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trulymadlysydney · 4 months

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Wait For Me in the Sky: Twelve

Mars lingers, looking at Harry before, at the exact same time, they come back to earth and realize they’re being watched. Mars clears her throat. “Is there anything else I can get you, Mr. Styles?”

Harry’s cheeks quirk at the formality, and he hopes Mars doesn’t notice the deep gulp. He can’t help it, hearing her call him “Mr. Styles” does something to him.

“Actually,” he says, lowering his voice, “there is one thing.”

Mars blinks, not quite catching on. “Mm?”

“Although,” Harry says quietly, “Now that I think of it, I’m not certain this airline offers the type of services I’m looking for.”

Mars lets out a loud breath when she realizes what he’s getting at, and Harry beams at her reaction. She glances around her to make sure no one else has caught on, before turning back to Harry. “Well,” she says slowly. “I’m sure something can be arranged. All you have to do is ask."

Harry grins, eyes darting down Mars’ body very briefly. He reaches up to absentmindedly play at his bottom lip. “I’m not even sure I have to ask, given the way you’re looking at me.”

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MARS

It’s 3:55am, and Mars barely slept a wink.

Not that she was expecting to get much sleep anyway. After hanging up with Harry, her mind had run wild with a thousand different things she’d wished she’d said, or at least said differently, and she’d had to physically stop herself from picking up the phone to send him a text of useless clarification that she knew he didn’t need but god, it would just make her feel better if she could only--

“How was dinner with Franco last night?” The voice of her fellow crew member- Abby- pulls her from her thoughts. “You never told us.”

Mars gets a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach when she thinks about that very dinner with Franco. And up until now, she’d done a good job not thinking about it- although her anxiety hadn’t let her forget that something bad had happened. When she’d woken up for good this morning (after tossing and turning the entire night), she’d given it one thought and told herself to knock it off. She’d forced herself to shove it deep into her heart to unpack for another day, along with the strange and unwarranted guilt that had overcome her when she thought about calling Harry. She shouldn’t have called him. She should never have even thought of him. Why is she still thinking of him now? Why can’t she forget him?

“It was fine,” is all she can say. “Food was mediocre.”

The three flight attendants walk slowly through the near-empty airport-- their heels clacking against the slick floor as they make their way to their gate. For the most part, people in the airport seem to be either asleep or half-awake, and no one so much as looks up as the girls pass.

“You know she’s not asking about the food,” Jenna, the third flight attendant on the crew, speaks up. She giggles. “I half expected you to be late to the crew van today, girl. Did you stay with him?” She wiggles her eyebrows, insinuating something that makes Mars nauseous.

The girls don’t know any better, so Mars puts on her best smile. “I didn’t,” she says back, with as lighthearted a laugh as she can manage. “Too early of a start today. Plus he’s not really my type. We were just catching up as old friends.”

“Not your type?” Abby snorts. “Are you blind?”

“You cannot tell me that you don’t have any type of attraction to that man,” Jenna chimes in. “Have you seen him?”

This time, Mars’ giggle is genuine. “I have,” she says. “And there was, I guess you could say ‘a thing’ back in the day. But his personality ruins it for me.”

Abby frowns. “Don’t tell me he’s a shit human. Don’t ruin this illusion for me.”

“I mean,” Jenna says, “Can you blame her though? Girl’s had Harry Styles in her bed. I’m sure it’s hard not to compare.”

Mars swallows the lump that arises in her throat at the mere mention of Harry. She knows this is all well-intended, harmless cheek-- but it does make her sad. “That was a long time ago,” is all she can come up with.

The girls approach their gate and walk up to the counter. “Don’t tell me he’s a shit person too,” Abby says, and Jenna responds with something snarky that Mars can’t hear. Mars, instead, busies herself with speaking to the gate agent.

“Good morning!” she says, flashing her badge. “Mars Tyler. Are the pilots here yet?”

The gate agent, who’s name tag reads “Walter” offers her an almost apologetic smile. “No pilots yet,” he says. “And no plane either. Got delayed in Milwaukee this morning for some weather.”

“Love that,” Mars says sarcastically, causing Walter to chuckle.

“The good news is, they’re on their way. They’ve been able to make up for a bit of time in the air and they’re expected to land in about thirty minutes. So in the meantime, if you ladies want to hang out around here. Grab a coffee maybe. Just relax.”

The girls speak with Walter for the next couple of minutes, solidifying paperwork and guesstimating a potential boarding time, before Walter excuses himself to deal with something at another gate. Stashing their bags behind the ticket counter, the girls linger in the area, chatting quietly about their layover plans.

The layover in Dallas is long tonight, and Mars has had it before, so she knows exactly how she’s going to be spending her day. She figures she can nap for a few hours, then head out to her favorite little cafe near the hotel for lunch. Briefly, she debates inviting the girls-- because although she wants to be alone with her thoughts right now, she knows the company would be a welcome distraction.

“I’ve never been to Dallas!” Jenna says. “I didn’t know it was fun. My roommate had a layover there the other day and she told me about this one bar. Apparently it’s right down the street from the hotel. It has like, four dollar margaritas and stuff. So, if you guys are down…”

“Oh always,” Abby says. “Literally never not down for a margarita. I also--”

“Excuse me,” comes a voice behind them.

The girls turn around to see a little old woman, holding a crumpled boarding pass in her shaky hand. She looks right at Mars. “What time is boarding?”

“Oh, sorry, we’re not the gate agents,” Mars replies. “We’re the flight attendants. The gate agent will be back soon to answer any questions!”

“Oh,” the woman says, somewhat annoyed. “You can’t tell me what time boarding is going to be?”

Mars tries her best to keep her annoyance at bay. “We’re still waiting on our plane to get here, so once that arrives and the other passengers deplane and the plane gets cleaned, then the gate agent will have a bit more of an update for you.”

“What time will that be?” the woman asks.

Mars swallows down a snarky response and gives her best flight attendant smile. “I don’t know. The gate agent will be able to give you more information when he comes back.”

The old woman squints. “You’re not the gate agent?”

Mars takes a breath, then just blinks for a moment, trying to compose herself. “No, ma’am I’m one of the flight attendants.”

The woman points her shaky hand at Jenna and Abby. “Are they the gate agents?”

“No, ma’am.” Mars clears her throat and raises her voice ever so slightly so the woman can hear her better. “Again, we’re the flight attendants. The gate agent will be back soon to answer any questions you have, okay?”

“Will the gate agent be able to tell me when boarding will be?”

Mars hesitates, trying to stifle a laugh of disbelief. “I--” she begins, then lets out all of her remaining air. “Yes. The gate agent will be able to answer your questions once he gets back.”

“Oh okay.” The old woman nods. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” Mars says, with as sweet of a smile as she can manage. As soon as the woman is out of earshot she sighs and turns back to Jenna and Abby. “God.”

“I could never be a gate agent,” Jenna says. “I’d lose my job so quickly.”

