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Ptolemy, despite his unwavering rivalry with his cousin, had the grace to invite the trio on a vacation to Mexico. A much needed break, he called it. Ze was sure Mason had a role in persuading him; that, or Ptolemy just wanted Moe there and knew she wouldn’t go without the other two.
The plane was a small thing, having a 2-3 configuration — an aisle of two seats on the right, and an aisle of three on the left. Luckily, Ze had a window seat in the furthest back row, so there was some semblance of privacy.
Unfortunately, that’s where his luck ran out; his seat was on the two-seated side, with Regect no less. If he could’ve, he would’ve rather been with the luggage.
Or in the airplane’s bathroom. Or strapped onto the wing.
It had only been about a fourth of the way through the flight — about an hour through — but Ze was already contemplating opening the aircraft’s door and bringing the whole cabin down with him.
Snuggled beneath a blanket too big for even himself, Regect aimlessly swiped at his screen. “Dude, these movies fuckin’ suck.”
“You’re just a hater.”
“Okay, alright, you’re tellin’ me that you’re watching, fuckin’— The Goonies?”
Ze snorted. “Yeah, actually, I am, ‘cause it reminds me of you.”
“Oh, yeah, fuck you.” He leaned back, the beginning of a penguin documentary playing on his screen. His concentration lasted for about thirty seconds. “I’m bored.”
“Maybe, it’s ‘cause you’re watching a fucking documentary—”
“Oh, yeah, okay, just say you don’t care about the penguins—”
“—instead of something, like, good. Watch something normal, sleep, play some of those—those games they got, chess or somethin’.”
“I’m not tired, asshole. And only dickholes play chess.”
“Open the window and jump out then, I don’t fuckin’ know.”
“Fuck you.”
Ze rolled his eyes and kept watching his movie. Crazy Rich Asians, of course — who would he be if he didn’t watch that on a flight?
“Ze!” Regect tapped his finger on Ze’s screen, pausing the movie. “You’re such a dick. Moe would’ve talked to me—”
“Fuck you, you think I wanna sit with your whiny bitchass?”
“—and she’d probably give me the window seat, unlike your greedy ass—”
“Wh— I can’t choose what seat I’m assigned to, asshole. Plus, I paid for the damn flight!”
“Oh, so now you’re manipulating me with your money. Okay, great, great.”
“The fuck—”
“Excuse me,” the flight attendant interrupted, forcing Ze to lower his fist. “Would you like a drink?” They gestured towards the cart, smiling politely. “We have coffee, juice, soda, water…”
“Sorry, sorry…Could I—”
“Could I get, uh… orange juice?” Regect interjected.
Ze narrowed his eyes, elbowing him as soon as the flight attendant turned around. “Asshole,” he murmured.
“Here you go,” the attendant said, handing the cup to Regect’s outstretched hands. “And for you, sir?”
“Could I—”
“Sorry, could I just— could I get a napkin?”
Ze had to bite the inside of his lip to refrain from strangling the guy.
“Here you are, sir. And what would you like?”
“…Cou—”
“Sorry, could I—”
“Shut the fuck up!”
Ze instantly regretted it. A few passengers turned their heads, and all he could do was try to cower behind the entity. It didn’t do anything, but it was worth a try.
“Sorry, sorry,” Regect whispered to the onlookers, patting Ze’s head. “He’s a—a little scared, y’know, it’s his first flight and all, and… he was actually crying before–”
Ze clamped a hand over his face before he could get another word out. “…Could I just get a water, please?”
Somehow, the attendant’s customer-service smile hadn’t wavered. “Of course, sir, here you are.”
“Thanks.”
The attendant wheeled off and the other passengers had released their attention on him, so he let his hand drop and leaned back into his seat.
Regect snickered. “…Y’know that’s, like, piss water, right? They get that shit from the toilets.”
“Shut the fuck up,” he reiterated, quieter this time.
“Okay, freak.”
“Asshole.”
“Bitch.”
“Dipshit.”
“Asshole.”
Ze scoffed. “I already said asshole, asshole.”
“Well, guess what?”
“Chicken—”
“Chicken butt, I said it first, fuck you—”
“—butt. Okay, yeah, whatever.”
Ze downed his water, crumpling the cup and shoving it into his seat’s pocket. He resumed his watching — it was the wedding scene, and Nick’s mother was confronting Rachel, which always required his full attention—and he enjoyed a full five minutes of peace.
Until Regect opened his mouth again.
“Ze… I’m sorry, okay? C’mon, I’m bored. Let’s do something.”
“Well, I’m busy, so you can go fuck yourself.”
Regect humphed and poked his forearm. “Ze.”
