Pick your poison

[Jack Ripley]

The clothes he'd worn to game-night/date-night were currently folded over the bathroom countertop, since Jack didn't know what else to do with them. He should have stripped down and told Brayden to trade off--the old clothes for the new clothes. But ah, well. Honestly, he could have gone home himself, showered, and dressed himself. Instead, he was lying on his back on Brayden's threadbare couch and laughing aloud at his phone. Leave it to Marge to check out his boyfriend's ass.

Then there was a knock at Brayden's door and Jack looked over, puzzled. Was that... food? Did Brayden end up just ordering pizza like a bachelor would? Not when he had Jack around! He could easily feed them something much better--oh, wait. That was Brayden.

Jack rolled off the couch, the towel barely hanging onto his hips at this point. He opened the door as if the place belonged to him and he eyed Brayden, standing there with a pile of Jack's nice clothes in his arms. Jack reached out to relieve him off the pile, moving aside to let the man into his own home.

"What took so long? Did Marge try to proposition you?"

[Brayden Smith]

Oh thank God, Jack heard him. The door opened, Bray started to smile with relief, then he saw Jack's half-naked state and. Oh look, was that his couch all the way back there? That was his couch! Look how exciting that couch was! It needed his full attention immediately. Jack's naked body barely hidden under a bath towel that hung loose around his hips, nearly falling off? But the couch! His couch!

"Sorry, she. Grilled me about what happened after she left," he muttered as he stepped inside, carefully avoiding Jack. Not only Jack's gaze but Jack in his entirety. His gloriously naked entirety. There was no reason for it—didn't they wake up naked? Didn't Jack go down on him last night? (Which he didn't remember but he believed Jack when he said it happened.) Weren't they lovers now?

But somehow Bray couldn't get past his shyness at the sight of another nearly naked man. His nearly naked man, but. They hadn't been properly intimate yet so it still felt odd. "And she. She touched my ass." That he half-muttered, half-sighed. Bray couldn't help sneaking a peek over at Jack, then quickly looked away again to give him some privacy. He realized in the back of his mind how absurdly he was acting, but it also wasn't something he could control. A naked Jack barely covered by a loose towel made his heart palpitate and leap around in his chest like a bucking bronco.

It wasn't that Jack was displeasing, either. No, the main problem was that he was altogether too pleasing and almost overwhelmingly desirable.

[Jack Ripley]

"Oh?'

Well, that would explain her comment about the wings. Which Jack was going to have to apologize for because he didn't know what fairy etiquette entailed. Once the door was closed, Brayden seemed to be revolving around Jack. Slowly, he followed Brayden back into the living room, wondering why he was hurrying so fast to make it to the couch. Meanwhile, Jack was sorting through the clothes and carefully placing them on the back of the couch in order of when he'd put them on.

Ew, those underwear. Jack made a slight face and let them drop somewhere on the ground, as if he'd "lost" them. Then he picked up his trousers and he laughed at poor Brayden's muttering before he made a sympathetic face. It was probably lost on Brayden. For some reason... he was keeping his gaze fixed firmly away from Jack. Hm.

"Do you want me to go over there and tell her to keep her hands off my man?" he asked in amusement--as he let the towel drop. Kicking it aside, he stepped into his trousers. There were pants that could be worn without underwear beneath. Typically, wool was a bad one for it--itchy. But these were made of a special wool/cotton blend and they felt quite nice against his naked skin. Careful with the zipper. Button up. Then...

"It's okay to look now. I put it away. Although," he said as he picked up the plum shirt and slipped it over his arms, "I find it slightly insulting you don't like it. I'm very fond of yours."

[Brayden Smith]

Laughter. Ah, the butt of jokes once again. Bray smiled, though, down at the couch as he plucked a stray thread off of it—probably from one of the blankets he liked to curl up with. Some of them were quite frayed; he needed to replace them. It wasn't as if he couldn't afford them, either. He saved diligently since he didn't go out, barely treated himself and only existed to work and come home to sleep.

It wasn't half bad to have Jack laugh at him, or laugh at his expense. Bray liked that he brought laughter to Jack's life too, because Jack brought a lot of mirth into his. Give and take, right? It was a nice feeling. He heard cloth rustling and felt his face heating up when he noticed the corner of a towel on the floor. Ah. Ooh. Naked boyfriend nearby.

Abort.

"No, no," he tried to sound casual as he picked at the snack bowls, stacking them together to bring to the kitchen. The popcorn was stale by now, the water lukewarm. The wine bottle... Bray sighed softly as he picked it up off the floor and stood it upon the coffee table to be disposed of later. "I'm sure she was just fooling around." Which was a funny thing to say about Marge—fooling around like a kid might—but... that was probably what it was. Another person poking fun at him. Not maliciously—never maliciously, he felt. Not towards him.

