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2022-06-25
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1/1
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Car Hook Hand Door

Summary:

this is a oneshot that i wanted to explore the dynamic of tord and edd

Notes:

gurgle

note: I say Norsk because im eastern european and we call norweigan ppl 'norskis'

Work Text:

Edd’s hand brushed over the cheap fabric of the tablecloth. There were three others who sat near him now, one more than usual. Tord had been gone for quite some time, as he had mandatory conscription in Norway. 

 

The air was thick. There were so many questions with no answers. The fabric of Tord’s hoodie stressed when he leaned forward to clear his throat, snagging the attention of his housemates. “I’m speechless, really,” he swallowed dryly. The norsk exchanged a look with Matt — the Brit to his right, and continued speaking, “Just not sure where to start. It’s been a long time. I feel disconnected.” 

 

“An unjust way to put it don’t you think.” Edd jutted his jaw forward, grinding his teeth in thought. 

 

The tone of his voice earned him a discontent glance from Tom, “If we’re all gonna live under the same roof it’ll be bloody hard to communicate if we don’t make a damn effort to understand each other.” 

 

“Tom’s right.” Matt chided, stretching his arms briefly. Edd couldn’t decipher whether this was him trying to weasel in some charm to diffuse a tense environment, or if he was actually stretching.

 

Did it really matter? 

 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” The man in green began, “I just.. now that you’re here it just feels like that’s it.” 

 

“That’s it?” Tord repeated, brows knitting in confusion. 

 

“You’ve missed out on a portion of our lives. Times we wish we could’ve shared. I can’t really map it out into words.” Edd thinned his lips. His expression said it all; constricted, dim, knotted and layered in stress. Similar to the way his stomach felt. 

 

“I had no choice. It took everything I had left to leave, but I kept my word. I’m here now, yeah?” The Norsk pried, his eyes weighing pounds of pity onto Edd’s back. 

 

His words pierced Edd’s skin like needles. Prickling and swelling his veins with harsh realities and uncomfortable truths. It wasn’t in his nature to be so open-ended with emotionally charged situations. Tord’s return from his mandatory service felt like it was unattainable. From the moment Tord bid farewell to the home, he left his housemates with no closure. 

 

No connection for three years. A period of time where every man became filled out. 

 

Tom had gathered his bearings; fulfilling a hobby he actually enjoyed and implementing it as his career. He does sound maintenance and the occasional gig at the pub around the block. It’s not ideal but it’s better than where he was; Misguided and unmotivated. 

 

Matt had become more focused on growth. Whether that be morally or strategically on the marketing side. Utilizing his assets, advertising and marketing had proved to be something he was a natural at. It provided him with the benefits of working at his own pace and allowing him time to maintain the social life he so desperately needed. 

 

With that left Edd. He took Tord’s departure the hardest. It set into motion a question of his own future. For a long time all he knew was the solidity of his friendships, Tord being an integral part of his every-day life. Late night chatter and early morning banter. It wasn’t anything special but not something Edd believed he could grow to miss. 

 

He cared for his friends but was slow to admit it. This process slowed his spark. Diffusing and exposing the wick to a gust of air that felt only destructive. Like a frail, useless candle.

 

“Apologies, but excuse me from the table. I need a moment.” His statement was terse. The kind of abruption that concerns those around you. 

 

Matt nodded solemnly. Tom sucked in a breath, presenting Edd with a warning look that read, ‘Get your shit together.’

 

A shift of wood against tile and the taller brunette was off. The only sound accommodating his leave was a stirring in the back of Tord’s throat. 

 

Nobody verbally protested Edd leaving, but Tom and Matt’s body language spoke instead. Tom’s head turned quickly to whisk his attention to Edd already trudging down the hallway, his own posture stiff as if it came as a huge shock. Matt’s eyebrows were raised, palms flat on the table as if he was ready to go and chase after him.

 

No use, really. Edd had grown pretty stubborn. A new peeve was that he didn’t like meaningless conversations. Or conversations that made him confront his feelings. 

 

“Oh, hell..” Matt huffed into the palm of his hand, resting his elbow on the table below.  

