Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It had been approximately three days since the photo fiasco and every conversation since had been nothing less than ridiculously awkward. Tord explained how it had been an accident and that he didn't mean to send it and Tom all but shrugged and moved on saying 'It's not a big deal, Tord. I don't even care.'

However, Tom was making it a big deal. Every time they conversed, Tom would be stiff or cough uncomfortably or accidentally bring it up. It was tiring. Tord and Tom just discovered a newfound friendship(?) and it was already on thin ice, but now it was just painful.

Tord shook his head as he stepped out of the shower, droplets flying off and landing on the counter and mirror. He quickly dried his hair and tied the towel around his waist.

He's woken up late and was in a rush. It was 8:30, leaving Tord with only ten minutes to do his hair and get dressed. As he shuffled around his small apartment, Tord listened to the faint music playing from his phone. He vaguely recalled the artist but knew he had heard the song before. The chorus came back with gusto.

'I'm going back to 505

'If it's a seven-hour flight or a forty-five-minute drive

'In my imagination, you're waiting, lying on your side

'With your hands between your thighs'

Tord scurried around, going from the bathroom to his bedroom. He frantically brushed his teeth and pulled a sweater over his clothes with one hand. Quickly, Tord snatched his keys, phone, and wallet before taking one last look in the mirror. He did his best to not let his eyes gravitate towards the scars that pattered up and down his right side, but the sight was always so abrupt. So absurd and unusual that he couldn't help but look. Couldn't help but think; is that really me? Is that really what I look like?

Tord lightly tracked his nails down the hills and valleys of his scarred tissue, it was a strange sensation. He doesn't often touch that side of his body anymore, and it's not like anyone really touches him let alone his ugly scars.

Tord pried his eyes away from his reflection and grasped the cold doorknob before turning it and leaving, shouting a quick goodbye to Taco as he did.

His keys jingled senselessly in his pocket as he sprinted to the stairwell knowing full well the elevator would take far too long. He flipped over his phone and stole a glance at the time as he burst through the bottom door leading him to the parking lot.

8:38

Thank god.

Tord wildly pulled his keys from his pocket as he jogged to his little car, finger already hitting unlock as soon as they found the button. With a glance in the mirror and a fix of the hair, Tord buckled up and headed out, praying that he wouldn't be late.

For some magical reason, He only encountered one red light on his commute which had only lasted a minute or less. Tord tried to convince himself that he wasn't really speeding if every other car was also speeding, they were probably worried they'd be late for work as well.

He fast-walked with the energy of a-mom-on-a-jog to the elevator and slapped his floor, releasing a quiet sigh of relief when the elevator closed its doors and started ascending. The cheesy, acoustic elevator music played softly as Tord turned to take one last glance in a mirror before facing his colleagues.

His hair was only slightly not as horrendous as he previously thought it to be, but it still wasn't the best he could look. In an attempt to remedy his half-mad half-bedhead hair, Tord ran his fingers through the strands and smoothed down the unusual bumps. He then ran his hands repeatedly down his sweater in hopes of flattening any creases or bumps on the material, cursing under his breath when he realized he forgot a tie.

A (significantly louder than the music) ding interrupted Tord's grooming, announcing his arrival. He made his last-minute fixes before turning and heading to his desk when the doors opened.

As Tord plopped into his seat and booted-up his computer, he noticed the coat rack behind him had a handful of additional jackets hanging from it. It was embarrassing to know that he immediately distinguished Tom's coat from the rest, he had seen Tom wear it twice before.

Tord startled back to attention when he heard a knock on his desk. He looked up to find a pinkish Tom standing there, eyes anywhere but Tord.

"Hey," Tom muttered, his voice gravelly.

"Good morning." Tord smiled, trying his best to act like he hadn't accidentally sent this man an extremely embarrassing photo of himself just days before.

Tom brought his other hand up and slid a cup of ice coffee onto the desk, starless eyes still fixated on the picture from behind Tord. "I- uh, got this. For you. I didn't really know what you liked so I just got caramel because I remember you saying something about that so..."

Tord felt a genuine smile play with his mouth as he reached out for the drink. It was from the cafe he saw Tom at. The condensation ran over his fingers as he placed the cup on a coaster he kept by his pen holder.

"Thanks, that's really sweet of you." Tord rubbed down the side of his neck.

"I can pay you back once-"

"No," Tom interrupted a little too harshly, he cringed at his own voice after noticing the way Tord jumped in his seat slightly. "My treat. You don't need to pay me back."

Tord bit his lip and delicately reached out for the beverage. "Okay. Thank you, that was super nice." The paper straw tapped lightly against his bottom lip before he wrapped his mouth around it, sucking the drink into his mouth.

The sweet concoction was indeed caramel as he tasted a string float onto his tongue, giving the coffee a sugary flavor. He hummed contently before swallowing and setting the drink back on its coaster. He gave Tom another grin, "Thanks, it's really good!"

Tom, this time, met Tord's gaze. He smiled back at Tord as he uttered a small 'you're welcome' before drumming his fingers on the edge of the desk and leaving to his own.

{ - }

It had only been two hours into the day when Tord realized he had forgotten to take his Ritalin that morning. Richard (Tom was right, he was a huge dick) had asked him to make some copies of a certain client's legal documentation records with the company.

As Tord approached the clunky printer he racked his brain for the knowledge of how to use the said device only to come up blank. His thoughts ran dry as radio static-filled his ears. His feet mindlessly carried him to the printer and stopped when he was a foot away, the air conditioning felt incredibly stronger in this part of the office. The vague taps of fingers hitting keyboard sounded muffled to Tord as he stared down at the printer, dry eyes stinging from the crisp air.

Tord tried a second time to remember how to work the confound contraption in front of him, but once more was left clueless. His dull eyes flickered from button to button, the only sensation registering was the bright colors that dotted the machine.

Fuck...

An increasingly tumultuous matra chanted in his head like a defective vinyl; "How does it work? How does it work? How does it work? HOW DOES IT WORK?" His knuckles turned white as he stressed his fists, a ghostly energy washing over him.

Suddenly, he could no longer hear the incessant ticking of the plastic, monochrome clock that hung above the conference room. The delicate breaths of his colleagues and the repetitive clicking of console keys followed suit as Tord realized he could no longer hear any of his surroundings.

The walls of the room felt suffocatingly close despite being a meter away from him. A quick bead of sweat ran down his forehead as he stared at the printer, nothing registering.

He felt like time froze, trapping him in a desolate oasis of solitude that sat heavily in the air around him, pulling him to the ground as if he weighed nothing, attempting to have him sink straight down to earth's core and burn alive.

Tom.

Tom knew how to work the printer, right? He's worked here longer and knows how to navigate the office, right?

Tord needed to find Tom.

Tord quickly spun on his heels, the spontaneous movement nearly giving him whiplash. He briskly walked around the few desked that lead to Tom's. Once Tord saw Tom, he felt an absurdly foreign weight lift off his shoulders. He rolled his sore shoulders back as he strutted to the desk only stopping a foot away.

