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Harry squinted at the tiny screen in the palm of his hand, his thumb scrolling through the endless feed of updates from people on Twitter he barely knew. The café's Wi-Fi was as weak as the coffee, but it was better than being stuck without any distraction. The digital clock on the upper corner of his phone ticked closer to his flight's departure time, and his stomach lurched. He'd always had a deep-seated fear of flying, but today's trip was different.
Last night's movie marathon with his best friend and colleague, Liam, had ended with the cheesy horror film, "Final Destination", and now every creak of the café chair, every sigh of the espresso machine, sounded like an omen of impending doom. The film's grisly plot played on repeat in his mind, each gory scene more vivid than the last. Harry took a deep breath, trying to shake off the lingering dread, and took another sip of his lukewarm coffee. The bitter taste did little to dispel the feeling that he'd made a mistake by booking this flight.
His sister's wedding invitation sat in his handbag, a glossy square of card stock that seemed to weigh a ton. It was a celebration he couldn't miss, but the thought of flying across the country to get there had his heart racing faster than the caffeine could account for. Harry had always been the reliable one, the calm in the storm, but today, as he faced the reality of boarding that plane, he felt anything but steady.
Gripping his phone tightly, he glanced up to the bustling airport beyond the café's windows. The hustle and bustle of travellers didn't ease his anxiety. It only served as a stark reminder that soon he'd be strapped into a metal tube hurtling through the sky. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing thoughts. His sister's wedding was important, he had to get on that plane. No more putting it off. With a sigh, he shoved his phone into his pocket and stood up, his legs wobbly like jelly.
Harry's eyes darted to the departure board, searching for his flight number. It was still there, unchanged, the digits and letters staring back at him like a taunt. He couldn't ignore it any longer.
As Harry made his way to the boarding gate, the smell of stale air and the ringing sound of distant boarding calls grew stronger. His heart hammered in his chest, echoing in his ears. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been this nervous. The line to board the plane stretched out like a snake ready to swallow him whole. He took his place, his eyes darting around, searching for an escape. But there was none. Just a sea of faces, some bored, some anxious, none seemingly as terrified as his own.
Finally, the line began to inch forward. Harry felt like he was being led to his doom, step by step. He found his seat and immediately buckled up, his knuckles turning white as he clutched the armrests. He closed his eyes, hoping to just fall asleep or at least faint until they arrived at Heathrow. But a few moments later the plane’s engines roared to life, the vibrations rattling his teeth. He squeezed his fingertips against his closed eyes and tried to focus on his breathing, but it was no use. His mind was a tornado of fear and doubt.
The flight attendant's voice crackled over the loudspeaker, her soothing instructions doing little to comfort him. Harry thought of his sister's wedding invitation in his bag, a tactile reminder of why he was enduring this torment. He thought of her smiling face on FaceTime, the excitement in her voice when she'd called to tell him the news. He couldn't let her down by not showing up. That was the last thing he wanted.
The plane lurched forward, and Harry's stomach dropped. As the plane taxied down the runway, he whispered to himself, "You can do this." But the words held as much conviction as a soggy tissue.
He hadn't even looked at the person sitting next to him, too consumed by his own horror fantasies. The stranger, a well-dressed man in a tailored suit, glanced over at him. His eyes were kind, but Harry couldn't bring himself to return the gaze. Instead, he stared straight ahead, his teeth clenched. In the corner of his eye, Harry noticed that the man offered him a comforting smile.
"First time flying?" he asked, his voice a gentle rumble above the engine's growl.
Harry's eyes snapped to the man, his heart thudding. "No," he replied, his voice tight. "I just don't like it."
The man, who introduced himself as Louis, nodded in understanding. "It's okay. I've had my fair share of nervous flyers. Just try to relax. What was your name again?”
“Harry.” He pressed through gritted teeth.
The plane ascended, and Harry's grip on the armrests tightened until his fingers ached. The pressure in his ears was unbearable, and he swallowed hard to relieve it. Louis seemed unfazed, his eyes glued to the spreadsheet on his laptop, fingers flying over the keyboard. Harry couldn't imagine being that calm in his own skin right now.
The flight attendant announced they had reached cruising altitude, and Harry let out a shaky sigh of relief. Maybe the worst was over.
But the universe had other plans. Without warning a few moments later, the plane jolted violently. Harry's closed eyes shot open, and he grabbed the nearest object with a feral desperation - which happened to be Louis' hand. The turbulence was intense, sending a rush of panic through his body. The plane dropped, and the pressure increased until it felt like an invisible hand was squeezing the life out of him. Harry's grip on Louis' hand tightened, his nails digging in.
Louis winced quietly but said nothing, his gaze focused on his work. The turbulence grew stronger, the plane shaking like a leaf in a storm. Harry's fear spiked, and his grip tightened even more. He didn't realise how hard he was holding on to dear life until he heard a soft gasp from beside him. He opened his eyes and saw that his nails had broken the skin, leaving two crimson trails on Louis' knuckles. Horrified, Harry released his hold, his eyes wide with an apology.