 

Tord didn’t spare a glance at Edd leaving, he knew he was gonna bail as soon as they all sat down. Matt was giving Tom a harsh look of disapproval. 

 

“You’re quite the prick. Do you know that?” He shot the insult directly toward the decrepit eyes of his mate in navy, drumming his fingers against the tabletop. 

 

Tord sucked his teeth, sneakers scuffing the floor as he adjusted to slouch in his seat. “Maybe it’s intentional. Penny for the scapegoat.” He remarked. 

 

“Scapegoat?” Tom attested, “I don’t know what’s gotten into him. Almost been too long for me to care.” He responded flatly.. 

 

“Plus,” Matt added, “I’m quite sure we hound Tom far more than Edd. His whole, ‘drinking is my personality’ is rather annoying.” 

 

“Y’know I haven’t touched a day-drink in months.” Tom cut in. 

 

It was noticeable, if one were keen enough to remember. Tord could recall the jaundiced expression of his estranged housemate. It felt like he was only living for others, not for himself. Neglecting his friend's advice for a plastic bottle of liquor. It was a nice change to see him improving. 

 

Neither of the answers Tord received completely satisfied him. With a puff of distress, he stood from his chair, “I’ve grazed barbed wire sharper than how he just spoke to me,” The Norsk pinched the bridge of his nose and breathed a bout of courage, “I’m here now. I’m not temporary anymore. I wish he’d recognize it,” he bitterly added before taking his leave to go venture down the hallway to find Edd. 

 

It’s not like he showed up unannounced. Infrequent calls were made between the Nordic man and his British counterparts, sparsely, but… they still took place. 

 

He wasn’t so sure as to why Edd was upset that he returned. A warmer welcome was expected. Open arms, a brisk pat on the shoulder, some few tears if everyone felt open enough, maybe. Rather than all of the pleasantries, Edd supplied Tord with the coldest greeting he’d felt in a while. 

 

‘Showing up here was half the battle, anyway.’ Tord assured himself. 

 

Sure. Being in the army did play a role in his maturity. Norway has not actively been involved in war for a hot minute: Experiencing the loss of a fallen brother in arms was still foreign to him. If anything Tord learned some decent discipline. He was far less impulsive and a lot more logistical. 

 

Could Edd notice that already? 

 

He shoved that thought out of his head. He was here to reunite with his friends. Not let them wallow about in their rooms. Tord knew Edd the longest out of the bunch regardless. He didn’t spare Edd the privilege of knocking on his bedroom door before clicking it open. 

 

“Edd?” His voice entered the room before his feet could. The taller brunette turned his head to Tord, preparing a breath. 

 

“I know. Sorry. I didn’t want to get so overwhelmed by the others.” Edd spoke. He sat on the edge of his bed. 

 

Tord could feel the guilt in his words. In an effort to give Edd some moments to form his next sentence, he glanced around the bedroom. The old posters, same sheets, miscellaneous clothes strewn about, it felt like nothing changed. 

 

The bed creaked as Edd stood, his hands fumbling with the hem of his pockets. Unsure of what to do with himself. 

 

“You know, it’s different when I see the others every day. I don’t notice the details. Like, how their posture becomes broad, how their voice changes… but I feel like I’m standing with a stranger.” Edd admitted, pulling a look of disarray from his friend. 

 

The man in red was a few inches shy of Edd. Physically, Tord had matured. He filled out his frame. Typically he was always the stick in the bunch. It wasn’t that he was muscular at all now— no, not at all — but he had a bit more meat on his bones than before. His chin was firm. Edd could spot some peach fuzz, acne he never grew out of, and some unremarkable scars. It seemed his hair remained nearly the same. Probably just a tad shorter for easy maintenance. 

 

“Still not a talker, huh?” Edd broke the silence with a weak grin. 

 

The corner of Tord’s mouth hooked in a grin of acknowledgement. 

 

He never did talk much. From what Edd could remember, his gratitude came in acts of kindness; Refilling the water pitcher when it was nearly empty, separating the group’s laundry, quietly picking up after others, or turning the lights off if someone fell asleep mid-day. 

 

Swelling of tears pried his thoughts away from the subject. Even thinking of him fondly stung as much as him leaving. No matter if he was here. His presence was everything and then some, but Edd didn’t feel as if he were in the moment. 

