#somethingwonderful

After taking a deep breath through your nose, you forced yourself to sit up in bed and a horrible feeling that you were going to die in about five minutes swept over you. This was it, this was the end of your drinking adventures. No more drinking… Ah, those famous last words. The disgusting feeling one gets after waking up after far too many cocktails was quite clearly present and you all but prayed that it would be over soon, whether that be the hangover or your life. You weren’t fussed. As long as your headache and nausea disappeared, you’d be happy with either outcome.

A high pitched squeal coming from outside the door made you frown and you rolled out of bed, keeping your bedding cocooned around your frail frame as you shuffled through to the living room. Olivia stood red-faced near the window, teeth sunk into her lower lip to try and deny the presence of a cheeky smile.

“Well now I know why you wouldn’t tell me his name,” she chuckled, looking across the room at you and then glanced back down at Tom, who lay sprawled across the couch, snoring quietly.

“And it’s also why you won’t be telling anyone,” you replied, voice thick and husky from singing along to the music all night. You stared at Tom for a moment and gave a faint smile at the state of him. You were in no state to judge; you were near enough in the same way.

Olivia got started on breakfast so you curled up on the smaller couch in front of the window, feeling sorry for yourself. You tried to rack your brain for any memories from the night before. The headache got worse the more you dug deeper. Your eyes scanned the room, seeing Tom’s boots that he’d kicked to the other side near the television. Your heels weren’t too far away and you frowned a little at the colour of the toes. What was on- Oh. It was vomit. Now you remembered. Tom had thrown up on your feet right after you’d nearly-

“Thank fuck you’re here.” Your head snapped back over to the occupant of the couch. Tom rubbed a hand over his face and gave a heavy sigh. “I thought I’d been kidnapped or something.”

“I’m not sure a kidnapper would leave you all alone to drool on the cushions,” you hummed, shaking your head a little.

He looked around tiredly and wiped the sleep from his eyes. His hair stuck up at all angles and there was the slightest hint of stubble on his jaw. “Did we-”

“No.”

“-do shots?”

“Oh. Right. Yeah. My treat, I guess,” you murmured, cheeks burning. You weren’t sure whether you were more nervous about the possibility of him meaning sex or just the kiss. Both ideas made your stomach flutter.

“They’re always my killer,” he grunted and curled into himself, mirroring your position. It was obvious how much he was dying and you’d never related to anything more.

“Was a fucking great night though,” you smirked. “We’ve got the hangovers to prove it.”

“You’ve got that right,” he agreed and fumbled around to find his phone, eventually pulling it from the back pocket of his trousers. He squinted slightly at the brightness of the screen as he read over the extortionate amount of missed calls and text messages. “Shit,” he muttered, raking his fingers through his hair and messing the curls up even more. “I was supposed to leave for the airport an hour ago.”

You waited for him to move, to start gathering his things, to run out the door. Your brows furrowed into a deep frown when he just stayed, fingers tapping rapidly at his screen as he typed out a message. “The plane won’t wait for you, you know,” you told him, pushing your hair from your face to tuck behind your ear.

“Yes, yes, I know that, I’m just trying to find out how I’m meant to get there in time.” He sat up and his face paled considerably at the swift movement, but he just took a deep breath to hold back the urge to throw up.

When his phone rang and he answered almost instantly, you headed into the kitchen to make a cup of tea for the both of you. Your parents had ingrained in your brain since your early years that tea fixed everything. You placed his mug on the coffee table in front of him and sat down with your own, sipping the hot liquid quietly.

“Yes, I know, I’m sorry,” Tom sighed into the phone, visibly frustrated. “It was just a few dri- I don’t know, Chelsea I think… Well, I don’t remember getting home, that’s how I don’t know where I am, Harry…”

You bit your lip to stop yourself from laughing and had to force yourself not to listen in case something broke you. Despite your brother being three years old, you were still well experienced in that kind of bickering only siblings could understand.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” he said with a small chuckle after saying goodbye to his brother. He reached over and took the cup of tea, taking a much needed gulp. “You’d think he was my mother or something with the way he treats me sometimes.”

“Just sounds like he’s looking out for you,” you shrugged, staring as he licked his lips after placing the mug back down on its coaster. “And it also sounds like you need to go. I’m sure you don’t need nor want another lecture if you actually do miss your flight.”

Tom nodded and stood, taking a moment to catch his balance before shoving on his boots. After double checking he had his wallet, keys and phone (although there was a huge temptation to leave it to avoid more calls and texts), you walked him down the short hallway to the front door.

“I really wish I wasn’t leaving today.” He fumbled with his keys in his hand and stayed standing in the doorway. He gave a half smile, the exhaustion evident in his eyes. “Maybe we could have gone out for food or something… Somewhere where we’d actually remember how it ends.”

The image of your almost kiss made its way into your mind, the memory near enough teasing you about what could have been. You glanced up at him and caught a glimmer in his eye. Did he remember? You cleared your throat quietly. “Yeah, well we can sort something for when you get back,” you suggested and tried to keep the hopefulness in your voice at bay.

“Or if you just happen to be hanging around America at any point in the next couple of weeks, just give me a shout,” Tom laughed and you couldn’t help the grin that lit up your face.

“I’m actually over there for another shoot soon so I guess we can go out then if we cross paths again.” You weren’t one to believe in fate, but what was the likelihood that you were both in another country at the same time in the middle of your busy schedules?

“Let me know when you’re over and I’ll see what I can do,” he winked and your eyes sparkled.

You shook your head and moved to start pushing him out onto the landing. “Well we’ll see about that, Holland. You’ve got work to do over there and that means you can’t miss this flight so off you go, go be a good little actor,” you teased and he snorted as he humoured you by moving away, though you knew your small frame barely did anything to force him out. He bent down to kiss your cheek, but gave a huff when his phone started ringing for the second time that morning. With another wink, he hurried off down the stairs, talking frantically to the person on the other end.

~*~

The two of you talked near enough on a constant basis. Whether that was through text, voice notes of stories just too long and exciting to type, FaceTime or the odd phone call that was usually cut short. It was strange. You knew more than likely that nothing would happen, that your lives were too busy for each other, but not one part of you wanted to end it. It felt like being back at school and getting excited every morning at the thought of seeing him again, except instead of giving a shy smile in the school corridor, you both sent ugly snapchats to each other as a way to wish one another good morning.

