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fasten your seatbelts 

Today was October 18th, 2025 - today was the most important day of his young career. Today, it really mattered that everything ran smoothly. That every passenger left satisfied.

Today was the day the long-awaited promotion finally moved within reach.

Naruto had been working for Konoha-Air for years now, and thanks to his gift for meeting even the most shameless guests with his one-million-dollar smile - patient enough, unfailingly polite - he’d properly worked his way up inside the airline. By now, he was deputy cabin lead, right under Sakura, who would soon be put on leave because of her pregnancy. Which meant: an open leadership position. And with it: more money, fewer short-haul routes, more freedom.

And today was his moment to prove he deserved it.

That morning, feeling almost cocky about it, Naruto had brushed his teeth - the kind that always flashed a touch too bright, a touch too cheeky - smoothed out his perfectly pressed uniform, tied his leaf-patterned silk tie neatly and tight, raked a hand through his messy blond hair, and stared at himself in the mirror long enough to give himself a pep talk. Because Konoha-Air had made it very clear: passenger satisfaction would decide his promotion. Home game, Naruto had thought. Easy. Gift-wrapped.

Passengers loved him. Always had. With his quick, cocky humor, he’d managed to camouflage his - especially back then - questionable work ethic so well he’d somehow made it this far in the first place.

And what, exactly, was supposed to go wrong today?

It was a perfectly normal long-haul flight from New York City to Tokyo. Like always. Flight time: fourteen hours and thirty minutes. If the wind was favorable - and according to the weather app, it would be.

The fact that the wind, for Naruto, was not going to be favorable at all became obvious pretty quickly, the moment he reached JFK and got called into an emergency meeting in the crew lounge. Obvious enough that afterward, he very nearly had a panic attack in the tiny smoking booth, where - hands shaking - he lit a cigarette for the first time in years, because something had to calm his poor nerves.

That morning, an urgent rebooking had come through for Business Class. Other passengers had even been moved to make room for this Very Important Person and their entourage.

At first, Naruto could barely believe his ears when he heard who it was.

Sasuke Uchiha - an internationally celebrated, rapidly rising pop starlet. Fresh off a world tour, with his final stop in the States and his last show just last night at a sold-out Madison Square Garden, where teenage girls had been camping out for a week, warming themselves against the already icy temperatures with nothing but devotion to their idol.

Because of some scandal - one the Konoha-Air crew hadn’t officially been briefed on, but that Ino had already unofficially collected a whole pile of rumors about - the young musician apparently had to leave New York earlier than planned. Over a cigarette, Ino had murmured that it was probably some kind of sex scandal outside a club.

Naruto could have cared less about that. He was used to difficult clients - he was always assigned to Business Class, after all. What he did care about was this: Sasuke Uchiha was known for telling his 3.5 million Instagram followers exactly what displeased him, in real time - and he’d already famously driven the stock of a well-known fast-food chain straight into the ground and turned a trendy fashion brand - beloved that very morning - into a public style crime. All because, in both cases, he’d claimed he’d been treated “disrespectfully”.

If today hadn’t been October 18th - the most important day of all - Naruto would’ve put on his biggest customer-service smile and beamed right through the easily offended young man and his admittedly dark aura without blinking.

But today?

Today, it was a medium-to-utter disaster.

If this snobbish, arrogant superstar found anything to complain about on this flight, the internet would hear about it - immediately. So would Konoha-Air’s executive team. And they would look up exactly which flight it had happened on. And who had been trial-running crew lead on KON-A 2204 today?

Naruto Uzumaki. Of course. 

Everything will be fine, he told himself, mantra-like, forcing a deep breath in and out, trying to smooth down the restless panic under his ribs. And, to be fair, everything had to be fine - because he needed the higher salary, desperately. Especially with the new sofa that was supposed to be delivered in a few weeks.

The briefing in the lounge had been crystal clear: as acting lead today, Naruto was responsible for this special guest. He was to anticipate his every wish, no matter what he demanded - for Konoha-Air’s reputation - and, even more importantly, for Naruto’s promotion.

And who could possibly be a better candidate for a passenger this challenging than Naruto?

 - 

Story @uchiha.noir

Photo  -  in the background: huge windows looking out onto rows of massive planes, an airport lounge that clearly screams luxury. In the foreground: a Japanese passport, the golden chrysanthemum catching the light, gleaming against a dark red cover as it reflects the soft glow of the ceiling lamps. In the bottom corner, white text - clean, minimal, not a single word more than necessary: “back to myself” - below it: a soon emoji with an arrow and the Japanese flag.

What a fucking show. What a fucking tour. What a fucking night.

Arms crossed, chin lifted, and wearing sunglasses that cost far too much and did an excellent job hiding the traces of a sleepless, wasted night, Sasuke Uchiha walked across the tarmac at John F. Kennedy Airport. His oversized fur coat fluttered in the cold wind - the thing that had once been mink might have been warm, but it didn’t do a damn thing against the cold inside him.

Last night had been a complete fiasco. And now, as punishment, he got to fly back to Japan on a normal plane - Business Class, at least. To show the world he was still “grounded.” And to show himself he was five minutes away from losing his contract with his label.

Tsk. They need me more than I need them.

His management had summoned him to report in immediately after his scheduled arrival - dragged him in, as Sasuke would’ve put it. As if he were meant to crawl in and beg. As if, if he didn’t, they’d march him straight to the guillotine.

And the thing was, he’d only been a little high at last night’s show. Other nights - Vegas, for example - he’d been way more out of it, and afterward everyone had called it one of his best performances. The fact that he’d ended the Madison Square Garden show not after the planned two hours but after one - without a word - well. That was… debatable. But his loyal fans would forgive him.

