This is great writing.

Slick, sharp, and completely committed to its atmosphere. The airport setting, “the anonymous lawlessness of international stop points,” the “private nursing suite,” the ticking clock before Berlin, all of it gives the encounter a very specific charge. It isn’t just sex, it’s transit, ritual, hunger, and goodbye folded into one short violent window.

And the closing line is strong because it reframes everything without softening it: “We are most ourselves when we are between places, belonging to no one but the moment.” That gives the whole piece a cool ache underneath the heat. Stylish, intense, and very sure of its own world.