(no subject)
019
Of all things Shige had to admit, he was afraid of flight. He could admit he was also afraid of traveling overseas (to a literal sense), but the idea of it seemed to be sinking in, finally. But this, this couldn't probably sink in in years he could count. Shige could only hope this flying object wouldn't send him plunging into the depths of the ocean, either.
"Relax a little," Koyama told him as they prepared for their flight early in the morning. "We're not flying alone."
"Bonjour, monsieur. Are we ready to go?" the French pilot asked as he saw the two Japanese men beside his plane. "You both seem ready to go."
"I'm not," Shige protested, crossing his arms dutifully. This day couldn't possibly be any worse.
"Masuda," Koyama called out to the pilot readying himself in the cockpit. He couldn't help but notice that the aircraft readied for them was merely a two-seater. "How are we-"
"Oh, great." Shige muttered.
Masuda looked over the front seat and clicked his tongue. "Oh. I may have overlooked that."
"So, how are we going to fit?" Koyama asked again, countless possibilities running in his head like amazing black-and-white motion picture.
They settled the dilemma like so: Monsieur Masuda took his rightful seat in the cockpit (no one wanted this plane to crash, naturally) while Shige took the front seat, the thinner and lighter man sitting on top of his lap.
"Honestly-" Koyama whined and fidgeted, fairly unamused at that time, "had I realized sooner, we could've traveled in another way."
"Koyama-" Shige gasped, his hands gripping tigh onto his waist. "Please don't shift so much."
Koyama shifted. Shige winced his eyes and grunted. "Sorry."
"Are we ready, monsieur?" Masuda called out as he started the engine.
Koyama turned his head and nodded, apparently noticing a red-faced Shige.
"Are you okay?" he whispered. Shige nodded and told him to keep still the entire ride. "Please."
The flight was quite short, but minutes seemed to have turned into hours for Shige who sat uncomfortably in his seat while the aircraft spun and turned in ways more than one. They arrived at Dover and respectfully thanked the pilot for the rather wild plane ride, only to learn that this Monsieur Masuda was in fact an airplane daredevil stuntman. They both headed their way, Shige quite furious at the given fact (and embarrassed when Koyama showed him the hand-print bruises he left on his waist while in air) and undeniably sore.
Of all things Shige had to admit, he was afraid of flight. He could admit he was also afraid of traveling overseas (to a literal sense), but the idea of it seemed to be sinking in, finally. But this, this couldn't probably sink in in years he could count. Shige could only hope this flying object wouldn't send him plunging into the depths of the ocean, either.
"Relax a little," Koyama told him as they prepared for their flight early in the morning. "We're not flying alone."
"Bonjour, monsieur. Are we ready to go?" the French pilot asked as he saw the two Japanese men beside his plane. "You both seem ready to go."
"I'm not," Shige protested, crossing his arms dutifully. This day couldn't possibly be any worse.
"Masuda," Koyama called out to the pilot readying himself in the cockpit. He couldn't help but notice that the aircraft readied for them was merely a two-seater. "How are we-"
"Oh, great." Shige muttered.
Masuda looked over the front seat and clicked his tongue. "Oh. I may have overlooked that."
"So, how are we going to fit?" Koyama asked again, countless possibilities running in his head like amazing black-and-white motion picture.
They settled the dilemma like so: Monsieur Masuda took his rightful seat in the cockpit (no one wanted this plane to crash, naturally) while Shige took the front seat, the thinner and lighter man sitting on top of his lap.
"Honestly-" Koyama whined and fidgeted, fairly unamused at that time, "had I realized sooner, we could've traveled in another way."
"Koyama-" Shige gasped, his hands gripping tigh onto his waist. "Please don't shift so much."
Koyama shifted. Shige winced his eyes and grunted. "Sorry."
"Are we ready, monsieur?" Masuda called out as he started the engine.
Koyama turned his head and nodded, apparently noticing a red-faced Shige.
"Are you okay?" he whispered. Shige nodded and told him to keep still the entire ride. "Please."
The flight was quite short, but minutes seemed to have turned into hours for Shige who sat uncomfortably in his seat while the aircraft spun and turned in ways more than one. They arrived at Dover and respectfully thanked the pilot for the rather wild plane ride, only to learn that this Monsieur Masuda was in fact an airplane daredevil stuntman. They both headed their way, Shige quite furious at the given fact (and embarrassed when Koyama showed him the hand-print bruises he left on his waist while in air) and undeniably sore.