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want you bad

Summary:

On the set of Interview With the Vampire, Tom had some creative differences with the crew. He decided the right way to handle this was to rewrite the script and give it to Brad. Brad wanting to go over the scene wouldn't have been an issue if it didn't include them kissing.

or

Tom Cruise writes fanfiction about him and Brad Pitt, but didn't expect to act it out.

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Tom might have taken acting more seriously than anything else in his life. Putting everything into learning lines, perfecting mannerisms, and getting into the mindset of his characters to the point of mastering them, made it worth it every time. That’s how it had been for all his previous roles, so it was no different when Lestat molded into his bones. That’s when it got fun.

 

One day on set, Tom was familiarizing himself with that day’s scene, flipping through the script lazily. He knew all of his lines already, but he liked to imagine how Brad would do his part. From where he sat on set, he watched someone perfecting Brad’s hair, moving a strand from one side to the other. He imagined himself in the woman’s shoes, as Lestat of course, picking at the tiny imperfections a newly turned Louis might still carry with him. 

 

Brad caught him staring a few moments after, but Tom’s gaze didn’t falter. He waited until Brad’s attention was back on what the woman was saying before glancing at the script again. He decided he wanted to touch Brad’s hair and would do it in a few takes. Or Lestat would want to touch Louis’ hair, probably. 

 

So he did. The words flew out of his mouth gracefully as his hand played with the long hair covering Brad’s ear. Brad was a professional, but even Tom could see the way he took notice of Tom’s unprompted gesture. He heard ‘cut’ and Brad looked like he was about to say something before he was cut off by the director.

 

“Tom, do one without the touching.”

 

Of course Tom had to explain his vision. “I feel like Lestat would be admiring his creation, almost like it was his own handiwork that made Louis look that perfect.”

 

He could see Brad smirking out of the corner of his eye. The director nodded. “Exactly, but we’re still building climax here. Keep that intense expression though.”

 

Tom was annoyed, but didn’t argue further. The director was probably right, but that didn’t mean that his idea wouldn’t be more interesting. Nonetheless, he kept his hands to himself for the rest of that day's shoot. 

 

Maybe it was his Lestat mindset or maybe it was just his curiosity that made him come up with the idea. After the set was clear, Tom snuck into the writers room and found himself in front of a computer. It wasn’t difficult for him to figure out the script writing programs that the writers used. 

 

From the copy of the script Tom carried, he copied the format perfectly. He decided to add his own scene to a preexisting one. After Lestat showed Louis that he could drink blood from animals to survive, he started writing about Lestat forking his hand through Louis’ hair, wanting to see his reaction to the blood from a closer angle. Tom imagined the scene as he typed, but found himself focusing more on actions than dialogue. He thought about pulling Louis’ hair back in a tight grip, as he was careless in letting the blood slide down his face. Louis would groan at the feeling, which would make Tom–Lestat want to pull it again. 

 

Tom cleared his throat, deleting that last part. Instead, he knew Lestat would want to wipe off the blood before it stained his clothes, thumb brushing over his chin. Lestat would probably suck the blood off his finger, never breaking eye contact. It wouldn’t be enough. Lestat would wipe his finger over Louis’ lips, searching for more without luck, leaving him with no choice but to lick into his mouth instead. Getting addicted to the way Brad’s mouth felt would make Tom suck his bottom lip, drowning in the surprised huff from Brad. Well Lestat would get addicted to Louis.

 

“Fuck.” Tom whispered, pressing his palm over his groin to ease the tension. He shook his head, but the errors in his typing made his embarrassment inevitable. Feeling more horny than ashamed, Tom corrected his mistakes and simplified the scene before printing out two copies. He deleted the drafts on the computer before leaving. 


He decided he would leave the script in Brad’s trailer the next day. Their shoot was short, the rain not cooperating with the vision. So Tom ran to Brad’s trailer to drop the script off before coming back to set to take off his costume. Brad had a cigarette between his fingers when he came up to Tom before leaving. They talked casually on their way to the trailers. Normally, they stayed in hotels and only used trailers between takes. But Tom had a feeling Brad might have a few questions and only have one person around to ask who is conveniently in the trailer next to his.

 

“You’re not staying here right?” Brad asked when Tom walked him to the trailer door. 

 

“I think I will. I just wanna go over a few things and I’ll be less distracted here.”

 

“Alright, see you tomorrow.” Brad disappeared into his trailer.

 

Tom smirked as he walked into his own, leaving the door unlocked. He guessed it wouldn’t be more than ten minutes before Brad came knocking. Kicking off his shoes, Tom sat on the couch and stretched his legs over the coffee table. He left his own version of the script on the table, while looking at the script they were supposed to look through that night. 

