𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐡 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲

Twenty Five | Pastry

Y/N

TOM KISSED ME.
In front of people.
In front of really famous people.

"Hey man, you wanna split an Uber back home?" Tom asked Stomzy as our group left the restaurant rooftop and made our way down the winding stair case.

"Thought you were going back to your woman's place tonight? She live in Kingston too?" he asked curiously.

"I don't know where anywhere in this city is," I shrugged looking at Tom who said we could get the Uber to drop him off on the way home to my apartment.

Needless to say, when we dropped Stormzy off, Tom visibly sighed with relief. He had completely forgotten he was staying at my apartment tonight and fucked up by offering to split a ride with Stormzy. Tom apologised to the Uber driver before inputting my address into the destination; it wasn't far, but it was in the complete opposite direction.

"You know you can just stay at your place Tom, we are already in Kingston," I said shaking my head.

"I want to see inside your place, I'm curious to see if the production company actually gave you a solid apartment. If that's okay with you of course," he smiled.

I agreed, still feeling on cloud nine after he had kissed me. Tom Holland had actually kissed me and I had actually felt something. Not fireworks or some huge explosion of feelings but... something. After a moments silence, he mentioned it.

"I uh, I'm sorry for kissing you back there. Zendaya said that Anya told their stylist that we weren't really dating and I didn't want that spreading even further... Just tried to nip it in the bud before it became some huge rumour," he sighed.

"Oh! Oh, yeah, I was wondering why you uh, why you kissed me so randomly... Especially in front of your friends," I laughed, brushing it off casually.

I have to admit.
That hurt to hear.

I had assumed it was fake because of how over-exaggerated we were both acting when talking about the two of us going home together. All night we were constantly covering up our tracks and trying to prove a point, but the kiss kind of got me excited.

Which feels dumb now that I think about it. Why would I have gotten excited over something I know for a fact is just for show?

"It probably caught you super off guard. They were just kinda grilling me all night and yeah, sorry," he said as we thanked our Uber driver and got out of the car.

"You live near Duveteuse Patisserie! Fuck we have to get dessert and take it home," Tom said recognising the street we had been dropped off on. My apartment was above a stand of boutique stores so cars couldn't directly access it, we just had to walk from here.

"Would it be open now? It's almost ten," I chuckled, watching Tom get excited about some little French bakery that was apparently close to here.

It was quiet at this time, all the shops were closed and the bustling chatter and faint music heard through the street came from one of the only restaurants nearby. It was cold out. It was t winter but it was cold. Like 'it's late and we're outdoors' type of cold. We walked side by side, my arms crossed over my chest as Tom shoved both of his hands inside his jacket pockets.

We crossed the road when we got closer to the restaurant, not wanting to walk directly past tables filled with people who might ask Tom to stop for photos or just take them without asking. It was definitely something I had noticed Tom did whenever he was in public, he'd try to avoid mass groups whenever he could. Of course he was lovely to people when they did stop him, but he didn't love it.

"So what makes this Doova-whatever-you-said Patisserie so good? And why is it open this late?" I laughed, restarting our conversation once we passed the restaurant.

"Duveteuse? It's just- It's so good. They're open late because I guess they have the demand. Oh wait, no I think they open early in the morning, then shut at like midday? One? Then they open back up at maybe, five or six with a smaller section of fresh pastries," he said, speaking his thoughts aloud rather than explaining them to me.

The patisserie was slightly off the main road, which was predominantly closed given it was mostly retail stores. Yet, the patisserie was thriving at this time with its neon pink sign and pastel pink wood planks. It was really fucking cute.

We stood outside in a short queue, the tiny shopfront only fitting about three patrons at a time. The couple in front of us were busy having a conversation about the spaghetti they had ordered for dinner when the boyfriend noticed Tom, turned back around and lowered his voice to say 'don't look behind you but it's Tom Holland'. Of course, the girlfriend turned around and instantly gushed over him.

"I'm so sorry to interrupt you guys, but we absolutely love you Tom, especially in the MCU!" She squealed, smiling at both of us. I don't think she knew who I was which was nice, I guess only die hard Tom fans would know what I looked like.

There were countless articles resharing the leaked visa documents and it didn't take long until people found my Instagram. Maybe she did recognise me, who knows. I hope not though.

The boyfriend asked for a photo before stepping back next to me and sticking his arm out for a group photo. I wasn't planning on being in this photo but I was stuck in the middle, with the girlfriend standing on the other side of Tom. We all smiled and apologised to the people standing behind us as the line had moved forward for these stupid pastries.

"Thank you so much guys, this is so insane," the boyfriend smiled, wishing us a nice rest of our night before entering the patisserie.

"Are you ready for that to be the first photo of us together that goes viral online?" I laughed, sighing as we reached the front of the line and knowing that Tom and I's debut to the internet was going to be a fan photo.

"Nah, it won't be," he said stepping inside the little store front and ordering a box of mini pastries. He turned to me excitedly, saying that this mini box would give me a taster of all their best items. I laughed, letting him take the lead on this whole French pastry thing.

"What do you mean?" I asked once he had paid and we left the store.

"Cos a photo I post on my own Instagram is going to go viral way quicker than those two random people," he said crossing the road again to head back to my apartment.

I wasn't sure what he meant but we walked back to my apartment and I held the door open for him since his hands were full with the pastry box.

"Thank you kind Sir," he joked, kicking his shoes off at the bottom of the stairs at my front door.

"Shut up," I laughed, balancing against the wall to take my own shoes off before jogging up the narrow staircase to the main floor of the apartment.

"This is so nice man, they really hooked you up... This is something they'd rent for an actor..." he said before taking it back and apologising for it sounding bad.

He flopped down on the couch and opened the little box on my coffee table, crossing his legs on the sofa cushions and wiggling his toes in excitement like a little kid.

"Which one's the best?" I said reaching out before he held my arm back.

"Let me take a photo, if we're going viral tonight, it's because we chose to. I wanna post something dumb like, first a photo of me eating a pastry, then one of you eating a pastry, then just a pastry by itself and then like, an empty box," he laughed.

"Wow Tom, such an artistic meme post," I laughed, lifting the box up to put on the couch between us as I rested a pillow over my legs; I didn't want my dress to ride up.

"Alright pick one and pose. And get ready for the best fucking mouth orgasm you've ever experienced," he laughed, knowing that taking photos of us eating was such a dumb thing to do but insisting on us doing it anyway.