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An Attempted TomTord
Everybody has their own problems. Whether it be alcoholism, sociopathy, student loans, or overdosing on memes, they are always present in your mind, even if just vaguely. This is prominent especially for a certain spiky-haired individual with a blue hoodie and checkered shoes.
Tom always had trouble sleeping, it’s part of his nature. But lately it’s damn near insomnia, and getting even a mere hour of sleep feels like a blessing. But it’s a blessing until you realize that it’s all you can get in the first place.
So here Tom is, lying atop his bed with a thin blanket loosely wrapped around his waist. So many questions plagued his mind, especially since a certain obnoxious red hoodied asshole came back. And of course, his main goal is to annoy and violate Tom. Typical. Tom lets out a long and dragged out sigh before turning over to his right side and completely collapsing on his bed, causing it to shake. He basks in the quietness for minutes, or hours, he doesn’t really know. Eventually, after a heavy debate in his mind, he racks his brain and decides to go downstairs to the living room. Maybe he’ll have a better chance of catching some Zs there.
Silently tip-toeing down the stairs, as if to not wake anyone up, (save for Tord). But the vague noise of the TV stops him in his tracks. Who could be up at this hour? No way Edd is up, the guy already has to deal with so many insane and random adventures, plus Matt. And Matt probably doesn’t even have the brain capacity to turn on the TV by himself. Which only leaves one possibility; Tord. Sighing to himself, he peeks around the corner into the basic living room, and just as he thought; he was correct. There the absurd Norwegian sat, leaning his left arm against the side of his futuristic couch and curled up, the soft light of the TV radiating off him. He looked so beautiful and at peace, just being able to be by himself for a bit. It was like he was a different person, like he wasn’t a perfect human being but just the same as any of them. For a lengthy millisecond, Tom wished he could hug the Norwegian asshole. Wait what? Upon comprehending that thought, Tom was suddenly uncomfortable even being in the vicinity of his adversary. He became flustered and began to debate trying to talk to Tord. However, Tord seemed to notice the empty-eyed silhouette shuffle at the end of the stairs and batted an eye at him. Despite this, he just shrugged and went back to whatever ridiculous TV show he was watching. Tom hurriedly walked over to the kitchen to get a bottle of Vodka, but not after giving Tord a sly look as he walked behind the couch and into the crispy-aired kitchen. He got his treasured bottle of _insert_ and just hardly picked up an audible huff from the seemingly horned silhouette on the couch, but rolled his eyes and ultimately ignored it... After retrieving the bottle, Tom made his way over to the couch and gestured for Tord to move his over. Upon looking at Tord, he suddenly got the urge to rest his head on Tords’ lap before catching himself immediately, incredibly alarmed. Why the hell-? Where the hell did that come from? Noticeably shaking the thought from his mind, Tom stretched himself out on the couch after Tord reluctantly moved his legs. The two sat there together, watching TV, just barely tolerating each other’s presence. They didn’t speak to each other, just occasionally snickered at the stupid ads they saw on the TV. Eventually, Tord got up to make something, assumedly popcorn, which became evident by the racket in the kitchen and popping in the microwave. As the popcorn was being tediously heated up, Tord waited in the kitchen, daydreaming (or at this hour, night dreaming?) while absent-mindedly staring at the random pieces of popcorn conspicuously popping. After a few minutes, Tom found himself missing the Norwegians’ presence beside him on the couch. He glanced over to Tord, then to the TV. A warm feeling suddenly started to bubble in his chest, catching him off guard. Though it was warm, it was not without anxiety. Tom just brushed it off and assume that he was slightly sick. After a bit longer, the dirty-blonde bi-lingual took a seat next to him, and Tom found himself being comforted by the other’s presence, though he would never admit it to anyone, hardly even himself. But it did feel nice. No one was around to disrupt them, and they didn’t have to put up an act. Even though they were both seemingly just tolerating each other, he basked in his barely-friends presence. Spontaneously, Tord spoke the first words either of them had said to each other that night. “Want some?”, Tord nonchalantly questioned. Somewhat startled by this question, Tom debated with himself in his mind for a second. ‘Is this asshole trying to trick me? I wouldn’t put it past him to lace some weird serum in there that would shrink all of my limbs or something’. But upon briefly examining Tord, there was a look on his face that he could hardly identify. He knew that it definitely didn’t match with the others’ usual behavior. It seemed like it was… kindness. Or something close to it. Fondness, maybe? But towards him? That was incredibly impossible. But even so, it seemed so… genuine. Tom seemed to have been debating for longer than he thought because he was suddenly snapped out of his thoughts as Tord spoke. “I’ll take that as a no.” Tord offered.