His PR team - well-trained in crisis response thanks to him - had fabricated a story overnight: heartbreak. Some scandal with his fake girlfriend. He needed time to “heal”.

Yeah. Yeah. Heal from the hangover, maybe.

A nasty throb pulsed behind his forehead. He curled his mouth in a faint, mocking grimace as he spotted the Konoha-Air crew lined up beside the small staircase leading into the plane. They stood there in formation, wearing the most nervous, widest smiles imaginable, greeting him with almost aggressive friendliness. A little curtsy here, half-bow there. Sasuke lifted an eyebrow, didn’t dignify anyone with a look, and climbed the narrow steps - followed by his personal assistant Karin, who surely hated him in secret.

At the top he had to slow down abruptly, because beside a gray-haired pilot - who only lifted one mouth corner in a tired half-smile and nodded - stood a tall blond man in… - in what’s that supposed to be - a costume?

Sasuke’s dark gaze flicked him up and down: dark green chinos that fit in all the right places, a white shirt with a near-silky sheen, a leaf-patterned tie, a pin with two gold stars, and a name tag that glinted just as gold.

Naruto Uzumaki, Deputy Crew Lead.

With a bright, perfectly white smile, said deputy crew lead introduced himself. Sasuke only listened with one ear - his eyes kept wandering over the broad shoulders under that shirt, tracking the movement of lips that looked almost rosy, the dimples appearing whenever the man turned on his professional smile.

Sasuke only fully came back to himself when he caught the last bit of a sentence that made him pause - and smirk.

“…will be at your service to your fullest satisfaction.”

Sasuke tipped his head slightly, raised his eyebrow again. A condescending smile lifted one corner of his mouth.

Ah.

Their gazes met over the rim of Sasuke’s sunglasses, which he’d nudged a fraction lower. He looked - challenging - straight into that pair of blue eyes trained on him as the steward added:

“Don’t hesitate to contact me. I’m responsible for your wellbeing today.”

All right. Wellbeing.

Amusement flashed through Sasuke’s dark eyes - and something sharper, something more dangerous underneath it. Almost as if he were saying: Are you sure? Are you sure you want that, pretty boy?

With a humorless huff and a curt, clipped “Mmh” he pushed the sinful, absurdly expensive sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose and moved almost regally toward the seat printed on his ticket.

When he reached his little capsule - 7F - surprisingly luxurious and set in the front, separated section of the aircraft, he sank into the plush leather seat. Karin had tried to say something - like always, frantic and gesturing wildly, her voice pitched two octaves too high from stress, her forehead creased.

But Sasuke only waved her off and pointed at his noise-cancelling headphones. Karin’s eyebrows drew together so intensely you could’ve read an entire range of emotions in them before she trudged off to her own seat, defeated or furious - who knew, who cared.

Babe, with that facial expressiveness you should start Botox sooner rather than later, Sasuke thought, only half-noticing how snide his own thoughts sounded again.

At least, that’s what that one therapist had told him - the one they’d arranged an appointment with for him years ago. The only one who’d ever confronted him. The only one Sasuke had ever respected.

Right up until it became: career or stable self-esteem. Drugs and excess or stability. Wild adventures and explosive short-lived affairs with pretty strangers who used him as much as he used them - or - Sasuke’s mouth twisted almost imperceptibly, nearly disgusted - healthy, long-term relationships.

Ew. Being able to regulate closeness and distance. Who even wanted that - who could?

After that whole thing with his parents and his brother, it had seemed so unimaginable - so grotesquely laughable - that Sasuke chose what he was best at: closing his pretty eyes, or more accurately, looking away stubbornly, and staying alone. Loneliness or not - anything was better than trusting someone again and getting hurt like that.

From where I’m sitting, approaching you seems like traversing a minefield - almost a life risk - only for you to bite down all the same once someone finally reaches you, the older psychoanalyst had observed back then. 

Then it’s better to just not bother at all, right?, Sasuke had replied. Toneless and snarky as usual. 

It had been the only boundary he’d ever set with his PR team. They could use everything about him for or against him - depending on perspective and profit. They could make him look more mentally ill, more addicted, more damaged than he already was - or, conversely, more benevolent, generous, and interested in other people than he could’ve imagined in his wildest dreams.

But when it came to his family, there was to be silence.

And so far - thank God - that had worked out.

Instead, they used his “girlfriend” perfectly to justify one scandal or another. Bored, he scrolled through the thousands of DMs flooding his Instagram inbox. Concern and sympathy here. Comfort and endless little emojis there. Hearts in every size and color - from people who didn’t know him. And who probably wouldn’t like him very much if they did.

Most of the time, Karin managed his Instagram posts - his own contributions tended to cause trouble - and she did a great job making sure the fans kept believing in the version of him they wanted. Her iron insistence on those few little words in his story half an hour ago was clearly paying off, judging by the constant stream of reactions pouring in by the second.

I mean - who could stay mad at a poor, beautiful boy suffering from heartbreak?

It didn’t really matter to him. But fine. This way he could keep his lifestyle. And keep paying for the therapist sessions he never showed up to.

Just in case. Just in case one day he changed his mind.

Just in case he decided he wanted to learn how to have relationships with other people.

 - 

By now, it genuinely felt to him like this shameless popstar was doing it on purpose - like he kept manufacturing little situations designed to push Naruto right up against the edge of his professional, long-practiced politeness. And Naruto’s patience really was thinning by the minute - or, more accurately, by every single time the small light above that secluded little pod flicked on.

Red.

