Tom Wilson One-Shots
Surprise! - A party!
“Willy…”
“Willy? Willy who? I don’t know a ‘Willy,’ so if you can excuse me…”
You crossed your arms over your chest as you lifted your head and cocked a disbelieving eyebrow. Your boyfriend, on the other hand, weakly smiled and laughed, nervously shaking the bowl of chips in his hands.
“If I recall correctly, this morning, you said you were inviting a few friends over,” you stated in a dangerously low vice, taking a step forward, which resulted in a step back from him. “If I recall correctly, this morning, you said you were just going to play video games.”
“We are playing video games,” Tom immediately chimed, but his voice trembled along with his weak smile. “Just with, uh, an audience.”
“An audience that aren’t even paying attention to the stupid video game?”
“… yes?”
“Tom!” you exclaimed, throwing your hands up and storming farther into the kitchen. You were just a mixture of emotions – anger, disappointment, disbelief, and anger – and it didn’t help that you were cramping since the morning.
Instead of taking the chance to escape, your boyfriend sighed and placed the bowl of chips down onto the counter. He walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your back into his chest. “I know,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your neck with a whimper escaping them when you shoved an elbow into his stomach. He groaned and stumbled back, mumbling to himself, “I deserved that.”
“Yes, you did!” you shouted, facing him, with your arms crossed over your chest. “We’re officially dating, Tom. No more going behind each other’s backs and doing God-knows-what – especially if that God-knows-what is in my house while I’m crampin’ it down south. Like, seriously, what were you even thinking?”
The only noise you could hear was from the party going on outside of the kitchen; music, chatter, laughter. There was even the sounds of guns shooting and shouting over whatever stupid video game the guys were playing.
“I’m sorry,” the words escaped Tom’s lips as he dropped his head in defeat. “I did invite a few guys, but then they started mentioning it to other guys and then they spread it even more…” He covered his face with his hand and sighed. “It got out of hand, and it’s New Year’s – a perfect night to party.”
You knew it was New Year’s, but after discussions about it, you and Tom agreed that this year you guys were going to spend New Year’s alone. There were many other parties going on tonight, and since you were cramping, you just didn’t want to go and Tom, wanting to relax on his break from hockey, decided to not go without you. Then, he suggested inviting a few guys over just for a few hours of video games since they kept “harassing” him over not spending New Year’s partying and promised to have them out before ten, so you could spend the rest of the night alone together.
That promise was clearly out the window.
“You couldn’t have even mentioned it before when it got out of hand?” you inquired, frowning deeply.
Before, you went to go last-minute food shopping after you realized your fridge was on the verge of being empty and your food cravings helplessly kicked in, only for you to return to a house completely swamped with people. It felt like one of those cliché TV moments when the parents leave, the child throws a party, and the parents to come back completely shocked. In this case, though, you didn’t have the heart to kick out what mostly consisted of your friends.
A hand slipped into yours, and right as you started pulling your hand away, tightened its grip. With one tug, you landed on Tom’s chest as he wrapped his arms around you, pinning you against him.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated, dipping his head to kiss the tip of your nose. “You’re right. It was wrong and stupid of me to do that behind your back, but I can’t go back in time and stop it.” He lifted your hand and kissed its palm. “If you want me to kick them out, I will.”
There was a big part of you that wanted exactly that, so you could spend a peaceful, quiet night alone with your food and Tom, but you still didn’t have the heart to kick them out – even if it was through Tom’s lips. As much as you hated it, he had a reputation of being the best party host to maintain, but it touched you that he was willing to put a dent into it for your sake.
“Don’t,” you sighed, dropping your head onto his chest, now being the one defeated. “I’ll just… deal with it, I guess.” You lifted up your head and found a mischievous grin on your boyfriend’s face.
Whether his excuse of how the party came to be was the truth or not, of course he wanted to party. Even though he told you the other day he didn’t want a party due to his stressful schedule with hockey, he loved his reputation of party host, especially when a party would somehow present himself over him. It would’ve physically pain him to end one that barely started, especially on New Year’s.
Somehow that touched you: no matter the pain, Tom wanted to make you happy. Why not throw a dog its bone?
“You have to clean the whole house by yourself tomorrow,” you chided, taking a step back, smiling. Maybe not the full bone. “No help whatsoever from me or anyone else.”
The excitement on his face never disappeared while he mock sighed and said, “Fine.”
*
“Good morning!” you exclaimed, walking into the living room, stretching your arms behind your head. You smirked at the cringe on Tom’s hungover face.
“Shut up,” he grumbled, practically crawling around the room at snail’s pace, groaning with every movement.
You walked over and crouched right in front of him, smiling while he glared. “You’re never gonna plan a party without me again, right?” you asked, a cheeky grin on your face.
“Yes.”
You pecked his lips, smiled, and stood up, heading into the kitchen. “I’ll cook you up some bacon and eggs. How does that sound?”
A sigh in relief filled the living room as he said, “That’ll be amazing thanks.”
“By the way, there’s puke in the bathroom.”
“Fuck you.”
