Published by Elliott
Copyright 2017 Elliott
All rights reserved. No
part of this ebook may be used or reproduced in any manner without
permission of the publisher, except for the purpose of reviews. This
book is a work of fiction and all names, characters, places, and
incidents are fictional. Any resemblance to actual people or events
Edited by Jo Ladzinski
Cover photo by Liane
Cover design by Elliott
Zach leans his head
back against his seat, his eyes growing heavy. A few feet in front of
him, the flight attendant drones on about the safety instructions.
Zach has been on so many flights in the past two years, he can
probably recite them in his sleep. First class is a nice perk of
being on the top of the Billboard charts but sometimes he misses
playing coffee shops and sleeping in his own bed every night.
His album dropped a
week ago. It isn’t his first since signing to a major label, but it
is his first since the mainstream media has been aware of his
existence. The teenagers of Tumblr jumped on board as soon as they
realized the majority of his songs don’t explicitly gender the love
interest. In spite of the pressure to conform, he stood by that
decision throughout his writing process.
The rest of the
Internet joined the bandwagon when his first EP came out. It was only
three songs, but the label agreed to do a music video for each one to
build up buzz for his upcoming full length. The first one featured a
straight couple, the second a gay couple, and the third a lesbian
Signing with Ocean
Records meant a lot of things. It meant a platform for his music. It
meant not having to work a shitty retail job any more. But, it also
meant keeping his preference for dudes over girls to himself. He and
Alicia had been together for over a year when he signed. At the time,
the pros seemed to outweigh the cons. He’d been stealth since he
started his transition nearly a decade ago, but he’d never been
closeted about his queerness before. He knew they were taking a huge
risk on him, which he appreciated. He was willing to keep himself in
the closet, but he wasn’t going to let them straightwash his music.
It’s been a point
of contention with his PR people since day one.
He expected more of
the same type of buzz as over his EP: A couple local radio interviews
the day of the concert, maybe a few TV spots. He thought he knew what
he was getting into, but reality threw him for a loop. He’s spent
the last four days in three different time zones. By the end of the
third, he could barely remember what city he was in. London is his
next stop before starting a six-city tour across Europe.
It’s his first
major headlining tour. On his first time out of the U.S.
He closes his eyes
as the plane takes off. His thoughts drift to when he lands and he’ll
get to break in his brand new passport. Name: Zachary Allen
Orzechowski. Gender: Male. First stamp, London.
When he opens his
eyes again, he notices is the dimmed light in the cabin. The sun sets
over the horizon. He’s been asleep for hours. Exhaustion must have
taken over. The next thing he notices is that his mouth tastes like
death. He unbuckles his seatbelt and rummages through his carry-on
for his travel toothbrush and toothpaste. The inconvenience of
brushing one's teeth in an airplane bathroom far outweighs the
suffering of morning breath until the plane landed.
He bumps into a guy
about his age who was waiting outside the bathroom. Zach had thought
he was alone in first class. The guy is a little bit taller than Zach
with dark curly hair and large wire-rimmed glasses. He’s wearing a
bright blue hoodie underneath a navy blazer and black skinny jeans
ripped at the knees. He’s the kind of nerdy-cute Zach was totally
into when he was in high school. And now too, apparently.
Zach returns to his
seat. He calculates the number of hours left. A flight attendant
comes by to offer him “coffee, tea, or something stronger.” He’d
really like to take her up on the latter but he knows drinking will
only make his jet lag worse. He asks for a blanket instead.
The other passenger
returns from the bathroom and smiles at him on his way back to his
seat. Zach notices that his hoodie has Smokey the Bear on the front.
There’s some text that accompanies the image but it’s covered by
the blazer. Zach smiles back.
Zach spreads out
the blanket over his lap. He reclines his seat and pulls his earbuds
and phone out of the pockets of his cardigan. He opens his podcast
app and chooses an episode of This American Life at random. He
drifts off halfway through the broadcast and wakes up to silence.
He checks his
watch. They land in roughly an hour and a half. He puts his seat up,
throws off the blanket and stands up. When he was a kid, he never
understood why the crew told you when it was okay to move about the
cabin. When he got older, he realized those announcements were more
or less for the folks in first class who had the space to move
around. He does a couple laps around the cabin, stretching his legs
and on his third go round, the other passenger meets him at his seat.
The guy is fiddling
with the strings of his hoodie as he stares awkwardly at Zach. He
looks like he’s in his early twenties, but he could be older.
