Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

His friends were acting weird.

In hindsight, it’d started the day before yesterday but he’d been too off himself to really notice. The week had been hard. The internet critiques were getting worse, he was bordering on exhausted bouncing from one place to another constantly, and he missed the family and friends that weren’t traveling with him. He also, perhaps most importantly, really fucking missed Olandria. So much it was starting to make him tweak a little bit.

Which was slightly ridiculous because it hadn’t been that long since the last time he’d seen her (even if it was way too brief for his liking) and he spoke to her everyday. He was also a day or two away from seeing her again, seeing her in his home state at that, surrounded by the other people he loved. With all things considered, regarding O, he should be fine. Logically, theoretically.

However, he was, indeed, not fine. He was a little cranky, a little more prone to snap, both online and offline, and his energy was sinking to a level that felt too far down to bring back up.

So yeah, he’d been a little too slow on the uptake to notice how odd his friends were being. It’d finally started to click last night though, once he noticed how much Quan and Max kept looking at him like they were anticipating something. Or planning something. They’d stare at him every few minutes, get a funny look in their eye, then go back to looking at their phones, thumbs moving fast like they were trying to break a record in speed typing.

And when Nic thinks about it Quan had also been taking more phone calls than usual the past few days, leaving a room if Nic was in it to go speak elsewhere. Which, like, fucking rude but whatever. Xavier and Alex were more giggly than usual, even with his snark, and suddenly very concerned with making sure their cameras were in perfect condition for the upcoming DMV show. They claimed it was for all the “Nicolandria Avengers”.

That all could have maybe been explained away had it not been for what just occurred five seconds ago.

The Ethans had come into the kitchen where the rest of the crew was slowly waking up, everyone having just rolled out of bed with the sunrise. They’d asked what the plan for the day was.

Nic looked at Quan— he knew what the day would be but he trusted Quan to relay it better than him. Nic was still blinking crust out of his eyes, most of his attention focused on willing his phone to ping with Olandria’s daily good morning text.

Quan was trying to figure out how to turn the coffee maker on when he answered with, “We’ll head to the hotel in a couple hours. Drop everything off, get settled, get ready, then pick up a bite to eat before heading to the venue around 6 probably. Nic’s got the meet & greets at 7, his appearance for the set isn’t until about an hour or so after that finishes up, depending on how long it takes.”

Ethan nodded along happily. “Yeah but when is Olandria-”

Nic doesn’t think he’s ever seen Quan move that fast and he quite literally just raced him in the street the other day. The man completely abandons his war with the coffee maker, spinning around and yeeting himself across the kitchen to Ethan, slapping his hands over the boy’s mouth so hard there’s a muffled yelp from the victim through Quan’s cupped palms. And as if that isn’t already bizarre as shit, Max isn’t far behind, jumping onto Ethan’s back like a damn spider monkey and joining Quan in covering Ethan’s mouth. Xavier and Alex both freeze, looking wide eyed and panicked, like they’re scared to breathe too hard and cause the room to blow.

What the actual hell is going on?

“Yeah, okay, what the fuck is happening right now?” There’s pure confusion in Nic’s voice, his brows scrunching up.

The boys are all still as stone, Ethan now looking deeply alarmed as he and Quan have some type of silent communication via intense eye contact. Max is still hanging from Ethan’s frame like an oversized backpack, legs dangling around his waist. It’s such a wild scene to look at that it takes Nic a minute to comprehend what came out of Ethan’s mouth before all hell broke loose.

“Did you say Olandria? What about her?”

“He did not say Olandria.” Quan says. Deathly calm.

“Uh, yes he did.”

“No he didn’t.”

“Yes he did.”

“No he didn’t.”

“Quan, yes he did.”

“Nah, I don’t think so.”

“Dude, yes he did!”

Max releases his hands, one moving to simply hang around Ethan’s neck, the other he uses to scratch his chin, like he’s really trying to solve a mystery. “Maybe you misheard him?”

“When have I ever misheard someone saying Olandria’s name?” Do they think he’s some type of ammature? That name might as well be a fucking bat signal for him, he’s tunned in immediately the second he hears it.

“Maybe you just wanted him to say it? So you think you heard it?”

“Max, what the hell?”

“I mean it kinda makes sense, you miss her right? So, like, maybe you miss her so much you’re starting to like— lose your mind and you’re hearing things, you know? It’s possible, I saw this movie one time and the guy was definitely losing it, and the first sign was him hearing things. Granted, he was being haunted by a poltergeist or some shit, so maybe not exactly like that but-”

“Did you just compare my girlfriend to a poltergeist?”

Max actually gasps and clutches his chest like he’s gripping pearls. “I would never!”

“Than what the actual fuck are you talking about?”

“I don’t know!” Max whines, pouting and affronted. Still on top of Ethan.

Maybe Nic needs new friends. Because this cannot be normal.

Quan finally moves away from the piggy backed duo. He turns to Nic, Nic raises his eyebrow. Quan opens his mouth, pauses, then “Nope.”

And he walks back to the coffee machine like that’s the answer to everything.

“Quan.”

“Nope.”

“Quan.”

“Nuh-uh, nope, not before coffee.”

“Quan! I swear to -,”

“He was asking about Olandria!” Alex suddenly screeches.

Every head turns to him. Quan looks ready to chuck the machine at him, Etha-Max almost look ready to charge him, other Ethan just stands with an agape mouth, and Xavier is slowly trying to back away from Alex like he’s a ticking time bomb. Nic just stares.

“Yeah, I gathered that. Asking what about Olandria?”

“Uh,” Alex stumbles. “He was… He was asking about… He was…” Alex continues to blubber before swinging his eyes back to Quan, pleading.

Quan sighs and throws his head back like he’s the mother of five children. Finally, “He was trying to ask if you’d heard from her today.”

“Yeah!” “Yeah, that!” “Exactly!” Immediately every boy agrees with Quan’s statement, their voices crashing over each other in their exclamations.

“You… were trying to ask if I’d heard from her?”

In theory it’s a fair question. Him and Olandria talk everyday, and if possible they facetime in the morning so they can see each other before their days officially start. His friends really like her, even though they’ve only met through the phone, so it’s not unusual for them to check in and make sure he’s good concerning O, specifically his phone time with her (partly because he turns moody if he doesn’t have it but that’s nobody’s business thank you very much). They even like to get in their own time to talk to her on the calls. So it’s not a completely odd question. But the entire spectacle that just took place is. Along with them trying to avoid his questioning before seemingly giving in. Which is why he continues to stare at them with that raised eyebrow and squinted eyes.

“Yes.” They all chorus, a couple throwing in eager head nods.

“You did all of that,” He gestures wildly with both hands. “Just because you were trying to ask if I’d heard from O?”

They each make eye contact with each other. Max turns to him. “We didn’t want to bring up a sensitive subject?”

“What are you even talking about-”

“Well you have been cranky! We didn’t wanna set you off, we were being careful!”

“So you jump onto Ethan!? When has talking about O ever made me upset!?”

“He does have a point there-”

“Alex not helping!”

They’re all yelling now, so loud they almost don’t hear Nic’s phone go off on the counter. It’s the ringtone he has for Olandria, which means Nic drops the argument immediately and leaps to the counter to pick it up. The boys have been saved by the bell, and Nic still thinks they’re being fucking weird, but he couldn’t care less now. He slides his thumb across the screen to accept the Facetime call and brings the glass up to his face.

Olandria’s face fills the screen, pretty and perfect, smiling at him. “Hi Nicky.”

“Hi O.” He coos, the exasperation from before nowhere to be found in his voice. He forgets the boys are even there for a second until they all suddenly chime in from behind him.

“Hi Olandriaaaa!”

Nic rolls his eyes but grins when she giggles. “Hi yall!”

He pans the camera over to them so they can all wave, and he’s about to excuse himself to go upstairs to talk to her when Quan apparently decides he’s lost his fucking mind, snatching the phone from his fingers. Nic is considering the moral wrongness of possibly murdering one of your best friends.

“Hey! Give that back Quan!”

The man just speed walks away from him, Nic hot on his heels, chasing him around the air BNB.

“Ola, me and the boys were just asking Nic if he’d heard from you today. You know. The importance of communication in relationships and all that. Especially today. Today specifically is uh… good for talking. About things. Important things. New things. Have you mentioned any new things O?”

“Don’t call her O!”

He thinks he can hear Olandria laughing but he can’t be sure because Quan is still running away from him with Nic’s damn phone and girl in hand.

“Well, new things could definitely be mentioned if I could talk to Nic.”

Nic almost runs straight into Quan the way he stops so abruptly. “Awesome. Okay, have fun you two.” And then he tosses the device at Nic, whistling his way back to the coffee machine like he didn’t almost become Nic’s first felony.

“One second, darling.” He walks over and smacks each boy on the top of the head as payback for whatever the hell this morning was. Max gets two for grinning too hard at him. Quan gets two just for calling Olandria O.

By the time he makes it upstairs and shuts the door to his temporary room Olandria is laughing again. He beams at her. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, Nicky-Pooh.”

“I miss you.”

“I miss you more.”

“Actually not possible.”

“So possible.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Yuh-huh.”

“I will let you win every argument but this. I can’t be beat when it comes to yearning. Look at the material O. I founded a nation from it.”

She full out cackles at this and his heart fucking flutters. He turns into absolute ooey-gooey mush when it comes to her. He hates it. He loves it.

They talk for a bit, catching up and flirting in equal measure. He’s so focused on their time together that he almost forgets about the weird interaction with the guys, Quan specifically. “What was Quan saying to you? Other than my nickname.”

“Oh, yours huh?” She smirks. That mischievous head tilt he’s obsessed with begins to show and he has to count to ten to keep from embarrassing himself.

“Do not distract me!”

She laughs before her smile dims a little, getting more serious. “It’s actually about Florida. About me coming.”

“I’m so excited, you have no idea. It’s gonna be great. You’ll get to meet everyone, and the fans at the shows too, and we can be together for days.”

“Yeah but about that-”

“It’s gonna be really fucking hard to share you but I promise I’ll do my best. I’m going to need cuddles every night though. Like, a lot. Actually, if we could just never leave the bed anytime we’re at the hotel that’d be amazing. Fuck, that sounds so good.”

“Nicky-”

“And I’ll get to show you around Florida! It’s technically kinda southern so I think you’ll like it. I’ll make sure to take you to the best places. Maybe if we have time you can even come… come look at like… apartments with me? Or houses, I think I want a house, honestly. But I wouldn’t want to get something you didn’t like. Uh, you know, just cause like… I value your opinion and stuff. Not anything else. Unless you want it to be something else, you know, in the future, then absolutely, but no pressure or anything, I-”

“Nic!”

He finally takes a breath. Yeah okay he went on a tangent there. He’s just so excited to see her, have her in his stomping ground. He’s also been playing around with the idea of a home base in Florida. And anywhere he is he wants Olandria to be. Or for her to at least like it enough to want to visit him. Often. Some of his most frequent daydreams are them being together in one permanent place. No more separation. Just them and their future. Everything together.

Control it, Nic.

He blinks. “Sorry, sorry. I’m sorry. Got overexcited. And nervous. Didn’t mean to cut you off. What’s up, Ola?”

She bites her lip. Whatever it is, she’s struggling to get it out. He feels himself go on alert.

“O?”

“Maybe I don’t get there during Florida?” She says it like it’s a question.

His heart drops to his ass. “What?”

“Well, um.”

He tries to hear what she’s saying but it feels like he just got body slammed into a brick wall with a harsh awakening, like he’s become both the punch line and the punching bag to a very cruel joke. Okay, that’s dramatic.

No it’s not.

He was looking forward to this so fucking much. It’s been hard lately and, as great as things are going in his life, it only keeps getting harder. This new life is a lot. He loves the opportunities, the fans, the good they can do, the dreams they can achieve. But every blessing has come with its curse. Olandria has been the one thing that makes it all stop. She’s his water. His peace. He needs that right now.

And beyond the need for sanity, he just really really misses her. Her laugh, her smile, her touch, her jokes. Her accent, her kisses, the way she melts into him. Technically, he’s only just gotten her. He thinks it’s fair to want as much time with her as he can get. For a while, she was only a crush, a goddess of a person he thought he could never have, not in all the ways he wanted her. But now he does, and most times it’s hard to not attach himself to her hip and refuse to move. This was supposed to be a weekend he got to be surrounded in all things Olandria, to soak up time with her and his loved ones.

