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impala_chickTitle: Soaking Wet
Fandom: Masters of the Air (TV)
Pairing: Harry "Croz" Crosby/Robert "Rosie" Rosenthal
Rated: Explicit
Word Count: 2,083
Summary: Rosie and Harry are enjoying a night out in London when a storm rolls in.
Tags: Drunken shenanigans, Drunk Sex, Hotel Sex, Getting together.
A/N: I started this WIP a year ago and finally finished it. Written for the Dark Academia Bingo square A Storm Rolling In.
Fic on AO3
If anyone had earned a break, it was Rosie. When he finally landed a weekend pass, he made sure Harry got one too, much to Harry’s surprise and delight.
Harry felt like he and Rosie could not have been more different. Where Harry was anxious and nervous, Rosie was calm and collected. When Harry thought he was going to tear his hair out from stress while grounded, Rosie was the one to soothe him with some inspiring words even though he had to fly. And yet, they’d still managed to find things they had in common. Like a love for great Jazz bars.
That’s probably why Rosie had invited Harry on his London weekend in the first place. They spent the whole night at a jazz club, dancing and laughing and drinking. They emerged from the club properly wasted and Harry could not remember the last time he felt so loose. So free. The night air was cold against his cheeks, but it did nothing to sober him up.
They were so busy talking about the last band that Harry totally lost track of where they were going. When he tried to gather information from the street signs, he realized they were walking down a darkened alleyway that did not look very friendly and there were no street signs in sight. Harry debated the merits of not saying anything about it. On the one hand, Rosie appeared perfectly content to walk along the street, his shoulder occasionally bumping Harry. On the other hand, Harry was getting really tired and he did not want to have to sleep in a ditch.
Harry was supposed to be the best navigator they had. Day in and day out, every man in the 100th was relying on him to be precise and perfect with every single map. His hand ached from all of his charting. But now he couldn’t even manage to get them to their hotel. Each step they took made Harry’s skin feel tighter and tighter, and anxiety started to climb up his throat like bile.
“I think we’re lost,” Harry finally blurted out.
Rosie reached out and took Harry’s hand, his fingers easily slipping between Harry’s in the dark. When he squeezed, Harry remembered to breathe again.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Rosie said gently. “I know where we are.”
“I’m sorry,” Harry mumbled, not even sure what he was sorry about. He held on tight to Rosie’s hand so that he wouldn’t let go. They were well hidden in the shadows. They’d probably be safe.
“Don’t be.” Rosie shook his head firmly. “I’m having a great night.”
A huge streak of golden lightning flashed overhead. Harry glanced up at the sky, and saw the dark rain clouds suspended above them. It didn’t take a meteorologist to know it was about to rain. He was thankful neither of them were in a Fort.
“We gotta go before the rain starts,” Harry said, and he began to run with Rosie in tow. Their boots made satisfying clomping sounds against the cobblestones as Rosie dutifully kept up.
“You don’t even know where we’re going!” Rosie shouted.
“Oh, right.” Harry huffed and slowed them to a brisk walk. “Lead on, then.”
Rosie laughed before he tugged Harry around a corner and then he took off running again. Harry had to grab his hat with his other hand to keep it from flying off as he ran.
But they weren’t fast enough. A huge boom of thunder shook the ground. The sky opened up and rain drops pelted them. It wasn’t long before cold rivulets ran down the back of Harry’s neck, making him shiver.
“Almost there!” Rosie yelled over the sound of rain splashing to the ground. Another streak of lightning lit up the city, and Harry marveled at the beauty of the storm.
Finally they reached a bright red awning that Rosie must have somehow been able to read. He pushed the door open and extended his arm like a butler, ushering Harry inside. They were both soaking wet, which made the situation seem almost comical.
“After you, sweetheart,” Rosie teased.
Harry poked him in the stomach as he walked past him, and then parked himself on a chair in the lobby to wait for Rosie to check them in. He was careful to perch himself at the very edge, so as not to get the chair wet. From this vantage point he could steal a glance at the way Rosie’s wet dress uniform slacks clung to his ass.
Once Rosie received the key to a room with two beds, Harry gleefully followed Rosie up the stairs. Harry had already had one of the best nights of the entire war. And now he was going to enjoy a huge, fancy hotel bed in a mostly-private room. Harry could hardly think of anything that could make the night better.
Rosie unlocked the door, and Harry gasped as he stepped inside. It was indeed beautiful. The beds had crisp red sheets, and there was an opulent red curtain drawn halfway across the large window. There was even a vanity with a plush ottoman and a small table with two chairs under the window.
