The Many Faces of Tom (Tom Hiddleston Imagines/One Shots)

25: Voice of an Angel

The television had been paid very little attention to all night. A blanket had been draped around your shoulders and you sat with your legs stretched out in front of you. You were waiting up until Tom returned home, having spent the evening at the Olivier Awards. He had been nominated for Best Actor in his role of Coriolanus, having gone in support if you haven't been so tied up in last minute deadlines. The feeling dragged you down a little as you typed furiously with the laptop balanced on your knees, glancing at the clock every so often.

Keys jangled outside the door and moments later the door opened. Your closed down the laptop, wanting nothing more to do with work as you quickly pushed it aside. Tom entered the apartment, one of the biggest grins plastered on his face. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes bright.
"Hello darling!" Tom cried out happily. "How was your evening?"
You tried to hide a smile. It appeared Tom had become tipsy on the champagne. You shrugged the blanket off your shoulders, reaching out and taking his hands.
"It was fine thank you. How were the awards? Did you win?" you asked excitedly.
Tom shook his head.
"Lost out to Rory. Good old Rory, he deserved to win in the end."
Tom chuckled for no apparent reason before bringing you into a hug. You were crushed against his tuxedo, causing you to giggle into his crumpled shirt.
"Ah well, next time perhaps," you smiled, leaning up and kissing his cheek. "You are always a winner in my eyes."
"Oh, oh darling." Tom involuntary blushed and kissed you on the mouth. "It's so generous of you to say so."

He hugged you again before swooping you off your feet. You yelped as he did, throwing back your head and laughing. Tom was also laughing before he placed you down again, teasing a kiss on either cheek.
"You sound so cute when you giggle," Tom remarked. "Have I ever told you that?"
"No, I don't think you have," you smiled.
"Well you do." Tom kissed you again before lowering his arms to his sides. In the moment of silence the TV played quietly inside the living room. Tom turned his head, his gaze falling across the screen. Whilst you had been flicking aimlessly through the channels, you hadn't realised you had stopped on a music channel.

"I know this song," Tom murmured, suddenly his expression becoming clear. "I love this song!"
It was Stand By Me by Ben E. King. Tom dived for the television remote and turned it up loud. He had started tapping his foot, the remote held to his mouth and using it as an impromptu microphone. You groaned, flopping down onto the settee and closing your eyes. Not again Tom.

When the night has come

And the land is dark

And the moon,

Is the only light we'll see.

Despite Tom's best singing efforts, even he had admitted he sounded like a cat being sick. He turned to look at you and grinned.
"Come on darling, sing with me," Tom requested, offering you a second 'microphone'.
You took the remote from his hand, rolling your eyes and shaking your head disbelieving at him. Tom laughed before throwing a extended arm around your shoulder, kissing the top of your head. "This is my favourite part," Tom whispered excitedly.

So darlin' darlin'

Stand by me

Oh, stand by me

Oh, stand,

Stand by me

Stand by me.

Sounding like two strangled cats being sick, you both collapsed onto the settee after singing another three songs. His laughter was infectious, causing you to laugh as he sprawled himself across the settee with his legs across yours. His feet dangled off the side. You didn't complain. You were contented enough as it was, having lifted your spirits that evening. Tom placed his hands behind his head. You wondered if he would remember what he had done tonight. The thought of him remembering the following morning made you giggle to yourself. Tom lifted his head a little, his interested eyes now on yours.
"What are you laughing at hmm?" Tom asked lightly.
"Oh, it's nothing Tom."
"You would rather not tell me?"
"Not a word."
"Well then."
Tom uncrossed his legs and sat up, a smirk present on his lips. You frowned, about to ask him what he was doing when his hands dived across and started tickling you.

"Oh god Tom, not again!" you laughed, trying to bat his hands away.
He chuckled and he advanced to brush his fingertips across your stomach and your legs, where you were at most ticklish. You tried defending yourself, crossing your arms across your body. Defence was futile, as he had you rolling around on the floor, becoming entangled in one another. Sprawled across the rug and entirely breathless. It wasn't until you had caught your breath back you leaned across him and kissed him.
"I love you," you murmured against his lips.
Tom silently held you against him, his suit crumpled and his bow tie askew. Out of memory, you reached over and straightened it. It caused Tom to smile.