Crumbs (a Tom Hiddleston fanfic)

Nectar

A/N: Perv alert, for all you pervs who were yelling at me because of the last chapter. ;) JK you're all awesome.

The morning is overcast, I can see slivers of gray light filtered in through the spaces between the curtains and the window. Tom has excellent black out drapes on his windows, so his bedroom is still mostly cloaked in darkness.  I honestly have no idea what time it is, but when I flop my arm over to where Tom should be, I get nothing but pillows and smooth, cool linens.  Gone. No koala bear within arms distance.  I slowly open my eyes, and see his digital clock on his nightstand.  It’s a little after 10.  I’m not even sure when we went to bed.  It had to have been after 4.  Where is he?

I turn to look at where he should be, feeling a bit groggy and disoriented.  I’m not wearing any clothes.  Which normally is a big ‘No’ in my book.  What if there’s a fire? Or an emergency? And I need to leave the house right away? Will I have to run out, while all my belongings and worldly possessions are burning, wearing nothing but my birthday suit? Oh the horror! I might as well burn along with my things, if it means the neighbors will get an eye full.  But I was exhausted last night.  And Tom was naked as well.  And there’s something strangely convincing about Tom being naked.  You sort of want to be naked with him.

 There’s a piece of paper on his pillow, and I pick it up, trying to focus in on his handwriting. 

Good morning.  You’re lovely. Marry me? I’m going for a run, and then we can talk honeymoon spots.

xx, Tom

            I roll my eyes, but can’t help but grin.  What was that? Six times? I let the paper slide to the floor by the side of the bed and I roll over, burying my face in his pillow, inhaling the scent of him.

 ****

            I wake up some time later, to the sound of the shower turning off.  I hear Tom in the bathroom singing.  The man is ridiculous.  I swear, he’d find something to be happy about no matter the situation.  When things are all good in the world, his happiness is completely infectious.  His voice is a low hum, and then shrill and high and operatic.  I grin and giggle into the comforter, lying still so I can hear him.  The door opens a few moments later, and he instantly quiets, as if remembering that I am not far away, trying to sleep.

I keep my eyes partially closed, watching him move slowly through the room.  The diffused, hazy light from the windows keeps the room in a dim, silver gray filter.  He’s naked, save for a towel that is wrapped around his narrow hips.  He moves quietly, with a graceful strength through the room.  I watch, knowing he doesn’t know I’m awake.  His hair is damp, and messy, slicked back slightly.  Something inside me stirs, and I move, lifting my head a bit.  Tom sees me, turns and pauses.

“Hi there.” He smiles.

“Hi.” I say softly.  “How was your run?” He walks over to the side of the bed, his hands coming up and resting at the top of his towel on his hips.

“Good. Rainy.” He says, looking down at me over his nose.  I look and reach up, running my fingertips lazily down his stomach.  His skin is damp and warm, and I feel him react as I touch him.  He watches me, his expression serious.

“I’m sorry I slept so late.”

“Don’t be.  We had a late night, and I think you’re a bit jet lagged.”

“Come be jet lagged with me.” I ask, slipping my hand under the folded edge of his towel.  He watches me, his expression still serious and somewhat thoughtful.  I yank gently, and he moves his hands as the towel comes apart.  I let it fall to the floor, and Tom stands still.