Roman Profile • Daniel Ricciardo

Can You Do That For Me?

The quiet that had fallen between you and Daniel in the moments following take off was surprisingly comfortable, and it was honestly a bit of a relief after the chaos of your day leading up to catching the flight. Sitting here like this felt dangerously good, with your feet tucked up under you in the large plush seat while you peered out the jet window and Daniel just a few feet away in the seat facing yours, messing around on his phone, clearly as content and at ease as you were.

You'd always been good friends, taking to each other without much of a second thought after Max had introduced you two just in passing a few years back at some event he'd invited you both to. The progression from acquaintances to close enough to hang out alone without friends had been just as simple, so lacking in the usual awkward transition stage while you figured out the dynamic that you'd both felt the need to point out just the absence of awkwardness repeatedly to one another.

So, much like the way you'd become friends without ever really deciding to, you couldn't really ever pinpoint when you had started to notice that sometimes, entirely unprompted, your thoughts would just drift to Daniel and just the memory of his booming laugh and the way he beams at you when you made a joke would have a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. You tried to rein in the way your gaze constantly sought him out when he was within eyesight, though it did frequently come in handy that you seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to finding his face in a crowd, where for you, he stood out from the others like the world around him was trapped in one of those old black and white movies but he alone was in technicolor.

Beyond the general fondness and deep admiration you had for him, you didn't really think too heavily about what it might mean that your chest got tight and your stomach dropped sometimes when he looked at you, giving you a smile so big it nearly split his face in two. You were friends, good friends that were closer than most and you really, really didn't want to run the risk of ruining the best friendship you'd ever had by listening to the little voice in your head that sometimes whispered "well what if you..."

But that's all it was, you told yourself, it was just a little friendly pull towards him. It didn't mean anything. You let your thoughts drift, though purposefully steering them away from Daniel, and ignored the urge to take a quick glance at Daniel, just to see what he was up to as he sat quietly in the seat directly across from you. Laying your head against the window, you watched the clouds and endless stretch of sky fly by while the soft noise of the flight buzzed in your ears. As you began to drift off, you did your best to keep your attention focused on what lay outside the plane, rather than on what sat inside of it, since that view was a million times more fascinating and intriguing, but absolutely off limits.

Try as you might, your tired eyes rebelled in the face of any resolve to not give in to temptation and fell to Daniel's relaxed form. So, the last thing you saw through sleep heavy lashes was his face, the details slowly dissolving into a blur of warm, golden skin, a tangle of dark curls and impossibly pink lips quirked up in a soft smile.

As though your thoughts were unwilling to let go of your current setting and view, the dream that was beginning to take form picked up from where reality had dropped off. Blinking awake, you found that you were still sitting in the chair you'd fallen asleep in but the way you felt was entirely different. Head heavy and limbs feeling strangely hot and achy, you glance up and nearly fall out of your chair at what you see.

Instead of still sat in his chair where you'd left him, Daniel is standing over you, not saying a word but watching you closely. There is no mistaking the way his gaze is dragging down the length of your body, eyes lingering on the exposed skin of your chest, tracing the line of your legs. All the while, his chest noticeably heaves, the movement betraying the way he's sucking in heavy mouthfuls of air like he can't quite catch his breath.