Jetsetters

[Pocky]

With his and Harm's suitcases already at the private aircraft check-in, Trick sat waiting and watching the crowds below from his vantage point in the VIP lounge. Most passengers were seated in uncomfortable seats waiting for their gate number to be called, or they were hustling to their gate, passports in hand.

His camera equipment was in its purpose-designed backpack while his other backpack had the bare necessities of paperwork, change of clothes and other items that might come in handy on a flight. He'd never flown on a personal jet before so didn't know what to expect.

"Would Sir care for another drink?"a voice asked at his left. Trick looked up at the waiter smiling at him before his eyes dropped to the glass of water on the tray he held.

"Yes, please," Trick said, looking back up at the waiter as he was handed a tumbler of iced water without the lemon slice, as he'd requested it the first time at the bar.

"Does Sir know the first glass of champagne is complimentary?"

"Yes, the bartender told me."

"Very good."

Trick watched a quick smile flash at him before the waiter returned to the bar, taking another two drinks onto his tray for the couple that were seated at the far corner. There were more people in the VIP lounge than Trick had expected. This particular lounge, they'd been told, was to cater for private and chartered jets alone. There were only two gates available for them, so he'd been watching people come and go at an unhurried pace. Unhurried because they were collected by staff and ushered onto their waiting plane. Nobody missed flights at this lounge.

A well-groomed man dressed in a teal uniform appeared from the corridor gate. He looked at his clipboard and called out names.

"Harm and Trick?"

Trick put up his hand and stood, glancing in the direction of the washroom but Harm hadn't finished in there yet. The teal suited gent smiled broadly and approached in long strides. He didn't have a hair out of place.

"Harm's in the bathroom," Trick said haltingly.

"Did you wish to wait here or on the jet?"

"Here, thanks."

"Very good. My name is Jim Tackety, I'll be looking after you during your flight."

"Thanks."

"May I carry your backpack?"

"No, I'm good."

"Certainly."

When Harm joined shortly after, he found Trick standing awkwardly beside Jim, who looked pleased to see Harm as he made his introduction. "Jim Tackety at your service. I'll be attending you both during your flight, which has arrived at Gate One. May I assist you with your luggage, sir?"

[Existentially Odd]

Harm was certain there was a toilet on the jet. Probably a very nice one. But that knowledge couldn't quell the nervousness that seemed intent on ambushing his bladder every half an hour, when he was struck with the overpowering urge to pee. The complimentary Champagne hadn't helped his plight and, even though he'd known their time of departure was imminent, he hadn't been able to resist one last bathroom break.

When he came out, he found that his timing was predictably bad and Trick was waiting with someone that looked very official. His boyfriend didn't look too relaxed. Harm hurried over, his cheeks colouring because it seemed he was holding proceedings up. He listened to the gentleman identify himself and beamed at him.

"Hi, Jim! I'm Harm," he introduced himself, shaking the steward's hand. It took him a moment to process all the details of what the man had said but when he did, he laughed and automatically clutched the handle of his messenger bag, looped across his body as usual. "Nah, I'm good," he demurred, inadvertently mirroring Trick's statement.

"Very good. This way then, sirs," Jim smiled, turning and leading them through a doorway with large numeral ones identifying it.

Harm slid his hand into Trick's and gave him a sheepish grin, whispering, "Sorry," as they followed their host.

It was hard to believe it was finally happening after all of their waiting and preparing. All the research, the stress, the cautious planning (with Trick's family) and the outrageous arguments (with his) were about to fade firmly into their past and make way for their future. Overseas. Harm was giddy with excitement but also quietly terrified (hence the temperamental bladder, he was sure). It was such a leap of faith, to go so far away with someone he'd known such a short amount of time to somewhere so far from everything familiar. He'd gone to Canada once as a kid with his family, how the hell did that prepare him for this??

Pushing the self-doubt down into his body as far as it could go, he followed Jim blindly down a makeshift hallway and into an opulent living room. Harm's mouth fell open as he looked around the cream, mahogany and gold-themed plane interior. They were roughly in the middle of the jet. There were double seats facing each other around a shiny wooden table, six seats that looked like first class plane seats facing the front of the plane, a high-backed curved leather booth sans table and two three-seater couches facing each other from their respective sides of the wide plane. The couches looked soft enough to be beds incognito.

Jim gave them a rundown of the plane, stating that the cockpit, galley and steward's area was through the doorway up ahead of them and the bedroom and bathroom were off the narrow hallway at the back. After asking if they needed anything, Jim left them to select their seats while he went to do some sort of pre-flight activity or other. Looking around, Harm saw seat belts on every one of the plush white leather seats, though that wasn't what was at the front of his mind. He looked at Trick, his eyes twinkling and a smirk flitting around his mouth.