Like a warning. Like… a fucking fire. And Naruto hated that this had to be the second fantasy that sparked to life inside him. Because this Uchiha was so brazen, so utterly unbothered by shame, that Naruto could hardly help finding it… kind of cheeky. Every time that tiny red light lit up along the cabin strip, he could barely stop himself from smiling - irritated, yes, but amused, too. Even his coworkers’ faces kept giving him these little knowing smirks whenever Naruto, breathing a little too hard, marched back toward the seat of his favorite passenger - the one who’d so “kindly” been assigned to him.

Over the last seven hours, more than enough had happened to send Naruto’s pulse climbing - partly from rage, and partly from the heat that kept spreading through his lower body against his will every time the next big superstar demanded him. Because Sasuke Uchiha was, almost unmistakably, playing with him.

It had started simply.

The dark-haired man - who wouldn’t even remove his oversized sunglasses on a plane - had flat-out refused to switch his phone to airplane mode. Instead, he’d offered Naruto that twitching corner of his mouth that looked like a mix of amusement and contempt, then calmly slid his noise-cancelling AirPods into his ears as if Naruto couldn’t possibly have anything important to say.

And after that, it only became clearer: Sasuke wasn’t going to let Naruto tell him anything at all. During the safety demo - one Naruto could recite in his sleep by now - he’d felt the other man’s assessing stare through the dark lenses of those ridiculous sunglasses.

Suddenly, Naruto had become painfully aware of the fact that he had to bend down to point out where the life vests were - under the seat. And that he had to stretch up to demonstrate how to properly put on the oxygen masks, his shirt tightening across his upper arms.

Under that slow, measuring gaze - those looks that shot through the too-small cabin like lightning - Naruto had gotten unbearably hot. It was almost as if the scandal prince didn’t let him out of his sight for even a second. And whenever Naruto was summoned back to that little pod, he couldn’t deny the tight feeling in his throat, the way his heart kept beating too fast, the pull low in his stomach.

All signs of anxiety, he’d told himself the first few times.

But by now, he was sure. There was something in the air up here - thin as it was.

And it was palpable.

 - 

Story @uchiha.noir

Photo  -  a shot through the oval airplane window, the evening sky slowly turning red. The clouds look almost touchable, dabbed like paint, orange streaks running through them as if someone had brushed watercolor across the horizon. It’s intense, almost aching - so beautiful you can’t look away.

It was, genuinely, a wonderful pastime.

The last few hours had - literally - flown by. Even though Sasuke had planned to sleep off his fading high, he was wide awake, feeling something stir inside him that wouldn’t have let him sleep even if he’d tried: interest. Like a hunter with his prey - watching the object of desire, circling slowly, letting it know you were there… and then, when it stopped expecting it, striking.

He had to fight to keep a soundless laugh from slipping out after his latest little stunt. Even he - despite being mildly shocked by it - had to admit he’d developed a bit of a fixation on the blond. On the way that perfect customer-service smile would freeze, something challenging flashing in those blue eyes, like there was something in him that was done tolerating Sasuke’s endless provocations.

He caught himself coming up with new little acts of audacity, just to justify pressing the call button to his right again with that smug, lazy ease.

And so, for example, he’d started an argument about things that weren’t even on the extensive menu - things he demanded anyway with such casual entitlement that the young steward was visibly nearing a breakdown. At one point, that so-carefully-friendly voice had turned almost sharp:

“You do realize wishes and delusions are two completely different things, right?!”

And Sasuke had started to find it - no, him - interesting. Almost felt personally called to provoke more, simply because the other man refused to bend any further than he absolutely had to, and was clearly only this patient because it was his job.

What was he like outside this airplane?

Sasuke blinked, faintly irritated by the thought. A strange question, really. Other people didn’t usually interest him. But other people also didn’t look at him like this blond did - who, at some point, would let out a breath like he was exasperated - playfully, or not? - and then grin wide, as if he had to make up for that brief moment of honesty. As if this cat-and-mouse game amused him, too - like it actually… got under his skin in a way he liked.

Because Sasuke was certain those blue eyes lingered a moment too long, again and again. Flicking over his body in a second-flat scan.

So Sasuke kept escalating. He ordered champagne - massive amounts of it - watching the poor steward haul bottle after bottle over, only for Sasuke to shake his head at the end and send it all right back. When dinner was served, he sent it back three separate times, insisting it wasn’t hot enough - until after the final round in the onboard microwave it was so overcooked and miserable he waved it away with a polite little decline. And he noted, with diabolical satisfaction, the dangerous twitch that had started beneath the steward’s eye.

He had him almost exactly where he wanted him.

 - 

Think about the promotion - hold on - be nice - only five more hours and then it’s done.

Naruto drew a deep breath, whispered his little inner prayer to his patience and his nerves, and headed for him. Again. 

A huff escaped him. This guy was seriously taking it too far. Coming up with something new every time, as if he needed Naruto to look at him - needed him busy. And, annoyingly enough, there was something about it that almost had a… pull.

But when Naruto leaned into the opening of the little pod again - already braced for the next piece of audacity - he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

The fine gentleman was sitting there with his sunglasses pushed up into his dark hair, long legs crossed - and smoking.

Smoking a cigarette.

On board.

Naruto’s mouth fell open - he barely caught himself before something slipped out that would’ve cost him more than just the promotion.

His mouth snapped shut again, like a fish on dry land. And Sasuke Uchiha took in that exact picture with an undisguised, gleeful malice that made Naruto see red.

He’d suspected it, but this was proof: he was doing it on purpose.

In the space of a heartbeat, it hit him: if the smoke detector went off, he’d be the one held responsible - he’d have to explain to the airline how something like this could happen, in the year 2025. And just like that, his promotion would be dead and gone.

He straightened almost imperceptibly, tried to swallow down the wordlessness and the anger - along with that weird lump that had only grown over the course of the flight - and cleared his throat loudly.