The time difference was difficult, that was to be expected. With Tom flying all over America and you staying in London for some home shoots, there were days where only a phone call would do, but those phone calls would last way over an hour. He’d tell you all about his day, about the fun him and the team were having. He’d tell you some of the crazy requests he’d been asked to do during interviews, all of which he’d happily complied. It was all in good nature and he loved showing off; it was all part of the job. When he’d catch himself excitedly recounting a funny story of what he, Zendaya and Jacob had gotten up to during their day of promoting, he’d ask how your day had been, the tone in his voice always giving away how genuinely interested he was. You’d let him in on the photoshoots you’d done and how much of your life work had taken over, and how you wouldn’t have it any other way. Luck had given you your break and you weren’t one to be ungrateful for the opportunity, no matter how much you craved just an extra ten minutes of free time.

When you eventually arrived in the States, the schedule of the shoot ended up changing to be spread out over a few days, which meant your plans with Tom had to be completely amended. The two of you had set a whole day aside to explore New York together and you’d even added notes to your phone of a number of places you wanted to eat at. All that had to be thrown out the window. Why were you so bothered? You’d spent one night getting drunk together which ultimately led him spending the night at your flat in another room. It wasn’t anything special. Yet you still couldn’t help the giddy feeling over seeing Tom for barely even half of what was originally planned.

You spent extra time on your makeup the morning you were finally getting to see Tom, and went through your whole suitcase as though there would be a completely new set of clothes that were better than the multiple pairs of black jeans you’d packed. As there was no other choice, you settled on a pair of black jeans and a simple t-shirt. Afterall, it was just breakfast. After zipping up your heeled boots, you headed out of your hotel room and hailed a taxi to meet Tom at Buvette over in the West Village.

Unlike the first time you’d met up, Tom arrived early and you saw him standing outside the building on his phone. You beamed at the sight of the young man, appreciating how tight his jeans were. “Hey, stranger,” you smiled, having to raise your voice slightly to be heard over the car horns on the busy road.

Tom looked up from his phone and grinned. He slipped his phone into his back pocket and reached over to pull you into a tight hug, erasing the worry that things would be awkward. “Hello, darling,” he hummed and gave your cheek a gentle kiss. “Long time no see.”

“We’ll save the catching up for later, I’m bloody starving!” you laughed and led him into the restaurant. A waiter brought you both to a table by the window and you took a moment to just people watch, making up your own stories in your head about what they were rushing around to do. Orders were taken and the food soon arrived. “Have you seen how much people love those photos from our shoot?” you asked after swallowing a mouthful of poached egg. “I posted a few the other day on Instagram and it’s safe to say you have a lot of, ah, imaginative fans,” you snorted and glanced up at him with a bold glint in your eye, catching the blush on his cheeks.

Tom shook his head and rolled his eyes. “I don’t read comments so wouldn’t know.”

“Yeah, I wish I could erase some of the comments from my memory.”

“It’s a talent I’ve come to master.” He pushed up his glasses before cutting into his waffles and dunked a large piece into the syrup. “I wish we had the whole day together. I even tried to move a couple things around.”

“The morning is better than nothing.”

“Yeah, but I wanted it to be a good date, not something we could do any day of the year.”

“Oh, so this is a date, huh?” you questioned, brow raised to go with the teasing smirk that graced your lips. It hadn’t been discussed, you’d just assumed you were catching up. Admittedly, it sounded like a date from the beginning with all the planning and the cute little food spots you’d planned to visit, but neither of you had given the day an official title. Was that too much of a pre-teen thought?

Tom’s eyes widened a little and he did near enough everything to avoid looking at you. “I, uh, well I mean… I just-”

“We’ll call it a date,” you giggled. “Just to please you.”

His soft laughter filled the room, the sound drowning out the morning chatter of workers grabbing a quick bite to eat before their long day. “We’ll make it a good one, I promise.”

Tom was definitely one to stick to his promise. After much protesting, you gave in and let him be the gentleman and allowed him to pay the bill before he whisked you away out into the hectic streets of New York. The heat from the sun hit your skin, the warmth hot enough to burn. It was an absolutely gorgeous day, something that helped you ignore the large amount of New Yorkers who shoved past you on their way to work without so much as an apology. There was something about early starts that almost always made people grumpy.

At the end of the street, Tom raised his arm to hail a taxi and you both climbed into the back seat. He handed the driver a note and told him to go to the address written.

“Where are we going?” you asked as you pulled the seat belt over your shoulder. The car took off barely a couple of seconds after the door slammed shut.

“It’s a surprise,” he replied with an excited grin that lit up his whole face. “You’ll like it. Well, I hope you will. It’s quite a way away, we’ve to go over the bridge, but it’s worth it, trust me. It’s somewhere I always go if I have spare time whenever I’m here.”

“Okay, well no pressure on me to like it then.”

“No, no pressure at all. Just know that if you hate it then you’ll have ruined the whole day for the both of us.”

The taxi zoomed through the city, cutting in front of near enough every other car on the road. It wouldn’t be New York without a taxi driver auditioning for the next Fast and Furious film.

Ever since you received your first disposable camera on your tenth birthday, you rarely went anywhere without one in your bag. Granted, there had been multiple upgrades since then, but the enthusiasm for shooting never faded. You pulled your camera from your backpack and clicked away, trying to get the best photos possible. Tom even appeared in a few, pulling faces when he caught you aiming the lense his way, though he did give a smile in a couple. That smile could have killed someone. You let Tom have a play, though gave a firm warning that it cost more than double your rent, which was incredibly high for a small flat in Chelsea, so if he broke it, he’d be coughing up the money. Your collection of cameras gave you a feeling of happiness you assumed parents felt about their children. Laughing at how protective you were over an inanimate object, Tom used some tips and tricks he’d been given from his brother Harry and shot some photos of the scenery that flew by, only stopping when the taxi pulled up outside the gates to Brooklyn Botanic Garden.

“There’s one back in the city, but this one’s quieter,” Tom explained as he followed you out of the car. “That’s one of the reasons I love it.”

To no surprise, after barely making it into the gardens, Tom was spotted. Thankfully, after a few photos and a couple minutes of chatting, the two of you were left alone to wander around the greenery.

“I have to say, I wasn’t expecting this,” you confessed, eyes glued to a butterfly fluttering mere inches from your face.

“What were you expecting, just a quick breakfast and a wave goodbye?”

“A wave is being generous,” you teased and bumped your shoulder against his arm. “I don’t know what I was expecting. Something a bit more… Rushed maybe? Just because I know you’ve got to be back by noon.”

