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You were feeling completely exhausted as you boarded the plane. Good thing you had earned a good number of miles, so you upgraded your economic ticket to first class. You had just arrived in Seoul a couple hours earlier for a conference and were already leaving. At least you’d be able to sleep like a normal human being for a few good hours before arriving in London and going straight to work.
You were a translator, the youngest on your firm. You worked for an international company that would send you on different tasks in a variety of places, depending on the demand. You spoke English and French, the standard on this line of work. But what made you a valuable employee was that you spoke Korean. A lot of people spoke Chinese nowadays, but Korean wasn’t a very easy language to find a translator where you were from.
“Thank God for those k-dramas on my teenage years”, you thought to yourself, as you entered the aircraft. A smiling flight attendant guided you on the crowded plane. “Everybody thought I was crazy for studying Korean when I was a teen”.
The only seat left available on first class was yours, a spacious chair by the window, on the left side of the plane. There was a man blocking your way, lying down on the immediate next one by the corridor. He had his arms and legs crossed, black cap and mask covering his face. He seemed sound asleep. The smiling flight attendant made everything to wake him up, calling him politely several times, without success.
You grew inpatient, your sleep privation making you especially cranky. On top of it you were very hungry, the lethal combo. You noticed a white string connecting his right ear to his coat’s front pocket. Unceremoniously, you plucked his earphone and audibly complained, formally: “Hey, old man! You are delaying the plane schedule! Can you please stand up so I can get to my seat?”
All the eyes on the first class were on you, the crazy woman yelling with a sleepy guy. He removed his cap from his face, a pair of black pearls glowing heatedly on your direction. His eyebrows united on a big frown as he uncrossed his arms and legs, and putted his chair on a 90° angle. You could swear you knew those dark eyes from somewhere. But, to your horror, he wasn’t much older than you, he might even be your age or younger!
You stumbled on your words, meaning to say: “I’m sorry for bothering you, sir, I just want to get to my seat, I apologize for my rudeness!” but instead you just bowed, and let out a few incoherent sounds that resembled words. You could feel your face hot as an iron. He grunted, but didn’t say anything. Some people were openly laughing at you. You bowed once again to properly repeat the apology, but once your head went down, his body went upwards in a standing up motion.
The sound of both your heads colliding was loud and the impact made you see black spots. You bounced back, your back hitting the opposite chair hard, as you collapsed clumsily on the corridor floor. Now everybody was laughing, except the flight attendant that was asking if you two were okay. You looked at him, his hand on his head as he gave you a deadly look. The flight attendant helped you on your feet, as you cleaned yourself.
“Miss, can I please exchange seats?” his low voice said behind the mask, the cold words piercing through your ears. He had a voice of an angel, but the coldness he had in it made you speechless. He was still seated. The attendant explained that the flight was full and begged him to stay on his place instead of exchanging with someone, because they were already late. You could sense the desperation in her words, and felt sorry for her.
You took a deep breath, swallowed your pride and anger. You bowed profusely and expressed your deepest and most proper apology. One that would make your strict grandma very proud. You even promised to pay for his treatment if he was injured.
He sighed, visibly annoyed. “Okay. I’ll put up with you in order not to disturb the flight more, but I don’t need your money. You can stay if you promise to behave and keep quiet.”
In your mind you were outraged with this petulant guy and imagined yourself kicking his chins. Who was he to talk to you like that? You had a killer look in your eyes as he stood up to let you pass. The flight attendant asked if she could accommodate your hand bag on the upper compartment. You thanked and declined, anger still boiling inside you.
As you sat down and put your purse under the front seat empty space, he laughed and took a good look at you, from your high heel shoes, passing by your knee length skirt and buttoned blouse to your head. He stared at your face and said: “You look particularly beautiful with that angry look on your face. But I’ll ask you to be quiet on this flight; I need to sleep.”
You looked at him, that arrogant dark haired guy that didn’t even bother to remove his mask to talk to you. He didn’t even look sick. He was able to get on your nerves from the start. You were so angry and were ready to give him a good response. But as you opened your mouth, the speakers announced the departure with the captain’s voice. You closed your mouth and just gave him a deadly look for a few seconds and looked away, towards the night sky.