“Smoking is prohibited here, as you surely know.” His voice sounded strange, roughened, and it vibrated with an irritation he couldn’t control. Or didn’t want to - who the hell did he think he was?!

“Oh? Really?”, the other one replied in a tone so velvet-soft it practically dripped with sarcasm. There was so much mockery glittering in those dark eyes that Naruto wanted to shake him.

“Oh!”, Naruto let out a snort, and faster than his brain could catch up, he’d mimicked the pop star - who was practically draped across his seat with graceful insolence. “Yes. Really!”

Uchiha’s eyes narrowed. He tipped his head slightly, and then a grin - so brazen it sent heat rushing through Naruto all over again - slid over his lips. And before Naruto even understood what he was doing, he lifted the cigarette slowly, almost lazily, to his slightly parted mouth.

A stunned, raw sound tore from Naruto’s throat as he had to watch Mr. Shameless take a long drag, let his gaze flick up to the smoke detector - and exhale the smoke almost directly toward it.

Naruto’s eyes widened. Went nearly saucer-wide as the next moments played out in his head in fast-forward: the fire alarm. Water raining down from above. A report to the police - mandatory. The end of his promotion dream. And, finally, the cancellation of his new couch.

In two quick steps he was at Sasuke’s seat. First he frantically waved the smoke away from the sensor, then he bent down toward the young man, who winked at him so cheekily Naruto felt his nose go hot.

With one smooth movement, Naruto grabbed the cigarette between those slim fingers and drowned it on the spot in the glass of champagne sitting on the little table beside the armrest. In that brief moment - barely more than a millisecond - when their fingers brushed, it shot through Naruto like an electric jolt.

Just the shock. Obviously. What else could it possibly be?

He couldn’t help it - an absolutely no-longer-customer-friendly, “Are you serious?” hissed out of him, followed by a more polite, “Did you not listen to the safety briefing at all?!” the second part sounding like a desperate attempt to salvage at least a shred of composure.

“Hmm, I was busy with something else”, the dark-haired man murmured, watching the cigarette slowly sink down inside the narrow champagne flute. “I’d like a fresh glass of champagne.”

Anger flared in Naruto’s chest - surely the only reason for the heat in his cheeks and… everywhere else. “Excuse me? And with what, exactly?” He sucked in a breath, pointed with a trembling finger at Sasuke, then at the cigarette, then at the ventilation, and back at the glass where the smoldering thing had now reached the bottom, floating between champagne bubbles. Perfectly in sync with Naruto’s mood - and his patience. His voice all but cracked with fury as he snapped, “I’m literally saving you from your next scandal - a police report - and all you’re thinking about is your next Secco?”

“Champagne”, Sasuke corrected, leaning in slightly, then adding in a low murmur, “And I’m thinking about something else.” One corner of his mouth twitched as he continued, his voice dropping even further: “A very different kind of scandal.”

Naruto’s heart stopped for a beat.

That had sounded… suspiciously… flirty.

The ache flared again and now Naruto didn’t have to wonder why. Their gazes locked, and for a second there was only the steady hum of the engines and the soft rush of the ventilation overhead. Naruto could’ve sworn the other man must be able to hear his heartbeat, too - because it felt like it was trying to climb right out of his chest.

He watched Sasuke’s gaze slide over him, and there was something in it - hungry, openly lustful - that made Naruto inhale sharply.

Then those slim fingers closed around Naruto’s wrist. A startled sound caught in his throat as Sasuke pulled him a fraction closer. In a tone that was both velvet and barbed at once, he murmured, “I’m not letting someone who reeks of Marlboro Gold from every pore tell me what I can and can not do.”

All the while, his fingers traced over the back of Naruto’s hand almost reverently, each touch leaving a sting that stole Naruto’s breath. Then Sasuke withdrew, laced his fingers together - pious as in church, folded like an innocent prayer - and rested them on his lap. Amusement curved his mouth, something smoldering in his eyes that dragged a rough little laugh out of Naruto.

“Wow”, Naruto managed, flat, speechless - and more turned on than he wanted to be.

Before he could think of anything clever or sharp, the superstar slid his sunglasses back onto his nose with absolutely no manners at all, let out a far too hot - and equally mocking - “Yeah, wow”, and flicked his hand lazily toward the champagne glass with the drowned cigarette.

“So - Marlboro Gold?”

 - 

Post by @uchiha.noir

Photo  -  Sasuke in ripped black jeans that look like they debuted on the Paris runway weeks ago, draped across the deep leather seat of a Business Class cabin; wrapped in an oversized coat that looks suspiciously like real fur; a champagne bottle at his lips, a cigarette in his other hand. Everything about the picture screams decadence, arrogance, and I-don’t-give-a-fuck.

He’d seen it - clearly. And more importantly, much more unmistakably: he’d felt it. His plan had worked beautifully. Like clockwork, he thought, a small, secret smile spreading over his mouth. He’d expected the blond to snatch the cigarette out of his hand - and then, inevitably, their fingers would touch.

And well. Once the first step was taken…

That electric flare had been there instantly. And he’d seen it in the steward’s blue eyes, too - that he’d felt it as well. And despite all Sasuke’s cheek and audacity, the man had brought him a bottle of champagne anyway, red up to his ears, with that small, embarrassed little smile he probably didn’t even realize he wore. What else was he supposed to do? This was his job.

But even the way the steward had announced, while Sasuke was boarding, that he’d ensure his wellbeing and his fullest satisfaction… there had been something underneath it, something faint but unmistakable, that had already made Sasuke sit up and pay attention in that very moment.

This was a lot more fun than he wanted to admit.

With a rough little laugh, his gaze drifted to the cigarette between his fingers. The second one. The final stunt.

Karin had just taken the photo for his new Instagram post - her face twisted with irritation, because she was probably already imagining the reactions online in every possible shade of disaster. And with flash. Of course with flash.