“I wanted this to be special,” he replied in a quiet voice and gave a laugh. “I’m hoping this is memorable and not as a horrendous story you’ll tell your friends when you talk about the worst dates you’ve been on.”

“Oh you just had to go and ruin it, didn’t you?”

He grinned and after an almost unnoticeable hesitation, he slung an arm around your shoulders. Why did this feel so normal? Wasn’t it natural to go through an awkward phase of inwardly squealing about every glance or constantly wondering whether or not he was supposed to brush his hand against yours? In your defense, you hadn’t been in a relationship in two years and you’d matured quite a bit since then. Maybe this was what it was like to actually have a crush on someone in adulthood?

“It reminds me a bit of the Chelsea Flower Show,” you said after snapping a photo of some of the pink roses as the two of you strolled through the Cranford Rose Garden. “My grandparents used to let me tag along when I was younger.” You caught the smirk on Tom’s face and held a hand up before he could say anything. “Yes, yes, I know. I’m aware of how much of a posh totty that makes me sound…”

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” he laughed, giving your shoulder a squeeze. “We don’t choose where we come from and the privileges we have.”

“Hey, my family worked hard for what we have and I don’t live off that-”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said quickly. Your frown eased slightly. “You’re speaking to someone who completely understands the judgement. And anyway, I can relate to wanting to earn and live off your own money.”

“Okay, okay, let’s both stop with the compliments and be actual normal people,” you laughed and Tom grabbed the camera from your hands. His tongue poked out between his lips as he focused intently.

“What are you doing this next week?” he asked, not looking up from flicking through the camera roll to see if any could be put up against yours.

“Well I’ll be back home so I’m not sure. Why?”

“How do you feel about staying for a bit longer?” He stood up straighter and pushed his glasses up his nose. He offered a smile. “Change your flight. Stay another week. What’ve you got to lose?”

He wanted you to stay. Were things moving too fast? You didn’t care. Staying an extra week with Tom was a whole lot better than spending it at home trying to find the best time to call with a five hour time difference. Just like Tom said, what did you have to lose?

Join my tag list!

You had done enough shoots where the cover star had been quite the diva that it had gotten to the point where you always half expected it. Of course, a great number of people had proven you wrong, but judging was a hard habit to break. You had never been introduced to Tom before and from what you’d heard, he was a lovely guy who hadn’t let fame go to his head. Yet.

“No, Warren’s just doing the last touches I think,” Carter said, leaning over your shoulder to read the question you were writing. He laughed and took his notebook back after your piece of paper had been ripped from the book to be folded into the hat. “That one’s gonna cause a stir with the fans if he answers it!”

“Well there’s nothing wrong with a bit of drama,” you grinned wickedly and gave Carter a wink as he headed back into the rented house to set his own camera up to film the short video once you’d finished with Tom yourself.

The sound of laughter made you look up a few minutes later and you hastily tossed a shirt over one of the sunloungers, finishing off your touch to the set. Carter made his way back over, followed by Tom. You had to double take, caught slightly off guard by the sun hitting his golden tan, making him shimmer slightly. Well, there was no denying he was gorgeous. 

“And this is [Y/N]. She’ll be the one bossing you about for the day.”

You shook your head and gave Tom a warm smile. “Just look good for the camera and no bossing about will be needed,” you smirked. “I’m sure you won’t struggle with that anyway. Right, let’s get started.”

Tom was a complete natural. He eased into the shoot in no time, effortlessly pulling off his poses. In fact, it was quite distracting. During your time as a professional photographer, you had come across incredibly good looking men, but there was just something about Tom that stood out. His personality shone through in the photos and you took some great ones of him laughing. Those were your favourites.

“You wanna have a break before the next outfit change?” you asked, wiping the sweat from your forehead. You loved the heat, but boy was it scorching. You put your camera down next to your laptop and found the snack table, grabbing a plate to fill with sliced watermelon. “I think we’ll go inside for the next ones,” you said, glancing up at Tom who had come to take some food too. “I don’t know about you, but I’m just about dying in this heat.”

Tom laughed and nodded. “Yeah, I don’t think photos of me drenched in sweat will look that great.” He reached over to pick a handful of strawberries and your cheeks warmed at the sight of his chest in front of your face, very much dripping with sweat.

“Well, I beg to differ,” you found yourself saying, then gave a chuckle to brush the comment away. “There’s towels inside if you want to wipe yourself down.”

“How long have you been doing this?” asked Tom as you both made your way inside, instantly feeling the cool air from the fans in the corner. He popped a strawberry into his mouth and swiped one of the hand towels from a table. “You just seem a bit young, no offence.”

You shrugged a shoulder and told him no offence was taken. “I’ll actually be twenty-one this weekend. You’re not the first one to question my age,” you hummed, joining him on the couch. “I’m just lucky to catch a break so early, I guess. I’m sure you can say the same.”

His face lit up and he smiled softly. “I’m just waiting for it all to fall apart,” he admitted and, catching your small frown, quickly added, “I know I’m lucky and being Spider-Man is… Well it’s awesome! It doesn’t seem real sometimes, is what I’m saying.”

It was refreshing to hear his humbleness. “Are you used to the attention yet? I think just about everyone wants a piece of you. I mean, we had to fight to shoot this cover!”

The comment made him laugh and he shook his head. “Well I better make it worth it!” He pulled a leg up onto the couch as he relaxed into the cushions. “I don’t mind it actually. It’s part of the job, isn’t it? I’ve had moments where I’ve freaked out and I start to question how I’m going to live this life,” he told you, eyes a little wide. “But I’ve met some great friends on set, like Zendaya. The amount of times I’ve rang her in a panic! She’s so good at handling it and is so good at talking me through all this.”

“Are you and Zendaya…?”

“What? No! She’s just one of my best friends.”

“Don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone answer a question so fast,” you teased, unable to hide your smirk. You raised a brow and laughed softly at his flushed cheeks. “I’m just messing with you,” you snorted and gave his shoulder a gentle shove.

His smile made your stomach flutter and you focused on your snack to try and hide the way your cheeks reddened, but you could still feel his dark eyes lingering on your face. 

“You’ve got a bit of…” Tom gestured to his chin. “Juice.”

Your head shot up and you frowned before wiping your chin quickly with the back of your hand. “God, remind me never to eat melon again when there’s company,” you muttered, almost entirely sure your skin had turned as red as a tomato. 

“Maybe you should be the one with the towel.” His laugh was infectious and you found yourself easily joining in.

