Have some partially rendered stuff.
It’s not even about sex most of the time. For them, it’s about this impossible connection that they’ve found in each other.
Chris will sometimes be lounging against the door frame of whoever’s hotel kitchen they happen to be killing time in, and after staring at him for long enough, Tom is hit with an overpowering need to touch.
Not necessarily intimately. Just the sensation of touch. Maybe his hand in Chris’ back pocket, maybe his fingers tangled up in the Aussie’s ridiculous hair.
Right now, it’s the middle of the press tour and Tom feels like he’s been taking intravenous shots of caffeine for the past two days straight (he obviously hasn’t, but the endless cups of coffee are close enough). His hands are shaking, just enough to be noticeable if you look close enough, and he feels like he can’t sit still.
His heart rate speeds up and slows down at odd intervals, and he’s crossing the room to where Chris is lounging against the back of the sofa without realizing that his feet are moving.
Chris’ warm blue eyes crinkle a little at the edges (Tom loves those laugh lines more than he cares to admit), and he obediently raises both arms as Tom starts pushing his grey v-neck up to his armpits. He doesn’t make a sound, aside from drawn-out exhale that distantly resembles the purr of a big cat.
Tom stays close, pressing absent kisses to the side of Chris’ throat, then keeps working at getting the v-neck up the Aussie’s arms and finally off altogether. He feels inordinately pleased with himself for having vanquished such a formidable foe, then hides his smile in the curve of Chris’ shoulder.
It takes a few plucks of his fingers to coax Chris’ hair out of its standard bun, and once the blond locks spill out over the man’s shoulders, Tom gets his fingers tangled in them and holds on for dear life. He imagines he must be hurting Chris’ scalp a bit, but the Aussie doesn’t say a thing, just slips both arms loosely around his waist, holding him up.
Tom closes his eyes, at last breathing out a shaky exhale that soothes the random tremors in his body. He presses his lips to Chris’ bare shoulder again, and wonders when exactly this started making sense.
As Chris turns his head a little and Tom feels a gentle kiss being pressed to his temple, he decides he doesn’t care.