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Travel Plans

Summary:

Doctor Harrowhark Nonagesimus, and her personal assistant, Gideon, have had a hell of a time traveling to DC for a conference. Even worse, when they arrive, their hotel doesn't have their room available, and the only room that IS available is... well...

Notes:

I've been caught in the quagmire of writers block for months, and I thought I might be free. Then a relationship of mine absolutely imploded literally the day after I started this. So. that's fun.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Harrowhark was going to make it to this conference if it killed her! Which, she realized as her personal assistant handed Harrow her inhaler, was a distinct possibility. “Come on, night boss, the gate’s in the next terminal, and we’ve only got five minutes.” Gideon said, returning Harrow’s inhaler to her pocket. 

 

Harrow growled affirmatively and forced herself to stand, until a coughing fit folded her in half. “We will make it.” Harrow croaked. 

 

Gideon rolled her eyes. “Yeah, we will.”

 

Harrow was too busy trying to master her rebellious lungs to stop Gideon as she relieved her of her carryon, slinging it over her own shoulder. 

 

“Alright, here we go.” Harrow let out an furious shriek and a wrathful burst of coughs as Gideon scooped her up in her arms and started sprinting through the airport, leaping over innumerable sleeping travelers no doubt misplaced by the same storm that had forced Harrow off her course. 

 

“Put me down, Griddle!” Harrow screamed. 

 

“Nope! We’re not missing another flight!” Gideon replied. 

 

“I am your superior! I order you to put me down!” Harrow snarled. 

 

“Job is to assist you, not to listen to you.” Gideon said, her voice starting to strain with the effort of running. “Now stop squirming, if I drop you you’ll shatter like a fancy cup, my effervescent empress.”

 

Harrow continued to complain and berate Gideon, but she stopped squirming. And they did, in fact, make it to their flight on time. The attendant was perplexed at the state of them, Gideon sweating from sprinting across the oversized airport, and Harrow glaring daggers from her arms, but they got their seats just moments before the doors closed. 

 

Harrow insisted Gideon take the window seat, she was not a friend of heights. Gideon accepted happily. “Finally some leg room!” Gideon sighed contentedly, “How’d you swing getting us upgraded to first class?”

 

“Never underestimate what persistent complaints and knowledge of procedure can get you.” Harrow allowed herself a smug grin. 

 

“You look so evil when you do that.” Gideon chuckled. The plane shuddered as it began to taxi away from the terminal, and Harrow gripped the arms of her seat. “Here.” Gideon pulled a bottle of pills from her backpack. “Take your sleeping pills, my anxious commander, it’s eight straight hours from here to DC.”

 

“They never work.” Harrow muttered, but took the pill from her assistant anyway. 

 

“They do, you just don’t notice because you sleep instead of zoning out for three hours in the middle of the night.” Gideon said. “Now, before the sleeping pills kick in, antipsychotics, hrt, antidepressants, and antacids.” Gideon pulled each bottle from her backpack as she spoke. “Aaand, water bottle. Take em, before you forget.”

 

Gideon did not often tend to Harrow like this. Their typical relationship was one of carefully maintained professional distance, but Harrow forgot about the dull self-maintenance tasks even under the best of circumstances, and after Harrow had suffered a hallucinatory meltdown at a convention, she’d trusted Gideon with her daily routine while traveling. …Harrow did not dislike being taken care of. 

 

Harrow swallowed the fistful of pills and washed them down with stale, plasticy water that had long since gone warm in Gideon’s backpack. “Disgusting.” She sneered after she had finished downing her pills. 

 

“The vending machines didn’t have champagne.” Gideon huffed. 

 

The plane began accelerating, and Harrow’s deathgrip on her seat tightened. Harrow sat very still in her seat as the plane pitched upward, and soon was suspended upon nothing. 

 

Gideon produced Harrow’s pillow from her backpack, and shoved it under her head. “Sleep. Don’t wind yourself up, the plane will be fine, just close your eyes and go the fuck to sleep.”

 

“You can’t order me around like tha- ack!” Harrow squawked indignantly as Gideon hooked the elastic of Harrow’s sleeping mask behind her head and snapped it onto her forehead. 