The photoshoot soon picked up again before you lost the light from the setting sun. A golden hue illuminated the rooms, only making it harder for you not to get distracted by the man you were photographing. A part of you wished it was the middle of winter just because it would mean Tom would actually have a top on. He changed into a few different outfits, from a deep blue, loose pyjama style suit to a proper shirt and jacket that he must have been roasting in. You continued to snap away when everyone took another break to munch on the Chinese takeaway one of the guys had ordered, taking some of your favourite photos of him joking around with the guys. 

Eventually, when you ran out of charge on both your spare batteries, the camera was put down and you all settled in the living room to start recording the special snippet with Tom.

“You look so worried,” you noted with a smirk as the actor got comfortable on the couch in front of the tripod. You leaned back against the dining table just behind the camera and sneakily looked him up and down. Blue was definitely his colour. 

“Alright, just introduce yourself whenever you’re ready and we’ll go from there,” Carter nodded and gave Tom a quick thumbs up to let him know the camera began recording.

It was clear that Tom had done a lot of videos like this before, coming off at ease with the introduction and then he began to pick questions from the hat on his lap. Carter’s was the first to be answered and you couldn’t help but smile at his answer. You weren’t expecting Winston Churchill. He kept finding you as he spoke, barely looking at the camera.

“‘Kill or keep’,” Tom read aloud after picking another piece of paper and visibly cringed at the question. “‘Tobey Maguire or Andrew Garfield?’ Who put that one in there?” he asked, scanning the small amount of people in the room. His eyes found you and you gave him a sheepish grin, your own eyes sparkling. He shook his head and returned your smile as he stretched his arm over the back of the couch. “Oh, that’s a tough one… I’m gonna have to say Andrew Garfield because… I love him and he’s killing it right now.”

A few more questions were picked out and answered, one particular response going off on a tangent about not being able to chop off a nipple-sized penis. You weren’t in charge of editing the video, but you knew for sure some of his explanation wasn’t GQ-friendly and would have to be cut. 

“I can’t believe you made me pick between each Spider-Man,” Tom said, coming up behind you as you packed away your laptop. “I still feel so torn about it!”

“Yeah, well life’s full of tough decisions. I just don’t know how Tobey will take the news you think he’s a shit Spider-Man.” 

“If I’d said Andrew, he would have killed me,’ he replied, chuckling gently. He watched you zip up your bags and nibbled lightly on his lower lip. “What are you doing this weekend? For your birthday, I mean,” he said, trying his best to sound casual.

You pursed your lips to hold back a smile. “No idea. I was supposed to be going out with my flatmate for a few drinks since I go back home tomorrow, but I don’t know how long it’ll take me to edit all these photos. Deadlines aren’t put on hold because it’s my birthday,” you shrugged and pulled your bag up over your shoulder.

“Oh. Right. Well you should definitely go out for drinks,” he nodded, running his fingers through his soft curls. “I just thought… Well if your flatmate’s busy for whatever reason, I could always, well, take you out. I’m flying home tonight so I’ll be there for a few days and it’s a big birthday after all and you don’t wanna waste it editing some shit photos - not that I’m saying they’re shit, I just mean-”

“We can go for a drink or two,” you interrupted, his rambling giving you those damned butterflies again. “How about I text you and we’ll sort something, yeah?”

Were you really asking for his number? Were you that predictable to do what pretty much any girl would kill for?

“Yeah, sounds great to me,” he nodded quickly and took the phone you offered to type in his number. 

“Well we’ll sort something out, but I’ve got to get going. If I plan on getting drunk with Spider-Man, I should start on these edits as soon as possible.”

You resisted the urge to lean up to give his cheek a kiss and instead went with an incredibly lame wave on your way out of the house. The thought of seeing him again in just a few days got you incredibly excited. Saturday really couldn’t come quick enough.

A/N: Credit for photographer idea goes to Anna. Read her fics, they’re bomb.

The second Tom’s lips touched yours, you just knew from that point onwards, you were his. It was like every kiss you’d ever had in the past was wrong and this one was making up for all those mistakes, taunting and showing you what you’d been missing out on. His lips were like a drug and it scared you how much you craved them, already wanting more before this fix was even over.

His tongue slipped into your mouth, gentle but demanding all the same. You gasped quietly. Every inch of your body dissolved into his. He pushed his weight onto you as your hands found their way into his hair, tugging on the thick curls. He gave a groan and you smiled against his lips; it immediately became one of your favourite sounds. His hand slid down your side, grabbing your hip, your leg, your bum - anything he could get a hold of. He pulled you closer, pressing his hips against you.

“Wait, Tom, wait,” you whispered hurriedly, though couldn’t bring yourself to break away from his glorious lips.

He moved back slightly. You could still feel his breath on your skin, but the sudden parting made you feel cold. “What’s wrong?” he asked quietly and you were thankful for the lack of light just so you couldn’t see the hurt on his face that was evident in his voice. “Did I… Should I not have-”

“What? No, no, it’s not that,” you interrupted, absently twirling a curl at the nape of his neck around your fingers. “I just… I just don’t want this to be a one night stand. I don’t want to go home regretting this.”

“I don’t want this to be a one night stand either,” he replied and gave you a chaste kiss on the lips before sitting up. He reached over to the bedside table and turned on the lamp. “I wasn’t planning on taking it that far, as much as I want to,” he sighed and ran a hand over his flushed face as he shot you a wicked smile.

“Oh I know you want to, I could feel how much you want to against my hip,” you snorted and chanced a glance down at his crotch. The strain against his boxers made your mouth water, but you knew it was the best decision to stop things before they went too far.

“I can’t control it,” he laughed and shook his head, grinning now. The redness of his cheeks deepened and you could only imagine how flustered you looked in comparison. “But you’re right, we’ll stop.” His dark eyes scanned the room and landed on the pillows scattered across the floor. “Want me to build the wall again?”

“I’m sure we’ll manage to control ourselves.”

“I know I will, I just don’t know if I can trust you,” he smirked, sending you a wink. As you rolled your eyes, he leaned over to turn the light off again before getting comfortable in bed next to you. After a brief pause, he rolled over and pulled you into his chest, spooning you without a word. Despite the sudden pent up frustration that would only be solved by the man whose arms you were in, you had one of the best nights’ sleep in a long time.

You could hear the squeal of laughter from your little brother before you’d even managed to get to the house, the sound loud enough to make it two houses down the street. It had been weeks since you’d seen them, maybe even a month. Life had just gotten in the way. It was hard, even though you did only live a few miles apart. Letting yourself into the townhouse, you sang a hello and grinned at the little boy who instantly came running through into the hallway, throwing himself at you. “Hey, little man,” you beamed and pressed a kiss into his curly mop of brown hair. You lifted him up a little higher and groaned quietly. “God, you’re getting heavy, Oliver. Soon you’ll be bigger than me!”

