"I want it!"
You look up from the book you have in your hands, glancing over to Ezra who is pointing at a stuffed orca whale plush. You're currently in the only little shop of the Juneau International Airport, watching over Ezra as Tom heads to the bathroom.
You set the book back on its rack before walking over to the little boy, bending down to his level to look at the plushie. The second you're kneeling beside him the boy latches on, leaning into you as his hand grabs at your puffy coat sleeve.
"What would you name the whale?" You ask.
Ezra bites his lower lip in thought, "Sprinkles!"
You can't stop the bright smile from crossing your face, and before you know it you're leaning in and pressing a kiss to Ezra's forehead. It's when you kiss half head and half hair that you realize he probably needs a haircut either in New York or back in London.
"Go ahead and grab one," you say and point to the whales.
Ezra lurches forward and grabs Sprinkles, holding the whale tight with a gleeful look on his chubby face.
Standing back up you grab a few more things for the flight; gum, water, some crackers and pretzels. You even grab a Juneau themed keychain for Harrison because he's the type of idiot who'd love that tchotchke shit. By the time you and Ezra are back at the gate for the flight—the first of four flights; here to Seattle, then to L.A, and then finally to New York—Tom has yet to return from the bathroom.
"Y/N look," Ezra says, standing in his seat, holding up Sprinkles, "she flies!"
With that the boy tosses the orca to the ground, giggling as he rushes to pick the plushie up. The two of you take turns making Sprinkles "fly" for a bit but stop when you catch sight of Tom walking over. He looks incredibly soft in his sweats and jacket, but more importantly he's holding two cups and extending one out to you.
"Thought you could use some," Tom says tiredly before taking a seat beside you.
You sip at the drink, feeling warm inside knowing he remembers your favorite drink. With a yawn of your own you sink into your seat a bit further, knowing to wait until the plane ride to sleep. Earlier this morning, the three of you had said goodbye to your parent's house. Josephine was particularly upset at the fact the three of you had to leave.
You promised to fly back or fly her out within the coming months, and it seemed to soothe her.
Your father had drove the three of you to the airport, already having to go to town for some work things anyways. A part of you was overjoyed to see your father scoop up Ezra and give him a big goodbye squeeze. When he hugged Tom, you couldn't help but relax; because a hug from your father meant approval and that means the world to you.
It's bittersweet to leave, especially after being gone for so long.
"Lost in thought?" Tom prods.
"Hmm? No, I'm just a bit tired," you say and look up at Tom.
His soft brown eyes are just that...so soft.
Tom's arm twitches a bit and you stiffen, because you know what he wants to do. You frown as you shake your head, sitting up a bit straighter. As much as you want to curl into his warmth as his arm drapes over your shoulders, he's already getting enough slick-but-not-so-slick photos being taken. Neither of you are ready to have this out yet.
Whatever this ends up being.
"Flight 06A to Seattle, Washington will begin boarding. Any passengers with an A-1 on their tickets please begin to line up."
Tom stands and hoists Ezra into his arms while you grab the single carry on which hosts everything from your tickets to snacks. You grab the tickets before slinging the backpack over your shoulders, walking up to the boarding desk. A few other families with small children follow suit, waiting to board as well.
"Unca Haz?" Ezra asks excitedly.
Tom nods, "we'll see him in New York, we just have to get there first bug."
"On planes," Ezra says with confidence.
"On planes," Tom agrees with a smile, rubbing hand up and down the boy's back.
It's surreal this time. Instead of consoling a broken-hearted toddler, watching Tom board a plane, you get to be a part of that now. You're with a very happy toddler, with Tom, boarding a plane together. It's much more pleasant.
After another minute or so the line begins to move and the three of you are walking into the plane. It smells like brewing coffee and sterile air. The cold air from the outside seeps inside from where the on ramp connects to the open door of the plane and makes the cabin a bit chilly. You look at your tickets and find the row of seats you are assigned.
"Window!" Ezra beams.
"Actually, you're gonna sit in the middle between Daddy and me. Okay?" You say to the boy.
Ezra pouts, "I want the window."
You glance past Tom to see other passengers patiently waiting to pass down the aisle. Making the executive decision you carefully direct Tom to sit at the window seat—Ezra half on his lap— and you take the aisle seat, leaving the middle one open. You set the backpack on the ground in front of the middle one since Ezra doesn't need the leg room.
"You can sit on my lap after we take off. How about that?" Tom offers.
