Palm Trees // th x fem!reader
Summary: You were starring alongside Scarlett Johansson in the new Black Widow movie, she’s a younger spy that Nat saves from the Red Room, trains her to be better. You meet Tom prior to the premiere of The Red Room and he agrees to be your date.
Part of my Drive North series. Based on the song Palm Trees by the SWMRs, listen to it while reading. As you will hear in the song, it discusses the corruption of Hollywood and younger more naive people being taken advantage of in the industry.
Warnings: brief sexual harassment (not Tom), angst
Word Count: 6.1K
Sarah! Sarah! Look over here! Sarah! Smile!” You hear people shout and you wave and grin as your security walks you inside Jimmy Kimmel’s studio. Your stage name, Sarah Winters was being called left and right.
You know that they were really waiting for Scarlett who would be arriving soon, but they knew a little about your role in the movie, they’ve seen the behind the scenes photos and they’ve seen the trailer, so they’ve got some idea of who you are.
You made your way inside, getting put in your own dressing room which was literally a dream, something you’ve been thinking about and hoping would happen since you were a little girl.
When Scarlett arrived she hugged you tight. When Jimmy asked you questions about the movie, you talked excitedly and animatedly, almost spoiling a huge plot point when Scarlett put her hand over your mouth.
“Looks like Holland’s gonna get a run for his money on the spoilers,” she laughs and you’re blushing, you totally knew what you could and couldn’t say but this was the first big, TV interview you’d ever done. You were just incredibly excited.
Later that night you posted some photos on your Instagram, the first one being a shot of Scarlett’s hand over your mouth with your eyes wide.
You laughed as you captioned it, “let’s play how to keep Y/N from spoiling the entire Black Widow movie”.
You posted it and as you got ready for bed, exhausted from the long day of press. Before falling asleep you saw some comments, most of them were funny, a lot were tagging Tom saying that you were coming for his title.
You saw a notification that Tom had commented on your post as well, probably because everyone kept tagging him.
tomholland2013: as spoiler king, you can be spoiler queen, no stealing my title
You rolled your eyes, blushing a little. You ignored the onslaught of people commenting, lots of those sideways glancing eye emojis, a few keyboard smashes. You’ve never even met the guy. A few moments later you noticed he had followed you. You wondered if he would be at the Black Widow premiere, then maybe you could meet him. Since before you were cast as the young woman who Natasha takes under her wing, you’ve always been a fan of Marvel movies, the smallest crush on the actor who played Spiderman. He was attractive, seemed nice enough, your age; what more could you ask for?
You sent a quick text to Scarlett, asking if other MCU actors would be at the premiere.
Scarlett: why? Hoping a certain someone might show up?
You: psshhh no I don’t know what you mean
Scarlett: Tom might be there, let me ask
You: no omg he’ll wanna know why you’re asking
Scarlett: no he won’t give me a second
You groan, putting your phone on the edge of the bedside table and trying to sleep.
You wake up the next morning by your alarm. You’ve got a flight to London to do one last round of press before the premiere in a week.
You shower quickly and toss on a comfortable sweatshirt and gym shorts before shoving your PJs into your suitcase, making sure you had everything from your hotel room. You make it to the car that was waiting for you on time, miraculously, before checking your phone.
You noticed a text from an unknown number and frowned, opening it as you got in the backseat.
“Airport?” The driver asks.
“Yes please, thank you!”
Unknown number: Hey so I heard you need a date to the Black Widow premiere.
You: sorry who is this?
You check your texts to Scarlett.
Scarlett: a certain someone may or may not have asked if you’re going with anyone to the premiere, told him you weren’t, think you might be interested in having him on your arm for the night
You: wait, like, Tom Holland , that’s who we’re talking about? No way you didn’t convince him out of pity
You’re heart is sort of racing as you wait for a response from Scarlett.
She sends back a screenshot of her conversation with Tom, her asking if he’s going to the premiere. Then him asking if you have a date. And Scarlett telling him you didn’t, but he better act fast and then she sent your phone number.
You quickly add the unknown number in your phone.
You: I mean, you don’t even know me like at all, what would make you want to be my date?
You’re shocked by how quickly he answers.
Tom: well I could get to know you.
You: you know everyone and their mother is freaking out about that insta comment of yours?
Tom: their mothers too? Quite nosy aren’t they?
Tom: So, when can I meet you? See if you’re truly the spoiler queen
You: I ALMOST say one thing and suddenly I’m the spoiler queen? At least I didn’t actually spoil any big plot points from the movie
Tom: fine fine you haven’t earned that title yet
Tom: you and Scarlett will be in London tomorrow right?
You: you stalking me?
Tom: no, just asked Scarlett
“Miss? We’re at the airport.”
You look up and sure enough your driver has pulled up to the airport. Someone opens the door, greeting themselves as your security, taking your suitcase from the trunk and offering to hold your backpack.
