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“Fifteen minutes until passengers boarding.”
“Alright, thank you.”
Henry hangs up the jetway phone, straightens his uniform, and takes a deep breath. He steps into the business class cabin, where the soft ambient lighting glows warmly, illuminating the plush leather seats. He goes over his pre-boarding routine one last time, making sure he doesn’t forget anything, before grabbing the interphone and warning Amy, Spencer, and Julia, who are working in the Economy class, of the impending arrival of the passengers.
He then goes back to the galley and prepares two coffees. It’s the beginning of the afternoon, and he is pretty acquainted with the Captain’s love for the beverage - some would actually call it an addiction, although not to his face - and with a knowing smile, adds a pinch of cinnamon in one of the mugs, before putting them on a tray and approaching the cockpit’s door. He knocks softly before entering, greeted by the impressive array of instruments and the expansive view of the Austin tarmac beyond the windshield.
"Passenger boarding is in fifteen minutes," he announces, handing a cup to Liam, the co-pilot, and the other one to the Captain.
Alex Claremont-Diaz. Golden brown eyes and glossy, unruly black curls catching the afternoon sun coming through the big windshields. The most handsome face Henry has ever laid eyes on, and eyelashes that should be illegal. His eyes linger for a moment on Alex's capable hands as they grasp the coffee cup, noting the way his fingers curl around the warm ceramic.
This is absolutely not the right moment to think about what those fingers can do in other…private circumstances.
“Thanks, Hen,” Alex says with a warm smile.
“How is it looking?” Henry asks, keeping his tone neutral and professional.
“Good,” Liam answers. “Shouldn’t be over three hours and thirty minutes, and the sky is clear, although the weather report is not so encouraging over NYC. But it might clear out by the time we get there.”
“Alright. Let me know if you need anything,” he says , his voice betraying more than he intends. Unable to resist, his hand finds its way to Alex's shoulder, squeezing gently . It's been a week since they've seen each other, and the touch, however brief, feels electric. Alex's eyes lock with his, and suddenly, the cramped cockpit feels overwhelmingly intimate. Unspoken words pass between them, and Henry bites his lower lip and exits before doing something monumentally stupid, like climbing on his lap and kissing him senselessly.
They have known and worked with each other for the past two years.
They’ve been sleeping together for the last six months.
No strings attached, no complications.
It’s a nice arrangement. Although they are both based in New York, they rarely see each other in the city as they are either flying together, or off, or on different flights. Besides, they don’t go on dates or anything. It’s just sex. They have a stressful job, and it is nice to release the tension during layovers. The whole colleagues-with-benefits works perfectly well with their busy schedule, although Henry likes to think it is more of a friends-with-benefits thing. He can't help but think of the late-night conversations, the shared laughter, the way Alex's eyes crinkle when he smiles. They're friends, surely. They text, and they share stories. They know each other's fears and dreams.
The fact that the sex is nothing short of spectacular is a bonus. The memories alone are enough to make Henry's cheeks flush.
Yet they've never talked about turning this into something more serious or long-term. Alex has never seemed interested in that, and Henry... well, Henry is trying desperately not to acknowledge the growing warmth in his chest whenever Alex is near.
And if he was enough of a bloody idiot to catch feelings for his handsome, very skilled-with-his-hands co-worker, he has no one to blame but himself.
Well, himself and that damn uniform. The way it hugs Alex's form, accentuating every perfect line of his body... No, Henry decides, it's not entirely his fault after all.
The first passengers arrive, providing a welcome distraction, and he slips back into his role as Chief Flight Attendant. He helps passengers settle in, effortlessly lifting luggage into overhead compartments and offering refreshments with a warm smile.
After Liam informs him that they are about to depart, Henry picks up the interphone handset, takes a deep breath, and presses the button for the public address system. His voice, warm and professional, flows through the cabin.
"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. On behalf of Captain Alex Claremont-Diaz and the entire crew, I'd like to welcome you aboard Delta Flight 221 from Austin to New York City. My name is Henry, and I'll be your chief cabin for this journey.
Our flight time today will be approximately three hours and thirty minutes, putting our estimated arrival time at John F. Kennedy International Airport at 4:45 PM Eastern Time. We're expecting clear skies and smooth conditions for most of our trip.”
He continues with the usual security measures and in-flight services, his voice steady and reassuring. After hanging up, Henry checks with the rest of the crew, ensuring everything is in order. As the plane begins to taxi, he takes his seat, fastening his seatbelt and enjoying the brief moments of quiet before the busy flight ahead.
The takeoff is smooth, and soon, they're cruising at altitude. Henry busies himself with the drink and meal service, moving efficiently through the cabin. After that comes a respite, as the passengers get comfortable reading, sleeping, or enjoying the in-flight entertainment.
He tidies the galley, securing the trolleys back into their allotted places when he hears the cockpit door opening behind him. He doesn't have to turn around to know it's Alex – the familiar scent of his cologne invades Henry's senses, making his heart skip a beat.
“Hey,” Alex says, grabbing a paper cup and pouring himself a glass of water.
“I could have brought you that,” Henry says casually, and Alex shrugs.
“I needed to stretch my legs. How are you doing?”
