April 26 2012, 07:53 PM

Debts and Payback

Just a quickie lead in as to just why Chris didn’t have the manbun for this interview. Looks like it was up at some point so. Also as usual this is some crazy ambiguous shit that facts may not totally line up to what actually took place—I didn’t watch the full interview yet. There’s no porn, I’m sorry. Next time. Written for Lindsey because I’m the worst human. Also not beta’d, proofread over a pint of Guinness and my eternal apologies to Tom and Chris for shipping them so much. ( AO3 link )


The trouble with sharing a dressing room is that someone is in the way. It’s never just Chris and Tom. Maybe all their handlers know that it’s not the greatest of ideas (rumors, rumors, must be careful about spreading rumors). Not that Tom (or Chris for that matter) would utter one complaint about having to share with Mark. He’s great—they all get along really well. And, truthfully, it’s been fun with the three of them. A new element, a new friend.

But sometimes, like right now, he’s sort of the fly in the ointment.

Except, because he’s such a good guy, it’s almost as if he can read the atmosphere. When Tom’s leg jangles a little too much from where he sits perched on the edge of the couch, when Chris’ tap, tap, tapping of his fingers on the wooden end table becomes a little too much, he politely excuses himself with the claim of making a phonecall.

Once the door had clicked in place—Tom could see the lock had been turned and that meant the world—silence descends over the room. That leg had stopped shaking, the blunt nails stopped scratching against the wood every few taps. Had a pin dropped in the building nextdoor, they could’ve heard it as if it’d been right in front of them.

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April 22 2012, 02:21 PM


Hhhh okay. First time writing rpf but I couldn’t help it. Just as a sidenote, this fic was written before all the Hiddlesworth angst that hit the internet after the London premiere but I lost steam in finishing it up. Anyway I guess just keep that in mind? Otherwise just enjoy mindless blowjobs??? ( AO3 link )


The soft notes of the music float through the rooms. A lilting female voice carries the words of heroes and Chris couldn’t stop the slight smile that found its way to his lips. Over the melody, he could hear tins opening, dishes clinking and the kettle beginning to warm over the stove. Sunlight streamed in through the crack in the curtains and is getting dangerously close to streaking across his eyes. He could roll over, but that required more effort than he was willing to make at the moment. Instead, he presses his face into the pillow, stray golden strands of hair slide down to curtain over his face almost as if to help hide the smile that grows bigger.

They’re in London today. A block of rooms was reserved for the cast at a nearby hotel, but after parting ways with everyone after dinner the night before, Tom had taken Chris back to his place. Home. They didn’t have a lot of time to spare today and had to be down at Westfield early afternoon, so they made the most of their time. Will continue to make the most of it until they have to part ways. His eyes squint open to stare at the clock—no point in wasting even more time lazing around in bed. His phone buzzes against the wood of the nightstand, but goes ignored. He already knows it is littered with texts asking where he was last night and where he is now.

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