#madmadsummer

“I told you to leave,” he growled, finally looking up at you. His russet eyes looked almost black, flashing with emotion, but you knew it wasn’t directed at you. You didn’t respond, looking back down as you reached out for his fists. Tom stiffened at your grasp, but didn’t pull away.

“What happened?” you questioned, focused on undoing his wraps. “Tommy?”

“Kyle Cox happened.” You stilled your movements for a moment, looking up at Tom with a confused expression.

“Kyle? My ex?”

“Yeah, he just showed up to the bar, talking all kinds of bullshit about how you belong with him. He said he regrets breaking up with you.”

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, much to Tom’s dismay, “Was he drunk off his face? Sounds like Kyle, honestly.”

“Haz had to hold me back. I wanted to bash his skull in.” You hummed, finally pulling the wrap off Tom’s fist, narrowing your eyes at his split knuckles.

“Jeez, did you punch a wall or something? Gosh, Tommy, you have to be more careful.” Tom groaned at your lecture, shaking his fist out of your grip.

“Don’t avoid the topic, Y/N.”

You glared at him, reaching out to grab his fist once again, “You’re bleeding, Tom. Let me help you.” He held your challenging gaze for another moment, but eventually sighed and gave in, letting you inspect his knuckles. “Besides, what else can I say? Kyle was an asshole. I can’t really change him, can I?”

“Why’d you date a prick?”

You scoffed, “Didn’t really know he was an asshole back then, Tom. Why are you even worried about this?” He didn’t respond, letting you walk past him to grab the first aid kit. “I wish I dumped him.”

Tom let out a hiss of pain as you pressed a towel on his knuckles to clean them, and you sent him an apologetic look.

“He’s a dickhead, and you didn’t deserve that,” he growled, softly.

You couldn’t help but smile as you bandaged his hand. It warmed your heart to see how concerned he was about your past.

“Mhm, you’re right. I was too good for him, wasn’t I?” Tom nodded. “But, I’ve got you now. And you are perfect.”

You didn’t miss the rosy flush that spread over Tom’s cheeks and the way the tips of his ears turned bright red at your comment. He was insecure and you hated that. Everything about Tom was perfect to you and you hated that he didn’t see himself like you saw him.

“What if I’m just like him?”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at Tom, “you’re like the opposite of Kyle, babe. You’re everything I could ever want.” You reached for Tom’s other fist, beginning to undo the bloody wraps.

Tom didn’t respond right away, opting to just admire you. He loved the way your brows scrunched up as you tended to his split knuckles, eyes focused and careful. And all Tom wanted was to be good enough. He wanted to give you everything you deserve and more.

You glanced up at Tom as you finished applying the last bandages, sensing his discomfort. He expected you to let go of his fists, but you just gripped them tighter and looked up at him.

“Tom, I love you. And nothing’s gonna change that,” you smiled softly, watching his face brighten again.

“I love you too, darling.” Your smile stretched wider as you played with Tom’s fingers absentmindedly. You spread them out with your own, looking down at the significant size difference between your hands. His hands looked much bigger compared to your tiny ones.

“Your hands are so much bigger than mine,” you sighed contently, looking back up at Tom, who was smiling at you. His eyes were still filled with emotion, but they were much warmer than before. “Tommy?”

“Mhm?”

“Stop staring at me like that, weirdo.”

You were done with the heat. It was 104 degrees outside and even though the tower was fully air conditioned you could still feel it. The sweat dripping down your back and arms was making your skin unbearably sticky and all you wanted to do was dump a bucket of ice down your tank top.

While being a quick way to cool down, it was also very messy; and knowing you, you would probably slip on the inevitable puddle of water that would be on the floor. So instead, you rummaged through a few of your drawers until you found your favorite black bikini. Shedding your clothes, you put it on and threw a short dress over it so you wouldn’t be walking through the tower in practically just your underwear.

Once out of your room, you made your way through the empty sitting room to get to the elevator. Most of the team were out on a mission, and it was just you, Bruce, and Bucky in the tower. You were hoping that this meant that you would get the pool all to yourself since Dr. Banner was probably down in his lab, and you didn’t actually know if Bucky’s arm was waterproof. Knowing Shuri though, it probably was.

You wouldn’t really mind if Bucky was at the pool. The two of you had been getting closer since most nights you were the reason he slept for more than 3 hours at a time. You were able to manipulate a person’s mind in any way you wanted. You offered to help Bucky with his nightmares after you found him in the kitchen at three in the morning for the fourth night in a row. These days, every night before bed you would go into to Bucky’s room to block out the nightmares. It would take you around half an hour but sometimes you would get to talking and before you knew it you had been sitting in his bed with him for hours. This lead to you developing an embarrassingly large crush on him.

The elevator dinged, awakening you from your thoughts and letting you know you had made it to the fitness floor of the Avengers Tower. You walk through the doors to the room with the pool in it and you see that Bucky had the same idea you did to beat the heat. He was in the pool swimming laps and you could see his back muscles rippling through the water from across the room. Just as you’re setting your bag down on one of the lounge chairs, Bucky spots you and swims over, leaning half of his body out of the water. Dirty thoughts run through your head but you push them to the side as Bucky begins to talk.

“Y/N! I thought you were on the mission with everyone else?” He asks.

“Nope, they didn’t really need me for this one so I decided to stay here and relax for a while but this heatwave is killing me.” You reply while joining Bucky in the water. “This is so much better than my bedroom, it was like a sauna in there.”

“Hey, you wanna race?” He suggests with a glint in his eyes that you only see when he’s talking about his time with Steve in the 40s before the war.

“You’re on old man,” you tease already taking off. “Try and catch me if you can!”

“You’re gonna regret that Y/N!” He replies before diving behind you.

You spent the rest of the day like this, messing around in the pool, free of any and all responsibilities. It was getting late though, so the two of you decided to go up to the kitchen to grab some dinner and then watch a movie before bed.

“Let’s go up to our rooms, get changed, and then meet down in the kitchen to get snacks together,” you suggest on the walk to the elevator that would take you up to the section of the tower where you and the other Avengers spent most of your time.

“Sounds like a plan. See you in a few minutes,” returns Bucky as you both step out of the elevator onto the living floor.

After changing into your favorite pajama shorts and tank top you go down to the kitchen and see that Bucky beat you down. He’s standing with his back to you, wearing only a pair of light grey sweatpants, his wet hair pulled back into a low bun. Again you feel yourself melting but this time it isn’t because of the heat.

“Hey Buck,” you call from the kitchen entrance.

“Doll, can you come over here and help me microwave this popcorn? I can’t seem to figure it out.” He asks while fiddling with the little plastic packet.

“Yeah of course, it’s probably not too good of an idea to get your metal arm too close to the microwave anyway. We don’t want to blow up the kitchen.” You take the popcorn from Bucky and start up the microwave while he goes through the cabinets and pulls out a variety of different types of candy for you guys to eat during the movie.

“We’re gonna have to work out extra hard tomorrow morning to make up for all this sugar we’re eating doll.”

“Come on Buck,” you whine. “With all the exercise we did in the pool today I think we deserve a break.” You’re still very aware that you have a half naked Bucky standing in front of you. At the pool it was easier to forget since you had the water to distract you, but now it was all you could think about.

Together you walk towards the screening room where you let Bucky pick the movie. ‘Would it kill you to put a shirt on?’ You think to yourself while getting settled on the couch.

“Why Y/N? Am I distracting you?” He quips with a smirk

“Shit. Did I say that out loud?”

“Yeah Doll, you did, but seriously am I distracting you?”

You know he’s teasing you but instead of teasing back, all of your feelings decide to spill out of your mouth in possibly the most embarrassing word vomit ever.

“Yes Bucky you are distracting me because for some reason you feel the need to walk around half naked when I know you have a closet full of perfectly good shirts up in your room. You distract me all the fucking time whether you try or not and I hate it because I like you so fucking much but you don’t see me like that and I don’t want to ruin anything even though I probably just did so if you need me I will probably be drowning myself in the Pacific Ocean which isn’t even close by so like good luck getting to me!” You blurt out before jumping off the couch, turning on your heels and running out of the room.

Unfortunately, or fortunately as you think later, Bucky being the super soldier he was, caught up to you in the kitchen and grabbed your arm turning you around to face him. Before you can say anything he lifts your face up in his hands and kisses you like he’s been drowning and you were his only source of oxygen. Melting into the kiss, you pull his long hair out of the bun and run your fingers through it while he lifts you up onto the counter while never removing his lips from yours. Weeks of sexual tension had been leading up to this one moment and it was just as satisfying and passionate as you both expected it to be.

