Transatlantic Nylon

The woman sitting next to him seemed to have fallen asleep, though her magazine was still open in her lap and her headphones were still on her head. She had given him a pointed look, her eyes glaring up at him from under her short eyelashes and plucked eyebrows, the moment he’d taken out his laptop, when the seat belt sign finally turned off. This was business class, he thought, what did she expect? But he’d remained silent.

Soon the woman was simply ignoring him and Guy’s attention was on his laptop. He didn't do any work-work while flying, unless it was an emergency, because experience had shown him that he just didn't do his best work while on a plane. On his laptop wasn't work, it was another favour to Seb. He was proofreading Seb’s latest article, because Seb was terrified of submitting anything to an editor that might have a spelling mistake in it. As his eyes read over it he found himself enjoying the quality of the writing. Seb could certainly write, not just the quality of his prose but the article also held his attention. If he told Seb this he’d only reply with a blush of embarrassment, so lacking in arrogance was he.

The previous month had been a nightmare of work. He’d spent his time scouring through the accounts of a New Jersey frozen foods delivery firm. The firm had recently been taken over by a large corporation and Guy’s employers had brought him in to check over the accounts. As a forensic accountant that was his job, but this company seemed to be a mine of money scams.

He worked for an international finance company, dividing his time between London and New York. The company had offices in other countries, but he mostly worked out of those two cities, for which Guy was grateful. He’d spend a month or so in one city and then fly across the Atlantic to spend a month or so working out of the other office.

Mostly his work consisted of looking for fraud. A company or corporation would call in his employers if they suspected someone was defrauding them. Guy would then be sent in to comb through the firm’s accounts and paperwork. Most times the fraud was easy to find, people rarely thought up elaborate crimes, but occasionally Guy had to search harder. Other times he’d be called in because one company had taken over another, as with the New Jersey frozen food firm, and wanted to clear out any corruption; but these jobs came along less frequently.

The stewardess, in a slow and purposeful walk, moved along the aisle and passed his seat, checking on the passengers as she did. She was young, but weren't they always? She looked to be in her early twenties with her blonde hair pulled back in a tight bun on top her head. As she walked away from him Guy found himself wondering what her life was like. Her accent was English, did she live in London? Did she have a lover?

With a slight shake of his head he returned his attention to his laptop. He found himself doing this a lot when he flew, wondering about the lives of the cabin crew. Despite flying regularly he rarely seemed to see the same cabin crew twice.

When he first started his job, he’d felt isolated and lonely. His employer rented him an apartment in New York, though smaller than his own flat in London, which was comfortable and he'd been in easy reach of the rest of the city. But he soon found himself falling out of sync with his whole social life. Being away for a month at a time he soon lost touch with his London friends and he wasn't in New York long enough to form any lasting relationships.

He was seriously considering leaving his job when he met Honey. He enjoyed the work, but the loneliness was growing too great to bear. Then, at a gallery opening, he casually met Honey. It wasn't an Earth-stopping moment, not love at first sight, he just found himself talking to a tall woman with a mane of blonde hair. She was bright and informed; talking with her was refreshing and interesting, certainly more than the lacklustre paintings all around them. When she had suggested they go get something to eat, he’d happily agreed.

On their second date he told her about his job and how he had to divide his time. Honey had been unconcerned about this. She was an actress and would often be away from New York days or even weeks at a time filming. His lifestyle seemed to offer no problems to her; she actually seemed interested in how he lived in two such different cities.

It was when he returned to London, only three weeks after meeting Honey, that he met Seb. His old university friend David had invited him to a party; Guy had almost not gone to it, he hardly knew anyone there, but at the last moment he agreed. There he'd met Seb, or more accurately Seb met him. Guy had been sitting on a sofa, nursing his drink, when Seb dropped down next to him.

All arms and legs and spiky black hair, full of the energy of a twenty-five-year-old, Seb had been the one who'd made all the first moves at that party. He’d seen Guy, been attracted to him and approached him. Guy had been flattered, Seb was certainly attractive and good company, and having Seb chasing him gave Guy a boost to his ego. When Seb suggested Guy took him home, at the end of the party, Guy had happily agreed.

Seb seemed to rapidly fall into his life after that first night together. He was a writer, though his main source of income came from working as a receptionist, and he was passionate about so many things in his life. Quickly, Guy found himself being one of those things. Seb lavished both affection and attention on him and Guy enjoyed receiving them; but just as much Seb needed them in return. Guy found himself in the position of not being just Seb’s lover but also his mentor and, to his surprise, enjoyed both roles.

When he finally told Seb about his divided lifestyle, only a week before he was due to leave for New York, Seb simply shrugged and said it would give him a chance to write. Guy wasn't sure that Seb really meant it, but when he returned to London, five weeks later, Seb was just as affectionate and attentive as if he hadn't been gone (though he’d received almost daily e-mails from Seb).

With that bright pinging sound, the “Fasten seat belt” sign lit up above his head. Guy looked up at it, disorientated because it was still hours before they were due to land; then one of the stewardess’ voices came over the PA system:

"The captain has asked that you fasten your seat belts because we’re approaching a patch of turbulence."

With a nod of relief to himself, Guy reached under himself for the ends of his seat belt. Once he had it secured he turned to the woman sitting in the next seat. She was still sleeping and for a moment he considered just letting her sleep, let the stewardess wake her, but just as quickly changed his mind. He reached over and shook her arm; a moment later she woke up with a shudder.