He acted like he didn’t hear.
“Ze…”
The movie was getting real good.
“Ze?”
“Holy shit, what do—”
It felt like the plane hit a bump, because it shook and startled the words out of his mouth. Suddenly, he was clutching the nearest thing — it just so happened to be Regect’s arm — with his eyes shut and his chest heaving.
“Jesus Christ—”
“Dude,” Regect snickered, “are you— are you scared?”
“Shut up!” Ze snapped, but his bite flipped into alarm when he felt the plane dip.
“Oh my God, you are scared. Aw, don’t cry,” he cooed demeaningly, stroking his hair. “Y’know, the reason you always see plane crashes on the news is ‘cause they’re so rare, that—”
“Shut up, shut the fuck up. Do not talk about plane crashes, you ass!” Another shake. “Fuck— just— just talk about something else—”
“Oh, no, no, don’t be scared. I’m right here.” The glee in his voice was nearly palpable, but there were bigger things to focus on.
Like how the pilot was speaking over the intercom.
“We have turned on the seatbelt sign and asked the flight attendants to remain seated for the time being. We are experiencing a bit of rough air, so we ask that you remain seated and fasten your seatbelts.”
“Yeah, just some ‘rough air,’ Ze. Nothin’ to worry about.” His hand drifted to the armrest, lifting it to bring Ze closer.
“Shut—” The plane dipped again, making him hug Regect’s arm like it’d save him in a crash.
Regect stifled a laugh as he spread his blanket to rest atop both their laps. “So rude. Y’know, I’m actually— I’m tryna help you?”
“No, you’re fucking not—”
“Yeah, I am, and you’re just— you keep insulting me. Keep doing that, I’m gonna start talkin’ about—”
“Okay, okay. I—I get it, I’m… sorry, I guess. Just—” He shuffled closer, adjusting to cradle the entity’s upper arm. His cheek was squished between the arm and the backrest of the seat — probably acne-inducing, but he didn’t care much for that right now.
“Aw, poor you.” His hand, now free to move, patted Ze’s thigh. “Poor Ze,” he repeated, loosening Ze’s seatbelt to a concerning degree.
“Don’t—” He interrupted himself with a small groan. Regect’s hand was on his lap now, moving in light strokes.
His eye curved in what could only be a shit-eating grin. “What was that? Didn’t hear you.”
“What are—”
“You want a distraction, huh?” Regect hummed, pressing his palm down. “Just tryna help. Something wrong?”
“Regect— mmh— people’re gonna see—”
“I dunno what you’re talking about.” He slipped past the waistband of his sweatpants. “See what?”
“You—” A whimper threatened to slip past his lips. “Fuck you,” he mumbled, holding the entity’s arm tighter.
He paused. “Say that again?”
“…Sorry…”
“That’s what I thought.”
Ze pressed his forehead against Regect’s shoulder, biting his lip to prevent any sounds from escaping as that damned hand slid into his boxers. His thumb rubbed against the tip, spreading the gathering pre-cum around.
“Shit—” He stiffened as Regect began pumping his hand up and down, painfully slowly.
“What’s wrong?”
Ze didn’t dare risk opening his mouth. That only worked against him as Regect tightened his hold, forcing a gasp that was too loud out of his mouth. “Regect, I— fuck, I swear to God if we get caught—”
“We’re not doing anything, are we?” Ze could feel his face pressing itself into the crown of his head. “But if we do get in trouble, that’s ‘cause you’re being too noisy.”
A subtle shake of the cabin nearly brought that feeling of doom back to Ze’s chest, but a different kind of panic overpowered that as Regect’s hand increased in speed. Even with the blanket, it was so obvious what they were doing. At this point, the turbulence itself was his savior, the only thing preventing someone from getting up and noticing.
“Fuck, mngh— hah, Regect—” Ze’s breath was getting shallower, and he was constantly forcing down whimpers and whines with dry swallows.
“Oh,” Regect crooned, holding Ze’s head closer to his shoulder with his other hand, “poor Ze.”
“Hmnh—” His eyes shot open—that was too loud and too obscene to be normal.
But Regect was unrelenting; he didn’t falter, almost like he didn’t care. It was like he was trying to get them both ejected from the plane.
“Shhh…” In between stifled moans, Ze heard him whisper. “You can take it.”
He wanted to trust that, but he couldn’t stop trembling. And, despite the usually cool air of the cabin, there was sweat trickling down his neck, his forehead, his cheeks — he could feel hair sticking to his skin until Regect ceremoniously swiped them away. No doubt his face was flushed, and no way would he be able to play it off as turbulence anxiety.
