Summary: surprising Tucker on the No Place Like Tour.
Warnings: fluff, bad jokes, ooc maybe
Wordcount: 1.2k
Masterlist, Hollywood Masterlist
"I wish you were here," Tucker mumbled, half asleep but still looking at her through his phone screen. The sun was still up on her side.
"We'll be together sooner than you can blink," she assured him, packing up her stuff for what he thought was a small business trip. The phone propped up on her desk, leaning against her bright screen that she had checked her flight details on minutes prior to him calling. Since then, he'd just been watching her.
From the corner of her eye, she could see him blink and then look around the room. Blinking multiple times again to drag out the joke until it's death.
"I blinked, where are you? Have you become a ghost now?" he asked, angrily looking at the screen and her laughing figure on it.
"I will ghost you if you keep acting like this?"
"You can't ghost me, baby. I live with you, remember that?"
"I will find a way, don't worry," she threatened, smiling sickly at the offended look on his face.
"Mean," he mumbled, his face falling further into the pillow.
"I love you too," she laughed, taking the phone back into our hands to tell him the tragic news she received when looking at the clock. "I need to go now, or else I'll miss my flight."
"Miss it then, I don't care. Just talk a bit longer."
"I will, soon. I promise." Looking at his puppy eyes, she felt a pang of guilt sough through her. It will be worth it though, she reminded herself. "Try blinking a few more times, maybe I'll appear then."
Before she hung up, she watched Tucker furiously blink at the camera, trying to hypnotize her and teleport her over to him.
The flight was good, at least as good as a flight can be. The anticipation and adrenaline at the thought of seeing Tucker again made it more bearable. It made it almost exciting.
Having discussed this with his manager, it was easier to get him to where she wanted. A small cafe she'd been told about by friends, where she was now sat in one of the corners with the sunlight shining down on her. Warming her already hot skin.
A few moments later, Tucker walked in alone. Looking around the room.
They'd planned it all in detail a few weeks beforehand. They would come there together, his manager saying that there was someone for the to meet (a potential sally for the night) and when they'd be in front of it, she'd excuse herself, say someone important just called and leave him to his own devices.
The rest, she could only make it up in her mind.
He'd walk in, confused and tired. Shoulders slumped down, his head hanging low. Looking around the room he'd look for someone he only knew by bare description. Finding her. His eyes lighting up, his feet dashing through the place until he picked her up.
And when he did, wrapping his arms around her waist, his face buried in the crook of her neck, she only then noticed that she missed him more than she admitted before. Cause her heart had never been beating quicker and no amount of reassurance made the emotions in her eyes wash away.
"You're- Are you really here?" Tucker asked, not quite ready to pull away just yet.
"I guess you blinked hard enough," she finally said, pulling away and taking his head in her hands.
Sitting down to eat, she'd already ordered for both of them. The food standing on the table, ready to be gone.
She'd talked about work and what he hadn't been updated about because she forgot late at night and he told her about tour. How it was so far. What the fans were doing every night and how good it felt to be on stage.
The conversation drifted from their own, personal life to the occurring night. Something he'd thought about doing for the longest time.
"When is your soundcheck?" She asked after a break in conversation.
"In about 20 minutes," he said, looking down at his phone before going back to the sandwich in his hands.
"Well, we better head back then."
Arriving at the venue, people were already lining up. Waiting to be let in in a few hours. Keeping his head low, his hood over his head, the two of them walked on the other side of the road, hand in hand. No one faced by the couple passing by. It was nice like that, so quiet and private.
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" she asked as she waited for him to get ready.
"We don't have to do anything if you don't want to," he assured her, turning around, leaning against the table and pulling her closer. Holding her waist to keep her in place for him to look at her.
She could see the determination in his eyes. He wouldn't say anything if she didn't want to. They could still pick someone from the crowd.
"I think it's better for us if we just open up," she said, fingers tracing over the details in his face. "We don't have to scream everything into the open, we can still be private."
"Your wish is my command," he said, bowing before opening the door. Waiting for her to walk through before walking through herself.
With her arms propped up on the barricade, she watched as he went though the songs. Messing up some lyrics even after singing them almost every night for the past two months and before that. Laughing as he stumbled on stage or shamelessly flirted with her because everyone in the room knew.
"OK, next one," he said, looking down on the setlist that laid in front of his feet. Smirking as he saw the title. "I wanna dedicate this song to the pretty girl in the front." Pointing right at her, the only person in the pit, his band began to laugh, still they played. "Everyone look at that woman, please."
The start to 'Look At That Woman' began playing, and even when he should get ready for the song, he still talked.
"God, she's so hot," he said, dramatically fanning his face and acting like he might faint. "You think she'll go out with me?"
He was now looking directly at her, waiting for an answer.
"Not if you keep messing up your own lyrics," she said back.
Everyone around them laughed. Taking their interactions with humor and less distaste because they made them wait, making Tucker miss his entrance. But it didn't matter to him this time, because she was stood in the first row. Eyes only focused on him; every word he sung and every step he took being noticed by her.
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