"I'm so sorry," Harry stammered, his voice trembling. "I didn't mean to..."
Louis' eyes searched Harry's face, and then he looked at his hand. The blood had already started to seep out, forming little beads on his skin. He offered a wince that was more from the pain than from annoyance. "It's alright," he said, his voice a touch strained. "It's a reflex, I get it."
The plane jolted again, and Harry's hand hovered over the bleeding marks, torn between his urge to apologise further and his fear of the situation. "Let me," he said, reaching into his handbag and pulling out a small pack of tissues. He gently dabbed at the blood, trying not to cause any more pain.
"Don't worry about it, love" Louis said, his voice calm despite the chaos around them. He took the tissues from Harry and applied pressure to his own hand. "It's not a big deal."
The turbulence grew worse, and the plane dipped sharply to the side. Harry's eyes widened with terror, and he couldn't help but grab Louis' bleeding hand again, this time with even more force. The sound of the engines changed, and the plane jerked as the pilot fought to stabilise their ascent. The passengers around them began to murmur in fear, but Louis remained eerily calm.
With a trembling hand, Harry reached into his bag and pulled out a small, pink Hello Kitty band-aid. It was a leftover from his niece's last visit, a simple act of childhood comfort that had somehow found its way into his travel essentials. "Let me put this on," he insisted, his voice shaking.
Louis looked at the band-aid, a hint of amusement playing on his lips despite the pain. "Seriously?"
"It's all I have," Harry said, his voice shaking as the plane continued to rock. "I don't want you to get an infection or something. I don’t want to be the reason for you losing your hand."
Louis sighed, his eyes never leaving the band-aid. "Okay," he finally said, extending his hand. "But only if you put some magic blow on too!”
Harry managed a nervous chuckle, trying to pull his mind out of the gutter over the pun and applied the band-aid, gently pressing it against the wounds. The turbulence showed no signs of letting up, and Harry's stomach somersaulted with each jolt. His eyes darted to the seatbelt sign over the row in front, which remained stubbornly illuminated.
"Thank you, love, but where is the magic," Louis murmured, his gaze never leaving Harry's face.
Their eyes locked for a brief moment, and Harry felt a strange sense of comfort in the stranger's unflappable calm. He took a deep breath and leaned over, pursing his lips to blow gently onto the Hello Kitty plaster. For a second, the world stopped spinning, and it was just the two of them in a bubble of quiet understanding.
As the band-aid with magic blow stuck to the man's skin, Harry felt a strange sense of relief. It was a small gesture, but it felt like he'd done something right in the face of his fear. The turbulence didn't stop, but for a brief moment, he wasn't alone in his panic. Louis offered a small nod of thanks, a gesture that seemed to carry more weight than words could in that chaotic moment.
The plane continued to shake, and the passengers around them grew more and more restless. A baby wailed in the row ahead, and Harry felt his heart racing in time with the cries. His mind over actively filled with images of the news reports he'd seen, the tragic tales of planes that had never made it to their destination. He took another deep breath, trying to steady himself. The oxygen masks dropped from the ceiling, and the flight attendant's voice crackled over the intercom, instructing everyone to put them on. Harry's hand hovered over his mask, his eyes wide with terror.
"You too," Louis said, placing his own mask over his nose and mouth. His voice was muffled, but his gaze was firm.
Swallowing hard, Harry followed suit, the plastic tightening around his face. The mask's coldness sent a shiver down his spine, but the flow of oxygen helped to ease the claustrophobia that was closing in on him. The turbulence grew wilder, and the plane's wings dipped alarmingly. Harry squeezed his eyes shut, willing the chaos to stop.
"Just keep breathing," Louis said, his voice still steady. "You're doing great, love."
Through the plastic barrier, he heard the steady rhythm of Louis' breathing, right the opposite of his own ragged gasps. Harry focused on the sound, letting it anchor him amidst the tumult. He took a deep breath, inhaling the metallic scent of the aircraft and the faint smell of the stranger's cologne. It was oddly calming.
Slowly, the turbulence began to subside. The engines' roar diminished, and the plane levelled out. Harry felt the tension in his body loosened like a tightly coiled spring. He removed his oxygen mask and looked over at Louis, who was already in the process of doing the same. The man's eyes were on him, a look of concern etched on his features.
"You okay?" Louis asked, his voice a little raspy from the dry air.
"Yeah," Harry lied, his voice shaking. "Thanks."
Their conversation was cut short as the pilot's voice boomed through the cabin, explaining the sudden drop in altitude and apologising for any distress caused and informing them that the worst of the turbulence had passed and that they could remove their oxygen masks. Harry took a tentative breath, feeling his heartbeat slow to a more manageable rhythm. He turned to Louis, who was now leaning back in his seat, his laptop forgotten.
