Tom Holland One Shots

Unexpected Visitor

You and Tom had been friends for about two years and despite how you felt about him, you'd said nothing.  You guys hugged, he'd kiss your cheek playfully sometimes, but he never complimented you.  He never did anything that struck you as remotely interested, so you shrugged off your feelings and dove into your work instead.  So much so, it had been weeks since you'd seen Tom.  Or Harrison.

Riiiiiiing.  Riiiiiiiiiing.  Riiiiiiii--

"Hello?"  You put the phone to your ear, seeing the familiar but distant name on your phone.  His raspy voice answered on the other end.

"Hey, what are you doing right now?"  He asked.  You looked around your apartment, closing your book and getting off the couch.  You wanted to see him.  But you weren't sure how you'd feel if you saw him.  What if your feelings never left?

"Just hanging out, why?"  He cleared his throat on the other end.  There was the sound of a bus, then a taxi.  Was he outside on the street?

"Can you let me in?"  Your stomach dropped and you went to your window.  Sure enough, clear as day, Tom was standing outside in his hoodie and a pair of skinny jeans, waving up to your window with a big smile.  You gave him a small wave.  You were not even prepared to see him.  You hadn't left your pajamas all day.  You'd been working all day on your latest project.  But it didn't matter.  He didn't like you.  You didn't want that with him.  So it didn't matter how you looked.  It was okay.  Or so you told yourself.

"Sure, just give me a second," you said, clicking off the phone and pressing the button beside your door, buzzing him in.  You had about thirty seconds before he was at your door, just like old times.  He'd come over all the time before, sit with you and watch movies, put his arm around you, have food fights in your kitchen and then feel bad and help you clean up, and one time, you both even shared the couch and fell asleep together.  But you'd never kissed.  Never held hands.  Nothing.  Not one single time.

You tossed the blanket you'd cocooned yourself into towards the end of the smaller couch, closing your notebook, putting your pencil on top of that on the coffee table, and then you fixed your hair, putting it into a neater bun, even though it still looked terrible.  Then the door knob turned.  Then there he was, standing in your doorway.  He grinned when he saw you, kicking off his shoes.

"Y/N," he breathed out, still shivering from the evening air.  He shut the door and came over to you, wrapping you in a cold but comforting hug.  He lingered there for a moment.  He smelled different.  Could it be a different brand of cologne?  Whatever it was, he smelled nice.

"Hey, Tom," you said as you both pulled away.  He held onto your arms for a moment.  His eyes never left yours.  "Sorry I've been busy lately."

"It's okay.  It's just been a while.  I missed you."  He missed me.  You brushed away the thought.  You were reading into it.  There's no way he liked you.  No way.  He went over to the couch, plopping himself down.  You followed him, sitting beside him and curling your knees up to his chest.

"How are things?"  The question was so innocent but in reality, you wanted more details.  Like why he randomly appeared on your doorstep.  Not that it wasn't nice, but you needed more details, more information as to why the sudden visit.  He was still grinning when he cleared his throat, rolling up the sleeves of his hoodie.

"Things are okay.  How are you?" 

"They're okay," you said slowly.  "Were you just in the neighborhood?  Is everything okay?"  He paused for a second, still staring at you.  Just his eyes peering into yours set your butterflies in your stomach into disarray.  It was a feeling you hadn't felt for a long time, since the last time you saw him.  He crossed his legs and sat facing you.

"I have been thinking, a lot.  Since we haven't been hanging out.  I need to tell you something," he started, chuckling to himself.  "I don't know why I didn't see it before."  Oh crap.  He knows I like him, you thought to yourself, feeling your face go pale and your hands get clammy.  Right on cue, he grabbed both of your hands and you wanted to throw up.  What was he doing?  

"What is it?"  You asked, filling the awkward emptiness in the room.  You wanted him to just tell you.  Why couldn't he just tell you what was on his mind?  Guys were supposed to be more upfront than girls were.  Always.  What was the hold up?

"I thought at first, we were just really comfortable with each other, but I think it's something more.  Y/N, I think...I have feelings for you.  Whenever I am not with you, I always find myself wondering what you're doing," he started, suddenly looking down and away from you.  "If you don't like me like that, I understand."  You couldn't control the smile on your face.  Tom finally found your eyes again and squinted at you.  The butterflies in your stomach were going crazy.

"You like me?"  You asked again.  Somebody pinch me.  This can't be real.  This can't be real, Tom here telling me that he has a crush on me.  Tom nodded slowly, his face serious.  He shook his head, shifting in his seat.

"I do.  If you don't like me the same way, it's okay.  I'll be okay," he reassured.  You clutched his hands, giving them a big squeeze.  His eyes widened as your thumbs rubbed over the back of his hands.

"I have something to tell you, then," you said with a smirk, making Tom smile.  He pushed his fingers in between yours, scooting closer and waiting.  "I stopped hanging out with you because I had feelings for you.  And I didn't think you liked me back."  Tom started laughing, throwing his head back behind him.  You squinted now, staring at him.  "What's so funny?"

"All this time, I thought you were annoyed by me so you didn't want to see me anymore," he said, still laughing.  "I'm such an idiot.  We both just liked each other."  You couldn't contain your laughter anymore, still holding onto his hands.  The butterflies had calmed themselves and the both of you just stared at each other, admiring one another.  This was what you had dreamed of, staring into his eyes and just hanging out.  Just the two of you, just like old times.  Just like always.

"So...now what?"  You asked, breaking the silence.  He shrugged, turning and putting one arm behind you on the couch.  You leaned in instinctively, reaching for his free hand.  

"Let's just enjoy this," he told you, flicking on the TV as the two of you sat there, holding hands and cuddling on the couch, talking about all the times both of you had suspicions, but never said a single word.