Disclaimer: I own nothing. That includes MIB and everything else.
A/N: I'd like to dedicate this one to PerfectDreamWithHim and lozzigurl as a 'thank you' for any inspiration I may have gotten from our little chats. :D
Danny woke up with his stomach growling like he hadn't eaten in ages. The sun creeping inside the room told him it should be at least lunch time, what would explain everything, except for the sour taste in his mouth and a nice perfume assaulting his nostrils. He didn't recognize such scent, but he sure liked it. It smelt familiar, and, at the same time, so peculiar.
"This must be heaven," he buried his head further into his pillow, vision still glazed by sleep and not really taking in his surroundings.
What came next, though, prompted his eyes to fly open: the pillow under his head shifted. Getting up with a leap, Danny hit his head into something hard, a muffled scream following, and he found his face pressed against Tom's crotch. He scrambled away, confused, looking at the blond's shocked face, now sporting a split lip.
"You idiot! That's how you repay me for taking care of you?" Tom ran a thumb across his bottom lip, verifying the origin of the metallic taste in his mouth. "Great! Now I'm bleeding!"
"I'm so sorry, Thomas!" He rushed on instinct to cup Tom's face, taking a closer look at his injury. "I didn't mean to!"
"Stay away from me!" Tom swatted the hands from his face, sensation of the touch still burning his cheeks, but he dismissed such thought. "What you want? Split my upper lip, as well?"
"Stop being a dickhead! Wha' were you doing under me?" Danny huffed, getting a fistful of the writer's shirt.
"That's not even a proper question! Are you listening to yourself talk?"
Their faces were now pretty closer, and all both could do was pant from all that shouting, glaring at each other. Without warning, Danny leaned forward and breathed in on Tom's neck, sending shivers down both boys' spines. At least now he knew where the pleasant smell, from he first woke up, came from. Not that things were getting any easier with the thought that Thomas Fletcher smelt good.
Tom had no reaction to Danny's subtle actions. Was he half dog? He was sure it wasn't polite to go around sniffing people's necks. The only thing he couldn't explain, was why he allowed the player do so and even closed his eyes, feeling hot breath hit his skin. Trying to force his brains to help him out, Tom tried to articulate a sentence that could get Danny away from him, as fast as possible.
"Am I interrupting something, boys?"
All it took was a shove from Danny, and Tom was on the floor, still dizzy from everything that happened so fast. Dougie stepped closer to the bed, placing his hand on Danny's forehead.
"I see you're better, mate," he smiled at the freckled boy, who seemed to have lost the ability to speak. "Great job, Tommy," he turned to offer his friend a hand.
"Erm... what exactly happened?" Danny spoke, his eyes gleaming with curiosity, sweeping over Tom's figure.
"Why don't we talk it over lunch? Harry will be here in a few minutes," Dougie smiled again, pulling Tom by the hand with him. "Your body is amazing, but you better put some more clothes on, Dan."
The blond duo left the room, leaving a confused Danny behind. Just the thought of how the day would end frightened him to the bone. He already had so much action, what included a groin on his face, smelling another male's neck, and his best mate's fiancé treating him like they had been friends all his life.
Lunch went without major problems, as a tangible silence took over the house. Except for Harry and Dougie making all the conversation, not a single word was spoken at the table. Tom divided his time between chewing and darting daggers at Danny, who seemed conscious about the fact, keeping his eyes on the plate during the meal, even when Dougie explained the misunderstanding.
"You know you don't have to eat if you think it's bad, you know?" Harry poked Danny with his fork. "I promise I won't take it to heart."
"It's delicious as always. I was just..." he trailed off, stealing a glance at Tom "...thinking."
"That would explain the face of someone who's back from a funeral. You never did that before, why would you start now?"
"You wanker!" He landed a light punch on Harry's right shoulder. "I can't tell if it's a good thing or not, that you worry about me!"
Dougie and Tom laughed watching the friendly bickering, taking their dishes to the sink. Making use the opportunity given, Dougie thought of a plan to get his friends in good terms again. He thought of blackmailing Tom with that cute photo in his phone, but he doubted the other blond would let him live after seeing such thing.
"Tommy, my favourite mate!"
"I'm not washing the dishes for you, Dougs. Already did that yesterday," he shot the boy down.
"How did you know I was about to ask you something?"
"We wouldn't be best mates If I didn't. And I've known you long enough for that."
"Good deduction, Sherlock, but I wasn't going to ask you that," Dougie pouted, before breaking into a huge smile. "What do you say about we go watch a film?"
"Do I get to choose it?" Tom seemed to contemplate the idea for a while, scratching his chin as in deep thought.
"Yeah," his friend sighed inwardly. Cinema with Tom always meant hordes of super-heroes or some Disney animation.
"I can't see why not. I was going to ask you to come with me, anyway."
"Great! We leave in two hours, ok?" Dougie beamed and returned to sit with the other two, followed behind by Tom.
