Fic: Tray Tables and Seatbelt Signs 1/2
Title: Tray Tables and Seatbelt Signs
Author: demonllama1
Universe: AU
Rating: NC-17
Relationship status: first time
Word count: 10,440
Genre: humour, romance, fluff
Warning: Language, graphic sex, fluff.
A/N: Based on this prompt. There is lots of McCoy/Jim friendship in this but it’s all platonic. AU’s are my crack if you hadn’t already noticed. ;) Knowledge of airport codes will be handy.
Summary: Modern Day AU. Jim is an annoying airplane passenger; Spock is a hot flight attendant.
Flight 68: MIA to LAX
Jim sighs and taps his boarding pass against his lip as he stares at the board with red letters displayed. He then starts tapping his feet impatiently against the soft floor of the departure lounge as he glances around at the other passengers sitting at the gate.
“Would you stop that?” McCoy, his colleague and friend, mutters from where he’s sitting next to him, a book open in his hands.
“Sorry. Just bored.”
“You’re acting like an infant. If you’re bored now, how you going to handle the six hour flight? Don’t make me slip you something in your drink. Again.”
Jim glances at him with an apologetic smile. “Someone’s cranky. Are you afraid of the big, bad plane?”
McCoy huffs loudly and lets his book flop onto his lap. “Flying is not natural. Humans aren’t made for it.”
“Yeah, yeah. Ok, I’m going to go flirt with the guy at the gate to see if he’ll upgrade us.”
McCoy picks his book back up. “Has that ever worked?”
“Couple times.” Jim stands up, grabs their boarding passes and rolls up the sleeves on his white button down shirt, exposing his forearms. He quickly rakes his fingers through his dark blond hair and strolls as casually as he can over to the gate desk where two check-in assistants are standing, one on the phone and the other typing away on the computer.
“Hi there,” Jim says with a charming smile as he places his arms on the counter top. The guy drags his eyes up and looks at Jim with disdain. Jim immediately realises he has to change his strategy. “I’m Jim. I’m currently sitting in 34A and,” Jim glances at the guy’s name tag, who is staring at him warily, “Gary, well, you see that gorgeous man over there reading a book with a sexy glower?”
Gary follows his eye line to where McCoy is sitting and nods. “Sure.”
“That’s my husband. We’ve just gotten married and he’s also afraid of flying, and I’m sure it would really help if we could celebrate the start of our honeymoon in first class.”
Gary sighs tiredly and looks down at his computer and starts tapping away. Jim lets out a hum as he waits but stops when Gary glances at him pointedly. Jim shoots him a flirtatious smile.
“The only seats I have in first aren’t together,” Gary says evenly.
“I’ll take them. Distance makes the heart grow fonder,” Jim says with a pleased grin.
Gary looks at him like he knows exactly what Jim is doing but can’t be bothered to call him on it. Instead he whips the two boarding passes out of Jim’s hand and replaces them with two new ones.
“Enjoy your flight,” Garry says, smiling briefly.
“Oh, Gary, I will,” Jim turns and swaggers back over to where McCoy is sitting, his eyes fixed on his book.
“Darling, I managed to get us two first class seats,” Jim says with a pleased grin. McCoy sits up and looks at him, surprise lighting up his dark features.
“Seriously?”
“Yep. I told them we’re a just married couple so if I grab your crotch you have to go with it.”
McCoy shoots him a dark look. “Go anywhere near my dick with your hand and I’ll cut it off, kid.”
“God, you’re so romantic,” Jim says dryly, a large smile on his face.
“I’m so glad I’m not sitting near you for six hours,” McCoy says, whipping his new boarding pass out of Jim’s hand and going back to his book.
…
Twenty minutes later and they’re boarding. McCoy mumbles about how ridiculous planes are and how much he hates them as they walk down the narrow aisle. Jim finds his seat two rows behind McCoy and is about to make himself comfortable when he decides that he’d rather be next to his friend for the flight, so he makes a deal with the pretty blonde sitting next to McCoy and manages to take her seat. McCoy looks at him like someone just punched his favourite puppy.
“Why Jim? I was looking forward to a quiet flight not being next to you.”
“Let’s not pretend I’m not your favourite.”
McCoy just looks at him like he hopes he gets sucked into the engine before turning and staring out of the window. Jim watches as more people fill the first class cabin, all of them doing battle with fitting their hand luggage in to the overhead bins. Jim snorts loudly when a man gets snapped at by a flight attendant for not checking his rather large baggage.
Jim then proceeds to spend ten minutes playing with the seat functions which causes a low buzzing noise to emanate every time he reclines his chair or gets the foot rest up. McCoy gives him a glare after the second time Jim hits the wrong button and causes the back of his chair to go flat quickly.
He’s looking down the aisle to where some of the flight attendants are busy in the galley when he sees him. A tall, thin, dark haired man who is standing elegantly, hands behind his back as he listens intently to a colleague. Jim’s struck by the guy’s intensity and the way his cheek bones stand in definition to his flawless pale skin. He’s dressed in smart black pants, a white shirt, and a little waistcoat.
“This flight just got interesting.”
“Uh huh,” McCoy says, not looking up from his book.
Jim nudges him in the side with his elbow. “Check out the hot flight attendant.”
McCoy sighs wearily and drags his eyes up to look. “Bit thin.”
“Yeah, but look at his arms in his cute little uniform. I bet he’d be good at holding me up against an airplane bathroom door as we fuck.”
McCoy snorts and goes back to his book.
Jim grabs some of the magazines on airplane safety and in-flight entertainment, and flicks through them as he waits for the flight attendants for the first class cabin to move about.
He’s in the middle of looking at some truly genius inventions in the SkyMall magazine when he feels a presence standing next to his seat.
“Can I get you a pre-take off beverage, sir?” Jim looks up and smiles when he meets the dark brown eyes of the flight attendant he’d been looking at.
“Whiskey,” McCoy barks, not looking up.
“Just some water for me, thanks,” Jim says as the steward busies himself with the cart and prepares the drink. “So, what’s your name?”
McCoy visibly sighs from beside him.
“Spock,” he replies in a monotone voice as he pours some water into a glass.
“Interesting name.”
“Thank you,” Spock replies as he passes the whiskey passed Jim and hands it to McCoy. He then hands Jim his glass of water.
“Glass instead of plastic? This is like sitting at the adult table or something.”
“Indeed,” Spock says, sounding bored.
Jim just smiles largely at him as his eyes take in his dark eyebrows and eyelashes, and the way his black, silky hair flops around his head awkwardly.
Just before Spock moves on he pauses and looks down at them. “I was informed you are both on your honeymoon. Congratulations.”
Jim bites his lip to stop himself from laughing at the complete lack of tone or inflection in the guy’s voice.
“Oh, we’ve decided to stay friends instead,” Jim says, not wanting Spock to think he’s taken.
Spock just looks at him, then flicks his eyes to McCoy, before nodding and moving past their row.
“That was smooth,” McCoy comments, turning the page before taking a long swig of whiskey.
“Oh trust me, I’ll have my thighs around his waist in the plane bathroom before you know it.”
“Sure,” McCoy says disbelievingly.
The plane slowly pushes back and Jim can feel McCoy slowly becoming tenser. The safety video comes on and McCoy gives it as much attention as he can short of actually taking notes. When it ends Jim shoots McCoy a smile before catching Spock’s attention as he walks by.
“Hi, excuse me.”
“Yes?” Spock says, his hands going behind his back as he falls into a casual stance.
“I have a few questions about the safety video you’ve just shown. At the end it said to speak to a flight attendant about any concerns so here I am.”
Spock’s eyes flash with something that’s close to an actual emotion for a moment. “What is your query?”
“Planes landing on water, does that even happen?”
“Yes, it does.”
