It's the Thought That Counts

It's the Thought That Counts

Pairing: Edward/Riley

Rating: Mature/NC-17 – language and sexual content.

Summary: Edward and Riley's first Christmas together doesn't turn out quite as they expected. A snow storm forces an emergency landing and leaves them stranded in an airport. A PWP Christmas story.

Prompted by: TruceOver for the Make the Yuletwi'd Gay fic exchange.

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"I hate this," Riley sighed against my shoulder, burying his face deeper into the crook of my neck.

"I know," I said, trying to soothe him by stroking his hair.

"It's Christmas, Edward, we're supposed to be enjoying ourselves, not stuck in some fucking―"

"Shh," I hushed him, trying to both calm him down and keep him from disrupting the other, just as stressed, travelers.

"Where the fuck are we anyway?" he grumbled.

"Lincoln, Nebraska," I replied.

"More like Bumblefuck, Nowhere."

I turned my head into his hair to muffle a chuckle and wrapped my arm around him.

Our flight from Chicago had lifted off fine, but after hitting a storm, we'd had to make an emergency landing here in Bumblefuck, Nowhere―as Riley put it. He wasn't a good flier to begin with so the unexpected landing had shaken him up more than a little bit. Add in a few hours of uncomfortable chairs, terrible coffee, and glaring homophobia, and we were both starting to feel tense.

The unanticipated layover was supposed to be just that, a layover. But it'd been six hours already since our plane had been grounded and the weather just kept getting worse. The snow was coming down in thick white sheets which were only amounting to higher and higher drifts. My hopes for getting out before nightfall were quickly being dashed. What was worse was that I was starting to wonder just how long we'd be stranded here―it didn't seem likely that the morning would even bring good news at the rate the snow was currently falling.

"I bet it's seventy degrees in Phoenix. Everyone is probably in shorts. Shit, they probably still have the pool open. And we're stuck here," Riley rambled irritably, glaring out the windows at the falling snow.

"I know, Ri, I know," I sighed, kissing his hair.

"I just want to be there," he whispered.

"I'm sorry," I whispered back in apology, pressing my face further into his hair.

He raised his head and kissed me softly, slowly, ignoring the rude, angered glowers we were receiving from the people around us.

Neither of us were the type to broadcast our homosexuality to the world, and generally we weren't big on public displays of affection, but it was Christmas. Christmas was, after all, about love; we weren't going to sacrifice ours just because these people didn't like it.

We were supposed to be in Phoenix with his family by now; warm and toasty in his childhood home. This was our first Christmas together, and it would be my first time meeting his mother.

He'd met my mom and dad already, and I had met his sister, Alice, but he apparently had inherited his fear of flying from his mother, who refused to step foot near an airplane.

"I should have listened to Alice," Riley groaned, shifting in his seat and leaning more fully onto me. The armrests on the chairs made it impossible for us to be very close, but we managed to cuddle somewhat comfortably.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"She said trying to fly out on Christmas Eve was cutting it too close."

"I couldn't―" I started to say, making my excuses again. I'd had to work straight up to the day before Christmas Eve; they wouldn't give me it off.

"Baby, I know," he cut me off. "It's fine, it's not your fault. Alice just thought we should have spent Christmas at home and waited to fly out until after. I think she was right."

Frowning, I didn't reply. It was too late now. We were stuck here in the snow storm and would likely spend all of Christmas on uncomfortable chairs, being glared at by just-as-stranded, grumpy travelers.

At least we have each other, I thought, once again kissing the top of Riley's head. This would have been unbearable had we been flying out to see each other. I would rather spend a long night stuck in the airport with him than anywhere else away from him.

"I'm hungry," Riley mumbled.

Languidly, I managed to haul myself out of my chair. I wasn't really hungry, but I needed to move around some before we settled in for the longest night of our lives. I grabbed his hand to help him up and he moaned exaggeratedly as he stretched. I couldn't resist pulling his lithe, long body against mine to feel his muscles straining and releasing as he relaxed.

He laughed breathily and wrapped his arms around me, stepping impossibly closer. I kissed his ear noisily just to make him squirm against me. The offended "get a room" and huffs of indignation caused us to separate before we would have liked.

Riley aimed a few well-placed, resentful glares around the room while I took his hand and led him away before something more abusive could happen.

I already knew the food and coffee was shit, but I ordered a sandwich and another sixteen ounces of poor-brewed regardless. Riley scowled disapprovingly at my drink of choice and I smiled sheepishly back.

It might have tasted like shit, but I was stressed and I needed caffeine. I waited silently, holding Riley's hand, as he hemmed and hawed around, pissing the cashier off with his indecision.

