Chapter 13 The Flying Game
The Flying Game
It had been one of the rare sunny days that they only got a few times out of the year in Seattle. Taylor awoke to the golden light of the sunrise coming in through his window. The morning birds chirped as the cicadas hummed outside.
A knock on his bedroom door drew his attention away from the window. The door slowly crept open to reveal an already naked Fletcher. Finally. He had waited way too long for this.
“Are we really doing this?” Taylor asked him excitedly. “You’ve come to your senses?”
“I just can’t stay away from you,” Fletcher told him. “You drive me crazy, Taylor.”
Taylor quickly slid out of his bed and wrapped a hand around the back of Fletcher’s head to pull him in for a deep, passionate kiss. It started out familiar and sweet before it quickly escalated into something completely different. Something wild and frantic. Like they were running out of time.
Taylor’s hand moved to Fletcher’s cheek as he eagerly brushed Fletcher’s soft lips with the pad of his thumb. Fletcher whimpered and parted his lips as Taylor plunged his finger into Fletcher’s mouth.
His hot mouth sucked him as Fletcher dropped to his knees at the same time Taylor did, bodies fully in sync with each other like always. Fletcher’s hand gripped Taylor’s wrist as Taylor’s thumb assertively massaged Fletcher’s tongue.
Fletcher opened his mouth and connected their lips in another kiss. One that was slow and tender, as if Fletcher had wanted to slow things down a bit. Taylor removed his thumb from Fletcher’s mouth as he cupped Fletcher’s jaw and rested his forehead on his.
“Taylor…” Fletcher said softly.
Except it wasn’t his voice.
“Taylor?” A young voice called out as Taylor jolted awake. He looked out the window again, but the golden sun and singing birds had been replaced by the sound of rain pattering outside.
“Are you awake?” Caleb asked through the door.
“Yeah little man, I’m up now,” Taylor called out hoarsely. He cleared his throat.
“Can we still go see a movie today?”
“Let me grab a shower and we can head out,” he promised the kid.
“Okay. See you upstairs,” Caleb said. He heard tiny footsteps run quickly back up the creaky, wooden stairs. Taylor squeezed his eyes shut as he pulled his hair and let out a groan of frustration. His cock had grown erect as he woke up with Fletcher still on his mind.
Taylor was hit with the realization that he had really, really screwed up.
“Fuck.”
Taylor was taking a cold shower. He needed to put himself in timeout. This was… What the fuck?
* * *
The team had flown back from a game in Chicago late last night. Or maybe it was early morning. The plane was silent as the Seaporters all dozed off. But for some reason, Taylor couldn’t sleep. He’d had a lot on his mind the past two months.
He couldn’t deny it anymore. Fletcher Armstrong had become the bane of his existence.
He couldn’t function properly if they were in the same room together.
Over the past couple of weeks, Fletcher had been going out with a girl named Maude.
She was pretty enough, Taylor thought. She was petite with fair skin, long brown hair, and big doe eyes.
Maude was very clingy, and Taylor didn’t know how Fletcher could put up with it. If they were in Seattle, Fletcher was with her. If they were on the road, he would text her. If they were in their hotel room, he would call her. It got old quick.
Taylor wanted to be happy for him, but Maude made it really hard to like her.
It was like she knew exactly how to push Taylor’s buttons and piss him off.
From an outsider’s standpoint it seemed like he and Maude were just playfully teasing each other.
But only she and Taylor knew that it was all a game of who could steal Fletcher’s attention for the night. And she always ended up winning.
One night at a bar she and Taylor were bickering over Fletcher’s hair. Maude thought he needed to cut it short, so he looked “less homeless.” Taylor told her that Fletcher looked fine the way he was.
“You’re not the one who has to look at him all day,” she argued.
Actually, Taylor was the one who would stare at him all day because they were teammates and roommates and bus buddies and what have you.
It wasn’t weird to spend as much time as he did with Fletcher considering they were best friends, honestly.
That’s what Taylor had told himself to help him sleep at night.
Slowly but surely, Maude had found a way to invade their little friendship bubble by keeping him on his phone to talk to her. And the worst part about all of it was that Fletcher let her.
