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Tord always had a certain thirst for Thomas. He thought he wanted anything out of him, as long as he was talked to and touched; whether that be starting fights, or nudging him harshly with his elbow as they passed each other in the hallway... That was his form of expressing the pining he felt, too shy to show the sweet, gooey side of himself.
As infatuated as he was, deep down, he was convinced Tom didn't feel the same. And so, he never made a noticeable effort to be nicer.
Tom, on the other hand, had always crushed hard on that poor man. Ever since they'd first met as children, and even throughout high school, he pined deeply for him. Sure, he fantasized filthy things about Tord on some days, but he wanted nothing more than to steal Tord's heart. Behind that cold glare and the sex appeal, he was merely a softie who just wanted love and affection.
Tord remembered excitement bubbling up in his chest when Tom agreed and shook his hand. Though, thinking long and hard about the idea for a millionth time, he realized more and more how much it'd hurt if he let it. He'd remembered the rules they'd listed for when they had sex; no affection, no eye contact, and no attachment. One wasn't allowed to stay in the other's room after, and they had to be alone in the house.
While Tord was glad the physical fights would slow to a stop from that, it just wasn't enough. He'd only given those rules out of fear of rejection, and it stung bad. So, very bad.
Tom felt a pit in his stomach from disappointment when those rules were listed. While at the time he'd much rather screw than destroy house items from the violence, he had known his pining for Tord would get worse. Not even sex would earn a kiss, or a hug, or a passing glance. He knew damn well doing this would hurt. Though, even after hours of deep thought after that fateful handshake, he figured it was for the best.
It'd been the early morning after their roughest night yet. They'd done it in Tom's room while Edd and Matt were gone for their usual night-shift, and Tord had absolutely no strength to get back into his room after it was over. Just one broken rule wouldn't hurt, right?
Right? Tord couldn't help but keep thinking once he woke up, face still in Tom's pillow. He didn't have the strength to pry his face away. He was exhausted, and he'd always loved the scent of Tom's cheap cologne. That cheap fucker, he thought as he sniffled and caught the scent, unable to help but melt ever-so slightly.
Tom had still been conked out by then, stark-naked with only a thin sheet covering his lower half. Even he was too exhausted to kick Tord out afterwards. He snored quietly and drooled, shifting just a little in his sleep.
Tord turned his head just a little to look at Tom, feeling that same pit in his stomach since it all began. He wished they'd done more. All the rough sex just felt worthless, now. Absolutely pointless. No immense pleasure would feel better than having the love he wanted. He was finally starting to accept that it was simply how he felt.
Feeling worse and worse, he pushed himself to sit up, hips hurting far too much. He reached down and grabbed his crimson boxers from the floor and put them on. He needed a distraction.
Tom jolted awake to the sound of his bedroom door slamming shut, eyes barely open as he sat up a little and looked over at it. He caught the smallest glimpse of Tord's shadow passing his door, sighing as he slowly laid his head back down. He knew damn well that he'd be getting drunk to forget last night.
Knowing Tord had nowhere to go for the day, Tom decided to just shower. Then make breakfast, then drink, and nap... He wanted time to sulk. He needed it. Anything at all to avoid Tord's company while he drowned in intense thoughts.
He made breakfast for all four of them, even while Edd and Matt worked. He knew they'd go hungry from not wanting to cook dinner. He then grabbed a bottle of alcohol, and went straight to his room. He knew it wouldn't end very well, but it was worth it if it meant forgetting.
Tord was awoken from napping abruptly at the sound of banging and things being shattered. He wanted to just curl up and cover his ears with a pillow, though the fateful sound of a fist against the wall and a scream-cry made him jolt up. What in the ever-loving fuck? He couldn't help but think as he stood up, reluctantly going out to check on Tom.
Tom was hardly even tipsy, snapping and breaking down before the alcohol could kick in. He was angry, and felt worthless. How couldn't he? Gripping his hurting head after accidentally banging it against the wall, he trembled intensely and threw a quarter-empty Smirnoff bottle at the wall, it shattering on impact. He'd have quite the mess to clean up.
