Work Text
Namjoon piles his seaweed salad into the middle of his plastic tray. His chopsticks then angrily jab down into it as he imagines it is the voodoo doll for whatever caused his flight delay. Namjoon dreamed of snaring the glorious life of a world traveler. As a child, he’d studied various cultures, always opting to do his book reports on foreign places. Growing up, his passion for writing developed after nights plowing through internet forums, planning trips he’d never attempt. Namjoon’s life only continued to go up, which should make his constant time in the air and hotels a welcomed triumph to his life ambitions.But it’s the reason for his travels that leaves him disgruntled. He thinks back on the events that got him here as he swirls the seaweed salad to the outer edges of the small carton. Like many people his age, Namjoon excelled through all his forms of education. But, his impeccable academics, his discoveries, and his amicable reputation led him to miss out on the golden ticket: 3-5 years experience.After graduating, Namjoon struggled to find work. With a philosophy degree, he already knew the battle would be hard, but he didn’t expect it to be this hard. He already acquired a lengthy list of publications and presentations, but topics of transnationalism and cultural identity failed to interest companies looking for tech writers with coding experiences or copy editors wanting a previous intern.Somehow, though, he managed to snag a ghostwriting position for insurance companies. The message boards he’d never left since high school won him friends around the world. When he vented about his typical millennial debut, someone enlisted him as a freelance copywriter. Namjoon’s academic training in identities had given him the “Experience” he needed to mold work into what the corporate machine demanded.Sure, he didn’t expect to be a nameless face configuring happy phrases into the fine print of manuals, but it got him on the path he needed. He would continue to go up the ladder. Literally. He flew around the country multiple times a month when he needed to pitch larger works to clients who demanded a specific air for an insurance policy no one would ever read.So here he sat, in his usual seat at the airport’s sushi kiosk, shuffling around seaweed salad. Flicking a finger over the screen, his phone reassured him, yes, his flight remained two hours delayed. His destination currently experiencing “adverse weather,” causing him to wonder how much longer he can play racquet ball with his food. Airplanes, man’s greatest invention, scurried across a slab of concrete, taxiing hundreds of disgruntled passengers to and fro.Namjoon imagined 50 people huddled in the walkway of the aircraft, already flinging bags from overhead bins, hitting neighbors they hadn’t spoken a word to in 5 hours in the head with a bag strap or stepping on their feet. Any possible chivalry is tossed to the side when it comes to high tailing it out of the aircraft. The competitive energy made the planes stuffy in addition to the stale oxygen pumping through the vents on all sides.Here in the terminal, Cinnabon, McDonald's, and hundreds of clean or distressed bodies congested the air. And bored annoyance, just like the sensations Namjoon oozed into the environment around him. Glancing left and right, he noticed that most of the other sushi lovers suffered the same anguish. He also noticed that one of them happened to be staring right at him.Jin absolutely despised being stationed at this airport. The overhead telecom always droned with missing passengers and lost bags. The staff lounge that managed to always disappoint him find new creative ways each visit: in this week’s edition, the water pipes burst so there was no food or running water. What a mystery that every other place in the large yet remarkably stuffy building managed to function.He had greater reasons for his hatred nowadays. Yoongi. His aloof ex who currently waltzed right into Jin’s line of vision, subconsciously or quite possibly deliberately nulling their mutual agreement to avoid each other at all costs.Five years. Five long years filled with continuous reminders not to date anyone with an aviation-related career, only for life to constantly remind him that no escape from aviation was in his immediate future, sexual or not. Many of his conquests or regrets tended to be at foreign destinations. In incredulous irony, he regularly discovered his partners shared a similar field. Maybe the clear resentment for souvenirs and bagged pretzels drew them together.Travel had been Jin’s dream. He visited China twice in undergrad and scored a good deal with Singapore airlines due to his trilingualism. The problem was, Jin’s resume didn’t quite speak for his Chinese skills, which, may he say, he quickly realized he couldn’t speak at all. Jin pops two pieces of rainbow sushi into his mouth, barely chewing and swallowing, creating a Pavlovian connection between the pain and Yoongi.The motherfucker traversed across the open expanse of terminal B. A stark, jagged crack in Jin’s view of the lovely, sunny field of planes. His simple appearance was enough to ruin Jin’s day. He was a bad mistake, and even worse when Jin realized how he and Yoongi just didn’t match well. Sure, they’d been great friends in the lounge, but taking it further into the back for a few quick rounds proved problematic.Apparently, Jin saying “God I love the way that feels,” translated to “I love you.” Over the following weeks, Yoongi had ghosted him until 4am one morning, sending him an incredibly long text about how he just wasn’t ready for “that kind of” relationship.Jin had been mad. Not because he liked Yoongi, but the whole situation. So, he’d figured out who was gonna be on Yoongi’s next flight and fucked them. Oh, he loved that, Yoongi.Yoongi’s saunter between the airport belts paused and he brought his watch close to his face. Always particular about time, Jin scoffs to himself, mostly his time and how he spent it. Jin sputters when Yoongi glances towards the lounge above the sushi bar. In a panic, Jin finds anything else to focus on, landing on the man next to him. He seems to be drawing a picture in his seaweed salad.The man’s shoulders heave in a huge sigh. Jin smiles in solidarity, that taboo sense of relief that comes from knowing someone else isn’t having a good time. The faint pull of a smile vanishes when the man swerves his head to Jin, like he knew he’d been watching.His head tilted, resting on his palm, trying to appear nonchalant. The man’s chopsticks snap and he simply pulls another from under his carton, like this was a regular occurrence. A slight smile tugged at Jin’s lips, taking him by surprise.“That’s quite the art piece you’ve got going on there,” Jin couldn’t help the tease sneaking into his tone. The comment finally breaks the man out of his frantic chopstick recovery. The man adjusts his swivel stool, facing Jin head on. He gives a tired grin, arm propped on the counter, narrowly missing his drink.“Fair point, maybe I should have gone into art instead,” the man muses. Jin wonders if he phrased the question on purpose to get Jin to ask what he does.“Oh?” Jin takes the bait. He has a few hours to kill and still needs to avoid his innate urge to make eye contact with Yoongi. “What do you do?”“I’m a ghostwriter,” the man says.Jin feels a joke creeping on, “What did the ghost’s wife say when he won an award?” the man shrugs his shoulders, eyebrows drawn in confusion. “Boo!” Jin cups his mouth, imitating an angry fan. A blank stare sweeps across the man’s face before he is biting his bottom lip, staring down into his lap with shaking shoulders. Jin sits up straighter. Someone can appreciate his sense of humor. Unlike someone who has probably walked on by at this point but who cares.When the man looks back up, a large smile covers his face, dimples forming on his cheeks. Jin wants to pinch his cheeks with how boyish he now looks. He closes his notebook and takes off his glasses, picking up his drink.“I’m Namjoon,” the now-named Namjoon raises his drink to Jin. He responds with his own name and taps his sparkling water to Namjoon’s beer.“So, you are obviously a flight attendant…?” Namjoon guesses, giving Jin the up-down that lingers long enough to boost Jin’s ego.“Of course, one of Singapore Airlines’ finest,” Jin waves his hand to terminal C. “Are we assisting you in your journey today?” He inquires in his airplane voice. Namjoon pauses before another large grin appears on his face.“Woah, nice switch,” He chuckles.“Switch?”“Well, when I looked over you seemed pretty bummed. You know slouched, jacket thrown over. Almost like you quit your job.”“Oh…” Jin eyed the stranger. What the hell, why not? “I have to work with my ex. Let me tell you, this is the worst business to date in. Never wanna get stuck in the air with an ex for 14 hours, never know what’s going to happen.”Namjoon’s eyebrows are raised into his hair. “Are they crazy?”“No, but I am!” Jin practically shouts. He begins giggling and Namjoon does too.“Hey, crazy sells,” Namjoon shrugs and sips on his drink. Jin can’t help noticing how his bottom lip steadies the glass as he gives it a light tilt.Time passes surprisingly fast as Jin talks to the ghostwriter. Namjoon tells him about where he is headed, how he books clients and presents work in person to negotiate the change in character. He enjoys it, the exploration and moldability of self, and Jin finds amusement in how intelligent the guy speaks despite almost knocking over his glasses three times. One joke Jin sneaks in has Namjoon laughing so hard that he writes it down, and Jin loses his (vibe/ego/words?).Eventually, both men have to make their way towards their gates. Jin bids Namjoon goodbye.“Hey so…” Namjoon rushes out as Jin pulls his jacket off his stool. Jin grips the collar tighter at the comment, wondering what could be coming.“I come in and out of this airport a lot. And I never have anyone reach out to talk to me. Are you, perhaps, working Mondays at this airport frequently?” Namjoon rubs at his face nervously. “In case, I don’t know, I have another delay and am looking for someone to pretend I enjoy sushi with?” Namjoon misses the way the waitress gives him an angry side eye. Good thing he’s already ordered and paid.He seems genuine, but Jin finds it hard to give him more than a small smile. This guy could be trying to corner him on his shifts. But the shy smile he’s flashing at him, one dimple appearing to the side, Jin leans in on the back of Namjoon’s chair. The man’s eyes go wide and he tucks his lips in. Cute.“I may be around, just look for me up there.” He points near the military deck which has a small, blue sign off to the side which readers “staff lounge”. “Just ask for me, I’m the one and only Jin.” He winks and practically coughs out a laugh at the way Namjoon’s eyes get impossibly wider.