Tom was on the phone, his eyes were clamped shut and his index finger and thumb were pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. Tord could tell from the waver in his voice that Tom was trying his best not to lash out at whoever was at the opposite end of the line.

"Sir, it states very clearly in our agreement forms that we-... Mhmm. Sure, yeah. I'll see what I can do. Have a good day." Tom slammed his phone back on to its station. He frustratingly dragged a hand down his face and grumbled under his breath. Tord bit his lip, fearing that he stumbled upon a bad time and that was probably the last thing Tom needed after an aggravating call and he didn't want to soil their already tender friendship that had just started blooming so wonderfully. Shaking his head, Tord turned to leave but was too late as Tom spotted him.

"Tord. Hi, hey- um- what's up?" Tom questioned, hands pushing the clutter of his desk to the sides in an attempt to make his space appear more presentable.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to catch you at a bad time-"

Tom shook his head as he sucked in his lips, "Nope, nope! All good, I get frustrating calls all the time." He flippantly waved a hand in the air.

Tord grabbed his wrist behind his back and rocked on his heels uncomfortably. Tom seemed genuine enough, but Tord couldn't help but think that Tom just said that to be polite. He was probably annoyed that Tord was even here and asking him his dumb question was sure to get Tom even more pissed off.

Tord squeezed his eyes, "Nothing, I forget what- just never mind. Sorry, that was rude." Tord tried to keep his words short, fearing the longer he talked the more annoyed Tom would be in him.

"It was a stupid- a stupid question so I don't even know why I was coming over to- to bug you with it. I don't want to interrupt you with my dumb question, sorry. Just forget about it." Tord found a soft heat crawl up his neck as quickly became embarrassed. He stood there with his mouth open, but no words came out. He snapped his jaw shut and his teeth clacked together audibly.

Tom quirked a brow before giving him a goofy smile that almost wiped away all his doubt. "Alright, but you really aren't bugging me. You're actually the highlight of my day, especially when I get dumb-asses on the phone."

Tord smiled, he felt his dimples form on his cheeks as he did so. "Okie pokie. Well, I'll- I need to. Printer." He flailed his thumb behind him, gesturing in the general direction of the printer. Tom smiled and gave Tord a departing waving that looked more like a small air-five.

{ - }

It was nearly his lunch break when Tom was back at Tord's desk, drumming his index fingers lightly on the ridge as he examined Tord's space.

Tord rolled his eyes after a few minutes and looked up from his computer report. "Yes?"

Tom's hands froze as he grinned nervously, "Are you- your lunch break is coming up soon, right?"

Tord glanced at the time and nodded, "Yeah."

Tom's hands then became lifeless as they instantly fell to his sides, swatting his pantlegs on the way. "Do you wanna go out for lunch? With me?"

Tord's fingers froze over the keyboard he had be diligently typing on. Out for lunch, huh? Well, Tord was rather hungry and he didn't exactly have time to grab anything this morning. Going out for lunch didn't sound so bad.

After giving it some thought, Tord decided to hell with it. "Sure, why not. Did you have somewhere in mind?"

Tom stood, grinning like an idiot while looking at Tord, seemingly oblivious to Tord's question. Tord smiled uncomfortably at his gaze, shifting in his seat slightly as he scanned the room. The air conditioning felt like it picked up and a chill ran down Tord's spin. Perhaps it was a ghost. Tord didn't really believe in those kinds of things, ghosts and all, but at that moment he couldn't deny he had felt something stirring his mind and fluttering his stomach. Or perhaps this was a normal friend thing? It had been a while since Tord had any friends and he wasn't entirely sure what was considered normal or not.

"Tom? Hello?"

Tom shook his head lightly and pinched his eyes. "Sorry, what?"

Tord blew air out of his teeth and rolled his eyes playfully, "I asked if you had somewhere in mind?"

Tom furrowed his brows before jutting his bottom lip out and shaking his head, "No, not really. Anywhere you want to go?" Tord raised his eyebrows and blinked a few times as if his vision had anything to do with his hearing. Tom was acting... strange. Well, stranger than usual. Being all nice and chivalrous.

"I don't really know the area that well, you can pick." Tord decided while continuing to type on the keyboard. The clicking sounds of the keys were fast and tight together. The air conditioning kicked on above them and filtered through the room sending a chilling gust of air to Tord causing him to shiver.

Tom cocked his head slightly as he inspected Tord. With a faint grin, he walked over to the coat rack and gingerly picked up his coat. "Tord,"

Tord turned around and glanced up at Tom who was smiling down at him. "Hmm?"

Tom gently draped the coat over Tord's shoulders before taking a step closer and ruffling Tord's hair. A few strands blew astray and laid in front of Tord's eyes, blocking his view. Tord huffed defiantly and aimlessly swatted in the direction where Tom was only to find there be nothing but air as Tom had quickly spun around and headed back to his own desk.

A cheeky smile played on the tips of Tord's lips and he continued working, subconsciously checking the time more frequently.

{ - }

The asphalt was light and cracked beneath Tord's feet as he walked to his car.

The clouds were a dreadfully dull color as they blew above, wind whipping his hair around like a cotton candy machine. The tree's rustled in the breeze as they dropped leaves, letting the droplets of color swim around in circles till they hit the ground. It was early in fall for the leaves to drop but Tord didn't complain, the view was quite beautiful.

Tord wasn't exactly a foliage type of person, but he had to admit the clothes were hella comfy and the aesthetic was amazing. Though he had to admit the pumpkin spice was excessive (but he really couldn't say anything because he was a pumpkin spice bitch as well).

Tom's jacket hung from his shoulder, obviously too big for him, as he unlocked his car. As it turns out, Tom did have a car. Although looking at it logically, Tord was still shocked.

Tord always assumed the bikers just... kept biking through rain, sleet, hail, and snow. Biked to sophisticated places on the motorcycles and when they had a group of people he thought... maybe he was stupid but Tord honestly thought they all just.. pilled on top? Like that scene in that one Wallace and Gromit short where all the sheep made a sheep-human upside-down pyramid on the motorcycle.

"Just follow me, okay? It isn't too far, but you could still get lost!" Tom half-shouted from his own car, sandy hair softly blowing with the wind.

Tord salute, "Lead the way!"

Once Tord was situated, buckled up, and mirrors checked, he started the car. It buzzed to life and the dashboard lit up with its many, many glowing badges. It reminded Tord of those girl scout sashes that had all those patches on them. While Tord was a safe driver, he wasn't too keen on getting his car checked out or taking care of it.

Look, he has to take care of his dog and himself so lay off.

The drive was, as Tom said, short and his crowning achievement was not losing Tom when he followed. That man was so used to his motorcycle, Tord swore Tom forgot he was in a car and how different those two are.

The gravel crunched noisily under Tord's feet as he followed Tom into the building. It was old and showed a different type of architecture. Vines grew up the columns that were placed in patterns around the front porch. The windows were large but tinted and hard to see through. As Tord shrugged off Tom's coat, he read the sign next to the old, oak doors.

