||TomTord Oneshots||

|5|shut up...

Since the last chapter was angsty as hell, I decided to write this fluff at 01:13 in the morning. :')
-Lily

"What the fuck?"

Tom narrowed his eyes as he looked top-to-bottom in his room for his favorite hoodie. He threw everything around, looking under everything.

After searching nearly the whole house, he crossed his arms and looked around. He had checked his room, the laundry room, the kitchen, the bathroom, the storage closer, the extra-eddventure room, Edd's room, Matt's room, and...

His eyes widened as he trekked down the hallway. He stopped in from of a red-painted, wooden door with stickers decorating the outside.

The stickers included a communist symbol or two, a Norway flag, a 'caution' symbol, 'do not disturb' lettering , and 'Tord's Room. Fuck off.'. The stickers seemed to be decaying and creasing at the corners, obviously from old age.

Tom set his hand on the doorknob, twisting the handle and pushing open the door quickly, angrily walking inside.

"Tord! Do you have m-"

He immediately shut up when he seen the short Norski cuddling a large pillow, his legs and arms wrapped around it as if it were a person. He was sleeping with only a few sleep-whispers and quiet, exhaled, snores.

Tom noticed that he wore an oversized blue hoodie, the hood on, covering his honey-caramel hair.

Slowly, the brit made his way toward the bed, setting a hand onto Tord's shoulder before shaking him, causing the male to give a small, agitated hum. He was obviously still half asleep.

"Tord. Give me my hoodie." Tom demanded grouchily, holding out his hand. He got a headshake as a response.

"No... Can't. warm and smells nice... Like Tom."

Tom glared, his cheeks filling with heat. He was slightly pissed at his enemy, seeing as Tord had given no specific reason for taking his hoodie.

"Then why the hell do you have it? Hm? Why can't you use your own?"

"Edd threw it away, yesterday. He said it was too old... So I took yours because I was cold, and it smelt like you." Tord's voice was flat, yet his accent was thicker due to his half-asleep, half-awake state.

Tom leaned onto the bed with his hands, "Tord... Just- Just give me it. You can use your blanket or something."

Tord turned over to look at Tom, his eyes half-lidded, "No... If you take the hoodie, you'll have to stay in here and take the place of it."

Tom narrowed his eyes, confusion filling his thoughts, "What does that even mean..?"

Tord closed his eyes before sitting himself up, "You'll have to stay in here and sleep..." He pointed to the spot beside him, "...right there."

Tom's cheeks heated up slightly, but he just shook his head. It wasn't weird to sleep in the same bed as another guy, right? Unless you make it weird...

The Brit sighed heavily, "Fine. just hand it over."

Tord groaned and pulled the hoodie off of him, leaving him in a black t-shirt. He threw the hoodie at Tom and scooted over slightly, laying his head back onto his pillow.

Tom smiled to himself before pulling the hoodie over his body. He dusted it off before sitting onto the side of the bed.

After a bit, he layed back, his legs bent. He was on his side, facing Tord, who had fallen back asleep.

Tom just watch the sleeping Norski. He examined the way he looked when he was sleeping.

His chest rose and fell as he breathed. His mouth was slightly agape, and his eyes closed. His eyes were closed and had bags beneathe them, proving that the reason he was sleeping so early in the afternoon was because he possibly hadn't slept much the night before. His hair was sticking to his forehead from some sort of night-sweat and his cheeks were a blossom-pink, obviously from heat.

Tom was snapped from his thoughts as Tord shifted close to him, cuddling close into his chest.

The eyeless brit froze, his eyes becoming white from surprise. Soon, he relaxed, his cheeks burning with heat. He enveloped the snoring Norski into his arms, smiling softly, "Oh fine, ya commie-ass. Just don't think anything of it when you wake up..."

Tord hummed in his sleep as if he understood.

After a few hours, only quiet snores from Tord and Tom were heard, as well as the occasional mumble from the two talking back and forth in their sleep.

"Ugh...Stop moving Tord..."

"Mm...Shut up..."

"I hate you..."

"I love you..."

"mmnn... gay... I love you too."

After that, no more conversation was sent, and they just silently slept, happily relaxing.

Cheesy-sausages. 👀👀👀