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

Part 35

Turns out there's plenty to do to satisfy bodily cravings while still holding to Tom's decision not to sleep together. When you wake up you can feel the weight of Tom sleeping in the bed beside you and you smile into the sheets.

It's the first morning in a while you've woken up and not felt heartache. You stretch your limbs a little bit, not wanting to jar the bed too much and wake him. You close your eyes while lying there on your stomach, listening to him breathing.

His low chuckle alerts you to the fact that you weren't as careful as you'd thought. "I'd forgotten how restless you are in the morning." You can feel the bed move and then his lips press against your shoulder blade.

You bite your lip and shift your head to look at him, "I was trying not to wake you... Hmm what time is your flight? Do we have time for breakfast?"

"There's plenty of time." He stays right where he is, just breathing and soaking up the close contact while he has you hugged against him.

You stretch again, this time rolling and leaning further back into his body while you let a contented yawn escape. "Alright – we can see what I have in the kitchen then." Tom doesn't reply, instead keeping your body pressed tight against his and wandering his hand up your figure before dropping his arm over you to let his fingertips trace across your abdomen. When his hand starts traveling downward you swat his hand away. "You used up every last ounce of my willpower last night, Thomas. Stop it."

"Ow." He mutters into your shoulder.

"Shit! Sorry!" Why the hell was he using his injured hand like that? You pop upright in the bed and spin to him, trying to figure out if he is just teasing you or if it really had hurt when you'd just smacked him.  No – he wasn't kidding. Your face falls. His wrist has a lovely bruise as a result of the events of the previous day. "Oh Tom – look at your hand..."

He flexes his hand around while he speaks to prove his words, "I'm fine. Still functions. It's nothing they can't conceal with a bit of makeup."

You crawl from the bed still battling your guilt. If he had just let go of your wrist on the convention center floor he wouldn't have the bruise – but you wouldn't be waking up next to him either. On the bright side – you're not hung-over from the many rounds of drinks consumed last night.

You dress in your running gear but Tom only has the clothes that he'd been wearing for his panel. He foregoes buttoning up the dress shirt which provides you with a lovely mental image to store away for later.

Over breakfast you try to form a strategy with Tom regarding his departure from your place. You ramble on while Tom sips at his coffee. "Do you want to go ahead and call Bruce and John? You might still be able to head out before my usual running group shows – though after the convention yesterday – we might have a few others out on the sidewalk as well... Maybe it would be better to let them follow me running and then have John and Bruce come?"

Tom shakes his head, setting the mug down on the table before him, "And skip out on the morning run? Not a chance."

You look pointedly at his attire, forcing your eyes back up to meet his. Tom is being a tease and loving every second of it. "You're going running. Like that."

"They'll bring my bag with them and we can all go running together. It will only take a second to change." He takes a bite of food while you shake your head at him.

"I – alright. But it's nothing like running in the park. I think you'll laugh at the duckling train once we get started though. Now – where's my phone..." Richard had managed to retrieve your phone from where you'd dropped it in hall H but where had you put it? Was it in still in the pocket of your pants that had been tossed into the laundry basket?

Tom motions over his shoulder, "With your keys on the table by the door."

Richard doesn't sound entirely thrilled with the idea but he warms to the thought considerably when you mention that John and Bruce will be joining as well. He arrives only moments ahead of the other two, the last man in the door carrying Tom's travel bag. While Tom is changing everyone waits in the living room chatting. "Quite a few more than just the usual group out there, ______." Richard jerks his head over his shoulder towards the sidewalk. You hadn't dared peek out to see the condition of the street.

"And more followed from the hotel." John adds. "If the pair of you think you're actually going to do any running today, you might need to reevaluate."

You shrug helplessly, "I tried suggesting that Richard and I go for our usual run to lead the group away so Tom could leave and get to the airport but he didn't much like that plan..."

Bruce barks out a laugh, "You do remember he ran out on the panel so he could chase you down yesterday, yea?"

"Oh yes – vividly."

Tom reappears, splaying his hands wide as though to clap them together before remembering that such an action probably wouldn't be wise. He is addressing the group but watching you closely, "Alright. Everyone ready for this?"

"The guys don't think we're going to get to run this morning." You pull your hair up into a bun while you speak.

Tom snags your hat before you can retrieve it from the loveseat. "Well that would be a shame – we're already dressed for it."

You're trying to take the hat back without bumping Tom's injured hand – of course he's taking full advantage of your hesitance. "Are you sure you don't want to skip out and just go on to the airport?"

"I distinctly remember someone promising me she wouldn't push me away this the morning." Tom scolds you while continuing to play keep away with your hat. 

You momentarily internally panic at his words but his eyes are still sparkling with joy and you're able to push the panic aside. He's going to remind you of that every chance he gets from now on. Not that you don't deserve it but - joy. "Oh you stubborn man." 

Tom settles your hat on your head, wiggling it just slightly from his hold on the bill. "Pot."

"Kettle."

Richard sighs, "Oh for the love of – running? Flight to catch?"