tw: none just fluff!
summary: for some reason, you let tom cut your hair.
"why on earth did i agree to this in the first place?" you asked, looking at yourself in the bathroom mirror.
"because i'm the best boyfriend ever and you love me," he scoffed, as if it were obvious.
"mm, i'm thinking no."
"doesn't matter! no take-backsies!"
tom sectioned off your hair, gently pulling on it to tease you. he patted the top of your head, causing you to glare at him. "see, all done. well, with the first part."
he paused, "wait, how short did you want it?"
"do a couple inches. 4 at max. i don't want you to cut off too much and have nothing left for my barber to fix."
"yes ma'am," he grinned, and you simply rolled your eyes.
"seriously, don't mess this upppp!"
"i'm an actor, darling. not a hairdresser."
"then why on earth did you beg me to let you do this?!"
"...because i thought i'd be funny? and it is! it's hilarious and i haven't even started yet!"
"i swear to god, i'm gonna shave your head off."
"hair, you mean?"
"no. head."
"you can't touch my hair," tom said, waving you off. "sony owns it."
you pressed your lips together, frowning at his triumph. "sony can't own your hair if you don't have hair," you retorted.
"yeah, yeah. don't be such a worry wart, love. it's fine," he insisted.
"jeez. just cut it already."
"okay, okay! don't rush the artist," tom muttered, "it's actually quite painful, the amount of faith you have in me."
"well, considering that you're an actor and not a hairdresser, i think i have every right," you grinned, playfully swatting him.
"hmm. well, you'll be eating your own word once you see your hair! but just in case," tom added quickly, "don't quote me on that."
"yeah, okay."
he took scissors to your hairs, just barely hovering over.
"wait!" you interrupted, turning around to face him, and then yelping again when you saw that the metal object was barely a centimeter away from you.
"hey! careful!"
"you stabbed me!"
"w-what? it didn't touch you!"
"it almost did! and then i would've had no eyes!"
"that wasn't even my fault," tommy argued back, "you're the one who spun around that fast. also," he mumbled, "you wouldn't have lost both your eyes. ...just one."
"sabotage," you hissed.
"what? where on earth are you getting this from?"
you sighed, shaking your head. "i knew you were a hitman."
he slowly turned to face you, quizzical. "wha- who would pay me to kill you? and what would they get out of that?"
"i dunno. are you insinuating i have no worth?"
"no!"
you narrowed your eyes at him, "murderer," you whispered harshly.
"oh, wow, you got me there. because that is what i was hired for."
"that would make a great movie."
"huh? a movie? girlfriend gets stabbed in one eye by boyfriend- even though it isn't boyfriend's fault -and plot twist; boyfriend is hitman?"
"yes. precisely."
"okay buddy."
"yeah. it'd be a total block-buster."
"...of course it would be."
"yep. wanna know why?"
"why?" tom asked, giving in.
"because spider-man's in it."
he tilted his head, confused.
"you! you're the lead!"
"hmm. i would make a good boyfriend. i'd capture that role perfectly."
"what? no. you'd be the girlfriend."
"then who'd be the boyfriend?"
"downey. duh. how else would it be a total block-buster?"
"well, i think it'd be one because i'm in it."
"yeah, but downey."
"but holland."
"mmmm... no. fine. maybe a bit. the girls are crazy for you."
"like you?"
"i wouldn't say crazy. maybe momentarily fazed, but even that's far-fetched. i'd say you're the one who's crazy for me."
"well, you aren't mistaken," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your cheek, which in turn made you giggle. "wait, why'd you stop me?"
"oh, right. because you have to get my hair wet first."
"ohhh. wait, really?"
"generally speaking, have you ever gotten a haircut?"
"yes!"
"okay then. anyways, do it."
"sure," he finished the last bit of his tea, before rinsing it out.
"what are you doing? why are you washing the mug in the bathroom sink? i feel like this is a valid question."
"because i'm not trying to get tea on you."
"wait, i don't get it."
once second you were nice, content, and dry. (well, as content as you could be.)
and the next you were soaking wet.
you looked up at him, jaw dropping as you moved your wet hair to one side of your face. "you. did. not."
"what? you said you needed the hair wet!"
"so you dumped a cup of tea on me?!"
"no, i dumped a mug of water on you that was originally filled with tea," upon seeing your face, he tried to amend, "but, hey, at least... you're wet?"
"no. i'm not. this wasn't arousing."
"that's not what i meant!"
"there was a spray bottle under the sink!" at hearing your words, tom turned around and open the cupboard.
"oh, yeah. there is. isn't that crazy?" he pulled it out and started to fill it.
"well, how's it matter now?"
"i just want to be thorough," he nodded, causing you to glare at him.
"sorry."
"liar."
"yes."
"okay," you sighed, "c'mon short-stack, let's get this over with."
"i'm taller than you," tom deadpanned.
"i'm... relatively... average hight."
he frowned at that, but you continued, "you, kid, are also relatively average height. for a woman."
"hey! i'm also older than you!"
"okay," you shrugged.
"don't test me, i'll shave off your head," he threatened.
"you'd never."
he dangled the scissors in front of you, a smirk on his face. "watch me."
"god! just cut it already!"
"okay, okay. impatient much?"
and because you were working on your anger management, you didn't sock him in the face. you really considered it, though.
he snipped at your hair, grinning. tommy made you close your eyes the entire time, claiming that it had to be a surprise. surprise.
"ta-da! all done!"
it... it wasn't terrible. it sucked, but it could have been worse. obviously, though, you weren't having it like that to tom's premiere tonight.
you inhaled, grabbing him by the sides of his face.
"this, babes," a pause, "is why you should stick to acting."
"in my opinion, it's not half bad."
"no, no, it's definitely more than half bad."
"beggars can't be choosers," tom said, closing his eyes and crossing his arms.
"i don't think that works in this scenario."
"hater."
"yeah, okay." you turned to your phone, which buzzed beside you.
your mouth fell agape, and your eyes widened.
leo (hair person)
i know it's short notice, but something came up. so sorry!
you looked him dead in the eye; "where's the razor?"