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.