"A tad worried, actually," Henry admits, turning to face Alex with a teasing smile.
Alex quirks an eyebrow, taking a sip from his cup. "Oh?"
"If you're here, who's flying the plane?"
Alex snorts. “Very funny, sweetheart. How many times have you used it so far?”
“Only just now,” Henry confesses, and Alex’s face lights up as he tosses his cup in the trash.
"I see. So I'm special, then?" Alex's tone is teasing, but there's an undercurrent of something more that sets Henry's pulse racing.
"Maybe. It’s just a dumb joke," Henry replies coyly, returning to his task of putting unused glasses and utensils in the storage bins. “How was your week off?” he asks.
"Good," Alex says, leaning against the counter. "Spent a couple of days with my mom in Austin, then joined June and Nora at Dad's lake house."
Focused on securing a storage bin, Henry doesn't notice Alex moving behind him. He startles when two strong arms suddenly bracket him, a familiar chest pressing against his back.
“Fuck, I missed you,” Alex mutters, his voice low and husky his nose coming to nuzzle his neck, and Henry stiffens, momentarily, surprised by the unexpected contact.
Well, that’s new.
Henry's heart races, confused by this display of affection. This isn't part of their usual arrangement – no tender embraces, no whispered confessions, and certainly not in public. But as Alex presses a kiss to that sensitive spot just below Henry's ear, Henry finds himself relaxing, a soft sigh escaping his lips.
The truth is, he missed Alex too during that week. Probably an unhealthy amount. Which is ridiculous. They'd gone longer without seeing each other before, and it had been fine .
This was supposed to be casual. They weren't meant to pine for each other.
And yet, as Alex's hand comes to rest on his waist before sliding to his stomach, a finger slipping between two buttons to graze bare skin, Henry can't help but wonder if something has shifted, and he didn’t get the memo.
Unfortunately, this is not exactly the time or the place.
"Alex," Henry exhales softly, but it comes out more like a plea than a warning. Alex's exploratory finger reaches his navel, mouth still wandering Henry's neck—with a bit of tongue added in the mix —and it takes all of Henry's willpower to speak firmly.
“Alex, anyone could walk in.”
While Alex isn't his superior, and personal relationships between employees aren't strictly forbidden—Liam and Spencer's happy marriage being a prime example—as long as it doesn't interfere with work, Henry doubts a passenger stumbling upon the Captain and Chief Flight Attendant getting frisky in the galley would reflect well on the company.
Alex reluctantly steps back, and for a moment, Henry thinks he's being reasonable. (He’s not disappointed that Alex actually listened. He’s not .) But then Alex leans out, scanning the cabin quickly before turning back with a mischievous grin.
"Coast is clear," he murmurs, his eyes dark with desire.
Henry knows he should resist and should be the voice of reason. But the week apart, the lingering touches and Alex's intoxicating presence overwhelm his better judgment. With a soft groan of surrender, Henry grabs Alex's tie, yanking him close.
Their lips crash together in a searing kiss, all pent-up longing and barely restrained passion. Henry's back hits the galley wall as Alex presses against him, one hand cupping his face while the other grips his hip possessively.
The kiss deepens, tongues tangling as they lose themselves in the moment. Henry's fingers thread through Alex's hair, mussing the usually perfectly styled locks. While he enjoys seeing the dashing Captain looking smart in his uniform and perfectly coiffed, Alex’s hair after sex is always a wonder to behold.
Alex's hand slips under Henry's shirt, tracing patterns on his lower back that send shivers up his spine, and his knee grazes his crotch, and Henry knows it’s time to put a stop to this delectable but decidedly very unreasonable interlude.
They break apart, breathless and flushed. Alex rests his forehead against Henry's, both of them panting slightly.
“You want to get out of here?” he asks.
Henry chuckles, a mix of amusement and confusion in his tone. “Get off of the flying plane?”
“You know what I mean, sweetheart.” And the endearment does nothing to Henry’s insides.
He rolls his eyes, but it is an old joke between them, so he plays along.
“Alex, I’m not joining the Mile High club with you while we’re both on duty.”
Alex pouts, his bottom lip jutting out in a way Henry finds infuriatingly adorable. "Well, it was worth a shot."
"You're a menace," Henry says, and it comes out much more fondly than he intended. Alex's answer is a cheeky smile and another kiss, softer this time, almost tender—Henry's mind reels, trying to make sense of this new, affectionate Alex.
As Alex pulls away, Henry thinks this might be a good time to ask if they can see each other when they arrive in New York. It's not something they usually do – plan to meet outside of work in their hometown – but something feels different today. Before he can voice the question, however, the cockpit interphone buzzes
Henry disentangle himself from between Alex’s arms and picks it up.
“Yes? Yes, he’s here. I’ll tell him.”
He hangs up. “Liam needs you.”
Alex looks at him with a strange, thoughtful expression, something unreadable in his eyes. It's a look Henry's never seen before, and it only adds to his growing bewilderment. But then Alex just smiles and nods, opening the cockpit door and closing it behind him.