“Daddy says that,” he giggled and tightened his arms around your neck, almost cutting off your oxygen supply as he hugged you.

“Olly, don’t smother her.” Your mother, Julia, appeared and wrapped you up in a gentle hug as though to show Olly that not everything needed squeezing like a pimple. “It’s been a while, love.”

“Well you know how work gets sometimes,” you hummed and carried Olly back into the front room, setting him down on the couch that was piled with his toys and books. “Dad working?”

“Yeah, he’s got a big case on at the minute,” Julia said and gave a nod in the direction of the hallway, telling you he was in his office. “I wouldn’t go in yet though, I got an earful for bringing him a cup of tea. He said I was distracting him.”

You smiled and shook your head a little. It was always best to leave your father alone when he was busy on a case to avoid getting your head bitten off. Daniel had been a criminal lawyer since way before you’d been brought home and yet after all this time, he still had trouble separating his work life from his private one. Once he got a case, that’s all he cared about. Of course, he wasn’t completely inhumane and forced himself an hour away to do Oliver’s bedtime routine every night without fail. So you could forgive him for that.

You mother, on the other hand, had always made time for her children. She’d even given up her job when she found out she was pregnant with Olly. He wasn’t expected at all, what with Julia having suffered through a horrendous amount of miscarriages for years previously, so she’d decided to take the time to rest in fear of anything blowing the good luck. The original plan had been for her to start looking for jobs when he turned one, but he was now three and she’d yet to send a single application.

“I’m half expecting him to shout about me closing the front door being a big distraction,” you chuckled and sat on the couch to let Olly drive a toy truck along your thigh.

“Wouldn’t surprise me. So, what’s been keeping you so busy these days?” Julia took a seat on the recliner, relaxing into the cushion. “Nothing to do with a boy, is it?” The twinkle in her eye and smirk on her face made your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

“Mum!” Even though you were a grown woman, there was nothing like the humiliation of a mother wanting to discuss boys with her daughter.

“Olivia popped in the other day,” she explained, chuckling gently. “She was passing and stayed for a bit and just happened to mention you gallivanting around America with a boy. She refused to tell me about him, though. Promised you she wouldn’t say anything, she said.”

“I wasn’t gallivanting.”

“Do I at least get a name?”

“Alright, his name’s Tom,” you murmured, coming up with a plan to murder Olivia without leaving any kind of evidence that would lead back to you. An afternoon with your father’s files would surely help you with that. “We met when I did that shoot for GQ, the one over in California.”

“Wait… Tom… Tom… Why does that sound familiar?” Julia asked and frowned a little. “Wait, is it this Tom?” She got up and went into the kitchen, returning a moment later with the magazine. You’d forgotten it went to print this month.

“Why do you have this?” you asked, avoiding her question.

“We always keep your work.”

The comment brought a smile to your face and you took the magazine, staring at the handsome actor on the cover. His curls were gelled slightly but the wind had caused them to mess up, making him look even cuter. You could remember him moaning about having to wear a leather jacket in the heat, only shutting up after you threatened to photoshop devil horns onto the images. Feeling the questioning gaze of your mother, you looked up at her and then gave a quiet sigh. “Okay, yes it’s him. He was working over in America the same time I was, he was doing some press stuff, so I just extended my stay.”

“He must be a keeper then for you to do that,” Julia smirked and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

“He’s nice, Mum,” you told her and tossed the magazine onto the wooden coffee table. “We’ve seen each other a few times, I think I’m seeing him again this week at some point when he’s gotten over the jet lag.”

“Why don’t you invite him over for dinner?”

“Mum, I’ve not even been out to dinner with him yet. Give us a chance.”

“Well what were you doing while you were over the- Actually, don’t tell me, I don’t want to know!”

“We weren’t doing that!” you squeaked and buried your face in Olly’s hair to hide your flaming cheeks. He giggled quietly and took the opportunity to wrap you up in another tight hug. “We didn’t actually spend that much time together. He was working a lot… We went out for lunch one of the days, but it was a bit rushed since he had leave for an interview. The only dinner we’ve actually had is a burrito in the car. Nothing particularly… Romantic.”

“What weren’t you doing?” Olly asked innocently, looking up at you with his big brown eyes.

“We weren’t buying you presents, that’s what,” you replied and tapped his nose. “But I’ll make up for it. How about we go shopping? I’ll buy you whatever you want, within reason.”

His face lit up with a big grin and he jumped up on the couch before pouncing, happily attacking you with a shriek. “Can I get a big car?” he asked, voice high and loud and clearly excited.

“As long as it’s a toy one, yes,” you promised and he hopped off the couch before running out of the room, barely slowing down when Julia shouted after him not to run in the house. You followed him up the stairs to his bedroom and pulled a woolly jumper over his t-shirt, then helped him into a pair of shiny yellow wellies. After zipping up his matching raincoat, you said goodbye to Julia and left the house hand in hand.

It didn’t take too long to get into the city centre, thankful you only had to catch one train instead of rushing around for multiple. Even though it was the middle of the week, it was still busy, but what else would expect from London? Keeping a tight hold of Olly’s hand, you wormed your way through the tourists and workers on their lunch break, eventually making it to Hamleys. As soon as you stepped through the doorway, screaming children and scolding parents could be heard. There were a number of birthday parties being held and as much as you loved children, you couldn’t think of anything worse to experience. Seeing the bored looking parents made you laugh quietly to yourself. With a promise not to run out of sight, Olly let go of your hand and headed straight over to the Lego, gazing up at the creations in amazement. The vibrations of your phone in your back pocket caught your attention and you pulled it out, smiling at the name on the screen.

“You not forgotten all about me yet?” you asked Tom and you couldn’t help but grin when you heard his laugh.

“Not yet, no. Maybe by the end of the week. We’ll see.”

“So to what do I owe the pleasure?” Keeping your eye on Olly, you moved over to sit on one of the empty chairs by the escalator. “I thought you’d be sleeping your jet lag off.”

“I thought so too but I wanted to see you instead,” he replied and your stomach flipped at the softness of his voice. Whether it was down to fatigue or genuine sentiment, you didn’t care. “So are you free?”

