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It's the way he says it, most of the time, rather than the actual word he says.
(Either way, Harry can never get enough of it. He can never get enough of Tobi in general, in all honesty.)
It's the tone he says it with, his voice as he says it - Harry positively melts on the inside, every time without failure. He thinks Tobi knows this, which would explain why he does it so often, but Tobi only smirks when Harry visibly or verbally reacts, so he's not certain. It is just as likely that Tobi does it so frequently simply because he loves him so much. The idea of which, even now, so many years into their relationship, sometimes still feels a little odd to Harry.
Whenever Tobi fondly addresses him with pet names on camera, Harry has to put all of his energy into conveying disinterest and pretending to be unaffected. Even though the last thing he ever is, is unaffected by Tobi Brown.
"Do you wanna use the shower first, Tobi?" Harry asks, mainly to sound polite in front of the camera, but also because Tobi deserves easy comfort. (It is also statistically more likely that they will shower together if Tobi is the first one in, as Harry is generally less patient than Tobi. That and Tobi pretends to be shy far too often, leaving these moments to be some of the few where Harry can admire his boyfriend without a filter.)
"After you, princess."
Tobi's reply is low, shot back immediately in a careless manner, and the nonchalance of it all is what hits the hardest for Harry.
"R-right, okay, don't mind if I do, boss," Harry nods, then nods again, and again, as he makes his way down from the funky hut's upper bed; as far as the audience can tell, he's completely unaffected by the other's use of pet name. Though, there hopefully won't be an audience. Hopefully, this little bit of footage gets cut out of the video before it is released.
Once in the bathroom, Harry heads straight towards the quaint, designated shower area that is little more than a shower head and drain. The feeling that tingles across his skin the moment the first splash of hot water hits his back is akin to the feeling he gets whenever Tobi calls him princess, a familiar warmth blooming in his belly.
"You alright in here, babe?" Comes from over by the bathroom door, Harry's body immediately swinging round to face the sound. He's met with the sight of his boyfriend, gloriously shirtless and with a not uncommon smug look on his face. (Since he's here, the camera must be gone by now, as cameraman James is probably off trying to get Gib to show his face on camera.)
"Oh, hello, Tobi."
Harry turns back around as if no interruption had occurred at all, glancing briefly at the growing puddle of water on the floor as he does so. Curious, he blurts out, "I think the bathroom might be flooding."
"I hope not." Tobi's voice is closer this time, and it's then that Harry can feel the other's presence creeping up behind him. Warm arms wrap around his shoulders as Tobi's chest settles against his back, a soothing kiss pressed to the nape of Harry's neck despite the shower water that must surely be aimed at Tobi's face with the way Harry's head is angled towards the floor.
Harry allows himself a moment of relaxation in the intimate hold, taking pleasure in the art of matching his breathing to Tobi's. Sometimes, it's a bit of a challenge, which Harry can enjoy when in the right mood, but generally Tobi exaggerates his own breathing in order to make the task uncomplicated and painless for Harry. Harry has infinite gratitude for all the little things his boyfriend does for him to make his day to day life easier. He can only ever hope that he impacts the older man in the same way, but he often fears the fact that it's unlikely.
With a huffed exhalation, Harry reluctantly removes himself from the comforting hold, then turns around so he is facing away from the shower head and looking at Tobi. When he speaks, he sounds fond but also secretive, for some reason. "Mhm, my boyfriend."
One of the many things that Harry loves about Tobi, is that he rarely ever laughs at Harry, more so laughs with him. There is benevolent amusement evident in the elder's eyes, but he doesn't make a callous comment, nor does his expression imply he is even so much as thinking of one.
"Mhm, your boyfriend."
With a smile, Harry leans in to kiss Tobi, pulling away from it with an even bigger smile. He points down, somewhere off to the side, "Pass me the shower gel, please?"
"Anything for you, princess." Tobi grins widely at him before leaning over and collecting one of the small travel toiletries that Harry had packed into Tobi's bag. He passes it to Harry, then uses the same hand to place a singular, gentle clap upon Harry's shoulder the moment the shower gel leaves his own touch.
Shower gel in hand, Harry squirts some into his palm before tossing the tiny bottle off to the side, resulting in a - rather fruitless - unconcerned complaint from Tobi.
Any sign of complaint is instantly replaced by reticent compliance as the shorter man allows Harry free reign of his body in order to lather it with the temporary shower gel. He's not aggressive with it, no, but his hands are strong and his touch assertive. It doesn't matter that they both know Tobi will shower again as soon as they get back home later in the day, preferably with his favourite citrusy blend.
(Harry can't lie, Tobi always seems to hit different when he smells like oranges, even though neither of them have a particular interest for the fruit.)
Eventually, after shamelessly groping his boyfriend more than once as he washed the other, and earning himself more than one slap on the arse in return, Harry removes his hands and moves to the side to let Tobi stand under the spray of water properly in order to be able to rinse off the soapy shower gel.
"Right, Bog, out of the shower." Tobi orders as soon as he feels clean enough to do so, turning the knob first the wrong way and then the right in an attempt to shut it off, making Harry giggle.
Admittedly, Harry quite frequently does laugh at Tobi, but he only ever means it with love.
The room blatantly is a bit flooded, as the water now encompasses every tiny segment of the bathroom's tiled flooring, edging upwards to Harry's ankles, the obvious downside to having no form of barrier around the shower. Particularly in such a small space. How the designers didn't see it coming, Harry has no idea.
"Oops!"
"What?" Tobi asks in response to Harry's sudden outburst, his tone careful with an edge of concern. As he approaches Harry, he notices that the younger has one of the two body towels the hut contained wrapped around his waist already.
"Where's the second one?" Tobi asks, nodding towards Harry's lower half in a gesture regarding the rose-coloured towel he's wearing.
"Erm," Harry laughs nervously, a faint stutter to his words, "About that.." He looks pointedly down at the ground.
Tobi follows his gaze, only to find... the second towel on the floor, completely soaked as it rests within the gathering water's grip.
"For fucks sake, Harry!"
"I didn't mean to!" Harry's rushes to placate Tobi, "It fell when I was grabbing my one, sorry."
"Right," Tobi says, voice stern, his arm outstretched in a beckoning 'give here' motion, "hand me your towel, then."
Begrudgingly, Harry removes the towel from around his waist, then hands it over to his boyfriend with an exaggerated, crestfallen face. "Fine."
After that, he opens the bathroom door, glad to find the small, exotic hut camera-free, and exits the room in search of his bag of clothes. As he leaves, water drops follow him sparingly. (Not sparingly enough, according to the wet patches on the floor.)
"Chin up, princess." Tobi mocks, sounding chipper yet comforting at the same time. As he passes Harry to grab his own outfit from his bag, he forces the other to turn for a final kiss before their day of filming begins. They won't be able to be their usual level affectionate until several hours later, likely when they're both back in England and settled back at their shared flat.
Harry can't help the grin that forms on his face. Oh, how he loves the man that is Tobi Brown.