Archive of Our Own ^beta

"Mr Bonnet, I need your full attention while I demonstrate the safety features of this aircraft."

Conveniently, Cabin Crew Manager Ed already had Stede's undivided attention thanks to his gorgeous rumbling voice, beautiful beard, blood-red lipstick and matching kitten heels, pencil skirt and blazer, complete with rainbow He/Him pin badge.

"My name is Ed and-"

"I'm Stede," he said, offering Ed his hand.

Ed's smile slanted but he still gave Stede a firm handshake. His nails were just as flawless as the rest of him. "I know, I saw your boarding card."

"Of course. Sorry, I just felt like I should introduce myself considering how…" Stede gestured to the rows of empty seat-pod things. "But I've interrupted you, sorry."

Ed looked amused rather than annoyed. Stede wasn't sure what to make of that.

"I'm Ed and I'll be your flight attendant today. On behalf of Ranger Airways and the entire crew, welcome on board this Ranger Airways flight 1717, non-stop from Bridgetown to London Heathrow. Our flight time will be eight hours and forty minutes and we'll be flying at an altitude of… I'm losing you."

"No, no, this is lovely!"

"You're the only person here mate, you don't have to hear the stats if you don't want to."

"Only if you'd rather not share them."

"I can live without."

Ed checked his seatbelt and Stede showed him his switched off phone, which earned him an approving nod that made him feel all tingly.

"You can put it in aeroplane mode if you prefer," Ed said.

"Thanks, but I'm planning to watch an Oscar hopeful or two."

Or he had been. Now, Stede was planning to try and watch an Oscar hopeful or two while being normal about Ed. Ed, the only other person in First Class, who was still dressed in a blood-red blazer, pencil skirt, heels and lipstick, his lovely hair secured in a simple looking (but no doubt actually incredibly complicated) bun.

So much for Stede's undivided attention. When he came back to his limited senses, Ed was putting down the demonstration seatbelt and pointing at the emergency exits with his capable and curiously spider-covered hands.

"Please take a few moments now to locate your closest ex- It's this one. We need to get out, we go this way, okay?"

"Okay. And you should take your heels off, in case the slide inflates."

"Whose safety briefing is this?"

"Sorry, please continue."

"The doors can be opened by moving the handle in the direction of the arrow and as you may have already heard, each door is equipped with an inflatable slide which can also be detached and used as a life raft."

Stede nodded along as Ed explained the oxygen mask while supemodelling it.

"Don't take the mask off till I tell you you can," Ed said.

Stede’s nodding reached a fever pitch.

"In the event of an emergency, please assume the brace position." Ed demonstrated in the pod opposite. "Life vest is in a pouch in the armrest there. When instructed to do so, open the pouch and remove the vest. Slip it over your head like this." Ed resumed his modelling career. "Pass the straps around your waist and adjust at the front. If you need to refill the vest-" Oh no. "Blow into the mouthpiece."

Now the astonishingly attractive man was miming putting his ruby-red lips around a tube and Stede was going to be banned from flying forever.

"There’s also a whistle and a light to attract attention."

"Fab," Stede croaked.

"I remind you that this is a non-smoking flight, so don’t even try it. Not here, not in the toilet, I’ll know."

"I don't smoke."

"Glad to hear it. Everything I’ve just said and all other safety information is on the card located in the pocket there, but just talk to me if you have any questions. If you can’t see me at any point during the flight, press that button and I’ll come straight over. Ranger Airways wishes you an enjoyable journey and- Do you celebrate Christmas?"

"Not very vigorously, how about you?"

"I’m Jewish."

"Ah, lovely."

Ed’s smile felt overwhelmingly kind. "Then I’ll wish you a very merry Monday Eve instead."

All Stede had to do was keep from bursting into spontaneous applause. Sadly, his hands didn’t get the memo.

"Mate, you really don’t need to clap."

Stede sent his hands into reverse.

Ed watched him. "What’s that you’re doing?"

"I’m un-clapping."

"Might wanna work on that, looks like you’re playing the accordion."

"I suppose it does. It really was a wonderful safety announcement."

No doubt being stuck in a near-empty, twilit liminal tube was doing strange things to his already strange brain, but Stede was fairly convinced Ed looked flattered.

"Glad you liked it," he said. "I need to take my seat but I’ll come back over as soon as we’re in the air, alright?"

"Thank you Ed, I’ll look forward to it."

Ed gave him another kind smile before strutting away.

