Chapter 20
The entire panel you both refrained from texting one another, even if the desire was ever so present. So close and yet unable to communicate. You had a bit more freedom to stare at Tom, especially when he began to talk. He was so animated, lively–passionate. If it were possible to love him any more, your heart would have easily achieved such a feat. The only moments you were pulled for your euphoric gaze was when Tom stole a glimpse at you, a warmth radiating off of him.
It was such sweet agony to sit through the hour-long panel, soaking him in. You hadn’t even noticed the shift in the crowd as the moderator called out, “That’s about all we have time for.” To which the majority of the audience made an audible sound of disappointment. Neither you nor Tom looked in the least bit sad, however. Of course, Tom kept it polite, not once seeming as though he was literally counting down the minutes until he could get you backstage.
You hadn’t planned the next move. Originally, Tom was supposed to have arrived earlier. A calm meeting. A chance to pull yourself together during the panel. Yet now? Now, you two had snuck glances at one another in the middle of hundreds of people. Nothing calming about that.
As the actors gave their final waves, Anthony and Sebastian making some joke about the parties this weekend, you were pulling out your phone in an effort to text Tom. Did he have a plan? He always had a plan—and if ever a plan was needed it was—
But as soon as they were off stage, the ballroom erupted in noise and commotion. People began shuffling about, eager to get to their next destination. You were a tad jostled about as you were herded down the row. “Excuse me, ma’am!” called out a woman dressed in all black and donning a headset. Very official.
Pushing against the crowd, the woman’s repeated pointing towards you confirmed that she was trying to get your attention. When you finally got up close enough, it was clear she was flustered. A tight schedule likely didn’t allow for her to play matchmaker. You couldn’t find it in you to feel bad for her though.
“Follow me. It can get crazy back there,” she shouted over the crowd, guiding you back towards a side door. All you could do was shift your purse around in front of you to somehow make the journey a bit easier. Somewhere between row one and the door, distance had formed between you and your guide.
As she entered the side entrance and her image was lost behind the steel, you felt as though you were intruding on the whole thing. At any point, you were fully prepared to be kicked out. In an effort to avoid the embarrassment, you quickened your pace, nearly running at the door. They’d have to catch you if they wanted to throw you out first.
However, fate had something more cruel. Upon opening the door in a rush, you threw yourself into the backstage area and directly against a torso. “Fuck me!” you swore, jaw having rammed into a very bony shoulder blade. The collision made you double over immediately, trying not to shout out too many obscenities for fear that may be the first thing Tom heard from you.
The owner of said shoulder blade let out a grunt of his own, obviously not expecting to be attacked by a full grown woman. “I’m sorry–,” rubbing at his shoulder, though his apology seemed distracted. In a rush. “I need to–,” he began, moving to try and go around you.
“You can wait!” a snap as you wanted the stranger to stay still long enough that you could get out of the way, rubbing at your jaw as you lifted back up to be face to face—or rather, face to chest with him.
He was all blue eyes and beard and jaw and urgency. His height took you by surprise, his sheer presence took your breath away. Slowly his urgency was replaced with understanding, opening his mouth to speak without the words forming.
Tom was speechless. Which in turn made you speechless.
It felt like an eternity rested in that moment you shared together. When the words returned, they came as a package deal, overlapping one another in comical fashion.
“Are you okay?!”
“Are you alright?”
“Did I hurt you?”
“Are you hurt?”
“Was that your–?”
“Jaw?”
“Shoulder?”
The words tumbled and fell on each other, much like you both had done just a minute prior. Somewhere in all your questions and answers, neither of you had noticed his hands on your elbows and your hands splayed against his chest. Again, Abbott and Costello had nothing on you two, as you both jerked away from each other upon realizing you were touching.
Neither of you could see how badly the other wanted the physical touch. All you knew was you didn’t want to mess this up. Your hands could still feel his warmth, trying to memorize the rise and fall of his chest. Tom longed to drink you in, but stopped at just a sip—allowing his eyes to dart away in feigned embarrassment. He wasn’t embarrassed. He simply didn’t want to scare you away.
What felt like an agonizing lifetime in silence was only thirty seconds at most before another woman made her presence known. “Tom! It’s so good to have you at Dragon Con this year!” This one didn’t have a headset on, but she did have a clipboard. Equally, if not more important than a headset.
