Chapter Text
It took me a moment to realize what I had gotten down to the night before. When I woke up in a hotel room that was similar to mine, but not exactly the same, a bout of nerves pulsed through my veins. I rolled over onto my back, only to discover a sleeping guy next to me.
As always, my drunk self could not be trusted.
This wasn't new for me. Every time I went out, I always told myself that I wouldn't hook up with anyone. I would just have a few drinks and then go home and be drunk by myself. More often than not, though, I would wake up naked with a random person in a random place.
I mean, this time only happened because I was invited to the Spider-Man: Homecoming premiere. I wasn't sure why, but who was I to turn down something like that? There was an after party, and needless to say, I attended. That's where things got fuzzy. I had a few drinks and talked to a few people, some of them from the movie. I didn't expect to wake up in bed with the main fucking actor.
Again, not exactly uncharacteristic for me. But it was probably the least expected to discover that I had slept with Tom Holland. I was wracking my brain, trying to dig up the part from last night where I actually met him. You would think I would remember something like that, even with the amount of alcohol in my system. For once, I even tried to remember some of the events that happened in this room, but to no avail. Shame, this one was actually hot.
He turned in the sheets, facing me. I froze, not daring to look at him for a second. He remained still and silent, probably forgetting that he brought some random girl into bed last night. This was my sign to quietly get my shit together and leave. I sat up and scanned the room for my dress.There was no way I was going to steal clothes from a fucking famous actor, I’d definitely get sued for that at some point. I found my bra hung on the back of a chair, then my underwear caught on the foot of the bed. My dress? Nowhere to be seen.
I managed to reach over and grab my lace panties. Putting them on was a bit of a challenge because I didn't want to expose myself in case Tom woke up, and I didn't want to move around too much and cause him to wake up. However, lying on my back, curling my legs, and sliding the fabric back on gave me a small flashback to when he was doing quite the opposite. He definitely knew what to do with his hands… and his mouth… My chest fluttered, but I quickly shook it off. I was in the process of leaving.
But I was sidetracked either way.
“Hey,” Tom sleepily mumbled, much to my disdain.
My hands immediately went to the blanket covering my chest and I looked at him. I was unnecessarily starstruck at the way he looked. His hair was ruffled and messy, and his neck was speckled with hickies I barely remembered leaving. His arms and shoulders looked so delicious, I found myself loathing that I was so hammered that I couldn't remember what it was like to touch him.
I pushed all of this aside. “Don't worry, I'm about to leave.”
Tom sat up on his elbow, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with his other hand. “What for?”
In my experience of hook ups, the person I slept with normally just rolled over and ignored me when I was making my exit. Needless to say, I was thrown off by his words. He didn't want me to stay, did he?
“Um, I'm just… there's nothing else for us to do here, right?” I asked in response.
“There could be some things to do.” He smiled. “Come on, it doesn't have to end now. I had a good time with you.”
Another guy who just wants my body. No thanks. One night is enough, even if it was Tom.
I shook my head. “I should just go.”
“Okay,” he said after a pause.
It was so much easier when I was blackout drunk. Not that he wasn't attractive now, but Tom seemed a lot more seductive and alluring when I was grinding up on him at the after party. Or maybe I was just hungover and in shock that it was him I scored.
“Could you, um, not look at me?” I sheepishly asked.
Tom chuckled and dove under the covers.
Quickly, I hopped out of bed and grabbed my bra. Once I had it on, I looked around for my dress. I kept glancing at the bed, making sure Tom wasn't making eyes at me.
I groaned. “Do you have any idea where my dress went? You can look, I guess.”
He sat up, looking around at the room. It seemed like he was actively trying not to stare at me. “Have you checked the bathroom?”
Why would it be in the bathroom? I looked in there anyway and low and behold…
My pale pink dress had a mysterious red stain on the front. Great, my walk of shame was going to be even more shameful. I came out of the bathroom, looking down at the gross stain. I barely even looked at Tom, even though he was looking right at me, as I walked over to grab my shoes, phone and clutch bag.
“Okay, well,” I said dismissively, “this is where we part ways. It was good to meet you and whatnot.”
“Actually,” he spoke up as he got out from under the covers. Thankfully, he had his boxers on. “Is there any chance I could see you again? You just… you seem really cool, and I want to get to know you.”
I hesitated, but I also refrained from rolling my eyes. “I've heard it all before. You say you want to get to know me, but you really just wanna see if you can hit it again, and you'll give up when you don't. Then you'll go back to England and we'll forget about each other.” And when I watch his movie on DVD with my friends, I'll throw in a joke about sleeping with Tom Holland and my friends will laugh because that doesn't happen in real life.
He let out a soft laugh, amused by my cynicism. “Or, we could go to dinner, maybe - i-if you want - and we can have a good time that doesn't involve getting naked. What do you think?”
Another thing I've heard before. Sure, he was a celebrity and I would probably never get a moment like this again, but he was also a guy. He was a young guy, and I probably wasn't the first one night stand he's had. Why would he get attached this quickly?
Thankfully, my phone rang in my hand, giving me the chance to indirectly reject him. “I have to take this. I have to go.”