Left alone in the galley, Henry leans against the counter, his mind racing. What the bloody hell just happened? Alex's behavior – the tender touches, the lingering looks, the use of endearments outside of the bedroom – is all so far from their usual dynamic. They've always kept things casual, fun, and mostly physical. This... this feels like something else entirely.
Henry runs a hand through his hair, trying to make sense of it all. Is he reading too much into this? Are his growing feelings for Alex coloring his perception, making him see signs that aren't really there? Or has something genuinely shifted between them during their week apart? And if so, what does that mean ?
Henry can't help but wonder if he missed some crucial development. Alex's parting look haunts him – it was almost as if he was waiting for Henry to say something, to acknowledge whatever this new thing between them is. Except Alex was the instigator of this new thing, so what the hell was Henry supposed to say?
He'd let the moment pass, and now he's left with a thousand questions ricocheting around his skull. For a wild moment, he's tempted to barge into the cockpit and demand Alex explains himself, to ask what the fuck is going on . But the timing is far from ideal. Not to mention Liam, who, as one of Alex's best friends and one of the few people privy to their relationship, probably doesn't want a front-row seat to that particular discussion.
Henry wonders what will happen when they land in New York. Will Alex act like nothing's changed? Or will he continue this new, affectionate behavior? Should Henry take the initiative and ask if they can see each other, as he'd intended before they were interrupted?
He takes a deep breath. What he should do, what he needs to do, is get it together and stop this spiral of overthinking. He has a bloody job to do and passengers to attend to.
With a determined set to his jaw, he plasters a smile on his face and steps into the cabin. He spends a few minutes checking in on the passengers, then goes to the back, stopping to chat with Spencer, Amy, and Julia. Everything seems to go smoothly, and as Henry checks his watch, realizes they are only thirty minutes away from arriving.
As he walks back to the front, he feels a slight tremor run through the aircraft. He pauses, waiting to see if it passes. The plane's intercom crackled to life with Alex's voice.
"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We're about 30 minutes from New York City, but we're heading into some turbulence. Please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts."
Henry quickly checks that everything is secured in the galley and makes his way down the aisle, his movements practiced and efficient despite the shaking aircraft. He ensures all passengers are buckled in, his voice calm and reassuring as he speaks to each row.
"Please remain seated with your seatbelts fastened," he instructs, his tone steady even as the tremors intensify, causing the plane to shudder violently. Dark, ominous clouds engulf the aircraft outside the windows, turning the afternoon sky into an eerie twilight.
Suddenly, a bright flash of lightning illuminates the cabin, followed almost immediately by a deafening crack of thunder. The plane lurches sharply to the side, eliciting gasps and cries from the passengers. Henry grabs onto the nearest seat, maintaining his balance with the ease of long practice.
"It's alright, everyone," he calls out, his voice raised to be heard over the storm and the anxious murmurs. "This is just a bit of turbulence. Our pilots are highly experienced with these conditions."
A young woman clutches his arm as he passes. "Are we going to be okay?" she asks, her eyes wide with fear.
Henry places a comforting hand over hers, his smile gentle and confident. "Absolutely. Modern aircraft are designed to handle much worse than this. Think of it as a slightly bumpier car ride."
Even as he speaks, Henry feels the familiar stress twist in his stomach. He's used to turbulence, but this is more severe than usual. However, the fact that Alex and Liam are in the cockpit, both seasoned pilots and highly skilled at their jobs, definitely brings him a measure of comfort.
“Will it be like this until we land?” another passenger asks him, and Henry gives him a reassuring smile.
“I’ll ask the pilots, but don’t worry, even if it is, they know what they are doing.”
He knocks softly on the cockpit door before entering, his breath catching in his throat at the view greeting him. Through the windshield, angry dark clouds flash with lightning, rain lashing against the glass in horizontal sheets. It's certainly not the first time he's witnessed such bad weather conditions while flying, but it never becomes less stressful.
Liam is talking into his headset, probably with the control tower in NYC. Alex is in his seat, his back a bit rigid, but he smiles at Henry.
“What’s the situation?”
“Not ideal. This is a fucking hell of a storm.”
Well, that’s not exactly reassuring.
“Will it be like this until JFK ?”
“Most probably, yeah.”
“Alright. I’ll let the passengers know.”
He’s about to exit the cockpit when Alex calls out to him.
"Hey Henry, fancy having dinner once we touch down in NYC?" he asks casually.
Liam scoffs. "More like 'if' we land in NYC at this rate."
A tense silence follows before Henry responds, his voice a mix of disbelief and amusement. "Are you seriously asking me on a date while you're battling severe turbulence at 6000 meters in the air?"
Alex smirks. “It’s 20000 feet, sweetheart, and now is as good a time as any, right?”
Henry’s heart is galloping in his chest, and it has nothing to do with the raging storm outside their bloody airplane. Shit, he was right.
He leans against the doorframe, affecting a relaxed attitude - as relaxed as the shaking plane allows him.
“Assuming you land that metal bird safely, you buy me dinner, and I’ll bring dessert,” he says with a playful smile and a wink, and Alex looks absolutely delighted.
“You’ve got yourself a deal, sweetheart.”
Liam groans. "Christ, can you two flirt when we're not in the middle of a fucking tempest?"
