"Phone chargers?"

"Check."

"Rain emergency kit? Jackets, boots, umbrellas?"

"Check check."

"Toiletries?"

"...what the hell are toiletries?"

"Bathroom stuff. Toothbrushes, toilet paper, towels?"

"Oh yeah, yeah we got that packed. Check."

"Medicines? Did you get the pills for your butt?"

The man across from us in the aisle snorted. I gave Jordan a death glare and he grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, just making sure."

"You didn't nave to announce it to the whole damn plane."

"I didn't announce it, I just said it a little too loudly. Did you get them though?"

"Yeah, I got my ass pills. Did you get your constipation meds?"

A girl behind us snickered quietly. Jordan slapped me on the arm, hard. "You suck," he growled. "I don't even have constipation meds."

"You might need 'em though, since your ass is so tigh-"

"Thomas Cassell, I will not hesitate to chuck you off this plane if you finish that sentence."
I closed my mouth, but finished the sentence inside my head. It was pretty funny if you asked me.

Jordans face was red as he sat in his seat with his eyes closed determinedly. I couldn't help the words that tumbled out of my mouth upon thinking of them.

"I could loosen it up for ya if you wanted," I mumbled to myself. He heard, unfortunately. Which resulted in a painful punch to the balls.

I couldn't speak, move, or do much of anything really for a whole hour. Jordan's anger maybe lasted fifteen minutes after he punched me, but then he softened up, and the apologies were constant throughout the remaining 45 minutes. Although I assured him each time I deserved the punch, it did not silence him in the least. He looked on the verge of tears when I didn't assure him for the 106th time he apologized. I shot him a glare that said don't you fucking dare start crying over my bruised balls, but it had no effect. He burst into tears and did not stop for a good portion of the plane ride, and I was sent looks of mixed hatred and disgust as I tried to half heartedly get him to shut up.

He was emotional, I understood. He'd had a tough week, I understood that. He's on the edge of mentally shutting down because of his past, I understood all of that. I kept telling myself these things as I ignored the glares in my direction and continued to comfort the sobbing grown man clinging to my shoulder.

London. Yay.

When he finally calmed down, we watched a movie. He'd gotten first class tickets and so the backs of the seats had screens in them and we could pick any movie we wanted, as long as it was on Netflix. I wanted to watch a new horror movie that had just been added. He wanted to watch a romantic comedy that had been in the venue for months now. And although he insisted we do what I wanted to do, halfway through the horror movie he was hiding in my shoulder and silently crying. We ended up watching the lame rom com and falling asleep after the first five minutes.

Two hours down, five hours to go on our flight. Jordan has cried twice now and is on the verge of doing it again because the stewardess was out of his favorite peanuts. The passengers are either A: Hating our guts and sending us death glares, B: Ignoring us with constipated looks on their faces, or C: Laughing at us silently from behind theirs books or phones.

A girl sitting behind me was trying her best to help out by leaning close to my chair and whispering advice. Some of it worked, some of it flunked. Once, she slipped me some chocolate through a narrow space in the seat and I gave it to Jordan, which shut him up for at least half an hour. Then as we were watching a particular scene in the rom com, I could see him showing signs of starting again.

"Compliment him," the girl whispered quickly.

"Jordan, you look way cuter than that guy." I pointed at the main male character in the movie. Jordan smiled a little.

"Elaborate, he doesn't believe you," the girl whispered again.

"I mean it," I told him. "Your hair is way better than his, it's shit compared to yours. Shoulda casted you in this movie instead. Would've been more enjoyable."

That cleared the tears away and even earned me a nuzzle in the shoulder with his nose. Thank god for this chick behind me, she must be physic or something.

"Kiss his nose," she encouraged. I did. Jordan giggled cutely. I really wanted to hug this girl.
Jordan fell asleep again eventually. I took the opportunity to whisper a quick thank you to the girl sitting behind me.

"I accept checks, but prefer cash," she snorted. "Jordan having a rough day or is he always like this?"

"Rough week, usually he's quiet and not on his period. Oh wait, shit I didn't mean to offend you or anything. I forgot girls hate periods jokes."

"Eh, vaginas are funny. I take no offense. What's your name stranger?"