People still have a
hard time believing that Zach is 28. Trans fountain of youth, he and
his friends used to call it. He fakes a laughs whenever some
middle-aged talk show host asks him his secret, but he wonders how
they would react if they knew the real answer.
“Um. Are you
Zachary Allen?” He asks with a nervous shudder.
“The one and
only,” Zach says, rubbing his weary eyes. “What can I do for
debating coming over and saying hi for like the last hour,” he
says. He sits down on the armrest of the seat across the aisle. “I
really liked your new album.”
Zach turns on his
‘talking to fans’ smile.
says. “What's your name?”
“Gabe,” the guy
says. He’s grinning when Zach reaches out to shake his hand.
“Nice to meet
“Okay, I know
this is totally lame, but could I get a picture with you?”
Zach is glad he
managed to get in a few hours of sleep since they took off. Maybe he
won’t look like a complete zombie in this photo.
Gabe's face lights
up and he pulls his cell phone from the pocket of his hoodie. He taps
at his screen a for a moment and then holds the phone up above his
head, aiming it down at the two of them. Zach leans into the shot and
hears the fake camera sound go off a second later.
Thanks,” Gabe says before he pockets his phone.
Zach sits back
down. Gabe doesn’t.
Zach tries his best
not to be an asshole when fans come up to him in public. He's usually
more than happy to take pictures with fans, spend a few minutes
talking to them, whatever. But right now he really just wants to be
left alone so he can mentally prepare himself for the non-stop
schedule he has a head of him.
get back to your seat?” he asks.
“We're the only
two people in first class,” Gabe says. “I don't really think
He supposes it
won’t be the worst thing in the world if Gabe wants to talk until
they land. At the very least he’s nice to look at.
introduced me to your music,” Gabe tells him. “She came out last
year and she’s been having a rough time. The video for ‘Your
Beauty and My Madness’ really helped her.”
“Thanks, it means
a lot to hear that,” Zach says. He means it genuinely. There’s
only so much he can do under the guise of ‘ally’ but he still
wants to give kids what he never had when he was growing up. “I
mean, it’s what I was hoping for when I made those videos.”
Gabe smiles. He’s
even cuter when he’s smiling. Zach looks away when he realizes
he’s been staring.
Gabe says after a long moment of silence. Zach glances back at him.
When their eyes meet, this time, Gabe looks away. He’s fiddling
with his hoodie strings again. Zach waits patiently for him to
When Gabe never
does, he prompts, “So?”
“So are you --
“I don’t really
like labels,” Zach says automatically. It’s the pre-packaged
response that his PR guy wants him to use when it comes up in
interviews. He hates himself a little bit every time those words come
out of his mouth.
Gabe stands up and
walks across the aisle. He squats down next to Zach’s seat, his
arms crossed over the armrest.
Gabe says. “It’s not everyday you meet a rock star.”
nervously. He wouldn’t call himself a rock star by any stretch of
the imagination. Bruce Springsteen is a rock star. He’s an up and
coming pop star at best.
“I don’t know
that I would get too excited,” he says. “I’m no Beyoncé.”
Gabe says. “Nobody is Beyoncé except Beyoncé. But I’m pretty
sure when you run into the next Ed Sheeran on your flight, it’s
kind of big deal.”
Zach buries his
head in his hands. He made a deal with himself that he wouldn’t
read any reviews of the album this time around. On the plus side,
it’s kept his head clear of all the doubt and self-criticism that
the articles and, god forbid, the comments bring to mind. On the down
side, he has no idea what people are saying about him or the album
until it comes up in conversation.
really saying that?” he mumbles. He looks up at Gabe who just
shrugs like it’s no big deal.
“I don’t know
about people,” he says. “But Buzzfeed is.”
Gabe laughs. He
props his head up on one hand and looks at Zach like he’s
considering his next move. This close, Zach can’t stop staring at
him. His eyes are a deep brown behind his glasses, and Zach notices
the laugh lines whenever he smiles. The longer he looks at Gabe, the
more he remembers how long it’s been since he really let himself
have a crush on a guy.
There’s a word
tattooed on the side of Gabe’s hand. Zach didn’t notice the
letters inked into his brown skin at first, but now that he has he
can’t look away. Alive. He wonders if there’s more beneath
the sleeve of Gabe’s jacket or if it’s really that simple. He
reaches up and runs a finger over the crisp letters. Gabe raises an
eyebrow at the touch but doesn’t shy away.
“What does it
mean?” Zach asks.
“Nobody gets out
of this alive,” Gabe says. “I want to make the most of it.”