"Norse Brewery! Tom, I can't day drink! We still have to go back to work!" Tord rushed out, exasperated.

Tom smirked, "Oh, is it perhaps because you're a huge lightweight? Can't hold your liquor? Too-"

"Alright alright!" Tord huffed, the familiar heat of embarrassment crawling up his neck. "You don't have to keep talking, I get it."

Tom smiled before pushing the doors open and allowing Tord to enter first.

Whelp, this is going to be interesting.

{ - }

"But see, that's where you're wrong-"

"What?"

"No, no. Listen-"

"Pft, okay sure..."

"Shut up and listen to me." Tord took a deep breath before continuing slowly only to speed up at the end of his rant. "Sonic would obviously beat The Flash in a race because he's small and his shoes bring less traction. Less wind resistance and less friction, boom. Easy win against The Flash- stop laugh! I'm being serious!"

Tom's laughter flowed easily through the bar, but no one paid them any mind. The dim lights were warm and welcoming above the arguing pair.

"You can't honestly say that! Sonic against The Flash? He's a hedgehog. The Flash is human, longer legs equal bigger steps equal more distance covered in a single step- BOOM! Flash wins!"

Tord opened his mouth to disagree but was cut short by their waiter returning with their food. He carefully placed the bar appetizers in front of each party before heading off to retrieve a water jug. The conversation simmered until it ended, both boys too involved in their food to actively continue the argument.

After a short while of eating in silence, Tom cleared his throat as he dabbed his mouth with the napkin. He took an incredibly large sip of water before placing the glass back on its coaster.

"So... I don't really know how to do this, but um... Shit, I really don't know how to do this. Uh- I guess, just rip it off like a bandaid? You know, get it over with?" Tom timidly asked Tord who cocked his head to the side as he felt his eyebrow rise. Tord delicately reached for his water and started drinking, waiting for Tom to continue.

"Okay, uh- I... Well, I think you should see Edd and Matt again." Tord lurched forward at that, barely stopping himself from spitting his drink out and on to the table.

Tom theatrically whipped his face from the spit and water that dotted it as a half-hearted frown made its way to his lips.

"Listen, I know-"

Tord's mind frantically spun with scenarios, "Are you crazy! They probably hate me, you can't be serious! Oh, that's it! This must be a joke or something, right? You can't honestly think-"

"Woah, Woah Woah Woah. Calm down, cowboy. Look they don't... hate you-"

Tord bit his lip as Tom continued. Why listen when it was so obvious all his words were lies? Why hesitate unless it meant that they actually do hate Tord?

Couldn't really blame them though... Tord did blow up their house, socked Matt, hurt Edd and-

Oh God... didn't he kill-

No, definitely not. He should never show his disfigured face to those two ever again. It's the last thing they need. Besides, Tord knows they're better off without him. Lord knows everyone is. He makes everyone's lives so much harder.

Case and point, exhibit A; Thomas. No matter how smoothly their friendship seems to be going, he always screws up and pushed Tom overboard. He just can't get anyone to stay with him... Maybe Tord will die alone. It's always been a drifting thought he's had. Dying alone.

After all, who would love a beast like him? Don't people want someone attractive as their partner? In that regard, Tom would make a good partner. He was handsome and kind. Too kind for his own good.

Time has served Tom well. Despite it only being two or three years, he looked far more mature than Tord remembered. His jaw and chin looked more defined, same with his cheekbones. His thick eyebrows and gorgeous eyes exaggerated his expressions tenfold.

It was mesmerizing to just look at him, simply take in each and every little marking. The little cat scratches, the mole below the point of his jaw on the left side of his neck, the slice in his brow, the small happy lines by his eyes, the way his smile was so big and welcoming and warm.

Yes, he would make a great partner. Tord hoped that Tom's future partner, whomever it may be, is at least half the person Tom is.

"-worry. I know that It's hard for you, but I really think that this-"

Tom really is too kind for his own good. Spending all this time on a lost cause such as Tord, it was embarrassing. Tord curled his toes in his shoes, repeatedly bouncing a leg at lightning speed. The heel of his shoe tapped against the floor distractingly, however it seemed to help Tord ground himself. He knows he shouldn't float away from this conversation despite how desperately he desires to. Being in the clouds was like having an affair. He knows he shouldn't be doing it and he knows he should be down on Earth with Tom, but he can't stop himself from letting the fog set in the forest of his mind. Blurring any signs or logic that could surface.

The multiple ceiling fans buzzed above them though they seemed to be all-for-not. Tord was breaking out in a cold sweat seemingly for no reason.

Was it getting hotter and colder at the same time?

Must be this bar food. It isn't that good, but he wouldn't tell Tom that. He has no right to. Tom brought him here, he shouldn't start complaining after he dismissed his chance to pick a place. That's rude, and he's trying to be a better person.

"-ey. Hey!" Tom's long fingers snapped in front of Tord's face a few times as he brought his gaze back.

"Have you been listening at all? God, it's like I'm talking to a wall."

Tord's eyebrows furrowed as he allowed the comment to wash over him.

Tom must have seen Tord's face because as soon as the words left his mouth he furrowed his own brows. The air hung heavily with tension as Tord felt his eyes start to water involuntarily.

"Tord I'm- I didn't." Tom took a steadying breath, "Look-"

"Fine," Tord muttered, surrendering. Something he has the least experience in, but over the past few years has grown used to.

"Wh... what?"

Tord furiously rubs the back of his hand into his eyes, hoping to smudge the tears away before they could fall.

"I said fine. I'll go see them or whatever..."

Tom nodded as he delicately deposited his fork on the edge of his plate. His slender fingers brushed against the bone of Tord's wrist, warning him. When Tord didn't reject his touch, Tom wrapped his hand around the other's wrist and slowly pulled the hand away from the eyes of the other.

Tord felt a specific spot on his cheekbone flare up with pain and he winced. Tom's ever-diligent eyes studied Tord before finding the issues.

Tord, while lost in conquest, rubbed too ferociously at one of his poorly healed scars. His skin had the smallest reopening on the cut, but it served enough to make Tom concerned.

"Do you need a bandaid? I might have some in my car-"

"It burns, like, a lot." Tord interrupted, fanning his face.

Tom's camera-like eyes calculating their surroundings, but came back empty. He huffed before standing up.

"Come one. Let's clean you up in the bathroom."

Tord's ears filled with static as he nodded, walking in tandem with Tom.

{ - }

"Ouch," Tord jerked his head back only to hit the mirror behind him. He sat on the sink counter with Tom standing between his legs. The slightly wet surface was cool under his palms which were laid flat against the counter.

Tord rubbed the back of his head with a frown. Tom huffed a laugh before pulling Tord's head back in by grabbing his chin and pulling.

"Stop jerking away. It'll only take longer if you do," Tom states as he dabbed the water-soaked, wadded paper towels onto Tord's cut.

The water was icy cold, but Tord fought the urge to resist it again. He really didn't want to drag this on for longer than he needed. His mind was already preoccupied and he tried his hardest to distract himself from the shooting pain that stabbed at him.