"Let's all get ready, tonight we're having a lads' night!" He proclaimed. "Me and Tomnkins are taking you two out! We're not paying for you, though."
"Son of his mother! He tricked me!" Tom sported his best I'll-smother-you-in-your-sleep look, whilst feeling conscious of Danny gazing at him, confused.
"I don't think it's a good idea. I spent a whole day in bed," a freckled hand rose, as if asking for permission to speak. "I'll pass this one."
"More the reason for you to go! Besides, Tom won't be here to take care of you, it's better to keep you close, in case something happens."
Harry got the message and tried to coax Danny, as well. Certainly Dougie had an idea, which would be fun to watch him put into action. "Come on, Dan. We had a hell of a day, we owe ourselves that much!"
"Fine, we're going," he shrugged and proceeded to walk back to his room. "Just don't blame me when I die!"
The couple looked at Tom with surprised expressions, to which he responded with a 'what'. Apparently, Danny was starting to get as dramatic as Tom, if not more. Harry just ruffled his new friend's hair and went to the living room.
"Can we go, already? The sooner this nightmare ends, the better," Tom folded his arms and huffed like a little kid.
"It's just evening, Tom. Can't you at least look excited about it?"
"I was, before you turned 'Tom and Dougie's night' into a foursome," he threw one of the shirts in bed at his mate.
"It sounds so dirty, when you speak that way," Dougie compared the shirt he's in with the one Tom just threw him. "Not that I would be willing to share my Harry with you two. I'm not into this partner swapping thing."
The reply to his statement came in a form of a flying black converse, hitting him in the head. He had to admit that Tom's aim was wicked, but that would be saved for another moment, as the boy marched out the room, stomping down the stairs.
"Tommy looked pissed," Harry closed the door behind him, towel draped around his waist. "What did you say this time?"
"He was complaining about me making you two tag along, and he hit me that," he pointed to a sole black shoe a few feet away.
"Don't push it too much, Dougs. Or else, your plan will backfire on you," Harry planted a kiss on the top of his fiancé's head, and pointed to the shirt in his hand –the same one Tom had 'chosen' for him–.
Tom took some deep breaths, resting his elbows on his knees. The was no logic in him being so upset about Dougie's comment. They have been friends for forever, and it never really got him that bad, what could only make him conclude the obvious, that he was still feeling uncomfortable about that morning's episode. He didn't have enough time to dwell on it any longer, as Danny appeared with a pot of yoghurt in hand, and a spoon hanging from his lips.
The brunet looked like he jumped out of a MIB film, dressed mostly in black: his jeans, his hoodie, and pair of converse. He had a pale yellow shirt underneath, which contrasted nicely with the absence of colour from the rest of his outfit. If Tom would be honest to himself, he found himself sort of dazzled by the player's look.
"I forgot my wallet. I'll go get it," he excused himself, ready to fly his way up.
"Shthay," a hand grabbed him by the wrist. That scene seemed to have turned into something of common practise for them.
"I said, 'stay'," Danny took the spoon from his mouth. "I want to apologise for this morning. Not only for being a burden to you, but the fat lip, as well."
"Apologies accepted. Now I really have to–"
Before he could ran for a second time, Tom was pulled into a massive hug. At first, he felt awkward and just wanted it to end, but it didn't look like he was getting away any time soon, and he finally gave in, returning the hug. There was something that distinguished that one from the one they shared the day before, something that couldn't be solely explained by Danny hugging him back.
"Thank you," the boy whispered, before breaking free, spoon still in hand.
"You're welcome," the words escaped Tom's lips before he could even think, and somehow, he knew he really meant it.
"You got something on your nose," Tom chuckled. "You better wash you face before we go."
Danny rubbed his nose with the back of his hand, revealing some yoghurt. They both smiled at each other, until something caught Danny's attention.
"Stay still," he reached a hand to touch Tom's face. With a sweep motion of his thumb, he cleaned the blond's cheek, sucking on the same finger after. "Got some on your face, too."
Tom watched in disbelief, feeling an urge to just disappear on thin air. Not in the strict sense of it, but Daniel bloody Jones sort of just licked his face! With the sensation that all his blood rushed to his face, he muttered something about getting his shoe back and bolted upstairs, leaving the curly-haired boy confused for a second time.
"It was something I said, innit?"
"Calm down, Thomas. You're being overly sensitive," He tried to steady his breathing. "Grab your shoe and let's end this."
It took Tom fairly five minutes to remember that Dougie was the reason why he wasn't ready. He went back to his friends room to retrieve what was his.
"Dougs?" He knocked, but no one answered. "Dougie, I need my– OH MY GOD! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?" He slammed the door in horror, running as fast as his legs could carry him, trying to erase the image permanently burned into his memory.
"I told you I heard someone knock," Harry laughed, letting his head fall back on the mattress. "Let's get ready."
"Now I'll have to wait till we're back. Bless you, Tomnkins." Dougie put his shirt on, rolling off Harry. The hardest part would be explaining to Tom that they were only kissing.