The Pickle Chronicles (Celebrity One Shots)

One Night Only (Tom Hiddleston)

A/N: Wrote this quickly this morning while watching Coriolanus.  Just a short little smutty smut smut ;)  If you read on Archive of Our Own, I am on there as well as Circa1927.

Molly pressed her forehead against the worn wood of the door, and took a deep breath.  This wouldn’t be easy.  She knew it was going to be hard, really hard.  But she’d been preparing for it for days, maybe even weeks. 

The corridor around her was starting to clear of people.  It had been a packed house at the Donmar that night.  Every night was a packed house.  She’d sat through the show, watching, but not really paying attention.  At least not to the play.  She paid attention to Tom, because how could she not? To be honest, the couple of hours she would spend sitting in the audience watching him was more than she had seen him in weeks.  Feeling him crawl into bed at ungodly hours and fall into a deep, exhausted sleep didn’t count.  She left for work before he had to get up and he was gone when she got home, and so they had spent about one afternoons worth of time together ever since his show had started.  She knew this would happen.  She had known.  But she wasn’t sure she could do it anymore.  She wasn’t sure that Tom even wanted to do it anymore.  He was distant.  He didn’t seem like he was even trying anymore.  They both were just going through the motions.  She hated feeling this way. 

Molly sighed softly, and then tapped gently on his door.  It took a moment, but the door opened slowly, just a bit, revealing Tom’s face.  He was still for a moment, his eyes taking her in, and then he inhaled sharply.

“Come in.” He opened the door wider.  He kept his hand on the door, high up on the frame, making Molly step gingerly under his arm and slide past him.  She slipped into his dressing room, and Tom closed the door behind her.

Molly looked around the room.  She’d been here before.  Just a few times.  Back when Tom first got the job, she came to a few rehearsals.  And of course she was there for opening night.  But that seemed to be ages ago. Another life time.

“Good job tonight.” She said, turning around and sitting on the armrest of the small couch that sat against the wall.  It wasn’t a huge room, but there was enough space for a large dressing table that was well lit with vanity lights and a huge mirror, a small couch and a table.  Tom had covered most of the space in mementos.  Notes from friends, family and fans.  Notes of his own as reminders.  A few photos hung tacked to the mirror. 

“Thank you, love.  How are you?” Tom asked, ever the gentleman.  He took a few steps forward, and Molly looked at him for the first time since she’d entered the room.  His hair was damp, his skin looked dewy and clean.  He must have just gotten out of the shower, as he spent half the play covered in blood, sweat and dirt. He was wearing a plain black tshirt, over black trousers.  He was barefoot, and looked rather relaxed.

“I’m fine.  It’s good to see you.” She said, her voice tense and clipped.  Tom opened his mouth slightly, then closed it.  He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the dressing table.  Molly stared straight ahead, her eyes on him, but not focused.  She could make out the blurry figure of him.  He took up more space than he should.  He’d put on some muscle for the role, and his lean frame held the muscle well.  His shoulders and neck seemed broader, his waist and chest wider.  His arms bulged against the thin material of his shirt.  Molly knew she would hate herself later, but she had to end it.

“Molly, love…” Tom leaned down, squatting in front of her.  He put a hand on her knee, and Molly stared at it. 

“We should just be honest with each other. This isn’t working.  I barely see you. I don’t even know what we’re doing anymore.  I hate to do this to you during your run, and so close to Christmas but…”She looked at him, finally looking into his eyes.  God, he was so handsome.  Even though he was tired, and it was pretty obvious, he was still gorgeous.  He had a bit of stubble on his jaw, and his clear, winter blue eyes were locked on her.  His brow was furrowed, and he watched her, concerned.  She focused in on his mouth, and his expressive lips.