his partner, followed by a shaking in his hips and a healthy release of coon spunk. Jack moaned in spite of himself, greedily taking each spurt without hesitation.
The hare, in this particular situation, noted a few valuable facts: Rocket came a lot when he was flustered, the sound of him wincing in pleasure through gritted teeth was probably the most arousing thing he had ever heard, and the roast smelled flarking delicious.
Blackjack licked his sticky lips as he reemerged from below the table. “That was a lovely appetizer! I’m so lucky to have somebody so willing to share.” His smartass grin looked like it was now a permanent fixture on his face, as he took a sip of the Kree brand.
Rocket hunched over the table, panting out in heavy, unencumbered breaths as he finally had no reason to hide them now. “Y-yer just luckily I didn’t kick out your eye with a stunt like that,” he said in a low growl. He reached over to take his own drink, throwing his head back to take a big gulp.
The hare’s grin visibly shrunk at that eye comment, but he let it slide in silence for now, opting to down his first drink in a suitably unhealthy pace. His spirit improved, however, as he took a bite of the roast, which was everything he hoped it would be. After devouring a large portion of it, he slid the roast over to Rocket, wanting to work on his tentacle bites, as well as see if that throat blaster lived up to it’s name.
Rocket opted to start with alcohol. He was feeling pretty low after that painfully awkward incident, but he was still secretly thankful for the orgasm. After a few minutes of drooling at the smell and sight of the roast, he looked back to his glass, finding it empty. Had he drank it already? He didn’t even remember–a definite indication of himself slowly getting hammered. Rocket cut up the beast offered to him into small bits, eating them by stabbing the slices and tearing at the chewy meat with his teeth until they ripped into smaller chunks. Being intoxicated made it taste amazing, not that it wasn’t satisfying to begin with. The raccoon gave a hint of a smile, his mood brightening after the tense moment between the two.
He got up from his chair, nudging Blackjack over to share a seat, forehead coming close to the hare’s. “Enjoyin’ ooour date?” he slurred.
Jack grinned, having downed his entire complement of drinks and kissed Rocket’s nose. His voice immediately revealing how hammered he was. “Cors’ I am Rocky! We so’rearly leave th’ ship fer pleasurr that duzzn’t involve killin’ people.”
The hare lifted Rocket up onto his lap, enjoying the warmth and weight on his lap, still using his forehead for balance, before leaning back into his chair, thoroughly relaxed.
Rocket wiggled and put his arms around O’hares neck, tail swaying happily back and fourth. “MMhm, les do this more oftehn huh?” He grabbed the uneaten plate of tentacle bites, holding one out for his boyfriend. “Trhy,” he insisted.
Blackjack leaned forward and snapped up the food in his teeth. “Yer too kind Rucky. If we’re always this succe-sucksesfu—always flush wit’ units. We shoold do this all the time.”
“We’ve been tryin, I thin avin units ish just not in teh game plan fer us,” he said with a teased grin. "An—an how many bars er gunna let us in anyway? I mean wit our records.” He nuzzled his chin into Blackjack. “..’ow long ‘till we’re kicked outta this one?"
“Heh…soohn I recon.” The hare popped his helmet off and nuzzled into Rocket’s neck, planting sloppy kisses up it. "Mhh…luff ya,” he spoke into the fluff, entirely too comfortable. It was a rare occasion to hear him say the words, even muffled.
Rocket’s ears perked. “Heh, I know ya do,” he said, trying to hide his giddy excitement behind a wall of indifference. “I love yer too, I guess.” Rocket put his paw under Blackjack’s chin, tilting it up and leaving a gentle kiss on his bad eye. Blackjack flinched slightly. “S-sorreh bout teh eye comment erleher,” he apologized–a rare thing for the raccoon to do. “I wouldn’t kick yer eye outh, shooth ya maybe,” he joked.
“Don’ wury ‘bout it. Shouln’ta called ya a raccoon.” He couldn’t help but let out a gentle moan as he brought Rocket closer to him, his whole body tingling with affection and booze. He could stand to have every night end up like this, a full stomach, a screaming buzz, and an adorably affectionate Rocky.
The hare moaned a bit louder when Rocket let his hands wander below the threshold of the table, teasing Jack’s rod through the fabric of his suit. He grinned playfully.
"Kicked outta dis one? And here I thawt y’were gonna repay me back on th’ ship.” Jack’s grin crept back over his face as well, leaning into Rocket’s touches.
”Hehe, why wait,” he cooed. "New location…t-threath of gettin caught, migh be fun.” He rocked his hips over Blackjack, grinding himself against the other’s stomach. "Les make good of the mood in ‘ere huh?" Rocket licked his lips before kissing Blackjack sloppily on the mouth, tasting the alcohol on the other’s breath…or maybe it was his own?
Blackjack was caught off guard by the kiss, but quickly returned it with passionately. He lay back in the booth with Rocket on top of him, feeling the raging amount of tension that had been building since back on the ship. Jack was better at hiding how he felt in most situations, but alcohol was severely limiting that ability at this point.
He reached down and unzipped himself, breaking the kiss and letting his hot breath spill over Rocket. “-Hhhf- Well when you put it lik’ that, who am I to sstop ya’?”
Rocket wiggled his tail, keeping his legs spread over Blackjack like a bridge. He ran his hand up the others shirt, rubbing his blue fur gently as he rose his upper half, putting himself in a sitting position. “‘Aight Jack, I’mma make sure ya get what ya deserve ‘ere.” He reached behind himself, rubbing the hare’s long member with a single teasing finger. “Don’ worry, you’ll enjoy it.” With that, the coon lowered his hips until he felt Blackjack against his tail hole. He pushed in very slowly, playing with the other’s patience.