 

A few minutes later, Tom heard a knock. He had to laugh at how predictable Brad was, but was able to command his face back to normal before calling out. “Come in!”

 

What he couldn’t predict, was how bashful Brad looked when he walked in. Tom’s eyes followed the script in his hand, gripped tightly before schooling his expression once again. “Did you read this?”

 

Tom sat up, grabbing his copy from the table. “Briefly.” His eyes scanned over it quickly. “Didn’t expect it.”

 

“That’s all you have to say about it?” Brad closed the door behind him and began to pace.

 

“I mean, he didn’t like me touching your hair and now he wants us to kiss, so yeah. I’d say I’m surprised.” Tom folded his arms innocently.

 

A blush rose to Brad’s face. “They never asked us about this. Not even a mention of anything like this.”

 

“You’re nervous.” Tom said it as a statement rather than a question.

 

Brad opened his mouth in protest, but stopped himself. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Aren’t you?”

 

Tom paused, feeling guilty.

 

This was his chance. He could laugh it off as a joke and just enjoy the stress he unnecessarily placed on his castmate. But what sane person would write that about their costar? Even as a joke, it sounded suspicious. Part of him knew the real reason he wrote it was because he actually wanted to go through with it.

 

Maybe if it really was in the script, Tom would be calmer about the situation. But, Tom was starting to feel like an asshole. 

 

“I doubt they’ll go through with it. They might just want to see what we think.” Tom sighed. “I’ll tell them it’s not a good idea and we can forget about it.”

 

“If it was just an idea, wouldn’t they ask us about it straight up?” Brad asked, head tilted.

 

Tom was quick to respond. “It’s probably a joke.”

 

“I don’t know, it’s not a good one if so.” Tom made a face of agreement, cringing at himself. This was way less fun than he had imagined. Brad sat down next to Tom on the couch. “Maybe we should be prepared just in case.”

 

“I love the enthusiasm, but it’s not needed.” Tom rolled his eyes.

 

“I’m probably only uncomfortable because I’ve never done it before.” Brad argued.

 

“What happened to you being all pissy about this project?” Tom was genuinely curious. This change in Brad’s demeanor was unexpected.

 

“I guess the stress of this scene is more distracting than the other discomforts.” Brad shrugged.

 

All of a sudden, Tom didn’t feel bad anymore. Fine, if Brad suddenly found an interest in this film, Tom was going to make sure he didn’t lose it. “Alright, why don’t we run lines now?”

 

“Right now?” Brad’s cheeks were a slight pink colour.

 

“No better time than the present.” Tom had a cocky look on his face, almost daring Brad to back out.

 

Brad nodded. “Okay.” He rubbed his hands over his thighs before giving his script a once-over. 

 

He gave Tom a nod, prompting them to start. The beginning of the scene was the same as the original script, so they had no issues following the previous patterns of the script. Tom had already tossed his script to the side, knowing exactly where he wanted the scene to go.

 

“Anything is possible.” Tom spoke as Lestat, finishing the final original lines from the script.

 

He then lifted up his hand to Brad’s chin, imagining the blood dripping from his bottom lip.

“Oh, Louis. So wasteful.” 

 

His thumb brushed over Brad’s bottom lip before sucking the tip of his thumb. Brad watched carefully, letting Tom take the lead. Instead of following his own script and kissing Brad straight away, Tom brought his spit-slicked thumb to Brad’s lips in question. Tom could tell when Brad broke character, furrowing his brows at Tom. But, Tom only pouted, mockingly as Lestat, daring him to go through with it.

 

So Brad’s mouth fell open slightly, making room for Tom’s thumb, pressing gently on his tongue. Tom was in awe with how much better Brad looked than he expected with his mouth around his finger. He couldn’t get too distracted, so he pulled away slowly, cupping the side of Brad’s face. Leaning in, he brushed his lips against Brad’s first to test the waters. Once he decided Brad wouldn’t run away, he pressed closer, hearing a sharp inhale from Brad’s nose. 

 

As Tom’s hands bracketed Brad’s face, Brad’s were left hung by his sides. Tom didn’t like that, pulling them to sit on his hips instead. He licked into Brad’s mouth, imagining how Lestat would want to taste every part of Louis. He couldn’t help but groan when Brad bit his bottom lip, arching forward to meet Brad’s hips.

 

Brad’s grip tightened on Tom’s hips, before moving a hand to push back on his chest, slightly aggressively. Tom was taken aback, mouth still open as his eyes betrayed his wish to look unbothered. Brad forked a hand through his hair. “What the fuck.”

