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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
- 19
- 20
- 21
In the days that followed, Tom and Chris had got on better than ever; on set, Chris made a point of lifting Tom any chance he had, as though to prove what he'd said of it before. They were playful as schoolboys, they fought like real brothers, they snogged each other stupid whenever they had a moment alone.
“Fancy coming to stay at my place?” Chris asked, “During the break.” Their time filming in Iceland would soon draw to a close, and they would have a couple of weeks free before filming in England.
“Coming to stay at your place?” Tom laughed, “What, just—” he lifted his hands, “—just come to Australia?”
“Or Spain,” Chris said, because Elsa had a house there where they lived part of the time.
“Spain’s easier,” Tom replied, because it was much closer to his own home; he’d be lying, though, if he’d said he didn't like to travel. “Reckon my mum would kill me if I didn't come home for the break.”
“Tell her you've been adopted.”
Tom laughed. “Adopted into the royal family?”
“That’s right.”
“This is all just so Elsa can watch, isn't it?”
“Gotta pay your keep somehow.”
Chris stretched luxuriantly in his chair, legs long and straight before him; he was visibly enjoying this.
“Yes, I suppose we do.”
“We?”
“That includes you, too, doesn't it?” Tom asked, “Paying your keep.”
Chris chuckled. “Every night.”
Elsa, of course, was all ears when they told her what they had done. She was sat with a tub of ice cream and with curlers in her hair, intently listening, vastly entertained by their obvious embarrassment as they argued about how it happened.
“Wait, wait,” she tried stopping them mid-argument, “Chris put what in you…?” This she wanted to fully enjoy.
“Just so you know, I’m doing it to him next time,” Tom could be heard in the background, and Chris tried shushing him, to no avail. “Tell her next time I’m doing you.”
Tom could hear her appreciative cheer from the phone in Chris’ hand, she was very interested in seeing this.
“He’s upset that I lifted him,” Chris quietly told her, smugly grinning; Tom nodded, “I am…!”
“But you lift him all the time,” Elsa said, like it were simple logic, and Chris was glad someone finally saw reason. “I know…!”
It was a shame you were only allowed to have one husband, because she would have liked them both.
--
Tom’s greatest concern on visiting Spain was finding a proper jogging route. It hadn't been so bad in Iceland, because their apartment was intentionally close to open wildlife areas used for filming— but Elsa’s house was surrounded by many small streets. He wound up devising a convoluted route that had him turn so many corners he’d nearly got lost, and he challenged himself to remember it exactly for the following day.
Elsa had a very large house, the kind with character and history, which was most certainly haunted if you were imaginative enough; she took care of Chris in an almost maternal way and showed Tom the same kindness, she loved watching and listening to them like they were rare and precious toys.
On the night of their arrival, Tom could tell she was devouring Chris with her eyes, like she hadn't eaten in ages and was visibly starving. “Go ahead,” he smiled at her with knowing kindness, all elegance and charm; “I’ll wait.”
“I’ll only be a minute…!” she promised while tugging Chris by the hand, she shouted incoherently to Tom about making himself at home, how there was food in the fridge, the password to their wifi. He remained at the entrance with their luggage still at his side, smile still plastered to his face, absently picking at his gloves. He really did feel somehow at home, even if he’d never been there.
In bed, Elsa said to Chris, “Come to me after you've been with him; I want to taste him off you.”
It got him curiously hot.
She took much longer than a minute, Tom was passed out in the family room in front of the telly by the time she and Chris had come down the stairs. “I’ll drag him by the feet, you take his arms,” she whispered in jest, “we can be done with him before he wakes up.”
Chris laughed and gently shoved her, “You have got… the dirtiest mind…” he grinned, “besides, he’ll definitely wake up.”
“You really fucked him,” she whispered, sizing Tom up like Chris won her respect for it, and Chris flushed; he felt mostly embarrassed, but also flattered by the unmistakable reverence in her voice.
“I really did,” he whispered back. They both wanted him, but wanting Tom was hardly uncommon among the human race nowadays.