“Ah yes. Thank you. It’s–I’m already having a marvelous time,” he beamed—and there was the Hiddleston charm. You silently hoped that you contributed to the marvelous aspect, but by the way he spoke—anything could have been the cause of his good mood. He genuinely seemed pleased by it all. How incredibly disappointing.
“Awesome! I know you didn’t have time to get up to your room before the panel. You have a break before your photo session that starts at 1 o’clock,” she rattled off—by her name tag, this was Vanessa. Wasn't that the name of Ursula when she tried to steal Eric away from Ariel? Not you being jealous by a forty-five second interaction. “I’ll take you up to your room and talk through the rest of today’s schedule.” Vanessa kept her conversation to Tom and Tom only. You were invisible.
However, his first move was to turn towards you. Even the gesture of merely looking at you was enough to startle you into silence. Dipping his head down, you could swear you could smell his cologne. Warm, soft–intoxicating.
“Would that be alright with you if we went up to my room?” The hesitance was layered thick over his question. No term of endearment. No smile. No little jest here or there. His nerves were a perfect reflection of yours.
“That would be fine,” was all you could muster. No joke. No teasing remark about getting you up to his bedroom. Could he hear your heart beating faster with each passing second?
Vanessa, honestly, did not know what the fuck was going on. Anyone walking past the two of you could feel the tension. All she knew was that she had a job to do. Get Tom from point A to point B throughout his weekend. If that meant she was going to navigate the junior high waters that you two were treading, so be it. Her tickets were free after all.
“We are going to move back here the majority of the way. There are too many people to safely transport you in the lobby,” she explained, already moving down the bustling hallway.
Awkwardly you both waited for the other to follow her first. Of course you nearly ran into one another, not knowing who should go first. He gestured for you. You gestured for him. Meanwhile, Vanessa continued walking and talking.
“You first–”
“No, you–”
“Ladies–”
“Movie stars–”
Again, your words fell over one another, until you yet again step into the other, crushing Tom’s toes under yours and his bony hips slamming into you. Ultimately, you both were absolute train wrecks. Judging by the way he winced, face contorting and eyes closing—his silent gesture for you to start walking was duly noted. You would think with this much touching, someone would have kissed by now. Nope. Just crushing the God of Mischeif’s feet. This was great. Brilliant. Perfect.
“Now, we tried to schedule everything early on in the day to keep your evenings free as you had requested,” you caught Vanessa explaining. Your eyebrows shot up and in normal circumstances, you would have given Tom a hard time about requesting his evenings to be free. Oh boy, oh boy. What did Mr. Hiddleston have planned? You thought better of saying anything as a quick glance over your shoulder allowed you to see the slight limp in his gait.
“Thank you. I do know how difficult working around someone’s schedule may be, especially with so many moving pieces as I’m sure occur here at the convention,” he replied, taking you by surprise. You barely caught anything Vanessa said and yet here he was, apparently paying perfect attention. “Do you have a copy of the schedule that I could have?”
“I sure do!” Vanessa answered, plucking a paper from her clipboard. As casually as she grabbed the paper, she quite casually gave you the schedule. Did she assume you worked for Tom? Did most of his assistants awkwardly touch his chest? Scratch that, you didn’t want to know.
“You don’t have to–,” he whispered, causing you to jump at how his breath ghosted against the shell of your ear. There was no playing it cool when it came to his presence.
“I don’t mind,” assuring him, making the mistake of turning your head just a tad towards him. The small motion nearly made you bash your nose against his. “Jesus,” you finally sighed. “At this rate, I’ll kill you before I kiss you.”
Perhaps the most comforting sound in the light of your utter embarrassment at how irreparably clumsy you were in his presence—was the sound of his laughter. It was deeper than you expected. As though a smile had been given volume, resonating from the heart in its lightness, but coming to rest deep within his soul.
And you found yourself smiling, by his laughter alone. A goofy sort of grin, the kind you distinctly remember giving to your high school crush in your fourth period English class when he’d laugh at one of your jokes. Apparently not much had changed…
Vanessa’s sudden stop at another side door, prompted you both to follow suit. “Okay, let me go out there and get us an elevator. I’ll let you know when to come out,” and with that, she was gone, leaving you two alone together.
“Is it always like this?” you finally asked, continuing the awkwardness. You kept your gaze on the door in front of you, rather than allow yourself a moment to look at Tom.
“Like what, exactly?” Tom answered eagerly, almost too eagerly. Could you not see how much reassurance he wanted at this moment? Was he what you imagined?