Stede’s pod was in the middle of the plane so he couldn't stare out of the window as they took off, not that there would have been much to see so late at night. He still found himself imagining Bridgetown fading from view, his problems literally shrinking to nothing the higher they climbed. The seatbelt light pinged off just as he began compiling a pointless list of everything he had failed to pack in the mad rush to make his flight.

"I’m guessing you don’t have pyjamas in that briefcase of yours?" Ed said as he strode over, because he was apparently a mindreader, as well as gorgeous.

Pyjamas were near the top of Stede’s list of most missed belongings. For the first time in his life, he had managed to travel light. His father would never let him hear the end of it. Well, except for the fact that he…

"Stede?"

"Sorry?"

"I said you just brought a briefcase, so I’m guessing you don’t have any pyjamas with you?"

"That’s right."

"If you want to change out of your suit into something more comfortable there’s pyjamas in the footstool there, as well as a blanket made from pure Highland wool," Ed said, practically quoting Ranger Airways’ First Class brochure.

"Ah yes, wonderful. Thank you."

"Because this is an overnight flight, the next meal will be a breakfast of line-caught smoked kippers with buttery scrambled eggs, which we'll serve ninety minutes before landing." Yuck. "But I can get you some snacks now if you’re hungry?"

"Oh, that won’t be necessary."

"Shall I make your seat into a bed now or post-Oppenheimer?"

Great, he was going to have to watch Oppenheimer.

"Uh, whatever’s easiest for you," Stede said.

"Let’s do it now then."

Stede didn’t have it in him to be jealous of Ed, but the man’s casual confidence did nothing to help the massive crush Stede was nursing. He stood back and watched admiringly as Ed pressed buttons on a futuristic panel to make the seat morph into a passable bed, which he topped off with a perfectly plumped pillow and pure Highland wool blanket.

"There you are," Ed said. "Let me get you something to enjoy with your film, then I’ll leave you in peace. The cabin’s yours, so you can either change here or in the bathroom, whichever you prefer."

Something to enjoy? The only thing Stede could think of was Ed himself, which proved he had already gone fully insane. He took off his pitch-black suit and draped it haphazardly over one side of his pod before pulling on the pyjamas. They were a surprisingly pleasant brushed cotton, even if they were a shapeless one-size-fits-no-one. After making a hash of folding his shirt and cramming it in one of the pod’s many storage compartments, Stede lowered himself onto the bed, retrieved his reading glasses from the pocket of his miserable suit and set about studying the television’s controls.

He felt himself threaten to salivate like a desperate dog when Ed’s heels clicked back down the aisle. Awkwardly propping himself up on his elbows, he watched as the man offered him a champagne flute and ceramic bowl of popcorn.

"Those glasses suit you," Ed said.

Stede wondered if there was a button that would make the seat-bed swallow him whole. "Thank you. Uh, what are these?"

"I reckon they’re champagne and popcorn. I could taste them to check but you don’t want lipstick everywhere."

Stede really, really did. "But I didn’t order any…"

Ed smiled. "Is this your first time in First?"

"Ah, yes." Not that the Bonnets couldn’t afford it, but it was an excess and Father didn’t stand for excess. Stede took his champagne and snack determinedly. "Thank you, Ed."

"You’re welcome." Ed glanced at the screen. "Got that figured out?"

"Yes, all set."

"Enjoy your film. Remember, just press the button if you need me."

"I shall. Good night."

"Cheerio, mate," Ed said as he pulled the little privacy door closed.

Stede waited until Ed’s footsteps had retreated before sighing dreamily, popping on the headphones provided and pressing play.

Now this was the life. Champagne, popcorn and Oscar hopeful Oppenheimer. The freedom to do whatever he chose, finally the master of his own destiny.

Stede ate a triumphant handful of popcorn, then regretted the decision when it turned out to be toffee, the worst of all the popcorns. Next, he attempted to find a position that would allow him to wash the taste away with his champagne without triggering massive heartburn. The one he eventually hit upon left the little air blower wafting an annoying breeze across his face, so he found what looked to be the relevant dial on another space-age panel and twisted it. That angered the blower, which proceeded to blast him with a retaliatory gale. Fantastic. Stede elected to ignore it and turned his attention back to the film.

