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Limelight	By : HobNobsAndTea Category: Individual Celebrities > Tom Hiddleston Views: 2495 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: All events in this story are completely fictional, have never happened. We recieve no money from this story, and wrote it simply for the joy of writing it. Enjoy!

Chapter List
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                At the theater you were ironing out bits of costume that were wrinkled putting them back in place. The matinee would be in a couple of hours. A knock comes to the door, “It’s open!”

                “Hey Shelia.” Stephen comes in closing the door behind him walking over to you. “I had a feeling you’d be here early. You’re a diehard perfectionist, you know that?”
                “I’ve been accused of it. What’s up?” You say hanging up one of Tom’s shirts before starting on the next one.
                He walks over and hops up to sit on the table next to you. “I know how it can be, dating an actor.” You glance at him. Dear God, what now. “Especially a famous one that has movie credits, and TV credits and is recognized on site on the street. AND attached to a production run that has grown legs twice. It can be rough. I get that.” You sigh putting your iron aside and readjusting the shirt. “It’s okay you know.” He says after a moment. “If you were just a random shag, he would have dropped you by now. Too much work.”
                “Stephen.” You shake your head turning towards him not really feeling comfortable talking about this in case someone overheard you. “What happens with the production run is over? I mean, it’s not like we’re going to see each other very much . . .or even at all. He has three movies he’s attached to this year. Crimson Peak in Canada, High Rise in Ireland, I Saw the Light in the States. Not to mention he’s still working for Jaguar, charities like UNICEF, and other little bits and bobs that are probably going to come up in between.”
                “So?” He says looking at you. “Doesn’t mean you can’t keep his company and enjoy him now. We still have a few more weeks before this run is over. You can’t pass up something good today just because you’re afraid of what’s going to happen tomorrow. I realize that Mark and I probably are only going to last until Coriolanus is over, but he’s wonderful. Yeah, I admit I fell for him and it’s probably going to hurt. But it’s worth it. I wouldn’t give up these past couple of months with him for all the gold in the world.”
                He was making sense. A lot of sense actually. You look at him feeling a bit sheepish, “Have I been that transparent?”
                He grins getting up off the desk walking closer to you, “I don’t think anyone else has noticed because they aren’t in the same boat as we are. And, if we do get dropped like hot rocks we can lean on each other and get drunk off our ass until we drowned the sorrow.” He says with a wink. You laugh a little and he grins that he could make you smile. “Come on, give us a hug.” You hug him tight. He was a good friend. One of the first you made when you came over from the US. “If you ever need to talk, just call me love.”
                “I will.” You smile again, “I’ve got work here to do and you’ve got stage work to prep don’t you?”
                “Woman, you are a workaholic.” He says with a wink before turning and heading out leaving you to get on with your work.
                It was strange, you actually felt a lot better now. Things seemed a little clearer, you just needed someone to help clear up the fog a bit.
                Days where there were two performances could be tricky. Which is why you immediately started cleaning and prepping Tom’s costumes as he came out of them so they would be ready for the performance tonight. Also, Tom said that he wanted to go out for lunch which would seriously cut down on your prep time so you had to get it done now.
                After curtain call you nearly pulled his costume off of him before he was even all the way in the door, as they were the last of them that needed to be washed and quickly took everything putting it in the washer. Tom showered, dressed, and then headed out to meet fans with his bodyguard as you move faster than ever trying to get everything done. As soon as the washer stopped you put everything in the dryer hurrying back to your workspace changing out of your top into street clothes and putting your headset on its charger.
                Putting on your coat you snatch your bag and come out of the room just as Tom was coming in. “Oh good, you’re ready.” He says with a smile.
                “Yup. New record.” You say showing him your watch.
                “Good.” He grins wrapping his arms around you pulling him close, “That gives us a few hours before we have to be back here.”
                “Few hours before YOU have to be back here.” You say arching a brow, “I’ve got prep work. Otherwise I’m going to be ironing costumes while you’re onstage just in time to slip them on you for changes.”
                “I’m not worried darling.” He kisses you gently before looking into your eyes, “You are the best I have ever seen at what you do.”
                That was quiet a compliment and one you weren’t sure you could take. “Even better then the costume crew on a Marvel/Disney set?” You question.
                “Oh yes. By far.” He sneaks in another kiss pulling you closer to him. You were still doing your best not to tick off your stage manager you brace your hands against his chest a bit stopping any further advances in the theatre. He smiles a little and gives a nod understanding. “Come on. I’m driving.” He says taking your hand as the two of you hurry out to his Jag and drive away.
                When he asked you out for lunch you had assumed that you would be going to a café or something. However you soon find that you have arrived at his home. “Wow.” You breathe as he drives in the gate.
                “Hmmm?” He says not having heard what you said.
                “Well it all looks different in the day light. It’s all so beautiful.” You say admiring the other houses in the community. Tom chuckles as he parks the car. Taking you into the house he pours you a glass of wine and invites you to make yourself at home disappearing into the kitchen. Hmmm. You must have been completely exhausted when he brought you home the other night because even the inside of his house looked different. It was elegant and yet simple and somehow very inviting.
                You look at your watching checking the time before taking another sip of your wine. You take out cell phone finding you have several messages from Ellen. Opening them one by one you see pictures of her and her facebook friends taking selfies in front of a few landmarks. Big Ben, the London Eye, and even one at Buckingham Palace. Well, Ellen was certainly getting around. You hoped that they were having fun, but at the same time you kinda hope they left SOMETHING for you to take Ellen to see. You message her back, “You look like you’re having fun! Wish I could be there with you. Keep the pictures coming!”
                You slip your phone back into your pocket as Tom seems to appear out of nowhere and takes your hand kissing your knuckles gently. A moment goes by before you both realized you had been starring into each eyes without saying anything. Long enough that it became a bit awkward for both of you. “Come on.” He says leaning you into his dining room. Your eyes go a little wide finding he had set the table and there was some exquisitely delicious looking food.
                “Lunch or Dinner?” You ask seeing that he had even lit two candles.
                “Well, I wanted to make the most of our time.” He pulls out your chair helping you sit down before sitting down in the chair closest to you. “I imagine you’ll want to eat dinner with Ellen.”