Jim nods. “Ok, ok, well, how many people survive that sort of landing?”
“0.4%.”
“So, it’s pretty unlikely that we even need to know that stuff about how to slide down the big bouncy slides or how to blow a whistle on a lifevest when we’ll pretty much all die from the impact?”
McCoy’s hands stiffen on the arm rests and Jim sends out a silent apology.
“You do not need to concern yourself with that as we are flying over the continental USA.”
“Oh, yeah, good point. Thank you. You’ve really helped,” Jim says with an over the top wink. Spock gives him a borderline pissed off look before walking away.
“Did your poor attempts at hitting on someone have to include you pointing out the small odds of us surviving a plane crash?”
“Yeah, sorry about that. Didn’t really think it through.”
“Do you ever?”
…
The take off is smooth but McCoy sits rigid in his seat, hands gripping the arm rests tightly like he’s waiting for them to plummet to their death. Jim eats a small packet of pretzels loudly and gets a glare when he offers the bag to McCoy innocently, shaking it slightly.
By the time they even out, Jim’s finished his pretzels and he’s back to reading the SkyMall magazine whilst he waits for the in-flight entertainment to start in the form of the hot flight attendant, and also for the films to begin. McCoy slowly starts to relax as they level out and he picks up his book, flicking to the page he left off from.
Spock comes by and whips a menu out of his hand and hands it to Jim and then another to McCoy.
“Thank you so much,” Jim says loudly, grinning up at the stoic flight attendant.
Spock just moves on past their seats without a word.
“How do you ever get laid with those kind of flirting tactics?” McCoy asks under his breath as the seatbelt sign goes off with a loud ping.
“My blue eyes,” Jim says, fluttering his eyelashes for effect. “Also, I have a big penis.”
McCoy just sighs and looks down at the menu. “They’re pretty much just offering us chicken or pasta in posh sauces.”
“Oh the decisions,” Jim says, staring down at his own menu for a moment before looking down the aisle and seeing Spock move about in the small space between the first class cabin and the cockpit. Jim grins and presses the ‘call’ button on his arm rest.
“Can I help you?” a chipper, young stewardess asks, appearing next to his seat seemingly out of nowhere.
McCoy snorts next to him at his failed attempt to get Spock.
“Oh, sorry, I thought I had a question about the menu but it turns out that… I don’t. I’ll have the bowtie pasta, thank you.”
“Chicken for me,” McCoy says bluntly, his hand shooting out passed Jim to hand back the menu.
The girl smiles and walks off toward where Spock is still cluttering about.
“Damn. I didn’t look behind me before hitting that button.”
“Jim, are you actually going to dedicate this whole flight to getting laid?”
Jim blinks before a slow smile spreads across his face. “Yeah. Probably.”
McCoy nods and leans forward to grab at his bag, and pulls out some earphones. He places them in his ears to block Jim out. Jim shrugs and grabs at his TV which is stored under his seat. He pulls it out, adjusts it, and starts poking at the screen to view all the available entertainment.
He’s in the middle of some animated TV show he’s not paying attention to when he sees Spock start to head down his aisle. Jim’s hand flies to the ‘call’ button so fast he almost misses it.
Spock’s eyes land on him before he gets to his seat, and Jim swears he sees annoyance cross those eyes for a split second.
“How can I help you, sir?”
“My screen isn’t working.”
Spock’s shoulders slump with a physical sigh and he braces his arm on the back of Jim’s chair as he leans over him. Jim breathes in the cologne Spock’s wearing as he stares at the slope of his neck, mesmerized by the flawless skin. He completely blocks out what Spock’s saying until Spock is suddenly out of his personal space and standing up next to where he’s sitting.
“There is nothing wrong with the TV, sir,” Spock says politely.
“My mistake,” Jim says with a smile.
Spock turns and walks away without another look.
The time slips slowly by. Jim gets his meal and casually mentions his name to Spock, who responds with a curt nod before serving the people sitting behind them. Jim even tries to knock his fork off the small table and into the aisle to get Spock to bend over, but the fork goes the wrong way and lands in his lap. Spock sees him when he’s pulling the fork away from his crotch, and raises an eyebrow.
They start the descent and Jim begins to admit defeat. He’s only accomplished annoying Spock or looking like an idiot in front of him. After a trip to the bathroom, Jim goes to the galley and looks around for a glass to make himself a drink.
“Can I help you, sir?”
Jim whirls around and comes face to face with Spock. Jim smiles. “Just wanted some water.”
Spock nods and immediately prepares him his drink in silence, his fingers working quickly around the small area.
“So, you, err, like your job?”
“It is satisfactory,” Spock replies as he unscrews a bottle of water and pours it into the glass.
“Flying all over the world must be difficult for your… girlfriend?” Jim tries, knowing that he’s not even being subtle as he takes a long look at Spock’s ass in his pants.
“She understands,” Spock replies. Jim’s stomach drops and he grabs the water from Spock and heads back to his seat where McCoy is dozing with his earphones still in. He’s barely heard a peep out of his colleague the whole flight.
“Bones,” Jim whispers loudly, giving him a nudge.
“I’m sleeping.”
“The fuck you are.” Jim grabs the earphone closest to him and it pops out of McCoy’s ear. “Turns out the hot flight attendant has a girlfriend.”
“Yeah, because otherwise you would have been in there,” McCoy says dryly, voice loaded with sarcasm.
“Shh, you.”
Thirty minutes later and the plane touches down in LAX and Jim spends the whole time sulking. He glances at Spock when he sees him, finding himself oddly mesmerised by the strange man who always looks so intense and professional. Jim wants to see him laugh, or even just crack a smile. He’s sure it would be amazing.
As he walks off the plane, he passes Spock at the open door. Jim gives him a small smile and for a split second, he sees those dark, brown eyes soften slightly as they look at him. Jim’s smile widens as he walks off the plane after his friend.
Flight 342: TPA to ATL
“Delayed,” Jim snaps, looking up at the board from where he’s sitting in the departure lounge.
“Calm down. It’s only an hour or so. We’ll make the meeting.” McCoy flicks the page of his book over.
“I don’t care about the meeting, I just hate waiting.”
“You’re like some over active puppy. Settle down, read a magazine or something. And more importantly, leave me alone.”
Jim sighs and pushes himself up. “I’m going to go and get some food, want anything?”
“Nah, I’m alright.”
Jim nods and heads down the concourse, weaving in and out of passengers pulling their trolley bags behind them. He goes into one of the news stores and grabs a soda, some milk duds and a newspaper. He walks out of the store, already shoving milk duds into his open mouth, when he notices Spock.
He’s walking down the concourse toward him with two petite, pretty stewardesses either side of him, both talking happily. Spock’s gaze is the same as always: bored, stoic and incredibly intense. Jim watches them go past him and then head to the gate McCoy is sitting at. Jim’s stomach flip flops as he watches the three flight attendants flash their ID and be let through the large door that leads to the arm that connects the plane.
Jim quickly rushes over to McCoy and sits down eagerly.
“Bones, my luck is in.”
“Go away,” McCoy says, eyes fixed on the page in front of him.
“You remember that flight attendant who was really hot? We were going from Miami to LAX like a month ago.”
“Yeah,” McCoy mumbles, still not giving Jim his undivided attention.
“He’s on this plane. He’s working on it. Shame this flight is a short one.”
“Didn’t he end up having a girlfriend?” McCoy says, finally turning to Jim wearily.
“Yeah,” Jim says dejectedly. “Doesn’t mean I can’t flirt.”
“Can I have our boarding passes for a sec?”
Jim passes the two slips of paper over. McCoy looks and them and sighs tiredly. “Sitting together I see. My luck definitely isn’t in.”
“You adore me,” Jim says, putting a hand on McCoy’s thigh and squeezing. McCoy just bats his hand away and goes back to his book.
