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David Washington has always had mixed emotions about commercial flights. He loves the thrill of flying, the freedom being 30, 000 ft in the air brings. He grew up in helicopters and his father's Cessna, one of few the perks of being the son of a chartered aircraft operator. So it isn't a fear of flying that makes Wash dread the overnight flight to Hawaii that he's currently boarding. Hell, it isn't even the crappy seats and lack of legroom. After all, Cessnas are pretty cramped. No, the thing that has Wash cursing his sister's decision to have a destination wedding is the fact that he has to sit next to some random stranger for a 12 hour flight as the children behind him kick the back of his seat.
Struggling through the stupidly tight aisle, Wash hefts his carry-on bag over his head and attempts to shove it into the overhead compartment. The bag is ridiculously heavy, quite possibly overweight, and his first try fails miserably and leaves him flailing like an idiot as his suitcase knocks into the woman waiting impatiently behind him. Shoot him a nasty glare, the lady places her hands on her hips and clears her throat with impatience. “Would you hurry up or get out of the way?”
Wash flushes with embarrassment, murmurs an apology, and steps into his row to allow the rude lady to pass. He decides it’s safer to just stay there until he absolutely needs to move, allowing the other passengers to pass as he roots around in his bag for his headphones and a book. Wash is so focused on finding his book that he starts when someone taps him on the shoulder. His eyes instantly shoot up to meet those of his assailants. Or more accurately, the man’s one piercing grey eye; the other eye being completely white with scar tissue. He’s immediately taken in by the other man’s striking features, gaze dropping down to follow the mesmerizing movement of pink lips. The words don’t even register with Wash the first time around and he only manages to drag his eyes from the tongue that darts out to wet said lips nervously when a soft chuckle sounds behind other other man.
“Looks like another one falls to your handsomeness love. I don’t think he heard you.” A tall blonde man is standing behind the object of Wash’s fascination, easily blocking the aisle as he hoists two bags into the overhead compartment. He glances over the brunette’s shoulder, focusing his attention on Wash. “You’ll have to excuse him. He doesn’t have the greatest concept of personal space.”
“It’s not my fault he’s in my seat.” The shorter man whines at the towering blonde, eyes never leaving Wash’s face. He reaches out a hand and places it against Wash chest, giving him a swift shove backwards. “Hey Freckles, you’re in my seat. Move.”
Wash looks up in shock from where he’s now awkwardly sprawled across two seats, his suitcase digging painfully into his back. The man that shoved him smirks, appraising the situation with amusement as the towering man crowds in to let the other people pass. The blonde man gives the other a swift swat to the back of his head, chiding him. “Play nice or it’ll be a really long flight. I’m sorry about him. He’s not the biggest fan of flying so he had a few whiskeys and now he’s being an asshole. Did you need help with your bag?”
“Please.” Wash struggles upright, ignoring the proffered hand, before digging out his bag from behind him. Adjusting himself so that he’s now sitting properly in his seat, Wash waits until the middle man is seated before passing it to the tallest of his seatmates. The man accepts it and slots it into the compartment easily, shirt riding up to show some of his defined abs at the same time his sleeves pull tight around his biceps. Wash isn’t sure how he gets the next words out without stuttering. This flight is going to be long for none of the regular reasons. “Thank you. I was having a bit of trouble getting it in earlier with the other passengers crowding me.”
“Don’t worry about it. In fact, consider it part of the huge apology that we’ll probably end up owing you by the end of this flight.” Wash watches as he sinks into the aisle seat, awkwardly folding his legs into the minimal room between his seat and the one in front of him. His legs are impossibly long and Wash stifles his sigh when he realizes that means he’ll be stuck beside the gorgeous douchebag for the entire trip. There is no way that daddy-long-legs will fit in the middle seat. Blondie reaches a hand across Asshole, offering Wash a smile when he awkwardly shakes it. “Name’s North. Great first impressions here is York. I’ll try to keep him occupied so he doesn’t bother you too much. Like I said earlier, he’s not the greatest flier around, but I gave him a couple of Ativan 15 minutes ago and once it kicks in he should be out like a light.”