Tom had run out to his car to grab his small medical kit earlier. The kit was a tiny, old pencil pouch that had been repurposed to a portable emergency bag. A ton of bandaids were shoved behind a strap, all different sizes, while a tiny tube of Neosporin laid at the bottom with some cotton balls and q-tips.

Despite its small size, the kit seemed to be reliable in minor accidents such as the one they had.

"Alright, do you want the... Mickey Mouse one or the... Peppa Pig one?" Tom asked as he inspected the bandaids he had that fit the size of the cut.

Tord groaned.

Great. Not only with he be returning to work after this catastrophe, but he'll be returning to work with a fucking themed bandaid on.

Tord lightly swung his legs in consideration, lips quirking to the side as he thought. "Definitely Peppa Pig, I have at least some class."

Tom snorted, shaking his head lightly as he ripped open the bandaid. He stripped the adhesive papers off before grabbing Tord's chin in his hand again.

Tom smoothed the bandage down on Tord's cheekbone, trying his best to avoid further aggravation of his skin.

"There, that ought to do it," Tom said, backing away slightly to view the spot in its entirety.

Tord pressed his lips into a thin line before huffing out a chilled breath. "Is it... I don't know. Hot? And cold- to you?" Tord manged as he gently shoved Tom back so he could stand back on the ground.

Tom scratched the side of his nose and looked at the dim lights above them. "Nah, I'm fine. Hot you said? Just take off my jacket."

Tord's eyes glanced quickly to his shoulder where, indeed, Tom's jacket sat. It was obviously a size or two bigger than him. Tord shrugged it off and shoved it back into Tom's hands before soundlessly stomping to the door, holding it open in an attempt to keep some manners in check.

Tom screwed his brows together as he walked back to their table as if he didn't understand what Tord's frustration was about. How could he? He doesn't have to this with this disgustingly fragile and delicate skin. Doesn't have to live with twenty things going on in his mind. Doesn't have to live with taking medication just to be normal. It’s ridiculous to even think Tom could understand. Tord's was just too different, not parallel to Tom in the slightest. Tord wasn’t as tall as Tom or as strong or as nice or-

This fucking temperature, what is it? Hot? Cold? The cooling rushes that swept over his heated body made his stomach churn uncomfortably. With a tense demeanor, Tord trudged back to his seat deciding to stick to water for the rest of lunch.

{ - }

The never-ending back-flips and summersaults his stomach performed lead to Tord sitting on his couch with a barf bucket, Taco whining in concern beside him. The tacky chihuahua made worry noises from his tiny throat and snuggled closer to Tord's thigh, resting his head to look up at his owner.

Tord sympathetically scratched the top of the small dogs head before dry heaving into the bucket again. It was fruitless, he already threw-up everything in his stomach the first two times. Now, all it did was send him into a fit of shivers and coughs while his throat burned from the stomach acid he occasionally spat out.

Moana was interrupted by a commercial on the TV in front of him, it advertised some kind of plumbing service but all Tord could think about was Tom.

Before he left the office, Tom gave him the most heart-wrenching look he'd ever seen on his face. He definitely didn't like that look of pity especially when it was directed at Tord. The two had walked out to the parking lot together discussing a night that they could hang out and meet up with Edd and Matt.

It was strange to talk about them together again, as a group. Tord had spent the past couple of years constantly thinking about being one with his old friends again but had always believed it'd never happen. To entertained the idea of making amends and being amicable again was uncharted and forbidden territory in the tight confines of Tord's mind.

He often let those thoughts starve; focused on feeding only the important one such as what’s to eat for tonight? Do I have enough money to eat tonight?

Thankfully he didn't need to ponder that question much anymore, thanks to Tom no less. However, without the jarring distraction of starvation at his fingertips Tord's mind was available for much more... unwanted thoughts about his life before. What it was, what could have been.

It was futile to get enraptured in his daydreams, but nonetheless amusing. How he missed their adventures. Oh boy, how Tord was going to miss his twenties.

It was no surprise that Tord enjoyed his birthdays however the past three had been substantially different. He was lonely, broke, and unhappy. The first year around, he couldn't exactly afford anything at the time of his birthday but once he had enough cash to blow he was out.

Now, Tord has done many things to warrant embarrassment but nothing compares to shopping for your own birthday. It was almost humiliating to window shop thinking if he would like something or not only to move on after looking at the price tag. No matter how embarrassed Tord felt he wouldn't take it back for the world. While looking among all the expensive stores, Tord happened upon a pound and immediately walked inside.

Taco, the ugly, little fatty that he is, was all alone in his cell. One look at that dopey looking tongue that peeked out from the dog's lips was all it took before Tord was heading home with him.

How could he resist? The dog was just so fat and adorable and lovable and-

Okay, he might be a little obsessed but could you blame him?

Moana popped back onto the screen in a flash, diving straight into another song after a decent chunk of dialogue. Tord hummed the tune with her as he tried to soothe his ever-persistent upset stomach.

Tom would sound good singing this.

Well, Tom would sound good singing anything, he was a singer. Textbook case performer; Tom was an enigma. A holy deity unworthy of this earth. The shining moon among a sea of darkness. A mother fucking God.

And Tord was just... Tord.

Textbook case loser; Tord was a nobody. A filthy mortal on the barren plane of existence. A flickering star drowning in a sea of black. A waste of space.

Tord shook his head, trying his hardest to avert his mind from the un-welcomed thoughts.

Point still stands, Tord really wants to hear Tom sing again. Only... how, in theory, does one go about asking that? How can someone as worthless as Tord possibly ask someone as spectacular as Tom to bless him with his magnificent gift?

Another wave of nausea forced Tord to spit bubbling saliva into the bucket on his lap, Moana still fucking singing.

"God, I really wish Tom were here," Tord stressed as he pats Taco on his side, circling in on his stomach in an attempt to subdue the pain.

{ - }

The rest of the week moved slowly as Tord floated through work, nauseated and cold-hot the whole time, and all too soon it was the weekend. A painfully free, absent-of-any-events weekend except for... the dinner.

At first, Tord was kind of happy to have the week fly by until he remembered the plans to eat diner with Tom, Edd, and Matt.

So with a hot-cold body, an acrobat in his stomach, and cotton as brains, Tord stared at himself in the full-length mirror that was propped against the wall, standing parallel from him on the floor. The fan above him rustled his hair lightly as the old bulb flickered behind his head, the stray strands that flew away from his head faded into the abyss of the light behind him. The crewneck Tord wore was big and droopy, such a strong contrast to the tight jeans he had tugged on. A gray, tweed hat was tucked over his caramel locks, gently pulling on some strands that were roughly concealed in his haste. He stared at the brown and black winter expedition boots that encased his feet.

Did he look stupid? He felt stupid.

A few black and yellow dots popped into his vision as his head began thumping, a wooziness coming over him like a tidal wave. Tord cracked his knuckles before forcefully turning away and making his way to the keys that sat on the coffee table expectantly.