Harry noticed robes hanging in the closet next to the bathroom, and eagerly started stripping off his soaking wet uniform. He kicked his shoes somewhere near the bathroom door, then pulled out his belt and dropped his trousers. He’d worry about folding them later. Next came his tie. He didn’t bother taking it all the way off before he started unbuttoning his shirt.
That’s when he heard Rosie clear his throat.
“Uh, Croz?”
“Yeah?” Harry turned around and found Rosie staring at him, his eyes wide. “Oh shit, sorry, I’ll go to the bathroom.”
“You don’t have to.” Rosie said in a small voice.
Harry paused with his hands still on his shirt buttons. He wasn’t too drunk to notice that Rosie’s cheeks were flushed and his mouth had fallen open. Rosie’s eyes traveled up and down Harry’s body, pausing at his exposed thighs and his chest, and then his mouth. He looked hungry.
Harry made a split second decision that he never would have made if he wasn’t buzzed.
“The wet look is doing it for you?” Harry ventured, ready to play it off as a joke.
“You could say that,” Rosie said slowly.
Either Rosie was messing with him, or he was daring him to make the next move. Harry decided to roll with it.
“Well in that case.” Harry slid his shirt off his shoulders and let it fall to the floor with a wet plop.
And then Rosie dropped to his knees, right there in the hotel room.
Harry’s heart nearly stopped beating from shock. He’d had his suspicions about Rosie’s proclivities, and he’d sure as hell enjoyed flirting with him all night. He thought they were playing a game. But now Rosie seemed serious.
“Are you sure about this?” Harry whispered.
Rosie nodded his head.
“God, just let me -” Rosie rambled.
His voice sounded wrecked already. Like he was willing to beg if only Harry would ask him to.
“Yeah, okay. Whatever you want,” Harry breathed, every part of his body tense and focused on Rosie.
Rosie smiled so sweetly, his eyes soft and romantic as he knee-walked closer to Harry’s damp briefs and put his nose to Harry’s crotch. Rosie breathed him in like a man asphyxiating, and Harry’s knees nearly buckled from the eroticism of it.
Rosie reached up and pulled down his briefs. Harry’s semi-hard chub emerged from the top of his waistband and bobbed between them.
Harry knew that Rosie always expected perfection in everything he did; that’s part of the reason why he was such a good pilot. So when Rosie paused, Harry wondered if Rosie was second-guessing his decision, because maybe his dick wasn’t meeting Rosie’s expectations.
Then Rosie blew out a shuddering breath, and opened his mouth, and the expression in Rosie’s eyes when he looked up at Harry left no room for doubt.
“Oh, fuck,” Harry gasped as he felt his cock enveloped by the warm wetness of Rosie’s mouth.
Rosie’s face was illuminated brightly as lightning flashed. He grinned around his mouthful, and then he was all business. He sucked cock with the same precision he flew with, his mouth confident and sure as he took Harry balls deep and held him there just long enough to drive Harry crazy. Harry gently put his hand in Rosie’s hair, still wet from the rain, and a single curl fell loose and fell across Rosie’s forehead.
Thunder shook the room but Harry barely noticed as Rosie bobbed up and down. He stared at Rosie’s mouth as the room was filmed with the obscene wet sounds of Rosie at work. Harry’s fingers pulled Rosie’s hair without even thinking as he tried to keep himself steady.
“Sorry, sorry,” Harry murmured as he loosened his grip.
“No, it’s okay,” Rosie soothed. That was the last time he came up for air.
Harry’s thighs were shaking as a bright flash from the storm momentarily bathed them in golden light. Harry Rosie’s wet curls looked pronounced and beautiful, and Harry held that image in his mind when he squeezed his eyes shut.
Another clap of thunder seemed to herald Harry’s orgasm. His body shook as he gasped and shot his load down Rosie’s throat.
He came back to his own body slowly, his whole body tingling from pleasure. He delicately pulled his dick out of Rosie’s mouth and watched as drool and come dripped down his chin.
“Goddamn.” Harry sank to his knees like a ragdoll. His head was buzzing like he was drunk again.
Rosie reached down to unbuckle his belt, and Harry batted his hands away.
“Let me touch you.” Harry clumsily popped the button of Rosie’s soaking wet slacks. It was hard to tell if they were wet from the rain or from pre-come. Rosie leaned forward, as if he wanted to get as close to Harry as he could.
