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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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That Tom and Chris were in love was clear, but it was a delicate matter: it wasn't something they would admit to themselves or each other. That was, they had no qualms saying they loved each other like brothers, because that still sounded normal— but that made it hotter anyway.
Elsa was far less timid about doing things to Chris than Tom was, but that was understandable; she wasn't nervous or shy, and she knew the boys would be— she was gonna teach them what to do.
She had gone downstairs and brought an entire bottle of cooking oil, and was disappointed on her return to find Chris and Tom weren't passionately dry humping or banging each other or making out. No, they were bloody watching telly, sat cross legged on the bed with cushions over their manhood, like they really had no clue without her help.
“What the hell?” she asked, turning her gaze from them to the TV, “You’re watching Spongebob?!”
It was dubbed in Spanish, too, there was no way they understood anything.
She flipped the TV off, and Chris cried, “Hey! We were watching that!”
“You can’t even understand what they're saying."
“We’re learning Spanish,” Tom said, and Chris added, “I like how he sounds in Spanish.”
“Is that—” Tom squinted, “Is that canola oil?”
“What? Yeah, that’s— how can you lot start watching— I was only gone for like two minutes!”
“Nervous,” Tom nodded wisely, “we’re nervous.”
Elsa had reached the bed and set the oil at the small table at its side. “Right, enough of this—” she said and tugged at Chris’ pillow, “get this off, I can’t believe you guys.”
“What are we doing with the oil?” Chris asked like he didn't fucking know, and Tom laughed, “these things get messier every time, don’t they?”
“Yeah, last time with the—”
“Yeah, the ice cream.”
“Well, don’t worry,” Elsa said while prompting Chris to turn around, “this is— what did you call it? Very light canola oil.”
“What are we— what are you having me do?” Chris asked tentatively, there was the subtlest note of fear in his voice.
“I’m going to get you lot to do it right, because you’re a couple of— because you’re too— ”
“Because we never do anything right by ourselves,” Tom smiled knowingly, and Elsa pointed to him and nodded, “Exactly, yes!”
She was shamelessly getting Chris turned around in a position that had him visibly embarrassed, he was reluctant and tried to turn back, but she made him stay. “Pretend it’s for a film,” she said, and Chris snickered, “I've not done that kind of film.”
“Well, maybe you should.”
“He should, shouldn't he?” Tom asked, and Chris chuckled in embarrassment, “You know I’m going to kill you.”
“Quiet,” Elsa said and smacked Chris briskly on the behind, “behave.”
“Oh!” Chris laughed, “It’s like that!”
“It’s like that, is it!” Tom laughed along, he was just as embarrassed as Chris.
“What, you fancy being slapped too?” She asked Tom, and after realizing what she asked her eyes glittered with the thrill of new ideas.
“Oh, no. No, no, we’re not— no,” Tom smiled, now Chris turned partway around and smacked Tom playfully on the ass. Tom tried to dodge, but it was too late; “Hey…!” he yelped.
“God, look, she’s enjoying this way too much.”
“No, please, keep going!” Elsa said, “you can wrestle right here, we've got the oil and everything…”
“Wrestling, is that what we’re doing now?” Chris asked, and it was actually far more compelling to both him and Tom than what Elsa was about to make them do.
All in all, it was hard for her to keep her eyes off Tom; he was visibly trying not to act afraid or nervous, deliberately not covering himself again; he knew she was eating him up with her eyes. He was becoming accustomed to these gazes from women, and had always been very nice about it.
“Should I turn around, too?” he joked, “maybe, you know, dance a little—” he made as though he was really going to start dancing, and Elsa chuckled in surprise, now Chris glanced over his shoulder, too. “What are you—”
“Yes!” Elsa cried, “I wanna see you dance!”
“No, no… maybe later…” Tom said, but he was already dancing a little in place, the show-off. He and Chris were stalling.
“You are— you’re a huge tease…!” Elsa laughed, she could tell he thought he could pull off a pretty impressive show. But he wasn't going to give her one, and he was tremendously distracting— maybe by now Chris was getting used to being stood on all fours like that.
“Anyway, come here, you've done this, you told me.”
“Done what?” Chris asked, and Elsa gently patted his thigh. “You be quiet,” she pulled Tom closer by the wrist.
“Right, this doesn't concern you,” Tom said, and Chris replied, “Sorry, I forgot.”