 

Maybe he didn’t have to say anything else. Tord stepped forward without speaking and let his hands push through the gaps between Edd’s arms and sides. With the weight of his head pressing to Edd’s shoulder and his embrace wrapped tightly beneath Edd’s arms, he spoke everything Edd needed to hear. 

 

It didn’t take long for the Brit to reciprocate. His nails etched crescents into the cotton red fabric of Tord’s back, cramping the space between them with the overdue act of care. He inhaled his scent, the faint notes of nervous sweat, antiperspirant, and fresh linen filled the nose he was sniffling out of. Tears grazed his cheeks with hot red streaks, peppering the spruce toned hair of the man below him. 

 

“I missed you buddy.” Edd croaked. 

 

Tord could feel Edd’s posture quiver with every syllable. He puffed a breath that harbored the same sentiment into the shoulder of the man he held. 

 

After a stuffy handful of minutes, Tord loosened his hold. Edd took the hint and let his arms drop, meeting his old friend eye-to-eye. Fresh tears misted Tord’s waterline. It took every fiber in Edd’s being not to let the waterworks spew on full blast. 

 

“Thank you. It means a lot to me,” the shrill cracking of Tord’s voice amid the silence almost startled Edd, “Being here and hearing your voice. Feels like a daze almost.” he added, pardoning himself as he sucked up the sadness pooling in his nose. 

 

A shaky breath of recognition accompanied Tord’s admission. “Of course. And while we’re on the topic.. we did have to make some adjustments to the home.” Edd averted his eyes to the door-frame, “Your room became sort of Matt’s personal bin for his… hobbies. As well as makeshift storage for the rest of us. I don’t mind sharing a bed until we can get it cleaned out and you set back up.” Edd offered, his eyebrows craning in remorse. 

 

Tord nodded, eyeing the beige sheets of his friend’s bed. “No worries.” He said as he wiped his leaky nose again. 

 

Edd refilled his seat from minutes before, extending his arm to offer up the other available space of the mattress. Tord sat two feet away, hunched over and feverishly bobbing his legs. A habit that didn’t seem to change, Edd noticed. 

 

“Just let me know if you need some time to yourself. Matt and Tom haven’t been getting along as well as they used to. Sometimes it’s better to avoid them altogether.” Edd thought aloud, knowing he’d have to fulfill the role of speaking. Tord still wasn’t a chatty guy. “I don’t mind if you crash here during the day or not. I don’t think you’d try anything wacky if I wasn’t here.” He jokingly suggested, earning a pity chuff from his friend. 

 

Tord took the stint in conversation for granted, plopping himself back on Edd’s mattress. Even the popcorn ceiling was still the same. He guessed they didn’t bother with renovations over the years.

 

“Dunno really what else to say.. I feel like I just cried all my feelings out.” Edd chuckled, his eyes aching still from the tears that he wept minutes before.

 

His friend chuffed some laughter at that. “Feels good to cry sometimes,” his voice was muffled, as he rolled on his side, back facing Edd. “Wears me out, though.” he chided.

 

“I can second that. But, I think I should apologize to the others for leaving so rudely. I’ll leave you to it, then.” Edd explained, carefully rising from the mattress. He spared Tord a glance. His friend was already taxed out in the bed, swallowing up Edd’s side, but he’ll let it slide for now. 

 

Seemed to Edd that he didn’t have to justify stepping out of the room. Tord was already asleep. It’d be easy to assume that the tender moment they shared was probably the first one either of them had experienced since Tord had left. With silent strides, Edd exited his room.

 

“I’m not sharin’ a bed. Call me crazy for not wanting a stranger in my room. Tord no less.” Tom crassly stated, twisting the cap off of a bottle of water. 

 

“Could’ve said it in a nicer way.” Matt corrected him, reaching forward to grab the small deck of cards between them. 

 

He raked his fingertip down the scaffolding of the cards, mindlessly shuffling them while Tom took a good gander around the kitchen. The lights were flickering. Whole place was a mess, practically falling apart. 

 

“You don’t think it’s weird how Edd was so put off by him comin’ back?” Tom curled his brow at the ginger at the other side of the table, taking a quick swig of his water, “I mean, come on. He’s never like that. You’re the one with the attitude.” he added. 