His lips were warm against Harry’s ear, then Harry’s cheek, as Harry slid down the zipper. If Harry had tipped his face just a little to the right, they would have been kissing. But Harry was on a mission.
He finally had enough room to put his hand into Rosie’s pants.
He spit on his hand, and then wrapped his fingers around Rosie’s dick. It was heavy in his palm. Rosie gasped near Harry’s ear and scraped his teeth along Harry’s cheek before he rested his forehead against Harry’s shoulder.
“Yeah? Like that?” Harry asked.
He felt Rosie nod against his shoulder, and Harry slid his fist up and down Rosie’s dick. Even though lightning flashed again outside their window, Harry could hardly see Rosie’s dick because their bodies were so close together.
Harry’s rhythm faltered for a moment when the roar of the thunder startled him. But he didn’t let go, and he felt Rosie’s fingers gripping his hip. It didn’t take long before Rosie grunted and spilled warm and wet over Harry’s fist, and Harry felt giddy from accomplishment.
“You know, doing this on the floor was a good idea,” Harry drawled.
Rosie snorted a laugh. “Why’s that?”
“The bed is still clean, so we can get in it.”
That made Rosie guffaw louder as they helped each other to their feet. Rosie peeled off his soiled pants, and then Harry helped Rosie unbutton the shirt they'd never gotten around to taking off.
“I hope they do laundry here,” Rosie mused as he laid their wet clothes out on the little table.
Harry grinned and helped with the clothes. “Lucky for us, the storm gives us plausible deniability for the state of our uniforms.”
Rosie looked over at Harry with warmth in his eyes. “Lucky, indeed.”
They climbed into the same bed after that without Harry having to ask. Harry thought about rolling onto his side and kissing Rosie, but he didn’t want to risk Rosie moving to the other bed. Instead, Harry pressed his thigh up against Rosie’s under their luxurious sheets. Rosie pressed back, still awake. When he glanced over, a curl was still there on Rosie’s forehead, and Harry touched it with his fingertips.
Rosie smiled softly, and they stared at each other as lightning momentarily lit up the room.
“Good night,” Rosie whispered.
“G’night,” Harry said back.
Thunder boomed and Harry jumped. Rosie, mercifully, didn’t laugh. He just pulled Harry closer.
/fin.
Fandom: Masters of the Air (TV)
Pairing: Harry "Croz" Crosby/Robert "Rosie" Rosenthal
Rated: Explicit
Word Count: 2,083
Summary: Rosie and Harry are enjoying a night out in London when a storm rolls in.
Tags: Drunken shenanigans, Drunk Sex, Hotel Sex, Getting together.
A/N: I started this WIP a year ago and finally finished it. Written for the Dark Academia Bingo square A Storm Rolling In.
Fic on AO3
If anyone had earned a break, it was Rosie. When he finally landed a weekend pass, he made sure Harry got one too, much to Harry’s surprise and delight.
Harry felt like he and Rosie could not have been more different. Where Harry was anxious and nervous, Rosie was calm and collected. When Harry thought he was going to tear his hair out from stress while grounded, Rosie was the one to soothe him with some inspiring words even though he had to fly. And yet, they’d still managed to find things they had in common. Like a love for great Jazz bars.
That’s probably why Rosie had invited Harry on his London weekend in the first place. They spent the whole night at a jazz club, dancing and laughing and drinking. They emerged from the club properly wasted and Harry could not remember the last time he felt so loose. So free. The night air was cold against his cheeks, but it did nothing to sober him up.
They were so busy talking about the last band that Harry totally lost track of where they were going. When he tried to gather information from the street signs, he realized they were walking down a darkened alleyway that did not look very friendly and there were no street signs in sight. Harry debated the merits of not saying anything about it. On the one hand, Rosie appeared perfectly content to walk along the street, his shoulder occasionally bumping Harry. On the other hand, Harry was getting really tired and he did not want to have to sleep in a ditch.
Harry was supposed to be the best navigator they had. Day in and day out, every man in the 100th was relying on him to be precise and perfect with every single map. His hand ached from all of his charting. But now he couldn’t even manage to get them to their hotel. Each step they took made Harry’s skin feel tighter and tighter, and anxiety started to climb up his throat like bile.
“I think we’re lost,” Harry finally blurted out.
Rosie reached out and took Harry’s hand, his fingers easily slipping between Harry’s in the dark. When he squeezed, Harry remembered to breathe again.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Rosie said gently. “I know where we are.”