Henry chuckles, feeling a rush of adrenaline that's equal parts fear from the storm and excitement from this new thing with Alex. "Right, sorry. I'll leave you to it, then.”
“Go sit down, Hen. Things are about to get bumpy,” Alex adds more seriously.
Henry has just been seated for a good ten minutes in his jump seat when another violent jolt rocks the plane. The aircraft drops altitude rapidly, and for a heart-stopping moment, Henry feels weightless. Then it stabilizes, and there’s a collective gasp of relief through the cabin. At least the oxygen masks didn’t drop, meaning the oxygen pressure is still good.
The relief is short-lived though, as the plane suddenly shudders with a force unlike anything they've experienced so far. A loud bang reverberates through the fuselage, followed by a high-pitched whine that quickly transitions into an uneven, sputtering roar. The noise is unmistakable and chilling - the sound of an engine in distress.
Henry, who has spent countless hours in the air, immediately senses something is wrong. The vibrations running through the plane have changed, becoming more erratic and intense. He feels it in his bones, a primal instinct telling him that the aircraft is struggling. The plane lurches to one side, fighting against the loss of power from the damaged engine. His heart races, but years of training kick in, and he knows he needs to stay calm for the passengers, but he can't shake the cold dread settling in his stomach. Gasps and cries of alarm rise from the passengers as they too, realize something has gone wrong. The plane's erratic movement and the unsettling noise from the engine are impossible to ignore. He stands up, reassuring the passengers, then calls the rest of the crew to make sure everyone is alright in Economy.
He steps once again in the cockpit. Liam is engaged in rapid-fire communication with air traffic control, his voice tense but measured. Alex's hands are steady on the yoke, and his entire body radiates focus and determination.
“How bad?” Henry asks, trying to keep his voice steady.
Alex doesn't take his eyes off the instruments as he responds, "Engine one is damaged. Probably hail. We're flying on the remaining engine and working on an emergency landing plan with ATC. Also, lightning struck us twice in a row, and it disabled some of our electronic systems.”
Despite the gravity of the situation, Henry can't help but be impressed by Alex's composure. His movements are precise, and his voice is calm and authoritative as he calls out readings and adjustments to Liam. There's something undeniably attractive about seeing Alex in his element, competently handling a crisis that would leave most people paralyzed with fear.
Henry nods, trying to ignore the inappropriate flutter in his stomach as he watches Alex work. The pilot's brow is furrowed in concentration, his jawline tense. Even with alarms blaring and the storm raging outside, Alex exudes a quiet confidence that Henry finds oddly reassuring and, if he's honest with himself, somewhat of a big turn-on.
“Oh. That bad, then.”
Alex smirks. “Nah. Just another Tuesday in the sky.”
Henry snorts softly, and Liam turns to him.
“ETA in JFK in fifteen minutes, hopefully in one piece.”
Henry pauses at the cockpit door, his hand on the handle. He turns back, his gaze locking with Alex's.
"Alex," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. There's so much he wants to say - words of encouragement, trust in his pilot skills, and probably even something more meaningful. Private. But the moment feels fragile, suspended in the chaos of the storm and the emergency they're facing.
Alex seems to sense the unspoken words hanging between them. He reaches out, his hand closing around Henry's in a gentle, reassuring grip, their fingers interlacing.
"I know, baby," Alex murmurs, his eyes soft and understanding. The roar of the engine and the alarms fade into the background, and Henry squeezes Alex's hand, drawing strength from the contact.
"Be safe," he says.
Alex nods, a faint smile playing on his lips. "We've got this," he assures, his gaze unwavering.
Henry sits back in his jumpseat, heart pounding as the damaged aircraft makes its final approach to JFK. The cabin is filled with a tense silence, broken only by the strained whine of the remaining engine and occasional sobs from frightened passengers. He can feel every bump and jolt as the plane fights against the storm, Alex and Liam working in tandem to bring them down safely.
If - no not if, when - they make it safely to New York, he’s telling Alex everything. He will find a moment - maybe during that dinner or later- and look Alex in the eyes and lay his heart on the line. No more holding back, no more hesitation. If Alex feels the same way, they'll figure out the rest together.
The runway lights come into view through the rain-lashed windows. Henry grips the side of his seat tightly, muscles tense as he prepares for impact. The plane touches down with a hard jolt, bouncing once before the wheels catch. The reverse thrusters roar to life, and Henry feels the intense deceleration pushing him forward against his restraints.
As they slow, Henry catches glimpses of flashing lights through the windows - firetrucks and emergency vehicles lining the runway, ready to respond if needed. The plane finally comes to a stop, and for a moment, there's nothing but stunned silence.
Then, Alex’s voice comes over the intercom, warm, strained, but steady: "Ladies and gentlemen, we've landed safely at JFK. Please remain in your seats with your seatbelts fastened until further instructions."
Henry takes a deep breath, then springs into action. He knows the drill - they need to evacuate quickly and efficiently. He stands, addressing the cabin in a clear, authoritative voice:
"Everyone, please remain calm. We're going to evacuate the aircraft as a precaution. Leave all belongings behind. When we open the doors, follow the lighted pathway to the exits."
