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If there was something that Stephen Percy Harris openly disliked was flying. He had never particularly appreciated that way of travelling, but he had to admit that it was indeed such a quick way to cross the world, so he couldn’t really protest and travel by train or by bus if they had to go to different countries.
Especially overseas.
It was physically impossible and Steve was well-aware of it.
The idea of being stuck in a flying box too far away from the dry land never failed to make him sick. It was such an unnecessary anxiety and he knew it, but at the same time he had no idea how to cope with that nonsensical fear.
It wasn’t like he did it on purpose. He wished he could get rid of it and enjoy the travel, but no. He simply couldn’t do it.
He couldn’t help himself no matter how hard he tried.
The only thing that made him feel a bit better was knowing that Bruce was the pilot, because he trusted him and he knew that Dickinson would keep them safe.
Which was a lot.
On one hand, it was indeed a positive thing because Steve was perfectly aware of how much Bruce adored flying, planes and everything in between. Their singer was a walking encyclopaedia, he liked dropping random details and pieces of information whenever he got the chance, and since usually he got too excited about it, it was basically impossible to make him stop yapping.
That genuine enthusiasm never failed to amuse Steve, who had to admit that it had helped him feel more comfortable because he actually liked listening to Bruce and following his technical ramblings.
Not only had he absorbed unnecessary details, but at the same time he had indirectly learned about the whole flying concept and it had turned less scary, in a way.
That was surely a great outcome.
Unfortunately, there was a negative part, and it was pretty simple: Steve wasn’t really proud of himself because he disliked not being able to be with Bruce if he was busy piloting, which was clearly understandable of course.
They had been together for a while now, and of course he could stay away from him, it wasn’t like they had to stay glued to each other all the time. Quite honestly, the idea was too much for him and he didn’t want it to happen, as they were still two individuals with their stuff to do. Moreover, they were lucky that they could spend a lot of time together while touring, and from time to time he could stay alone for a little while.
Sure, he appreciated Bruce’s presence next to him, and he liked spending time with him, yet he didn’t need to share the same air with him every single day. They had already spent weeks, even a couple of months, apart and none of them had died because of that.
Yet… Bruce was the only person he trusted when it came to his fears. Bruce had offered him to show him the plane beforehand, repeating to him that they were safe and he didn’t have to be scared.
Steve had appreciated the offer, but it hadn’t been enough, sadly.
He wanted to believe that. He knew that planes were secure, but his anxiety didn’t let him go, it kept staying there, gnawing him from the inside, forming an unpleasant knot in his stomach and he hated how fear could destroy him and make him this nervous.
Part of him wished that Bruce could pilot that infernal thing and sit with him, talking to him at the same time, but it was clearly impossible and there was no way that such a specific thing could happen.
With a sigh, Steve tried to make himself comfortable. He could use some sleep, he really needed it and hopefully, if he were unconscious, his anxiety wouldn’t disturb him.
He didn’t want to have high hopes about it, but he could give it a try. Bruce had told him to relax, but he wasn’t sure how to accomplish it, honestly.
Yet, being the stubborn person he was, Steve Harris wasn’t going to give up that easily, even if drops of nervous sweat were slowly wetting the collar of his t-shirt, as a confirmation of his own status.
~~~
It turned out, Steve had indeed fallen asleep in the meantime, although a part of his brain was still awake and kept noticing every turbulence of the aircraft.
The result was that he hadn’t been able to properly rest like he had hoped, but at least he had been able to distract himself a little bit, which counted like a solid win in Steve’s opinion.
His stomach was contracted, but that was another unnecessary detail that Steve wanted to forget as soon as possible. The idea of throwing up didn’t sound exciting at all.
“’Arry!”
The bassist mumbled something incoherent, then he opened his eyes and the first thing he saw was the wide smile on Nicko’s face “Good mornin’, Sleepin’ Beauty” he joked as usual.
“Git” Steve yawned as he sat more comfortably “W-Where are we?” he asked, still too confused about the whole thing. He had hoped to wake up directly on the ground, but judging by the white clouds he was seeing through the window, well, they were still flying.
“Still somewhere around the globe” was the practical answer the drummer gave him “You okay?”
