Louis' POV:

I must've fallen asleep part way through the movie, because Harry taps my arm lightly and I open my eyes groggily. I didn't sleep much last night because I was excited for today, and I feel like I'm barely away.

"Louis," Harry whispers, continuing to tap my arm as I stir in our bed.

"Hmm?" I rub my eyes, clearing my vision. I can see him lying on my chest, and I must've fallen asleep underneath him. Not a bad way to spend my nap, if I do say so myself.

"I wanted to tell you that I've never joined any school clubs before," I'm not sure if this was worthy of waking me up, but I don't mind.

I faintly remember talking about how Harry managed going to so many different schools every time he changed foster families as we watched the movie before I fell asleep.

I peer up at his bright and grinning face. "I'm sorry to hear that, babe. After school clubs can be loads of fun. Once I was in a space club and we looked through telescopes and stuff. But why the mention of school clubs?"

He leans down, his lips grazing my right ear ever so gently as he whispers, "Because I want to join the Mile High Club."

Well, shit. Now I'm awake.

"Harry!" I whisper-shout in return, more so a natural reaction as opposed to a rejection.

He continues to grin innocently as if he didn't just tell me he wanted to have sex on a plane. "What?" He shrugs, batting his illegally beautiful eyelashes.

"How'd you even think of such a thing? We're supposed to be flying to America to see your parents,"

"Well, for one, it's just you and I. And we just so happen to have this luxurious bed underneath us..."

I raise an eyebrow. "Is there more to this sudden desire?" Please, Harry, do go on.

"Well," He hooks one finger around my waistband, but doesn't make an immediate effort to pull it down as he looks back at me. "You we're sort of... while you were sleeping..."

I shoot him a confused expression. He's not making much sense, nor is he forming a complete thought. I notice his cheeks have gone bright red with blush, and get increasingly curious. "Spit it out, love."

"Youweregrindingagainstmeinyoursleepandmoaningmynameatthesametimeandnowimhard." He says so quickly I barely pick up on it.

Wait, I what?!

"You're fucking with me, aren't you?" Harry shakes his head no.

My eyes can't help but dart down to his pants (which are noticeably tighter than before, not that I was staring earlier. I would never do such a thing, give me a break) and then look at my own.

Looks like Harry isn't the only one with a raging boner.

I honestly don't know whether to feel turned on or embarrassed. After a quick consideration, I wisely chose the first choice.

Harry's finger remains hooked on my waistband, and I motion at it. "Are we just going to sit here and talk about the fact that we're both hard and horny, or should we do something about it?" I grin, and at that, switch positions with Harry so I'm laying on top of him.

My lips quickly press themselves against his in a hot and needy kiss as we shimmy out of our pants. The flight won't last much longer, so might as well get on with things while we can.

"Do something about it," Harry groans mid-kiss, "We should definitely do something about it."

"Just make sure to keep quiet, we are on a plane after all," I warn in a whisper, adrenaline running through my veins.

"Then keep me quiet, Lou," He tells me slowly as his hands find their way under my jumper, tweaking one nipple and then the other. For (unfortunately) never being overly intimate with Harry before, he sure knows how to make me feel good. Good boy.

I squirm with repressed pleasure, trying not to give in too soon. I bite my lip to refrain from moaning so loud the whole plane could hear me.

According to the airline's website, the movie they were showing today was 'Old Yeller', not 'Louis gets blown off by his boyfriend and moans obscenely like a porn star the whole time'.

No need to give the passengers a show they didn't pay for.

Before I have a chance to say anything even remotely hot, Harry's sucked a mark on to my left inner thigh and does the same for my right as he used his hand in ways that should be illegal. Needless to say, the noises that leak from my mouth speak for themselves. No words needed.

I grip onto Harry's curls as he diverts his attention to my painfully hard dick, licking and teasing like he's done this a million times. I accidentally tug his hair a bit too hard when his teeth graze my slit, but his moan in response tells me all I need to know.

I watch, glassy eyes and flushes as Harry gives me one final kiss and looks up at me with deep green eyes before slowly lowering his head down, down, down. And oh my god does it feel good.

I grab about momentarily, trying to find something to hold on to as Harry works his god-given magic on me. I've never experienced a good blow job before (my sincerest apologies to Zayn and Liam, who offered to give me platonic head when I was closeted and sexually frustrated, but Harry is way better at this) and it's a complete sensory overload.

In fact, I'm so caught up in the fact that Harry's somehow deepthroating me without gagging that I don't even notice the footsteps in the aisle approaching us, nor the friendly knock and opening of the little door to our humble-not-so-humble plane suite.

"Hello, sir. Would you like something to dri- holy SHIT," A woman gasps in the aisle and begins to stutter as my head whips in her direction, my whole body going rigid. Harry pulls himself off of me, a string of saliva connecting his bottom lip to my dick as he looks up as well.

