Love is Confusing (Tom Holland x Ryan Reynolds)

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Tom woke up to the sun shining on his face. He sat up, groaning.

Christ my fucking head..

He stretched and noticed he was, um..

Naked?! Wait..

Tom looked over and there was the last person he wanted to see naked, asleep in his damn bed, Ryan fucking Reynolds.

"WHATTHEFUCK-" Tom shouted rather loudly, causing Ryan to sit up, startled.

"What's wrong, Blake-" Ryan mumbled sleepily. He rubbed his eyes and looked around, suddenly remembering what happened the other night.
"Nice."

"Ryan..What did we do last night.." Tom said in a very concerned tone.

"Well, you invited me in, I made you a couple of really strong drinks and we um.."

No..

Tom got up quickly, pain shot straight through his lower half. He yelped and fell onto the dresser.

Yes..

"Are you okay?!" Ryan ran over to him and helped him up.

"What the hell did you do to me?!" Tom asked, limping over to his dresser.

"Wrecked your ass." Ryan replied, not giving a fuck.

The brit glared at him and grabbed some clothes. "Get dressed, we'll be late."

Ryan raised an eyebrow. "We?"

"Yep. Might as well go out on set, I've got nothing better to do. You're driving." Tom threw back some Tylenol and pulled on a pair of jeans.

"Alright, it the least I can do since I-"

"Don't even." He growled.

《♡》

They got on set, parking nearby.
Ryan looked around, making sure there weren't any reporters or paparazzi.

All clear.

"Grab your shit and let's go, I'm not sure if it'll stay clear for long." Ryan said, grabbing his bag and his keys.

Tom nodded and grabbed his bag.

They bolted inside, and to their surprise. (Well not really.)

There was the paparazzi.

Reporters from UsWeekly, E!News, all that other bullshit.

They were talking to directors and producers, luckily not noticing that the two walked in together.

Tom felt his chest tighten, a lump form in his throat, and his eyes start to water.

Another panic attack, wonderful.

He gripped onto Ryan's arm tightly.

"W-we h-have to go, Ryan-" Tom whimpered shakily.

Ryan looked down. Tom looked like a frightened child. He had seen him have a panic attack but it wasn't this bad.

That's. Enough.

Ryan took Tom into the back, grabbed his suit and ran off to his dressing room.
This shit has gotten out of hand and Ryan was going to fucking end it.

He ran out in his suit, not having the mask on.
He ran out to the reporters, making sure they saw him.

Sure enough they did.

Ryan waved. "Hello paparazzi! Let's spill some fucking tea!"

Ooooooooh shit