“The whole, secret hallways. People getting the elevator for you… Have you ever gotten your own elevator before? And I don’t mean have you ‘acted out’ getting an elevator.”
That earned you another chuckle and a slow nod on his part. “Yes, I have in fact signaled for my own elevator.”
“Good,” and you shouldn’t have done it. You should not have dared look beside you. Serious eyes met yours, searching for any signs from you–searching for an answer. Acknowledgment. The unfortunate irony of it all was that he left you incapable of forming coherent sentences. All you knew was that you’d run into him a million times if it meant you’d spend your life with him looking at you like that.
“Stop that…,” you warned, quickly looking away. Damn him.
Tom would have listened to your instructions had you not been grinning ear to ear. “Stop what?” playing the role of the fool, and never ceasing his gaze.
“You know exactly what,” fighting the smile with everything you had.
He rocked onto his heels, hands now joining behind his back. “I haven’t a clue what you mean, darling.”
The term had been used on you countless times over the past several months. Hell, it was your name on his phone. However, this was the first time he had ever called you ‘darling’ standing mere feet away from you. You answered with a groan and a dramatic roll of the eyes, which only served to cause further laughter on his part.
“I take it back. You’ll be doing the killing apparently.”
But Tom wasn’t so sure about that. He took full advantage of your inability to look at him. You had the ability to stare at him throughout the panel, but this was truly his first opportunity to take you in. It was the first time he had ever seen you in a dress, other than pictures you may have posted on social media. A black bodice with a full red skirt with white polka dots donning the material. It was a classic look as the dress accentuated your waist, yet allowed him to wonder about traveling up that skirt of yours.
Soft brown hair was half pinned up, as he knew you never liked having to push hair out of your eyes. You had opted for contacts as he had–paying special attention to how even in the dim light, your chocolate hues expressed so much.
However his lingering gaze was cut short as Vanessa peeked her head around the door, gesturing for you both to follow her to the elevator. The noise level instantly increased as you both dipped out into the open hotel floor plan. The atrium made you aware of just how many people walked below you in the lobby, the constant motion and conversation floating up. There were still plenty of people walking around on this floor, however you and Tom were quick enough to jump into the elevator without being recognized.
Along with Vanessa, you were just about to make a jab about Tom pressing the elevator buttons himself when you heard a woman call out, “Davis!”
At the same time, a little boy darted into the elevator. Vanessa was trying to shoo him out, but the doors were already closing. In all the commotion, no one thought to simply stop the elevator. Instead Vanessa gave a few grumbles about kids at conventions.
Now, what you and Tom noticed immediately was how the boy was dressed. Golden horns. Dark green cape. Something that looked similar to a dagger. Anyone would recognize that this young boy was dressed as Loki. However, the child didn’t realize just whose elevator he had hopped into. He was too busy sniffling into his sleeve, obviously upset.
“That’s what happens when you run away from your parents,” Vanessa commented coldly, apparently not versed in ‘kid’.
Luckily, this was your specialty. He looked to be a tad bit smaller than your fourth graders, perhaps seven or eight? Either way, you found yourself kneeling down. “Oh my goodness! I didn’t know I’d be sharing an elevator with Loki!” gasping as you clutched a hand over your heart.
After realization set in over the occurrence and especially once Tom heard you speak to the boy, a soft smile began to appear. It was as though he was proud to be standing next to you. He was proud that this was how you’d handle the situation, rather than cool remarks.
“Your horns are remarkable!” Tom added, not quite sure whether he should kneel down beside you.
“Remarkable?” a small voice asked from behind the sniffs.
“Oh, that just means really cool,” translating with a smile. “Don’t worry, kiddo. We’ll get you back down with your family,” wondering if that was what was causing him so much heartache.
“It doesn’t matter. I missed Loki.,” another big sniff, finally looking up from his pout to look at you.
“You missed Loki?” questioning, voice softening even further as you were beginning to understand that his sadness was not because of the separation.
“We got here too late and I didn’t get to see Loki,” he repeated, wiping away at his eyes.
Unable to control it, your hand reached out to your side and grabbed at Tom’s shin. As though you were asking, ‘are you hearing this?’. And Tom knew exactly what to do, taking his cue to kneel down beside you. “What if I told you that you found Loki?” you whispered as though it was a secret.