He moves to the nearest emergency exit, ready to deploy the slide. He throws the door open as soon as he gets the all-clear from the cockpit. The inflatable slide deploys with a loud hiss. He can see from afar that Spencer and Amy did the same with the other doors.
"Exit here!" Henry calls out, gesturing to the passengers nearest him. "Arms crossed, legs together, jump and slide!"
He helps passengers to their feet, guiding them to the exit. Some are crying, others look shell-shocked, but most move quickly, spurred by adrenaline and the desire to be on solid ground.
"Move away from the aircraft once you're down!" he shouts over the noise of the storm and the commotion.
As the last passengers make their way out, Henry does a final sweep of the cabin, checking every row to ensure no one is left behind. He shouts to the rest of the crew that they can get out too.
Liam emerges from the cockpit, and Henry pulls him into a brief, relieved hug. Liam nods, his expression one of weary pride before he hurries down the evacuation slide. Henry watches as Liam is immediately enveloped in a tight embrace by his husband, Spencer, the worry and fear of the ordeal clear on Spencer's face.
Henry lingers, glancing back towards the open cockpit door. He sees Alex, smoothing his hands down the front of his uniform jacket. The pilot's fingers tremble slightly, the adrenaline clearly starting to wear off.
"Good work, Captain," Henry says, offering Alex a warm smile as he approaches.
Alex looks up, returning the smile. "Everybody's out?" he asks, his gaze searching.
"Yes, just you and me now," Henry confirms. He pauses, studying Alex's face, noting the lines of fatigue and the lingering tension. "Are you alright?"
Alex lets out a weary chuckle. "Just thinking of all the fucking paperwork this will entail," he quips, shaking his head.
Henry can't help but laugh. "Oh, come on, you know you love a good spreadsheet," he teases, stepping closer. He watches Alex, his heart swelling with a mix of admiration and concern. He reaches out, placing a gentle hand on Alex's arm.
"You were incredible out there," Henry says, his voice soft and sincere. "I don't know how you and Liam managed to keep it all together, but you did it. You brought us home safely."
Alex looks at him, a weary but grateful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "We just did what we had to do," he murmurs. "I’m not gonna lie, it was touch and go there for a while, but..." He trails off, shaking his head slightly.
“Come here,” Henry says, pulling Alex in his arms, and Alex wraps his arms tightly around him, burying his face in the crook of Henry’s neck, and Henry can feel him relaxing somewhat.
"I'm so proud of you," Henry whispers, one hand gently running through Alex's hair. "You were amazing, love."
The soft words and endearment slip out naturally, and Henry doesn’t even think of feeling awkward about it as Alex tightens his embrace even more.
“I had some incentive,” Alex replies,
“By incentive, I assume you mean the two hundred souls you managed to save today?”
Alex’s lips quirk up. “Yeah. That too.”
They stay like that for a long moment, wrapped in each other's arms, the sounds of the rescue effort fading into the background. In this small, private space, it's just the two of them, away from prying eyes, and Henry indulges in a moment of weakness as he frames Alex's face with his hand and presses a kiss on his lips. The kiss remains chaste while at the same time conveying a lot of -yet - unspoken emotions.
Fuck, they just avoided a plane crash, he’s allowed to feel sentimental.
Somebody calls their name, so they both slide down, where they are immediately taken care of by paramedics. Then Henry is reunited with Amy and Julia, and they share tight hugs as well, relieved after making it safely home.
He loses track of Alex for a while after they are brought into the airport building, and his heart plummets at the thought that he may have already been asked to do a primary report of what happened. Just as he resigns himself to go home alone, Alex appears at his side, and Henry almost cries with relief.
“We're allowed to leave,” He informs Henry. “The luggage will be taken care of and delivered to their owners in the following days.”
Henry nods. It’s the usual procedure, no real surprise there.
He looks at Alex, taking in his slightly disheveled appearance - the curls in disarray under his pilot's cap and the dark lines under his eyes. Henry probably doesn't look much better himself. He knows Alex asked him on a date just a couple of hours ago, and he is incredibly excited about the prospect, especially since they made it out of this ordeal alive and well. Right now, what he really wants to do is go home and take care of his man if Alex lets him.
Alex turns to Henry, a small smile playing on his lips. "About that dinner," he says, his voice low and tired. "Maybe it would be better to postpone it for another time? I don’t exactly feel like dressing up and going to a restaurant, to be honest.”
“I was about to suggest the same thing,” Henry agrees, mirroring his smile. He reaches out, taking Alex’s hand. “Come home with me?” he asks.
Alex looks relieved at the offer, and his eyes soften. “I’d love to, sweetheart.”
They make it to the arrival entrance, where a row of taxis is waiting for customers, and they climb into the first one. Henry gives the driver his address, and as he sits back and the car pulls away from the curb, he feels Alex’s hand coming to rest on his thigh, the warmth of his touch seeping through the fabric. Henry’s breath hitches ever so slightly, and he’s made acutely aware of how much he missed Alex’s touch, and all he can think of all of a sudden is getting rid of those clothes and finally, finally, feeling Alex’s skin against his.
By the heated look Alex is giving him, the feeling is mutual.
