The how of Baj acquiring the strap isn’t important and certainly doesn’t involve Marco. There is no need, to their mind, to elaborate on details. They’re not germane to the subject at hand, which is the look on Fray’s face when he sees the bulge in their jeans. That’s what Baj is here for. The jump of his eyebrows and the way his mouth parts, just a little, the way this time it’s him on the back foot. It’s so rare that Baj takes him by surprise.
And they do intend to take him.
“Is,” Fray says eventually, after a few seconds’ shocked silence. He pauses, which is not unusual. Around where the pair of them stand on the porch, the wind judders through the branches; warm rain shivers softly onto the roof over their heads. Fray tries again. “Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”
They stare at one another. Baj says, “Why would I have a gun?”
“Uh—”
“It’s a—it’s not a gun—”
“It’s what Mae West says in—”
Fray shuts up; Baj shuts up. The rain falls.
Baj says, “So do you want to mess around, or—”
“Yes,” says Fray, instantly. He sounds like he’s choking on the word. Baj is chiefly impressed that he’s managed to keep his eyes Up Here when they are so clearly magnetized elsewhere. Fray clears his throat and breaks his gaze away, shaking himself. “Yeah. Yes. Um,” he says, and circles around Baj carefully to slip past them, toward the door. “Let me just—meet you upstairs?”
Without waiting for an answer, he slips inside. The screen door bangs shut, and his hurried footsteps quickly fade.
“Meet you upstairs,” Baj echoes.
The bathroom door is shut when Baj gets upstairs, so to the bedroom they go. They fuss with their hair and try to adjust the silicone toy to sit more comfortably against their leg. Is it too big? Baj has no idea. Part of them likes the idea that maybe it is. They unbuckle their jeans, loosen the fly.
Footsteps, stopping as Baj turns. Fray looks them up and down, making a show of biting his lip. “Looks good on you,” he says, jerking his chin toward the peek of something shiny and nearly black through their zipper. “Show me?”
Baj hums. Fray’s excitement, while not overt, is plain to see to their practiced eye. It scratches something deep in the back of their brain. “You first,” Baj says, and cocks their head to one side. Their face, already too hot for any normal human, flushes with enough heat to fog the air.
The smile Fray tries to suppress escapes containment moments later. “Bossy, huh?” he asks with a feigned innocence.
Baj fixes him with their gaze. They gesture, impatient. “I’m waiting.”
Fray’s eyes lid. His hair falls forward to cover his face as he pulls off his shirt. The jeans follow, peeled off with not quite as much grace as they think Fray intended. He hooks his thumb into the band of his underwear and halts, hips swaying ever so little. “Ask nice,” he says, or tries to say, before Baj closes the scant distance between them and seizes the band where it crosses his hip. Their hand balls into a fist; there is a flash of a foul smell that soon becomes that of charcoal. When they open their hand again, the fabric has turned to ash. Fray stares. “I liked those,” he says, but distantly. Moreover, his pale face has begun to go very red.
Baj’s blood surges in a way they did not expect. There’s relief in it, seeing Fray on the back foot, Fray wide-eyed. They roll the idea of feeling guilty around their head for a moment before discarding it. By the wobbly grin on his face, he certainly likes it.
The briefs fall to the ground, unceremoniously discarded. Fray steps out of them, leaning in close enough to brush his chest to theirs. “Better?” he asks.
Baj hums, and lets Fray catch their lips with his for a fleeting kiss. “Go ahead,” they say against his cheek, tilting their hips toward him. “Touch it.
No further invitation is needed. Fray shivers. His head bows and he paws at their fly, pulling it open and carefully freeing the toy. “Bigger than I remember,” Fray remarks, and Baj swats at him. A laugh, and Fray catches the hand, interlacing their fingers. They stay like that as Fray sinks to his knees, looking a vivid mix of thrilled and embarassed and hungry. With his free hand he takes hold of the toy, pumping experimentally. “Already hard, huh?”
“What if,” Baj says, shooing Fray’s hand from the cock to brace it square against his lips, “we stop talking for a little while?”
Fray smirks, pressing a kiss to the tip of the toy. “If it means you’ll knock me up, sure.”
This nearly shatters Baj’s facade, and it’s clear Fray’s looking for cracks in the armor, what with the shit-eating grin. Baj stares blankly at him for a long moment before saying, “We need to get you fixed.”
“Yeah,” Fray agrees, and opens his mouth.