“Well I’m actually out with my brother at the minute,” you said. “I promised to buy him a toy but I can tell you now, he’ll definitely work a few more than one into the basket. He knows how to get his own way with me.”

Tom gave another hearty laugh. “That’s what kids are meant to do! But I can… I can, um, come meet you if you want?”

“What, really?” You hadn’t expected him to be up for shopping with your little brother. Well, you hadn’t actually expected him to call today since he only landed home the night before. “I mean, we’re literally just gonna be wanderi- Olly, come back please! Stay where I can see you.” You sighed a little and Tom chuckled quietly on the other end of the phone. “Sorry, he’s a bugger for walking off. But as I was saying, we’re just shopping for him and he tends to take about two hours deciding which socks he wants to wear in the mornings, so picking which toy he wants is gonna be a big one.”

“I don’t mind, I just want to see you.”

“Gosh, does being tired also make you incredibly needy?”

“I’m afraid so, [Y/N].”

“Well I suppose it’s something I’ll just have to deal with,” you smirked and got up from the chair when Olly ran off again. It was easier just to follow him than try and make him stay in one section for more than five minutes. “We’ll probably still be in Hamleys by the time you get here.”

“I won’t be long, I promise.” With a goodbye, he hung up and you slid your phone back into your pocket.

True to his word, Tom managed to find you just as you’d convinced Olly to go onto the next floor of the shop, sneakily steering him away from the ridiculously expensive teddy bears. He wasn’t much of a teddy person, but you didn’t want to risk getting persuaded into spending a month’s rent on a bear that would only collect dust at the end of his bed. Tom made his way over just as you tried to pull down a jigsaw from a shelf that was a little bit too high.

“Need any help?” came his voice from behind and you spun around with a grin. He reached up and grabbed the box. You held back your comment about him having to stand on his toes, too.

“What do you say, Olly?” you coaxed as Tom held out the puzzle box to the small boy.

“Thank you,” Olly whispered and instead of taking the jigsaw, he hugged your leg tightly and hid his face against your thigh.

You gave Tom an apologetic smile, but he just shook his head and crouched down to Olly’s height. “I don’t bite, I promise,” he said gently and placed the box down onto the floor between them. “I’m Tom, I’m your sister’s friend. She’s told me loads about you,” he grinned and Olly turned his head a little to glance at the stranger. “She’s told me how much you love cars. They’re pretty cool, huh?”

“Really cool,” Olly corrected quietly, making Tom’s face brighten. He loosened his grip on your leg and faced Tom properly, trusting him now more than anyone else in the world because he liked cars just as he did. He picked the jigsaw up from the floor and held it close to his chest. “Will you help me with this?”

“We have to pay for it first, Ol,” you chuckled and ruffled his hair before looking up at Tom, who’d stood back up straight. Despite speaking near enough all day every day and talking about everything from work to space conspiracy theories, all you could think to say was a soft, “Hi.”

“Hi,” he laughed and, much to Olly’s disgust, leaned over to give you a peck on the lips.

“Mummy says we don’t kiss friends,” Olly spoke up, looking between the two of you with a slight frown.

“Tom’s a special friend,” you explained and gave his curls another ruffle. “Why don’t you see if you can go find another toy? One more and that’s it.” As Olly hurried over to the Toy Story figurines, you pulled Tom into a tight hug. God, you’d missed him. The feeling of his arms wrapped around your waist was something you loved and couldn’t even begin to picture yourself in anyone else’s.

“Olly’s cute,” Tom smiled when you finally forced yourself to move back. “He’s got your eyes.”

“Okay, now I know you’re just being polite,” you snorted and gave his shoulder a light shove. The confused look that crossed his features made you laugh. “Come on, I know you weren’t expecting him to look like that. In fact, I’m surprised I didn’t catch that look sooner that everyone always has when they meet him, or anyone else in my family.”

“What d’you mean?” he asked, though it was pretty obvious he completely understood what you were talking about.

“He’s not my biological brother,” you hummed and leaned back against a table of toys, crossing your arms loosely over your chest. “The stark contrast of skin colour sort of gives it away. Well, I suppose he could have been my half brother,” you shrugged. “But no. I’m actually adopted.” The second floor of a Hamleys wasn’t exactly the place you’d imagined having this conversation, but you were so comfortable with the subject that it wasn’t an issue.

“Adopted? How come you never mentioned it?” he asked and you caught the look in his eye that you hated, the one that you used to receive all the time when children in school would question your parentage. You’d always been aware of where you came from and it took you until your high school years to understand that not everyone would accept it straight away, and not instantly pity the poor little adopted girl.

“Because of that look you just gave me!” you laughed and held your hand up when he went to respond, “I’m used to it, don’t worry. I know it’s just a sort of reflex thing. I was around Olly’s age when Mum and Dad took me in, so I don’t know anything different. As far as I’m aware, they’re my real parents.”

His face softened and he went to reach for your hand, but Olly came running over, shouting excitedly about the Buzz Lightyear figure he’d found. His pudgy fingers took a hold of yours and using all his strength, he pulled you over to the shelves. After the hard decision of choosing which of the identical toys he wanted, Olly eventually picked “the best one” and threw it into the basket.

“Do you like superheroes, Olly?” Tom asked as you all carried on making your way through the aisles.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the question, though managed to hold your laugh back. Of course he’d ask about that. It wouldn’t be much of a surprise if he tried to convert Olly into Spider-Man’s number one fan.

“Capt’n ‘merica is cool!” Olly grinned and ran circles around you both, throwing punches in the air as though he was the hero himself.

Tom chuckled and stepped away from your side to join in the fun. He swiped a Captain America shield from the Marvel display and gave it to Olly, then grabbed one of the Thor hammers. “No one can beat the mighty Thor!” he proclaimed, deepening his voice. He slowly aimed the hammer at the shield and dramatically threw himself back a couple feet when the plastic collided. He’d been defeated.

“Gosh, it’s like looking after two children! And it also looks like Captain America is the best of all the Avengers,” you smirked and high fived Olly. “Maybe even better than Spider-Man.”

“What? That’s not true!” You couldn’t tell whether Tom was really offended or not, and that’s what made you laugh harder. “Olly, who’s better: Spider-Man or Captain America?”

“Capt’n ‘merica,” the boy replied without a second thought, hugging the shield close.

“I beg to differ,” he mumbled with a pout.

“I’m sure the opinion of a three year old who’s only seen about ten minutes total of the whole franchise really matters to you,” you teased and reached over to pat his cheek. He replaced his pout with a grin and finally took a hold of your hand, slipping his fingers between yours as you walked over to pay for Olly’s new toys.

