The following story contains: harsh language and explicit sexual relations between two men. If this ain't your cup o' tea, hit delete now.
You have been warned.
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Title: Heads, I win
Author: Gen X (genxer88@h...)
Rating: NC-17, for sex and language
Genre: Slash / Guinnessverse
Disclaimer: Not mine, no money, don't sue.
Feedback: Sure, why not.
Story Synopsis: A thinly disguised PWP, Roy's bored on an airplane and Dick finds something for them to do.
Dedication: This one goes out to Reccea who made me become a Roy fangirl. Welcome back! Thank you for letting me play in your sandbox. This'll give you something to talk about in the Luv Shack, now please... please... I wrote, I posted, please... take back your slash fictives! :-p
Author Notes: Author not responsible for any connotations reader may have about quote or title, your minds are your own ;-) . Set in the future of Guinness (since the boys are currently, achem, researching). Unbeta'd so any mistakes are my own.
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"Da Vinci designed the first flying machine: the airscrew! With my own modifications to the Da Vinci plan, this baby will fly."
"Egad! Brilliant Brain... Oh no, no wait, if we were meant to fly, we would have been born with little bags of nuts."
"Pinky, you are a little bag of nuts."
-- Pinky and the Brain on the concept of flight
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Flying was so fucking boring.
Especially coach. Coach had the bad seating and the cheap food, while first class got everything. Flying took forever too. Flying was nothing compared to the crowd that I ran with. You know, the standard hot looking chicks that can run faster than the speed of sound, and then we have a handful that can actually fly. In comparison, a 747, going God-knows-how-fast, was nothing. We might as well been walking back to New York.
There was nothing to do on the plane. I mean, I couldn't really get target practice done at 30,000 feet. Well, at least, not in an enclosed and pressurized space. I'd already skimmed through the copy of 'Sports Illustrated' that I'd bought at the last terminal. I was just lucky my traveling companion was such a great conversationalist.
I turned to my left, and just as expected, Dick Grayson was resting comfortably in his seat. He was leaning back in the seat. He looked so serene with his eyes closed. The headphones he wore chirped out the audio track to the in flight movie, last summer's blockbuster.
I'd seen it. It sucked. I was jealous of him. No matter what the setting, Dick's always been at ease soaring through the air. The bastard. I supposed, I could have always watched, or as Robbie was doing, listened to the movie. He even had the window seat and he wasn't even putting it to good use. What a waste. I decided succumbing to Hollywood would just be too easy. Instead I begged the stewardes—er... flight attendant for some complementary munchies. Peanuts, crackers, whatever.
Did I mention that airline food sucked too?
I was relieved that this was the last leg of the trip, no more layovers, just a nice direct route home. I was eagerly counting the minutes until I could get away from the sterilized packages of peanuts and bad beer. But right now, I'd have settled for putting an arrow right between the eyes of the seven year old brat that kept kicking the back of my seat. I had passed my breaking point ten minutes ago.
I started to turn around to say something, but Dick put a hand on my thigh and stopped me. "Don't even think about it Roy. He's just a kid."
" 'Bout time you joined the land of the living," I retorted. Okay, it sounded harsher than I intended, especially because today had been pretty good.
Hell, the whole week had been great. We had a little reunion with the Titans West, or Titans L.A., or whatever the hell they were calling themselves now. It was a nice break, although if you ask me, Bette Kane's still crushing on my boy. Still, I couldn't argue with a week on the beach. And I really couldn't blame her.
Jesse Quick, just another Titan with money and infatuation with Grayson, had had a corporate jet scheduled to fly us to and from. It had flown the team out, but then some glitch or some emergency or some something, had left us in lurch. She was embarrassed, and scrambled to get last minute seating on commercial flights. Two of the tickets were on a different flight, and not even first class to boot.
Dick had offered to take one. It didn't matter to him whether he was on Flight 165 direct or Flight 96. Jesse had politely offered to stay behind with him. Okay, no, she had damn near insisted. I could easily read the opportunist look on her face, and if she had looked at mine, she would have clearly seen, "Back off."
Dick tried to tell her not to worry and that he really didn't mind, but sometimes he could be too damn polite. So I stepped in. Arsenal to the rescue! Jess and I ended up flipping for it, and for some strange reason she didn't trust me to toss. So Dick got the honors and she called it in the air. I'm still wondering how Dick managed to get 'tails' out of the double-sided quarter I gave him.
Jesse pouted, but Dick told her not to worry he had 'good ol' Harper' to keep him company. It wasn't until after we got on the plane that he gave me a double-sided coin, with tails on both sides, as opposed to mine, which had heads. It still doesn't explain how he knew what she was going to call, but I was willing to let that slide.
But by this time, I was resisting the urge to say, "I could have been home by now." Dick was barely talking and his order to behave was one of the few sentences he had said that had more than three words. Maybe, I was just a tad bit peevish.
If Dick noticed, he didn't say anything. He sighed and looked at me as I flopped back in my seat, scowling. Dick removed the headphones and turned around to talk to the lady in the seat behind him, the kid's mother, most likely. Due to his natural charisma, his short talk resulted in some very stern parental words from mother to child and blissfully, the kicking stopped.
