The Traitor and The Communist

Lovely Weather Isn't It?

Song- Dashboard By: Modest Mouse

A content sigh passes through Tom's lips as he rolls over. He buries his face into his pillow attempting to block out the light from the skylight. Tom pauses, his eyes still closed and breathes in a bit deeper then normal. His pillow doesn't exactly smell like it was supposed to, granted he hadn't washed it in a bit, but it didn't even remotely smell vodka esc. Not to mention it was warmer then normal.

Skylight? Tom rethinks to himself, That's weird I don't usually have one. He freezes further still when he feels something passing by his hair repeatedly. Tom slowly blinks open his eyes and pulls back his head from his 'pillow'. The overhead light is on Tom blandly notices, before realizing where he's laying. In the lap of an unconscious Tord.

Tord's head is resting on an awkward angle on his shoulder. The thing touching Tom's hair is Tord, who is softly running his robotic hand through it, stopping once in awhile to play with a few strains before repeating the previous action, he must've been doing it before he fell asleep, making him forget to make his arm stop and causing a little loop of action. His other hand is acting as a guardrail on Tom's back, so he doesn't fall off the couch. A blanket is intertwined with Tom's legs, leaving no extra covering Tord. Tom watches Tord's face, his lips are parted slightly as he snores quietly.

Tom's face flushes some and he swallows the air in his mouth. He carefully lays back down on Tord's lap, there's no way he can get up with out waking Tord, so no point staying at an awkward angle.

Though not like laying down was any less awkward but it was more comfortable. Tord twirls Tom's hair between his fingers again and Tom closes his eyes as his face heats up more, Tom pleas for Tord to wake up soon in his head, as he opens one eye and looks up at Tord's face. Contemplating if he looked sort of peaceful as he slept. Tord's chest slowly raised and fell in a relaxed manner.

Tom stares at Tord from his lap. Then flinched away from looking at Tord as his face heated up more. Tom scolds himself about staring, at the same time as he tries to look anywhere but Tord. Finally settling for starting at the back of the couch.

Tord shifted in his sleep, consequently giving Tom a mini heart attack. He sqeezed his eyes shut so hard he felt wrinkles form at the bridge of his nose. A finger pushes Tom's head away from Tord's chest by the forehead.
"I can see you're awake."

_
Crumbs fell onto Tord's plate as he bit into his buttered toast. He raised an eyebrow and looked at Tom sitting across from him at Edd's kitchen table. Tom's face was tinted pink around his cheek bones. It worsened as the two made eye contact, Tom quickly broke the staring contest by looking into his coffee mug.

Edd clattered a plate with an omelet on it in front of the only empty seat, before sitting down in said seat. Matt broke a chunk off of his muffin and looked between Tom and Tord then to Edd. Edd shrugged and started some light conversation about some guy at his work that he was surprised could walk and breathe at the same time.

Matt watched as Tord talked pleasantries with him and Edd, cracking jokes and all, but Tom was quiet and to himself barely talking and trying to not look at Tord too much. Oh how the tables turn, Matt jests to himself.
"So I was thinking, sense this is one of the last weeks I'm going to under house arrest by doctors note," Tord says, slowly and careful as if the words might break if used wrong, "that I should probably get a job, even if its just something part time." he spits out.

A fork clinks as Edd sets it down,
"Are you sure?" Edd says, resting his elbows on the table, intertwining his fingers so he can rest his head on the semi-flat surface it makes. Tom stops eating as well, pushing his food around his plate with a fork lightly, and swirling his coffee but never drinking. Even Matt grew quiet, breaking off pieces of his muffin and eating it as he watched.

"I mean, well, yeah." Tord answers with the same confidence and conviction as a teenager lying that they've totally kissed someone before. "I got to pull my weight somehow." The red cuff of Tord's sweater bunches and straightens as Tord fumbles with it, his eyes flick around to the other occupants of the table, his throat simultaneously fighting for air and locking it in place. Edd takes a drink out of his cup and looks at Tord with a confused stare,
"If you really feel up to it, then of course you can. You're an adult, not like you need our permission."

The tops of Tord's cheek bones turn a faint shade of pink. "Right, of course. I might need help with my resume I haven't worked a 'real job' in a while." Edd laughed and patted Tord's arm, as he agreed to help.

_
Tord drops his green duffle on the floor of a barren room. The walls had nothing on them and the room it self had no set up furniture, but the floor had a couple of boxes on it that were going to fix that.

Freshly maroon painted walls surrounded Tord. He sits on the floor and lets out a deep breath of air. With a spruced up resume, three words of good faith and a bachelors in engineering, landed Tord a special effects job at the same movie studio Matt, Edd, and technically Tom, worked at.

A few months worth of hoarding, Tord finally saved up enough to get his own apartment and move out of Tom's.

"That's everything," Tom grunts as he squats to put another box on Tord's floor, "man for a guy just getting into his own place you sure have a lot of shit." Tord lets out a halfhearted laugh.
"I guess I do. Thanks again for helping me though, it means a lot." Tom pats Tord on the back,
"Don't mention it."

"Actually there is one more thing." Tord crouches down to his duffle and unzips it. Tom watches over Tord's shoulder as he grabs something off the top.
"Here." Tord holds out something with one hand, it's wrapped in brown wrapping paper and tied shut with a string. Tom takes it and turns it around in his hands, it has a bit of weight to it, enough to be in the ball park of a decent sized book. And doesn't shift in his hands aside from the paper, other then that it's completely solid.

"Open it." Tord smiles and waves his hand forward in a 'go on' manner, his other hand was hidden away in his jeans pocket. Tom undoes the string holding the paper, causing the string to dangle underneath Tom's hand. He pulls the paper back and is met with a shiny metallic object.

Tom grabs the thing out from the paper and turns it over in his hands, it's a flask.

It was made out of silver and had a twist off top, the smaller details of the flask, such as the corners, had a built on leather covering. The head of the flask had a flower design etched onto it, stretching and spiraling to the edge of the flask in an unwinnable race. He turned it over a few times and realized that Tord must've paid to get Tom's initials engraved on the bottom of the flask. The initials shined up at him.

"Is, is this the one from?" Tom stammers and looks up at Tord holding the flask as if it were made out of the thinnest glass possible to make.
"Yep." Tord says popping the 'p' and smiling even harder.

Tord's stance wavers as Tom throws himself into him. Wrapping him into a hug. Tord stands there frozen staring doe eyed into the distance where Tom just was, he shakes himself out of it and returns the hug. Tom's arms wrap around Tord's midsection, as Tord has his arms around Tom's shoulders. The tallest part of Tom's hair brushes against the bottom of Tord's jaw.

"Thank you." Tom mumbles into Tord's shirt still hugging him.

He pulls back and both of their faces are flushed.
"S'no problem. I felt like I owed you." A shit eating smile spreads across Tord's face, "Plus I didn't want Matt to be suspicious when I gave him this." Tord holds out another package. Shaped just like the clown from the pawn shop.