The tension between them is palpable, the events of the day weighing heavily but also igniting a different kind of energy. They don’t talk, and the silence is electric. Henry is hyper-aware of every shift in Alex’s posture, of the subtle brush of their thighs and shoulders as the taxi navigates the streets. Henry puts his hand on Alex’s, playing with his fingers. He lets his head fall back against the headrest, turning his face towards Alex, who leans in. Henry closes his eyes as he feels Alex’s lips ghost over his cheek, nose, and mouth. His warm breath just grazes the skin but doesn't touch it– they both know that if they start, they won't be able to stop.
As the taxi finally pulls up to Henry's house, the anticipation between them has reached a fever pitch. Henry fumbles with his wallet, hastily paying the driver before practically dragging Alex out of the car.
They stumble up the front steps, Henry's hands shaking slightly as he tries to unlock the door. The moment they cross the threshold, it's as if a dam has broken. Henry barely has time to kick the door shut behind them before Alex is on him, pressing him against the hallway wall.
Their lips crash together in a desperate, hungry kiss. The week of absence and the adrenaline from their harrowing experience fuel their desire. Henry's hands roam over Alex's body, tugging at his uniform jacket, eager to feel skin beneath his fingertips.
Alex breaks the kiss just long enough to shrug off his jacket, letting it fall to the floor. His hands make quick work of Henry's shirt buttons, pushing the fabric off his shoulders. Their lips meet again, hot and insistent, as they continue to undress each other with frantic urgency.
Henry gasps as Alex's lips trail down his neck, leaving a path of fire in their wake. He threads his fingers through Alex's curls, dislodging his pilot's cap in the process. Their hips press together, and Henry moans as he feels the evidence of how much Alex wants him.
In their haste, they lose balance. Henry trips over Alex's discarded jacket, and they both tumble to the hallway floor. For a split second, they freeze, startled by the sudden change in position.
“I thought we would at least make it to the couch,” Alex says with a low chuckle.
"Forget the couch. I want you," Henry gasps, his hands roaming over Alex's now-bare chest.
Alex responds by grinding his hips down, eliciting a moan from Henry. "Right here?" he asks, his voice husky with desire.
Henry has the fleeting thought that the entrance is probably not the most sanitary place to do this, but his need for Alex quickly obliterates that thought. So he nods frantically, beyond caring about the discomfort of the floor or the fact that they haven't even made it past the hallway. All he can focus on is Alex – the weight of him, the taste of his skin, the way his hands seem to leave trails of fire wherever they touch, the way the hardwood floor is cool against Henry's bare back, a stark contrast to the heat of Alex's body pressed against him.
Henry fumbles with Alex's belt, his fingers clumsy and urgent. He finally manages to unbuckle it and slides the zipper down, freeing Alex’s cock from both his trousers and his briefs.
"Where's my jacket?" Alex mutters.
Henry, his hand wrapped around Alex's throbbing erection, pauses. "Why?"
Alex reaches for his discarded jacket, rummaging through the inside pocket before revealing a small bottle of lube. "We're going to need this."
Henry chuckles. "You keep lube in your uniform jacket?"
Alex grins. "Well, I had high hopes for that Mile High Club thing."
Henry rolls his eyes, biting his lower lip in anticipation as he watches Alex apply the smooth gel to his fingers. His legs part eagerly, allowing Alex to slip his hand between his thighs. A loud moan escapes him as he feels Alex's fingers tease around his rim, a shiver of excitement coursing through him until a single finger presses at his entrance. Suddenly, a flash of discomfort ripples through his body, making him tense up, and Alex instinctively withdraws his hand.
“Hey, baby. Look at me.”
Henry exhales shakily, confused by what is happening. He meets Alex’s gaze, full of warmth and understanding.
“I didn't realize I was still so... on edge. I'm sorry.”
"Don’t apologize. It’s been a hell of a day, and we don’t have to do anything if you’re not up for it."
"No, I want to. I need you, Alex. I just need a moment."
"We have all night, sweetheart. Take your time."
They resume kissing, lazily making out for a few minutes. Alex’s touch is gentle, caressing, as Henry tries to relax and let go of everything else. Eventually, he guides Alex’s hand back between his legs.
As Alex gradually opens Henry up, his fingers moving with confidence and care, any lingering tension melts away, replaced by waves of growing pleasure.
Every touch and movement is deliberate, driving Henry to moan softly as his body responds eagerly. The initial discomfort forgotten, he's now completely focused on the sensations building within him, rising in intensity with each passing moment.
Alex, attuned to Henry’s every reaction, takes his time, ensuring each moment feels right. His gentle yet firm touch sends sparks of ecstasy coursing through Henry, who arches his back slightly, feeling heat coiling at the base of his spine, his cock achingly hard between their stomachs. With a skilled twist of his fingers, Alex alternates between purposefully missing and just grazing Henry's prostate, causing him to jolt and gasp, rocking on Alex’s fingers in desperate pleasure.
“I’m ready, love,” he murmurs, the words escaping more like a soft whine.