And now that’s gone.

He’s not mad at her. Nic’s not sure he’s capable of that emotion towards her. Knows she probably has a good reason, even if it just boils down to exhaustion. That would be understandable. But he’s still sad. Devastated, actually. He’s got to get a grip.

Underneath the despair, a wicked thought sneaks in— What if she doesn’t want to come?

What if she doesn’t want to spend time with him? Doesn’t want to see him, be with him? Had she changed her mind? Did she not want what he does anymore? What if the thought of meeting his friends and family in person made her realize she doesn’t want to be serious with him? What if she doesn’t see a future with him and is trying to get out before it goes farther?

So his heart actually can fall further into his ass while somehow still clogging up his throat at the same time. Wonderful.

He attempts to shake the thoughts away. Olandria is direct and communicative. She doesn’t hide her thoughts and feelings from him, not anymore, not since they stopped fighting their feelings for each other. It’s probably just a scheduling conflict or a tiredness she can’t shake. He understands. He just wishes it wasn’t happening.

“Nic? Baby, you listenin’?”

He snaps his attention to her. “I am, sorry. You, um, you- you’re not coming? To Florida?” He tries to hide how his voice wants to break. Get it together.

She tilts her head. “Well, not exactly.”

He nods. “I uh- I get it. It’s a lot to get over here. A lot of flying, especially with your schedule. Did something come up? Or a mis-schedule?” He pauses. “Or if you’re just tired, obviously that’s completely valid too. You’re everywhere, I know how much you need rest.”

Be supportive. Be supportive. Do not make her feel bad for this. You’ll be fine.

You’ll be fine.

If he repeats it enough maybe he’ll believe it.

Suddenly, she’s smiling. Positively beaming. He tries to smile back. He thinks he fails, which is saying something because he almost always smiles when she does— an ingrained response at this point. Her being happy makes him happy.

“Oh, you weren’t listening huh, Nicky-Baby?”

He shivers at the name. He likes that. It’s new. He hopes she says it again. It’s helping soften the blow.

“Nickyyyy.” She sings.

“Yeah?”

“What I’m saying is, I won’t meet you in Florida. I was thinking sooner. Tonight. I can come to the DMV show.”

He blinks. Blinks again. Feels his pulse start to pick up. Her grin is wider now. “You- I- What?”

She giggles. It rings through the speaker, beautiful and melodic. “I’m kinda in a car outside the airport right now. Your boys and I figured out flights, I should be at the hotel maybe an hour after you get there. And then I can travel with you too. I’ll be with you ‘till you leave Florida.”

“I think I’m going to faint.”

She cackles again. “Nic what?”

“I’m so serious, oh my god.” He yanks the phone up from where it’s been propped and starts sending smooches to the camera, wonders if she’d find it gross or charming if he straight out planted one on the screen. He just needs his affection, his gratitude, his joy to reach her. God, if she were here right now they’d have to surgically remove him from her mouth. Maybe use the jaws of life. “I’m obsessed with you. You’re amazing, beyond perfection. It defies reality how fucking unreal you are, oh my god O.”

Her smile gets softer. So soft, so sweet it makes his teeth ache. “We did good? You’re happy?”

“You did so good baby. Beyond good. I’m fucking ecstatic. When does your flight board? When do you land? I’ll get you from the airport.” He’s about to shove everyone in the car and drive them all to the Maryland airport so he can park his happy ass there and wait for her.

“Flight boards in an hour, I should land around 3. But nuh-uh, I’m under strict instruction, you are not to go to the airport. Quan’s taking care of it, he’s got a car ready to get me and take me to the hotel.”

“Okay, well, fuck Quan actually.”

She’s laughing again, loudly and without restraint. It’s making him wish he could launch through the phone right to her. “Nic! Don’t say that! He help set this whole thing up!”

“Okay, but does what he said really matter? I, personally, think not. Fuck a car, I can get you, let me get you.” He might self combust if he doesn’t see her the second she lands in the same state as him.

“Nope, I’m not gonna fuck up Q’s plan after how solid he’s been in pulling this off and keeping it a secret.”

Oh, so maybe that’s what was up with the boys being fucking weirdoes earlier. He feels bad for being so annoyed with them now. He owes them his first born or something after this. If O is cool with that.

Wait.

“Q? Q? You have a nickname for him!? Oh my god, is that why he called you O? Q and O! No! I do not like this! Why was I not a part of these nicknames!?”

“Did you miss the part where we were planning a secret surprise for you?”

“You saying that makes it really hard to be upset.”

“Good, I like you happy.”

“You make me happy.”

“Just wait until I’m there in person.”

“Counting down the minutes, believe me. I’m setting an alarm when we hang up to go off every hour.”

They talk a little about the details, how this came about, how her and the boys planned it. They knew he’d been down. She knew. They wanted to help. Give him something to show they loved him, appreciated him, wanted to see him shine and be his usual effervescent self. Fuck, he loved his people.

“You’ll come straight to the hotel when you land?”

“Boy, where else would I go?”

“Don’t tease me, I’m barely holding off from becoming an uber driver to break Quan’s rule.”

“I’d give you five stars.”

“You’d be my favorite customer.”

“Only customer.”

“Damn right.” He grins.

They don’t hang up until she has to go into the airport. And, despite the fact he’s going to see her in a few hours, his goodbye still takes five minutes because, as previously stated, he’s obsessed with her and talking to her is his favorite thing in the world.

When the call finally ends he takes some time to process. His girl is coming. Today, tonight. He gets her for almost an entire week. She’s gonna be with his people. She went the extra mile to be there for him when he needed her. Olandria fucking Carthen cares about him so much she’s changing her entire plan around him, around them. He doesn’t know if he’s ever been this buzzed before.

He stands up, stomps to the door, rips it open, and yells to the boys. “Everybody line up! You are all getting fat mouth kisses for what you’ve done. Quan, you first! You’re getting an extra wet one, you magnificent man!”

He’s already running down the stairs when he hears Quan scream. “Nicolas, I swear to God, you keep your skinny ass lips away from me!”

Yeah. He loves his people.

Chapter Text

“I’m not going.”

“Nic, come on.”

“No!”

“Vans.”

“No! And you can’t make me!”

“Well, technically-“

“I will bite.” Nic gnashes his teeth at them to show he means business. He’s serious. It’s a serious threat.

Quan has a grimace on his face as he shakes his head. “You are such a freak.”

“Thank you.”

“That was not a compliment.”

Nic ignores him and proceeds to flop back onto the bed the boys attempted to drag him off of. For the past twenty minutes they’ve been trying to convince him to leave, the plan being to grab food before the event but Nic isn’t biting (not yet at least). Olandria still hasn’t arrived and he’s not leaving this hotel until he’s seen her– until she’s smiled at him, and put her hands on his neck, and kissed him stupid (emphasis on the kiss him stupid). He’s spent the time since they got to their lodgings excitedly bouncing around or anxiously pacing, waiting by the phone for a message or call from her. Her plane should have landed a little less than half an hour ago but he hasn’t heard a word since before she boarded, a fact that’s making his skin itch.

But he refuses to go anywhere else, anywhere that will take him farther from where he’s supposed to meet Olandria, even if it’s for needed sustenance. He’d rather starve.

Is it dramatic if it’s true?

“Vans, it’s not like we're going to stay out and eat. We can pick up food and come right back buddy.”

Nic lazily turns his head to face Max. “And what if we’re still gone when she gets here, huh?”

“Then she checks in and gets settled while we head back? She’ll still be here once we’re done.”

Max might as well have just suggested running ass naked through the streets in broad daylight with the way Nic’s expression turns horrified and affronted all at once. “She can’t get to the hotel and nobody be here Max!”

“I really don’t think she’d mind?” The brunette has the decency to add a questioning lilt to his tone, like he’s unsure as he says it. Quan just shakes his head at him, knowing it’s not even worth the argument against the spastic giraffe they’re currently facing. 

“I’d mind, Max. She can’t get here and me be gone. How could you even suggest that?”

“So then, like, is it her that needs someone here or you cause-”

“Maybe our needs are the same, have you considered that?”

Quan chimes in with a “You truly are such a freak, oh my god.”, as if saying it twice changes anything, but neither Nic nor Max acknowledge him. 

“Alex is still checking the camera equipment, so he could stay back for Olandria if we need him to?"

“I will drop kick you right here, right now.”

Max’s jaw drops. “What did I do now!?”

“I am not leaving Alex as a greeting card for O!”

“You wanted someone to be here for her!”

“Meaning me, you dummy! You know, me, her boyfriend? Her partner? The whole reason she came?”

Quan opens his mouth to say something Nic just knows will irritate him so he beats him to it. “Do not start.”

“I didn’t even say anything yet!”

“I could sense your impure intentions.”

“Oh okay, fucking Yoda.”

“The sass is strong with this one, I sense.”

“Can we focus please?”

Nic has already made his mind up. “I’m not leaving. Yall go get food if you want. I will be here, where O expects me to be.”

“What if Olandria’s hungry when she lands?”

Oh they’re good. Nic almost has to give them credit for the question. It’s certainly the tactic that has the highest chance of getting him to cave and go. One of the easiest ways to get Nic to do anything is to imply Olandria needs or wants something. He’d be ashamed of it if he wasn’t so proud of it. He likes caring for people and Ola just happens to be his favorite person to care for. However, because of that, he’s already thought this through– so jokes on them. 

“I’m gonna ask her if she is when she texts me that she’s landed. If she is I'll have food delivered or get something from the hotel restaurant. Or, since you geniuses are gonna be out, I could just ask you to get something for her.” He’s probably gonna get her food whether she says she’s hungry or not honestly. Just in case. She should have it if she changes her mind. 

“You are annoyingly prepared when it comes to her. It’s almost unnerving.”

“I am the epitome of togetherness and planning, Quan.”

“You pulled out your passport and I.D. from an In-N-Out takeout bag to hand to TSA.”

“Well I knew exactly where they were, didn’t I? The bag kept them together. Besides, that was the old me.”

“That was yesterday.”

“Yesterday is not today, my friend. Old me.”

“You then got sad when they made you throw out the fries that were still in the bag. Despite the fact you had already eaten pizza for breakfast. You proceeded to have pizza for lunch too. And dinner.”

“It has pineapple. It’s nutritional.”

“You are literally the spokesperson for a fucking salad company.”

“And I eat the salad with my pizza! It’s called balance!” 

Max sighs wistfully. “Now I want pizza.”

“As you should, Maxy. Go achieve your dreams. Go forth. Prosper. Greasy cheese is in the near future, I sense.”

Nic thinks Quan finally has them leave just so he won’t have to hear him continue to wax Yoda about pizza. 

——

It’s about another twenty minutes later that there’s a knock on the door. He assumes it’s the boys, either attempting one last time to get him to come or just updating him on where they’re going. It’s why he’s completely unprepared for the sight that greets him when he opens the thick barrier. 

Pretty blonde tresses fall down slender shoulders, framing a heart shaped face. Eyes, big and brown, soulful, full of everything good, with skin an even darker shade, rich in color, glowing from the inside out. All paired with pouty lips, a button nose, and bone structure sharp enough to cut clean through ice. The most beautiful woman he’s ever seen in his lifetime.

Her smile is so big it takes up her entire face, cheekbones prominent and shining. “Hi Nicky.”

“O.” It comes out of him less as a word, a name, a letter, and more like a release of breath– something he can’t keep contained, lungs loosening, body relaxing, the sound full of reverence. 

He takes less than a second before he’s hauling her into the room, into his chest. The door slams shut behind them as his arms cage her in, wrapping around her tiny waist so he can lift her from the ground, erasing any inch of space between them. He can feel every dip and curve of her body but it’s still not enough, he needs her closer than close allows. Her palms come up to cup his cheeks, her dainty fingers gentle but firm, and then she’s peppering kisses over every part of his face she can reach as he hums along happily. God, this is so good. It’s perfect. 

