TomTord One Shots

Biker Tord x Waiter Tom

There will in fact be another part to this. I just don't believe that it'll be finished soon and I don't want to keep you waiting, so here's this.

Tord loved riding his motorbike. He loved how he forgot everything in his life when he was out on the road.

He liked forgetting his ex.

He liked forgetting his abusive parents.

He liked forgetting his trouble finding a job.

Whenever things got bad, he'd always get on his motorbike and drive out to a local diner. This particular night, he had gotten home after a job interview to find that his father was drunk and his mother was out working. That was already bad. Whenever his father was drunk, it meant Tord would get a beating and with his mother out of the house, there was no one to stop "all that noise."

He luckily made it out of the house with only a black eye and a few bruises. His father simply used his fists this time instead of a chair or the occasionally used knife. He was obviously in a good mood to let Tord go so easily.

Driving into the diner's parking lot, he parked where he always did, which was in the furthest parking space from the diner entrance. He walked in and sat at the furthest seat from the cash register. He seemed to be the only one left in the diner at that hour.

Tord pulled his black jacket's hood over his head and took out a menu, gazing at it. He didn't know why exactly he had picked up the menu, as he had memorized every possible order.

"Ahem," Someone in front of Tord on the other side of the counter cleared their throat. He looked up to lay his eyes on a boy who smiled sheepishly, holding a notebook in one tan hand and a dark blue pen in the other. He's right-handed.

Tord quickly made a mental note of this, not sure onto why.

"May I take your order, sir?" The boy nervously widened his smile, showing off his slightly crooked teeth, which made his nose and eyes slightly crinkle. Those crinkling eyes looked like voids that you could fall into for all of eternity. Voids that Tord felt he was already falling into.

"I'll just have a strawberry shake. Thanks," Tord looked away, fairly concerned on whether or not the boy could see his blush.

The boy definitely noticed Tord's blush and he blushed in return. He felt flattered that such a handsome and beautiful guy was actually blushing because of him. What made this situation even better for the boy was that Tord was wearing a My Chemical Romance shirt.

He loved My Chemical Romance.

The boy turned to the shake-making-machine-thing-what-is-it-called and began working on Tord's order.

"So... um... Are you new here?" Tord asked the boy.

"Oh, uh, yeah. Yeah, I am," He stammered, not expecting Tord to engage in conversation.

"What's your name? You don't have your name tag on, so..."

"I'm Tom and my name was spelled wrong on my tag, so the manager's fixing it."

Tord laughed. "Matt sure is a moron. How hard is it to spell, 'Tom'?"

"Very, apparently," Tom was surprised that Tord knew his manager's name. "So, you're a usual customer?" He finished with the shake and set it in front of Tord, handing him a thick red and white striped bendy straw.

Tord happily bent the straw and set it in his shake. "Yeah," He took a long satisfying sip of his strawberry flavored drink. "I love strawberry shakes and this diner seems to be the only place to get them."

Tom couldn't think of anything else to add on to their conversation, so he began cleaning what was used for the making of Tord's shake.

The two stayed silent for a while before Tom finished with his cleaning and leaned on the counter next to Tord. "I love My Chemical Romance," He said softly.

"Really? What a coincidence! I love MCR too!" Tord mentally face-palmed himself because of how stupid he sounded.

"I assumed so," Tom pointed at his shirt.

Tord looked down, as he had forgotten what he threw on that morning. He mentally face-palmed himself again. "Right..."

Tom giggled. Tord started at Tom, his eyes fixated on every one of Tom's features.

Tom noticed this and stopped laughing. "What?"

"Oh, um... just..." Tord looked away. "Has anyone told you that you are beautiful?"

Tom blushed and looked away like Tord had. "No..." No, Tom had never been called beautiful.

He had been called many things. Fat. Weak. Ugly. Attention-whore. Slut. Irrelevant. Worthless. Unlovable.

But never, not once in his life, had he been called... beautiful.

The word stuck in Tom's mind. He loved it in Tord's voice. Tord's warm, sweet voice, laced with a thick Norwegian accent.

Especially when it was about him. "Attention-whore," Tom winced from the voice in his head.

"Well, you're beautiful."

"Th-thanks," Tom mumbled.

Tord's hand made it's way to Tom's. Tom felt Tord's hand and flinched away, then realizing what had happened.

"O-oh. I-I'm sorry," He held one of his hands in his other and looked at the floor, looking ashamed, like a child who had just gotten in trouble.

"No, no. I'm sorry. That was without warning," Tord stared at Tom concerningly. "Are you okay?"

Tom walked over to the cash register and pretended to something important on it. "Yeah... I'm fine."

Tord looked down at his shake and took another sip. He then pulled out a pack of cigarettes and pulled one out. "No. No, you're not fine," Taking out his red lighter, he lit the cigarette and took a drag, then let the smoke roll from his lips. "I've been here enough times to know that you're not really doing anything on that cash register."

Tom looked up at Tord then back to the register. He undid what random things he put into the register and walked over to sit next to Tord, resting his head on his crossed arms.

Tord reached over and pet Tom's soft, chocolate-colored hair. "Trust me, I understand," Tom raised his head a little a starred up at Tord. "My life isn't exactly what you'd call charmed. You see this?" Tord pointed at his black eye with his free hand.

Tom nodded.

"My father did this. He must have been in a good mood today because it's usually worse than this," Tord the pulled out his phone. He pulled up a picture and showed it to Tom. "You see this man?" In the picture, there was a man around 19 with slick back white hair and a t-shirt with a sports team that Tom didn't recognize printed on the front.

Tom nodded again.

"This is my ex. He picked me up, played me, then I caught him moaning in bed with a woman," Tord slid his phone back into his pocket. "I know when someone's broken. I see people with the same eyes as mine, filled with a fiery hatred and misery."

Tom looked back down at the counter.

"My point is that I understand and that I want you to know that I'll be here for you."

Tom looked back at Tord.

Tom then spoke. "Thanks. I'll... keep that in mind..."

Tord caressed Tom's cheek. "Tom, I don't know much about this sort of thing as I've never been loved, but I think I love you."

Tom's breath caught in his throat. They've only met each other a few minutes ago.

"So, would you like to go on a date with me sometime?"

Tom spaced out for a moment but then smiled and nodded. "I'd like that."