                “Actually, I’m starting to think that she doesn’t need me.” You admit taking out your cell phone pulling up the group photo she’d sent you before passing it to Tom. “There’s a group on facebook where they all hooked up I guess. Some live here and a few of them flew in like Ellen did.”
                “What group?” He questions passing your phone back to you.
                Your eyes go wide not having expected the question, “Can’t remember.” You say taking another sip of your wine. “So? What’s for lunch?” You say putting down your glass and looking your plate.
                “Stuffed grilled chicken breast with artichoke, spinach, parmesan, lemon zest and wild rice. Along with some grilled asparagus.” He says with a smile picking up his fork as you pick up your own. Taking a bite you are incredibly surprised at how completely delicious it was.
                “Oh wow.” You say taking another bite. “You made this?”
                “Yes. I couldn’t sleep last night so I thought I would put my time to good use.” He admits taking another bite himself. You anxiously take another bite cautious not to make a pig out of yourself by scarfing it down to fast.
                “How can you be so skinny when you cook this phenomenally good?”You take another sip of your wine before going back to eating.
                “If you’re that impressed with this dish, wait until you see what’s for desert.” He says with a wink and a smile happy that you were enjoying the food. When you both finished with the main dish, Tom picks up the plates taking them into the kitchen soon returning with two much smaller plates setting one before you before sitting down with his. “New York style raspberry cheesecake.” He leans closer, “You’re allowed to criticize this one because I actually bought it.” He says with a wink.
                You bite into the cheesecake. It was good but you could make better. "It's good."
                Tom smiles. "I hear a but."
                You swallow another bite. "But I can make better. I did live in New York for almost two years."
                "You'll have to make it for me."
                "Only if you be my assistant." You finish your piece and lean back. "I'm positively stuffed. I could take a nap."
                "Kitten, if I take you up to my bed, napping won't be on your mind."
                You bust out laughing. "So sure of yourself." You take your plate to the sink.
                His body presses to your back. The tips of his fingers brush the hair from your neck. You tilt your head to the side, exposing your throat. "No. But I'd like to think you're as attracted to me as I am to you." He presses his lips to your throat. Your pulse flutters like a caged bird. You grip the edge of the counter. His hands rest at your hips.
                "Oh I'm definitely attracted to you." His lips and tongue move to your ear.
                "Tell me."
                His hot breath sends shivers down your spine. You swallow. His hands move up under your shirt, cupping your breasts over your lacy bra. Your nipples poke into his palms. "Tell you what?"
                Tom pins you between his body and the sink. "Tell me how I make you feel." He squeezes your breasts.
                "Hot." He kisses your ear. "Wet." He groans in your ear, brushing the lobe with his teeth. "Awkward." His mouth hovers over your neck. "Desired."
                "Good." His palm skims down your belly. "What else?"
                You lick your lips, leaning into him. "Like I'm a silly girl. Smiling." He flicks the button of your jeans open. You take a deep breath, shuddering with anticipation. "Nervous." He slowly draws down the zipper. You can feel his hard member pressed to the small of your back.
                "Nervous about what?"
                Oh things were going so well. "That I won't be good enough. That I'll be horrible in bed. That you'll be so amazing. That it'll hurt so bad."
                "Kitten, I'd never hurt you. Unless you were into that sort of thing."
                "A little bit."
                "Oh?"
                You nod. "But that's not what I meant."
                "What did you mean then?"
                "That when the play is done and you're gone, it'll hurt more than anything else. Because I knew better and I started to care."
                He lays his hand flat on your belly. "Shelia. Do you think I'd go to all this trouble for a fuck?"
                "No. Yes. No. I don't know."
                "No, I wouldn't. I like you. I want to get to know you. I want to see where this will go." He nuzzles your neck. "If you'll stop getting in the way." You knew what he meant. It went along with what Stephen had told you at the Warehouse.
                "You're the second person who's implied that today."
                "Maybe we're right." His long fingers slip into your lavender silky panties. You hold your breath at the brush of his fingers over your short-trimmed hair.
                "Tense." He separates your folds.
                "Mmmm, hot." His teeth press into your neck. He thumbs your clit, drawing a gasp. He groans. Your back arches to meet him pressing you forward.
                "Tingly." He maneuvers his hand to slip two fingers inside you. "Oh god."
                "Oh yes, Kitten, very wet, indeed."
                His hips grind against your ass. You reach up with one hand to grab his hair. He kneads your breast. His thumb and fingers work you into a gasping, shuddering orgasm.
                You lean against him, spent and flushed. "There's more where that came from." He buttons and zips your pants. "For now, I have to get you back to work."
                That was wholly unexpected but delicious none the less. And now, you knew where he stood. He turns you around and places a kiss on each fiery cheek.
                You demur but he dips in to kiss your lips. You step to the side so that he can wash his hands. He kisses you once more, devouring your mouth, holding the side of your face.
                You climb out of the Jaguar. "Enjoy your run." He leans over into the passenger seat. You bend down and kiss him goodbye. "See you in a couple hours, darling."
                You have to admit you're on cloud 9 as you walk down the hall. You pop in your ear buds. Lana del Rey 'Off to the Races' fits the beat of your mood.
                Checking your messages, there's more pictures from Ellen's lunch with her Facebook friends. 'Wish you were here'.
                You set about getting everything ready for the next performance. Oh man, you had it bad.
                Tom comes hurrying back into the changing room closing the door before turning and walking to you. Your eyes go wide, “What the fuc . . .”
                “The hand to hand got a little more real then intended.” There was a huge rip right across the front of his shirt. He sat down as you pulled his boots off while he took off his shirt. “Sorry love, I didn’t move fast enough and he got a bit close.” Sitting up you inspect the tear but more importantly his chest to make sure there wasn’t a gaping wound. You run your fingertips over his chest seeing a slight scratch but it didn’t break the skin. He watches you a moment seeing the genuine worry and concern in your eyes for him. You notice that he’s looking at you and clear your through grabbing the hem of the shirt and pulling it up over his head. He stands taking off his pants and you bring on the next costume change. Within a few seconds he’s completely clothed and ready to go.