The drive to Tom's seemed shorter than usual. Maybe it was the world's way of saying Fuck You! But hasn't that just been the past three years of his life? Tord rolls his eyes, shaking his fist angrily at the sky after he parked. The soft patter of rain was drawing closer with each minute and Tord supposed he should head inside to avoid getting rained on completely.

By the time Tord conjured up enough courage to actually get out of his car, the rain picked up violently. It came down in sharp droplets that freckled his clothes and skin. Tord huffed in frustration as he wrapped his arms over his head in hopes of shielding himself from the brutal downpour.

However, the rain seemed to have other plans. As soon as Tord began running to the stairwell doors, the drops came furiously down, hitting his back with precision and malice, and no sooner than he arrived at the stairs was he close to completely soaked.

Tord groaned and glared up the clouds. Fucking storm...

Tord pushed open the metal doors, anger still noticeable on his features, and began climbing the stairs. His wet shoes squeaked the whole way, drilling a permanent annoyance in his ears before the night even begun.

Tord's hand froze on the handle to the second floor. He squeezed his eyes shut and carded a hand through his (now wet) hair. He took a shaky breath in before dropping his hand and exhaling.

"Oh-kay, okay okay okay okay okay. Phew, I got this. I'll be fine, it's gonna be fine. Okay." Tord reassured himself though he didn't really believe his own words.

He pushed the handlebar open and swiftly walked past the empty boxes and condom wrappers and plastic utensils to Tom's apartment. The golden letters hung on the door, even with rust on the edges they were intimidating.

"Okay, alright. I'll be fine- this is fine. It will be fine." Tord breathed once more before he rose a shaky fist and knocked once. Twice. Three times.

Tord waited a second before raising his hand again. Just before his fist made contact with the door, Tom quickly threw it open. His cheeks were pink and his breath was heavy, his brows were furrowed and he looked upset.

Tord's fist dropped and swung helplessly by his side. His throat was sweating but his mouth felt so, so dry. A moment passed and Tom seemed to look over Tord again. His brows smoothed over as best they could and an exasperated smile graced his lips.

"Hey," Tom said breathlessly. He looked like he just ran a mile.

"Um, hi. Should I- are you okay?" Tord scratched the back of his head, hair still wet and dripping. Tom, the eccedentesiast he was, put on a smile and shook his head. The psithurism of the trees could be heard from the outside as well as a rhythmic thumping from somewhere down the hall.

Tom brought his arm up to rest on the door frame, his body laid against the framework. The color was coming back to his face and he appeared to be calming down. "Huh? Oh, oh yeah. No, I'm fine. We were just-?"

"We?" Tord question, slightly alarmed. He twisted his fingers in his hand, a few drops of water fell from his fingertips. Fucking rain...

Tom opened his mouth as if he was going to speak, but all he did was step to the side, non-verbally asking Tord in. Tord's shoes squeaked as he stepped inside, his eyes immediately catching on a head of dark hair next to a ginger in the living room. The TV was on and a cartoon flashed on the screen. Tord tried to swallow the frog in his throat as he turned back to Tom.

"Tom," He whispered. "I don't really- maybe this was- I think I should go." Tom gingerly gripped Tord's shoulder, big hands lightly massaging the tension that was building up.

"Hey- look. It'll be okay, you're gonna be just fine. I promise." Tom tilted his head in a sad attempt to be closer to Tord's height. His wet hair, clothes, and fingers were dripping on the tilt under his feet. Tom patted him on the shoulder before turning to grab a towel.

An obnoxious commercial came on the TV and Tord jerked his head over to watch. It looked like a candy ad but he wasn't sure. The two men in the living room didn't move from where Tord saw them last.

Tord clenched and unclenched his hands, feeling the water run down his fingertips and onto the tile with little splats.

The kitchens yellow light illuminated the slowly forming puddle around Tord's feet, his boots reflecting in the water. Different colors flashed from the living room on the side of Tord's face, but he didn't let his gaze gravitate over. He wasn't ready to look again, he just needs a little more time.

Tom's firm hand grabbed Tord's arm and twirled him around and as soon as he stopped spinning, he was being patted down by a towel.

"Honestly, would it kill you to bring an umbrella? Jesus, I swear sometimes you can be-" Tom's eyes flickered up to Tord's and he clamped his mouth shut. A flash of regret tinted his dark eyes before he stood up again, flopping the towel down on Tord's head after removing his hat and furiously rubbing away the water.

"Sorry, I'm just a little nervous. Right before you came in we were arguing. I didn't mean-"

Tord pinched up his nose as Tom fluffed his hair up, so much for looking presentable. Once Tom was done, he stepped back and left the towel on Tord's head. He chuckled before nudging Tord's side and walking towards the living room.

Oh boy, this was going to be a long night.

{ - }

The tension in the atmosphere was thick and heavy. It made Tord think it was foggy and humid in the apartment but upon further inspection, there were no signs of any abnormal weather activities inside the building.

The frog in his throat grew bigger and bigger throughout the night causing him to sufficiently lose his appetite. The clinking of water glasses and the scraping of forks on plates rang in his ears as he stared down at the plate in front of him.

Tom had made orange chicken with rice and green beans. It looked really fucking good and smelled even better, but somehow Tord knew if he took one bit he'd be hurling it up in seconds. His glass was filled up with sweet tea and ice cubes, though arguably more ice cubes than tea but it was neither this nor that. Tord watched the condensation roll down the side of the cup and onto the napkin-made-coaster below it. In retrospect, it was kind of useless to use a napkin in place of a coaster seeing that the water went straight through the sheet and down onto the table, but Tord wouldn't argue with Tom. Not when he gave him such a reassuring smile and passed him the flimsy paper with gentle hands.

The scraping of forks pulls Tord's eyes to Tom's hand, gravitating toward the noise. The silver fork rested in his loose grip. A thick vein traveled from Tom's forearm down to his finger. Silver rings glistened in the light and a wide, checkered bracelet wrapped around his left wrist.

Tord pinched his eyes shut and shook his head to snap himself out of his trace but immediately regretted it as the room started spinning and spinning and spinning.

Tord felt like he'd stumbled his way on to carousel and couldn't find his way off. Edd and Matt were quietly eating their food, only speaking when Tom asked a question but they spoke in curt responses and short quips. Tord's stomach flipped as he inhaled the smell of orange chicken again.

"Alright, what's wrong? Did I burn it or something?"

Tord looked up, finding Tom's eyes looking straight at him. Oh, he asked him that.

Tord's eyes glanced back down at the meal below him before he looked back up, eyelashes brushing the bone of his cheeks. "No, it's just- I'm. Sorry, I'll just..." Tord swiftly grasped his fork and stabbed a green bean and a piece of chicken with some rice. He shoved the fork into his mouth and pulled the food from the prongs.

His stomach sloshed and ached in protest but Tord just feigned a smiled and set down his fork. "Mmm, it's tastes really good. Since when did you stop burning down the kitchen when you cooked?" Tord jested, hoping to take his mind away from his stomach.