First, because every photo looked better with flash.

Second, because he knew the bright flare wouldn’t go unnoticed by the steward.

And sure enough, it didn’t take a minute after Karin disappeared for the blond head to appear near his pod.

Sasuke rose from his seat like a cat, the unlit cigarette in his hand - clearly visible, practically impossible to miss - and glided past Naruto. Close enough that their chests brushed for the briefest second. He felt the steward inhale sharply. A soft, wanting sound slipped from Sasuke as he held the eye contact. A lewd smile curved his finely shaped lips as he idly rolled the cigarette between his fingers, then - with a coquettish little wink - tucked it behind his left ear.

He pressed past the blond steward and walked deliberately, slowly, toward the onboard restroom. He could feel the other man’s burning gaze on his back. And he felt it in himself, too - something hungry shooting through his body.

The hoarse, slightly broken voice of his personal flight attendant finished him off:

“Wh… where - where do you think you’re going with that?”

Sasuke stopped in front of the restroom door, his hand already on the handle. He glanced over his shoulder, looking straight into the flushed face of the blond a few steps behind him.

With diabolical delight, Sasuke shaped his mouth into a gesture that was very deliberately both the drag of a cigarette and a blown kiss. The other man’s embarrassed expression made it painfully clear how he’d understood it - or how he’d wanted to understand it.

Then, as if the steward suddenly snapped back to himself, he stepped toward Sasuke, his hand already half raised to pluck the cigarette from behind his ear. But before those fingers could even come close, Sasuke pushed the door open, slipped into the washroom in a flash, and clicked the lock behind him.

Breathing hard and grinning, he leaned against the sink, listened to the frustrated exhale on the other side of the door, and studied himself in the mirror from the side. There was the faintest flush - even around his nose - his dark eyes looked almost more alive than usual. His gaze snagged on the little smile on his lips.

For a second, he barely recognized himself.

But before he could think too much about it, he heard a soft knock - still politely restrained - and then:

“Mr. Uchiha - y-you’re not actually going to do this, are you?”

Oh, yes. Yes, I am.

Then, almost desperate, pleading: “Come on. Open the door - this will have… serious consequences.”

Good.

A rattle at the handle, a hissed, “What the hell is your fucking problem?!” - right as Sasuke, deliberately loud, flicked his torch lighter open right up against the door. The metallic click was definitely audible. Something furious on one side, something amused on the other.

“Fine! If that’s how you want it, I’m going to- ”, the steward launched into a tirade he was on the verge of losing himself in, and Sasuke took the opportunity, flipped the lock in a second, yanked the door open.

In front of the door: blue eyes sparkling with rage.

Behind it: Sasuke, who grabbed the silky, glossy tie with far too much force and hauled him into the far-too-small washroom with a decisive jerk. When the steward stumbled in - eyes wide, chest rising and falling fast - Sasuke stood there, grinning broadly, blocking the only way back out.

They were so close Sasuke could smell his expensive men’s cologne. So close that, in the harsh, merciless bathroom light, he could suddenly see the little freckles across the bridge of the other man’s nose and along his cheeks.

His eyes slid over the steward’s torso - trembling with anger, or arousal? - the muscle clearly defined beneath the white shirt. The blond’s lips were slightly parted, and Sasuke’s gaze lingered on them long enough that the other man noticed.

The blond cleared his throat, hoarse, and lifted an eyebrow in open provocation.

“First refusing to follow crew instructions, then endangering air traffic, and now unlawful restraint - yeah? What’s next?”

There was a smile under the anger. And Sasuke couldn’t quite stop his own grin.

“Indecent touching, maybe?”, he breathed - and when he saw the other man’s startled expression, he leaned in fast, closed the few inches between them, and pressed his mouth to the steward’s.

The steward exhaled sharply against his lips - then immediately grabbed Sasuke’s shoulders, pulling him closer, returning the rushed kiss without hesitation. Sasuke pushed him back against the sink with his body, and in the cramped movement of the space their hips met; the steward sucked in a sharp breath as Sasuke’s erection pressed against his.

 -

So this hadn’t been an attempt at a crime. It had been a very hot invitation.

In his already lust-fogged thoughts, the realization suddenly spread with humiliating clarity that you could also interpret “ensuring your wellbeing” in a very… wrong way.

Sasuke Uchiha - popstar, PR disaster, a walking scandal - and apparently also the type of person who simply took what he wanted because he could.

Part of Naruto was outraged. And worried about his promotion - and the couch he still had to pay off. But another part reacted with wanting, with desire, with… feeling flattered. Naruto hated how hot he found this.

Because he - Naruto Uzumaki, deputy cabin lead, hopefully soon promoted and owner of a new couch (and maybe even a new washing machine, if everything worked out and Black Friday deals were good) - was currently crashing his career into a wall in real time.

And still the heat gathered in his middle, making his dark green chinos pull indecently tight at the front. And still he’d kissed him back, found himself in a pressing, desperate, tongue-heavy kiss, one hand moving like it belonged to someone else as it slid into the other man’s neck, pulled him closer, and shoved his hips unmistakably against Sasuke’s.

Sasuke’s hand was still holding Naruto’s leaf-patterned Konoha-Air tie, like it was a leash he’d been using to command him around for the entire flight. Like he wanted to make very clear who was in charge here - deputy lead or not.

And Naruto liked it far too much.

Slim fingers slid under the fabric of Naruto’s uniform, moving with demand over warm skin, gliding across the stomach muscles trembling with want.

Naruto grabbed Sasuke by the oversized collar of that coat, his own fingers clawing into the fur like he needed something solid to hold onto.