“I’m fine thank you,” you say as he walks you into the airport. Thankfully there aren’t any paparazzi or fans of Scarlett here, who was taking a later flight.
You check in and your suitcase is sent off before you go through security, Todd, the security person following you. He let you know he’d be with you until your flight and then when you landed in London there would be another person waiting for you.
This was all new to you, having security with you at airports, when you went to press events, the rare occasion of being recognized when you’re out and about.
You checked your phone again while waiting to board. It was a short wait, another thing you’ve never experienced, one was plane flights in general, the other was getting to be in first class. You felt so fancy you lost your mind the first time you flew with the cast to a filming location in Europe.
You waited for your seat location to be called, seeing another text from Tom.
Tom: I’ll be in London for the next few days, call me when you land
You gulp, quickly responding before boarding.
You: will do
The entire plane ride you attempt to sleep, try not to think of Tom fucking Holland asking you to call him. It doesn’t work. You sit there, watch movie after movie, trying to keep your mind off the boy. You gave up and put on Spiderman: Homecoming. You’ve seen it before so you let yourself get a little lost in the story, falling asleep about halfway through. You’re woken up by the rumble of the plane touching down.
***
You make it to your hotel with limited problems, you at first couldn’t find the security person waiting for you then realized he was holding a sign with your stage last name and not your real last name.
“Hi Miss Winters, I’ll be working with you while you’re in London, names Rick, shall we head to the hotel?”
“That’d be great, thank you,” you say, noting he’s already got your suitcase.
You see another text from Tom and blush as you sit in the car.
Tom: don’t wanna sound like a weirdo tho so ur totally not obligated to go out with me if you don’t want to
You: who said anything about going out?
Tom: I just meant, like to get to know each other before you whisk me away on the red carpet
You: I’ll see if I can sneak away from the hotel tonight, don’t have press until tomorrow
Tom: I could come to you
You: huh
Tom: we could hang in your hotel room, order room service, besides if we are out and about together the instagram comments would be the least of our problems
You: problems?
You frown, problems? You didn’t want to stir up trouble, you didn’t want to get death threats from teenagers over Tom either, considering you don’t even know the type of person he is, considering you’re just going to hang out.
Tom: well I’m just not really in the mood to be swarmed on the street by paps and fans and stuff
Tom: unless you wanna go out then we can, it’s whatever
You: no, no id much rather that not happen, hasn’t really happened to me yet and I’d prefer it to stay that way
Tom: after this you���ll be so famous you won’t know what to do with yourself
You laugh to yourself, Randy glancing at you.
You: highly doubt I’ll be loved nearly as much as you are
Tom: nonsense
You: I’ll be at The Savoy hotel, you know it?
Tom: I can use google
You: idk I heard you were pretty bad with technology
Tom: you’re right, google and texting are the only two things I feel 100% sure I can do
“Miss Winters? We’re at the hotel. Your schedule for the next few days should be in your email. You have the rest of the day off though.”
You nod, time zones were messing with your head, “what time is it right now?”
“10am.”
“Thank you,” you say as you both get out of the car. You check into your room and thank Rick for your suitcase.
You toss your backpack and suitcase down before flopping onto the bed, checking your phone.
Tom: are you at the hotel now?
You: yea
Tom: ok
You checked out the room service food, realizing since you slept on your flight you were starving. You decide to order pizza even though it’s early, you called and they said they could get some delivered from a local shop. You check your phone and see that Tom texted you again.
Tom: on my way, what’s your room #
You: 413
Oh, he was already on his way, shit. You practically jump out of bed and open your suitcase. You know it shouldn’t matter what you wear. But you change out of your oversized sweatshirt into a plain white T-shirt, keeping your gym shorts on. You thank god that your job and press required you to shave. Because although you didn’t think anything would happen, you wanted to feel confident if it did.
You changed quickly and brushed your teeth, jumping back into bed. You grabbed your book, East of Eden, your favorite book, it’s had plenty of wear and tear since you’ve read it so many times but you couldn’t get rid of it or get yourself a new copy.
You picked up where you left off, the story of young Adam Trask and his brother Charles, arguably your favorite and the best part of the book, seeing the dynamic between the two of them, then seeing how Adam grows for the rest of the book.
The door rang as you finished the chapter. You set the book upside down and grabbed your wallet, you checked through the peephole to confirm it was your pizza, as if on cue your stomach was rumbling. You thanked the person and tipped them, the pizza charged to your room.
You settled back into your bed, about to open the pizza when your doorbell rang again. You got up and looked through the peephole.
Tom was standing outside your room, hands in the pockets of sweatpants he was wearing, paired with what looked like an oversized hoodie. Okay, maybe you weren’t underdressed previously. You opened the door, leaning against the frame.
“Hi spoiler king,” you grin.
“Nice to finally meet you spoiler queen.”
“Finally?”
