Title: Watching
Characters/Pairing: Doug Penhall, Tom Hanson – Doug/Tom
Rating: K+
Warnings: slash
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Summary: One-shot! Tom watches Doug.
Author's Notes: Not angst! Right, so kinda erm gushy, maybe, I don't know, and there's no angst in here! Be amazed... Alright, so my chaptered stories are coming out slowly, as are my drabbles, but I found this on my computer half-finished so I completed it to fill in the gap of my updating.
Tom watched Doug, memorizing his body – the way his features changed when he made a mistake, his eyebrows drawing together and his lips forming a small pout, and then the way the frown turned into a goofy grin when he fixed the mistake; the way his shoulders relaxed, whether he was angry or happy. And his eyes. Tom couldn't see them now, but he had known since he met Doug how brown they there, slightly lighter than his own, and the way they reflected emotion, be it pain or love, hate or aggression, they always reflected the emotion broadly, like a movie on a theatre screen. And Tom loved how easily Doug could show his emotions, enjoyed guessing what Doug was feeling just by his eyes. And he was usually right. Then Doug was looking at Tom, who smiled, embarrassed at being caught, then Doug smiled as well and Tom knew exactly what emotion he could find shining in Doug's eyes. Because Tom saw love, clouding across Doug's eyes easily, and Tom smiled, head lowering, because Doug loved him. Tom began laughing slightly at this thought, though, realizing just how childish and girly he felt, but he didn't care because he loved Doug, loved Doug just as much as Doug loved him.
Doug glared angrily at the sheet of paper in front of him, felt his eyebrows as they pulled together, his skin going taut at the pressure, his mistake glaring back at him just as easily, mocking him, making sure that Doug knew he he had dome something wrong. His shoulders were hunched as well, although that had been caused by the stress of the mountainous pile of paperwork siting on the desk beside him, a constant reminder of how much work there was to do – and that maybe next time he should do all of his paperwork on time so that he wouldn't run into this problem anymore. He allowed the frown on his lips to form into a pout, as if hoping that the paper would feel sorry for him and fix the mistake itself. It didn't but the pout still changed, forming into an exaggerated grin as Doug found out what he had done wrong and how he could fix it, reaching for the eraser a few inches away from his left hand, silently laughing at Tom's rants about doing paperwork in pen – if Doug were to do it in pen, then the whole sheet might end up in scratched out words and scribbled over mistakes. Nope, a pencil and his handy eraser worked just fine. As his shoulders began to relax, the pressure easing in his face and heart, stress lessened, Doug began rubbing at the paper, easily ridding the world of his mistake, banishing it forever. And then his skin began to feel funny, tingling, the odd feeling that he was being watched creeping over him slowly, gaining control of his senses and causing his body to shake slightly. He looked up then, glancing right across the room to look at Tom, knowing that if anybody were watching him, that it would be Tom. And he was, except now he was smiling, almost laughing, and Doug smiled back because he knew he had caught Tom. And then Tom was glancing away quickly, his head lowering, a bigger smile forming. Doug didn't mind that he wasn't watching anymore, though, because he loved Tom Hanson: he loved everything about him, and he especially loved the fact of how much Tom seemed to love him back.