“Wash.” He shakes North’s hand quickly, returning the smile with weak one of his own. Wash’s heart flutters with relief when the flight attendant saves him from having to reply further. Doing up his seat belt, he allows himself to become immersed in the boring safety talk. As soon as it finishes, Wash shoves his ear buds into his ears and hits play on his iPod, efficiently signifying his disinterest in conversation. As much as he’d like engage either of his two good looking seatmates in conversation, he’s pretty sure they’re together and he knows he won’t be able to resist flirting. Resting his head against the window, Wash lets himself drift off.
45 minutes into the flight, Wash is awoken by a heavy weight dropping down onto his shoulder. Scrubbing a hand across his face, he takes in the situation. It seems the Ativan has finally kicked in and York has decided to use Wash as a pillow. He tugs his headphones out, tucking away his iPod before addressing the problem at hand. The words die on his lips as he glances at the empty aisle seat. There is no point in requesting that North remove his boyfriend’s head from Wash’s shoulder if he isn’t around to act on it. The freckled blonde debates shrugging the man’s head off anyway but can’t quite allow himself to sink that low. He tells himself it’s because he’s a nice guy and it has absolutely nothing to do with how utterly adorable the asshole looks when he’s asleep.
Accepting his decision, Wash relaxes into the contact, allowing himself a moment to daydream. Leaning his head against the window, he falls into a fantasy where York is his boyfriend and it’s more than just the brunette’s head that is pressed against him. So immersed in his head, Wash doesn’t notice the arm wrap around his chest or York’s head slide down his shoulder, face burying into his neck. What does snap him back to reality is the warm press of lips against his clavicle before a body wiggles its way into his lap. Wash tenses, frozen in panic as York sighs contently, an arm looping around Wash’s shoulder and the other sliding under his shirt to rest on his ribs.
A noise of distress leaves his lips when he attempts to stand, intent on depositing the sleeping brunette back in his seat, only to realize that his seat belt is still securely fastened around his hips. He curses quietly; the last thing he needs is a black eye for his sister’s wedding. Pushing a hand against York’s shoulder, Wash tries to shake him awake. The only result is the other man burrowing deeper against his chest. A flush paints itself across Wash’s cheeks as his body reacts.
“Great. Not only am I going to get beat to a bloody pulp by his boyfriend… but he’s also managing to give me an awkward boner. Jesus Christ, can this get any fucking worse?” Wash mutters to himself. In that particular moment, of course, the plane decides to jump around a little, causing York to bounce in his lap. Wash wraps a hand securely around the man’s waist so he doesn’t tumble onto the floor. North chooses the exact moment that Wash lets out an almost inaudible moan of arousal to return.
“What the fuck?” The leggy blonde hisses angrily, eye’s glued to the arm Wash has wrapped around York and the hand that he has pressed against the brunette’s thigh to keep him from bouncing too much. North leans over Wash menacingly, forcing his eyes away from the seemingly possessive position to study the other blonde’s freckled face. “What are you doing to my boyfriend?”
Wash squeaks in dismay, shrinking away from the ferociousness of North’s glare. He’s already feeling overwhelmed with York’s violation of his personal space. He’s never been that big on public touching, and now he suddenly has one stranger cuddled up in his lap and another stretched over him with murder in his eyes. It’s enough to make him tremble, so he allows himself to meet North’s gaze with all of his emotions on display. He’s not sure whether it’s the look of overwhelmed terror in his eyes or the quiet plea for help, but whatever it is, North’s gaze softens and he immediately rocks back into York’s seat to give Wash some more room.
“Please explain how York ended up asleep in your lap, Wash.” Although North’s glare has died down a little, there is still steel in his question. The plane hits another small patch of turbulence, jostling York and making him shift in Wash’s lap. The flush on Wash’s cheeks grows more pronounced, especially because his time it isn’t the freckled man who moans. A look of contemplation flashes across North’s face; so brief that Wash isn’t entirely sure he saw right. Instead of dwelling on it, he decides to answer the taller man’s question.
“The Ativan kicked in and I woke up when he fell asleep against my shoulder. I was going to direct him towards you but you weren’t there. I didn’t want to be mean and shrug him off so I just let him use me as a pillow. The next thing I know, he’s crawling into my lap and pressing his face into my neck.” The pitch of Wash’s voice is steadily rising until he reaches his own request, which he asks in what could easily be classified as a shriek if not for the fact he practically whispers it. “Could you please get him off of me now?”
