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Cuddling was a norm for Tord ever since his friends decided to help him. It was almost as if they knew exactly when to give him some kind of support. Deprecating thoughts? Matt was there to cheer him up with a hug. Crippling guilt? Edd would pop in and remind him that everyone forgave him and things were okay. Insomniac issues? Tom stays up with him so he’s not alone with his thoughts. Paul and Patryk even brought him food when he forgot to eat.
Everyone was so, nice , it was almost overwhelming.
Almost.
Tord really appreciated how much everyone cared, and for a sad sack like him nonetheless. He felt better, he looked better. Granted, he still thought of himself as shit, and had the sudden wave of crippling depression and anxiety come every few hours, but he was getting somewhere. Tord's destructive thoughts were gradually getting less destructive, and easier to ignore.
He was so thankful for his friends. Tord wanted to show them that in every way possible. He needed a way to say thank you.
So here he was, sat in the middle of his living room, jotting down lists of things he could do for them. Something, anything. Well maybe not anything , he had to draw the line somewhere. Then again, they had put up with a lot of his shit recently. So, yes, he'd do anything for them.
He had an idea.
----1
Paul walked down the corridor, arm linked with Patryk’s, who was carrying a bag of groceries in his other arm. As the two rounded the hall, turning to their apartment, they saw Tord frantically running into his room.
Patryk pulled out the room keys. “Should we check on him?”
“Yeah, but let's put this stuff down first.”
The two went into their room, shutting the door behind themselves. Paul flicked on the light switch and shuffled over to help Patryk with the groceries.
“Hey Paul?”
“Yeah?”
“Did you buy a model plane without telling me?”
Paul turned his head to look at Patryk, who was pointing to a small, toy plane, lying on the coffee table.
“Okay I think that probably wasn't me.”
Patryk frowned, and went to pick up the plane. The model itself was kind of heavy, and looked to be made of metal. Inside, there were two mini versions of Paul and Patryk in the cockpit.
It was adorable.
“Paul, look at this, it's got us inside.” Patryk called the other man over, and held up the plane for him to see.
“Well that's fucking brilliant. You think Tord built it?”
“I'll bet your entire pack of cigarettes on it.”
---2
Tom was having a pretty horrible day. When he woke up, Tom realized he left the fridge open and all the food was spoiled. Then, when he went out shopping he found out his favourite liquor store was closing. And now he had accidentally lost his flask.
Yeah, today was pretty shit.
Tom trudged into his apartment, ready to fall asleep on the couch due to high alcohol intake. He shut the door, than opted for falling face first on the couch. Moving a bit, Tom positioned himself so he was looking at the kitchen.
There was a checkered flask laying on the kitchen table next to a red note reading 'drink up -Tord’.
Generally, Tom didn't like surprises, but this was great. He bolted up, grabbing the flask eagerly. Taking a swig, Tom's eyes(??) widened at the contents.
Fuck yeah.
It was Smirnoff, Tord knew him well.
Tom grinned, and flopped onto the couch with the best goddamn thing he owned. Well, apart from Susan. And the harpoon gun. And alcohol in general. Okay so it made the top ten list, still pretty good if you asked him.
---3
Matt was a very heavy sleeper, as pointed out by him not hearing the sound of drills and hammers for about four hours last night. Matt slept in late as well. He needed his “beauty sleep”.
When he finally rose from his bed, it was about 10:30. Am. Not pm. No way in ASDF Land was he sleeping the day away, if he did that no one would get the glorious chance to see his face.
Matt pulled out a pack of Strawberry Poptarts and started munching, while sitting on one of the purple bean bag chairs in his apartment.
Hm, that was new. He didn't remember buying furniture. Then again, he didn't remember a lot of things.
Matt opened up another Poptart, and took a bite, eyes narrowing.
Something was different.
“Hmmmmmmmm. Giant wall mirror, what do you think changed?”
The *new* mirror that took up the entire rightmost wall didn't respond. As most inanimate objects do. Instead, the red sticky note saying “Thank You -Tord”, that had been stuck onto it fell on the floor.
“Yes, I agree, I do look good today.”
----4
Edd had woken up to the sound of his front door closing. Maybe someone stopped by? His friends were the only ones who had keys to his apartment, so that would make sense.
Except according to his alarm clock it was two in the morning.
Groaning, Edd got up to see what was going on. Entering the living room, he saw no one was there, but there was an ominous box in the corner.
Turning on a light, it was revealed that the box was actually the exact opposite of ominous. It was a Coca-Cola vending machine. Edd squealed, and grabbed some change from his room to see if it worked.
Edd went to put money in the machine, but instead a note taped to its surface caught his eye.
“Don't worry about paying, I rigged it to give out Cola for free. Call this number if you need it refilled. -Tord” Below the small message was a phone number.
Tord did this? Why?
Edd pondered for a moment before drawing a blank, so instead he pushed one of the Cola selection buttons. The machine whirred for a bit, before dispensing a Coke can into the pick up drawer.
Edd grabbed the can, and went back into his room to drink it. After the soda was finished, he went back to sleep, because he was reasonable and not a trigger-happy insomniac.
Cough cough. Tord. Cough cough.
---1
Edd and Matt responded to the crash first. They had been talking in the hallway, both conspiring about how Tord had somehow magically snuck into their apartments in the middle of the night, when a rather loud BANG followed by a “FAEN” rang through their ears. Both jumped, and looked down the hall, just in time to see Paul and Pat slam their rooms door open and clamber into the hall.
“What the fuck was that?” Patryk asked the group.
Tom came into the hallway before anyone could answer. “The name in hell is going on?”
He received four shrugs in response.
Edd gasped. “Tord’s the only one who’s not out here yet.”
“Well fuck if I'm not gonna find out what he's up to.” Tom said as he started towards the door, the others in tow.
The door to Tord's apartment was quickly pushed open, revealing a very frustrated Tord covered from head to toe in flour, picking a split open bag of said flour off the floor.
Tord grumbled to himself, before realizing there were five very concerned people standing in his doorway.
He face-palmed.
“Sorry for scaring you guys. Don't worry, everything’s okay.”
“What the actual fuck are you doing?” Paul asked stepping into the apartment. Patryk and the rest followed.
“Uh, baking, I think? I was um, trying to make cookies for- for you guys actually. I was using the chair to reach the flour, don't ask me how it got so high up on the shelf, and the chair fell over right as I grabbed the bag, and it may have exploded.”
Matt shrieked. “The flour exploded?!!! Are you hurt?? Were you burned?!”
Edd laughed. “Matt he's fine. Probably.” He turned to Tord. “Are you fine? You didn't hurt yourself did you? I can go get bandages-”
“I'm fine. No need to get worked up mor .”
Paul and Patryk snickered.
Tom, Matt, and Edd frowned, not getting the joke.
In the end, the group of six ended up cleaning the flour off of the floor successfully, although Tord continued to be covered in it, and made cookies with more or less issues. (Such issues consist of Matt mistaking salt for sugar, Tom trying to add Vodka to the batter, Edd successfully sneaking Cola into the cookie mix, and Paul dropping the bowl twice .)
At least they tasted good.