“Where?” looking around the small elevator to which you and Tom both smiled at the innocence. Your hand rested on Tom’s knee, calling it home for the time being. As long as neither of you acknowledged the physical touch, you could keep it from being awkward.
“Do you not recognize me?” And suddenly, you weren’t sharing an elevator with Tom Hiddleston anymore. It was indeed the Norse God. The trickster himself. His whole demeanor changed with a few simple words.
The little boy tilted his head to the side, then to the other side. Studying. "You’re all fuzzy,” he finally stated, pointing to Tom’s beard and not at all convinced.
“Tricksters always have disguises,” whispering as he was allowing the boy in on his special secret. “How am I to avoid my brother here on Earth? Have you not heard he’s down here with the Avengers? That’s for the best, really. Brothers can be so aggravating,” he rambled on, rolling his eyes for dramatic effect.
At the term ‘aggravating’, the boy looked to you for guidance, in which you replied, “It means super annoying.” His face lit up instantly, looking between you and Tom.
“My big brother is SO annoying! He always picks on me. He thought it was dumb coming here. He said he would have more fun at baseball,” rattling on about his personal life as though he had known you both his entire life.
Tom nodded, as Loki, understanding the trials and tribulations of having a sibling. “You could always turn into a snake and when he comes to pick you up…”
“Hey, God of Mischief! That’s enough ideas!” you laughed, jabbing him in the ribs, getting a laugh from Tom in the process.
“If you’re Loki, then who are you?” a question of innocence as he stared at you curiously.
“Oh, I’m not anyone important, kiddo,” waving it off as the elevator doors opened to the sounds of a very relieved mother.
Pictures were taken and words of thanks were spoken before Vanessa made it her mission to get you both up to the room. All the while, Tom wondered if you truly thought yourself to be unimportant or if you were merely playing a role for the child. What must he do to make you see how important you truly were in his life? Would this weekend be a sort of starting over point for you both?
The room was larger than anything you had ever experienced. You wouldn’t say it out loud, but it likely was bigger than your apartment. As Vanessa went over the rest of the day’s plans, you took the opportunity to pull out your phone and type away. Tom was attempting to keep his attention to the conversation at hand, until he felt his phone buzz repeatedly. Finally, he glanced down and noted the calendar invites being sent. You were making sure each of his events were on his phone, planned out accordingly—
You were taking care of him. He would have thanked you on the spot, but Vanessa was just wrapping up and said you were needed in Room 239 in about half an hour. Seeing her out the door, Tom locked it behind her and turned to see you staring out the window. You adored the large skyscrapers of Atlanta. The way the sun bounced off the hotels. The mountains that were still visible in the distance…
“I asked for a view of both the skyline and the mountains,” he offered, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
“It’s nice,” you added, almost startled by the privacy you two were allowed. What was next?
“You were spectacular with the boy,” searching for something to add to the conversation, even pulling his hands from his pockets after only being stuffed away for a few seconds.
“It’s my job. What about you? You were great!” It was your turn to try and make conversation.
“My job is to play pretend,” a small shrug as the silence lingered over you once more.
Your anxiety levels were increasing as you wondered whether or not you’d ever get back to your normal, easy going conversations. Tom was your best friend and yet—Tom Hiddleston was this stranger that on occasion showed you glimpses of who you were used to… What if this wasn’t going to work out? What if you two could never have the same type of relationship in person as you had virtually? What if after seeing you–he didn’t feel the same way?
“You’re in your head, Y/N,” came the gentle reminder from Tom. You heard him in his words, in his tone–in the way he saw into your soul even if you were trying with all of your might to hide it away.
“Alright! New plan!” you declared, lifting your phone up into the air. There was what looked to be a separate room to the side of the sitting room, which you could only assume was his bedroom. “Get your phone out,” an order that could not be argued.
“I’m not planning on calling anyone….”
“Phone. Out. Now!” as you closed the door behind you, plopping down on his bed (also, far more comfortable than anything you had ever owned).
“I’m in love with a mad woman,” he muttered to himself, slightly wishing you would hear, so at least then you could acknowledge the fact that he had claimed to love you during the panel. In what world did he expect you not to deflect that though?
Sinking into the sofa, he kept his phone at the ready like you instructed.
Darling
Have you ever met someone and instantly froze?
Shoulders dipped down, shaking his head as he saw your text message. “We are literally in the same hotel room, Y/N! Why are you sending texts?”
Darling
Did you know it’s not polite to leave a lady on Read?