"Fffuck! Fuck you!!" He slurred in a cry, dropping to his knees and letting his upper-half lay against the bed face-down, crying into his arms and gripping at his hair. "I hate you!" He panted, wincing in pain once he felt tiny shards of glass digging into his knees. His trembling calmed just a little, unable to yell anymore and feeling himself slowly go limp with exhaustion. I hate this. I fucking hate it. He thought to himself, breaths growing slower and deeper.
Tord had his ear against Tom's door the entire time, frozen in silent fear. The sound of glass shattering, pained noises... He knew damn well he was the cause of it all, and it certainly didn't feel good. He continued to listen once it got silent for a moment, his expression melting into one of vague misery.
He opened the door silently, to which a pillow was immediately thrown at him.
"Fuck off, you bastard. Fuck you, and fuck off. Get out." He demanded in a weak grimace, already making his way onto his bed to get more pillows to throw.
"Fucking Christ, Thomas, look what you did." Tord said, bewildered by Tom's blood-stained knees getting onto the bed. "Whatever. I'll take care of you since you can't fucking do it yourself." He rolled his eyes, leaving the room momentarily.
"Don't come back, you cunt! Close the door!" Tom yelled in response as Tord turned away, slowly laying down with an expression of pure frustration.
When Tord came back in, he slowly stepped forward and kept a close watch for glass shards, before getting on the bed. Tom weakly shoved Tord's arm, hiding his face in his pillow in embarrassment. He was far too reluctant to let Tord care for him. It felt like the lowest of lows.
"Lay on your damn back so I can patch you up. Come on." Tord grumbled, his angry expression harshly contrasting how gently he turned Tom over to reveal his knees.
"Whatever, Thorfrid. You're just gonna use this shit against me later."
"Will you fucking quit? Don't call me that. I'm not in the mood, and I know you're not either. Maybe we should talk it out like real adults for once." Tord said bluntly, which was quick to shut Tom up to think.
Tord used tweezers to delicately pull the glass out, to which Tom occasionally winced against the fabric of his bedsheets and pillow over his face. Tord said nothing, just needing time to think for a bit too.
"...Why are you being nice now? I don't get it." Tom asked, to which Tord sighed deeply.
"Trust me, I'm not used to it. Even I'm baffled." He simply said in response. He dabbed some hydrogen peroxide onto Tom's wounds, earning pained whines and staggered breaths. "I know. It stings. My bad." He added, before bandaging them up and setting the kit aside.
"...Thank you." Tom mumbled after a few moments of silence, making a feeble attempt to sound angered.
"...Don't mention it." Tord replied hesitantly, laying on his side and propping his upper body up with his elbow. "Now, jus' tell me what's up."
"...What's up is that I can't do this with you anymore." Tom started off, seeming reluctant. "This whole thing just... makes me feel worse."
Tord took a moment to process those words, looking to the side. "...I don't like it that much either. I know I put out the idea, but... I thought it'd feel better than fighting."
"I'd rather just solve it even though neither of us know how. I... I don't like being an asshole. I've just gotten so used to it." There was a hint of guilt in Tom's voice, making him sound all the more miserable. It was unusual, to say the least.
"...I just didn't know how else to be close to you without making it weird." Tord admitted, turning his head away in embarrassment. "Lately, I... I've been really missing us being friends."
"... And I just want to feel happy with someone." Tom murmured, voice dry as he hid his face in the sheets to avoid eye-contact. "I-I try so hard to forget that I like my own damn enemy. I keep telling myself that you just hate me, a-and that all you want is sex, and I just... I can't take it. The sex isn't enough. It's worth fucking nothing if you don't even like me."
Perhaps he was rambling due to the tipsiness, needing to let it all out, but deep down it did lift the smallest weight from his shoulders.
Tord just seemed to look back up at Tom in bewilderment, not even sure how to respond in the moment. Was this really how Tom felt? Was Tord really so oblivious? He felt a pang of guilt in his chest, posture slowly sinking with that feeling. "I... I never would've imagined you liking me like that." Tord simply said, though after a moment of tense silence, he felt the need to add on. "...If anything, I... never really loved anyone besides you. I guess I just, I don't know... I didn't know how to put that into words. Or even gestures." His voice seemed to grow into a trembling mumble, unused to sharing so much. Hell, it had even surprised Tom, knowing how emotionally closed-off he tended to be.