Chris had got so used to sharing a room with him it would feel strange not to do so now; Elsa was almost too obvious when she gave them a room together. She may well have said, just do your thing, I’m definitely not planning on coming in to watch.
“You gave us—” Tom said, he turned toward her with one eyebrow raised, “—one bloody bed?”
She held her hands to her sides in pretense of absolute innocence. “That’s how the room is…!” she explained, like it couldn't be helped. “There’s just one bed in this room.”
“A-ha,” Tom replied, trying hard not to laugh. “That’s just an intrinsic property of the room.”
“That nothing can be done about,” Chris added skeptically, and Elsa smiled like finally they all were seeing eye to eye. “Yes…!” she replied, “I’m really so sorry… terrible inconvenience, but it can’t be helped.”
“Terrible,” Chris shook his head, “especially considering there used to be a second bed in here.”
“Was there?” Tom asked, and now Elsa acted utterly stunned. “There was?”
She stood on tiptoe to kiss Chris good night, they could hear her musing aloud on her departure, “Whatever happened to that second bed?”
“Cheeky,” Tom said when they were alone, the room was plenty large and his luggage fit comfortably; he had it open on the floor and was rummaging through. “Your house is beautiful, really,” he said, “thank you for letting me stay.”
“Hey, I asked you to,” Chris replied, “nice to have a break from work, though, innit? Finally, we can sleep in.”
“Oh— actually, I get up early— you know—”
“Right, for running.”
“For running, yeah.”
“You lot snogging in there?” there came a shout from somewhere down the hall.
Chris and Tom exchanged glances.
“Absolutely…!” Chris shouted back.
“Snogging very… heavily…!” Tom called. “Anyway, you can come along on my run, if you fancy it.” He tugged his shirt over his head and reached for his pajama top.
“Nah, it’s all right,” Chris replied, he pulled the sheets back on his side of the bed; at least the mattress was larger than the ones they had in Iceland, it wouldn't be so crowded this time. “I wanna sleep in.”
Tom could tell once he’d got beneath the covers there was real luxury here: the sheets were the sort you’d expect at an expensive hotel, the mattress was comprised of orthopedic foam that molded to the shape of your back.
“Ohh, this is well nice—” he sighed as he sank into it, “this is… perfect…”
Chris was vastly amused. “The other bed that used to be in here was better,” he said.
“Was it?”
“Nah, I’m making it up. Think it was the same kind.”
They half expected Elsa to shout to them again about whether now they were snogging, but she’d left them alone; she had a good heart, letting Chris keep Tom company for the night after not seeing her husband in so long. It was why she’d taken ages with Chris before, to have her fill of him. She had them stay together deliberately, so they wouldn't feel it was somehow wrong, that they would remember she liked it.
“This really is nice, isn't it,” Chris said as he lay on his back, he turned his head to Tom like they were two kids at a sleepover. “This mattress is brilliant.”
“It really is,” Tom replied, “was worth coming here just for this.”
They regarded each other in the dim lamplight before leaning in to kiss very slowly.
“She wants me to come to her after I've been with you,” Chris murmured softly, their hands remained loose on each other's cheeks.
Tom’s brow furrowed; it was flattering, this he couldn't deny. “Does she?” He asked, his voice so delicate and airy he might not have spoken at all. He remembered how she had chastised him on the phone some weeks before, aware that Chris was very profoundly loved.
They closed the small distance between them, inexplicably gentle when they kissed and curiously innocent. “Should I shout out that we’re snogging now?” Chris asked, and Tom’s laugh was warm against his lips; “Yes. Shout she has five seconds to get in here before we stop.”
“Five seconds, that’s cruel.”
“All right, six.”
(On to Chapter 21)
A/N: I saw Only Lovers Left Alive, finally. Tom's character was so vulnerable and dependent, I really liked both his and Tilda's parts; now I feel like writing hella fics along that chord, but I only really like writing M/M so we'll see.
- 19
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- 21
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Bromance: A Hiddlesworth Story