                You walk with him towards the door as he adjusts the sling over his arm, “Take it easy would you?” You say quickly. Tom has a small smile on his lips looking at you. You clear your throat, “. . . those costumes are hard to come by. There aren’t many backups.” You open the door for him but he pauses a moment just looking at you with a shine in his eye knowing it was truly him you were concerned for. He starts to walk out but stops and wraps his hand around the back of your neck pulling you into a anxious kiss. You kiss him back but then hustle him out the door. “Go on! You need to get to your mark!” Blowing you a kiss he heads into the wings to get ready for his next scene.
                Closing the door you stand there for a minute. Reaching up you touch your lips tasting his kiss with a small smile. Everything about him was so incredibly wonderful. He smelled good, he felt good, he was just completely perfect. Then your smile fades a bit as you lower your hand. It was only a moment and truly it was harmless however that few seconds of screwing around when there was a show in progress was both unprofessional and extremely distracting. With a sigh you shake your head berating yourself before walking over to get the next costume lined up.
                After the show you’re leaning on the washer your mind a billion miles away. He was so good with his fingers, His long soft fingers, on his large strong hand. You close your eyes remembering how good it felt for him to caress you, to kiss you, to touch you. It wasn’t like the sticky fumblings in the backseats cars with a novice. Tom knew what he was doing, how to touch a woman, and he was extremely good at it. That confidence of his showed through in everything, always. There was something about the eager aggressiveness that was an extreme turn on. Like he was a starving animal wanting to devour you in every way possible. What was it he had said to you? You couldn’t quite remember but you were certain he said something about liking it rough. Well, you did like it a bit rough and wouldn’t it be wonderful if that’s what he wanted to do. The big, strong, tall, handsome, Shakespearean God he was.
                The buzzer on the washer goes off causing you to jump 6 feet in the air pulling you back to reality. You sigh and shake your head switching the costumes over into the dryer. “Unbelievable.” You say shaking your head at yourself. When his costumes are done you take them back to your workspace. You shake each one out before hanging them up in their proper place. You pick up the torn shirt turning it over. “Well, I guess I can try and save it.” You roll it up and put it in your bag before taking out your cell phone and turning it on closing your locker.
                You start to walk out to catch the bus around the corner almost running head first into Tom’s bodyguard causing you to drop your bag. “Oh, hey. I’m sorry.” You apologize quickly starting to bend down, but he picks it up first handing it back to you. “I’m really sorry.”
                “Tom’s pulled around the side in the back in his Jaguar waiting for you. If you go out the stage door at the back of the wings, he’s parked there.” He says.
                “What? Why?” You question. He didn’t answer and simply motioned for you to go with him. You shrug and follow after him as he takes you out the exit door and just as said, Tom’s Jag was idling there with Tom in the driver’s seat. The body guard opens the door as you walk over. “I thought you went home?”
                Tom just motioned for you to get in and you take off your bag slipping into the passenger’s seat. Tom looks at his bodyguard, “Thanks for everything man. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
                “Yes sir.” He closes your door and Tom pulls out of the parking lot.
                As he drives you find yourself heading back to his place instead of going to your flat. “I live the other way.” You say looking at him curiously.
                “Yes. But Ellen and her friends came by after the show for pictures and autographs.” He looks at you, “You didn’t tell me that they were a fan group darling. ‘Hiddlestoning Ladies’ I think it was?”
                You wince a little bit hoping they didn’t completely embarrass him. “I’m sorry. I should have warned you. On a scale of 1 to 10 Ellen’s been fangirling out at somewhere between 23 and 62. Has she behaved herself?”
                “Oh yes. Very much so. She tends to talk in innuendos quite often, but it’s no worry.” He promises. “Anyway, we all took pictures together, I signed everything they had, spoke with them for a few moments but there was still a pretty long line and I didn’t want to leave anyone out. She also told me that she will not be returning to your flat until tomorrow. She’s apparently gone to stay with them at their hotel and are planning to leave early in the morning to head down to Cardiff. Seems they’re Torchwood and Doctor Who fans as well.”
                “Hmm.” That was so unfair. You were a Torchwood fan first. You introduced Ellen to it. You would have liked to go down to Cardiff with them. But you had to work and sick days were not an option. If Tom could go out on stage and give such a great performance with the worst cold in the world . . . well after that, no sob stories from any of the crew or the other actors. He had raised the bar quite high. “So where are we going?”
                “I thought we’d have some dinner and then go back to my place.” He pauses a moment, “If you want to. I don’t want you to think you have to or anything. Just having dinner with you would be phenomenal so if you’d rather I take you home after then I can do that too.”
                He was so incredibly charming, and thoughtful, and kind. And he was beautiful. He always had a bit of a 5 O’clock shadow, and his hair was the most beautiful shade of strawberry blonde that shined in the light. “I think . . . . well what I mean is . . .” He looks over at you a moment letting you speak. “I would like to stay with you tonight. Very much.” A smile sweeps his face as he takes your hand and kisses your knuckles before lacing his fingers with yours as they rested between you on the center console.
                You just couldn’t get over how wonderful he was. It was even harder to wrap your head around that for some reason, he was interested in you too. Stephen was right, you couldn’t miss out on the good stuff happening right now, today, just because you’re afraid of tomorrow.
                It was late and dinner was quick. You walk with Tom up to the door carrying the two bags. One has orders of fish and the other has chips. You sneak a chip out and pop it in your mouth when as he unlocks the door and turns on the light holding the door open for you to come in then closes the door behind you. Going into the kitchen you put the food bags on the counter. “How did you know I like this stuff so much?” You ask sitting on one of the chairs by the bar. “This has got to be my favorite food since coming over from the states.”
                “I cannot tell you how many times you had leftovers after lunch that you brought back to the theater to stash in your locker, darling.” He says with a wink and a smile. He opens the fridge pulling out a bottle of white wine, and getting to glasses bringing them over and setting them down on the counter as you take the condiments out of the bags. Tom fills the glasses handing you one, before bringing back two plates putting them down and you take out the fish and chips putting them on each one.
                “I actually never really liked fish.” You pick up a chip, “In the States this are French Fries and a ‘chip’ is what you guys call a ‘crisp’.”
                ‘ehehehe’ he laughs, “Certainly seems you’ve picked up the language pretty well.”
