It took several weeks for Jim to convince Sebastian to allow him to handle his gun. Well, perhaps ‘weeks’ was a bit of an exaggeration, but it was how long it felt to Jim ‘Impatient Brat’ Moriarty. Every day he would slowly chip away at Seb’s resolve, nagging and badgering, nudging the taller teen with a knowing smirk and a low hum of “pleeeeeeeaaaseee, Basher?” in that lilting Irish tone of his. “Just one…little…shot?” Jesus, the kid was practically climbing up Sebastian’s side just to press his lips against Seb’s ear, breath tickling so he had to shoo Jim away.
"Alright, fine! But you’ve gotta follow my rules." Bastian waved his hand, brushing Jim off his shoulder before the heat of his breath spread elsewhere.
Jim’s face was positively smug, a triumphant grin stretching his lips as he descended Sebastian’s side. He knew he’d get his way; it was only a matter of time. And worse, Sebastian knew it too.
Seb shook his head, marveling at the embodiment of self-assurance that was Jim. They had been reclining on Sebastian’s bed, relaxing when James brought up for the fourth time that day the subject of Seb’s gun. He’d finally been worn down, amazed that Jim hadn’t yet flat-out demanded that Sebastian show him the ropes. In fact it was the closest to begging Sebastian had ever seen Jim venture.
"Well, come on, then," beckoned Jim as he slid off the bed, holding his chin high in pride over his victory. He rolled his eyes and grabbed Sebastian’s hand upon seeing the brow raised in question on the other teen’s face. "You’re going to teach me to shoot a gun. Now."
What could Seb do but follow Jim as he was dragged outside, the shorter teen’s steps bouncing with excitement. Sebastian swiped his gun from its case in his room and stepped outside where Jim was watching him expectantly, fingers twitching at his sides. The teen reached out for the gun and got the top of his hand smacked.
"Ah-ah-ah. Not so fast there," scolded Sebastian. He led Jim further from the house, inspecting the gun as he walked. Everything seemed to be in working order… So if he died today, it was his own fault. Seb smirked at that thought and held up the pistol. "SIG Sauer P226, 9mm, semi-automatic. Here’s the muzzle, the barrel, the hammer, the magazine, the trigger. This pistol’s got an internal safety mechanism, so all you’ve got to do is shoot. And never dry-fire a gun, you got that?" Jim’s toes were tapping impatiently on the grass, though his eyes flicked about, absorbing Seb’s every word.
Sebastian could see he was losing Jim’s patience, and an impatient Jim could be a dangerous one. He worked his jaw and decided to get on with it, tapping his finger against the trigger guard and wrapping his hand around the grip. “Now, see, you just steady your feet, hold it level, and…” A shot fired, expertly aimed to nick off a chunk of bark on a tree a few hundred meters away. Seb turned back around, evaluating the studied look on Jim’s face. “Think you can do that?”
It was a moment or two of consideration, staring at the dent in the tree before Jim cracked a grin and stepped forward.
"Alright," said the blond teen, sidling up beside Jim. "Just hold it like this - not too tight, relaxed…" He handed the gun off to Jim, plucking at his fingers until he had it right, nestled securely in his palm.
Standing behind Jim, Sebastian’s attention drifted away to the back of Jim’s neck, a pale contrast to his dark hair. The boy was always interested in things that were dangerous. It could be a little unsettling at times, but that was just Jim’s nature. The shifting light of metal drew Seb’s gaze back to the matter at hand as Jim tapped his fingers over the slide and settled delicately against the trigger.
"Good," murmured Sebastian, taking the opportunity to slide even closer to Jim’s small yet capable form. He extended an arm to guide the other, his body wrapping close to Jim’s. "Keep your arm steady, now…" He licked his lips in anticipation.
Jim let out a wisp of breath, amusement lacing his lips. Moran was so concentrated on the craft of his gunmanship, aligning Jim’s hold with care. It was endearing, in a twisted little way. But mischief was Jim’s game, and who was he to allow such a golden opportunity go to waste?
The dark-haired teen levered his hips back into Seb’s groin, breaking Sebastian’s concentration with a sing-song of discovery. “Ooooh~ I didn’t know you’d brought another gun, Tiger. Or should I be flattered?” He chuckled as Sebastian stammered indignantly, knowing he’d gotten the older boy to blush.
Before Sebastian could respond, James steadied his arm and pulled the trigger, firing a well-placed shot directly into a dark knot in the wood of the tree. He patted the magazine and turned back to face Seb, a light dancing in his eyes. Jim slapped the pistol back into Sebastian’s palm and yawned.
The older boy could only gape in return, mind caught in a tug-of-war between the blatant flirting and Jim’s deadly accuracy. “You—You’ve done this before,” he stammered, grinding his teeth to distract from the friction Jim had caused against his trousers.
James only smirked back, eyes glinting with mischief. ”This has been fun and all, Seb,” he replied, gaze drifting down past the weapon in Sebastian’s hands and to the obvious bulge in his trousers. “But when I said I wanted to handle your gun…” Jim pressed forward, lips at Seb’s ear and palm covering the pistol. “This wasn’t the only gun I was talking about.”