Title: Trigger Happy
Author: BipolarMolar
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: Brendan Brady is good with a gun.
This was inspired by the scene where Brendan showed Walker his stolen gun. Hands up if you paused the TV at that part, just to see the flash of Brendan's stomach and chest! Lololol…
Well, I'm thinking about branching out to write for other, larger fandoms instead, so I'm trying to finish all the incomplete work I've got up here. But…enjoy. And don't forget to let me know if you liked it. I don't know the first thing about guns or how they're built, so I apologise if there are any errors. Also, this isn't beta'd so all mistakes are mine.
The moment Brendan had hitched up the hem of his black T-shirt, to reveal the nestled against his stomach, Simon's heart had thudded in his ribcage. Perhaps it was the sight of Brendan's muscular chest, ring and falling with each breath, close enough to touch, that did it. Or maybe it was the way his chest hair, spread across his front, deepened and darkened into an inviting pathway down his body to where the waistband clung to his middle. Certainly, the shiny brown leather of his belt, casually looped around his waist like a ribbon on a present added to his sex appeal. The sight of the gleaming black metal, hard against his firm flesh, casual with a hint of danger made Simon lick his lips, uncomfortably aroused.
And now, here they were, in Chez Chez, and the tension ran thick in the air like seething snakes. Walker was seated on the black leather sofa, watching Brendan pace around the room, his shoes slapping at the ground. When Brendan approached him, Walker swallowed, trying desperately to keep his eyes on Brendan's penetrating gaze because that bump under his top, where the dark metal rested, was making Walker have some rather filthy thoughts.
"What is it?" Brendan said in a monotone, his blank. He clearly wasn't in the mood for games.
"I didn't say anything," Walker said smoothly, inwardly panicking. His palms were beginning to sweat- had he been looking at Brendan too long? Had Brendan noticed?
"You've been staring at me for-" Brendan's hand dipped into his jeans pocket, retrieving his mobile phone. The light briefly illuminated his face as he checked the time. "-just over an hour. So Simon…care to tell me what's happened?"
Walker tapped his fingers on the leather restlessly. "Just surprised, you seem…accustomed to handling a gun, is all."
Brendan nodded at that, so, feeling braver, Walker persisted. "Are you sure you should just have it tucked in your trousers like that? What if it goes off...it'll be Bang, Bang, Bye-Bye Brendan."
Brendan's lips curled, his hand went to his side and seeing those long fingers wrap around the weapon, the soft cotton of his shirt lovingly tight against the gun like a second skin, and Walker crossed his legs, feeling his cock twitch. "What's wrong, Simon? Scared the bad man's gonna do something stupid with his big gun? " He retrieved the metal item from his waistband, testing the weight in his hand like he was born to handle guns. Walker flinched, the loud click ominous as Brendan took the safety off. The dark-haired man suddenly straightened out his arm, pointing the gun directly at Simon Walker. Staring into the barrel of the gun, the dark tunnel like an indifferent eye, Walker slowly brought up his hands, palms forward in a calming gesture.
"Don't…"
"No worries, I wouldn't waste a bullet on you." Brendan sniffed, stowing the pistol away in his waistband. Walker breathed again. "Besides, you do have your uses, I suppose."
Suddenly, Brendan seemed much too close, his face inches from Walker's as he leant down, close enough to kiss him. Or shoot a bullet through his temple. "Do you wanna touch it?" Brendan purred, his eyes gleaming at the prospect.
"What?" Walker yelped, moving back into the leather sofa, with nowhere to go. Brendan slowly smiled, and the widening of his lips entrance Walker. Simon found himself following the movements of Brendan's lips with his eyes, making it hard to focus on the words.
"The gun, Walker. Do you want to touch the gun?"
It was a bizarre request but exactly what Walker wanted. "Yes," he breathed. "Please."
Without a word, Brendan shifted his stance so his legs were spread, leaning over Walker with his hands on the back of the sofa. Walker ducked his head to avoid the swinging crucifix necklace and tapped the space where the T-shirt bulged. Brendan didn't stop him so he lifted up the material to spy the gun, as black as an exotic spider and just as dangerous. With his trigger finger, he stroked the handle slowly in an upward motion, first once, then two times.
