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All things considered, Baku has been doing a frankly phenomenal job of keeping himself together.
It's been nonstop recently: fights, betrayals, truces, kidnappings, rescues, revelations about his family, losing his powers, getting them back… too much, too much for anyone. And, like anyone, he has his coping mechanisms. Being the "invincible agent" grants him a sort of mental armor he can slip into in times of crisis, lets the strikes flow over him without knocking him down. But with another day gone and his body at rest, all his problems, frustrations, even nagging thoughts are free to bang around his skull like shoes in the wash.
He does know one surefire way of releasing some tension.
The doors to Baku's subconscious open without him touching them. Sieg is sitting atop Zero's old desk again, kicking his feet off the side. It's fast become a favorite spot of his- highest point in the base, Baku supposes, both literally and figuratively. As he spots Baku, he grins, and when the young agent blinks Sieg is on the ground-level coffee table with his legs crossed. He waggles his fingers in a girlish wave. "Heyyyy."
"Shut up," Baku mutters, striding across the room and pulling Sieg into a kiss.
"Mph!" The older man makes a noise of surprise against Baku's lips, but quickly gets with the program, grabbing his collar and pressing back into him with equal enthusiasm. He shoves his tongue into Baku's mouth, clashes their teeth together, a little too rough. Just the way Baku has always pictured him being.
A seed of discomfort digs at Baku's throat, and he pulls away.
"So forward," Sieg pants. His hair is the slightest bit out of place, his ill-fitting sunglasses askew on his nose, crooked as his smile. "I like a man who knows what he wants."
"It's just the only way to get you quiet," Baku says, heaving a sigh as he hoists himself onto the table next to Sieg.
"Yeah, yeah, sure." Sieg hums in contentment. He drums his fingers on the wood and leans back, tilting his head up to the ceiling.
They've done this a lot lately, ever since Sieg first started showing up here after his death. Probably a much shorter turnaround time than it should've been, considering Baku is the one who killed him- not that there are any kind of official, acceptable parameters for… whatever this is they're doing.
It's just easy. It's easy for Baku to go into his dreams and spend time with Sieg and kiss him a little and not have to think about anything that's been happening to him.
"You have to talk about it," is what he'd tell anyone else, probably with a nod and encouraging smile. "You can't leave it all bottled up." But who, exactly, is he supposed to talk to about such light and breezy topics as "Turns out my boss is my dad and it's fucking me up"? The only therapist he knows is Nem's mother, and he's pretty sure she was faking anyway. Fujimi and Nagumo have their hands full with NOX- with Odaka, Minami still has to work to put food on the table-
Minami… Minami is a secret agent. His little sister.
Baku bites his lip. Without looking, he reaches out a hand next to him, and Sieg takes it, just like he knew he would. Sieg is always waiting when Baku needs him, because where else would he be?
The other man, for his part, titters at the contact, swinging their hands back and forth. "Ain't we cute."
"Shut up or I banish you." But it's an empty threat, and they both know it. Sieg is the one he came to see.
"Not that I have a choice," Sieg muses, absent-mindedly observing his painted fingernails, "but I do enjoy hangin' around your subconscious, Zeztz-chan. For the record and all. But I gotta say, it's a little disappointing. I mean, here I am, completely at your whims, a fantasy on a perfect lil' silver platter. You could do aaaanything you wanted with me." He traces a finger up Baku's neck, along his jaw, across his lips as he talks. "And we haven't done jack but make out. Why?"
Baku looks away. "Not everyone likes taking advantage of people."
Sieg barks out a laugh. "First of all, wrong. Second, who said anything about that?" Baku feels the air move, and he's staring down at Sieg splayed out on the floor, limbs outstretched like a cat. The other man's pajama shirt rides up his stomach, revealing a patch of tanned skin dappled with dark hair untouched by bleach. "I'm ready. I'm willing. Who're you taking advantage of?"
"Well, of course you are!" Baku exclaims. His expression turns stormy, and even Sieg raises his eyebrows at the outburst. "You're a part of my mind, or you're trapped in my mind, or I made you up. Of course you would do anything I wanted!"
"Yes, Zeztz, hon, that's what a fantasy is," Sieg says, amusement in his voice.
"Don't patronize me. You know what I mean. You don't have a choice, you said it yourself!"
"Oh, you're saying it's a consent thing?" Baku braces himself for this nearly-fifty-year-old guy to make some disparaging comment about consent or cancel culture, but when Sieg reappears, leaning over Baku's shoulders, he's nodding thoughtfully. "Yeah, I guess the power dynamic might psych you out, considering everything. But isn't it a little sexy? You flipping the script on me?" He bats his eyelashes at Baku, who groans.
"That's one word for it."
"If it's like that, then nothing I could say would ever change your mind, huh," Sieg continues, brow furrowed. "Which is a damn shame…"
"Unless…"
"Zeztz… are you…" Baku already knows what he's going to ask, but while the question usually puts a dull dread in his stomach, he's surprised to find it's actually endearing for once. He can almost see the gears turning in Sieg's head as he struggles to put words to the concept. "Do you… not… fuck?"
Baku shakes his head. "I mean, I have," he admits, his cheeks going a faint pink at how blunt Sieg's approach is. "But I've never liked it. I've never… really wanted it." He sets his jaw, blinking away bad memories. Not now.
A moment passes in silence.
"Well, damn!" Sieg exclaims. "So you don't wanna fuck. Big deal. I've got Punny for that." He grins, tapping the side of his head. Baku doesn't want to know what that means. "Not even sure if he'd want a third."
Baku laughs weakly. "Now I know you're only doing what I want you to."
"Excuse you, I have feelings too." Sieg sticks out his bottom lip in a fake pout. "Don't give yourself too much credit, Zeztz-chan."
"You really don't mind?" Baku ventures, his tone cautious.
"Should I?"
"I'm just surprised, I guess. People tend not to have the, um." Baku scratches his chin, searches for a charitable phrasing. "Best reactions."
"You thought a figment of your own imagination was gonna hate you for not liking sex?"
Baku shrugs.
"That's fuckin' depressing, Zeztz-chan."
Baku shrugs again. "Sorry."
"'Sorry' nothing. C'mere, you." Sieg hooks an arm around Baku's neck, making him squeal in surprise, but instead of a chokehold, the older man pulls him into a firm hug, clasping his other arm across his chest. They fall backwards, and instead of the table, they land on a large armchair, sinking into the cushion Sieg-first.
A little too rough. Just the way Baku has always pictured him being.
"So, wait." Sieg's voice is muffled from beneath Baku, but he can feel it thrumming through his chest. "You're not keeping me around for sexy fantasies. So there's… actually just something about me that you like?"
Baku could play coy, say that it could've been anyone, any waiting mouth and warm body…
…but instead, he lets himself crack a smile. "Guess so."
Sieg blinks. He clicks his tongue. "…Huh."
And that does, in fact, keep him quiet for the rest of Baku's dream.