“Totally, I definitely will. Yeah. Thanks,” He stutters out, reaching out his fist to bump. Jin blinks at it before lightly tapping his knuckles to it. Unexpected.“Stellar,” Jin responds as he slings his jacket over his shoulder and walks off, a slight saunter in his hips.--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Namjoon loves traveling. He loves seeing new places, meeting new people. The work he does settles heavy in the bottom of his stomach at times, but he reminds himself that critiquing is by far his specialty over creating content himself. It’s like much more hands-on editing. He even loves the insurance copywriting, when he imagines the employers reading through his material after meeting him. He always enjoys finding new restaurants or coffee shops in the cities he visits or checking to see which old friends may be nearby. He always finds a way to enjoy himself.But this week, he can’t love it. He glances down at his phone for unknown reasons, regularly reminding himself he didn’t even ask for the flight attendant’s number (because that would be creepy, right? Right? Did he fuck up again?). Namjoon counts down the days, unsure if the man named Jin will be at the staff lounge when he convinces himself to go by. He rushes through his work, surprisingly efficient with an end goal in mind. Exactly what goal that is, Namjoon still isn’t sure. It was just a great conversation with a hot flight attendant at the sushi bar. A really hot flight attendant. Who somehow had worse jokes than he himself knew.He can keep it cool. Namjoon prepares his plan as he makes his way through the airport back home. Nonchalant, glance by the lounge, see if those shoulders are standing out, and if he’s not there, it’s whatever. Because Namjoon is in that airport all the time. And hopefully, Jin is, too.Nevertheless, Namjoon finds himself bouncing a bit in his seat once he’s on the flight back to his hometown boarded the place, thinking of the possibilities. He tries to remind himself nothing is assured, but he’s banking on hope. Blame it on his roommate using it as a nickname.So Namjoon is amazed at how all the joy leaves his body when he the safety check for his aisle is conducted by none other than Jin. Standing in the entryway, waving his long arms toward both the exits. Jin looks straight ahead, a small smile rounding his cheeks as he runs through the motions. Namjoon follows his arms in the rhythmic way his hands graze by his greatest features: broad shoulders, strong neck, large eyes. Jin bows for the end of the safety demonstration and begins closing overhead bins.Without thinking, Namjoon ducks his head into the folded tray of the seat in front of him, retucking his bag. Each “thunk” of the bins slamming shut makes his heart beat harder. He scolds himself, unsure of why he needs to hide. He chews his bottom lip. Maybe because he seems like a stalker? Wait, is he even a stalker if he already had this flight booked? Is Jin stalking him? Is his heart racing in a good or bad way now?
Click.
Namjoon tugs at his bag beneath his seat and hears the clinking sound again. His computer bag’s strap clings to underneath the seat hook. The hook keeps his bag from tucking under the seat, sticking into the aisle. Clearly not safe for takeoff. He fidgets with it, swearing under his breath.“Sir can I help you with-“ Jin’s voice stops when Namjoon’s face shoots up in fear, glasses slipping to the tip of his nose. Jin’s smile fades at the speed his eyes grow wide. “Nam…joon?” He manages, that same small smile from the instructions pulling up his cheeks into rosy apples.But this time, his eyes squint, too. It looks real. Namjoon likes it. And Namjoon likes that it looks real for him. He tries to return the smile, but the motion makes his glasses plunge off the edge of his nose. Jin reaches out to catch them, folds them, and places them on the tray in front of Namjoon’s lap.“Sir, can I help you with your bag?” Jin winks. The return to formality takes Namjoon off guard, so he simply nods and observes Jin’s shirt ruffle as he effortlessly untwists the bag and resituates it. “Please prepare for take-off.”Watching Jin continue closing bins and correcting customers’ seats, Namjoon grumbles to himself when he can’t be so obvious as to turn around and watch Jin’s jacket rise over his hips, showing his streamlined waist with each snap of the bin. He settles in his seat and buckles the belt, glasses twirling through his fingers. He clears his throat as the sudden realization makes his throat dry.The next 5 hours will be spent in the same proximity as the man he had desperately been wanting to see. He is not prepared.He spends the first thirty minutes after takeoff trying to look around the plane, stretching his arms as an excuse until the elderly woman next to him gives a large huff. He smiles weakly and knows he’s being ridiculous.Instead, he pulls out his notepad and pen, hoping to distract himself with work or anything around him. He glances passed the elderly woman to the lightning bright view from the window. He loves watching the world lazily pass by below despite the incredible speeds. It reminds him of his own life, seeming to rush by in a world that lazily rotated the sun day in and day out.The ground grows smaller below, everything he found enjoyable in the city suddenly