Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/7252036.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      No_Archive_Warnings_Apply, Underage
  Category:
      F/M, M/M, Multi
  Fandom:
      Tom_Hiddleston_-_Fandom, Chris_Hemsworth_-_Fandom
  Relationship:
      Chris_/_Eva, Chris_/_Tom, Chris_/_Eva_/_Tom, mention_of_Tom_/_Anja, Chris
      Hemsworth/Tom_Hiddleston, Tom_Hiddleston/Original_Female_Character(s)
  Character:
      Chem!Tom, Tom_Hiddleston, Chem!Chris, Chris_Hemsworth, Tom_Heyworth,
      Chris_Hemberley, Eva
  Additional Tags:
      Explicit_Sexual_Content, Explicit_Language, Polyamory, Threesome,
      Threesome_-_F/M/M, Deaf_Character, POV_Female_Character, Chem!Tom_and
      Chris_are_sluts, Large_Cock, Best_Friends, Naked_Cuddling, Het_and_Slash,
      Vaginal_Sex, two_guys_and_a_girl, Anal_Sex, Chemical_prehistory, brief
      mention_of_underage_sex, guy_doing_guy_doing_girl, Sharing, Open
      Relationships, Implied/Referenced_Underage_Relationship(s), Long-Term
      Relationship(s), Hiddlesworth, Thorki_-_Freeform, sorta_-_Freeform
  Series:
      Part 8 of Chemical_Prehistories
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-06-30 Words: 3471
****** Quiet Gods ******
by lokilickedme
Summary
     True love lingers whether you're near each other or not - but what
     happens when that love spreads out among three people instead of just
     two? Eva has loved Chris since they were kids, and when she comes
     back to town years later she finds her man still loves her, but...he
     loves someone else, too. What's a girl to do when her soulmate is
     attached at a deeper-than-souls level with his best friend?
     What do you THINK?
     A Chemical Prehistory told from Eva's point of view.
 
The funniest thing I've ever seen in my life was the big blond jock guy trying
to talk to me.  He was maybe fifteen but already huge, already cute as hell,
and already so full of himself that I wanted to just laugh at him and walk
away, but I'd been watching him all summer and there was something about him
that kept me looking.  He'd never made any attempt to communicate with me
before, and now I knew why.
He had a low tolerance for making a fool of himself.
But he was doing just that, and in spite of my deep and profound amusement at
his ridiculous attempts to figure out if I could hear him or not, I let him
continue.  It might have been my perverse need to see how stupid he could make
himself look, or maybe I just wanted to find out how badly he could
accidentally offend me before one of us got mad.  But after a few minutes of
watching the people around us wince as he raised his voice and made exaggerated
gestures, I finally, for some reason, let his silly ass off the hook.
"I can read you just fine, you don't have to yell.  And put your hands down,
that's not even close to signing."
I'll never forget the look on his face.  He actually took a step back, as if
the sound of my voice startled him.  He was looking around, checking to see how
many of his friends had seen, smiling sheepishly when he finally dared to look
at me again.  So cute.
"Sorry.  I didn't know you could...you know..."
"Talk?  Yeah, I can talk.  I'm just picky about who I talk to."
His smile widened a little, starting to look slightly more sincere.  He glanced
down at my hands, scowling a little as I signed along with my speaking.  It was
a habit, and I could tell it made him nervous because he obviously couldn't
read it.  "You want to walk home with me today?" he finally asked, those
deepset cornflower-blue eyes sparkling with a playful charm that made me feel a
little bit weak.  "Your house is just up the street from mine."
There it was - the smile had gone full blown and in that short moment between
smarmy and sweet I let my defenses down.  Not just down - kicked completely to
the curb.  I pretended to think about it, but I'd already made my mind up...he
could walk me anywhere he wanted, I'd happily follow just to get a good look at
that sexy backside.  But I didn't give him an answer until the last bell rang
and he came out of the gymnasium to find me waiting for him, holding my
backpack out for him to carry.
 