“I would just go home crying every day,” Abby agrees. “I wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

Mars snorts. “We deal with some interesting people up in the air, too,” she says, “but yeah. I think they have it way harder down here.”

The girls fall back easily into their conversation about tonight’s events in Dallas, and Jenna continues to discuss the bar with the four dollar margaritas that is slowly moving to the top of Mars’ to-do list. She still has a sense of guilt and embarrassment regarding the way her night went, but she figures a cheap margarita and a few laughs with Jenna and Abby will be just the cure that she needs.

As she’s laughing at something Abby said and trying her best not to think about how tired she is, someone approaches from behind once more.

“Excuse me,” comes their voice.

This time, Mars can’t help but to hide her annoyance. “We’re not the gate agents,” she says quickly, turning around. “The gate agent will be back soon t--”

And when she sees who’s behind her, she falls completely silent.

There, looking sleepy and nervous and still just as delicious as ever, stands Harry Styles. A duffle bag slung haphazardly on his side, a cap hanging loosely on his head, and a lopsided grin on his face.

“I just wanted to know if I could upgrade my seat to Mars’ Tyler’s section,” he says.

Mars stands frozen, unsure if she should fall into his arms or take a step back. He scans her face anxiously, waiting for some type of reaction, and for a brief moment she forgets that anyone else is around her.

“Harry,” she says quietly, ‘What are you--”

“I love you.” It comes out of his mouth so calmly, so effortlessly, that Mars isn’t even sure she’s heard him correctly.

She blinks a few times, completely taken aback by his words. There’s an intense sincerity in his eyes, and as she scans his face, he never once looks away from her. “What--”

His voice is quiet, but charged, “I miss you. And I love you. And I know that this--” he gestures vaguely, “this setting isn’t really ideal for… for either of us but… Mars, I miss you and I need you more than anything or anyone in the world.”

Mars continues to scan his face, tears pricking her confused eyes as she struggles to hold back from leaping into his arms. “I don’t understand.” She shakes her head, fighting the smile tugging at her cheeks. “Why are you--”

She glances nervously around them then, suddenly aware of the eyes that have begun wandering and lingering on her and Harry. A few cell phones are pointed in their direction.For once, Jenna and Abby are speechless. She takes a cautious half-step back then laughs nervously. “Harry--”

“Can we go somewhere?” he asks. “Please?”

She glances slowly behind her at Jenna and Abby, who have both heard his question and immediately nod while shooing her away. “Uh--” she starts.

“I know you probably don’t have much time,” Harry cuts in, and Mars can tell that his panic is rising the longer it takes for her to get out a full sentence. “And we don’t have to do this now. I just--”

Somewhere in the crowd, a flash goes off, indicating someone’s attempt to take a stealthy photo, and Mars cringes. Her entire face grows hot. “Yes,” she says. “Please. Let’s go”

Harry steps to the side, gesturing for Mars to lead the way, and she begins walking. Her ears are ringing, and even though there aren’t many people here, it feels as though almost every single pair of eyes in the entire state is on her. She doesn’t look back at Harry, but she can hear his steps behind her-- not too close, but not so far back that it feels like he’s not with her.

She needs to say something. She wants to say something. But she can’t risk people hearing.

They continue walking, Mars scanning the airport for an empty gate that's far enough away, and Harry’s voice comes from behind her.

“I wanted to come with you,” Harry explains, quickly. “I’ve booked the flight.” He swallows thickly, shaking his head. “I can’t live without you any longer, Mars. I can’t do it.”

Mars walks quicker, not because she wants to get away from Harry, but because she needs to jump into his arms immediately and kiss his sweet face, and if she does it now she’s worried it will end up on the cover of every magazine in the globe.

“I know you hate this,” Harry says, keeping . “I’m sorry. I know public declarations and displays of affection aren’t really your thing. They aren’t exactly second nature to me, either. And I know this is a less than ideal way for me to tell you this but I-- I couldn’t wait. I’m sorry.”

“Harry--” Mars reaches up to wipe at a rogue tear that rolls down her cheek, and Harry officially closes the gap between them, jogging until he’s right beside her. He doesn’t touch her, but it’s obvious he wants to, and his nerves flicker across his face.

“I didn’t mean to—“ he starts.

“It’s okay,” Mars says, without turning to him. “You didn’t.”

“If you don’t want to—“

“Harry, it’s okay.” She turns into the empty gate beside them, almost throwing Harry off.

“But Mars, I—“

Mars, finally unable to stop herself, cuts him off, whirling around to grab his face in her hands. She pulls him in, fastening their lips together in what feels like the most passionate kiss she’s ever experienced in her life.

Harry’s hands immediately hold her, one hand pulling her in by the small of her back and the other gripping the bottom of her head under her neatly secured bun. By his breathing, Mars can tell he’s relieved, and a tear of his own drips down his cheek and onto hers.

She licks into his mouth, holding his face as if she could lose him if she let go. Harry matches her energy, holding on to her as tightly as possible and kissing her so passionately that half of the time it’s just the corner of her mouth or her chin.

Mars pulls away after a few moments and breathlessly smiles up at her teary-eyed man. “I love you, too, Harry.”

The relief that washes over Harry’s face is so beautiful it makes Mars want to cry harder. “You do?” He asks, voice shaky.

Mars nods. “I do.”

“You do?”

Mars laughs again. “I do, Harry. So, so much.”

Harry hesitates for only a beat before tugging Mars into his arms. She sniffles and laughs, and Harry lets out the breath that’s been cramped in his chest for hours now. “Oh, I love you, Mars. I love you, I love you.”

Mars giggles, enjoying how it feels to be held like this again before speaking. “But, I--” She trails off, breath hitching.

“What?” Harry asks, pulling away. “You what?”

“I just… Harry, it’s…” Mars sighs, voice lowering. “Is it always going to be like this?”

“Like what?”

“You don’t deserve to be with someone who doesn’t get it. Who isn’t used to this. You need to be with someone who--”

“Just be with me,” Harry says, almost pleading. He takes her shoulders in his hands and looks deeply into her eyes. “Just Mars and Harry. Like we were in Cancun That night in your hotel room. At my house in London. Don’t pay anyone else any mind. Just be with me.”

Mars swallows around an enormous lump in her throat, her bottom lip quivering. “Are you sure?” Her voice is barely above a whisper, as if she’s daring to even be hopeful.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life, Mars.” He gives her a moment to absorb his words, and he doesn’t break eye contact with her. He wants her to understand, to really feel what he’s saying. She laughs in jubilant disbelief, reaching up to wipe a stray tear from her eye, and Harry truly has never been more sure of anything than what he’s about to say. He clears his throat.

“Listen to me. Life is far too short to let things pass you by. Moments, people, opportunities. But I’m someone who has a bad habit of letting his own pride get in the way.” He chuckles. “In fact, someone once told me I’m an arrogant son of a bitch who can’t admit when he’s sorry and… well, that holds true, I think.”

