❝yours, tommy❞ | dylmas | third pov • past tense edition

chapter two

When Thomas opened his eyes, he didn't really understand right away where he was and what had just happened. It's only when he turned his head a little bit and saw Dylan next to him, watching some stuff on TV, that he understood he had fallen asleep. He slowly sat down, embarrassed of himself.

"Hey, look who just woke up," Dylan said, turning off the tv.

"Oh my god, Dyl, I'm sorry. You can't even know how dumb I feel," Thomas said, covering his eyes with his hands.

I fell asleep literally five minutes after arriving at Dylan's place, he thought, great job.

"Why? You were tired, you just had a six hours plane trip! Don't worry, you didn't even sleep much anyway,'' Dylan said, smiling.

"Yeah, but still. You must have taken me for a jerk."

"No, I didn't, Tommy. But hey do you want something to drink? I was about to ask what you'd like when I saw you sleeping. Maybe you could come with me to the kitchen? I bought so many things, so you have options."

Thomas nodded and they both got up from the couch.

He followed Dylan into the kitchen. Dylab opened the fridge and Thomas found himself stuck between the frige's door and the table.
He waited a few seconds and decided to go behind Dylan's back, laying a hand on his waist, because the gap between the fridge and the table was not so big and he had to keep his balance somehow.
His pulse quickened as he felt the warmth of Dylan's skin throughout the shirt. He didn't know if Dylan noticed the touch though, as he kept staring at the fridge, not moving an inch. He eventually ended up next to him, with now a view on the fridge as well.

"So, you can have anything you want. I got beers, Coke, lemonade, water of course, wine, some fruit juices. You have snacks in the cupboard just above your head. Glasses are in the cupboard in here..." Dylan said while moving to get a glass. "Here," he said, putting down the glass on the table.

"You want some snacks?" he added.

"Well, um, actually what time is it?" Thomas asked, scratching his neck. He blushed as he spoke. He wasn't use to decline something, even politely.

Even though it was easier with Dylan.

"It's... 7:30 pm," Dylan said after checking his phone.

"Well I could also...make you my famous creamy cheese pasta? If you want to, of course," Thomas said, because he knew those were Dylan's favorite. He already cooked that meal for him once during the press tour.

Dylan suddenly made the goofiest smile ever. "Do you really ask me if I want your pasta? You know I do!" he said, cracking up. He started running everywhere in the kitchen, handing Thomas all he needed to cook.

"Okay then, flower, take a seat and let the Chef cook."

He took a seat at the table as he was asked, and watched Thomas start the diner. Thomas noticed how his eyes shone and how his smile was as adorable as always. Everytime their eyes met, his smile got wider.

Thomas tried to stay focus on the cooking, but his heart kept pounding faster and faster as I felt Dylan staring.

God, I'm so in love with him, he thought.

🌼

"Tommyyyy."

Thomas heard Dylan call and laughed. He couldn't see him, as he was lying on the table chairs.

''What's wrong?"

"I feel useless. Are you sure I can't do something to help? Besides, you shouldn't be cooking for me. You're my guest, I should be the one cooking for you."