fitting into the foot-tall view of the airplane window. The landscape looks like peanut butter brownies, the dead brown trees swirling around developments and the winter trees managed to survive an incredibly dry winter. Man organized the landscape in geometric patterns, occasionally disrupted by nature’s revolt with a lake or large patch of undeveloped expanse. Namjoon smiled, finding it odd that he lived in the same city for 20 years and could never locate any landmarks from up here in the sky. Unaware of which way he headed after takeoff, he couldn’t even be sure which lake he cheers on to overtake the surrounding million-dollar houses.The large silver wing stretching out into the periwinkle oblivion struck against the edge of his view. Rusted, old, aged next to the immortal gloss of the night, it chases down the sun as the clock ticked backward. Strange, to think time ran backward as Namjoon continued on forward.The ding of the seatbelt sign turning off snaps Namjoon from his writing. He’s been sipping his water through his whole philosophical experience with the landscape. The sudden urge to write it all down now dwindled compared to his urge to pee. Apparently, about six other passengers were having the same epiphany, seatbelts unclicking and groans muffling through the cabin as people made their way to the toilets. So he stands up to make his way to the back of the plane before he settles in to do some real work.As he makes it to the door, a disappointing lack of surprise curls in his temples when he once again is not the first to think of the idea. Both bathrooms read occupied. To not block the way, he shuffles past the bathrooms and into the backend of the plane so the last rows of people don’t feel any more cramped. Leaning against the wall of doodads and cabinets, he looks for a window again.Instead, he finds Jin. Legs crossed, hands resting on his knee, Jin is smiling at one of the female flight attendants who readies a refreshments cart. His light chuckle floats through the back of the plane before he makes eye contact with Namjoon. He swears he sees Jin’s eyes darken; with what, he’s not sure.Jin has been flying for years, but he’d never even considered the mile high club until he saw the adorable lanky guy from the airport, shuffling his bag around in his seat that his lanky legs are way too long for, asking for his attention. How they’d been on the same flight was an aggravating coincidence. Aggravating to the safety of Jin’s sanity and his career.Nothing could stop him from considering it when Namjoon’d flashed that wide smile, dimples reminding Jin of all the possible ideas he’d had back at that terrible sushi kiosk. It hadn’t helped that he was thinking things specifically to spite Yoongi, and maybe he is feeling that now, but regardless.He was content to sit back here and daydream for a bit before he had to make the food rounds. He was content to possibly talk to Namjoon a bit, give him some good service. He never expected the opportunity for all three to be standing in the cramped space of the airplane with him so soon. He hoped the gnawing thought of the possibilities of the next two hours didn’t show on his face.“Ah,” Jin says, a slight twitch in his smile. Too good to be true. “Hi there, are you stalking me?”Namjoon’s folded arms shoot to his sides, form rigid. Jin holds in the urge to laugh. “I was thinking the same thing!” he practically shouts. Peering over his shoulder, he moves closer to Jin. Jin flexes his hands over his knees, willing them to stay still. Namjoon’s taken his jacket off, and the white t-shirt contrasts with his dark skin. A small divet in his chest has Jin struggling to maintain eye contact, suggesting what lies underneath. With some very flustered eyes, Namjoon continues “I mean, not that I’m stalking you, that you’re stalking me. Because I already booked this flight. Not that I think you are a stalker.”“What do you think of me?” Jin asks with a tilt of his head, enjoying the flustering.“I think you’re handsome,” Namjoon says, then kicks at the ground and leans back, only to close the microwave and hear it beep in retort, only to lean forward again and almost trip. Jin bursts out laughing, the sound of his gulping laughs muffled by his hands halfway through. Namjoon smiles sheepishly, his dimples still poking through on one side. Jin wants to reach out and twist his finger there.“I also think you’re handsome,” Jin says with a wink. Namjoon coughs and covers half his face in embarrassment.Namjoon finds himself in the seat next to Jin when the plane swings to the right, the turbulence feeling like potholes in the sky. Man, those people are taking a long time in the bathroom. Jin stares at him as Namjoon blinks, gripping the seat in case the plane swings again. “So, how did the meeting go?”Namjoon rubs at his neck. “It was fine. It just reminds me that I wish I could stay in college forever.” He huffs and stares out the side window, now able to see through it. He looks down at the swirling landscape again. He was feeling uncomfortable, but sitting here next to Jin’s warm smile and seeing the landscape again calms him. “Isn’t it interesting how all those meditation apps use nature, yet we constantly find nature to be a hindrance in our daily lives? For instance, nature doesn’t have the best wifi. We prefer to sit inside during summer months because bugs are a hassle. If we see the views