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The first time Jesper suggested it, Wylan didn’t pay much heed to it.
“You want to what?”
Jesper grinned, twirling his revolver around his finger once more, “I want to teach you how to shoot.”
Wylan blinked, slowly putting down the sheet of music he’d been scribbling on for ages, “why?”
Jesper shrugged, “you’re in the barrel darling, you should know how to defend yourself.”
“Technically,” Wylan said in an unamused tone, raising an eyebrow, “this isn’t the barrel, it’s the Geldstraat.”
Jesper waved a dismissive hand but Wylan continued, “and I can defend myself just fine,” he gestured to his satchel that sat on the table beside him, even now, still full of bombs, “what do you call these? Party tricks?”
Jesper walked up so that he was standing behind Wylan , running his hands along the length of his arms until he could grasp onto Wylan’s own hands. He kissed the top of the ruddy curls tickling his face then rested his chin on top of Wylan’s head, “there will come a day,” he said slowly, smiling when Wylan leant against his chest, “when you won’t have your bombs at hand and you might need something a little less explosive to defend yourself.”
Wylan snorted and squeezed his hands, bringing one up to kiss, “isn’t that what my super hot gunslinging boyfriend is for?” he said innocently, but Jesper saw right through him. Little minx. He grinned, tilting his head to kiss Wylan’s neck, just under his ear, just where he loved it, “is that so?” he murmured, “and what else is said boyfriend good for?”
Needless to say, no shooting got done after that particular conversation. Jesper hadn’t complained though, not at all.
The second time, Jesper didn’t give Wylan a chance to divert his attention elsewhere.
“Jesper, what are you doing?”
Jesper grinned over his shoulder at Wylan who was being unceremoniously tugged through the mansion, “I’m kidnapping you!” he said cheerfully. Wylan rolled his eyes, “you better not send the ransom to Kaz, he won’t pay it.”
“Yeah he would, he couldn’t lose his access to the Merchant Council.”
“Thanks for putting it that way,” Wylan said dryly, giving Jesper’s hand a feeble tug. Jesper tugged him back, using his powers to flick open the door so that he didn’t have to let go, “quit wiggling,” he complained, backing into the room and practically hauling Wylan with him. He once again flicked the doors closed then spun his boyfriend around, dropping his hands onto his shoulders with a flourish, “ta da!”
Wylan blinked then shook his head incredulously, “you were serious about teaching me to shoot?”
Jesper grinned, “you know me, I never joke when guns are involved,” he lowered his voice a tad, delighting on the ruby red blush it prompted, “all of my guns.”
Wylan groaned and swatted his arm, still beet red, “that was terrible, even for you.” Jesper poked his cheek, “well it worked didn’t it.”
“Shut it assehole.”
Jesper refrained from making a comment about that, deciding to take pity on his boyfriend’s blushing brain. He removed one of his pearl handled revolvers with a flourish, unable to resist an elaborate twirl around his finger. He then handed the gun to Wylan who blinked down at it, “that’s your gun.” He said dumbly.
Jesper rolled his eyes and pressed it into Wylan’s hand himself, curving his fingers around the engraved pearl handle, “well spotted merchling.”
Wylan took the gun warily, cradling it in both hands, “are you sure? You love these guns more then you love me.”
Jesper snorted, “for someone so clever that’s the most incorrect thing you’ve ever said, there is nothing I love more then you.”
If his heart jumped at those words, well he wasn’t going to think about that. It was a little scary, how much he loved Wylan, considering he’d never even come close to feeling the same way about anyone else before. There had even been a time when Jesper believed that romance just wasn’t for him, that he’d much prefer to just constantly sleep around, find someone new and leave without any commitments. Then Wylan had burst into his life with a perfectly timed flash bomb and turned his whole world upside down until his head was just full of confused yelling 24/7.
The yelling had mostly subsided by now, but his point still stood.
Wylan smiled, that soft one, the left sided one like someone was tugging on the corner of his mouth with a string, “even more then yourself?” he teased, bright eyes full of so much love that Jesper felt like melting into a puddle. Maybe he did, who knows at this point. He grinned, “contrary to popular belief,” he stooped low so that he could press a lingering kiss to Wylan’s smooth check, “I don’t fancy dating myself, I like you a whole lot better.”
“Flatterer,” Wylan murmured, his smile widening.
Jesper straightened, clearing his throat, “now stop trying to seduce your way out of this,” Wylan raised an incredulous eyebrow but he let Jesper continue, “lift that gun and shoot!”
Wylan sighed but he obliged, turning on his heel so that was facing the target. He lifted the gun, using both hands, and braced himself the best he could. Jesper watched the movement of his hands, tightening and loosening its grip on the revolver, thin, musicians fingers curled around the handle in a way that made Jesper’s cheeks burn. He swallowed, cleared his throat and looked away.
Cool it Fahey.
“Am I doing this right?” Wylan called over his shoulder, not looking away from the target.
Oh you’re doing something alright.
He coughed, “yeah… yeah you are, just let me,” he walked up behind Wylan until they were flush. Wylan jumped slightly at the contact, looking up at him over his shoulder “hello,” he said, looking a little amused. Jesper ignored him, running his hands along Wylan’s arms until he reached his elbows, “relax these,” he murmured into his ear, gently bending his elbows so they weren’t rigid. His hands continued their journey until they covered Wylan’s own, fixing the way they held the gun. His hands were warm under his touch, a startling contrast to the cool metal of his revolver. He raised their joined hands up until the gun was level with the target, “now brace yourself,” he said softly, “the recoil is different on a revolver then on a rifle.”