“No!” Mars tries. “No, you’re--”

“But I’m tired of being that way,” Harry continues. “And I’m tired of letting moments pass me by Mars. Because I am sorry. For everything. For all of it. And I should have told you every single day since the moment I knew it…” He takes a deep breath, and squeezes her hands for emphasis. “I love you.”

Mars lets out another teary laugh of disbelief and reaches up to wipe at her eyes as Harry continues. “I love you, Mars Tyler. With all that I am and all that I have, I love you.”

Mars shakes her head, laughing again and speaking just above a whisper. “I love you, too, Harry.”

Harry beams at her. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She giggles, swinging their hands a bit, before slamming her lips back into his. It’s clumsy and they’re both crying and laughing into one another’s mouths, but it’s perfect. With a chuckle, he puts his hand on her lower back and guides her closer into him once again. “I love you,” he repeats against her mouth. “I love you.”

They stay like this for a few moments longer before Mars pulls away. With a giggle, she glances nervously around them. When she’s relieved at the sight of how empty the gate has remained, she clears her throat. “God, Harry,” she says, “You sure know how to make an entrance, don’t you?”

“I suppose I do,” Harry says, laughing. “I just… I had more than enough chances with you. And I blew them all. I’m so fucking stupid but I…” He shakes his head. “I figured a grand gesture would be the best way to go about this.”

“You could have come to me in the parking lot of a gas station,” Mars laughs. “You could have done literally anything and I would have folded.”

He smiles lightly, feeling like the weight of the entire world has been lifted from his shoulders. They stare giddily at one another, neither of them wanting to move from this movement. After another beat, Harry brushes the hair off of Mars’ face and speaks. “I don’t want to keep you from your job or anything,” he says, “So I’ll let you go board the plane… just know I’m not letting you go ever again. And when we get to… where are we going again?”

Mars snorts. “Dallas.”

“Dallas. When we get to Dallas I am going to spend every single second loving you the way you’ve deserved from the beginning.”

“And when we’re on this flight? In the air?”

“I’m going to spend every single second asleep,” Harry teases, pleased with himself when he gets a cackle from Mars that echoes softly through the quiet airport. “No, I’m going to spend it talking to you. If I can, that is.”

Mars smiles. “I’d really enjoy that.”

“It's a date,” Harry nods.

He envelopes her in his arms once again, her head resting perfectly against his neck. He presses a quick kiss on the top of her head, wishing to stay in this exact moment forever.

She finally speaks, breaking him from his thoughts. It’s a bit muffled against his coat, but he hears her just fine. “You know there’s no first class on this plane.”

Harry snorts, pulling out of the hug and shaking his head. “That doesn’t matter, Mars.”

“I’m just saying!” She raises her hands defensively, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “I hope you know that with me, you’re signing up for a lifetime of flying standby and probably ending up with shitty middle seats.”

She’s joking, of course. She knows he could buy an entire private aircraft for them if he wanted. But still, he laughs. “They could tie me to the wing of every plane you ever work on. Just as long as I get to be with you.”

She rolls her eyes and says nothing, but there’s a glowing, undeniable grin on her face as she shakes her head.

They say a rushed, half-hearted goodbye during which Mars giggles through several tears (and complains about Harry ruining the makeup she’d lazily put on in order to look decent at this hour) and Harry watches her walk away with every step. Although her back is turned to him, he knows she’s smiling just as hard as he is, and it’s a good feeling.

Even though he can feel eyes on him from the few people in this airport who are actually awake right now, he genuinely doesn’t care as much as he knows he probably should.

Mars is back. His sweet Mars.

---

During the entire boarding process, he scans the plane for Mars. He gets a brief glance of her in the back of the aircraft, helping an older woman with her bag, and he smiles to himself before taking his seat.

The gate agent had been kind enough to give Harry an entire row to himself-- despite Harry’s protests and insistence that it wasn’t necessary. After shoving his duffel under one of the seats in front of him, he pulls out his phone and shoots Mars a quick text. “I’m in 16D. An entire row to myself.”

He settles himself in the seat, tucking the things he might need (like his airpods, a good book, and his phone charger) into the seat back pocket in front of him, and tries every now and then to get a good look at Mars in her element. Unfortunately, the passengers boarding make it a bit hard for him.

Finally, however, he’s able to get a nice long look at her once the main boarding door is closed and Mars finds herself standing right in front of him, performing the safety demonstration.

She tries not to giggle the entire time, pretending not to notice the way he’s smirking at her and snapping photos of her in her demo life-vest. As she makes her way back to her galley after the demo, she leans into his row and says, quietly, “Sir, don’t bother the flight attendants.”

It’s another 40 minutes or so before Harry gets to see her again; this time they’re in the air and she’s pushing a beverage cart down the aisle. He watches her as she interacts with her passengers, effortlessly pouring drinks and making small talk.

She’s just so good at her job. The way she speaks makes it sound as though whoever is on the receiving end is the only passenger on the entire plane, but there is a casual and friendly tone to her voice that could put even the most anxious of flyers at ease. She almost always sounds just on the verge of a giggle, but not in a patronizing way-- more so in a comforting, friendly way.

And he fucking loves it.

Finally, it’s his turn. She remains her sweet, professional self, but for Harry it seems she turns it up several notches. She flashes him a flirty smile, batting her lashes at him as she leans into his row. “Can I get you something to drink, Mr. Styles?”

He smirks. “I’ll take a vodka soda, darling. If you don’t mind.”

Mars hums, setting to work immediately. “Interesting,” she says. “I thought you didn’t drink on flights.”

“I do when I’m celebrating.”

Mars’ shoots him a look as she scoops ice into the little plastic cup. “And what are you celebrating, if I may ask?”

“Love.” Harry doesn’t miss a beat in his response, and the two share a knowing grin before she turns back to the cup.

“I see.”

She hands Harry the cup of ice, placing the napkin on his tray table with expert precision before reaching into a drawer of her cart for a soda water. “I’m not supposed to do this,” she says, reaching back into the cart, “but I suppose if you’re celebrating you deserve two.” She hands him two vodka minis, and he smirks.

“Well,” he says. “Thank you. What a sweet girl you are.”

The way her eyes briefly light up does not go unnoticed.

Harry opens the can of soda and begins pouring, and she drops her professional act. “I hope the seat isn’t too uncomfy.”

He laughs. “Not at all.” He watches his soda bubble up and waits for it to settle. “It’s actually quite nice. I didn’t know your airline had such comfortable seats back here.”

She laughs. “Well. It isn’t quite first class, but it gets the job done, doesn’t it ? I’m just glad no one’s bothered you.”

Harry opens one of the minis and begins pouring it into the cup of soda. “You’re a peach.”

She sighs dreamily, and it makes Harry giddy. It feels good to make her feel good again.

There’s a moment of silence as Harry finishes pouring the first mini, but it isn’t awkward. Harry wishes she would stay by him forever.

“By the way,” he says, cutting the silence and stirring the vodka soda delicately, “Vincent sends his regards.”

Mars snorts out a laugh of disbelief. “What?”

Even Harry can’t help but to chuckle. “M-hm. Turns out he was working the flight here. Small world, eh?”