 

Matt didn’t look up from the deck of cards in his hands. “I’m not going to give you whatever bloody reaction you’re hoping for. Just be glad everyone’s in one good place again.” he responded dryly. 

 

“Sheesh. What crawled up your ass and died?” 

 

“Would you just shut up? All that comes from your mouth is just rubbish. You’re pissing me off.” Matt snapped, flitting his eyes at Tom. 

 

“You’re always pointing your fuckin’ finger at me! Acting like I’m trying to start shit! Look at you! You’re yapping your mouth off like I said the most horrid thing imaginable!” Tom shouted in his own defense, crudely slamming his water bottle down on the table. It was plastic, so ideally it didn’t send out the shock-wave that he intended. 

 

“Yeah. I am. ‘Cause you’re bloody annoying.” Matt retorted, dispersing the cards to himself and his friend. 

 

“Hah,” Tom puffed, “If you win this round I’ll let you have the good controller.” he suggested, collecting his stack of cards.

 

Yes, they didn’t get along well. But it wasn’t elementary anymore. Tom’s whole shtick was thriving off of reactions. If you didn’t feed into it, he didn’t get anything out of it. Matt never elicited a mere flinch whenever Tom raised his voice at him. Oddly enough, Matt’s resilience kept Tom coming around. Playing slap-jack with a dusty old deck of cards was good fun for both of them. Slapping your opponents hand, banging up the table, and causing a ruckus without doing real damage? A pretty ideal way to spend their time. Their evenings would wind up ending in a competitive three-player match of Mario Kart-- which always ended in a fight between Edd, Matt, and Tom. Edd would win. He’s the biggest out of the group, and Tom always got short-winded. Matt just didn’t care enough to press on.

 

“Any controller is good if I’ve got it.” Matt quipped, stretching his legs to relax beneath the table. 

 

“You just try to butt me off the track if you can. It’s just called playing dirty.” Tom remarked, reaching to screw the lid off of his water bottle again. He took a hefty sip, eyeing over at Edd walking into the room. 

 

Matt turned his head, his arm slung over the back of his chair, looking over at his friend in green. “Everything alright with you Edd?” he asked.

 

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. I didn’t mean to kill the mood. It’s just hard for me to, y'know, confront stuff.” Edd mumbled, taking the empty seat between his two friends.

 

“Whatever that means.” Tom blurted out, earning a quick elbow to his side from Edd, “Ahck! Damn!” He grunted, nearly spilling his water. 

 

“Ignore him. I think it’s good you’re feeling brighter, buddy. Is Tord settling in?” Matt asked, holding up a thin stack of cards to Edd, as if to offer him a playing spot. 

 

“Yes he is, and no thanks, I’ll pass on this game.” Edd smiled, raising his hand in politeness. “I figured I wouldn’t bother you two with trying to share one of your rooms. It’s better for him to crash in my bed until we clean out his old room.” he exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose.

 

“Relax, mate. You don’t have to worry yourself with everything at once.” Tom said with a pat of Edd’s shoulder. “As long as you’re not bent, i don’t think anyone here cares.”

 

Matt agreed with a shrug. Edd frowned, a bit off-put by Tom suggesting he was being a sissy about the whole thing, but it’s better to ignore that. Relaxing in his chair was a better alternative to addressing the two hot-headed Brits on either side of him. 

 

“Slap-Jack?” Edd asked, lazily admiring the old set of cards each of the men had stacked up and ready to go.

 

“Yeah. If he wins he gets the game cube controller. If I win, I dunno. Five bucks maybe.” Tom responded, readying his stack of cards.

 

“In your dreams. I’m not paying cash for a silly game of cards!” Matt chuckled, cracking his knuckles before setting up his stack. 

“Ready?” Tom asked, his arms already bent with anticipation.

 

“One,” Matt began, hunching over the table, “Two,” Tom’s breath hitched, “Three..” Matt edged, “Go!” He shouted.

 

The two Brits on opposing sides of the table slapped down a card with all of their might. The old piece of wooden furniture quaked with the aftershock of their strength, rattling above Edd’s knees.