Oh my God, what am I doing…- 

Naruto pulled back for a second, a hoarse laugh escaping him. He shook his head - helpless, and already surrendered. Then he forced out, “Just so this is clear…” - trying for professional, like he could still cling to the fact of where they were - followed by, “I have exactly…” with a glance at his watch, and then, “ten minutes until someone notices I’m… gone.”

How humiliating. How awful. How hot.

“And if you put those stupid sunglasses back on, I swear to God”, Naruto muttered, tipping his chin toward the absurdly expensive shades shoved into Sasuke’s dark hair - unable to keep the grin off his face.

Even Sasuke couldn’t help smirking. Then he breathed, “Why not? You look so pretty in the reflection,” against Naruto’s lips - before tossing the glasses carelessly onto the little plastic shelf and giving a short laugh.

It sounded real. It even sounded… kind of nice.

That strange compliment sent Naruto’s pulse spiking again - betrayingly needy. And then it hit him, all at once: 

I’m making out with a celebrity. Oh my God.

On the most important flight of my entire career.

The thoughts shot hot and shameless through him, followed immediately by one that made him laugh silently in disbelief: If I tell Ino about this… -

The cramped space of the washroom made everything more intense, more charged. There was barely room for big movements, no real way to evade each other. There was only room for broken breath between heated kisses, for bodies pressing too close, for hands that wanted to be everywhere at once.

Then, for a brief second, the kiss broke - and with infuriating, effortless confidence, Sasuke pulled lube and a condom from his coat pocket and set them down next to the sunglasses on the little shelf. “You cannot be serious”, Naruto hissed. So this shameless bastard had planned exactly this - and he’d actually managed it. Sasuke only shrugged, a cheeky, triumphant little smile on his lips as he mimicked the flight announcement: “Travel safe with Konoha-Air.”

A cracked laugh escaped both of them, and Naruto pushed into him again, catching him in another greedy kiss that barely seemed to end.

It was so rushed, so fast, so almost rough that Naruto’s breath caught as pants and underwear were dragged down and his uniform shirt shoved up. In the increasingly demanding kisses, he felt Sasuke’s hand slide down his back, pause briefly - stroking - at his ass, and then wander lower. A finger traced with playful intent, pressed with maddening cheek, until Naruto exhaled into the kiss. The blond bit Sasuke’s lower lip - whether as punishment or encouragement he couldn’t have said.

Then he turned quickly, braced his hands on the plastic counter, and looked back over his shoulder. A little breathless, he started, “Now… hurry up. I… have - ”, a rough laugh escaped him, like a bad, overused joke, “…to get back to work.”

“Doesn’t this count as work?”, came the immediate answer. There was amusement in the voice, a hint of mockery, and pure, poisonous irony. “You were assigned to me today. Weren’t you?”

Naruto made an indignant sound. Sasuke Uchiha really was audacity in human form. If Naruto didn’t find this so unbelievably hot and didn’t want it so badly - …and if I weren’t at work… - he’d already put him in his goddamn place. 

Sasuke reaching for the lube snapped him out of the thought. Before he knew it, he felt a cool wetness at his entrance, and before he could prepare himself mentally for what was about to happen, the first finger was already penetrating him. A soft gasp escaped him as he felt how bold, how exploratory and demanding the movement inside him was. And how much his insides seemed to draw this foreign body into him. Addicted, needy, greedy. 

Only a few moments later, the second finger came along. The Uchiha began to prepare Naruto with scissor-like movements of his fingers for what Naruto had felt pressing hard against his hips earlier. A rough groan escaped him. His own hand found his cock, which was throbbing and pressing against his lower abdomen. As if there was still a last remnant of reality check in him, he hastily pushed his shirt further up to make sure there were no stains left behind. Then his hand slid deeper again, stroking the most sensitive part of his erection with his thumb. 

This was all so overwhelming. And it was happening far too fast for him to really think about what was even going on.

Suddenly he heard a sound behind him that suspiciously resembled plastic tearing. His gaze flicked up - and he saw himself first. Heat across freckled cheeks, blue eyes far too wide, an expression that seemed to say: I can’t believe what I’m doing right now.

He blinked quickly and looked away even faster. His eyes caught what was happening behind him - Sasuke holding the corner of the condom wrapper between his immaculately white teeth, ripping it open with his free hand.

Naruto swallowed down a rough sound at the sight. He stared, transfixed, at the other man’s features: ivory skin, long dark lashes, such finely cut lines that Naruto barely noticed what happened next - only fully snapping back to himself when he felt pressure low against him.

-

As Sasuke slowly pressed his erection against the steward's seductively shiny, pink-shimmering entrance, a hoarse, ragged “Fuck-” slipped from his lips. More careful than was his usual habit, he pushed his length inch by inch into the tight space that immediately enveloped him, pulsing and throbbing. A hiss escaped him. It was so tight, so hot, and the air so thin at this altitude that his heart began to race. His hands dug firmly into the other's hips as he slowly sank deeper.

“Oh my God…-”, the blond snapped, lifting his gaze almost angrily and glaring at him through the mirror’s reflection, “…just do it already, for fucks sake.”

Sasuke’s eyes met his. He raised his brows in surprise, his mouth twitching, a little click of tongue against teeth.

Fine. As you wish.

And without further ado, he pushed himself all the way into the steward's soft depths, who immediately let out a fragile whimper. 

Serves you right.

He looked down at the body in front of him - tense, and yet pushing back so insistently that Sasuke’s own breath caught. The tightness gave way only slowly, but it was painfully clear what the other man wanted. Sasuke tightened his grip at the blond’s hips and began to move, as much as the limited space allowed.

