sick of you (tomtord)

14.

"Two Smirnoffs, please," Tom flashed a smile at Tord. "It's on me."

"No, I can pay-"

"It's on me."

Tord sighed and flicked Tom's cheek. "You're so stubborn, you know that?"

The bartender came back with two Smirnoffs, then shuffled off to serve someone else. Loud music obnoxiously sounded around the bar, the chatter of people only adding to the clammer of noise.

Tom shrugged and sipped his drink.

"Not planning on getting drunk, hm?"

"Nah."

"That's new."

Tom shot a glare at him. Tord smiled innocently, drinking from his own bottle of Smirnoff. He looked around the bar, analyzing everyone there. He turned back around to look at Tom.

"I can't believe we lied to my parents to get here," Tord sighed, running hand through his hair.

"Chill out." Tom promised after taking another swig. "Nothing's gonna happen. Worst case scenario is we're gonna get drunk. I doubt it, though. Not after last time."

"You never know," Tord sighed. He suddenly felt two pairs of eyes burning into his back, causing him to shift around anxiously and glance over his shoulders. He saw two guys mumbling to each other and pointing at him. He quickly turned back around, knuckles turning white as he tightened his grip on the bottle.

"What's wrong?" Tom looked at him. "You look worried. I know that because your eyes always do this thing where-"

"Tom." Tord grabbed him by the collar of his hoodie and pulled him close. "We need to get out. Now." He hissed quietly.

"Why?" Tom pouted. "I haven't even finished my-"

"We need to leave," Tord repeated, his eyes narrowing. "If we don't, something bad will happen. Listen to me."

"I don't see what you-"

"UGH! If we stay we'll die. If we leave we.. have a chance of living." Tord growled.

Tom's eyebrows furrowed. He was still confused but decided not to argue. "Okay..?"

Tord casually glanced over to the two men; they were whispering to each other again, now smirking. He stood up and put money on the counter, holding Tom's hand, trying to sneak his way out. They burst out of the bar, cool air hitting both of them.

"Okay, we're safe," Tord sighed in relief.

"We need to get a taxi," Tom tugged at his shirt collar, glancing nervously over his shoulder. "Those guys are staring at us through the glass. What the hell!?"

"I don't know!" Tord snapped impatiently. "Shut your mouth and help me call a taxi over." They stood on the curb, constantly checking behind them and scanning the streets for a yellow car.

"Hey." The gruff voice came from behind them.

Tord slowly turned around, seeing the same two guys. He flinched. "Uh.. Yes?"

Tom turned around too, stepping in front of him protectively. "Is there a problem?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Shut it, freak," one of them growled. "We're just here for devil-hair. He looks like a great toy~"

"He's not an object. Now leave before you get hurt," Tom warned.

"You can't tell us what-"

Before he could finish, Tom socked him in the nose, causing him to stagger backwards and gasp in pain.

"Oh my god.." Tord lifted a hand to his mouth.

Tom ignored him and turned to glare at the other one. He kicked him in the balls and pushed him to the floor, triumphantly standing over him. While he was distracted, the one Tom had punched in the nose came back and shoved him backwards into the street.

Tord screamed and heard tires screeching, then an agonized shriek.

"TOM!"