“Hey, hey, what are you doing?” you asked as soon as you saw Tom take out his wallet after the toys had been scanned and packed away in a bag.

“Um, paying?”

“No you’re not. Put your wallet away.”

“But he destroyed me in a fight, it’s only fair.”

Unable to argue back, you gave a heavy sigh and put your purse back in your backpack. Tom paid for the toys and you left the shop with two bags and an extremely giddy child. The rain had stopped, but the sky was still painted grey, casting a gloomy shadow over the busy street. With Olly’s hand in yours and the bags in Tom’s, you headed left to follow the majority of the crowd.

“Now what do you say to Tom, Olly?” you asked, giving the singing boy a pointed look.

“Thank you, Tommy!” he grinned and began skipping along the pavement, the anticipation of playing with his new toys vibrating from his small body.

“Just don’t go fighting too many baddies, leave some for the rest of the Avengers,” Tom told him and Olly just nodded his head a little, though was barely listening.

“I need to take him back home,” you said to Tom, stopping on the pavement for a moment to let Olly pet a dog. The dog sniffed his hand and then scurried off. “You want to come back? We won’t be long and then afterwards… I don’t know, we could do something?”

Tom struggled to hide his smile and he nodded. “I know what we could do, but I’ll tell you later.”

All the way back to your parents’ house, you found it near enough impossible to stop wondering about what he had planned. He’d only been back in London since the night before, so that didn’t exactly give him plenty of time to plan anything big. Whatever it was, you knew it would be fun. After the three of you stepped off the train at the station, you took your time walking back to the house, laughing with Olly as he sang the wrong words to his favourite Disney songs. He begged and begged to be swung, so you each took a hold of his hands and lifted him high, swinging him over the puddles until you got to the garden fence. When he realised he was back home, he ran ahead and hurried inside.

“Don’t be so nervous,” you laughed, catching Tom’s brief look of fear that swept over his face. “God, what is it about meeting parents that makes people so scared?”

“I’m not scared, I’m just trying to think of the best escape route… You know, just in case.”

“You’ll be fine.” You reached over and squeezed his hand, then led him into the house. Olly could be heard in the living room, talking a million miles an hour about his day. Julia laughed as she listened to the boy’s story, already asking questions about his new toys, which just excited him even more. You looked at Tom and laughed at how terrified he seemed, then gave him a nudge, pushing him towards the living room.

“[Y/N], you’ve spoile- Oh, hello!” Julia chuckled when she spotted Tom standing awkwardly in the doorway. He was the last person she’d expected.

You gave him another push and followed him into the room, smiling a little sheepishly. “Mum, this is Tom. Tom, this is my mum Julia.”

“It’s really nice to meet you, Julia,” Tom said and pushed his nervousness aside as he smiled at the older woman. Was this how he dealt with new, uncomfortable situations, by putting his acting skills to the test? If so, he was doing brilliantly.

“And you too. Come in, stop standing there, you can sit down,” she said and nodded over at the couch. She’d cleaned up Olly’s toys since you’d been out, but Olly was beginning to make up for it by taking them all out of the toybox again, putting them back in their rightful place on the floor. He’d already forgotten about his new presents.

“Also, I didn’t spoil him,” you told Julia and took a seat next to Tom. “Tom wanted to treat him. Olly won him in a fight so that was the prize, though I’m pretty sure that wasn’t agreed upon beforehand.”

“Well it’s only fair for him to win something cool,” Tom chuckled, leaning back on the cushions. “Even if it wasn’t a Spider-Man costume.”

“I don’t like Spider-Man,” Olly piped up. He finished pulling all his toys from the box and looked around to decide which one he wanted to play with, then after a moment, scurried over to the newest additions.

“You don’t like Spider-Man? But he’s-”

“Are you really going to argue with a toddler?” you questioned, brow raised.

Tom gave a quiet sigh and visibly struggled to agree on how he’d respond, then his shoulders sagged a little in defeat. “No.”

“He changes his likes and dislikes every day, so I wouldn’t get too offended,” Julia laughed and got up from the chair to start packing away Olly’s abandoned toys. “Are you staying for dinner?”

“No, we’re actually gonna head off,” you replied. “Only came to pop in for a minute, I’ll come round for dinner next week. I’ll even bring food over.”

“Oh, well it was nice to see you, Tom, for all of two seconds,” Julia laughed and showed you both out, stopping at the front door to give you a hug and a kiss. “Maybe by next week she won’t be scared I’ll say something embarrassing and might actually bring you over for dinner, and let you stay for more than five minutes,” she said to Tom with a chuckle and, ever the hugger, wrapped Tom up in her arms briefly.

“You know I can hear you, right?” you hummed and they both laughed. “See you soon, Mum.” After another kiss, you waved goodbye and left the house with Tom. When you got to the train station, you followed him onto the right train, still having no idea where you were going now. Did he even know or was he just winging it? “So what are we doing?” you asked impatiently once your train took off.

“I’m surprised you managed to hold off asking until this point,” he laughed and stretched his legs out in front of him, relaxing in the seat. He looked out of the window. “I thought since you let me meet some of your family, why not let you meet mine?”

The colour drained from your face. That definitely wasn’t what you’d expected. Why didn’t he let you prepare, to at least change your outfit so you didn’t smell of the city? Had he forgotten about you wanting to wait? Neither of you had actually discussed what sort of relationship you had, if any, so was now really the best time to meet his family?

“And you told me not to be scared.”

You looked up from your hands to see him grinning cheekily. “I’m not scared.”

“You look like you’re about to pass out! I just thought I’d give you warning instead of just throwing you in at the deep end, and just so you know, she’s the most important woman in my life.”

“What? You can’t do that to me! I need at least a week’s notice!”

“And her opinion matter most to me,” he continued as though you hadn’t uttered a word. “I’ve brought home a few girls in the past who she really didn’t like and I just… I don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t get along with her.”

Of course you could understand that. If a guy you brought home didn’t get on with your mum, that would be a huge issue for you. You prayed you clicked with his mum. “Well I’ll be on my best behaviour.”

“I’ll make sure she’s on hers.”

You continued to quiz Tom for the rest of the journey, but he gave absolutely nothing away. No tips, hints or tricks on how to make the best first impression. Nothing. And it frustrated you to no end. You pictured his mother laughing at the sight of you, telling her son that he was crazy for even thinking about bringing you home to meet her. Then he’d join in, both knowing he was far too good for you. Yeah, that’s exactly what would happen. There was no doubt about it. Your questioning didn’t halt when the train did, and you carried on questioning him as you walked along the streets. You didn’t even notice he’d stopped until you bumped into his back mid-sentence.