“What did he say?” Mars leans in closer, and Harry swears he can feel her embarrassment. “Oh my god, if he—“

“Nothing bad,” Harry answers nonchalantly, raising the cup to his lips. “He only mildly threatened me.”

As Harry takes a sip, Mars shakes her head. “Oh my god.”

Harry wants to tease Mars for longer, but he can’t keep up with the act. He laughs, setting the cup back down and making a brief mental note of the way Mars’ eyes fixate on his fingers for a good three seconds. “Joking,” he says. “Although we did talk about you.”

“And?” Mars raises her eyebrows slightly, as if daring to be hopeful that nothing bad was said.

“Nothing really,” Harry says, and despite his relaxed tone when he speaks, he does mean it. “Honestly, Mars. He just asked me where I was headed. He told me how he knew you, and then we discussed what a great person you are.”

Mars scowls. “I don’t believe you.”

Ignoring her words, Harry continues. “He told me that losing you would be the greatest mistake of my life. And I said “‘I know.’” He chuckles. “He also told me how stubborn you are. To which I also said ‘I know.’”

Mars looks away from Harry, seemingly too embarrassed to hold eye contact. “Oh my god,” she repeats.

“In any case,” Harry continues, picking the drink up once more, “he’s a great guy. And it worked out didn’t it? I made it here.”

Mars finally looks at Harry again, a smile threatening her lips. Harry smirks. “What?” He asks.

“I just can’t believe it,” Mars replies. “I mean, it’s insane.”

“Not really.” Harry shrugs. “A man is supposed to do anything for the woman he loves.”

Mars bites her bottom lip, as if doing so will suppress the enormous smile on her face. “You really love me, huh?”

Harry nods sincerely. “More than I can say.”

Harry’s cheeks quirk at the formality, and he hopes Mars doesn’t notice the deep gulp. He can’t help it, hearing her call him “Mr. Styles” does something to him.

“Actually,” he says, lowering his voice, “there is one thing.”

Mars blinks, not quite catching on. “Mm?”

“Although,” Harry says quietly, “Now that I think of it, I’m not certain this airline offers the type of services I’m looking for.”

Harry grins, eyes darting down Mars’ body very briefly. He reaches up to absentmindedly play at his bottom lip. “I’m not even sure I have to ask, given the way you’re looking at me.”

“I’m a very intuitive flight attendant, Mr. Styles.”

“So it would seem.”

After a beat of charged silence, Harry darts his eyes pointedly to the forward lavatory then back at Mars, wordlessly asking her the question he so desperately hopes she’ll say yes to.

She nods her head so softly, Harry would have missed it if he’d blinked. “I’ll be in the back galley, Mr. Styles. Come find me once I’ve finished service and we’ll see if I have what you’re looking for.”

The way she says it is very clear and pointed, and she ends with a nod of finality before unlatching the break on her cart and continuing down the aisle.

Holy shit.

Harry squirms in his seat, doing a terrible job of hiding the smirk on his face. He turns in his seat, eyes lingering briefly on Mars’ backside as she serves the row behind him, before scanning out just how far away that back lavatory is. He’s going to have to be discreet making his way back there, even though it’s really not even half a plane’s length. He prays that most people are asleep or otherwise engrossed in the films on their seatback TVs, because he really isn’t quite in the mood (or mental state, to be frank) to take photos and hold small conversations.

Not when Mars looks like that.

He turns back in his seat and absentmindedly tugs at his now tightening trousers. Taking another breath to steady himself he pretends to surf through the channels of his TV. He can’t just up and wait for her in the back, and besides, she still has the whole back half of the plane to get through.

He squirms uncomfortably as his pants grow tighter and tighter around his groin, and he has to force himself to wait a full 15 minutes before, finally, the soft rumble of a beverage cart being pushed back into its place up front alerts him that service has been completed.

He glances around him, and for the most part no one pays him any mind. He looks up at the non-illuminated seatbelt sign and decides now is as good a time as ever.

Unbuckling his seatbelt, he rises to his feet.

He stumbles just a bit when the plane jolts ever so slightly, and he reaches up to hold on to the overhead bins the same way he’d watched Mars do. Of course, she’d made it seem so much more effortless. But still.

It feels like the longest walk of his life, especially when he and Mars lock eyes. She can’t hide the grin on her face as she watches Harry make his way to her. He smiles when he approaches, closing the gap between them as quickly as possible without looking obvious.

“Well,” he says, “hello again.”

Mars giggles. “Hello.”

Harry subtly reaches forward to touch her arm, brushing his fingertips lightly against her wrist. “Feels familiar, doesn’t it?”

“I think we’ve done this before,” Mars says, nodding her head with a glimmer in her eye. “Although I’m not sure I have an apple to offer you this time, Mr. Styles.”

Harry snorts, stepping closer to her and further out of the eyes of passengers. “How will I manage?”

“Right. That nervous tummy of yours doesn’t like turbulence, so you don’t like to drink on flights. Except for today. When you’re celebrating love.”

Mars’ back presses against the galley counter and Harry smirks, closing in on her. “You remember everything, don’t you?”

Mars shrugs, giggling as Harry places his palms against the galley on either side of her. “I’m good at my job.”

“Mm.” Harry leans in, nuzzling against her neck. He takes in a deep breath, reveling in her scent. He loves that fucking scent. She shivers, subtly squirming when his stubble tickles her neck. He kisses just below her ear, and he can feel her gulp.

“We have to be careful,” she says-- so quietly Harry almost misses it.

“I know,” he mumbles, fingers grazing her hips. “You’ll tell me if anyone’s coming?”

“Harry,” she says quietly as his fingers dip lower, “wait.”

He glances over his shoulder immediately, expecting to see someone taking a photo of him or something. He sees nothing, but he soon feels Mars reach around him. She takes the curtain of the galley and slides it closed, a little too eagerly.

“Now we’re alone,” she says with a grin.

Harry hums, resuming where he left off with his fingers teasing at her hips and lowering themselves to the hem of her dress. “But you can still see, yeah?”

Mars cranes her neck a bit, then nods. “Yeah, I can see. I’ve got you.”

“Good.” His fingertips trail gently up her thigh, reveling in the way her skin feels warm beneath the fabric of her nylons. “God, I want you.”

Mars hums lightly, head falling back and hitting the bins of the galley lightly. “I can’t tell you how hard it’s been--” she sucks in a breath when his fingertips graze her center-- “without you.”

Harry doesn’t answer her verbally. He sucks into her neck, applying pressure with his fingers and beginning to rub little circles against her core. Whether she realizes it or not, she begins to rock her hips against him, and Harry tightens his grip on the galley behind her.

It’s difficult, doing what he’s doing through the layers of fabric she’s wearing, but neither of them seem to mind. Mars gasps quietly, then swallows wetly, humming quietly to herself and enjoying the way he’s touching her.

“You know,” she muses quietly, her voice a bit breathless. “I’ve always kind of had a fantasy about this.”