We were both turning sixteen that summer, and like all sixteen year olds, we
felt that odd pulling toward the opposite sex that often results in poorly
executed decisions and cringeworthy mistakes.  But none of it felt either
poorly executed or cringeworthy, and by the end of the summer we'd lost our
virginity to each other, first in my bed while my parents were at work and then
again in his.  The communication between us was still awkward, since I read
lips and he barely moved his mouth when he spoke, resulting in my frequent
frustration and his annoyance.  When I got mad I would start angrily shooting
sign language at him and he would stare at my hands, blank confusion in his
handsome face, till finally he would roll his eyes or shake his head and I
would flip him off and walk away.
But despite his inability to talk to me, we liked each other.  A lot.  So much
that when I told him at the end of summer that my family was moving to Seattle,
he actually got a little teary.  We had sex one more time at his place while
his mom was at work, and the day we left he walked down to my house to wave
goodbye.
I watched him from the back window of the car until we turned the corner and he
was gone.  I didn't think I'd ever see him again.
 
When I came back to San Diego ten years later, that big handsome boy was a huge
handsome man.
He was working in a pub called Tommy's.  The owner was his best friend, a tall
guy with long black hair and a face that looked like it belonged in a Paco
Rabanne ad.  Just fucking gorgeous, a bit of a slut but a truly nice guy who
would do anything in the world for anyone.  They were perfect opposites,
physically striking when they were apart but headturning when they were
together.  Where Chris was all bulk and muscle and broad face and golden hair
and a cute button nose, Tommy was long and lean and wiry, with high cheekbones
and a slightly bent nose that looked like it had been broken more than once, a
wide grin and long, sleek black hair.  He was half Cree but had sorta pale skin
and big blue eyes, just a really beautiful mix of features that might not have
been quite so attractive divided up on their own.  But all together, he was
gorgeous.  The ladies loved him.  Hell, the guys loved him too, he had that
slightly androgynous thing working for him that attracted everybody, regardless
of gender.  Chris caught me staring at him more than once and always shook his
head, shooting me a slightly disapproving little smile that said Not you too,
come on!  But I could tell he didn't really mind, and there was no jealousy in
that look.  He knew everybody loved Tommy.
It was more than obvioushe loved him, too. 
 
The first time I saw them interact behind the bar I knew there had been
something between them while I was gone.  It was obvious to me...I was a
natural observer, I had to be or I would miss everything as it went on around
me.  I could see it in the way they talked to each other, the way they
inhabited their own space and each other's.  It was like a delicately sensual
dance between lovers who really don't care if anyone knows about them, but it's
nobody's business but theirs.  Nobody else saw it, because they were both so
undeniably masculine, so hardcore male, that the underlying softness in their
eyes when they looked at each other went unnoticed.  But I noticed it.
I felt a sharp twinge of jealousy when I realized they'd been lovers.
But I didn't feel angry about it.  Tommy had the kind of face that, if you
looked at him long enough, you could see his history - every heartbreaking,
ugly moment of it.  Most people with telling faces like that spend their lives
not looking at anyone else, trying to keep from being read and discovered.  But
Tommy would look at you and never blink, never turn away, and if you could
stand it, he'd let you read for as long as you wanted or until you couldn't
take any more.  He didn't hide anything.  He also didn't talk a lot, but again,
if you knew how to read faces, it was all there anyway.  He didn't need to use
words.
I think he knew this about me.  I thought when he figured it out that he would
stop letting me read him, but he didn't - if anything, he opened himself up to
me even more, to the point where I understood what had gone on between him and
Chris.  Understood it and accepted it.  Which is why, after Tom demanded that
Chris learn sign language so that he could talk to me more efficiently and
therefore guaranteeing that he wouldn't strike out with me, I was quick to
agree to sleep with them both. 
 
