Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/834955.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Choose_Not_To_Use_Archive_Warnings, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      British_Actor_RPF, Australian_Actor_RPF
  Relationship:
      Chris_Hemsworth/Tom_Hiddleston
  Character:
      Tom_Hiddleston, Chris_Hemsworth, Emma_Hiddleston, Diana_Hiddleston,
      mention_of_liam_hemsworth
  Additional Tags:
      Plot_What_Plot/Porn_Without_Plot, Running, Fingerfucking, Anal_Sex, Oral
      Sex, Public_Sex, Forest_Sex, Biting, Hair-pulling, Bodily_Fluids,
      Comeplay, Masturbation, Implied_Underage, Underage_Smoking, bottom!Tom,
      wow_what_a_lot_of_kinks
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-06-08 Words: 3867
****** Competition ******
by ninzz
Summary
     Prompt: Chris and Tom are cross country runners from rival schools.
     Tom is the established champion and Chris the upstart transfer from
     another district. They run into each other while training in the
     woods and disdain and anger quickly turn to lust with lots of fucking
     each other against trees.
     therefore I took it and ran with it.
     Chris is the new kid, Tom befriends him. That is, until he finds out
     that Chris plans on competing in the cross-country. Tom wants to win
     his friendship back to throw him off his game, and boy, does he.
Notes
     Jesus fuck this is the dirtiest thing I ever wrote and gosh it has
     some terrible puns in it
     good god
     Anyway, enjoy it hun! I'm sorry it took me so long, but writing porn
     drains me a lot and so it takes me a while.
Tom felt the ribbon snap against his stomach as he sailed past the finish line,
well clear of any of the other competitors. He looked back as he crossed it,
smiling gleefully at the others behind him. This was the third race he had won
this week – but he would tell you he had in fact only taken part in three this
week, so it was more impressive than it sounded. It was a well-known fact that
he never lost a race these days. Everyone called him ‘Fast Tom’, especially his
peers in school, as they used it not only to describe his running ability, but
also his sex life. He insisted that the rumours about him that went about were
not true at all, thankyouverymuch.The nickname eventually caught on with the
adult community, much to his chagrin.
Of course, he had not simply ascended to this level in the running game without
his fair share of failures; indeed, he had lost a number of races and broken a
few bones. Over the years he had practiced and pushed himself, this year more
than most, as he was due to take part in a cross-country marathon. If he won –
which he would, he told himself – the rewards would be beyond anything he had
gained thus far.
Tom plopped himself down on the grass beside the track to rest, arms draped
over his knees. He grabbed his water bottle and near-emptied it in several
pulls, some of the water managing to escape in his haste. A sluggish gust of
horrid warm wind blew past at that moment, and a chill skittered across his
sweat-slicked skin and danced down his back. He looked over to the other side
of the track, to the stands, and saw a heavily muscled, fairly young-looking
man sitting there, watching. He had long blonde hair, which was tied up in a
messy bun. He didn’t look like any of the other students at his school, but he
didn’t look like a dad either. Maybe he was a transfer he hadn’t heard about?
Tom realised he was staring at this man, but it seemed that he too had been
watching Tom the entire time, from when he started running up until this
moment. He stared for a few more moments, blue eyes boring into Tom’s own. He
then turned his face downward, stood up, trotted down the steps, and went into
the gym hurriedly. Tom dismissed this strange incident, instead turning his
gaze to the cars driving past on the highway on the other side of the field,
draining the last of his water pensively.
The next day Tom saw him again, this time in Literature class. He was seated
across the room, and seemed content to spend the entire lesson watching Tom. It
made him a little nervous, if he was being honest, but he put it down to a
healthy curiosity.
Three days later, Tom encountered the man again, and he seemed much less
distant than the day on the track, and considerably lesscreepy than the day
before.
He approached Tom in the cafeteria at lunchtime none too subtly, cutting the
line of mostly younger kids to stand next to him.
“Saw you run the other day, you were good,” he said absently. ‘He speaks!’Tom
thought to himself.
“Thanks,” Tom answered, looking at him and willing his eyes to meet with his
own. They did.
Good god, your eyes, Jesus fuck-“What was your name? Never did get it,” Tom
forced himself to ask.
“Chris,” he replied simply.
“I haven’t seen you about before, Chris. Are you new here?” Tom turned on his
‘charming smile’ - which had powers beyond that of any mere mortal, according
to the entire female populace of the school.
“Yeah, I am. I’m from Australia, if you’re wondering. A lot of the people here
seem to think I’m from Wales, which is actually kind of embarrassing.”
Tom bought his meal and waited for Chris to choose his own, then gestured to an
empty table. Chris’s eyebrows shot up.
“What?” Tom asked, setting his tray down on the table.
“No-one’s been openly nice to me yet, you’re the first one to even try to make
friends with me.”
“Oh. Well I’ll get first dibs, then, I suppose?” He laughed. “My friendses, no
one can have my friendses,”he rasped, in a near-perfect imitation of Smeagol’s
voice.
“God, you like Lord of The Rings? We’re going to get along verywell.”
Chris sat down and immediately tore into his lunch of coronation chicken and
rice like a man starved, while Tom pierced his Capri-Sun and sucked on the
straw, watching with a smile in his eyes.
“I meant to ask just now, why is it kind of embarrassing that people think
you’re from Wales?” Tom asked. Chris looked up from his plate and put his fork
down very seriously.
“In my experience, they’re quite nice, as long as you’re not a tour-“
 “Sheep-shagging.”
Tom nearly choked on his Capri-Sun.
“What?!”
“Sheep-shagging,” Chris repeated. “They think I shag sheep. As if we don’t have
women over there.”
“…Right.”
“It’s the New Zealanders that do that, not Australians.” Tom let out a squeal
of laughter so sudden and so loud it scared some first-formers on the table
across from them, and elicited a few strange glares from the teachers on the
other side of the room. A smirk spread across Chris’s face that slowly turned
into a grin, and then he couldn’t contain his own laughter anymore.
 