You’re the one who ultimately breaks the kiss, needing to come up for air, but you don’t move too far, resting your forehead against his so your lips are just barely touching.

“Hi,” he whispers

“Hey,” you whisper back

“I really like you too by the way. Didn’t know if you could tell,” he says referring to what was probably the best kiss you’ve ever had.

“Bucky?”

“Yeah Y/N?”

“What happens now?”

“I ask you on a date. You say yes. I ask you to be my girlfriend. You also say yes. Then one day I ask you to marry me and we make a bunch of little Buckys and Y/Ns and live happily ever after.”

“How about we just start with that date for now,” you giggle into his lips, leaning in for another kiss that he happily returns.

You muster up all the strength you have in your hangover-weakened body and stumble to your feet, flinging off the jacket that you don’t remember covering yourself with. It’s one of Tom’s, the scent of his cologne lingering in the air as you scowl at the offending article. “Ohh, I’m gonna kill him” you whisper to yourself, before turning on your heel and marching into the open French doors.

If it were at all possible, the house is in an even worse state than the garden. Empty cans and glasses litter every surface, the bins overflowing onto the floor. You step over a crushed pizza box as you venture through the living room, grateful at least for the lack of partygoers overstaying their welcome. The only person you want to see should be around here somewhere, and you feel a rush of vindictive adrenalin as you finally spot his familiar form sprawled out on the sofa.

He’s fast asleep, one arm tucked behind his head as the other clutches a cushion to his bare chest. His hair is tousled with sleep, the curls artfully messy as a serene smile lights up his face.

Oh, that face.

Even amidst your anger you have to admit that Tom is incredibly lovely to look at, though you’d never admit that to him. He was confident, charismatic, smart, and of course, cheeky, a potent combination that charmed everyone he met – especially the girls. It had worked on you at first, when you’d met him five years ago. You’d answered an ad looking for a roommate, and ended up sharing an apartment with the man himself a week later. Though he seemed too good to be true at first, spending more time with him than anyone else was a good antidote to his charms; people come off their pedestal pretty quickly when you’re intimately familiar with their questionable habits.

What you ended up with, though, was a best friend who was always there for you when you needed him. Feeling under the weather? Tom knew exactly which brand of ice cream could make it all better. Tough day at work? He had your favourite movie queued up before you even stepped through the door. It worked both ways too, with you supporting him through the ups and downs of his career. Living together had come very naturally, and you aren’t afraid to admit that it had been rough when he’d moved out of town three months ago. Even now, you really miss that cheeky smile every time you come home.

What you don’t miss, however, is his infuriating habit of turning your old apartment into a raging party at a moment’s notice. Tom is a deeply sociable guy, which you appreciate, but you never appreciated the industrial cleaning operation the next day. This had been one of your objections when, on being told about your housesitting job, Tom had insisted on throwing a party for old time’s sake. In your hungover haze you’re not sure exactly what compelled you to agree, but then again, Tom always knew how to get you onside.

“Come on, sweetheart, look at this place. It was built for parties, and not throwing one would be a tragic waste of its potential”

Tom glanced at you with a raised eyebrow, undeterred by your disdainful stare. You should’ve known better than to invite him here, of course he’d take one look at the place and have one thing only on his mind. It had been weeks since you’d seen him, though, and all you wanted was a good night in with your best friend. “I’ve already said no, Tom, please stop asking. I was thinking more along the lines of takeout and a movie, but if you have better things to do I won’t force you”

“Oh, darling,” he began, making his way over to you, “I can think of no better way to spend my time than with you. I’ve missed you, you know that, and I can’t help it if I get a little over excited at the prospect of a whole twenty four hours with my best girl!”

Ah, that classic Holland charm. You were used to it, but not fully immune to it even after all this time. He settled on the sofa next to you, fixing you with intense eye contact and an earnest smile. “I just want to make this the best twenty four hours I possibly can. It’ll be just like old times. A few friends, a few drinks, and a lot of good music – trust me, Y/N, it’ll be worth it”

No matter how good the party was – and you really don’t remember – it can’t have been worth the stress this morning was now bringing you.

Tom sighs in his sleep, hugging the cushion tighter to his chest. He looks so serene, so innocent, and you’d almost find it adorable were you not so furious with him. You stride over to him, shaking his shoulder vigorously. “Tom, wake up!”

A sleepy groan escapes from his lips, and he snuggles deeper into the sofa. “No, s’too early” he mumbles, brow furrowing as he turns his head away from you.

“I’m serious, don’t you dare go back to sleep” you hiss, fighting your nausea as you lean over him. His nose wrinkles in annoyance, but he slowly turns to face you with a deep sigh. His eyes blink open to look at you, and the scowl softens into a smile.

“Mornin’, sunshine” he murmurs, gazing sleepily at you. “Sleep well?”

“Don’t you ‘sunshine’ me,” you object, “and I most certainly fucking didn’t. Not having such a great morning either”

His smile drops instantly, a brief flash of surprise crossing his face. “What’s up, darling?”

You narrow your eyes at him, spreading your arms to gesture around the room. “Have you seen the state of this house? This is why I didn’t want your dumb party in the first place”

Tom flinches slightly at your remark, a frown creasing his brow. He props himself up on his elbows to get a better look, but after a quick glance around the room he simply shrugs. “It’s not that bad. Trust me, I’ve seen worse” he says wryly, kicking at a stray can by his feet.

His nonchalance at the situation infuriates you. If this was his house, or even your own, it wouldn’t be such a big deal. But your godmother’s house? It’s a different story entirely. She keeps the place immaculate at all times, taking great care in the upkeep of her expensive furniture and manicured gardens. You’ve rarely seen even the tiniest speck of dust anywhere, and so the chaos that confronts you now is more than a little bit distressing. It’s hard to suppress the panic that threatens to bubble up in your chest.

“Not that bad? Tom, this is a nightmare” you fret, glancing up at the clock above the mantelpiece – ten AM. “Jesus fuck, I only have three hours before she gets back!”

In a burst of frantic energy, you begin collecting as much trash as you can possibly carry. “She trusted me and I’ve fucked up, I’ve majorly fucked up”

Trash spills out of your arms as you lean down to pick up a bottle, which only exacerbates your agitation. You’re screwed, you’re so so screwed. “I’m never gonna get it clean in time, she’s gonna kill me!” you exclaim, before a firm hand on your arm stops you in your tracks.

“Alright, Y/N, just hang on a for a moment”

Tom spins you round to face him, placing his hands on your shoulders in a gesture that’s oddly reassuring. His eyes scan your face, a tinge of concern reflected in them. “Look, I get why you’re stressed, and I’m sorry I tried to brush it off, but it’s honestly not that big of a deal. Three hours is plenty of time if we work together, we’ve done it before. It’ll be just like old times”

You roll your eyes, but relax a little under his touch. “Just like old times is what got us into this mess, Tom, so it had better be able to get us out”

“You remember the drill. Two cups of tea, radio on, no panicking. I’ll take the kitchen, you take the living room, and then we’ll tackle the garden together” he says confidently, unintimidated by the sea of trash that surrounds you.

“Okay, I guess that’s doable. I’ll get the kettle on then”

Twenty minutes later you’re getting stuck into the task, armed with a roll of black sacks and cleaning spray. The house may be ten times as big as your old apartment, but your well-honed routine is just as effective as it’s always been. You can’t help but smile as the sound of Tom’s singing floats in from the other room, his voice still slightly raspy from sleep. No matter how big a party is, Tom is always cheery and animated the morning after. His constant positivity is one of the things you like the most about him, and it’s comforting to have it with you right now.

“I meant to ask,” you call, “how come nobody stayed over?”

It had been strange, waking up to find the place near deserted. Usually you get at least a handful of hangers on the morning after, but this time it seems that everyone has cleared out. Tom pokes his head out of the kitchen, cup of tea in hand. “I sent them all home last night, after you fell asleep”

“How late was that?”

“Around one am, maybe?” he says, taking a sip from his mug.

One am? That’s pretty early by Tom’s standards. His parties were known to go on until sunrise, though you rarely made it to that point. It seems strange that he’d called it a night so prematurely, especially since he’d been so keen for the party in the first place. “Really? You didn’t want to keep things going?” you ask, and he shrugs nonchalantly.

“Not really. Didn’t really feel like it once you were out for the count”

He ducks back into the kitchen after that comment, putting an end to your line of questioning. You’re left staring at the doorway for a moment, thinking it over. No way would the Tom you’d lived with end a party just because you’d called it a night, so what’s different now? Is there something he’s not telling you? Still, it doesn’t seem like he’s willing to elaborate any further, so you return to your cleaning duties in silence.