Jack let out a shuddery growl at the coon’s touch, his eyes comfortably closing for the moment, thoughts overwhelmed by the alcohol and tension in his groin. Normally he’d take control at some point, but he was more than happy to let ‘the rocket ride him’ in a nice inversion of his partner’s least favorite joke.
“‘Ave I ever not?” Jack said with a blissful grin, bucking his hips into Rocket playfully.
Rocket grinned, his body shivering. Soon, his own length was at full-mast for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. “Awwwh, mmm!” Rocket bounced up and down the rabbit’s lap, letting out a shaky breath as he felt Jack brush against his prostate, causing him to clench hard. Rocket licked the other’s neck a few times, wetting the fur there before biting down in true animalistic fashion.
Blackjack knew they were going to get caught at some point, but somehow that didn’t seem all that important, especially when he felt Rocket bite his neck and clench around his member. He reacted with a sharp, stuttery groan, claws running down Rocket’s back, and his hips bucking into him.
"-HRNGR- RRrr…ahhm…t-that’s guhd." Jack said as he cupped his paws around the coon’s hips and started to guide his thrusts, ready to let himself go into Rocket any moment now.
The raccoon gladly yielded a little control to Blackjack to guide his thrusts. “Huuugh!” he moaned, smiling wildly between nips and bites, leaving teeth marks in the hare’s skin and then kissing the wound to make it better.
"Mmmrffh, Blackjack!" he cried, hands grabbing at the blue fur as he felt himself near his own release. Between frantic moans and pants cried out, ”Gahhr—ahhii-almost t-there J-jack!"
Blackjack was slightly ahead of Rocket, feeling the electric tension in his core finally begin to burst. His legs shook and bounced the animal on top of him until finally he reached his climax, shooting spurts into his clenching tunnel. The hare let out a long relaxed chittery purr, not even bothering to conceal it. “R-rock’ I -chirrrrrrrr-”
The raccoon felt a pleasurable warmth fill his abdomen as Blackjack finished. Very soon afterward his whole body shook, his own length pulsing and shooting ropes onto Jack’s stomach fur. He growled and moaned, continuing to bite on Jack’s quivering neck, but his thoughts were interrupted when he heard a loud feminine scream.
Their eyes both shot open abruptly to the sight of their waitress, a horrified look scrawled over her face. She quickly fled the booth.
Rocket climbed off his mate and quickly went to retrieve his pants, but more importantly the holster with his guns. The first thing he did was cock his weapon before stepping into his pant legs. Blackjack did the same, flipping the charger on his gun before zipping himself back up and fixing his shirt.
From behind the door Rocket peered out to analyze the commotion. To his disgust he saw the large Kree guard from the door walking their way, along with their waiter–who seemed to be talking his ear off about the disgusting and unnatural thing she had witnessed. Rocket shut the door again and said, “We got five seconds, Jack.”
”15%’s prolly fine eh?" Jack said as he doodled his signature on the check he picked up off the ground, idly stuffing the remaining tentacle bites in his other pocket. He’d be damned if he didn’t get to keep his leftovers.
There was an audible beep as his gun hit maximum potency and jack poured the remaining small amounts of liquor from their glasses into his and pounded it down, turning around just in time for the Kree to burst into the booth and be met with a gun to the side of his head from Rocket, and one pointed square at his face from Jack.
"I’ve gota fank you for the wonderfuhl meel, and service, but et’s hardly neccessary fer ye’ to walk us out." O’hare dramatically gestured at the Kree, exaggerating his drunkenness, so he wouldn’t be taken seriously.
The Kree would have none of the perverted drunks’ antics and reached for his blaster anyway, severely underestimating the Half-Worlders’ weapon potency. Jack and Rock quickly blasted the guard into the booth with two stun shots, enough to keep him out for at least the rest of the day.
The bar seemed to erupt in a circus of violence the instant the Kree hit the ground, some of the seedier visitors seeing this as the perfect opportunity to raise some hell, with the sole guard out of commission. Jack and Rocket easily scurried through the carnage, firing off a few stun blasts into the crowd for good measure before making it out the door.
After a good bit of running and a good bit of hysterical laughter, they finally reached the ship. Jack punched in the launch sequence and headed back to the common area, tossing his guns on the table, trying his damnedest to stop laughing.
"That’s the 17th bar we’re never gonna get to return to Rocky. -snrk- It’s a real shame too, those tentacle bites were to die for." The hare burst into another fit of laughter on his way past the raccoon to his bunk.
“Maybe they won’t recognize us if we go back,” he clearly joked with a grin.
Rocket watched Blackjack retire his room and figured now more than ever would be a good time to get comfortable. He slouched onto the couch, removing his belt, shirt, and pants. He brushed his hand up his neck, messing up his fur a bit. Slowly, he padded over to their dresser where Jack was slipping into some baggy black sweat shorts and a grey sweater. He stared at Blackjack, his grin still present but bags under his eyes. “Don’t tell me your tired?” he teased. “Has it been a long day for Jacky-boy?”
The hare looked at the raccoon and chuckled. “Mebbe, Rocky-poo.” He crawled into bed after him, bringing the coon close and intertwining his legs. The gentle rhythm of each’s heartbeats did a good job at lulling both into a deeper state of consciousness.
“-Mmhhrr- I love you Rocket” he smiled warmly and tugged the blanket over them both, ready for another day of hunting and relaxing with his partner.
THE END