“Yeah, been wanting to meet you since you started filming Black Widow.”
“Didn’t know you knew I existed until a few days ago.”
“Well, surprise,” he laughs, shrugging, “you gonna let me in or should we continue this conversation here?”
“Oh my god sorry I’m such an idiot, come on in,” you say, walking backwards into the room. You feel the heel of your foot hit the back of your suitcase and you can’t stop yourself from falling. Tom rushes forward and catches you, arm around your waist and pulling you back up.
“How in the world are you playing this super spy when you trip over a suitcase?”
You chuckle, blushing as he helps you steady yourself, nudging your suitcase to the side as he closes the door.
“I play a super spy in training thank you very much,” you say as his hand leaves your waist and you quietly miss the feeling of his hand there.
“Well, guess you’re excused then.”
“Do you, want some pizza?” You ask, sitting on the edge of your bed and opening the box.
“Little early for pizza,” he observes.
“Haven’t eaten, in, oh god I don’t even remember, since the night before I got on the plane to come here from LA?” You say, stomach rumbling.
“Then I think you should dig right into that pizza,” Tom says, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you.
“Good plan,” you say, ignoring how awkward you feel and taking a bite of a slice. He grabs your book and reads the title.
“East of Eden, never read it before.”
“I mean I would act all offended because it’s my favorite book but I know that like not a lot of people who have read it. You should though, if you find the time.”
“Yeah this looks long and I’m way too dyslexic to read that without giving up halfway through.”
“Oh shit sorry I had no idea.”
“All good, kinda a running joke with my fans and people.”
“That you’re dyslexic?”
“Yeah,” he shrugs, thumb running through the pages.
You finish your pizza, watching his face as he reads the description on the back of the book.
“Stole it from 10th grade English class when I first read it,” you say before picking up another slice.
“Solid,” he laughs, looking at the list of last names written on the front cover along with the year, “Don’t see your name here Sarah.”
“That’s cause I didn’t have a stage name till I auditioned for Black Widow, name’s Y/N, Y/L/N,” you say, pointing to the last name put in the book.
“Oh, well nice to meet you Y/N, do you prefer that over Sarah?”
“Honestly, yeah.”
“Well, Y/N it is.”
You’re silent, you eating your pizza, Tom flipping through your book, laugh at some of the notes you have written in it.
“Cool if I have a piece?” he asks, setting your book down.
“All yours,” you say, gesturing to the pizza box sitting between you.
“So Y/N, how did you enjoy working on the movie? It was your first movie right? Know you beat out some names for the role.”
“Yeah, guess so, don’t know why.”
“Because you were best for the role, obviously.”
“Don’t know why they’d choose a nobody over people like Chloe Grace Moretz,” you shrugged.
“Because you, they saw potential in you, they also love to cast new faces, make newer actors famous,” he says.
Your mind starts to race with reasons why they might’ve cast you and you start to doubt your ability as an actress, because you’ve done theatre, been the lead in shows in your town and region but never movies or TV shows.
“Hey you know, I think you’re quite talented from the clips we’ve seen in trailers.”
“Uh, thanks,” you say, hand rubbing your neck, why are you so fucking awkward?
“So what kinda dress will you be wearing?”
“Huh?”
“To the premiere, so we can match.”
“Oh yeah, yeah lemme send you a picture of it,” you say. You were wearing a pretty dark red dress with black lace adorning the bodice.
“Sweet I’ll see what I can do about getting a matching tie and stuff.”
“Cool, you know it’s nice of you to uh, be my date,” you say, fiddling with your hands.
“Yeah, you know, wanted to see if you’d give me a run of my money.”
“With what?”
“Spoiling stuff.”
“Yeah,” you laugh, “don’t need to worry about that after the movie comes ou- FUCK.”
That definitely wasn’t something he should’ve heard.
You watch as he pieces what you just said together, “oh my god, hey even if that happens, well I think you’ve outdone me.”
“Listen at least I didn’t say that in front of a live audience or something.”
“What am I? A dead audience?”
“No, you’re just one person.”
“Ah that’s right, I don’t count.”
“Nope,” you say, tucking your legs underneath you.
You and Tom hang out and talk about filming, about the movie industry, about your favorite things, it felt like he learned everything about you in the time that you talked.
You stopped yourself a few times, apologizing for rambling.
“It’s fine, like to listen to you talk.”
At some point, you two had set the pizza box on the ground and were lying with your feet swinging off the edge of the bed.
“So, what about you? You excited for what’s to come for Spiderman?”
“Yeah, totally, I mean I want to branch out and do more movies, doing the voice stuff for Onward, the Pixar film; was really cool.”
“Have you done any auditions recently?”
“Some yeah, should hear about them soon.”
“That’s awesome. I honestly don’t know what I’m gonna do after this,” you groan, still unsure why you’re telling Tom any of this.