that are in the background of tickin’ clocks and spiraled timers, we would rather take a picture or embrace it for the 30 seconds some command is flashing at us to do.”He notices he is rambling into the window and making a mental notebook entry rather than talking to Jin. He sends him yet another sheepish smile, but Jin is resting his head on his elbows. His smile is new, softening his features and Namjoon’s sheepish smile turns true.The plane shifts again and Namjoon reaches out, grabbing onto Jin’s arm in shock. He launches forward with the next few jumps, and he lurches to grab Jin’s shoulders for stability. Jin’s broad shoulders give way to lean biceps, and Namjoon curses himself for the subconscious test he squeezes out. Jin’s face is inches from his, arm braced on the wall over Namjoon’s shoulder to keep them both from falling off the seats. Namjoon’s breath stutters as he witnesses the darkening of Jin’s eyes again, still soft and questioning.The slight ping of the seatbelt sign sounds overhead.“Mr. Kim, I need you to make your way back to your seat,” Jin says quietly and gives yet another wink. Namjoon’s cheeks warm at the sound of his name. He retracts his arms and pushes off the seat, propping one hand against the cabin for balance. He nods, turning to walk to his seat, urge to pee overtaken again by something else.The script for convincing electronic users that they should be happy about the 3% increase feigned in attention compared to Jin. Namjoon tapped his pen on the notes sheet, thinking more about Jin’s arm inches from his head and what it would be like to have that arm wrapped around him. After three hours on the plane, Namjoon doesn’t have much energy left to tame his imagination. With each rustle in the back of the plane, he twists in his chair to see who approaches the aisle. Mostly to prepare himself, he said.Jin told himself no more aviation-related relationships. He said no more mixing business and pleasure. But he saw it in Namjoon’s eyes.In all honesty, he’d almost forgotten about the sushi bar man. Just another comfortable stranger to pass the time with. When he said they may see each other again, he didn’t expect fate to pencil it in.When the poor guy had locked his bag into the seat below him, Jin had seen it on his face. Excitement. Namjoon looked excited, albeit horrified, to see Jin standing over him. And witnessing Namjoon’s face staring up at him from kneeling on the floor, Jin sensed a little excited, too, if he was being honest with himself.He huffs out a large breath and leans against the wall opposite the coffee machine after finishing off the to-dos for the beverage cart. He had taken the left side, no way to make contact with Namjoon this time around, who had returned to the bathroom while Jin busied himself with refilling the snacks and considering his options.Is he actually bummed that Namjoon hadn’t tried to talk to him again? And what would they talk about anyway? What does Jin want to talk about? Why does he want to talk to him?Jin rolls his shoulders and starts rotating his neck, getting in the little stretches he could. His lips parted and a small moan escapes when his neck popped two, three times. He reaches up to rub out the tension and checks on the passengers.Two bespectacled eyes whip around and the tuff of hair disappears from a familiar plane seat. Jin covers his mouth to stop the loud laughing erupting at the dorky site. Cute, he thinks for the umpteenth time.He crosses his arms as he returns to the staff seats, rubbing at his knees. Only the fleeting memory of Namjoon only inches from him, gripping his shirt, fills his mind when he is usually counting down the minutes to the next onboard activity.A tinkering sounds as someone wedges by the drink cart. Jin glances up expectantly when he hears someone round the corner, but only Jimin appears. He straightens his jacket from the flexing around the drink cart, readjusting his waistband. It fits tight around his thighs, and Jin is surprised no one has commented on it yet. Jin brings his attention back to the nervous rubbing of his knees.“Woah there tiger,” Jimin teases. Jin cocks his head. “Those are some fierce eyes, I thought you said I wasn’t your type.”Jin cocks his head to the other side, “Are they really that fierce?” Jimin nods, absently adjusting the hair on his head. “Huh…” he pops his neck again and stretches his hands out, trying to appear relaxed. He fails.“Aw, what’s got you riled up?” Jimin pouts, plopping next to him. He crosses his legs and pulls out his phone. Jin’s attention is momentarily lost, interested in whatever Jimin may be pulling up on his phone. Nope, just Tinder 1500 feet in the air.He shakes his head, concentrating. “I think… I think it’s my turn,” he mutters, staring at Jimin with determination, hoping his vagueness and his heating ears are enough for Jimin to get the hint.“Your…” Jimin’s eyes widen before a smirk covers his face. “Oh, finally joining the mile-high team, I see? Mile High rewards program?” He elbows Jin and he feigns incredible pain, mostly for his ego.“Cover for me?” Jin begs, and Jimin runs a hand through his hair before nodding, stopping on a bio of some chick and actually reading through it.Jin takes a deep breath and stands. At least 45 minutes till the next round of refreshments. He stands up, tucks a hand in his pocket, and glances over his shoulder at Jimin. “How do I look?”