You've Only Just Arrived (a Tom Hiddleston fan fiction)

Part 34

Tom has one of your hands trapped in his own as you lead him from the living room into your bedroom. He spins you back to him as though the pair of you are dancing. As a result of your buzz the motion continues even after you’ve twirled back into his arms. You grip his hand tighter, resting your head against his chest to anchor yourself from falling over from the perceived residual motion. “Oh spinning – let’s not do that.”

Tom plants a kiss on the crown of your head, “As you wish.” He waits, unmoving, until you lift your head again. His heart is beating out a steadying rhythm within his chest. “Better?”

You stand on tiptoe to brush your lips against his before settling to the floor again. “Yes – so – you were saying something about a beach…”

He runs his hands over your shoulders and down your arms as you take a step back towards the bed. “And other amazing scenery. Supposed to be headed to the Hawaiian Islands.”

“Oh that’s close. Very do-able – though, still what…” you start trying to calculate the flight time in your head.

“Five hour flight, at least. Yes.” Tom nods. A fresh wave of guilt worms its way through your buzz. Tom had researched the flight times from where he would be filming to where you were all while you were still shutting him out. You catch a glimpse of the same micro-expression that you’ve seen cross his features all evening – pain. He’s trying to rally against the deep wound you’d dealt him. He’d worked so hard to break down your internal defenses just to get to know you, then came to love you – and in a heartbeat you’d shut him out again.

You really are going to be earning his forgiveness for a long while. You offer up a smile, “So just like usual weekend travel times.”  The micro-expression appears again as you settle back onto the bed with him pinning you down. You arch an eyebrow at him, “What?”

“It’s – hmm – nothing.” He tries to distract you by kissing down your neck and finally gently sucking just above your collar.

Your brain is offering up quiet suggestions as to the next move but you are determined to hear him out even if it kills you. “It’s something or you wouldn’t keep making that – ah – face.” You’d almost gotten the sentence out without letting the moan interrupt.

He nips at your skin before chuckling. “Oh you stubborn woman…” He pushes himself up so he is supported by his forearm and elbow while his feet are still planted on the floor. “It would be easier to form a coherent thought if you’d stop looking at me like that.” You roll your eyes and he closes his, waiting until he opens them again to speak, “We’ve both been drinking.”

“Very astute of you.” You can still taste the hint of mint from your mojitos – Tom’s whiskey too, as a result of his mouth exploring yours. Your skin is still tingling where his mouth had roamed. “Is it the bed? I swear I followed the directions… Just because I thought I lost a piece when I really hadn’t…”

He is momentarily still hovering over you. “No, sweetheart. Stop rambling about the bed. The bed is fine. I like the bed.” He kisses your forehead and shifts so his arm is fully extended. He still has you pinned to the bed, but only just.

What is bothering him? He’d been kissing you back, showing just as much interest – right up until you’d gotten to the bed and then there’d been a flicker of doubt.

Tom shakes his head and chuckles at the face you are making, “Oh don’t worry, I plan on resuming our activities, but…” He pauses and you see that little micro-expression of doubt show itself again before he continues. “Where was I? Until today we haven’t been in contact for months…”

You wince. “I’m sorry about that, Tom.” Now the alcohol on your breath leaves an undesired tang and an annoying fuzziness where you’d much prefer the usual solid reassurance of logic.

 He nods in acknowledgement, reaching down with his free hand to run his fingers through your hair. His reply is quiet. “This isn’t just desire and drink. It certainly plays a part, but – I didn’t chase you down today just for this.” He’s trying to choose his words with care, even in his distracted state. “We’re good together when we’re not stubbornly standing in our own way.”

You smile up at him, “Agreed.”

“So we’re not sleeping together tonight just to have me fly out tomorrow morning.” Your brain understands the way he feels, but your body is protesting the statement. He laughs and settles back down to kiss you, “And I can see already that you plan to test my resolve on that. But I’ve made up my mind and that’s just how it’s going to be.” He cups your face in his hands, “Just promise me one thing.”

You’ll be trying your best to honor his request but there’s no way you’re promising to play fair. You lick your lips before responding. “Hmmm?”

“Promise me you’re not going to change your mind in the middle of the night and push me away again in the morning.” His eyes are searching yours, trying to seek out the answer. Oh you have a lot of apologizing to do. His concern makes complete sense – he’s trying to protect his heart from your stubborn whims.

From where your arms are resting on his torso, you give him a small squeeze. “For the record, I regretted the decision to cut you out of my life as soon as I’d said it. I was just too stubborn to take it back.”

He nods, “Noted. Now about tomorrow.”

You lift yourself up to kiss his lips, “I promise – no more pushing away the man I love.”

The joy you’re used to seeing radiate from his face is back, “Say it again.”

You know what he wants to hear but you’re too focused on trying to ensure that that smile remains on his face. “I promise I won’t…”

Your words are cut off by his laugh. “No darling. The other part.”

“Hmmm.” You trace your hand down his side, “Oh that – I love you.” You’re rewarded with the touch of his lips to your skin.

You attempt to wiggle free from under his weight to move further onto the bed but are unsuccessful. You delight in the frustrated noise he makes before speaking with his head resting on your shoulder, “Darling…”

“I’m not – I’m trying to –“ You give up moving around beneath him, “Trying to let you get onto the bed. Standing there like that can’t be comfortable.”