survival (tomtord)

6

i'm feeling like i'm disappointing you guys with this story,,

i'm sorry, i just want to be a better author

"When are we attacking?" Tom asked. He was cuddled up under the blankets of Tord's bed, shivering at the cold.

"I don't know, but not now. We don't have many soldiers," Tord sighed. "We have to find more ammunition. I sent three soldiers off to look for some. The army has to be ready."

"A simple 'no' would've been good."

Tord corner-eyed him, annoyed. He was writing stuff down in pen at his desk. "Quiet, wiseass."

Tom stuck his tongue out and buried his face in Tord's pillow, thinking it was his own.

"Gross, Thomas. That's my pillow. Didn't think you liked the smell of sweat and cigars," Tord snickered.

"Fuck!" Tom's face heated up. He grabbed Tord's pillow and threw it at the Norwegian. "I didn't mean to!"

"Sure, sure."

"Suck a dick.." Tom mumbled before turning to face the wall.

"Yours, preferably," those words slipped out of Tord's mouth inevitably. He made a surprised sound of realization and his pen swerved to the side, leaving a marking on the paper.

Tom sat up quickly and stared at him, eyes wide. He soon burst into laughter so hard it caused his stomach to hurt.

"I-I didn't- It was an accident! I'd rather kill myself!" Tord tried to recover, blushing deeply. Sweat beaded on his forehead.

Continuing to laugh, Tom clutched his stomach. Tears of joy streaked down his cheeks. "y-YOU- PFFT- AHAHAHAHAH!! You're s-so fucking gay! hHAHAAH-"

Tord leaped out of his chair and landed sitting on Tom's legs, cutting him off. He slapped his normal hand over Tom's mouth.

"You will not speak of this," Tord hissed, still blushing profusely.

"Hm~" Tom waggled his eyebrows playfully.

"I hate you so much." Tord growled, knowing he didn't actually mean it.

"Commie."

"Jehovah's Witness."

"Asshole."

"Drittsekk."

"Idiot."

"Bitch."

"Fucktard."

"Fuckwad."

Giving up, Tom stuck his tongue out.

There was a knock on the door and Pat walked in. "Sir-" He went silent, staring at the two. "Am I, uh.. interrupting something?"

"I- huh?" Tord was still sitting on Tom's legs. His eyes widened in realization and his face heated up. "God, no!" Tom was blushing too, squirming uncomfortably.

"Don't tell anyone you saw that," Tord got off of the Brit and brushed himself off.

"Y-Yes, sir..?" Pat cleared his throat. "I wanted to report that we have found some more guns and ammunition."

"Thank you, soldier."

Pat nodded and shuffled out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

Both males stayed in silence, most likely due to the embarrassment only moments ago. Tord went back to his desk and Tom laid down again.

"Tord?" Tom said.

"What?"

"This is boring. And stupid. Waiting around here won't do us any good," he sat up and ran a hand through his hazelnut-colored hair. "We should go to the Green Army base and check the outside to see their weak spots."

"Thomas, they have cameras," Tord rolled his eyes.

"No, actually, they don't," Tom spoke smugly, his arms crossed. "Edd got cocky and said, 'We don't need cameras, my soldiers are the best of the best.'"

This new information made Tord look at Tom, his eyes giving away all his thoughts.

"Are.. are you serious?" The Norwegian stammered.

"Yes! Now, can we go?" Tom questioned. He sat back on his feet and knees, bouncing like an excited child.

"Yeah." Tord opened a drawer and passed Tom a pistol. "Here. Just in case. I have mine too."

Tom grinned. He felt like he hadn't had a gun in his hands for days. He ran his fingers over the barrel, trigger, and the rest. "Niiiice."

"Let's go."

"This gun is nice."

"Come on."

"What version is it?"

"Get up."

"Is it-"

Tord grabbed Tom by the arm and yanked him upward roughly. Their chests collided, faces inches away. Tom could feel the other's hot breath on his face.

"I said: let's go."