A Not So Happy Thanksgiving (BoyxBoy)

Part Five

Drake sat on the airplane, staring out the window. The plane still had to board about half of the  remaining passengers, and the seat next to him was still empty. Hopefully, he didn't have to sit next to someone who wanted to talk his ear off or hogged the arm rests. As he looked out, he couldn't help but think of Jamie's hurt expression when he said that it didn't have to mean anything. Maybe Jamie wanted what they did to last longer than one night. Or maybe you could've been nicer, idiot. His musings were interrupted by a voice saying, "You have got to be kidding me." He looked up to stare into Jamie's pissed off expression.

Oh, fuck.

Jamie looked down at Drake in contempt. Of all the seats on the airplane, he had to get the one next to Drake.

"Is there a problem, sir?" He looked up from Drake to the flight attendant. Her suit was almost skin tight and the makeup on her face couldn't conceal the exhaustion in her eyes.

He almost shook his head no, then paused and said, "actually, are there any other seats? I'd rather not sit here." 

She thought for a second before replying, "I'm sorry sir, but there aren't. This flight is completely booked and all seats are taken...Is there a specific reason that this seat is inadequate?"

He clenched his teeth and sighed inaudibly. "Nope. No problem at all." he muttered under his breath as he plopped down next to Drake. Next to him, Drake automatically tensed up at their close proximity. He closed his eyes in  despair.

One hour later, Jamie had exhausted himself. He had read the magazines; he had eaten the cookies as slowly as he could; he had listened to his music. What had exhausted him the most, however, was ignoring the man sitting next to him.

 He was just about to start banging his head on the lap table in boredom when the seat belt sign lit up. 

<Thank you>>

Suddenly, the plane jerked upwards. Jamie grabbed onto his arm rests with all his might, hoping that he would be able to keep his scant breakfast down. 

When the plane jerked again, he felt Drake's hand clamp down on his own. He looked up, about to berate him for this action, only to see a stark white face and wide eyes. His mouth was pulled tight and bloodless, to say nothing about his skin. The terror that was evident had him pulling up short; he could hardly scold him now. Instead, he grasped his hand tighter. The look of relief on Drake's face made it worth it. At least until the plane hit the next bump.

Finally, the seat belt sign flashed off and Drake sighed in relief. The last 15 minutes had been hell. He turned toward Jamie to thank him, only to wince at his expression. 

"Err. . . Jamie? He received a glare for his efforts. "I'm sorry about what I said this morning. It was inconsiderate and ill-timed. I seem to have a knack for always saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. Hmm, maybe I shouldn't be saying this. Ignore every-"

"I'm not pissed about that, moron! I wasn't even upset!"

"Then what-"

"My hand! I can't move it at all!" Drake couldn't help it. At Jamie's long suffering expression, he started to laugh.

"It's not funny!" Drake just laughed harder.

"Alright, alright, laugh all you want. But keep it up and I'll count this as strike two." Drake immediately stopped laughing. "That's what I thought." Jamie's looked warned him that if he did anything else stupid, there would be nothing he could do to get back into his good graces.