Chapter 3 Why Tom?
Disclaimer: I do not own Tom or Dorian. Oscar Wilde and Mark Twain do.
Rated: R, just to be on the safe side.
Warning: slash and lots of naughtiness.
################## Dorian's POV #################
I awoke the next morning with Tom up against my body. He looked like some little kid; I wonder how old he was anyway? His blonde hair was messier than usual; I would have to do something about that. I don't understand men who don't take care of their looks.
I wondered what it was I saw in him. He wasn't that attractive. Half the time he looked like some messy little kid. God, I hated that hair. But besides me, he was better looking then the man aboard this ship.
I would never let anyone know this, but I felt so happy when he kissed me. I felt, dear God I can't believe I'm saying this, like a schoolboy again. I wondered how betrayed he would feel if he found out why I was really on this mission?
"Dorian are you awake?" Tom asked, in his sweet southern drawl.
"Yes, Tom I am. It's hard to stay asleep with you moving around so much," I replied.
"Well, I just hope you got enough beauty sleep," he teased.
"You better watch your tongue or I'll go fetch that brush again," I warned.
Tom laughed and kissed me.
"You know, Dorian, you aren't such a bastard."
"Why, thank you, Tom. You are probably the only person on this ship who thinks that," I replied.
"Speaking of the people on the ship, are we gonna tell them?" he asked.
I could see fear in their eyes.
"I want to tell them. I like making my conquests known. But I don't think you want to tell them."
"It's not that I don't want people to know about us, it's just that…"
"You don't want to see their reactions, right?"
"Right."
"Don't worry Tom we won't tell them until the time is right," I said.
He sighed a breath of relief.
"Come, Tom, we should really get up. Or the might come looking for us," I said.
"Yeah, I wonder what mission we are on today."
I kept my mouth shut. I wanted to tell him my secret so badly. But I knew I couldn't. I was getting dressed as Tom started leave.
"Don't leave yet," I said.
"Can't stand being away from me?" he asked, teasingly.
"Well, that, and I have to do something with that hair."