“Gets out of
Zach tenses at the
feeling of something like butterflies in the pit of his stomach. He’s
not falling for some fan he met on a plane. He’s not. He can’t.
He stares at Gabe’s mouth and wonders what it would be like to kiss
Gabe leans back for
a moment, almost long enough for Zach to try to come to his senses
but not quite. He takes Zach’s right hand in his left and brings it
to his mouth, kissing his knuckles. Zach opens his mouth to say
something but he can’t seem to find any words.
And then Gabe takes
two of Zach’s fingers into his mouth. His eyes flutter closed as he
sucks on them. It should be ridiculous, like a high school virgin
avoiding giving her boyfriend a real blowjob. But it isn’t. It
feels amazingly intimate. He can’t look away as Gabe’s lips slide
slowly over his fingers.
“Like I said,
it’s not everyday you meet a rock star.”
He doesn't sleep
with groupies. Ever. It’s not a practice he adopted because of his
label. It doesn’t even have anything to do with the fact that
they’re fans. He just doesn’t do one night stands. Guys like him
don’t have the luxury of inviting a stranger into their beds. And
groupie is just another name for a stranger.
usually have to remind himself of this fact. But he doesn’t usually
have a cute guy looking at him like he hung the moon. He takes a deep
He should stop this
before it goes any farther. The rumors that he’s not entirely
straight are one thing, but he’d really like to keep what’s in
his pants slightly more private.
“This isn't a
good idea,” Zach finally manages to say.
looks disappointed but he doesn’t move.
“Look, you seem
like a nice guy and,” Zach pauses. He considers how truthful he
wants to be and his gaze drifts back to Gabe’s mouth. “I think
you’re really cute. But I don't hook up with groupies.”
exactly a groupie,” he says. “And I won't tell anyone.”
Zach snorts. He's
had friends who fell for that one before. They were trending on
Twitter before they’d even gotten home that evening.
“And I'm just
supposed to take your word for it?”
answering, Gabe reaches over the armrest, braces one hand on Zach’s
thigh, and pushes himself up until they’re face to face. Gabe’s
mouth is soft against his and Zach feels the brush of his stubble
against his chin. Zach’s heart pounds in his chest. He performed on
Good Morning America last week for fuck’s sake. He didn’t know he
could still get this nervous.
“I don’t kiss
and tell,” Gabe whispers when he breaks the kiss.
actually remember the last time he made out with a guy. He and Alicia
broke up almost a year ago and there hasn’t been anyone since.
They’d been together nearly five years. He had plenty of
opportunities to cheat, with girls and guys, but he had always been
He watches Gabe sit
back down on his heels and push his glasses back up with his knuckle.
He reaches out and puts his hand on Gabe’s shoulder. Gabe curls his
fingers lightly around his wrist, pulling gently as he turns his head
and kisses the palm of Zach’s hand. Zach stares at Gabe’s
fingers, the stark contrast between his pale skin and Gabe’s tawny
“So what do
Gabe raises an
eyebrow at the question and Zach realizes exactly how much of a come
on it sounded like. He pulls his hand back and shifts awkwardly in
“Shit, I didn't
mean it like that,” he says. “I meant like -- in life.”
Gabe chuckles and
rests his head on his crossed arms.
“I'm a poet.”
Zach doesn't know
what he was expecting but it wasn't that. Gabe nods, looking amused.
“And you make a
living from it?” Zach asks.
“Nah, not even
close,” Gabe says. “I have a shitty retail job for that. But you
asked what I do, not how I pay my rent.”
internally. It wasn't so long ago that was his reality. Morning
shifts at the cafe, weekends working retail, open mics and gigs
whenever he could fit them in. He wonders briefly how a poet can
afford first class and immediately pushes the thought away. He hates
that he thinks about money so much more now that he actually has it.
His seat suddenly feels claustrophobic. He needs to move, as though
standing up will help him get away from the nagging thought that he's
a sell out.
somewhere?” Gabe asks. He stands up as Zach does, backing away to
give him room to move.
“I just need to
stretch,” Zach says.
He does a lap
around the cabin and arches his back. Gabe sprawls over the seat
across the aisle, one leg over up over the armrest. Zach can't
understand how he can possible be comfortable like that but he says
nothing. He leans against the back of his seat, crossing his arms
over the headrest and looks over at Gabe.
“What are your
poems about?” he asks.