“Home sweet home,” he winked and skipped up the few steps to the front door. When he slipped the key into the lock, he paused and turned back to you. “Now don’t be nervous, I’m sure she’ll love you.”

You took a quiet, deep breath as he pushed the door open and you followed him inside the house. Scratching on the wooden floor could be heard and within seconds of Tom shutting the door behind you, a small dog came scurrying into the hallway. She barked excitedly, tail wagging so hard that her whole body shook. The ecstatic dog jumped up against Tom’s leg and he bent down to scratch her ears and give her a cuddle.

“[Y/N], meet Tessa,” he grinned and started rubbing Tessa’s belly on the floor. She continued wiggling around, unsure of whether she wanted to be petted or hugged more.

You stared at the couple. The love between them could almost be physically felt, but you looked between Tom and Tessa in confusion. “Wait, this is who I’m meeting?” you asked and suddenly burst out laughing. He grinned up at you. “This is the most important woman in your life?”

“Well yeah. You didn’t think I meant anyone else, did you?” His grin turned into a sly smirk and you wanted to slap him and kiss him and just laugh. You stuck with the latter.

Tessa scrambled up as though she only just noticed your presence and bounded over to sniff your legs. When she decided you smelled good enough, she barked happily and, chuckling softly, you knelt down to give her a proper greeting. For as long as you could remember, Staffy’s had been one of those breeds that people warned others to stay away from, that they were dangerous and shouldn’t be kept as pets, but Tessa proved all those idiots wrong. She was so friendly and seemed to want to give as much love as she could.

“She’s gorgeous,” you beamed and sat down on the floor. Tessa whined and shuffled closer, pushing her nose under your hand so you’d get back to scratching her. “And needy.”

“She just loves her cuddles,” he said and stood watching you with a warm smile that lit up his entire face. “I do have a couch, you know. I’ve heard it’s comfier than the floor, but whatever floats your boat.”

“Come on, Tessa!” you grinned and pushed yourself up, much to the dog’s disappointment. She ran after you into the other room and jumped up on the couch to curl into your side, completely content with her new found friend.

“I didn’t think I’d actually feel jealous.” Tom relaxed by your feet and tried to get Tessa to go to him, but she was having none of it. “Okay, I might just have to kick you out, you can’t steal my Tessa away from me!”

“Well can you blame her?” you laughed and stretched your legs out over his lap.

“No, I really can’t.”

Being in Tom’s home added a whole new level to your relationship. It was like seeing a side of him that barely anyone else saw, only those close to him. Framed family photos stood along the fireplace and a small stack of scripts and books sat on the coffee table between the couch and television, which he’d switched on to show New Girl (“It’s my guilty pleasure, don’t give me that look.”). Tessa’s bed had been placed in front of the fireplace, though clearly she wasn’t shy about settling on the couch instead. There wasn’t much clutter, it was nice and tidy, but still completely Tom.

“Do you mind if I ask about your parents?”

The curtains had been closed, a Chinese takeaway had been ordered and you’d watched so many episodes of New Girl that you’d told Netflix two times that yes, you were still watching. During each episode, you’d shifted positions so that eventually you lay curled up against his side with his arm wrapped snugly around your shoulders. Tessa moved whenever you did until she settled in the space between your bent legs and bum. It was easy and it was comfortable and it felt so normal. The conversation flowed easily and you didn’t even have to think about holding anything back. When he brought up that question, you looked over at him and shrugged a shoulder, inviting him to continue.

“How come… No, that sounds horrible,” he frowned and shook his head, trying to come up with a better way to phrase his question. You knew exactly what he wanted to ask, only because you’d heard it so many times before.

“How come they adopted me when they could have a baby of their own?”

“It sounds horrible. I don’t mean it like that, you know I don’t.”

“I know, don’t worry. It’s something practically everyone wants to know,” you chuckled, not offended by any means. He relaxed at your reassurance and absently ran the tips of his fingers along your arm, tickling you lightly. “Mum was always told she couldn’t have kids,” you explained, snuggling Tessa a little closer. “They tried for years and years before they even thought of adopting. I think they’d thought of going down the surrogate route, but I don’t think Mum liked the idea of someone else carrying her baby. I guess with adoption you don’t see that, you’re just given the end product,” you chuckled. “But yeah, Olly was a big surprise. She found out she was pregnant on her forty-sixth birthday. Everyone thought she was crazy for going through with it, but he’s her little miracle baby,” you smiled and nudged your elbow against his side when he stopped tickling.

He got back to it. “Do you remember what it was like before your Mum and Dad?” he asked a little hesitantly.

“You don’t have to be shy about asking questions, I’m really okay with being adopted. It’s not like I can do anything about it,” you said. “But yeah, I remember a tiny bit. Not much since I was only three, but I remember my bedroom and some of the other kids. Not their faces, I just remember playing games and running around the house. Not much really and I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing.”

“It sounds like you had a good experience there, which is good.” The doorbell rang and after placing a kiss on the top of your head, he went to collect the food. He unpacked it in the kitchen and brought it all out to lay on the coffee table.

You leaned over and grabbed a prawn cracker to munch on, warming up your stomach for the feast while you piled up your plate with the goods. “Tom, do you think maybe we could-”

“Have a drink? Yeah, I’ve got a bottle of wine in the fridge.”

“Well, I was going to ask if we could talk, but I wouldn’t say no to that.”

“Alright, I guess we can talk, too,” he laughed and grabbed the bottle of wine, pouring you a glass before giving himself one. He sat back down and dug into his noodles.

“Okay, first thing’s first,” you started, pushing the beef around your plate. “Did I pass the dog test?”

“Pass it? I think she loves you more than she loves me, [Y/N].” At your smile, he placed his hand on your thigh, rubbing his thumb against you. It was comforting. “I really like you. I just wanted to make sure I’m not making a mistake… And I don’t think I am.”

“I might be a bit biased, but I don’t think you are either,” you grinned and leaned a little closer. His aftershave was delicious. His coffee coloured eyes shifted and stared at your lips and he smirked faintly before meeting you halfway. He kissed you gently, carefully, but it wasn’t what you wanted. Grabbing a fistful of his t-shirt, you pulled him closer. The kiss was hungry and needy and you tried to pour everything into it.

“No, definitely not,” came his whispered reply.

Boy, were you in trouble.

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