Ezra continues to pout, eyes getting watery the more he realizes he's not getting what he wants. This is an example of how things start to get complicated. Tom's right, he wouldn't fly across the world for just a nanny, but that doesn't mean you're Ezra's mother. You don't necessarily get to parent him, or maybe you do.
It's all so blurred.
Tom takes the reigns though, and you let yourself breathe.
"Ezra James," Tom says firmly which gets the boy's attention quickly, "I need you to calm down and talk to me like a big boy right now. What's the problem?"
Ezra starts to whine—
"Is that how big boy's talk?" Tom continues, eyebrows furrowed.
"I wanna sit with the window," Ezra mumbles.
"And where did Y/N tell you where to sit?" Tom asks.
Ezra simply points at the middle seat.
"Okay, so you are going to sit there, but when the plane is high enough you can come sit on my lap and look out the window," Tom finishes, "alright?"
"Okay," Ezra huffs.
Tom leans forward and kisses his son's forehead. Ezra is such a daddy's boy, and it's like the semi-meltdown never happened as he curls closer into his father's hold. You take off your jacket and set it on the middle seat, spreading it flat because there isn't much room and you don't feel like putting it on the floor. When it comes time for Ezra to sit and buckle up he makes a little nest out of your jacket to sit on, holding Sprinkles close. It's the bumpy lift off that keeps Ezra quiet, the boy a little startled with the shaking of the plane as the ground gets further and further away.
When his little hand searches for yours, you can't help but feel warm and cozy on the inside.
From then on out the plane ride is easy. Ezra naps, colors, looks out the window, devours his snacks. The only tricky part is when the tyke has to use the bathroom not once but twice. You and Tom take turns, which feels a bit domestic. A little too domestic when things are supposed to be new and undiscovered.
Seattle brings some pretty good coffee, L.A brings photo ops and a sea of autographs, but finally after a whole day and then some of travel the three of you finally touch down in New York. JFK is busy as per usual, but the three of you make a quick escape to the SUV waiting in arrivals.
"Haz!"
"Little man! I missed you!" Harrison beams, catching Ezra as the boy rushes to his uncle.
You can't keep the smile off your face as the two hug for a few good moments.
"Alaska made you paler mate."
Tom rolls his eyes, punching Harrison's arm before hugging him as well, "good to see you too you dickhead."
Finally, Harrison looks to you, eyebrows raised, "so...everything alright now?"
You look to Tom who nervously waits for the answer. With a nod you look back to Harrison, going in for a hug for yourself, "yeah. Everything's on track."
"Good," Harrison whispers in your ear.
You squeeze him tighter.
"Alright, come on I'm tired and Ezra needs to eat a real meal," Tom speaks up.
The four of you pile into the SUV, the driver greeting you as you do. Harrison takes shotgun, Tom gets middle row beside Ezra's car seat, meanwhile—not that you mind—you are in the back row. You can't help but gaze out the window most of the ride, in awe of the giant empire that is New York. Of course, there are the lower end neighborhoods, but what they don't have in money they make up in character. Grand Central Park is much smaller looking in movies, because being here you realize just how massive it is.
You feel very out of place when the SUV finally pulls up to a very fancy and expensive looking hotel.
"Is this where you're staying?" You ask Harrison.
"This is where we're staying too Darling," Tom answers instead.
Your eyes widening give away your shock.
Harrison gets your attention, "not usually our M.O for filming, it's just for you and Ezra until you two kick it back in London."
"You didn't have to—" You begin to Tom under your breath.
"I wanted to," Tom says with sincerity.
You bite your tongue, taking a breath before nodding, "okay."
You get Ezra from his car seat, the boy nestled against your hip as you carry him to the front doors of the hotel. Tom and Harrison have the bags and suitcases handled, helping the bellhop load it up on the cart. It's surreal when doormen open the door for you, this is probably the first of many firsts.
"I feel like every step I take I decrease the value of this place," you tease.
Tom laughs, his hand cupping the curve of your lower back for the briefest of seconds, "relax."
"Mm-hmm," you huff and step into the elevator.
"Down please," Ezra says, kicking his legs a bit.
The whole saying please thing is developing nicely.
"Okay," you nod and set the boy down.
Ezra signs 'thank you' in ASL. You grin and give him an 'I love you' in return; Ezra beams like no other. Your eyes take in the box you stand in; the marble flooring, the mirror ceiling, the fancy golden elevator buttons. When the lift stops, and you exit you're confronted with a single hallway with a lavish looking door.
"We needed to upgrade to a bigger suite. More bedrooms," Harrison answers before you even ask.
A bigger suite.
