Chapter Text
"Wait, what? You're leaving us here. Together. For the entire weekend?" Tom stood in the middle of the living room, arms crossed and dark eyes wide with disbelief. His voice pitched higher than usual, teetering between shock and frustration.
"You gotta be kidding me." Tord, who had been lounging on the couch, slowly sat up, raising an eyebrow. His voice was calm, but there was a sharp edge beneath it. "You really expect us to survive a whole weekend without killing each other?"
Edd held up his hands defensively, backing toward the door, a guilty smile plastered on his face. "I'm really sorry, guys. But Matt got into this stupid modeling audition, and I need to drive him there. It's way out of town and it's a two-day thing so we have to stay overnight."
Tord's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing. "Well, that's just bloody perfect." he muttered under his breath. Then, he said louder. "At least put my grave one mile away from his."
Tom shot him a glare. "Don't be so dramatic. I'll just pretend you don't exist for the next 48 hours. Shouldn’t be that hard."
Tord let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through his hair. "Right. Because ignoring the problem always works for you, doesn't it?"
Tom's eyes flashed with frustration. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing." Tord shrugged, the smirk on his face betraying him. "Just saying, you're not exactly subtle when you're trying to avoid something-or someone."
Tom opened his mouth to retort, but Edd quickly stepped in, cutting off what was sure to be the start of another argument. "Guys, please. I really don't have time for this." His tone was pleading now. "Just… Make it through the weekend without tearing each other apart, okay? It's only two days."
Tord shrugged lazily, while Tom glared, arms still firmly crossed, but neither of them said a word.
"Edd, hurry up!" Matt shouted from the yard, losing his patience.
"Coming! Hey. I'll owe you guys big time for this." Edd added, almost stumbling out in his rush. "Just don't burn the house down, okay? We'll be back Sunday night."
As the door closed behind him, an uneasy silence filled the room. Tom and Tord looked at each other, the tension thickening with each second.
"So..." Tord drawled, breaking the silence with a sarcastic edge. "How do you wanna do this? Ignore each other for two days or start throwing punches now?"
Tom rolled his eyes, already regretting every second of the weekend ahead. "Just stay out of my way."
And with that, the uneasy truce began.
- - - - -
Tom sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the wall with a sigh, his flask dangling loosely from his hand. He took a slow sip, the familiar burn of alcohol sliding down his throat as the hum of his bass guitar, leaning against the corner of his room, beckoned him. He'd already plucked at it for an hour to pass the time, but nothing could distract him from the fact that Tord was just down the hall.
He checked the time. It was getting late, and his stomach growled. He knew Tord was probably still in his room, likely watching one of those weird anime shows he is obsessed with. With a groan, Tom finally stood up. He had to eat something, and as much as he’d like to pretend Tord didn't exist, it seemed inevitable they'd cross paths sooner or later.
Downstairs, the kitchen was dim, save for the warm glow from the light over the stove. Tom grabbed a frying pan from the cabinet, tossing it onto the burner with a loud clang. He rummaged through the fridge, pulling out some ingredients like eggs, cheese and some leftover veggies, then set about making himself a quick omelette.
The sound of footsteps behind him made him glance over his shoulder. Tord appeared in the doorway with his arms crossed and his expression as unreadable as ever.
"You're cooking?" Tord's voice broke the silence as he leaned casually against the doorway. He didn't move from his spot, just watching Tom cook with a lazy grin on his face. "Smells good. Whatcha making?"
Tom rolled his eyes, not even bothering to turn around. "Food."
Tord stepped into the kitchen, glancing over Tom's shoulder at the pan. "Omelette, huh? You're really treating yourself tonight, aren't you?"
Tom's jaw clenched slightly. He wasn't in the mood for Tord's teasing, but he wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of snapping, either. "Yep. And you're not getting any."