"Tom. Yours?"

A hand slipped through the narrow space in the seats. "Grace. Nice to meet you."

I shook the random hand. "Same here. So why are you going to London?"

The hand slowly contracted back to its owner. "Convention. You?"

"Oh same, I'm going with this guy. You traveling with anybody?"

"Just this loser who won't even talk to me. Put his head phones on the first five minutes after we got on and passed out. And he says I'm the bad friend..."

I tried my best to see the guy beside her, but the only thing I could relatively make out was a head of blonde hair laying on a slim shoulder. I guessed the shoulder was the girl I'd been talking to.

"Does the loser friend have a name?" I asked jokingly.

"It's Tyler," a new voice chimed in, "and I am the bestest friend you ungrateful ho."

"You bitch!" I heard Grace call the guy. "I thought you were asleep this whole time!"

"I'll have you know I was resting beautifully until you woke me up with your bad advice whispering. Did the little twink ever calm down or did you make things worse?"

...twink?

"The little twink's boyfriend can hear you," Grace scolded. "And yes, I helped him calm down. So suck it."

Boyfriend? "Um, we're not togeth-" But Tyler interrupted me before I could finish.

"I have nothing to suck, you have a vagina and I am gayer than Magic Mike the Musical."

"There was never a musical...I would've seen it."

"Maybe they banned Grace Helbigs from the show and praised Tyler Oakleys."

"Maybe they banned straight people."

"Serves you right. Straights are whack."

"You're being heterophobic and rude."

"I'm always heterophobic but why you calling me rude?"

"Because you cut off Tom."

"Who's Tom?"

"The twink's boyfriend."

"Oh! My bad cutie, carry on."

I didn't know what to say at this point. These people weren't like anyone I'd ever communicated with before, they were using words I'd never heard of, and their humor was strange and wildly offensive. "Jordan's not my boyfriend. And what the hell is a twink?"

"Slang for cute petite guy," Tyler informed me. "And oh my god, why aren't you together? You're like, the cutest little pair of people I've ever seen. Why aren't you hitting that?"

I had to think about it. Why aren't I hitting that? I should be.

"I'm thinking of making my move in London, maybe somewhere romantic. I don't know. I just hope he says yes after all of this..."

"He better," Tyler replied sassily. "Or else I'm coming after that booty."

Did he just hit on me? Or Jordan? And should I be angry?

"Can you control your gay for five seconds?" Grace asked.

Tyler just giggled. "Tried that once, accidentally came out of the closet. Anyway, back to the twink and jock. Y'all are gonna date, I know it. My gay senses never lie."

"You're sure?" He sounded confident. Is it weird to say I actually trusted the guy even though I'd just met him?

"Positive. Though I'd ask him when he's over his man period, save it for when he's in a good mood. What's got him on his monthly, anyway?"

I didn't want to tell him Jordan's life story, so I cut it short and told him somebody did something to him, causing a pretty nasty memory about his ex to pop up and make him miserable. Tyler made a noise that, from what I could tell, sounded like he knew what that felt like. "He was abusive, wasn't he? No wonder the poor little twink's crying so much, I hate remembering that shit. Graaace, give me some chocolate."

"You've...you've had an abusive boyfriend before?" Maybe he knows some stuff that could help Jordan.

"Mmmhm," Tyler replied with what sounded like a mouthful of chocolate.

"Could you, like, tell me stuff to help him out of this? Because I have no idea what to do." Comforting him only worked a portion of the time, ignoring him made him twice as bad, and trying to solve the problem with medical help made things a bajillion times worse. I felt useless in trying to help him out of the dark hole he'd been pushed back into.

"Let's see...Kay, for me, this is what I didn't want people to do. Tell me I need some bitchy therapist tellin' me what to do, act like a bitchy therapist and tell me what I can and can't do, and oh my god I wanted to stab anyone who tried to solve my situation by telling me quotes they stole off the internet. Like, that is the worst way to comfort somebody. Quotin' Shakespeare ain't gonna help me get over my damn depression. Just give me chocolate."

It was official: Tyler was the sassiest person I'd ever met. And the most honest one, at that. I took his advice in mind and promised myself not to do those things to Jordan.