A full half hour later, Tom emerges from the kitchen. He steps into the living room with a wide grin on his face, surveying the now immaculate space. “See, I told you we could do it. Looks like you’re feeling better too” he remarks, straightening the coffee table with a nudge of his foot before flopping down onto the sofa.

“Much better. Not looking forward to tackling the garden though. Any idea how to clean a pool?”

He laughs, glancing out of the French doors and then back at you. “Not at all, but we’ll improvise”

There’s a pause as he holds eye contact for a moment, his expression unreadable. You barely have time to work it out before he glances downwards, turning his face away from you. “Must admit, I was a little worried about you earlier” he says, fiddling with the tasselled edge of a cushion. “I hate seeing you like that”

The confident, cheeky Tom you know so well is suddenly replaced by a quieter, more sensitive version that you haven’t seen in a long time. It’s the same Tom that used to come out when you were ill or having a rough day, but never stuck around for very long. He rarely opens up or gets emotional unless he’s really pushed, and you can’t remember a time when he’s been upfront about his feelings. He’s the type to brush things off with casual humour, never getting down to the heart of a matter. You’ve learned not to press him any further than he’s willing to go himself, and so his sudden change of tone is an unexpected opportunity to dig deeper.

“Seeing me like what?”

“Stressed. Angry at yourself. Blaming yourself” he says, running a hand through his hair. He’s still facing away from you, and you’re certain it’s deliberate – it’s almost as if looking at you would be too much for him. You decide to act casual and busy yourself by dusting the mantelpiece, hoping to stretch this moment out for as long as possible.

“Looking after this place is a big deal, I think it was a pretty normal reaction to waking up and finding it trashed” you reply, your back turned to him. You’re testing him, seeing how far he’s willing to take this sudden vulnerability. Out of the corner of your eye you see him snap round to face you, one hand gripping the armrest.

“But it wasn’t your fault. You know that, right?” he insists, a pleading edge creeping into his voice. This is truly bothering him, you realise, though you’re not quite sure why.

“I mean, it was my fault for agreeing to the party when I knew this would happen” you tell him, risking a glance over your shoulder. His gaze is fixed onto you, his eyes dark and intense. Genuine concern is written all over his face, but it’s gone the second your eyes meet his.

“Psshh, no way am I letting you take the credit for this!” he smirks, and suddenly confident Tom is back in control. He kicks his feet up on the coffee table, reclining with his hands behind his head. “That party was my success, full credit is mine”

“Well take some responsibility for the aftermath of your ‘success’ and help me clear the garden” you shoot back, gesturing for him to follow you outside.

He offers you a sarcastic salute and a mumbled “Yes sir”, before getting to his feet and stretching his arms above his head. He’s standing directly in a sunbeam, and the muscles on his chest and arms are neatly defined in the soft light.

Ohh, that’s a weird thing for you to notice.

But clearly he’s been working out a lot lately, and you have to admit that he’s looking incredibly good standing there, all tanned and muscular and…

Yep, very weird.

Come on, Y/N. Who cares if he’s working out or not, you’re not supposed to notice things like that about your best friend. Still, it’s more of a distraction than you’d like it to be. You push the unwelcome thoughts deep down and glance at him over your shoulder, trying to fix your gaze on his face rather than the region below it. “And would it kill you to put a shirt on?” you sigh, tucking a roll of black sacks under your arm before stepping outside. “No one needs to see… all of that”.

The eyeroll you follow it with is probably overkill, but if it is Tom doesn’t catch on. “Please, you love it really” he smirks, following close behind. “Besides, my shirt is currently awol”

“Why did you take it off?” you ask, handing him a black sack and getting straight to work.

“I didn’t, darling” he says casually, with a sideways glance. “You did”

You freeze. Is Tom really suggesting that you… no, he’s definitely messing with you, that would never happen. Still, last night is little more than a few hazy images in your mind, and the hangover suggests that you had a few too many so… Oh god, what exactly have you forgotten?

He’s watching you patiently, one eyebrow raised as he studies your reaction. His calmness hopefully means that whatever you did wasn’t too bad, so you flash him a smile and get stuck in to cleaning up. “Good one, Tom” you scoff, “But I highly doubt that.”

“Do you not… hang on, do you actually remember last night?” he asks.

“Not really. I remember agreeing to the party, and there’s a few flashes of something here and there, but it’s pretty much a blackspot”

Tom stares at you for a moment, the same unreadable expression from earlier on his face. “That explains a lot” he mumbles, before returning to throwing trash in his sack.

“What do you mean?”

“Doesn’t matter. I’d just forgotten you were so much of a lightweight” he teases.

“Yeah, very funny. So where is your shirt, exactly?”

“Like I told you, darling, I wasn’t the one who took it off.”

This is a blackspot you really need to remember. “You’re gonna need to remind me what happened, Tom, cause I’m super confused right now. You’re telling me I took your shirt off? Why would I do that?”

“You were begging me to come swimming with you, and I guess you were trying to get me ready. It was kinda funny, watching you trying to undo all those buttons whilst barely managing to stay upright” he laughs, pitching an empty can at your head. You catch it skilfully, tossing it into your sack and eyeing him warily.

“Jesus, how much did I have to drink last night?”

“More than you usually do. You were all like ‘ohh, Tom, pleeeease,” he mimics, swaying comically. “Come swiiiim with me!”

“Come on, Tom! I wanna go swimming!” you coo, gripping the sides of his open shirt with both hands. The ground is spinning beneath your feet, and you stumble a little as you struggle to remain standing. Tom catches you, though. Of course he does. He’s so reliable, isn’t he? And so sturdy. Yes, you think, patting his bare chest, sturdy is the right word. His body is firm under your touch, and you smile to yourself as you lean into him.

“I really don’t think swimming is a good idea, sweetheart. Not in your state, anyway” he says, walking you backwards and away from the pool’s edge.

“But it’ll be so much fun! Let’s get this off you, can’t go swimming in your clothes Tommy boy!” you exclaim, before pushing the garment over his shoulders and flinging it away from you. There’s a rustle as it lands in a hedge a few metres away, but you’re not interested in that. “See? Now we can go!”

“No, you’re not going swimming” he says firmly, still moving you backwards. “You’re gonna sit down over here, okay”

The backs of your calves hit the edge of a sun lounger, and he gently manoeuvres you into a sitting position. His hands rest on your shoulders, warmth seeping through your clothes to your skin. You blink up at him, his face blurring at the edges. If you really focus, you can see the gentle smile on his lips as he gazes down at you, those deep brown eyes like pools of molten chocolate. He looks so good in moonlight, doesn’t he? He looks good all the time.

One hand comes up to brush some hair out of your face, tucking it neatly behind your ear. It feels good to have him so close, so reassuring.  His hand lingers on your cheek, his touch both unfamiliar and yet incredibly natural…

The sound of glass hitting concrete snaps you back into the present, and you struggle to repress the heat currently rushing to your cheeks. Tom nods towards the empty glass by your feet, which you must’ve kicked over. “I went to get you some water but in the two minutes I was gone, you’d managed to fall asleep”

So that explains your unconventional sleeping arrangements.  Still, the fact that Tom seems to be avoiding your eyes tells you that there’s definitely something more to the story. “Why didn’t you make me go to bed? I’m damn lucky it didn’t rain last night”

“You looked so peaceful, it seemed a shame to wake you. And I made sure I was nearby anyway, in case you needed anything” he explains, pushing himself to feet.

You’d just assumed that he’d passed out on the sofa by accident; it hadn’t occurred to you that it was a calculated choice. Tom had chosen to forgo the lavish guest room in order to keep an eye on you, sacrificing his comfort for your benefit. “Oh. Thanks” you mumble, as he wanders away from you to continue clearing up. Again, it seems that he’s done talking.

The two of you resume your routine in silence, filling up sack after sack with party debris. You’re examining the pool situation when a shout from the side of the garden gets your attention, and you look up to see Tom waving his shirt above his head. “Found it!” he calls, jogging over to meet you. “Still want me to cover up… all this?”

“Do what you want” you reply, ignoring him as runs his hands over his bare chest with a suggestive grin.

“As you wish” he beams. With a flick of his wrist he drapes his shirt over a lawn chair, before beginning to unbutton his jeans.

“Whoa whoa whoa, what do you think you’re doing?” you gasp.