Louis' eyes were a glistening blue, fringed with thick lashes that any woman would envy. His hair was cut short, in a kind of rebellious peaky cut but still business enough, giving him a charm that Harry hadn't noticed before. The way his strong jaw clenched and released as he spoke, the confidence in his posture, even in the face of danger - Harry couldn't help but think that Louis was incredibly attractive.
"It's going to be okay," Louis assured him, patting Harry's knee gently. His hand lingered there for a moment longer than what would be appropriate, and Harry felt a strange warmth spread through him. It was the first time he'd felt anything but fear since boarding the plane. Harry tore his gaze from the bandaged hand on his knee and took in the rest of Louis. The man's suit was impeccable, fitting him like a glove, showcasing broad shoulders and a trim waist. His tie was slightly askew, probably from the turbulence, but it only added to his appeal. Harry felt a warmth spread through him that surely had nothing to do with fear.
"Thanks," Harry managed to murmur, his voice still shaky. "I just can't shake this feeling."
"I know," Louis said, his voice warm and understanding. "But you're not alone. And we're going to get through this."
In the dim light of the cabin, the blue of Louis' eyes seemed to glow, and Harry found himself drawn back to the man's strong, firm jawline. The way Louis' dark hair with silver strands fell in a perfect wave across his forehead was mesmerising, and the stubble on his cheeks added a hint of ruggedness to his otherwise polished look. Harry's heart was still racing, but it was no longer just from the situation he survived.
The plane hit another small patch of turbulence, but this time it was less severe. Harry took a deep breath and held it, waiting for the worst to pass. He felt Louis' hand squeeze his knee again, grounding him, giving him the strength to face his fear.
Harry's thoughts swirled like the clouds outside the window - part still fear, part fascination. He'd never felt this way about a stranger before, especially not in a situation like this. But there was something about the way Louis held his knee, something reassuring and commanding, that made Harry's pulse quicken.
The fabric of Louis' suit was a deep navy, almost black, that highlighted the sharp creases and tailored fit. His hand, now wrapped in the pink Hello Kitty band-aid, rested casually on Harry’s knee. Harry's eyes lingered on the sheer contrast between the childish bandage and the masculine hand it adorned. The sight was both absurd and oddly charming, and Harry couldn't help but smile.
"You know," Harry said, his voice low, "you're the calmest person I've ever seen in a situation like this."
Louis chuckled, the sound a welcome reprieve from the tension. "I've flown enough to know that turbulence is just the plane's way of saying 'hello' to the atmosphere." He leaned closer, his eyes holding a gentle humour. "But I get it. It's not everyone's cup of tea. It's all in a day's work for me," he replied, gesturing to the forgotten laptop. "I'm used to dealing with turbulence of all kinds."
Their eyes met again, and Harry felt a jolt of something electric pass between them. He realised he was still staring and quickly averted his gaze, his cheeks flushing.
"So, what do you do?" Harry asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
"I'm a consultant," Louis replied, his eyes not leaving Harry's. "Lots of flying, lots of spreadsheets."
"Sounds... interesting," Harry said, his voice betraying his lack of enthusiasm for the topic.
"Only if you find numbers and corporate strategy thrilling," Louis replied with a smirk.
Their conversation grew more relaxed as the plane steadied, and Harry found himself drawn to Louis' easy charm. He couldn't help but flirt a little, asking about the most exotic places he'd visited for work. Louis regaled him with tales of Tokyo skyscrapers and the bustling streets of Mumbai, his eyes lighting up with every word. Harry listened intently, his heart fluttering at the thought of such adventures.
"And what do you do?" Louis inquired, his gaze curious.
"I'm a teacher," Harry replied, his voice a little softer now. "So, you can say I deal with a different kind of turbulence on a daily basis."
Louis' eyes lit up with amusement. "Ah, so you're the one shaping the minds of tomorrow," he said, his British accent adding a touch of endearment to his words. "That's quite noble."
"It has its moments," Harry said with a shrug, trying to play it cool despite the warmth spreading through his chest. "But it's nothing compared to jet-setting around the world and saving businesses."
Louis' smile grew, and he leaned closer, his shoulder brushing against Harry's. "Well, I wouldn't say 'saving' per se, but I do enjoy the challenge. It keeps life interesting."
"I bet it does," Harry said, his eyes lingering on the man's curved lips. "But I think dealing with a classroom of unruly kids is pretty challenging too."
Louis leaned in even closer, his eyes dancing with amusement between Harry’s lips and eyes. "I'd say it's a tie, then," he giggled, his breath warm against Harry's cheek. "Both require patience and quick thinking."
