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Summary
Tom knew he never wanted something as much as he wanted Tord. Nothing, no one else, came close. Drowning in that notion, he chased the taste of liquor on the other’s tongue. Eventually, his green digital eyes opened and he saw a rich, red brown eye burning into him. Branding him as his own.
With the sounds Tom made next, he’d been an audience of one with the enthusiasm of an entire crowd. To his delight and horror? That evening had only been the opener: the real show hadn’t even begun.
AKA the toxic Hurt/Comfort situationship INSTEAD of relationship, yet utterly-whipped-Future-Tom-for-Red-Leader fanfic I always wanted to write. Will change from Mature to Explicit eventually.
Bookmarked by fruitpunchfreaker
14 May 2026

