You were put off by something, or at least stressed, if your groaning and shit aim at the shooting range didn’t already make it very obvious. It was getting ridiculous seeing you miss shots that you previously would hit without effort, or at least that's what König thought as he watched. So it wasn't long before he got up and helped you aim.

"Scheisse, not again," he said, after a few minutes of being pressed up behind you.

It didn’t take long before you felt a certain part of him poke you.