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“Alright,” said Tim.
“Alright,” Jason replied, still not entirely believing they were going to do this. Grinning wasn’t entirely appropriate, but neither was fucking with guns, so he figured he was just going to be inappropriate tonight.
Tim smiled at him, crooked and awkward. Again, Jason found himself charmed. Tim was such a dork.
"Got a gun for me to use?"
"Oh," Jason started, laughing, "I'm sure I've got one lying around the place somewhere."
Tim snorted as Jason went to the locker where he kept a few pistols. It clicked unlocked when he tapped in the code, and he eyed the weapons for a second.
Might as well go for broke, he figured-- if he thought about this every time he used them from now on, so be it. He pulled out the modified M1911-- the style he used most often out as Red Hood-- letting the weight of the gun sit heavy in his hand. Out of habit, he pulled out the magazine to check that it was empty, then slid the rack back. The chamber was empty. All good, then.
He turned and flipped the gun, holding it by the barrel as he held it out to Tim.
Tim's hand was steady as he reached out and took it, fingers inches away from Jason's. They were starkly pale against the black of the grip.
His living room took on a new character with Tim-holding-his-gun inside it. Jason felt his blood running hotter-- pulsing tightly through his wrists and neck.
Even though Jason had just checked it, Tim’s nimble fingers tugged the magazine out. Jason’s eyes followed him, his hands dropping to hang at his sides-- tucking one hand into a pocket as an afterthought to curl into the fabric inside.
Tim slid the empty magazine back into the pistol with a soft schnicking sound. Pulled the rack back so that he could peer into the chamber from above with one keen blue eye. When he let it go, the metal clacked. Jason’s face warmed, hands flexing.
With precise, slow movements, Tim clicked the safety off, then back on, before looking back up at Jason. His mouth dropped slightly open as he saw Jason, which probably meant that Jason had the most stupid-horny look on his face.
“You’re really into this,” Tim said, sounding… surprised? Awed?
“I wouldn’t have asked for it if I weren’t,” said Jason, coughing a little awkwardly.
“And if you want to stop-- you’ll just tell me, right?” Tim’s eyes were wide, but intent. The foot and a half between them was close enough that Jason could drop a hand on Tim’s shoulder, rubbing at the tense muscle. His thumb digs in slightly.
“Yeah, I’ll tell you. No games there.”
Tim’s body relaxed, tongue darting out to run over his lips. They glistened in the living room light. Should they turn the lights out? There weren’t any good sightlines into the apartment, least not with the curtains drawn, so they should be fine… but there was still the surprise vigilante visitor concern. He really had had this safehouse for too long.
Jason’s thoughts scattered as Tim gestured toward the bedroom with the gun. His chest tightened, and he shifted slightly before nodding. He led the way to the bedroom, as he so often did, and stood there in his boots and heavy work pants.
“Pillow?” asked Tim from behind as he entered the room.
Jason shrugged. Tim came around to the front of him, looking him up and down speculatively before apparently deciding to forgo the pillow-- he shrugged, too, pistol dangling loosely to point at the ground.
“Last words?” Tim tilted his head back to meet Jason’s eyes. His expression had gone almost unreadable, and Jason squinted at him, shaking himself out of the space he could already feel himself going to.
“You sure you’re into this?”
Tim huffed, smiling faintly.
“I know I’m not showing the right face, cause you asked me not to ‘act’ around you anymore, but I’m very into this.” And his eyes were eager, Jason could see that. He wasn’t doing that thing he’d done before-- no mask, just the Stare. Probably said something about Jason, that he was so into that stare.
“Got it,” Jason said, smiling back. “We’re good, then.”
Tim nodded and lifted the gun, reaching up to tap the underside of the barrel against Jason’s shoulder. He could only faintly feel it through the leather jacket he was still wearing.
“Down.”
Jason went, knees knocking against the floor. The stiff fabric of his pants was coarse against his legs, and his boots kept his feet at a kind of funky angle. Tim stepped closer, boots near-silent on his threadbare carpet.
The cold barrel slid against Jason’s chin, tilting his head back. He watched Tim’s eyes move over his face, slow and studious. Tim nudged at him with the gun, pushing his head to the right. He could feel the tendons in his neck tensing as he turned-- as Tim slid the barrel slowly down and then up the side of his neck.