“Yeah?” Harry breathes, picking up the pace with his fingers.

“M-hm. Always-- fuck, Harry-- wanted to do this. In the galley—“ she trails off in a half-moan half-sigh before continuing, “the… the threat of being caught…”

“You like that do you?” Harry whispers quietly in her ear. He curls his fingers against her clit and she jolts, humming impatiently and continuing to rub herself against him.

“God,” she whines quietly. “Feels so good.”

“You make the prettiest noises when I touch you,” Harry comments. “Have I ever told you that?”

Mars swallows, eyes fluttering lazily open. “No one has ever touched me like you do,” she replies.

Harry smiles, leaning in and fastening their lips together once more. “I’m very sorry to hear that,” he says between kisses, “although I’m pleased to be the only one.”

“It may just be because you love me.”

Harry speaks against her lips. “I do love you.’

Through a giggle, Mars kisses him once more. “And I love you.”

Harry pulls away just enough to tilt his head in order to press a wet kiss to her pulse point. “One more time?” he teases, pulling a loud giggle from her lips. “Didn’t hear you.”

“Harry--”

“Plane’s too loud,” he mumbles against her neck, before pressing another kiss just below her ear. “Think you’re going to have to speak up for me.”

“Harry you’re so--” Mars trails off into a sigh that sounds strangely annoyed in contrast to the sweet giggles pouring from her lips seconds before. “Hold on.” She gently pushes Harry off of her, and he furrows his brows.

“What’s--”

“Passenger.” She’s peeking through the slit on the edge of the galley curtain, and it’s the only explanation she gives him, but he immediately understands. He steps away from her, turning his back to whoever is about to enter the galley in hopes he’ll go as undetected as possible.

Seconds later, someone slowly opens the curtain and enters the galley, and even though Harry’s back is turned he can feel what’s going on. The person stands there, unmoving, until Mars speaks up. “Can I get you anything?”

Her professional Flight Attendant voice makes him laugh quietly to himself; such a stark contrast to how she’d sounded seconds before.

“Uhh…” the person says, and it’s obvious that they’ve just woken up from a deep sleep. “Bathroom?”

“Bathroom’s gonna be right here!” He can’t see Mars, but he knows she’s gesturing with an open palm at the fold-out door leading to the bathroom. He almost wishes he was watching, because this specific type of interaction is one that he’s heard Mars complain about hundreds of times. “I just don’t understand,” she’d say, “What is so hard about pulling a door that literally says “PULL” in two different languages?”

Sure enough, seconds later her voice comes again. “Just pull… nope just… no, see the little slot there? Yeah just pull… no that door… yeah pull that…. No, see where it says pull?... there you go.”

Harry can’t even contain the snort that comes out of his mouth, and when he hears the bathroom door close after finally being opened, he turns around to face Mars.

She seems annoyed, but she’s still got her customer service face on. “See?” she giggles. “Every time.”

“Don’t know how you do it,�� he says, his hand finding its way right back onto her hip. He pulls her closer into him. “Would’ve lost my job by now.”

Mars giggles louder, willingly leaning into Harry and allowing him to kiss her cheek. “You’d be a fantastic flight attendant, Harry.”

“You think so? Should I apply?”

She snorts. “Yeah, actually. I think we’re hiring.”

“Mm.” Harry pinches Mars’ side lightly. “Only if I can work all of my trips with you.”

“Then no work will ever get done.”

“Sure it would.” Harry lowers his head to kiss her neck.

Mars rolls her eyes, but she’s unable to hide the smirk on her face. “Harry…”

They stay like this for a few extra minutes until the loud sound of the lavatory toilet flushing startles them both. Harry steps away from Mars, giving her bum a playful and light pinch before turning away from her, and the passenger emerges from the bathroom seconds later.

“I figured out why you look so familiar,” comes the passengers' voice. Both Harry and Mars’ hearts sink immediately.

“Do I?” Mars asks, trying to keep her tone professional and light hearted as possible.

Even Harry turns around slowly to listen. The passenger nods his head in Harry’s direction, gesturing at him. “Yeah,” he says, “You’re the girl that’s dating him.”

Harry and Mars share a look of panic, although both do an excellent job to try and hide it. Mars laughs. “Well--”

“My sister hates your guts,” the passenger says with a laugh. “But you’re pretty cool.”

Mars laughs again, awkwardly. “Well…. I mean… I… sorry to your sister.”

Harry steps closer, a bit protectively, and he opens his mouth to say something, but the passenger speaks again.

“I’ll have to tell her that I ran into you guys! Can I get a picture?”

“If you don’t mind,” Harry cuts in, “I’d prefer you didn’t.”

The man frowns. “Oh. Seriously?”

“Yeah,” Harry replies. “Trying to keep a low profile and all that.”

“Oh.” The passenger takes a moment, and Harry feels horribly awkward. Mars is visibly tense, and Harry hates it. This is exactly the thing he wants to avoid, for Mars’ sake, and now here it is-- happening at her job. For fucks sake, maybe he shouldn’t have come here…

“Well that’s okay!” The man seems surprisingly chipper, and Harry glances at Mars, who seems to soften. “Totally understand. I didn’t mean to bother you guys or anything. I just wanted to say like, seeing you guys together is actually really sweet. You guys have an undeniable chemistry. I’ve never really been a fan--” he turns to Harry quickly, “--no offense dude. But like… you two together… I dunno. My sister’s devastated but, even in all the pictures she showed me, you can see that you guys are happy. You know what I mean? You seem like cool people.”

Harry smiles as politely as he can manage, wishing he could read Mars’ mind right now. “Thanks man.”

“Anyway,” the man turns back to Mars. “Can I get some pretzels?”

Mars can’t help but laugh at his sudden request-- so different from the conversation they’d just been having seconds before. “Yeah,” she says. “And just for how cool you’re being, I’ll give you two bags.”

The conversation between the three somewhat fizzles as Mars retrieves the passenger’s snacks for him, and Harry is in complete awe of her. He has to say, he’s relieved that she’s taken the passenger’s words so well, and he’s even more relieved that the guy seems cool about it all. Harry apologizes again for not taking a picture, but the man seems cool about that as well, which lifts a massive weight off of not only Harry’s shoulders but Mars’ too, no doubt.

Mars’ anxieties only seem to show themselves the second that the man is en route back to his seat and out of ear shot. She straightens the galley curtain behind him and lets out a long sigh, her customer service smile dropping so quickly it makes Harry chuckle to himself. He steps towards her, nudging her hand with his own. “Are you okay? Know that was kind of weird…”

“Um…” Mars takes in a slow, deep breath through her nose, then smiles at Harry. “Yeah. No, yeah I’m… that was fine.”

Harry links his pinky subtly with Mars’. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Like… it’s inevitable. I know that. And it sucks but it's…” She takes his hand in hers and gives it a reassuring squeeze. “It doesn’t matter. None of it matters, as long as I have you.”