When Alex pushes into him slowly but steadily, Henry nearly sobs at how good it feels and how much he missed this, even for one stupid week. He wraps his legs around Alex’s waist, his heels digging into his back, shifting his hips so Alex is fully sheathed inside him, blissfully deep.
Alex looks at him with such awe on his face, such tenderness that Henry wants to commit this to memory. He grips the back of Alex's neck, pulling him closer as their mouths meet in another searing kiss, tongues tangling with primal hunger. Each kiss deepens, a blend of softness and fervor, as they lose themselves in the taste of one another—sweet and intoxicating.
“ Fuck Alex, move,” Henry pants urgently when he realizes his partner hasn’t budged since he’s inside.
Alex chuckles. “Okay, okay, geez. I was just enjoying the moment. Keep your pants on.”
Henry gives him a heated glare. “Well, that would defeat the purpose, now, wouldn’t it?”
They stare at each other for a second before starting to laugh, which quickly turns into moans as Alex finally starts thrusting.
Henry has known since they started this that they wouldn’t last long for that first round, and after only a few thrusts, he feels Alex’s body tense above him, signaling he’s close. Henry can feel the beginning of his orgasm tingling in his toes, and it only takes him a few more seconds to fall over the edge, coming untouched, a breathy laugh escaping his throat as he experiences the most intense orgasm of his life. There is nothing except Alex’s tongue, his cock, and his body and their shared pleasure, and with the explosion of euphoria comes an almost equally intense feeling of relief.
They are here. They are alive and together.
His vision blurs, and for a heartbeat, everything goes dark. When consciousness floods back, Henry finds himself gazing into Alex's eyes. They are brimming with emotions - relief, joy, and something more profound that steals Henry's breath away.
Alex's hand is cupping Henry's face, his touch grounding and reassuring and he feels the gentle brush of Alex's knuckles against his cheek.
"Welcome back, baby," Alex murmurs, his voice warm and filled with affection. The corner of his mouth lifts in a soft smile, and for a minute, Henry loses himself in that smile, in the feeling of safety surrounding him.
He clears his throat. “That was…”
“Fucking incredible, yeah,” Alex finishes with a grin.
Henry laughs. “Quite. Nothing like ‘nearly-die-in-a-plane-crash’ sex.”
“Right now, I’m more partial to a ‘nearly-die-in-a-plane-crash’ shower.”
Henry hums in agreement, suddenly aware of the stickiness coating his stomach, of the smell of sweat and sex, and also the fact that they spent a good part of their day confined in an aircraft.
Christ, they didn’t even wash their hands.
He grimaces, both at the idea and at Alex pulling out, although he intends to remedy that part at least once, preferably twice, within the next hour.
They collect their scattered clothes, exchanging small talk, letting the quietness of the house soothe their mind after the chaos of the day. A few moments later, they're under the shower, the warm water cascading over them, rinsing away the day's fatigue and physical strain while the emotional intensity lingers. They take turns lathering each other, their touches both cleansing and comforting, sharing lazy kisses. Henry’s hands explore the contours of Alex’s body, fingers trailing down his chest, savoring the way the muscles flex beneath his touch.
Alex’s cock twitches with interest, and Henry smirks. He sinks to his knees, the tiles cool and hard under his skin, and he gives Alex a sultry look from beneath his eyelashes - they are not as spectacular as Alex’s, but they still have the desired effect.
“I think Captain Claremont-Diaz deserves a reward for bringing us home safe,” he drawls, and Alex gives him a playful salute.
“It was my pleasure, and - oh, fuck!” he lets out a few expletives as Henry wraps his lips around his length, making sure to show him how absolutely grateful he is for his skills as a pilot - amongst other things.
Two explosive orgasms later, they are in the kitchen, enjoying a late-evening snack and a glass of wine. This is not the date that Henry had envisioned earlier, but he wouldn’t trade this moment for anything. They need to have a conversation, obviously, and make sure they are on the same page when it comes to their relationship and where they see things going, but right now Henry is still too wired up, the need to touch Alex and be enveloped in his warmth, his strong arms, to feel his skin against his almost overwhelming.
Which is why they go for a third round a bit later, this time comfortably settled in Henry’s bed, Alex jokes that he wants to get the pillow princess treatment, and Henry is only too happy to oblige. He straddles Alex’s lap, still loose from their earlier session, and after a quick prep, he lowers himself slowly, excruciatingly on his cock, moaning as he feels Alex’s every inch filling him completely.
“Fuck, baby, you’re killing me,” Alex pants.
Henry leans forward, pressing his chest against Alex's, delighting in the skin-on-skin contact. He shifts his hips, changing the angle and drawing Alex even deeper.
"Wouldn't it be silly," Henry muses in a sultry voice, "for you to skillfully avoid a plane crash only to die buried balls deep inside my arse?"
Alex grins, his hands tightening on Henry's waist. "But a much better way to go."
Henry begins to move with a languid rhythm, savoring each rise and fall as he feels Alex deeply within him. Their breaths synchronize, a mixture of soft moans and whispered names filling the room. He leans slightly, hands resting on Alex's chest for support, fingers splayed across his skin. Alex's hands guide his movements, fingers pressing into Henry’s hips to maintain the perfect pace. Their eye contact remains unbroken, vivid with emotion and desire, each knowing exactly what the other is feeling.