"He said there was a bedroom back there... right?" he asked slyly, thumbing towards the back of the plane. He wasn't suggesting that they use it (necessarily) but he definitely thought they should see it.

[Pocky]

"This is wild," Trick said once they were left alone. Grinning at Harm's suggestion, Trick turned next to the lounge and set down his backpacks before he dropped himself onto it. The soft leather pillowed him upon his landing and he made an impressed noise in the back of his throat. "Why are there so many seats? Do you think the vamps hire out this plane as a charter to business-people or something?"

He didn't stop for his answer, instead getting up to investigate the different leather chairs. Trick picked up half of a seatbelt and glanced upward at the ceiling where a flap could potentially open for oxygen masks to drop down.

"Do you think we'll get a pre-flight safety drill like the air-hosties do it?" Trick asked, standing in the centre facing Harm and then mechanically moving his arms about in a parody. "Could a vamp survive a crash?"

Trick moved towards Harm, his eyes shiny and wide. "And I bet that bedroom doesn't have windows. Let's go see."

The space was too small for them to walk side by side so Trick grabbed Harm's hand and gestured for him to lead them that way.

[Existentially Odd]

Harm laughed at Trick's impression of a pre-flight safety lecture, sliding the strap of his messenger bag over his head and leaving it perched on some chair or other. Truthfully, he wasn't sure why they weren't getting that lecture right now, because that meant they were about to go but he held his complaint in and grinned at Trick's enthusiasm.

"No way, they'd die," he said confidently to the question about whether or not a vampire could survive a plane crash, though he really had no idea. It depended on more factors than he wanted to think about with Trick looking at him like that. He laughed again as he was urged to get them into the bedroom.

The space at the back of where they were was cut off by a wall. Only a narrow hallway on the right remained and this was where Harm took Trick now. Their shoulders were brushing the sides of it uncomfortably, causing them to swivel slightly sideways as they proceeded along it. There were no windows to alleviate the gloom, though there were lights running along the edges at the base of both sides of the hallway's carpet. It felt like a fancy runway to somewhere glamourous, though Harm could see it led to a bathroom at the end. It was partially lit - as if by a night light -  the muted light washing back a little way down the hallway.

Before the bathroom, however, there was a door set into the wall on their left. Harm opened it, pleased it wan't locked. Instinct had him fumbling with a hand across the wall to his right to light the room and he was rewarded by finding a light switch. The room lit up in stark relief when he turned the overhead light on.

It was a bedroom, alright, taken up almost entirely by a huge king sized bed. Although the room was luxuriously outfitted, space was at a minimum in here. There was enough room to walk around the bed and Harm could see seats like the stewardesses sat in bolted to the wall at the foot of the bed. Emergency seats, if necessary. Trick's prediction was accurate because there were no windows, the room was entirely light tight.

"Oh my god," Harm breathed when he got the room illuminated. He shuffled sideways so that Trick could follow him in and stared around in silent awe. The urge to jump on the bed was strong but he fought it. "You were right; no windows. It doesn't feel too claustrophobic, though. That bed looks so comfortable... I reckon once the flight gets boring, I'll be in here," he predicted with a grin, leaning forward to brush the shiny royal blue quilt cover with his fingers.

[Pocky]

Trick looked from Harm to the bed and a slow smile crept upon his lips. Before he could act on his thoughts, Jim Tackety returned and ushered them to their seats for takeoff.

On the way they were shown where the parachutes were stored, how to harness them quickly, how the door worked so they could open it and jump in the event of an emergency--but only if the pilot declared they were high enough to open their chutes before hitting the ground.

After that terrifying explanation Trick and Harm were shown where the television screen was hiding--behind a secret panel that slid to one side--and that if they wished to have drinks or snacks, they could ask Jim and he would get them. From the television they were taken to their seats and Jim inspected both their belts to make sure they were secure before he gave the okay to the pilot and co-pilot.

"This is wild," Trick said again, this time through clenched teeth. He turned the grimace Harm's way and nodded, his eyes wide and perspiration beading on his forehead. "This is going to be so great," he said, hands gripping the arms of the seat.

[Existentially Odd]

Harm looked Trick over, his expression alarmed. He reached up to swipe the brunet's sweaty forehead, smearing the perspiration instead on the thigh of his jeans as he settled into his own seat and clicked his seatbelt in to place.