She’s placing her third kiss on the bridge of his nose when he gets impatient, tilting his head up so her lips are forced to meet his own. She gasps in surprise and that’s all he needs, opening his own mouth to match hers, lips melding, tongues tangling. Nic moans and he’s not even a little bit embarrassed, can’t be when he’s in fucking nirvana. Olandria bites his bottom lip, nibbling, then sucking his soul away when she soothes it after.

One of his hands releases her side to grip her thigh, tapping twice. She doesn’t hesitate or break their kiss as her hands clutch his shoulders to lift herself the tiniest bit higher, allowing her legs to wrap themselves around his waist, latching tight. His palms slide to her ass, cupping it, holding her up by his grip. It’s her turn to moan, straight into his mouth, and Nic inhales it like it’s air. 

He can’t think beyond the sensations, the pulse of need running through him. Nothing matters but this, but her. Nothing exists beyond them and where they connect. They’d always been good at this. Even when they were complete strangers standing on a cheesy heart platform, meeting lips for the first time in front of other strangers and cameras. They’d had chemistry, an undeniable physical attraction that made them fit together seamlessly. She’d been one of the best kisses he’d ever had in his life. Every kiss after got even better. But the ones they share now– it’s life altering. Now, they know each other deeply, intimately. They’re committed to each other, a relationship that grows everyday, and it makes every touch superior. 

Olandria is just too good of a kisser. He won’t ever be able to go back from this, doesn’t want to. And she’s simply never allowed to kiss anybody else but him ever again. Ever. They’d both done their fair share on that godforsaken show, but that was it. No one else anymore. Those kisses, her kisses, are his now. All of them. 

When they finally stop it’s because she breaks away from his mouth, chest heaving. Somewhere in the midst of all that he’d pushed her up against the wall, so there’s a thunk as she leans her head back to rest, trying to catch her breath. He uses the new angle to leave wet kisses down her neck, still not done feeling her. Her nails grip his curls in response. 

He doesn’t stop until both their pulses start to slow down. Once they begin to feel a little less unhinged and a little more human he leaves one last butterfly soft press of his lips to her collarbone, right over her tattoo, then lifts his head. His mouth splits into a grin so wide his cheeks hurt, dimple indenting deep as their eyes meet. 

“Hey Olly girl.”

She giggles. “Hey yourself. You nearly killed me there.”

He can’t help the sense of pride that begins to unfurl inside him– or the smirk that slips across his face. “Yeah?”

“Oh don’t you go acting all cocky. Who you feeling like, Nicky?”

“Feeling like the luckiest guy in the world actually.”

“Is that so?”

“I’ve got you wrapped around me after you just flew hours to come see me. I’m pretty sure I can still taste your spit on my tongue. Yeah, I’m feeling pretty lucky.”

“Nic, you freak! Don’t be gross!”

He makes a show of licking over his lips slowly to tease her some more, bursting into heavy laughter when she tries to shove his head away. He ignores the push, stealing one last peck, before he backs up from the wall and sets her down gently. Though if he’s honest he doesn’t last a full minute before he’s reaching for her again. She’s barely straightened her clothes back out when his hands latch onto her hips, dragging her with him as he directs them to the couch. She ends up sitting sideways on his lap, legs sprawled over his thighs, one hand on his neck, the other holding his. 

“How was your flight?”

“It was okay. A little long, but worth it. No one saw me at the airport I don’t think.”

“No one ever sees you there. My little spy, sneaking in and out of places.”

Olandria snorts. 

“You didn’t message that you landed or that you were on the way though. I was checking. Repeatedly.”

“I wanted to see if I could surprise you again. Wanted to see your face when you saw me without fully expecting it.”

“Did I look like I was seeing the sun for the first time? Or God? That’s what I would equate the feeling to.”

She kisses his cheek for that one. 

He takes a moment to fully absorb the fact she’s here with him; here in the same place, the same room, in his lap and in his arms, exactly where he wants her. This is the happiest, steadiest, he’s felt in weeks. His girl, his O, is here. Everything is better from that alone. Her presence is like a balm and a shot of adrenaline all at once. 

Until they had to constantly be apart he hadn’t realized how spoiled the villa had made him in regards to her presence. Even when they weren’t together as a couple he got to see her, be around her, interact with her everyday for six weeks. He woke up every morning and went to bed every night with her there. She became one of his best friends that way. Not having that anymore has been an adjustment. They’re both capable of living independent lives and they like doing their own thing– but being together will always be what makes them the most content. 

They fall into easy conversation as they always do. It’s great. They laugh (so much so they have to hold onto each other to keep from completely folding over, overcome by cackles), lip lock, touch, and share. Olandria tells him about her latest pursuits, updates on her friends and family, how long the new blonde hairdo took. He talks about his own business adventures, how his people are looking forward to this weekend, how much he’s obsessed with every single hair-do she ever has (he knows she’s gorgeous, is keenly aware of that absolute of life, but holy shit, every time she comes out with new hair he’s astounded at her versatility; almost drops to his knees with every style, but he fears he’d bruise like a peach with how often he’d be doing so), and how he’s about to be in the club with his favorite blonde.

He thinks an hour or two goes by when he reluctantly lets her up from his lap so she can start getting ready (they’d had to go to her room to get her bags– why Quan bothered getting two rooms for them he doesn’t know; as if Nic was going to spend a night apart from her). He’d already made sure to feed her (in the literal sense too– Olandria never touched a single nugget that made it to her mouth) and she needed to do her makeup for the night. She’s barely started when the boys get back, coming to grab Nic to head out for the venue. They find him sitting right next to her on the floor, facing her as she faces the mirror, her products on a towel surrounding them. 

Logically, Nic knows he needs to go. He knows this is exactly what he’s meant to be doing, that it’s the plan to leave, the only way for the night to start. He knows they’re already running late. He also knows that he really doesn’t want to leave O. 

“But Ola just started her makeup.”

The boys blink. “Okay?”

They wait for Nic to say more. To explain. He doesn’t. He just hands Olandria the brush she’s reaching for. She kisses his hand in thanks. He melts. Yeah, clearly he can’t leave. 

“Um… is it– Olandria did you need us to get something for you from the store or something? Like before we head out?” Xavier asks this, trying to understand why Nic said the statement like it completely explains his lack of movement out the door with them.

“Nope, I’m good. I’ll be ready to go when yall swing back around. Be safe and have fun at the meet & greet!” She smiles at all of them and they all say their goodbyes back. 

Nic still doesn’t move. 

“Vans… you coming?”

He ignores them.

“Nic.”

Olandria’s starting to apply blush. He feels a very odd urge to lick it off her face. Yeah, they were right— he is a freak. 

“Nic, we gotta go, come on dude.”

When he continues to not move, they continue to urge him, but no one dares to walk to them to move him after the deadly glare Nic sent their way when Quan took a step toward the couple. 

After a minute of this, Olandria turns to him and giggles. “Baby, they waiting on you. You gotta go. Get a move on.”

He pouts. “But I like watching you do this. Who else is going to hand you the brushes?”

There’s a mixture of snorts, groans, and choked disbelief from the group behind them. 

“Who even is he right now?” Ethan whispers. 

Olandria laughs some more. “I can handle my brushes just fine. Go,” She nods her head in the direction of the exit as she says the last words. 

He fights it for a bit more, procrastinating going. It’s Olandria that gets him out the door. 

“Go, baby. I’ll see you soon. I’m gonna be right here when you’re done and we can have a night together with everyone.”

She lays a firm kiss on his lips and he’s half dazed when the boys finally drag him out. He doesn’t even comprehend their teasing jokes about him being sprung. He is. He’s okay with that.

Quan and him end up having to run into the venue, late as hell, supporters yelling their names and waving at them. It’s worth it. It’s so fucking worth it.

Chapter Text

Olandria sits in the car, nerves buzzing. She’s almost at the venue, minutes away after Nic told her to head over instead of waiting, and her heart is beating out of her chest for a reason she can’t explain. 

The meet & greet went amazing, as Nic told her. So many people showed up and showed out, love and gifts galore. A bunch of the “Nicolandria Avengers” were present and the energy was already electric. Nic's messages were sweet and excited, even as he’d told her Max spilled the beans to TikTok live (though she had a feeling that wasn’t the first slip up– God bless her man but the boy couldn’t hold water), and despite the fact she knew he should be busy with his duties he was still texting her every few minutes– asking for updates on her location, building up what the night was gonna be with her there. 

My sweet boy. 

Leave it to him to turn an event centered around himself into a grand entrance for her. He was so giving it made her head spin sometimes. 

As the car pulled into a lot across the street she could see Quan running out of the building, making a beeline for her. She rolled the window down when he made it to her door, taking off her sunglasses.

“Everything good, Q?” 

He nodded fast. “All good. Nic’s on stage now, behind the booth. Crowds hype as fuck already.”

She smiled. “They love him.” As they should. 

“They do. You too. Like, holy shit, the amount of gifts tonight was crazy. You’re people are so creative, the stuff they make are things I could never even think of and it’s so legit. I got more shirts!” 

Olandria laughed at his excitement. He looked so proud, like it was some official acceptance into an exclusive club. “Teeaaaa, that’s so cool.”

“Dope as hell. You ready to go in?”

She straightened her shoulders, reached for her glasses to put them back on. “Yeah, think so. Ready as I’ll ever be. Why do I feel so nervous? Is it like this for Nic?”

“To be fair, it takes a lot to make Vans nervous. He’s like a fucking energizer bunny.”

That got out a cackle. “Oh my god, why’s that so accurate?”

“Because he is, that man functions on 100. Social anxiety fears him or some shit, bro. Nothing really gives him nerves. Well, except you.”

Olandria is not smiling at that. She’s not. She is not biting down a shy grin, nor attempting to stomp out the butterflies (ones with wings that feel like they beat to the sound of Nic’s name) in her stomach. She is not reminiscing on the fact Nic basically said this exact same thing to her in the villa– that she makes him nervous, a “good type of nervous” as he’d described it. She is not turning into a sap of sentimentality over this white man while he’s not even present. She’s not. (This is despicable. She truly can’t get up. She’s too far gone. Someone call someone– life alert or something. The streets have lost another baddie– as if Meg wasn’t enough.)

Quan helps her out of the car and directs her to the back of the building where they take some pictures and videos for content. Before she knows it, she’s hiding in a back stairwell with Alex and Xavier, their cameras already filming, her body already going jittery. Quan runs her by the plan one more time, saying he’s gonna go check on Nic and everything out there once more before he comes back for her. She nods because she’s suddenly too anxious to use her vocal chords. 

Fuck, this is kind of terrifying. 

She applauds Nic for doing it multiple nights a week, because right now she feels like she’s about to jump out of her skin. She doesn’t even know what she’s nervy about but the feelings are there, trying their best to be released. 

Quan pauses before he leaves. He looks her over, maybe sensing how on edge she is, and brings a comforting hand up to squeeze her shoulder. “You got this Lan.”

Once he leaves, Alex and Xavier take over, making idle conversation while she checks her phone one last time, knowing it’ll be gone from her once she gets out there. It’s in that anticipatory calm that they all start to hear the voices. Muffled, bleeding through the thick walls, and there’s music playing over them, but the sound is unmistakable. 

“O! O! O! O!”

She blinks. Maybe she’s going crazy. “I– Do you… Do yall… hear that?”

The boys grin, wide and big. “Hell yeah we do.”

She listens some more. It’s still going. 

“Olandria! Olandria! Olandria! Olandria!” 

“They saying my name?” Her mouth drops open a little bit, hand bracing on her chest, shock running through her. “Do you hear that shit!? No, that is crazy.” She gestures wildly, using her thumb to point at a crowd that’s not in view. An amazed laugh bursts out of her, uncontrollable. 

She turns to the camera, throwing up a sign. “Olafest we live!”

Quan jogs into the doorway. “Yo! Let’s go!”

She makes her way down the stairs, following Quan as he leads their charge. He has to stop her from just walking into the club entrance and she turns to giggle at the camera still on her, shrugging. “I’m nervous! I’m excited though!”

It’s in the brief halt that she realizes what’s playing from the speakers. She’s close enough, in front of an open door, that she can finally hear the music clearly. It’s Alicia Keys. Specifically Un-thinkable (I’m Ready) by Alicia Keys. 