"But everybody's different," he continued. "Twink could have a different set of rules than me, and different preferences. Just ask what you can do to help, do what he says, and hope for the best."

"And buy him lots of chocolate!" Grace chimed in.

"Ya, lots," Tyler agreed.

"Lots," I repeated. "I will get him lots."

The rest of the plane ride consisted of a sleeping Jordan clinging to my arm while I listened sleepily to Grace and Tyler's petty arguments over topics I never knew even existed. They were certainly the most interesting people I'd ever met. I reminded myself that I needed to create a tumblr when I got to the nearest computer. It was the center of all the arguments they'd had so far, and I really wanted to see if this one website could cause this much shit storming.

"-and therefore, you cannot be heterophobic. It's like the whole reverse racism thing all over again. You can discriminate and hate, but heterophobia does not exist because the long history of abuse and torment for them does not exist. Boom. Your argument, bitch." This seemed to be Tyler's nickname for Grace, and she didn't seem to mind one bit.

Grace sighed loudly, as if she were tired of the conversation. "Okay...so if straights hate gays, it's homophobia. If gays hate straights, it's not heterophobia? You're messing me up mentally."

"Need I explain the whole history of gay abuse and discrimination again?"

"Please no, I'd rather not hear about how our ancestors suck camel balls."

"Mh. Same. But yeah, I'm right."

"I have my opinion, you have yours. That is what makes us human."

"Yeah m'kay, I'll just call every internet quote ever and tell them you stole their creative work."

"Turn your sass off, I think Jordan's about to wake up because of you."

Jordan was waking up, slowly but surely. One eye opened to peek up at me, I smiled at it, and it closed back. "S'too early to be smiling..." He groaned.

"You've been asleep for four hours. Jet lag is going to destroy you. Wake up." I shook him. He hissed.

"Not everyone's a morning person like you, y'know."

"It's six in the afternoon in London, you have no excuse. Up." I shook him again. He whined in distress, clutching tighter to my arm in protest. I couldn't feel it at this point, he'd been laying on it for hours now and I feared it was going to fall off once he released me.

"Nooo...please, another five minutes?" He pleaded. Tyler cleared his throat, way too loudly mind you, but nevertheless I took the hint. Do what Jordan wants.

"Fine. Five more minutes. Cherish them well." I kissed his head. A bubbly smile appeared on his lips as he snuggled in further to my arm. I hated the stupid armrest that separated us. I wanted to cuddle him up, but the stupid thing was preventing that.

"Grace, y'know the best part about this plane?" I heard Tyler say casually.

"What is that, Tyler?" Grace answered without the same causality as Tyler.

"Removable arms rests, so I can tickle the shit out of you without anything in my way."

"That is convenient!" Grace replied way too enthusiastically.

I took the huge hint they were shoving down my throat. All I had to do surprisingly was push the arm rest backwards and it disappeared right into the space beneath the seats. Although the seat belts still got in the way a little, I was now able to hold Jordan as he slept peacefully. The rest of the flight was silent and all cuddles. It was probably my favorite part.

Jet lag did nearly kill us. We were so exhausted and gross by the time we landed, Jordan asked if we could go to the hotel and sleep all day on the first day. Though I did want to see some of the sights and do something romantic on the first day, I knew he probably wasn't that up to romance after such a long ass flight (and plus I was still trying very hard to follow Tyler's advice to do everything Jordan wanted) so I agreed. We said goodbye to Grace and Tyler and then we left the airport after retrieving our bags, hailing a cab and driving straight to the hotel.

Jordan had good taste in hotels, I'll tell you that. The place was super fancy and extremely old, like it was straight out of an old film from way back when. There were fancy bell hops, limos parked here and there, important looking people rushing in and out, the whole shabang. Jordan, though jet lagged and disoriented as hell, took the lead and managed to find our room pretty quick. He looked so cute and important with his folder full of papers and shit, it was like watching a little kid play adult. It was adorable.
"So...this room, how far away is it from everyone else who's comin' here later on?" I was worried about privacy issues. I had plans for this trip, plans I'd been working on and constructing ever since we put the trip back on. There were a lot of things I wanted to happen in our hotel room. Some, if not most of them required lots of privacy.

