Tom has been rushing around his apartment like a headless chicken, trying to calm his shot nerves. It's a Thursday and he doesn't have to be at work until 3pm, three hours from now.
"Calm down, you buffoon," he sighs shakily, leaping in front on the mirror to try and tame his fluffy brown curls. It proves to be fruitless, however, because it just makes the curls bounce and tighten around his face. "All of this panic over a dude," he sniffles, wrinkling his freckled nose adorably.
He doesn't see it, but he is a beautiful man, with a sweet smile and kind, respectable manners.
No he doesn't see it.
All he sees is an outcast, trying far too hard to fit into a world where he isn't wanted.
His co-worker, Jenny Wright, likes him. She makes it painfully obvious too, with the pretty smirks, uncensored winks and constant shaking of her rounded buttocks.
He shrugs off her flirting, assuming that she's just trying to weasel some overtime out of him, refusing to stop and ponder the fact that she may actually be into him.
No, no.
Who would ever look at him like that?
He's weird. He's solitary. He's so boring. Not that he'd ever return the flirts to find out the truth, though.
Why would he?
He's gay.
A ping snaps the lanky man out of his thoughts, and he strides towards the kitchen counter with a heavy lump in his throat. He doesn't want to fuck this up. He wants Chris to like him so badly. How ridiculous! He doesn't even know what Chris looks like...
ChrisHems: Hey sweetie. Its 9pm here so if I'm goanna call you tonight; it has to be now ;)
NONONONONONONONO.
Tom was supposed to have more time to prepare!
He grips his hair in utter frustration and bites his knuckles. He's just overreacting, right? He's kept Chris waiting for too long now, since 6pm actually.
ThomHiddles: Sure! Call me whenever J
If only he felt so bloody calm in person!
He takes a deep breath and stumbles towards his sofa.
"Why are you even scared?" he spits at his reflection, hating the awful creature that glares back at him. Tears are spilling down his cheeks and he's starting to breathe heavily.
He begins to think about his last relationship, six years ago, when his ex abused and blackmailed him for months. He couldn't do anything to stop it. He couldn't escape. He couldn't-
A loud shrill interrupts his thoughts and he gasps, eyes widening at the unfamiliar number on his phone.
It looks strange, like it isn't from Britain.
He squints through the tears and reads: Australia.
So... Chris is Australian.
Somehow, this calms his nerves just a fraction, to finally have a mental idea of Chris's possible accent and background. He takes a huge, deep breath, glowering at the phone like it's about to eat him. Gradually, his hand slips closer and closer until it's pressed to his ear and a beautiful voice serenades him to peace.
"Hello, beautiful,"
At first, he can't reply. He can't do anything and it feels so similar, yet so different. He's aware that his breathing is uneven and an occasional sob escapes him.
He hears Chris shifting on the other end.
"Tommy? Are you alright, man? What's going on?" he sounds genuinely concerned and Tom squeezes his eyes shut. Why is he so weak? "Tom? Come on, man, you're killing me here. Do I need to come and get you?" he chuckles but it sounds strained and nervous.
"I'm perfectly fine," Tom replies smoothly, wiping the wince from his face.
His voice is deep and surprisingly steady, if you exclude the frantic inhale at the end.
Chris breathes an exaggerated sigh of relief and giggles.
"At least you're talking now, Tom! Oh my God, I love your voice,"
Chris' voice is softer than he expected. He doesn't sound at all obnoxious or loud like he appears to be in text. Tom can honestly imagine them being friends... being more than friends maybe. He's too quick to jump into things, he knows this, but it's a part of who he is and it can't be helped.
"Look, I'm sorry if I caught you at a bad time," Chris' kind voice sighs from the other end. Tom panics.
"No! Not at all, Chris. I'm just... nervous about this is all?"
There is dead silence on the other end and Tom wants to jump off his roof.
"Don't be," Chris whispers. He sounds so concerned and genuine. "Don't be, Tom. I need you to understand now that you don't ever have to feel scared or pressured around me, okay?"
Tom nods, completely forgetting that Chris can't see him.
"Okay," he breathes weakly with a blush feathering his smooth cheeks. "Okay, Chris. Yeah."
"So, are we good?"
"We are, yeah."
"GOOD! Man, I love your voice."
A real, honest to god chuckle escapes Tom's lips and Chris exhales with happiness.
It's crazy how comfortable they are around each other. They talk for hours about anything and everything until Tom has to end the call to go to work, feeling lighter and happier than before.
As he tugs on his barista uniform, with fond memories of Chris' charged compliments, he briefly remembers that he still doesn't know what this amazing young man looks like.
He can't bring himself to care, because he's already falling for him.