It was around the time Cillian Murphy began berating him in his father’s voice, dressed in blood-red one-size-fits-no-one pyjamas while they were both standing on the deck of a sailboat in the middle of a storm that Stede realised he had fallen asleep. After straightening his diagonal reading glasses, he discovered that Oppenheimer had finished Oppenheiming and that the blower was still furious with him, so much so that his teeth threatened to chatter. That was presumably what had woken him up.

No matter. He had his popcorn and his blanket. His toffee - urgh - popcorn and his wool - blargh - blanket. Stede covered himself with the blanket anyway. It might as well have been sandpaper. He ate some popcorn, trying not to think about his poor unsuspecting tooth enamel, then failed to wash it down with a drink from his empty champagne flute. That was clearly a sign that he should get more rest, more rest in the middle of his self-made typhoon. The call button glowed alluringly at him, but it felt extreme to use in the circumstances.

Instead, Stede faced away from the blower so it simply mussed his hair. Then he checked the clock on the television: four hours to London. He laid on his back but that was just inviting heartburn. Three hours and fifty minutes to London. He pulled the blanket right up to his defenceless chin, where it itched and itched and itched, then shoved the damn thing off completely, chattering teeth be damned. Three hours and forty eight minutes to London.

He gave the call button a longing trace with one finger before bucking up and considering the rest of his options, including putting the pillow protectively over his face or simply smothering himself with the thing. He opted for the former.

"You know you can turn the vent off, right?" Ed said.

Stede screamed quietly into his pillow. "Did I press the button? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to!"

"You didn’t, but I could hear you thrashing."

That was suitably mortifying. "I don’t know that I was..."

His words dissolved into gurgles when Ed reached over him to fiddle with the controls. Moments later, the gale ended.

"There."

"Oh, thank god!" Stede said, more deliriously than he’d intended. "I was freezing."

"If you were so cold, and you didn’t know how to turn it off…" Ed eyed the balled up blanket at Stede’s feet.

Stede wished he could seal himself in his pod so he could be alone with his shame but Ed was, fortunately and unfortunately, blocking the entrance. "It’s scratchy."

"It’s what?"

"It’s scratchy, it’s a scratchy blanket."

"It’s made from the purest Highland wool," Ed said.

"Which explains why it’s so scratchy."

A surprisingly small noise escaped Ed. A giggle. Stede was glad he was already lying down.

"Wait here," Ed smiled.

Stede resisted craning to watch as he disappeared into the crew’s section. When Ed returned, he was holding a duvet.

"Where did you get that?" Stede whispered, eyeing the contraband.

"I’m a magician."

"Really though?"

Ed draped it over him. Was Stede imagining how he took his time tucking him in just so?

"It’s from the crew’s quarters so I’m gonna need it back," Ed murmured.

"You’ve given me your duvet."

"You need to learn how to ask for what you want," Ed said, still smoothing it.

Stede gave up pretending not to watch him. "What do you want?"

"I’m the steward mate, it’s my job to ask you that."

"Do you want your duvet back?"

"Later, not now." Ed eyed the television. "How was Oppenheimer?"

"Oh, riveting."

"Yeah?"

"Harrowing too, of course."

"But did you enjoy it?"

Stede sagged. "I think I may have fallen asleep out of self-preservation. I was in the mood for something a little more upbeat."

"Barbie? Nah, that gets pretty existential."

"What else is likely to get nominated for an Oscar, I wonder?"

"Crazy idea, but maybe you could just watch something that isn’t hopeful it’ll get an Oscar." Ed leaned in conspiratorially. "Promise I won’t tell anyone."

"That does sound good."

"So what do you actually wanna watch?"

Stede forced himself to think. "Promise you won’t laugh."

Ed put his hand on his heart.

"When Harry Met Sally."

Ed made a noise not unlike Sally’s infamous moan. "I fucking love that film."

"You don’t have to flatter me Ed, I know it’s not high art."

"Hey, I won’t hear a word against Nora! It’s my favourite film, it's fucking perfect! Here-" Ed tapped on the screen with his perfectly manicured fingers until When Harry Met Sally popped up. "It’s your celebration, you get to decide what you watch."

Stede couldn’t bring himself to press play. "I never said I was celebrating."

"Aren’t you?"

"I…"

"Hold that thought." Ed disappeared behind the galley curtain, returning with two generously filled champagne flutes.

Stede took one. "Thank you."

"Come on, what’s the occasion?"

"My father died."

Ed paused mid-sip. "Oh."

"The funeral was today, in Bridgetown. I booked this flight instead of attending."

A slow, devious smile spread across Ed’s face. "So you are celebrating."

