TomTord Oneshots

Drunken Love

(Idea given to me by @fnafgamer101.)

 
    "Thomas?" Tord asked as he knocked on Tom's door for the fifth time. He didn't really hear anything except for a few shuffle noises, and he was kind of worried about his 'enemy'. He heard more shuffles and a groan.
"Whaaaaat." He heard the Brit on the other side say. Well, it sounded like it should have been a question, but not at the same time.
"You've been locked up for a bit. I came to check on you." Tord said. There was a moment of silence between the two before the door opened, realizing a slumped over Tom. Bags were under his eyes, his hair was fucked up, and his eyes were half lidded, as well. The strong smell of alcohol instantly smacked Tord right in the face.

"ECH!" Tord made one of his weird noises and stumbled back. "You smell like death came for your ass but dropped you into a sewer before you went to the afterlife. FAEN!" Tord insulted him. Tom just stared blankly at him. ".... how drunk are you?"
"A lot." Tom didn't even English right to that question. He stopped leaning against the door, making him sway in place. Tord slowly stood up normally, watching him, confused. Tom started to fall forwards, making Tord rush forward and catch him. He hugged the drunken Tom to his chest, sighing softly.

    After a second or two, Tord noticed something. His hoodie was getting wet, and he could hear soft sounds and whimpers coming from Tom. He looked down at him, confused.
   "Tom? Are you... crying?" He asked. When Tom didn't respond, he gently grabbed Tom's hair and pulled his head back a bit, seeing that the Brit was, indeed, crying. Tord gasped softly. He barely even saw the Brit cry. Ever. He hugged Tom again, hearing his whimpers turn to soft sobs.

"What's wrong?" Tord suddenly asked. Tom sniffled.
"I'm useless...." Tom mumbled through Tord's hoodie. "No one loves me... I'm worth nothing..." he mumbled. Tord hugged him tighter, blushing softly at what he was about to say.
"You aren't... someone loves you..."
"Oh yeah? Name someone." Tom mumbled drunkly. Tord sighed.
   "Well.... your brother."
   "I don't mean like that." Tom mumbled.
   "... then me."
"What?" Tom asked, looking at Tord as he swayed a bit.
"You heard me. I said 'then me'." He replied, his cheeks burning. Tom's cheeks seemed to turn red as well. Suddenly, the drunk Brit grinned and hiccuped.
"Awwww the commie has feelings."
"Shut up." Tord growled. Tom hiccuped again before leaning up and kissing Tord. The norski would have kissed back, but he shoved Tom away. The drunken Brit looked hurt.
"Do you not like me like that..?"
"No. You just taste like pure alcohol." Tord chuckled playfully. Tom's expression lightened up.