The flight attendants passed, asking for people to return their chairs to their original position, fasten their seat belts, and whatnot. As they disappeared, going to their own seats, the usual panic started gathering on the pit of your stomach. It didn’t matter how many times you did that; you’d always be afraid of flights. Especially long ones. Like the one you were on. Especially during takeoff and landing. And turbulence. You grabbed the arm rests, closed your eyes and took deep breaths really fast. In seconds you were hyperventilating.
You heard a whisper in your ear, coming from the masked guy next to you: “Are you afraid of flying?” He seemed genuinely concerned, to your surprise. You just nodded. “Okay. Here’s what to do. I need you to breath in really deep and hold it for 3 seconds. Then you breathed out and hold it for 3 seconds. Count with me.” As you did what he said, the plane started to accelerate to takeoff. He counted with you, your eyes still closed. You grabbed the armchairs really tight as the aircraft speeded up.
“Do you want to hold my hand?” He asked and in the most utter panic you nodded again, a faint“Yes”escaping your lips. He put his left hand on yours and you felt yourself grab it like your life depended on it. “Keep on counting” he ordered and you did like he said as your felt the cold sensation on your insides as the plane went up.
As the plane leveled up on the air and you calmed down you heard him cough to get your attention. You immediately released his hand, your embarrassment occupying the space your fright was leaving behind. You opened your eyes and looked at him, his eyes squinted as he massaged his hand. You could tell he was smiling behind the black mask.
“Quite a grip you’ve got there” he said. “T… Thank you” you quickly answered.
“That wasn’t exactly a compliment, you know” he laughed, making you even more embarrassed.
“No… Thank you. For helping me. Especially since we didn’t start very well. Really, I appreciate that.” You squeezed your hands on your lap as you said that. You noticed your skirt had huge wrinkles and you’d have to change when you arrived in London. You pushed away the thought and kept talking.“How did you learn to help others like this?” you asked.
“Hum… I used to help a friend of mine. He was afraid of heights.” He turned his face upfront. He wasn’t smiling anymore.
“Is he… Did he go to a better place?” you asked. The way he tensed up you felt this was a delicate topic.
“No, he’s just not my friend anymore.” You heard he rummage his pocket searching for his mobile, as the voice of the pilot announced we could turn on our electronic gadgets on plane mode. “Oh…” you replied as the silence thickened. You watched his hands as he flipped his phone, he had such beautiful hands and one of them was on yours just moments ago…
You mentally slapped yourself in the face in order to stop staring. Work. You had work to do before you arrived in London. You had a while before dinner, so you decided to turn on your laptop and start reading the questions you were required for the interview translation you’d be doing.
You stared at the questions and they couldn’t be more cliché. It looked like you’d be simultaneously translating an interview with a Korean idol group by the looks of it. If you weren’t allowed to know who, the more famous they would be. You decided to get in the mood and went for your iPod. He was old school, no touch screen or anything, but he did the trick. You swiped to one of your k-pop lists and played shuffle, putting your earphones on. You turned on the volume and resumed your work.
The flight attendants passed and asked if you’d like any beverages. You decided to have a glass of wine. Well, a plastic cup in the shape of a glass to be exact. You drank slowly, concentrating in your work.
One song finished and another started, blasting your ears:
“Yeogi buteora / modu moyeora / We gon’ party like… / Lilililalala
Mameul yeoreora / meoril biwora… / Bureul jipyeora…”
You jumped on your sit as your earphones were yanked from your ear.
“Do you know how loud you’re listening to this? Didn’t I tell you that I needed you to be quiet?!” Your mysterious neighbor demanded angrily, with your earphones in his hand. He had a very pissed look on his face. “Hey!” you said as you reached for your belongings. Some annoyed heads turned at the origin of the noise. He stretched his right hand, making impossible for you to take them back.
You felt his left hand on your lap, and you desperately tried to stop him, but he was faster and grabbed your iPod. “I can’t believe you listen to this kind of music.” He said. Your throat let out and impatient noise as he started checking it out. You felt invaded and furious. But you didn’t feel like starting a ruckus again, people were already staring. So you resumed your work, typing angrily at the keyboard, translating the horrible questions.
“I didn’t even know this iPod model still existed, you gotta be careful with archeologists. They’ll take it for a fossil.” You ignored him, concentrating on the words in front of you. You glanced at his hands and his thumb made circling motions, occasionally pressing the middle button.
“Wow, almost all your 25 Most Played songs are from EXO!” you heard him scoff. You sensed his stupid smile again.