He and Taylor were in some sort of limbo state where they would get really close for a day and then be distant and guarded with each other for a few days.
It confused the hell out of him, but the common denominator of this whole ordeal was that Taylor wanted more time with Fletcher.
He wanted his attention. He wanted Fletcher to pester him with questions about random stupid shit.
He wanted Fletcher to tell him about his boring ski trips to Banff. He just wanted more of Fletcher.
Something happened that night on their plane ride home from Chicago.
It was late. Taylor had finally admitted to himself that there was no way he was going to fall asleep. He looked around the cabin to see if anyone else was awake, but it seemed like all of his teammates and everyone else on the plane were passed out. Except for Fletcher.
Taylor had become hyper aware of Fletcher, which contributed heavily to this huge dilemma he was in.
Recently, Fletcher had been sitting in the back of the planes so he could have privacy while talking to Maude.
Taylor couldn’t even think of what they could possibly talk about for hours on end.
Taylor didn’t want to bother Fletcher, but he still found himself quietly exiting the row he shared with Sánchez and walking to the back of the plane.
He was still awake. Taylor had a feeling he was. Fletcher had on his headphones and was staring out of his window as Taylor walked to the back of the plane. Taylor occupied the aisle seat in Fletcher’s row, which made Fletcher turn his head down to look at him.
The plane was dark. Nearly pitch black if it weren’t for the illumination of the screens built into the backs of the seats. The light from Fletcher’s screen lit his face up as Fletcher removed his headphones.
“You’re still awake?” he asked Taylor.
“Yeah, I couldn’t fall asleep.”
Fletcher tucked his headphones into his bag and picked it up from the middle seat. Taylor scooted over to occupy the seat and grabbed the bag from Fletcher to put in his aisle seat.
“What’s going on?” Taylor asked him.
Fletcher frowned and let out a sigh. “Maude dumped me over text, but I didn’t see the message ‘til” we boarded the plane.”
“That sucks man. I’m sorry.”
Fletcher let out a breath that sounded more annoyed than sad and just shrugged. Like it didn’t matter. Like she didn’t matter. That should’ve been a relief to Taylor, but instead it just put him more on edge.
“I think it was for the best anyways,” Fletcher said. His hand landed on Taylor’s thigh, so casually and familiar that it couldn’t mean a thing. It shouldn’t mean a thing. And yet, Taylor’s heart kicked violently against his ribs the moment the warmth of Fletcher’s palm met his leg.
Taylor’s Apple Watch buzzed. Heart rate too high. Try to cool down. Taylor’s mouth went dry as he read it. No fucking shit, he thought to himself. He was fucking spiraling.
Fletcher’s eyes flickered down to the watch, then back up to him.
He didn’t say anything. He just looked at Taylor like he was waiting for Taylor to do something.
Daring him to say something. Like he was satisfied Taylor was reacting this way.
There was no way he didn’t read it. They both found themselves frozen in place as they held each other’s gaze.
The hum of the plane filled the space around them, low and constant, reminding them that they weren’t alone.
“Relax,” he whispered to Taylor a moment later.
Taylor swallowed. “You said it was for the best.” Taylor hated how rough his voice sounded. He couldn’t be any less obvious. “Why? I thought you liked her.”
Fletcher exhaled through his nose. “I did,” he said. Followed by a pause that was heavier than the answer. “I didn’t want any distractions. The cup, media, pressure. I didn’t want anything pulling my focus.”
Taylor nodded, not entirely believing him.
That explanation just didn’t fit. Not when Fletcher was looking at him with an intense look.
Looking at him. Something twisted uncontrollably in his chest. The look made Taylor think that maybe…
Fuck, he shouldn’t be thinking like this.
This was how careers ended. Why guys got traded.
“Is that—” Taylor swallowed, chest tightening. “Is that the only reason?” Taylor’s voice was husky as he said it.
Fletcher didn’t answer. His gaze dropped just for a minute, looking down at Taylor’s mouth.
Taylor’s heart was beating faster than it ever had.
Fletcher leaned closer, so close that Taylor could feel the warmth of his breath on his lips.
Taylor’s lips parted suddenly, without him even knowing it.