Stede winced. "Does that make me terrible?"

"Makes you interesting. What was he called?"

"Edward."

"Fuck off, seriously?" Ed laughed when Stede nodded. "Giving us Eds a bad name, was he?"

"That’s putting it mildly."

Ed gave him a solemn look. "I’m very sorry to hear that he ate it."

Stede took a moment to really hear what Ed had said, then laughed so loudly he startled himself. Ed innocently sipped his champagne.

"Thank you for your condolences."

"You're welcome, mate."

As they drank, Stede’s gaze slid down to Ed’s heels. "Do your feet get tired?"

"Yeah, but you’ve gotta wear the heels if you wanna wear the skirt."

"The skirt looks magnificent."

"I know," Ed said, and Stede’s crush blossomed into something that felt suspiciously like love.

Stede staved off panicking by looking futilely around his pod for extra space. "You could join me? Have a rest?"

Ed smiled. "Not very professional."

"You did just congratulate me on the death of my father."

"Hey, you’re the guy going on a jolly to celebrate! I should let you get some sleep anyway, you didn't pay for a bed not to use it."

"I don't know that I'm tired now." That was unfortunate phrasing, or so Ed’s quirked lips told him. "I don't want to keep you if you're busy."

"Not for a while, not when there’s one customer. Hey, I’ve got an idea."

"Oh?"

Ed walked around to the adjoining pod and fiddled with the shared privacy divider until it lowered completely.

"That is an excellent idea," Stede said as Ed stretched out scant inches away on his own seat-bed.

"I only have excellent ideas." Ed pulled off his heels and gave his equally manicured toes a wiggle in their translucent tights.

Stede tried and failed not to boggle at his lovely feet. "Are those… more spiders?"

"And yet somehow I'm still scared of them."

Stede resisted asking more questions while Ed tapped their glasses together in a toast. Their clinking sounded like a wake-up call.

"God, I’m so sorry!" Stede blurted out.

Ed glanced at him as he covered himself with another woollen blanket. "For what?"

"Here you are, just trying to do your job and I'm-"

"I’m flirting with you, babe."

Babe. Babe? Babe.

Stede set his champagne on his little table to keep from dropping it. "Are you?"

"Yep."

"You really don’t have to do that."

"I’m aware."

"You want to flirt with me?"

Ed reached into Stede’s pod to take hold of his hand. "I said cheerio, didn’t I?"

"You did, why did you do that?"

"It’s a thing stewards do when they’ve found Bob."

It was possible Stede had drunk too much. "I’m called Stede."

"You’re still Bob: the best on board."

"In fairness, I’m the only person on board."

"Even if you weren’t, you’d still be Bob," Ed said decisively.

"Oh, well, thank you."

"Welcome, now pass me the popcorn if you're not gonna finish it."

They carried on holding hands while Ed munched his snack. Stede was reminded of the way otters held onto one another to stop drifting apart in their sleep, though he kept the insane thought to himself.

Ed laughed quietly, looking even more beautiful with his champagne-smudged lipstick.

"What is it?" Stede said with a quizzical smile.

"I dunno, something about holding hands like this makes me think of otters."

Stede clutched his hand. "Would you believe me if I said that's exactly what I was thinking?"

Ed studied him for a moment with fond, crinkled eyes. "Yes."

Ed told him about a pair of otters at London Zoo who had their own slide that they used to do tricks while clamouring for their breakfasts. Stede told him about the monkeys that would try and steal his food on the rare occasions he ate outside in Bridgetown. Ed told him about the egg naan rolls they sold at a restaurant chain called Dishoom and how anyone who claimed they didn't like them just didn't enjoy fun. Stede told him that he didn't normally have a lot of fun but he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that this was the most fun he'd ever had. The way Ed squeezed his hand told him the feeling was mutual.

They had fallen into quite possibly the first companionable silence of Stede's life when Ed nodded at the clock on the television screen. "Merry Monday, by the way."

Stede grinned. "Ah yes, merry Monday. Do you have any plans after we land?"

They were still holding hands, Stede realised. He let his thumb trace Ed’s spider.

"Dishoom’ll be closed but there’s this Indian takeaway down the road from mine that always stays open so knowing me, I’m gonna get way more food than I can possibly eat to gorge myself on from the comfort of my own bed."

"That sounds brilliant."

"What about you?"

Good question. "I, um… Well, that is to say…"

Ed smiled and shook his head. "You didn’t even book a hotel."

