Chapter Text
It’s 8pm on a Saturday night and here you are in your usual spot at the café. Tea on the table and book in your hand, you sit facing the door with your eyes glued to the page. You pause your reading of Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing to take a look around the abandoned café. Even the sole waitress has retreated to the back. You’re not sure why it’s so deserted tonight, but you like the peace and quiet. You lower your eyes to your book again and continue reading when you hear the door open and close. You keep your eyes on the book, but you can feel the stranger’s eyes on you. You try to keep reading but you can’t help but look up and gasp. Standing before you is Tom Hiddleston. He is dressed in a gray t-shirt and jeans, his hair a little askew from the summer breeze. He’s staring at the title of your book and smiling.
He notices you’ve looked up now and looks down with a little chuckle.
“I’m terribly sorry,” he says, a smile creeping onto his embarrassed face.
You’re still in shock from seeing the man you’ve admired for years standing right in front of you. You know you should say something but the butterflies in your stomach and your trembling lips prevent you from speaking coherently. He’s staring at you waiting for a response so you muster out an, “It’s okay,” and smile too enthusiastically.
He extends his slender hand and says his name is Tom. You concede that you know who he is and it’s a privilege to meet him. You give him your name, your hands still entwined. His skin is soft and warm and you never want to let go. Unfortunately you break the contact as the waitress comes out from the back area and Tom turns. He gives you a “one minute” gesture and orders some tea. You notice how well his clothes fit his masculine form. He’s tall and holds himself confidently, but there’s a softness around he edges that draws you to him.
He turns around and you look away before he can catch you staring.
“May I join you?” He asks, motioning to the empty seat opposite you. You’re still incredibly nervous and excited at this serendipitous event and you nod with what you hope is nonchalance.
“That is one of my favourite Shakespeare plays,” he smiles, pointing to your copy. You can’t help but smile because he was the one that got you interested in the old English writer in the first place.
“I just saw Joss Whedon’s film adaptation and I’m obsessed with it now,” you confess.
“Oh Joss! He’s wonderful. I actually haven’t gotten around to seeing that yet, but it’s high on my list for sure.”
You and Tom hit it off immediately from there. You talk about film and literature as well as what he’s been up to lately. His smile and laugh are contagious and by the end of the first hour, both your cheeks are sore. You are both so involved in the conversation that when the waitress comes over to give you the check, you barely notice her.
His eyes are mesmerizing and he speaks with such purpose that everything he says is absolutely enthralling. You never want this night to end. At first you were nervous that you wouldn’t be able to keep this well rounded, intelligent, incredibly handsome man interested in your conversation, but it turns out talking with Tom is as easy as breathing.
Finally the waitress comes over again and informs you that the café is closing for the night. Surprised, you both check your watches. It turns out that you and Tom have been talking for two hours straight. It seemed like no time at all. There’s a pause and you both realize you have to leave. You and Tom go to the door and he opens the door for you. You step outside into the warm air and sigh. He is right behind you and steps to your right side. You’re very aware of his presence so close to you.
“It’s too bad the café had to close, I was really enjoying our conversation,” he says. You can’t believe this man is real. He is so handsome and sexy and smart. He stands there waiting for you to say something.
“Me too,” you respond, and before you can stop yourself you say, “You know, this might be forward, but my apartment is just down the street. If you wanted to we could pop in that Joss Whedon film?”
Immediately you see his face light up. His smile is brighter than anything you’ve ever seen.
“I would absolutely love to,” he responds, and offers you his arm to take.
You walk down the street arm in arm. He smells amazing and his shirt is soft against your bare skin. The physical contact makes you a little dizzy and you almost forget to stop at your apartment.
“Well, this is it,” you say as you unlock the door, sadly leaving the comfort of Tom’s arm. He follows you inside. You breathe a sigh of relief internally and thank yourself for cleaning up this morning.
“Go ahead and make yourself comfortable on the couch,” you say. Tom smiles and plops happily on the couch. You put some popcorn in the microwave.
“Do you want anything to drink?” you ask, rummaging around your fridge. “There’s water, soda, wine, juice…” you list off what you see.
“Oh Shakespeare deserves wine don’t you think?” He responds playfully. You’re thankful he said that because you could use a little alcohol. The way he makes you feel is unbelievable. The idea of sitting next to him for two hours makes you almost giggle with glee. There’s an undeniable pull you feel when you’re around him. It’s like he has his own gravitational force and it’s hard not to completely give in to the pull. You grab two glasses and the bottle and put them on the coffee table, then run back for the popcorn. You turn on the DVD player and settle down a respectable distance from Tom.
He takes a large sip from his wine and puts the glass down. Then he stretches his arms out so they rest on the back of the couch. You decide to play it safe and try not to touch him. Who knows how he feels about you? You’re not used to being found attractive by men like this and you have no experience in trying to get their attention. You figure best-case scenario, you’ve made a new, really amazing friend.
