Chapter 19 Nicholas #3
Were it just Nicholas and his fucking parents involved he wouldn’t care who overheard him, but he won’t hurt Andrew again, and explaining why he needed a fake boyfriend implicates him.
He can’t take that chance, so instead he remains silent, relaxing only when Andrew begins to play with his freshly buzzed undercut.
Stimming, he called it. Said it soothed him.
It soothes Nicholas too, and he drifts, eyes falling shut as Andrew’s blunt nails trace patterns over the back of his head.
Eventually, Andrew lowers his hand, but only to accept the in-flight drink.
He appears deeply pleased that it is not soda.
Andrew has apparently never flown first class, and Nicholas is already planning on where else he can take him.
Spain. Italy. The Caribbean. Anywhere with those picturesque beaches that make his princess smile.
Bonus points for a warm enough climate he might have a chance to see Andrew strip out of his polo and khakis so Nicholas can lavish him in sunshine and attention.
It’s what Andrew deserves, what Nicholas wants to give him, once this fucking trip is over.
By the time the flight attendant announces they’re going to be landing soon, Nicholas’s unease is at an all time high, kept only under wraps because he doesn’t want to agitate Andrew whose nerves about the impending meeting with his parents have finally surfaced.
“What if they don’t like me?” Andrew asks for the second time.
“Fuck them.”
“They’re your parents. You must care a little bit, or you wouldn’t be bringing me to meet them.”
There is an opening for the truth Nicholas has been avoiding.
He still cares enough that he craves even a scrap of their attention or affection; both things they’ve never seen him deserving of.
That, or they’re incapable of loving anything besides their money and social status.
Either way, their emotional neglect is something Nicholas compartmentalized and ignored until a polo wearing man with a penchant for spreadsheets burst into his life.
Andrew made him realize that despite his most fervent attempts to deny it, hidden beneath asshole behavior, Nicholas actually has feelings. Feelings which are a mess right now.
“Still fuck them. I like you, that’s all that matters.”
“It’s difficult to argue semantics with you when you say things that make me happy,” Andrew says, cheeks full of color and those beautiful brown eyes of his staring at Nicki with intensity.
“Good.” Nicholas lowers his forehead to Andrew’s, breathing him in.
“Nicki.”
“Yeah, princess?”
“Can I have—”
“You can have anything.”
Andrew’s mouth quirks up at the corner. “What if I asked for your BUGATTI?”
“It’s yours.”
Andrew scoffs like Nicholas is joking. He’d have the pink slip changed tomorrow if Andrew wanted it.
“I rather love your house.”
“That’s already yours.”
“It’s not,” Andrew laughs, clearly still under the misassumption that Nicholas is joking. “But what if I wanted something slightly less expensive, but far more precious?”
“Diamonds?”
“A kiss.”
Nicholas is rendered speechless. For all their touching, all their intimacy, this is one thing they haven’t shared. They were close a few times, but with Andrew’s illness and then the stress of packing, Nicholas wasn’t going to push, even though he suspected it might be coming.
His Andrew is a gentle creature, and Nicholas has learned to let him come to him when he’s ready.
“Princess, you can have all the fucking kisses you want.”
“Alright,” Andrew whispers before closing the distance and finally, fucking finally, pressing those pretty lips of his against Nicholas’s. He tastes like dark chocolate and red wine, like luxury and home, and Nicholas growls into the kiss, tangling his fingers in Andrew’s hair to deepen it.
Clearly, Nicholas did something good in a past life because Andrew lets him, slipping his tongue into Nicholas’s mouth and making Nicholas rock hard at thirty thousand feet.
It’s on the tip of Nicholas’s tongue to beg Andrew to get into his lap and continue whatever magic it is he’s doing with his mouth when the flight attendants make the final call to prepare for landing.
“Fuck,” Nicholas pants, leaning back in his seat with a hard on and a happy heart.
Andrew says nothing, but the quiet way he exhales and the color on his cheeks lets Nicholas know he’s not the only one affected.
The flight attendant makes an announcement about buckling their seatbelts, but before Andrew can do his own, Nicholas pushes his hands away, securing Andrew’s seatbelt. The surprised smile Andrew gives him affirms Nicholas’s commitment to protect and worship this man every damn day of their lives.
“I uh…I like kissing,” Andrew quietly admits. His hands are in his lap, fingers tapping against his left palm. “I wasn’t ready before, I’m sorry.”
“No apologizing,” Nicholas reminds him, reaching for his hand as the plane begins its descent.
There’s a swooping sensation in his chest that Nicholas knows has nothing to do with their rapidly changing elevation. Giving Andrew’s hand a gentle squeeze, he pulls it against his chest and breathes in slowly and deeply, hoping he isn’t making a huge mistake bringing Andrew to New York.