Oh no he did not. This boy…

Quan looks back at her and waves everyone forward. “Come on, let’s go.”

The second Olandria steps out it’s pandemonium. Screams erupt, ringing through the entire place, bouncing off every wall. Lights flash all around, every eye, every lens looking at her (maybe these glasses weren’t bigger than needed, even if they did go with the fit…). She waves as she passes, the excitement rushing through her veins. It’s such a surreal experience to see, to feel. She’s so taken by it as she’s walking that she can’t even fully appreciate the sight of Quan holding her pretty pink phone, grip tight as hell, and clutching her mini purse to his shoulder like he’s carrying items of national security. 

Oh he’s precious. Quantrol it indeed. 

The boys are on either side of her, front and back, moving with her to ensure she doesn’t walk on her own, keeping her directed and safe. But the second she’s halfway up the stairwell Nic is there, hand stretching out for hers. Olandria slips her palm into his grasp and he guides her up the rest of the steps, positively beaming at her. 

“Hey superstar.” 

When she’s made it up she moves to the faraway edge of the stage, finding a space to stand and face the crowd directly. She continues to wave, smiling and soaking in the love being exclaimed. Viewing it all from this vantage point is even more astonishing, momentarily stunning her. 

Nic comes to her side, miming a camera with his hands, snapping away pictures of her and she giggles, using her own hands to gesture in a sign of “tea”, pointer fingers tapping against her thumbs. She doesn’t know who stops and reaches for the other first, but suddenly they’re pulling each other into an embrace. Her arms circle his waist while his go around her shoulders, hugging her to him. It’s quick but it’s everything. A mini moment of greeting after their short time apart. 

Nic is the first to speak when they separate, yelling over the crowd. “You like it?”

Olandria brings her hands up to cover her cheeks, smile so big it almost hurts. “This is crazy bro.”

He laughs then turns them both back to the DJ booth, his arm sliding around her waist to tug her into his side. She goes willingly, letting him whisper in her ear. Nic then encourages the crowd to hype her up even more and she couldn’t stop the absolute joy from playing across her face if she wanted to.

“Nic, this is wild, oh my god.”

“They love you baby. Maybe not as much as me buutttt…”

She barks out a laugh, rolling her eyes. The crowd is still losing their minds, and Olandria feels breathless from it. It’s an incredible feeling to have a room full of people so blatantly, loudly supporting you. No wonder Nic keeps doing it, regardless of the lows that can occur. 

Well and the check…

She reaches up to take her glasses off, and from the corner of her eye she swears to God it… it looks like Nic is throwing it back on her. That’s… nah, there’s no way. She rolls her hips a little when he’s behind her again, just subtly feeling the music. 

Nic slides a palm around her hip, leaning down to speak. “Small waist but a big bang, right?”

Ola turns her head, trying to decide if she heard him correctly. “Hm?”

His eyes are playful as he repeats himself,  “Small waist but a big bang, baby. I can put it on you, you don’t even know, my moves go crazy. Can even slide bills into my shorts for my performance.”

It’s really not that funny but she bursts into giggles, spinning in a circle to face him, so unbelievably thrilled from him, from the fans. He feeds into it, laughing right back, holding her to him, even as she swivels round from exhilaration and amusement. At some point the microphone gets passed to her and honestly, she blacks out on half of what she says. What she does recall is the chant of “Olafest!” back at her, the love sick smile Nic is aiming at her (while in her now stolen glasses), the hyperactive screams of the boys (as well as them dutifully getting her fan when she asks for it), and the shots taken (she still doesn’t know the full lore of “baddie baddie shot o’clock”; the fact her lanky little white boy not only knows it, but also leads the chorus of it, is a fact that will forever leave her stumped on his knowledge base). 

City Girls begins to play and she starts cutting up, lyrics spilling out fast, body bouncing to the beat as she performs for the masses. And sue her, maybe she gets a little bold, pointing right at Nic as she yells out the line “He gon’ buy me Gucci if I ask for it”. It’s mostly for a laugh but by this point– she’s almost positive he would. And without hesitation at that. Just an answering “Mkay” and the swipe of his card. He’d do it in his Ross sneakers too. The people down below love it, roaring out their approval, and her poor baby looks over at the noise to see what’s going on, none the wiser. 

After a while she turns to face Nic. He bends down to hear her before she’s even opened her mouth.

“Is it safe for me to go down there? I want to talk to them but I don’t want anything to go wrong.”

He’s nodding immediately. “I’ll go with you.”

She moves back to look him in the eye, a little thrown at his automatic offer. “You will?”

“Yeah, I’ll be right next to you, you’ll be good. We’ll make sure there’s guards around you too.”

Then he takes her hand, informs the security of their plan, and gently guides her down the stairs. He doesn’t release her until she’s on flat ground and even then he’s right behind her the whole time. As she blows kisses, converses, poses for pictures, and hugs their supporters, he never wavers. He keeps her in direct eyesight, monitoring everything happening, never more than two steps away. Any time she reaches he’s there in a second, hands on her, eyes checking to make sure she’s still good. 

“I’m just watching, taking it all in. Go shine, O. I’m just here to guard and support.”

Must he say things like that? Is he trying to ruin her?

When she makes it down the line the boys surround her at the door. Nic is tugging her hand, albeit softly, trying to get them both out to the backstage. 

“Yo, are yall leaving?” Quan asks, a little bewildered. 

Olandria looks at Nic. This is still his event. She’ll follow his lead. Though she didn’t assume he’d exit out that quickly. 

Nic glances at her then turns back to the guys. “O’s gonna meet some of the supporters upstairs later. I want her to have some time to breathe in between that and this.”

Quan nods. “That’s cool. But uh, you planning on going with her bro? You still needed out here.”

Quan sounds apologetic as he says it but Nic looks ready to argue anyway. She steps in. 

“Baby, I’m good. Go do your thing. I’ll chill in the back ‘till you're done.”

He sighs. “I– yeah, okay. Okay. I’ll be back as soon as I can, promise. If you need anything call, whoever has the live will see it.”

“I’ll be fine, Nicky. Go party.” She smiles so he knows she means it. 

Nic looks back to Quan. “Can you take her to the backroom?”

“Yeah, I got it.”

She can physically see Nic fight the urge to kiss her goodbye. It’s in their nature to do so, but they’re careful about the PDA they do when there’s people and cameras around. Unfortunately, his knee-jerk response paired with his visible restraint to respect a boundary makes her want to kiss his face off. She squeezes his hand instead. 

And if anybody asks— she definitely does not count the minutes going by because she misses him already. She doesn’t. She’s just time savvy. If anything, she’s just counting down the seconds until he’s back because she wants to get her meet & greet going. It has nothing to do with him specifically. Nothing at all. 

Mind ya damn business. 

——

Nic doesn’t think he’s ever sped-run a bar hop and dance before but there’s a first time for everything. 

After separating from Olandria he does some more time on stage, catching chucked phones (which– what the hell?), and then makes his way to the bar, hopping onto the counter, strutting his way across, bopping about like he usually does. But all of his movements are quicker than usual, like he’s put himself into two times speed. In his head he’s measuring, glancing at the clocks on the walls, debating how much time is long enough for him to be able to dip. Frankly, he thinks everyone here would probably understand. They too love Olandria. They too would abandon everything if they had her backstage waiting on them, all smiley and in leather. 

Holy shit, Olandria is backstage waiting for me in leather micro shorts. 

Yeah, time to go. 

Quan doesn’t even bother to question him again, simply handing him his phone and directing their group out. Nic talks mindless chatter to the live, keeping an eye on where they’re walking, looking out for the door that holds O. The chat begs for another glimpse of Ola and while he sympathizes with their desires… he’s reached his limit on sharing her. Her meet with the fans is about to happen, but right now he wants privacy with her before they have to be observed again. 

“Sorry yall, I don’t know about that. Private time, you know?” He doesn’t even say goodbye before he cuts the live off. 

The second she’s in view he’s on her. He throws himself on the seat next to her and draws her into his body. Her phone falls out of her hands but he can’t even bring himself to care (he’ll apologize later). He grabs her legs to pull them over his lap and shoves his face into her neck. He can feel her giggle as it travels through her throat and he presses his lips to the vibration. 

“You smell good, O.”

“Thank you, baby. Have fun?”

“So much fun. You killed it. They fucking loved you. Superstar status baby.”

She laughs. “I meant after I left, but thank you. That was so crazy. Fun, so fun, but wow. I don’t know how you do that, like, every night. You and the boys deserve an award or sumn.”

He doesn’t think he does all that much, even if it is kind of exhausting at times. Quan, Max, the rest of them, though, do deserve an award. Running and planning this shit is not easy, he knows. He appreciates them more than he can explain, especially after this. 

They unpack the night, going over interactions, the feeling of the crowd. This is the happiest he’s ever been after a Greekfest event. His friends asked him that exact question, if he was happy, so much tonight and he can’t blame them. Right now is the liveliest he’s felt in a minute. Olandria stepped into his world for a night and brought so much fucking light with her it’s illuminating him from the inside out. She truly is a star. The brightest one out there. 

The second meet & greet goes wonderfully. It’s a lot more selective but it makes it all the sweeter, since it’s the true core of their supporters. They talk, laugh, and open gifts. Olandria is her beautiful, welcoming self, charming and funny, and Nic matches her energy vibe for vibe. It’s all so amazing, something they’re both thankful for. But, by the end of the night, Nic is ready to go. 

As soon as the gifts are put up Nic secures his arm tight around Ola’s shoulders. “Kay, we’re gonna head out.”

Max blinks. “Are we not all leaving together?”

“No.”

“Uh… why?”

“Because.”

“Dude, we’re all going back to the hotel. Wouldn’t it make sense for us to leave together?”

“Max, my threat to drop kick you still stands. Do not piss me off.”

Quan snorts. Ola smacks his chest. “Don’t be mean to Maxy!”

“You have a nickname for him too!?” The glare he swings to Max is viscous. Maybe he actually will kick him. 

“Why are you mad at me!? I didn’t do anything!” Max pouts. 

You know what, Nic does not have time for this. The car he ordered is five minutes away. God willing, hopefully he can get Olandria back to their hotel in the next twenty minutes. 

“We are leaving. Yall can get back separately. In a different vehicle. Away from us. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

Xavier grins, cheeky and audacious. “Not very Earth conscious of you Nic.”

He takes it back. He does not appreciate his friends. They suck.

O giggles. Nic counts to ten. 

She goes to hug each of them, saying goodbye and thanking them. Nic says his own farewells, even if they are all ribbing him at this point. 

Quan walks out with them, along with security, clearing a path and making sure O is okay to get in the car. Nic is seconds away from escape, opening the door for his girl, when an arm suddenly shoots out in front of her. He almost jumps at it, prepared to shove Ola behind him, Quan looking like he’s about to do the same, until they both realize it’s someone trying to shove their phone at her. Olandria, being the sweetheart she is, takes it. Nic fights to keep his expression clear of murderous intent. 

He allows her to snap one picture before he grabs the device, tossing it into the small mob beside the car, not even caring if it reaches the proper recipient. It is so far past time to leave. 

Finally, blessedly, they make it into the vehicle. Nic buckles Ola in, then himself, and grabs her hand as they settle in for the ride. 

“Thank you, like, so fucking much for coming. This… this was everything.”

Her expression melts, eyes going soft. “Of course, Nicky. I got you. Your world matters to me. You matter to me. Always.”

He can’t stop himself from kissing her, but he keeps it to a light peck. Ten minutes left of the car ride. Ten minutes left of his self control. 

“It was also really fun. I get why you do it. Meeting everyone, it’s so nice. All the support and love. I know it’s not always great interactions, but I get what you mean about the good ones outweighing any bad. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before, the way they love us.”

“Yeah, it’s insane. Sometimes I pinch myself because I can’t believe it.”

She laughs, “Not pinching.”

He waggles his brows, aiming for seductive– and failing. “You could pinch me.”

“Oh, Freaky Nicky is back huh?”

“Freaky Nicky is always back when you’re around.”

She smirks. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Which, speaking of, you look so fucking good O. I’m sorry I didn’t get to say it earlier. This look… the leather… yeah O, you ate this up.”

“You like it?”