Tom's thick eyebrow rose in question, "Oh, getting ballsy, are we? Like your cooking was any better?"

Tord's nose pinched as the happy lines around his eyes creased, eyes dancing as the carousel slowed a little. "At least I could cooking something and not set it on fire."

"Oh ho-ho-ho, is that so? What's that I hear? Oh right, do fish tacos ring a bell?" Tom smirked as a hazy blush rose to Tord's cheeks.

"H-hey! That was not my fault! How was I supposed to know to take the wax paper out before putting it in the oven?"

"Uh, common senses? Wax vs. oven. Wax vs. Oven!"

"Oh, like you can talk! Mister Tinfoil-in-the-microwave."

This time it was Tom's turn to blush, the heat reached all the way to the tips of his ears and Tord felt like the anxiety of the night was washing away.

"Okay, but- uh... Matt! Matt put an entire family size bag of Doritos in the microwave!"

At the mention of his name, Matt sat up and glared playfully at Tom. "First of all, they were not family-sized. They were Matt sized. Second, don't bring me into this! Besides, Edd's the one who burned pasta."

Edd slammed his fork down and tried his best to scream over Matt's laughter. "IT HAPPENS TO EVERYONE!"

Tord cautiously joined in with his own fit of giggles after he saw Tom smirk.

Maybe tonight wouldn't be so bad?

{ - }

Tord was wrong... and right.

The night was filled with ups and downs. They laughed about their memories of cooking slip-ups, yelled about Tord being a shifty two-faced snake, cried about his first apology, and his second, and his third.

The dinner had ended with a dirty game of Cards Against Humanity, but Tord figured each game of Cards Against Humanity ended dirty.

Edd had left around 8:30, saying something about an early shift and checking up on Ringo. Matt had left around 9:15-ish, apparently also having an early shift. Tord discovered Matt had taken up being a part-time barista while applying for modeling agencies. It seemed to fit him well enough. Unfortunately, Tord didn't hear what job Edd had currently, but judging by his tone when discussing it he wasn't the biggest fan.

It was almost 10:30 now and Tord felt like he had sufficiently overstayed his welcome no matter how often Tom disagreed.

Tord clicked his tongue, "Alright, I think I should head out. Don't want to intrude."

"Oh, come off it. You're fine, please don't go?"

Tord stifles a smile and huffed deliberately, "Listen I should really go- Oh, Woah."

Tord stood quickly only to fall back down to the couch, head in his hands. Tom's eyebrows rose as he sat up and scooted to where Tord was seated. "Hey, what's up?"

Tord shook his head as he rubbed his palms into his eyes, swirls of color and bright stars flashed from behind his closed eyes but Tord rubbed anyhow.

"I... I don't know. I haven't been feeling great this week. My stomach feels weird and my head hurts and I feel hot and cold at the same time. Weird, huh?" Tord joked, pulling his hands away from his face to rest on his lap. He watched as his pinkie involuntarily twitched.

When he turned to look back over at Tom he was met with a concerned gaze. Tom's calculating eyes traced up and down Tord in an analytical gaze.

"Hmm, have you taken your temperature?" Tom gently placed his hand on Tord's thigh in concern. Tord's eyes followed his movement, lashes curtaining the top half of his vision. He felt the coolness from the rings even through his pants and the room suddenly became hotter, causing him to break into a cold sweat.

"Eh, no. Should I?"

Tom flicked his tongue out to wet his lips before standing and walking into his bathroom. He flipped open the tiny door on his medicine cabinet and shuffled around bottles and pills. "Probably,"

Tord screwed his lips to the side and stared at his socked feet. He had taken off his boots after he dried off the best he could, trying his best not to mess up the floor more than he already had. It reminded Tord of the night he had spent over here. At Tom's apartment.

It felt forever ago now, but in reality, it was only two or three weeks ago. It was one of the last times he and Tom had been able to spend time with each other, just them, and hang out. Work doesn't exactly count. It was really nice, even if Tord had a panic attack and cried a lot. Tom really was too nice for his own good.

Tord suddenly felt a harsh pain on his back when Tom returned, slapping Tord's shoulders roughly. "Alright, here. Let's see what's going on."

Tom sat half on the arm of the couch as he bent down to face Tord, body folding in half to do so. Tord shifted to allow Tom more room and turned to face his friend (friend?).

"M'kay, open up," Tom commanded, poking Tord's lips with the tip of the thermometer to accentuate his point. Tord arched his back, hearing a few cracks, before slouching again, complying to Tom by opening his mouth and lifting his tongue.

The thermometer felt cold in Tord's warm mouth but he tried his best not to think about that. The pair sat patiently for the results to come, only glancing at the TV when a particularly obnoxious commercial came on. Somewhere in the distance, Tord could hear the creaking of a bedframe hitting a wall but forced his mind away from Tom's rambunctious neighbors.

A soft beeping alerted the two that the thermometer was finished and Tom slowly pulled the tool out of Tord's mouth. Tord watched as Tom tilted his head down to read the numbers and saw his eyes widen.

"Dude, it says 106.5. You said all week you've been feeling like this?" Tom questioned, placing the thermometer on the coffee table before sinking down next to Tord and gingerly placing his hand on his co-worker's shoulder.

His firm grasp made a chill run down Tord's spine as he nodded.

"Yeah. I just- I guess I didn't want to miss any work..." Tord mumbled as he looked to the side.

He knew it was a lousy explanation and he knew Tom was going to be upset, but he honestly didn't have a better answer. The past week was fucking hell, hell in December. Flames everywhere but for some fucking reason, it was freezing enough to have a fucking snowstorm.

The patter of raindrops continued throughout the whole night and judging by the looks of the sky Tord was willing to bet a thunderstorm was to be expected. Well, at least it was finally the weekend.

So he had that going for him. Woohoo.

"Tord," Tom's tone was warning and Tord could already feel his concerned glare. "You can't do that. You need to rest and get some fucking medicine in you." Tom shoved Tord down to lay on the couch and stood to walk into his bathroom.

No sooner than he was in front of the medicine cabinet, Tom's phone started to ring. Tom didn't run over to pick it up so Tord let his shaky hand grasp it. He turned it over to see the name but just saw a bunch of emojis.

"Eh, Tom? Someone's-" Tord interrupted himself to cough once into his closed fist. "Someone is calling you?"

For a while, all Tord heard was the shuffling of boxes and pill filled bottles. Until-

"Who is it?"

Tord looked back at the large phone in his hand. Does he say each emoji or does he just say he doesn't know?

"Um, It's- I don't know It's just a bunch of emojis." Tord settled, delicately placing the phone back on the arm of the sofa by his head.

He heard the soft thumps of Tom's feet trailing back to him with hand open, seemingly holding some pills. "Oh, that's one of the boys. You know, from my band. Wait, did I tell you I'm in a band?" Tom asked as he carefully lifted Tord's head so he could sit down.