Jordan pulled out a slip of paper from his folder and began to talk nerdy to me. "It's approximately fifteen rooms down from the nearest person I know, and the rooms surrounding us are vacant because of cleaning and reconstruction. Nobody I know will be here for another week and as far as I can tell, hardly anyone else will be on this floor at all this week because of a business fair they've all got scheduled across the street, which takes place late at night and early in the morning. We've got a lot of privacy the first week and a lot more on the last, too. So yeah. If you've got stuff planned, now and a week from now would be a good time to do it."

His cheeks, I noticed, were tinted pink as he tucked the slip of paper back in the folder. I noticed the elevator we rode in was empty, besides us. I also noticed how cute Jordan looked in my slipknot hoodie.

"If I started making out with you, would you be alright with that?" I didn't actually ask the question aloud, but I thought it, and I really made it clear in my body language too. He had to have noticed. I'm not that much of a subtle person and he is a very noticing guy.
But he said nothing, humming the tune that was playing softly from the elevator speakers. The elevator was awfully slow. Our floor was still a long way up. I realized something after a second of thinking.

The song playing in the speakers was Kiss Me.

Ed Sheeran could not have been more clearer. I pulled the folder out of Jordan's hands and tossed it aside, pushed him close against the elevator wall, and began to do what the song was fussing about: I made out with the guy.
We hadn't kissed in awhile, and so this kiss felt almost magical. It was slow, sweet, hesitant. He seemed lost for a minute on exactly what to do, but eventually he slipped into it. I forgot how wonderful he tasted.

Ding.

The doors groaned as they opened, and so did we. Jordan pulled away and wriggled out of my grip, bending down to scoop up his folder. It was a split second decision. I swept him up in one quick movement, earning a squeal of surprise from the little nerd. "Tom! You could've dropped me!" He squeaked, clinging to my neck.

"Ah, but I didn't. Let's get to that honeymoon suite, aye?" I walked us out of the elevator and began to skip down the hallway leading to our room. Jordan huffed, but opened his folder silently and pulled out a key with a card attached to it.

"It's not a honeymoon suite and we are not married. H107 is the room number, there should be luggage guys coming up in a bit with our stuff, dinner is in an hour if you want to go downstairs or maybe we could go out and- Tom, slow down! God, let's just get room service, I'm too tired for anything else..."

We approached the door. He held out the key to unlock it for me, opened it, then tucked the key in his hoodie pocket. I jogged inside and threw him down on the bed, about jump on top of him when he laughed for me to stop. "There are people coming up here in a few minutes! Control yourself until then, pervert."

"You'll have to put a leash on meh, princess." I knelt down on the covers and tried to go in for another kiss, but was intercepted by a hand being placed firmly on my lips. I pouted into it. The owner of the hand showed no remorse, giving me an unamused look.

"No leashes or anything sexy related until the luggage guys come and go. But I appreciate the nickname."

The group of luggage guys eventually dropped off our bags (we had a lot of bags) and left ten minutes later after making sure everything was there. After that, I didn't bother to control myself. I was kissing Jordan all over as he tried with much unsuccess to order room service without messing up the order. Once or twice he smacked me for getting too close to restricted areas, but that didn't stop me from attacking him. I kept at it until he hung up angrily, slamming the old phone down on the receiver.

"You could not have controlled yourself for five more minutes? That guy probably thinks I'm mental or something, I moaned when he started listing mac and cheese options. That is mortifying, Tom."

"I'm sure lots of people moan about mac and cheese. Let me kiss you." I moved to kiss his cheek, but he stood up before I could get there.

"I have to unpack. You should do the same. Your bags are in the living room."

"We have a living room?"

"We have everything. A month is way too long to stay here without proper living arrangements. I made sure we had the same stuff at my apartment. Minus the gaming room, of course." He bent down and unzipped his luggage case while I watched him through hazy eyes.

I grinned. "Do we have a big shower?"

"Same size of the one at home..." He mumbled.
That was just what I wanted to hear. Showers were a big part of my plans for the week, thank god we had a huge one.

