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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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Elsa had been busy with publicity and interviews for her own films; she had been gone a large part of the day and returned only in the evening, quite exhausted after terrible rush hour traffic. Her feet hurt from standing on high heels so long, her face felt oily and gross from all the makeup, her bra felt too tight. From the kitchen there emanated sounds of something sizzling in a pan, clinking of dishware, the tap coming on and then off. She grinned tiredly as she made her way there, she pulled her purse off one shoulder and set her keys down; “You guys cook together,” she said, leaning forth against the bar to curve her aching back, “that’s so cute.”
Tom turned from where he was stirring something in the pan, he even had a fucking apron on (she didn't remember buying that?), he grinned and waved, “Hello!”
Chris turned to greet her as well, he appeared to be peeling vegetables over the sink.
“How was your day?” he asked, and Elsa was now sat on one of the bar stools, trying to pick apart the intricate fastens of her shoes. “Don’t make him anything fried, Tom,” she warned, “he’ll get fat”— because Chris had a very strict diet; Tom grinned, “He has been putting on the pounds, hasn't he?”
Chris frowned, “I have not!” and Tom laughed at that. “He’s been very good about his diet, really. This is very light canola oil.”
“Yeah,” Chris said, he tugged at Tom’s apron strings from behind, “you’re the one who made fun of my low-fat desserts.”
Tom grinned at the recollection, he turned his head momentarily when Chris pulled his strings. Elsa liked watching this, it brought a smile to her face after her long day; she was hungry, as well. There was a stack on the counter of letters that had come in the mail and she began going through it, brushing back strands of hair that fell in her face, turning her ankles in circles and making them crack; Chris glanced at her over his shoulder, aware she appeared like she could be cheered up.
“You totally missed it,” he said, “we were snogging all day.”
Tom snorted so loud he got both of them looking in his direction.
“Right,” he said, smiling sarcastically at the pan in his hand. “That is… exactly… the thing that you missed.”
“All day,” Chris repeated.
They hadn't actually snogged at all, but it did cheer Elsa up to hear it.
“And you stopped the moment I came in?” She asked, and without missing a beat Chris replied, “Yep.”
“Actually, we were cooking completely naked, until you came in.”
“With just—” Chris said, signaling his chest and abdomen, “—just aprons, you know—”
“Right, naked with aprons,” Tom nodded, “then you walked in, and I said to Chris—” he raised his eyebrows, “— you know, Elsa’s here, we ought to get dressed.”
“Right, because— this isn't— you know— something she’d want to see at all.”
“All this we said while we were snogging.”
They finally got her to laugh. “I really missed out on some good stuff!” she said, “You’ll just have to do it again now, so I can see.”
Tom and Chris were back to cooking, both smiling while going about the tasks.
“Nope, it was a one-time thing,” Tom said, “and you missed it.”
Chris turned his head partway to Elsa. He smiled toothily and winked while rubbing his hands in the kitchen towel; he then walked over to Tom and got one hand on his shoulder, startling him inadvertently, he leaned in to kiss him and completely missed. Tom scrambled with the pan, it scraped loudly on the stove top and he got the wooden spoon on Chris’ arm, staining his sleeve with the sauce.
“Shit, what are you—” he muttered, and now Chris was examining his sleeve for the stain, he was holding the fabric out and looking over his shoulder.
For Elsa, this was good enough.
They had her undivided attention, she was sat stiffly with both hands over her mouth, grinning like a kid on Christmas morning.
Tom and Chris were now laughing about it, Tom was on about how that was dangerous, and he could have burned something, and also he was apologizing for getting the spoon on Chris’ shirt.
“Look at her,” Chris smirked, “having a brilliant time.”
Tom glanced up from the pan, it was very compelling to play to her obvious interest.
She wasn't even saying anything, she was too stunned; she’d never actually seen them at it before.
“It’s like she’s under some bloody spell,” Tom grinned while going back to stirring, suddenly shy.
“Again,” she finally managed to say, completely flushed in the face, eyes bright— like she forgot how tired she was.
Tom chuckled silently, Chris was back to his side of the kitchen and shook his head without looking up. “No, that was a one-time thing.”
“That’s what you said last time!”
“Yeah, well…” he mumbled, unable to think of a good response.
“Pretend it’s for a film!” Elsa said.
“Yeah, what kind of film?” Tom couldn't help asking, it got Elsa squealing with surprise, and now Chris turned toward him, outright laughing.
“We know… exactly… what kind of film… you want to see…” he said while pointing at her, and she got both hands down on the counter, “Yes…!”
“Too bad it is not happening,” Tom said, finally turning off the stove and proceeding to the other side of the kitchen, where he began pouring the contents of the pan into a large bowl.
“Oh, come on! Now you have to!” she cried, and Tom would be lying if he’d said he didn't like the attention.
