Jim poked his head round the door and huffed when he saw Simon leant against the sink, his jeans pushed down to his thighs and cock out and in his hand.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Hoping you’d join me?” Simon replied lazily, stroking his cock as he spoke.
Jim looked at the small space with incredulity, wondering how they could both fit in that space when it was barely big enough for one person. But he went in anyway, scrunching his face up as he struggled past the door and feeling silently victorious when it shut behind him.
But that meant they were pressed tightly together, Simon biting his lip while his cock rubbed against Jim’s jumper.
“Turn around, I don’t want you to stain my clothes.” Jim told him, hands immediately to Simon’s hips to help him turn round. It meant the taller man now had his face rather squashed against the light above the mirror, but his cock was now leaking over the sink.
“Why couldn’t you have waited until we had landed?” Jim hissed as he tugged Simon’s trousers and briefs down at the back.
Simon shrugged and hit his elbow on the door, long limbs uncooperative in the tiny room.
“Was pissin’ and he woke up.”
“Stay still.” Jim said, trying not to let his exasperation show through his voice. He leant back and fumbled with his own jeans, freeing himself and pumping his cock to full hardness with practiced strokes.
Jim reached under Simon’s arm to the liquid soap, squeezing a small amount from the dispenser onto his hand before slipping it between Simon’s thighs from behind.
“I don’t have time to fuck you properly as the plane will start its decent soon. Bend down a bit and bring yourself off and try not to make too much of a mess.”
Jim stepped back as far as he could before pulling Simon back to him, slipping his cock between his thighs and sighing at the sensation, grinning mischievously as the tip of his cock nudged the back of Simon’s balls.
“Oh, and stay quiet.” Jim said before drawing back and thrusting forwards again. “I doubt the walls are soundproof and I don’t want the entire plan to know what we’re doing.”
Simon nodded and bit his lip, leaning his forehead hard against the lightshade and stroking himself in time with Jim’s thrusts.
Simon came quickly, shuddering and spilling into the sink just as Jim had hoped. So Jim sped up his pace, thrusting harder and faster and delighting in the feel of Simon’s thighs squeezing him.
When Jim came it was messy, running down Simon’s thighs and into his underwear. A quick wipe with some toilet roll cleaned the worst up, but Jim did not bother being thorough. Instead, he wiped and tucked himself away neatly before pulling Simon’s jeans up roughly.
“It’s your fault your underwear is soiled.” Jim told him, before unlocking the door and struggling out, leaving his friend to regain his composure.
The woman across the aisle from him gave him a strange look as he took his seat once more and he smiled back politely, knowing only the slight blush in his cheeks could give him away.
Then the seatbelt light came on and the hostess came back, asking after Simon.
“Oh, he’s fine. Was just a little nauseous.” Jim replied, giving her his best smile – the one that was incredibly charming and spoke of innocence and truth – and she returned it shyly.
“Had a bit too much to drink, has he?” She asked in hushed tones.
“Is it that obvious?”
Simon stumbled back, looking completely out of it as he gave the hostess what was probably meant to be a smile before clambering over Jim once more, back to his seat by the window.
Jim rolled his eyes at the hostess and she shook her head, reminded him there were paper bags tucked in the pocket in the seat in front, then resumed her own seat for landing.
“We should fly more often.” Jim said as Simon resumed his fidgeting.
Simon simply hummed in response and stared out the window.
FILL: [RPF] Jim/Simon, mile high club 2/2
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Hoping you’d join me?” Simon replied lazily, stroking his cock as he spoke.
Jim looked at the small space with incredulity, wondering how they could both fit in that space when it was barely big enough for one person. But he went in anyway, scrunching his face up as he struggled past the door and feeling silently victorious when it shut behind him.
But that meant they were pressed tightly together, Simon biting his lip while his cock rubbed against Jim’s jumper.
“Turn around, I don’t want you to stain my clothes.” Jim told him, hands immediately to Simon’s hips to help him turn round. It meant the taller man now had his face rather squashed against the light above the mirror, but his cock was now leaking over the sink.
“Why couldn’t you have waited until we had landed?” Jim hissed as he tugged Simon’s trousers and briefs down at the back.
Simon shrugged and hit his elbow on the door, long limbs uncooperative in the tiny room.
“Was pissin’ and he woke up.”
“Stay still.” Jim said, trying not to let his exasperation show through his voice. He leant back and fumbled with his own jeans, freeing himself and pumping his cock to full hardness with practiced strokes.
Jim reached under Simon’s arm to the liquid soap, squeezing a small amount from the dispenser onto his hand before slipping it between Simon’s thighs from behind.
“I don’t have time to fuck you properly as the plane will start its decent soon. Bend down a bit and bring yourself off and try not to make too much of a mess.”
Jim stepped back as far as he could before pulling Simon back to him, slipping his cock between his thighs and sighing at the sensation, grinning mischievously as the tip of his cock nudged the back of Simon’s balls.
“Oh, and stay quiet.” Jim said before drawing back and thrusting forwards again. “I doubt the walls are soundproof and I don’t want the entire plan to know what we’re doing.”
Simon nodded and bit his lip, leaning his forehead hard against the lightshade and stroking himself in time with Jim’s thrusts.
Simon came quickly, shuddering and spilling into the sink just as Jim had hoped. So Jim sped up his pace, thrusting harder and faster and delighting in the feel of Simon’s thighs squeezing him.
When Jim came it was messy, running down Simon’s thighs and into his underwear. A quick wipe with some toilet roll cleaned the worst up, but Jim did not bother being thorough. Instead, he wiped and tucked himself away neatly before pulling Simon’s jeans up roughly.
“It’s your fault your underwear is soiled.” Jim told him, before unlocking the door and struggling out, leaving his friend to regain his composure.
The woman across the aisle from him gave him a strange look as he took his seat once more and he smiled back politely, knowing only the slight blush in his cheeks could give him away.
Then the seatbelt light came on and the hostess came back, asking after Simon.
“Oh, he’s fine. Was just a little nauseous.” Jim replied, giving her his best smile – the one that was incredibly charming and spoke of innocence and truth – and she returned it shyly.
“Had a bit too much to drink, has he?” She asked in hushed tones.
“Is it that obvious?”
Simon stumbled back, looking completely out of it as he gave the hostess what was probably meant to be a smile before clambering over Jim once more, back to his seat by the window.
Jim rolled his eyes at the hostess and she shook her head, reminded him there were paper bags tucked in the pocket in the seat in front, then resumed her own seat for landing.
“We should fly more often.” Jim said as Simon resumed his fidgeting.
Simon simply hummed in response and stared out the window.