Tom doesn’t bat an eyelid, pushing his jeans over his hips and down to the ground. “In the absence of a pool skimmer, darling, the only way to get the trash out of the pool is to get in it myself” he says, kicking his clothing to one side. You can’t argue with his logic, but still – the sight of him standing before you, hands on his hips, in only his underwear is a little alarming. He’d walked around the flat like this many times when you’d lived together, and you’d forgotten how brazen he could be. He had nothing to be ashamed about, certainly.

“Okay, I guess that’s a good idea” you affirm, trying to look anywhere else but at him.

“You stand here and grab the things I throw out, we’ll be done in no time” he says, before diving headlong into the pool. He emerges from the water seconds later, posing like a model in a men’s cologne ad. His hair is dripping wet, and he pushes it back from his forehead with one hand. “Let’s get to work!” he chuckles, before tossing a crumpled plastic cup in your direction.

The chore quickly becomes a game, with you forming a moving target for Tom to hit as you dash around the poolside. When you’re having this much fun, it’s easy to forget just how stressed you were earlier. Tom’s always been good at getting you out of your own head, and by this point you’re more curious than mad about last night.

“What did you mean earlier,” you begin, as Tom climbs out of the pool, “When you said you didn’t really feel like continuing the party after I feel asleep?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. It was our party, and you needed some rest, and… I don’t know” he says noncommittally, shaking the water out of his hair.

“But you’ve never cared about that stuff before. Why let me ruin your fun this time?”

“You didn’t ruin my fun” he grimaces, glancing sideways at you. His tone has an edge to it, and you’re surprised at how quickly his defences have gone up. “Maybe I was tired too”

“Were you?”

“It doesn’t…”

He stops himself, rubbing his cheek with the back of his hand. “Do you really not remember anything from last night” he asks, which only confirms the fact that you’ve definitely forgotten something big.

“Is there something I should remember?” you shoot back.

He stares at you in silence, his brow creased in a frown. There’s an intensity to his gaze that speaks of hope, searching your face for something he’s clearly not finding. He glances down at the floor, breaking the tension you hadn’t realised had built up between you. “No. I’m gonna go upstairs and get changed, okay” he says, his voice measured but tinged with despondency. “I’ll check the bedrooms while I’m up there, but I think we’re done”

He walks away with his shirt slung over his shoulder, and you watch as he steps inside the house and out of view.

God, you wish you could remember last night.

Maybe then you’d know why Tom was behaving so strangely. Come on, think. Could you have said or done something to piss him off? You wander over to the sun loungers, hoping that a specific location will help rejog your memory like it did earlier. It’s hard seeing Tom so bothered about something. He’s always so blasé about his feelings, the only time you ever see him like this is when he’s wallowing over a girl.

She has her hand on his arm, leg pressed against his as she laughs at something he’s said. He’s not that funny, you think bitterly, watching as she throws her head back in hysterics. You’ve seen girls draping themselves over him in this fashion many a time, but for some reason this particular one is making you very uncomfortable.

It’s probably just because you’re not used to it happening here, you tell yourself. You’re not used to random girls invading a place you used to play in as a child and throwing themselves at your best friend. What’s her name, anyway? You don’t remember.

Around you, the party is in full swing. Friends and strangers alike fill the house and spill out onto the patio, clearly enjoying themselves a lot more than you are. It’s hard to have fun when all you can think about is how difficult it is to get red wine stains out of a cream carpet.

Maybe you’d loosen up a little bit if you upped your alcohol intake, you think, regarding the empty wine glass in your hand. Right on cue, a guy you vaguely know passes by, wielding a bottle of prosecco above his head. You’re certain it’s one from your godmother’s secret stash, but at this point you’d rather not think about it. “Top up?” he asks, and you nod as as he fills your glass with the sparkling liquid.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spot the girl running a hand through Tom’s curls. You look back at prosecco guy with a grim smile. “Keep it coming”.

Girl problems – of course.

Clearly you’d done something embarrassing to scare her off, and that’s why he’s mad at you. She’d probably seen you taking his shirt off and left in disgust, and he ended the party because he didn’t see the point without her.

Still, that memory has left you with a sense of something very uncomfortable that you can’t shake. The image of her draped over his lap doesn’t sit well with you, just like it didn’t last night. What’s with you today? If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that little pang of discomfort in your chest is the product of jealousy.

Which of course is a ridiculous idea.

Why would you be jealous of a random girl? Tom doesn’t belong to you. He’s just your ex-roommate, and your best friend, a guy who you know better than anyone and who you’ve really, really missed lately…

Ohh, fuck.

Jealousy it is then.

It’s certainly not a good feeling, and it’s not one you’re prepared to experience. You wrap your arms around yourself as you consider the situation, suddenly rather cold despite the midday sun.

Then again, you think, it’s not like the signs weren’t there. You’ve been thinking about him a lot lately, but you’d just thought it was because after five years of living with him, it’s hard not seeing him all the time. It seemed natural to miss him, and you know what they say about absence and the heart… but maybe you’ve grown a little fonder than you’ve let yourself realise.

When Tom had suggested a house party instead of a quiet evening in, you’d thought your main objection was the inevitable mess you’d be left with. You know now that you were wrong. The idea of the house being filled with other people wasn’t one you liked, because all you’d wanted was to be alone with Tom. And when that girl had cosied up to him, it hurt. You’d turned to prosecco rather than face up to the emotional turmoil you’d rather not experience.

Well, you were certainly experiencing it now.

But that doesn’t matter. Whatever you’re feeling – and you’re certainly not giving it a name – it’s overshadowed by the fact that you messed up an opportunity for Tom last night. As his best friend first and foremost, it’s your duty to put his feelings above yours and make the situation right. After all, you’ve managed to get over him before. Like every other girl you’d fallen head over heels for him the first time you met, but you’d been able to move past that and settle for ‘just friends’; why fuck things up now by going backwards?

Composing yourself, you step inside the house and sit on the sofa to await Tom’s return. A few minutes later you hear his footsteps on the stairs, and look over to see him enter the room. He’s finally wearing a shirt, albeit unbuttoned, and he smiles when he notices you.

That wonderful, heart stopping smile.

No, none of that. Play it cool.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he says with a grin, “But I used your hairdryer to blow dry my boxers”. He wiggles his hips in a little dance, winking at you over his shoulder. “Nice and warm”.

“Oh, lovely” you nod, reassured to see that his usual cheekiness has returned.

He dances his way into the kitchen, calling out “Cup of tea?” as he disappears from view.

“I’d love one, thanks”.

You let a few seconds pass as you think about your next move. The last thing you want is to leave things on a weird note, regardless of your feelings, so you’d best make things right before he goes home.

“I can call her for you, if you’d like” you begin, although the very idea isn’t one you enjoy.

“Call who?” he replies, leaning out of the kitchen to frown at you. “What are you on about?”

“The girl from last night. The one you were getting all cosy with”

You expect more of a reaction from him than the eyebrow raise you get.

“Why would I want you to do that?”

“To make things right with her. Isn’t that why you’re mad at me? Cause I fucked things up between the two of you?” you continue, which only seems to confuse him further.

“You didn’t… look, there’s nothing going on between me and her, she’s just a friend of a friend who gets a little too touchy-feely sometimes. And I’m not… I’m not mad at you, okay”

He ducks back into the kitchen, but seconds later he’s back again. There’s a curious smile on his face, his head cocked to one side. “Out of everything that happened last night the only thing you can remember is the two minutes I spent being touched up by a random girl. It really bothered you, didn’t it?”

“Not really. I just happened to be passing through, that’s all. Didn’t pay it too much attention” you shrug, picking at a bit of fluff on your jeans.

“No no no, don’t give me that”.

He takes a few steps into the living room, watching you with a strange fascination. “Everything else is gone but that still stuck in your mind. It mattered to you”.

“Why should I care who you get ‘touched up’ by?” you grimace, hoping he’ll give up this line of questioning before you give yourself away. “How’s that tea coming along”.

“Kettle’s not boiled yet” he says, without looking. “Come on, Y/N, think. If you can remember that much, you can remember everything else”.

He holds your gaze for a few seconds, before glancing back into the kitchen. “Just think, okay” he says softly, before heading back into the kitchen.

So you were wrong. It’s not the girl, and he’s not mad at you… which makes sense, come to think of it. When you woke him up, he seemed so happy to see you until he realised you were mad at him. With that in mind, it can’t have been something you did that’s troubling him – it’s the fact that you’ve forgotten what you did.