The thrusts became deeper, firmer, and more demanding than Sasuke had intended. The wet, pulsating tightness around his throbbing erection was almost intoxicating. Or was it just the altitude? Over and over, he pulled the blond back onto his thrusts, eliciting a broken “Ah-” or whimpering gasp after another. The steward was very obviously trying to stay as quiet as possible, and Sasuke found himself almost challenged by it - almost tempted to make that impossible.

- 

Naruto pressed his teeth together hard, as if he could swallow the desperate, wanting sounds that kept threatening to spill. But every thrust pulled another sound out of him anyway, whether he wanted it or not. He was nearly dizzy from the intensity - especially because he hadn’t exactly expected this kind of “VIP treatment” of his own on top of everything else. Some small, stubborn part of him even thought, distantly: how unfair it was that someone like Sasuke Uchiha had to be built like that.

The rest of him arched back into it with such need it was almost humiliating. He wanted to say something sharp, something poisonous - anything that would stop Sasuke Uchiha from feeling even more untouchable than he already was. But when he parted his lips to shape a little barb - something like, Is that all? or Got anything else? - all that came out was a strangled sound that, in his own ears, sounded far too needy. One that would’ve embarrassed him, if he’d still been capable of thinking about anything other than how badly he wanted this.

Sasuke let out a rough noise that landed somewhere between a hoarse laugh and moan, and Naruto sucked in air - desperate for enough oxygen to fill his lungs. He could feel his lower stomach beginning to tense beneath the size of the cock. Heat and pressure built inside him, overwhelming, until he had to claw at the plastic counter, knuckles whitening. A louder sound slipped out - too loud - and his cheeks flared hot in immediate, mortified reflex.

His own erection throbbed relentlessly. Droplets were already beading on the tip of his penis when Sasuke's slender fingers reached forward and first stroked his stomach, clearly revealing how deep and filling it all was, before they began to encircle Naruto's length in time with the thrusts. 

“Wow”, he heard behind him. 

Naruto would’ve loved to mock it back - if he hadn’t been thinking the exact same thing. His breathing was coming in short, frantic bursts now, too fast and too hot, fogging the mirror in front of him again and again. He could feel his body reacting - shaking, pushing back, as if it couldn’t get enough.

When Sasuke inhaled sharply and his hand slid up to Naruto’s chin, a sound escaped Naruto that almost broke into something like a sob. Because he had no choice now but to look at himself. And the sight was unbearably hot. Scandalous, when he remembered where he was. What he was doing. And even worse: doing it on the flight that was supposed to decide his entire career.

His cheeks were flushed. His eyes looked glassy - wet with tears of pleasure. His lips were parted just slightly. Everything about him looked so willing, so hungry, that he could barely stand it.

He tore his gaze away from his own reflection, found the other man’s dark, lust-blurred eyes behind him. Sasuke met him with a smug little smirk that made the heat in Naruto’s gut threaten to boil over.

Naruto was just about to force out some comment - something that would at least pretend there was any kind of eye levelness between them - when reality slammed him through the door and what lay outside - not muffled enough. Not at all. Instead it was deafeningly loud: the clacking wheels of the drink cart. Voices of his colleagues. High heels ticking over the cabin floor.

It made one thing brutally clear: this tiny washroom was not soundproof.

And another thing too: that he was still at work.

Naruto’s blue eyes widened in horrified disbelief - and Sasuke went rigid, too. Naruto shook his head quickly, as if he could stop them from revealing themselves just by willpower alone.

But then a dangerous, arrogant grin spread over Sasuke’s mouth that made Naruto go hot and cold at the same time. The grip on his hips turned iron. Sasuke leaned in, his hot breath skimming close to Naruto’s ear as he whispered, “Shush, sweetheart.”

And then - without warning - he covered Naruto’s mouth with his hand.

Naruto’s eyes flared wide for a second, a muffled sound pushing uselessly into Sasuke’s palm. It was supposed to be protest. Supposed to be outrage. But secretly, it was pure arousal.

Their eyes found each other again in the mirror. The image alone was so intolerably hot that Naruto felt like he was right on the edge of losing control. Shame burned bright across his cheeks - yet it felt far too forbidden, far too good, for him to look away now.

Sasuke rasped another “Shhh” into his ear - so smug, so sinful - that Naruto immediately broke into another breathy sound that died against the hand over his mouth.

 - 

He pushed the blond's hips up a little, pressed his hand more firmly over his mouth, and began to sink into him as deep as he possibly could. He felt the hot, moist breath and the moans pressing against his palm and ebbing away into it. A helpless tremor ran through the other man's body, which pressed against him despite everything. 

The steward's insides began to contract jerkily and in small movements. It felt as if the pulsating, wet tightness was pulling him deeper and devouring him with such burning heat. He could only suppress a throaty groan with difficulty when the blond suddenly clasped his hand over his mouth and pressed it tighter against him. 

“Shit- ”, Sasuke hissed, low. His voice was rough and dark with want when, between two deep movements and shallow breaths, he added, “You’re close, huh?”

The blond nodded fast, eyes squeezing shut like he was trying to hold himself together by sheer force. Sasuke leaned in again, pressed a kiss to the back of his neck - and then, as if that felt too gentle, too soft, he dipped down a second time and gave it a little too much teeth.

In immediate answer, Naruto’s teeth sank into Sasuke’s palm.

A breathless laugh escaped him, and - either as an apology or a claim - he dragged his tongue once over the reddened spot.

 - 

What a bastard, Naruto shot through his own head, what a fucking hot bastard.

He didn’t even get to finish the thought, because then Sasuke hit that place inside him that sent a shockwave through his whole body and stole his breath. An uncontrollable tremor rolled down his thighs and spread everywhere, along with that hot, brutal burn in his lower stomach that started to knot and seize.

