Downloading... [Sheriarty AU] {Completed - Edited}

Chapter Six: Not A Date

Sherlock laughs and nudges Jim with a teasing smirk "I thought this wasn't a date?"  

"It isn't," Jim grumbles as he tears the note down. 

He reads it over once more before screwing it up and throwing it over his shoulder, not caring about making a mess. 

'Remember my rule, Jim. NO SEX' 

Sherlock follows Jim inside the small storage room. It really wasn't made for two people to be inside, as Jim discovered when he turned to hand Sherlock ear muffs and ended up being pressed chest to chest with the lanky detective. 

His face glows again as he steps back and shoves the ear muffs into the other man's hand. 

Jim hears Sherlock walk away, laughing again. With a huff, Jim balls his hands into fists and reminds himself that if he slaps Sherlock it's possible that his computers will pay for it. 

But dear God, he wanted to slap that man. 

"James!" Sherlock calls suddenly "Are y--" 

"For fuck's sake, Sherlock! My name is Jim!" Jim shouts back, cutting the other off. 

Much to his annoyance, he hears Sherlock laughing again. 

Don't slap him. Don't slap him. Don't slap him. 

Jim chants the phase a few times over, reminding himself every time that he just got pretty, new monitors that he'd wanted for a very long time. Jim was so busy trying to calm himself down, he completely missed it when Sherlock repeated the question. 

Sherlock appears in the doorway, smirking. 

"Just going to stand there all day or are we actually going to shoot? It is the reason we're here, after all" 

Jim almost, almost, lifted his hand and slapped that stupid (still oddly beautiful) face. 

With another huff, Jim picks up the guns and pushes past Sherlock, probably with more force than needed. He was pleased to see Sherlock rubbing his shoulder when he glanced back. 

"I'm starting to worry you brought me here to shoot me..." Sherlock trails off as they enter the range. 

"It's tempting," Jim replies with a smirk. 

They ended up taking lane - Jim had no clue what to call these little alcoves - three and four. Sherlock had his ear muffs on and the gun aimed perfectly before Jim could blink. 

Jim slips on his own ear muffs and tries desperately to remember what his uncle had told him about guns. Aim and shoot. Easy enough, right? 

Jim looks at the gun and fumbles for a moment, trying to hold it properly. It felt all wrong under his fingertips. Without meaning to, Jim's eyes flashes towards the office where he knew his uncle had a computer. 

Keyboard over a gun any day. 

Warm, large, hands slide over Jim's own, causing him to flinch backwards. His back hits Sherlock's chest and he looks up, over his right shoulder, to see Sherlock smiling softly at him. 

Their eyes met for just a second before Sherlock's flash forward and he repositions Jim's hands on the gun. 

Jim watches what he does and nods when he feels confident he's holding it right. Although, he could feel Sherlock's warm chest pressed to his back and it was more than distracting - especially the way Sherlock's heart seemed to be hammering into Jim's shoulder blade. 

Sherlock's large hands linger a moment before he squeezes Jim's smaller hands and backs away, picking up his own gun and shooting at his own targets, eyes forward. Jim watches him for a moment, scalding himself when he found himself describing Sherlock with a gun as sexy.