The scent of metal and gunpowder hung in the air. Jason swallowed, felt it lingering in the back of his mouth. Found himself salivating.
A heavy breath from Tim, almost like a sigh or something, and the metal slid up over his jawbone, a heavy presence against him. He caressed his cheek with it, pressing down enough that Jason could feel the way his skin dimpled beneath it.
Pausing, like he was thinking about something, Tim shifted slightly backwards, pulling the gun away. Jason found himself following forward for half an inch before catching himself and stopping.
And that sound from Tim was definitely a quiet laugh. He went back in, pushing Jason’s bangs up with the barrel before placing it against the side of his forehead. Jason shifted, thighs tensing. Swallowed again. He could feel the gun’s metal seams, marking where the muzzle met the slide. Tim ground it slightly deeper, pressing it hard enough that it moved Jason’s head.
“You gonna keep teasing me or get to the good part?” Jason said, realizing only after he spoke how raspy his voice had already gotten.
“This is the good part,” Tim murmured, dragging the gun up and through Jason’s hair.
“For you, maybe,” Jason scoffed, not shuddering at the feeling of hard metal parting his hair.
“For you, too.” Moving further forward into his space, Tim nudged at Jason’s crotch with a boot-- Jason grunted, realizing with that that he was, in fact, hard. Not desperate, yet, but that pressure had been a sudden relief. Just as quickly, Tim pulled his foot back, keeping his stance steady as he pulled the gun back down over Jason’s brow, carefully avoiding the eye socket.
Still, Jason caught a glimpse of the empty barrel, gaping at him invitingly. He opened his mouth slightly in response, felt the saliva pooling under his tongue.
The gun dragged over his cheek, digging into the fat just hard enough to really feel it. The grooved underside rubbed against his cheekbone. Jason’s lower lip dropped just that much more as he groaned.
Then, contact-- the taste of steel-- as Tim finally put the muzzle to his lips. Jason tried to form a seal around it, mouth opening wider, but Tim pulled it back almost immediately.
“No. Don’t suck until I tell you, just hold still.” Steady, even.
Jason looked up at him. They stared at each other. Deliberately, Jason slackened his jaw, letting his mouth hang open and his tongue peek out, loose and ready. The saliva that had been pooling inside drooled out, and he let it, not watching it fall. A plop sounded as it hit Tim’s boot.
“Good,” Tim said, after a moment, licking his lips in a way that looked reflexive. The gun moved, stealing Jason’s focus even as he watched Tim watch him.
The edge of the muzzle dug into Jason’s lower lip, hard enough to press it against his teeth. Slowly, so slowly, It pushed inside. The hard contours had no give whatsoever, forcing Jason’s mouth wide. He swallowed the spit pooling in his mouth without thinking, and the taste of metal as his tongue went up against the gun sent another pang of heat through his gut.
Tim inhaled.
“Stay relaxed,” he said. Fucked the gun into Jason’s mouth, until it hit the barrier of his throat. Jason suppressed the gag the first time. The second, too. Metal scraped faintly against his soft palate. He couldn’t help it the third time-- the gag forced the gun higher as his tongue went up against the underside, to the point of pain. He groaned around it, garbled and low.
Tim slid the gun back that time, gave him a second. Shoved it in again when Jason flicked his eyes up to look at him. Not quite as deep, but still more than enough to feel.
Tim’s eyes burned into Jason’s mind as his own flinched closed-- he’d been staring, of course. Penetrating deeper than the gun, for sure.
“Suck,” Tim said, the next time he pushed the gun inside.
Eagerly, Jason complied. His lips went tight around the gun as he suckled at it, tasting the metal and remnants of gunpowder. He moaned as he thought of the gun firing, turning his head just a little and licking at the bottom and side. It was too deep to get at the hole, where he knew the taste would be strongest.
“Good.” Tim pulled it back against Jason’s suction, then let Jason chase it back up the barrel, lips forced wide around it. He felt his eyes tear up as it went deep against the back of his mouth again and he gagged again.
“So are you constantly horny while using these, or are you imagining something else inside right now?” Tim pressed a hand against Jason’s cheek, bracing against it as he tugged the gun back out of Jason’s mouth so Jason couldn’t just suck it back down.
Jason’s mouth hung open and he panted, trying to catch breath he hadn’t realized he’d lost. He only opened his eyes again after a few seconds, listing slightly into Tim’s hand where it still held his face.