As the movie progresses you both drain the wine bottle. Your eyelids start to get heavy and you relax into the couch, and subsequently, Tom. You can tell he’s getting sleepy too because his breathing has deepened and he’s stopped mouthing the lines. Slowly you both gravitate towards each other and fall asleep.
You wake up to the credits of the movie still rolling, but you realize you’re lying down. That’s not the couch beneath you, it’s Tom. Somehow in your sleep you both adjusted to this position of him on his back laying down, and you on top of him, your head on his chest. As you wake up more you realize his right hand is lying lightly on the small of your back and the left is hanging off the couch. His head is lolled to the side and a small snore escapes his lips. Those lips. You want so badly to kiss him but you have to resist. His hand on your back alone sends tingles everywhere in your body. You lay your head back down and enjoy the moment. Suddenly you feel him stretch beneath you pushing himself up towards you and pulling you closer to him. You look up at him as he opens his eyes. You both give a small, awkward smile as he realizes how you’re both arranged.
“Well, that was the best nap I’ve had in years,” he purrs. You can feel his deep voice in the firm chest beneath you. You realize he hasn’t moved his hand.
“Me too,” you sigh, content. Suddenly you hear your stomach grumble loudly. Tom laughs.
“Hungry?” He asks.
“Turns out popcorn isn’t such a nutritious dinner,” you say. As much as you don’t want to move, you feel like you have to get off of Tom. Even though ever fiber of your being begs otherwise, you feel like you probably have invaded this man’s space and he’s far too nice to say anything.
“I should probably make some food,” you say as you grudgingly pull yourself off of him and stand up. He gives a look of what you guess is sadness or disappointment and gets up too. He looks down at the floor for a minute and then back at you.
“Oh, I guess I should, em, get out of your hair then,” he says.
You have to stop yourself from shouting no at him. Instead you realize that he’s probably just trying to leave. After all you are basically strangers. It’s weird thinking that though. You feel like you’ve known him your entire life. As much as you feel you should let him leave, there’s a larger part of you that doesn’t want to let him leave. He gets up and thanks you. Then he leans in and kisses you on the cheek. His soft lips on your skin makes your knees shake and threaten to collapse.
“I mean… you could… stay, you know, if you want,” you say coyly.
He pulls back and has an enormous smile on his face. His hands are still on your arms and you feel so safe.
“I could just make some pasta or something for us, if you want,” you offer.
“Only if I can help,” he says, “I love cooking.”
You start to head towards the kitchen and almost falter when you feel his hand on the small of your back again. You wish he would pull you closer, but he just guides you to the kitchen.
“The sauce is in the fridge on the door if you want to grab it so we can heat it up,” you say. Tom opens the fridge and you can’t help but watch as he bends over to look in. He grabs the sauce and you avert your gaze as he comes towards you with the jar.
“Should I open it now?” he asks. You nod. He’s standing right in front of you with only the jar of sauce between you. He opens it and sauce goes everywhere. Both of your shirts are covered in red and you can’t help but stand stunned for a minute. There’s a beat and then you both erupt in giggles. Between the sexual tensions you’ve been feeling, and the hilarity of the moment, you’re on the floor and out of breath with Tom in no time.
“Well, what are we going to do with these shirts,” you muse.
“Ah it’s okay for me, I have an undershirt on under this… if you don’t mind,” he smiles. You don’t. In fact you wish he didn’t have an undershirt. He stands up and takes off his gray shirt, the undershirt pulling up to reveal a toned body underneath. You’re still staring at him when he’s finished. He puts the shirt on the counter and reaches down to help you up. As it turns out, you have a camisole on underneath this shirt. Feeling a little bold you decide to try being seductive for once.
“Well if it’s all the same to you, I’ll just do the same,” you say and pull your sauce-covered shirt over your head, revealing your tight, low-cut cami underneath. You silently thank yourself for wearing your push up bra today as well. You see his eyes linger over your newly exposed skin. You’re not used to being looked at like that, but you like it. He smiles and you both laugh again.
His shirt is nearly see-through and you want so badly to press yourself against his firm chest. You involuntarily lick your lips. He’s absolutely stunning. His eyes are penetrating yours and there’s palpable tension in the air. He steps towards you, eyes locked with yours. Is this really happening? One more step closes the distance and you can feel his hot breath. Your hand lightly touches his chest. Tom’s hands cup your face gently. You’re still looking into those blue eyes, your yearning for him now reaching it’s breaking point.
“You’re absolutely ravishing,” he breathes as your foreheads touch. You want to kiss him but you also don’t want to break the spell. He licks his lips and opens them.
“May I kiss you?” He asks, always the gentleman. You can’t form words right now so you answer with your lips. As soon as you’ve made contact your body catches on fire. You can feel every nerve, every muscle in your body respond to Tom’s lips. You want more. You need more.
His hands pull you closer to him as your bodies crash together. You’re both breathing heavily now between kisses. You could kiss him forever and it wouldn’t be enough. You run your fingers through his hair and a moan escapes from his lips.
This fabric between you simply won’t do. You need to feel him, all of him, right now.