You get up and wander over to the French doors, trying to piece together everything you remember from last night. You agreed to the party, a whole bunch of people arrived, a girl got cosy with Tom, you got jealous, you drank a lot. Everything seems to be in place so far. It’s a little hazy after that, but then you grabbed Tom by the pool, tried to take him swimming, he sat you down on a sun lounger and brushed your hair behind your ear and…

His hand lingers on your cheek, his touch both unfamiliar and yet incredibly natural. God, you’ve missed him. You’ve missed the way he smiles at you in the morning, and the way he says goodnight. You’ve missed the sound of his voice as he sings in the shower, and the way he wrinkles up his nose when you mention you’ve heard him. You’ve missed borrowing his hoodies for warmth when the boiler’s on the fritz, and the scent of his cologne surrounding you like a blanket. You’ve missed how he crawls into your bed on a Sunday morning to watch TV, all warm and sleepy and husky voiced…

You’ve missed him so, so much.

And now here he is. You can barely focus on anything else, but right now you see him so clearly. He’s gazing down at you with a look in his eye that speaks of affection and wistfulness, his fingertips gently brushing against your skin.

You wonder if he looked at that girl this way.

“She’s probably waiting for you inside” you mumble, moving your head down to shake off his hand.

“Who’s waiting for me?” he asks, moving to sit beside you on the sun lounger.

“That girl. The one with the pretty smile and the perfect hair”

He seems to find this funny somehow, chuckling gently to himself. “The only girl here who fits that description is you, darling” he says softly, nudging his shoulder against yours.

You shake your head insistently, gesturing vaguely towards the house. “Not me, her. You’re just saying that”

“I don’t say things I don’t mean”.

You scuff your shoe along the ground, feeling his gaze even when you’re not looking at him. Are his eyes always this intense? They’re beautiful, you think. Everything about him is beautiful.

“Wouldn’t you be happier inside with her, than looking after me?” you suggest, tilting your chin to look at him. You can feel his warmth next to you, his bare skin brushing against your arm.

“Not at all. Like I said earlier, I can think of no better way to spend my time than with you”

You feel yourself swaying a little and lean into Tom for support. “Then why did you invite all these people?” you groan, resting your head against his shoulder. He’s so close to you, so close you can hear his heartbeat if you focus hard enough.

His arm slips around your back and pulls you into his side, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. “I kinda wish I hadn’t now, sweetheart”.

Me too, Tom, you think. But what comes out is a slurred, “I’ve really fucking missed you”.

“I’ve missed you too” he says, before adding “More than you know”

More than you know?

“What’s that s’posed to mean?” you mumble against his skin. It might just be the prosecco fog in your brain, but something here feels different. Tom feels different. He feels good, certainly, but different. Good different. Tell-me-more-different. I could sit here all night, different.

“I don’t know whether I should say. And if I do, I’m not certain you’ll remember in in the morning” He says, his lips brushing against your hair as he speaks. The sensation sends a pleasant shiver up your spine.

“I definitely will. You can tell me anything, we’re friends”

You feel his chest rise and fall as he sighs again, one hand absent-mindedly rubbing circles on your waist. “That’s just the problem, love. I don’t think I can be friends with you anymore”

You push against his chest, sitting up to get a better look at him. “That’s mean!” you scowl, sliding yourself further down the sun lounger and crossing your arms over your chest. Tom doesn’t want to be your friend? Maybe you don’t want to be his either. Well no. You do.

No you don’t. Not friends, anyway.

Fuck, you feel weird.

Does the earth always spin this fast?

“Oh Y/N, come here” he chuckles, gently pulling you back towards him and taking your hands in his.  “Look at me, darling. I didn’t mean it like that”.

He’s looking at you with that searching gaze again, those beautiful eyes fixed onto yours.

“I shouldn’t have pushed you to have a party, but the thought of being alone with you all evening, snuggled up on the sofa just like old times… it was too much”

“Too much?”

“Actually, no” he sighs, softly stroking the backs of your hands with his thumbs. “It’s not enough”.

Not enough.

The world around you is blurry, the noise from the party nothing more than a faint hum in the back of your mind. All you can hear is Tom’s voice, all you can see is his face as he gazes down at you with such… such… what is it?

You remember that look so well, suddenly. It’s ingrained on your mind, so vivid it’s almost as if he’s in front of you now. You can hear him humming to himself as he makes the tea, and you realise how patient he’s been considering the enormity of what you’ve forgotten. The happiness when he woke up to you, the confusion when you were mad at him, the moments of tentative emotion… it all makes sense.

You know exactly what happened last night.

“That’s what I meant when I said I can’t be your friend. Friends isn’t enough anymore. I realised it the first morning in my new place, when I woke up wishing you were there” he continues, his voice gentle and earnest.

There’s a pause as he draws his bottom lip between his teeth. He’s building up to something, you realise, but he doesn’t seem nervous. He seems hopeful. His gaze drops for a moment, before returning to meet yours again with a renewed intensity.

How could you have forgotten this?

“Tom?” you call, trying to keep your voice measured. “I remember”.

There’s a sharp intake of breath, before he slowly emerges from the kitchen. He’s watching you warily, his eyes scanning your face as he tries to glean how you’re feeling. He wasn’t nervous last night, but he certainly is now. “How much?”

“All of it”

“I love you, Y/N” he breathes, his eyes bright and sparkling in the moonlight. “You don’t have to say anything, and it doesn’t matter if you don’t feel the same way, but there it is. I love you”.

He’s so pleased he’s finally said it.

And so are you.

Of course, you’d rather you could see straight, and it would probably sound better if your words weren’t slurred, but:

“I love you too”

His lips curve into a relieved smile, cheeks flushed red. “You know, if you weren’t so drunk right now this would be the perfect time to kiss you”

He takes a few steps towards you, swallowing hard. “And?”

“And I’m not drunk anymore”

His face lights up with his trademark smile as he gets your meaning. He closes the gap between the two of you, pulling you into him with a hand on your lower back. The other hand comes up to gently cup your face, fingertips brushing across your cheek as he looks at you the same way he did last night – with love.

And love is exactly what you feel as his lips meet yours, gentle at first as the pair of you savour the moment. The passion soon increases as his kisses become more insistent, your hands tangled in his hair and his chest flush against yours. He’s kissing you with all the pent up emotion from the past three months, the I love you’s and I miss you’s that he’s been dying to say conveyed in the movement of his lips.

Just friends could never be enough, but this?

“Are we seriously going to play tag? We’re adults!” You laughed, knowing already what the answer would be.

“Yes, yes we are! See you at the premiere babe.” Tom laughed as he closed the door.

You sighed to yourself, readjusting your dress and your heels, as you headed to the bathroom to make sure you had your makeup with you in case you had to touch up, it was going to be an interesting night for sure.

You knew that would be right when you stepped out of the car and spotting Tom walking towards you, through the crowds of fans and photographers. You walked forward and he fell into step beside you, grinning again. You turned to him and raised an eyebrow slightly.

“Nice to see you again, (Y/N).” He said, trying to play it off for the cameras.

“You too Mr. Holland.” You smiled, pulling him in for a hug, and flicking his shoulder before whispering, “You're it.” And then gracefully maneuvering your way through a crowd and away from Tom. You signed posters and took pictures with fans before you caught tom moving towards you out of the corner of your eye. You fats walked away and by the time you made it to the carpet, you were a little out of breath. So naturally, that's when all the interviewers would want to talk to you.

“So I think everyone was a little surprised to see Kate Bishop without hawkeye in Infinity War, can you tell us why that is?”

“Well, shot answer she doesn't need a man to kick alien butt. And I can’t give you the long story because that would be a spoiler and you know how Marvel feels about those.”

“Speaking of spoilers, let's talk about Tom Holland.  Rumor has it the two of you have been spending a lot of time together, is there a romance on the horizon?”

“Uh, no. I mean-Toms a great guy.” You looked around to make sure he wasn't trying to sneak up on you, “And I’m looking around to make sure he isn't here, because I wouldn’t want to inflate his ego more but Tom is great guy, I mean we’ve done two movies together we’re going to do three more which I can say now that he's spoiled that, so we hang out, and he’s a little clueless sometimes on American customs so I need to help him out sometimes.”  You paused before laughing a little, “And to be honest, it's nice to watch him work out.”

---------

You had managed to avoid Tom for most of the night, but when it was finally time to get into your seats he caught you, he snuck right up behind you while you were in a conversation with Chris Evans when he snuck up behind you and tagged you almost unnoticeable. “Crap.” You grumbled, looking around to find Tom who had suddenly disappeared. Chris looked at you curiously, but you shrugged it off, “Nothing.”

By the time you finally made it to your seat you were a little out of breath, but grinning wide. Chris sighed to himself before asking, “What are you and Tom doing?”

“Uh. Playing tag.” You admitted.

“You guys are playing a weird sex game?”