The plane hit another pocket of turbulence, and Harry's heart leapt into his throat. Instinctively, his hand shot out to grab the armrest, but it collided with Louis' hand instead. The contact was brief, but it sent a shiver down Harry's spine. He quickly withdrew his hand, his cheeks burning.
"Sorry," Harry mumbled, his voice barely audible over the engines' drone.
"It's quite all right," Louis said, his gaze lingering on Harry's hand before meeting his eyes again. "It's not every day you get to save a damsel in distress with a Hello Kitty band-aid in their Gucci bag."
Their laughter filled the small space between them, a welcome respite from the tension that still hummed in the cabin. The conversation grew more playful as they swapped stories of their careers, each trying to outdo the other with tales of chaos and triumph. Harry found himself smiling more than he had in weeks, his fear of flying momentarily forgotten in the presence of this charming stranger. He felt his nerves begin to unravel under the warmth of Louis' smile. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the racing thoughts in his head. The fear of flying was still in the back of his mind, but it was overshadowed by the thrill of the unexpected connection with this overly handsome stranger.
"So, do you have any good last teacher story?" Louis asked, his voice a gentle rumble in the cabin's white noise.
"Well," Harry began, leaning slightly towards him, "there was this one time when a kid brought a frog to class and it escaped. Chaos ensued."
Louis' laugh was deep and rich, the kind that made Harry's stomach flip. "How did you handle it?"
"With a lot of patience and a tiny little bit of panic," Harry said, his eyes sparkling with mirth. "And a quick lesson on amphibians."
Louis' smile grew, his eyes wrinkling and Harry felt a strange thrill as the man leaned in closer. "Sounds like you've got a knack for turning chaos into a learning opportunity."
Their conversation flowed easily, the shared laughter a balm to Harry's frazzled nerves. He found himself leaning into the warmth of Louis' presence, their shoulders occasionally brushing as they talked. The plane's shuddering had become a faint background noise, and Harry's focus was solely on the man beside him. He couldn't help but flirt a little more, sharing tales of his most memorable life moments, each one more outrageous than the last.
"So, what's the craziest thing you've ever done?" Harry asked, his curiosity piqued by the adventurous life Louis had hinted at.
"Craziest?" Louis mused, stroking his chin. "Well, there was this one time in Bali. I decided to go skydiving, and I'm not usually one for extreme sports, but the view was supposed to be spectacular."
"You've skydived?" Harry's eyes widened. "That's insane."
"I know, right?" Louis said with a wink. "But the view was worth it. Nothing quite like seeing the world from a bird's eye view."
The plane hit another small bump, and Harry's grip tightened on the armrest. But this time, instead of fear, he felt a thrill of excitement. "I could never do that," he said, his voice filled with a mix of admiration and envy.
"So, you're not even a bit of a rebel, then?" Louis teased, his blue eyes sparkling.
"Not when it comes to jumping out of planes," Harry replied, a hint of challenge in his voice.
Louis' smile grew playful. "Oh, so you have a rebellious streak after all," he said, his eyes searching Harry's. "What is it that makes your heart race, then?"
"Well," Harry swallowed, his heart pounding for a different reason now. "I've never really done anything... crazy."
Louis leaned in closer, his breath tickling Harry's ear. "Everyone has a wild side, Harry. You just haven't found yours yet."
The words sent a shiver down Harry's spine, and he couldn't help but feel the truth in them. His life had been so structured, so predictable - wake up, teach, come home, repeat. The idea of a spontaneous adventure with this dashing stranger was both terrifying and exhilarating.
"Maybe I just need the right person to show me how to let loose," Harry murmured, unable to resist the allure of the conversation. "Or I’m only when it comes to frogs in the classroom," Harry retorted with a playful smirk.
"I might know a thing or two about how to loosen up," Louis said, his voice a low rumble that sent another shiver through Harry. He couldn't believe he was flirting with a stranger on a plane, especially in such a dire situation. But there was something about the way Louis spoke, something about the calmness in his eyes, that made Harry feel like he could conquer the world.
The plane's descent was announced over the intercom, the pilot's voice calm and steady despite the turbulence they'd weathered. Harry felt his stomach drop again, but this time it was from a mix of nerves and excitement. The sight of the ground growing closer filled him with relief and a hint of disappointment that their time together was almost over.
"Looks like we're almost there," Louis said, his gaze drifting to the window. The city sprawled below them, a tapestry of lights and concrete that seemed so far removed from the chaos of the air. Harry nodded, unable to find the words to express his conflicted emotions.
As the plane touched down, the tension in the cabin dissipated. The seatbelt sign dinged, and people began to stir, eager to escape the confines of their seats. Harry felt a strange reluctance to part ways with Louis, the only person who had made this hellish flight bearable.
They gathered their belongings, and as they made their way to the exit, the air grew thick with anticipation and the scent of recycled air. The airport was a whirlwind of activity, a huge difference from the forced intimacy of the plane's cabin. Harry's heart was racing for an entirely different reason now.