Inside is a whole other story. Floor to ceiling windows, a formal living room and full kitchen. Down the ways is a hall that has a few more doors, one a glass set of French ones that lead to a small balcony.
"This is...incredible," you say breathlessly.
You approach the window, looking out to the skyline and out towards central park. It's a truly captivating view. Before you can even think about anything you get an earful of Ezra babbling and begging Harrison to move.
"Huh?" You ask, having tuned out the conversation while looking out the window.
Harrison smirks, "I just offered to take Ezra out to get some food, maybe go tire him out at the park."
"Haz I don't think—" Tom starts.
"Yeah I agree, I don't think—" You add.
"What do you say Ez? You want some time with your uncle?" Harrison asks.
That's unfair and dirty, using Ezra against the two of you.
"Yes!" Ezra jumps up and down, looking Tom with big eyes, "please Daddy."
Looks like the whole saying please thing is developing too well.
Tom opens and closes his mouth a few times, clearly at a dead end as he reluctantly says, "alright. But nothing too sugary Harrison. He really needs to sleep tonight."
"Gotcha mate," Harrison agrees and looks between you and Tom, "enjoy the suite."
"You f—" you start.
"Aye, child ears!" Harrison rushes as he all but runs with Ezra out the door.
You pause, waiting until Ezra's excited words fade away until it's just you and Tom.
Tom looks at you with a nervous look, "we don't have to...."
"I know."
The two of you stand there for a few more beats.
"Well, I'm gonna go shower the plane off," you say awkwardly.
Tom gapes for the slightest second before points down the hall, "good idea. That's...yeah good."
With that you grab your suitcase and roll it down the hall, stopping to look through the doors. There is an office room. There is a bedroom with an en-suite bathroom and then an impossibly larger bedroom with a huge en-suite. The smaller room already has Harrison's things in it.
How convenient.
With a small sigh you walk into the master bedroom, grabbing the things you need from your suitcase before closing yourself in the bathroom. You gawk at the jet jacuzzi bath and the rain head shower, the chrome finishings, even the soft towels provided.
"You really go all out to prove yourself, don't you Tom?" You ask yourself quietly.
You strip your clothes off, shivering when your skin is fully exposed, the hairs on the back of your neck sticking up. The shower controls are a bit confusing to get the hang of, but once you do you make quick work of the shower, rinsing off all the planes you've been on. You don't shut the water off until every inch of you has been scrubbed.
Using your hand, you wipe the steam from the mirror, looking at your fresh face. You really don't miss how traveling makes you break out. You towel dry your hair as much as you can before wrapping a towel around your body, heading into the bedroom to grab your clothes.
"So, I—"
You jump and let out a yelp, spinning around as your hold your towel close.
Tom is standing at the door, wide eyed.
"Jesus, you can't just...sneak up like that!" You gasp.
"Sorry," Tom winces.
The reality of the situation settles on you then, and your cheeks redden, "um, Tom I'm a bit naked here."
"Technically you've got a towel," Tom says cheekily, "also I've seen you naked before."
You chuckle fondly, "okay Mr. Technicality, what was so important that you needed to tell me?"
Tom clams up a bit then, looking a bit hesitant now.
"You flew to Alaska just for me, I've peed with the door open with you before. Whatever it is, I'm sure it's nothing serious," you encourage.
Those words seem to do it. A determined look crosses Tom's face as he walks into the room, shutting the door behind him with a soft click. You stiffen when he stops right in front of you, his eyes searching your face.
Even after a day and a half of travel he still smells wonderful to you.
"Yes?" You push a bit further.
"I was going to say," Tom starts, his hands suddenly resting on the curve of your waist, "that I know I said we don't have to do anything."
Your eyebrows raise in surprise.
"Uh-huh. And?" You continue.
Tom takes a deep breath, leaning in closer, "that doesn't mean I don't want to do anything."
"Oh, you do?" You ask.
"Yeah, I do Love," Tom nods, his nose brushing against yours.
"Say that again."
"What?"
You let your arms leave your towel, wrapping around Tom's neck; which in turn lets the white cotton fall from your body. It catches on where Tom's hands are, but he's quick the shove the material off and away so you're completely bare.
"Call me love again, I like it," you smile softly.
"Love," Tom grins, and punctuates every time he says it with a quick kiss, "love, love, love."
"How long do you think we have?" You ask against Tom's lips.
Tom shrugs, "Harrison probably knows what we're up to. I'd give us an hour, hour and a half."
"Perfect," you smile.
With that you press against Tom, leaning up to kiss him properly, savoring every second of it.