A/N: So, this little nugget of smutty goodness came to me as I was flipping through the channels tonight and happened upon a commercial for the new TV drama "Pan Am," which takes place in the 1960's and follows the glamorous lives of what were then called stewardesses. My sick and twisted brain suddenly birthed this naughtiness. Tell me if I'm wrong, but I haven't seen any airplane Klaine smut on here, but I don't know. I just found this idea totally sexy. And I totally had a sexy male flight attendant once when I was flying from London to Rome on Alitalia. Dark curly hair, chiseled jaw, green eyes, sexy accent...Mmm, yeah that flight was far too short for my liking. But anyway! (Lol!)

I hope you enjoy and please review because those make me feel like I'm living a teenage dream. In my skintight jeans.

Lastly, next chapter of "You'd Tear This Canvas Skin Apart" ("Canvas" for short), should be up this weekend, the latest the beginning of next week. So yay! I love you all, you naughty little minxes. ;)

Blaine Anderson sighed as he settled himself into his Business Class cubicle, mentally preparing for the long and torturous flight to Sydney. While he adored the city, he loathed the flight, particularly when he was forced to uphold the image of classy businessman and don a stylish but not necessarily comfortable Zegna suit for the nearly two-day voyage. Loosening his tie some, he sunk down into the cool leather seat a bit more, anxious for take-off so they could reach elevation and he'd be allowed to recline the seat into a bed and sleep into oblivion. He absent-mindedly watched his fellow travelers board and found that each slam of the overhead bins was making his skin crawl. Planes always made him a bit testy.

Blaine was the youngest partner at the firm, a fact that would be a bit more considerable if his father had not bequeathed the company to him upon turning 25 last month. Forbes' Magazine had voted him the "One to Watch" on their list of The Most Successful Twenty-Somethings, and it was no secret that his family was one of the richest in the country. When asked what exactly it was that the Andersons' company was responsible for, Blaine always answered that it would be simpler to list off the things that it did not have a hand in. Advertising, sales, law practices, publication… They had offices all over the world, and as the newest member of the executive team, Blaine was required to acquaint himself with each of them, not to mention being expected to make and uphold appearances with their employees and rub elbows with the business elite.

Closing his eyes and leaning against the headrest, Blaine let out a breath, waiting to feel the strangely soothing rumble of the plane's engine as it glided along the Tarmac to the runway. He was thinking about how much he hoped he'd have time to catch a show at the Sydney Opera House during his visit when he was interrupted but a soft but firm "Ahem."

"Excuse me, sir, would you like something to drink?" Blaine looked up and felt his eyes go wide as he found the source of the interruption. The young flight attendant was standing over him holding out a tray of various beverages on one hand, a friendly smile glued to his face. Blaine could not answer coherently as his eyes fought to make sense of the vision before him. He could not have been much older than Blaine, though his face showed less stress lines than his own, giving the man an almost angelic complexion. The juxtaposition of the smoothness of his skin against the ivory color of it made Blaine think of opals, and his eyes… His eyes were of a crystalline blue-green, completely lucid, that glinted down at Blaine happily and he felt his breath hitch. Good lord, this man was stunning.

"Umm, sir?" The flight attendant asked again, his brow scrunching a bit in confusion though he continued to smile at Blaine.

"What? I mean, yes?" Blaine shook his head, clearing his thoughts enough to create some semblance of a coherent response.

"Would you like something to drink?" The attendant repeated, holding the tray out to Blaine. He tore his eyes from the man and glanced at the tray before grabbing a glass of champagne.

"Uh, thank you," Blaine said, allowing himself another glimpse at the attendant. He was absolutely transfixed.

"Of course, sir. My name is Kurt. Let me know if you need anything else," he replied, grinning. He continued to the other passengers, offering them drinks, and Blaine could not help but watch him maneuver gracefully between the seats and feel a pang of jealousy as some struck up small talk with him, making Kurt chuckle. He almost forgot the icy glass of champagne he was holding until drops of condensation began dripping down the flute to his hand and he took a sip, his eyes still watching Kurt as he tipped back the bubbles.

Once Kurt finished the rounds, he disappeared behind a curtain, the captain's voice suddenly echoing in the plane, calling for the attendants to close the doors and prepare for take-off. Blaine fastened his seatbelt and gazed intently at the closed curtain, willing Kurt to come back out. What the hell was going on? Blaine was absolutely fixated on him, the tiny sensible voice in his brain telling him to calm the fuck down and stop being creepy. Gulping down the rest of the champagne, he set the glass down and sighed, forcing his eyes away from the curtain and looking out the small window, watching as the plane slowly taxied to the runway. Bracing his hands on the armrests, he reveled in the few rumbling minutes as the plane built up speed before lifting in the air, higher and higher before straightening out for the illegally long flight.

It was another twenty minutes before the curtain pulled back and Kurt walked out, gathering the empty glasses and replacing them with full ones. Suddenly nervous that he would be caught staring, Blaine grabbed his copy of the current Wall Street Journal and lifted it to block his gradually reddening face, cursing himself for acting like an idiot. He hadn't felt this, well, aroused by someone since sophomore year, when he proceeded to have quite the fiery affair with one of his fraternity's pledges. There was something about Kurt that made Blaine want to touch and kiss him, just so he could watch Kurt's eyes fill and turn dark with lust at each caress. He didn't even know if Kurt was gay, though, and he hated that he had to resort to the stereotype, he suspected he was by the way he had accessorized his uniform with a designer scarf, tied smartly into a type of ascot knot, with the ends tucked into his sweater.

