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Ethan laughed, dropped comfortably into a chair at their little table, and set his gun down neatly on it. Victor was still laughing, himself-- a breathless, childish giggle of exhilaration and delight.
"C'mon, Doctor F, sit down," Ethan urged, gesturing to the chair next to his. "Your lesson ain't complete until you learn to load it."
"But Sir Malcolm--"
"Fuck Sir Malcolm. Anyways, this part don't involve shooting."
Victor shrugged, nodded, dropped bonelessly into the opposite chair, squinting down the gun at the far wall like an overenthusiastic child playing cops and robbers.
"Woah there, hey now, don't go shooting out the windows! Careful, careful..." He caught Victor's wrist and guided it gently down to the table, which Victor allowed with minimal glaring.
"I'm not a child," he protested, struggling to maintain a frown.
"If I thought you were, I wouldn't teach you to shoot."
Victor acknowledged this with a reluctantly amused little nod. "Alright. How do I load it?"
"When you pulled back the hammer to fire it, did you feel two little clicks on the way back?"
"Maybe..." Victor fondled the hammer with his thumb. "I was distracted."
"Well I'm gonna need you to try it again-- pull it back one click..." He demonstrated. "And you're still safe. Pull it back another... And then, see this button here? Push it forward, and the cylinder," he pushed it out, spun it easily. "Comes right out. Load it up, and it snaps back in. Got it?"
"Got it," Victor replied, somewhat preemptively.
"You only got it back one click there, Doctor. A little ways more. There you go."
Victor nodded, frowning, and managed to remove the cylinder with a minimum of fumbling.
Ethan pushed a box of ammunition towards him. "Now these here are Colt .45s," he offered, gesturing with his own gun. "These are five and a half inch barrels-- artillery model. I use the seven and a half for sharpshooting-- a longer barrel reduces the recoil, that kick when you fire, so you can shoot more accurate. These are single action revolvers, so you have to cock it-- pull the hammer back-- before you shoot it each time. If you're carryin' two at a time, you'd want double action. But I don't think you will be."
Ethan smiled, but Victor was too enraptured by the gun in his hands to look up. He slipped bullet after bullet into their little slots with careful fingers and clicked the cylinder delicately back into place. His fingers curled around the barrel and slid down it.
"Now the Colt--" Ethan's voice wavered slightly as he watched. "Uh, the Colt's standard issue for the US Army, and..." Victor slid the pads of his fingers back up the cool metal and swallowed hard. The look on his face-- the faint curl of his lips, the wild light in his eyes-- was starting to worry Ethan. "You alright there, Doc?"
"Yes." Victor hefted the weapon, a little bit breathless, and pointed it at Ethan.
"Hey now, Doctor, that ain't funny-- the damn thing's dangerous. Put it down."
Victor stood abruptly, pressed the muzzle of the gun under Ethan's chin and forced him to his feet.
Ethan tipped his head back nervously, scrambled upright. "Vic. Victor, stop. Put it down."
Victor ignored him, backed him slowly into the wall and shifted the gun to point at his temple, instead, letting the muzzle drag across his cheek. He looked a little mad, wide-eyed and dazed and smiling and breathing hard. He brought up his other hand, pressed the hammer back one click.
Ethan's breath caught in his throat. "Victor. Please."
A second click. Victor's breathing was wild now, unsteady, almost panting.
Ethan stared down at him.
The third click. Victor made a strangled sound in the back of his throat and surged up, kissed him hard and clumsily on the mouth. He pulled the trigger, and there was a hollow sound as the firing pin struck air. The cylinder turned. The hammer dropped. Ethan clutched at Victor, kissed him desperately, bit viciously at Victor's lower lip as he pulled away.
"You crazy sonuvabitch," he panted out, seizing Victor's wrist and prying the gun out of his grasp. "That wasn't fucking funny."
Victor didn't seem to mind, letting the thing drop into Ethan's hand and clutching at his lapels, instead, leaning up for another kiss.
Ethan obliged him, hungrily, pulling him in with a hand on the back of his neck. "You're crazy," he growled out again, bumping the end of his nose against Victor's. "You coulda asked for a kiss, if that's what you wanted." He tugged Victor in sharply, throwing him off-balance and taking the opportunity to push him against the wall, instead.
Victor laughed breathlessly, near hysterically, leaning back against the wall as though he couldn't quite trust his knees. "It was worth it for the look on your face," he gasped out, with a smug smile.
"You coulda fucking killed me."
"Don't be dramatic. I only loaded five bullets. I knew the empty slot was lined up with the barrel."
Ethan grabbed his jaw roughly, met his eyes. "You can't play around like that. It ain't safe."
"You could have stopped me."
"I didn't want to hurt you. I was tryin' to trust you, Doc. You don't make it easy."
Victor's lip curled, his eyebrows raised, and he opened his mouth.
Ethan kissed him.
Whatever snide remark had been pending, Victor forwent it in favor of the kiss, which was softer this time, almost tender. Ethan's broad hand slid along his jaw, down his neck, and the weight of the man pressed him back into the wall.
"What Miss Ives said," Ethan started softly, breaking the kiss and nosing affectionately at his cheek. "That first day, to you... 'Virgin doctor'-- did she mean...?"
"Yes." Victor's voice was just as soft, but a bit more irritable. "Yes, I'm a virgin. Why?"
"Just thought I'd ask. But you've been kissed before, surely-- a handsome thing like you, and smart as can be..."
Victor blushed, two awkward splotches of red high on his cheeks. "You sound like my grandmother. No, I haven't. Hadn't."
"Damn," Ethan sighed, pulling back to smile at him and leaning in again for another kiss, soft and sweet. "Wish I'd known that sooner. Would've been a little nicer."
"No. It was fine."
"You liked that?" Ethan raised his eyebrows, grinned, buried his face in Victor's neck to kiss and nip at untouched skin. Victor gave a little yelp and a strangled laugh and tossed his head back, bouncing it off the wall with a painful-sounding thunk. Ethan pulled away quickly, cradling the back of Victor's head and feeling for the inevitable bruise.
"Shit," Victor breathed out, laughing helplessly, then hissing in displeasure when Ethan's fingers found a sore spot.
"Sorry," Ethan mumbled, with a smile. "You okay?" He seemed to be trying not to laugh, himself.
"Your stupid mustache," Victor managed, irritable but smiling.
"You ticklish, Doc?" Ethan smiled back at him, stole another kiss.
"Shut up."
There was a moment of silence. Ethan cradled the back of Victor's slightly bruised skull, and Victor leaned his forehead lightly against Ethan's. It was a comfortable silence.
"I'm honored, you know," Ethan murmured at length.
Victor's eyes opened slowly. "What?"
"That I got to be your first kiss." He hurried to continue before Victor could reply. "Even if you didn't mean a thing by it. It don't have to mean anything. There aren't too many options around here, and Miss Ives sorta ratted me out, before. Not that I blame her. But 'm honored. In spite of the whole bit where it was at gunpoint." He broke into a smile again, fond and a little bit amused. "That bit's even sort of flattering, if you're thinking about it right."
"It feels good." Victor confessed, thoughtfully, then continued, "Having that kind of power. My work involves something like it-- power over a human life-- but a gun is..."
"And here I thought you meant kissing me," Ethan interrupted with a smile.
Victor hesitated, then his lips quirked slightly. "I like that kind of power, too."