angel cake ♡ tom holland/sebastian stan/chris evans oneshots

Roof // Tom Holland

a/n !

the song in this is single by the neighbourhood

(because apparently my music taste is right from 2015 - all i know is sweater weather and cloud 19 by kehlani)

and to Set The Mood

(not sexually but like- yano ?)

listen to it !

put this on !

the VibE works for the whole thing :)

~~~~~

Roofs are, while dangerous, your favourite place to be when you need to be alone with your thoughts. They grant you time alone and an almost definite guarantee of people taking a while to find you, cold air on crisp nights nipping your skin or balmy heat brushing sluggishly against you. This fact does not change just because you're in someone else's house - you crawl through the sky light in the attic and lie back against the roof tiles. The sky above you is dark but still your eyes close. You're supposed to be redrafting right now, but Tom is all you can think about. Giving up and thoroughly thinking about him just seems like the right thing to do.

You've been living with the Holland's for the past three weeks - you met Harry at a one-time film class about a year ago and since then have been inseparable. You live in different cities but you facetime all the time; you don't know how you would live without him. When he heard you were coming down to London for meetings and a few "appearances", he instantly offered you the spare room in his house. You accepted his offer and have spent the last few weeks becoming a friend to the entire family. But Tom... you couldn't pin why everything felt different with him, but it did. It really did.

"Hey," a voice says, footsteps tentatively coming down the roof before stopping beside you, "You okay?"

You open your eyes and look at the person - Tom. He stands with his hands in the pockets of his jeans, smiling crookedly at you. You nod and smile.

"Just another late night, you know how it is. You wanna sit with me?"

"Love to." He smiles, taking his hands out of his jeans to prevent falling while he lowers himself. You rest your head on his shoulder when he's comfortable and he reaches back to take your hand. Your fingers lace together and he sighs quietly.

"What's wrong?" You ask. He sighs again and runs his thumb over your knuckles.

"I'm really gonna miss you when you go."

Your chest swells. You hide your face in his shoulder so he can barely hear you whisper, "I'll miss you more." When he squeezes your hand hard, you know he heard.

"Who's going to steal my wardrobe when you leave? I don't know how I'm gonna cope with actually being able to wear my own clothes." He jokes and you giggle.

"It's gonna be awful for you, waking up and knowing the outfit you put out the night before is actually gonna be there."

"Speaking of, three of my shirts have gone missing and I wanted to wear one of them tomorrow. You wouldn't happen to know where they are, would you?" He turns his head to face yours, eyes twinkling. You rest your chin on his shoulder to face him fully, but now his face is so close. It's all you can see; it's intoxicating. You want to keep staring, but you know you'll cave and kiss him if you do. You drop your head, looking out at the garden and beyond instead of him. You know he's still staring, and you know you have the dopiest grin on the planet plastered on your face, so you answer his question quickly and unfortunately don't fling yourself at him.

"I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Ah, you look better in my clothes than I do anyway."

You listen to the crickets in a quiet thick enough to choke on, your head rising and falling with his shoulders. You can feel every slight movement of his fingers, every twitch, every tremble relaying back to you. It's not an explicitly sexual or romantic moment but it is so intimate.

"I really will miss you." He whispers, his head on top of yours. Your breath trembles when you exhale.

"I know."

He shifts and you pull away so he can comfortably move. He detangles your hands and wraps his arm around your shoulders. You snake yours around his waist and rest one of your legs on his. His breath leaves his lips in a rush and he pulls you closer. You bury your face in his chest.

"I don't know if we should be alone together,"

He's singing- he's singing?

"I still got a crush that's obvious, if nobody's around what's stopping us?"

You recognise the song as soon as you've gotten over the surprise - as a welcome, Harry took you to a friend's house with Sam and Tom on your first night with them. You didn't know what to expect, but you found a party. Select, small, subtle. You met all his friends and they rapidly became yours, then Harry asked you to dance with him. You accepted gladly, and for an hour you danced with him. Then this song came on and Tom whirled you away, and you danced with him. It wasn't like it was romantic or anything - you were both just jumping and gesturing and laughing.

"Everywhere I go, you show, wherever," he croons, fingers moving slowly on your shoulder. His voice is soft and it soothes you, the audio equivalent of honeyed tea.

"Just a baby-"

"But she's growing up so fast." You sing back, not really thinking about what you're doing. The rest of the line is out before you care enough to stop and you hear Tom chuckle.

He keeps singing and you listen, giving yourself the occasional line. When his chest strains to sing a higher note, you feel it.

"I am gonna miss you." He finishes softly. You pull back to cup his face, then you lean in. He meets you halfway. His lips are chapped but so gentle and caring, caressing your own with such skill it's like he's been doing it forever.

You pull back, stroking his cheek with your thumb.

"I'll miss you more."