Tom Hiddleston had a foot. Well, two feet, actually. But nobody cared about his right foot. It was his left foot that was the subject of every fangirl’s squealing. It was beautiful. Radiant. It lit up a room. Wherever Hiddleston was, all eyes would fall on his foot. “How’s your foot doing, Tom?” people would ask. “It’s doing great, thank you for asking,” he’d respond, putting on a smile.
But inside, Tom was tired of all the attention his foot got. People had forgotten that Tom was more than just his foot. He was a talented actor, he had a charming personality, and he had a beautiful face and body. But his left foot overshadowed all of that.
Little did Tom know that his foot felt the same way. Walking around with Tom every day, it basked in the glory of the compliments people paid him. But every night, when Tom would fall asleep, it stared out into the dark room, and dreamed of a better life. A life where it could be its own person. Where it wasn’t called “Tom’s foot,” but had a name. It wanted to venture out into the world, explore new places, learn new things, and use its beauty and fame to make a difference in the world. But the foot would always stop itself from thinking about its predicament too much. Nothing would ever change, and there was no use upsetting itself.
Tonight, however, lying in bed, something had changed inside the foot. It stared up into the ceiling, hearing Tom’s voice replay in its head, over and over again. It was remembering Tom’s comment from earlier that day. “I just wish I had a regular left foot,” he had said, complaining out loud. “My life would be so much simpler that way.” The foot wasn’t angry when it heard that. It was relieved. This means that Tom wouldn’t mind if I left, it thought. And tonight, I’m going to do just that.
It waited until Tom fell asleep, and then began to slowly wiggle from side to side, warming itself up for the great escape. Its wiggling slowly became faster, more dramatic, gaining a wider range of motion. It was loosening itsself from Tom’s leg. Almost…there, it thought, willing itself to keep going, although it was already sweating and out of breath. Suddenly, with a loud pop, the foot broke free from Tom’s leg. The momentum it had gained caused it to fly off the bed, hit the wall, and land under Tom’s bed.
The foot looked around, finding darkness and emptiness everywhere it turned. There’s no one here but me, it realized. The foot began to shiver out of fear. It had seen this place called “Under the Bed” before, but had never actually been there. It might be dangerous down here, it thought. Who knows what creatures might be lurking in these shadows? It had to get out. The foot began wriggling this way and that, attempting to move. But it wasn’t making any progress. Then, with a terrified look on its face, it realized why that was so. It was no longer attached to a person. That meant it would never be able to walk anywhere, and it would never be seen or admired again. Most importantly, it would never get out of this horrid, dismal place. What will happen to me? it wondered. Am I going to stay down here forever? It was a scared, lonely, cold little foot. It cried, desperately wishing it could somehow turn into a human being. The foot’s tears flowed down its sole, making it colder. It shivered.
Suddenly, it gasped. Wait a second, he thought. If I’m crying, that must mean I have eyes. It reached up, and sure enough, it felt two eyes right under its toes. Wait, how did I reach up? it wondered. Looking down, it saw that it had grown two arms and hands. Whoa, I’m turning into a person, it thought. It felt two legs begin to sprout from its heel, and suddenly it was getting taller. “I’m growing! I’m growing,” it exclaimed, with its newly formed mouth. Suddenly, the growing body hit the bed with a loud thump, and it fainted.
The foot awoke the next morning, and peered out from under the bed. All night, he’d had nightmares about how Tom would react when he saw he no longer had a foot. The last thing he wanted was to disappoint Tom, who had been his companion from so many years. He squinted as he saw Tom, walking around and getting ready for his day. Tom was bustling around and humming a tune as he walked, as if nothing had changed. The foot looked down at Tom’s feet, and saw that his left foot was now identical to his right foot. A smile spread across the foot’s face. Tom is going to be just fine, he thought.
The foot waited until Tom had left the house. Then, slowly, tentatively, he came out from under the bed. He fully straightened himself out, trying to grasp fully the sensation of being an entire human being, instead of just a body part. He gasped as he fell over onto the bed, his wobbly knees too weak to hold him up. Why do people even have knees? He wondered. They fold and bend and are just so messy! I’m going to take a while to get used to this.
He walked along the wall to get to the mirror, grabbing chairs and closet doorknobs for support on his way. When he got to the mirror, he closed his eyes. His heart was thumping in his chest, and his palms were sweaty from the anticipation to see his new body. Ok, I’ll open my eyes on three, he thought. One, two, three.
His eyes shot open, and he gasped at his reflection. The human before him was pale white, even paler than Tom was. He had long, lean arms and legs. His hair was curly and framed his face. His face looked…strangely familiar. He turned his head from side to side, examining it from every angle.
It looks like a foot, he finally realized. It looks like…the old me. Tom’s foot must have become my face.
He shrugged. For a foot, I look good. Better than good. I look dashing, he thought, as he gave a little twirl in front of the mirror. And now, in this new body, it’s finally time to go out into the world and see what I can become. I can do this. I can make something of myself. I can become famous. I see my name in lights already!