…
The plane has a three by three seat combination which means McCoy’s next to the window and Jim’s in a middle seat. Jim hopes no one takes the aisle seat beside him because it’ll hinder his ability to drop things and get Spock to bend over. He’s happy the plane is small though as it appears Spock is working in the main cabin for the flight as the first class cabin consists of only twelve seats.
Jim is about to slide over into the aisle seat when suddenly a man runs onto the plane looking flustered and out of breath, his hand luggage clutched to his chest.
“Sorry,” the guy says in an accent Jim can’t pinpoint.
The guy breathes heavily, his face red, as he walks along the aisle, looking at the seat numbers as he goes. Jim can’t help the annoyed sigh when the man stops right by their seats and proceeds to shove his bag into the overhead bin loudly, pushing it forcefully inside the tiny space before slamming the lid closed.
The man collapses onto the seat next to Jim and flashes a friendly smile. “Damn airport security. If you’re not American, you’re a terrorist.”
Jim smiles as he recognises the Scottish accent.
“Just because I have three books on plane engineering must mean I’m planning on hotwiring the thing and flying us to god knows where.”
Jim laughs freely, surprised by the guy’s odd sense of humour. “You a plane engineer?”
“Used to be until they made us all redundant because they found a computer that could do our job. But let me tell yer something, who’s going to save this plane crashing to the ground when the computer fails, eh? No one, that’s who.”
Jim feels McCoy flinch next to him, clearly listening in to the conversation. “So, what do you do now?”
“Work as an airport engineer. Not nearly as exciting. I’m Scotty by the way,” he says with a friendly little wave.
“I’m Jim and my friend, who is pretending not to know me because we’re trying to hide out secret love affair, is McCoy.”
That gets McCoy’s attention as he leans forward to look passed Jim to Scotty. “We’re not, and never will be, together.”
“He’s just antsy because he’s a nervous flyer.”
Scotty nods. “I hear yer. I am, too, now I know my life is in the hands of some computer system that could easily fail.”
McCoy’s face drops into a split second of terror and Jim laughs, patting his knee. “We’ll be fine, Bones.”
They settle down into silence when the safety video starts because McCoy shushes them both furiously as he listens.
They’re in a queue for the runway when Scotty sits up in his seat and waves. At Spock. Whose lips quirk in a small smile as he gives a nod back. Jim’s mouth drops open.
Jim whirls around to give Scotty his complete attention. “You know him?”
“Yeah, he was often on the planes I was on. I had the biggest crush on his girlfriend.”
Jim nods sadly and clicks his tongue. “Yeah. I spent a whole flight hitting on him and at the end found out he was taken.”
The roar of the engine starts and Jim mouths ‘one minute’ to Scotty before turning to McCoy, who’s busy looking scarily white as he sits upright in his chair all tense. Jim covers one of McCoy’s hands with his own as they plane picks up speed along the runway. McCoy takes a sharp intake of breath as they plane lifts up and Jim gives McCoy’s hand, which has white knuckles because of how hard he’s clinging to the arm rest, a quick squeeze.
When the plane evens out and McCoy relaxes, Scotty gives them amused looks. “You guys definitely not a couple?”
Jim smiles. “Nah. Not for lack of trying though,” he says with a wink. McCoy mumbles ‘idiot’ under his breath before leaning forward and picking up one of the magazines in the seatback pocket.
It’s only five minutes into the flight when Spock stalks down the aisle and comes to stop by their row. Scotty stands up, completely ignoring that the seat belt sign is still on, and gives Spock a quick hug. Spock pats him awkwardly on the back before they part.
“How are ya?” Scotty asks, rocking back on his heels.
“I am well. You are a missed presence on many flights,” Spock says, looking at him fondly.
Jim shifts, hoping to somehow get Spock’s attention. Spock’s eyes flick to him for a second before fixing back on Scotty. Then very slowly, his eyes slide back over to Jim, this time with recognition.
“Remember me?” Jim asks, grinning widely.
“I do.” Jim can’t tell if he sounds annoyed Jim’s there or actually a little pleased. Jim unfastens his seatbelt to stretch out a little and Spock turns a glare on him.
“Sir, please ensure your seatbelt is fastened when the sign is on,” Spock says in a commanding, forceful voice as his hand indicates the little orange lit up symbol above their heads. Jim looks at Scotty pointedly, who is standing up in the aisle, before pouting and refastening his seatbelt.
Scotty gives him a smile before patting Spock’s shoulder. “How’s that gorgeous girlfriend of yours?”
“We have parted ways.”
Scotty’s face lights up with joy before he schools his face into an apologetic one. Jim just smiles up at them.
“Sorry ter hear that,” Scotty forces out. “Anyway, better let you do your job.”
Scotty sits back down in his seat, letting Spock through to carry on down the narrow aisle.
“Best news I’ve heard all year,” Scotty comments, rubbing his hands together gleefully. “I knew they wouldn’t last.”
“Do you know if he likes guys by any chance?” Jim asks, watching Spock’s ass as he walks back down the aisle.
“He’s not much of a talker so I don’t know, sorry,” Scotty says with a shrug.
Jim sits back in his seat and idly flicks through the in-flight magazine, waiting anxiously for Spock to come around with drinks. He doesn’t have to wait long when he notices Spock and another steward start walking down the aisle with the drinks cart.
Jim puts on his best smile, fixes his hair and is ready and waiting by the time they reach their row. Jim almost lets out an outraged whine when they move the cart past their row so the other steward is serving them. Jim sits up and looks behind their seats to where Spock is preparing drinks.
“Damn it,” Jim mutters under his breath. Scotty gives a loud snort at his misfortune as he loudly opens a little packet of cheese snacks the steward handed him.
“Why you so interested in him?” Scotty asks round a mouthful of chips.
“Well, at first it was because he was super hot, but now I’m just intrigued by him, I guess. I can’t really explain it, there’s just something about him.”
“He’s a nice enough guy, but I don’t think you two would suit somehow. You seem… lively and spontaneous. Spock likes routine when he manages to get it with his odd schedule.”
Jim sighs with disappointment and before he knows it, his ears are popping as they start the descent into Atlanta.
As he walks off the plane and into the air conditioned terminal, he turns on his phone and sends his friend Gaila a text, asking for a favour.
Flight 3: LAX to NRT
Jim smiles to himself as he stands in line at security. McCoy is in front of him, taking off his shoes and jacket. He’d spent a lot of time persuading Teresa, who deals with organizing business trips back at the office, that they just had to get this flight because it was the most convenient. It was a lie considering they had to wake up at ass o’clock that morning and were going to arrive in Tokyo six hours earlier than they needed to. All in all though, it was going to be worth it.
“What’s got you so happy?” McCoy asks back at him as he puts his hand luggage on the small conveyor belt.
“Nothing,” Jim comments secretively, shrugging off his own jacket.
They make their way through security quickly and head straight to their gate, Jim’s pace slightly faster than McCoy’s.
McCoy stops abruptly when they reach the gate and he whirls around to face Jim, his expression somewhere between amusement and weariness. “What a shock your steward is here.”
Jim’s eyes flash passed McCoy to where Spock is standing, posture straight, next to the captain of the plane who’s busy going through his phone, both of them waiting to be given the approval to board and get the plane ready.
“Oh wow, what a coincidence,” Jim says in a flat voice, his lips quirking.
“This is why I had to wake up at 5am? How the hell did you know he was on this flight?”
Jim sighs and turns to look at McCoy at an angle which allows him to keep Spock in his sights. “I had sex with this girl Gaila once. Turns out she works for the airline Spock works for, so I gave her a call and asked for a favour.” Jim reaches into his hand luggage and pulls out three sheets of paper with tables on. “And here is his work roster for the next four weeks. Awesome, huh?”
