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Miles squints as the bright sunlight streams onto his face. He’s too hungover for this. He really should stop agreeing to do things for his friends when he’s three beers in, because the Miles from the next day always ends up suffering. He should’ve brought his sunglasses.
There’s people hustling and bustling around on set, and Miles is stood off to the side, curled in on himself because he had like two hours sleep and he has no idea what he’s meant to be doing. His whole plan is, if he just stays there as still as possible, then maybe no one will notice him and he won’t be asked to do anything.
Because he agreed to cover his friend Dylan’s job today, but he has no idea what Dylan actually does, and at this point, he’s too afraid to ask and his head is all fuzzy, he wouldn’t even know where to begin with trying to find out.
“Hey, you!”
Miles looks around to see if the random guy shouting his way is talking to someone else, but he’s unfortunately alone. “Me?” He asks, pointing at himself.
“Yeah, you.” The guy looks down at his clipboard and back up at Miles. “Dylan, right?”
He knows he should say yes, but his head is beginning to pound, and so he just says, “Uhh…”
“No matter. Go and warm him up.”
He has no idea what the fuck the guy is on about. “Uh, who?”
The guy looks at him like he’s a fucking idiot (which, fair) and points towards a gazebo-like tent where an older man is currently laying on the floor, shivering.
“O—Okay…”
Miles wanders over to the tent, wondering what the hell he’s meant to do. Warm him up? As soon as he gets close to the tent his nostrils flair and he feels something settle over him—a sense of comfort and the urge to protect—as he breathes in the scent of sweet lilacs. He’s so focused on the smell, that he misses the piles of thick blankets and the halogen heaters off to the side, walking straight past them.
He stumbles closer and gets on his hands and knees; crawling towards the guy and shifting close until he’s half-flumped over him, tall, gangly, pudgy body wrapped around him like a human blanket.
The man in his arms stops shaking violently to twist his neck and look back at him; intense confusion furrowing his brow. “What the—?”
“Is this okay?” Miles rushes to ask; hoping he’s actually helping the man get warm. He rubs his large hand up and down over the man’s front—from sternum to belly—hoping to encourage blood circulation, as he’s pretty much plastered to his back and side. “You look pretty cold and I’ll be honest I don’t know what I’m doing because I’m just covering for a friend, but he never really told me what his job entailed, but hopefully if I keep doing this you’ll warm up.” He doesn’t know what’s happened, but he know longer feels hungover, he just feels…focused, and like his inner Alpha has a purpose, but he doesn’t know what it is. Only that it’s linked to the man in his arms, who is no longer shivering quite so violently. “Fuck, you’re freezing. What were you doing to get this cold?”
“Hanging on the side of a plane.” The man says faintly. Which surely can’t be right? Is he going delusional? Fuck, is he getting hypothermia? “You’re hugging me.” He sounds shocked.
“Uh, yeah. Is that not okay?” Shit, was he meant to do something else? How else was he meant to warm him, when he was curled on the floor looking so soft and cold, and like Miles was meant to be hugging him. “I can do something else—”
“No!” The man almost shouts; shifting deeper into his embrace and letting out a sigh. “It’s fine. S’just… people usually just give me a blanket or two.”
Miles furrows his brow and looks around, spotting a pile of blankets; which look thick, but like they’d take a while to warm him up. “Don’t think a blanket will help. You’re like an ice pop.”
The man huffs out a soft laugh. “I feel like an ice pop. What’s your name anyway?”
“Oh. Miles.”
The man nods and turns to look at him again. “I’m Tom.” He says, warily.
Miles offers him a small smile of greeting, and waits for him to say something else. He watches as the man’s pretty, forest green eyes narrow in confusion when the quiet just stretches out, before they lighten up. At what, Miles has no idea, but he likes Tom’s smile. It’s all soft, and sincere, and sparkling, and like it’s just for him.
Which is odd, since they’ve just met and he doesn’t know anything but his name, and that he’s the most beautiful person Miles has ever seen. Miles thinks he might be an Omega, but he presented so late in life (aged 21, when most other people present between 15 and 17), that he really doesn’t know how to be an Alpha or how to recognise other designations. He’s just bumbling through life, a bit like what he was doing on set a little while ago.
