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“I really hate connecting flights.”
Shinsou Hitoshi crossed his arms over his chest defiantly, bobbing his back clad leg as impatience radiates from him. His boyfriend, whose pink cheek pressed closely into his shoulder, began to shake off the sleep he’d fallen into about an hour or two ago. Kaminari Denki extended his hand into Shinsou’s lap, smoothing his thumb over calloused knuckles as he looked up at him; a slumber ridden smile stretched across his face.
A smile almost too bright to look at
Radiant and purposeful; like the sun in the middle of July
Is it your intention to blind me with that
July smile
my love?
“I think of it as a cheat. It’s like visiting two or more places when we were only supposed to see one.” Kaminari cooed, running his palm flat against Shinsou’s chest. He flicked his wrist into circles of comfort, generating a special kind of spark only he could produce. “It’ll all be over soon.”
“How long are we meant to sit in the plane for after it lands?”
“About... thirty or so minutes. We’re allowed to leave the plane, you realize?”
“Kam- I just.” Shinsou huffed, pinching at the bridge of his nose. This was all so much. He hadn’t expected Kaminari to throw him a surprise birthday party with their new friends. He was even more surprised by the amount of people that showed up; all there to celebrate him. Hues of light that burned bright, like a pair of lovers eyes in the middle of June. Shinsou also didn’t expect his boyfriend to whisk him away right after the party- much like an unscheduled honeymoon. Midoriya had handed him a duffle bag full of travel essentials (so that’s where all his boxers and good t-shirts had gone), but only after Kaminari had fished through it and threw the condoms that were snuck in right in Kirishima’s face, who’d burst into laughter. Denki knew it was payback for making rude sex jokes earlier in front of a flustered Bakugou, but this was war now and he intended to win. And then they went.
He should learn to expect nothing but surprises from this lot.
But still, Shinsou wasn’t built to show this much emotion, and yet, here it often was; like a dam that waited centuries to burst over in a river much too violent to safely flow. But he could keep it together, cracks and all. Repress it in the way he trained himself to. “I’m not understanding the point. That’s all.”
Denki blew blonde strands away from his electric brown eyes and dragged his index finger to Hitoshi’s jaw. Pale white and sharp; a dagger made out of snow. Kaminari dreamed of wielding it. He knew what he liked. Patience was a virtue; but it was never his. He pressed his lips to each corner of Shinsou’s mouth and felt an instinctive jolt back; but he ignored it. Shinsou wasn’t used to unyielding affection. Kaminari knew what he liked. Patience was a virtue; and it was his to learn to use.
“Then I’ll have to show you.”
The plane was landing, now, as Kaminari joined his index finger with his middle and pressed against lips that would wish to protest. Shinsou would have to trust him; he knew this. It shouldn’t have been so hard, putting faith into the sun. Bright light was meant to guide, after all. Once Kaminari had made up his mind, there was no changing it. Shinsou knew what he liked, and he’d have to brace himself for it.
Is this fear that I feel?
I’ve never felt but one thing before; restraint.
Like cloth that binds tight against fresh wounds, stained red (the color of passion) with blood
And desire
Before you, I could never let the others in.
But you are my open door. The light along the tunnel; but not the end.
You walk with me,
And you do light me; it is because of you
that I blaze.
The plane landed abruptly. Shinsou found himself gripping at the blue grey armrest, gritting his teeth and planting his feet. Kaminari, simultaneously relaxed but ecstatic, kisses his cheeks and jaw for comfort. So this, Shinsou thought to himself, was affection.
Why did it feel so loud?
Once the people cleared out and the air hostesses made their way to the cockpit; they were alone. Showered in the orangey blue tint of the sun going down; it made shadows on their clothes and etched patterns into the seats. Thirty minutes to kill. Luckily for them, Kaminari came armed. He stood up, shoving two fists into the curve of his waist excitedly and began to twirl around the empty cabin. He leaned over Shinsou and unlocked his own phone, removed airplane mode, and chirped;
“Hey, Siri! Play my Falling in Love in Thin Air Playlist!”
Okay! Playing Falling In Love In Thin Air Playlist.
The familiar melody of 'Put Your Head On My Shoulder' began to fill the tiny space of the airplane. Kaminari couldn’t help but smile, allowing the song to course in and out of his body in waves. He traveled along the now lit catwalk of the plane, leaning dramatically into empty seats and pushing himself off of them; kicking his feet playfully up and down in the air. He peered over the blue back of a chair; he was suddenly several rows away from Hitoshi; and found himself meeting a confused, purple stare. He smiled again.
“Babbbyyyy~” Denki called, pushing himself up to stand again. “Dance with me!”
There it was again.
Hesitance.
“Hitoshi?” Kaminari asked. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach; the sensation of a first name basis still felt new. Deliate; like handling luxurious, limited edition fine China. He began walking over to Hitoshi in time with the song. Was that on purpose? Coincidental? Shinsou didn’t know if he wanted the answer. It wasn’t fair that he could move like this either way; Men were not meant to move like angels, and yet there Kaminari was, floating instead of walking. It was absolutely and completely unfair.
“At least follow the instructions of the song. But, of course, you don’t have to...”
Kaminari shot Shinsou a coy, playful expression over his shoulder. There was a poker faced expression Hitoshi had learned; and Kaminari had learned that it spelled out confliction, but intrigue. Just the expression he was looking for. He spun on his heel and grabbed Shinsou by the hands and pulled him up. How did Kaminari manage to be graceful and forceful at the same time? Before Hitoshi could work out the answer, he felt his head being pressed against Kaminari’s shoulder; small and round, his right hand slipping into a softer one and his shoulder blades encompassed by a warm palm. Whisked away indefinitely by the soft turning of steps all in tune. It was the work of an angel that knew how to dance.
