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OLIVER WOULD ADMIT that he was nervous to see Timothée. This was the boy he loved more than anyone else (excluding his parents and childhood cat) in the world. He was the boy who Oliver let run away two times and both times had been hell for him and he'd be damned to let Timothée go again.
So as he left the plane, going through to get his bag, he was understandably nervous. What if Timothée wasn't there? What if Timothée was planning this huge prank on him and didn't actually love him anymore? The thoughts ran through his head he eventually grabbed his luggage and was left to look around for the Chalamet boy.
But he was more than that; more than just the name. He was everything to Oliver, he was more than a boy to him, he always everything good in the world. The sun, the color yellow, and daisies. He was that to Oliver. The Lanning boy continued to look around, scanning the airport for any sign of Timothée while he shifted around anxiously. He couldn't find him.
And then his eyes caught shaggy, brown curls that looked too similar to Timothée's. He looked to see the face and yeah, it was his Timothée. It was the boy he loved more than anything who was the color yellow and sunshine and rainbows and everything good that the world produced. And his smile grew wide as he went over to his boy, making sure not to run because it was still an airport and he could still see fans looking at them, obviously excited for their reunion. Not as much as them, though.
Once over to the boy, Oliver engulfed him in a hug wanting more than anything to kiss him but refraining. "I've missed you so much," Oliver muttered into Timothée's shoulder.
He heard the boy chuckle, holding him tightly as well, "Me too, Ollie."
They held each other for a few moments longer, just enjoying the other before pulling apart, grinning like lovesick fools to each other. "God," Timothée said, "I never wanna let you leave again."
"If I remember correctly, you were the one who left last time – right after kissing me, which was very rude by the way," Oliver commented with a chuckle.
The smile on Timothée's face grew, if that was possible. "You caught me. Now, I think I remember something about asking you a very important question. So, Oliver Rhett Lanning, would you do me the honor of –"
"Nope," Oliver cut him off, seeing the boy's face fall, "Oh, don't be like that. I'm totally gonna say yes when we get back to your apartment."
Timothée raised an eyebrow, "Why not right here?"
"Because if you ask me right here I'm gonna kiss you and then everyone's gonna see it and this should be a very private moment," Oliver explained before grabbing his luggage again, "Now come on, Timmy, we have to get going."
"Of course."
― 💎 ―
"AND HERE WE are," Timothée said as he unlocked the door to his apartment, turning the knob and letting them in.
"Huh, I'd thought it be more different," Oliver commented as he took in the setting that used to be so familiar to him, a second home, "Guess I was wrong."
"I've never been one for decorating, you know that," Timothée said before standing before him and smiling, "Now can I ask you?"
Oliver smiled back at him, "Be my guest."
"Finally. Oliver Rhett Lanning, will you do me the honor of being my boyfriend...again?" Timothée asked him, adding the last part teasingly.
The Lanning boy rolled his eyes before muttering, "yes," and then tugging at the collar of Timothée's shirt and pulling him into a kiss. It was long, euphoric, and God, how Oliver had missed Timothée's soft (he always made sure to apply chap stick) lips against his own.
"Not wasting anytime, are we?" Timothée asked him lowly as he they parted slightly.
"Not again," Oliver whispered back, "Now come on, I think your bedroom is calling. It wants us naked and on the bed."
Timothée chuckled against his lips, "You never change, Oliver, do you?" Oliver shook his head. "Never," he confirmed, "Now let's get going, boyfriend."
