#pumpkingut5

You can’t help but chuckle at the silly actions of your boyfriend, absolutely head over heels for this man. But you climb a grand total of two steps before you turn around to look at him “you comin’?” You question, concerned for the man behind you.

He looks pale, a little too pale for your liking and beads of sweat are begining to form at his temple. The silence almost feels thick, well, that is until he seems to break out of some sort of trance. “Yeah, yeah im coming.” He rubs his eyes.

When he steps up next to you, you grasp his hand in yours, giving it an extra squeeze. “You alright?” You ask, feeling the tension in his shoulders.

“Mhm, Im fine.” Was his answer. Sure. very convincing Duff, maybe he should tell you that when he doesn’t look like he’s going to puke.

As you reach the top of the stairs, you nod your head into the far corner of the plane. You don’t get much of a reaction out of him besides a small hum, something you wouldn’t have heard if you wasn’t paying attention.

Unease slowly creeps through your veins, unfamiliar with this version of your boyfriend. You scan back thoughts of the day, trying to pinpoint what was going on—why he was acting this way—. That’s when it hit you. Planes— you were about to fly on a plane. Duff was terrified of planes. How could you forget?

It all started to make sense now, the way he was completely fine the first few weeks of the tour, up until the European leg where you of course have to take a flight. Poor guy was scared out of his mind and you had completely failed to notice.

Immediately, you followed him to your seat on the sofa next to him. He was sat with his legs spread wide, one bouncing speedily up and down. Your hand brushed his knee, trying to provide whatever comfort you could for the time being. When his leg stopped moving after your touch, a small feeling of victory crept through your head, evident in the little smile on your face.

The thing with Duff, is that he was fine when in the air, it was the take offs and landings that made him nervous. So the Second that announcement was made to put your seatbelts on, you ran your hand up his leg until you reached his hand, covering it with your own. He squeezed your hand in a silent thank you, a gesture of appreciation without really doing anything. To you, everyone else (the band) on the plane right now didn’t exist, it was just you and him, joined together by one simple hand touch.

His head turned to yours, and his glassy eyes searched your face. The looks he was giving you spoke more than words ever could.

After the plane had taken off, and you had started to just cruise in the air, both you and Duff released your seatbelts, stretching out and cracking tired joints. You could tell he had remaining fear from the way his hands were shaking, so you took it upon yourself to help him, to make his negative thoughts dissapear for just a few hours.

You scootch up to the end of the sofa, laying your legs out long, and spreading them just a little. He looked at you with what could only be described as pure confusion. “What’re you doin’ honey?”

“Lay, now, head here.” You say while patting your inner thigh. If he was going to complain, it had completely dissolved by the time that his head was rested in between your legs. Despite the innuendo, it was quite innocent. His eyes were looking up at the ceiling, while content sighs poured from his lips, especially when you started playing with his hair.

If you carried on the way you were, scratching his scalp perfectly, and softly humming in a way that makes him melt, then he was going to fall asleep in no time.

He doesn’t verbally thank you for your kindness, but he shows it, in the way he lightly squeezes your thighs, and the way he looks at you like you have hung the stars yourself. And when you exit the plane, panic free, he pulls you into a hug and places a delicate kiss along your hairline.

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