 

“Quiet, my midnight princess.” Gideon said flatly. “Don’t be rude to the other passengers.”

 

“I can fire you.” Harrow hissed. 

 

“No you can’t.” Gideon replied. “Who else will put up with your bullshit, shadow queen? More importantly, if you get rid of me, who will remember your pills?”

 

Harrow knew her medications by name, and knew the dosages by the milligram… but she had to concede, it was not her who remembered to actually take them. 

 

Harrow remained resolutely silent, not giving Gideon the satisfaction of admitting Harrow’s life would fall apart without her. As the flight wore on, Harrow felt her mind begin to fog, and, when Gideon reached over to tug her sleep mask down, Harrow allowed herself to relax, slightly. 

 

Harrow rested her eyes for no more than a few minutes, but far sooner than was physically possible Gideon was shaking her shoulder, “Wake up, bone empress. It’s time to get off. …heh.”

 

Harrow groggily pulled off her sleep mask. “I was just drifting off.” She groaned. God her back hurt!

 

“Sure boss.”

 

“How long until we land?” Harrow asked, looking around at the fully lit plane interior. 

 

“About five minutes ago.” Gideon said. “Come on. We need to get to the hotel.”

 

“Right.” Harrow was more than a bit groggy, so she simply followed her assistant. Fortunately the stupor she was in was enough to protect her from carsickness in the taxi to the hotel. However, yet another complication stood between Harrow and a proper bed. 

 

“What do you mean you don’t have our room available!?” Gideon groaned to the receptionist. 

 

“I’m very sorry.” The receptionist apologized for the thousandth time. “But the inclement weather means a lot of guests had to extend their stay. But with the storm clearing up, we should be able to have your room available by…” They spend a few seconds checking their computer. “Tomorrow at noon.”

 

If Harrowhark did not get a bed within the next few minutes she would kill someone. “What’s available right now?” She growled. 

 

“W-well!” The receptionist was clearly experienced at dealing with the irate and upset, but Harrow’s death glare could break even the strongest of wills… Gideon excluded, frustratingly. “There is one room available. But it’s-”

 

“I will take it.” Harrow snapped. “But I am not paying full price!”

 

“Of course, ma’am! I’ll comp you tonight’s stay, and we can get you settled into the room you reserved tomorrow afternoon!” 

 

“Acceptable.” Harrow muttered, attempting to work a kink out of her spine, and failing. “Now, the key, please.”



Room 221 was number on the keycard Harrow was handed. And when she staggered into the abysmally small space, followed closely by her luggage, and then Gideon, who was carrying it, she noticed a certain deficit. 

 

“So uhh…” Gideon coughed awkwardly. “Where am I gonna sleep?”

 

The single bed took up the majority of the meager floor space available, and, once the luggage had been stacked as high as they dared, there was maybe enough space left in the room for Gideon to stand without bumping into anything, provided she was careful turning around. 

 

Harrow sighed. “Nothing for it. We’ll share the bed.” She flopped down face first onto the too soft mattress. “I hate flying.”

 

“Hey, at least you were asleep for most of it.” Gideon joked. “Conference starts at ten am tomorrow, we’ve got…” She checked her wristwatch, “Fourteen hours. Get some rest.”

 

“Not likely.” Harrow muttered. She attempted to stretch out, but an unpleasant crackle in the area of her seventeenth though twenty-first vertebrae stopped her. “My back is killing me!” She complained. 

 

Gideon chuckled lightly. The mattress shook slightly as she sat down heavily next to where Harrow sprawled. “Sometimes I wonder what the hell is holding you together.”

 

“Spite.”

 

“Figures.” Gideon laughed quietly. “Here, stay like that, boss.”

 

“Hmm? Why do you- ooh!” Gideon had pressed down on Harrow’s long suffering spine, and with a loud crackle, some semblance of order reasserted itself over Harrow’s bones. 

 

“What a sound.” Gideon said, repeating the motion, lower down, and getting the same result. “Damn. You were fucked up.” Another press, another crackle. “Are you doing your stretches?”

 

“They don’t work.” Harrow muttered. 

 

“Really boss?” Gideon admonished. “I thought you and SexPal went over this! The only way to help your hypermobility issues is to do your damn exercises and stretches!”

