He had never liked guns. As he had told Ian, he didn't really believe in them. It wasn't that he was unaware of their existence, or in denial of their capabilities. It was that he didn't like what they did, what they could do. Though it might make him seem detached, he liked things to be logical, controllable. And guns and all they represented were everything but logical and controllable. The idea that death could strike anyone anywhere at anytime was frightening to him. So while he acknowledged the necessity of his brother and the other agents using them, he had never understood the appeal of guns. Until now.
It wasn't actually the guns, it was the way he used them. Control and order had always fascinated Charlie, and Ian Edgerton was the epitome of controlled. Practical, even ruthless, he nevertheless kept his emotions under control and away from his job. It wasn't that he didn't feel, but that he acknowledged those emotions and then let them go, not hording them as guilt or anger as some of his fellow agents did. He knew what he needed to do and did it, without doubts, with complete confidence in himself and his abilities. No, it wasn't the guns; it was the effortless talent and incredible focus he exuded.
Charlie had decided early on, that he would do anything he could to get that focus turned towards him. Agreeing to go with Ian to the gun range had certainly seemed like a good step in that endeavor, but he had never considered this kind of torture. It was definitely torture, torture of the most delicious kind.
They had gone after hours, so they wouldn't be distracted Ian had said. Stepping up behind him, Ian had leaned close, showing him the proper way to hold the gun, his hot breath ghosting over Charlie's ear and neck. He shivered in reaction, then almost choked as Ian solicitously asked if he was cold. Shaking his head, he didn't believe for a second that the sniper didn't know what was going on.
Deciding to disregard it and follow Ian's lead, he positioned himself according to his instructions, holding himself strictly in place as the older man shifted him with barely there touches. Taking his first shot, Charlie was unsurprised that it went wide, his body reacting despite his best efforts. Deciding he needed a demonstration, the sniper took the gun from him.
Charlie stared wide eyed; he couldn't possibly be fondling it, could he. He had to be imagining it; Ian was just showing him how best to grip it. Holding it, the sniper lightly caressed the top, telling him how to aim it. Teasing slightly at the trigger, his finger sliding up and down it, he finally pulled it, Charlie's whimper audible even with the sound of the shot.
Quick as a cat, Ian was on him, lowering the gun, and pouncing, backing him against the wall even as he feasted on the younger man's mouth. Whining in the back of his throat, Charlie returned the kiss just as hungrily, burning up under the sniper's intense gaze. Feeling whiplash for a moment, as he was suddenly turned around, head spinning from the drugging effect of those kisses.
When hands grasped his bare ass, he realized he had lost time, too caught up in mindless lust. His cheeks were fondled and squeezed, then separated to allow a single finger to brush along his perineum to his asshole. Making its way inside, it fluttered against the muscle opening it gently. Groaning, Charlie expressed his displeasure, widening his stance and pushing back hard, fucking himself on the object inside him. His demand for more was choked off, as a second finger joined the first, a third following just as quickly.
Feeling unbearably empty as the fingers disappeared, he was relieved to feel the blunt head of Ian's cock pushed against and then through his opening. Apparently satisfied with his prepping, the sniper took him hard and fast. Pressing him up against the wall, and pumping into him relentlessly. Charlie could only hold on, as he was fucked roughly yet controlled, the older man making sure not to hurt him in the process.
Fastening his teeth to Charlie's shoulder, he humped into him savagely, wanting him to come just from his cock. Ian's eyes rolled back in his head, at the feel of him tightening impossibly around him as he climaxed with a cry. Shuddering, the sniper quickly followed, slumped against his back. Nearly purring with contentment, Charlie had the wild thought that maybe he should spend more time at the gun range after all.