It was even worse now, because Regect was focusing on the tip of his dick. In a hold that was too good for how gentle it was, Regect was stroking the head, massaging the underside, and barely hiding his enjoyment at Ze’s steadily deteriorating composure.
Then Regect’s hand anchored at the base; Ze could tell, in that split-second of motionlessness, that it was over for him.
Regect leaned down.
“Wait, waitwaitwait—”
He paused, looking up with a mix of delight and perversity in his eye. “What is it?” His tone was so casual, so calm, like they weren’t one fleeting look away from getting put on the no-fly list.
“Are you fucking—” Ze’s eyes darted around as if they were caught already. “That’s the— we’re gonna—”
“Relax, Ze.” The bastard laughed. “Just say I’m… sleeping, or whatever.”
“In my fucking lap?”
Regect only responded by pulling the blanket over his head and going all the way down.
“Fuck—” Ze smacked a hand over his mouth as soon as it left his mouth. He could feel Regect’s tongue swirling around, and God, it was so over.
And, just his luck, the person in front of him decided to turn around.
“Are you okay, sir? I keep hearing your crying, and I—”
“I— I’m fine!” He forced a grin — too wide, but he feared letting it drop. “Just— yeah, I— fuck— I mean— he’s— he’s sleeping.”
“…Okay, sir.” They turned back around; Ze didn’t know how he got away with that.
He let his smile fall, biting his lip and internally cursing at every whimper that slipped through his teeth. Regect, being the fucker he was, had laughed at his poor attempt of poise; the vibrations prickled Ze’s skin.
Ze scowled. “I’m gonna fucking— mmh— kill you—”
The person in front of him turned around again. “Sorry, sir, I—”
“Not you!”
“…Sorry.”
They left him alone—hopefully for good but probably not, because Regect had wrapped his lips around the tip and staying quiet was becoming an impossible mission. There was nowhere for Ze to hide; even Regect’s shoulder hadn’t provided enough obscurity, and now that the bastard was underneath the blanket and sucking him off, Ze felt more exposed than ever.
“Regect,” he hissed through clenched teeth, “you’re such a— hah— bitch— fuck!”
Ze only realized he fucked up when Regect took more into his mouth. “Oh, God—”
To say he turned into a mess would be a disgusting understatement. His body was shuddering, jolting with every bob of Regect’s head, and everything felt so impossibly hot. Try as he might, it was getting harder and harder to not let himself fall into the feeling of Regect’s tongue rubbing along his dick.
Ze tried to focus on Crazy Rich Asians. He tried looking out the window and taking in the view, tried shutting his eyes and putting all his effort into shutting up, but he ultimately failed. Regect was cruel, because his hand was now moving in tandem with his head and Ze could feel himself approaching the edge of his limit.
“Shit… mngh!” His head was hung low, inhibition pushed to the back of his mind. “Regect, I— hah, please—”
His hips bucked upwards, breaths and curses ripping past his parted lips. The constant drone of the airplane engine was barely enough to conceal the sounds emitting from their row. The feeling of the plane shaking and dipping had become distant problems — the ding! of the seatbelt sign turning off didn’t even register — and he was so close, it was all that flooded his mind at this point.
And then Regect stopped.
Ze was left panting and still pent-up as Regect rose from underneath the blanket. The look in his eyes, something like triumph, was a stark opposite to Ze’s vexation.
“What… hah… the fuck?”
“It ended,” Regect chuckled, wiping stray saliva off his chin. “Told you I’d distract you, right?”
Ze hadn’t even noticed the suddenly smooth flight. “You— you can’t just…”
“What?” He cocked his head to the side. “What’d I—”
“You know damn well! You fucking—” He stopped himself, letting out a groan instead. “Come on.”
Ze pulled his pants up — he wasn’t about to risk someone seeing him in all his glory — and shoved the blanket to the floor, earning a cry of “my blanket!” from the other. He, albeit ungracefully, unbuckled both their seatbelts with haste and sent Regect to the aisle with a harsh push.
“Jesus, rude, much? I just—”
“Shut the hell up!” He clambered out of his seat, dragging Regect towards the lavatory behind their row. In his peripheral, he could see someone eyeing him, but his mind settled on they can go fuck themself rather than deliberation.
“This place smells like you,” Regect commented as he was pressed into the sink of the lavatory.
Ze scowled, locking the door. “You need to shut the fuck up.”
Admittedly, it smelled exactly how one would expect. It had the spaciousness of a closet that could fit only three outfits, too. But Ze, exasperated from the countless times Regect had annoyed him within less than two hours, couldn’t find it in himself to care.
“So,” Regect’s voice lilted, “what’s up?”
