Hey ho! Another terrible fanfiction written by me. Rated for makeouts 'n stuff.

"This place is pretty swanky!" Stella announced, nodding her approval as she came out of the washroom, having finished her inspection of the band's hotel suite near Madison Square Gardens.

"There's totally like six different kinds of soap in here," Charlie agreed, leaning out of the other washroom. The suite had a pretty good-sized sitting room in the centre, with a bedroom on either end. At the back wall, there were two bathrooms.

Each bedroom had one king-sized bed and a pull-out sofa, so the girls claimed one room and the guys got the other. The sitting room contained a big couch, a couple of arm chairs, a coffee table, and a TV.

Stella and Charlie joined Olivia and Wendell on the couch, Stella cracking open a lemonade and reaching across Wen's lap for the TV remote. She started flipping channels, disregarding the others every time they told her to slow down or mentioned that they'd seen something they could watch. She grinned as their irritation grew.

Scott was in the girls' room, helping Mo unpack and trying to talk to her. Their rekindled relationship had been strained, and Scott had difficulty sometimes getting used to the new, more independent Mo.

Only when Stella had surfed through all of the hundred or so channels available on the hotel TV did she settle on some action flick they could all agree to watch. Charlie hopped up from his seat and disappeared into his room for a moment, re-emerging with a couple bags of chips he'd bought in the hotel shop that afternoon. Wen and Stella cheered him as he opened the bags up and passed them around.

Eventually Mo and Scott came out to join them, appearing to have made peace for the time being. They crammed themselves into one of the oversized armchairs together. Scott noticed Charlie watching them, but when he met the drummer's gaze, the latter smiled a bit and nodded respectfully. Scott nodded back, appreciative, and they both returned their attention to the movie.

The movie's sequel was playing right after, and with another round of lemonade, the group agreed to watch it. Olivia, crammed in at the left end of the plush couch, let herself relax against Wen's side. At the opposite end of the sofa, Charlie and Stella cheered and high-fived every time the hero performed a particularly exciting stunt.

Wen smiled down at Olivia where she was melting into his side. "Sleepy?" he asked in a low voice.

Olivia grinned sheepishly and began to straighten. "Sorry. I'm not usually up this late," she quietly replied.

"No, no, don't worry about it," he assured her, reaching up to pat his shoulder. "I am here to be dozed on. My shoulder is your pillow."

She bit back a big smile. "All right. Thanks." Embarrassed now, but grateful, Olivia leaned into him once again. Wen nodded and looked back to the TV.

It was nearly midnight when the second movie ended, and the band had plans for eleven the next morning, so they said their goodnights and headed for bed.

Forty-five minutes later, Olivia rolled over in the pull-out cot and sighed. Mo and Stella had fallen asleep pretty much instantly, and Stella snored like nobody's business. It wasn't the snoring that was bothering Olivia, though; it was the uncomfortable mattress she was trying to sleep on. It was stiff and flat, and somewhere under her thighs was a significant lump.

She sighed, gathered the blanket around her shoulders, and tiptoed around the larger bed to open the bedroom door. She closed it carefully behind her, starting when she turned into the sitting room and found it occupied.

Wen looked up from the TV, surprised to hear movement. "Oh, hey," he said softly when he saw it was Olivia.

"Um, hey," she answered uncertainly, waddling towards the couch in a bundle of pyjamas and blanket.

"What brings you out of bed at this hour?" he asked, smiling lazily and motioning for her to take a seat beside him.

She sat down and pulled her legs up into her makeshift cocoon. "I couldn't sleep. I just couldn't get comfortable on that pull-out bed. I thought maybe I'd come out and try the couch. What about you?"

He shrugged, and the red housecoat draped over his shoulders fell away. He wore only a loose white t-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts as pyjamas. "Couldn't sleep either, but for me it's just a combination of still being a bit pumped from the show, and the fact that I'm usually up later than this anyway." He smiled. "But I can go back to bed if you want. Let you have the couch."

Olivia hesitated, then shook her head. She didn't really want Wen to leave. "No, you can stay out here if you want. What are you watching?"

