Stingue One-Shots

The Delayed Game

Rogue's plane touched down in Atlanta twenty minutes early.

The day was going pretty well for the nineteen-year-old boy. The plane from St. Louis to Atlanta went by without a problem. In less than nine hours, he would be back at home in his own bed.

Rogue had had enough of the cots at camp. He and his best friend, Sting, had been counsellors at a residential summer camp. It was actually a pretty cool camp for middle school and high school students – the camp prided itself in being the only summer camp in the world with its own zoo. During the time campers spent there, they could "adopt" an animal, which they were allowed to help care for. For the most part, the job was enjoyable for Rogue. Really, the kids were fine. Sure, some of them were downright brats, but, for the most part, he and Sting had gotten the older kids – like fourteen- and fifteen-year-olds. It was a pretty easy job, too. They had to make sure all the kids were up and at breakfast in time, had to make sure all of the campers were alive at any given time throughout the day, had to patch up any minor injuries that kids might have gotten that day, and they had to ensure all of the campers had lights out before eleven o'clock.

Rogue shifted his head slightly to get comfortable, which proved difficult due to the ponytail that Rogue had tied his thick black hair into. He couldn't move much; he didn't want to wake up Sting, who was dozing on his right shoulder. He ended up feeling the most comfortable with his head resting on top of Sting's own head. His blood-red eyes fluttered shut as he caught a few extra minutes of sleep before landing in Atlanta.

"Ladies and gentlemen, as we start our descent into Atlanta, please make sure your seat backs and tray tables are in the full upright and locked position. Make sure your seatbelt is securely fastened and all carryon luggage is properly stowed under the seat in front of you or in an overhead compartment. Thank you," the flight attendant's cheerful voice announced not long after Rogue had fallen asleep.

Rogue gazed at his best friend, considered waking him up, and decided against it for another few minutes. After putting up his tray table and checking that both his and Sting's seats were in the 'upright position,' Rogue turned his head to the right, peering over his slumbering friend's form to see the night sky beyond the window of the airplane.

Flying at night was one of the things that Rogue truly enjoyed in life. As he was growing up, his family travelled almost constantly, going all across the world on vacations whenever Rogue had some time off school. That was one of the few things about living at home he missed. Now that he had moved out to share an apartment with Sting, his family didn't bring him on their adventures around the world.

They soon broke through the clouds, and the illuminated city below revealed itself. The thousands of tiny lights formed shapes and grids across the landscape. A large cluster of bright lights formed the inner city. Rogue noticed some collections of lights in the winding roads of neighbourhoods and the lamps in the front yards of the houses. A long, mostly straight bright stretch dotted with lots of normal yellowish light and a fair bit of red made up the highway.

He sighed, shifting his gaze yet again to the boy sleeping on his arm. He's too goddamn cute sleeping like that. Yeah. Rogue sort of had the biggest crush on his best friend. Of course, Sting didn't know that. Well, Rogue hoped that he didn't – there had been a little slipup a few years ago, but he hoped that his friend would have forgotten about that by now.

But Sting was seriously attractive when he slept. His spiky blond hair was dishevelled in such a way that Rogue found to be irresistible. His face was relaxed, and it left Sting with the slightest bit of a natural smile. Sting was such a joyful person that his natural relaxed face was still smiling. His mouth was a tiny bit open, and his breathing was in small, quiet puffs.