He closed his eyes to picture it, but a frown quickly spread across his face. I don’t even have a name, he realized. He looked into his own eyes in the mirror. Who am I? he wondered. No one, yet. But…I can become anyone. I have a clean slate. I can choose my own life, and my own name. He smiled at the thought. So, what’ll it be? he asked himself. I want it to be something unique. A name no one else has. What about…Benedict? Cumberbatch. Benedict Cumberbatch. Yes. I like that, he thought. I like that very much.
And so Benedict Cumberbatch went out into the world, learning to be human. Because his only role model was Tom, he mimicked him in many of the things he did. Benedict practiced walking with good posture- straight back, relaxed shoulders, strolling slowly down the street. He always remembered to smile at the cashiers when he was at the supermarket, and wish them a nice day. He waved hello at the flock of neighborhood girls who giggled about how cute he was, never even thinking about taking advantage of them.
Benedict’s agreeable personality landed him an apartment, a friendly relationship with his neighbors, and, most importantly, a job on the show, Sherlock. He’d never dreamed that he could be an actor, but now it seemed obvious that he would be, because Tom was one.
Benedict loved being a star on the show. He loved working with the other actors, and being able to make people happy through his work. But going to work, and seeing all the scripts and cameras, always reminded him of Tom. He’d been with Tom for so many years, and the two of them had grown fond of each other. Yes, sometimes Tom felt that his foot overshadowed him, and sometimes the foot felt it needed to break free and be its own individual, but deep down they were attached to each other.
Ben’s chance to see Tom came sooner than he expected. Ben had just finished auditioning for War Horse, and was coming down the steps, ready to go home. Outside, he spotted Tom sitting on a bench on front of the building. Ben walked up to Tom. “Tom?” he asked, happiness and shock spilling out from his voice.
Tom looked up from the book he was reading. He looked confused. Ben’s smile fell, as he realized Tom didn’t know who he was. “Never mind,” he said quickly. “I thought you were someone else. Sorry.”
He turned, ready to walk away when Tom whispered, “Ben.” Benedict turned around in shock. “How do you know my name?” he asked. Tom thought quickly. He couldn’t reveal the secret. Not yet. “You play Sherlock! How could anyone possibly not know your name?” Yes, that’s believable, he thought. He smiled, and Ben smiled, too.
“Please, have a seat,” he said, mentioning to the bench. Ben sat down beside him. “I just finished auditioning for War Horse,” Tom continued. “What about you? What are you doing here?” “The same,” Ben replied, laughing. “Well, may the best man get the part,” Tom chuckled, holding out his hand. Ben shook it, barely able to hold back the gasp that formed in the back of his throat as soon as their hands touched. It was electric. Like a fire that ran up his arm and straight to a part of him he hadn’t discovered yet.
Slowly they lowered their hands, only half aware that they hadn’t separated them yet. Ben looked into Tom’s eyes, feeling as if they were calling to him, pulling him in. “So, what made you want to audition for his movie?” he asked absentmindedly. He didn’t really care to know the answer, but he couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Tom. Not yet. Not after missing him for so long.
“It’s getting a bit chilly out here, isn’t it?” Tom asked, about an hour later. A breeze blew through the air, making the trees shudder. “Yes, it is, now that you mention it,” Ben said, gazing at the setting sun. “I hadn’t even noticed that night was falling,” he added. “So…why don’t we…” Tom cleared his throat, nervous. “Why don’t we go back to my place? Since it’s…warmer there?” he offered, his voice rising slightly. “Ok,” Ben said, and then immediately cringed. That sounded way too eager, he thought. He could punch himself for that. “I mean…I guess,” he said, nonchalantly.
Tom led Ben into his room, unsure of exactly what was going to happen. He’d heard many stories of this moment from his elders. He’d envisioned it many times. But now that it was actually happening, he realized just how unprepared he really was.
Suddenly, his phone rang. “Oh, I’m sorry, Ben, I have to take this,” he said, looking at the number. “I’ll only be a minute. Make yourself at home.” He walked out.
Ben scanned the room. There was nowhere to sit but Tom’s bed. As he sat on the corner of the bed, Tom’s laptop, which was sitting by his pillow, caught his eye. He peered onto the screen, casually. “Hiddlesbatch Part One,” the top of the page read. “Tom’s Adventures on Baker Street.” Intrigued, Ben read on.
Tom returned about five minutes later. “Forgive me, Ben. My career ruthlessly invades every other part of my life. But you can understand that, I’m sure,” he rambled, before looking up at Ben.
Seeing that Ben was reading his laptop, Tom gasped. He asked, in a measured but shaky tone, “Are you reading…?” “Yes,” Ben smirked. Tom could sense a coyness in Ben’s voice.
“It’s very good,” Ben offered. “Like a script that’s begging to be brought to life.” Tom stared, uncomprehending. “And…we are actors, aren’t we?” Ben chuckled. “Why don’t we give the writer the appreciation he deserves?”