“It’s not a weird sex game, we’re just playing, tag. Chris you don’t have to make it all weird. We’re just enjoying the company of each other.”

“By playing a children’s game?”

“By enjoying our youth.”

“Uh-huh.” Chris laughed to himself a little and you smiled at him.

You thought that you would be done with the game for the night, and have to listen to Tom tease you about losing to him. That was until you got up to use the bathroom when the credits began to roll and felt a little embarrassed about doing to considering you knew there was going to be a post credit scene and you were in a room with a lot of die-hard Marvel fans. You walked up the steps and out of the door when suddenly you felt a hand on your back, and you turned around to find it was Tom’s.

“What you doing?” You giggled.

“I thought you wanted me to come.”

“What? I was going to the bathroom.”

“Ohh..Well.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your lips.

You pulled away, “Someone is gonna see us.”

“Don’t care.” He pulled you in again and this time you kissed him back, and the two of you just stood kissing in the hallway.

That was until you ran a hand through his hair and whispered, “You're it.”

 “Imayhavetoldmymomwearedatingandoneedyoutopretenttobemyboyfriend.” You spoke so fast you hardly understood yourself, but you needed to get this out before you chickened out.

 Harrison’s mind was groggy and he wasn’t sure he heard you right. When you turned back his way, he grabbed your arm. “Hey. Slow down. I don’t think I understood you.” He pulled you on the couch, making you face him. “Now, say it again, but slower.”

 “Don’t hate me.” His brows pinched, but before he could say anything, you took a deep breath, closed your eyes, and repeated yourself slower. “I may have told my mom we were dating, and now she wants us both to come back to their house for a few days and I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend.” It was quiet, and you slowly opened an eye to peak at him. His brows were raised but he had a smile on his face. “It’s just for like three days, and you don’t have to if you don’t want to but I’d like you too and just think about it. Oh my god this was a mistake, oh no.”  

 “Y/N. Y/N.” He put his hand over your mouth, stopping your rambling. Again, he was quiet. Your eyes pleaded for him to say something. Finally, “You told your mom we are dating.” He had a playful smile on his face as you pushed him, prying his hand away in the process.

 “Really, that’s all you got from that.” You ran your hands down your face, the shots you took weren’t helping as much as you’d hoped. “I might as well just come clean, it was stupid. Ugh.”

 Harrison grabbed your hands, holding them gently in his. “Hey, hey, no. I’ll do it. But, you have to tell me why you told them we are dating.”

 “Well, they are always digging at me for being single, and moms always telling me how cute you are and how cute we would be together and I finally just snapped? I told her we were planning a surprise visit to give them the good news and that since she wouldn’t leave me alone about it I told her.”

 He leaned back, pulling you with him so you were laying on his bare chest. No wonder she thinks we are dating. You felt him shrug. “I mean, I am cute, so she’s not wrong there. And you’re cute, so I think we would make an adorable fake couple. When do we leave?”

 “Um.” You were a little taken back, this wasn’t entirely how you had pictures the conversation going and you really hoped he couldn't feel how warm your cheeks had gotten, but hey, it was working. “Tonight if you want.”

 He kissed the top of your head. “Alright, love. Let’s get packing.”

——

 The ride to your parents was only a few hours. The two of you had driven it many times and even though this time was kinda different, it really wasn’t. You sang and danced the whole way there. Harrison had been calling you love, darling, and other pet names ever since he agreed to go.

 “What, darling, it’s best to get the part down. Right, love?”

 When you arrived at the house, your mother's face was pressed against the window. Much like an excited child waiting for their parent to come home.  She was off the couch and out the door before you put the car in park.

 “Oh, my sweet girl.” She squeezed your face before giving you a hug. “And Harrison. It’s always a pleasure.” She hugged him just as tight. “We are so glad you two are finally together.”

 “It’s all she’s been able to talk about.” Your father spoke, appearing behind her. Your face burned red. “Hello munchkin.” He kisses your head and extended his hand. “Harrison.”

 “Mr. Y/L/N. Thank you both for letting me visit.”

 “Oh pooey.” Your mother playfully slapped his arm. “The house is always open to Y/N and her boyfriend.” She was almost too giddy saying it.

 Harrison grabbed your bags from the backseat, refusing to let you carry yours as you followed your parents into the house.

 “Your room is all ready for you guys. You know where everything is if you need anything. It’s getting late, so I think I’m going to head to bed. I’ll see you two bright and early for breakfast.” She kissed each of you before heading down the hall to her room, followed shortly after by your father.

 You and Harrison made your way up the steps to your room, both quiet till the door was closed.

 “I can sleep on the floor of you'd like.” He scratched the side of his nose, looking around your room like it was the first time he had seen it. He had stayed here with you before, but in the guest room, so this kinda was a first.

 “Don’t be silly. There’s plenty of room, plus mom will most definitely come barging in when breakfast is ready.” You pulled the the bed covers down before going to your bag. “I’m going to go change. You can change in here if you want.” Harrison shot finger guns your way earning an eye roll and laugh from you as you stepped across the hall to your bathroom.

 When you returned to your room, Harrison had already made himself comfortable. “Welcome back, pumpkin.”

 “Are you going to call me every pet name you can think of?” You plugged your phone in before joining him in the bed. It wasn’t the first time you had shared a bed, you both almost always fell asleep during movie nights. But it felt a little odd knowing he was here as your ‘boyfriend’.

 “Probably, sugar, probably.” He pokes your nose, then turned over to turn off the light.

 “Goodnight, Haz.” You whispered, not realizing how sleepy you were till you laid down.

 “Goodnight, Puddin.” He laughed, earning a groan from you as you gently kicked him.

--

The sun was peeking through the window enough to cause you to turn and bury your head in the pillow. Before you could open your eyes, a hand reached around your waist, pulling you closer.

 "Shh." Harrison whispered when you jumped. "I can hear your mom in the hall." His breath was warm against your ear as the arm over you sent sparks through your nerves. Just as you were about to relax into his warmth the door opened and the smell of pancakes and bacon flooded your senses.

 "Oh, goodness. So cute." You could hear her give a happy sigh before leaning down close to you, gently shaking your shoulder. "Y/N. Harrison. Breakfast is ready."

 You let out a groan and rubbed your eyes. "Good morning." The arm around you didn't move, and the breath by your ear was steady. You rolled over, very aware of mothers eyes watching every move. "Haz, honey. Wake up." You poke at his nose, earning a soft smile and groan, his arm tightening around you. You poke his nose again.

 "Fine." He grunts, tilting his head just enough to kiss your cheek, an instant blush took over your face. "Good morning, goober." He rests his forehead on your shoulder a beat to hide his laugh, then looks to your mother. "It smells fantastic."

 "Don't take too long to come down, your father might eat all the bacon." She called as she closed the door.

 Harrisons arm was still resting comfortably around your waist. Your voice was soft when you finally spoke. "Don't fall back to sleep."

 His face was right next to yours, so when he smiled, a few strands of your hair moved with his cheek. "Hard not to when I'm so comfy. But, I do really need to use the bathroom."

 By the time Harrison made it downstairs, you were on your second pancake. He kissed the top of your head and greeted you as “dollface” before taking the seat next to you. He was really selling the boyfriend thing. To you it felt almost natural, not much different than how the two of you normally acted, just with some kisses and more touching and lots of pet names.

 "Do the two of you have any plans today?" Your father asked as he folded the morning paper.

 With a quick glance at Harrison you shook your head. "None that I can think of."

 "Excelant, I need to borrow you." He pointed his fork at Harrison. “Nothing to crazy, just need to go looking for some furniture and need the extra muscles.”

 Your father and Harrison were gone almost all day. Which meant you and your mother got a chance to be extremely lazy. Somewhere between watching one talk show and another you fell asleep. Your dream was lovely, a soft flutter of butterfly wings all over your face. Only. Wait. The wings are wet? You rub your hands on your face, only to be met with something there. A face, and, kisses?

 “Ugh.” You groan. “Stop.”

 A husky laugh made your eyes shoot open, Harrison’s face was directly over yours, blue eyes shining bright right along with his smile. “Good, you’re awake.” His lips met your face again, attacking you in sloppy kisses.

 “What. Are. You. Doing.”

 “Waking up sleeping beauty. What do you think?” He pushed his face into your neck. “Your mom’s watching. Kinda creepy but.” He leans back and kisses you nose.

 This time, the butterflies were in your stomach. “Okay, well, I’m up. Stop.” You grabbed his cheeks in your hands. “I’m awake.” His lips met yours. It was fast, you didn’t even have a chance to respond. Even though you had been sharing kisses, they were always on the cheek, or forehead, never on the lips.