His life seems to have become one big ‘fuck around and find out’ type of thing, and sometimes the finding out leads to not good things happening, like breaking his foot that one time, or vomiting all down himself that other time; but sometimes it leads to a pretty man in his arms.
“Nice to meet you, Tom.” He says, just because it feels like he should say it. It is nice to meet him.
“You don’t know who I am, do you?”
He blinks. “Should I? I know nothing about you except you’re really pretty, smell like nice soap, and I’m worried you’ll get hypothermia.”
He cringes, because clearly he’s still a little drunk, and his mouth is running away from him, but Tom just laughs and moves Bradley’s arm so he can use it as a pillow.
“I should be fine. You’re very warm.”
For some incomprehensible reason, Miles blushes. Which with his pale skin, means he just looks horrible and blotchy. Thank fuck, Tom is facing away from him. “Thanks. It’s my doughy body. Comes in handy for something, I guess.” He laughs, self-deprecatingly; his hand still smoothing over Tom’s chest and belly, as if instinctively. He frowns feeling the other man start to tremble harder in his arms, after he’d started to calm down. “You okay, Tom? You’re shivering. Are you getting colder?”
“No, no, I—uh—not many people touch me. Especially not Alphas.”
“Why?”
He hears Tom suck in a sharp breath, and his sweet lilac scent becomes stronger. Miles just breathes it in and purrs in delight. He didn’t know he could purr, but maybe the vibrations will help warm Tom some more.
“You—You really can’t tell?”
“Tell what?” He’s honestly so confused.
Before Tom can answer, Miles is being pulled off of him and thrown to the side; he lands with a grunt and looks up in confusion. “What—”
“Mr Cruise, we’re so sorry, are you okay?” A guy starts saying in a breathless rush; he’s got a headset and a fanny pack, so Miles assumes he works on the set. “We’ve just found out Dylan isn’t here, and we have no idea who this—this dumb idiot is or why he decided to assault you, but rest assured, it—and he—will be dealt with seriously and right away.”
Miles sits up and looks at Tom, because what? Assaulted? Had he done something wrong?
“No.” Tom says; sitting up in his rumpled suit, rubbing his hands over his arms and legs because he was obviously still fucking freezing, and this guy had pulled Miles off him.
The guy looks like he’s glitching. “I’m sorry?”
Tom looks at him seriously; green eyes hard. “Yes, you should be. Please apologise to Miles here, for insulting him and falsely accusing him of assaulting me. And then leave.”
“But—but you’re an unmated Omega, not on suppressants—” The guy is stammering, looking at Tom with disbelieving eyes. “—you shouldn’t be with an unmated Alpha, especially in such an intimate position.”
Miles gapes at Tom. He had no idea. Fuck, and he had practically stretched out on top of him. He hadn’t wanted to fuck Tom though. Well, part of him did, he was stunning, but it had been superseded by his desire to warm and protect him, so his cock hadn’t even twitched in his pants.
“You saying I can’t fend for myself, Aaron?” Oh, Tom knew the guy’s name. He was one of those people then. The deeply kind type of people who remembered things about you, but god help you if you crossed him. Like Aaron was finding out now. “You implying that I didn’t know this wasn’t Dylan my usual Warmer Grip? Because if I hadn’t wanted Miles here, do you think I’d have laid down with him?”
Aaron opens and closes his mouth, looking terrified and confused. “Uh… no?”
“Exactly. So…?” Tom looks at him pointedly and gestures in Miles’ direction.
“Sorry, uh, Miles. For calling you a dumb idiot and implying you assaulted Mr Cruise, here.”
“Umm…thanks.”
“I want all the files updated to have Miles as my personal Warmer Grip, and no one else. No one is to bother him, and if they have any questions or anything to say, they can speak to me, understood?”
Aaron looks at him like he’s gone mad and Miles isn’t sure he hasn’t because what the fuck? Does he have a permanent job now….as a hugger? Like he doesn’t mind, Tom is very huggable, but still. Not what he expected from the day. “R—Right away, Mr Cruise. Sorry, again.”
