Stefan pulled a camo jacket from his pack and put it on, looking very much like the real thing, though there were no insignia or patches on the uniform. This was play gear.
Frank forced himself to stop staring, then gestured for Stefan to follow him upstairs. The steps creaked under both their feet, and he tried not to think about how long it had been since anyone had been to the upper floor.
He nodded down the hall. “Bedroom’s all the way at the end. You can change in there.”
“Great. Thanks.” Stefan started towards the bedroom, and Frank cringed. It was weird enough having someone in this house—worse that he’d featured in a jerk-off fantasy. Frank shook himself out of his thoughts and went back downstairs. Moments later, Stefan joined him, this time fully decked out in camouflage.
“You bring some lube and condoms? You’ll probably need them.”
Stefan straightened and gave him a quirked grin. “Got it.” He patted the jacket’s front pocket. “Plastic zips to restrain, too.”
Oh shit.
“Pay attention to the safewords.”
“You don’t have to tell me.”
“Good. All right, car’s in the garage. I’m just getting my bag.”
They dropped their equipment into the boot of Frank’s car and headed out to the field.
“So you have your own gear?” Stefan asked, gesturing over his shoulder.
Frank nodded. “That rental shit’s a waste of money.”
“It’s usually crap, too.” Stefan laughed quietly. “At least in the States. Every time I played there, I think I spent more time fixing their shit than I did playing.” He eyed Frank. “Do they at least provide decent paint here?”
“Best you can buy.”
“Good. My marker doesn’t get along with cheap paint.”
“Balls break in the barrel?”
“That’s why I call it the Ball Breaker.”
Frank groaned at the pun. “Cute.”
Stefan sat a little lower in the seat, settling in for the ride. “So this is really a kinky paintball club or something?”
“Basically.”
“How the hell did something like that even get started?”
Frank chuckled. “Bunch of guys who liked sex and paintball decided to combine the two.”
“Okay, but how do you get sex and paintball into the same conversation?” Stefan glanced at him. “I mean, I like football too, but—”
“Football? Or that shit you Americans play in tights and helmets?”
“Hey. Hey. Fuck you.” Stefan laughed. “And yes, American football. But, like I was saying, I like football, and I like sex, but I never sat around with a bunch of guys and said, ‘Hey, let’s play flag football, but when you get someone’s flag, you also get his ass.’”
“That could be fun, actually.” Frank rested a hand on top of the steering wheel. “If it wasn’t such a stupid sport. Rugby’s a lot more fun.”
“You know, just for that, I am shooting you in the ass today.”
“I’d like to see you try.”
“What?” Stefan leaned forwards, eyes fixing on the floorboards by his feet. “Oh, hey, you dropped something.” He reached down, then withdrew his hand, middle finger up. “I believe this gauntlet’s yours.”
Frank chuckled.
Stefan sat back again. “Anyway. The origin of sex and paintball. Go.”
“Okay, we had some guys with a soldier/military fetish.” Frank glanced over his shoulder before he changed lanes. “And there were some fantasies about capturing, being captured, stuff like that. So we kept trying to come up with ways to play that out, and eventually, someone mentioned it would be hotter and more intense if there was actually a sense of danger. Like, incoming enemy fire.”
“Spoken like people who’ve never been in real combat.”
Frank thought he saw Stefan shudder. “Yeah, well, we gave it a try, and it wound up being pretty damned hot.”
Stefan looked right at him, and Frank was thankful he had the road to hold his attention. “So who do you like to be? Captor or captive?”
He hesitated. “The ref, usually.”
“Really? What fun is that?”
Frank threw him a glance. “Spoken like someone who doesn’t know what forty-plus feels like.” That was an easy enough excuse, anyway.
“Forty? You’re kidding.”
“You’ve looked at me, right? I’m getting grey on top. I can still sustain an erection, but by gay standards, I’m from the bloody Stone Age.” As good a reason as any. The more good reasons he could find . . . “And I’m okay with that. Being twenty was shit.”
“You’re fit. Fitter than several younger guys I’ve had.” Stefan paused. “Besides, I like older men.”
Frank glanced at him. “Daddy fetish?”
Stefan was silent for a few seconds. “I like confidence. You know, the kind that comes from being comfortable in your own skin and not giving a fuck about what everyone else thinks.” He turned to Frank again. “And, face it, man. You’re hot.”
Frank swallowed. “I . . . thanks.”
“So why the hell don’t you play?”
Frank tapped the wheel with two fingers. “Because I don’t have the stamina to run around all night. I don’t get carried away. I make sure people are all safe, sane, and consensual.”
“You ever get off? With somebody else?”
“Done it. Know my way round sex, thanks.”