He stood there waiting for Jack to finish dressing himself, then tentatively turned only his head to check. "What? My what?" Bray blinked, drawing a blank. Jack liked his...? It? Bray liked anything of Jack's of course! He didn't get it. He should have—it was obvious when Jack said that he put it away—but Bray was all kinds of flummoxed in that moment, what with being groped by Marge and seeing Jack nearly naked and... and having Jack in his life on a permanent basis and just... everything.

[Jack Ripley]

Poor Brayden. Marge wasn't just fooling around. She saw something she liked and she tapped it. Some people would have been pretty angry about it, angry even on Brayden's behalf. It was a form of sexual harassment, especially if Brayden didn't like it. Jack didn't mind it but they weren't the same people.

"Really, I can talk to her if it bothers you."

Marge would be Marge but he highly doubted if Jack told her Brayden didn't like it, that she would continue. She was abrasive and outgoing, stubborn and a force to be reckoned with but deep down, Jack knew she had a soft heart. If she didn't, she wouldn't be babysitting their crazy son right now.

But the other topic at hand, that one... was one for the boyfriend. Brayden was absolutely clueless. Confusion was written all over his face as his head turned toward him but the rest of him remained locked down and ready to make a break for it. Like he thought Jack was going to take his pants right back off. Jack reached for him, shirt fluttering slightly since he hadn't buttoned it yet. Pulled Brayden in and nuzzled him before kissing his cheek and resting his own cheek against the top of Brayden's head.

"Oh, my sweet summer child. You have a lot to learn."

[Brayden Smith]

"...no it's okay." He couldn't say he didn't mind or that it didn't make him uncomfortable, but he didn't want to upset Marge. Not because he feared her but because he understood that that was the way Marge was. She was fierce. Fearsome. But also kind; she took care of Jack, Bray had seen her over on several occasions, fussing over him on the way in and out. She had a real fondness for Jack and also, Bray thought, for Allie and even him. She bullied him but she seemed like the type of person to bully the people she genuinely liked because she felt close to them.

"Thanks anyway, though." Why make a mountain out of a molehill? Besides, making Jack tell her was awkward when Bray could have said something himself. He was about to turn away from the lovely expanse of chest—a lot of chest underneath the fluttering purple shirt—but Jack pulled at him and he automatically turned into Jack. It felt natural to be embraced and for a moment Bray forgot his confusion.

Pressed right up close to Jack's bare chest, Bray half-deliriously felt the heat of his body through the thin fabric of his own t-shirt. He liked it. A lot. He smiled with his lips pressed to the front of Jack's shoulder, imparting a kiss as Jack's cheek landed on top of his head. "I was... born in winter," he objected, since he knew what sweet summer child meant and he was emphatically not one of those clueless dopes.

He—all right, so what if he was? Jack said the most outrageous things sometimes! It would take some getting used to! Bray nuzzled against his chest though, cheek pressed to it. Warm and solid, so real, so present. He couldn't help but smile to himself. "You're a good professor though, so... I'm sure you can teach me all I need to know."

Now that.

Was smooth.

He thought.

[Jack Ripley]

"Not what I meant, sweetie," he said, stroking Brayden's hair.

Jack had nearly forgotten the inappropriate humor that led to the current conversation. Then Brayden was praising his work and he raised a brow in question, even though Brayden couldn't see it. What did his job as a professor... Ah. Ha. Jack let out a laugh at that.

"How do you teach a man to catch an innuendo?" he posed the question to himself. Not one he would have taught in class, for certain. (He would promptly be fired for inappropriate language and behavior. Even Jack knew better than that!)

"But listen... don't be afraid of my body. I understand it's been, what three years? But I'm your boyfriend and I promise... you have my permission for whatever you're thinking about when you're blushing. Mkay?" Another kiss to the head. So chaste, really, in juxtaposition with the words coming out of his mouth.

[Brayden Smith]

"A--what?" Catch an innuendo? Bray had to wrack his brain on that one--and he didn't quite get it still. The moment was past, anyway; if he didn't catch it while it was being said, it was too late. Ah, that was the problem of being Brayden. Things so often went over his head. He suspected that if he were more receptive to things like flirting and innuendo, he might not have to wait three years--

Wait a minute.

How did Jack know about the three years of solitude?! Bray was aghast. That must have been something he said while he was drunk! Ohh, he was never drinking again! That wasn't something he necessarily wanted Jack to find out. Three years was practically forever, wasn't it? Most relationships didn't last three years... Bray sighed. Then looked up, brows lifting.

"You..." His voice was faint, surprised. "You called me your... Or--I mean you called yourself my--"

Boyfriend!

[Jack Ripley]

Exactly. See? Brayden missed it and now it was gone. That was flirting in a nutshell, actually. If the other person didn't catch on, it made the whole exercise moot. Why it didn't stop Jack... the world may never know. (Or it was because he was a lovestruck idiot, just the way Marge observed. Some things weren't so easily dropped. Also, he worked with Brayden. Also, he lived across the courtyard from Brayden. It was kind of impossible to pretend he didn't exist.)