                “Well, I didn’t come over here cold turkey. I’ve been an Anglophile since I was a little kid. You know that.” You remembered telling him that Shakespeare was actually your first love too. Although you wouldn’t want to ever have to perform it in front of people. You both feeling rather hungry after the very full day you had, and eat in silence for a little while as the food quickly disappeared as did the wine. “you keep feeding me like this I’m going to have to double my time in the gym.” You say taking another sip of wine before he fills your glass once more.
                “Now how in the world do you possibly find time to spend in the gym when you’re always working at the theater?” He questions.
                “hmmm. Somewhere between sleep and awake. It’s sort of an automatic thing now since I was 14. I may have actually done a few work outs in my sleep these last few weeks.” Sadly, that was actually a possibility. “You have an incredibly busy schedule and you still find time to work out and go for runs.” He gives a nod not being able to argue with that. When you finished Tom clears the plates and you throw away the paper bags and used napkins. You take off your jacket and start to put it down and your eyes go wide, “Oh my GOD.”
                “What’s wrong?” Tom asks hearing the tone in your voice.
                Your entire left arm over your shoulder and down your back was covered in the fake blood they had gotten to the point of drowning Tom in every night. Your jacket must have gotten the dirty costumes thrown onto it before you took them to put into the wash. “You have got to be kidding me!” He walks over wincing slightly seeing it had gotten all over your blouse and skin. “My jacket wasn’t even in there, it was in my locker!”
                “Alright, darling. It’s okay.” He takes your jacket, “it should wash out just fine. It washes out of my costumes every night.” You take a few napkins out of your bag as you start to try and wipe it off you. “Oh well, we know that’s not going to work now don’t we.” He takes your hand and leads you into the bathroom turning on the light and putting your jacket on the counter. You look in the mirror seeing just how much blood was on you.
                “God, could you imagine if I took my jacket off while we were out there?” You say in disbelief.
                “Ellen would certainly have a story to take home with her when emergency services were called because you look like an accident victim.” He said with a smile. Reaching in your pocket, you take your hair and twist it putting it up in a clip off your neck.
                You start to wash the ‘blood’ off in the sink and smirk slightly, “Out damn spot! Out I say!” How could you NOT quote MacBeth in this situation? It’s not like it came up that often. Tom laughs a bit standing behind you watching you in the mirror.
                Completely absorbed with trying to get this stuff off your skin you don’t even notice that Tom as stepped closer to you until you feel his fingertips gently caress the back of your neck, drawing down a bit over your skin, before further down your back. His touches felt just as heavenly as ever. Leaning closer he nuzzles your ear slightly before touching your chin to turn your face towards him and he gently places a kiss to your lips. Your entire body tingles as your eyes roll back slightly as they close and you eagerly return his kiss. Reaching up you carefully rest your hand to his face as you kissed again. His fingertips draw down your neck then down to your chest. Your eyes open looking up at him intoxicated by his touch, by his taste. However your instantly pulled from your state when you find a blood smear on his cheek from where you had touched him.
                “Oh, God. I’m sorry.” Reaching over you pick up a small towel and wet it turning towards him and carefully wiping it from his face. You sigh shaking your head. “You should probably take me home where I can get cleaned up and changed. This is a disaster.” You say with an annoyed sigh putting the towel aside and turning the water of the skin off. You reach for your jacket but Tom catches your wrist drawing you back.
                “I have a better idea.” He says with a smile looking into your eyes. “You’ve taken care of me these past few months in this very situation. So now,” He draws you a little closer looking into your eyes, “It your turn to allow me to take care of you.” He whispers looking into your eyes. “If you’ll permit me?”
                How in the world did you find yourself in this situation? “I . . . I . . . .” That was the best you could muster? Really? Words were failing you at this moment and instead you just give a small nod. A smile sweeps his face, his eyes shining in excitement that he was getting the chance to do this. It seems that it was something he had been fantasizing about for some time. His hands rest on your shoulders as he pulls you closer kissing you gently before they start to slowly slide down your arms before moving to your body continuing to firmly move down your soft curves. Your eyes were a little wide not sure how you felt about this yet. It was firmly out of your comfort zone.
                He finds the hem of your shirt and slowly pulls it up and off over your head when you raise your arms tossing it to the floor. His hands return to your waist sliding around to your lower back pulling you closer as he gazes down at your soft alabaster body. His hand wraps around your neck moving to your shoulder as he gently turns you around so your back is to him. His hands move firmly, expertly over your skin and down your back as his fingertips find the hooks of your bra that he easily unfastens with a simple flick. Before he pulls the straps down your shoulders, kissing one side and then the other letting the bra slide down off your arms to the floor.
                You couldn’t help but be swept up in the moment, intoxicated by his masterful touches and strong caresses of your body, but the perfectionist in you couldn’t help but think if this was an actual costume change, the stage manager would be ripping the door down with her bare hands by now wanting to know where the hell you were.
                Kissing your neck again, Tom’s hands return to your waist and caress up your middle to your breasts and then back down your abdomen to your pants. He unbuttons them before slowly pulling the zipper down and slipping his fingers down inside them catching your panties as sliding them down over your hips and thighs before pulling them down your legs the rest of the way as you step out of them. Still kneeling down on the floor he puts your jeans aside having stripped you completely. His hands find their way back to your thighs as he places tender kisses to your skin. You shudder slightly feeling incredibly bare, vulnerable, and exposed. God, was this what he felt like every single time you did a complete costume change during the show?
                You close your eyes knowing that you couldn’t say anything, not after having stripped, wash, and dress him probably more times than his mother did when he was a kid. Your body shivers slightly feeling like you wanted to dive under a blanket and play dead.
                While Tom adjusted the water temperature, you try your best not to feel awkward. He pulls his shirt off and tosses it on the floor next to the pile of your clothes.
                Now that you were rushed between scenes, you could appreciate the way his back muscles moved as he brought the shirt over his head. He glances at you in the mirror. "I like the way you look at me."
                You clear your throat. "How-how's that?"
                "Like I'm the greatest thing since color television."
                You laugh and tip your chin up. "Maybe you are." He can't stop grinning that boyish, bubbling grin. He gaze drops to where his fingers glide up your upper arms. You shiver. The action pulls your nipples tight. You bite your bottom.
                "Come on, let's see about the chill." His eyes hold a heat that has nothing to do with the shower or the steam filling the room and fogging the mirror.