“Well did you enjoy your time on set? Did you enjoy acting in a film? Enjoy the people you worked with?”
“For the most part yeah,” you say, looking away.
“For the most part? Alright who do you hate? Which actor?”
“No, the actors are all great, I love them. Just, nah it’s stupid,” you sigh, because honestly you had no idea if what happened was weird, if it was out of the ordinary or if that’s just how it was.
“Nothing’s stupid, hey, I might be able to give you a tip to help deal with it.”
“Just, one of the ADs, Jack , he uh, he’d always hug me, like if I did a good job on a scene, he’d just like hug me really tight and uh, like sniff my hair, like press his face right into my hair and like not even ask me if he could hug me which I don’t know, I never stopped him from hugging me I just never hugged back but that’s stupid it’s a stupid thing to have a problem with.”
It’s quiet for a moment and you start to overthink and doubt yourself, doubt why you told him this story. Did Jack make you feel uncomfortable? Yes, absolutely but that’s just how it was, how you figured the industry worked.
“Did he do this in front of everyone?”
“Nah, just on my way back to my trailer or my hotel room or whatever.”
“Does Scarlett know?”
You sit up quickly, looking at him, “no, no she doesn’t. Nobody does it’s stupid I don’t know why I told you.”
“It’s not stupid Y/N, you know, if you want to talk to someone, you should. I can be that person if you want. But if you want you should tell someone higher up, they might be able to do something about it.”
“I don’t, it’s not worth it,” you sigh, laying back down.
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
“I’m sorry.”
“What are you sorry for?”
“Talking about this.”
“Don’t be.”
“Yeah?”
“Course, it’s just, I've seen a lot of people, young new people who don’t really have any idea of how this industry works, see them getting taken advantage of, whether it’s by asshole directors who don’t know how to teach young people, treat them like, I don’t know, like they’ve got some power over you.”
“Oh, well thanks I guess.”
There’s a very awkward tension now and you have literally no idea how to move past it.
“So now that you know all about me, what’s there to know about you?”
“Well, got three brothers, Harry and Sam are twins, and Paddy is a little younger than me. Got a dog, Tessa, she’s amazing, truly my favorite being on the planet.”
“God I wish I could have a dog, mom’s allergic.”
“You should meet Tessa sometime, she’s a sweetheart. Mum’s a photographer, dad does a bunch of stuff, comedy, writer, blogs, stuff like that.”
“I’d love that.”
You feel his hand brush against yours, meeting between your bodies.
“Oh, sorry,” he says as he feels your hand stiffen under his.
“No, it's just, why?”
“Why what?” He says as your hand holds his hand tightly.
“Why’d you do this?”
“How many times have I told ya Y/N.”
“Just, dunno why you’d care.”
“Can’t help it, I guess, you’re funny, at least from the interviews of you I’ve seen, and you’ve made me laugh bunch today.”
“Yeah counterbalance all the deep shit I told you.”
He laughs, thumb rubbing the skin of your hand, “see? Anyways, I should get going, supposed to have dinner with my brothers but I’ll see you later? Maybe we can hang out while you’re still in London, if you’re not busy being super famous and with press.”
“Yeah, we can always text too if I am. And I’ll see you at the premiere? You can always just not show up, never talk to me again if you don’t want to,” you say, watching as he gets up.
You follow him to the door and he turns to face you.
“Hmm, good offer but I don’t think I will.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah I think it’ll be much more fun to be your date than ditch you, plus I already know what’s gonna happen in the movie so we can sit and be not surprised together.”
“Sorry I spoiled it for ya,” you say, blushing.
“You’re fine, it was nice to meet you Y/N, I’ll see you later,” he says, you don’t even realize your hand is still in his until he lets go, leaving you alone in your hotel room.
“What is wrong with me?” You groan, jumping back into your bed.
****
You and Tom text throughout the week, a lot actually. Sometimes he’ll ask you random questions about your family, about your favorite place to eat back in your hometown.
You’re in a dressing room, just about to go for an interview when he texts you.
Tom: I love learning all this stuff about you, just wish I could hear you talk about it in person
You: why’s that?
Tom: because, when you’re really passionate about something you talk like really animatedly and it’s really fun to watch
You blush, having no idea how to respond you leave your phone there before making your way to the interview.
****
You’re on your way to the premiere, the flight from London just as long and exhausting as the last. You didn’t have much time when you got to LA to relax, you could put your suitcase in your hotel room and go straight to the premiere where you would spend the rest of your time getting ready. People were doing your hair, makeup, helping you into your dress, it was going to be a whole ordeal. For now, you had an hour to yourself in your dressing room, to relax, to breath, whatever you wanted. Tom let you know he’d be there in two or so hours, he didn’t have as much prep as you had. Basically just had to put on clothes and his hair would take less than half the time yours would.
You were nervous, your first premiere, first red carpet or whatever, your mom wouldn’t be able to make it, she was working, always working, but she sent you her love.