“Love it. All the teas, baby. Jasmine tea, black tea, green tea, english breakfast tea, fuckin’ earl grey.”

O giggles, then flashes that smile that makes him feel like there’s electricity running all over his body. The one with her head tilted down, big beautiful eyes mischievous as hell. “You know what I think you might really love?”

“What?”

She gets even closer, leaning up to whisper in his ear. “I’m not wearing a bra under this jacket.”

Right as the words leave her mouth, they pull up to the hotel. Nic gulps. 

Yeah. He’s about to tear that room up. 

Chapter Text

Do you know how crushing it is to go to sleep with an Olandria in your bed, but then wake up without an Olandria in your bed? 

It’s a life-ruining event.

Alright, maybe just morning ruining, but still. 

The sound of insistent knocks on the door is what drags Nic into consciousness. He doesn’t even open his eyes at first, just lets out a groan and reaches for O. They don’t usually move very far from each other in sleep, if at all, so he expects to meet her warmth almost immediately. Instead, he meets hotel sheets, still slightly rumpled but devoid of one petite goddess.

Well fuck him, he’s awake now. 

He leans up on one shoulder, finally blinking his eyes open to view his surroundings. The room is still, only one lamp on in the far corner, so dim the glow doesn’t even reach the bed. Olandria must have turned it on so she could see enough to walk, since the blackout curtains are still covering the windows. Speaking of Olandria… he still doesn’t see her. 

“O?” The curly haired brunette calls out, voice still low and rough from sleep. 

“Bathroom!” He hears her shout, slightly muffled. “Brushing my teeth, hold on!”

Nic grumbles as he untangles himself from the bed linens, planning to go glue himself to her. He needs morning cuddles and he needs them now.

He’s managed to stumble halfway to the bathroom when the knocking starts again. 

Oh for fuck’s sake. 

Nic yanks the bedroom door open, all sense of manners and propriety nowhere to be found. He’s in nothing but his boxers, his nipples are pebbled from the cold, and he’s glaring so hard he’s surprised whoever's on the other end of it hasn’t turned to ice (maybe his lack of a PR team is more obvious than he thought…).

It’s Max and Alex. An unfrozen Max and Alex. 

“Hi!” They both smile, bright and happy, as if it isn’t entirely too early for a visit. 

“No.”

Matching expressions of confusion. “Uh… No?”

“Whatever it is, no. Go away. Too early for this. My alarm to get ready for the flight hasn’t even gone off. Leave me alone.”

Alex rocks on his heels. “To be fair, we’re not really here for you, soooo…”

Rude. And confusing. “Then why are you here?”

Max answers this time, voice joyous. “Ola said she’d have breakfast with us this morning!”

“You-“ Nic squints his eyes, trying to comprehend the words. “She what?”

“Last night, you know, when we were all talking with her. Ola said she was excited to officially meet us, and we were just cutting up and stuff. She’s, like, really fucking cool and so funny-”

“Yes, I’m aware.” Normally he loves hearing people sing O’s praises, but right now they’re keeping him from Olandria and quality snuggle in bed time. He needs them gone.

“-and so sweet! Like, so, so nice. I mean, we obviously already knew that, but talking to her in person is so wild. She’s awesome, bro.”

“Again, I’m aware. What does this have to do with breakfast?”

“Oh! Quan joked that we wouldn’t even get to hang with her while she’s visiting because you were gonna try and hog her. So she made breakfast plans with us for this morning. We’re here to get her!”

Nic stares. They grin back. 

“You’re… taking my girlfriend to breakfast?”

“Yeah! Just downstairs, the hotel serves breakfast till 10. The others are getting a table.”

“Did anyone think to include me in these breakfast plans?”

Max has the nerve to look perplexed at the question. “Why would we do that?”

Nic really is going to end up drop kicking him. “I hate you.”

Alex tries to offer up a “We figured you’d want to sleep?” but Nic just rolls his eyes. 

“Yes. I do want to sleep. With Olandria, who you are currently trying to kidnap.”

“Kidnap is crazy, Nicky.” 

Nic swings around at the sound of her voice. 

There’s my girl. 

She’s fresh faced, bonnet off, blonde tresses tussled. Gorgeous as usual. She’s also in more clothes than she went to bed in. He’s mildly depressed by it. He blames the boys. 

Olandria walks over to them and Nic doesn’t hesitate to grab onto her. He curls around her back, arms circling around her waist, nuzzling his face into her hair. Fucking finally, he’s been missing her since he woke up. She lets her left hand trace lazy lines up and down his forearm, causing shivers to race through his body, while her right waves at the menaces in front of them. 

“Morning, yall.”

“Morning, Ola! Ready to go?”

“No.”

“Yep.”

The couple speaks at the same time. Nic looks down at her, betrayed. Ola looks up at him, amused. 

“Problem, Nicky?”

“Yes. Many. They started when I woke up without you next to me. What was up with that?”

“Oh, my poor baby.”

He doesn’t even care if she’s being sarcastic, he nods his agreement and pouts. “Exactly. And now these people- actually, no, these hooligans-”

“You mean your friends?”

“Yeah, we’re standing right here, you know. Why are we being insulted?”

“-are trying to take you from me. Tell them to go away.”

O laughs at him. “Baby, it’s just breakfast.”

“I haven’t even gotten cuddles yet. This is cruel and unusual punishment.” 

Alex snorts. Nic ignores him. 

“I’m sorry, Nicky. We can cuddle later, promise.” Olandria strokes his cheek and he leans into it. “But I’m gonna go have breakfast with the guys right now. I wanna have time with them too. They’re really great. Just like you said.”

Nic sighs the biggest sigh he’s ever made.

Why must he befriend such lovable people? Now, here he is, and those lovable people love each other, and want to hang out. Truly, it’s terrible (he’s so beyond grateful– he doesn’t know what he did to deserve the beautiful souls in his life). He can’t even really be annoyed at the guys for wanting more time to know Ola. Nic has known her for months at this point and it’s still not enough. He’s constantly craving more of her— more of her time, more of who she is. Of course his friends want to spend time with her. Serves him right for dating the most wonderful woman in the world. 

“You can come too, you know.” Olandria tugs on his wrist, her voice suggestive, attempting to be enticing. As if she needs to tempt him, as if he’s ever been able to deny her anything.

He pecks her lips, needing at least one kiss before he sends her off. “Fine. Go be a traitor. I’m gonna put some pants on and I’ll meet you down there in a little bit. Save me a seat.”

She smiles so big it stretches from ear to ear and Nic thinks he’d do anything in the world to keep that look on her face.

Maybe he’ll let himself take his time before he goes downstairs. Just to give them all some space to bond before he joins in. Clearly, she’s excited about it. And underneath the lovesick urge to keep her to himself, he can admit there’s an even bigger feeling of reverence for the fact she cares enough about him to want to connect with those important to him. She considers them important too, she genuinely likes them and they like her back. She’s becoming a part of his world. It’s all he’s ever wanted. (He might not survive her seeing his family today. Can you have a heart attack from too much happiness?)

Olandria gives him another quick kiss before stepping out of the room. 

Max is grinning, eyebrows raised high on his forehead. “She said we’re great.” 

He sounds like he’s just been told the Colts won the superbowl. Nic can’t judge him– it’s valid. Compliments from Olandria might as well be a straight hit of dopamine. “Yeah, she did, buddy. You are great. Both of you. Tony the Tiger level great.”

Max and Alex do a happy little hum, then lead Olandria down the hall, already talking animatedly. 

He doesn’t shut the door until they’re out of eyesight, returning to the room. His turn to brush his teeth.

—

“Um… Nic? Can you come here?” Olandria waits for Nic to come out of the bathroom, where he’s doing a last minute sweep to make sure they haven’t left anything behind. 

They’d been back up in the room for a little under an hour now, finishing up last minute packing and cuddling (as she promised). Breakfast went well. Really well. The boys were hilarious and she found she meshed with them seamlessly, something she didn’t fully expect, their humor’s syncing up with hers like old friends. They were lively and rambunctious, but sweet as sugar. She could see why Nic loved them and how he was able to travel all over the country with them without losing his mind. 

Nic makes his way back into the room. “What’s up, O?” 

“It’s about my ticket. I hadn’t really looked at it ‘till now.”

His brows furrow in concern and he comes closer. “Is something wrong with it? I double checked with Quan to make sure you were set, we both looked over everything.”

“Not wrong exactly. It’s just… uh, do you know it’s seat 1A?”

“Sounds right, yeah.”

She pauses. Does he get what she’s saying? “Nic, do you know what 1A… means?”

Nic looks confused now. “Uh, no? Should I?”

Olandria doesn’t know how to approach this. The ticket had to be a mistake, right? She doesn’t want to cause issues rearranging shit, but she’s also pretty sure she’s not supposed to be at the very front of the damn plane, in first class. She’s seen pictures of the boys on their flights, cramped into whatever seats they end up in. She knows they don’t ride first class– so they need to figure out what went wrong with her ticket sooner rather than later. 

Unfortunately, Nic takes her brief silence as a reason to panic. “Fuck, I should, shouldn’t I? Darling, I’m sorry. Is it, like, bad luck or something to be in that seat? Or- do you not like the number 1? I can probably get you a new seat, or if worse comes to worse, you and I can take a later flight and-”

“Nicky, chill, baby. Breathe, you talking way too fast.”

He finally stops his rambling and she takes the opportunity to explain. “There’s no bad luck. And no, I don’t got an issue with the number 1, for the record. I just don’t think yall meant to get me this seat.”

Her boy is back to looking bewildered. “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t we mean to?”

“1A is first class.”

She waits for the realization to hit and for him to problem solve again on switching her ticket. Except there’s no moment of clarity coming over his features. He just stares at her, nodding. “Yeah.”

Now she’s confused. “I didn’t think yall flew first class when traveling for the shows.”

His tone is casual. “Oh, we don’t.” 

She blinks. Blinks again. Nope, still confused. “So then why is my ticket…?”

They’ve apparently switched places, because all at once Nic seems to be gaining understanding while she proceeds to get more lost. “Oh, wait, is that what you’re talking about?”

“Yes?”

“Of course your ticket’s first class O. Quan, Max, and I made sure of it.”

“But you just said-”

Nic grins at her. She can’t tell if the smile is utterly besotted or entirely too smug. Maybe both. “I said we don’t fly first class. As in me and the rest of the commoners. You thought we’d have you in coach, baby?” 

For one full minute, Olandria’s brain blanks. Goes offline, goes on vacation, fails her in being functional. It’s not a sensation she’s used to.

“I-” She doesn’t know what to say. She’s still a little confused, a lot flustered, and she suddenly wishes they weren’t set to leave soon and that Nic didn’t have pants on. 

Control it, Olandria. 

Nic comes up to grab her hands. “I might slum it, and my friends might slum it, but you will not. Not if I have any say in it. You deserve the best. Always.”

“Nic, it’s a seat on a plane. I am perfectly capable of sitting in a normal seat, you don’t have to-”

“Nope, no arguments. You will sit your pretty ass in first class and enjoy all the luxuries of it.”

“Nicky-”

“Stop arguing-”

“But-”

“No buts!” And he plants a firm kiss on her lips to keep her from talking back. When he pulls away he keeps his hands on her face, palms cradling her cheeks. “You will be sitting in 1A. That’s that. Besides, Max and Quan were insistent on it too. Said Greekfest would never treat Queen Ola to less than the finest offered.”

She feels her chest squeeze at the knowledge the boys think so highly of her. “You all are so extra, I swear.”

“Nah, we’re just aware we're in the presence of royalty.”

Olandria rolls her eyes, but they both know she’s smiling and she’s pretty sure he can feel the heat rising to the surface of her skin. 

“I mean it though, Ola. You deserve the best. You know that, right?”

She knows. But fuck if hearing him affirm it doesn’t make her heart race. 

Screw the time. She’ll make it work. “Take your pants off.”

Pale as he is, his face turns red in an instant. “I- what?” He stutters. 

“Pants off. Everything off actually. Bed. Now.”

Nic nods fast, scrambling to back up to the mattress and remove his clothing at the same time. “Yes ma’am.” 

Might as well christen the hotel room one last time. Packing can wait. 

Chapter Text

Olandria is ten seconds from crying. Like, boohoo snot, nose running, lashes fucked, eyes totally bloodshot crying. 

