soft baby tom

So, you mutter to yourself “fuck it, I’m going in,” and sneak inside the bathroom while he’s still in the shower. The second you stick your head through the door, you’re instantly greeted with the smell of his shower gel and a wave of hot steam coming from the shower. After a few seconds of adjusting to the new environment, you make your way over to the sink-area to collect your makeup bag, along with all the loose items scattered across the counters next to the sink, where you usually do your makeup. Most of the time you’re in either too much of a hurry or simply too lazy to put all the products back into the bag, where they belong. So, you just leave them out to easily use them again the next morning without having the trouble of rummaging around to find them.

It’s safe to say that Tom is often annoyed with the situation of all those items flying around the bathroom counters, but he never really gives you shit about it, either. He just shoves them all to the side, whenever he needs the space or is looking for something in particular. Over the past few years, you’ve come to know he’s a slightly more organized person than you are and that he likes everything to be neat and in its right place. You, however, find it more practical to have them at arm’s length whenever you need them. 

In that moment, you realize that Tom didn’t notice you coming in, as you can hear him starting to sing. His sweet, velvet-like voice fills the hot, steamy air like a soft breeze at the beach on a hot summer day. You stand there in awe of his beautiful voice and close your eyes to drown out everything that could be distracting your senses and just enjoy the rare occasion of hearing him sing. He’s usually very self-conscious about his singing - even though you’ve told him multiple times that there really is not a single reason to be - so, with that in mind, you just know he’s completely unaware of your presence right now. You listen closer and start to recognize the song he’s singing. 

… And I can be needy

Way too damn needy

I can be needy

Tell me how good it feels to be needed … 

For a second there, you contemplate whether or not doing your makeup in the bathroom while Tom is showering is a good idea, but looking at the bathroom mirror completely fogged up, you soon decide to move the whole procedure to the living room. You look over your shoulder one last time to maybe catch a glimpse of his cute butt, but even the shower screens are fogged up to the point that it looks like they’re actually made of frosted glass. With a pout on your face and a chuckle under your breath, you turn on your heel and strut to the living room, your collected items shoved under your arms. 

That’s pretty much the best place to work on your makeup, mainly because it has the best light, due to the massive window front. Sitting down on the floor with your legs crossed, you set the small stand-up mirror that you carried from the bathroom along with everything else on the coffee table, then twist your hair into a messy bun on the top of your head to get it out of the way. You study your reflection to look for any particular unwanted spots you may need to cover up. The silence seems unbearable as you work, so you pull your phone out of the right pocket of your joggers and open your favorite playlist to keep it playing in the background.

To start off your daily makeup routine, you cleanse your face with a cotton pad and some toner, rubbing it across your face to get rid of anything that might have accumulated over night. Afterwards, you take out your eye cream and moisturizer to prep your face for the layers you’re about to put on. In that moment, you hear the bathroom door opening and Tom walking down the hallway towards you and the sound of your music. 

As he walks around the corner, you see him shaking his bum and swaying his hips to the beat of the song that fills the air, wearing only the jeans he is apparently intending on wearing for dinner and the towel he used to dry himself off, wrapped around his neck, both edges falling on his bare chest. You are once again thankful that your taste in music is similar to his, almost the same, even. You can’t imagine yourself being in a relationship with someone with a completely different taste in music, at least if they hated everything you ever put on. 

A big smile starts to spread across your face seeing him like this. Remembering his little singing performance in the shower, your mind comes up with a devious plan to tease him a bit.

Keeping as much of a straight face as possible, you turn on needy by Ariana Grande - the song he was singing in the shower earlier - to test his reaction. At first, he looks confused, as if he's taken aback by the sudden change in tempo, stopping his movements mid-dance. He stands there frozen for a second and you realize that he might not have known the song he was singing. He must have probably heard you sing it to yourself, absentmindedly, a few times. 

Collecting himself, he closes the small distance in between the two of you and sits down in the armchair across the coffee table. You feel his eyes on you as you proceed to put on your concealer.

“What did you just put on your face?” he asks completely out of the blue.

While buffing it in, you answer in a nonchalant tone, “It’s called concealer.” 

“And what is it for?”

“Darling, it’s literally in the name. It conceals everything that needs to be concealed. Imperfections like dark undereye circles and blemishes and all that.” In a cheeky tone, you add, “You see, your silly shenanigans last night are pretty much to blame for these dark circles in the first pl-”

“Wait, what is this song again?” he interrupts you, one hand raised with his index finger pointing up.

You look up from the mirror and flash him your brightest smile, raising one eyebrow in an attempt to look mischievous as you answer, “Why, do you like it?” 

“Yeah, I mean, I think so. It was stuck in my head the whole day, but I couldn’t remember where the fuck I heard...” Tom tilts his head and squints as if the pieces are falling together inside his head. “Oh fuck, hold on, were you listening to me singing in the shower?” he asks, his fist raised at the height of his shoulder, thumb pointing backwards.

To be fair, he should have been on to you the second you changed the song. Truth is, you're constantly trying to prank each other in some way or the other, always quick to call one another out on little things like that.

You can see a blush growing on his cheeks immediately. In a heartbeat, you get up from the floor and make your way over to the armchair he's sitting in. Cupping his face with both hands, you settle on his lap and look straight into his chocolate-like eyes.

“Listen, babe. I’ve told you once and I’ll tell you a million times again, if I have to. Don’t. Be. Embarrassed. About. Your. Singing. In front of me or anyone else. I love you, I love your voice and I love your singing. I love your snores, your grumbles in the morning when you’re still sleep-drunk and your mumbled monologues when you’re asleep. I could listen to all of it, all day and all night.” 