“Wait! I’ll have some” Tom said awkwardly after taking a long sip of vodka.
After Tom’s answer, Tord set the comically large bowl of popcorn between the two, propping it between two pillows so that it wouldn’t tip and fall.
The pair went back into an undisturbed silence, which they were both thankful for.
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After seemingly an hour of mindless TV watching, it became evident to both of them that Tom finally seemed to begin taking on the effects of the alcohol. It takes a bit longer now that he’s been drinking for so long and his body has built up a tolerance for it.
“Hey dude, why are you up down here so late?” Tord mused. “I thought you’d be passed out drunk or your bed or something.”
“Hey!” Tom said, but thought for a second before starting banter and offered, “Y’know what, that’s fair.”
“You still didn’t answer my question” Tord warily said as he looked at Tom, TV light flashing on his face.
A sliver of anxiety created a pit in Tom’s stomach
“I couldn’t sleep, happens to everyone”
“I don’t believe you, I mean you seem really tired every day, So tell me the truth”
With those words, the pit growing inside Tom’s stomach was about ready to burst. He needed to come up with a good lie, and fast. If he told Tord the truth, he would just use it as leverage for every insult directed towards him.
“I- I’m serious man, just leave me alo-” But before he could finish his sentence, Tord covered Tom’s mouth with his hand, with a good strength due to his military-like arms, but refraining from hurting Tom.
“I said, tell me the truth. I don’t want some dumb lie.”
They stayed like that, with Tord’s hand on Tom’s slightly chapped lips, (and Tom making a mental note of how soft Tord’s hands are) until Tom gave a slightly annoyed, but defeated look and nodded. With that, Tord removed his hand slowly and placed it on his leg.
“I just…” Tom sighed, “I think too much”
“Oh.”
Tord decided not to push any further because he knew exactly what he was talking about. Tord knew the feeling all too well himself. “Well, let’s see if we can catch some Zs now this way”
Tord pulled Tom close to him, wrapping him in his arms warmly. Tord wasn’t fond of any sort of physical touching, but Tom was different. No matter how much they bickered, he could trust Tom in the end. Tom was taken aback, but in the end didn’t jolt away. Instead, he felt the pit of anxiety welding in his stomach disappear, replaced by an immense warmth and comfort. A warmth that manifested in his stomach and reached his face in no time. He was overcome with a sense of comfort. He finally set the bottle of vodka he’d ben passing between his fingers down, which also contributed to the warmth, amplifying it. He hugged back, gripping the back of Tords’ sweatshirt, and feeling the way their bodies were softly pressing against one another. He nuzzled his face into the crook of Tord’s neck eventually, and Tord responded by entangling his fingers in Tom’s hair, playing with strands here and there. He discovered that Tom’s hair was really soft, unaffected by all of the products he uses in it. They stayed like that for none of them knew how long, until finally, Tom let out a loud yawn and gave the impression he needed to try to sleep. But before he could let Tom sleep, Tord swiftly pressed a kiss to the dirty-blondes’ lips. On instinct, Tom twitched in an idea to pull back, but instead returned the kiss, all the while deepening it. It wasn’t perfect like you’d see in some romantic movie, with their noses bumping and the taste of cheap alcohol and smoke. But that made it better, giving them both a sense of familiarity. Panting, they pulled away reluctantly, Tom spoke up. “I guess you don’t hate me anymore”
“Never did.” Tord retorted.
And with that, they finally decided to sleep. They spent a bit trying to find a comfortable position and eventually came to spooning. It was different to feel their soft, big hoodies pressed against one another, but a welcome feeling nonetheless. Tord wrapped his arms underneath his ‘friend’s’ arm and held him closely, listening as delicate rain began to thump against the window. They both knew that either Edd or Matt would find them in the morning, and ultimately tease them, but they couldn’t care less. All that existed right now was the gentle press of Tord’s stomach against Tom’s back. Listening to Tord’s soft breathing and feeling it on his neck, Tom drifted to sleep faster than he ever had before.