Tord hummed an affirmation and closed his eyes again when Tom laid his head onto his laps. Long fingers playing with the caramel strands of Tord's (now dry, thankfully) hair.

"Oh... well take these." Tom dropped three pills onto Tord's stomach before grabbing his phone and furiously typing on it after declining the call.

Tord picked up one of the pills with his thumb and index to inspect the medication Tom just threw at him. There were two Tylenol pills and an Advil gell.

"Can I take all of these?"

Tom's fingers hesitated as he looked down at the man below him. "What do you mean? I gave them to you, didn't I?"

Tord shook his head, "No, I mean. Can I take all of these, like, together? Like they won't mix bad or whatever?"

Tom yanked on Tord's hair a little too hard, "Nah, I think you're thinking of drinking and pills... Speaking of-" Tom released Tord's caramel strands and reached to the end of the coffee table where an unopened bottle of Smirnoff sat. How did Tord not see that?

"I thought you- stopped... drinking?" Tord asked cautiously. Tom snorted as he popped open the bottle using the attachment on the back of his phone case. He threw his head back before drinking at least a fourth of the thing. Tord watched Tom's adam's apple bob as he swallowed mouth-full after mouth-full. Tord pulled his gaze away and swallowed the pills in his hand.

"What made you think that? If anything, I started drinking more after you disappeared." Tom said bitterly as he glared at the TV, grip strong and knuckles white.

Tord furrowed his brows, "And now that I'm back?"

Tom's glazed flicked down to Tord's, his dark lashed fluttering like butterfly wings. "Well, I... I'm trying?" Tom dropped his free hand and carded his fingers back through Tord's hair and Tord hummed in response, a small smile on his lips.

"What did your friend want?"

"Huh?"

Tord grinned fondly as he closed his eyes, finding it a bit harder to keep them open. "The one that just called you, duh."

Tom twirled a lock of hair around his finger, "Oh, just stuff about songs and all that."

Tord grunted softly, shifting to his side slightly. "How'd you guys meet?"

"Eh, you know. At a bar," Tord grumbled something in Tom's shirt, and although Tom couldn't exactly hear the man's words he could still see the crease on his temple.

"Not like that. I was performing and they gave me a bill or so. We started talking about music then one thing led to another and here we are."

Tord smiled and shuffled closer to Tom. "That's nice. Do you guys get along?"

Tom yanked a little too harshly and Tord whined from the back of his throat. "Oh, sorry." He sighed before gentle petting Tord's head again. "I guess. I mean we argue, like, a lot but we generally get along. Besides, we argue about stupid things?"

"Oh, like who would win in a race if it were the Flash and Sonic when the obvious answer is Sonic? Yeah, that does seem pretty dumb." Tord quipped with a smirk. He heard Tom chuckle above him, chest shaking slightly.

"Oh, you little shit. Don't get me started on that again." Tom, despite his angered words, continued to gently comb through Tord's hair. The contact was cool but welcoming and Tord found himself leaning into it.

"Enlighten me."

"Oh, I'll enlighten the fuck out of you. First of all, Sonic is such a short fucking bitch, kind of like you, and the Flash is human. Like, long legs and shit. Second of all, sonic is a cartoon character. He's not even real-"

"They both aren't real."

"Sh, sh, sh! Tord, let me explain." Tom groaned.

Tord felt the ends of his mouth curl up as he reached a shaky hand up, blindly searching to find purchase on Tom. He grasped Tom's bicep and tugged it closer to him, bringing his legs up to curl in on himself slightly.

"I'm listening," Tord goaded, eyelids drooping with the temptation of sleep.

"Fine, fine! As I was saying-"

Tord closed his eyes experimentally and felt his body loosen up a bit, tension leaving his shoulders.

And suddenly-

Tord was walking on the edge of a cliff. No, not walking. Running. Tord was running dangerously closer to the air adjacent to the drop of the cliff. His feet hit the rocks under him in harsh hits, fists swinging on either side of him. He looked at the horizon and saw a sea of Spruce trees. Norway Spruce trees.

They were monstrous, which is saying a lot for a tree that grows to be almost forty to sixty feet tall. The trunks were thick and long, towering over Tord beside him as he ran.

Patches of snow decorated the ground and branches of the trees and mountains around him.

The clouds were light grey, but few and far apart. The sun was setting, casting a charming orange over the place Tord was at. Some clouds were pink while others were purple, but the scenic landscape didn't last long as Tord suddenly jumped off the cliff. Trees and clouds and mountains passed him as he continued falling and falling and falling.

The jagged ground was approaching fast, and Tord could only stare.

The trees below were getting closer and closer until-

Tord jostled upright to immediately bonk his head on something. A sharp clack and ow emitted from somewhere above him as Tord laid back down, hand rubbing the spot at the top of his head.

"Dude! What the hell was that for?" A frustrated voice asked above him. Tord's bewildered eyes looked up to find Tom with a hand massaging his, probably aching, jaw.

"Oh, Tom. I'm so sorry. I- well I fell asleep and was having a dream and I fell and... yeah."

Tom's hard gaze didn't lessen. "So you decided to pound my jaw with your head?"

"It was an accident!"

Tom huffed, his hand slowly releasing his jaw and coming back down to Tord's hair. "Is your head okay?"

Tord pinched his eyes shut and took a calming breath. "I- yes. It's fine. How's your jaw?"

Tom shrugged and lifted the now near-empty bottle of vodka to his lips. "It's alright." Instead of tilting his head back, Tom turned the bottle nearly upside down and waited till the rest was in his mouth. He audibly swallowed the rest and placed the empty bottle on a real coaster on the coffee table.

"... Sorry. I really didn't mean to do that."

"It's fine, Tord. Do you wanna sleep in my bed? It's kind of late and I don't want you out in that storm with the cold you have."

Tord sat up and furrowed his brows in confusion. "What storm?"

Just then a sharp flash of light decorated the room in a whitewash brilliance and a deafening BOOM! of thundered followed shortly after. The TV flickered to a black screen but quickly turned back on to South Park.

"Oh... sure. If it's not too much trouble?"

Tom shook his head, standing up before offering his hand to Tord which Tord gratefully took. "Nah, the bed's kinda big. I have room for you, don't worry. I wouldn't have offered it if I don't." Tom reassured, calming Tord's mind before it even had time to roam.

Tord stumbled backward when Tom let him go and nearly fell back onto the couch. Luckily, Tom grabbed Tord by his forearm before his back hit the cushions. "Jesus. Here, climb on."

Tom turned and squatted down, arms out to his sides in preparation. It took Tord a minute before he realized Tom was offering him a piggyback-ride. Tord snorted as a smile graced his lips. "Am I not too heavy for this?"

"Nope," Tom said, popping the 'p'. "Now get on." Tord made a face even though Tom couldn't see and approached the back tentatively.

Tord shrugged, throwing caution into the wind, and jumped on Tom's back. The taller grunted upon contact, but immediately straighten up and shuffled Tord into a better position before walking as if Tord weighed nothing.