She’s trying to choke it back, to breathe through the sudden weight in her chest and the knot in her throat but she’s failing. Bad. 

They’d been at Nic’s family home for a couple hours now. Her and Nic had taken an uber from the airport, separating from the rest of the boys to get some personal time with his parents before everyone got on the road to Tallahassee. And it’d been amazing. Truly so amazing Olandria almost couldn’t believe it. 

Olandria had been a bit nervous, but not necessarily anxious over the meeting. She knew how to charm parents. She was smart, kind, had a good head on her shoulders. Attributes that parents tended to like. And she’d already met Miss Jennifer in person, even if it had been on the island, and it’d gone well. She’d also spoken to both of Nic’s parents over the phone, facetimes with all four of them, sometimes five when Ella joined, and texts here and there with Miss Jennifer. Communication had been opened and continued throughout the months since leaving the villa. So, logically, she knew the event of finally seeing them in person, spending time with them, should run relatively smoothly. 

Nevertheless, nothing could have prepared her for how great it had gone. 

Nic had just opened the front door with his key, yelling out to the house (an absolutely stunning house, Olandria noted). “We’re here!”

Barely a second passed before hurried footsteps sounded down the hall, and soon Miss Jennifer was rounding the corner, a bright smile taking over her face. “You’re here!” She exclaimed. 

“Mamma!” Nic cheered, opening his arms for a hug, one hand holding a bouquet. 

Except his mother passed right by him and went straight to Olandria, enveloping the dark skinned woman into her own embrace. “Hi, beautiful girl! I’m so excited to see you, it’s been too long!”

Olandria laughed, hugging her back, letting the kindness of the fair brunette warm her to her very bones. Southern hospitality had nothing on the older woman, which was saying a lot. “Hi, Miss Jennifer! Thank you so much for having me! Nic and I brought you some flowers, as a little thank you.” 

Nic’s mom pulled away from her, still beaming. “Oh, you’re so sweet!”

“It’s the least I could do. Felicia taught me to never show up empty handed. Especially to such a nice place. Your home is gorgeous, Miss Jennifer, truly.”

The Baltimore native thanked her happily and the two women fell into light conversation, going back and forth like old friends. There was an ease between them that made Olandria’s guard lower.

She knew how to charm parents. How to be respectful enough to garner appreciation and interesting enough to keep attention. But something about Nic’s mom made her feel like she didn’t have to be so on. She just had to be her, and that was enough (coincidently, just like how it was with Nic…). The woman had watched Olandria for weeks on a reality T.V. show, seen her go through a multitude of situations, some not so great, some not so appropriate, and still, she’d been rooting for Olandria since the beginning, according to her own admission. Both individually and with her son. That meant the world to Olandria. 

“You know, I’m here too.” Nic waved his hand, gesturing at himself, head wagging in attitude. “Your only son, your first born, your favorite child.” 

Miss Jennifer cut off what she was saying to Olandria, snapping her head in his direction. “I have never said you were my favorite child, Nicolas.”

Nic gaped. “Well I should be!”

Jennifer raised her eyebrow. “And why is that?”

Nic spluttered. “I shouldn’t have to give you reasons!”

“Ella would give me reasons.” She hummed. 

Nic glared. “I don’t see Ella saying she’s going to retire you and dad.”

“Maybe she just doesn’t want to say it until she can actually do it.” Olandria teased.

Nic swung his eyes to her, betrayed. “O!”

Jennifer nodded in agreement. “Good point.”

“Mom!”

Miss Jennifer broke, laughing at her son’s exasperation before going to hug him. “Come here, my little meatball.”

“You sure are mean to your little meatball.” Nic grumbled. But he held his mom close, digging his head into her shoulder, hiding a grin. “Missed you.”

Olandria had watched the interaction with soft eyes and an uptick of her lips. 

He loves his mamma. Good. That’s important. 

When they made their way to the dining room, Olandria finally met Nic’s father in person. 

Nic had held her hand, proudly introducing her, almost jumping out of his skin from excitement. He had no nerves, no uncertainty. Only eager enthusiasm. Olandria loved him a little more for it. For being so confident in her, in them, that the only thing the combining of his two worlds brought him was joy. Seeing that had made something in her settle, a little voice inside her sighing peacefully.

Mr. Vansteenberghe was quieter than his wife. More introverted in comparison to his partner’s bubbly nature, but no less kind. He spoke with purpose, like all his words mattered to him and it made Olandria believe that whatever he said he meant. Which made his hello’s, his questions, his genuine curiosity of her, and his apparent gratitude for her effect on his son, followed by his praise of her as a person, hold all the more value. 

The longer she had been around the older man, the more they’d spoken, the more she had begun to understand him. In the way like calls to like, their personalities seemed to mesh, gliding along each other smoothly, two poised natures finding a match and slowly loosening at the recognition of each other. Maybe this had been why Nic was so adamant about how much her and his father would get along. She hadn’t doubted Nic on it, per say, but she wasn’t expecting just how right he would be. 

Mr. Vans was also funny as hell, though he wasn’t brazen with it. So was Miss Jennifer. It made sense. People who lacked a sense of humor couldn’t have created a character like Nic. 

Olandria had watched the couple as the day went on, seeing the man she’d fallen for in them. In his dad’s smile and his mom’s height, in the sparkle in Jennifer’s eyes and the way his dad always paid attention to whoever was speaking, to the way his mom radiated a type of light Olandria had only ever seen in one other person– her son. Like sunshine lived inside of the two of them and they couldn't help but share it with the universe. The Vansteenberghes were good. Sincerely good people. Open but firm on their principles, intentional and full of integrity, considerate but assured, so full of heart, so authentic, and so very Nic. Everything about the duo, everything they were, was everything Nic already was and all he wanted to be. These beautiful people were a part of him, so intensely ingrained into his identity, and she couldn’t help but admire them. They’d made her favorite person on Earth.  

When their fast approaching road trip became the topic of discussion (soon turning into a talk of food after Nic had complained he’d need to eat, leading to Mr. Vans mentioning the snacks he’d already packed, and then admonishing Nic for Ola’s lack of knowledge on said snacks– “Nicolas, you haven’t let her taste the food of your ancestry!? I raised you better than that! Olandria, don’t worry, we’ll fix that today. You will love them!) Olandria had excused herself for a quick bathroom trip. She’d done her business, freshened up a bit, and was making her way back to the dining room when she made the mistake of glancing at the pictures she was passing. That’s when she saw it. 

Olandria had been mid-walk when a fleeting look to the left caused her to stop dead in her tracks. Her entire body froze, legs locking, heart stopping, eyes unblinking. Breathing suddenly became a difficult task. No function in her body seemed to be working, other than the ability to stare. 

At first, she’d thought she was losing it. Seeing something that wasn’t there, twisting a visual into something it wasn’t, mistaking what was in front of her eyes. She had to be losing it. That was the only explanation. 

Yet when she’d finally able to get herself to blink, to rub her eyes and assess her vision, what lay before her didn’t change. Not even a little. So she’d forced her muscles to move and come closer. Closer. Closer. Each step felt like the tick of a countdown on a bomb, like each press of her shoe into the hardwood floors would release something catastrophic. She’d waited for the blow to hit, to knock her off her feet and transform her surroundings. It never came. 

Instead, she stood in front of a shiny black sideboard buffet, one that had pictures scattered over the flat surface on top. Olandria had noticed the other frames, the images inside, ones of Nic and Ella in varying stages of life, an older woman Olandria could only assume was a grandmother, captured moments of Miss Jennifer and Mr. Vans, all wholesome and photogenic. But those pictures aren’t what caused her to freeze. To need to come closer to confirm what she’d seen. 

Right there, in the middle of its surrounding neighbors, stands a gold frame. Elegant in its lean. And inside that elegant, fancy frame is an image of Nic— with Olandria. 

Her breath had stuttered out in a shocked gasp. 

It’s their reunion photo. One of the ones taken before they’d left their hotel to film, with both of them wrapped in gold, outfits matched, hair professionally done, her makeup flawlessly laid. Their gazes are fixed on the camera, posing, modeling, as they’d been directed. But still connected. Nic stands right behind her, barely an inch of space between them, his hands clasping her hips in a firm grip. Olandria’s own hands cover his, skin to skin. They look perfectly paired, stunning and united. 

Olandria couldn’t think as she’d stared at it. Eyes zeroed in on her own face looking back at her. What the actual fuck, man? What is she supposed to think? What is she meant to do with this?

She doesn’t even know how Miss Jennifer got this picture. If Nic had sent it to her himself or if she’d taken it from online. It doesn’t really matter either way. What matters is that she did get it, and she’d printed it, and framed it, and displayed it proudly in her house. Displayed Olandria proudly in her house. Here, in Nic’s home, his parent’s house, is a picture of her, of them, together.

What the hell?

Nic had said his parents would love her, that they already did love her, but she hadn’t truly taken the affirmation too seriously. Now, she almost had to. Because this is her first time walking into this house but this whole time there’s already been a piece of her here. A piece of her put here by the very people she’d been hoping would accept her. 

Olandria existed in this space. In their lives. And they wanted her to. They were carving out space for her to. Nic, and his parents, and Ella. All cheering her on, all inviting her into their fold like she’d always belonged there, like they’d been waiting for her. And maybe that’s putting entirely too much thought into a picture framed on a shelf, but for all her poise and control, Olandria is still tenderhearted, still so soft on the inside (Nic’s hard boiled egg indeed…), so deeply sentimental, and fuck if that sentiment hadn’t made her eyes water enough to blind her. 

Which brings her to now. Standing in the Vansteenberghe sitting room, desperately coaching herself not to boohoo sob all over this damn place.

Olandria Lashae, you will not cry in these nice people’s home. You will not. Get it together! 

But, because fate just loves to fuck with her sometimes, her internal pep talk goes to shit when Nic appears in the doorway. “O? There you are, I was worried you got lost or something.” 

He’s walking towards her, not fully able to see her face yet from the angle he’s at. 

“Mom and pops are already asking for you again. I thought I was bad with missing you the second you’re gone, but they might have me beat.” Nic chuckles. “My dad already pulled out all the snacks he packed to take with us on the drive. He’s so excited to show you them. We grew up on them, so it’s been a while since he’s had someone new to “share Belgian delicacies with”, as he says it. Personally, I’m not sure anything that comes wrapped in processed preservatives can be a delicacy, but who am I to argue?” 

Olandria tries to turn her head away when he comes closer, but Nic is kind of obsessed with eye contact, at least with her, and he doesn’t really believe in personal space when it comes to the two of them (not that she’s any better), so she doesn’t succeed in the act for very long. The more she attempts to subtly shift away, the more Nic erases the distance– bending himself to her eyelevel, leaning into her, curling himself around the shape of her body. He’s not trying to be invasive. Their norm is a constant state of closeness in some form, especially when there’s no outside observers, so he’s only acting as he always does with her. As she always welcomes, always returns. Her boy doesn’t know something is wrong and that right now she needs him far, far away from her so she doesn’t break. 

Olandria hums, fighting to keep her voice steady. “That’s great! I’m excited to try them. I’ll be there in a second, you go on ahead.”

She shouldn’t have spoken. Really, she should have known better. 

Nic is freakishly attuned to her. Like, in a way that would borderline on scary if she wasn’t really into it. He knows her, he’s taken his time to learn her, and he’s constantly discovering more of her everyday. He pays more attention to her than anybody else ever has in her life, which is sweet, and vigorously attractive, but it also means all it takes is one hitch in her breath and he’s on alert. The only reason he hadn’t picked up on her having an issue before this exact moment is because she’d been facing away from him and cutting off his resources to her. The minute she’d opened her mouth she might as well have turned on a flashing sign directing him straight to her current turmoil. 

Nic straightens up immediately. “O? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” Olandria squeaks, still not looking at him, still attempting to get her shit together. 

Nic steps even closer, barely a breath fitting in between their bodies. “O, come here, look at me. What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

Olandria drops her gaze to the ground, attempting to blink away the tears that refuse to go away, voice still way too shaky. “No! Nothing happened! Nothing is wrong, Nicky, I’m good. Fine, I’m fine, everything is fine!”