Brendan's breathing sounded heavy in the dim bar. Brendan batted Walker's hand away, removing the gun again. Walker watched as he carefully put the safety back on. There was a short pause, a hesitation, and then Brendan pointed the item squarely at Walker's face. Walker closed his eyes, bracing himself for- he didn't know what. But all he felt was the faintest touch of cold metal on his cheek, as Brendan lightly ran the gun over his face. Along his cheekbones, under his jaw (the barrel scraping the rougher skin there), then up to cheekily tap him on the nose. Walker opened his eyes, confused at the gentleness. A gun was a dangerous thing, even with the safety catch on; he didn't much fancy being pistol-whipped or accidentally shot. Brendan's eyes were dark, heavy-lidded as he shunted the gun against Walker's lips in a slow, lazy fashion. Feeling the metal brush his lips, Walker obediently let his lips fall open.
"Kiss it." If Brendan hadn't been right next to him, he wouldn't have heard him. Without thinking, he pouted, pressing a long, close-lipped kiss to the weapon.
"Lick it." Again, he obeyed, first licking his lips so that they'd part easier, then slowly running a languid tongue down it, leaving a long, wet line of saliva down the metal. He made sure to keep his eyes on Brendan's as he licked. The thought that this object t had been in Brendan's trousers, rubbing against his waist and hip made him give the pistol an extra-hard lick.
Brendan seemed affected by Walker's attentions to the gun; he was clearly trying not to pant as his face flushed with arousal. His eyes held a challenging glare, daring Walker to comment on the fact that Brendan's trousers were now tight against his obvious erection, his crotch so close to Walker's face as he stood over the seated man. Brendan straightened up, holding the gun at waist level with both hands, barrel pointing at Walker. "Suck the gun, Simon." He growled, voice rough. "Take it in your mouth; pretend it's my cock, Simon."
If the tension hadn't been so heavy, like a panting panther pacing the room, and the arousal hadn't been so potent like a miasma, a swirling cocktail of need, desirer ad wanton confusion, Walker would have questioned the order. But he didn't. He licked his lips, them parted them trustingly. He thought it might be easier if he closed his eyes, so his last view was of Brendan's crotch, near eye-level and the barrel of the gun, a little lower. He felt the blunt hardness bumping against his lips, so he opened his mouth wide, allowing Barmen to push the barrel in. The moment the barrel was in his mouth, icy cold on his tongue; his eyes flew open as the gravity of the situation hit him. This was stupid. Idiotic. What if the safety catch faltered, or Brendan made a mistake? He had the damned thing in his mouth for goodness sake!
"Mmgh…" he tried to speak around the gun, only managing an incomprehensible mumble.
"Hm?" Brendan cocked his head, yanking the gun from Walker's mouth. Walker winced as the weapon was ripped from his lips. "Take the bullets out first. " He muttered, eyes falling shut in relief, hearing the tinkle of bullets raining on the floor.
"Good idea. It was getting a bit like Fight Club there." Brendan drawled, making Walker snigger. His laughter was cut short as the now-safe gun was rammed into his mouth again. Unsure on what to do, he brought up both hands to hold the barrel steady as he licked it. He could see Brendan's hands tighten on the handle; feel the whole thing shake in Brendan's grasp. Walker smiled around the gun, knowing that he was deeply affecting Brendan. Better give him a show then. He licked and sucked at the metal like he wanted nothing more than the pistol deep in his mouth. He mad his eyes widen, meeting Brendan's desperate gaze, as he blew the item that was now shaking in Brendan's sweating hands. Walker withdrew hurriedly; the shaking of the gun could make him chip a tooth- he wasn't going to take chances.
With a growl of frustration, Brendan wiped the damp gun on the rough denim of Walker's jeans.
"Tease. " He hissed, a glint in his eyes.
Author's Notes: Probably going to be one more after this, with full-on slash. If there's something you'd really like to see in the next chapter, let me know in a pm or review.