"Thanks," I said as he turned back around. Now, I was feeling like a jerk.
"You're welcome," he said. Just as I was about to make another statement and start a conversation, he put the fucking headphones back on.
Oh, screw this. I put down the serving tray and took Dick's trick quarter out of my pocket. I flipped it up to the roof of the cabin. It hit the overhead light, then angled down to hit low on the back of the seat in front of me, and then, voila, it landed in the indent for the cup holder on the fold down tray. Bang, thump, clink.
I tossed it up, duplicating the pattern. Bang, thump, clink. And again. I'd kill for a stupid '101 Fun Things To Do' book or at very least a terrorist takeover. Bang, thump, clink. The quarter was leaving a little silver streak on the light as it hit the same spot each time. Bang, thump, clink. Bang--
Dick snatched it in midair. He put it in his pocket with me glaring along with each movement. Finally, he sighed and pulled off the headphones. "Pick a topic Roy, any topic."
Hmmm... after spending seven days with him, he knew everything that was going on in my life, and he knew everything interesting and adorable about Lian. We couldn't talk shop on the airplane either. I'd already bitched about Bette and Jesse. There had to be something. I just couldn't think of it at the moment.
"Can I have *my* quarter back?" He pulled it from his pocket. He flipped it up. It hit the light, bang. It flipped off and arced towards the back of the seat in front of me, thump. And with a clink, it landed in the tray. What a show off. Then I got an idea. He had said anything.
I grinned devilishly, "Ever hear of a mile high club?"
"Of course," he said casually. A slightly raised eyebrow was the only indication that that train of thought had been unexpected. "I'm a member."
"Oh." That was not the reaction I had banked on. "Never mind then."
"Why do you ask?" He was prying, prodding, insisting, being the detective I knew so well. When I didn't answer he looked hard into my eyes. It was the same gaze that made me feel guilty and uncomfortable when I was a kid. Hell, it even worked when I didn't have anything to feel guilty and uncomfortable about. I was lucky this time; he broke the stare first.
"No reason," I said, as I searched my brain for another topic.
"What about you?" His blue eyes met mine again. Damn.
"What about me?"
"Are you a member?" He sounded so damn matter of fact about it all. I scoffed and shook my head. "Well, we can fix that."
Abruptly, he snapped the serving tray up and my quarter fell to the floor. He stood and brushed past me. I turned my head and watched as he headed to the back of the plane. Where the hell was he going? Dick had paused in the aisle, and had turned to looked at me. His eyes darted towards the back of the plane, and he cocked his head slightly. To me, the gesture couldn't have been more blatant if he'd screamed it at the top of his lungs.
No need to ask me twice. I was out of my seat and headed towards the bathroom in no time. I did pause for a moment to glare at the kid behind me. He stuck his tongue out at me. Little punk. Hell, with luck like mine, Lian'll grow up to marry one exactly like him.
The plane was near full. A retirement group took up a third of the seating. A bunch of Japanese exchange students were tittering on the far side of the plane. Who knew Snoopy and that damn yellow bird could be so amusing? The rest of the plane is filled with run of the mill folk. A few teens with hard rock blaring from their Discmans, middle aged women reading fashion mags. When I finally got to the back of the plane, Robbie had somehow managed to disappear.
A young couple was seated at the back of the plane. On the trays between them they had brochures of Paris. 'Eiffel tower tours! Now for a low low price.' The woman looked up at me strangely, after I had been standing there for a few immobile moments. What's wrong babe? I thought at her. Never seen a guy wonder which occupied stall to walk into? I scoffed. Like she's never had that problem. I gave her the patent-pending heartbreaker Harper smile. She flushed and looked away. Oh, well, I was going to have more interesting things to stare at.
Eanie, Meanie, Minie, Mo...Catch a Titan by the toe. I was deciding which door to knock at when one swung open. Dick stood in the doorframe of the middle restroom. A-ha! I found him on the first try. I moved forward to enter the enclosed space.
The door didn't even shut fully before we were locked in a bruising kiss.
"Better than talking?" Dick asked, his light eyes dark with lust.
"Hell yes." We maneuvered in what little space we had. There was a toilet opposite the doorway, and to the right, a mirror and a counter about three inches wide. And I thought outhouses sucked for space. Then again, you don't cram two people into them. Just like you shouldn't cram two people in airplane bathrooms.
"Damn, Dick, this is a tight fit," I said in the random moments when we broke for air. "How'd you ever pull this one off?"
He lowered his hand and pulled up the bottom of my shirt. "I wasn't in a plane," he replied as his hands fumbled with my jeans. Okay, now I'm not sure that I want to know where the hell he was. His head was titled downward and managed to move us in the enclosed space. I gasped as he maneuvered me against the mirror. Dick paused his wandering and looked at me inquisitively.
"Counter," I managed to say by ways of explanation. The damn thing was digging into my lower back. Dick gave a short obnoxious scoff but his hands renewed their explorations, so he was instantly forgiven. I gasped again, damn! That felt good. He lifted his head and nipped an ear. He kissed me again, pushing me back into the wall. Screw the counter, for this, I could deal.