North chuckles, the rest of the tension draining from his body at the explanation. Wash meets his stare and for a moment it seems like North is considering letting York stay where he is. The situation changes, however, when the plane hits a third patch of turbulence and swiftly drops them ten feet in altitude, causing the seat belt sign to come on. York snaps into wakefulness with a terrified and pitiful whimper, burrowing into Wash’s chest as he starts to tremble. Wash wraps his arms around the brunette without thinking, rubbing soothing circles on his lower back as he eyes North’s white knuckles. Using the most calming voice he can muster, Wash offers an explanation in hopes of calming the nerves of his two companions. “It’s OK. Just a little patch of cold air. There’s a small storm out there so we’re probably going to through a few more shaky patches, but I promise it won’t be any worse than that OK? The changes in air temperature just toss the plane around a bit, that’s all. We barely fell ten feet out of almost 40, 000.”
Wash ceases his prattling when the whiteness fades from North’s knuckles and York’s shaking mellows out. The plane shakes again, drawing a distressed moan from the terrified man in Wash’s lap just as the flight attendant arrives at their row. “Sirs, the seat belt sign has been turned on. For your own safety I’m going to have to ask your boyfriend to return to his own seat and for all of you to fasten your belts.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.” Wash mutters, blushing yet again. Releasing his hold on York, he attempts to pry the man’s hands from their death grip on his shirt. This only causes the terrified brunette to cling tighter, fists clenching into both the front and the back of the material.
“Don’t make me. Please don’t make me. I can’t do it. Please.” Wash winces, matching the worried look in North’s eyes as he cradles York again. The man in his lap is falling apart, sobbing into his shoulder with terror.
The man from the airline’s eyes grow wide as he listens to York break down, spiraling into an anxiety attack. Another patch rocks him forward and he catches himself on the back of the seats in front of them.“I’m sorry but I really must insist you move him into his own seat. While I understand that he is in distress, he needs to be buckled in for the safety of everyone on board. Do you need assistance?”
Wash shoots him a glare and is about to snap at him when North gives the man a reassuring smile. His voice is calm and confident. “We’ve got this. It will just take a few moments to calm him down so please continue with your check and we will have him in his seat by the time you make your way back.”
Satisfied with North’s answer, the man makes his way down the aisle, leaving the two men to sort out York. North immediately leans over the other two, tangling a hand in York’s hair, pressing his fingers reassuringly into the other man’s scalp. His voice is low and soft, easing the terrified man’s trembling. “Shh love. I know you’re frightened and you don’t want to move, but you have to. You’ll be safer sitting in your seat with your belt done up than you will be in Wash’s lap. Besides, I’m getting a little bit jealous of you cuddling with a good looking stranger instead of me.”
Wash can feel York relaxing against him with North’s coaxing, so by the time the other man reaches his teasing conclusion, the brunette has calmed down enough to reward his boyfriend with a small chuckle as he pulls his face away from Wash’s damp shirt. North practically beams, pressing a gentle kiss to the tear stained cheek York presents him. Wash suppresses the small flash of jealousy that shoots through him at the display, shifting underneath them as York surges forward to catch North in a proper kiss, hands releasing Wash’s shirt in favour of wrapping around his boyfriend’s neck. The taller blonde uses the distraction to tug him out of Wash’s lap and into the middle seat. Wash can’t stop himself from watching as North breaks the kiss, thumb tracing over the scarring on his partner’s cheek. His ears strain to catch the words whispered between the two lovers.
“See, that wasn’t so bad was it?” North places a peck on York’s lips. “If you do up your seat belt we can even put the armrest up and cuddle. And if you’re really good, I bet you could even convince Mr. Adorable over there to join us. He seems a little taken by you and I must admit I’m more than a bit intrigued.”
“Really?” York’s low moan shoots straight through Wash, settling warm and arousing in the his groin. He watches as the other man fumbles with his belt for a moment before fastening it securely. “You mean we can have Captain Freckles? Because you know I don’t want to stop at just cuddling, North. And we haven’t had a threesome in a while. I don’t want to you to be uncomfortable again.”