To emphasize what you just said, you press your lips onto his, for a little peck, and you can feel him relax into your touch instantly as he brings his hands around your waist to pull you closer and prolong the kiss a bit more. He never seems quite satisfied by a mere peck on the lips. Before the kiss gets too heated, though, you pull away quickly, leaving Tom with a serious pout on his mouth. He looks like a puppy who's been denied belly rubs or his favorite toy right now, which is endearing on the one hand, but extremely annoying how it gets to you almost every time. 

“Now, I really need to finish my makeup, otherwise we’re going to be late,” you say while attempting to get up from his lap, but he holds you by your hips and pulls you back down. 

“What the—” you want to ask, but he shuts you right up by capturing your lips with his, holding your face in between his hands. After a passionate kiss, he holds you close to his face, foreheads touching.

With a serious look in his eyes, he practically whispers, “I love you, too. More than you know and more than I’ll ever be able to verbalize.” Shrugging, Tom adds, “Just needed to say that.”

You feel your face heating up at his words, always so flattering despite being so simple, then you breathe out, “I’m glad you did. Good talk. If you would excuse me, now?” 

Tom raises his hands on either side of you in a surrendering movement, letting you finally get up from his lap so you can finish your makeup.

After asking a few more questions about the products you’re using, Tom stands up from the armchair and struts into your shared bedroom to put on the rest of his outfit for the evening. Just as he walks out, fully dressed and looking dashing as always, you finish your look by adding some setting spray. Don’t want to look cakey halfway through the evening.

“Okay, I think I’m good to go,” Tom huffs half-amusedly, eyes studying your whole face with a longing expression. “Wow. You look— wow.”

“I love how eloquent you can be, gorgeous.” You laugh, watching through the corner of your eye as he pouts at you in that almost-adult-like way of his. “Someone’s extremely needy today, hm?” you add, getting up from the floor and pulling him into you by a hand so you can place a flimsy kiss on his lips. “C’mon, let me put on some clothes so we can leave.”

*

When you come home later that night, you head straight for the bathroom to take care of your night routine. As much as you enjoy doing your makeup and the way it makes you feel more confident when you wear it, there is no better feeling than taking it off again at the end of the day.

You stand in front of the mirror, humming, taking it all off, feeling eyes in the back of your head. Looking over your shoulder through the mirror, you can see Tom standing by the door frame, already in his sweats, naked from the waist up, ready for bed, with the most doe-like eyes you’ve ever seen on him.

“What now?” you ask, grabbing the several makeup wipes and cotton pads you used to throw them in the bin beneath the sink. 

“Nothing,” he says shaking his head and grinning. “Figured I’d watch you doing that, too.  A full circle kind of thing, y’know?”

“You’re ridiculous,” you say with a short huff. Next, you reach for your moisturizer and start applying it for the night. That’s actually your favorite part about the whole routine; feeling it sink into your skin, smelling the familiar scent because you’ve used the same one for so long that it always makes you sleepier, just from smelling it.  

Lifting a hand up to his chest as though he’s offended, Tom gapes at you in the mirror before he turns around to leave for the bedroom. “You know where to find me,” he says over his shoulder, almost bumping into the doorframe on his way out, causing you to snort out a small laugh. 

You finish off as quick as you can, shoving everything into the cabinet next to the mirror haphazardly so you can join him in bed while he’s still awake.

You find him lying on his side under the duvet, humming to himself a sweet melody you think you know from somewhere, but you can’t quite put your finger on it. So, you just slide under the covers yourself, snuggling up to him immediately. His arms come around your body by sheer instinct, too. There’s a long shared gaze into each other’s half-closed eyes, pinky fingers intertwined in between your heads, before Tom takes a breath in.

Before you know what’s happening, he starts singing.

I'm so in love with you

And I hope you know

Darling, your love is more than worth its weight in gold

We've come so far my dear

Look how we've grown

And I wanna stay with you until we're grey and old

Just say you won't let go

You’re pretty much in shock, unable to form any coherent thoughts, let alone to find any words adequate enough to tell him. Simply staring at him with wide eyes, feeling a subtle prickling in the corner, mouth agape at the massive vote of confidence he’s offering you right now, you listen to him in silence. He's rarely comfortable enough to sing in front of you, and the fact that he’s doing it right now sends a warm, tingling sensation to the pit of your stomach and tugs delicately at your heart. You’re still too stunned by his voice and everything he makes you feel that you cannot stop staring at him. Even if you were able to form a logical sentence, you wouldn’t trust your voice to be anything more than a croaky whisper. 

Just as Tom opens his eyes again to look at you, a single tear runs down your cheek, falling onto the pillow. You feel his thumb brushing a second tear away before it falls, the words seeping carefully through his melodic tone, and with a deep sigh, you realize what he's singing.

"That song," you say, and you were right; it's nothing more than a raspy murmur. "It played at the restaurant on our first date, didn't it?"

“It did, princess. And you still look just as beautiful as you did that night. You know, I can’t ever take my eyes off of you,” he mutters softly, his warm words hitting your face and reaching your heart. “You’re just stunning - with and without makeup. You don’t even have to try. I just hope I’ll have the chance to look at that beautiful face for the rest of my goddamned life.”

You feel more tears stinging in your eyes and a lump building up in your throat, but you fight against them to pull off a smile and breathe out, “Always and forever... Promise?”

“Promise.”

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A/N: I’m so happy the teaser did considerably great and I hope you also like the whole thing. Feedback is appreciated and encouraged. Thank you so much for reading! i love you.

tagging some mutuals / friends and everyone who reblogged the teaser. Crossed out means I can’t tag you.