Feeling a presence standing above him, Blaine lowered the newspaper slightly, his eyes immediately falling upon the shimmering blue orbs that were lit up with a friendly smile.

"How's it going, sir? Do you need anything?" Kurt said, and Blaine's eyes shifted to watching his mouth move, his legs parting slightly of their own accord as he noted how full and inviting they looked. He groaned very softly as he felt himself getting half-hard in his trousers and he shifted his hips toward the window, hoping Kurt hadn't noticed.

"A-another champagne, please," Blaine murmured. Kurt nodded and made to turn back down the aisle when Blaine let out a cough, following that with a more-than-little desperate choking sound.

"Is there something else?"

"Blaine. M-my name is Blaine," he said quickly, his face burning with embarrassment. He was rapidly becoming an incoherent mess as Kurt continue to smile, though he was too focused on his blushing to notice the mischievous glint that flashed in Kurt's eyes.

"Well, Blaine, again, if you need anything, anything at all, please do not hesitate to ask," Kurt replied with a slight smirk, before turning to retrieve his drink, his hips swaying a bit more conspicuously than before. Blaine's eyes went wide as he watched him, his groan a little louder as he felt his cock at full attention in his pants. Fuck, this is going to be a really long flight if you don't take care of this, Anderson, he thought desperately, and, unbelieving of what he was about to do, he unlatched his seatbelt and hurried down the aisle, hand trying to hide the tent in his pants, to the restroom just beyond the curtain, behind which he knew was Kurt. Looking quickly to make sure Kurt wasn't there, he locked himself in the impossibly small lavatory, sitting against the tiny counter. He unlatched his belt and pulled his zipper down, sighing in relief as he palmed himself through his boxer-briefs. Pushing them down just over his hips, he wrapped his hand around his hard cock, letting out a gasp as he began to pump himself, desperate for release. He closed his eyes and pictured the attendant, his designer scarf tied tightly around his wrists and on his knees, his pink lips kissing along the length of his cock before enveloping him in the wet, hot cavern of his mouth. Blaine could not suppress his moan as he licked his hand and began to pump himself faster. He was so close, so close. "Kurt…"

Knock, knock, knock.

"Hello? Blaine? Are you alright in there?" Kurt called from behind the door, and Blaine stopped, his hand frozen in shock around his cock.

"I…uh, I'm-," Blaine stuttered, mortified. Not only was what he was doing considered illegal, but he knew that if Kurt found out what he was doing, he'd think he was a disgusting pervert. But oh, God, he was so damn close. Taking less than a second to make his decision, he moved so he was pressed against the wall opposite the door, giving himself a fraction more room, and unlatched it, pushing it a bit so that it bent outwards and opened slightly. Seeing Kurt's fingers curl around the edge of the door, his face burned hot with fear, arousal, and anticipation as he opened it all the way, his eyes immediately falling on Blaine's hard, leaking cock. Blaine winced, inwardly awaiting the verbal tirade that he was sure awaited him before Kurt would contact the Sydney Airport's police, telling them about the pervert he found masturbating in the plane's bathroom, and insisting that he be arrested upon arrival. But instead, Kurt's shocked face was suddenly replaced with a look of pure, wanton lust, and he pushed himself into what little space remained of the cubicle, sliding the door closed and latching it. He surged forward and crashed his mouth over Blaine's, who took a second to register what exactly was happening. He had Kurt's sexy lips on his, that's what was happening. Satisfied that he wasn't still lost in his erotic fantasy, he kissed him back, his mouth moving with Kurt's. He groaned as Kurt's tongue slipped over his, curling to lick behind his top teeth. Blaine cupped a hand at the back of Kurt's head, pulling him closer, when Kurt lifted his lips and made to kiss along Blaine's jaw, down to his jugular, and up the side of his neck, before taking his earlobe between his teeth. Blaine shivered as he felt Kurt's hand slip down his body over his shirt and nearly screamed when he wrapped his hand around his cock.

"Is this because of me?" Kurt whispered naughtily into his ear, his lips still wrapped around the sensitive flesh.

Blaine shuddered before nodding once and letting out a groan.

"I saw how you looked at me, Blaine," Kurt continued, his lips now trailing down to his neck and biting down, his thumb flicking over the slit of his cock. "Do you think I'm sexy, Blaine?"

"Yes…Oh my God, yes," Blaine groaned, his head falling back against the wall.

Kurt moaned appreciatively, picking up the speed and tightening the grip of his hand, twisting up from the base of Blaine's cock.

"I think you're sexy, too," he murmured. "I was thinking of doing this to you since you sat down."

Blaine bit his lip in an effort to keep from calling out, sweat beginning to drip down his neck and into his collar. Kurt continued to tug at Blaine's rock-hard cock, his other hand reaching down to grip his balls tightly holding off his orgasm a bit more. Blaine arched his back, desperate for more, more friction, more anything.

"Please," he panted, "please, I want to come. I'm so close."

Capturing Blaine's lips in another searing kiss, Kurt reached behind him to grab a tissue and pumped Blaine's cock one, two, three more times before Blaine groaned loudly and came hard into the tissue. His body quivered with pleasure as he rode out his orgasm, his balls emptying themselves into Kurt's hand.

Letting out a breath, he opened his eyes and stared in shock at Kurt before letting a sleepy, contented smile play across his face.

"Thank you," he gasped, as Kurt cleaned him up and tucked him back into his trousers. Kurt grinned back wickedly.

"We're always here to serve," Kurt whispered seductively before unlatching the door and slipping out, returning to his flight attendant duties, leaving Blaine breathless and slightly hard once more.