I loved Chris - I'd never forgotten him when we moved away, thought about him
often, was excited that he was still in San Diego and unattached when I came
back.  But there was something between him and this tall, sweet faced boy that
some deep seated part of me wanted to see more of.  Something that I knew
they'd both outgrown during the years when I was away and they were together,
without anyone between them.  Something mildly perverse inside me wanted to be
between them, just once, in the most literal way possible.
So when I suggested it to Chris and he stared at my hands in confusion,
obviously thinking he'd misread what I'd just signed to him, I came right out
and said it on the assumption that he'd believe his ears.  But the words seemed
to shock him even more and his eyes went wide in disbelief.
"Come on, baby," I said as seductively as I could, though I'll be the first to
admit I never have any clue if I'm doing it right or if Chris is just humoring
me.  "Ask him, what could it hurt?  I know you still want him...I see the way
you look at him.  It's the same way you look at me."
He only looked sheepish for a moment before that sweet grin spread across his
face, his cheeks pinkening in the cutest blush I'd ever seen.  "He'll never
agree to it," he said, laughing nervously.  "He's got his life partner picked
out and he's slowing down his promiscuous streak."
"That girl he likes belongs to someone else.  The only way he'll get her is if
he gets hit by a bus."
"If who gets hit by a bus?"
Tom had come up beside Chris to get some glasses from under the bar and winked
at me, smiling that broad smile of his, the one that made everyone fall in love
with him.  Chris shook his head, pushing his elbow into Tom's ribs while he
gave me a condescending look.  He obviously thought what he was about to say
was going to earn a laugh or at least ayeah right.
"How would you feel about sleeping with me and Eva?"
Tom looked at him for a second before turning to me and signing What's he been
smoking? 

 
The boys closed the pub at quitting time, business as usual, saying goodnight
to the regulars and cleaning up the same as every other night.  But when the
lights went off and Chris took my hand to lead me to the door, he held his
other hand out to Tom.  No answer had been given yet to our invitation, and I
almost expected Tommy to shake his head and say goodnight to us.  But after a
long moment of just standing there, staring at Chris's extended hand, he
finally reached out and took it.


 
Tom moved up behind me, pressing his lips to the side of my neck as his hands
gripped my shoulders gently;  I could feel him against my back, stiff and solid
already, and I wanted so bad to look at him.  But Chris had started kissing his
way from my ear to my lips, pulling me down onto his lap as he sat down on the
edge of the bed.  Tom moved around us to climb onto the bed and I finally got a
good look at him - he was surprisingly well muscled, not big and bulky like
Chris, but that lithe sort of powerful strength that you'd never expect from
just seeing him with his clothes on.  The tattoos down the outside of his left
leg were a surprise as well.  They were inked in black mostly, tribal markings
and various images of a wolf stretching all the way from his ankle to his hip.
 It gave me a little bit of a shiver, seeing it, knowing this story written on
his skin had been hidden under his clothes ever since I'd known him and not
knowing what any of it meant.
But maybe the biggest surprise was the size of his cock.  Chris was big, bigger
than comfort allowed, if I'm strictly honest...but Tom was huge, thick and
long, and I felt my breath catch when I looked at him.  I wasn't here to get
fucked by him - what I really wanted was to just be with them while they did
each other - but once I got a good look at him I caught myself wondering if
Chris would let him put it in me.  Or if he would want to.
I knew Tom liked all kinds of girls.  I'd seen him leave the pub with so many,
every one of them different, none falling into any particular type that you
could identify as being his preference.  I knew he was straight, or at least
bi, or maybe a little bit pan...we all knew he had a transvestite friend that
for some reason he was strangely devoted to, and that besides all the women, he
and Chris were abnormally close for a couple of guys who weren't in a
relationship with each other.  I didn't really have much fear that he wouldn't
be turned on by me.  So when Chris nodded his approval and Tom started kissing
me, his big gentle hands sliding around my back to lay me down and climb on top
of me, I knew I wasn't going to have any regrets.
We were settling into a beautiful slow rhythm when he was suddenly much heavier
and I opened my eyes;  Chris had been holding my hand the whole time Tom made
love to me, but he had let go and I could see him above us, behind Tom, and the
look on Tom's face cleared up any confusion I had about what was happening.
 His mouth fell open and his eyes closed, and it was like looking up at an
angel in rapture.  He locked his elbows to hold his and Chris's weight off me
and while I knew it had to be a struggle, keeping his concentration focused on
fucking me while Chris fucked him, I swear his attention never left what he was
doing despite what was being done to him.
I think all three of us came at the same time.  I truly wished I could hear
them, their breathing and panting and whatever it was that they were saying to
each other, their words falling incomprehensible to my unhearing ears, their
lips unreadable as moans interrupted their words and kisses hid their mouths.
 But I could see their faces, and the sheer ecstasy I saw there spoke more than
loud enough for me to hear. 
 