Tom padded into the bathroom and flicked the light switch on. Tord rested his head on Tom's shoulder and watched as the other picked an unopened toothbrush from his medicine cabinet, thrusting the object into one of Tord's hands.

Tord sleepily giggled and began opening the packaging while Tom grabbed his own and tried to his hardest to squeeze the toothpaste on the bristles with one hand. Once successfully, Tom shoved the toothbrush into his mouth before grabbing Tord's (now opened) toothbrush and squeezing a drop onto it after running it under the faucet.

The two of them began brushing while staring at their reflection in the mirror. When Tord looked over and saw the dead-eyed look on Tom's face he tried his best not to laugh.

Tom quirked an eyebrow and slowly took the toothbrush from his mouth. "Wha?"

Tord snorted and immediately regretted it as he swallowed some of the toothpaste. His face must've shown what happened because Tom immediately started barking with laughter.

Tord feigned a hurt facade as he pounded a non-threatening fist on Tom's back. Tom slapped a hand over his mouth before calming down and spitting in the sink, running water over the toothbrush. The blue paste ran down in a small spiral before disappearing down the drain.

Tord lazily handed Tom his pink toothbrush and Tom rolled his eyes before repeating the action.

Before long, Tom carried Tord into his room and sat the other on his bed. Tord felt small on such a large surface and couldn't help but to compare the queen mattress to the double back at his place. Tom turned and dug through his draws sloppily.

"Here," Tom haphazardly threw a big shirt and some sweatpants at Tord. "Change before you get under the covers."

"Oh, alright. Thanks,"

"No problem." Tom pulled out a second pair of sweatpants before peeling off his shirt.

Tord stared at the broad shoulders and slightly toned stomach before him. How could Tom just... strip? Just like that. No problems. Probably because he doesn't have a disgusting body.

Tord lowered his head to stared at the white shirt and black pants in his lap. The shirt had a handful of huge, colorful mushrooms on the back and some stretched-out words that Tord's brain was too mushy to read. The Adidas sweatpants shouldn't be a problem considering they had a string, but the shirt looked really big and Tord could already tell that the neckline was going to fall off his shoulders.

Tord normally doesn't wear pants to bed, but they looked comfortable and he was feeling especially cold at the moment. So with a shrug and a fuck-it-all attitude, Tord tugged off his shirt and unbuttoned his pants, trying to shimmy them off without having to get off the bed.

Once his body was bare from clothes, Tord reached for the mushroom shirt that sat on the comforter where he left it. By mistake, his eyes flickered up to Tom to find the man already staring at him. Tord's hand froze where it gripped the shirt and he tilted his head up.

After a few seconds, Tord cleared his throat. "Yes?" He absolutely hated how small he sounded.

Tom blinked once. Twice. Three times before shaking his head and looking away. Tord felt the weight on his shoulders lessen. "Sorry, it's just... I did that?"

Tord felt the bed dip beside him and he figured Tom was sitting. Tord glanced down at his torso and looked at the scars that tracked up and down his right side. Tord closed his eyes, trying his hardest not to compare himself to a zebra. A fat, ugly zebra with stupid hair and a stupid voice and-

Okay, that's enough of that.

"I- yes... technically."

A cold finger on his scar jostled Tord's eyes open and snapped his head up. Tom quickly retracted his hand, "I- sorry. I shouldn't have-"

"No! I'm- It's okay. You can... I don't mind."

The moonlight from the window behind Tord cast Tom's face into swatches of dramatic shadows, but his eyes seemed to glow in the nearly dark room.

"Are you sure?" Tom whispered, voice gravelly from his volume.

Tord smiled fondly at Tom's concern, "Yeah, I'm sure."

Suddenly, the cold finger was back. But not just one, this time there was five. A hand. Tom's hand was on him. Tom's hand was on his scars and he wasn't pulling away.

Tom's cold fingers traced a particularly large scar with the most tender touch Tord ever felt. Tord felt himself involuntarily shivered from Tom's touch and his breath catch in his throat as he felt Tom's hand gently traced down past his chest, past his waist, and on to his thigh.

Tord couldn't recall when but Tom had removed his rings and bracelets. All that was left was a lonely black hairband that looked used one too many times.

"I'm... Tord, I'm so sorry." Tom's voice wavered slightly as the cool hand traveled back up to wait at Tord's waist. "I'm so, so s-horry." Tom choked out and it was only then that Tord realized Tom was crying.

Huh.

Tord can't remember the last time he saw Tom cry. It was... unnerving, but comforting all the same. He seemed a little more human, a little more mortal.

It wasn't until Tom's other hand came up to swipe at Tord's cheek that he realized he was crying too and-

They were hugging. Tom was hugging Tord, who was still practically naked, with no hesitation. Tom, who was crying, was hugging Tord, who was also crying and basically naked, in a dark room with the moon being their only nightlight.

Tom's choked breaths were muffled on Tord's shoulder while Tord cried silently, wet tears clumsily dropped from his cheek and down to Tom's arms.

"It's- Tom. Please stop c-rying. It's okay. I'm better now, see? B-hetter." Tord pulled away and lightly patted his chest as if to demonstrate his 'betterness'. Tom's black eyes look like a dark sea when they're glazed from tears.

The intense patter of rain was still beating harshly against the windows and the lightning flashed a few times, but Tord couldn't hear any thunder anymore so he assumed it was far off.

As Tom pulled himself together, whipping eyes with abandon, and shuffled further away till he was off the bed and standing on the floor again. Tord carefully pully the mushroom shirt over his head and wiggled the sweatpants on. He loosely tied the string around his hips before scooting up to the top of the bed.

Tom threw back the covers and crawled into bed, head hitting the pillow as soon as he stopped shifting around. Tord's cheeks had dried trails of tears running down them, but he shook away the feeling in favor of squirming under the sheets himself.

The bedding was cool but perfect for how naturally hot he was and considering he was wearing pants in bed for the first time in forever and was almost positive he was going to overheat.

Tom shuffled slightly and a soft illumination rose from his side along with a small ding emitted from Tom's side and Tord figured the other must've plugged in his phone for the night.

"Hey, I normally play music? When I'm sleeping, are you-"

Tord interrupted quickly, "I don't mind,"

Tom hummed in approval before swiping and clicking on his phone's screen rapidly, but soon enough a quiet tune filled the room. Tom had considerably turned down the volume and Tord could hear the familiar notes of Total Eclipse of the Heart by Bonnie Tyler begin.

The rain outside was still coming down in intense strides and he could hear the distant sound of thunderclaps if he strained his ears, but the sounds provided more white noise and atmosphere than any disturbance.

Tord felt completely content.

Trying his best not to let all the worries of his day (and week) keep him awake, Tord snuggled closer to his pillow and let the tempting lull of his eyes gently pull him into a dreary state. The dip in the bed beside him was cold and Tord could already feel himself start to overheat but all he had the capacity to do was close his lids as Bonnie Tyler sung to him.

"And I need you now tonight

"And I need you more than ever

"And if you only hold me tight

"We'll be holding on forever"