                Tom takes your hand, interlacing your fingers with his. He leads you into the shower. The water pelts down your body, bringing a heat flush to your skin. He reaches behind you unclips your hair.
His hands dive into your hair, tilting your head back into the stream. His mouth covers yours, lips and tongue urging it open. His fingers work the water through your hair as your tongues dance.
                He breaks the kiss and turns you around. He plays his fingers over your shoulders and down your arms. Those expert fingers massage the shampoo into your hair. "I've never asked you how you feel during costume changes."
                He turns you back into the stream, rinsing your hair. "At first, it was a bit awkward and uncomfortable. But you remained professional and great at your job." When the water ran clear, he turns your back around to work conditioner into your hair. "Then I became interested in you. And I looked forward to costume changes. They let me spend time with you even for a short while."He turns you back into the stream.
                "So how long have you been interested in me?" You nervously meet his eyes.
                He looks to the water then down your body. "Awhile." He takes the soap and lathers up his hands. "I didn't want you to think I felt like you owed me anything. Or that I expected it because of the nature of our working relationship." His soapy hands rub down your arms then your back. "I wanted you to like me." He hesitates at your breasts then kneads them both. "I can't tell when I started fantasizing about switching positions with you." His hands work their way down your belly. You finally notice that he's still wearing his jeans, which are now utterly soaked. "Shortly after, it became harder to keep professional. Most days, I could control it. Others, I couldn't." You'd noticed.
                His palms smoothed over the swell of your ass then worked down the muscles in your thighs, working deep into the tissue. You looked down at him. "You'd make a shit stage hand." He jerks. "You're taking too long."
              He laughs. "Be gentle, Kitten. This is my first time." His fingers find the spot at the back of your knee. You can't suppress the moan it illicits. "Hmmmm, this has been an enlightening experience." Your upper body leans against the shower tiles. His hands work down your calves. He lifts your foot and thumbs the soles of your foot. You sigh and close your eyes. He places the foot back on the floor. Moving onto the next one, he gives it the same treatment. He watches you, drinking in the way your mouth moves in enjoyment. Resting your foot on his thigh, he kisses up your shin to your knee.
                "I want you to be comfortable with me. So if you'd prefer to finish, I won't be disappointed."
                You swallow slowly. Between the wine, the shower, and his touch, he'd managed to relax you. You anxiously bite your lip and take a deep breath. "You can finish. . ."
                Tom rubs his stubble on the inside of your thigh. "Are you sure?"
                You look down at him, rolling your tongue over your bottom lip. "Yes?"
                He kisses your knee and rubs that spot on the back. "Yes? You don't sound so sure." Despite your nerves, your insecurities, you take another deep breath. "Yes."
                He lathers up his hands again. Taking tender, slow time, he touches the most intimate part of you. He doesn't touch to excite or arouse. He places your foot on the floor then stands. Even though most of the water has rinsed away the soap, his hands smooth over your skin.
                You turn into the spray. He rests his hands on your shoulders, kissing the top of your head. "How'd I do?"
                "Very. . .thorough." He kisses down your neck and across your shoulder. "You need to work on your speed though."
                He chuckles. "What if I enjoy it slow?" You lean your head back on his shoulder. His fingertips trace lines down your arms then back up. "Are we still talking about showering?"
                "You'll just have to find out." He turns you around. "Will you wait for me in here?"
                "Yea." He turns the water off. Toweling off, he leaves the bathroom, leaving the door open. He quickly changes out of the wet jeans and boxers into lounge pants.
                You stand in the shower, the hot air keeping you warm. The warm fuzzy feeling from the shower receding to make you nervous and self-conscious.
                Tom comes back into the room with a towel and some clothes. He fluffs out the towel and holds it open for you. You step in, allowing him to wrap his arms and the towel around you. "I'll let you get dressed. Come into the living room when you're done." He takes your face in his hands and kisses you soundly, tenderly. Pulling back, he searches your face, smiling at what he sees there. You can't imagine what he sees. Maybe your budding feelings, you awkard shyness, your nervous desire.
                You towel off quickly and pull on the clothes he left you, a pair of lounge pants and of all things, a Loki tee. You smile and shake your head. Incorrigible. You finger comb your long tresses then twist them up into a clip.
                Looking in the mirror, you can't see what he sees. To you, you're still the awkward theater nerd that dreamed of Broadway and the Globe. Sure you were reasonably attractive, but you're no bombshell.
The sounds of a crackling fire meet you in the hall. The fire light is the only light in the room. He's laid out a blanket on the floor in front of the fireplace. There's a bottle of wine chilling in a bucket of ice and your glasses sit along the fireplace tiles. Soft acoustic guitar comes from hidden speakers. You recognize the song as Corey Taylor's live cover of the Rolling Stones 'Wild Horses'.
                His long arms wrap around you from behind. He nuzzles his face into the side of your neck. "Kitten, I hope you don't mind my touching you. I can't get enough now that I can."
                You smile a little wrapping your arms over his holding them tight to you. “It’s not that I ever . . . you know. Would have stopped you to begin with.” Your eyes turn down a little embarrassed realizing had your job not been so important to you, it was probably the only reason you didn’t go through with the passionate frenzy that was happening on your couch the first night he asked you out and walked you home. “Kinda makes me a slut to admit that doesn’t it.”
                Tom smiles holding you tighter swaying a bit resting his cheek to yours, pressing his hips against your backside. “I don’t think so.” He says softly. Then he nuzzles your ear, “How much of a perverted bastard does it make me to admit if you hadn’t found a moment of sanity . . . I would have had you right then and there in every way and as many times as physically possible.”
                “Come on Tom, even then I knew you weren’t like that.” You say seriously knowing that since you had stopped him that first night it seemed to be his biggest fear, that you would think he was some kind of player.
                He smiles holding you tighter still in his strong arms against his firm powerful body continuing to sway slowly with you to the music. “I’m glad we didn’t go through with it then. Because It's going to be so much better when it's time. When we are ready.” He says wrapping his arms around you a bit better as your bodies molded together into each other. “I love spending time with you. I’ve never known anyone like you before.”
                You smile a little bit, “An American?”