“Gonna do my very best to protect you,” Harry says earnestly. “I mean it. Gonna do everything I can to--”

“We’re a team, Harry” she says. “It’s you and me. That’s it. That’s all I care about at the end of the day.”

Harry smirks down at her, hesitating for a moment. He glances over his shoulder out at the plane of mostly sleeping passengers before taking Mars hips in his hands and yanking her harshly towards him. She squeals, stumbling into his arms, and he kisses all over her face. “I love you,” he says against her cheek. “I fucking--” against her ear -- “Love you. So--” her chin “-- fucking--” her nose “--much.”

She giggles against his kisses, fingertips lazily trailing along his sides and his back. She manages to keep a constant watchful eye on her passengers at all times, even when the kisses become more and more heated. Harry’s hands hold their tight grip on her hips and he angles them slightly, until her back is pressed against the galley countertop. She opens her mouth to allow him to lick his way inside, and she grins when his fingertips tickle lightly at the hem of her dress.

“Gotta be careful,” she warns again, softly. One arm reaches behind her to steady herself against the counter, while the other wraps around Harry’s neck. Angling his body so that he’s fully out of sight of the passengers, he ducks his head down to kiss along her neck.

“S’why you’re gonna keep an eye out, isn’t it?” He gives her thigh a soft pinch. “God, I wish we had more room on this counter.”

Mars snorts. “Well, these galleys weren’t exactly made for fucking.”

Harry pulls away smugly, raising his eyebrow slightly. “Oh, you want me to fuck you?”

“I mean it seems only fair, does it not?” She grins, leaning back and running a hand through his hair. “Have you ever joined the mile high club?”

Harry smirks. It’s a fair question, of course, but he can’t even begin to count how many times he’s “joined the mile high club.” She senses his thoughts, because she averts her gaze and immediately backpedals. “That’s probably a dumb question,” she mutters. “Sorry. I just--”

“Of course it’s not,” he says. “Don’t apologize.” He clears his throat. “Yeah, I have. But I don’t know if it counts.”

Confused, she blinks up at him. “Why would it not--”

“Because it wasn’t with you. My very own little flight attendant.”

Mars shakes her head, clearly growing flustered under his gaze. She giggles. “But surely you’ve been with another--”

Harry kisses her mid-sentence, stopping her in her tracks before her mind can run wild. She is the only person on his mind, the only one he ever wants for the rest of his life.

The kiss grows naturally heated, as expected, and Mars’ back bumps against the galley counter again. Harry reaches up to hold the back of her neck, careful not to mess up her perfectly styled hair, and he smiles against her mouth. She lets out the tiniest hint of a sigh that, if Harry wasn’t listening, he would have completely missed.

Mars reaches her hands around his hips, pulling him impossibly closer into her and angling herself subtly so that his knee is gently propped between her legs.

“Darling,” he says, grinding gently against her and lowering his hand. “Shall we go somewhere more private?” Mars subtly arches into him, kissing his neck, and his voice shakes when he speaks again. “I don’t want to--”

“Let’s go.” She pulls away, her eyes glazed and hungry. “Please. I know the lav isn’t that big but--”

Harry smirks. “Lead the way.”

Mars peaks behind the curtain one last time to ensure no one is coming, then double checks both lavatories. When she’s certain no one is coming, she opens one and slips cautiously inside. Harry follows close behind her, struggling to squeeze into the tiny room the moment he takes a step. He reaches behind him to help Mars close the door, and she fumbles around him to try and reach the latch. She finally catches hold of it, slides it all the way to the right, the lavatory light brightens just a smidge--

And they are truly, truly alone.

Mars shifts awkwardly. “I know its tight quarters,” she says, “But if we--”

Harry doesn’t give her a chance to finish her sentence before he’s right back on her. He presses his mouth to hers, pushing her gently against the sink. There’s an awkward shuffle-- god, it really is tight quarters-- but he’s hardly thinking of that as Mars angles her body to his.

The sound of elbows and knees hitting walls can be heard over the wet, kissing noises, but neither seem to care. Mars half sits-- as best she can-- on the counter and spreads her legs for Harry to stand between them. His hands slip beneath her skirt, and he can already feel her heat before his fingertips even touch her core. The nylons she’s wearing add to the sensation-- clearly-- because her head arches back the minute he touches her. He takes the opportunity to press an open mouthed kiss to her neck. Even through the added layers of both her nylons and her panties, he can feel her dampness. He smirks.

Mars jolts, kicking her still high-heel clad foot against the wall and startling them both. She gives him a sheepish look and giggles. “Oops.”

Harry pulls her closer so he can get a better grip on her before hooking his fingers into the waistband of her nylons.

“Let’s get these off,” he says quietly, lips pressed against her throat.

Mars shuffles a bit, reaching down to help him pry them off. She kicks her heels haphazardly off and giggles when she accidentally elbows the mirror behind her. “This is insane,” she mutters, more to herself than to him.

The minute her nylons are off, Harry shoves them in his back pocket. He goes right back to kissing her, but is distracted when he notices she’s stepping right back into her discarded heels. Puzzled, Harry pulls away briefly, and it takes Mars a few seconds to notice-- obviously too busy with her heels. When she finally does look at him, she furrows her brows.

“What?” she asks. “You don’t think I’m gonna stand barefoot in a lav do you?” Harry snorts, but she continues. “You don’t even know half the shit I’ve seen in these things, Harry. And I mean literal shit. Among other things. Lavs are gross. I can’t even believe--”

Harry’s lips are on hers once again, before she can finish the rest of her sentence. “I love you,” he says, “stop talking about shit.”

They continue kissing, Harry pressing himself as closely to her as he can possibly manage. His fingers graze the dampness between her legs, rubbing circles that have her shuddering and sighing into his mouth and her nails digging into his shoulders. She’s grasping desperately at the small surface area of the sink, trying to give herself some leverage, as Harry pushes further against her.

“We don’t—“ she gasps as Harry’s fingers dip into the waistband of her panties. “We don’t have much time.”

“I know,” Harry mutters against her lips, gulping when his fingertips come in direct contact with her wetness. His other hand wraps loosely around the side of her throat before he curls his fingers around her neck scarf. “Fuck, you’re wet.”

“Fuck me.” Her voice is just above a whisper, and she licks her already damp lips, which ghost against Harry’s. “Please. Please fuck me.”

Her fingers fumble with his trousers, and he lets go of her neck— reaching down to help her remove his pants. He accidentally elbows the wall for what seems like the hundredth time, but neither of them have time to acknowledge it. Mars jolts, gasping loudly when Harry bites at her neck. “Careful,” she says, “I’m—“

Harry tugs at her scarf, bringing her lips to his own and pressing a hot, sloppy, open mouthed kiss. He licks into her mouth, his nose pushing against hers.

Mars reaches down to grasp at Harry’s dick and his breath hitches in his throat, lips curling into a half-snarl as he tries to keep his balance. He steps closer to her. “I haven’t—“ he breathes, gulping mid sentence when she presses his tip to her entrance. “I haven’t got a condom.”

