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Bromance: A Hiddlesworth Story	By : flagfish Category: Casts RPF > Thor (movies) > Thor (movies) Views: 4616 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not know Chris Hemsworth or Tom Hiddleston. This story is a work of fiction, and I make no money or profit from it.

Chapter List
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Chris and Tom got on quite well after that; even when it was clumsy and uncomfortable, their small victory had them in much improved spirits, and they laughed amicably at themselves. They gave each other small instructions on what to do, driven by the curious thrill of experimentation.
“Ah—! Right, okay, never mind that. Don’t do that,” Tom said, laughing badly into the palm of one hand, “Try it if you’re—okay, not that, either!”
Chris paused and laughed, a bit out of breath, he had both hands on Tom’s hips.
“I could do it,” he said with a small grin, “want me to? ‘Cause I could.”
He could lift him by the hips and do him like that.
“No.” Tom was propped by his elbows, pointing one finger in warning, still grinning from before. “It’s too much. Maybe after we… when we…” When we’d gotten used to doing this.
He could tell Chris wanted to show off about how strong he was. He was practically saying, I do it that way all the time.
“Bollocks, you really are…” Tom laughed, “you really could do that, you could just—”
Chris chuckled, enjoying this fully. “Yeah, I could just lift you.”
“I know you can lift me,” Tom said, because Chris had done so multiple times on set; “But, like—”
“I could lift you while, you know, while we’re…”
“Yeah, while we’re… doing this…”
“Totally different.”
“Yeah, that’s like… yeah, we’re not doing that.”
Chris laughed, then Tom laughed; “Yeah, okay,” Chris said, “We’ll just do this. This is nice.”
“So dull of me, innit,” Tom grinned, he was lain beneath Chris in the stereotypical missionary position, “I’m such a boring lay.”
“What? Nooo…” Chris frowned, but Tom continued, rolling his eyes in pretense of dramatic concern, “All these fantasies women have, where, you know—”
He was going to demonstrate with his hands, but bumped them against Chris’ forearms when he tried to get them out from between them.
“Oh— sorry— I meant— all these fantasies , where, like… all those… convoluted…”
Chris glanced down when Tom bumped his hands on him. “It’s all right— oh, the crazy… gymnastics… and that…”
“Well, it doesn’t—”
Tom started, but then his alarm went off; it was fifteen minutes past five in the morning.
“Oh, fuck—” he said, head turning to glance at his phone, which was loudly emitting the part-beep, part-melody tune that someone at Apple decided would be less scathing to hear than the tone of a regular alarm.
“Shit, it’s already morning,” Chris muttered, he slowed down and carefully moved back from over Tom so he could climb down from the mattress; he watched him proceed to his own bed, pick up his phone, turn off the alarm. Tom paused across from him, naked as the day he was born, he placed his hands on his lower back and stretched. “Bad timing for this, isn’t it,” he laughed, and Chris smiled toothily. "Yeah, didn’t realize it was this late… or this early…”
“God… I’m all… like… lube-y…”
They both laughed at that; Chris rubbed hard at his eyes and smiled, “Ahh… can’t believe we…” he yawned. “Wow, now I’m tired, because I know we have to get up.”
“You don’t have to, you can go back to sleep.”
“Yeah, think I will. For like another… what, hour…”
“Yeah, I’m gonna get ready to run.”
He was already going through his drawers for his jogging clothes; Chris watched absently from his bed, the way his behind was still a bit red from being pressed down on the mattress. Tom paused on his journey to the bathroom, he grinned knowingly at Chris.
“Wasn’t bad this time, was it?” he asked, Chris was pulling his boxers on; he gazed up from under his hair. “Yeah, it was nice!”
They both felt quite tired. Chris left the bedside lamp on before crawling back into bed, but he didn’t fall asleep straight away; he listened to the familiar sounds of Tom getting ready, his toothbrush, the rush of water, the opening and closing of the cupboard door. Something cold brushed against his leg, and he reached curiously for it— the closed tube of lubricant, he huffed in self-mockery while placing it on the bedside table nearby.
Can’t believe we actually have this, he thought, but he wasn’t upset. He actually managed to fall asleep even before Tom left that morning.
That day on set, they had double the number of inside jokes they usually had, they shoved and tackled each other, they ate each other's food; it occurred to Tom during one of Chris’ fight scenes that he really looked brilliant there, even with the wires. Before all else, they still were good friends, he thought he was starting to get used to all the stuff they were doing.
“I’m not… doing makeup unless Chris is also doing it,” he said when he was pulled off set later that afternoon, and the makeup artist turned to Chris. “Come on,” she said, “you heard him.”
“Didn’t we just do makeup, like, five minutes ago?” Chris asked, brushing his hair back from where the wind had got it in his face.
“That was…” she looked at her watch, “…almost two hours ago.”
“What, and now we have to again?”
He already was walking toward them, though, not trying to hide his smile.
“I’m not doing wardrobe unless Tom is also being made to,” he remarked.
“No one’s doing wardrobe.”
“Oh,” Chris said, “Well, good.”
Tom pushed him vaguely from behind; Chris snickered and regarded him knowingly. He waited until Tom was looking away to push him back.
(On to Chapter 17)
- 15
- 16
- 17
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Bromance: A Hiddlesworth Story