“Don’t worry. I already feel comfortable with him. But I wasn’t suggesting just sex, love. You said you’ve been thinking about expanding our family but you aren’t sure if you’re responsible enough for a kid or a dog. So I’ve been thinking… what if we start dating another person together?” North sounds genuine and embarrassed, his eyes dropping to the floor when York gapes at him. Wash winces and tries to block out the rest of the conversation. He doesn’t need to listen to himself be rejected in a hypothetical conversation; he gets enough of that in reality. It’s harder said than done, as York’s voice raises with incredulity.
“Are you serious? You want to add a third person to our relationship? And a complete stranger, nonetheless? You’re fucking kidding right? ” Wash can detect something that sounds a little like hurt underneath the shock in York’s voice. Judging from the wince he catches out of the corner of his eye, North can hear it as well. His voice drops a little. “Or am I not enough anymore? You finally got tired of me then, hey?”
“No! No, York… I will never get tired of you. I love you. So very very much. I just thought that you might be open to something like that because of all the flirting you do. As for Wash… well, the two of you seemed pretty into each other. And I like him too. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” North trails off as he searches York’s face for something. Wash wishes he could just disappear in this moment. He’d rather not be at the center of any couple’s fight. Especially one this awkward. No matter how he tries though, Wash can’t cut out North’s quiet tone. “I’m sorry love. I was trying to find a way to give you all the threesomes you want without being overwhelmingly jealous. And I haven’t felt a single moment of jealousy for Wash yet. But it was a stupid idea, so lets just forget about it.”
“That’s the best suggestion you’ve had all day.” Inexplicably, Wash feels his heart crumble when York grumbles his agreement. North’s face falls briefly before he covers it up, extending his arm to accept the shorter man as he cuddles against him. Wash shuffles through the pocket in front of him to locate his ipod. Pressing the earbuds firmly back into his ears, he rests his head against the window, resolving to keep to himself for the rest of the flight. A resolution that he keeps, gently but insistently untangling his hand from York’s when they hit another patch of turbulence, tucking his hands into his lap instead. He’s forced to shake the brunette off a second time when North disappears again, just in time of another large drop in altitude. He’s unsuccessful, however, and the other man clings persistently, both arms wrapped around Wash’s and his face buried into the freckled man’s shoulder. One of his hands knocks the headphones from Wash’s ears as he struggles to avoid York.
“Get off of me. I am not your boyfriend.” Wash shakes his arm free, wincing at the bitterness and hurt that laces his voice. Confusion shoots across York’s face, mingling with the fear. He reaches for Wash again when the cabin shakes, clutching wildly at him. Pushing him back into his own seat, Wash holds him there firmly, repeating himself clearly. “I am not your boyfriend. Stop clinging to me. It’s just a little bit bumpy, you’ll be fine until North gets back.”
“Please.” York lets out a little whimper, grasping for Wash still. “I know you aren’t my boyfriend. But I’m scared and you made it better last time. Please Wash! North isn’t here and it’s scary and… and… I need you. Please.”
Despite the sting of rejection still ringing through his veins, Wash can’t stop his resolve from crumbling in the face of York’s pitifulness. He pushes the armrest up, allowing the brunette to tuck in against his side before running his hand down the other man’s back. Mimicking his earlier actions, Wash rubs patterns on York’s lower back, gently chasing away the tension there. When the man in his arms sighs wistfully, Wash knows he’s going to regret this moment for a long time. Knowledge that only grows when his calming motions coax York to sleep with his head resting against Wash’s chest this time. He continues to draw shapes across the brunette’s back as the man slumbers, using it as a method for distracting himself from the intense crush fortifying itself inside of him.
It’s another ten minutes before North shuffles back to their row, settling into his seat as he eyes up York’s position appraisingly. He sighs, offering Wash a tired smile. The freckled blonde offers him a shrug in return, careful not to he sleeping companion. North reaches over to run a hand through York’s hair again. “Are you OK with this Wash? Because I can always move him over here.”
“It’s fine.” Wash returns his tired smile. “I don’t have to get up as often as you. My legs aren’t as long so I don’t need to stretch them as much.”
“Well… If you don’t mind, then I’m going to take advantage of him only using half his seat and use his shoulder as a pillow so I can stretch out enough to nap.” North yawns, causing Wash to yawn immediately after. He grins at the buried man. “Would you like to nap with us, Wash?”