"Oh- Um, I'm so sorry, uh," She stutters, the little plastic cup with soda in her hand shaking so much it just might spill all over her uniform. I read her name tag, and realize it's the same flight attendant from when we boarded the flight, Emily.

"Yes?" Harry asks nonchalantly.

Emily quickly tries to calm down, putting down the cup on her little cart and smoothing her skirt to look as composed as one could be. "You're passengers on a public flight, what are you two doing?"

"Nothing, I'm so sorry. This won't happen again," I apologize quickly, as Harry responds at the same time with, "Giving my boyfriend a blowjob because I can, what else would I be doing?"

"Harry," I hiss, trying to pull my pants up as quickly as possible, and doing anything in my power not to make eye contact with Emily.

"What? She asked, and that's what we were doing. I mean, it's pretty obvious we weren't sitting around and doing crossword puzzles. No one moans while doing those things,"

My cheeks burn red, as Emily clears her throat. "Public indecency isn't allowed on this flight," She tells us curtly, and her eyes dart around the cabin as well, avoiding us.

I look over at Harry, who's grinning and looks like he just got a pile of money for Christmas, completely unashamed that we just got caught. His hair is disheveled, his lips are puffy, and yet he still manages to look like sex on legs.

"That's my bad ma'am, I'm sorry," He says somewhat insincerely, wiping away the saliva on his mouth. "I promise next time I give him head it won't be on this plane, I'll wait 'till we're somewhere more private, yeah?"

She purses her lips, giving us a single and somewhat concerned glance before nodding and walking away.

Well, looks like that means no little cups of soda for us. Bummer.

"Oh my god, that was so embarrassing," I bust my face in a nearby pillow as Harry laughs.

"It was pretty fun if you ask me. Did you see the look on her face?" He snorts, falling on top of me, "It was priceless!"

"What do we do now?" I groan. It's no secret we still have our boners. Ask Emily, she knows.

"Whip one out in the bathroom, I guess." Harry shrugs.

"How romantic," I deadpan, disappointed that our first time doing anything sexual of sorts ended with a total cockblock.

"Aw, c'mon Lou," Harry doesn't break eye contact as he palms me casually through my jeans, once, twice, three times. "It was just one blowjob, don't worry about it. After all, we have a whole hotel room to ourselves for the next 8 days. So... you know... we'll definitely make it up."

I grumble, trying to hide my smile as Harry hugs me around the waist and I give in. "Fine, but only because you give good head," I tell him stubbornly.

"And because you loveeeee me," He taunts in a sing-songy voice.

Yeah, Harry, maybe I do.

I roll my eyes jokingly and get up, only to pick up his pants and throw them at him. "Put these on."

"Why? You don't like me ass-naked for you?" He whispers.

"No dumbass, because we're going to the bathroom." I tug his arm as he pulls up his pants and joins me.

We leave the aisle and walk down to the bathroom in the first-class cabin together (which is surprisingly spacious and much more luxurious than I was expecting). I push him into it before taking a quick look around to make sure no one's looking before stepping inside and closing and locking the door behind us.

When I turn to Harry, who's conveniently shimmied out of his pants once again, there's no hesitation on my end.

"Welcome to the Mile High Club, babe." I say, before dropping to my knees in front of him.

✰ ✰ ✰

Harry's POV:

Our flight lands and everything goes smoothly after that as Louis and I navigate through the airport together.

Our flight was amazing, obviously, and we're both grinning from ear to ear as we head to the exit gates in the airport. My shirt may or may not have gotten ripped a bit during the blowies (don't even ask how, I'm not one to blow and tell) but I'll chalk it up to a Mile High Club souvenir. If anyone asks, I snagged it on something sharp by accident and it ripped.

"We collect our suitcases from the round conveyor belt of luggage and stop for milkshakes and burgers at one of the restaurants - Shake Shack - that we walked by. If this is any representation of how Americans eat every day, I don't know how some of them are so skinny.

We follow the flow of people on our flight to the exit, where loads of people and taxi drivers are holding up all sorts of signs in search of passengers. We walk past all of this all because we planned to flag down a taxi when we get outside (like they do in the movies).

But I stop dead in my tracks and poor Louis almost runs smack into me as I stop and stare at one sign. 'Harry and Louis'.

Standing there and holding up a neatly made sign, I see my parents. My parents, not someone else's family or someone else's parents. Not some pair of strangers who agreed to house me for a few months. Not any of that.

My parents.

***

ignore the spelling i wrote this in my anatomy class :0

Thoughts or comments?

VOTE bc the kid sitting next to me in class saw the super hot manip i put in the working text and i DIED