Tord's grin widened as he sauntered over to the counter, leaning against it. "Oh, come on. You're really gonna eat all that yourself?" He glanced over at the pile of ingredients Tom had set aside-plenty for more than just one person. "I'm starving! Edd's not here and I'm terrible at cooking. You wouldn’t leave a housemate to starve, would you?"
Tom flipped the omelette, deliberately ignoring him. "You've got two hands and a brain. Apparently. So you'll figure something out."
Tord put on a mock pout, his accent thickening as he exaggerated his words. "You really expect me to cook for myself? What if I burn the place down?"
Tom snorted, shaking his head. "I wouldn't be surprised if you tried."
Tord straightened up, crossing the kitchen to stand just a bit closer to Tom than necessary. He nudged the Brit's arm playfully. "Come on, make me one too. I'll even wash the dishes after."
Tom shot him a sideways glance, his irritation growing but mixed with something else-something about the way Tord was looking at him, with that smug grin, always pushing his buttons. "Why don't you just order takeout or something? Don't they have a special menu for annoying bastards?"
Tord laughed, clearly enjoying this too much. "Yeah, but that takes forever! And by then, I'll probably have fainted from hunger." he said dramaticly. "And you wouldn't want that on your conscience, would you?"
Tom paused for a second, his grip tightening on the spatula. He realized he won't get rid of his annoying housemate that easily. And fighting during Edd's absence is out of the question. "You're unbelievable, you know that?"
Tord leaned back against the counter, a satisfied look on his face. "So I've been told. Come on, I'll let you take the credit for saving my life~"
Tom grumbled under his breath, but there was something almost challenging in Tord’s tone that made him cave. He wanted to be mad, but Tord's ridiculous persistence was somehow… endearing. In an infuriating way.
"Fine." Tom muttered, turning back to the stove. "But only because I don't want to hear you whining for the rest of the night."
Tord's grin widened, but he held up his hands in mock surrender. "I knew you had a heart in there somewhere, Thomas."
Tom ignored him, grabbing a few more eggs from the fridge and cracking them into the bowl. "Just don’t get used to this."
They stayed in relative silence for a few minutes, the only sounds being the soft sizzle of the pan and the rhythmic clinking of utensils. Tord hovered near the counter, occasionally glancing over Tom's shoulder, though he kept his teasing to a minimum now that he'd gotten what he wanted.
After a while, Tom slid the last omelette onto a plate and shoved it toward Tord. "Here. Don't say I never did anything for you."
"Thanks~" Tord took the plate, his expression softening for a split second before he masked it with his usual smirk. He took a bite, then nodded approvingly. "Not bad. Could use more seasoning, though."
Tom rolled his eyes and sat down at the table with his own plate. They ate in silence for a few minutes, the tension in the air much less than usual but still present, as if neither of them wanted to acknowledge the strange calm.
After a moment Tord broke the silence "You know..." he said casually, twirling his fork. "I didn't think you'd actually agree to make me food. So considerate of you."
Tom paused mid-bite, finally glancing up at him. "Don't even start."
Tord leaned forward, eyes gleaming with mischief. "What? It’s a compliment. You know, you always pretend to be all tough and closed off, but deep down, you're not as cold as you want everyone to think. I mean, look at this-you made me dinner, and didn't even wish me to choke on it." he chuckled.
Tom stared at him for a moment, his annoyance bubbling just beneath the surface. But there was something about Tord's tone that wasn’t just teasing-it was almost… sincere.
Tom sighed, shaking his head. "Don't read too much into it, alright? It's just food."
Tord smirked, but the usual sharpness was gone. "Sure. Just food."
They continued eating in silence for a few minutes, the tension between them still there but more subdued. It wasn't exactly peace, but it was something close-an unspoken agreement to tolerate each other for the rest of the night. Or at least until the moment Tord attempted to dodge the promise of washing the dishes. But Tom was determined to ensure he followed through on his commitment, ready to hold him accountable for his earlier words.
This was how their first day passed. However, this was just the beginning of the events yet to come.