“Oh”, Sasuke murmured behind him, suddenly. His voice had dropped so low, so hot, that Naruto could only make a sound that got lost into the palm immediately, “So that’s what fullest satisfaction sounds like, hm? You shouldn’t keep that to yourself, don’t you think?”

And before Naruto fully understood what he meant, Sasuke pulled his hand away.

Naruto blinked at the mirror, dazed - caught his own half-lidded, fever-bright eyes - and then - everything went white for a few seconds. The room felt like it tilted. Like the world was only distant noise. Like none of this was real. The shaking took over, and he lost any sense of up or down as the crest finally ripped through him. A sound broke out of his throat - soft and ruined and still far too loud, far too willing - before his body pitched forward, helpless in the moment.

Only Sasuke’s grip kept him anchored in reality.

Somewhere far away, he heard his own broken breathing. His own stuttering sounds. He could feel the pace turn brutal, urgent, and through a haze, he registered warmth and wetness sliding down his own length.

 - 

The sight was obscene in the most intoxicating way.

And the sounds - those sounds Naruto couldn’t suppress anymore after Sasuke had overtaken him so completely by pulling his hand away - were what pushed Sasuke over the edge.

As the blonde climaxed beneath his deep thrusts, the contractions in his throbbing tightness were so intense and overwhelming that Sasuke himself almost lost control right away. He gripped tighter, as if he needed to pull himself together and steady himself somehow. But it only took a few more powerful thrusts before he could no longer delay his own orgasm. He spilled hotly and tremblingly, almost falling against the blond, whose hand now lay almost helpfully on the mirror, where it would surely leave a sweat-soaked imprint and raise questions. Gasping for breath, he remained inside the steward for a few seconds, who was also struggling for air. 

And then - after what felt like forever - they both let out a disbelieving laugh.

 - 

A few moments later, Naruto fixed his uniform with trembling fingers and breathless laughter. He tugged his chinos back up, smoothed his tie, adjusted the pin with the two gold stars - suddenly grotesque in the harsh washroom light. His cheeks were still flushed when he dragged a hand through his blond hair.

“I’ll go first”, he said quietly, more to himself than to the other man - who was already sliding his sunglasses back onto the bridge of his nose.

“If anyone asks, then… -”, Naruto started, but Sasuke cut in, murmuring, “…you anticipated my every need.”

Naruto turned halfway toward him. The way he stood there - the real fur draped over his shoulders, the huge dark sunglasses on his face - he looked like an arrogant popstar again.

But there was something else in his voice: Humor, and something… warm.

Something that made Naruto’s heartbeat speed up again, immediately.

Whether he wanted it or not.

 - 

Hours later - shortly before the descent into Tokyo Haneda - there was a Konoha-Air evaluation form on the small table in front of Sasuke.

Konoha-Air  -  Your satisfaction matters to us!

Please rate the service on today’s flight.

Sasuke had been staring at it with a faint smile for what felt like forever. He kept lifting the pen, then setting it back down again. With a quiet sigh, he picked it up once more, braced himself, and tried not to think too hard about the fact that he was supposed to rate the service - not the sex.

He filled in the details, writing as if he were signing a contract that decided someone’s fate. Which, technically - and unknowingly - he was. He ticked the boxes with maddening diligence:

Staff friendliness: ★★★★★

Efficiency: ★★★★★

Safety briefing: ★★★★☆

Accommodation of special requests: ★★★★★

Then he stared at the comment section for several more minutes.

In clean, unadorned handwriting, he wrote a few lines - his face outwardly blank, grinning on the inside - while the ballpoint scratched over the dotted lines.

 - 

When Naruto collected the forms later, he acted like everything was normal.

Like he hadn’t, four hours ago, had the wildest, most unhinged quickie of his life at 30,000 feet.

And of course he had to collect the questionnaire from the honorable VIP on board. Heat climbed into his cheeks at the thought alone. He arranged his most professional expression and stepped up to the secluded capsule, 7F.

Sasuke was sitting there like he’d fallen out of Vogue: sunglasses back on, legs crossed, criminally beautiful - and, out of sheer courtesy, one AirPod removed. He handed over the paper without a word, like Naruto should be grateful he’d even bothered filling it out. He glanced over the rim of his shades, raked Naruto up and down.

“Thank you very much”, Naruto said in the friendliest tone he had available - despite the fact his voice sounded rougher and more worn than he liked.

A small smile flickered across Sasuke’s mouth when he noticed.

Naruto took the paper, meant to turn and leave like this was just another anonymous review that had nothing to do with him - but then, instinctively, his gaze darted to the comment section and landed, without warning, on what Sasuke had written.

The individual words and half-sentences he caught at a glance were obscene if you knew what they meant: …fullest satisfaction; …extremely attentive to my wellbeing; …truly elevated service; …well beyond what could reasonably be expected.

He couldn’t stop a quiet snort from escaping. The sound was so involuntary, so strangled, it came out more like a dry cough.

“Discretion…”, Sasuke murmured - soft enough that only Naruto could hear. A real smile spread over lips Naruto now knew the taste of, “…one star.”

He raised his eyebrows, then turned his gaze back out the window like nothing had happened.

Naruto laughed quietly to himself, felt caught and embarrassed, and shoved the form into his chino pocket. “See you at landing”, he muttered, and left the little capsule as little like a hurried retreat as he could manage.

And as calmly, as casually as possible, he moved to the front of the aircraft - so he could read the evaluation in full, in peace. He leaned with deliberate ease against the metal cabinets where the passengers’ drinks were stored, glanced left and right, and only then slid his hand into his pocket. When he pulled the form out again and read it properly, he couldn’t help smiling.

You are so unbelievably shameless.

Because on the back, there was a small sticky note.

With a phone number.

And the word Sex - with five hand-drawn stars underneath.