Gabe shrugs and
leans back in the seat. He stretches his arms up towards the ceiling.
depression, getting my heart stomped on,” he lists off the topics
like items on a grocery list. “You wouldn't want to date me,” he
says. His tone is casual but self-deprecating. “I'm worse than
Taylor Swift when it comes to talking shit about my exes.”
“No love poems?”
He's partly joking,
partly genuinely curious. He's not sure why, but he gets the hopeless
romantic vibe from Gabe. He would have thought love poems would be
the obvious choice. But then he's reminded of something he read once
about all bad poetry springing from the obvious. He thinks about his
own work and wonders how much of it falls into that category.
“Not for public
consumption,” Gabe says. “I do a lot of slam poetry. The angry
stuff is better for a live audience. If I write a love poem, it
usually stays between me and the person I wrote it for.”
Zach tries to
imagine Gabe up on a tiny stage at a coffee shop or hole in the wall
bar, spitting words into a microphone and purging his demons in the
process. He wonders if Gabe's going to be performing while he's in
London or if he's just going on vacation. He doesn't get the chance
to ask because Gabe stands up so suddenly it startles him out of his
“I really want to
kiss you again,” he says.
Zach would be lying
to himself if he said he didn't want that too. He's so damn tired of
“Fuck it,” Zach
says, more to himself than to Gabe. He might be about to make the
biggest mistake of his life, but he doesn’t particularly care.
Gabe doesn't waste
time. Two steps forward and his hands are on Zach's hips. He kisses
Zach once softly, pulling away before Zach can part his lips and ask
for more. Zach wraps both hands around the back of Gabe’s neck and
pulls him in. If he's going to do this, he's going to do this. Gabe
laughs when Zach stops to breath and steers him back into his seat.
“How long has it
been since you’ve been with a dude?” he asks as he climbs into
answer right away. He traces a finger over Gabe’s swollen bottom
lip and thinks.
lifetime,” he says. Gabe laughs again. He probably thinks Zach is
being dramatic but it’s the most accurate answer he can think of.
The last time he seriously dated a guy he was in high school and he’d
never even heard the word trans before. “Is it that
“You kiss me like
a drowning man gasps for air,” Gabe says, a sad smile pulling at
drowning for a long time,” Zach says.
Gabe kisses him
again and rests his forehead against Zach’s.
“I forgot what it
was like hooking up with musicians,” he says with a smile.
drama and passion,” Gabe explains. He kisses along Zach’s jaw,
steadies himself on Zach’s shoulders and bends his head to press
soft kisses to his neck. “The only people more dramatic are poets.”
Zach can feel it
when Gabe laughs against his skin. He sighs and tips his head back,
baring his throat. If Gabe leaves marks, at least it’ll give the
make-up artists something to do. Gabe tugs at the collar of his shirt
and sinks his teeth into the juncture of Zach’s shoulder. All other
thoughts disappear from his mind.
gasps as Gabe sucks at the already abused skin.
He bites down on
his bottom lip and tries to stifle the groan climbing up the back of
his throat. His hands find their way to Gabe’s waist and Gabe seems
to take that as encouragement. He rocks his hips against Zach’s.
Zach is at once both relieved and utterly disappointed that he can’t
Before he can stop
himself, he slides one hand to the front of Gabe’s jeans, presses
his palm against Gabe’s hard-on. Gabe moans, his hips pushing
forward against Zach’s hand.
getting somewhere,” Gabe says. He kisses Zach on the mouth and
leans back, grinning.
For a split second
Zach thinks about tugging open the button of Gabe’s jeans and
shoving his hand inside. About how it would feel to have Gabe’s
cock in his hand, the weight, the warmth of skin on skin. He licks
his lips unconsciously.
And then he hears
the sound of the drink cart rolling down the aisle and it brings him
back to reality.
swears under his breath.
attendant stops in her tracks.
PR is going to
murder him if this gets out. Gabe just laughs and climbs out of the
seat. Zach breathes a sigh of relief. That is until he realizes that
Gabe is whispering something to the flight attendant, a mischievous
glint in his eyes. He swipes a bottle of water from the bottom shelf
of the cart as it rolls away and walks back towards Zach. He takes a
long swig from the bottle and tosses it onto the nearest seat.
“Now, where were
we?” Gabe says. He nudges Zach’s thighs apart with his knee and
stands between them.
“I can't – I
can’t do this,” Zach says, flexing his fingers at his sides,
trying desperately to keep his hands to himself. “I’m sorry for
leading you on.”
“I told her not
to bother us,” he says. “You don’t have to worry about your
Anger flares up
within him. He wants to say something to rebuke him, but Gabe’s
right. Zach wants this, he’s just worried about getting caught. It
eats at him how much he cares.