He chuckled. "Horror movies, of course. I don't watch a lot of these at home. Don't wanna freak Georgie out. I can change it though, if you want."

Olivia shook her head again. "I think I'll be fine, as long as I have a strong, friendly ginger to protect me," she answered. Fatigue had loosened her tongue, but in the bluish glow from the television it was hard to see that she was blushing. Wen only laughed.

"I can handle that," he said. Then he rearranged a bit and patted his chest and shoulder once again. "As always, feel free to sleep on me."

Olivia bit her lip, then decided that she was too tired to overthink right now and simply curled up against his side, dragging the blanket with her. He grabbed the edge of it and pulled it across his chest and legs, and so there was very little between them as she lay against him, one arm splayed across his torso. He let his own arm flop across her back, and his other hand rested on his abdomen, close to her elbow.

The movie Wendell had flipped into was the kind that liked to startle its viewers ever so often, and the first time it did Olivia gasped audibly and sank back into the couch and Wen's side. He didn't look at her, but the hand he was resting on her back drifted up to her shoulder, and every time something scared her, he gave her a reassuring squeeze. Late in the film, the mother had become possessed by a demon, and her young son – the main character – was trying desperately to communicate with her, scared and unable to understand what was really happening. Olivia bit her lip hard, but after a few moments she dove under the blanket, unable to watch.

"Olivi-?" Wen began to ask, then stopped, tensing. "Oh, shit," he said. He grabbed for the remote and hurriedly turned the TV off, rubbing her shoulder. "Shit. I'm so sorry, Olivia. I should've – I knew that was coming, too. I'm sorry, I just, it's two in the morning, and I wasn't thinking about it, and… Shit, I'm so sorry."

Olivia tried to wipe the tears from her face, rising back out from under the blanket. The room was now lit only by the dim light from the nightlights in the bathrooms. Wen was looking at her with concern and guilt.

"It's okay," she tried to assure him. "It's okay, I'm just too sensitive sometimes. I can't expect you guys to always skirt away from anything that might… remind me."

Wen frowned, sitting up to face her as she did the same. "Of course you can," he told her. "Always. Especially me. I don't ever want to hurt you, Olivia."

She looked at him, breathing deeply in an attempt to calm down. "You're always so good to me, Wen," she said in a small voice.

His expression softened, and he gave her the tiniest smile. "Well, yeah, it's no more than you deserve."

She gave an odd little laugh, somehow a sob at the same time, and wiped her eyes again, smiling at him. "Why do you do that?"

"Aw, Liv," he answered, drooping slightly as he sighed. He reached up to put his hand on her bare arm, his thumb brushing in circles against her skin. Still smiling, he said, "I thought it was kind of obvious. You know I wouldn't hand-deliver carefully chosen kittens to just anyone."

Olivia's stomach was flipping in response to his touch. "Wen…" she murmured, but she'd lost her train of thought. She looked up from his hand on her arm to the gentle smile on his face.

Suddenly he chuckled at himself, looking away for a moment. "Wow, you're beautiful," he said, almost as if he were merely talking to himself.

Her stomach fluttered anew. "You… you think I'm…?"

Wen smiled at her again. "Oh, come on, Olivia, you've been cute since like, the fifth grade. We just never talked much before this year."

Olivia bit back an enormous, hopeful grin. "Wow," she breathed.

Suddenly Wen was moving closer, leaning towards her, and then he was kissing her. Her thoughts scattered. He pulled away, smiling, but she could see nervousness in his eyes as well. "I love you, Olivia," he sighed suddenly, and her spirits soared, but for a moment she was too stunned to respond. Finally she managed to find her voice again.

"I love you, too, Wendell," she said, almost giddily, and in the dim light she saw his eyes brighten as a huge smile spread across his face.

He leaned in to kiss her again, and again, and then her arms found their way around his neck, and his around her waist, pulling her closer. His lips parted slightly, and, stomach full of butterflies, she followed his lead and allowed him access to her mouth. He turned slightly to sink back against the backrest of the couch, pulling her across him until she straddled his lap. They barely ever pulled away from another, because it was late at night and they were high on the adrenaline of a concert followed by their discovered feelings and they were alone and in love.