Wylan nodded, taking a deep breathe, “okay,” he said, “I’m ready.” Jesper nudged the backs of his knees with his own, “spread your legs a bit love,” he snorted at the double implication of his words and Wylan groaned, “don’t even start,” he grumbled, adjusting his stance, “better?”
Jesper nodded, drawing himself away again but Wylan shook his head hurriedly, “no,” he said quickly, his cheeks flaming and Jesper raised an eyebrow, “stay. Please.”
He grinned, kissing his burning cheek, “since you begged so nicely for me,” he sniggered, enticing another exasperated sigh, “you’re insufferable you know that,” Wylan complained.
Jesper raised his other eyebrow to join the first, “you never complain when I beg-“
“-Stop it!” Wylan snapped, his smile betraying his actual emotions. Jesper kissed his temple softly, deciding to quit playing with him. For now, anyway. It was fun annoying him.
Wylan readjusted his stance, hands tightening around the gun and he took on a single, deep breathe. Then he fired. The recoil pushed Wylan back but Jesper caught him, steadying him with arms still clasped over his hands. Wylan squinted at the target, “did I hit it?” He asked eagerly. Considering how reluctant he had been about doing this at all Jesper found it amusing how giddy he was now that he’d started. He was practically bouncing.
Jesper looked up then snorted, “you hit the wall behind the target.”
Wylan deflated a little, “oh,” then he brightened, “but there’s more bullets?”
“As many as you need darling.”
Wylan nodded, readjusting his stance once more and nudging Jesper back with his elbow. He got the message, pulling away so that his hands rested on Wylan’s hips instead, giving him the space to -mostly- shoot on his own. Wylan shifted the gun in his hands, finding a better grip and Jesper hurriedly looked away again, finding the velvety purple curtains very interesting.
“You know,” Jesper said suddenly, prompting a sigh from Wylan, “your father’s paintings are still up in the attic if you wanted to use them as target practice.” Wylan stiffened ever so slightly, as he always did when his father was mentioned, “maybe not today,” he said tensely and Jesper shrugged, kissing his temple once more, “whatever you want merchling.”
Wylan chuckled, tearing his gaze away from the target to meet his eyes, “how long do I have to be a merchant for you to stop calling me merchling?”
Jesper slipped his arms around Wylan’s waist so he could hug him, burying his face into his shoulder, “you’ll always be my merchling,” he said into the crook of his neck, “my little fresh-faced, runaway merchling.”
A gunshot rang out, loud and clear and Jesper yelped, untangling himself from his boyfriend to reach for his revolver. He scowled, swatting Wylan’s hip lightly as he laughed into his sleeve, “you’re playing dirty sunshine,” he complained, clearing his throat in an attempt to preserve what little crumbs of dignity he had left. Wylan attempted to twirl the gun around his finger -he failed and it wobbled dangerously, causing Jesper to wince- “you were being all sappy,” he said, grinning, then handed Jesper the gun back.
Jesper eyed the considerable lack of bullet holes on the target, “you can’t finish so soon, you’ve yet to actually hit the target.” Wylan stepped forward, tugging Jesper towards him with a grip on his waist, “I think I managed just fine,” he said, his smile turning slightly sharper in the corners and he squeezed Jesper’s waist.
It was a little embarrassing how that small action made his cheeks heat up but he swallowed anyway, feeling more then a little flustered, “technically if you missed the target both time you managed the exact opposite of fine.”
Wylan raised an eyebrow, slowly moving his hands from Jesper’s waist to travel down the length of his arms, squeezing his hands just a little harder then was necessary. Jesper’s face burned. “I think,” Wylan said slowly, smile widening as he took in the extent of Jesper’s scattered state of mind, “I managed something else just fine.”
Jesper pulled him closer with their joined hands, ducking his head so that their noses brushed, close enough that Wylan could probably feel the heat radiating from him, and from the way Wylan squeezed his hands even tighter, he noticed. “What are you going to do about it?” he murmured, dipping even lower so he could say it against his mouth.
Wylan shrugged, pushing Jesper insistently enough that he began to back up, allowing himself to be practically shoved against the door, “I might have some ideas,” he said coyly, relinquishing Jesper’s hands so he could cup the sides of his neck.
“You know,” Jesper said suddenly when Wylan started to lean in, “this is the second time you’ve started something when I try to teach you to shoot,” he laughed lightly, drumming his fingers on the smooth pearl handles of his revolvers, “if I didn’t know any better I’d say you had a thing for my guns.”
Wylan turned a truly shocking shade of red.
Jesper gaped, pulling away slightly so he could properly take in just how red Wylan was, “no way!” he murmured, then grinned, “however have you handled all those months of fighting side by side?”
Wylan scowled, “shut it,” he snapped, slipping his hands under Jesper’s shirt, running them up his sides and Jesper promptly lost all train of thought, focused only on the scorching feeling Wylan’s small, lithe hands left on him, “you can’t talk, I saw the way you were looking at my hands.”
“Alright that’s fair,” he managed, already embarrassingly breathless and Wylan grinned, pressing even closer and yeah, Jesper really didn’t feel like thinking all that much.
Jesper had a feeling he was going to mention it a third time, he was beginning to like the unexpected turn his shooting lessons were taking. And if he excessively twirled his guns on front of Wylan on their next job? Well that was for him to know and him alone. And maybe Wylan, he certainly noticed anyway.
Yeah, he loved his guns and he loved himself, but Wylan was something he loved on a whole other level. And his hands, saints he loved Wylan’s hands.