Work Text:
My little Squeaky Toy Pt.5
The restaurant was small. A tiny building so far off the main streets that it was no wonder that it was pretty much empty. Tom’s hand lay on your lower back as he guided you into the even smaller room. It felt good, though, his grip was neither too strong, nor was force put into it. You could barely feel his fingers on your back, so light was the touch.
It puzzled you, how you had survived the car ride and the permanent side glances he had thrown at you, without going insane. Well, you had been in some sort of daze the moment you had landed in his arms and had just managed to snap out of it when you had arrived at the restaurant.
Tom talked to a waiter, who quickly took your jackets and led you to a table in one of the corners, far away from the entrance or anything that could make noises which would interrupt or distract you. In a hurry he lit the candle in the middle of the table - it was a small one in a glass - and pulled out the chair for you to sit down. You were a bit flustered, but concentrated only on the beautiful human being, that was just getting comfortable, in front of you. He really was beautiful.
The candle light and the smile, that was plastered to his lips, didn’t make it any better. Talking about it… said smile grew until a row of perfect white pearls was being revealed. How did he even manage that? Keeping his teeth in such perfect condition?
“Are you okay, darling? You look a bit flushed.” He sounded concerned, but the grin on his lips told you something different. He was teasing you on purpose.
“I have never felt better.” That wasn’t a lie. Internally, you were screaming in pure excitement and joy and you couldn’t remember the last time you had to suppress a grin with such force. The smile was everything you let slip. At least, he should know that you enjoyed yourself.
One of Tom’s eyebrows shot upwards when you took the menu from the waiter, smiling at the middle-aged man shortly in thanks. Then your gaze was fixed on Tom again.
The light in the restaurant was dim, although it was still bright daylight outside. It made you wonder about how in the world Tom had managed to spot this place without having directly passed it on his way into the city.
Small shadows were cast along Tom’s soft features, his sharp cheekbones and tender throat highly accentuated in contrast to his cheeks and the crook of his neck. He wore a dark-blue button-down shirt, that almost seemed black, with rolled up sleeves. The light linen – seemingly crinkled at the sleeves and near the buttons – caressed his body in a way you had never seen on another man before. Basically, and honestly, Tom could wear whatever he wanted, and you would still drool over him, no matter how messy he would look.
“Do you already know what you want to drink?” The moment he spoke, your eyes were drawn to his lips. God, what was wrong with you?
“No – I mean yes. Yes, I do.” Could it possibly get any more embarrassing?
By the way he smiled at you, you could tell that he had caught you staring and apparently, he found that rather amusing. Just seconds later he leaned a bit forward and propped his chin on one of his hands.
“What are you going to take?”
“I’m – uh…” You stammered and internally applauded yourself for such an intelligent statement.
“You didn’t choose anything, am I right?” He flashed you a cheeky grin. “What about Pinot Noir? It goes really well with pasta.”
You assumed that Pinot Noir had to be wine or something similar. At least it sounded like it was. Maybe red wine. Actually, you weren’t someone to drink alcohol, but that was a special occasion and one single glass couldn’t be that bad after all.
“I’m sorry.” Concern showed on his face, his brows knitted slightly. “I didn’t even ask you if you liked wine.”
“Depends. What is Pinot Noir?” You answered truthfully, causing Tom to laugh heartily.
God, he was so beautiful like that.
“It’s red wine. Trust me when I tell you that it is worth trying.”
“Okay… How much is it?” You meant the price, because, considering the name of that wine, it might be expensive, and you weren’t exactly rich.
“Don’t worry about the price, Darling, I’m paying.”
Of course, you should have known that he would offer that. But now you were sitting in front of him, agape at his kindness and just didn’t know what to say, completely surprised, although you should have known. You felt your cheeks flush and, considering how hot your face was at that moment, you were probably as red as a tomato.
Tom tilted his head slightly upwards and then down again, smiling gently at you, no judgement to see in his eyes.
“You are beautiful when you blush.” It sounded so innocent and soft, coming from him and it just made you blush all the more.
“Thank you?” How were you supposed to react to something like this? His stare was intense enough to make you shift nervously and curl a strand of hair in between your index finger and your thumb.
His smile grew wider and he leaned back slightly, obviously looking you up and down. Normally, you wouldn’t have noticed, but that was different. It wasn’t just some guy, it was Tom.
And apparently, he did it with the knowledge of you noticing what he was doing. Hopefully, he would stop soon. Not, that you didn’t like having his attention, you merely didn’t want to be blushing for the rest of the evening. He chuckled and looked down, studying his hand, while you were studying him.