The next Tuesday, they met again - although they had spent a great deal of
lunchtimes and breaks together over the last week, it hadn’t been enough time
to actually talk - and spent the day getting to know one-another – by blowing
off school and going to the park across the block instead. Chris offered Tom a
joint, which he accepted. He wouldn’t normally, unless he felt comfortable and
safe with whoever he was with – which was telling. They shared it and relaxed
on the soft grass together. Chris found out that Tom was absolutely besotted
with the works of Shakespeare.
“No wonder you were the only person smiling when we were reading ‘Hamlet’ in
Lit class, then,” he said, smirking. “Hard-on for Hamlet. I’m poetic, too,
see?”
“Shut up!” Tom said. “I can’t help that I have an appreciation for classic
literature, can I? It’s way better than E.L. James, anyway – what all the
trendy kids are reading these days.” Chris snorted.
“Bet it gave you some ideas, though.”
“I suppose it did, but I felt that it wasn’t a very healthy representation
of…that kind of relationship.”
“And you would know what ishealthy representation of the BDSM lifestyle?”
“Well, no. But in my defence, I can speculate. And it is notthat. Anyway, we’re
getting off the subject.” He smacked the ground with his hand. “What do you
like most that you can think of at this moment?”
Apparently, Chris loved surfing, of all things.
“That’s so stereotypical!” he squealed. Chris punched him in the shoulder.
“Hey, I like the things I like. Don’t knock me for ‘em.” Chris held out the
joint, offering the last of it. Tom took it and sucked in a lungful of smoke.
“What other things do you like?” he asked.
“I like you.”
Tom breathed out, closing his eyes. He looked at Chris and smiled lazily. The
words were out before he could stop himself:
“I like you too.”
Fuck.
 
This easy friendship didn’t last long, however. When Tom found out that Chris
was planning on putting himself forward for the next cross-country race, in
which all the best candidates from each county were elected based on ability,
the camaraderie they had developed quickly disintegrated. It culminated in a
massive argument about ‘home territory’ and ‘stealing thunder’ that ended in
both of them storming away angrily. As it turned out, it was the very same one
that Tom himself was hoping to compete in, and apparently, all bets were on
Chris to be put forward instead. He dismissed this as a rumour being spread to
try and throw him off his game, so he asked around to hear who the general
populace thought would get through this year for himself.
It wasn’t Tom.
The majority of parents in the community even said Chris would get through. He
wondered to himself where this had all come from if even he hadn’t seen him run
– how could anyone else know? Tom’s sister Emma solved this problem, telling
him at the dinner table on Friday night – two days after the argument.
“Yeah, his brother Liam is going around telling everyone that he’s the fastest
runner he’s ever seen,” she said around a forkful of rice and chicken.
That put his mind at ease, because parents always thought their children were
good at everything.
“So, Tom, do you think you can outrun this…’Australian Bolt’?” his mother asked
him, smirking at her own joke.
“I think I can,” he smiled to himself. “I have an advantage.”
“What’s that?” Emma asked.
“I have the home advantage, don’t I?”
 