 

Both cards weren’t jacks. Just stupid numbers, with stupid colors, and even stupider shapes.

 

“Shit!” Edd exhaled, startled by the sudden noise. “Can’t you play this on the carpet or something?” he suggested. 

 

“Quiet! We’re focusing!” Tom grumbled, readying himself for the next play.

 

Fits of quick slams, short barks of ‘GO!’ and infrequent table rattling left sore hands and sore-r losers. Matt ended the game as the victor, managing to slap away all of the Jacks that they presented on the table, as well as all of Tom’s dignity, too. 

 

And boy, did Tom loathe losing. 

 

“Bullshit!” The man in blue shouted, standing from his chair. “Wipe that bloody grin off your face! You slipped something in my drink to make me slower! Didn’t you! Huh? Huh! Say something, you idiot!” He screeched.

 

Edd stood up alongside him, holding Tom back with one arm almost as if this were a routine. “You’re going mad again.” Edd reminded him.

 

Matt did have a sly grin. How could he not have one? Tom baby-raged so easily in any game they played. So of course it made winning that much more worth it. 

 

“This game is stupid anyway.” Tom pouted, sitting back down in his seat with a disheveled puff. “I let you win. I felt bad for yelling at you earlier. So you’re welcome.” he sucked his teeth.

 

Earning a smile from Matt, his eye twitched in rage. “Aw mate, you’re so sweet. No need to cut me any slack.” Matt gleamed, winking at him.

 

“Gah! You’re going to make me go over there and strangle you!” Tom warned between clenched teeth, garnering another warning glance from Edd. 

 

“Maybe you should take a break from anything that has to do with competition.” Edd suggested plainly, scooping up Tom’s deck of messied cards.

 

“Yeah, fine. Only because I want to. Not because you said anything.” Tom responded, getting up for the second and final time. He snatched his water bottle from the counter and left the room with a sour attitude. Just as Matt predicted.

 

Tom heard the sound of running water come to a halt as he made his way down the hallway. With an irritated grunt, he drummed his knuckles against the bathroom door.

 

“Hurry up in there. I gotta take a leak.” He shouted.

 

The sound of shuffling met his ears as the door handle turned from the other side. Tord opened the door, the steam from his shower barraging Tom’s face just enough to make his nose scrunch up in annoyance. 

 

He was wearing a black undershirt and some lounge shorts. Nothing remarkable. Tom only cared enough to look at his legs, noticing they weren’t as scrawny as he remembered. Not like he looked at the guy when he was here so many years ago. Studying people’s looks isn't really on Tom’s agenda. 

 

“Is the… The gray towels’ yours, right?” Tord asked, earning a puzzled look from the man in blue.

 

“Uh, yeah? How’d you remember that-- Wait, why'd you bring it up?” Tom sputtered in response, waving away the humid air still wafting at him. 

 

The corners of Tord’s lips hooked into a conniving grin. “Thought so. I dried myself off with it.” He sneered, shoving the balled up, slightly damp gray towel into Tom’s chest. “Thanks for lending it to me, friend.” he remarked, purposely bumping past Tom on his way out of the bathroom.

 

“Ffh--! You prick..” Tom seethed between a tight jaw, grumbling a few more curses under his breath before making his way inside the washroom.

 

Tord was lucky that Tom didn’t just smother him to death with that damn towel right then and there. 

 

The wet-haired Norsk scratched the back of his scalp, wandering back into Edd’s room. It had been a while since he truly had time to himself. Existing in the military was draining enough. It felt like he was never an individual. Solely a group mindset. Working with his peers in mind and his comrade’s goals as his own. Having the opportunity to just sit in complete silence was great.

 

Well, except for the walls in this house being paper-thin. He could hear the unpleasant sounds of Tom pissing and muffling curses from the room over. Yeah. This is why he preferred his room down the hall a bit further in the first place. Boy, that’s going to be a huge plus once the others get that cleaned out. Tord stretched his arms above his head, rolling his head and his shoulders to feel that gratifying snap and pop his joints had to offer. Edd’s bed was nice. It was bigger, easily able to fit two people. Maybe three if you tried. Not that Edd probably ever had to make use of all that room.