Another shake of the head and a sigh that he hoped you could hear from the next room, he typed out his response.
Tom, Dear
I’ve never not responded to you, darling. Besides, you’d never let me live it down.
Darling
Statement. One…Love.
Tom tilted his head back to look up at the ceiling at your mention of points. It was a game of questions like you two had taken part in ages ago. It stemmed from one of his favorite plays and it was his first hint at knowing you were the one for him. This, however, was not the time for one of your games. “I’m not playing this with you when you are in the next room!” he called out. Your response?
Darling
Statement. Two…Love.
Tom, Dear
Have I mentioned that you’re absolutely maddening?
I wouldn’t have you any other way.
Darling
Once or twice.
Thank God you put up with me.
Tom, Dear
Two…One. Did I mention how gorgeous you are in that dress of yours?
I should have said it a hundred times.
Darling
You haven’t seen my Minnie Mouse Power Outfit before?
I wore it for you.
Tom, Dear
Your dress has a name?
You wore it for me.
Darling
Why wouldn’t it?
I only wore it so you could take it off.
Tom, Dear
Two…two. Did you wear it for me?
Say it.
Darling
Now, doesn’t that sound familiar?
Isn’t that what started it all?
Tom, Dear
Do you remember?
That picture of your Star Wars shirt..
Darling
When I sent you a picture of my t-shirt?
Best mistake of my life.
Tom, Dear
Is this your form of deflection? Must I always combat your verbal dodgeball?
I’ll gladly keep doing this until my dying day.
Darling
The job is yours if you want it. Do you want it?
Please want it.
Tom, Dear
What are you asking me?
Don’t deflect, darling.
Darling
Am I…what you imagined?
Please want me.
Tom, Dear
Could it be possible that you are more than what I ever could imagine?
How can you not see that?
Darling
Is that why you haven’t tried to kiss me?
Tom, Dear
Did you want to be kissed?
Darling
What sort of question is that?
Tom, Dear
I didn’t wish to scare you…
At that very moment, you opened the bedroom door in a rush to explain to Tom that you wanted everything with him. It didn’t change for you. He was still the man you had come to call your best friend. You wanted to assure him, comfort him–hold him. However, when you opened the door, you were met with lips crashing against yours. Foreign. New.
The movement was urgent. Nips and tongue. Rushed and wanting. In a fluid motion, Tom spun you around until your back pressed firmly against the now closed door. “Do not ever think I go one minute of my day without wanting you,” a promise against your lips, hands unclasping the clip from your hair, fingers exploring the soft strands with a gentle hum of pleasure.
“The only thing that scares me is—,” but you paused, distracted by his touch and the warming effect he had over your whole body. He touched you like he knew you—knew your body, although you two had never touched before, you melted against him.
“Horses?” he offered, his laughter rumbling against your lips to which you replied with teeth tugging at his bottom lip. His response was less jovial, desire clouding his judgement. Not that you had a better grasp on reality right now.
Your hands—your hands had been roaming his chest since he pinned you to the door. Studying him. Taking him all in. The more you roamed, the more adventurous you became, even going so far as to unbutton the first two buttons on his dress shirt, exploring the light tufts of hair he sported along his chest. “You think you’re so funny.”
“I’m hilarious, darling,” he assured, dipping down to leave a trail of kisses along your neck.
“Again…,” eyes rolling back to a close, arching against his torso.
“Like this?” soft lips and contrasting stubble melding together to leave you aching.
“No…You said I’m hilarious—?” trailing off so he could finish the rest.
A grin complemented his journey, humming against delicate skin. “Darling…My, darling. My love. Mine.” And you could have sworn there was a growl, a sense of ownership that you were not at all unhappy about that accompanied his words. You were so enamored with the term ‘mine’---
“Yours,” you weakly offered, your body going limp against him, allowing yourself to be his so entirely.
At that exact moment, the intro to “Sharp Dressed Man” blared from your phone, alerting you to the first alarm you had set for the day since adding in all of Tom’s engagement. The music startled you both into jumping away from one another, scrambling to turn off the music. Panting, out of breath, you were left in silence.
Laughter immediately filled the void, relief washing over you both as you came to realize—everything was going to be alright. There may be tension, there may be awkwardness—but you both craved each other wholeheartedly.
“I say we call the game a tie,” you suggested in jest.
“No. I very clearly won.” And no one would be able to convince him any differently.