“We’ll be careful,” she says, but then pulls away with dreamy, half-lidded eyes and an amused smirk. “You didn’t bring any condoms?”

Harry laughs. “I did,” he says. “They’re in my bag. Under the seat. I wasn’t exactly planning for—“ he gestures with his hands and Mars giggles.

“I see,” she says. She pulls him closer by his jacket, kissing tenderly at his chin and up to the corner of his mouth. She runs her hand up through his hair, lightly removing the cap from his head and scratching at his wild curls with her free hand. “It’s okay. We’ll just--” she gasps when he unintentionally brushes her clit, “We’ll be careful.”

They stay like this, kissing and fumbling in the incredibly tight space. She takes his dick between her pretty, polished fingers and he shudders when she gives it a squeeze and a few light yanks. He gulps, letting his mouth hang fully ajar and hanging his head lazily against hers.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “Fucking hell.”

“Want to suck your dick,” Mars mumbles. “Want it in my mouth so bad.”

“No room,” Harry stammers out, eyes rolling back as his head lolls backwards towards the wall. “Fucking hell, Mars.”

“I know,” she says, picking up the pace with which she tugs and swiping at the precum collecting on his tip. “Just wishing I could.”

“I wish you could, too,” he says with a chuckle. “God, baby, when we get to that hotel--”

Mars presses her lips to his again, effectively shutting him up and smirking ever so slightly when he groans into her mouth. She gives him a squeeze and gently teases the tip of him against her entrance.

“Gotta be quick,” she reminds him, although they both seem to hate that little fact.

Harry puts one hand on the mirror behind Mars’ head, then wraps his other arm around her lower back for support. He leans closer to her and pushes himself slowly inside of her. They both gasp, adjusting to the sudden difference, and although Harry selfishly wants to get right into it, he knows he needs to give Mars a moment.

“Are you okay?” He breathes.

Mars, who’s face isn’t visible to Harry, nods. “M-hm.” Then, she sighs melting against him. “Fucking missed this.”

Harry lets out the breath he’s only just now realized he’s been holding, and gulps. He makes eye contact with himself in the mirror, and he’s overcome with a weird feeling of shame and arousal. He notes pathetic desperation in his own eyes that he hadn’t noticed before, and he has to look away from himself before he starts thinking too hard about how he looks during sex. “Missed it, too,” he mumbles.

Mars sinks her nails into his back, pulling him closer. She bites into his shoulder and he grunts, subconsciously jolting at the sharp sensation. “Fuck, Mars.”

She jolts when his thumb brushes against her clit again, and she rests her forehead on his shoulder. She half-heartedly rolls her hips, and Harry can’t help it… he makes eye contact with himself once again in the mirror. He notices the way her hair has begun to fall out of the bun she has it in, and it’s the sexiest thing he’s ever seen.. The arm he has around her tightens its grip, and she jolts again when he unintentionally squeezes at her side.

“I love you,” Mars says, voice whiny— as if she’s on the verge of tears. Harry gulps, because fuck— if she’s crying he’s definitely done for. He sloppily brings his hand up her back, before hooking his fingers into her scarf again and giving her a gentle tug.

She lifts her head and he turns his immediately, open mouth kissing over her cheeks and halfway on her lips before pulling away to once again marvel at the reflection in the mirror. The way her body moves with his every thrust. The way she’s leaning into him and loving on him as best she can in their small space.

“I’m so—“ she starts, mouth opening more as he kisses her. She lets out a loud breath that teeters on a moan, and she has to suck in a gasping breath. “I’m close.”

Harry can’t even muster up the energy to say anything back, he just gulps and picks up the pace. He revels in the way her breath is hot against his neck, and he only halfway notices the gentle banging of her feet against the cabinet below the sink.

His orgasm comes quicker than he’d been anticipating, but it starts low and slow at the base of his belly. He lets out a groan much louder than intended, and he has to inhale sharply through his teeth. “Fuck,” he says, as quietly as he can muster. “Fuck. Fuck.”

His thrusting slows ever so slightly as he cums, and Mars lets out a little hum as she digs her nails further into his back. “Come on baby,” she whines, so desperately it sounds like she’s about to cry. “That’s it, fuck!”

It’s unclear who is saying what as they both curse against one another’s mouths and necks and shoulders. And although Harry’s pace has slowed to an almost full stop, his fingers waste no time finding their way to Mars’ clit. He runs in a few circles, quick and in the exact way he knows she likes, and she gasps.

“Yes,” she says, louder than intended, and she has to bite into his shoulder again to keep quiet. He picks up the pace with his fingers despite the small ounce of energy he has left, and he’s almost startled when her orgasm comes.

It comes with a jolt, and her head is thrown back against the mirror. She groans, taking her bottom lip between her teeth and squeezing her eyes shut. It’s taking everything in her to be quiet, and Harry is loving it.

“That’s it,” he mumbles softly. “That’s my fucking girl.”

Her fingers involuntarily clench and unclench around his hair, and when he once again catches sight of himself in the mirror he’s almost shocked at how disheveled and filthy he looks right now. His knees nearly buckle when he sees, from the corner of his eye, Mars’ eyes rolling practically to the back of her head. He’s about to ask if she’s okay, but she’s still mid orgasm. And when her eyes open again, he can see she is more than fine.

She sloppily searches for his mouth with her own, and lets out a sigh of relief when she finds it. Her legs shake and her walls flutter around him-- slowly coming to a stop. Her body gradually goes limp against him, and they’re so close to one another that he can feel her heart pounding in her chest as she tries to catch her breath.

Harry’s hand makes its way up her back to cup the back of her head, scratching gently at her scalp as they both try to come down. Her walls flutter residually around her and he swallows before finally mustering up the strength to ask her, with a raspy voice, “Are you okay?”

Mars doesn’t answer at first, she just sighs again. Then, he feels her move slowly, pulling her head back as far as she can to look at him without banging it against the mirror. She’s smiling, eyes red and cheeks flushed. Her hair is a mess, and she’s never looked more beautiful. “I’m okay,” she says, voice hardly above a whisper. She drapes his cap lazily back on top of his head. “Are you okay?”

Harry chuckles, reaching up to brush some of her hair off of her face. “Yeah, I’m okay.” There’s a brief but comfortable silence, then he speaks again. “You should see yourself right now.”

She giggles, coming back to her normal self. “I’m glad I can’t,” she says softly. She pulls back further, scratching affectionately at the back of Harry’s head. For a while, they just sit there, smiling at one another. No words are spoken, but no words are necessary. They just admire one another’s faces, speaking without words.

The plane hits a slight bump, causing Mars to fall forward a bit onto Harry. He stumbles slightly, catching himself, and they both laugh as the seatbelt sign comes on with a ding.

They watch as the symbol of the stickman walking to his seat illuminates on the wall, then Mars clears her throat. “You should probably return to your seat, Mr. Styles. The seatbelt sign is on.”

