First Class: an RM One-Shot

First Class

"Thanks," I mumbled, suddenly feeling insecurity poking at my insides. I was dressed in a plain white shirt, ripped jeans, and my old, trusty Converse sneakers. I didn't exactly go for the elite look that day.

Wishing my red bomber jacket was a trendy blazer instead, I slipped past the man and carefully lowered myself to my seat. I knew I looked like a proper fool, but I didn't want to be awkward and clumsy.

The irony was not lost in me.

The stewardess bowed politely. "Enjoy your trip, ma'am."

I smiled back. "Thanks so much."

I leaned back in my seat, relishing the soft but firm support on my achy spine. Waiting for the flight and squeezing myself smaller for Ace was not fun for my bones. I groaned quietly, wanting to twist my torso to crack my back. Would that look weird and inappropriate?

"You okay?" the deep, throaty voice beside me asked. I whirled my head to face him, and felt my eyes widen.

He was a helluva lot younger than I assumed from his timbre. His almond shaped eyes were framed by a thick pair of hipster specs, but it didn't nothing to hide his strikingly handsome face. His hair was a shock of deep, dirty blonde, swept haphazardly in five different directions. He looked like a proper model, even in just a simple black sweater and black pants.

Universe, you sly mother.

I recovered from my embarrassing staring. "Yeah, I'm okay. Just a bit stiff." I found myself praying to hell I didn't smell like a dog.

He smiled, revealing dimples as deep as his voice. "Okay." He politely nodded and went back to reading the book on his lap.

The seatbelt sign went on, and I buckled myself, feeling the familiar twinge of apprehension starting to bubble in my gut. I've ridden planes before, and it was ridiculous to be scared of takeoffs and landings. But who said fear was a rational thing?

I tried to grip the thick armrests as casually as I could.

"First flight?" I turned to see him staring at my white knuckles, knowing my face was just as pale. Damn it.

I smiled ruefully, drowning out the announcements over the speakers. My ears were pounding. "You'd think, huh. I've flown before. I just really don't like the first part."

He had removed his glasses. Even in my stupor, I couldn't help but appreciate how... pretty this guy was. "I'm Nam—sorry. I'm RM." He extended his hand, checking if I would ease my death grip on my chair.

I willed myself to let go and all but grabbed his fingers. Cool. That's just humiliating. "Hi. I'm panicking and I'm sorry if I make your flight difficult."

If my hapless clutching hurt him, he didn't give any indication. He chuckled softly. "You'll be fine. You know what—" he shifted his fingers, intertwining them with mine. I looked at them, then at him, surprise overtaking my anxiety. "—here. It'll be less painful like this. You've been to Seoul before?"

He was talking so casually, as if our hands weren't intimately linked between our seats. I shifted in my seat, forcing out a nonchalance I definitely did not feel. "Er, yeah. I've never been. My dad's Korean but we never had the chance to visit."

RM nodded, buckling his seat belt with his free hand, and smiling at the faintly surprised stewardess who walked past them. "You're going sightseeing and stuff?"

I briefly wondered about his accent. He's Asian, but he had a twang she couldn't place. He spoke well. "I'm just winging it when I get there. I'll definitely have a look around." I relaxed my grip and felt his thumb reflexively move softly against my forefinger in encouragement.

"That's better," he murmured.

"What is?"

His chin jutted at my direction. "Your face. It's got some color in it now. For a second I thought you were going to pass out on me."

I knew my cheeks and ears were a screaming firetruck red. I wish they allowed sharp objects in the plane. I really needed to stab myself at that moment.

"Sorry. I'm so embarrassed. I've been bothering you." I stuttered, trying pull away him hand.

He chuckled again and pulled back, securely tucking my arm under his. "Don't be. You're cute." He flashed me a shy grin. Why this flirt.

I could feel myself getting giddy. Interacting with a stranger like this was probably the number one no-no for traveling alone, or life in general, really. But I was an adult woman, dammit, and it felt good to be on the receiving end of this guy's attention. A little bit of this wouldn't hurt.

I faced forward, looking at but not really seeing the stewardess who was doing her routine demo at the front of the cabin. My whole being was focused on the warm hand connected to mine, with that thumb rubbing soothing circles on my skin.

I was not soothed. Far from it. I could feel his eyes on me. My whole face must have looked like a giant beet.

The plane lurched forward, and my heart leaped to my throat.

The grip tightened on my hand. "You like music?" he asked, unperturbed.

I swallowed. My mouth was so dry. "Yeah I do."

"What do you listen to?"

I focused on his voice, desperate to ignore the movement under me. "I don't really have a specific preference. If I like it I listen to it." He was still circling my skin with his thumb. "I heard kpop is a huge thing in Korea."

The thumb stopped moving. "You ever tried listening to kpop?"

I shook my head. "Not yet, but it's part of the plan once I get there. You got any recommendations?"

I turned to face him and saw hesitation and amusement mixed in his eyes. "I've got a few." He laughed softly to himself, shaking his head. "Aish," he muttered under his breath.

I frowned, confused. What's this guy on? What was I on?

The sound of a bell startled me. The seat belt sign is off.

I didn't even feel the takeoff.

RM lifted my hand to his lips. "Good girl," he hummed against my fingers.

My eyes widened.

He set my hand down, reaching inside his pocket to fish out his phone. "That wasn't so bad, wasn't it?"

I died a thousand deaths. Of course he was just trying to make me feel better about the takeoff. I wanted to stuff myself inside the luxurious backrest. "Um yeah. Sure. Thanks," I replied, desperately trying to sound as if his actions didn't affect me one bit.

He chuckled again. He chuckled a lot. He leaned towards me and peered at my embarrassingly flustered face. "You think I do that to everyone I seat beside to?"

My head snapped up, confused. "You don't?" I couldn't help but mumble. I just wanted to go back and switch seats with Ace.

"I don't," he confirmed, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. Well what do you know, I wasn't the only one embarrassed. He presented his IPhone to me, and I frowned at it, not knowing what to do.

His dimples were really something else. "You're phone number. Or email. Whichever you wanna use." His smile had a knowing look. "I'll be sure to give you the best music recommendations. I promise."