Work Text:
Weather
“Tom,” I whispered against his bare shoulder, the torment of the past three months robbing me of my voice. Curling my arm under his to splay my hand across his shoulder blade, I nuzzled his neck, breathing him in, his presence, his strength, his love. “I’ve missed you so much… so, so much.”
In the light of the window, he held me closer, chasing away the clouds of our months apart and those hanging low over London. The rain continued while my man and I rekindled our intimacy. He absorbed me as much as I was him. His hand snaked around my waist, lowering down to the rounded flesh of my behind, swallowing me up in his embrace.
An emotional barrier came down between us upon his return, an invisible obstacle that Tom crushed. He showed me how vulnerable he was to our time apart, how he missed me. I felt inexplicably closer to him, he opened up to me in a way he never had before.
I pressed my bare flesh against his, from breast to ankle, skin to skin, purring with a contentment surrounding me. I felt his affection for me in his touch, in the small possessive squeezes, in the brush of his facial stubble across my cheek.
“Abigail,” he hummed across my ear, his voice honeyed and gruff. His right hand crawled up from my thigh up and paused at the curve of my waist. “The fog is lifting, but I don’t think it’ll be mist.”
I giggled quietly against his neck, invigorated by his returned punning. “Weather puns are a breeze.” I caressed my hand along his back, tracing his spine, touching each muscle, each dip, each peak.
Tom breathed, “It’s long over-dew,” I felt him snicker against my hair above my ear, laughing at his own jest.
I leaned back to meet his gaze, lifting my fingertips to his prominent cheekbones. “The brightest day of the week is Sun-day, Hiddleston.”
Without warning, he lifted me up into his arms, my arms and legs coiling around him on impulse, clutching him tightly. “Sundays are the best day,” he said. “Looking forward to taking up our habit again, spending that day each week, making love to you all day, like I used to do.”
I brushed my nose against his as he carried me to the bed. “That’s a solid plan,” I teased. We landed in a heap in the middle of the mattress with him on top of me, giggling as we settled. Tom thrust his erection against my folds. “A stiff schedule, Hiddleston. It’ll be hard to keep up with you.”
His elegant fingers feathered along my rib cage up to my breast for a loving squeeze. His lascivious grin spread across his face as he rolled my pebbled nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “Are you protesting, my little minx?"
I bowed into his touch, descending into the depths of desire, lust and love with my wayward lover, returned after too long. "Only… when…”
Tom claimed my lips before I could finish my thought of begging him not to leave again.