McCoy stares at him like he’s gone crazy. “Are you kidding me? You can get arrested for stalking. You’ve done some stupid shit to get laid in your time but this beats it all by miles. Let him go, Jim, before you get us both put on the no fly list.”
Jim just nods distractedly, not really listening as he watches Spock head toward the gate door.
“Uh huh, good point. Ok, so Spock is working in the business class cabin so I somehow need to get us upgraded. Gaila can’t do it because she doesn’t have privileges.”
McCoy gives a snort and huff before clearly wanting nothing more to do with the situation and going to sit down in protest. Jim just shrugs and walks over to the gate desk where two women are standing, conversing quietly.
Five minutes of flirting and complimenting later, Jim heads over to where McCoy is sitting with two new boarding passes in his hand.
“I am getting way better at this. I remember when I couldn’t even get us upgraded to Economy plus.”
“Those were the days,” McCoy mumbles under his breath as he texts quickly on his phone.
“Tell me you love me,” Jim blurts out, still grinning at his friend.
Several people nearby give them looks and McCoy shakes his head tiredly. “Go away.”
“Go on, tell me, or I’ll go and take your first class ticket, which is a complete different cabin to where I’ll be sitting, back to the desk and get one right next to where I will spend the whole flight hitting on Spock.”
McCoy’s head whips up and he takes in the seat number on the ticket, confirming what Jim’s told him. “I love you, you stupid bastard.”
Jim hands him the ticket and settles back into the sleek black chairs, his ankles crossing, as he contemplates how he’s going to go about getting Spock.
…
“So, this plane is a 777, right?”
Spock stares at him blankly from his place next to Jim’s seat, looking down at him. “Yes, it is a Boeing 777-300. It has a cruising speed of 0.84 mach, a wing span of 199 feet 11 inches, and a fuel capacity of 44, 220 gallons.”
“Uh huh,” Jim says slowly, nodding quickly. “How tall is the tail thing at the back?”
“60ft 8 inches.”
“Wow, you certainly know a lot about this plane. Tell me, what’s the width of the airplane bathroom?” Jim asks suggestively, waggling his eyebrows. “You know, how much room is there to move around?”
“I am unsure of the width but I can assure there is enough room for just you to move around,” Spock says dryly.
Jim grins. “Are you being snarky with me?”
“I do not know the meaning of that word,” Spock says, his lips quirking a fraction.
“Sure you don’t. So, I have a spare seat next to me, if you ever want a rest or a sit down, I have no problems with you occupying it.”
“That is against airline rules. Also, I do not believe I would achieve much rest with you beside me.”
Jim feels his stomach clench for a moment with excitement. “You’re totally being snarky with me. That’s kind of hot.”
“If you have no further questions, please allow me to continue with my pre-flight safety checks.”
Jim nods with a grin, and Spock hesitates, just for a fraction of a second, as his eyes fix on Jim’s mouth before he strides away.
…
“Sir, please desist from dropping your eating utensils into the aisle,” Spock says as he looms over Jim, staring pointedly at the growing collection of napkins and forks on the floor.
“Could you pick them up for me?” Jim asks, fluttering his eye lashes.
Spock blinks rapidly for a moment before letting out a small sigh, and bending down. Jim presses his seat button to recline back, giving him a perfect view of Spock’s ass as he collects the items from the floor.
“Nice,” Jim murmurs to himself, his hand just itching to reach out and lay his palm on the round ass in front of him. The only thing stopping him is the possible sexual harassment lawsuit that would probably come from it.
“Sir-”
Jim takes in a breath, deciding to just go for it. “My name is Jim Kirk. I love cooking food almost as much as I like eating it and I’m an Aries. I love cuddling, I’m fairly submissive in bed, I once hit a bird with my car and cried, and I believe that Jurassic Park is one of the best movies ever made. I like to spend my time doing extreme sports like skydiving but I can also appreciate a good book. Also, I’m a dog person, but I’m not averse to cats. Tell me about you.”
Spock stares at him for a moment, his lips parting as he takes in what Jim has said. “I did not ask you any questions.”
“I know. I’m just an upfront kind of guy.”
“I must get back to work,” Spock says, his eyes holding a moment of curiosity and fascination as he stares at Jim. Just before he walks off, he turns. “I am a cat person.”
Jim sits back in his seat and grins to himself, feeling like he’s starting to make progress, however small.
…
Jim had planned it down to the second, but taking off his sweater suggestively to reveal his t-shirt in front of Spock had phenomenally failed.
He’s standing in the middle of the aisle, swinging his arms about, sweater over his head, looking like a headless chicken.
He can’t see a thing and swings around in a semi-panic, wanting to get the sweater off the whole way. He bashes his arms into the overhead bins twice before someone takes pity on him and pulls his sweater fully over his head.
Jim stands up straight and comes face to face with Spock, who’s got his sweater clutched in one hand. Spock looks somewhere between finding the situation funny and worrying over Jim’s mental health.
“Thanks,” Jim says, blushing deeply as he takes the sweater from Spock’s outstretched hand. “That wasn’t very smooth, was it?” Jim says, rubbing the back of his neck.
There’s silence as an answer and Jim looks up to find that Spock is staring at his red cheeks with fascination. Under Spock’s gaze, Jim flushes with embarrassment even more, his whole face becoming hot. Spock’s mouth opens slightly, his eyes taking in Jim’s face slowly, like he can’t look away.
“Fascinating,” Spock murmurs quietly.
Jim’s face transforms in to a smirk when he realises he’s being checked out. “Like what you see?”
Spock’s face snaps back into blank professionalism and he swivels around at once, walking off down the aisle quickly.
Jim settles back into his seat, adjusting his t-shirt slightly. “Oh, it is on.”
…
“Could you get me a blanket from the overhead bin?” Jim asks casually, sitting back lazily in his seat. He’s hoping Spock’s uniform will ride up and maybe display a nice peek of skin.
Spock reaches up to fulfil Jim’s request but no skin is seen. It’s not a complete waste of time however when Spock’s crotch is almost in his face. Jim stares at the bulge in the black pants as Spock moves things about in the overhead bin to get to a blanket. He can barely take his eyes of the teasing sight of the vague outline of Spock’s dick.
“Here,” Spock says, handing a blanket to Jim.
Jim’s eyes remain fixed on Spock’s crotch area, like he’s entranced by it.
“My eyes are up here, sir,” Spock says dryly before walking off.
Jim puts the blanket across his lap, hiding the bulge in his own pants.
Spock avoids him for the rest of the flight like he’s afraid of what Jim will do next.
He shoots him a smile when he leaves the plane and finds that Spock is looking at him with curiosity. Jim smiles.
Flight 188: CLT to SAN
“You ever joined the mile high club?” Jim asks Spock, ignoring the huff from McCoy beside him as they sit on the plane, the engines loud as they level out at a cruising altitude.
Spock looks at him from where he’s stood next to Jim’s seat. “I know you are referring to sexual intercourse within an airplane bathroom. However, at a mile high, all passengers should be in their seats as it would be during the ascent or descent.”
“So, it should be called the six or seven mile high club?”
“Perhaps, yes. However, you should remember the likelihood of serious injury whilst attempting coitus within such a confined space is extremely high.”
Jim cocks his head to the side with a knowing smirk. “You talking from experience?”
“That is none of your concern,” Spock says stiffly and walks away, not letting Jim get another word in.
“Oh my god, Spock’s a member of the mile high club. He just went from super hot to marriage material in one sentence.”
McCoy’s head snaps up to look at him, eyes shocked. “Did you just use the ‘m’ word to refer to a guy? Goddamn, Jim. I better get my tux out ready.”
“Calm yourself. He might not even like me. Although, I’ve been pretty persistent.”