“But honestly, I
don’t think anyone really believes you’re straight.”
“You don’t know
anything,” Zach says bitterly.
Gabe bends down,
his hands on Zach’s thighs, their faces close enough that Zach can
feel his breath on his face.
“So tell me,”
Gabe says, his words a dare.
It’s a dare Zach
wants to take.
He grabs Gabe by
the chin and crushes his mouth against Gabe’s. Gabe gasps and opens
his mouth to deepen the kiss, but Zach pushes at his shoulders. His
hands go to Gabe’s waist and he tucks his fingers under the
waistband of his jeans, pulling him closer. He tugs open the button
of Gabe’s jeans and eases down the zipper, his heart racing as he
does so. He steals a glance down the aisle to make sure there isn’t
a flight attendant getting a scoop for TMZ. When he’s certain it’s
safe, he looks up at Gabe again. His eyes are wide and his mouth
parts slightly, as though he’s just as surprised by this turn of
events as Zach.
“Let me see you,”
Gabe smirks at him
and shoves his jeans and boxer briefs down just low enough to get his
cock out. There are more tattoos on his hips and Zach finds himself
immediately tracing the inked lines with his fingers, even as Gabe
licks the palm of his hand and wraps his fingers around the base of
The lust addled
part of Zach's brain wants to him to bend forward and choke himself
on Gabe’s cock. Thankfully, common sense remained stashed away
somewhere. He has to perform tomorrow and he’ll already have jet
lag to deal with. He doesn’t need a sore throat to accompany it.
“Let me,” he
says as he tugs at Gabe’s wrist.
Gabe rests a hand
on his back and makes quiet desperate sounds as Zach jerks him off.
It’s been almost a decade since Zach has done this. He didn’t
realize how much he missed it. Gabe comes with Zach’s name on his
lips, shuddering and beautiful.
The sound of Gabe’s
labored breathing is loud to him, even though Zach is certain it’s
being drowned out by the roar of the engines and the howling wind
outside. Gabe pulls up his underwear and zips his jeans without
speaking. He looks Zach in the eyes and holds his gaze for a long
moment. He lowers himself down to his knees and brings Zach’s hand
to his mouth again. His tongue slides over Zach’s fingers and the
backs of his knuckles as he licks away the remnants of his release.
“Your turn,” he
says. Before Zach can stop him, Gabe has his zipper down. He stops
and looks up, concerned expression on his face. “Why aren’t you
Zach can barely
hear his own thoughts over the roar of his heart in his ears. There
isn’t a lie he could tell right now that would make an ounce of
“Because my dick
is made of silicone,” he says quietly, truthfully.
momentarily confused and then slips his hand into the slit of his
says. The tone of his voice isn’t disappointed the way Zach was
expecting. It’s the sound someone makes when all the pieces finally
click into place. Gabe pulls his cock out and Zach hurries to cover
his crotch with his hands.
“What are you
doing?” he hisses.
Gabe has the
audacity to look bashful as he says, “Um, blowing you?”
Zach glances around
the cabin, making sure they’re still alone before he removes his
hands and relaxes into his seat. Gabe wraps his lips around the head,
sucking lightly and keeping eye contact the entire time. Zach lets
out a shaky breath. He reaches up and gently rests a hand at the back
of Gabe’s head. Gabe moans quietly around his cock and takes him
deeper. Zach tightens his fingers unconsciously and tries to stifle a
He arches up into
Gabe’s mouth and he can feel Gabe’s nose press into his stomach.
It doesn’t even matter that Zach’s packer is soft and not that
big, it’s still the hottest thing that has ever happened to him.
like sucking his cock. She told him once she didn’t see the point
if it couldn’t get hard. She’d rather put her mouth on a part of
his “actual body.” And that was great and all, he never
complained, but what he never said was that his packer was a part of
his actual body. It made him feel more complete, even if he
couldn’t feel it in the same way.
As he watches
Gabe’s head bob up and down the thought occurs to him that this is
the first time he’s ever gotten a blowjob from a guy. He still had
first times left. The idea that this one is happening on an airplane
with a total stranger makes him laugh.
Gabe looks up at
the sound. His lips are spit slick. His glasses are slipping down his
nose. Zach really wants to kiss him again.
shakes his head. “I just – you’re really good at that.”
Gabe ducks his head
but Zach can still see the faint blush on his cheeks. What they’re
doing is closer to a one night stand but it feels more like high
school, awkward and fumbling but no less intense.
