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1-
Tom sighs, sitting at the commissary table and poking at his food. He was getting tired of the back and forth between himself and the dense ass "Red Leader"
It'd been months since that night. Tord was clearly too drunk to remember it, but Tom clearly remembers telling him how he felt. And... Nothing.
Tord had said he loved him too, but nothing's changed since then. He doesn't get any of the hints, either. And he never gets a damn chance to tell him.
Except maybe now. He was too deep in thought to notice, but Tord just sat beside him.
2-
Tom took a deep breath. It was an accident. A mishap. He just had to tell him that.
Of course, then, what would he say when he asked who it was meant for? Surely, there's no one else Tom would have sent a dick pick to. He definitely couldn't tell him that he'd actually been considering it but tried to back out last second.
He had no time to think up an excuse as Tord opened the door.
((Basically the incorrect quote/text post that goes- Tord: You know why I called you in here? Tom: bc I accidentally sent you a dick pick... Tord: *stops pouring wine* accidentally?))
3-
Tom huffs, slapping the fresh wound to get through Tord's thick skull. "You need to STOP testing on yourself like this..." He complains as Tord winced.
The other huffed, glancing back at him. "Why? I've been fine so far." He replied stubbornly
(Tord got himself hurt experimenting on himself basically-)
4-
Tord stood there, baffled as Tom raged through the troops. Bullets didn't stop him, or so it seemed.
Once Tom had gotten far enough that Tord's soldiers could infiltrate the army base, he collapsed, blacking out.
When he came to, he found himself in the medical bay of Tord's base. He was strapped to a heart monitor and an IV, laid up in a familiar hospital bed. Tord was sitting beside him, head laying on the edge in a puddle of tears.