Jordan gasped at something and shut his case lid back on quickly. I furrowed my eyebrows. "What's wrong? Did you forget something?"

"N-No," he stuttered, standing up. "I have to pee. Um, you should go unpack your stuff. I'll be right back." He scurried off to the bathroom and shut the door, locking it behind him. The hell? What surprised him so bad in his suitcase, wasn't he the one who packed it?

I gazed over at the thing and realized quickly that it was the luggage I had packed for him, the clothes I'd stuffed in absentmindedly. Did I forget to pack something? I got all kinds of outfits, I'm sure I got most of the things he had hung up. But I was really distracted that day. Maybe I did forget something.

I couldn't help myself. I sneaked over to the luggage and unzipped it slowly, as to not make any noise. Opening the lid carefully, I peeked inside. A bright blue piece of clothing was slung on top of all the rest. This must've been what he saw. I picked it gently and examined it, seeing that there was really nothing special about it. It was just a shirt after all, a really odd looking-...and then I understood.

It was a dress. Bright blue with a white and lacy trim. The skirt at the bottom flared out slightly, and underneath was a bit of a tutu looking contraption that made the bottom of the thing kinda poof out. It was a cute dress.

But why the hell did Jordan have a dress in his closet? And how did I not notice it when I was packing?

The bathroom door began to open. I knew confrontation was about to happen no matter what, so I decided to engage it first. "Jordan? You own a dress?"

The door stood still. Then it closed abruptly again. I sighed. Taking the dress from the suitcase, I walked over to the door and knocked. "I'm not gonna laugh at you. I'm just curious. I didn't even know I packed it, I sort of rushed when I was picking out your stuff. You wanna tell me about it?"

No answer.

"You can't stay in here for three weeks, y'know. I'll die from Jordan-deprivation and you'll die of starvation."

A stifled snort. He's listening.

"Jordaaannn. Please open the door. I love you. You don't have to be shy about this."

Silence. Then the door opened a tiny bit.
"You should let me see you in it. I bet you look hot. Well, hotter than usual. I've got it right here for you wanna try it on." I held the dress in front of the crack. He huffed and his hand took it from me, before closing the door again.

I waited quietly while he changed. After a few minutes, the door cracked open again and I could hear him. "Go get my hat out of the front zipper."

I retrieved the small brown hat from the luggage and brought it back to him. "Close your eyes, okay?" He asked softly.

"Alright." I closed my eyes. The bathroom door creaked and I could hear timid footsteps approaching me while I sat on the bed. This was unknown territory. I wasn't sure what to do or how to react. I knew to be positive, but I wasn't sure what I was going to say. Ask him if he was a cross dresser? Did he prefer these clothes over his regular clothes?

"Open," he said. I opened my eyes.

I'm not sure what the number one on my Cutest Things Ever list was, but Jordan in a damn dress and hat topped whatever that was. I literally gasped out loud. He was fucking beautiful. Like, I'd never wanted to kiss him so much before. Was it even humanly possible to look so good it could kill? I felt like I was dying as I stared at him. Or maybe it was just my lungs screaming at me to breathe already. I breathed, shakily.

"Damn," was the only word I could formulate. He let out a tiny sigh and kept his eyes away from mine.

"It was a Halloween costume. But I loved it so much I didn't want to throw it away. I-I didn't even buy it, Erin bought it and...I dunno, maybe she knew I liked it? I kept looking at it when we went past it. It was in a store window at a mall..."

"It looks really good on you. Like. Wow. Do you...like dressing like this more than...?"

"I-I don't know," he said quickly. "I packed it at last minute and I forgot about it. I shouldn't have even brought it, it's not like I'm gonna wear it anywhere..."

"Hey, don't say that. Why wouldn't you wear it anywhere?" I took his hand and helped him onto the bed. He leaned against me, frowning.

"Because its a dress. And I'm a guy."

"So?"

"So...people will say stuff, Tom. I'll get looks. I don't want that kind of attention."

"Kanye West wears skirts. Lots of guys are wearing that shit now, it's popular. You'll be like a celebrity." I flashed him a grin. He didn't return the same enthusiasm.

"Well I'm not Kanye West, and I don't really wanna be a celebrity."