“So?” you replied, not lifting your head from your screen, not looking at him. “Is that a crime?”
“No, but I’d never take you for a fan. You’re not exactly the target group.” He simply said.
You gave him a puzzled look. “I can’t appreciate music because I’m not a teenager?”
“No! That’s not what I mean…” he started, but on his distraction moment, you grabbed your iPod back. “That’s enough looking at my private collection, sir”. You went back to work. He kept quiet for a whole five minutes. He was too quiet. Too quiet indeed. You took a look at him and he was leaning on the armchair, staring at your laptop. You almost bumped heads again.
“What the heck you’re doing?!” you exclaimed in English, reprimanding yourself to lower your voice. He ignored you, pointing to the screen and asking in Korean: “Are you a journalist or something? A tabloid writer of any sort?” You looked outraged. “No! I’m a translator! I translate things from Korean to English or French. This is just my working material.”
“Oh…” he said. He seemed interested. “Are you interviewing a Korean idol group? All these questions are pretty much standard.” He said, sounding like he had expertise on the matter. “Yeah” you answered “But I’m not interviewing them, I’ll be translating the questions and replies. Usually I have a file on my e-mail with all of this type of questions already translated, but I can’t get it from here. I think it really is a group, but I don’t know who they are, so they probably are a famous one. It’s not common for groups to leave Asia, so this must be big news.”
And you both chattered on, usually about you, your childhood, your life and your work. He listened carefully. He was really sweet, but you could see that staying put on a plane made him uncomfortable. At one point you stopped working and just put away your laptop. You talked and you drank another glass-of-wine-made-of-plastic. Maybe two.
He kept asking you about your favorite songs, your favorite singers, who did you like best in EXO…“Okay, that’s really a strange question” you said. “But that’s gotta be Chen. He is just the best singer on that damn group and he is so underrated. I get tingles all over when he reaches those high notes. And he is so. Damn. Hot”. You dramatically stated, finishing your drink. You could tell he was smiling under the mask again.
Dinner came and you couldn’t be happier to see food. You felt your moodiness ease up as you filled your stomach, your senses numbed by the alcohol and the smooth conversation with this guy. You couldn’t see his face but you’d bet he was good looking. A tall, slim, mysterious, polite, with excellent conversation man couldn’t be ugly. But you felt as you knew him from somewhere, you just didn’t ring any bells.
Until he removed his mask to eat, that is. That triangular jaw with a chiseled jawline. Those thin lips. Those eyebrows, framing a pair of almond eyes, with cute little puffs under it. That unmistakable nose. When he laughed his tongue was slightly out. You were preparing yourself to shout when he put his hand on your mouth, silencing you. You blinked at him, like he was a dream that materialized in an instant. You asked between his fingers: “Kim Jongdae?” He whispered, his face inches from yours: “Yes, that’s me, but please don’t scream. I just want to finish my dinner in peace. I told you I needed you to be quiet.”
You nodded as he released his hand, and started eating. And you remember that minutes ago you told him he was so damn hot! You held his hand. You held HIS HAND! Oh my God. You poured your heart out and told him almost your whole life story. You almost had hurt him! And you called him old man! Way to go, you! You just wanted to open the airplane door and jump. No parachute.
You struggled as you ate. You simply couldn’t say anything anymore. You both finished your meals in silence. The flight attendants were collecting the trash as he asked you if you wanted bubblegum. You thanked him and reached for it. “Wait!” He removed it from your fingers in a flash. “This isn’t the right one, I almost gave you a shock with a novelty toy”. He laughed, that sexy tongue sticking out. “This one is safe, please take it”. You thanked him as you unwrapped the sweet and putted in your mouth. He took one himself.
“So, were you really surprised that your favorite EXO member was sitting next to you?” he tossed the question in the air in a low voice as he putted his mask back on. You felt your face become hot and you nervously looked for the emergency exits. “Ouch, you were talkative just minutes ago. Are you embarrassed that you called me hot and didn’t even noticed it was me?” He had his body turned towards you. His arm supported by the armchair between you held his tilted head and pressed his gorgeous face.
“I bet you are having so much fun with this.” You said quietly. He laughed and said: “Okay, just forget who I am and let’s keep talking. I haven’t had a good conversation like this in a while and I can’t sleep yet. Please?” And he blinked his eyes repeatedly, making you laugh. You nodded positively.