“I’m sorry,” Harry mumbled, not even sure what he was sorry about. He held on tight to Rosie’s hand so that he wouldn’t let go. They were well hidden in the shadows. They’d probably be safe.
“Don’t be.” Rosie shook his head firmly. “I’m having a great night.”
A huge streak of golden lightning flashed overhead. Harry glanced up at the sky, and saw the dark rain clouds suspended above them. It didn’t take a meteorologist to know it was about to rain. He was thankful neither of them were in a Fort.
“We gotta go before the rain starts,” Harry said, and he began to run with Rosie in tow. Their boots made satisfying clomping sounds against the cobblestones as Rosie dutifully kept up.
“You don’t even know where we’re going!” Rosie shouted.
“Oh, right.” Harry huffed and slowed them to a brisk walk. “Lead on, then.”
Rosie laughed before he tugged Harry around a corner and then he took off running again. Harry had to grab his hat with his other hand to keep it from flying off as he ran.
But they weren’t fast enough. A huge boom of thunder shook the ground. The sky opened up and rain drops pelted them. It wasn’t long before cold rivulets ran down the back of Harry’s neck, making him shiver.
“Almost there!” Rosie yelled over the sound of rain splashing to the ground. Another streak of lightning lit up the city, and Harry marveled at the beauty of the storm.
Finally they reached a bright red awning that Rosie must have somehow been able to read. He pushed the door open and extended his arm like a butler, ushering Harry inside. They were both soaking wet, which made the situation seem almost comical.
“After you, sweetheart,” Rosie teased.
Harry poked him in the stomach as he walked past him, and then parked himself on a chair in the lobby to wait for Rosie to check them in. He was careful to perch himself at the very edge, so as not to get the chair wet. From this vantage point he could steal a glance at the way Rosie’s wet dress uniform slacks clung to his ass.
Once Rosie received the key to a room with two beds, Harry gleefully followed Rosie up the stairs. Harry had already had one of the best nights of the entire war. And now he was going to enjoy a huge, fancy hotel bed in a mostly-private room. Harry could hardly think of anything that could make the night better.
Rosie unlocked the door, and Harry gasped as he stepped inside. It was indeed beautiful. The beds had crisp red sheets, and there was an opulent red curtain drawn halfway across the large window. There was even a vanity with a plush ottoman and a small table with two chairs under the window.
Harry noticed robes hanging in the closet next to the bathroom, and eagerly started stripping off his soaking wet uniform. He kicked his shoes somewhere near the bathroom door, then pulled out his belt and dropped his trousers. He’d worry about folding them later. Next came his tie. He didn’t bother taking it all the way off before he started unbuttoning his shirt.
That’s when he heard Rosie clear his throat.
“Uh, Croz?”
“Yeah?” Harry turned around and found Rosie staring at him, his eyes wide. “Oh shit, sorry, I’ll go to the bathroom.”
“You don’t have to.” Rosie said in a small voice.
Harry paused with his hands still on his shirt buttons. He wasn’t too drunk to notice that Rosie’s cheeks were flushed and his mouth had fallen open. Rosie’s eyes traveled up and down Harry’s body, pausing at his exposed thighs and his chest, and then his mouth. He looked hungry.
Harry made a split second decision that he never would have made if he wasn’t buzzed.
“The wet look is doing it for you?” Harry ventured, ready to play it off as a joke.
“You could say that,” Rosie said slowly.
Either Rosie was messing with him, or he was daring him to make the next move. Harry decided to roll with it.
“Well in that case.” Harry slid his shirt off his shoulders and let it fall to the floor with a wet plop.
And then Rosie dropped to his knees, right there in the hotel room.
Harry’s heart nearly stopped beating from shock. He’d had his suspicions about Rosie’s proclivities, and he’d sure as hell enjoyed flirting with him all night. He thought they were playing a game. But now Rosie seemed serious.
“Are you sure about this?” Harry whispered.
Rosie nodded his head.
“God, just let me -” Rosie rambled.
His voice sounded wrecked already. Like he was willing to beg if only Harry would ask him to.
“Yeah, okay. Whatever you want,” Harry breathed, every part of his body tense and focused on Rosie.
Rosie smiled so sweetly, his eyes soft and romantic as he knee-walked closer to Harry’s damp briefs and put his nose to Harry’s crotch. Rosie breathed him in like a man asphyxiating, and Harry’s knees nearly buckled from the eroticism of it.
Rosie reached up and pulled down his briefs. Harry’s semi-hard chub emerged from the top of his waistband and bobbed between them.