                He chuckles a bit, “Oh, I’ve spent time with American’s and every single one an interesting character. But much the same can be said for all the other nationalities as well.” A quiet moment passes before he releases you just enough to turn you to face him, then he wraps his arms around you lacing his fingers together at the small of your back holding you tight against him. “Your friend Ellen has provided some enlightening contrast, quite unintentionally and completely unknown I’m sure.”
                You’re smile fades as you begin to worry a bit, “Oh no, she didn’t do anything to embarrass you did she?”
                Tom grins and shakes his head nuzzling your face slightly, “No, no not at all.” He says reassuring you before looking down into your eyes again taking a moment to collect his thoughts. “When we first met, you didn’t know me from a volunteer usher. You hadn’t seen any of the movies I was in, you didn’t follow me on every social media known to mankind, you weren’t a card carrying member of Loki’s army. I believe what you told me, was that I was just a name on a page. Just an actor that you were going to be working with. You and I were in the same room often for a good few months and all you knew was that I was playing the lead and perhaps my name. You also told me, that what drew you too me in the first place was because of my personality. Because of my beliefs, and because of how I treat people. With respect and courtesy. Do you remember telling me this?”
                You look into his eyes giving a nod. “Was after our first date.” You remember telling him way more than one probably usually would if they were playing the game.
                “It wasn’t until after you were assigned to work with me, that you started to look into my career and watch the movies that I’ve been in. You didn’t even know who Loki was even though Ellen explained many times that she tried to get you to watch said movies when they came out.” He smiled actually really liking that detail, “Even then I’d wager you only watched them once.” You blush a little looking away a little sheepish.
                “I haven’t really had any time to watch movies since coming over here and signing on with Donmar.” You say quickly making your excuse.
                He chuckles as his grin grows brighter, “But that’s exactly what I mean. At first all I was to you was some guy. Then you got to know me as me. Not as a character I played or a costume I wore. I knew when you told me, that it was me that you were drawn to. Not “Tom Hiddleston” but just Tom. Just me.” He can’t resist and draws you into a tender kiss before wrapping his arms around you embracing you tight. “Even then, you didn’t throw yourself at me. You’ve always put the work first, just as I do. Always, even when you’re exhausted and running on autopilot you give it everything you’ve got and more. You do things for people, you care for others, you don’t complain and just . . . . do so much, so much better than most.” He hugs you tighter still resting his face close to yours as though he was afraid you were a dream and if he didn’t hold on tight you might disappear. “If you only knew how truly beautiful and wondrous you are.” He kisses your head before whispering into your ear, “How glorious it felt finding that you actually care for me.” He grinned rocking with you in his arms slightly, “You have no idea how difficult it was to keep the right emotion in that scene when I went back out and not simply break out dancing with joy . . . oh darling.”
                Your eyes are wide as your head rests to his shoulder your arms tight around him as well. So that was why he actually stopped and kissed you and you had to shoo him out of the changing room back into the wings. Was he talking about you? Really? Who was this person he was describing? It couldn’t have been you. You usually worked by yourself. You showed up early, you stayed late; you worked in your own little work space or the laundry room. And you were grumpy A LOT. You cursed like a sailor sometimes, and you did get a little stressed out sometimes like when they told you his entire wardrobe for the play had been ransacked, destroyed or stolen leaving you with very little time to replace and refit anything before the show the next evening . . . . you were probably capable of taking the life of a fellow human being at several points during the day. It was hard for you just to take little compliments, and beautiful? Maybe he needed glasses for more than just reading. You pull back from his embrace a little your eyes turned down a little confused as you rest your hands on his chest, “Tom,” You begin feeling like maybe he’s gotten the wrong impression about you completely. “I. . . I don’t think . . . .” How did you express something you weren’t even sure how to put into words. “. . . . I don’t know this girl you are talking about.” You say before looking up at him. “I don’t think I’ve ever even met her . . . . .” No one thought this highly of you. At least if they did, they never said it. You feel like you want to say more but you simply have no idea how to continue finding yourself at a loss for words.
                You felt incredibly vulnerable and indescribably uncomfortable right at this moment even though Tom wasn’t doing anything but holding you close. All he wanted to do right now was hold you. But your body was becoming more tense by the second. He starts to say something but you suddenly step back from his arms out of his reach. His smile flees seeing your sudden change in demeanor. “I’m sorry Kitten, I didn’t mean to . . .” He reaches out and steps closer to you but instantly you move away again.
                Realizing how incredibly rude you were being you clear your throat, “I . . . . forgot to brush my teeth.” You say sliding your fingers through the tips of your hair. “I should go do that.” Before he could react or say a word you quickly walk passed him heading back to where you’d showered just a little while before. Getting into the bathroom you quickly close the door resting both of your hands on it just bracing yourself against it as your eyes are turned down but you stare at nothing trying to catch your breath. “Oh God.” You whisper barely able to make a sound. Turning you lean your back against the door sliding down to sit on the floor as you cover your mouth your eyes still as big as baseballs. “What have I gotten myself into here?” You can hardly breath, it felt like your heart was going a hundred miles an hour thumbing against your chest so hard it felt like it was going to explode at any time.
                Why this? Why now? Why couldn’t you have just thrown caution aside and fucked him on your couch that first night. Then it would be all over and done with. You cover your face with your hands again leaning your head back against the door. “Oh my God.” You breathe again leaning forward covering your eyes as they had become red and welled with tears. You were in a full out panic attack and it felt like you were going to die.
                You didn't even realize you were crying until the cave of your arms and knees was a humid mess. You let your head thump against the door. A soft knock answers from the other side. "Shelia? Are you alright?"
                You wipe your face with the palm of your hand. "Fine. I'm fine."
                Tom sighs. "Kitten. Baby, please don't lie to me." Your stomach twists. "Open the door please."
                "I don't want to." It sounded like a petulant child.
                "Alright." The door moves add he settles down on the other side, mirroring you with his back against the door. "You don't have to open the door, but would you please talk to me?"
                "I'm sorry, Tom. I'm a neurotic mess."
                " Shel, stop. I know you're not fine so would you tell me what's wrong? Please? I thought tonight was going so well."
                You squeeze your eyes closed then open them, staring at the ceiling. "You think I'm this great person. And I'm not. I've got a temper. I'm neurotic. I'm weird and strange. And loud and abrasive."