His glasses were sliding down his nose, just a bit and they definitely wouldn’t have fallen down - they stopped mid-way - but you couldn’t resist the urge and leaned forward, gently pushing it up again. Then holding his gaze, you wanted to sit down again, but his slender fingers wrapped around your wrist, as he gently pulled you forward. And suddenly you felt overwhelmed by his presence. Before you knew what was happening, he cupped your cheek and pulled you even closer, careful so you wouldn’t hurt yourself.
“Are you seeing anyone lately?” His voice was slightly hoarse and his gaze intense and fixed on you. It made you shudder and colour, when you realized what he had meant with that question.
“No…” You hesitated to hold eye contact, but at the same time, you wouldn’t even have been able to withdraw or do anything at all, his scent and hot hand on your skin almost too much to bear.
“That’s good.” He shifted slightly, reached for the back of your neck and kissed you. For the first few seconds, you couldn’t think, were not able to realize what was happening. Your head was spinning and all at once, you felt lightheaded and dizzy. Then you noticed how soft and warm his lips were, how gentle the kiss and how patiently he merely pressed his lips against yours, waiting for you to respond or to reject. And that was all it took for you to kiss him back, to move your lips and show him that, yes, yes you liked it and yes, you wanted more.
At some point, you might have knocked your – still empty – wine glass over but you couldn’t care less. You wanted to kiss him forever.
But Tom was the first to part again, slightly dazed, and caressed your cheek gently. Flushing deeply red, you looked away and sat down again, flattening your blue dress to keep your hands busy.
The hand, that had cupped your cheek only a few seconds ago, had wandered down your neck, shoulder and arm until it had reached your hand and Tom intertwined your fingers with his.
You stared at him wide eyed, not really registering when he ordered a bottle of wine and your meals and sent the waiter away again, paying his every attention to you once more. He squeezed your hand gently and smiled reassuringly, as if he was afraid you would change your mind at the next best opportunity.
“How can you brighten up with one smile?” It was barely a whisper, not intended for him to hear, but he did and chuckled amused, making you flush all over yet another time. But why did you even take the time to be embarrassed for what you had said? He was the one who had kissed you, wasn’t that obvious enough? You didn’t think of Tom as someone who would play games for fun with other people’s feelings. Nevertheless, you couldn’t help but feel insecure. Showing people your vulnerability was never something that was easy for you, and even Tom was no exception in that case. Although, you were already trusting him a lot more than you had ever trusted anyone before – again, besides your best friend of course.
“Because I mostly laugh when I am truly happy.” He guessed and now it was your turn to laugh.
“What did you order?” The least thing you wanted to do, was ruining the mood, but at some point, you had to know what you were going to eat.
“I ordered Fettuccine Napoletana for the two of us. Is that okay with you?”
“How did you know that I love this pasta dish?”
“You said you love pasta.” He smirked and winked at you. You knew that he had probably simply guessed, but it was a cute and sweet gesture anyways.
The waiter came back to your table with a bottle of wine and poured you a glass, moving on to Tom’s glass afterwards. When he had left again, Tom lifted his glass and smiled softly.
“Cheers.” You clinked glasses with him and took your first sip of the red wine, all the time being observed closely by Tom.
“It’s good, I like it.” You stated and put the glass down again, the sweet taste of the dry wine still lingering on your tongue. Truth be told, it tasted exactly like every other red wine, making you wonder why Tom was so fond of it. At least, he seemed pleased with your answer.
The two of you were talking until your food arrived. He told you about his tight schedule, the many takes they had to shoot, the mistakes that happened to nearly every actor on set, his utterly frustrating and annoying costume and at some point during your conversation he trailed off to Shakespeare. It was plainly adorable. You listened, loving every word that left his mouth, and watched him as he gesticulated to strengthen what he was saying. You could listen to him forever, so every time it seemed as if he wouldn’t continue to talk, you asked him a new question. Actually, it was the first time that he talked that much, but probably because he was just as nervous as you.
He kept his word and payed for your dinner, tipping the waiter generously, before helping you stand up and put your jacket back on.
His hand was on the small of your back again, as he led you out of the restaurant.
“That was really lovely.” He turned to look at you, his other hand curling around your waist. He was all smiles.
“Yes, it was. Thank you.” Almost intuitively, you placed your own hands on his chest, once again marvelling at his height. “Thank you for inviting me.”
There was a short silence, in which he just looked at you in awe.
“I’m sorry that I talked that much, darling.” There was a hint of concern and guilt in his eyes, his grip around your waist tightening protectively. “Do you want to come with me for a cup of coffee?”