 

He wondered if Edd ever had anyone else in here.

 

As weird as a thought it was, he and Edd never exchanged that kind of locker-room talk. Girls, first times, crushes, whatevers; unheard of in their friendship. It’s always been geeking out over the newest Hearthstone updates and Skyrim Mod suggestions. Tord had maybe a handful of experience with anything remotely above PG-13. The whole aspect of one night stands wasn’t something that sounded appealing to him. Why would he waste his time trying to nab some sort of phony achievement for seeing a pair of tits? He has google at his fingertips.

 

‘Why am I thinking about this so hard?’ He stifled a half-ass laugh at himself. Did he really care if his friend stuck his pecker in some bimbo? No, he didn’t. Imagining his big dorky oaf of a friend all flustered and nervous around a woman was funny. It’s a funny image to have. Right?

 

Right?

 

Better not to over-analyze it. He’s got loads of other things to think about, anyway. Scooting himself backward on his friend’s mattress, Tord looked to the bedroom door. Nobody was around. He’d heard Tom shuffle himself back into his own room moments ago. A stressed puff, and he laid back down on the bed. Would it be weird to share a bed with his friend he hadn’t seen in so long? What if Tord had no idea he was a monster sleep-cuddler? Wouldn’t it be creepy if they woke up too close?

 

‘I’m worried. Why am I worried?’ Tord concluded aloud, almost in a puff of laughter. He’d shot a gun before, seen a tank fire off a round, shit like that. Was sleeping next to his buddy of a few years really more nerve-wracking? It sounded like nothing compared to the constant routine of being in the military. 

 

Yet it demanded all of the same attention. What if he somehow fucked it all up? Jeopardized his friendship by lazily slinging a leg over Edd’s while they slept? Would he shove Tord off the bed? Call him a fairy or something? What’s the big idea? Why am I so scared? The thought boomed into his mind over and over again. 

 

The bed creaked as Edd turned to lay on his left side -- the side that faced Tord. However, his Norwegian friend refused to acknowledge this new position. Tord stiffly laid on his back. He studied every grain of the paint treatment on the ceiling. 

 

“Not used to sharing?” Edd piped up.

 

Tord’s lips thinned in hesitation. He was robbed of words. The thoughts in his head were scrambling around to make sense of what to reply with. 

 

“Ah.. no.” he admitted. A warm, prickling sensation of embarrassment crawled up the nape of his neck. It was shameful he was so reluctant to share just a small amount of space with a friend.

 

Edd was quiet for a few moments. Those moments were daunting. When he wasn’t filling the void with small talk, Edd was scanning Tord’s body language. Though the room was dark, yes, the beams of moonlight painted over Tord’s eyes were obvious. He was horrified.

 

“Buddy. You’re creeping me out.” Edd said flatly.

 

Tord bit down on the inside of his cheek. For half of a second he squeezed his eyes, turning onto his right side. Facing Edd.

 

“I don’t know how to sleep with other people. Sorry.” Tord explained with his face still frozen. His tone was monotonous, almost like he was trying not to sound so plainly uneasy.

 

“Okay well firstly don’t say it like that.” Edd jeered, earning a weak smile from his pal. “I’m not going to smite you if we end up touching legs or something. You can relax, you know. This is your house too.”

 

With a puff of relief, Tord just kept his attention devoted to the almond eyes of his friend. The silence felt comfortable. Edd could easily read what Tord’s look was saying.

 

He was thanking him.

 

“Stop over-thinking this. It’s no worry. Also, if you’re going to stay awake to be a worry-wart.. At least don’t stare at me while I try to sleep. Yeah?” the Brit’s voice pitched up in a charming bubble of laughter. 

 

He got the message, shifting around so his back was facing Edd’s front. Tord allowed the blankets to lay wrinkled over the bottom half of his waist. He didn’t care much for warmth. Ever since he went back to Norway it was like he was re-wired to crave the cold. The room was silent. Tord could only hear the stagnant breathing of his friend behind him. Just feeling his presence ricocheting from the fabric of his shirt to the paper of the walls. 

 

This was grounding. A definite space where he could let his guard down. There was no threat here. 

 

With his affirmations clouding his head, Tord drifted into sleep.