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Tom Hiddleston ([personal profile] hiddlesgasm) wrote2016-01-15 12:29 am
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At the End of Day

They all file out of the studio amidst copious laughter, shoulders bumping into shoulders and the good-natured jokes and gentle ribbing that comes from a group of people that have spent so much together between filming and interviews and various appearances, conventions, and so on. It's their last interview for a few months, and Tom tries not to admit how sad he is about it as he steals a look at Robert through his lashes as he laughs lightly at something that Mark says. He knows that he should just ask, but it's the hard thing about being gay. That if you ask, and someone says no, it always makes things a little weird. And he's... he's just not willing to take that risk.

But, at the same time, things are so easy, so comfortable between them. The way that he'll touch him, comes up and hugs him, the hand at the small of his back those few times when they've done interviews as just the two of them. That warmth, the comfort of his presence. He's almost sure. Almost. But there's that niggling doubt, of being the only openly gay man on the cast, the fact that he just doesn't know, because there's always that chance. And he just... he doesn't want him to pull away from him.

Some of the others have tried to encourage him, to tell him to just ask him, but he always shies out of it. That warm smile and a shy look as he taps his slender fingers against his arms and tries not to make it obvious just how interested he is. But Robert is affectionate, warm, reassuring, always has that glimmer of dark promise in his eyes, that curve to his mouth, and he wants to kiss him, feel his body against his. But he doesn't quite have the courage.

He doesn't notice at first, when the other members of the cast start drifting off as the head back toward the limo that will drop them all off. It's not that rare for Scarlett to have things to do, or for Chris Evans to have an important phone call. What is weird is all of these things happening within about a five minute span of each other, so that by the time they make it out to the sidewalk, there's no one left heading to the limo except Robert and him, and it makes his heart skip. He sees what they're doing. And it's sweet, but infuriating, and he tries to pretend that he doesn't see what's going on but he can't help squirming a little and giving the other man a sheepish sort of look as his fingers brush against the back of his neck.
starkhasaheart: (flexible in a tank)

[personal profile] starkhasaheart 2016-01-19 09:21 am (UTC)(link)
Good Lord, but Tom is gorgeous, he thinks to himself as he catches sight of how he looks but tries not to seem as though he’s looking, fidgeting, fingers drawing along his jaw, drawing his attention there and to his neck. He knows he’s not the only person who sees just how handsome he is — Tom is becoming an increasingly popular actor and the world loves him for it — but he thinks maybe he’s the only one who sees him quite like this. Nervous and fidgeting, adorable more than handsome (though he is both), not sure what to do with himself and awkward even though he doesn’t have to be. But then again, Robert supposes he could say the same of himself, because he’s feeling more than a little bit awkward himself, and there’s likely no reason for it. Of course, knowing it is different than accepting it, and there’s no amount of logic that’s going to completely quiet his nerves right now.

Robert had some snappy comeback all prepared about how they’d have to get back at them for this, exact revenge, play some sort of prank, but before he manages to say anything, Tom goes and says that. It derails that line of thinking entirely because up until now it’s been all assumption. All obsessing over lingering glances or touches, or the way that Tom sometimes seems to lean into him, always chooses to sit beside him when the option is presented. Now, it’s right there, utterly undeniable, taking any remaining question away, as if there really had been any question at all.

Tom’s nervous. It doesn’t take a genius to know that, but the two of them have, for a while, had a sort of symbiosis. In press events and interviews they’d sit or stand side by side and just by virtue of being so close, one of them leaning into the other, both of them were calmer, more relaxed. It’s automatic, happens without thinking, Robert leaning into him or hugging him and passing it off as though he’s trying to interrupt, picking up on the need and moving in on it. He reaches over and lays a hand on Tom’s knee and rubs up along his thigh to take one of Tom’s hands and pulls it over towards him, thumb rubbing over the back of his hand very matter-of-factly.

“I think we owe them a big thank-you,” Robert says, at first very seriously, and then with a slowly spreading, secret grin.