“Understatement of the millennia,” McCoy mumbles under his breath.
Part 2
Author: demonllama1
Universe: AU
Rating: NC-17
Relationship status: first time
Word count: 10,440
Genre: humour, romance, fluff
Warning: Language, graphic sex, fluff.
A/N: Based on this prompt. There is lots of McCoy/Jim friendship in this but it’s all platonic. AU’s are my crack if you hadn’t already noticed. ;) Knowledge of airport codes will be handy.
Summary: Modern Day AU. Jim is an annoying airplane passenger; Spock is a hot flight attendant.
Flight 68: MIA to LAX
Jim sighs and taps his boarding pass against his lip as he stares at the board with red letters displayed. He then starts tapping his feet impatiently against the soft floor of the departure lounge as he glances around at the other passengers sitting at the gate.
“Would you stop that?” McCoy, his colleague and friend, mutters from where he’s sitting next to him, a book open in his hands.
“Sorry. Just bored.”
“You’re acting like an infant. If you’re bored now, how you going to handle the six hour flight? Don’t make me slip you something in your drink. Again.”
Jim glances at him with an apologetic smile. “Someone’s cranky. Are you afraid of the big, bad plane?”
McCoy huffs loudly and lets his book flop onto his lap. “Flying is not natural. Humans aren’t made for it.”
“Yeah, yeah. Ok, I’m going to go flirt with the guy at the gate to see if he’ll upgrade us.”
McCoy picks his book back up. “Has that ever worked?”
“Couple times.” Jim stands up, grabs their boarding passes and rolls up the sleeves on his white button down shirt, exposing his forearms. He quickly rakes his fingers through his dark blond hair and strolls as casually as he can over to the gate desk where two check-in assistants are standing, one on the phone and the other typing away on the computer.
“Hi there,” Jim says with a charming smile as he places his arms on the counter top. The guy drags his eyes up and looks at Jim with disdain. Jim immediately realises he has to change his strategy. “I’m Jim. I’m currently sitting in 34A and,” Jim glances at the guy’s name tag, who is staring at him warily, “Gary, well, you see that gorgeous man over there reading a book with a sexy glower?”
Gary follows his eye line to where McCoy is sitting and nods. “Sure.”
“That’s my husband. We’ve just gotten married and he’s also afraid of flying, and I’m sure it would really help if we could celebrate the start of our honeymoon in first class.”
Gary sighs tiredly and looks down at his computer and starts tapping away. Jim lets out a hum as he waits but stops when Gary glances at him pointedly. Jim shoots him a flirtatious smile.
“The only seats I have in first aren’t together,” Gary says evenly.
“I’ll take them. Distance makes the heart grow fonder,” Jim says with a pleased grin.
Gary looks at him like he knows exactly what Jim is doing but can’t be bothered to call him on it. Instead he whips the two boarding passes out of Jim’s hand and replaces them with two new ones.
“Enjoy your flight,” Garry says, smiling briefly.
“Oh, Gary, I will,” Jim turns and swaggers back over to where McCoy is sitting, his eyes fixed on his book.
“Darling, I managed to get us two first class seats,” Jim says with a pleased grin. McCoy sits up and looks at him, surprise lighting up his dark features.
“Seriously?”
“Yep. I told them we’re a just married couple so if I grab your crotch you have to go with it.”
McCoy shoots him a dark look. “Go anywhere near my dick with your hand and I’ll cut it off, kid.”
“God, you’re so romantic,” Jim says dryly, a large smile on his face.
“I’m so glad I’m not sitting near you for six hours,” McCoy says, whipping his new boarding pass out of Jim’s hand and going back to his book.
…
Twenty minutes later and they’re boarding. McCoy mumbles about how ridiculous planes are and how much he hates them as they walk down the narrow aisle. Jim finds his seat two rows behind McCoy and is about to make himself comfortable when he decides that he’d rather be next to his friend for the flight, so he makes a deal with the pretty blonde sitting next to McCoy and manages to take her seat. McCoy looks at him like someone just punched his favourite puppy.
“Why Jim? I was looking forward to a quiet flight not being next to you.”
“Let’s not pretend I’m not your favourite.”
McCoy just looks at him like he hopes he gets sucked into the engine before turning and staring out of the window. Jim watches as more people fill the first class cabin, all of them doing battle with fitting their hand luggage in to the overhead bins. Jim snorts loudly when a man gets snapped at by a flight attendant for not checking his rather large baggage.
Jim then proceeds to spend ten minutes playing with the seat functions which causes a low buzzing noise to emanate every time he reclines his chair or gets the foot rest up. McCoy gives him a glare after the second time Jim hits the wrong button and causes the back of his chair to go flat quickly.
He’s looking down the aisle to where some of the flight attendants are busy in the galley when he sees him. A tall, thin, dark haired man who is standing elegantly, hands behind his back as he listens intently to a colleague. Jim’s struck by the guy’s intensity and the way his cheek bones stand in definition to his flawless pale skin. He’s dressed in smart black pants, a white shirt, and a little waistcoat.
“This flight just got interesting.”
“Uh huh,” McCoy says, not looking up from his book.
Jim nudges him in the side with his elbow. “Check out the hot flight attendant.”
McCoy sighs wearily and drags his eyes up to look. “Bit thin.”
“Yeah, but look at his arms in his cute little uniform. I bet he’d be good at holding me up against an airplane bathroom door as we fuck.”
McCoy snorts and goes back to his book.
Jim grabs some of the magazines on airplane safety and in-flight entertainment, and flicks through them as he waits for the flight attendants for the first class cabin to move about.
He’s in the middle of looking at some truly genius inventions in the SkyMall magazine when he feels a presence standing next to his seat.
“Can I get you a pre-take off beverage, sir?” Jim looks up and smiles when he meets the dark brown eyes of the flight attendant he’d been looking at.
“Whiskey,” McCoy barks, not looking up.
“Just some water for me, thanks,” Jim says as the steward busies himself with the cart and prepares the drink. “So, what’s your name?”
McCoy visibly sighs from beside him.
“Spock,” he replies in a monotone voice as he pours some water into a glass.
“Interesting name.”
“Thank you,” Spock replies as he passes the whiskey passed Jim and hands it to McCoy. He then hands Jim his glass of water.
“Glass instead of plastic? This is like sitting at the adult table or something.”
“Indeed,” Spock says, sounding bored.
Jim just smiles largely at him as his eyes take in his dark eyebrows and eyelashes, and the way his black, silky hair flops around his head awkwardly.
Just before Spock moves on he pauses and looks down at them. “I was informed you are both on your honeymoon. Congratulations.”
Jim bites his lip to stop himself from laughing at the complete lack of tone or inflection in the guy’s voice.
“Oh, we’ve decided to stay friends instead,” Jim says, not wanting Spock to think he’s taken.
Spock just looks at him, then flicks his eyes to McCoy, before nodding and moving past their row.
“That was smooth,” McCoy comments, turning the page before taking a long swig of whiskey.
“Oh trust me, I’ll have my thighs around his waist in the plane bathroom before you know it.”
“Sure,” McCoy says disbelievingly.
The plane slowly pushes back and Jim can feel McCoy slowly becoming tenser. The safety video comes on and McCoy gives it as much attention as he can short of actually taking notes. When it ends Jim shoots McCoy a smile before catching Spock’s attention as he walks by.
“Hi, excuse me.”
“Yes?” Spock says, his hands going behind his back as he falls into a casual stance.
“I have a few questions about the safety video you’ve just shown. At the end it said to speak to a flight attendant about any concerns so here I am.”
Spock’s eyes flash with something that’s close to an actual emotion for a moment. “What is your query?”
“Planes landing on water, does that even happen?”
“Yes, it does.”
Jim nods. “Ok, ok, well, how many people survive that sort of landing?”