You were laying on the couch in your dressing room, scrolling through your twitter feed when you heard a knock on the door. Maybe it was Tom, you got your hopes up a little. Frowning at your leggings and baggy sweatshirt, you didn’t want him to see you until you were all dressed up.
You reluctantly got off the couch, opening the door.
“Oh hi,” you say, as you see Jack standing in front of you.
“Hi,” He smiles, “Can I come in?”
“What?”
“Just wanted to talk to you, congratulate you,” he says and you reluctantly step back from the door, letting him in. He closes the door behind him and you sit down on the couch, setting your phone on the dressing room table. What you didn’t see or hear was the click of the lock as he locked your door.
“You’re going to be a star Sarah, I can make you great,” he says, sitting next to you. His leg was right against yours and you shift away, body pressed up against the side of the sofa until his leg wasn’t touching yours. You didn’t mind that he called you by your stage name, you preferred it actually. That way everything he said wasn’t really directed to you, at least you could pretend it wasn’t.
“You? Why would you be the one to make you great?” You frown, that’s your job, audition, get your name out there.
“I know people, they’ll cast you, like I convinced them to.”
“Huh?”
“Saw something special,” he says, and you freeze when his hand rests on your shoulder, “could’ve cast anyone, any big name, but we chose you.” His hand moves to glide up your neck and cup your cheek and your mind is screaming at you, MOVE, SLAP HIM, RUN but you’ve slipped into panic mode, which for you meant you were frozen.
“Wanna make you Hollywood’s next leading lady,” He says, face so close to yours you can smell his very gross breath, your heart is beating out of your chest.
You’re trying to think of something, anything.
You remember something Tom had told you back in the hotel a week ago.
****
“Just, if he’s weird again, don’t just go along with it, push him away, tell him he’s a fucking coward, he doesn’t get to use his position of power over you.”
“I don’t know if that would work.”
“Just try it, okay? Just, don’t let him hold anything over your head.”
****
His lips are pressing against yours and that’s when you use all your strength, breaking from your panic to push him off you, hard enough that he ends up on the other end of the sofa as you jump up.
“Get up! Get out, now.”
****
Tom wanted to surprise you, so he arrived earlier than he said he would, your wrapped present in one hand, he found out where your dressing room would be and made his way to it, frowning when it was locked.
He was about to knock when he heard you, screaming.
“Get the fuck out!”
“Sarah, don’t do this, you’re going to regret this.”
“No, I won’t, I’ll only regret letting you be a fucking creep for this long.”
You and the AD are in a screaming match.
He tries to doorknob again, wanting to break it up before other people heard.
“Come here,” Tom hears the AD say before you yelp, and there’s a clattering and “I’ll blacklist you, no director will work with you. Fucking ungrateful.”
“If you don’t get out now, I will scream at the top of my lungs and tell everyone what just happened.”
“Bitch.”
****
Jack approached you, “come here.” You backed up into the table as he grabbed your arm tightly, causing you to yelp before he presses his lips hard against yours. Your other hand picks up your phone and your knees connects with his crotch as he let’s go of you and stumbles back before slamming you against the mirror, making you cry out as a sharp pain radiates from your head.
“I’ll blacklist you, no director will work with you. Fucking ungrateful.”
“If you don’t get out now, I will scream at the top of my lungs and tell everyone what just happened.”
“Bitch,” he mutters before unlocking the door, swinging it open.
You whimper, sliding down to the ground and gently touching the back of your head, tears welling up in your eyes as he slams the door shut behind him.
That’s not how you expected this to go down. Your eyes widen when you see a little blood on your fingers.
You vaguely hear a knock on the door but you ignore it, arms wrapped around your knees. What a great way to start your first premiere. You’re laughing as tears stream down your face, something that your mom always said was a bad habit of yours.
***
Tom hears the door unlock and he steps to the side, slipping into the hallway next to your dressing room.
“Fucking bitch, who does she think she is?” Jack mutters as he walks past Tom, not even noticing him.
Tom knocks on the door, hearing you crying hurt him, he hated hearing anyone cry. He heard you laughing, it was a laugh verging on hysterical and decided to go in and check on you, just in case.
***
“Y/N.”
You look up through watery eyes and see Tom standing in your doorway, a red gift bag in his hand, eyes wide.
“Fuck,” you say, head dropping back down as you cry.
He quickly closes the door behind him and kneels down next to you.
“Y/N, I, I heard, I’m so fucking sorry, I shouldn’t have eavesdropped but he’s gone now, are you okay? Shit question of course you’re not okay.”
“I’m fine,” you mumble, trying your hardest to smile up at him.
“You don’t have to smile, Y/N.”
“What?”
“Don’t haveta smile for me, you can cry if you want.”
You sniffle, the tears slowly stopping.
“I’m fine,” you repeat, wincing as the pounding in your head brings you back to reality.