“Can you – you
know,” Gabe starts to say. “Can you get off from this?”
pauses. He’s been truthful so far, no use lying now. “Probably
Gabe pushes up his
sweater and presses a kiss just below Zach’s belly button. Zach
lets the hand on Gabe’s head drift down the back of his neck and
settle on his shoulder.
“I really want to
make you come,” Gabe whispers as he looks up. Zach can feel himself
flush from head to toe.
“Show me how?”
Gabe asks, his eyes wide and hopeful.
Zach chews on his
bottom lip nervously for a moment before nodding. He tucks his cock
back into his boxer briefs and reaches for the blanket he’d left on
the floor. Once it’s spread out across the two armrests, he lifts
his hips. He shoves his jeans and underwear down over his hips, his
packer going with them. When he slips a hand underneath the blanket,
his fingers find Gabe’s. They entwine briefly before he guides
Gabe’s hand between his legs.
are thicker than his own and Zach shifts his hips to push against
them. He gasps when Gabe’s thumb brushes over the head of his clit.
His fingers tighten around Gabe’s shoulder.
asks, seeking confirmation.
says with a breathless sigh. “Come here.”
Gabe nearly falls
off the seat as he tries to find a place for his knees without
displacing the blanket.
Gabe says with a grin as he finally settles down onto Zach’s lap.
laughing when Gabe leans forward and kisses him. Gabe’s fingers
slide back into him and Zach gasps against his mouth. Gabe kisses him
in time with the maddeningly slow thrust of his fingers. The pressure
of Gabe’s thumb against his clit is just enough to keep him right
on the edge. He tangles his fingers in Gabe’s curls and kisses him
roughly. When he breaks the kiss, Gabe leans back in almost
immediately, or he tries to. Zach holds him in place by his hair,
barely an inch between them. It’s just enough space that he can
feel Gabe’s breath on his skin, see his own desperation mirrored on
“Fuck me,” he
It’s a simple
command but they must have been the magic words. Gabe presses his
thumb down hard and buries his face in Zach’s neck. His kisses are
erratic, but the movement of his hand is steady, intensity increasing
by the second. Zach brings his free hand up to cover his mouth,
muffle the stream of groans escaping from his lips.
Gabe kisses his way
back up along Zach’s jaw, pushes his hand away and reclaims his
mouth. He rests his forehead against Zach’s and looks into his
eyes. Zach releases his grip on Gabe’s curls and his fingers trail
down the side of his face, brushing gently over his cheek. He’s not
used to this intense level of intimacy during sex with guys.
His orgasm hits him
in waves. It starts in his thighs, his muscles shaking and then
seizing as his body clenches around Gabe’s fingers. He grips onto
Gabe’s biceps as he rides out the tremors. He hadn’t even
realized he’d closed his eyes until he opens them again and finds
Gabe staring at him, a goofy smile on his face.
His heart pounds in
his chest. Gabe’s grin widens. He stands up and Zach watches as he
sucks his fingers into his mouth and wipes off his hand on his jeans
like it’s no big deal. Zach feels his cheeks flush. He looks away
and shimmies back into his pants, adjusting himself and trying to
remember how to breath.
The fasten seatbelt
sign chimes and the captain announces that they’ll be starting
their descent soon.
cue,” Gabe says. He leans down to press a chaste kiss to Zach’s
mouth, and then fishes a business card out inside pocket of his
blazer. “Just in case you want a rematch. I’ll be in London for
He's on his way
back to his own seat before Zach has a chance to respond. A flight
attendant walks through the curtain not ten seconds later, trash bag
in hand. Zach has never felt more like a deviant in his life. He
waits until she’s passed him before escaping to the bathroom,
fasten seatbelt sign be damned. He washes his hands and splashes cold
water on his face.
When Zach finally
makes his way back to his seat, he sees Gabe with his hood pulled up,
his head tipped back, his eyes closed. He shoves a hand into the
pocket of his jeans and runs his fingers over the raised typography
of the business card. He doesn’t plan on making the same mistake
twice, but stranger things have happened.
Junkyard is a queer trans man and angry socialist. In addition to
writing queer romance, he is an artist of many media. His other work
includes subversive, feminist, and occult embroideries, acrylic and
watercolor paintings and zines about why tea is so awesome. He
currently lives in the Pocono Mountains of Pennsylvania and spends
his free time listening to audio drama podcasts, tending his herb
garden and being as queer as possible. You can reach him at his
twitter account: @elliottjunkyard