“Hmm. A nap does sound pretty good.” He agrees readily, leaning his head back against the window. There is a few minutes of silence before Wash screws up the courage to initiate conversation with North. He’s about to ask what the blonde man and his ridiculous boyfriend are headed to Hawaii for when the other man’s eyes slip closed and his breathing evens out. Wash sighs, closing his eyes and allowing sleep to take him.
This time Wash wakes to a pair of lips pressing softly against his forehead. York’s voice drifts through his consciousness. “You’re right. He is pretty adorable. And incredibly nice. Even though I’m positive he overheard our earlier conversation, he still let me cuddle up to him. Maybe your idea isn’t so off… I can easily see myself in a relationship with him.”
“Hmm.” North hums in contemplation. “If you want to try this then you’re going to have to suggest it to him. I don’t want him to think I’m going behind your back or anything. But maybe before we do anything we should actually have a conversation with him. We don’t even know if he lives near Cincinnati or not. He could have just had a layover there or something. Hell, it’s possible that he’s not even single.”
“Well before we can have a conversation he needs to be awake.” Wash can hear the mischievous note in York’s voice.
“Don’t you dare, York.” North scolds him. “Let Wash sleep. He’s probably exhausted from all of your antics already.”
“Aww. But North.” The brunette’s tone is just shy of petulant. “The sooner he wakes up, the sooner we can get our questions answered and the sooner we get to make out with him. I can’t wait to taste those freckles. And you can’t honestly tell me you haven’t been thinking the same thing since you first saw them. I’m surprised drunk me didn’t jump all over that.”
“That’s because you were too busy being an asshole and shoving him over. We really need to work on your manners when you are drunk.” North sighs. “Or maybe just your manners period. But yes, I’ll admit it. I have contemplated tasting those freckles for quite some time. However, that doesn’t mean you have permission to wake him up. We still have 7 and a half hours left on this plane. Don’t rush it.”
Wash suppresses the smile that threatens to stretch across his face, remaining still as York lightly traces a finger down his cheek. “Do you think he’ll say yes? I really want to kiss him North. He’s too cute.”
“You’re sure you want to do this, right?” Nervousness makes North’s voice tremble slightly. “Polyamory isn’t easy York. And this isn’t just going to be kisses and cuddling and awesome sex. There is going to be feelings and fights and meeting family and friends. Do you think you can handle that?”
York snorts. “Are you, of all people, doubting my ability to commit? If you want this and he agrees then I’m going to try my damned hardest at it. Besides, he’s already kind of enthralled me. Not many people can calm me down like he did. And even less are willing to do so after they’ve actually talked to me. So yes, North. I am sure I want to do this.”
There is some shuffling, and then York’s fingers retract from his face as the man shifts away from him. Wash risks opening his eyes, and is immediately confronted by the sight of North and York sharing a passionate kiss. One of North’s huge hands is cupping the back of York’s neck while the other wraps around his waist, tugging the brunette in as close as the lap belt will allow. Wash watches in fascination as York’s hands dive into the other man’s blonde hair, dragging a soft moan out of him with each pull. There is no question in his mind that he’ll say yes in an instant, should they ask him to join. There is just something so alluring about the couple. It’s almost as though they were made for him, like the two other pieces in the three piece puzzle he belongs to.
Wash averts his gaze, stretching and letting out a yawn as if he’d just woken up. The reaction is so immediate that it could almost be considered comical. York breaks the kiss, head snapping towards Wash so fast that he’s lucky he doesn’t get whiplash. North chuckles at his boyfriend’s obvious excitement, reaching forward to rest a calming hand on the back of his neck when he notices the taken aback expression on Wash’s face. His whisper isn’t quite low enough and Wash can just make out his words. “Relax York. You’re going to scare him off. Wash doesn’t know why you are so excited, remember? Don’t come on too strong. Remember what happened last time you tried that?”
“I got slapped.” York whispers back mournfully. “You don’t think he’ll hit me, do you?”
“As long as you take it slow and don’t push him too far I doubt he’ll hit you. Besides, you have me here to help.” North nudges York gently. “Start with the questions. Treat it like a normal conversation, OK?”
York is about to answer back when Wash interrupts. He’s eager to get passed the awkward how-do-I-start-this-conversation stage, so despite hearing the entirety of their whisper conversation he butts in by asking about it. “What are you whispering about over there? And why are you looking at me like I hold all the answers in the universe?”
