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As the plane soared away from Mexico, Leo laid on his back, laughing.
"Holy shit, Vincent, we fuckin' did it!" He crowed.
Vincent's reaction was a bit more held back as he shook his head, blinking as if he didn't believe what he had seen. "Oh man. Oh, man." A small smile appeared on his cheeks.
"I can't fuckin' believe it! Did you see that rat bastard fall?! And-and the motorcycles? Ah, the motorcycles!" Leo sat up, eyes shining with giddy triumph and leftover adrenaline. “You an’ me? We’re a regular fuckin’ dynamic duo! We could do anything, ‘long as we’re together!” He cheered.
At the front of the plane, Emily rolled her eyes. “Yeah, if you don’t mind, I’m gonna just tune out this celebration. Tap my shoulder if you need me.” With that, the pilot put her headphones back on.
Vincent could only smile at the other man, his eyes strangely soft. “We are pretty nice, aren’t we-mmph!”
His words were abruptly cut off as Leo kissed him.
Oh. Oh man.
Vincent froze as Leo’s hands cupped the sides of his face. His hooked nose bumped clumsily into Vincent’s, but Leo seemed far too focused on the feeling of Vincent’s lips against his to notice. Suddenly Vincent could hear nothing but the wild thumping of his heart against his ribcage. An errant thought wondered what would happen if the muscle burst straight out of his chest. It wouldn’t have been the worst injury he had received that day. ...Would it?
After a second—it had felt like so much longer—Leo drew back with a smile still just as wide as it had been before. His hands remained on Vincent’s cheeks, which were beginning to feel quite heated.
“I just can’t believe-“ Leo began, breathing a bit hard. His voice was full of mirth, affection, and something stronger. One could practically see the rays of sunshine emitted by his grin.
All of that vanished in an instant as Leo finally absorbed the shell-shocked look on Vincent’s face. The sides of his mouth fell like weights, his body going rigid. He swallowed.
“...Shit. I didn’t-ah fuck, I misread this. I thought- fuckin’ shit I fucked up, I’m sorry, you can-“ Leo began to withdraw his hands, “I’ll- I’m sorry Vincent, just forget this ever- this… this ever…”
His panicked syllables slowed. Blinking, Leo stared at the rough fingers gripping his wrist.
Then, ever so slowly, his hand was guided back up to a bearded cheek. A warm breath brushed against the base of his palm, the sensation sending shivers up his spine.
He swallowed. Leo met Vincent’s eyes for barely a second, catching a glimpse of startled vulnerability, warmth, hesitance—guilt?—before rough lips pressed themselves insistently against his.
Leo melted.
Oh man. Oh man.
As the plane flew into the darkening sky, the two men embraced; if for just a moment longer, just until they landed, this moment untethered to all else— it would be enough.
If only it could be enough.