 

“I know my body better than Dr. Sextus.” Harrow replied, despite knowing how petulant she sounded. 

 

“Yeah, but you don’t teat patients you’re too close to!” Gideon countered. “I flunked outta med school and even I know that!”

 

Harrow had not answer to that. “I’ll… I’ll try to get into the habit after the conference.”



“I’ll hold you to that.” Gideon said. “Hey, I noticed you got all sorts of knots in your back, want me to take care of those too?”

 

“Are you a masseuse along with a chiropractor?” Harrow snarked. 

 

“I though chiropractors were quacks?” Gideon chuckled as she began massaging Harrow’s back through her sweater, and Harrow had to admit, it felt fantastic. 

 

“They are.” Harrow insisted. “I was merely- ah! A little higher!-  merely being funny.” Gideon’s stong fingers had made their way to Harrow’s shoulders, and the continued attention was rapidly unwinding the stress that had been building over the last two days they had spent stranded in the airport. 

 

“Well, not a masseuse. But I am a certified personal trainer.” Gideon smirked. “So I will be charging you for my help with your stretches.”

 

“You’re a personal trainer?” Harrow looked at her assistant quizzically. “Since when?”

 

“Since before we started working together. Or, before you gave me that raise. I needed another gig.” She shrugged. “But, like, you actually pay me decently, so these days I only do a few sessions on the weekends.”

 

“Hmm.” Harrow had assumed she knew everything about Gideon. They’d known each other since childhood, after all. 

 

Gideon’s massage moved lower, past Harrow’s waist, to her lower back. As Gideon’s strong hands worked ever closer to the curve of her ass, another kind of stress made itself known in Harrow’s sweatpants. “I think that’s enough!” Harrow said quickly. 

 

“You sure?” Gideon asked. “I could get your front too, if you want.”

 

“I’m fine, thank you.” Harrow insisted. “I think I’ll take a shower, it’s been days.”

 

“Oh hell yeah, don’t take too long, I gotta shower too!” Gideon grinned. 

 

Harrow carefully concealed the tent she was pitching in her sweats as she shuffled around her assistant, towards the pitiably small closet that passed for the bathroom in this, what must be the absolute worst room the hotel had. 

 

Harrow stripped down quickly, happy to be rid of the clothes she’d been wearing for near three days straight. In the mirror, Harrow considered her reflection. Her short hair, her modest breasts, her narrow waist, her straining erection. That last one was a surprise, and an annoyance, but not a priority. Her suddenly awakened libido could wait until after her shower. 

 

But why had she gotten so excited from Gideon touching her?!?

 

Harrow liked her showers like she liked her travel. Brief. She was in and out in less than fifteen minutes, and much relieved for being clean again. But… In her haste to hide her arousal from Gideon, Harrow had neglected to secure a change of clothes before she entered the bathroom.

 

It probably wasn’t a big deal, walking out clad only in her towel, she and Gideon had seen each other in their underwear before, a towel wasn’t too far a step past, and dammit all she was getting excited thinking about it!

 

While Harrow was attempting to force her erection down with sheer willpower, a small knock resounded on the bathroom door. “You okay in there, crepuscular queen?”

 

“I’m fine, Griddle!” Harrow snapped. 

 

“Then hurry up, I wanna shower too.”

 

Harrow swallowed nervously, and wrapped her towel around her chest, hoping it was thick enough to disguise her excitement. “Then shower.” Harrow said as she stepped past Gideon.

 

“Don’t have to tell me twice.”

 

Gideon vanished into the bathroom, leaving Harrow alone in the postage stamp of a hotel room. She hadn’t even looked at Harrow. Harrow was confused by how insulted that made her feel.

 

Now, Harrow could simply get dressed and leave it at that, but Gideon never took less than an hour in the shower, so she had time to… relieve some stress. 

 

Harrow sat on the bed, the only thing there was to sit on, and cast open the towel. Even in the cool air of the hotel room, she was still achingly hard. Harrow wrapped her fingers around her hard length, beginning to stroke herself lightly. She’d never been particularly large, and years of hormone therapy had taken her already humble thirteen centimeters down to just nine, but nine centimeters was still enough for her to stroke. 