"I was planning to do that when I arrived."

"You’re an absolute lunatic."

"I brought nothing but an empty briefcase on a transatlantic flight; I can't argue that."

"Speaking of arrival, it's almost time for brekkie."

Was it? How was it? Stede’s heart sank when he checked the time and saw that Ed was right, of course.

"I should get my heels back on," Ed said.

"Before you do that."

"You wanna try them?" Ed peered at his feet. "They’d probably fit you."

"Perhaps another time? It's just… You told me to ask for what I really want."

Ed moved closer. "Yeah? And what is it that you want?"

"No kippers, just buttery scrambled eggs please. I really, really hate kippers." Ed snorted with laughter. "What's so funny about that?"

"I thought you were asking for a quickie in the toilet."

"Wow, do people do that?"

"Course they do."

"Why? Is it fun?" Stede said.

"Depends whether you like accidentally turning a hand drier on with your arse."

"I think I’ve had enough air blowing on me for one day."

"That's all you want then, no kippers?"

Was it? Based on the way Ed was leaning towards him, Stede suspected that they both had other, very similar ideas in mind.

"A kiss would be lovely as well. A kiss and no kippers, plea-"

Ed cut him off with precisely that. Stede let go of his hand so he could carefully stroke Ed's hair in its beautiful bun before cupping his equally lovely cheek. He flattered himself that Ed pressed back into the touch.

Ed made a pleased little noise when they separated. "Tea? Coffee?"

"Can I help you with breakfast?"

"Not without triggering several alarms."

"Right. Tea would be great, thank you. Milk, no sugar."

"Madman. Tea with no sugar and eggs with no kippers, coming up." Ed patted his arm then slipped his heels back on with a quiet grumble.

Stede was still smiling like the happiest man alive (which he suspected he was) when Ed returned with a tray weighed down by a veritable mountain of scrambled eggs and toast, tea, tiny salt and pepper shakers, cutlery and…

"What's this?" Stede asked as he picked up an artfully crumpled napkin.

"Tried to make it into a spider but then I remembered I don't know origami so I panicked and made it into a rose instead."

Stede beamed. "It's perfect, thank you."

"Also ate some of your eggs on my way down here, I'm pretty hungry after all that talking." Ed wagged a finger at him. "Don't apologise or I'll eat more."

Stede offered another spoonful to Ed regardless. He somehow kept from whimpering when Ed sat back down beside him and ate the egg off the proffered spoon rather than take it himself. They made short work of the rest, Stede tucking in with a tablespoon while Ed used the teaspoon, despite Stede's countless offers to swap.

"Gotta go do my landing lips before final checks," Ed said when they'd all but licked the plate clean.

"Landing lips?"

"Exactly what it sounds like. Need to be ready for when we're back on the tarmac, there’s this fella I wanna impress."

Stede wasn't sure why he was surprised to hear that they wouldn't be living in the sky forever but it was still disappointing to learn.

"Want another kiss before I go make myself perfect?" Ed said.

"You're already perfect."

Ed wrapped his arms around Stede's neck and kissed him again. Stede held him tight, though he wasn't sure if it was to keep Ed from tumbling into his own pod or to pull him into his lap where he belonged.

"Back in a minute," Ed insisted when they parted, punctuating the words with a final, lingering kiss.

Stede did his best not to feel glum as he changed back into his terrible suit while waiting for Ed to return looking even more perfect than perfect. Stede did his best not to feel miserable, despite knowing that he was about to come back down to earth with a bump. He kept himself busy by formulating thank yous and farewells as they came smoothly to a halt on the runway.

"Stede," Ed announced in his gorgeous rumbling voice, "Welcome to London Heathrow Airport. The local time is nine fifty two AM and it's cold and miserable because it's fucking England."

Stede didn't need a window seat to know Ed was right.

"For your safety and comfort, please remain seated with your seatbelt fastened until the captain turns off the fasten seatbelt sign. You can turn your phone back on now. Please remember to take your reading glasses with you, they're in the cubby by your left knee."

"So they are, thank you," Stede said as he tucked them into one gloomy pocket.

"You’re welcome. On behalf of Ranger Airways and the entire crew, I'd like to thank you for joining us and I look forward to seeing you back at my flat, wearing a pair of my old pyjamas while we eat way too much lamb bhuna and watch When Harry Met Sally." Ed grinned at Stede's stunned look. "Now you can clap."

Conveniently, there was nothing Stede wanted more.