"It'll be okay," he reassured his boyfriend in a quiet voice, noting the way his jaw was clenched. He covered Trick's hand - which felt more like a claw than a hand at that moment, really - with his own, thumb swooping across the back of Trick's hot skin reflexively. "I didn't know you were afraid of flying," he declared, his tone bewildered.

It might've been a pertinent fact to have shared with Harm before, say... they got on a fucking aeroplane to fly to Europe together!!

[Pocky]

"I'm not afraid, there's nothing to worry about," Trick said, his tone much calmer than his body language. He puffed air in half a scoff, frowned and rolled his eyes at the same time. "Hey Jim, could I have something to drink before takeoff? A whiskey or anything?"

"I apologise, we're about to roll out to the runway so you'll have to wait until after we've taken off and levelled out."

"Oh yeah, of course, no sweat," Trick said hurriedly. He sat back in his chair and took in a slow breath.

[Existentially Odd]

Harm merely quirked an eyebrow at Trick's bravado, saying nothing when he proceeded to ask for alcohol. True to Jim's word, the engines of the jet revved and whirred louder as the aircraft taxied towards its assigned runway. If anything, Trick looked even more tense and Harm wondered if he was afraid of flying or merely of taking off. Harm himself hadn't been on a plane for a very long time and was finding the muted power of the craft around them exhilarating. He wished Trick shared his enthusiasm.

As the whine of the engines reached a crescendo outside, Harm exulted in the feeling of being pushed back into his seat. The power of the machine was awe-inspiring and he couldn't contain a laugh of triumph as they reached the zenith of their climb. The pressure released - as it did in his ears - and Harm's jaw worked as the plane settled into a purring hum. They levelled out and Jim appeared before them almost magically, a glinting crystal glass filled with warm brown liquid held in his extended hand.

"My apologies again for the delay, sir," he said with a gracious smile. Harm was suddenly struck by how he looked; kind but also a little bit handsome, like he lived for pleasing Trick. It was an odd thought and had him hastening to move his hand off Trick's so he'd be able to reach for the alcohol he'd requested. Harm turned to look at his boyfriend, wide-eyed and amazed. He didn't expect Trick to be drinking alcohol, he usually only ever drank water.

Then again, Harm didn't expect Trick to be afraid of flying and here they were. He examined his boyfriend silently, looking for signs that he was feeling relaxed now that they were up in the sky. Would they have eight hours of nerves and awkward conversation ahead of them or was he going to have to think of something to take Trick's mind off the fact that they were hurtling at incredible speeds through the bright sky?

[Pocky]

Trick closed his eyes during the sensation of being pushed back into his seat. Once the jet levelled out he released his grip on the chair arm and accepted the offered whiskey with a closed mouth smile. Holding it close to his chest he gave Harm a dose of side-eye.

"Don't say anything," he instructed without looking his boyfriend's way before he slammed the alcohol down like it was a shot even though it hadn't been presented to him in a shot glass. Grimacing and sucking air through his teeth, he held the empty glass to him until Jim appeared without being beckoned to take it away from him. "Could I have a water? No lemon or anything."

"Certainly, sir. Would you like a drink or a snack, sir?" Jim asked Harm before he disappeared into his area. While he was gone, Trick unbuckled his seatbelt and looked Harm's way with an embarrassed smile. "Want to watch a movie or something?"

[Existentially Odd]

Naturally, Harm was hungry. They'd been in such a rush to get ready and get to the airport, he hadn't eaten. Adrenaline and nerves had had a lot to do with the suppression of his appetite too, he supposed, and now that they were finally on their way and could settle... his stomach growled on cue.

"Oooh, yes please!" Harm enthused, his eyes lighting up as he peered worshipfully at Jim. Jim would feed him; he temporarily loved Jim and his gaze said so. "I'd love a Coke and something substantial to eat, like a meal, rather than a snack. Something heated in a microwave or, like, some noodles or something would do?" he hazarded.

To the credit of his absolute professionalism, Jim merely nodded and moved away. Harm's gaze followed after him longingly for a moment and then he looked back at Trick. He undid his own seatbelt and swivelled his body in Trick's direction. One of his arms rested along the armrest, the elbow of his other propped on top so that his hand cradled his chin. He looked at Trick with great interest despite his boyfriend's warning to say nothing.

"So," Harm began, his eyebrows high. "Whiskey, huh? Are you drunk now?" he teased, completely ignoring the offer to watch a movie (for the time being, anyway).

[Pocky]

Trick looked at Harm with a sly grin spreading across his lips. It was reminiscent of the grin he'd given Harm in the jet's bedroom before they'd been interrupted.

