Tom set his bottle of Smirnoff gently on the table, sitting back on the couch to kick off his shoes, only to lay his feet onto the table. Edd, Matt, and Tord were all out tonight to see some concert Tom considered a waste, leaving the drunkard all alone to relax for once. It was at least a relief to get away from all the noise and drama that usually occurred, especially with Tord. The commie was nothing but absolute trouble and yet he was the only one to see that. Not that he particularly cared or did much about it. He just hated everything he did, was all. Nothing too big. He gave a slight shake of his head and sighed, flipping on the TV with the remote. It was his night to relax, no need to think about the others.
Two bottles of Smirnoff in and he already felt heavily drowsy, clutching the second bottle and downing all that was left, leaving no drop left behind. He tossed the bottle behind him, a jerk coming from him as it shattered behind him. Tom let out a loud sigh and sank back into the cushions, staring at the what used to be interesting show. Having nothing to do, and for everything to be so ridiculously unappealing, he began to slip into thoughts about his own enemy, Tord. It was surprising enough for him, he hated the very thought of that stupid, spiky haired devil. And yet, he couldn't quite get him out of his mind. Delving deeper into his self indulgent thoughts, he didn't even noticed his hand ghosting to his crotch, a surprised, yet flustered, look on his face once he realized that he was turned on — by his goddamn enemy. He just utterly loathed the idea of being with Tord in that way. I mean, really? How could that ever be attractive? Skin against skin, soft tender touches, soft mumbles of how much they hate each other.... It definitely frustrated Tom in more ways then one.