Harry laughs, slowly pulling himself out of her and trying not to pay much attention to how good it feels. “That it is,” he says. He clears his throat, awkwardly shuffling to tuck himself back into his boxers and pull his pants back up. “Well I do hope you’ll return to my seat again soon, miss. I believe I need a refill.”

Mars laughs, a playfulness behind her eyes. Once Harry is zipped back into his trousers, he bends as best he can to help Mars back into her nylons. Sliding them slowly up her leg, he never breaks eye contact. His lips quirk up into a smirk. “You know how easily I could rip these again?”

Her eyes widen. “No! Don’t! They’re—“

Harry puts up a hand to stop her, a twinkle in his eyes. “I wouldn’t!” He says. “Just remembering.”

Mars hesitates, then softens when she decides to fully trust him. She jumps off the counter and pulls her nylons completely up, adjusting her skirt awkwardly with what little room she has. Harry tries his best to move around her; a task made difficult with the slight rocking of the plane.

“Okay,” Mars says, smoothing her hair in the mirror and readjusting a few bobby pins. “I’ll go out first and see if there’s anyone out there. There shouldn’t be but.. you know. If there is, I’ll say someone in here was sick and needed my help. Do I look okay? How’s my hair?”

Harry’s lip quirk up and he opens his mouth to speak, but Mars cuts him off. “Don’t answer that. I can’t handle another cheeky remark from you.”

Harry snorts. “Alright.” He gestures at the door. “After you.”

Mars lingers for a moment, just watching him, then shakes her head. “God, I love you,” she says, more to herself than to him. She gives herself one last quick look in the mirror, then takes a deep breath. “Okay.”

With careful hands, she unlocks the lavatory door, causing the lights to dim ever so slightly. She steps in front of Harry, as if her whole frame can block him from view, and slowly begins to open the door. Subconsciously, she leans into Harry as she moves, and he has to fully stop himself from taking her hips in his hands and yanking her back into him.

They both peek out at the same time, and are relieved to see that there is no one waiting outside of the bathroom for them. They both let out a quiet breath, and Mars sneaks out the door before Harry can even react.

In the silence that follows after Mars closes the bathroom door behind her, Harry lets out a sigh that turns into a chuckle. He looks at himself in the mirror, and he cannot believe what he’s just done.

Of course it wasn’t the first time he’d had sex on a plane. But damn if it wasn’t the best.

He reaches up to run a hand through his tousled hair, trying his best to fix it, and straightens out his cap. Though the lavatory still feels tiny, it’s remarkable how much of a difference he feels now being the only one in the room. He takes a deep breath, enjoying the way his entire body feels a bit cramped and sweaty.

After a few more moments that feel like hours, he presses his ear up to the bi-fold door of the lavatory. When it doesn’t sound like anyone is speaking on the other side, he decides the coast is clear and exits.

The air in the galley is much cooler than in the cramped bathroom, and subconsciously Harry takes a deep breath. There’s Mars, standing at the galley and restocking soda’s into a galley cart. She looks unphased, and beautiful as ever. It’s almost laughable to think what she and Harry just did.

Mars glances at him, a smile playing on her lips. “Can I get you anything, Mr. Styles?”

“I’m all set,” Harry says. “Thank you.”

They linger once again for just a split second, and Harry has to physically pull himself away with a laugh and a mutter of “shit” under his breath. As he walks away, he hears Mars giggle behind him.

He cannot wait to get her alone tonight.

——

Mars feels giddy when she hears a knock at her hotel room door. For security reasons, Harry hadn’t been allowed to share the crew van with her and her fellow flight attendants, and he’d sworn it was fine. He said he had errands to run anyway, and although Mars knew that was nonsense, she let it happen. They’d said a hurried goodbye, and Mars sent Harry off with a promise to send him her hotel information and room number as soon as she had it.

The wait had felt like ages, but now that he’s here, the anticipation is forgotten.

With one last glance in the mirror she giggles to herself and scurries over to the door. She peeks through the peephole, smiling when she sees Harry on the other side..

“Who iiiiiis it?” She sings.

“Special delivery,” Harry responds.

Mars giggles, flinging the door open and practically falling into Harry. He wraps his arms around her, kissing the top of her head and scratching affectionately at her back.

“Hi,” Mars says, muffled against Harry’s arm.

Harry takes a gentle step into the hotel room, careful to take Mars with him and not trip her. “Hello,” he says, pressing another kiss to the top of her head. The door closes behind them with a little help from Harry’s foot. “Long time no see.”

“Mm.” Mars looks up at him, her chin resting on his chest, before pursing her lips.

Harry chuckles, leaning down to comply with her silent request for a kiss and continuing to push them further into the room. “You look so good.”

Mars had tried her best with what she’d had in her suitcase. While she’d opted to leave her fanciest lingerie in her drawer at the crashpad, she had packed a nice lacy thong and bra for this trip in case any opportunities arose. She wears them now under a long tshirt that grazes her thighs.

Mars laughs, separating her lips from his. The back of her legs hit the bed. “Sorry I didn’t pack anything better.”

“What are you talking about?” Harry picks at Mars’ tshirt sleeve. “This is fantastic.”

“Mm.” Mars says nothing, kissing him again then squealing when he pushes her down on the bed.

He drops down to his hands and knees, crawling up a very giggly Mars’ body. He stops every now and then, dropping to press kisses against her skin. When he reaches her neck, he lingers, and she sighs, tilting her head to grant him easier access.

Her fingers find their way into his hair, and she scratches affectionately at his scalp. “I love you,” she says, hardly audible.

Harry lifts his head and smiles. “What?”

“I said I love you. I wasn’t sure if I would ever get the chance to see you again.”

“That’s silly.” Harry leans down and presses a kiss to her nose.

“But I was so… I mean when we…” She trails off in a sigh. “I was so mean to you.”

“Well I wasn’t exactly an angel to you either,” Harry chuckles, lazily drawing a circle on the spot where her tummy meets her hip and smirking when she quivers a little. “And I will spend every single day of my life making it up to you.” He leans down and kisses her cheek. “I promise.”

“You don’t have to,” Mars says. “Harry, I am so sor—“

“Mars.” There’s a bit of a more serious edge to his tone, although he stays smiling. “It happened. It’s over. I love you. That’s it.”

“But—“

“I love you,” Harry repeats. “That’s it.”

Mars hesitates, then closes her mouth with a giggle. Before she can even think about speaking again, Harry’s kissing her, soft and gentle. There is intention behind his kiss, but it isn’t charged. It’s sweet, and it’s a way to communicate with no words. Mars smiles, opens her mouth to grant him access, and communicates, as best she can, the feelings swimming around in her heart.

And as they kiss, what she wants to say is “you’re my soulmate. I don’t think I’ve ever known anyone as special as you. I don’t think I ever will. You’ve transformed my life in ways I didn’t know were possible. I didn’t know I was capable of being so happy in this lifetime, and I will try every second of every day to show you the same love you have shown me.”

But what she says is, “I love you.”

And when Harry smiles, his hand raising to lovingly cup her cheek, she knows he understands exactly what she means.

98 notes · View notes