“What’s wrong?” He asks, eyes full of concern.
“Just, hit my head a little, it’s nothing,” you say, your hand instinctively reaching for the back of your head to check if it was still bleeding.
“What the fuck did he do to you?” He asks, seeing the blood on your fingers.
“Just shoved me, it’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing, you’re bleeding, lemme get someone.”
“No, please Tom,” you say, voice barely above a whisper, pleading with him.
“Why don’t, why are you going to let this slide?”
“Because I can’t, he’s gonna, he’s gonna blacklist me, won’t get even a small cameo in a movie, he’s gonna ruin me.”
“Hey, no, he won’t, because you won’t let him. You stood up for yourself back there, I heard you. You won’t let him take away everything you’ve worked so hard for, and what you’ll continue to work hard for. Hey, let’s get some ice or something, clean up, see if you need to go to the hospital okay? Don’t want you passing out on me on your first premiere.”
“Promise you won’t tell anyone?”
“Not my story to tell, if you want to, when it’s time you can. There’ll be no pressure from me though,” he says as he helps you stand up. Your legs wobble a little bit and you’re afraid you’re going to fall but his arm is a comforting presence on your waist, steadying you. There’s no malintent in his touch as he soothes you, sitting you down on the couch.
You feel safe as he lets go, crouching down to open the small fridge, grabbing some ice from the freezer section.
“Here, turn around,” he says, nonchalantly ripping off a lower section of his shirt to wrap the ice in.
“Wh-,” you start, turning as his fingers sort through your hair.
“Just looks like a scrape, here,” he says, gently pressing his shirt with ice onto the area, hand rubbing your shoulder as you wince.
“Thank you,” you mumble, glancing at the bag he abandoned on the floor, “What’s that? Clothes all fit in there?”
He chuckles, “no, Issa present, for you, for your first premiere.”
“What? My, why's that, you already gave me a present you’re here with me.”
“Yeah but you deserve an actual present, here, hold the ice in place,” he says, palm over the top of your hand, moving it up to rest against the makeshift ice pack.
He reaches down and grabs the bag, pulling what looks like a wrapped book out of it.
“Was gonna give it to you little later but now’s perfect. Go ahead, open it,” he says, putting it on your lap and replacing your hand with his own on the ice pack.
You gently open the wrapping paper and gasp.
“This is, Tom you didn’t-,”
“Do you like it?”
“Of course I do, I mean, this is, wow this is the best gift anyone could have ever gotten me.”
“Well you only have a first premiere once,” he says, searching your eyes.
“I don’t, I don’t know how to thank you.”
“Don’t haveta thank me darling, why don’t we get ready for tonight?”
“Will, do you think we’ll see Jack?”
“He’d be an idiot not to show up, but hey, maybe you won’t run into him.”
“I like the sound of that,” you say, wiping your eyes.
“What did the stylists say they were going to do with your hair?”
“Think it was just gonna be curled, nothing fancy.”
“Okay well when they get here we’ll tell them no curling that part of your head.”
“Well then I’ll just look stupid.”
“Nah, you’ve got plenty of hair to go around up here,” he laughs, fingers running through the hair resting on your shoulder.
***
“Sarah! Tom! Smile for us! Look at you two!”
Photographers are shouting at them from up and down the red carpet, as Tom and Sarah walk, his arm gently resting on her waist, hers around his shoulder.
“You look lovely,” he whispers into your ear as you continue to walk.
“Not as handsome as you.”
He’s been saying nice things, whispering them to you all night, found it was the best way to make you smile, especially after what happened with Jack. You never did see him on the red carpet that night and didn’t bother asking anyone where he might be either.
***
“Wow,” you say, collapsing on the bed of your hotel room next to Tom.
“Fun right?” He asks.
“I mean, I wasn’t expecting such reactions from the crowd.”
“Yeah? Movie premiere crowds are always the rowdiest. But hey, they cheered, they laughed, they cried, you made one hell of a movie.”
“Guess so, I’m proud of it,” you sigh, gently opening the first edition copy of East of Eden, “how did you even find this?”
“I’ve got connections,” he smiles, watching as your eyes scan the first page, so different from your tattered copy from 10th grade.
“My 10th grade English teacher would lose her mind if I told her I had this. Scared to read from it, just wanna put it in a glass case and stare at it.”
“Well, it’s all yours so you can do anything you want with it.”
“Can’t believe this is all happening.”
“What is?”
“Everything, been my dream since I was a kid, to be famous, and well, yeah,” you sigh, not quite finding the words you’re looking for.
“You know, it might be, like, don’t feel obligated to say yes but would you maybe wanna, I don’t know, go on a date? Not now obviously, I think I could fall asleep right here but I’d like to take you out on a proper date.”
“Yeah? I mean the entire world already thinks we’re dating so sure, I don’t think a public date would hurt or help our cause.”