How could he say no?
Their dance position wasn’t really practical. Shinsou was taller than Kaminari; by more than enough to which this placement could have been uncomfortable. And perhaps it would have been, if Shinsou had taken enough time to think about it. But he wasn’t thinking for once; he was feeling. He had a lot to feel about.
“Put Your Head On My Shoulder
Hold me in your arms, baby
Squeeze me oh-so-tight
Show me that you love me too
Put your lips next to mine, dear
Won't you kiss me once, baby?”
Shinsou followed the instructions of the song. Sometimes they pulled apart; allowing themselves to dance freely around the cabin. And even then, never too far away so that they were out of reach, always reaching back whether knowingly or completely absentmindedly to brush skin. Bouncing in chairs not meant to be bounced in, their fingers touched (Are you here?) having fun in a place meant for practically, their shoulders brushed (I am here.) Peering from between cushions (Where are you?) Feeling lighter grounded in a plane than in the air they cruised only moments before. (Here I am. Never let me go.) Everything began to slow. The fabric of the electric blonde’s flared, jersey pants as he spun effortlessly, the golden blur of his hair pressing into his cheeks and across his eyes, but not enough to blind his vision of Hitoshi. The only thing he could see. The nervous wiggling of Hitoshi’s awkward, but earnest dance moves- he was trying; and it was all Kaminari could ask for- and the chorused sounds of two men in love laughing on a plane. Unexpected. Seemingly unfit. Daring when it shouldn’t be.
Much like them.
But they always found their way back to each other. As natural as the magnetic pull of the moon and the ocean; crashing together to make the tides. Despite being impractical; Shinsou found his cheek pressed against Kaminari’s shoulder, hands intertwined, bodies pressed tight (so close together, even air found no room between them), feet stepping in time. A song all their own.
Intimacy.
A luxury I’d been tricked into thinking was
Too much for me to afford
But then you showered me in gold
(I found it in your eyes, your hair, your very being)
I now know opulence.
The song began to slow down. So did they. The music decided to stop; a signal of the end. The dancing, however, did not. The tune changed to something else; it managed to keep in time with them. They set the pace, as lovers often do. Melodies will always follow.
“I’m surprised you haven’t played a corny birthday song.” Shinsou murmured, closing his eyes in comfort. “Something slow. Maybe a little slutty.”
“Is that a request?” Kaminari smiled, rubbing the back of Shinsou’s neck. “I’ve just the tune in mind.”
Kaminari gently hovered both their bodies over to where his phone was place, leaning in the direction of the device to change the tune. They were one, now- Hitoshi was much like a cat in this way. Draped lazily in Kaminari’s arms with no intention of moving any time soon. But this is how Kaminari desired it to be; he didn’t want it to change no matter how impractical it was for mobility. Ease was for chumps; something he’d learned as a hero and applied (recklessly) to his everyday life.
The melody of “Happy Birthday, Mister President,” by Marilyn Monroe began to play. It was deep and relaxing, like honey glaze melting over their eardrums and filling the cabin with saccharine notes. Sickeningly sweet, old time good.
Kaminari’s humming blended effortlessly with the song in Shinsou’s ear. He found himself shoving his face into the side of Kaminari’s neck- as if to cool the burn with fire that showed red on his cheeks. His breath became a little shaky as the modified lyrics drew laughter out of him that he didn’t know he had stored in his stomach as Kaminari cooed on.
“Happy Birthday, to you.
Happy Birthday, to you.
Happy Birthday, Mister Hero Hopeful
Happy Birthday, to you.
Thanks, Mr. Hero Hopeful
For all the things you’ve done
The battles that you’ve won
The way you deal with hate and fear
And fight villains by the ton
We thank you so much, everybody!”
Shinsou pressed his mouth to Kaminari’s neck and squeezed him tighter. Fits of pure emotion. A safe space to express without judgement. This is what it meant to let go. To love and to be loved. God... this was intimacy. Denki’s smile widened at the gesture.
“Grow old along with me,” Kaminari said, a grin tugging at the ends of his mouth from ear to ear. “The best is yet to be, birthday boy.”
Shinsou hummed in thought. “Shakespeare?”
“No. Try again.”
“Jane Austen?”
“Nope. Another!”
“Hemingway-hey?”
Kaminari rolled his eyes as Shinsou grinned. Open teasing without fear. Playing without caution. Light as a feather. This was falling in love in thin air.
“Shut up. It’s Robert Browning, he’s an English poet. Wrote some plays too.”
“Did I ever mention how much I love that you’re secretly a huge word nerd?” Shinsou muffled, smoothing his palms down Kaminari’s shoulder blades and around his hips. “It’s cute.”
“Well, it’s not a secret if you pay attention,” Denki retorted, rolling his eyes. Silence befell them again. The light of the sun setting on the day coated their slowed dancing figures in darker shades of orange and purple. Their bodies were still pressed together, much like their hearts.
“Have I changed your mind?” Denki whispered into thickets of violet hair. It smelled of flowers and masculinity; like rose petals soaked in forest rain.
The dancing stopped. Hitoshi straightened up, now hovering over Kaminari and needing to look down to meet his gaze (but he wasn’t beneath him). Pools of honey and winters of violet eyes locked together.
“Not about connecting flights.” He responded, earning an indignant huff from Kaminari as he shoved his face into his chest. Hitoshi leaned his chin into Denki’s fluffy, tousled blonde hair to hide his smile. Their gentle swaying continued.
Not connecting flights.
But about something much more important than that.