"What's the matter?" she asked, her voice flat and blunt.

"We need to put our seat belt on," he replied.

"We’re landing?"

"No, were flying into some turbulence."

"They always say that, it's never that bad. They only want us kept in our seats so they can piss off for an unofficial break!" She snapped more to the world in general than to him, but she still buckled up her seat belt.

Barely thirty seconds later, the entire cabin was vibrating violently around them as the plane was battered by the winds outside. Guy pushed himself back into his seat and his hands gripped the seat rests. He'd never got used to flying through turbulence. He'd hated rollercoasters is as a child, but this was worse. The plane would shake and rattle as if it was going to fall apart, no one would say how long it would last, and then it all would suddenly end. It was the worst type of tension, you never knew where it was going or when it would end, and Guy hated it.

He'd met Honey and then Seb a little over two years ago. Meeting them had been the anchor he needed, not just in New York but also in London. Now both of them lived with him, Honey sharing his New York apartment while Seb lived in his London flat. Seb had happily and quickly agreed to move in with him, he had been both excited and reassured that Guy wanted to live with him. Honey had taken more persuading. She’d been in previous relationships where she'd rushed into living with her lover and they had ended badly. She eventually agreed, six months into their relationship, when her landlord hiked up the cost of her rent.

His relationships with Honey and Seb were not the same though. With Honey their relationship was far more companionship and friendship, not that of great lovers. Together they would go to the theatre or galleries, dine together at their favourite restaurants, or else they would simply stay home watching television; but always they would talk and talk. They could talk on any subject, with Honey he'd met someone who he found endlessly interesting and whose company he genuinely liked. When she was away filming, he missed her; there was no one else there to share his downtime with.

With Seb there was real passion, Seb wanted and needed him. Guy had never felt that before, to be needed by another person, yet it was also strangely attractive and fulfilling. Seb looked up to him, sought out his advice, and it was Guy who Seb presented each new piece of his writing to. Every time he flew back to London Seb would be waiting for him at the airport, and he was always glad to see Seb’s smiling face. In his turn Guy felt very protective of Seb, cared so deeply that Seb was not only happy but also safe.

Often, in the early hours of the morning, he'd wake up next to a sleeping Seb. Carefully, so as not to wake his sleeping lover, he’d slip his arm around him and draw their bodies together. Then he'd contentedly fall back asleep.

The plane lurched forward, as if it actually was on the edge of falling out of the sky; though momentary, it was enough for Guy's entire body to tense with fear. His mind told him it was only the turbulence and they were still safe, but his emotions screamed with fear.

"Jesus Christ," the woman next to him hissed.

He glanced over at her, but, even though her hands gripped the magazine in her lap, her head was forward and her face was hidden by the curtain of her dark hair.

He had told Honey about Seb only a few months into their relationship. They had been lying in bed together, post love making, when he’d told her about him. He didn't want to drive her away, but he did want her to know he wasn't looking for a wife. In her turn, Honey gently laughed and said, "I thought there was something different about you. You don't make love like some selfish straight prick."

She’d then kissed him passionately.

With Seb, though, he’d made no mention of the real nature of his relationship with Honey. He’d told him that Honey rented a room in his apartment as his lodger and no more. He’d held back in fear of hurting and then losing Seb. It was that decision that had opened his eyes to how deeply he felt about him.

Previously his relationships with other men had been short-lived and casual. He had envisioned his future as married to a woman with the occasional male lover on the side, but his life was turning out to be the opposite. It was Seb he wanted to marry – well, eventually – whereas Honey was more and more filling the role of his mistress. If his relationship with her ended tomorrow, he'd be upset but not heartbroken, he couldn't say that about Seb. He couldn't imagine life without him, nor did he want to. It was Seb he wanted to settle down with, and that was what he was planning on doing.

The stewardess’ voice on the cabin's PA system snapped him out of his thoughts.

"The captain says we are now past the patch of turbulence so we have turned off the seat belt signs, though I ask you to remain in your seats. Thank you."

"That wasn't real turbulence, it's like that always," the woman next to him said, though more in reply to the announcement than to him. Guy considered pointing out that she'd been just as afraid during the worst moments of it but just as quickly decided against it. With this woman that would probably lead to an argument, and he’d had enough of arguments recently.

During his last stay in London, five weeks ago, he had told his brother Alan about both Honey and Seb. He’d finally grown tired of Alan constantly asking him when he was going to get married. Since his own marriage, ten years ago now, Alan thought everyone should be married and raising children. He saw no other life as having any value. Guy had told him about his relationships to shut him up, he’d hoped Alan would finally change the subject now he knew Guy’s position, but it had the opposite effect.

Alan had exploded into anger, calling Guy a pervert and predator, screaming that he was diseased. Guy hadn't bothered to argue back, there was no point; instead he’d just turned around and walked away. Unfortunately that hadn’t silenced Alan. For the previous five weeks Alan had been e-mailing him, just repeating his original rants.

When Honey saw one of Alan's e-mails she said, "Your brother’s a prick."

"Yes," Guy replied, "but he’s easily ignored."

He meant it too. His relationships with Seb and Honey were far more important to him than his constantly complaining brother, with all Alan’s prejudices.

Guy glanced down at his watch. Two hours before his flight landed, two hours and then he'd be greeted by Seb’s smiling face. He smiled to himself – it was such a warm and comforting image – and settled back into his seat.