“Baby, won’t you come my way?” Jimin sings quietly, raising his eyebrows at Jin’s model pose. Jin feels endures the pink dusting across his cheeks and faces forward to walk the aisle.“Oh, pop the second drawer for tea. You boys need that, right?” Jimin chimes from the back. Jin opens the drawer, sifts through, and is mildly disgusted when he finds small sample packets of lube.“How do you know that? You need this kind of stuff?” Jin inquires, dangling the packet from two fingers.Jimin rolls his eyes. “So far from the female anatomy, a tragedy. It’s dry up here and there isn’t much time. Got to help the ladies out,” Jimin rambles as he turns back to his phone.Namjoon clutches his pen so tight he knows this one may break of his own volition. The feet coming closer could be anyone, but at this point, he’s been overthinking himself into a mess.“Sir,” Namjoon practically sustains whiplash from his seatbelt at the sound of Jin’s quiet, gentle voice. He jerks up to Jin, clutching his pencil hard. Jin smiles at him, hoping the fierceness Jimin had mentioned remains. “I’m going to need you to meet me in the front of the plane regarding your luggage.”Staring up, Namjoon knows his eyes somehow, impossibly, widen and his lips break apart trying to think of something to say. Jin’s tongue darts out to cause his plump lips to glisten before he turns to walk up the rest of the aisle.Namjoon cannot believe what he’s watching. He also isn’t sure if he is experiencing the right thing. He has no luggage up front. Does Jin know? Why does he want him to go up front? Did he creep him out? Is he going to quarantine or yell at Namjoon til the flight is over? Namjoon cranes his neck into the lane to follow where Jin goes as he hastily unbuckles his seatbelt...And feels his heart fall through his stomach when Jin opens the comfort plus bathroom door, winks at him, and walks in.Only to ease between the alleyway and march into the other bathroom, cheeks dusted red. Even with the incredible surge of terrified lust expanding in Namjoon’s chest, he can’t help but chuckle.Refocusing, Namjoon stares at the two latches of the buckle folded in his lap, now free. Then back up at the now closed bathroom door. Then back at his lap which grows tighter. Did Jin… take a bathroom break before meeting up with him?Jin is an idiot. Locked in the tiny bathroom, his chest rises and falls faster, his control slipping. Thank god someone hadn’t just taken a shit in both the toilets. He folds the seat with dainty fingers before he sits, then stands again. Then leans against the wall. He surveys the entire four-foot space. How the hell did Jimin do this?? Jin may be tall, but he doesn’t know how anyone manages to get it on in a matchbox.Namjoon rolls his shoulders once, twice, clenching his jaw. I can do this, Namjoon tells himself, walking up the aisle. No one asks for a customer then goes in the bathroom for 10 minutes. And if they do, it’s clearly an emergency and they need help. He nods to himself.He stands in front of the door, taking a deep breath in and out through his nose. He balls his fists, hoping it won’t shake as he reaches for the handle, a very green and very suggestive “vacant” still showing above. The blood in Namjoon’s veins freezes when he sees something move in the corner of his eye. A steward is leaning against the curtain at the other end of the plane. Namjoon sends her a small smile.Did he… Did he just wink back? He definitely winked, Namjoon decides, after he twirls back into the cabin with a smile. It must be a sign. The only other option is embarrassment. He grabs the door and pushes in, wedging himself into the side of the bathroom.Jin thanks his narcissism for keeping him leaned against the wall opposite the mirror, because Namjoon wouldn’t be able to fit in otherwise. When the man pushes all the way inside, Jin starts to talk.“Well, Well, W-“Only Namjoon grabs the crisp lapels of his uniform and drags him into a kiss. Jin makes a stuttered noise and Namjoon pulls back instantly, letting out a huge breath like he hadn’t even breathed, and his eyes go blank.“Oh my god, this was… this wasn’t what you meant. I thought,” Namjoon’s grip starts to loosen as Jin tries to refocus from the tingling on his lips to basic motor functions. Namjoon starts to try for the door again, missing the handle and almost ripping it off when he finally grasps hold, but Jin grabs his wrist.“Yes, yeah,” is all Jin thinks to say, before he switches the door to “Occupied” and pulls Namjoon back into him. He quickly repositions his legs to slot between Namjoon’s, and a groan fills his mouth. “Yes,” Jin mumbles into Namjoon’s mouth as the latter’s tongue dances across his lip. He slips his own over his bottom lip, touching Namjoon’s tongue for the briefest second, feeling the soft tip compared to his plush lips.“This is insane,” Namjoon gasps, untucking JIn’s shirt and running shakey hands over his stomach. Jin hisses and starts yanking off his blazer, elbows knocking into everything in the small space. “Oh my god this is insane,” Namjoon muffles as he plants open-mouthed kisses down Jin’s jaw.“Shhh…” Jin whispers, his fingers threading through Namjoon’s hair and pulling hard. Jin’s stomach drops at the growl he pulls from Namjoon’s gritted teeth. He grabs both Jin’s arms and pulls them to his sides, roughly turns them around in the tiny bathroom. Jin yelps at the sudden press of the sink into his groin, Namjoon pressed against his back, pecks molding against his shoulder blades.