With that Tom decided to train harder than he ever had before, even enlisting
Emma to time him running round the block. She would sit on the bonnet of their
car, and he would run around, as fast as he could. Each time, he managed to
shave off some more time. Emma had an idea as Tom made his third round of the
block in under five minutes that Saturday morning.
“You’re pushing yourself too hard, Tom. Maybe you should be friendly with
Chris, you know?” she suggested, stopping the timer as Tom ground to a halt in
front of their house, panting.
“What do you mean?” he gasped.
“As in, appeal to his interests, maybe try and throw him off by being nice to
him.”
“Maybe you’re onto something, there, Emma. Do you think I should?”
“Definitely. The last thing he would expect is friendlycompetition.”
 
So, on Sunday, Tom went for a run through the forest a mile or so outside the
suburbs where he lived, fully expecting to run into Chris – possibly literally.
He ran at a leisurely pace, following the well-worn path through it. The forest
consisted mostly of deciduous trees, though some evergreens found their way in,
too. The afternoon sun filtered through the canopy, leaving speckles of green-
tinted light on the ground, lifting Tom’s mood further.
Before he knew it, he was at the opposite side of the forest, and so he circled
back.
He got to the other side, and there was no sign of Chris anywhere. He ran back
to his house, resolve shattered.
 
What he didn’t know was that Chris was there in the forest the entire time,
staying far enough behind and far enough back in the trees that he wouldn’t be
seen. He was watching, in order to evaluate Tom’s prowess.
 
The next week was largely silent on both sides, but the voting was being cast
that week and the following one, and the race the week after that, and as a
result, tensions were high. The two pointedly avoided one another for the
entire week, and people were starting to talk, some speculating that there was
a huge disagreement between them, and the more forthright students said it was
because they were fucking each other before and the competition got to be too
much and they fell out as a result.
 