“’m alive” Steve blurted “Not happy to be here, but it’s not like I can change this” he shrugged as he realised that his comfort person was still busy piloting and couldn’t join him yet “I can survive” he half-lied, not knowing if he could handle the rest of the flight in those conditions.
How long would it take? He had no idea. Moreover, he didn’t know for how long he had napped, and quite honestly, he didn’t even want to know it because he was already overthinking too much.
Pretending was the only solution at the moment, and Steve hoped that his face wouldn’t betray him, as he didn’t really want to be seen as a weak person. He didn’t want to talk about it to someone who wasn’t Bruce.
Sure, he adored Nicko and he loved him so much, he was such a good friend, too. Yet, Steve wasn’t ready to express his fears out loud to someone like him.
“That’s great” Nicko’s expression softened, his eyes were filled with genuine affection “I know you’re not a big fan of this” he said as he pointed at his back with his thumb “Our captain asked me to check on you” he added with a wink and then openly laughed at Steve’s reaction.
The bassist’s cheeks had turned bright red.
Of course, Bruce did it, that bastard.
~~~
The hotel room was pretty anonymous, it wasn’t big nor too small, it was just an average one, but Steve wasn’t going to complain at all. It had everything he needed, and that was more than enough.
The most important thing to him was that he was back on the land and he wasn’t between the clouds anymore, and this was all he needed at the moment.
Except for Bruce.
He kind of wished to see him and just hear his voice would make him feel better, as the vocalist would surely give him a detailed review of how amazing it had felt piloting that metallic bird and he wanted to listen to those comments, as he genuinely liked to see how enthusiastic Bruce was whenever he got the chance to play with one of his favourite toys.
The only problem was that Steve had no idea where Bruce was. They hadn’t had the chance to talk after landing, and he was now there at the hotel with the others.
Quite honestly, Steve didn’t want to meet them now.
Nothing personal, of course.
Part of him was willing to take another quick nap. They still had a couple of hours of free time before getting ready for the gig, and Steve kind of wanted to decompress a little bit after the flight.
It hadn’t been that turbulent, even for his standards, yet Steve hadn’t liked it at all.
He hated it so much.
His whole body was still protesting, the discomfort he had felt for the whole time was there again and it wasn’t pleasant, as it hadn’t stopped bothering him even for a second.
Which was unfair.
It was such a pain in the arse.
The bassist yawned, and without even removing his shoes, he lied down on the bed and pressed his face on the soft pillow.
He wanted to forget everything for a second, he felt suddenly too exhausted to function and Steve fell asleep in no time, finally calmer.
~~~
There was a pleasantly warm presence next to him, and something – most likely a hand – was distractedly playing with one of his wavy locks, gently twisting it between his fingers.
A perfectly familiar situation.
The second thing Steve noticed was that his feet felt surprisingly free, and it took him a couple of seconds to understand that the same person who was playing with his hair had also removed his shoes to make him feel more comfortable during his nap.
Sweet.
“Welcome back” Bruce’s statement was meant to be said with a mocking tone, but contrary to his own expectation, it sounded too soft and full of tenderness instead.
Steve didn’t reply, with his eyes closed he made an attempt to reach Bruce, and thankfully for him, the singer was right next to him. It didn’t take him too long, and in less than a second, Steve was exactly where he wanted to be.
His forehead was pressed against the soft fabric of Bruce’s shirt, the chin of the singer was right above his head and that was more than enough for him.
He could finally decompress in a decent way.
“Are you okay?” this time, a light concern echoed in Bruce’s voice “Wasn’t it too bad, was it?” he asked, knowing that he didn’t have to be specific and Steve himself knew what he was referring to.
“Mh” Steve’s muffled response didn’t satisfy the singer, who gently cupped his cheek and brushed his thumb on it “I’m willing to receive a verbal reply” he tried to joke “Are you okay, love?”
Despite the fact that they had been together for a couple of years now, Steve wasn’t fully accustomed to pet names and Bruce, obviously, liked to call him in a tender way when nobody could hear them. It rarely happened because they hardly had enough privacy, yet Bruce managed to do it and it never failed to make Steve blush.
Cheeky bastard.