Harry knew that Rosie always expected perfection in everything he did; that’s part of the reason why he was such a good pilot. So when Rosie paused, Harry wondered if Rosie was second-guessing his decision, because maybe his dick wasn’t meeting Rosie’s expectations.
Then Rosie blew out a shuddering breath, and opened his mouth, and the expression in Rosie’s eyes when he looked up at Harry left no room for doubt.
“Oh, fuck,” Harry gasped as he felt his cock enveloped by the warm wetness of Rosie’s mouth.
Rosie’s face was illuminated brightly as lightning flashed. He grinned around his mouthful, and then he was all business. He sucked cock with the same precision he flew with, his mouth confident and sure as he took Harry balls deep and held him there just long enough to drive Harry crazy. Harry gently put his hand in Rosie’s hair, still wet from the rain, and a single curl fell loose and fell across Rosie’s forehead.
Thunder shook the room but Harry barely noticed as Rosie bobbed up and down. He stared at Rosie’s mouth as the room was filmed with the obscene wet sounds of Rosie at work. Harry’s fingers pulled Rosie’s hair without even thinking as he tried to keep himself steady.
“Sorry, sorry,” Harry murmured as he loosened his grip.
“No, it’s okay,” Rosie soothed. That was the last time he came up for air.
Harry’s thighs were shaking as a bright flash from the storm momentarily bathed them in golden light. Harry Rosie’s wet curls looked pronounced and beautiful, and Harry held that image in his mind when he squeezed his eyes shut.
Another clap of thunder seemed to herald Harry’s orgasm. His body shook as he gasped and shot his load down Rosie’s throat.
He came back to his own body slowly, his whole body tingling from pleasure. He delicately pulled his dick out of Rosie’s mouth and watched as drool and come dripped down his chin.
“Goddamn.” Harry sank to his knees like a ragdoll. His head was buzzing like he was drunk again.
Rosie reached down to unbuckle his belt, and Harry batted his hands away.
“Let me touch you.” Harry clumsily popped the button of Rosie’s soaking wet slacks. It was hard to tell if they were wet from the rain or from pre-come. Rosie leaned forward, as if he wanted to get as close to Harry as he could.
His lips were warm against Harry’s ear, then Harry’s cheek, as Harry slid down the zipper. If Harry had tipped his face just a little to the right, they would have been kissing. But Harry was on a mission.
He finally had enough room to put his hand into Rosie’s pants.
He spit on his hand, and then wrapped his fingers around Rosie’s dick. It was heavy in his palm. Rosie gasped near Harry’s ear and scraped his teeth along Harry’s cheek before he rested his forehead against Harry’s shoulder.
“Yeah? Like that?” Harry asked.
He felt Rosie nod against his shoulder, and Harry slid his fist up and down Rosie’s dick. Even though lightning flashed again outside their window, Harry could hardly see Rosie’s dick because their bodies were so close together.
Harry’s rhythm faltered for a moment when the roar of the thunder startled him. But he didn’t let go, and he felt Rosie’s fingers gripping his hip. It didn’t take long before Rosie grunted and spilled warm and wet over Harry’s fist, and Harry felt giddy from accomplishment.
“You know, doing this on the floor was a good idea,” Harry drawled.
Rosie snorted a laugh. “Why’s that?”
“The bed is still clean, so we can get in it.”
That made Rosie guffaw louder as they helped each other to their feet. Rosie peeled off his soiled pants, and then Harry helped Rosie unbutton the shirt they'd never gotten around to taking off.
“I hope they do laundry here,” Rosie mused as he laid their wet clothes out on the little table.
Harry grinned and helped with the clothes. “Lucky for us, the storm gives us plausible deniability for the state of our uniforms.”
Rosie looked over at Harry with warmth in his eyes. “Lucky, indeed.”
They climbed into the same bed after that without Harry having to ask. Harry thought about rolling onto his side and kissing Rosie, but he didn’t want to risk Rosie moving to the other bed. Instead, Harry pressed his thigh up against Rosie’s under their luxurious sheets. Rosie pressed back, still awake. When he glanced over, a curl was still there on Rosie’s forehead, and Harry touched it with his fingertips.
Rosie smiled softly, and they stared at each other as lightning momentarily lit up the room.
“Good night,” Rosie whispered.
“G’night,” Harry said back.
Thunder boomed and Harry jumped. Rosie, mercifully, didn’t laugh. He just pulled Harry closer.
/fin.