So maybe your life is in shambles and you run away to London to get your head straight. Sure, you don't really have a plan but the Universe does, and before you know it, some kid from Kingston has completely turned your world upside and your body i...
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"Found them!" Tom was on his hands and knees, by one of the leather chairs, waving your panties in the air like some soldier surrendering.
"Nice work," you grabbed them and slipped them back on, taking a look at yourself in the mirror. All in all, you didn't look like you just had amazing sex on a bathroom sink, with undoubtedly the hottest guy you've ever been fortunate enough to screw. A little rosy cheeked perhaps.
Tom was far more disheveled. His shirt was halfway unbuttoned, halfway untucked, and all the way wrinkled. His tie hung loosely around his stomach, the knot barely holding itself together. Your eyes lingered on that stomach. You remembered him telling you that it tickled when you ran your nails down his stomach. But you did anyway, and that's when he grabbed you by the wrists and pinned your arms above your head. You weren't expecting that. The boy was learning.
Tom caught you eyeing him in the mirror and smiled. You winked back, pulling out some lipstick to reapply. His eyes suddenly grew wide and his smile disappeared.
"Tom, what-" you turned around and followed his gaze to find Harrison standing in the threshold that separated the lounge from the stalls. He looked mortified.
"Oh shit!" you giggled, your hand flying to your mouth to muzzle the laugh that was building up in you.
Tom walked gingerly towards him, fixing his tie.
"Harrison? Haz? You been here this whole time?" he asked carefully.
Harrison blinked and walked shell shocked to the sinks. His movements were stiff, almost mechanical.
"I'm just going to wash my hands and leave and forget about this." he declared, his face growing redder by the minute.
"Oh my god!" You started cackling. So much for stifling a laugh; it was in full force. You couldn't help yourself. This was too hilarious.
"I'm just going to wash my hands and leave and forget about this!" Harrison repeated himself, doing his damnedest to drown you out.
Tom didn't seem to know what to do. You were doubled over on one of the chairs, laughing your ass off. Harrison looked like he just saw his mom naked.
Finally, he made his way towards the door and tried to pull it. It didn't budge
He tried again, his face an absolute beet right now.
"It's locked, mate." Tom said, stepping closer to help but Harrison fumbled with the bolt and practically ran through the door, swinging it behind him.
Tom turned to you and slapped his palms on his cheeks, making a face a la Macaulay Culkin in Home Alone. You shook your head, slinking into the leather chair.
"I think he's scarred for life," Tom laughed, turning back to the mirror to tame his hair.
"Yeah, he looked a bit FLUSHED," you giggled, wiggling your eyebrows.
"I guess he's PRIVY to our naughty antics now!" Tom replied, making a face at you in the mirror, still wrangling that mane of his.
"You done primping, Princess?" you teased, "I'm going to turn into a pumpkin soon."
"You can't rush the hair, Y/N. It's like 90% of my appeal," he said in some sassy voice, putting a hand on his hip.
You leaned your head back and sighed, "And you're 100% dork."
