Target Practice

by Gabriel O'Ryan

Title:Target Practice
Author:Gabriel O'Ryan
Pairing:Kyle/Connor (Green Lantern/Green Arrow)
Rating:Dunno. PG?


"Annnnd- -release."

I open my fingers, and a luminous green arrow speeds towards the target I hung in the sky. It hits the outer-most ring, but it hits. Connor looks thoughtful for a moment, then reaches around a hand on either side of me, moves my left elbow up a little, and corrects my grip on the bow. Which is getting pretty tight right about now.

Connor smells like a combination of Sandalwood, leather, and 'Irish Spring'.

He also, for WHATEVER reason, has his arms around me, and his lips two inches from my ear. This sets my imagination reeling.

As usual, Connor doesn't show any sign of having noticed. Either I'm a better actor than I think I am, or those monks did something irreversible.

God forbid.

I conjure another arrow, and fit it to the string.


He didn't get it.


Perhaps I'm asking an apple to be an orange.

Still, something is bothering him, and whatever else might be said, we are friends.

I will to ask.

"Kyle, you seem to have a lot on your mind tonight."

"Not so's I'd notice." he shrugs me off. Kyle begins to turn his head to add a smile to the ruse, but stops halfway there, and I realize that I am still nearly... wrapped... around... Uh-oh.

I release him, and try not to look guilty.

"*I* noticed." I tell him. Maybe if I can keep the conversation on track, he won't have time to think about what just happened. But he doesn't say anything at first, and his eyes are brown-flecked shadow, and I can't look away.

"You did." he says carefully, as if he wants to hear how the words sound in combination. Then more confidently, "You DID notice!" And he seizes my head in both hands and kisses me on the mouth.



Connor. Is. Mine.

You know all those clichés about 'the kiss'? Believe 'em. I'm drowning, and I'm taking him down with me. Connor's lips shade from an impossibility of smoothness at the center, out to meet the sandy texture of his cheek.

And they're warm. Cool at first, from the wind up on this rooftop, but a second or two of contact, and *I'm* the one who's shivering. This is CONNOR I'm kissing, and I am gone.

He noticed, he noticed, he noticed, he noticed, he- -might have been talking about something else? He isn't exactly responding to this...

Oh sh-

I pull away, but thankfully his expression looks as bereft and anxious as mine must, and he asks,

"Wh-? Did I-" -Connor thinks HE did something wrong.

I kiss him again, but this time he kisses me back, and holds me tight against his chest. Which feels wonderful.


Kyle is trembling.

I've never felt him like this before. He's like a bowstring, ready to snap, or sing, or fly off at a touch. I hold him as tight as I can, and hope that will be enough. I can feel his fingers comb through my hair, as he adjusts his grip.

"Kyle-!" we break apart at last, breathless.

"You okay?" he asks.

"More." I tell him, simply. Kyle swallows, and rests his forehead against my shoulder, massaging down my chest with his fingertips. His dark hair tickles the side of my chin.

I'm here, I'm now, and he's with me.

I move forward to hold him again, and stumble because Kyle dropped my bow earlier, and I just stepped on it. He catches me. We sink to our knees, still locked together. I reach down with one hand and set the bow aside. We may need the room...



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