“Take your own advice,” he growls into Jin’s ear with a nip to his earlobe. Jin mewls at the sudden change in character. He bites his lip as fingers press into the back of his thighs, forcing his legs to spread farther apart. Hot breath fans across his neck as Namjoon leans in, feeling the tight cinch of Jin’s waist under his work shirt again.“Please,” Jin whimpers as Namjoon starts to fumble with Jin’s belt from behind. Looking in the mirror, he can watch the fingers pull the belt from its loop and move to his zipper, impressed.“Is this what you wanted?” Namjoon pants as he pushes into Jin’s ass. “Walking by me, giving me those eyes, that smirk. Goddamn, that smirk,” Namjoon says, teeth grating on Jin’s neck. Jin nods his head in response, biting both his lips as Namjoon shoves his pants passed his ass. His hand runs along the line of his cock, smooth skin causing him to twitch in his hand. “Show me,” he commands. “Show me how bad you wanted this.”With difficulty, Jin brings his gaze back up and sees two dark, testing eyes staring back through the mirror over his shoulder. When he doesn’t move, Namjoon bites into Jin’s shoulder. The sight makes Jin’s mouth fall open, and a hard stroke of his cock has the slightest ghost of a smile pulling at his lips as he tries to keep from moaning out.“Beautiful,” Namjoon rewards him. But his grip disappears.Jin hears the rustling, Namjoon working at his own pants now. Jin leans his forehead into the mirror and searches through his pocket. This is not exactly the position outcome he was expecting. Jin had every intention of coming in here and pinning Namjoon to the sink he now grinded against. Now, though, all he wants is for Namjoon to fuck him into the side of this shitty, compact bathroom and see those teasing eyes staring back at him.Jin pulls the lube packet and a condom from his pants and holds it behind him. He gasps when he feels lips and teeth pull the packet from his fingers. Eyes closed and panting in anticipation, he hears the rip of the packets and the shuffle of Namjoon’s pants. A moan drops from Jin’s lips as Namjoon’s fingers trail from his lower back and tuck between his cheeks, teasing his rim only to slip right in.“Christ,” Namjoon whispers, grabbing Jin’s ass and pushing his second finger in. “Did you…?”Jin laughs into the mirror and smirks. Good thing he had given up on Namjoon coming and played with himself halfway through. “I had 10 minutes to panic in here. I made the best of my time.”“Incredible,” Namjoon praises, rubbing the head of his dick between Jin’s cheeks. Jin arches his back, pushing his hips against Namjoon, needing the room to remain comfortable. Namjoon’s hand glides with a gentle touch over his hip, up and down, before digging into Jin’s waist. He pushes in just the tip, and Jin grips the counter and the mirror, mouth falling open in a silent cry. He looks at the writer and sees his gaze has become ravenous, black pupils under hooded eyes.As he bottoms out, Namjoon runs his tongue up Jin’s nape, pressing a kiss just behind his ear. Jin curses the shudder that shook his whole body. “Tell me when you’re ready,” Namjoon says in a low voice.Jin laughs, “I’ve been ready if you-” he almost bites off his lip as Namjoon pulls out and rams up into him.“What was that?” Namjoon asks, shoving in again. Jin balls his fist and shakes his head, the unexpected confidence taking him by surprise again. “Do you like it?”Jin nods in quick succession as Namjoon pushes in hard a few more times. “Tell me, tell me you like it.” Jin lets out a light laugh at the fact that his cheeks are burning, and he wants to say it.“Fuck,” he gasps at another thrust. “I like it, please, give me more.” Namjoon hums in agreement, then pounds in hard and fast. Jin’s balled fists lose their grip and he slides into the mirror, elbows back, trying to support himself. Without breaking pace, Namjoon grabs Jin’s elbows and shifts them, albeit clumsily, in the small space. He moves Jin’s arms to grab onto the handicapped railings of the toilet.Dirty, is all Jin can think, feeling his ears burn just as hot as his face. The bars are cold under his burning skin, but the angle gives him much more leverage as Namjoon pulls him into each thrust.Jin tests his weight with one arm before wrapping a hand around his own dick. The mere fear of knowing someone could be on the other side urges him to rush things and also makes him incredibly more aroused. “Yes please give it to me,” Jin whimpers, Namjoon’s grunts keeping pace with the slide of his hand over the head of his cock.“Fuck,” Namjoon huffs out, pulling Jin’s cheeks apart and fucking in deeper. Jin keens forward, sloppy strokes to himself. Obscenities still try to pull from his bitten lips. Namjoon reaches up to wrap his arm around Jin’s collar bones, pulling him back into him. The arch hit Jin right where he needs, and he barely had time to cup a hand over his cock before cum spurts out, embarrassingly fast and hard for only a few minutes.