"Look, I know this is a bit..." Harry paused, his cheeks reddening. "Forward, but would you like to grab a drink? To, you know, celebrate surviving the flight?"
Louis looked at him, his expression unreadable for a moment before a sly smile spread across his face. "I've got a better idea," he said, his eyes dancing with mischief. "Follow me."
They weaved through the crowded airport, the clack of heels and the rumble of rolling suitcases creating a symphony. Harry's heart was racing, unsure if it was from the adrenaline of the flight or the thrill of what was to come. They arrived at a small, unassuming bathroom tucked away in a corner of the luggage collection area, the universal symbol for male and female side by side.
With a mischievous glint in his eye, Louis pushed open the men's room door and gestured for Harry to follow. The bathroom was empty, the gleaming tiles echoing their footsteps. Harry's nerves spiked, his breaths coming in shallow gasps as Louis led him to the last stall. The door swung open, revealing a bigger than expected space that still seemed to close in around them.
"Here?" Harry whispered, his voice hoarse.
"Why not?" Louis said, his smile playful. "It's not every day you survive a flight like that."
The tension between them was palpable as they stepped closer into the stall. Harry's eyes scanned the small space, his mind racing with a mix of excitement and trepidation. The air was cool and slightly antiseptic, a radical shift to the heat building between them.
"Are you sure?" Harry asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Louis's gaze held his, filled with an intensity that made Harry's knees wobble. "I don’t think I can resit your lips any longer," he murmured, reaching for Harry's hand. His touch was firm and reassuring, guiding Harry out of the doorway into the stall. The door clicked shut behind them, and the world outside the bathroom faded away.
In the confined space, their breaths mingled, the sound of their hearts beating in sync. Harry's eyes were wide, a mix of fear and desire. The thought of what they were about to do was thrilling and a little bit scandalous.
With a gentle tug, Louis pulled Harry closer, his hand sliding up to cup Harry's cheek. The warmth of his palm spread over Harry’s whole face. "I promise," Louis said, his voice a low murmur, "it'll be quick, but it'll be worth it."
Their eyes locked, and for a moment, Harry felt as if the world had stopped spinning. “I’m going to kiss you now, love…”
The words hung in the air, thick with anticipation. Louis’ thumb stroked softly over Harry’s bottom lip, the blue eyes flowing the move, he leaned in, his breath hot against Harry’s skin. Harry’s heart was a caged animal in his chest, thumping wildly. He closed his eyes, feeling the heat from the stranger’s body pressing against his own.
Their lips met in a kiss that was hungry and desperate. It was as if all the tension of the flight had come together into this moment - the fear, the adrenaline, the unexpected attraction. Harry’s arms snaked around Louis’ neck, pulling him closer, his fear of the confined space forgotten. The world outside the stall ceased to exist.
The kiss was a battleground of need and want, their mouths moving in a fierce dance that spoke of passion held at bay for too long. Harry could feel the beat of Louis’ heart against his chest, a rhythm that matched his own. The sound of the bathroom door opening and closing was muffled by the pounding in his ears.
Their bodies pressed together, Harry’s back against the cold metal of the stall, Louis’ hands roaming over his shoulders, down his chest. The smell of the antiseptic air was replaced by the scent of their mingled breaths, a heady cocktail of desire and fear. Harry’s hands found their way to rip off the tie around Louis’ neck and to the buttons of Louis’ shirt, fumbling in his haste to feel the warmth of his skin.
With a low growl, Louis pushed Harry’s shirt up, his hands skimming over the soft skin of his stomach, his thumbs tracing the line of Harry’s waistband. Harry’s breath hitched; his heart racing faster than the plane had ever gone. The air was thick with anticipation, the sound of their breathing echoing off the tiles.
Their kiss grew deeper, more urgent as if the world outside could shatter their moment at any second. Louis’ hand slid into Harry’s curly hair, his grip tight as he deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring every inch of Harry’s mouth. Harry’s hands found their way to the hem of Louis’ shirt, pushing it further open to expose the firm, tattooed muscular chest beneath.
The sound of the bathroom door opening jolted them apart, their eyes wide with panic. They stifled their gasps, listening as the footsteps grew closer, then faded away. The door to the stall right next to them opened and closed, and the sound of a toilet flushing filled the silence. Their eyes met again, the intensity of their desire unbroken.
With a nod, Louis reached for the lock, ensuring their privacy was secure. Harry's heart raced as the sound of the lock clicking into place echoed in the small space. They stepped closer, the heat of their bodies melding together as they kissed again, even more urgently than before. Their hands explored each other with an eagerness that seemed to defy the cold, sterile environment around them.
Their kisses grew more heated, hands moving with a desperation that was both thrilling and a little bit terrifying. Harry could feel the bulge in Louis' pants pressing against his own, and his desire grew stronger. He reached down, his hand trembling as he unbuckled the man's belt.