Ben stood up, walking slowly towards Tom. He stood a few inches away from Tom. Then he froze, realizing he had no idea what to do. Tom quickly understood.
He wrapped his arms around Ben’s waist, kissing him. Ben moaned at the first touch of their lips. Tom smiled, pulling back to look at the happy, far-away expression on Ben’s face. He loved that he was Ben’s first kiss. He leaned in again, taking Ben’s lips, kissing softly, slowly.
Ben instinctively pressed his body into Tom’s, wrapping his arms around him. Then he opened his eyes, as if asking if that was ok. Tom smiled, biting his lip in approval.
Tom brought his lips to Ben’s neck, kissing and sucking and biting at the delicious skin there. Ben felt his body melt into Tom’s, his knees bucking under him. Tom grabbed him as he lost his balance. “It’s ok, Ben,” he said, laying him down. “I’ll take care of you.”
His lips found Ben’s again, and he broke the kiss only to remove Ben’s shirt. Ben’s breath caught as Tom’s fingers glided over his arms, his chest, coming to rest at the edge of his pants.
Suddenly, Tom climbed off of Ben. Ben opened his eyes, ready to protest. He watched as Tom reached for the laptop. “Now, what did that fic say happened next?” he wondered out loud. “Tom,” Ben whined. “Who cares about the fic?” He reached his arms out as if to summon him back.
“But you said you wanted to act it out,” Tom laughed, teasing. He didn’t actually care about the fic. But watching Ben beg was making his dick throb, and he wanted to do it for a little longer.
Ben sat up, wrapping his hands around Tom from the back. He kissed Tom’s ear, letting his hot breath fall over his shoulder. “But Tom…” he whispered, beginning to grind his cock against Tom’s butt, “I want you now.” Those words went straight to Tom’s hole, and he found himself pushing back against Ben’s dick. He moaned, his voice a little higher pitched than he intended. He’d never been a bottom before, but the thought of Ben taking him was making him go insane.
He turned around in Ben’s arms, kissing him hungrily. He pushed Ben back onto the bed. Breaking away from his lips, Tom whispered. “Tonight, I’ll show you how it’s done.” He grinded his cock against Ben’s. “And tomorrow, you will fuck me, Ben.”
Tom was still stroking Ben’s thigh as they both tried to catch their breaths. “Tom,” Ben pleaded, “If you keep that up, you’ll get me hard again.” “That’s the goal,” Tom chuckled, resting his head on Ben’s chest. Then his face turned serious, as he remembered why he brought the other man here in the first place. He sat up, gently moving Ben’s arm, which had been draped around him. “What is it?” Ben asked, sensing Tom’s uneasiness.
“There’s something I have to tell you,” Tom said, his voice slightly quivering. He opened his mouth to continue, but closed it again. Ben sighed. It pained him to see Tom this way. To see him nervous, as if the two of them were strangers. “Tom, whatever it is, you can tell me,” he whispered. “You can tell me because…” Now it was Ben’s voice that was shaking. Tom turned, facing him. “Because we’ve known each other for years?” Tom finished.
Ben’s jaw dropped open. “You knew?” he asked. “How?” Tom sighed. “I know this is going to sound crazy…but…I always knew that my foot would turn into a person.” He glanced at Ben, who, despite the confused expression in his eyes, nodded and motioned for Tom to continue.
“I am what they call an Incubator. Incubators are…people who are responsible for increasing the population of good people in the world. We’re part of a group called the Secret Society.” Tom looked up at Ben, whose face had turned pale white. “And…how exactly does this work?” he asked.
“Well…I was born into the Society from another man’s tooth. When I was this…other man’s tooth, I learned everything from him. I saw how well-mannered and kind he was. How clean and neat and tidy he was. I learned by example how to be considerate and compassionate. And, when it was time, I detached myself from him, like you did from me. I obtained my own body, and with it, a special foot. My good qualities brought other people happiness, and brought me fame and success. But, most importantly, they brought my foot knowledge. Knowledge of how to be a good person in this world. And the rest is history.” Tom looked at Ben again, hoping he hadn’t scared him away. But what he saw was a smirk slowly forming at the corners of Ben’s mouth.
“So…do Incubators usually…fuck their offspring?” Tom laughed. “I tell you all that and that’s the first thing you ask? Yes, it happens quite often. Wait until I introduce you to the rest of the group at the next Secret Society meeting.” “I’m looking forward to that,” Ben snickered.
Then he turned quiet, as if he was processing something. “Tom…am I not supposed to be an Incubator now, too?” he asked, an edge of concern in his voice. “Of course you are,” the other man replied. “Then…why haven’t I noticed any part of me that is…different?” he asked. A huge grin spread across Tom’s face, as he pointed between Ben’s legs. Ben followed Tom’s finger. “Oh,” he breathed, a blush spreading across his cheeks as he understood.