"Do you like the dress?"

"Yeah."

"Do you wanna wear it out with me?"

"It makes you go nuts, so yes." He giggled.

"Then wear it. Fuck social norms, wear your pretty dress. Wear the hat too. Wear earrings. Wear whatever the hell you want, because if it makes you happy then that's all that matters."

"I don't have my ears pierced, but...I would wear them if I did. Okay. I'll wear it, but it's gotta be late at night. I don't want anyone to recognize me, take a picture, then spread it everywhere. Do you really like the hat?" He brushed some hair away and tucked it neatly in his hat. I gazed at it lovingly.

"I love that hat. I want to do stuff to you in this outfit."

"Tom."

"Sorry. I'm really horny, Jordan. It's getting to me."

"Aw. I'm sorry." He giggled again, leaning close to my neck to kiss it softly. I melted.

"Can I take pictures of you like this?" I wanted to remember him in this outfit forever.

He gave a slow, hesitant nod. "Yeah. As long as you don't, you know, post them."

"You trust me?"

"Of course."

"Bad decision."

"Why is that?"

"Because I will make scrapbooks of these photos to forever remind you of how hot you are." The hand that had once been on his was now traveling up his leg and very close to the inside of his thigh. I swiped my thumb over a certain area. He jumped a little, the pink on his cheeks slowly went scarlet.

"I'm kind of exhausted," he said in small voice. "You think it could wait?"

"What can wait?"

"You taking my virginity."

"Oh. I wasn't really gonna go for it, I was just...well, yeah. Let's wait. You sleeping right now?"

"Are you sleeping right now?"

"Can you make decisions without me?" I joked. I decided to lay down as he recovered from my latest burn.

"Probably not," he giggled. "But let's be honest, you can't either."

"What? I can do things without you. I am strong, independent, resilient-"

"I could break your alpha male confidence in literal seconds."

"Oh yeah? Try it, Mary Poppins."

I didn't expect him to actually have a strategy worked out. He climbed the rest of the way onto the bed, crawled on top of me, and sat his ass down on my chest. I gaped up at him as he smirked down to me.

"Tom, what's my middle name?"

Allen Cooper. I knew it was Allen Cooper, but all I could think about and look at were the thighs that could literally choke me by how close they were to my face. I could see under his dress. I could see the tutu. I could see the underwear. My heart was going into overdrive.

"That's what I thought," he replied smugly. "How's that cocky confidence now? Can you even say a single word?"

I couldn't. I actually couldn't, I'd never felt this flustered and speechless my whole life.

"I feel so...powerful, being on top like this. I bet you like it better down there anyway, right? You like the bottom." He gave a small casual wink.

That was the straw that broke the camels back. With an animalistic growl tearing through my throat, I grabbed hold of Jordan's thighs and flipped us. He yelped in surprise when I managed to get him in the same position he had me in, except I was pinning him by the wrists down to the mattress.

"I don't like the bottom, thank you very much. I just got a little distracted by what the real bottom has to offer. Now, we could either sleep off the jet lag or I could fuck you senseless into the mattress. Your call, princess. But I'm making you behave either way."

It was completely uncalled for. I regretted it the moment the words left my mouth. He's fragile as all hell, why did I do that? Did I really forget Tyler's lesson that quickly? I waited for the tears and the anxiety attacks to come.
They never did. Jordan just stared at me in wonder, amazement as I kept him pinned. I raised an eyebrow. "No response?"

He struggled for words, moving his slightly swollen lips to form words. "I...I love you. You're just...wow. You're...everything I've ever wanted and like....so much more." I watched him blink, slowly like the lids weighed tons and I watched him yawn. He's exhausted. He's not making sense.

"Maybe we actually should go to sleep," I chuckled, freeing his wrists. "You sound delirious."

"Delirious...but honest." He wrapped his arms lazily around my neck and attempted to pull me down to the bed with him. I complied, wrapping my own arms around his waist and kissing his head. There was a knock at the door. I groaned.

"Think you can stay awake to get some food in you?" I asked him.

He nodded, smiling. "I'm always a slut for mac and cheese."
~~~

Authors note takes effort and Lee is v tired bye bye

- Lee