“O, baby, breathe for me please.” His hands come up, cradling her jaw, gentle, but forcing her to finally come face to face with him. 

Nic’s pretty eyes are wide, filled with worry, his eyebrows furrowed, expression so full of care it makes her want to cry even more. God damn it, this is why she needs him to get away from her. His presence is not helping with her sensitive emotions!

“Baby, are you crying?” Nic sounds devastated as he takes her in, seeing how hard she’s fighting to remain composed and losing. “Oh, O, baby, what happened? Tell me what’s wrong.”

She tries to answer, tries to explain that nothing is really wrong, but she can’t, her tongue feels too thick in her mouth, and she’s only able to let out a sad little hiccup, one that causes the saltwater in her eyes to finally stream down her cheeks. 

Nic’s face absolutely crumples and he pulls her into his chest, one hand going to the back of her head to stroke her hair, while the other lands on her lower back, under her shirt, keeping her wrapped in him. “I got you, O, it’s okay, baby. It’s okay. Just let it out, I’m here. You’re okay.”

And that’s it, that’s all it takes. She gives in, abandoning the effort to keep herself controlled. 

Quietly, Olandria cries, sinking into his embrace (thank god she’d decided to forgo makeup until tonight; she doesn’t want to know what would have happened to both her beat and Nic’s shirt). She soaks up his comfort like a plant soaks up water, allowing it to recharge her. Nic holds her, whispering encouragements into her ear, soft little words of love that slide through her like warm honey, soothing her from the inside out. He never loosens his hold, never stops the gentle patterns his fingers repeat on her scalp and skin, never stops affirming to her that he’s there, that he’s got her. And he does. She knows he does. His whole fucking family does, apparently. That’s exactly why she’s crying. 

But still, she lets him. Lets him continue to prove it. Lets him be strong for her while she needs it. In a way she’s never permitted anyone else to be. 

She doesn’t know how long they stay like that, morphed into one over emotional being. Time passes, the clock on the wall toks, his parent’s distant chatter fades in and out of hearing. Neither of them pay attention to it. 

Eventually, blessedly, she calms. Her tears stop flowing so freely, throat no longer clogged, and her equilibrium begins to return. It’s a slow process but it happens, bit by bit, her limbs regaining strength, no longer sagging all her weight onto the man keeping her upright. When she begins to pull away, Nic clutches her, not letting go. 

Olandria lifts her head up to look at him. He’s already staring down at her, searching. 

She gives him a little smile. “I’m okay, Nicky. Sorry for that. For… losing it on you.”

Nic shakes his head. “That’s not losing it, O. Don’t call it that. And don’t apologize for crying. Ever.”

Olandria could accurately be compared to a pile of mush as she hears that. “Okay.”

Nic tilts down to kiss her forehead. Her eyes shut at the sensation. 

“Can you tell me what’s wrong?” He asks softly.

She lets out a low, deprecating laugh. “Nothing. Nothing is wrong, really. I wasn’t lying.”

Nic manages to make his skepticism still look incredibly loving, one eyebrow arching up in disbelief. “O, you were crying. That’s not nothing.”

“A girl can’t cry a little? Damn.” She jokes. 

Nic drops both hands down to her hips, still keeping her pressed against him. “You can cry whenever you need to. Whenever you want to. Always.”

The statement makes Olandria’s insides turn to goo. It shouldn’t mean much, shouldn’t really mean anything, but, to her, it means everything. After a lifetime of being strong, of having everyone depend on you for comfort, it’s rattling to have a person give that energy back tenfold. To have somebody shape themselves into your safe space. After seeing your pain, your ugly moments, and still not turn away, but rather tell you that not only do they accept those parts of you, wholly and willingly, they want to be the person you give them to. 

Nic doesn’t pick and choose pieces of her. He asks for it all and then treats each facet with gentle care. Like every element of her is gold. Like she is gold. Rare and desired, something to treasure, something to worship. Even when she’s a mess of unexplained tears and snot. 

Olandria sighs. “Nothing happened. Not exactly.”

Nic waits patiently for her to expand.

“What I mean is nothing bad happened. I was… just really overwhelmed by something. In a good way, I think. I just wasn’t expecting it, so seeing it threw me off guard, you get me?”

Nic observes her, making sure she’s not lying, that she really is okay now. He nods slowly. “Okay. So, I don’t need to kill anyone?”

That makes her snort. “Nic, what the hell? Why would you be killing anyone?”

“Olandria, I walked into you sobbing, when you were bloody jolly the last time I saw you. I thought someone had hurt you in the ten minutes we’d been apart. Why wouldn’t I be killing someone?”

She rolls her eyes. “Dramatic ass.”

“A dramatic ass that would totally kill for you. I could snipe someone out, O, just say the word. I’d be your own personal hitman any day.”

“Baby, I’ve seen you toss a football. Your aim is kinda shit. I ain’t sure you could snipe anyone on purpose. Just be collateral damage all around everywhere.” 

Nic gasps loudly, jaw dropping. “Rude! And incorrect! My aim is fine!”

“Tell that to the cut you had on ya lip for like a week after yall played in the villa.” Olandria snarks.

Nic gasps again, somehow even louder than before. “That wasn’t my fault! That was Charlie and you know it! And I was catching the ball, not tossing, it has nothing to do with my aim!”

He sounds so truly affronted that she can’t help but burst into cackles, falling back into him as the laughter folds her body in half. It feels so good to laugh after her previous emotional episode that she lets the amusement linger, keeps tittering until she no longer can, stretching out the glee in teasing her man. Nic keeps his eyes on her through it all, grinning as if he accomplished something. 

After a bit, Nic speaks, serious once again. “Can you tell me what you saw? What caught you off guard and made you cry? Was it something here?”

Olandria takes a deep breath, gathering herself. “Yeah. I can show you. Gotta let go of me though.”

Nic frowns at that. It makes her giggle. 

Reluctantly, Nic releases his grip. Olandria turns away from him and takes a few steps back to the furniture against the wall. She sweeps her eyes over all the pictures lined up on top, sparing a second glance at the one of Nic’s graduation (she’s mildly annoyed he’s always been this damn fine, it’s just not fair), before reaching out to grab the lone gold frame. She’s hesitant when she completes the action, like if she’s too rough it’ll break, or worse, disappear from her fingers like a puff of smoke, a mirage too good to be true.

She returns to her place in front of Nic and holds the frame out to him. Nic takes it from her, his own hands just as careful as hers, and gazes at what she offered him. 

When he realizes what he’s looking at, a breathtaking smile stretches across his lips, one that makes her heart race. A smile of pure content, of adoration. It’s the kind that makes the crinkles at the corner of his eyes stand out, every line displayed on his face a show of happiness, and she wants to trace all of them with her fingertips. Wants to physically feel how blissful he looks seeing the image of them together, in his family home, memorialized. 

Nic is still smiling when he looks back to Olandria. “I love this picture. You look so pretty, O.”

Olandria lets out a bashful “Thank you,”.

Nic keeps smiling at her until his thoughts seem to catch up with him. The quirk of his mouth drops a little, lips pressing down. “But- You,” He pauses. “This made you cry?”

“Yeah. I tried not to. As you can see, that didn’t go too well…” 

Nic moves closer to her, one hand still holding the frame while he lifts the other to cup her cheek. “Baby, why would this make you cry?”

She lets herself lean into his palm. “Did you know that was here?”

Nic raises an eyebrow. “I mean, yeah. I’ve been home more than once since the reunion. You know that, and I’m pretty sure mom framed this the second I sent it to her.”

That answers that question. 

“So you’ve seen it. Here. When you were home.”

Olandria, girl, I swear to god, don’t you dare start crying again. Do not!

Nic’s eyebrow remains arched. “Again, yeah.” He goes quiet for a minute before speaking again, and this time his tone is hesitant. “Is that… Is that bad? Do you- Are you…” He bites his lip, looking more unsure than he has this entire day. “Are you uncomfortable with that? With this? With it being here?” He lifts the picture up. “Do you… Not like seeing yourself here?”

He asks the questions with so much sympathy, so much concern, trying to meet her where she’s at, trying to understand what she’s thinking, but she knows him too well. As they look at each other, she can see the little twinge of sadness in his eyes. The hurt he’s doing his best to not let her see. 

Because the deeper translation of those questions is: Are you not okay with them viewing you as someone important enough to me, to us, to display in their home? Are you not okay with being that serious? Is this too far?

Nic is confident. He’s secure in himself. They both know that. But the longer they’re together, the more Olandria realizes that Nic wants her in a way that makes him unsteady. It knocks him off balance, makes him second guess himself, makes him afraid to misstep, to lose her. He believes she’s out of his league, and the most vulnerable parts of himself at times twist that belief into a possibility that one day she’ll get sick of him and walk away. And so, sometimes, when things occur, when they have certain conversations, Nic will look like he’s bracing himself for the fall from grace— for her to decide that’s enough and end everything. For her to see a picture of them in the home of his loved ones and come to the conclusion this isn’t where she wants to be after all.

But Olandria isn’t going anywhere. She wants him, wants to be with him. And for the first time in her life, she doesn’t mind being overt in showing that to any and everybody who can see, because Nic has yet to give her anything other than complete devotion and loyalty. Therefore, affirming him every now and then, when his fears try to get the best of him, is no problem for her. 

I’m right here, Nicky. I got you. Just like you got me. 

She leans up onto her toes and kisses him. Not hard, not fast, but slow and soft. Lets their lips press and meld in a seamless rhythm. Nic melts into it, his hand dropping from her cheek to wrap his arm around her waist, bringing her closer. It makes her entire body buzz, flowing into the warmth of them, of their affection. 

She doesn’t pull away until Nic glides his tongue along her lip, seeking entrance. It pains her to do so, she’d be more than happy to continue, but they’re still in his parent’s house and she won’t disrespect it. No matter how bad she wants to. 

“O.” Nic lets out, breathy and aching, eyes still closed from their kiss. 

She gives him one more peck. She can’t help it. 

When she settles back down onto the flat of her feet, Olandria wraps her own arms around Nic’s waist. She can’t look at him when she says this, it’ll make her too nervous. So she lays her head back on his chest and speaks into his t-shirt. “It’s not bad. I’m not uncomfortable. I’m… really happy. I didn’t… I never expected to see that. To see me. I don’t know how to explain it. To know that your mom did that, that she likes me enough to do that, that your family is welcoming me like that…” She takes a deep breath. “It means so much to me. And that you knew it was here, that you would even be fine with a picture of us in your family’s home like that, I-” She cuts herself off, unable to put together the words of everything she’s feeling. “I don’t know. It made me cry. A good cry. Happy tears.” She finishes lamely. 

Nic squeezes her, tugs her even farther into him. He nuzzles his face into her hair, breathing her in. “Oh, O.”

His voice is so fond, so enamored, she thinks she might combust. That, or her heart is gonna burst out of her chest and try to lay itself at his feet. 

“They don’t just like you.” Nic keeps talking. “They love you. As they should. Everyone should love you. Honestly, that should be a rule of life: ‘Love Olandria.’”

Olandria giggles. Nic squeezes her again. 

“They consider you family, O. I consider you family. You’re… Ola, you mean so much to me.” Nic inhales deeply. “So fucking much. They know that. So of course there’s a picture of you here. Of us. You’re one of the best things that has ever happened to me. That deserves a picture.”

He shouldn’t be allowed to say things like that. He’s going to kill her via a sugar rush or something one day, he’s too damn sweet. 

Nic pulls away just enough to see her face. He waggles his eyebrows up and down, breaking the tension. “Besides, we Vansteenberghes like to show off a little. It’s a given they’re gonna hype up their son being with literal royalty.”

That makes her roll her eyes and thump him. He’s forever insisting she’s of royal caliber. She’s forever eating it up. 

“Such harsh treatment from my queen.” Nic pouts. 

Olandria just huffs a laugh and takes back the picture from him, going to put it back in its original place. Its rightful place. The picture has a rightful place here, because she has a rightful place here. With Nic. With his family. 

Sometimes she can’t believe how much her life has turned around. How blessed she is. 

Nic comes up and hugs her from behind, arms circling around her middle, chin resting on top of her head. “We look good together. Good thing too. ‘Cause I guarantee that won’t be the last picture of us she puts up.” His tone is entirely too smug and way too anticipatory.