In any case the speculations and rumours did not deter Tom, but he did start to
worry towards the end of the week, as time was running out. That Friday
evening, he went into the forest again, hoping to find Chris training there.
This time, he was. It surprised Tom to find him, after so many times not seeing
him. They met on the path and stared dumbly at one another for a few moments.
Chris was the first to break the silence.
“Is there any reason you keep coming here, expecting to see me? I thought you’d
thrown our friendship aside in favour of the race,” he said. Anger was evident
in his tone and expression.
“I didn’t-“
“Sure, you ‘forgot’, you ‘got distracted.’”
“Well, I thought you didn’t like me anymore,” Tom tried.
“I don’t, not anymore.” He sighed, searching for a way to express how he felt.
“I’m angry, Tom. Really angry.”
Tom took the few steps needed to fill the space between them and crushed his
lips to Chris’s. He grasped at his shirt, unbuttoning it, and moaned into his
mouth, trying to encourage him to respond.
Chris relaxed into it after a short time, weaving his hands in Tom’s hair and
before he could register what was happening, Chris bit down on his tongue hard.
Tom pulled away with a yelp.
“You bit me!”
“I did.” Chris smiled mischievously.
“Why?”
“Got to teach you a lesson somehow, don’t I?”
Tom appeared conflicted, but before he could reach a certain decision, Chris
had him by the neck and had pushed him against the nearest tree, winding him.
Chris then pressed his mouth to Tom’s ear, and told him:
“When you were looking for me, I was here the entire time. Every time.”
“What were you doing?”
“Watching you. I’ll admit, one time, I jerked myself off, and had to bite down
on my tongue so you wouldn’t hear me.”
“Oh my God,” Tom whispered. The admission sent a jolt of arousal straight to
his cock. Suddenly, he made a connection in his mind. “Can I ask..?”
“Shoot,” Chris answered, smirking.
“Why did you leave so quickly that day I was training?” Tom asked, panting.
“I had to leave. Seeing you run. It got me so hot,” Chris rasped, playing with
the hem of Tom’s shorts.
“Oh,” Tom responded. Suspicion confirmed. He saw an opportunity here, and took
it. “Tell me about it.”
Chris slid his hand down Tom’s shorts and got a generous handful ofhis arse. “I
went to the bathroom. The showers- God, you feel good.”
“Mmmm, tell me,” Tom hummed into Chris’s ear. “Tell me how it felt.”
Chris allowed his fingers to dance down further and started to tease Tom’s
opening.
“I finger-fucked myself,” Chris admitted. “I finger-fucked myself and I thought
of you, running, and how well you could fuckme.”
“Mmmh!”
“I came all over myself, just thinking of you. Good thing I was in the shower.
Even better that no-one else was there.” Tom shuddered, letting out a pathetic
little whimper. “Like that thought, huh?” Chris questioned, using the pad of
his index finger to play with the little pucker of nerves even more.
“I have – ngh – one last question.”
“And what’s that?”
“Are you ever gonna stop talking and just do me?”
Chris rumbled out “Jesus.”
He withdrew his hand and set about exposing as much of Tom’s skin as he
feasibly could, breaking a few buttons off his shirt in his hurry. Chris pushed
him against the tree harder and hoisted his slender legs around his own waist,
moving in for an aggressive kiss. Tom caught on immediately, wrapping his arms
around Chris’s neck, and began to roll his hips as best he could. He could feel
Chris’s hardness through his shorts, and gasped when his own pressed into the
other’s stomach.
Chris caught Tom’s bottom lip between his teeth and bit down none too lightly,
causing him to moan into Chris’s mouth. He then began to nibble at the
redhead’s delicious jawline, moving steadily downwards. He mouthed at Tom’s
collarbone, stopping now and then to suck dark marks into his fair skin, and
managed to pull the shirt aside to latch his teeth onto a pebbled nipple. Tom
let out a cry, arching his back.
Chris lifted his head and looked at him. The blue of his eyes was almost
completely engulfed by black arousal, his cheeks slightly pink.
“You seem to like biting,” Chris observed. Tom nodded halfheartedly, as if he
felt a certain guilt for admitting it. “You don’t need to feel bad about it. If
it feels good, do it.”
Chris then returned to Tom’s nipple, alternating between suckling and nibbling
on it, mirroring his actions with his hand on the other.
Some not-so-small part of Tom decided to take his advice, and he kicked his
shoes off - with a little bit of difficulty –
“What areyou doing?”
–and pushed Chris’s sweatpants down with his feet.
“That’s not going to work,” Chris teased.
“Oh, really? Put me down.”
Chris made no move to follow his orders.
“Put me down,” Tom breathed in his ear, “Or I’ll bite you. Hard, make you
bleed.” Chris paused for a moment, as if considering the sincerity of Tom’s
threat, before lowering him to the forest floor. Immediately, the redhead
dropped to his knees in front of Chris and pulled down his boxers, allowing his
swollen cock to spring free.
“Mmm, look at you,” Tom sighed, looking up at Chris, all doe-eyed and innocent-
looking. Except Chris knew he was anything but – if his reputation was anything
to go by.
“I could just eat you up,” he continued, unexpectedly taking the head of
Chris’s leaking cock into his warm, wet mouth. Chris fell back against the
tree, slipping out - ow those were his teeth, shit - and Tom moved forwards. He