“Great,” you yawn, turning on your side.
“I should go, so you can sleep,” he says, standing up.
“Stay,” you mumble against your pillow.
He doesn’t respond and your heart almost drops, assuming he’s going to leave. Instead, he crawls into the bed, his arm hesitantly resting on your waist, until you scoot so your back is flush against his chest.
“Goodnight,” you whisper, exhaling, for the first time in over a year and a half you truly felt safe and comfortable falling asleep.
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Give Me a Reason (3/9)
<Part 1> <Part 2>
March 2013
Celestino insisted on carrying the majority of Yuuri and Phichit’s luggage up the stairs to their apartment. “You’ve earned it, boys,” he told them. “I’m so proud of you both.”
Yuuri frowned. He didn’t want to directly contradict his coach, and it was always awkward feeling bad about his own performance when Phichit hadn’t even made it past the short program, but fifteenth place was not what he’d worked so hard for all season.
Celestino was having none of it. “Did you skate your best?” he demanded. Yuuri muttered a grudging affirmative.
“What was that, Yuuri? I didn’t quite catch what you said.” Yuuri had hoped that Phichit would be fully engrossed with his hamsters by now, having made a beeline for their habitat the instant the door was unlocked. Apparently the universe wasn’t about to let him get that lucky.
He sighed heavily. “Yeah. I skated my best.” Maybe if he played along, they’d drop the subject. There was nothing else to do if they were determined to gang up on him, anyway.
“And did you improve on last year’s performance?”
“Yes.” Last year it had been Yuuri who had missed being in the top twenty-five. Phichit hadn’t even qualified for Worlds in 2012, ending his own season after a disappointing 4CC.
Celestino beamed as though that made it all better. “And that is why I am proud of you, and why you should be proud of yourself. Keep training as hard as you have been, and next season you’ll be in the top ten for sure.”
“And in the meantime,” Phichit added, “It’s time to start the post-season off right with the ritual Eating of the Carbs. I’m thinking Pizza Papalis?”
Yuuri shot him a halfhearted glare. “Your Nationals are still coming up,” he pointed out, but there was little actual heat in his voice. It wasn’t Phichit’s fault that his ‘freshman fifteen’ had been the opposite of most students’, resulting in a good third of his class plying their ‘precious hamster son’ with varying foodstuffs to ‘keep his strength up’.
“I’ll be good after tonight!”
“You could at least blush when you lie through your teeth like that.” Yuuri rolled his eyes. “Fine. Spinach and mushroom, extra garlic, you’re paying, and you’re handling all of the human interaction.”
Celestino laughed. “I am not hearing any of this. Celebrate well, boys. Ciao ciao!” He let himself out amid Phichit’s whoop of joy and subsequent call to the pizza place.
Yuuri curled up on the couch and opened his laptop. For once he wasn’t jetlagged after a competition, this year’s championship having been held a bare two hours’ drive away, in Ontario. He was still tired – a week’s worth of too little sleep while dealing with far too many strangers was stressful enough even without the pressure of competition – but he wasn’t sleepy. It was an odd, but not unwelcome, feeling.
*Bad channel key for #therapycouchfort
He blinked. He’d opened the chat client on autopilot, not really intending to socialize even to the extent of text on a screen, but this was an error message he’d never seen before.
/msg SockPuppet what’s a channel key and why is it bad?
*SockPuppet: no such nick/channel
/msg KingElsa hey do you know what’s going on with the chat
KingElsa>> Mess! <3 <3 <3
KingElsa>> They had to password-lock the channel. I guess there was an invasion of trolls?
KingElsa>> Password is “nuclearoption” with no quotes.
/join #therapycouchfort nuclearoption
* Joined channel #therapycouchfort
* Topic is ‘If you haven’t gotten the new channel password from one of the mods, msg us asap. Lockdown goes into effect Thursday night. Thanks for your patience in the meantime.’
* Set by StevenMultiverse on Mar 12 12:04:17 2013
lukewarm_mess: i can’t leave you guys for five minutes, can i
lukewarm_mess: thanks for the pw king
KingElsa: ♡ \ (  ̄▽ ̄ ) / ♡
mercyslovechild: nope u go away and evrything goes to shit
suicideflirtsback: wait does that mean mess is the reason we can’t have nice things?
mercyslovechild: pls dont abandon us again
StandardDeviation: you wish flirt
StandardDeviation: wb mess how was the business conf
lukewarm_mess: very business much industry so productivity wow
suicideflirtsback: have you leveled up your synergy or whatever?
lukewarm_mess: my boss seems to think so but..
KingElsa: Your boss is obviously full of wisdom and good judgment and you should listen to them.
lukewarm_mess: my boss let Peaches eat himself sick on maple candy that we can totally get at home but apparently it’s different because it’s travel candy, whatever that means
mercyslovechild: i thouht peaches was a babby
mercyslovechild: babbies get to travel for work?
lukewarm_mess: he’s an intern so i guess? idk
“I’m a what?” Phichit shrieked from directly behind Yuuri, who winced at the sound.