"I'm not so quick to get drunk except I can feel it burning down my throat," he said, clearing his throat to demonstrate the whiskey's potency. "It's been a long time since I've had anything stronger than a beer." He took a moment to consider it. "It's been a long time since I've even had a beer. Why? Do you want me drunk and rolling around on this plane?"

[Existentially Odd]

Harm giggled at the idea of Trick drunkenly rolling about in the plane's aisle, singing something jaunty at the top of his lungs and Jim having to step over him to smoothly deliver Harm's Coke and noodles. Trick was no doubt a very serious drunk, as he was a pretty serious man in general, but that didn't stop Harm's imagination from adding its own hilarious flourishes that had his eyes shining with mirth.

The shades on the windows alternated between completely down or halfway up (the larger windows were shaded completely), allowing a partial view of blue sky and sunlight twinkling across fat, round clouds beyond the warmly-lit cabin. A glance outside and then back at Trick had Harm smirking.

"Nooo," he drawled coyly, shifting his arm off the rest so that he could play with the fingers of Trick's closest hand, curling his own in between and twisting one of his chunky rings before drawing circles on Trick's palm. "I want you completely sober so that you can enjoy every second of this with me. And remember everything!" he announced, excitement thrumming through him and making everything he said sound like some sort of jubilant declaration of triumph. He could hear it, he just couldn't seem to stop himself.

"Your eyes look like the sky. God, you're beautiful," he sighed dreamily, tilting his head into his hand at a more extreme angle, bewitched by the sight of Trick with a backdrop of endless blue and sunshine, his pale blue eyes as clear as the eternity beyond the glass. Harm's reverie didn't last long enough for Trick to get a decent response in before his head was straightening, his eyes were widening and he was drawing in a huge gasp of air that warned Trick he believed he'd just come up with the best idea ever.

"We need photos!" he exclaimed, tapping urgently at Trick's forearm as he looked around them like a hunting dog searching for a dropped duck. "Proper photos! Of this! All of this! Everything! And us in it!" he urged, undoing his belt and scrambling out of his seat to stand up and look around the seating area of the plane as if it might've changed since they'd taken off. He was not the photographer but that didn't seem to faze him as he cast a critical eye over the aesthetics of the plane's interior.

Harm knew Trick had his good camera with him because he was hoping to get some nice sunset shots of clouds or aerial shots of cities but sunset was hours away. He didn't want to wait for the photos to start happening now that he'd seen how gorgeous Trick looked in this light. A selfie of his stunning eyes lit up against the clear sky would definitely sell in Gia's shop - not that making money was all Harm was interested in, he wanted to make memories, too. Capturing them in their flight together was also important. He was just being practical at the same time.

He urged Trick to get up and head towards his camera bag but if he wasn't keen to do so, Harm would get out of where they were sitting to pace (even if he had to climb over Trick to do so) simply because he couldn't sit still. Of course, Harm's interest in photos waned the instant Jim re-emerged from the galley bearing an unusually large tray. Harm's blue-green eyes became saucers as Jim placed it on the table that was surrounded by the booth seat. Like an obedient pup, Harm slid into the booth, gawking at the meal he'd requested but now understood he'd completely underestimated.

"I took the liberty of preparing you a light brunch, sir, seeing as it's that time of day. I hope you don't mind," Jim smiled at Harm's child-like-wonder-face as he began to unload the tray of its burden of eggs Benedict steaming away on a bed of bacon and Turkish toast, a plate of four bits of French toast, syrup, a pot of plunger coffee, a can of Coke and a glass filled with it, a small jug of orange juice, some empty glasses, a container holding a selection of condiments like jam, honey and peanut butter, a pat of butter and a plate of what looked like four pieces of plain toast. A plate filled with cutlery and napkins was placed down last.

"You prepared this?" Harm gawped.

Jim's smile broadened as he shrugged affably, straightening up and tucking the tray beneath his arm. "I trained as a chef, originally. Is everything to sir's satisfaction?" he queried.

"Y-yes, thank you," Harm stammered, realising he had the option of refusing the lovely display of food filling the table before him. Would people ever do that? It seemed like Jim was genuinely ready for criticism because the smile he gave when Harm thanked him was happy and a little bit relieved.

"Very good. I'll be back to clear once you're finished," Jim told him and disappeared back towards the front of the plane.