"...Do you mean that? Or is that just some dumb joke out of pity? Jus' knock it off." Tom groaned, words slowing in misery. He refused to believe it or take the time to process in that moment. He sniffled and let his tears fall onto the bedsheets, eyes fluttering shut.
"I'm serious, Tom. Dead." Tord grunted. "We used to be close. We'd tell each other just about everything, and we always made time for each other... I want that back. Shitty habits really caught up to us."
Tom could only stay silent for a few long moments, feeling his heart begin to pound. It couldn't be... He wasn't used to this side of Tord. "...I never liked fighting you. That's the only reason I agreed to this stupid thing."
"Don't say that. I always started them because I didn't know how else to get your attention." Tord said outright, slowly turning to lay on his back and keeping his eyes on the ceiling.
"...My heart fucking broke every time we did it. I did all I could to make you feel good and not even that earned simple eye-contact. It was worse than the fighting. Just... Inexpensive." He was trying not to show the frustration in his voice much.
"I didn't think any feelings would come back. I... I just needed any reason to stay close to you without getting hurt. It was dumb, maybe impulsive."
"I mean, it got us to finally talk, right? Words instead of fists, or whatever." Tom murmured, the slightest chuckle passing his lips. He still sounded hurt, though.
"Yeah. I guess there is a silver lining." He replied. He finally turned to look him in the eyes, seeming conflicted. "I just... I don't know where to go from here. I'm so used to what we had going on for years."
"We just help each other. That's the most we can do, right? I mean... Neither of us wanted that, after all. It'll suck, and there'll be dips... But if we get better together, maybe it won't suck so bad." Tom shrugged, starting to blush as he looked down. He wasn't used to speaking so rationally and calmly to Tord. It felt great.
Tord just seemed to smile, turning his head away nervously. "...I'd like that," was all he could manage to say.
"...Oh, come here. Poor baby." Tom rolled his eyes, gently pulling Tord closer and starting off with having a warm hand on his waist. Nothing too big just yet.
Tord looked back up at Tom when he was pulled closer, seeming shocked. He wasn't used to being touched without filthy or ill intent. Seeming hesitant, still, he slowly let himself relax, letting his forehead rest against Tom's chest.
"I have a feeling you never get anything like this." Tom murmured. Tord nodded, seeming embarrassed. "I think we both need this right now." It certainly was such calmness after a storm.
Hardly able to form words, Tord just moved a bit closer, trying to show he was grateful by putting his own hand on Tom's waist as well. "...Th— thank you." He stuttered, swallowing nervously. Tom was so warm, and everything about him just seemed to bring such a comfort.
"I don't think either of us need to be alone right now. So... you're welcome." He sighed, that hand slowly moving to Tord's back to hold him closer. This alone was enough to make Tom feel tired. He rubbed Tord's back and let out a small sigh in content, closing his eyes.
Tord's heart had never pounded this hard. Was Tom really doing this? Holding him so gently, and rubbing his poor back... He didn't realize how much he needed it until that very moment. He let out an accidental low whimper in excitement, unable to help but hold Tom closer as well. He slowly squeezed, hiding further in his chest.
When Tord squeezed him, it forced the unexpected out of Tom: a low, loud purr. He swallowed in embarrassment and tried to pretend it wasn't there, though Tord looked up at Tom in delighted shock.
"...S'that you?" Tord asked, seeming amused and squeezing again. Tom purred louder, hiding his face with a hand.
"Shut up. It's nothing. Just rest," he mumbled, trying to act mad.
"I didn't think you could do that... I didn't think anyone could." Tord chuckled, not seeming to mind. Sure, it was strange, but nothing too unusual considering Tom's black eyes.
"I might be the only one, I dunno..." Tom's voice was softer with that same embarrassment, curling up around Tord to hide his red cheeks.
Tord decided to just hold him with both arms, clinging on while he could. Such a nice feeling with warmth surrounding him was so new... There was no way he couldn't love Tom, now. "It's okay, you big baby."
Tom didn't reply, but squeezed Tord back instead. Despite the embarrasment he felt, absolutely nothing felt better than this.