He didn’t even look like he cared that Micah had been slobbering on him, his expression uncharacteristically soft as he took Micah in – which, was silly. Because Micah knew how he looked like in the mornings. His hair was probably sticking up at all ends, there was sleep crusted in his eyes, and undoubtedly, there were crease marks from the collar of Damon’s shirt pressed into his cheek.

“I said the sun is rising,” Damon repeated himself.

Micah blinked, unsure why that called for waking him. “It tends to do that?”

Damon raised an amused eyebrow. “I thought you’d might like to see it? It’s a novel experience watching it from within the sky.”

Now that made sense. “Oh, yeah, definitely.”

Micah allowed Damon to lead him to a window, and let Micah just say, the man completely undersold the experience. Witnessing the stunning pinks and yellows blossom across the sky from within the clouds itself wasn’t just novel – it was breathtaking.

“Wow.” It was the only word Micah could manage.

“Yeah, wow.”

Micah turned to face Damon, but he froze when he saw the man was looking at him, instead of the sunrise… like somehow he found Micah even more mesmerizing than the view out the window.

Micah’s entire body flushed, his heart somehow in his throat and yet galloping against his ribs at the same time.

Say something, you idiot!

“I-”

“Mr. Romano, sir, are you or your guest hungry?”

Micah jolted when they were suddenly interrupted by the lone flight attendant on the private jet. (It wasn’t like they needed more than one with just the two of them and the pilot.) He wasn’t sure if he was annoyed or relieved by the disruption, but he offered the young, pimply kid – he looked like he was fresh out of high school – a smile, anyway. The small nameplate pinned to his chest declared that his name was “Paul”.

“I’m good, Paul,” Micah said. Thanks, anyway.”

When Micah turned back to Damon, it was to discover a scowl had taken over his face. Whether it was due to the interruption, or he was simply frowning at Micah’s answer to Paul’s question, Micah didn’t know. “We’ll have something light for breakfast,” he informed Paul after a moment. “Please bring a cheeseboard out to the couch.

“Of course, sir, right away, sir.”

A minute later, they were sitting back on the couch, and Paul was setting an intricate platter of food in front of them that could in no way be considered a mere “cheeseboard”. The tray was covered in a variety of not only delicately cut cheeses and meats, but also an assortment of crackers, clumps of green and purple grapes, a split-open pomegranate, and to the side of everything… sushi.

Shit.

Micah felt Damon stiffen beside him. “What is this?”