“Quit reading over my shoulder; that’s why I made you get your own account. Oh, there’s a password to get in now. Nuclear option, one word, all lower case.”
“Thailand’s Prince, the Jewel of Bangkok, an intern? Yuuri, how could you?” He flopped dramatically over the back of the couch.
“Shut up, I panicked.”
lukewarm_mess: anyway why the lockdown?
lukewarm_mess: king you said something about trolls?
*Peaches_and_Dream has joined #therapycouchfort
KingElsa: I wasn’t here either, actually, but that’s what I heard. Hi Mess’ roommate.
suicideflirtsback: we were invaded by scientologists
Peaches_and_Dream: Hello mess’ self-friendzoning internet boyfriend
mercyslovechild: woa sickburn.gif
StandardDeviation: or at least people claiming to be scientologists
lukewarm_mess: PEACH
KingElsa: GASP
StandardDeviation: like two dozen of them flooding the channel at once
Peaches_and_Dream: I notice you’re not denying it ☆⌒ ヽ (*' 、 ^*)chu
“Shut it, Intern Boy.”
StandardDeviation: all telling us to stop taking our brainwashing pills and read dianetics
suicideflirtsback: p sure they were on vpns because even with the mods ip banning them they just kept coming back
“Still waiting for a denial, Yuu-chan! Other than the one you’re in, I mean.”
Peaches_and_Dream: Sounds more like bored channers to me
mercyslovechild: whatevs it was annoying
suicideflirtsback: you mean EPIC
suicideflirtsback: socks just about developed superpowers out of sheer rage
StandardDeviation: after two days the mods decided to make the channel private, and we’ve been lockedin our fallout shelter eating k-rations ever since
KingElsa: Wow, it seems it was an exciting week!
StevenMultiverse: It’s not a perfect solution because it means new people who might actually want to join the chat can’t, but there’s not much else we can do at the moment.
mercyslovechild: where where you king?
StevenMultiverse: In a month or two we’ll try and reopen the channel. Hopefully they’ll have gone away by then.
lukewarm_mess: works for me, glad you found a solution
KingElsa: I went to a family reunion.
suicideflirtsback: good times?
KingElsa: I suppose. It was… typical.
lukewarm_mess: how so
KingElsa: I don’t know. The same faces, the same stories, never any surprises. Lousy food at the big dinner party.
mercyslovechild: potluck >:P
KingElsa: Catered. But still not good.
suicideflirtsback: did you have to be nice to Racist Uncle Tony?
KingElsa: (° ロ °) ! How did you know?! I mean, he was neither a Tony nor my uncle, but….
suicideflirtsback: EVERYONE has a Racist Uncle Tony
*Deltatangofoxtrot has joined #therapycouchfort
KingElsa: “I’m just concerned about the way your *lifestyle*” – he actually made air quotes with his fingers! – “reflects on us…”
Peaches_and_Dream: Ugh, sorry King.
lukewarm_mess: (( ╬ ◣ ﹏ ◢ ))
mercyslovechild: homophobic uncle tony ><
suicideflirtsback: always the highlight of fam functions
suicideflirtsback: hey fox
StevenMultiverse: hi fox
Peaches_and_Dream: Hi Tango
KingElsa: Hello, DTF.
StandardDeviation: Did you just
StandardDeviation: *facepalms*
Deltatangofoxtrot: RDY ANYTIME BAE ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
mercyslovechild: passes out protection
Peaches_and_Dream: Why sir, I hardly know you! *flutters fan*
KingElsa: …
suicideflirtsback: *is ace*
StevenMultiverse: *is married*
KingElsa: …………
lukewarm_mess: at least take me out to dinner first
KingElsa: !
KingElsa: Et tu, Mess???
lukewarm_mess: you’ve been here how long and you still walked into that??
lukewarm_mess: sorry no sympathy, you deserved it
KingElsa: 。゜゜(´O`) ゜゜。
KingElsa: I’m ESL?
lukewarm_mess: no excuse, so am i
lukewarm_mess: it has to be somewhere nice, too. i don’t put out for qdoba
StandardDeviation: Besides, that’s not english, it’s internet
StandardDeviation: *is helping*
KingElsa: Don’t help. >.>
Headlights flashed through the window as a car pulled into the parking lot. Yuuri glanced outside and saw the glowing pizza sign on the roof. His shoulders hunched involuntarily.
“Go hide,” Phichit told him. “I’ll bribe them to go away, that usually works.”
Yuuri smiled sheepishly before heading for their shared bedroom. “Sorry,” he called through the closing door. “It’s just—”
“—No more strangers for a while. I know. I’ll say our goodbyes in chat, too. It’s BFF bonding time.”
<Part 4>
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