“0.4%.”
“So, it’s pretty unlikely that we even need to know that stuff about how to slide down the big bouncy slides or how to blow a whistle on a lifevest when we’ll pretty much all die from the impact?”
McCoy’s hands stiffen on the arm rests and Jim sends out a silent apology.
“You do not need to concern yourself with that as we are flying over the continental USA.”
“Oh, yeah, good point. Thank you. You’ve really helped,” Jim says with an over the top wink. Spock gives him a borderline pissed off look before walking away.
“Did your poor attempts at hitting on someone have to include you pointing out the small odds of us surviving a plane crash?”
“Yeah, sorry about that. Didn’t really think it through.”
“Do you ever?”
…
The take off is smooth but McCoy sits rigid in his seat, hands gripping the arm rests tightly like he’s waiting for them to plummet to their death. Jim eats a small packet of pretzels loudly and gets a glare when he offers the bag to McCoy innocently, shaking it slightly.
By the time they even out, Jim’s finished his pretzels and he’s back to reading the SkyMall magazine whilst he waits for the in-flight entertainment to start in the form of the hot flight attendant, and also for the films to begin. McCoy slowly starts to relax as they level out and he picks up his book, flicking to the page he left off from.
Spock comes by and whips a menu out of his hand and hands it to Jim and then another to McCoy.
“Thank you so much,” Jim says loudly, grinning up at the stoic flight attendant.
Spock just moves on past their seats without a word.
“How do you ever get laid with those kind of flirting tactics?” McCoy asks under his breath as the seatbelt sign goes off with a loud ping.
“My blue eyes,” Jim says, fluttering his eyelashes for effect. “Also, I have a big penis.”
McCoy just sighs and looks down at the menu. “They’re pretty much just offering us chicken or pasta in posh sauces.”
“Oh the decisions,” Jim says, staring down at his own menu for a moment before looking down the aisle and seeing Spock move about in the small space between the first class cabin and the cockpit. Jim grins and presses the ‘call’ button on his arm rest.
“Can I help you?” a chipper, young stewardess asks, appearing next to his seat seemingly out of nowhere.
McCoy snorts next to him at his failed attempt to get Spock.
“Oh, sorry, I thought I had a question about the menu but it turns out that… I don’t. I’ll have the bowtie pasta, thank you.”
“Chicken for me,” McCoy says bluntly, his hand shooting out passed Jim to hand back the menu.
The girl smiles and walks off toward where Spock is still cluttering about.
“Damn. I didn’t look behind me before hitting that button.”
“Jim, are you actually going to dedicate this whole flight to getting laid?”
Jim blinks before a slow smile spreads across his face. “Yeah. Probably.”
McCoy nods and leans forward to grab at his bag, and pulls out some earphones. He places them in his ears to block Jim out. Jim shrugs and grabs at his TV which is stored under his seat. He pulls it out, adjusts it, and starts poking at the screen to view all the available entertainment.
He’s in the middle of some animated TV show he’s not paying attention to when he sees Spock start to head down his aisle. Jim’s hand flies to the ‘call’ button so fast he almost misses it.
Spock’s eyes land on him before he gets to his seat, and Jim swears he sees annoyance cross those eyes for a split second.
“How can I help you, sir?”
“My screen isn’t working.”
Spock’s shoulders slump with a physical sigh and he braces his arm on the back of Jim’s chair as he leans over him. Jim breathes in the cologne Spock’s wearing as he stares at the slope of his neck, mesmerized by the flawless skin. He completely blocks out what Spock’s saying until Spock is suddenly out of his personal space and standing up next to where he’s sitting.
“There is nothing wrong with the TV, sir,” Spock says politely.
“My mistake,” Jim says with a smile.
Spock turns and walks away without another look.
The time slips slowly by. Jim gets his meal and casually mentions his name to Spock, who responds with a curt nod before serving the people sitting behind them. Jim even tries to knock his fork off the small table and into the aisle to get Spock to bend over, but the fork goes the wrong way and lands in his lap. Spock sees him when he’s pulling the fork away from his crotch, and raises an eyebrow.
They start the descent and Jim begins to admit defeat. He’s only accomplished annoying Spock or looking like an idiot in front of him. After a trip to the bathroom, Jim goes to the galley and looks around for a glass to make himself a drink.
“Can I help you, sir?”
Jim whirls around and comes face to face with Spock. Jim smiles. “Just wanted some water.”
Spock nods and immediately prepares him his drink in silence, his fingers working quickly around the small area.
“So, you, err, like your job?”
“It is satisfactory,” Spock replies as he unscrews a bottle of water and pours it into the glass.
“Flying all over the world must be difficult for your… girlfriend?” Jim tries, knowing that he’s not even being subtle as he takes a long look at Spock’s ass in his pants.
“She understands,” Spock replies. Jim’s stomach drops and he grabs the water from Spock and heads back to his seat where McCoy is dozing with his earphones still in. He’s barely heard a peep out of his colleague the whole flight.
“Bones,” Jim whispers loudly, giving him a nudge.
“I’m sleeping.”
“The fuck you are.” Jim grabs the earphone closest to him and it pops out of McCoy’s ear. “Turns out the hot flight attendant has a girlfriend.”
“Yeah, because otherwise you would have been in there,” McCoy says dryly, voice loaded with sarcasm.
“Shh, you.”
Thirty minutes later and the plane touches down in LAX and Jim spends the whole time sulking. He glances at Spock when he sees him, finding himself oddly mesmerised by the strange man who always looks so intense and professional. Jim wants to see him laugh, or even just crack a smile. He’s sure it would be amazing.
As he walks off the plane, he passes Spock at the open door. Jim gives him a small smile and for a split second, he sees those dark, brown eyes soften slightly as they look at him. Jim’s smile widens as he walks off the plane after his friend.
Flight 342: TPA to ATL
“Delayed,” Jim snaps, looking up at the board from where he’s sitting in the departure lounge.
“Calm down. It’s only an hour or so. We’ll make the meeting.” McCoy flicks the page of his book over.
“I don’t care about the meeting, I just hate waiting.”
“You’re like some over active puppy. Settle down, read a magazine or something. And more importantly, leave me alone.”
Jim sighs and pushes himself up. “I’m going to go and get some food, want anything?”
“Nah, I’m alright.”
Jim nods and heads down the concourse, weaving in and out of passengers pulling their trolley bags behind them. He goes into one of the news stores and grabs a soda, some milk duds and a newspaper. He walks out of the store, already shoving milk duds into his open mouth, when he notices Spock.
He’s walking down the concourse toward him with two petite, pretty stewardesses either side of him, both talking happily. Spock’s gaze is the same as always: bored, stoic and incredibly intense. Jim watches them go past him and then head to the gate McCoy is sitting at. Jim’s stomach flip flops as he watches the three flight attendants flash their ID and be let through the large door that leads to the arm that connects the plane.
Jim quickly rushes over to McCoy and sits down eagerly.
“Bones, my luck is in.”
“Go away,” McCoy says, eyes fixed on the page in front of him.
“You remember that flight attendant who was really hot? We were going from Miami to LAX like a month ago.”
“Yeah,” McCoy mumbles, still not giving Jim his undivided attention.
“He’s on this plane. He’s working on it. Shame this flight is a short one.”
“Didn’t he end up having a girlfriend?” McCoy says, finally turning to Jim wearily.
“Yeah,” Jim says dejectedly. “Doesn’t mean I can’t flirt.”
“Can I have our boarding passes for a sec?”
Jim passes the two slips of paper over. McCoy looks and them and sighs tiredly. “Sitting together I see. My luck definitely isn’t in.”
“You adore me,” Jim says, putting a hand on McCoy’s thigh and squeezing. McCoy just bats his hand away and goes back to his book.
