sweet
Regulus tries his best not to think of the man from last night when he steps into the plane. It’s just—alright, he’ll admit it. He’s sore. Has never been sore after sex in his life but today?
Today, he’s reminded more often than he’d like of what happened during his overnight break in Chicago. Sixteen hours of plane-free bliss before he’s back on a jet to serve another rich asshole on their way to somewhere else he can’t afford.
He adjusts his bag. Winces. Notices Dorcas’ raised brow and glares. “I’m fine.”
“I was in the room next to yours last night.” She crosses her arms. “You’re more than fine. Very good, actually. Wait, no, I think it was more like, Yes, Regulus, you’re so good for—”
“I hope you choke on a plane peanut and die.”
“Honestly? That’d be great. I think that’s considered workers compensation.” Her grin is too cheeky for such an early hour, and Regulus just wants to disassociate and think of bronze skin and hazel eyes and disheveled black hair and—
“Excuse me, do you mind if I squeeze past you?”
Regulus freezes. Goes rigid and wants to die right where he stands in the middle of the jet’s doorway.
No.
There’s no chance the man who gave him the best sex of his life is here. Not on this jet. This jet which is—
Oh.
I’m a businessman. Nothing special. I travel a lot for work though.
But there are businessmen and there are CEOs. The difference is the former flies first class, and the latter flies in a custom-built Boeing 767.
Regulus turns slowly.
“Oh,” breathes James, eyes wide and slightly owlish. “It’s you.”
Regulus blinks up at him. It shouldn’t be possible, but he’s more devastating in the morning. Bleary-eyed with a plastic coffee cup in one hand, dressed in an old band T-shirt and gray joggers rather than a suit.
James grins, slow and bright. “I won’t lie, this is a really pleasant surprise.”
Dorcas snorts from somewhere behind Regulus. “I see I will be manning this plane alone today.”
Regulus wishes he could say he feels bad, but it’s hard to feel bad about much of anything when he’s 36,000 feet in the air, a strong arm around his waist and a smooth, lean-muscled body underneath him.
And he definitely doesn’t feel bad when James pushes two fingers inside him, kisses him so fiercely he feels teeth, and holds him tight when he begins to writhe at the pleasure of being stretched open.
There’s a private room at the end of the jet, because James Potter is filthy rich and spared no expense. It’s a bed bigger than Regulus has ever slept in, with sheets that cost more than he makes in a paycheck.
James sits against the headboard, Regulus in his lap and held close to his chest, and it’s as though last night never ended, but rather both of them took an extended break only to end up back here.
“You taste so fucking sweet,” James mutters into Regulus’ mouth, nipping at his bottom lip.
“Apple for breakfast,” Regulus explains, then blushes at the idiocy of his response. At least until James’ fingers crook inside him and he moans, low and filthy. “God, yes, right there. More of that.”
James snickers and mouths along Regulus’ jaw to the hollow point under his ear. “I know what you like, love. Learned a fair amount last night.” He manages to slip a third finger into Regulus. “And still loose, too.”
Regulus cries out at the brush of fingers inside him; he’s shaking, overwhelmed. “Please,” he begs, broken. “Don’t—”
“Shh. My plane, my rules.”
Regulus wants to hit him and fuck him, which he’s realizing is a heady combination to have in bed.
“When we land,” James says a moment later, fist around his cock to guide it to Regulus’ entrance, “I want to go on a proper date.”
“A proper date?” Regulus asks, but it comes on a punched-out breath when he sinks down on James’ cock. Lets it fill and stretch him, and oh, he’s so lucky he could have this twice.
“Yes. A proper date.” James leans back, hands on Regulus’ waist, following as Regulus rises slowly up and down on James’ lap. “You know, the ones with a nice savory dinner and a sweet dessert.”
Regulus takes James’ face between his palms. “You want to go on a date with me?”
“Fuck yes I do. You’re bloody brilliant.” James grins, and it’s unfair how handsome he is. Regulus wants to strangle him for it, for making him want. “And I want to get to know you.”
“You’re literally inside of me right now,” Regulus mutters with an eye roll.
James leans forward and up, and captures Regulus’ mouth with his. “Then let’s work backwards. My name is James Potter, and I was born in London on the twenty-seventh of March.”
Regulus laughs; he can’t help it. “This is the conversation you want to have while we have sex?”
“No. I’m going to fuck you first, but I thought I should give you the general idea of what I mean.”
“Focus on one thing at a time, James,” Regulus whispers. “Just focus on me.”
James’ smile is blinding. “Gladly.”