"It's not my fault everything on the menu looked terrible," he said, dropping his order down onto a small table near the back.

I sank down into my seat and sipped at my horrible tasting coffee, letting him vent out his irritation. He stabbed angrily at his food, going off about the weather and how it fucked everything up until he ran out of steam and ate like a normal human being.

I didn't blame him, I was frustrated too. Our first fucking Christmas together was going to be spent in a stuffy, poorly run airport packed full of narrow-minded assholes.

I wished we were at home.

The rest of our meal―if you could call it that―was spent in companionable silence. We stayed sitting there, just holding hands and playing footsie until my coffee was cold and more gag-inducing than it'd been before.

Slowly, we made our way back, wandering a bit just to avoid the angered looks we would likely receive upon returning. Everywhere else was either too crowded or too deserted to really take notice of us. But we were both fatigued and in need of some sleep which took us back to the seating area.

Thankfully, there were some freed up chairs in a quiet corner. The only person close enough to bother us was a woman who looked absorbed in the book she was reading. I sank down into a chair and pulled Riley down on top of me without a second thought.

Resting my head back against the wall, I sighed and relaxed with his familiar weight atop me. He reached over and pulled another chair in front of us and leaned completely against me as I put my feet up.

"Love you," he whispered, kissing my neck.

"I love you too, Riley."

I could feel his eyelashes tickling over my skin as he blinked and I wondered what he was thinking about.

A glutton for punishment, I couldn't help comparing our positions to how he'd woken me up this morning. It wasn't a safe train of thought to say the least, but it was a comfort, at least, to think about how the day hadn't been all bad.

― Fifteen hours earlier... ―

"Wake up," I felt more than heard him breathe against my ear, just as soft warmth slid nakedly on top of me.

"Mmm," I hummed tiredly.

He chuckled softly, reaching between us to give my flaccid cock several awakening tugs. "Get up," he whispered.

"Mmup," I mumbled. He was one of those irritatingly chipper morning people. I was not.

Turning my head, I cracked my eyelids for the first time to find that the clock didn't even read seven o'clock yet. I groaned.

"Not up enough for what I want," he teased, grinding his hips.

Sometimes I wondered what went on in his head. He unendingly woke up with a hard-on. I think it had something to do with our opposite morning temperaments. He woke happy and hard, I woke grumpy and, more often than not, at his mercy.

"Go make me coffee," I tried to say firmly. It came out more mumbly and whiny than anything.

"Fuck me first, then coffee."

"Can't fuck without coffee," I replied. My traitor dick disagreed.

He would win and he knew it. But if we were fucking before seven AM, without my morning coffee first, he was doing all the goddamn work.

"We just fucked eight hours ago, coffee first," I tried futilely.

"We have to leave soon, then there will be no fucking. Do you really want to spend the morning sleeping and drinking coffee?"

His hand stopped moving over my cock and I pushed my hips up in response. He chuckled victoriously at my nonverbal answer and wrapped his fingers around me, stroking me until I was achingly hard.

"Riley," I groaned when his hand once again stopped moving.

He grinned down at me in an overconfident type of way and I narrowed my eyes at him. He scooted up until he was straddling my stomach and he leaned forward, presumably reaching for the lube.

The liquid was cool against my fingers, and I rubbed it in until it was warm before reaching between his legs. I looked up at him as I slid my two wet fingers between his cheeks. His eyes fell shut and he bit his lip as I pressed against his tight hole. Pushing just the tip in, I felt him clench around me as his cock bobbed through the air.

I knew what he'd do if I didn't give him any more than just the tip, so I waited, trying to hide my smirk as he chewed on his lip and tilted his hips none too subtly. Like I said, he could do all the damn work for waking me up. This part included.

Impatient as ever, he pushed his hips back, forcing more of my finger inside. He stopped and waited, gasping slightly when I wiggled my finger. I don't know how he hadn't figured out yet that I wasn't going to play nice. He had to know by now that I preferred him fucking himself on me, especially in the mornings. Any other time I could fuck him into oblivion, but I was far too lazy during the mornings.

Groaning, he pushed back on my finger and slid forward again until it was easily gliding in and out. Then he reached back and squeezed my index and middle finger together. I watched the concentration on his face slip to pleasure as he slowly shifted back, feeling him give way to the girth of my two fingers.

He kept his fingers with mine, pressed tightly against where my fingers were buried in his body, sliding along with his movements and feeling himself being stretched.

I twisted my fingers inside of him unexpectedly and he gasped and clenched down on me tightly. He glared for half a second then his eyes rolled back in his head and he moaned when I curled them to hit his sweet spot.

