Bang, Bang
- My Baby Shot Me down -

Pairing: Nicholas Angel/Danny Butterman
 
Category: Humor, Gunplay, Community: kink_bingo
 
Rating: R
 
Summary: It's general knowledge that Danny stinks when it comes to weapons and Nick has scheduled him for a day of training.
 
Notes: Kink Bingo prompt: Guns
 
Word count: 1,412

When Nick had suggested that Danny make himself better acquainted with the various weapons they might encounter in the line of duty, Danny couldn't have agreed more. However, around half a minute into it, he realized just how stupid he'd been to accept and just how embarrassing it was going to be.

One thing was the theory behind it all, and Danny didn't have a problem with the gun on the table in front of him. Well, except from the fact that he was supposed to take it apart, clean it and then put it back together.

So one might ask what the problem was. Well, the problem was that Nick, being the organized policeman, sorry, officer that he was, had insisted on first showing Danny how to do it. Danny had known for some time that he had a thing about Nick's handling of weapons, guns and rifles specifically.

Swallowing hard, Danny stared down at the gun on the white cloth on the table in front of him. Nick had put it there, and it was placed at a perfectly straight angle to the edge of the table. Along the top of the table he'd laid out several cleaning utilities for Danny to use.

In order of size, smallest to biggest, left from right.

"Danny, pay attention." Nick's sounded less annoyed than Danny had expected. If he allowed himself to dream a little, he might even call it exasperated fondness.

"I am," Danny said defensively, but he tried the best he could to ignore just how uncomfortable his trousers were getting. At least the table covered him from Nick's gaze. Which was boring into him at the moment, but at least Nick seemed to be satisfied and set about taking his service revolver apart, cleaning it and putting it back together again in record time.

Danny couldn't take his eyes off Nick's hands during the process. The pieces almost seemed to simply come apart in his hands, like a lover would spread their legs with a sigh of surrender. The pieces were laid out, quickly in one line and the various tools were picked up and used, the long swabs inserted into the gun barrel, efficiently rolled between two fingers before being pulled back out.

Closing his eyes for a moment, Danny bit his lower lip and silently cursed Nick's efficiency, his long fingers, capable hands, his arse, which he wasn't the only one ogling in the town, though he prided himself of hiding it better than most.

"Danny?"

Danny had never really understood what people meant when saying that time slowed down, froze, but that very moment, he had a pretty good idea. Judging by Nick's voice, low and intimate, he wasn't standing up front anymore...

Opening his eyes, Danny's anxiety spiked. Nick was standing next to his table, leaning forward with one hand on the tabletop, fingertips barely brushing Danny's own gun, still in one piece in front of him.

"Erm..." was all Danny could get out. He couldn't tear his eyes from Nick's, completely mesmerized, like a small mammal at the mercies of a killer snake.

"Were you even paying attention?" Nick asked with a frown.

"I eh...," Danny trailed off when Nick broke their gaze, his eyes straying down. Danny closed his eyes again and swallowed hard. There went his easy nights with Nick in front of the telly or in the pub. No way was Nick ever going to be at ease around Danny again.

There was no sound in the room but Danny's breathing and he refused to ever open his eyes again, because this went well beyond the embarrassment of being caught with his hands down Niles Acton's trouser at the age of 11 or when he'd walked in on the two Andys... eh... no, not letting his mind go there, ever again.

"I'm sorry," he managed to croak out.

"What for?" Nick asked quietly.

His voice was just a little lower and a little huskier than usually and Danny couldn't have kept his eyes from opening even if he'd tried to. Staring at Nick, he found his partner watching him back with a soft grin and a glint to his darkened eyes.

"You do know it's important to take good care of all your weapons, Danny, I've told you that before." He picked up Danny's gun and sat down on the corner of Danny's table, positioning himself in a way that stretched his black regulation trousers over his thighs and crotch and Danny could not help but stare the prominent bulge.

"Now, pay attention, Danny, I'll show you how to do it," Nick told him quietly. "There'll be a hands-on test tonight."

Reaching forward, he slid his hand down over Danny's crotch, rubbing the heel of his hand against Danny's cock. The layers of clothes made it almost painful, but Danny stared at Nick's face, unwilling to miss a thing, even though he was feeling like he was dying from pleasure.

He whimpered when Nick stopped and watched with trepidation as Nick took Danny's hands and placed the gun there. Sliding his fingers between Danny's, Nick coaxed Danny's fumbling fingers into an almost obscene dance that had the gun yielding and coming apart as easily as Danny wanted to follow Nick's orders.

Danny wasn't sure he'd be able to copy every move later, but at that very moment, he couldn't care less. Nick's fingers caressed his, offered him the right cleaning tools and if possible, Danny grew harder with every step.

He was fitting the gun back together far too soon and he knew he wouldn't be able to move without coming right there.

"Safety while handling weapons is always important," Nick whispered, his voice deeper and huskier than Danny had ever been capable of imagining it. The gun was back on the table, safety on. "And always finish what you've begun."

Nick leaned forward and without any preamble, he twisted the button of Danny's trousers open, slid the zipper down slowly and slipped his hand inside, movements just as efficient as when he'd stripped his gun.

When Nick leaned further forward, putting his free hand on the back of Danny's chair, Danny couldn't help but lean forward to bury his burning face against Nick's shoulder, breathing in the starch and detergent of the white shirt and just a hint of sweat underneath it. He gripped the edge of the table and he wondered for a split second if he'd be leaving imprints in the wood.

Nick twisted his hand, tightening his grip around Danny and Danny had no way of fighting the keening noise that escaped him.

"It's okay, the room's soundproof," Nick whispered with a breathy chuckle against Danny's ear. "It's not like the others aren't already wondering what we're doing in here."

Danny opened his mouth to say something witty, but it was blown out of his mind when Nick twisted his hand again, grip bordering on painful, as he slid his hand up to squeeze at the head of Danny's cock.

"You know I'm good with my hands," Nick rumbled.

"Oh yeah," Danny gasped, trying to breathe in enough air to survive.

"And if you're a really good pupil, you learn the... technique," he said, doing something really evil with his hand that had Danny lifting his arse out of the chair for a moment, not wanting to lose that amazing touch. "If you're really good, I'll let you take off my holster and oil it later."

With a cry, Danny came, splattering come up along Nick's arm and over his own black trousers.

Nick's touch gentled while Danny closed his eyes and leaned back on his chair, trying to catch his breath. Danny could feel how Nick wiped him clean and did his trousers back up, tugging the rumpled shirt down a little.

Danny opened his eyes to find Nick standing in front of his table, wiping his hands in a handkerchief, a soft smile on his face. With a wink, he turned around and sauntered back to the table where he kept the line-up of weapons and studied it for a moment. Then he reached out and moved the AK-47 to his work table, smirking at Danny before taking it apart.

Danny tried not to grin and did his best to pay attention.

This was shaping up to be the best cop training he'd ever had and for once he couldn't wait for the test.

The End