“’m good” Steve managed to vocalise, his eyelids were incredibly heavy and for once he didn’t want to think that they had to play that night. Thankfully, they still had time and he could recover from the previous discomfort.
Luckily for him, Bruce was there.
Finally.
“How did you get in here?” Steve furrowed his eyebrows, his eyes were still closed. A little pout curled his lips as he realised that nobody had given Bruce the spare key to his room, since he hadn’t seen him since the moment he left him alone to go to the cockpit.
“You forgot to lock the door” was the laconic answer Bruce gave him, and the bassist could clearly hear the amusement in his voice. He could easily bet that Bruce had indeed laughed at him, but he couldn’t really get mad because of that.
It had been his own mistake.
“Shit” Steve covered his face with a hand “I didn’t realise that”
“I’m glad you did” Bruce replied softly, his hand had found its way to grab again one of his long locks with his fingers “At least I managed to join you” he said “And I didn’t have to find a funny way to explain why I needed to come here and not in my own room” he snorted before placing a little peck on the top of Steve’s head.
“Mh” Steve nodded again, and sighed “’m happy you’re here” then he moved his hand so he could place it on Bruce’s hip instead.
It didn’t last long, as after a couple of seconds he moved it forward so he could place his whole arm around Bruce’s waist in a sort of a half-hug.
Another satisfied hum followed as a second kiss was placed on his hair.
“You missed me!” Bruce teased, genuinely relieved to see that the bassist didn’t look that much drained after the flight.
It was definitely a wonderful outcome.
“What if I did?” Steve protested “We are together, I can miss you if I want” he scoffed, then he widened his eyes in disbelief as he realised what he had just said.
It wasn’t like he had never said anything sweet to the other man, yet it wasn’t something he did regularly, as it wasn’t exactly his thing, and he preferred showing him that he cared through actions instead.
Judging by the huge smile that was decorating Bruce’s face, it seemed that he had appreciated hearing his last statement.
That smile didn’t disappear when Bruce leaned forward and kissed him, slowly. The singer took his time, savouring his mouth, only to press a couple of gentle pecks on Steve’s soft lips right after that.
“I should fly you around more often if you end up being soft and cuddly” Bruce tried, his hand was still buried in Steve’s long, wavy hair “What do you think?” he teased, knowing that Steve wouldn’t allow him to do such a thing, and obviously he wasn’t going to force him to do it.
It was just a little joke that wasn’t meant to hurt him, of course.
“You’re an arse” Steve complained, or at least he tried to be mad, but his attempt failed because there was such a serene expression on his face and he couldn’t do anything to hide it.
“You chose me” Bruce wiggled his eyebrows and openly laughed at Steve, who had just rolled his eyes in such a comical way “Don’t remind me that, thank you” he blurted, but he was smiling nevertheless.
“Don’t be so rude, ‘Arry” Bruce pressed his pointer finger on the tip of Steve’s nose a couple of times, adoring the view that he got afterwards: the funny facial expression that was so typical of him.
The fact that the bassist was able to embrace his dork side meant that he was definitely feeling better than before, and the worst part was over.
Another kiss, short and sweet.
Steve had closed his eyes, enjoying the caresses Bruce was currently offering. He had no idea for how long he could stay like that, but part of him hoped that nothing would interrupt them.
At least for half an hour.
It was all he asked.
Thirty minutes with Bruce, just them, in a hotel room. The rest of the world could wait a bit more, nobody was going to perish if they spent a couple of minutes in the intimacy of that anonymous place.
Bruce was surprisingly quieter than usual, he was lying next to him, offering a silent solace and Steve appreciated it. The knot inside his stomach had started fading away, his body was slowly relaxing and his back wasn’t tense anymore.
Little did he know that Nicko had kept Bruce posted all along, informing him about his mood and how pale he had looked the whole time because it had been Bruce himself the one asking his friend that little favour.
Steve leaned his head towards again and smiled when he felt the perfectly familiar hand that belonged to Bruce cupping his cheek again, his thumb brushing his cheekbone.
That soft caress removed any residual of his previous unease.
Maybe Bruce wasn’t wrong. Flying wasn’t that bad if he had the chance to spend some quality time with the captain after that torture.
He could accept that, yes.