 “Good, it’s time for dinner, Muffin.”

—

 The next day started the same, Harrison’s arm over you, pulled close to him. It was spent watching movies in the living room with your parents being lazy. Harrison was extremely cuddly. You couldn’t really complain, it was nice, but going back home would be a bit weird.

 “Do you want to know what your mom asked me today?” It was almost midnight, you and Haz had just been laying in your bed talking about anything and everything.

 “Oh no. I don’t know. I’m afraid to ask.”

 He flopped around to face you, grabbing your hand to play with your fingers. “She asked when we are getting married.”

“No.” You groaned, slapping a hand over your eyes. “I can’t believe she asked that.”

 “I guess this fake relationship is working out.” He snuggled closer, resting an arm over you. “Goodnight, honeydew.”

 You would have responded, but, him being curled up to you, unprompted by the presence of your parents, took you off guard. You didn’t quite trust your voice, so you snuggled in and drifted to sleep.

 The morning of your last day, the two of you woke up and packed, hoping to leave after lunch to beat the traffic. Harrison was oddly quiet all morning, he still kissed you head when he joined the breakfast table, but he didn’t contribute much to conversation. You didn’t get a chance to ask him anything either because your parents kept the two of you busy till it was time to leave. But, the feeling that something was weird stuck in the back of your head.

 “Oh, honey, you’ll have to come when you can stay longer.” Your mother said as she practically squeezed all the air from your body.

 “I’ll try and set aside a week when I can come stay, we can plan a big trip or something.” You kissed her cheek.

 She quickly moved to Harrison. “And I’ll be expecting you too mister.” She kissed his cheek, giving him a hug.

 “I wouldn’t miss it. But, I will miss your wonderful pancakes.” He returned her kiss, a soft smile on his face.

 After the passing of a few more hugs and kisses, the two of you started the drive home. The feeling in your mind only grew as you drove, Harrison kept his head against the window, not saying much.

 “Haz, are you okay?” You stole a glance at him before looking back at the road.

 "Hm." He rolled his head over to look at you. his eyes and smile soft. "I'm alright. Just sleepy." You could feel him watching you, his eyes tracing the lines of your face as you concentrated on the road. You stole another quick glance at him, smiling before he closed his eyes.

 The drive felt longer than normal. Maybe it was the traffic that you ended up stuck in, or the odd feeling in the car. Or, maybe you were just over thinking.

 It was dark when you got back to the apartment building. Harrison silently grabbed your bags from the back and followed you up to your respective doors. As you stood there, looking at each other, you couldn't help but think that your worst fear had come true. Asking him to be your fake boyfriend was a mistake. Things were bound to be awkward, much like they are now.

 "I had fun this weekend." Harrison scratched at his nose, looking up at you with a soft, tired face.

 You smiled. "Me too." It was silent for a beat, both of you just watching each other before you reached out to poke his cheek. "You should get some sleep."

 "You should too." He pulled you into a hug, kissing the side of your head. "Goodnight."

 "Goodnight, Haz."

 As you unpacked, you couldn't keep your mind off of how normal it felt to be as close to Harrison as you had been. It was on your mind as you made your way around your apartment, cleaning up random things, and eventually sitting on the couch in the quiet with a bowl of ice cream.

 It felt right. Harrison holding you, kissing you, calling you all those awful pet names. He fit in so well with your family, joining in on picking on you, helping your parents without question. Maybe it was just because you had feelings for him, after all you had for quite some time, but either way, you had made up your mind.

 Setting your bowl down with a clank, you made your way to your door, determined to tell Harrison how you were feeling. When you pulled your door open, Harrison was already there. Hair a ruffled mess, pajama bottoms on, and his fist in the air.

 "Oh." You jumped back, shocked to see him. It had only been a few hours since you had parted ways but you had already started to miss him.

 "Um. Hi." He dropped his fist and looked at his feet. "Were you going out?"

 You chuckled, motioning to your pajama shorts and tank. "Like this? No, I was actually about to come knock on your door."

 He looked shocked. "Oh, are you alright?"

 "Yeah. Are you?"

 He took a deep breath. "No. Okay. Here goes. I like you Y/N. A lot. I have for a while. When you asked be to be your fake boyfriend I thought it would be a good chance find out if you liked me too, but you were so hard to read. I couldn't tell if your reactions were something serious or just to sell the show. It felt so nice to hold you, and kiss you. After being able to do all that after so long, only to realize that it might not be able to happen again made me sad.

 I thought things would be able to just go back to how they were. But then I tried to go to sleep, and reached out for you only to find you not there. And now here I am rambling and probably making a shit of myself."

 You got a weird deja vu moment of  you in his apartment just a few days ago. He had a blush on his face, one hand in his hair, eyes wide when he finally finished. "I like you too." Your voice was so soft he almost missed it.

 "You don't have. Wait. What? Did I hear you right or am I losing it." His eyes bounced between yours.

“Yeah, it’s fine. Here, use my numbers.” You walked up to the front register, punching in your employee ID and making the entire order for the lot free before turning back to your cycle, doing your best to keep your team afloat.

“Uhh, Y/N, what were your numbers again? They didn’t work.” The barista said quite loudly. A mental groan passed through your mind as you reiterated them over the headset as you kept moving, trying your best to keep your temper in check—she was new and catching on and there was no reason to be angry. You were assisting the baristas making drinks, taking care of all iced teas, refreshers, and frappuccinos since they were all the drinks everyone hated to make. Being a seasoned employee, you didn’t mind as much. You started making drinks that literally had your name on the tags, and it immediately clicked that these were the drinks for the cast of Spider-Man and Harrison. You called them out one by one, watching them walk up individually and thank you. The last two to go out were Harrison and Tom’s. The two young men looked at their drinks, a smile touching the star’s face.

“Y/N? My name’s actually Tom, love. Though Y/N is pretty, I quite like it.” The brunette chuckled before you could turn away.

“Oh, y-yeah. When a partner uses their discount, their name comes on the cup. Y-you’re Tom Holland, right?” You we’re doing your best to keep it cool—but this was the Tom Holland.

“So I take it since you gave us your discount, your name’s Y/N, that right? Thanks for that, by the way.” He held out his hand to shake, which you took with hesitance. As much as you wanted to hang out and chat, you couldn’t leave your team hanging without a leader to get through this massive rush.

“Yeah, don’t mention it. Literally, it’s against policy.” You joked, making the English boys laugh. To the best of your ability, you have a genuine smile before waving to them and attempted to return to work. The man directly next to Tom, his best friend Harrison held up a hand.

“Uh, Y/N, is it?” He said. “You think I can get a bit more sugar in this?” Before you could take the cup away to remake it, one of your staff members came up and took it away for you, leaving you awkwardly standing face to face with both Tom and Harrison. “Oh, thank you so much darling.” The boys looked at each other briskly, a smirk on Harrison’s face as Tom stared at him wide-eyed. “So, Y/N. I’m just curious, what are your numbers?” Harrison asked. Tom looked at him with his mouth slightly agape as he smacked Harrison with the back of his hand, scolding his name as he did so.

“Excuse me?” You asked in confusion. The smirk on Harrison’s face just grew wider. “I-I don’t mean to be rude, man. But I can’t just give you my employee numbers, that would really be breaking policy.” A boisterous laugh escaped his lips before he turned to Tom.

“She’s a cute one, ain’t she? You sure know how to pick him.”

“Harrison...” Tom groaned in slight embarrassment. He cleared his throat and stood a little bit straighter. “What he meant love, is your phone number.”

“Uhh...” You turned around, looking to see if possibly one of your employees was standing directly behind you, or if Tom Holland was really saying this to you.

“Yeah, Tom wanted to give you a ring. Maybe see if you wanted to do something after the premier.” Harrison said as he wrapped an arm around Tom in pride. He was doing such a great job as a wing man, or so he thought.

“I mean, if you aren’t busy tonight or anything.” Tom added quickly, looking incredibly sheepish. As a nervous habit, you began fidgeting around with your pockets, trying to find a sharpie and something to write your number down on. You ended up grabbing one of the sleeves that went around hot drinks, writing your number down in permanent black ink. “Have you any plans?” Tom asks, accepting the little brown piece of cardboard.

“N-no, I just have to close up shop here. I should be out around ten?” A lopsided grin took place on Tom’s thin lips.

Tom had been away for a while, filming his most recent movie and you both hadn’t talked a lot during the last few months. You knew the minute you would see him everything would go back to normal. Well, you hoped. You didn’t know why he had stopped texting you as much as before, you guessed it was just because he was busy. And he was the one who had suggested for you guys to hang out tonight so you had nothing to worry about. Right? Tonight was just going to be fun. And it was the beginning of summer, which meant the beginning of long nights of hanging out with Tom and just living your best life.