…
The plane has a three by three seat combination which means McCoy’s next to the window and Jim’s in a middle seat. Jim hopes no one takes the aisle seat beside him because it’ll hinder his ability to drop things and get Spock to bend over. He’s happy the plane is small though as it appears Spock is working in the main cabin for the flight as the first class cabin consists of only twelve seats.
Jim is about to slide over into the aisle seat when suddenly a man runs onto the plane looking flustered and out of breath, his hand luggage clutched to his chest.
“Sorry,” the guy says in an accent Jim can’t pinpoint.
The guy breathes heavily, his face red, as he walks along the aisle, looking at the seat numbers as he goes. Jim can’t help the annoyed sigh when the man stops right by their seats and proceeds to shove his bag into the overhead bin loudly, pushing it forcefully inside the tiny space before slamming the lid closed.
The man collapses onto the seat next to Jim and flashes a friendly smile. “Damn airport security. If you’re not American, you’re a terrorist.”
Jim smiles as he recognises the Scottish accent.
“Just because I have three books on plane engineering must mean I’m planning on hotwiring the thing and flying us to god knows where.”
Jim laughs freely, surprised by the guy’s odd sense of humour. “You a plane engineer?”
“Used to be until they made us all redundant because they found a computer that could do our job. But let me tell yer something, who’s going to save this plane crashing to the ground when the computer fails, eh? No one, that’s who.”
Jim feels McCoy flinch next to him, clearly listening in to the conversation. “So, what do you do now?”
“Work as an airport engineer. Not nearly as exciting. I’m Scotty by the way,” he says with a friendly little wave.
“I’m Jim and my friend, who is pretending not to know me because we’re trying to hide out secret love affair, is McCoy.”
That gets McCoy’s attention as he leans forward to look passed Jim to Scotty. “We’re not, and never will be, together.”
“He’s just antsy because he’s a nervous flyer.”
Scotty nods. “I hear yer. I am, too, now I know my life is in the hands of some computer system that could easily fail.”
McCoy’s face drops into a split second of terror and Jim laughs, patting his knee. “We’ll be fine, Bones.”
They settle down into silence when the safety video starts because McCoy shushes them both furiously as he listens.
They’re in a queue for the runway when Scotty sits up in his seat and waves. At Spock. Whose lips quirk in a small smile as he gives a nod back. Jim’s mouth drops open.
Jim whirls around to give Scotty his complete attention. “You know him?”
“Yeah, he was often on the planes I was on. I had the biggest crush on his girlfriend.”
Jim nods sadly and clicks his tongue. “Yeah. I spent a whole flight hitting on him and at the end found out he was taken.”
The roar of the engine starts and Jim mouths ‘one minute’ to Scotty before turning to McCoy, who’s busy looking scarily white as he sits upright in his chair all tense. Jim covers one of McCoy’s hands with his own as they plane picks up speed along the runway. McCoy takes a sharp intake of breath as they plane lifts up and Jim gives McCoy’s hand, which has white knuckles because of how hard he’s clinging to the arm rest, a quick squeeze.
When the plane evens out and McCoy relaxes, Scotty gives them amused looks. “You guys definitely not a couple?”
Jim smiles. “Nah. Not for lack of trying though,” he says with a wink. McCoy mumbles ‘idiot’ under his breath before leaning forward and picking up one of the magazines in the seatback pocket.
It’s only five minutes into the flight when Spock stalks down the aisle and comes to stop by their row. Scotty stands up, completely ignoring that the seat belt sign is still on, and gives Spock a quick hug. Spock pats him awkwardly on the back before they part.
“How are ya?” Scotty asks, rocking back on his heels.
“I am well. You are a missed presence on many flights,” Spock says, looking at him fondly.
Jim shifts, hoping to somehow get Spock’s attention. Spock’s eyes flick to him for a second before fixing back on Scotty. Then very slowly, his eyes slide back over to Jim, this time with recognition.
“Remember me?” Jim asks, grinning widely.
“I do.” Jim can’t tell if he sounds annoyed Jim’s there or actually a little pleased. Jim unfastens his seatbelt to stretch out a little and Spock turns a glare on him.
“Sir, please ensure your seatbelt is fastened when the sign is on,” Spock says in a commanding, forceful voice as his hand indicates the little orange lit up symbol above their heads. Jim looks at Scotty pointedly, who is standing up in the aisle, before pouting and refastening his seatbelt.
Scotty gives him a smile before patting Spock’s shoulder. “How’s that gorgeous girlfriend of yours?”
“We have parted ways.”
Scotty’s face lights up with joy before he schools his face into an apologetic one. Jim just smiles up at them.
“Sorry ter hear that,” Scotty forces out. “Anyway, better let you do your job.”
Scotty sits back down in his seat, letting Spock through to carry on down the narrow aisle.
“Best news I’ve heard all year,” Scotty comments, rubbing his hands together gleefully. “I knew they wouldn’t last.”
“Do you know if he likes guys by any chance?” Jim asks, watching Spock’s ass as he walks back down the aisle.
“He’s not much of a talker so I don’t know, sorry,” Scotty says with a shrug.
Jim sits back in his seat and idly flicks through the in-flight magazine, waiting anxiously for Spock to come around with drinks. He doesn’t have to wait long when he notices Spock and another steward start walking down the aisle with the drinks cart.
Jim puts on his best smile, fixes his hair and is ready and waiting by the time they reach their row. Jim almost lets out an outraged whine when they move the cart past their row so the other steward is serving them. Jim sits up and looks behind their seats to where Spock is preparing drinks.
“Damn it,” Jim mutters under his breath. Scotty gives a loud snort at his misfortune as he loudly opens a little packet of cheese snacks the steward handed him.
“Why you so interested in him?” Scotty asks round a mouthful of chips.
“Well, at first it was because he was super hot, but now I’m just intrigued by him, I guess. I can’t really explain it, there’s just something about him.”
“He’s a nice enough guy, but I don’t think you two would suit somehow. You seem… lively and spontaneous. Spock likes routine when he manages to get it with his odd schedule.”
Jim sighs with disappointment and before he knows it, his ears are popping as they start the descent into Atlanta.
As he walks off the plane and into the air conditioned terminal, he turns on his phone and sends his friend Gaila a text, asking for a favour.
Flight 3: LAX to NRT
Jim smiles to himself as he stands in line at security. McCoy is in front of him, taking off his shoes and jacket. He’d spent a lot of time persuading Teresa, who deals with organizing business trips back at the office, that they just had to get this flight because it was the most convenient. It was a lie considering they had to wake up at ass o’clock that morning and were going to arrive in Tokyo six hours earlier than they needed to. All in all though, it was going to be worth it.
“What’s got you so happy?” McCoy asks back at him as he puts his hand luggage on the small conveyor belt.
“Nothing,” Jim comments secretively, shrugging off his own jacket.
They make their way through security quickly and head straight to their gate, Jim’s pace slightly faster than McCoy’s.
McCoy stops abruptly when they reach the gate and he whirls around to face Jim, his expression somewhere between amusement and weariness. “What a shock your steward is here.”
Jim’s eyes flash passed McCoy to where Spock is standing, posture straight, next to the captain of the plane who’s busy going through his phone, both of them waiting to be given the approval to board and get the plane ready.
“Oh wow, what a coincidence,” Jim says in a flat voice, his lips quirking.
“This is why I had to wake up at 5am? How the hell did you know he was on this flight?”
Jim sighs and turns to look at McCoy at an angle which allows him to keep Spock in his sights. “I had sex with this girl Gaila once. Turns out she works for the airline Spock works for, so I gave her a call and asked for a favour.” Jim reaches into his hand luggage and pulls out three sheets of paper with tables on. “And here is his work roster for the next four weeks. Awesome, huh?”