didn’t even pause, instead swallowing Chris down in one movement, earning a
strangled moan that sent a few birds frantically flying out from the trees.
Tom began to suck Chris in earnest, swirling his tongue around the head – a
move that, in his experience, always rendered a man speechless. Or, if not
that, it earned very pleased noises. Chris threaded his hands through Tom’s
hair and guided him for a short while, then pushed him off. Tom looked up at
him, surprised. His lips were pink and slightly swollen already, cheeks
flushed, his hair all messed up. The sight was delicious.
“What?” Tom asked him.
“God, I wanna fuck you,” Chris answered. “Up.”
Tom stood and slid his arms around Chris’s waist, leaning in to kiss him
languidly. Chris allowed this, breaking away from him only for a moment to push
Tom’s shorts and boxers down, prompting him to step out of them, and while he
was doing that, Chris retrieved a pocket-sized bottle of lube from his shorts’
pocket – he had actually expected this to happen and was delighted that he had
thought ahead. He squeezed a small amount onto his fingers and spread it over
Tom’s hole. He moved back into the kiss while testing the waters with one
finger, pushing gently to see if Tom was ready - which he was, if his answering
groan was anything to go by. He took an index finger easily, so Chris added
another, scissoring them. Tom sighed at the stretch, soon asking for another.
Chris obliged. Soon even that wasn’t enough for him and he choked out: “I want
your cock inside me, please, Chris!”
He wasted no time in doing as Tom asked, turning him to face away, then pushing
him up against the tree. Chris quickly slicked himself up, and pressed the head
of his cock against Tom’s waiting hole. Tom moaned wantonly, nails tearing at
the bark of the tree.
“Fuck, now! Do it, you bastard!”
Chris laughed, the sound a rumble in his chest, and pushed in, although slower
than Tom wanted him to – just to tease him. He started to move languidly,
experimenting by shifting his weight a little every few thrusts. After trying a
few different angles, Chris found one that Tom reacted favourably to.
“There, there! There, yes!”
“Fuck… you like that?”
Chris could feel the coil of his orgasm building up slowly but surely, a
familiar burn in his thighs and groin. He had a couple of minutes left at this
rate, and he was determined to make Tom come before he did. Judging by the
obscene sounds he was making, that wouldn’t be too difficult.
He began to stroke the redhead’s cock in time with his thrusts, making him cry
out.
“Fuck, m’close, Chris…”
Chris took that as a cue to stop holding back and so he grabbed a handful of
Tom’s curls to hold him in the position he was in, using his hair as a hold to
fuck into him relentlessly.
Tom let out pitiful little whines as he neared his peak, pushing back against
Chris.
“I’m… I… Ah! Gonna….!”
Seconds after that, Tom came, painting stripes of come on the tree bark and on
Chris’s hand, keening loudly.
Chris fucked him through it, and then his own climax hit him hard, triggered by
the other’s inner walls rippling around him.
Tom felt like he was being utterly filled up by Chris’s seed deep inside him,
shuddering at the heat of it. When Chris finally pulled out he could feel it
trickling down his thighs.
Chris stepped back and marvelled at the sight before him; of Tom completely
fucked-out and dazed by his orgasm. He spotted the traces of come on his
thighs, and worried at his bottom lip with his teeth.
Tom wondered what Chris was doing, and began to turn around, but Chris ordered
him to stop and stay where he was. Tom froze in his tracks, and turned back to
face the tree, bracing himself on it.
“This won’t do,” Chris observed. “Look at the mess we’ve made of you.”
The next thing Tom knew, he was on his knees, actually licking his come away
from Tom’s body.
“Jesus, Chris. What are you-“
“Shhh, let me clean you up.”
Tom relaxed into the pliant tongue that seemed to be trying to work him open
all over again, sighing softly.
“Are you planning on fucking me again?”
“No, I’m not.”
Chris finished cleaning Tom up, and stood up. Tom collected his clothes and set
about putting them back on, as did Chris. Tom smoothed down his hair, and
laughed. Chris beckoned, and pressed his lips to Tom’s. They parted on
agreeable terms, both leaving the forest with a smile on their faces.
 
Three days later, Tom approached Chris at lunchbreak and asked him:
“What are we gonna do when the votes are counted and one of us doesn’t get
through?”
Chris considered Tom’s question for a moment.
“I’ll just have to fuck you harder than last time - as revenge for the fact
that I didn’t get through and you did. Or, maybe the other way round, depending
on how the votes turn out.” He winked.
Tom flushed scarlet at the idea, but a small part of him hoped that he would
get through and Chris would take out his frustration on him.
 
The votes had been counted, and against all the bets, Tom had gotten through
for the cross-country.
Later that day he was sitting on the benches outside thinking about what had
happened over the past week, and then someone was behind him, a familiar voice
growling in his ear.
“Meet me after training today. I’m gonna make good on my promise and fuck all
that pride right out of you.”
Tom shuddered. He couldn’t wait. 
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