Jack didn't know why Brayden went so silent for a long moment but he supposed he was doing that Very Brayden Thing he did where he overthought every single word. Maybe that was why the flirting hardly worked with him. People who naturally flirted just... flirted right back. And people who overthought every single thing... completely missed the message altogether.

Annnnd it sounded like that was exactly what was happening right now. Jack sighed and tilted his head back.

"Yesss," he elongated the word like a snake. "I did." When he took in another breath and righted himself, looking back at Brayden and his astonishment, he grasped his face in both his hands. Oh if he wasn't mildly infuriating sometimes--!

"Did we not decide to be in a relationship?" Or was that whole weird awkward conversation they had about something else entirely? Oh what he wouldn't give to be in Brayden's head for half a minute just to loosen things up a little.

[Brayden Smith]

Jack was dramatically Jack and Brayden was confusedly Brayden. And everything in the universe was right again. He stared at Jack's reaction, then stared some more at him when he confirmed his own words. Yes. He did. They did--they did agree to be in a relationship but it hadn't really yet sunk in for Bray. Not that he was waiting for the other shoe to drop but 'boyfriend' made them more official somehow.

For all of the flowery language and all the admissions they exchanged, boyfriend did it. Such a simple word, but it shook everything up for Bray. He wondered--really, he did--how it didn't do the same thing to Jack but then he realized that Jack probably had more boyfriends than he did in the past. Certainly, Jack had one before he came to Hazleton. Meanwhile... three years for Bray...

He tried to nod but Jack held his head in place. "We-we did. We did agree." He blinked. "We--are--" Oh. There it went--now it sank in properly. He thought he got it earlier but now the full weight of what happened struck him like a brick to the face. Boyfriend. Not to be afraid--that part he mildly contested because he wasn't afraid as such, merely hesitant.

"I'm--I--yeah." Why didn't it sink in when they said 'I love you' to one another? Bray didn't know how his brain worked sometimes. He did, however, know that he had never wanted to kiss someone as much as he wanted to kiss Jack--and he did. He did. He kissed Jack hard, fiercely, and when he pulled back, he was grinning so hard his mouth hurt. Or that was from the kiss maybe. Maybe both. "It's really... happening... isn't it? We're boyfriends."

[Jack Ripley]

Shit. Did he have it wrong this whole time? He was starting to think he had it wrong the whole time and that their wires crossed in the worst way. If so, Jack had to salvage himself from this heinous mistake. But he was pretty damn sure that Brayden put it out there and Jack agreed. Wasn't that how it happened? Or was Brayden asking for something else when he wanted to give it a "shot"?

Before Jack could mitigate the damage and control the impending shrapnel, Brayden finally spoke. And he claimed he agreed but he still had that weird deer-in-the-headlights look about him, as if he wasn't sure. Jack dropped his hands.

Kiss. A kiss. Another real kiss. And this time it was Brayden grinning like a little cheshire cat. Well all right then.

"Yes...?" Jack said with an uncertain smile. Brayden was really swinging around on the will he/won't he scale. But he said it with his own grinning mouth. They were boyfriends. It sounded almost juvenile but it made Jack laugh nonetheless, relief settling in. Okay. Finally. Were they on the same page or was Brayden going to pop out with another curve ball?

"So," he said, gathering back his social confidence and stepping back to start buttoning his shirt. "Get dressed, boyfriend. We're going on a real date."

[Brayden Smith]

For one single moment, Bray saw something he recognized in Jack because he knew it so well in himself--uncertainty. And while he didn't mean to throw their newfound relationship status into doubt, he thought that it was... nice to know that even unflappable Jack could feel something as Brayden-like as uncertainty. It made him feel less out of Bray's league--less of a star, more of a man, solid and real and in love. Perfect Jack was nice to look at and admire, but Jack with all of his hidden flaws and in these more human moments was infinitely more boyfriend material.

Bray laughed with him; they were on the same page on this one. Finally.

"Oh am I not...? Should I change?" He thought what he was wearing was fine--it was either something like a sweater, a cardigan or work clothes for Bray. He didn't have beautiful fabrics and silks to slip into for dates. Bray had no fashion sense but he wasn't a slob, either. He was just a normal man with normal tastes in normal, store-bought clothes.

As he watched Jack changing and putting on a million different things--that somehow pulled together into one effortless ensemble--he sighed. At himself. Frumpy and 'normal' didn't exactly cut it next to a man who looked like he walked straight off the pages of a glossy magazine. "Do you... want to pick out... what I should wear?" Hopefully Jack found something he liked... but Bray had serious doubts. But he could still hope!

