Tom Holland & Peter Parker Imagines & Preferences (book 2)

I- okay (smut)

"what're you doin'?" you look up to see tom standing in the doorway of the studio, looking at you strangely with your legs stretched out in a deep straddle.

"just staying here a little bit longer to work on some contemporary stuff." you roll out of your splits and turn to face him, scooting away from the mirror. your knees making you slide on the harlequin floors.

he walks towards you and sits on the ground, legs crisscrossed as he faces you and smiles softly. "show me," he holds his hand out and gestures to the room.

"no, it's not any good." you'd take your eyes off of him so he doesn't see the blushing mess that you are.

"rubbish. how could you, a professional dancer, not be any good?"

"I'm not a professional dancer," you laugh lowly to yourself, thinking that it's totally ridiculous to call yourself a professional at anything, really.

"But you will be. someday..." his little comment makes you smile. no one's ever talked to you like that. "but come on. show me whatcha got," he scoots on the floor so his back is against the wall. you stare at each other, you with a face that says "really?" and him with a face that says "really."

"ok, well it's nothing that I'm actually doing for the company or anything. it's just something I've been working on, on my own..." you try to stall him because you're secretly really embarrassed about your own work.

"Just show me," he stops you from saying anything else.

you smile shyly to yourself and look up in the mirror, taking a deep breath before dancing. "sorry, tom. I can't," you steady laughing a little bit, walking in a circle with your hands over your head in shame.

"yes, you can."

"no, I can't. it's like you with singing, and how you can barely even do it for the movie."

"Alright, fair enough." he stands up and walks towards you, a smug little smirk across his face. "but, since you won't show me what you do, you have to tell me. tell me every single thing about yourself."

and so you do. you talk to him about your life; pretty boring stuff, actually. leaving out the most important parts because you might scare him off. he listens intently, even though it's useless information.

conversations about each other start to spread into a wild range of conversations about anything. the studio, the room, and the weird prints on the ceiling.

"doesn't this cost a bunch of extra money?" tom points up to the ceiling of the studio the two of you were staying in.

"what?" you look up from your phone.

"keeping the lights on after you're supposed to..."

"probably..." you sigh, "and I'm broke so I'm screwed," you just shrug and tom laughs at you.

"oh! but you know what we used to do at dance when I was younger?" you shot up and started walking towards the light switches "we'd do improv in the dark and it was like the best thing I've ever done in my life"

tom nods his head along with you

the studio was perfect for doing this. the windows were open and clean and covering the whole back wall, allowing the light of the city to beam dimly into the room.

"let me put some music on" you go over to your phone, abandoning the light switch and leaving the lights on for now. you play 'since we're alone', seeing tom bob his head to the soft guitar riffs.

you go over to lights again and turn them off, instantly hearing an, "Oh shit, it's darker than I thought," followed by yours and his giggle.

"where are you?" he laughs out loud and you both walk slowly in the room, you holding your arms out so just in case you bump into him; you'll touch.