“Thank God,” Jin hears behind him, that nervous edge Namjoon had at the sushi bar is back. Jin finds himself laughing softly despite the shaking in his limbs, Namjoon’s persona finally breaking to show his nerves. The sheer fear that someone could knock any minute has Namjoon shuttering. They switch to slow, long strokes as Namjoon rides out his high, Jin whining between gasping breaths at the sensitivity from the pace.When Jin slouches forward- completely disregarding how disgusting it was to place both hands on the toilet lid- Namjoon follows, resting his hands on either side of Jin’s. Jin likes the soft look of his skin, the delicate beds of his nails. They look effeminate next to Jin’s large, twisted fingers. It looks nice.“Fuck,” is all Namjoon manages for a minute. He places a kiss behind Jin’s ear before standing, pulling out. A pink dust returns to Jin’s ears at the sentiment, surprisingly intimate in contrast to their situation. “That was… I seriously never thought I’d be joining the mile high club in my whole life.” Namjoon laughs shyly.Jin’s lip twitches and he turns around, flopping onto the toilet seat with wobbly legs. “Next you should join our miles rewards member card, starting with 60,000 miles” he recites in his receptionist voice. He laughs to himself but follows Namjoon’s distracted gaze down his disheveled appearance. His shirt had ridden up, his pants open and sagging. He feels embarrassed, but Namjoon’s eyes look like nothing but awe. For show, Jin leans back a bit, opening his legs as he takes a tissue to clean himself up.Namjoon’s face turns an impressive color of red as he watches the show, hand coming over his mouth like it could hide the shyness. “Wow, you are something else,” he says matter-of-factly. Jin blushes and pulls his pants up.“Why thank you. You aren’t so bad yourself,” he winks and Namjoon breaks from his observations, buttoning his own pants. They both stand there for a minute re-adjusting themselves.“I… I don’t know what I am supposed to do now,” Namjoon says, rubbing the back of his neck. Jin cocks his head, surprised by the tone that sounds like Jin is the supposed expert on this. Before he can be mad, he reminds himself that he is, in fact, the flight attendant AND the initiator.Jin gives Namjoon a sweet smile, waving to the door. “How about you leave first? I need to adjust myself a bit more.” He reaches passed Namjoon, inches from his face once again, and turns the latch, the “Occupied” switching to “Vacant” -- which is the current condition of his ass right now. Jin chuckles to himself at his own joke.“Oh, yeah, makes sense. Um,” Namjoon’s hand reaches for his pocket, but then he pauses. Instead, he leans in and kisses Jin on the cheek. “Thanks,” he turns and wedges through the door similar to how he came in, ears a deep red. Jin reaches up to touch his cheek. Cute.Namjoon lacks any grace as he plunges into his seat, buckles his seatbelt, folds his tray over his dick (already hard just realizing what he just did), then surveys the direction of the bathroom door. Part of him wanted to stand guard in case anyone tried to come in, but he didn’t want it to look more incriminating. No one had looked up as he exited. Someone coughed, but no one seemed even slightly suspicious. Namjoon was somewhat in awe. Incredibly soundproof bathrooms.The minutes pass slowly. It may have only been two or three, but finally, Jin emerges from the bathroom, shutting the door neatly behind him. Namjoon isn’t sure if he is hopeful, but he thinks Jin has a small smile on his plush lips when he heads towards the front of the airplane. Namjoon had a good time, he hopes Jin did.He returns to the energy memo he needs to write, but he isn’t feeling it. Instead, he takes out his journal and a pencil and starts to scribble something else. His own work, something he wants to write. To do something he wants to do again without fear of repercussions. When Jin walks the opposite aisle, only then does he pause to follow him with his eyes. Even if Jin isn’t looking his way, Namjoon wants to believe Jin knows he’s watching at least.Realizing how creepy that sounds, Namjoon shoves his nose back into his journal.Jin doesn’t go by Namjoon’s aisle for the rest of the flight. Mostly because he now has refreshments duty and needs to ready the plane for landing, but also because he doesn't know what to do now. They fucked, bucket lists checked, and that’s it. It was nice and fun, and nice and fun isn’t what Jin’s done in awhile. So, he decides to let it be. This is where it ends. Jimin tells him something similar, though it involves a bit more references to vaginas.As the flight lands and Namjoon grumbles at the people rushing to stand in the middle way, like a bunch of mad cows unaware the gate is, in fact, not open, he prepares himself to see Jin at the end of the plan. For once, he is grateful to the people rushing by, eager to get to their gate or their luggage, and he lags near the end with a few others.He can’t help the feeling in his stomach as he passes the bathroom. Jin’s expression as he moaned into the mirror passes through his mind, and he can barely make eye contact when he recognizes the long legs at the bottom of his peripheral. He tugs his ball cap lower, hoping it hides his burning ears.When he gets to the exit of the plane, Jin and the all-knowing, tiny steward stand there with big smiles. “Thank you for flying with us, please join us again.” The steward says in a chipper voice, and Jin winks. Namjoon blanks for a second.“I’d love to.” He almost whispers, then turns to run off the plane ramp, wanting to swallow his lungs and the dumb line he just said.Jin watches at the baggy receding figure, his smile turning from polite to real. Cute.