He rocked forward and back, leaking pre-cum onto my stomach, moaning every time I bent my fingers just so. Admittedly, I hadn't been with many men before Riley, but I had never met anyone so keen on getting fucked.

The men that came before him liked switching, and I didn't mind taking a cock, but I couldn't handle a pounding the way Riley could. He bottomed, always, and I liked it that way. Half the time when I came home from work, I'd find him fucking himself with a toy. The first time it'd been completely on accident, but he'd learned how I reacted to that and from there on out, he made it a point to time his playing with when I would arrive home from work.

"God, need you. Edward, fuck me now," he moaned.

He grabbed the condom, and within a couple of moments, he was sinking down on my cock. I'd never get used to how amazing he felt like this; how warm, how soft, how tight. He kept going until he was sitting down as fully as he could, then he leaned forward and kissed me.

He kissed me hard, whimpering as he pressed his tongue as deep as he could. He kissed me until he couldn't anymore, pulling away with a gasp. He sat up slightly and rocked his hips, circling and grinding, but not doing more than that for long, maddening minutes.

My hands instinctively went to his hips, fitting against them like they were made to be there. I clutched, trying to urge him harder, faster... more. He kept his eyes closed but I could see the smile he was trying to fight off on his lips.

I released my hold on one of his hips and brought my hand back, slapping him firmly on the ass. He flinched, clenched, and squeaked, falling forward onto his hands on my chest.

His eyes were wide and dark as I looked up at him. I gripped his ass in my hands and pulled him up, before shoving him back down again, cocking an eyebrow when he shivered and his breath caught.

"Thought you were too tired for fucking," he asked.

"I'm wide awake now and need to fuck," I replied.

"I am fucking you," he countered, rotating his hips.

"Come on, Ri, you can do better than this. Just think: this'll be our last fuck for a week. Do you really want to go a week on this?" I teased.

Apparently I made my point because he immediately gripped onto my shoulders and raised himself up before slamming back down.

"Ugh, yeah, just like that," I grunted, gripping his hips tightly to aid his movements.

There was nothing slow or sweet about the way he pounded down on my cock. His head was tossed back and he moaned long and loud as he bounced on me fast and hard, just like I wanted―just like I knew he wanted, too.

Before long he was panting out, "Edward, please, touch me. Going to― Need to... cum."

I knew he was capable of achieving an orgasm with nothing more than something up his ass and hitting him just right, but I was close too. I wanted to watch him cum, feel it as he clenched down on me and covered me in his release. I wanted to feel like I'd done some part to bring him pleasure, so I gripped his cock and after just a few strokes, his hips started to jerk and his cum spilled over my hand and stomach.

"So. Fucking. Good," he moaned.

I held onto him tightly and arched my hips up, slamming into him in short, quick thrusts as my own pleasure peaked.

We collapsed into a sweaty heap together, laughing dazedly and clinging together. I swept back the bangs sticking to his forehead and kissed his nose.

His eyes widened suddenly and he glanced over my shoulder before launching up out of bed, hissing, "Shit, get up. We need to shower, we're going to be late for our flight."

― ― ―

A combination of odd, yet somehow familiar, buzzing and grumbling woke me up. I shifted uncomfortably, wincing before I even opened my eyes at the stiffness in my neck. And Christ, I felt heavy.

"Hello," I heard Riley mumble gruffly.

"Sorry to wake you, but I wanted to let you know we've been keeping an eye on the weather and your flight should be boarding soon. Within the next couple of hours at least. I think you'll make it here while it's still Christmas," I heard Alice saying over the phone.

Riley was in my lap, and I realized we must have fallen asleep like this. My entire body was killing me―especially my dick, which was hard and trapped under denim and Riley's weight.

Sure, now I have morning wood, I thought crankily.

"Thanks, Ali," Riley said. I heard her start to say something else just before his phone beeped and turned off.

He sighed and groaned, shifting in my lap.

"Are you awake?" he whispered into my ear.

"Yes." I had no idea what time it was, just that it was way too fucking early.

"Merry Christmas, baby," he said, sliding his tongue and lips over the side of my throat, up to my jaw.

"Merry Christmas, Ri."

He shifted again, and I bit back a moan. Riley was skinny; skinny and long, but he had one hell of a bubble butt. And it was a good thing too, because I wouldn't have been able to live with a bony ass rubbing against my morning wood.

"Is that for me?" he asked coyly, grinning against my neck.

"Mm, just for you," I told him.

"It's too bad I can't unwrap it," he simpered.

I chuckled, kissing his cheek. "Well, it's the thought that counts, right?"

He snorted, laughing quietly into my shirt. "Yeah, I suppose. It's what I've always wanted, the best Christmas present ever, really. Edward, your cock truly is the gift that just keeps on giving."