“Hold it like this,” he murmurs, positioning your fingers correctly over the gun. “Put your—yeah, like that.”

Both of you are vigilantes—however, while Jason has a wide variety of guns and other weapons at his disposal, you mostly rely on your quick wit and brute strength, aside from the small dagger here or there. While it’s admirable, it’s also not totally reliable. Your pure strength cannot save you from deadly weapons or supervillains all the time. Since you don’t know how to use a gun, you naturally asked your boyfriend (who is very good with guns) for help.

You two are outside; Jason has arranged a row of bottles for you to practice your aim with. So far, you’ve hit one—after a million or so tries. Still, it’s good process.

His hands are tightly secured on yours, making a couple adjustments on your positioning to make sure you don’t somehow shoot yourself in the process of his training. His chest is pressed up against your back, his mouth right next to your ear.

“Okay. There we go,” he speaks up after a few seconds of silence. “Now just pull the trigger, and shoot. You won’t hurt yourself. Promise.”