Tom nods. “We’re going to my trailer. I’ll be back out for the next scene in a couple of hours. Don’t let anyone disturb me, Aaron.”
Aaron nods and then scuttles away. Tom stumbles to his feet, and Miles is shooting up to help him without a second thought. “What are you doing? What did you just do, Tom?”
“Walking to my trailer with you.” Tom says, because he’s apparently a little shit too. “And just made you my personal space heater. Hope that’s okay?”
Miles swallows as they enter the trailer, door closing behind them. “I mean, yeah, it’s fine, but…do we need to discuss the whole—” He gestures in between them. “—unmated Omega not on suppressants, and unmated Alpha thing? Cos, like, I feel like I might have messed up somewhere, trying to hug you warm.”
“Do you want to fuck me, Miles?” Tom asks, in a no nonsense way.
He chokes out a laugh. “Not right now, no. I mean I’m really pretty worried about your core body temperature, and whilst you’re fucking hot, I don’t think a) it would be appropriate or helpful and b) that I have any chance with you.”
There’s that smile again. “Then we have nothing to worry about.”
“I’m confused.” Tom starts stripping off his clothes. “And now, I’m even more confused.”
“If you can control yourself and not pounce on me while I’m not able to regulate my scent and am more vulnerable to an Alpha’s presence because I’m so cold, and you were perfect before when we cuddled, so I believe you can, then I have nothing to worry about.” He’s stripped down to his boxers, and Miles doesn’t know where to look, so he just looks at Tom’s toes.
They’re cute toes. Tom can still wiggle them, so that’s good.
“Strip down too, please.”
He looks up at Tom’s request, and his eyes bug. “S—Strip?”
“To your underwear. Sharing body heat will be easier if we don’t have clothes in the way.
“Oh. Right.” He gets undressed and shuffles from foot to foot, very much conscious about how Tom is all muscles and gold skin, and he’s….not.
Tom moves towards the bed in his trailer and lays down under the covers; shifting so there’s space for Miles to join him. Miles climbs in tentatively, and huffs out a surprised breath when the older man immediately cuddles in close; this time facing Miles and tucking his face in the crook of his neck.
“You know I said not many people touch me?” Miles hums in response. “It’s because none of the Alphas on set can control themselves if they’re alone with me when I’m vulnerable like that. I believe your friend, Dylan, is a Beta, right?”
“Oh, Oh fuck. I’m sorry, I just barged in there and flumped down on you. I probably should’ve just given you a blanket and heater, shouldn’t I? Fuck.”
Tom shakes his head; his slightly crooked nose brushing against the vulnerable line of Miles’ throat. “I’m glad you didn’t. You just treated me like a regular person, no care of my designation or who I am in this industry, and only cared about me getting warm. Everyone else was so worried about how they’d react to me, I was left to lay there, unable to get any heat back in my body. Since cuddling you though, I’m no longer shivering and I can wiggle my toes.”
“They’re cute toes.” He says, before he can stop himself. He winces when he realises what he said.
Tom just laughs and squeezes him gently. “You’re better than any blankets and heater, Miles.”
“Thanks.” He sniffs and licks his lips nervously. “Do you really want me to stick around, longer than today, I mean?”
“I do.” Green eyes peer up at him. “You make me feel safe. And that’s not something I truly feel very often. Is that okay?”
Miles swallows and nods. “Yeah. I can think of worse ways to spend my time, than hanging out and hugging you. Just let me know if you ever don’t have need of me anymore, alright?”
Tom nods, and hums; snuggling into him.
Miles smooths his hand up and down the length of his spine, figuring a man like Tom who is obviously important in this industry, won’t need him around for long; he’s just happy to spend however long he can with him though, because he seems like a pretty interesting and adorable guy.
(Joke’s on him really, when he’s still there in ten years’ time; keeping Tom warm and being by his side, not just at work but in his personal life too. At least the guests at their wedding two years from now laughed when they found out he had no clue Tom was the biggest movie star in the world when they first met. (He’d spent a lot of his teenage years high and watching stupid comedies, okay?) Tom beamed with joy, and looked out of this world (and warm), so he’ll put up with being the butt of the joke, if it gets him Tom).
(He really should get around to sending Dylan a thank you present at some point though).