 

“Ugh.” Harrow sighed. These thoughts were not sexy. She tried to bend her mind to things more likely to help her get off. But the only place her mind took her was too the feeling of Gideon’s hands on her waist, the sensation of being lifted off her feet and carried across the airport, the soft press of Gideon’s breasts against her shoulder as Gideon held her. 

 

Harrow pictured Gideon’s hands wrapped around her cock. She could cover it entirely with just one hand, Harrow imagined. Harrow pictured Gideon stroking her cock, meeting her gaze with those captivating yellow eyes of hers, she pictured Gideon closing the gap between their faces, their lips a hairsbreadth away from touching. Oh god, Harrow was about to-! The bathroom door noisily getting stuck alerted her to Gideon’s impeding presence, and, with no other options available, she dove under the blankets, still nude, and now with her erection dripping excitement onto the sheets. Dammit all. 

 

“Man that feels better!” Gideon sighed contentedly. Harrow dared a glance at Gideon, and was delighted at how little of her much larger frame the towel covered. “Now, which bag did I leave my goddamn underwear in…?” Gideon attempted to search through the luggage without letting go of her towel, but that threatened to topple the entire structure. “Shit. Heya Harrow? Look away for a bit yeah?”

 

“Of course.” Harrow heard the sound of Gideon’s towel hitting the floor, and she closed her eyes tightly.

 

She heard Gideon opening the zipper of one of the bags, muttering, “There’s gotta be a comfy bra somewhere in here…” And the image of Gideon’s bare breasts flashed across Harrow’s mind. Not that she’d ever seen them, but she imagined they were quite generous, and shapely. And still moist from the shower, her wet nipples hardening in the cool air…

 

Harrow opened her eyes and stared at the wall, since having them closed was clearly counter productive. Another zipper. “Fuck the bra, it’s not like she’s staring at my tits, boxers and tshirt is fine.” Gideon mumbled. Harrow’s imagination turned to the subject of Gideon’s ass, against her will. Gideon did not habitually wear form-fitting trousers, and yet Harrow had yet to see her in a pair of pants that was not snug across her bottom, and the power of those muscles! Harrow drove the images out of her head before she could begin drooling.

 

Gideon finished dressing and slid under the covers. “Alright, I know you just slept, but we should try to get some rest before the conference. Goodnight, boss.”

 

“G-goodnight!” Harrow managed. She was still naked. In bed. With Gideon no more than a few centimeters away. Separated by absolutely nothing. If she so much as moved a hand she would brush against Harrow’s bare skin. Harrow was trying very hard not to panic… and this damned erection just kept coming back!

 

“Hm?” Gideon seemed to notice Harrow’s distress. “Hey, you okay boss?” 

 

“I’m fine!” Harrow insisted. 

 

“Ah, I get it!” Gideon nodded. “It’s the jitters! First time being a keynote speaker at one of these shindigs!”

 

Harrow could not care less about that in this moment. “Right.” She fibbed. 

 

“Well, you’ll do great, trust me!” Gideon grinned. “But hey, if you’re nervous, I can hold you.” She teased. 

 

“Attempt it and I’ll flay you alive!” Harrow snarled. 

 

Mischief twinkled in Gideon’s eyes as she mistook Harrow’s panic for a challenge. “Ah, come on, don’t knock it til you try it!” She grinned. “Here!” 

 

“Don’t you dare!”

 

Gideon wrapped herself around Harrow from behind, her soft breasts pressing against the back of Harrow’s head through the thin material of her shirt, her bare thighs pressing against Harrow’s butt, and her arms settling over her chest. “Nice and coz- ... Harrow, are you naked?”

 

Harrow buried her burning face in her hands. “...yes.”

 

“...whyyyy?”

 

“I forgot to get dressed while you were in the shower.” Harrow mumbled. 

 

“You forgot? How do you forget something like that?”

 

“I was otherwise occupied!” Harrow replied indignantly. 

 

“Doing what!?” Gideon was getting louder now as well, but her grip on Harrow remained perfectly gentle. 

 

“I was…” Harrow squirmed, trying to get her straining cock as far from any possible part of Gideon before it was too late. 