Olivia's hand slid down Wen's chest and rested against his abs, and she found herself wishing she could see him without the t-shirt on. Wendell's own hands ran up and down the back of her thin tank top and then to her stomach, skimming upward to quickly cop a feel at her chest. She gasped, and he smiled against her lips before returning his hands to her back, then down to rest under her bum and pull her closer against him.

Olivia had her hands on his strong shoulders when she became suddenly aware of the rising pressure beneath her. She felt a ripple of excitement and heat tear through her body from between her hips. Feeling daring, she lowered her hands to his stomach and let her fingertips graze the waistband of his shorts before grinding her hips lightly against him. This time it was Wen who broke their kiss, his breath hitching.

Wen chuckled, sounding almost frustrated. "Oh, that's distracting," he said quietly, but he placed his hands firmly on her hips and pushed her away slightly, screwing his eyes tightly shut before opening them again to meet her questioning gaze. "But we should probably slow down." He smiled apologetically.

Olivia bit her lip. "Was that too much?" she asked self-consciously.

"Definitely not," Wen answered, lifting his eyebrows as he leaned into her neck and kissed the soft skin where it met her shoulder. "But we're just, you know…" He inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of her, before tipping his head back and looking her in the eyes. He put one hand on the back of her head and pulled her in to lean her forehead against his. "We're in a hotel room with our friends asleep on either side, and I wanna do this right. You mean too much for me not to make this absolutely perfect, for the both of us."

Olivia tried and failed to bite back a huge smile. "Wen, I love you," she told him again, and he smiled and kissed her soundly.

"I love you too," Wen responded as they pulled apart. Unable to stop smiling, Olivia buried her head in his shoulder. He pulled her as close as he possibly could and held her tightly, sighing with contentment the likes of which he had probably never felt before.

After a while, the two of them, quite tired, changed their position to lay across the couch, front to front and snuggled into one another, Olivia's blanket and Wen's housecoat both spread across them to keep them warm. They soon fell fast asleep, Olivia snuggled close against Wen's chest and his arms wrapped securely around her.

They were woken around nine the next morning by a loudly-cheering Stella and a squealing Mo. The noise brought Scott and Charlie, bleary-eyed and confused, into the sitting room as well. Olivia, blushing brightly, slid right off the couch and stumbled to her feet. Amused, but slightly irritated with the way he'd been roused, Wen followed suit, lacing his fingers into Olivia's as he stood.

"Nothing happened!" Olivia stammered, flustered.

"Really? Nothing?" Stella asked, lifting a skeptical eyebrow and looking pointedly at the couple's joined hands.

"A-almost nothing," Olivia amended. Mo nearly shrieked with joy, and Scott and Charlie began to laugh.

Olivia glanced up at Wen and flushed ever more deeply.

"We have to get dressed for breakfast," Stella pointed out. She gave Olivia a meaningful look and jerked her head back toward the girls' room. Lowering her voice – although not so far that it stopped the guys from hearing – she added, "You're telling us everything before we come back out of that room." She and Mo turned and headed back.

At the opposite end of the sitting room, from near the guys' bedroom door, Charlie said to Wen, "C'mon, dude, hurry up. I'm hungry."

Before following Mo and Stella, Olivia turned back to Wen, an embarrassed smile on her face. She stretched up on her toes, and he snuck a kiss before she could speak. Then she leaned close to his ear and murmured, still blushing, "You are even hotter than usual when you've just gotten up."

He grinned and scooped his arms around her waist, pulling her up for one more kiss. "Thank you, my dear," he answered with a goofy grin before letting her go. She bit her lip, and he tapped her nose before turning to grab his housecoat off the couch and sauntering lazily back to Scott and Charlie, who were still waiting for him. Scott clapped him on the back, and Charlie offered him a fist bump. Each of them was grinning widely. Wen glanced over his shoulder and smiled at Olivia before the door shut behind him.

"You coming?" Came Mo's voice from behind her. Olivia turned and saw her two friends hanging out the bedroom door, waiting for her. Running a hand through her hair and smiling uncontrollably, Olivia nodded and strode back toward them.