Their breaths were harsh and ragged, the only sound in the quiet stall. Harry's palm brushed against the warmth of Louis's skin, and he felt the man's muscles tense in response. The sound of a toilet flushing again in one of the next stalls was a stark reminder of their location, but it only served to heighten the illicit thrill of their encounter.
With trembling hands, Harry unbuttoned the last button on the bottom of Louis' shirt, revealing more of the ink that snaked across his skin. The sight of it was like a secret revealed, adding to the allure of this mysterious stranger. He traced the tattoo right under Louis’ collarbones with his fingertips, feeling the plane of muscles beneath the smooth skin.
Louis' hands were equally busy, his palms sliding up Harry's back, untucking his jumper completely as he went. Harry's breath hitched as the fabric was pulled over his head, leaving him in just his t-shirt.
They broke the kiss only long enough for Harry to pull his t-shirt over his head, exposing his muscular, tattooed and slightly trembling torso. The sight of Harry's bare skin seemed to drive Louis wild, his hands moving with a new urgency. Harry felt his own body respond, his skin prickling with need.
Their mouths found each other again, their kisses growing more frantic as their bodies pressed closer. The metal stall was cold against Harry's back, but the heat from Louis' body was a welcome warmth. Harry's hands moved to the button of Louis' pants, his fingers fumbling in his haste.
The sound of the zipper was deafening in the quiet space, and Harry's heart raced as he slid his hand inside, feeling the firmness of the man's erection. He stroked it gently, and Louis groaned, his hips bucking against Harry's hand. The sound was a symphony of desire, a stark contrast to the mundane sounds of the airport beyond the bathroom door.
With a swift motion, Louis turned Harry around, pushing him against the stall's cold metal divider. His hands moved around Harry's waist, his grip firm as he unbuckled the man's belt and unzipped his pants. The fabric slid down and with a little help the briefs as well, exposing Harry's ass, and Louis couldn't resist the urge to squeeze, eliciting a gasp from the other man.
"You're so beautiful," Louis murmured against Harry's ear, his breath hot and needy. Harry's cheeks burned with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. He felt exposed and vulnerable, but the desire coursing through him was undeniable.
"I want you," Harry whispered, his voice barely above a breath. Louis' hands continued to explore him, his palms sliding down to cup Harry's ass, pulling him closer. Harry could feel the hardness of Louis' clothed erection pressing against his lower back, and his own cock throbbed in response.
The cold metal of the stall against his palms fought against the fire that burned between them. Harry arched his back, pushing his ass into Louis' grip, silently begging for more.
"You're sure?" Louis asked, his voice thick with lust. Harry nodded, unable to form coherent words. The idea of being caught was exhilarating and terrifying, but the need to feel the other man inside him was stronger.
With one hand, Louis held Harry against the stall, the other reaching into his own pants to free his cock. Harry felt it, hot and heavy, pressing against his lower back. He moaned, his legs shaking slightly as Louis' hand wrapped around Harry’s erection, stroking in time with the beat of their racing hearts.
The sound of the bathroom door opening made them both jump agape and freeze, but it was just the hand dryer kicking to life as the person from one of the stalls washed their hands. Harry's breath caught in his throat, and Louis leaned in, whispering, "Just a little longer, Babe." His voice was a dark promise, a seductive purr that sent shivers down Harry's spine.
Louis' hand slid down the front of Harry's tummy, and he gripped Harry's hard cock firmly. Harry's hips jerked forward, and he bit his lip to keep from crying out. The sensation was intense, and he could feel his knees threatening to buckle. He braced himself against the metal divider, his eyes squeezed shut.
The sound of rustling foil pierced the silence, and Harry's eyes flew open. He watched above his shoulder as Louis rolled the condom over his erection with practised ease. The sight was so erotic, so unexpected, that Harry's cock throbbed in anticipation. He felt like he was in a dream, the kind that left him aching and breathless when he woke up.
Louis noticed Harry’s gaze, his hand was steady as he secured the condom, his eyes never leaving Harry's. The blue of his irises was almost black with desire, and Harry felt a shiver of excitement run down his spine.
With the ease of a man who knew what he wanted, Louis reached into his backpack and pulled out a small bottle of lube. The sound of the cap popping open was like a gunshot in the quiet stall. Harry's eyes widened, his breath hitching as he watched the businessman squeeze a generous amount onto his fingers. The liquid glistened in the harsh bathroom light, and Harry couldn't help but swallow hard at the sight.
"Spread your legs, Babe" Louis instructed, his voice low and firm. Harry obeyed, his legs trembling as he felt the coolness of the lube being spread over his own skin. The feeling was alien and exhilarating, a heady mix of fear and desire that had him panting. Louis' hand was warm and steady as it slipped between Harry's cheeks, his fingers coating Harry's entrance with the slick substance. Harry's breath hitched, his eyes rolling back in his head as the businessman's skilled digits circled and teased him, preparing him for what was to come.