                "And I adore you and all those things about you."
                "But why? I'm nothing special. I'm not perfect."
                "But you ARE special. And, Kitten, no one's perfect. We just find people who are perfect FOR us."
                You swallow and make a command decision. "I have to tell you something."
                He nodded then seemed to realize you couldn't see him. "Go ahead, love."
                Taking a breath, you let it out slowly. "The reason I left LA was a leading man. The situation was somewhat similar to ours. I helped him with costume changes. But the difference, the most important difference, is that he thought I owed him. He groped. He made inappropriate comments. And being somewhat naive at my young age, I took it as he liked me. So, we started having an affair. And that's what it was. He was married." You twist the pants between your hands.
                "Oh, Kitten." The pain in his voice squeezed her heart.
                "He was mean and rude. And the more we had sex, the increasingly violent he became. I like it rough from time to time. But he became so sexually violent, I had to go the hospital on more than one occasion. The stage manager found out about our relationship when he damn near broke my wrist. To 'protect me', he fired me." Your head drops forward onto your knees again.
                You hear a sharp intake of breath. "Shelia. Darling, please open the door."
                "He was handsome and talented and charismatic. And I was shy and strange and average." Your chest squeezes with wounds remembered. The tears are hot and fast. "Young and stupid. Ellen basically kidnapped me and brought me home. Six months later, I moved to New York."
                "Shel, baby, please. Open the door."
                "Not yet, Thomas. Please?" Your hands shake as they lay curled at your sides. Your whole body is shaking in fact. These memories left you raw and vulnerable.
                After awhile, Tom knocks again. "Darling, it's getting late. Could you please open the door?" This was silly and ridiculous. You'd locked him out of his own bathroom. Punished him for your demons. Ruined his beautiful, romantic evening with your neurosis.
                You stand, turning the knob and letting the door swing open. Tom draws you into his arms, holding you tightly. You don't pull away but you don't wrap your arms around him. He seems content to just hold you.
                "Shelia, my sweet, I will never ever hurt you like that. Please, don't speak. Let me finish. You're wonderful with all you flaws. I enjoy them. He was rubbish. A horrible person. You did nothing to deserve the way he treated you. You deserve to be someone's queen, their partner, their equal." He tips your chin up to look you directly in the face, in the eyes. "And if you'd just let go, I want to see if you're mine." Oh fucking hell. Why? Why did have to be so damn wonderful? The tears start anew. "Oh Kitten, please don't cry."
                He cups your face and kisses you tenderly. "I'll try. But I can't promise I won't spazz out again."
                "We'll take it at your pace. I'm ready and willing to wait or do whatever you need." He wipes away the tears with his thumbs. "The only thing I'm asking of you tonight is to let me hold you." You take a deep breath and let it out.
                "Alright. I think I can manage that." You manage a half smile.
                "Good." Music is still playing. The fire has burnt down some. He leads you into the room by linked hands. He settles down on the blanket with his back against the chair. He looks up at you, patting the floor between his legs. Your body tenses but the pleading look in his eyes keeps you from running for the door.
                You sit in between his legs, settling your back to his chest. He wraps his arms around your shoulders, leaning his head to yours.
                "That wasn't so hard, was it?" "No. But yes."
                His fingertips caress your upper arm. "Explain it to me."
                "You're so amazingly sweet and wonderful. And I'm afraid your going to look at me one day and find me wanting."
                "Kitten, you can't throw away today for some imagined tomorrow." He squeezes you. The fire light flickering shadows over the room. You lean your head on his.
                "This is the most romantic situation I've been in. And I keep lousing it up."
                His hands knead your upper arms. "Just breath, baby." He kisses the side of your head.
                You can't be sure when you fell asleep. Maybe it was after the second glass of wine and the rugby stories. Tom's chest rose and fell behind you. You stared into the dying fire, listening to his sleeping breath and steady heartbeat. You needed to talk to Ellen before she flew back home. She was your grounding wire. She'd saved you from Tyler. She'd helped you pick up the pieces. Maybe she could slap some sense into you.
                You snuggle into his chest. He sighs and tightens his arms around you. He smelled warm and sexy even in his pajamas. He wasn't anything like Tyler. He deserved better than to be punished for that prick's deeds. Maybe some ground rules would help you be less of a spastic. That would be something to discuss after breakfast.
                You tilt your head so that you can lay soft kisses along his arm. He smiles and opens one eye. "You ok?" His voice is thick with sleep and fuck all sexy.
                "I'm good. Aren't you uncomfortable?"
                "I'll be alright. I don't want to trip your run away trigger by inviting you into my bed."
                "Compromise? Lay on the couch?"
                "Deal." You scoot away so he can stand. He groans and stretches after standing. "I'll lay on the inside so that you can get up if it starts to be too much."
                Fuck him, he was too damn sweet. He lay down the length of the couch. You pull the blanket with you when you lay along the line of his body. He curls an arm around you, molding your body to his. You're acutely aware of the two thin layers of clothing separating the two of you. He tugs the blanket up over you. Nuzzling the side of your neck behind your ear. "Happy dreams, my sweet." You stay awake until his breath and heartbeat slow and even out with sleep. Only then, do you let yourself fall back to sleep.
                Tom shifts slightly feeling a bit cold, then opens his eyes realizing why. You weren’t there. He lifts his head looking around not seeing you anywhere. Pulling the cover back he gets up heading into the kitchen finding you had made coffee and were sitting on one of the tall chairs at the bar holding a cup between your hands lost in thought.
                Walking up behind you he gently rests his hand on the small of your back, “Good morning kitten.” He says gently kissing your cheek, before walking around the bar getting a coffee cup, “Is this your industrial strength American coffee?” He asks.
                You smile a little, “Might be a bit strong for you.” You admit putting the coffee cup down but your hands still firmly around it as you sit up. He chuckles before pouring himself a cup as well then walking over standing opposite you.
                “What’s on your mind love?” He questions taking a sip of coffee leaning against the counter.
                You look down a moment before taking a breath, “I feel like a complete ass.” You admit honestly. “I . . . am so ashamed of myself right now, I honestly understand if you don’t even want to talk to me for the rest of the run. We can just do our jobs as always without acknowledging the other ones existence. I’ll understand.”