Harm took a moment to survey everything before his gaze found Trick's, his mouth still open in shock. He pulled an apologetic face at his boyfriend before he snagged some cutlery and drew the eggs Benedict towards himself. "I'm sorry to do this so suddenly but I just might have to break up with you," he said with mock regret, touching his finger to the creamy Hollandaise sauce on top of the meal and putting it onto his tongue with a moan of delight. When he opened his eyes, he pulled his finger out of his mouth and nodded seriously at Trick. "Yep. It's definite. I have to marry Jim so he can feed me like this every day. Sorry, man," he shook his head as he cut into his food and watched golden yolk ooze everywhere.

[Pocky]

When the compliment was bestowed to him Trick blew a puff of air through slightly parted lips and narrowed his eyes at his boyfriend. "Steady on. I think you're--" he began but was cut off when Harm excitedly blurted out his next thought.

As soon as the word photos was out of Harm's mouth Trick moved purposefully towards his bag. He opened up the zipper and reached for the equipment inside. With the camera cradled against his chest he hunted for the perfect lens and attached it. After a momentary pause he also pulled out a selfie stick and set it aside before zipping his bag up and securing its position. Looping the camera's long strap around his neck he lifted the camera and adjusted some settings before snapping a candid shot and changing another setting.

Without looking up Trick shifted out of Jim's way when he re-appeared laden with food. He followed and moved to one side as Jim served it all, watching through the screen of his camera and clicking shots of the spread as soon as Jim was out of shot. By the time Harm pulled the plate to himself and made his joke, Trick had already taken several photographs of the luxurious meal at different angles.

"I'll just have to go back to Buoy with a broken heart and denigrate myself. He'll take me back but the whole dynamic of our relationship will change when he becomes the alpha. I'll be picking out splinters from all kinds of places. You won't care because you'll have French toast." Trick eyed the quartet of toast on the plate and snagged a piece for himself. "Now I have French toast so I don't care either." He bit into it.

[Existentially Odd]

Harm's eyes - tinged more blue than green given the brightness of their surroundings - lit up with mirth when Trick played along. With a mouthful of food he had to resist spitting out, he lifted a hand in front of his face and pursed his lips while he chewed hastily, eyebrows raised and eyes creased with silent laughter. He loved Trick's lighthearted side; with all of their serious and somewhat tense organising before this trip, it hadn't been around all that often. Nor had his, to be fair. He'd missed it. He'd missed them like this.

Once he'd managed to swallow and was safe from choking, Harm lowered his hand and chuckled at Trick, feigning offence. "Buoy. Now there's a name I haven't heard in a while. You're not even going to try and fight for me? Just go running back to your ex and become his bitch? I see how it is!" Harm announced, pointing an imperious knife in Trick's direction before it returned to cutting up his next bite of food, his expression haughty.

[Pocky]

Trick was already moving away as Harm spoke, eyeing different locations to photograph. At the end of Harm's teasing he held up the remainder of the treat he'd stolen and called out "French toast!" with a grin.

Trick moved through the plane's interior while Harm continued his meal and snapped images inside the jet as well as out the window onto the wing. With a few words to Jim he was allowed to photograph the cockpit from a vantage point behind the pilot. After he was done with the images he thought were more commercial, he took a few candids and then swapped out his camera for his phone and the selfie stick.

"Are you done shoveling food into your face hole yet?" Trick asked.

[Existentially Odd]

Harm rolled his eyes, having watched Trick's progression through photographing the front half of the plane with great interest. He'd snuck behind him to peer into the cockpit, not wanting to miss out on that, but had otherwise chomped his way merrily through his food, content to watch Trick work as he did. He found his boyfriend's process fascinating - which he thought was a good thing, since he'd signed up to be exposed to it for many upcoming months.

Still, that didn't mean he had to put up with being teased so crassly. Squinting reproachfully at Trick, Harm waved a hand over the mostly-empty plates he'd stacked neatly on the table before himself in lieu of addressing the eating part of his question. "Remind me again why I used to think you were so charming when you use descriptions like 'face hole'?" he demanded drolly, folding his arms across his chest as he gave Trick an imperious expression. "And let me guess," he continued, not allowing Trick too much time to address the charming query, "now you want to photograph the back of the plane and you want me to sprawl across the bed like one of your French boys?!"

He gasped and pointed a finger for effect, as if Trick had said the controversial words himself, but also because he realised that, very soon, Trick really would be able to photograph as many French boys as he liked. The thought was as exciting as it was intimidating because Harm imagined they were all very sexy, with their sexy, sexy French accent and hot French bodies (not that he had one in particular in mind, since he was really still picturing Kate Winslet in Titanic in the first place, but he could work on it!). They would no doubt try to eat Trick up. Good grief what had they done coming to Europe, where everyone was sexy and had an amazing accent?!