Harry felt a strange mix of vulnerability and power, knowing that they were doing something so intimate in such a public place. The fear of being caught was a thrill that made his blood race, his cock pulsing with every shallow breath he took.
With gentle pressure, Louis lubed fingers pushed into Harry's tight hole, the sensation sending a bolt of pleasure through his body. Harry gasped, his eyes squeezing shut, his knuckles white from pressing against the metal divider. The stranger’s touch was surprisingly tender, his movements slow and deliberate as he worked Harry open.
"You okay?" Louis whispered, his breath hot against Harry's neck. Harry nodded, unable to form words as the stretch grew more intense.
"Good," Louis murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through Harry's body. With a final push, two fingers slid inside, and Harry's legs gave out a little. Louis' hand on his hip held him steady, the gentle pressure grounding him in the moment.
The feeling of being filled was overwhelming, and Harry couldn't help but push back, eager for more. Louis chuckled, his breath warm against Harry's ear. "Easy, love," he whispered, his thumb tracing lazy circles on Harry's hipbone. "We've got all the time we need."
Withdrawing his fingers, Louis applied more lube, the sound of the bottle being squeezed echoing in the tense silence. Harry felt the head of the man's cock nudge against his entrance, the blunt pressure making him gasp. He braced himself, his heart hammering in his chest.
The initial push was a shock of sensation, the stretch both painful and exquisite. Harry's eyes watered, but he didn't protest, the anticipation too great. Louis was patient, giving Harry's body time to adjust before pushing in further. Inch by inch, Harry felt himself being filled, the discomfort giving way to a building pleasure that was unlike anything he'd ever experienced.
The scent of the lube was faint, a reminder of the reality of their situation, but it was quickly overpowered by the musky scent of arousal that filled the small space. Harry's breathing grew ragged as he felt Louis' cock slide deeper, the thickness of it stretching him to the brink of pain. The businessman's hand remained firm on Harry's hip, the grip almost painful in its intensity.
"You're so tight, fuck" Louis murmured, his voice strained with restraint. Harry could feel the man's control slipping, the tremble in his fingers as he worked to hold back. Harry's body tensed around Louis’ hard cock, a silent plea for more. He nodded, his voice lost in the echo of their harsh breaths.
The pressure grew, and with a gasp, Harry felt the final barrier give way. Louis was fully inside him, their bodies connected in a way that was comfortable intimacy. Harry's eyes rolled back, his moan vibrating off the tiles. The sensation was like nothing he'd ever felt before, a mix of pain and pleasure that was overwhelming and exhilarating.
For a moment, they stayed still, their breaths mingling in the small stall. Harry felt the tremble in Louis' body, the man's restraint a palpable force. Then, with a gentle thrust, Louis began to move. The sound of their skin slapping together was muffled by the hum of the air conditioning.
Each stroke sent a jolt of pleasure through Harry, the feeling of being filled by this stranger's cock more intense than he could have ever imagined. The pain had faded into the background, leaving only the sweet, insistent ache of need.
Louis' hand slid down Harry's happy trail, his fingers finding Harry's erection, now slick with precum. He began to stroke in time with his thrusts, the dual sensations threatening to send Harry over the edge. Harry's hips rolled back to meet each thrust, his body moving of its own accord, desperate for the release that was building inside him.
The air in the stall was thick with their combined scents - sweat, arousal, and the faint tang of antiseptic. Harry's eyes were squeezed shut, his teeth digging into his bottom lip to stifle his moans.
Louis' hand was a warm, steady presence around Harry's throbbing cock, his strokes matching the rhythm of his hips as he pushed deeper into Harry's body. The lube made each movement slick and smooth. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure crashing through him, the sensation so intense it was almost unbearable.
“Let me hear you, baby!” Louis whisper-gasped in his ear, leaving his tongue playing with Harry’s earlobe.
The demand was gruff, urgent, and Harry couldn’t hold back anymore. He let out a keening moan, his body moving in sync with Louis’ relentless rhythm. The stall creaked under the force of their passion, the metal digging into Harry’s palms as he held on for dear life.
“Fuck me, you feel so good,” Harry gasped, the words torn from his throat. His legs were shaking, his entire body a live wire of sensation. He’d never been so exposed, so vulnerable, and yet, he’d never felt more alive.
Louis’ strokes grew faster, his breaths ragged against Harry’s neck. Louis bit down gently on Harry's neck, the pressure of his teeth sending a shiver of pleasure through Harry's body. Harry's eyes rolled back in his head, and he grabbed back onto Louis' hair for support as the waves of pleasure crashed over him. The sensation was unlike anything else, a harsh change to the tender kisses that had been placed there moments before. It was as if Louis knew exactly how to balance the delicate line between pleasure and pain, pushing Harry to the edge of ecstasy. Harry could feel the man’s body tense, the muscles in his arms standing out in stark relief. The hand on Harry’s cock tightened, the rhythm becoming more erratic.