Your day at work had been long and you were glad to finally be on the ride back home. Back to him. But why was it raining so much? As you walked out of the bus and in the rain, you couldn’t help but to swear underneath your breath. It was the middle of June and the rain was still cold as shit, great. You walked to your apartment, which was in the same building as Tom’s. You were supposed to meet at his place but you wanted to drop by your flat first to get ready. After all, you weren’t going to show up with your work clothes.

You quickly took a shower. You put some music as you blew your hair dry and then as you put just a little bit of make-up on. For your outfit, you chose a pair of black jeans with a simple white t-shirt, knowing Tom would make fun of you if you overdid yourself. So you kept the outfit simple.

When you were ready, you took a deep breath, watching your reflection in the mirror. Your excitement to see Tom was mixed with something else, something you wished was caused by the weather. You were dreading the moment you were going to see him. As if something was going to happen.

You shook your head, trying to shake the dark thoughts away. Nothing was going to happen. It was just Tom and you, like always.

You grabbed a pack of beer from your fridge before walking to Tom’s apartment. You hesitated on his doorstep but then you knocked on the door and waited for him to open. When he did, your heart stopped in your chest. Had he always looked so attractive?

He was wearing black jeans along with a white t-shirt (you almost laughed when you realized you were dressed the same way) and boy did it suit him well.

“Tommy!” you exclaimed, all your worries disappearing as you saw his face for the first time in months.

He smiled and opened his arms waiting for you to hug him. You dropped the beers on the ground before throwing your arms around his neck. His arms went around your waist and he pulled you closer, slightly lifting you from the ground. He buried his face in your neck and you could feel his hot breath tickling your skin.

“I’ve missed you”, he mumbled and you could feel his lips moving against your neck.

Why was that making you feel so warm? He put you back on the ground, his hands still on your hips as you looked up at him.

“I’ve missed you too”, you said.

He stood aside to let you walk in his apartment. You heard a soft bark and suddenly a little dog was running to you.

“Tessa!” you said as you dropped to your knees to pet the dog. “I’ve missed you most little one.”

Tom laughed and shook his head as he walked to the couch. “I knew you love Tessa more than you love me.”

Love. The word love in his mouth made you feel warm inside. Your cheeks burned as you said: “I love both of you equally, you div!”

If only he knew how much that was true. Somewhere in the middle of May, a month ago, you had realized you were in love with your best friend. When he had called you at two in the morning to tell you that he missed you and wished he could hang out with you because Harrison was getting boring, you had felt butterflies in your stomach. From that moment you were screwed. And you knew it.

Perhaps that was the reason Tom had stopped to talk to you as much. Not because he didn’t want to but because you were the one that wasn’t texting him as much as you used to. You were afraid to seem clingy and that that would push him away.

You picked up your beers at the door before shutting it and joining Tom on the couch. You sat at the opposite end of it from Tom and he shot you a glance. You usually always cuddled but right now you were afraid your feelings would get in the way.

You took a beer from your 6-pack, offering one to Tom who took it with a wide smile on his lips.

“What’s new?” he asked.

You thought about it for a moment. Nothing’s new, I just have feelings for you now. It’s funny how it took you months away from him to figure that out.

“Not much, to be honest”, you answered. “Still working at Nando’s.”

Tom laughed. “Haven’t been to Nando’s in ages.”

You took a sip of your beer, your heart beating out of your chest when Tom glanced at you with his soft puppy eyes.

“What about you?” you asked, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach as he smiled softly.

“You won’t believe me”, he said.

You forgot about your feelings for a moment, curiosity taking the lead.

“What is it?” you asked.

His cheeks turned red as he took a sip of his beer. That’s when you realized you probably didn’t want to know.

“I’ve met someone”, he finally answered and your heart sank in your chest.

Ouch. That explained why he had stopped texting you as much as before.

“Oh, really?” you blurted, your voice a little too high as your blood turned cold in your veins.

Tom shot you a look and in his eyes you could see all his love for the other person. “Yeah. Met her on set.”

Each beat of your heart was painful and it took a lot for you not to start crying. “She’s an actress?” you asked, your voice shaking a little on the last word.

“No, a make-up artist”, he replied. “You alright?”

His voice was filled with concern, concern for his best friend who seemed like she had just seen a ghost.

“Is that why you stopped texting me?” you asked with the smallest voice.

You didn’t miss how he looked away before he answered. “You really want to talk about this right now?”

No. No no no. You didn’t ever want to have that conversation. You had feared the day when Tom would get a girlfriend because you knew that meant he wouldn’t be able to be as close to you as he used to be. You knew no girls would accept that. The fact that you now had feelings for him only made it worse.

“Uh, do I?” you asked, hoping maybe he’d see something in your eyes and that he wouldn’t break your heart even more than it already was.

“I guess it’s better sooner than later”, he said.

“What do you mean?” you asked as tears dwelled in your arms.

Tom looked at you. He had an apologetic look on his face and it made everything ten times worse. You didn’t want him to be sorry, you wanted him to hold you and tell you he loved you the same way you loved him.

“She isn’t comfortable with our friendship”, Tom whispered and for a moment you could see hurt in his eyes but it quickly vanished to be replaced by a stern expression. “And I agree with her.”

A tear rolled down your cheek and you quickly wiped it with the back of your hand, hoping Tom wouldn’t notice but of course he did.

“Y/N, don’t cry”, he whispered. “It just means that we can’t be as close as we used to be, we can still hang out.”

“No, Tom, you don’t understand.” You paused for a moment, searching for the words to say. “I’m in love with you.”

The second the words fell from your mouth you wished you could take them back. This was the stupidest thing you could have told him at that moment and you cursed yourself mentally for having said it.

“You… uh… what?” Tom stuttered.

“I love you, Tom”, you truthfully said. There was no turning back now. “Have had for quite some time now. I know it’s stupid and I know I shouldn’t have told you that but it just happened.”

“I’m so sorry”, he apologized.

This only broke your heart a little more. “It’s okay, I’m the div who fell in love with my best friend.”

You fell into a more than uncomfortable silence, in which you wondered what you were supposed to do now. Was this the last time you were going to see Tom?

“You’re still my friend, you know that?” Tom said. “I’ll always be there for you.”

Fucking liar. If he was to always be there for you, he wouldn’t have accepted to take some distance from you.

“Yeah”, you breathed, your eyes falling on your almost untouched bottle of beer.

You took a sip of it, hoping that maybe the alcohol would be able to drown the pain in your chest. You both sat in silence for a while, awkwardness filling the air.

You recalled the bad feeling you had had earlier today in the bus and you suddenly realised it wasn’t because of the rain but rather because you were about to lose that one person you had wished to have by your side forever. Now you wished it had just been the rain.

You stayed like that for a moment, both of you feeling as if a gap was forming between the two of you, a gap so wide you could never be able to cross it.

“Should I leave?” you asked even though the words killed you.

“I’d never thought I’d say this but yeah I guess I’d like that”, Tom said with a small voice. “I mean, not that I’d like it but you know, it would probably be better. Not better but yeah…”

“Tom, it’s fine”, you cut his rambling. “I understand.”

It’s fine. Biggest lie you had ever told. It wasn’t fine. Nothing was fine. You wanted to hold on to the last remnants of your friendship but there was nothing to hold on to. It was like trying to hold a handful of sand, it fell through the cracks between your fingers no matter how much you tried to hold onto it.

“Text me if you need something, okay?” Tom said. “I’m there for you.”

If you were really there for me you wouldn’t let me walk out that door.

“Uh yeah, same goes for you”, you said as you got up.

You put your beer down on the coffee table. You knew bringing your alcohol back with you would be a very dangerous mistake. Tom watched you as you walked to the door, his own heart aching in his chest too.

When he had made that deal with his girl, he hadn’t expected it to hurt you like this. In fact, he had never expected you to have feelings for him. Hell, he had thought that you and Haz would get together eventually, he loved the idea of his two best friends being together.

He had loved you too, the summer he had met you. The feelings had quickly turned into something platonic when he had realized you didn’t love him all those years ago, but now that you had confessed your love to him, he couldn’t help but to regret not saying something back then. Because today it was too late. He had moved on and he liked his new girl. A part of him knew that she was never going to be you but as he watched you leave he knew there was no turning back anyway.

When you were about to leave his apartment, you turned around and looked at him for one last time.

“Goodbye, Tom”, you softly said.

“Goodbye”, he replied.