“Huh?” he asked, dumbly. Already, he’d forgotten what Tim had asked. It hadn’t seemed important.
“Do guns make you horny or is this a proxy thing?” Tim asked, nudging at Jason’s mouth again with the gun. He might have been trying to prompt an answer, but Jason stuck his tongue out, digging it into the barrel and moaning again at the burst of acrid leftover gunsmoke in his mouth.
“Fuck,” Tim said and let Jason pull the gun back inside with his lips. It was heavy and hard to maneuver, but Tim helped him. Jason laved at the front, the small jut of the sight digging into the roof of his mouth. He tipped his head back just enough to give it some space, then ended up licking at it hard enough to undo it a second later.
Jason’s groan was drowned out by Tim’s. A nudge against his crotch drew his attention again, and Jason slid forward just enough to hump against the leg Tim had helpfully provided him, the line where the boot met his pants providing an interesting friction.
The sound of unzipping right next to his ear didn’t hurt, either, and that was when Jason noticed that Tim’s free hand wasn’t on his face anymore. Faint sounds, and then the hand came back, cupping Jason’s chin as Tim thrust the gun in hard and deep.
Jason choked on it again-- felt why Tim had grabbed his chin when more drool slid from his mouth with the force of it. Tim jabbed at the back of his mouth again, prompting another wave of saliva, before his hand vanished and the slick sounds of Tim covering his cock in Jason’s drool started.
Then, a faint click. The safety. Off, now.
Knowing the gun was empty was one thing when it was outside of his mouth, but right now, with gunpowder and metal filling his senses and wet noises coming from his own mouth and Tim’s hand-- it didn’t feel like he knew it was empty. Jason groaned louder, sucked harder.
The hammer cocked back with another crisp sound. Jason ground against Tim’s leg, gasping. He wasn’t sure frotting was even doing anything, his attention entirely occupied by the pistol in his mouth.
A pause, like the moment was stretching. No round was chambered or even in the magazine. Jason gurgled something around the gun, but even he wasn’t sure what he said.
Another inhale from Tim. Jason’s heartbeat hammered louder and louder in his ears. His dick pressed against the seam of his jeans, against the edge of Tim’s leather boots. The gun slid back, pressing down against his bottom lip again.
“Tongue back. Open up. Wide as you can.” Tim’s sentences were fragmented, and he didn’t stop jerking himself off as he spoke, which was clearly distracting him. Jason opened his mouth wide enough that his jaw clicked, only half-noticing it. He stilled, waiting.
An audible swallow from Tim.
“Look me in the eyes,” he said.
Jason opened, mouth drying as he breathed, fast and on edge. Caught Tim’s eyes with his own. Tim looked back-- the movements of his left arm were just visible, his right arm ending in the black of the pistol, glinting from the corner of Jason’s vision.
The click of the trigger, loud against everything. The slide went back and forward, just catching the top of Jason’s upper lip. Even prepared, it hurt like a punch to the mouth .
Jason’s eyes rolled up as he thrust against Tim’s leg, creaming his pants. Helpfully, Tim moved forward-- let Jason take the gun deep again (faintly, he heard the safety clicking back into place), the scrape of it inside against his tongue and palate sending another wave of fire through him. He gasped around it-- gasped again when he felt something hot and wet hit his face. Tim gasped too, groaned like he’d been shot. Jason remembered his hands and grabbed for Tim’s leg, pressing it tighter against himself and holding on for a few last thrusts as he rode the wave.
Tim didn’t seem to mind-- Jason felt another spurt against his chin, a little landing on his open mouth and the gun inside it. He raised one hand up to take Tim’s wrist and pull the gun slowly out, turning his head to lick at Tim’s cock-- the remnants of precome and spit covering just the tip. He laved it clean, only stopping when Tim pushed at his face, overstimulated.
They panted together. Looked at each other again. Tim’s face was red-- neck, too. He rubbed at the come on Jason’s cheek with a finger, thumb glancing against his swollen lips.
“I’ll get the washcloth this time,” he said, and did so.
Jason sat and drifted. Let Tim rub at his face, change his clothes (and even like this, Jason noticed when Tim squirreled his boxers away now). Laid in his bed. Rubbed at his mouth. It hurt to smile, but he still found his lips pulling faintly up. Turned over to look at Tim, who’d fallen asleep next to him. Fell asleep himself.