They made eye contact through the bathroom mirror, Regect looking unworried and Ze glaring like he had robbed him blind — which, in a way, he had. Ze slammed the toilet lid shut with his foot and pointed to it with a menacing “sit.”
With some struggle, Regect complied; he was kneeling atop the lid, eye brimming with glee as if this was what he wanted all along. Ze wanted nothing more than to rip away the smugness exuding from the son of a bitch. He tugged his pants down, along with his boxers, just enough for his half-hard erection to come back out.
Regect, with an amused snicker, took it in his hand. “God, you’re impatient.” He shut himself up by easing Ze’s dick into his mouth.
Ze nearly let himself submit to whatever Regect would do, but he caught himself. He was not about to let himself be practically tortured once more. Regect stared up at him, tongue teasing his length, as if daring him to do something.
So, Ze grabbed the back of his head and forced Regect to take all of him in.
“Hngh—”
Regect moaned. His eye glossed over — for the first time, he looked caught by surprise, a look that Ze shared.
His shock dissipated; anger remained, of course, but something irrational began bubbling. He expected a gag at most, but a moan did more to fuel his lust-ridden mind.
“What, you like that?” He curled his fingers harder.
Regect, unable to talk for obvious reasons, could only strain his eye to look up. Ze wasn’t about to let this opportunity slip away from him. His hips pulled back slightly, only to thrust forward once more, and Regect looked so desperate for it and it felt so good that he had to do it again, and again, and again.
They fell into a rhythm, Ze practically fucking his mouth and Regect simultaneously bobbing his head. Sloppy, sure; loud, even more so. There was something about this newfound control that had Ze’s mind reeling with boldness.
“Fuck—” Regect’s hands were now digging into his hips, providing stability with every thrust. “You— hah, you can take it— mngh— can’t you?”
Regect’s eye, though watering with every gag, never left his face. He’d let out groans and whimpers every time he took all of Ze in and with every word that left Ze’s mouth.
“You’re so— hmnh— fucking dirty—” He grunted in between pants. “God— Regect, I— mmnh!”
Ze’s head tilted backwards, that familiar feeling rushing in. Regect must have been able to tell, too, because his hands pulled his hips in harder. Ze groaned, pleasure bucking his hips and sinking the other all the way down to the base. Regect pushed himself even closer still and let Ze spill into his mouth.
He only lifted off when Ze pulled back, not without leaving a final lick on the tip. “Jesus…” Regect rubbed his throat, his voice hoarse. “Didn’t know you could—”
“Just shut up.”
Ze, in the midst of pulling his clothes up, nearly fainted from horror when clarity returned.
They were still on the plane.
They were hogging the bathroom.
The walls are not soundproof.
“Oh God. Oh— oh my God.” He snapped to the mirror, grimacing at his flushed cheeks and damp forehead. “Shit!”
“What?” Regect pushed him over, running the sink and rinsing his own face.
Ze shoved his shoulder. “You— you bitch, this is all your fault!”
“What the hell?” Seeing the stress wrinkling Ze’s face, he still didn’t get it. “What, do you— do you die in ten minutes if you cum down someone’s throat?”
“No, you idiot, we—” He paused, taking a breath and lowering his volume. “We’re on a plane, dumbass, and we’re in the bathroom!”
“Yeah, we’re in the bathroom, so?”
“Everybody probably fuckin’ heard! Oh God, we’re— we’re getting banned.” If there was enough room in the lavatory, Ze would be pacing around in distress. “That’s just it, it’s so over—”
“Calm down, dude, good Lord.” Regect snickered, patting his back. “Yeah, you were… you were a bit loud, but… it’s fine. Maybe. Look!”
“No, no, nononono—”
Regect unlocked the door, pushing it open as if it were a hair in his face. “See—”
What met them was a line of people, fidgeting in place as they practically stabbed the two with their glares.
“Are you trying to crash the plane?” The first person snapped.
The second person frowned. “I wish the plane would crash.”
“…I—” Ze met the gaze of the third person. “Moe! I— Listen, we—”
She only gave an agitated honk, waving them forward to let the others actually use the toilet.
The first person shoved through them, shutting the door like it personally vindicated them. “God, it smells like gooch in here.”
“That’s how bathrooms usually smell, asshole!” Regect retorted. He grabbed Ze’s hand and ushered them back to their row, not before flipping off the rest of the line, save for Moe.
“So, how was your flight?”
Mason’s voice crackled through the phone, the view behind him being a crystal blue pool.
Ze looked away. “Uh…”
Moe’s honks interrupted before he could lie, describing in detail what she had heard. And, God, did it sound bad from her point of view.
“Really, guys?” Mason groaned. “That’s, like, the third time, already.”