Sleepy

There is no rest for a Tom, is there?

"Tom!  Tom!  Tom!"

Tom was wrenched out of sleep by the feeling of his body being shaken.  Matt's high-pitched voice pierced through the comfortable silence of his unconsciousness.  Even through his eyelids, the overhead light in his room was uncomfortably bright.  He squeezed his eyes shut as tightly as he could and groaned in annoyance as he pulled the covers over his head.  The shaking stopped, but the high-pitched voice didn't.

"Tom, get up, breakfast's on the table!"  No response.  "Toooooooomm..."  The shaking started again, much to Tom's displeasure.

"I'll be there in a minute!" he snapped.  Matt immediately backed off, even though he didn't seem at all phased by the outburst.  He had grown used to his roommate's often surly behavior, especially in the morning.

"Okay, see you there!" he said before trotting out the bedroom door.

Tom didn't feel like getting up.  What he did feel like doing was staying in bed all day.  In hindsight, staying up until 5 in the morning watching meme videos on YouTube hadn't been one of his better ideas.  Unfortunately, he started to grow hungry as the minutes passed.  Curse his body for needing nutrients to survive.  After a few more minutes of slow, foggy contemplation he rolled into a sitting position with his legs hanging off the bed, eyes still closed and covers still pulled around him.  It was faintly amusing that just getting out of bed was currently one of the least enjoyable experiences he'd had in a while.  He forced his eyes open as he stood up and stumbled around his bedroom, putting on the first shirt he pulled out of his dresser.  Not bothering to put on pants, he threw on his blue hoodie and walked out of the room in his boxers.

He arrived in the dining room and sat down without a word.

"Hey Tom!" Matt said in a voice that was far too chipper for Tom's taste.

"'Ey Rom," Edd seconded though a mouthful of cereal.  Tord wasn't there at the moment.  There were TV sounds coming from the living room, so he was most likely there.  Tom just stared down at the table, his hands resting loosely in his hoodie pocket.  If his eyes had been any color other than complete void black, they likely would've looked about as glazed over as they could get.  Matt didn't appear to have noticed anything, but Edd took a second look at his unresponsive friend, this one of concern.

"You doing okay?"

"Hm."

"Are you sick?"

Tom shook his head.

"Just tired then?"

A shrug.  "Guess so."  Edd took another bite before answering.

"Are you gonna eat anything?"

Tom shrugged again.  It wasn't that he wasn't hungry.  He still was.  Despite this, eating just didn't sound too... well, appetizing, for whatever reason.  "Probably not," he mumbled, getting up from his chair and walking into the living room.

The TV was on, playing a rerun of "The Children", and (true to Tom's previous assumption) on the couch watching it was Tord.

"Tom," Tord said, looking away from the TV.  Tom glanced at Tord, but didn't answer as he plopped himself down beside the norwegian.  After a minute of attempting to focus on the show (or look straight ahead at all) Tom saw how Tord was staring.

"What?" he asked harshly, though he realized that he probably had dark circles under his eyes.

"Did you sleep well?" Tord asked, as if it weren't completely obvious that that wasn't the case.  Tom looked away, irritated.

"No."

"In that case, shouldn't you go rest?"

"I'll be fine," Tom insisted.

"Okay, if you say so," Tord remarked with a dismissive shrug.

With the interaction over, Tom went back to trying to watch the show, but he quickly found that he was having quite a bit of difficulty doing so.  He couldn't get his eyes to focus properly, and doing so was strangely taxing.  Not only that, but the bright, quickly changing colors on the television and the overhead lights were unusually bright, and they were beginning to give him a headache.  He closed his eyes in hopes of giving them a rest.  The instant he did so, he felt a sense of calm wash over him.  It was like the air itself had just gotten a little bit lighter.  Maybe he could stay like this for a few minutes.  Just a few more.

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Tord chortled as a funny moment came up in the show.  It was one he had seen many times before, but it somehow amused him every time.  He noticed that Tom had been pretty silent for a while; ten minutes, maybe?  Not that silence was hugely unusual for the blue-hooded brit, but Tord knew he normally enjoyed this show.  It was a bit unusual for him to be this quiet.  He was about to attempt to take another crack at small talk when he felt something fall onto his shoulder.  He startled slightly, turning his head to see what it was.

He was immensely surprised to see Tom leaning against him.  Of all people.  Of course, Tom was the only other person in the room at the time, so it wouldn't have been somebody else, but that was besides the point.  Tom's eyes were closed and his breathing was steady, marking him as asleep.  Part of Tord just wanted to shove Tom off, but the other part didn't want to wake the guy up.  Besides, it wasn't like this was something he couldn't take advantage of.  Quickly he pulled out his phone and opened snapchat.  He shot a picture of them both and posted it with the caption;

Look at this baby

Tom was going to be pissed.  But for now...

He felt Tom shift, curling into him a little more.  At first, Tord didn't exactly know what he could do without waking the other up.  At last, he settled for leaning on the arm of the couch, allowing Tom to rest on his side, which was likely more comfortable than in a sitting position leaning on someone else's shoulder.  He felt Tom shift again and went back to watching the show.

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Tom woke up in bed.  He cracked his eyes open and rolled onto his back, groggily wiping a patch of drool from the corner of his mouth.

Gross.

His bedroom was dim, the only light coming from his window between partially closed blinds. He felt really warm and drowsy, the kind of comfortable, almost smothering feeling that you typically get after taking a four-hour nap in the middle of the day.  Waking up a little more, he realized that the reason he was especially warm was because he was still wearing his hoodie.

Still?

Oh yeah.  Had he fallen asleep in front of the TV?  Apparently so.  How had he gotten back to his bed, though?

Had Tord carried him back?

That was something he'd rather not think about.  He reached over to the bedside table and fumbled around for his phone, grabbing it to check the time.

1:30

Jeez.  It really had been four hours.  Well, at least he was feeling a bit better now.  He still didn't feel like getting up though, so he flicked his thumb across the phone screen a few times and opened snapchat.

He had only scrolled down twice when something caught his eye.  A post Tord had made earlier that day, a selfie.  But there was someone else in the photo.  There face was pressed up against Tord's shoulder and-

Wait.

Suddenly, Tom felt a whole lot less tired.