Olandria leans back into him, hands landing on his arms, feeling so utterly adored and adoring in equal measure. 

This won’t be the last picture of them Miss Jennifer proudly frames and decorates her home with. 

Yeah. She thinks she likes the sound of that.

Chapter Text

They’re getting ready to leave when Nic pulls Olandria to the side.

So far it’s been a slightly long, rather eventful, all together good day and it’s not anywhere close to over. It hasn’t even reached late afternoon yet and this is already one of Nic’s favorite days. He imagines it’ll only keep getting better with the plans they have. However, despite how great of a time it’s been, Nic can’t get the image of Olandria in tears and trying to hide from him out of his head. 

He knows, now, that they were happy tears and that nothing is wrong, that his girl is perfectly fine. But in spite of that knowledge, the visual sticks. Most likely due to the fact the spike of adrenaline and crush of dread he’d felt when he walked in on her sobbing hasn’t quite faded. Nic has a rebound rate of near insanity, he’s able to bounce back faster than anybody he knows, but Olandria crying isn’t something one just moves on from. He’d been prepared to flip the planet over on its axis if he had to, to fix whatever was wrong. Also, if we’re being honest, further introspection has led him to discover he was way too willing to commit unspeakable acts of violence against whoever had potentially hurt her, but that’s neither here nor there. (Okay, so maybe he has a list of enemies written in the notes app of his phone, and maybe more than half of them are just people and/or things he’s considered to have smited or upset Ola, and maybe he’d find glee in delivering sweet, sweet revenge to every dash on that list, but that’s nobody else’s business. Lest he end up on a suspect list. He’s too pretty for prison. Olandria told him so.)

Anyway, in conclusion, he’s still a bit unsteady from earlier events. He’d basically glued himself to Olandria’s side the rest of the time they were with his parents. If she moved, he moved, following right behind her like there was a leash attached to him as she moved throughout the house. When they sat down he made sure his spot was next to her, hand either interlocked in hers or gripping her thigh. The way he viewed it was, if he couldn’t sniff and pick up traces of O’s perfume, then he was too far and came closer. Hell, he’d had to fight the urge to bat her hand away and feed her himself as she started trying the snacks his dad pulled out for her. He had a feeling she wouldn’t appreciate him doing that in front of his parents. Not to mention said parents would definitely never let him live that down for the rest of his life. 

He’s settled down by the time the boys get to the house, everyone gathering around as they’re set to head out on the road. Settled, but not completely calmed, a restless energy remaining inside him, rattling around. Luckily, Nic thinks he knows the solution to his frazzled nerves. So he doesn’t stop himself from gently squeezing the soft hand in his grasp, tugging on Olandria to get her attention. 

O turns away from her observation of the guys doing whatever the fuck they’re doing (being loud and overexcited) and makes eye contact with him. “Nicky?” 

“Come upstairs with me real quick.”

Olandria raises an eyebrow but doesn’t argue, nodding her head and gesturing for him to lead the way. Everyone’s too busy in their conversations and last minute preparations to notice them slipping away from the group, which Nic is grateful for. He just needs a minute with her, away from others. 

He takes Olandria up the staircase and down the hall to his room, opening the door for her and stepping in after she passes the threshold. As she looks around he closes the wood barrier, encasing them in silence. He lets his eyes roam over her for a second, taking in the sight of Ola in the space he inhabits any time he visits. It’s nice, seeing her in other pockets of his life, seeing her fit into his environment. 

I wonder if I can get her to leave something of hers here. Or maybe just get her to lay down with me for a minute. If mom doesn’t change the sheets her scent should stay on the pillows. 

After observing his quarters, Olandria looks back to him and gives him a small smile. “What you wanna come up here for, Nicky?”

“I have something for you.”

Olandria cocks her head to the side in question. “You have something for me?”

“Mhmm. A present. Kind of.”

“And you had to give me this present in the bedroom?” She sounds like she’s trying extremely hard to not sound suspicious. And failing. 

Nic grins, wide and shameless. “Get your head out of the gutter. It’s nothing like that.” He bites his lip. “Well, unless you want it to be like that.” 

Don’t judge me, you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take. 

Olandria snorts. “Damn, Nic, this morning wasn’t enough?”

“More than enough. It was wonderful. I think I actually saw god at one point.”

The dark skinned woman rolls her eyes but he can see the smirk she’s trying to hide peaking out across her mouth. She’s pleased, with herself for her performance and his rating of it, and yeah, she should be. He wasn’t kidding about the god comment.  

“But, you know, I might as well live up to what they’re saying about me.”

Ola makes a face. “What they saying ‘bout you?”

Nic winks. “Big, white, and greedy, O.”

Olandria loses it, bending in half and outright cackling. “Nic! What the hell? There is something so wrong with you.”

“They said it! And they’re right, O. I am greedy, so very, very greedy.” He lets his tone slip low into what he hopes is seduction. “And big. But you know that, don’t ya baby?”

Wink, wink.

She smacks him on the chest and it just makes him cheese even more. That unnerving energy is already lessening. 

Olandria shakes her head slowly in mock judgement. “I can’t believe you still this freaked out in your parents house.” 

“I sucked your toes on national T.V., O. Licked your foot from heel to tip. They know who I am. Who we are.”

“Nah, the fuck? What’s this “we”, white boy? Ain’t no “we”.”

Now Nic is the one raising his eyebrow. “Freak-O-Nico.” He enunciates, putting emphasis on the “O”. 

Olandria starts turning her head every which way, refusing to look at him. “Doesn’t ring a bell, sorry.”

Oh, she thinks she’s funny, huh? (She is. And cute. So cute he wants to pinch her cheeks and kiss her until his lips are swollen.) Well Nic is a comedian. “That so?”

Olandria keeps looking at any and everything other than him. “Yup. Not a single one. Not even a little ding.”

“Maybe the hickey on my hip bone will jog your memory.”

Olandria swings her gaze back to him, eyes wide as saucers, jaw dropped. “Nic!” She exclaims, horrified. 

Nic attempts an expression of complete innocence. “What? Would you prefer to see the scratches on my shoulders?”

“Nic, I swear to god-”

“No, you’re right, we should look at you instead. Let’s start with your thighs, pull your pants down-”

Olandria lunges at him, slapping her hands over his mouth. “Stop talking!” 

Nic drags his tongue across her palm. Her skin tastes good. 

Olandria doesn’t even flinch, absolutely exasperated. “I knew you would do that.”

Nic does it again. 

“Freak.” She sighs, but the word is full of so much affection it makes him buzz.

He bites her. Just a little nibble, nothing that would inflict real pain.

The hiccuped choked gasp she lets out is really not good for his sanity. He can’t be blamed for biting her again. Nic needs to hear that noise once more. A thousand times more. 

Unfortunately, Olandria doesn’t repeat it, removing her hands instead. “What am I gonna do with you, huh?”

“I have some ideas. Many ideas.”

Olandria glares. “Uh-huh. I’m sure you do.”

“Half of them don’t even require clothes! Fun, right?” Nic does spirit fingers to demonstrate how exciting his proposition truly is. 

“Overly going ass.”

“It’s a nice ass though, right?”

Olandria can’t keep in her laugh and Nic can barely recall how off he’d felt previously. “Yeah, it’s a nice ass, Nicky. My own little pancake.”

Nic gapes, utterly offended. “Hey!”

“It’s okay, Nicky. Pancakes are my favorite.” Her grin is beyond teasing and awfully mesmerizing. 

“Don’t say it like that, now I’m confused on if I love it or hate it.” Nic whines. 

Olandria laughs. “You’ll live. Now come on, boy, gimme my present.”

Oh, right! “Close your eyes.”

Olandria squints her eyes at him but when all he does is beam at her she follows directions, eyelashes brushing against her cheeks. Nic leaves a quick kiss on her knuckles before backing away from her and going to the dresser to find what he’s looking for. He spots the material and lifts his hand to the back of his neck to yank his current top off.

“Nic, I know damn well I ain’t hearing you strip right now.”

“I know, I’m sorry to deprive you from the show, baby, but we’re on a time limit here.”

“Oh, I’m so tired of you-”

Nic giggles as he clothes himself and returns to his stance in front of her. “Open your eyes, O.”

She does, those big browns taking him in and making his heart stutter. It takes her two blinks to realize what she’s staring at. And when she does, a megawatt smile breaks out across her face, stretching from ear to ear. “No you didn’t.”

He nods fast, matching her expression, excited. “I did.”

Olandria lets out an adorable little squeak, half laugh half exhale. “Nic!”

“You like it?”

Olandria bobs her head up and down. “Hell yeah I do! It’s about time!”

She brings her arm up, fingers tracing the white and orange lettering on his new t-shirt. Lettering that proudly spells out ‘Auburn’ in all caps, loudly repping her favorite college football team. He’d stumbled on it at random on one of his rare shopping trips, desperately in need of clothes. Nic saw it, immediately thought of her, and swiped his card. He’d worn it a couple times while here, but had made sure not to send her a picture, craving an in person reaction. He knew she’d love it, get a kick out of it, and wanted to see that elation face to face. It’d been well worth the wait— he’s practically feeding off her joy.

Olandria peers up at him. “You finally joinin’ the winning team, baby?”

“Technically speaking Alabama is-”

Olandria shushes him, bringing her pointer finger to his mouth. “Do not even finish that sentence, Nicolas.”

Nic speaks against her digit, lips brushing her skin. “Roll tide?”

“None of that shit.” She snaps. “Cut that mess out, stop disrespecting the shirt!”

He chuckles, grabbing her hips to drag her even closer to him.

Nic feels so incredibly light. This was just what he needed– to see Olandria laugh, to make her happy, to seamlessly lose himself in their back and forth. Any leftover uneasiness from her tears has been eradicated, replaced by the bliss of being with her. He’s got her here, in his family home, in his arms, clinging to his chest, emotional over how much he and his people cherish her, gleeful over his latest attempt to brighten her day, fussing over his next attempt to rile her up. This is his reality. It’s magnificent, sublime, fucking phenomenal. 

Maybe he really is greedy, because he can’t imagine giving any bit of his life, or her, up. 

Olandria taps his temple gently. “Say ‘war eagle’.” She demands.

“Mmm, not sure I can. The words just don’t flow off the tongue, you know?”

That pretty eye roll makes another appearance. Nic doesn’t know what it says about him that he finds it attractive. “You finna get rocked, Nic.”

“And who’s gonna do it? Hm? You?”

“Do not tempt me. You ain’t ready for that. I could take you, easy.” Olandria sasses. 

Nic bumps his eyebrows up and down, voice all types of wicked and suggestive. “I think you already have.”

“Nic! Stop being nasty!”

He keeps poking at her, thoroughly enjoying the fact that every word from each of them erases their limited distance bit by bit, basically fusing them together. His favorite way to be. (He’s never beating those wanting to be in her skin allegations but, like, whatever.)

Their banter slows down and Olandria wraps her arms around his neck. “Did you get this for me?” Her question is honeyed, almost reverent. 

“It’s possible.” He hums.

Olandria gives him a soft quirk of her lips, eyes sparkling. “You’re sweet. Thank you.”

Nic shakes his head. She has no reason to give him gratitude. “Nothing to thank me for, baby. I thought of you so I got it. Knew you’d like it.”

“I do.”

“Good.” No more crying for her today and therefore, no more mini heartbreaks for him. 

Nic links his own arms around her small waist, bringing her into a hug, sighing contentedly. Olandria runs her fingers through his hair, nails scratching his scalp. It makes him shiver and snuggle into her even more. 

“I’d like it more if you said ‘war eagle’,” O sings. 

Nic pulls a face like he’s fed up but they both see how delighted he is right now. They’re also both aware of the fact there’s almost nothing he wouldn’t do for her. “War damn eagle.”

Olandria cheers, pecking him all over– cheeks, jaw, chin, nose, forehead. Nic receives them all gladly, like he’s getting blessed. Which… he kinda is. “Perfect, Nicky! You gonna say just that on camera. I need video evidence of your conversion.” 

He doesn’t protest, doesn’t complain. He’ll repeat it for whatever camera she points at him, however many times she wants him to. Whatever she wants. Always.