 

“I’ll tell them ‘no’, don’t worry about it.” Tom said, a little out of breath. Brad only stared at him, shaking his head. His eyes scanned over Tom’s body and Tom’s eyes hardened. “What?”

 

“You’re jumpy.” Brad said, quietly as his eyebrows furrowed. 

 

“You’re overanalysing things.” Tom bit back.

 

“This script, it’s not real, is it?” 

 

He was smarter than Tom gave him credit for.

 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Tom sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. 

 

“None of this made sense, but with you enjoying that a lot more than you should’ve–” Brad didn't say it teasingly or mockingly, but Tom’s chest still ached, leading to him pushing Brad on his chest. Stumbling back for a second, Brad caught his wrists. “Hey, stop.”

Tom wanted to deny it, feeling embarrassed and guilty. He thought of his wife, then decided he had already done enough damage. He shook away Brad’s grip and sat down on the couch again. “Look, I’m sorry. That was messed up, I just–”

 

“Wanted to kiss me?” Brad asked, sounding genuinely curious. Tom didn’t reply, one of his few speechless moments. “I’m just surprised, is all.”

 

Tom paused for a moment. “Call it, curiosity.”

 

Brad joined him on the couch. He grabbed his forearm like he was afraid Tom was going to run away from the contact. “How curious are you?”

 

Tom cocked his head to the side. Before he could respond, Brad moved his hands to his belt, watching Tom’s reaction carefully. Tom’s eyes followed the movement, almost in a trance-like state, which Brad must have taken as a sign to pop open the button of his jeans and pull down the zipper.

 

Brad’s semi-hard cock was perfectly displayed in front of him and Tom didn’t know what to do. He met Brad’s eyes again, noting the candidness in his expression. He then wrapped his hand around Brad’s cock, eliciting a groan from the other man. “Oh.”

 

He moved his wrist slowly at first, getting a feel for the rhythm which felt different on another person versus himself. Brad’s cock was hardening quickly, any nervousness from Tom melted away from the little pants coming from Brad’s mouth.

 

Deciding that he wanted to hear more, Tom moved off the couch, in between Brad’s legs. Before he could debate his next move, Tom licked the underside of Brad’s cock to the tip. “Fuck, Tom.” Tom looked up to meet his gaze.

 

“You want me to stop?”

 

Brad gripped the couch, hard. “No.” Tom sat unmoved, like he was awaiting more. “Please.”

 

“Since you asked so nicely.” Tom leaned down, wrapping his lips around Brad’s tip, sucking gently. Brad’s moans encouraged him, taking in more and focusing on his sounds to keep him from choking. Finally, Brad moved a hand to the back of Tom’s head, gentler than he would have expected.

 

Tom let himself be guided, using his hand where his mouth couldn’t reach. He wondered if Lestat would do this for Louis. He worshipped him, sure, but he might be too cocky to let Louis comb a hair through his hair, or control the pace. But he didn’t care how they would do it, because this was Brad and there’s no mistaking him for anything else.

 

This was Brad’s hips bucking up, while Tom’s free hand held him down. It was Brad whining every time his tongue flicked over his tip. It was definitely Brad who spoke, all breathy and desperate. “I’m gonna come.”

 

It’s that fact that turned Tom on way more than he should have been. So he hummed, not slowing the bobbing of his head. His hand gripped hard into Brad’s hip when he felt the come hit the back of his throat. 

 

“Fuck.” Brad breathed out, his hand easing up on Tom’s hair. Tom licked around Brad’s sensitive tip before pulling off completely. 

 

Tom was hit with a wave of boldness, getting up from his knees and straddling Brad’s hips. Brad’s hands moved to rest on Tom’s thighs, likely subconsciously. His hard-on was uncomfortable in his pants, but before focusing on that, he grabbed the bottom of Brad’s shirt and pulled it above his head. Brad complied, still in the glow of his orgasm to question anything. So when Tom freed his cock from his pants, Brad’s mouth hung open slightly, but no protest followed.

 

Spitting into his hand, Tom knew he wouldn’t last. Brad’s half-lidded eyes and heavy chest made his hand move faster. He aimed himself over Brad’s chest when he came, spilling over the toned muscle. Brad still somehow looked perfect even with the come dripping over his chest. Tom thought the right thing to do would be to clean him up.

 

He lowered his face to Brad’s chest, and licked a stripe of his release. He wondered what was going through Brad’s mind, because his own seemed to have its own agenda. After licking the final bit off of his chest, he brought his face up to Brad’s again. Brad’s mouth opened without question, their tongues brushing. Tom kissed him properly before pulling away.

 

“Have you ever thought about going into screenwriting?” Brad asked, their faces only a few inches apart.

 

Tom licked his lips. “I might have a few more ideas to run past you.”