#wowleston

After their second coffee they decided to go for a walk and they walked and Tom talked and talked.

About Asgard, about Odin, about Frigga, about Thor.

And Owen would listen. Just listen. Listen to Tom’s voice.

“I think this is enough for today,” Tom eventually said. “But actually… there’s still so much more. So if you’re interested.. we can meet again… tomorrow? Have dinner maybe?”

And Owen said, “Sure, why not.”

The next morning Owen was surprised to realize that he had had a good sleep.

He hadn’t slept through for a long time. The past months once more had been difficult for him. He got instable again. Couldn’t sleep at night and the longing to numb his thoughts with alcohol or drugs was immense.

Last night he hadn’t needed anything.

Dinner with Tom was great. It was like watching a Marvel movie in real life while eating. Only Tom was far too busy talking and shifting his plate, his glass and the silverware around so he could show more “precisely” what was going on, so his dinner got cold. Owen loved Tom’s British accent, the words he would use. It was just fun to listen to him.

So when Tom asked “Tomorrow… beach?” he was all in.

Again he had a good night sleep.

The day at the beach was the most relaxing day he could think of. Walking, with naked feet in the sand, and hearing Tom talk.

On the fourth day though Tom couldn’t give Owen a Loki lecture because he had a meeting.

And the whole day Owen had the feeling of missing something.

In the evening he was almost ready to go to bed when Tom knocked at his door.

“I thought we might have some catching up to do. We are doing so good I thought you shouldn’t be a day without a Loki lecture.” He had sheets with notes on it in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. Owen couldn’t help but smile.

They sat on the couch and Tom talked and talked, leaning now and then over to show him clips on his mobile. And Owen thought: What the hell, this man even smells good.

It was past midnight when Tom left and when Owen fell asleep he still had Tom’s voice in his head, the one that got so dark and sensual.

The next morning he woke up with a boner but yeah, he was a man, things like this just happened. Right?

That night though - the Loki lecture had finished and Tom had given him an A+ -, Owen felt somehow… lost. Without Tom’s voice.

The soft and warm tone, the enthusiasm, the British slang of course. He realized how much it soothed him to hear Tom talk.

So he grabbed his phone, put the earphones in, wrote “Tom Hiddleston” in the search field of youtube and ...

Yeah, this was better.

*

Tom on the other side was missing something else when Loki school stopped.

He missed Owen.

And because he had done all the talking, he felt bad for not asking Owen anything.

Sure it had been about their work, he had talked about Loki, not about himself. But if he was honest, there was a lot of Loki in him. So talking about Loki like this, always felt a bit like talking about himself.

The search for identity, finally accepting who you are…

But what about Owen?

He wanted to know what Owen felt about all that.

He really needed to ask him.

The few days they had been together, Tom had realized what an insightful and intelligent man Owen was. He hadn’t known that underneath that cool and charming image was this thoughtful profoundness.

Of course he knew about his suicide attempt. But how easily one was forgetting this again if you always saw the sunny boy in someone.

He had loved every sharp question Owen had asked him, and how interested he had been when he just could have only done his job and learned the lines. He couldn’t think of someone who would have been more enduring to listen to his talking.

And of course he loved Owen’s characteristic slang and every single “Wow” he had uttered.

And that was when he grabbed his phone that night after they had finished Loki School. To hear Owen’s Wow’s on youtube.

And as Tom couldn’t wait to hear Owen saying “Wow” live again, Owen couldn’t wait to hear Tom saying some sophisticated British stuff again.

So when the day of the first reading rehearsal came both of them were quite nervous.

Because… how embarrassing was it if the other knew that they always listened to the other’s voice before falling asleep. That the other’s voice was like a soothing drug to them.

“How are -?“

“Nice to s- !"

They both interrupted each other's words.

And laughed. Nervously.

Before they tried again.

“You first –“

“Please go on-“

And laughed again.

Till Tom tapped himself on his chest with his finger like a pantomime, showing with it that he would start.

Owen nodded, waited.

Saw Tom standing there, smiling at him, taking a deep breath.

“God, Owen, I’m so sorry that I came over to your place this one night! You must think I’m such a lunatic. I’m sorry,” Tom’s hand was on his chest. “But I don’t know, I guess, I just enjoyed your company... a lot.”

For the last two words Tom’s voice went low… Very low. And sensual.

And it hit Owen somewhere deep inside of him.

That was the moment when Owen thought that he might have a crush on Tom Fucking Hiddleston.

So he said “Wow.” Just that.

And in exactly this moment Tom felt a tingling feeling all over his body and thought that yes, he might be in love with Owen Fucking Wilson.