“God, you feel incredible,” Henry gasps. s
Henry’s movements become more urgent, and Alex responds by thrusting upward, meeting Henry's rhythm with enthusiasm, driving them both toward the brink.
Finally, with a shared gasp that mingles relief and ecstasy, they reach their peak together, and pleasure spreads through Henry’s body with such intensity that he almost doesn’t hear it.
I love you so much.
The words hang in the air and Henry cringes. Bloody hell, he had been so good at not letting it slip out until now.
But then it hits him.
Oh.
Oh.
Henry’s not the one who said the words.
Alex did.
Beneath him, Alex's body tenses, a sudden stillness overtaking him. Their eyes meet briefly before Alex's gaze darts away, his lashes fluttering as he looks anywhere but at Henry, who remains motionless above him.
After an agonizing pause, Alex speaks, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry," he begins, stumbling over his words. "It wasn't... I didn't..." He trails off, leaving the sentence unfinished.
Henry feels a sharp twist in his chest. "You didn't mean it?"
Alex's eyes snap back to Henry's, a fierce light igniting within them. He sits up abruptly, arms encircling Henry's waist, uncaring that he’s still inside him.
"No! I mean, yes, I did!" Alex's words tumble out in a rush. "I absolutely meant it." His gaze softens, earnestness radiating from every feature. "Baby, I meant every word. I love you. I just…didn’t mean to blurt it out like that."
Henry feels a warmth spreading through him, dispelling the terrible moment of doubt. He smiles, framing Alex’s face with his hands, and his mouth hovers over Alex’s as he murmurs softly, "Good. Because I love you too."
Their lips meet into another deep, loving kiss, and Henry can’t help but let out a little hum of contentment, joy, and relief at having Alex reciprocate his feelings.
Reluctantly, Alex pulls back, a soft smile on his lips. “I have a gift for you.”
Curiosity piqued, Henry lifts himself off from Alex’s cock, grimacing a bit at the emptiness that follows. With a kiss, Alex disentangles himself from the sheets and bends over to retrieve his jacket, rummaging through his pocket, his back turned to Henry. He sighs softly at the well-defined muscles and well-toned backside presented to him.
“You’re looking at my ass, aren’t you?” Alex asks, still turned, and Henry chuckles.
“I have functioning eyeballs, love. And it is quite a great arse.”
Returning to the bed, Alex holds a small velvet pouch in his hand. He settles beside Henry, their shoulders touching. "It's not much," Alex says softly, a hint of color rising in his cheeks. "But I saw it while doing some shopping in Austin and thought of you."
He watches as Alex's fingers, usually so sure and steady, fumble slightly with the pouch's drawstring. Whatever is inside clearly holds significance for Alex, and Henry feels a surge of love and adoration for this man who can manoeuver an airplane through a terrible storm with only one engine working , yet become endearingly flustered over giving a gift.
Alex carefully opens the pouch, revealing two delicate bracelets nestled inside. He gently tips them onto his palm, the fine chains glinting in the soft light of the bedroom. Each bracelet bears a small, initial charm - one with an 'A' and the other with an 'H’.
"At first," Alex begins, his voice soft and intimate, "I bought the 'A' for myself and thought it would be nice to get the 'H' for you. Just matching bracelets with our own initials, you know?" He pauses, a hint of vulnerability flickering in his eyes. "But then... I had this idea. What if we wore each other's?"
Henry's breath catches in his throat as he gazes at the delicate bracelets nestled in Alex's palm. The thoughtfulness of the gift, the layers of meaning behind it, makes his heart grow with an even deeper love for this remarkable man.
Alex continues, words tumbling out in a rush, "I want you to know it's not some weird ownership claim thing or anything like that-"
Henry cut him off gently, taking Alex's hand in his own. "Alex. What if I want it to be?”
Alex's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, a slow grin spreading across his face. "Really?"
Henry nods, feeling a heady rush of happiness and boldness course through his veins. "Really," he affirms. "I want the world to know I'm yours, darling. And," he adds, lifting Alex's hand to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles, "that you're mine."
Alex’s eyes shine with unshed tears, and a trembling smile graces his lips. "I am yours," he says quietly. "Completely and utterly yours."
They help each other fasten the bracelets - Henry wearing the 'A' and Alex the 'H'.
They share a soft giggle as they admire the fine jewelry, Henry relishing the barely-there sensation of the cool metal against his skin.
"I love you," he says again, the words feeling both familiar and thrillingly new on his tongue.
Alex's response is to pull Henry close, capturing his lips in another tender kiss.
Though they don't go for a fourth round that night, they more than make up for it in the morning. Afterward, basking in the afterglow, they have a heartfelt conversation about navigating this new chapter in their relationship. Henry doesn't doubt for a moment that they'll make it work.
Henry proudly wears his bracelet when he returns to work, although it is so discreet that no one notices. It doesn’t matter. It brings him comfort to look at it when they are not flying together, and he always feels a rush of love and pride whenever they’re together, and he catches sight of his 'H' on Alex's wrist.
The sentiment remains the same when they get their initials engraved in their wedding band two years later.