“I’m going to come, Babe, you’re so fucking perfect,” Louis panted, his voice a mix of desperation and need. Harry nodded, his own orgasm building like a storm. The friction was exquisite, the feeling of being so thoroughly claimed by this stranger sending him spiralling closer to the edge.
With a final, deep thrust, Harry felt the heat of Louis' release, the man's cock pulsing inside him. It was all the encouragement he needed, and with a strangled cry, Harry came, his body shaking with the force of it. Warmth spilt over Louis' hand, the sensation of their combined releases only adding to the intensity.
They stayed like that for a moment, their bodies entwined, the only sound of their harsh breaths and the distant murmur of the airport outside. Harry felt boneless, his legs threatening to give out from the overwhelming rush of pleasure.
Slowly, Louis pulled out, his grip on Harry's hips tight as he steadied the man. Harry leaned against the stall, his knees trembling slightly, his pants around his ankles. The coldness of the metal against his forehead a welcome relief.
Louis reached up with his left hand, cupping Harry's chin and turning his face towards him. The grin on his face was one of pure satisfaction, and Harry felt his cheeks heat up as he looked into those piercing blue eyes. Without a word, Harry reached out and pulled Louis’ right hand up. He leaned forward and licked the trail of cum from Louis' hand, his eyes never leaving the other man's gaze. It was a strange, intimate moment, one that Harry never would have anticipated sharing with someone he'd only just met. But in that small, cramped space, it felt surprisingly right.
"Fuck, Harry," Louis whispered, his voice low and hoarse with lust. "That's so hot."
The compliment sent a thrill through Harry's body, his cheeks flushing even more deeply. He felt a strange sense of pride, knowing that he had been able to give this man, who was so obviously in control of his own fears, such intense pleasure.
Louis stepped closer, his thumb tracing Harry's bottom lip, and Harry opened his mouth slightly, allowing the digit to slip inside. He could taste the saltiness of his own release mixed with the faint scent of the cherry lube.
"You have no idea how much that turns me on," Louis murmured, his eyes darkening with lust. "Seeing you like this, so wild and uninhibited, it's incredible, Babe."
Their gazes remained locked as Harry sucked on his thumb, the taste of himself a heady reminder of the passion they'd just shared. Louis' smile grew wider, and he leaned in to kiss Harry again, his hand moving to Harry's neck to pull him closer. This kiss was slower, more tender than the ones before as if they were both savouring the aftermath of their encounter. Harry's eyes fluttered shut, his breath mingling with Louis’ as their lips moved together. He could feel the warmth of Louis' breath on his skin, the gentle scrape of stubble against his chin. It was a moment that seemed to stretch on forever, a perfect interlude in the chaos of their day.
"I can't believe we just did that," Harry said, his voice barely a whisper.
Louis chuckled, a low, warm sound that resonated through Harry's chest. "Believe it, because it was fucking amazing." He stepped back, giving Harry space to pull up his pants and straighten his clothes. "You're something else, Harry."
They shared a moment of silence, the only sound the rustle of their clothes as they readjusted themselves. Harry felt a peculiar mix of satisfaction and embarrassment, not sure how to take Louis’ last statement, his heart still racing.
"I should... I should go," Harry said, his voice shaky. He stepped back, trying to compose himself, and pulled up his pants and put on his shirt. He stepped out of the stall. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes avoiding the mirror as he washed his hands.
But before he could leave, Louis' strong arms encircled him from behind, pulling him close. Harry felt the warmth of the man's body, the beat of his heart against his back. Louis turned him around in a swift move and then, without warning, Louis' mouth was on his, claiming him in a kiss that was as soft as it was unexpected.
The kiss was a declaration, a silent promise that this was not just a fleeting encounter. Harry's eyes searched Louis', questioning, but the businessman only gave him a knowing smile. "You and me, we're not done yet," he murmured, his voice thick with lust and something else - something Harry couldn't quite put his finger on.
They stumbled out of the bathroom, their eyes darting around the airport, searching for any signs of disapproval or recognition. But the world around them remained blissfully oblivious to their tryst.
Louis took Harry's hand firmly in his own, the warmth of his palm a strange contrast to the cool, dry air of the terminal. The gesture was reassuring, grounding Harry as they moved through the bustling crowd. The connection was palpable, a silent acknowledgement of what had just transpired between them.
The businessman's grip was steady, his thumb brushing over Harry's knuckles in a gentle caress that sent shivers down his spine. Harry couldn't help but look down at their interlocked hands, the sight a stark reminder of their shared intimacy. The Hello Kitty band-aid on Louis’ hand a symbol of their unlikely bond.