Watching Chris fuck Tom was, and still is to this day, the hottest thing I've
ever seen in my life.  And when it was over and he dropped his head down next
to Tom's and his golden hair mixed with Tom's raven black, I thought no two
people had ever looked more right together.  I'm madly in love with Tom and
Anja as a couple now that they're together, but...seeing him with Chris did
something to me, something that left a mark.
These two didn't just have the hots for each other.  These two loved each
other.  And it wasn't a sexual love...that was just a part of it, a small part
that didn't even come close to touching on what was in their hearts.  Tom
didn't even seem all that interested in the sex, though he did warm up to it
once it got going.  But what woke him up was when Chris touched him.
My big strong man...always the biggest person in the room, menacing in that
quiet-strength sort of way that intimidates everyone without a word.  He was
always gentle with me, unfailingly tender even though he was undeniably
dominant, but even the soft touch he used on me paled in comparison to the way
he touched Tom.  And the way Tom responded, completely shedding the dominant
part of his own nature and letting Chris have complete control - it was like
watching a hornet morph into a dragonfly.
And all I could do was watch, dumbfounded and heartrendingly moved, as they
kissed. 
 
Tom lay next to me when it was over, his arm draped across my chest, his long
fingers stroking the side of my neck while he kissed my shoulder.  Chris was on
my other side, an arm and a leg stretched out over us both like a protective
guardian to watch over us while we slept, holding Tom's other hand above my
head.  I've never felt safer or more loved in my life, laying between these two
guys who loved each other more than either of them would ever love me.  But I
belonged to Chris and he would always keep me safe...and Tommy loved Chris, so
I knew I was special to him for that.
It was a nice place to be. 
 
It was only once, and it was never spoken of between any of us after that
night.  Tommy ended up with Anja and we became friends.  I never told her I'd
slept with him...I think she probably figured we'd done it at some point,
because Tommy slept around a lot before they got together - it was how he self
soothed, the only way he knew of to keep himself calm until years later when he
finally got a grip on his past.  In all honesty, she was probably the only
female that frequented his pub that he hadn't slept with during that time.  He
left other guys' girls alone, but once Sam was no longer in the picture, Anja
was his.
It was how it was meant to be, nobody ever doubted that. 
 
Throughout my life I've spent a lot of time watching people;  it's what I do,
the only way I can keep up with what's happening around me.  There's no noise
to catch my attention, no voices to listen to, no sound to clue me in to what's
going on.  So I watch, and without the clatter and clamor of the hearing world,
I'm able to pay attention better than most people.  I see things that most
would miss, distracted as they are with listening and hearing and sorting
through it all, their sensory processes constantly bombarded with
neverending noise.  But I'm blissfully unaffected by that.  I can read a
person's lips to get their words, but it's when you read a person's eyes that
you truly begin to understand who they are inside.  Words can tell you anything
the speaker wants you to hear, but eyes go straight past the lies and show you
what's inside.  Tommy's eyes revealed the truth about what he was, and I always
thought it was such a shame that everyone else was too distracted by the noise
of the world around him to see that truth.  Except Chris...Chris saw it, he
always had, probably discovering it in those silent moments between the two of
them when words were neither needed nor welcome.  Quiet moments when they
looked at each other and understood.  They saw it in each other, and the world
went silent around them when they looked in each other's eyes.  In those
moments, they were like me - hushed and observant, seeing it all without
distraction.
In those moments, they smiled at each other and knew that they were gods among
men. 
 
Tommy still winks at me when I come in, that sly little grin telling me that he
remembers it just as vividly as I do.  I know it means something to him.  He's
just like that...every experience is special, because he knows he's got no
earthly right to even still be alive, much less experiencing such beauty in
life.  He was tested almost from birth and he passed every trial he was forced
to walk through.  Chris's life hadn't been like that, but he'd taken it upon
himself to love this broken creature and walk with him through the fires of
hell until he came out the other side, a bit singed and smelling of smoke but
reveling in the thrill of having made it.  I always thought that was why
Tommy's hair was so black...it was soot from the smoke of all those raging
fires that had failed to kill him.  A sign of his indestructibility.  And then
Chris, a golden angel standing next to a blackened demon, holding a tight grip
onto one of the demon's shabby wings to keep him from soaring back into the
flames he'd risen from.  Two ethereal beings, feeding invincibility to each
other through a bond that could only be seen if you covered your ears and
stopped listening.
Because what else do angels who fall from heaven become, if not gods on earth?
 
 
 
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