“We were just discussing how cute you are and what we’d have to do to get you in our bed.” York’s reply is immediately followed up with a wink as he answers the second question. “So for us, you do have all the important answers.”
North lets out a mournful groan, dropping his face into one hand, the other slapping firmly across York’s mouth, effectively muffling the next thing that falls out of his mouth enough so that Wash can’t fully make it out. “Oh god. I am so sorry Wash. York’s an idiot and he doesn’t have the greatest people skills, as you can see. What he meant to do was to ask you where you were from, whether you were single and if you were interested in dating us. But since he’s impulsive and ridiculous and about as subtle as a brick to the back, we’ve apparently just skipped to the part where we take you home and fuck you, because screw being adults with functioning relationships.”
The frustration leaking out of every syllable North utters causes York to stop pulling at the hand covering his mouth. In fact, by the end of it his hands are hanging limply by his sides and his eyes are wide with the realization that he fucked up. His grey eye scans Wash’s face apologetically before dropping down to focus on his hands when he doesn’t find any reaction. He reaches his hand up to gently tug North’s away from his mouth. “I’m sorry Wash. Sometimes I open my mouth without thinking and word vomit just happens, especially when I’m nervous. Can we start again please?”
Wash studies York briefly before shifting forward without saying a word. York and North both tense as if expecting a punch, particularly after Wash grips the front of York’s shirt. North reaches forward, intent on intercepting any blows before they can be fully thrown. But Wash isn’t gearing up for violence, and he merely chuckles before tugging York towards him slightly so he can seal their lips together in a sweet kiss. Despite York’s best attempts, Wash keeps it short and chaste, pulling back after a moment to meet North’s ice blue eyes. York tries to pull him back for another kiss but he resists and North gently removes the other man’s arms from around Wash’s neck.
“Relax love. Let him go.” The words are coaxing at first, but when he finally has his fingers laced firmly through York’s, it turns more demanding. “The next kiss is mine anyway.”
Wash smiles at him, leaning passed the sandwiched man to offer North the same brief kiss that York received. The blonde accepts it with a pleased hum, allowing Wash to break away without any fuss. Once Wash is settled back in his seat he grins at the both. “I’m going to answer your questions now, OK? I’m from Reading, Ohio. I am single, but hopefully this will change all of that because I would absolutely love to date the two of you.”
“Yesss.” York breathes out before launching himself forward to devour Wash’s lips in a ravenous kiss, hands cupping his face and thumbs gently stroking along his cheeks. Wash flounders in the man’s enthusiasm for a moment before matching his pace, wrapping one hand around the brunette’s neck and reaching for North with the other. The tallest man grips Wash’s hand in his own giant one, running the other over and up the freckled arm looped around York’s neck. He kisses Wash’s fingers one by one, letting his lips brush over knuckles and trace scars. When York finally breaks the kiss and leaves them gasping for air, North tugs him away, placing a soft kiss on his cheek as he allows Wash to catch his breath. When the freckled man’s breathing returns to normal, North leans across York to kiss Wash with a slow intensity that is completely different, but no less passionate, than the previous man’s kiss. Wash melts into it, whimpering softly when North pulls away too soon.
“We live in White Oak and, as you can see, we’re incredibly happy that you want to date us. We should probably focus on talking for a little bit. Which means no touching, York.” North growls the last part as he slaps York’s hand away from Wash’s thigh.
“Aww. Come on North.” York pouts at him, hand stealthily returning to its previous position the moment the other man’s attention moves elsewhere. Wash drops his hand down to cover it, lacing their fingers together and effectively stopping it from wandering. York grins at him, flipping his hand over so their palms are pressed together. Wash winks at North and receives a knowing smile in return.
“So. Let’s play 20 questions then? Each of us asks a question and all three of us have to answer, any question about anything. If someone feels uncomfortable answering then the person who asked the question gets a redo.” Wash offers, watching York perk up at the idea.
“Oh! Can I go first? Pleasssse? I have a good one.”
North groans, turning to Wash with a warning in his voice. “This is going to be an embarrassing and long game. Don’t take anything he says seriously, OK?”
Wash simply nods in agreement before gesturing to York. “Go ahead then. Ask away.”
York smirks. “Can I make out with you now?”