“Mate, now we have to,” Chris said without turning around, he held his hands to the sides like it couldn't be helped.
“Do we have to?” Tom asked, he wiped his hands on the towel and turned to Chris with his brow furrowed, like it were a serious matter of deliberation.
Chris glanced at Elsa, then back at Tom; they were now pretending to weigh the pros against the cons, intentionally giving her a hard time. “But the weather just isn't right for it,” Tom said with convincing severity, “the sun— isn't in the right position in the sky— oh, it’s evening, isn't it— the stars, then—”
“Just do it already…” Elsa whined miserably from behind her hands, and Tom glanced at her with pretense of serious concern. “Really suffering there, isn't she?”
“I think we ought to humor her,” Chris said.
“Yes, you ought to humor me.”
It was somehow embarrassing with her watching— and even though both Chris and Tom were used to playing to an audience, this was a different thing because she knew them very intimately.
“All right,” Chris said to Tom, “I’m doing it.” He wanted to have him prepared this time, as not to startle him again.
Elsa stiffened in hear seat, both legs and arms crossed very tight.
“All right,” Tom resigned finally, he smiled good-naturedly at Elsa, “why is it so fucking embarrassing now…”
Elsa might have muttered about how cute that was, but she didn't want to disrupt whatever might happen; she watched with breath suspended while Chris got one hand on Tom’s cheek, he leaned forth and kissed him very slowly. They both knew the sort of thing she wanted to see. They gave it their best work of passionate movie kiss, actually having a brilliant time of it, trying to outdo each other in a convincing delivery.
Elsa was completely floored. She stared with both hands clasped over her mouth, smiling widely and so overcome with love she was stupidly speechless. She chuckled, watching them go back to work after the fact like nothing happened at all, she brushed her hair behind one ear, she finally murmured, “Oh my god…”
“Happy now?” Tom asked from over the sink where now he was rinsing the pan, there was just a hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth; Chris was turned the other way and sliding the chopped vegetables into another container.
“Oh my god…” Elsa mumbled again, it came muffled from behind her hands, she was quietly chuckling. Chris couldn't remember the last time he’d seen her so giddy. “That was…” she said, “…that was the hottest thing I ever saw…”
“We should set the table,” Chris said to Tom, and Tom agreed, but they both were blushing.
They loved the way she was looking at them.
It was great fun for the rest of the evening to tease her about it, because she remained in a lightheaded state of euphoria ever since, she wasn't really listening to anything or paying attention, she didn't even eat much. Tom and Chris were aware of the power they had, the temptation to torment her about it was almost irresistible. They touched each other ever so slightly, they chose carefully calculated times to call each other darling, they made subtle references to what they’d presumably done while she wasn't home.
“Oh, would you get your foot off mine, I’m trying to have dinner,” Tom said, and Chris scoffed in surprise; he regarded him from over his fork, “That’s not what you said yesterday,” he said with a small grin.
Elsa was loving every minute of it, and she was in love with them both.
“Oh, you’re not eating anything,” Chris said, leaning toward her, “and after we've spent all this time—”
She chuckled, smiling big with her eyes tightly shut. “You guys are such— you’re so—”
“We’re so what?” Tom asked with pretense of absolute concern, he deliberately got one hand on Chris’ hand.
She was terribly easy to please. She made them feel very attractive and desirable, and was very nice toward them if only they kept it up.
They were watching a movie later that evening, and when it was over Tom had got up and stretched. “I’m going for a bath, Chris,” he said mid-yawn, “if you fancy coming with.”
It was excellent delivery and would be almost convincing if Chris hadn't known him so well: Tom showered in the mornings, after running. “But we’ve taken our bath today already,” he said, and now Elsa tossed a cushion at his head.
“I’m going to kill you. Both of you,” she laughed, “if I die of— like— sexual frustration, it’s your fault.”
“Our fault?” Tom asked with feigned astonishment, he had one hand on his chest like he was genuinely hurt; he dodged the cushion that came flying at him after that.
She watched him later while he was brushing his teeth at the bathroom sink, she was stood beside Chris in the hall. “How can a guy be so hot?” she asked, genuinely fascinated. “You’d agree with me, right?”
Chris laughed; he nodded like he was weighing it over. “He is fucking sexy,” he said. By now, it was pretty much a universally-accepted fact, and Chris was aware it had legitimate basis.
“God, his—” Elsa said, “—his ass is so— perfect!”
She continued with a complete breakdown of every bit of him, eyes bright with enthusiasm, and it was something to which everyone could relate. Chris gently mussed her hair and leaned to kiss her briskly, “I know what you want,” he said, and then left to get ready for bed.
(On to Chapter 22)
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- 22
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Bromance: A Hiddlesworth Story