All around you people were reading, sleeping or getting distracted by the on board leisure options. You both were engaged in conversation and as the time passed by you discovered a great deal of things in common. It was so easy to talk to him and you almost forgot he was famous. But in your heart you felt excited and warm. You told yourself it must be because you were talking to a celebrity. But that couldn’t be entirely true. You’ve met a great deal of famous people on your line of work and never felt like this. Like you could fly higher than the clouds outside your window.
Sleep was beginning to win you over, and when the voice in the speakers announced they would dim the lights, you both agreed to rest, inclining your chairs. You were really sleepy, but your heart was pounding in your chest and your head was light as a feather. You heard him breathing next to you and you let darkness embraced you as you relaxed your body, lulled by the rhythm of his chest.
You woke up a couple of hours later with a slight headache and an unbearable need to go to the bathroom. You cursed yourself for drinking too much. You didn’t want to wake him up, he was so serene and cute. So you did your best to jump over him, quietly. You smiled to yourself as you reached the corridor and he was still asleep.
You tiptoed your way to the restroom, did your business and went back. You were thinking that when you woke up you were really wet, nothing to do with your urge to go to the bathroom. But honestly, you were so sleepy you just wanted to get back at your seat.
You reached your lane. You passed your left leg above him, but as you were standing your ground to pass your other leg, the plane slightly bumped, making you lose your balance and you landed on his lap. You reached for the armrests for support, in order to get back up, praying he would still be asleep. But you felt a pair of hands grabbing your waist and pulling you closer. He held you tightly from your back as you froze.
You dared to look back to see his eyes wide awake, darting at yours. With his left hand he took off his mask, that sexy smile playing on his lip. You noticed the shape of his face when he smiled. He looked way hotter in person. You looked upfront again, trying to gather your thoughts.
He rearranged himself on his chair, sitting upwards and taking you with him. You were straddling him backwards. Your bodies so close you could feel him breathing. You felt bewitched. That sensation rushing in your body once again, stronger, making you feel dizzy. He heard him lick his lips. His right hand on your back and his left danced in your legs.
You desperately looked around to see if anyone had seen you but every passenger on the first class was sound asleep. Most of them were wearing sleeping masks. His fingers reached deeper in your thigh. You turned your upper body towards Jongdae. You looked at him, desire burning in his eyes and you felt a chill across your spine when his right hand went under your blouse, caressing your lower back.
You instinctively grabbed his hand. He looked at you, worry crossing his face. He mouthed to you:“Do you want me to stop?” You shook your head denying it and formed the phrase on your lips:“They’ll see us”. He smirked, leaning forward and whispering in your left ear: “I told you from the beginning I needed you to keep quiet… But I never thought you’d make me feel this high…” and kissed your neck.
It required all your strength to not moan loudly. You felt your body relax under his touch, his soft lips gently pressing your skin, his tongue licking you delicately. His right hand was still on your back. His left hand danced on your inner thigh, your already wrinkled skirt so up your body it was indecent.
You felt your body respond to his touch, and you opened your legs wider as his hands went further. You leaned yourself against his body as his fingers reached the edge of your panties. You felt his right hand coming up and undoing your bra with one motion. His slick pianist fingers went under your underwear as you felt light headed. Both his hands working gently in your skin; his right cupping your right breast and his left between your slit. You lost track of time and felt like you were on cloud nine.
He moved from your neck to your ear, nibbling it. As he kept going and you were breathing heavier, his right hand abandoned the inside of your blouse to cover your mouth. His left thumb rubbing your clit more and more precisely as his index and middle fingers played on the edge of your folds. You were flying more and more high, your hips rocking on his rhythm. You both were very silent, though, because nobody didn’t even notice, still on deep slumber.
You felt tension accumulating as the usual feeling began to gather on your core. You were coming closer, and your hips grinded on his lap. When his middle finger penetrated you, hard but not very deep, you started your way towards ecstasy. At the same time, he pinched your delicate nerves with his thumb and index fingers, then you came undone. You opened your mouth involuntarily, hair leaving your lungs, but he was quicker and placed his index and middle right fingers on your mouth, making you suck them.
He kept this posture for a few seconds and you felt your body collapsing. You felt so satisfied but your sleepiness made you weak, so you were falling on your left side and almost landed on the window. But he grabbed you, helping you back to your seat. Your eyes were heavy and you saw his shadow covering you with a blanket, his face really close to yours. You whispered more to yourself: “he’s so much hotter in person, but this gotta be a dream…” and you surrender yourself to Morpheus’ realm.