The intensity of it made his stomach churn.
Taylor’s chest rose and fell. And rose and fell.
It was like Fletcher had some gravitational pull that made Taylor want to inch closer to him.
Like Taylor’s whole body was buzzing with an intense attraction.
He leaned his head in until their faces were less than an inch apart.
Fletcher moved ever so slightly until their noses touched, brushing against each other.
His hand slid up Taylor’s jaw, firmly and without permission. With zero hesitation.
Anger flared hot and sharp inside of him. It made Taylor hate himself for how badly he wanted this. He couldn’t hold himself back any longer. He wanted this more than anything.
“We can’t,” Taylor muttered to him. Fletcher didn’t argue. But he didn’t pull away either. He was telling Taylor that the ball was in his court. If they were going to do this, then it would be Taylor’s fault. Not his.
“I know,” Fletcher muttered.
Fuck it. Taylor connected their mouths anyways. There was so much being said unspoken in the air, and he just wanted to shut Fletcher up.
His hands immediately went to Fletcher’s body, needing contact.
One hand slid up Fletcher’s shirt to hold him in place by his hip.
His other hand slid up beneath the shirt and ran up the middle of his back before sliding down to hold him by the small of his back.
Taylor tried to pull Fletcher closer, but Fletcher’s seat belt was holding him back.
Fletcher removed his hand from Taylor’s face and frantically reached down to unbuckle it, all while never breaking the kiss.
He freed himself from the seat belt and pressed himself flush against Taylor’s body.
Taylor deepened the kiss as Fletcher awkwardly swung a leg over Taylor’s lap, but he didn’t pull Fletcher to straddle him like he really wanted to because someone definitely could’ve seen them.
Their tongues fought for dominance as Fletcher accidentally let a quiet moan slip.
It was soft enough that no one else on the plane could hear it, which made Taylor feel a little better about it.
Fletcher’s hand found Taylor’s face again as he ran the other one up under Taylor’s shirt to feel his abs.
His stomach contracted. Taylor unconsciously ground himself up against Fletcher, which made Fletcher do the same.
He was agonizingly hard, cock begging to be let out of his sweatpants.
Fletcher’s hand reached down to cup him, which made Taylor let out a guttural moan.
He rubbed Taylor over his pants and Taylor thrust himself into Fletcher’s hand.
Taylor tugged at Fletcher’s bottom lip with his teeth, which made Fletcher’s mouth part. Fletcher’s hand squeezed Taylor through his pants as his other one slid down his face to hold him by his neck. Taylor removed his hand from Fletcher’s hip as he cupped Fletcher’s ass.
Taylor pulled away from the kiss and rested his head against Fletcher’s.
He needed to know what Fletcher’s bulge felt like more than anything, but he was immobilized as Fletcher continued to get him off.
Their noses brushed up against each other as they brushed their parted lips together, sharing air.
Fletcher leaned in and pressed his open mouth over the bridge of Taylor’s nose, letting out a series of breathless moans and whimpers as Taylor chased his release.
“Fuck, Taylor,” Fletcher whispered breathlessly.
His hand left Fletcher’s hip as Taylor tugged on his hair and quickly pressed a messy kiss to Fletcher’s cheek and a second to his brow bone.
Taylor’s impending release built up and up before he finally finished in his boxers, bursts of hot semen shooting down his pants. Holy shit. Holy shit.
“Armstrong. Holy shit.”
Fletcher connected their lips once more in a slow, drawn-out kiss before removing his hand from Taylor’s crotch and slumping back into his seat.
He leaned back to catch his breath as he slapped a hand against Taylor’s thigh again.
This time, in a patronizing way. Still panting, he looked at Taylor with a cocky look in his eye, like reality had finally set in that he made Taylor come in his pants.
On the back of a fucking airplane. He looked highly proud of himself.
Taylor felt disgusted with himself. Not the fact that he let another man get him off, but because he lost control. He willingly gave up control. This wasn’t him. He wasn’t the type of guy who easily gave into his urges.
“This was a mistake,” Taylor said coldly. He picked up Fletcher’s hand and removed it from his leg as he stood up and walked back up to the front of the plane.