Work Text:
During Tom's leave, he took you to visit his hometown. Once you arrived, you realized that you probably should have asked him about the temperatures there around this time of year. Beforehand, not only on the plane shortly before landing like you did.
“You're only asking that now?” He turned to you in shock. “Did you pack accordingly? Warm clothes, scarf, gloves?”
“Yeah, don't worry,” you replied, kissing his cheek.
You hadn't packed accordingly. And while you had brought a scarf, you had been living in Miramar for long enough to think there was no need for gloves. In fact, you didn't even own any. Whatever, you thought, you would survive.
One of the first things you did was take a walk through the town while Tom showed you some spots where he had used to hang out when he had been younger, where he had gone to school, which of his favorite restaurants were still run by the same family.
While you loved listening to his stories and were happy that he was sharing all of this with you, you soon found it was much colder than you had expected. You instinctively went to tuck your hands into your pockets, but then you realized that the coat you were wearing had none. So you subtly rubbed your hands together as you walked, hoping Tom wouldn't notice you were freezing.
As if on cue, he frowned at you and asked, “Are you okay? You look like you're cold.”
“Hm? No, no, I'm fine.” You quickly shook your head and flashed him a smile.
He nodded slowly, not quite believing you, but you both continued walking. While telling you his anecdotes, he often turned to look at you and at some point when you reached up to readjust your scarf, he saw that your hands were very visibly cold and dry.
With a sigh, he stopped in his tracks and gently but firmly grabbed your arm to make you halt as well. He stood in front of you, tilting his head and looking at you with a mixed expression of annoyance and sympathy. “Darling, stop trying to tell me you're not cold.”
“I'm sorry?” Actually, you were sorry but also embarrassed because you were so unprepared. In your defense, you had been too nervous about meeting his family and other people who knew him well for the first time to bother informing yourself about the weather and what to wear.
Tom stepped closer to you and took your hands in his, slowly rubbing them. “God, you feel like you came right out of the freezer,” he mumbled and intertwined your fingers before tucking both of your hands into the pockets of his coat.
You smiled and felt your cheeks turning pink—only from the cold, of course. Your boyfriend smiled even wider and looked into your eyes while you stood there for a few minutes, holding hands inside his pockets to warm you up.
Normally, you would have made out with him on the spot if he looked at you for so long and that way, but you were still in public, in a town you were new to. Eventually, you broke the silence. “For someone whose callsign is Iceman, you sure have warm hands.”
He laughed and stroked your hands with his thumbs. “You see, holding hands with all pilots wasn't part of the name choosing process.”
“I'd hope so,” you teased.
After a short pause, Tom leaned in to kiss you softly, hands still in his pockets. “Better?” he whispered when he pulled away.
“Yeah.”
“Good, now let's buy you some gloves,” he grinned and let go of one of your hands, clasping the other as you went to find a clothing store together.