                He furrows his brow putting down his cup not understanding, “Shelia . . .”
                “No, please. My turn to talk.” You say having hardly been able to sleep since he gathered you out of your pathetic anxiety attack. You hesitate a moment before looking at him, “Ellen mentioned it just once since she came over. What happened when I lived back there?” You were back to your sensible self now and weren’t going to mentioned it or speak of it directly. Like you had resolved yourself to do since you left that place. “I basically ripped her head off and told her she promised. She promised we were never going to mention it again, because it didn’t really happen.” You half laugh running your hand over your face, “Then what did I do? The most wonderful, kind, brilliant, intelligent, charming man I’ve ever met told me he thinks the world of me . . . . .” You still couldn’t believe what you did and turn your eyes away shaking your head, “And I just completely . . . . cave and tell you everything that happened like it’s some kind of excuse for the way I’ve acted. And it’s not. It’s not an excuse for being an idiot and putting you through hell. Like you don’t have enough to put up with and do in your life when your career is taking off.” You sigh and let go of the cup standing from the seat, “Tom . . . . you deserve someone better than me. Someone that isn’t a complete moron, or a weak, or incapable of just letting good things happen and doing everything she can to fuck it up just because she’s afraid of getting in trouble or getting hurt.” You say softly. “I think . . . my clothes are probably dry enough to wear now, and I’ll call a cab to take me home.” It seemed that even though you really liked him, cared for him . . . you had accepted that you not only completely failed and fucked it all up and it was your fault that you just had to deal with the consequences.
                When you turn to head back to the bathroom, Tom ducked around the counter and catches your arm stopping you. Honestly, you truly weren’t expecting that and turned looking at him. He didn’t speak right away and instead just pulled you a bit closer taking your other hand. He genuinely looked upset. Upset that it sounded like you had just decided unilaterally that it was all over before it had begun and hurt you were just going to walk away leave.
                “Shelia,” He begins almost as if searching for some place to start, for what to say. “How many people know of what happened to you in LA? How many people have any idea how you were treated?” He questioned seriously.
                “Nobody knows besides me an Ellen accept for the people who were there.” You answer softly. “It’s not even in my records, because I changed . . .” Here you go, more confessions you should really just shut up and keep to yourself about. “I changed my name so I could omit what happened from my resume so it wouldn’t be held against me.”
                “Shelia isn’t your real name?” He questioned.
                “It’s one of my middle names.” You confess starting to pull away realizing that you couldn’t help but being honest with him. If he asked you a question you were going to answer it and answer it truthfully. This wasn’t a good situation for you at all. “Tom, I really should go get . . . changed . . .”
                “I’m the first person you told since then about what happened?” He questions further.
                “Yes.” You confirm ashamed of it. “And I’m sorry, I don’t like to pull other people into my drama and you have much more important . . . .”
                “Shhh.” He says reaching up and gently resting his finger to your lips to hush you. “Stop.” You quiet looking into his eyes. “I don’t think you even realize what it is you’ve just said. Do you.” You shake your head a little bit. “You just told me that I am the only person, since all of that happened, that you’ve let in on a terribly painful experience of your life. That you’ve trusted enough to share a secret that haunts you.”

                Your eyes go wide, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to . . . .”
                “No, Shelia . . . . . kitten, it’s alright.” He says resting his hands on your shoulders, “You don’t seem to understand that I don’t think of you as a burden, I don’t think of you trusting me as a burden. It’s a privilege.” He takes your hands in his holding them tight and pulling you closer, “I want to know about you. I want to know about your past, your dreams, your thoughts, everything. I want you to share everything you are comfortable sharing with me. I am not going to tell anyone about any of this, anything you confide in me is safe. I promise you.” He looks into your eyes and kisses your lips tenderly before looking into your eyes, “Your secrets are safe with me, kitten. Just as you are, and you will always be.” He cups your face in his hand gently stroking your cheek with his thumb. “Please . . . . don’t run away from me.” He whispers gently.
                You turn your eyes down away from him a moment. To be honest, you didn’t want to run away from him. You didn’t want to push him away. You wanted to melt into his arms forever and just have him hold you that wonderful way he does. With his whole body, with his whole being. It always felt so wonderful, so safe, so right. You lean a little close and whisper almost to quiet to hear, “I’m scared.” You say nervous.
                “I know love.” He says caressing your cheek ever so gently. “But I promise you, you have nothing to fear from me. Not ever. Just . . . . give us a chance. Please?”
                Your head was throwing up red flags in every direction, telling you to stop this right now and get out while you still could. Your heart however, your heart sometimes had a tendency to override your good sense. And there was Tom. He wanted so desperately to get to know you, to keep your company. Everyone kept telling you, ‘take a chance, take a chance, don’t miss out on something good just because you’re afraid’. Looking into his beautiful eyes, the pleading in them that you didn’t turn him away. “Okay.” You whisper with a small nod. “Okay.”Tom could see and understand now why you were so afraid, and he simply nodded as well taking your hands and kissing them. Then he touches your cheek and kisses your lips tenderly. “If . . . maybe we could just forget last night. Everything I said, everything I told you. Could we just . . . please pretend it didn’t happen? Please?”
                Tom thinks for a moment before giving a nod, “If that’s what you wish then yes. We don’t have to talk about it anymore.” You give a sigh of relief thankful he was able to give you that. “I’m not running from you but I really do need to be getting home. Ellen is going home soon and I need to spend time with her before going to the theater tonight.“ You say apologetically.
                “Alright, I’ll take you.”You’re clothes are still in the wash I didn’t have a chance to put them in the dryer yet. But you can wear these love.” He says rubbing your shoulders. “Go get your things and I’ll get my keys.” He kisses you once more and you turn heading out of the kitchen. However before you can disappear completely he hurries after you and takes your hand, “But before we . . . leave this subject and put it behind us I have one more deeply personal question I need to ask you.” You turn towards him bracing yourself waiting to hear it. “When was the last time you had sex?”
                You hesitate a moment quite embarrassed as your cheeks blush red. Your eyes turn down, “With him.” You say simply before pulling your hand from his and hurrying out of the kitchen. Tom doesn’t run after you again letting you go get your things but so many things seemed to make sense now.
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