McCoy stares at him like he’s gone crazy. “Are you kidding me? You can get arrested for stalking. You’ve done some stupid shit to get laid in your time but this beats it all by miles. Let him go, Jim, before you get us both put on the no fly list.”
Jim just nods distractedly, not really listening as he watches Spock head toward the gate door.
“Uh huh, good point. Ok, so Spock is working in the business class cabin so I somehow need to get us upgraded. Gaila can’t do it because she doesn’t have privileges.”
McCoy gives a snort and huff before clearly wanting nothing more to do with the situation and going to sit down in protest. Jim just shrugs and walks over to the gate desk where two women are standing, conversing quietly.
Five minutes of flirting and complimenting later, Jim heads over to where McCoy is sitting with two new boarding passes in his hand.
“I am getting way better at this. I remember when I couldn’t even get us upgraded to Economy plus.”
“Those were the days,” McCoy mumbles under his breath as he texts quickly on his phone.
“Tell me you love me,” Jim blurts out, still grinning at his friend.
Several people nearby give them looks and McCoy shakes his head tiredly. “Go away.”
“Go on, tell me, or I’ll go and take your first class ticket, which is a complete different cabin to where I’ll be sitting, back to the desk and get one right next to where I will spend the whole flight hitting on Spock.”
McCoy’s head whips up and he takes in the seat number on the ticket, confirming what Jim’s told him. “I love you, you stupid bastard.”
Jim hands him the ticket and settles back into the sleek black chairs, his ankles crossing, as he contemplates how he’s going to go about getting Spock.
…
“So, this plane is a 777, right?”
Spock stares at him blankly from his place next to Jim’s seat, looking down at him. “Yes, it is a Boeing 777-300. It has a cruising speed of 0.84 mach, a wing span of 199 feet 11 inches, and a fuel capacity of 44, 220 gallons.”
“Uh huh,” Jim says slowly, nodding quickly. “How tall is the tail thing at the back?”
“60ft 8 inches.”
“Wow, you certainly know a lot about this plane. Tell me, what’s the width of the airplane bathroom?” Jim asks suggestively, waggling his eyebrows. “You know, how much room is there to move around?”
“I am unsure of the width but I can assure there is enough room for just you to move around,” Spock says dryly.
Jim grins. “Are you being snarky with me?”
“I do not know the meaning of that word,” Spock says, his lips quirking a fraction.
“Sure you don’t. So, I have a spare seat next to me, if you ever want a rest or a sit down, I have no problems with you occupying it.”
“That is against airline rules. Also, I do not believe I would achieve much rest with you beside me.”
Jim feels his stomach clench for a moment with excitement. “You’re totally being snarky with me. That’s kind of hot.”
“If you have no further questions, please allow me to continue with my pre-flight safety checks.”
Jim nods with a grin, and Spock hesitates, just for a fraction of a second, as his eyes fix on Jim’s mouth before he strides away.
…
“Sir, please desist from dropping your eating utensils into the aisle,” Spock says as he looms over Jim, staring pointedly at the growing collection of napkins and forks on the floor.
“Could you pick them up for me?” Jim asks, fluttering his eye lashes.
Spock blinks rapidly for a moment before letting out a small sigh, and bending down. Jim presses his seat button to recline back, giving him a perfect view of Spock’s ass as he collects the items from the floor.
“Nice,” Jim murmurs to himself, his hand just itching to reach out and lay his palm on the round ass in front of him. The only thing stopping him is the possible sexual harassment lawsuit that would probably come from it.
“Sir-”
Jim takes in a breath, deciding to just go for it. “My name is Jim Kirk. I love cooking food almost as much as I like eating it and I’m an Aries. I love cuddling, I’m fairly submissive in bed, I once hit a bird with my car and cried, and I believe that Jurassic Park is one of the best movies ever made. I like to spend my time doing extreme sports like skydiving but I can also appreciate a good book. Also, I’m a dog person, but I’m not averse to cats. Tell me about you.”
Spock stares at him for a moment, his lips parting as he takes in what Jim has said. “I did not ask you any questions.”
“I know. I’m just an upfront kind of guy.”
“I must get back to work,” Spock says, his eyes holding a moment of curiosity and fascination as he stares at Jim. Just before he walks off, he turns. “I am a cat person.”
Jim sits back in his seat and grins to himself, feeling like he’s starting to make progress, however small.
…
Jim had planned it down to the second, but taking off his sweater suggestively to reveal his t-shirt in front of Spock had phenomenally failed.
He’s standing in the middle of the aisle, swinging his arms about, sweater over his head, looking like a headless chicken.
He can’t see a thing and swings around in a semi-panic, wanting to get the sweater off the whole way. He bashes his arms into the overhead bins twice before someone takes pity on him and pulls his sweater fully over his head.
Jim stands up straight and comes face to face with Spock, who’s got his sweater clutched in one hand. Spock looks somewhere between finding the situation funny and worrying over Jim’s mental health.
“Thanks,” Jim says, blushing deeply as he takes the sweater from Spock’s outstretched hand. “That wasn’t very smooth, was it?” Jim says, rubbing the back of his neck.
There’s silence as an answer and Jim looks up to find that Spock is staring at his red cheeks with fascination. Under Spock’s gaze, Jim flushes with embarrassment even more, his whole face becoming hot. Spock’s mouth opens slightly, his eyes taking in Jim’s face slowly, like he can’t look away.
“Fascinating,” Spock murmurs quietly.
Jim’s face transforms in to a smirk when he realises he’s being checked out. “Like what you see?”
Spock’s face snaps back into blank professionalism and he swivels around at once, walking off down the aisle quickly.
Jim settles back into his seat, adjusting his t-shirt slightly. “Oh, it is on.”
…
“Could you get me a blanket from the overhead bin?” Jim asks casually, sitting back lazily in his seat. He’s hoping Spock’s uniform will ride up and maybe display a nice peek of skin.
Spock reaches up to fulfil Jim’s request but no skin is seen. It’s not a complete waste of time however when Spock’s crotch is almost in his face. Jim stares at the bulge in the black pants as Spock moves things about in the overhead bin to get to a blanket. He can barely take his eyes of the teasing sight of the vague outline of Spock’s dick.
“Here,” Spock says, handing a blanket to Jim.
Jim’s eyes remain fixed on Spock’s crotch area, like he’s entranced by it.
“My eyes are up here, sir,” Spock says dryly before walking off.
Jim puts the blanket across his lap, hiding the bulge in his own pants.
Spock avoids him for the rest of the flight like he’s afraid of what Jim will do next.
He shoots him a smile when he leaves the plane and finds that Spock is looking at him with curiosity. Jim smiles.
Flight 188: CLT to SAN
“You ever joined the mile high club?” Jim asks Spock, ignoring the huff from McCoy beside him as they sit on the plane, the engines loud as they level out at a cruising altitude.
Spock looks at him from where he’s stood next to Jim’s seat. “I know you are referring to sexual intercourse within an airplane bathroom. However, at a mile high, all passengers should be in their seats as it would be during the ascent or descent.”
“So, it should be called the six or seven mile high club?”
“Perhaps, yes. However, you should remember the likelihood of serious injury whilst attempting coitus within such a confined space is extremely high.”
Jim cocks his head to the side with a knowing smirk. “You talking from experience?”
“That is none of your concern,” Spock says stiffly and walks away, not letting Jim get another word in.
“Oh my god, Spock’s a member of the mile high club. He just went from super hot to marriage material in one sentence.”
McCoy’s head snaps up to look at him, eyes shocked. “Did you just use the ‘m’ word to refer to a guy? Goddamn, Jim. I better get my tux out ready.”
“Calm yourself. He might not even like me. Although, I’ve been pretty persistent.”
“Understatement of the millennia,” McCoy mumbles under his breath.
Part 2