 

It was too late, as Gideon noticed the motion. “Oh!” A warm hand slid down Harrow’s stomach, stopping just above her dark curls. “Um… Harrow, can I?”

 

“What?” Harrow asked, nearly crying from embarrassment. 

 

“Or, I guess, may I?” Gideon asked again. “Touch you, I mean.”

 

Harrow’s brain stopped working briefly. During this momentary loss of sapience, her mouth excitedly whispered, “Yes!”

 

Gideon’s fingers ran carefully through Harrow’s thick pubes, just barely brushing against the sides of her erection. “Okay, I’m not gonna lie, Harrow. This is uh, my first time handling one of these.” Her fingers brushed over Harrow’s cock, her touches feather light. “Or, at least, one that’s permanently attached. I’m gonna need you to tell me what feels good.”

 

Harrow’s mind, which was still lagging a few seconds behind her libido, formulated a response which sounded much more needy then she intended it, once it made it all the way from her brain to her lips, “Please Gideon! Stroke it.”

 

“Ah, yeah that’d make sense wouldn’t it?” Gideon muttered. “I’m overthinking this… Okay!” Gideon’s fingers wrapped around Harrow’s length, and she began carefully stroking Harrow’s cock. “Like this?”

 

“Yes!” Harrow breathed. It felt so different to have someone else doing it! “You can go faster.” 

 

Gideon complied, and Harrow stifled a moan. Her hands drifted to her chest, a motion Gideon also noticed. “Do you want me to play with your tits too?”

 

“Do it!” Harrow gasped. Gideon’s hand was becoming slick with Harrow’s excitement, creating a new and intoxicating sensation. Gideon’s hand on her breast, lightly circling her nipples, and carefully pinching them, added another melody to the symphony Gideon was playing on Harrow’s body. “Harder.” Harrow commanded. Gideon pinched her nipples harder, and that was the last note Harrow needed to reach her crescendo “Gideon! I’m going to-!” Harrow whimpered urgently. 

 

Gideon tossed back the blankets and rolled Harrow onto her back. Before Harrow could question what she was doing, Gideon had taken her cock into her mouth. Harrow looked down at Gideon in confusion, and met her golden gaze. Gideon didn’t break her gaze as the wet heat of her mouth drove Harrow over the edge, and Harrow had to close her eyes to avoid Gideon’s stare as she climaxed onto Gideon’s tongue. Gideon sat back on the miniscule bed, and Harrow attempted to catch her breath. She opened her eyes just in time to see Gideon swallow. “I though it was supposed to taste bitter.” She smirked. “That wasn’t half bad.”

 

“You- you-!” Harrow felt her blush burning though her face again. “You just swallowed my-! And your only concern is the taste!?” She groaned loudly. “Our professional relationship will never recover from this!”

 

“So?” Gideon shrugged.

 

“It will be impossible to maintain a level of distance now that we’ve done this!” Harrow continued. 

 

“And?”

 

“I’ll never be able to look you in the eye again without remembering what you looked like with your lips around my-!”

 

“Hot.”

 

“Gideooon!” Harrow growled. “I’m being serious!”

 

“Okay?” Gideon shrugged again. “I don’t know why you care so much about ‘professionalism’, I pretty much do everything short of wipe your ass for you anyway.”

 

“Only when we’re traveling.” Harrow grumped. 

 

“So, like, half the year.” Gideon countered. 

 

“...Fuck off.” Harrow grumbled. 

 

“Anyway, that was hot as fuck.” She grinned, and reached for her phone to check the calendar. “Looks like we got a free day or two between the end of the conference and our train to New York, wanna grab a coffee or something in the city while we have the chance?”

 

Harrow looked at her assistant/personal trainer in confusion. “Are you asking me on a date?”

“Yop.” Gideon affirmed confidently, “Now that the veneer of ‘professional distance’ has been cracked, I figured I might finally have a shot!”

 

Harrow’s mind, again, took a brief vacation from her body to contemplate the implications of the phrase ‘finally have a shot’. Fortunately, in its absence, her body gave the correct answer, “I’d love that.”

 

“Sweet!” Gideon said with a warm smile. 

Notes:

As always, comments and kudos nourish my soul. Thanks for reading!