You woke up on the same position, the smiling flight attendant calling you. You looked up and the plane was almost empty. Jongdae was nowhere in sight. You asked yourself mentally if this was really a dream, induced by your sleep privation and the alcohol. You saw the flight attendant looking at you, as if waiting for your response. You apologized. “I’m sorry, did you talk to me? I’m still waking up”. She gave one of those well trained smiles and repeated: “No problem, ma’am. I was just informing you we arrived in London and you have to surrender your immigration documents.”
You thanked her and took the paper and pen she was holding towards you. You scribbled the words on a hurry, and looked at your pulse watch. You were going to be late! You gathered your stuff quickly, already imagining the mess you were when you got close to a mirror. But the flight attendant didn’t leave her spot. You looked at her and gave a look that said: “anything else?” without any words. She offered you a piece of paper, saying: “The young gentleman next to you asked me to give you this before he left.”
You took the folded paper in your hands and then she kept going: “He said he had to get going, but asked me to wake you up the later I could. He said you were probably very tired and with jet lag.” She smiled, but not the same smile from before. She was almost… smirking. As if she knew something. That said, she graciously walked away leaving you speechless.
You opened the paper to read: “Last night you got me flying up. I have to go, but please call me. I took your iPod as a hostage. XOXO, Jongdae.” And under it a phone number. His phone number. Your heart started to race as the realization that last night was real hitting your face.
“No!” you reprehended yourself. “Work! I’ll be late” and you rushed to landing and customs procedures. In the middle of the process you went to the bathroom in the airport and fixed yourself the best you could. You brushed your teeth and did something with your hair. You had to enter a stall to fix your bra and skirt that was all wrinkles. But you didn’t have your luggage to change and your time was finishing fast.
So you got your bags on the treadmill and got out of the airport headed to downtown London. You arrived almost running at the hotel the interview would be held. It was still very early, but London never stops. At the end you got there 30 minutes earlier. Your boss was very serious and a little bit mad you weren’t at least an hour earlier like you used to. But you got permission to change quickly, and you had time to finish translating the questions.
You took your seat next to the interviewer, a beautiful blond woman. You had worked with her a few times before, and you greeted her. She asked how you were and you made some small talk. “You look beautiful today. I don’t know, you look so happy as if you could fly out this window at any given moment, love” she giggled. You smiled and felt yourself blush. You changed subjects. You weren’t that close after all.
“So, who are we interviewing today?” you asked. “My boss won’t tell me but I guess it’s an idol group.” You completed.
“Oh yes, it’s a Korean idol group indeed.” She nodded positively. “But I don’t know who they are, I’m afraid. They had lovely faces. Although I don’t remember their names.” And the subject faded away, both of you busy with the finishing touches.
You heard a mob coming towards the room, flashes going crazy from the reporters’ cameras, indistinguishable shouting as the reporters swarmed around a group of nine beautiful and well-groomed boys. You didn’t get to peak at them, still translating the last questions. As you read this question, something clicked in your head: “You were the last one to get here, you arrived on an early flight this morning. How was the flight? Do you want to go shopping or sightseeing?”
You lifted your head and your jaw dropped. EXO was in front of you, taking their sits. And the last one to take a sit was… Jongdae. You closed your mouth as you looked away, embarrassment and excitement growing in your core.
The interview started and you translated it perfectly. Jongdae didn’t acknowledge you and your heart was beating fast. You tried your best to keep your professional attitude. It was his time to get a question. As you repeated the inquiry directed at him, your eyes met and you could swear you saw a flick of a smile cross his face.
He answered: “The flight was great; it was like a dreamy reality.” His friends looked at each other and at him with puzzled looks. You translated his reply to the interviewer. He kept going: “I definitely want to go sightseeing but first I want to attend some unfinished business.” Your stomach sank as he held his gaze towards you, flashes of last night dancing in your head. You smiled fully before translating his answer. You and him the only ones smiling in the room with your shared secret, all other people looking puzzled with his reply.

Notes

This is a fictional story. Any similarities to real people are unintentional.
This story contains mature themes. All the stories of this author are from the genre SMUT, but it may contain others.
By reading this story you agree that you are 18 years or older.
The author does not authorize the reproduction of this material, fully or partially.