By this point I was aroused in a not so subtle way. I managed to disentangle one of my hands that had snaked its way up Dick's shirt and tend to the problem. Dick, somehow, must have sensed what I was doing because he pushed my hand aside and suddenly he leaned down, sitting on the toilet. His dark locks fell forward as he leaned his head down and...
...
Damn! Coherent thought was the last thing on my mind. His tongue swirled around the tip of my cock as his lips closed around the head. I moaned loudly wanting more of that touch. He pulled away and stood up, our eyes meeting as he did so. He pressed a finger to my lips, indicating that I should be quiet. I resisted the temptation to roll my eyes. Dick must have seen something in my face, because I got a slight stare down. His hand went down to stroke me. His firm hand grasped my cock. I moaned again, this time softer.
He smiled at that and started lick his way down my chest, unbuttoning my shirt as he went. I nodded in acquiescence hoping I'd be able to keep grunts and moans to a minimum. Not that I really cared if somebody got an earful, but Dick apparently did.
His mouth finally descended back where my other head thought it should belong. His tongue swirled around teasingly, as he took almost the entire length. Unbidden, my hands reached down and entangled in his hair. It ended too soon, as it almost always does, at least in my opinion. Still, I had nothing to complain about.
Afterwards, my knees were weak and rightfully so. I stood there breathing heavily, clothing mussed, simply enjoying the afterglow. Dick ran a hand through his tousled hair, magically setting it back into place. He tucked my cock back into my pants as I watched, too drained to do anything. He zipped my fly and pet my crotch then walked out of the bathroom, leaving me there.
It took a while for my brain to start back up and when it did it was vicious. I dumbly watched as Dick walked casually down the aisle, leaving me alone. What the fuck was that? Discreet I can dig, but what's this shit? I buttoned my shirt, and did a quick mirror check. I ran my fingers through my hair, and judging from my reflection, it had no effect. I stalked back to my seat feeling dismissed. Roy's happy now; I can leave.
"Where the hell do you get off?" I asked unceremoniously as I plopped down in my seat. There's a thing or two about tact I still have yet to learn. Dick's eyes widened as he was momentarily taken aback. Rather than be angry or defensive, his mouth quirked into something akin to a smile.
"You didn't just say that did you?"
Say what? What the heck was he talking ab-- oh. I got it: a pun. Yeah, I guess it was sort of funny. I almost smiled until I reminded myself what state of mind I had convinced myself I should be in. Angry. Grr. I wiped the amusement from my face, watching as Dick's cheerful visage fell away as well.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
Aw, screw it, I decided, not worth it anyways. "Never mind. Forget I said anything." His concerned eyes cast upon me and I did my darndest to avoid the gaze.
"Roy..." he started, in that fucking voice. The tone that's halfway in between warning and patience. I flipped the headphones at him. He caught them easily, as if he had plucked them hovering in midair; his eyes never left mine.
"I hear it's a good movie, wouldn't want you to miss it."
His eyes darkened and I could tell he got it. Not that I was going for subtle or anything. "Oh, for chrissake Roy, what are you? Two? Do you have to be entertained every second?"
"Entertained? More like distracted. You don't feel like talking, so you expect that to tide me over huh? That's your idea."
That's when he started laughing. I thought to myself, if he said I looked cute when I was angry, I was going to flip out.
"That was your idea!" he blurted out. He continued on in a patient fashion without the patronizing undertones I had been reading into. "Besides, I'm not the one that slept most of the way from Los Angeles to Chicago. Or did you forget about that?" I shifted uncomfortably. "Do you think it's fun watching you sleep? You know you snore, man," he chided lightly.
"Um... sorry?" I offered, not really knowing how to apologize.
"Nah, forget it. So are we good?"
"We're good," I affirmed.
And I felt that way too. That was, until, I felt a kick at the back of my chair. Son of a bitch! I whirled around. The kid's mom was sleeping. The kid was playing with the quarter I had dropped, all the while kicking to some strange beat only he could hear. Dick was about to do something but I stopped him. I could handle this. I grabbed the magazine, rolling it quickly, and turned around.
"Don't hit him with th--"
"I'm not going to hit him, would you relax for once? Go watch a movie or something."
Dick snorted in amusement and watched to see how the confrontation would play out. He shouldn't have worried. I ended up bribing the kid. It wasn't the 'you stop that if you know what's good for you' type bribing either. I sold him my magazine for a quarter; it was worth it since it also buys at least ten minutes of kick-free time.
I turned back to Dick. I held up the quarter between my middle finger and my thumb; I rolled it back and forth absentmindedly. It wasn't even mine, just an ordinary coin. Mine, was probably under someone's seat next to stale food that had been dropped four months earlier. I twirled the coin around once to show off it's legitimacy. "So what do you think? Heads, we have a nice relaxing remaining flight?"
"And what happens on tails?"
"I dunno. We'll decide if it that happens."
"Sounds good to me." He plucked the quarter from my grasp and flipped it up in the air. It hit off the overhead compartment and neither of us made a move to catch it. It bounced off and hit another seat before rolling into the aisle.
We didn't even bother to see where it ended up.
We didn't need to.
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