[Jack Ripley]

"Yes. Absolutely."

He needed to change. Now. Did Brayden actually go on dates dressed like a football coach? Jack, meanwhile, did slip effortlessly into the various parts of his ensemble that he'd ordered Brayden and Marge to gather for him. God, he was lucky that he had a running catalogue of his own closet in his head. If he had Brayden choose, he'd be wearing the equivalent of those hideous boxer-briefs on the outside. But Marge wouldn't do him that dirty. Surely.

Adjusting his tie, he eyed Brayden. Was that a trick question, asking if he wanted to pick something out for Brayden to wear? Without answering verbally--he did sweep his gaze over Brayden critically--he pivoted on his heel and headed straight for Brayden's closet.

"Do you even have any date outfits?" he asked, because a man that hadn't dated in three years probably didn't. Nothing in Brayden's closet was coming close to impressing Jack. Seriously. They were just boring. It looked like Brayden didn't go out on a limb when it came to colors and patterns. And everything felt the same, too. No varieties in the fabrics.

"Why is everything in here in the same color palette?" he demanded to know as he turned toward Brayden. Everything seemed to be so muted! All these dull browns and tans and greys. Some plaids. Ugh. And they all looked like they came from a secondhand thrift shop! "You're not giving me much to work with here."

There was a single suit jacket. Jack looked it over with an inscrutable expression. Putting it back, he left the closet like a nightmare. "Let's just go," he said in a tone that could have also said you're hopeless. But now he was certain what kind of gifts his boyfriend was getting from him in the future. As he passed Brayden, though, he touched his hair before kissing him.

"You're lucky you're so pretty."

[Brayden Smith]

"I... did?" Bray might have something kicking around the back of his closet that he thought was a nice date-night outfit. Someone gifted him a nice navy-blue, ribbed knit sweater and he had dark slacks to go with it. Presentable, he thought. Jack apparently thought otherwise and the longer he sifted through Bray's closet, the worse Bray felt.

Color palette. His clothes had color though... But apparently not enough color. Nothing like what Jack wore on even a daily basis. Bray rubbed the side of his arm and looked away--not hurt, not angry or upset because he did ask Jack to help him choose something. He was just embarrassed. And he knew he wasn't adventurous. Colors and patterns didn't look... right on him. He couldn't pull them off the way Jack or even Marge did.

"Sorry," he said softly and meant it as Jack denounced everything in his closet. There wasn't much for a fashionista to work with in there, huh? Bray wondered if he should go out and get something rainbow... And he did have that one turqoise tie that he bought to impress Jack from the early days of their friendship. But why would he wear a gaudy tie on a date...? He wouldn't.

Bray waited around until everything had been picked through and offered Jack another apologetic smile. He leaned up into the kiss though. "Me? Pretty? But that's..." Bray trailed after him, sliding a hand into Jack's. "That's you. I mean--handsome. Really handsome. Pretty too but you know. You're. You look. Amazing." And Jack was always, always eminently presentable. Bray paused at the door to grab his keys, remembering with a little laugh how upset he had been to discover Jack's unique lockpicking skills.

"Does this mean... you wouldn't like me if I was unfashionable and not pretty?"

[Jack Ripley]

No, no, no. Brayden really had to stop all the apologizing. So he didn't have a grasp on fashion. What normal man did, really? Although... he had to say, he expected more from a fairy. Those gorgeous wings had nothing on anything Jack wore. Shouldn't something like that bring out the flamboyance in Brayden? Jack thought a fairy might be that--flamboyant. But it turned out that real life wasn't the same as the stories. For one thing, Brayden wasn't the size of Thumbelina. For another, apparently fairy wings were very private things.

Jack still remembered the way it felt, though, to touch his wings. Warm. And delicate. Surging with... magic, he now knew. Like nothing he'd ever felt before in his entire life. And here Brayden was, just sitting on that secret. How wonderful a secret it was that he kept, while Jack's were still literal skeletons. Shameful. Ugly.

He smiled. Of course he looked amazing. Jack spent time on his appearance. And he preened under the attention it garnered him. As a child, he was always so ashamed of himself but he hid it behind a veneer of bratty little attitude. He was ashamed of who he was, where he came from. But he rose from the ashes as a phoenix and with every intention of remaining fabulous. Sometimes, it was all he had--that which people saw on the outside. His imperiousness, his confidence, his style. Not everybody could get away dressed as flamboyantly as he did. But over time, he thought less of what other people thought about his choices and more about how he felt when he put those clothes on.

He felt good. Confident. And that confidence seemed to draw people in. For better or worse.

"Oh honey, you're already unfashionable," he said as he patted Brayden's cheek. "And I love you all the same."

He didn't know what to say about the pretty remark. Would there be this much chemistry between them if he didn't find Brayden reasonably attractive? Probably not but he had a feeling that would just hurt Brayden's feelings.