Chris was embarrassed despite himself, and kept trying to look over his shoulder suspiciously.
“Don’t… you’re not gonna do anything… like… painful, are you?” he asked.
Now even Tom began telling him to shut up. “Mate, just chill out…”
“Yeah, no wonder you guys took so long doing anything,” Elsa said, “if you’re like that…”
This was embarrassing to Tom, too, having to stare at Chris from behind this way— but Elsa was doing it, and according to the universal laws that dictated what was okay for a guy to find arousing, having her do it made it okay.
Was this hot? He wasn't sure.
She got both hands on Chris’ behind and leaned forth toward him, she told Tom to watch. “But you did this, right, you told me you did— so you should know how—”
Chris had gone dutifully quiet, because he felt her breath on him and the warmth of her lips, he anticipated what she was going to do even despite the embarrassment of being watched. Tom couldn't really see with her hair in the way, but he said nothing of it, by then he was relatively certain it was hot.
Chris went still, head hung forth, like he held back commentary he might have made were he alone with either of them.
After some moments, Elsa pulled back, she brushed her hair from her face and swiped at her lips. “Okay, now you,” she said to Tom, and he completely saw this coming.
“I knew you were gonna say that—”
“Don’t— make him—” Chris said, “if he doesn't want to—”
“No one’s talking to you,” Elsa said amicably to Chris, she didn't want them to discourage each other.
“Right, it’s okay,” Tom said, he leaned forth and got his hands on Chris’ thighs, reminding himself that he’d done this.
It’s just acting, he thought, and women like watching this— so make it good.
“You’d best enjoy this,” he said to Elsa with his most charming grin, and actually winked before leaning forth to have at him. He was acting now, she fucking knew it, but he completely pulled it off. She watched while he got his tongue on the small entrance, he actually stopped to ask, “Can you see everything all right?”
“Yes,” she stammered, both hands over her mouth, “Yes, I can see very well, please don’t stop.”
He chuckled at that, even Chris was amused by her reaction; soon he was also playing along. He’d got much less nervous and gave Tom little instructions on what he presumably liked better and what felt good, he knew she was getting a kick out of this. Chris winked at Elsa and gripped her by the arm, “C’mere,” he smiled, “Kiss me.”
It was so sexy somehow.
She got her hands on Chris’ face and fervently seized his mouth, visibly aroused by the fact that Tom was still having at him. Chris wasn't letting her forget that, he was playing to an audience and made it seem more scandalous and intense than it really was. He and Tom were breathlessly swearing at each other, half joking about profane things they’d presumably done, that they really hadn't.
Elsa said to Chris, “I love you so much right now,” she was smiling brightly against his lips. “You’re both… you’re both so awesome!”
“We are pretty awesome,” Chris replied, and Tom agreed, he finally emerged with his chin and lips glistening. “Yeah, we are,” he said, he knew exactly how to pull Chris toward him the way Elsa would want to see; he kissed him full on the mouth, chin still wet, and murmured to him, “God, you taste so good.”
From a short distance away there came Elsa’s strangled cry of defeat, she weakly murmured, “I can’t…”
“Think she needs five minutes alone,” Chris said, then patted Tom on the shoulder. “Well done, by the way.”
“Good execution, right?” Tom grinned, and Elsa had finally found her voice. “I can’t risk five minutes,” she managed, “You’ll go back to watching Spongebob.”
“Right, right…” Chris frowned as though he were deep in thought, “there is Spongebob…”
“Yeah, in Spanish…”
“Maybe we ought to stop all this, and just go back to watching it.”
“It’s over by now!” Elsa said, “Stop teasing!”
“Oh, it’s over…” Tom was scratching his chin as in consideration.
“Bummer,” Chris said, “Guess we’ll just have to— you know—”
“Yeah, we’ll have to go back to— what we were doing…”
“No helping it now…”
“Can you—” Elsa spoke up, she got one hand on Chris’ shoulder; “Can you get on your back maybe, there’s something I wanna see you guys do.”
To be continued…
A/N: Thank you, dela-art, for this adorable image of five-year-old Chris holding hands with eight-year-old Hiddles and proposing marriage to preteen Elsa, who is their babysitter; looks like an '80s Disney cartoon I would totally watch:
http://dela-art.tumblr.com/post/85599401730/a-commission-for-kelly-featuring-tom-chris-and
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Bromance: A Hiddlesworth Story