Blueberry Harem (Tom x Tord/Matt/Edd)

Macaroons And Shaved Legs

Half a bottle was, sadly, not enough to get Tom drunk. He didn't get up from his floor however. He knew he didn't have anymore Smirnoff in the fridge. He hadn't gone shopping in about two weeks and he had been drinking non stop within that time.

Tom let out a groan as he attempted to stand up. He had been laying on his floor for hours and both of his legs had fallen asleep.

He shakily stood up, leaning on his wall for support. He shook his legs a bit in order to wake them up, before he tried walking. Almost immediately he fell to the ground. Tom heard footsteps rush to his room and seconds later Tord threw open the door and immediately went to Tom's aid.

"Tom! Are you okay?" Tord asked, as he helped Tom stand up. Tom looked at the ground and pushed himself away from Tord.

"Just dandy," Tom replied, sarcasm evident. Tom didn't notice his voice was shaky. He didn't want to be sarcastic, but he couldn't drop his cold persona, because underneath there was a fragile soul that could shatter if you touched the wrong spot. And Tom knew if he were to drop his act in front of any of his friends, his emotions would spill out of him, oceans of insecurities and deep, depressing thoughts that he couldn't escape from; and Tom's voice. The one Tom hated. The one that told him he was never good enough, and that he will never accomplish anything. The voice that had told Tom many times before that Tom is unlovable. He can't love anybody, and nobody can love him.

"Are you sure? You sound shaky," Tord pointed out, his arms still supporting Tom's weight. "I noticed you haven't been eaten much lately. Do you need food?"

Tom wanted to say yes. He hadn't eaten in days, and it felt as if his stomach was eating himself from the inside out.

"No, I don't need your fucking food, and I don't need your fucking help," Tom growled, pushing Tord away. Tom stood shaking, eyes focused on the ground. He felt as if his legs could give out on him at any minute.

Tom heard Tord scowl, before sighing. Tord walked over to Tom and picked him up, carefully setting him down on the bed seconds later.

"Well I'm making you food whether you fucking like it or not," Tord said, as he turned and walked to the door. "M'kay?"

All Tom could do was nod, flustered by Tord's actions.

About half an hour later, Tord came back carrying a tray full of food. There was a soupish looking think, and tiny little cakes of some sorts on a plate to the side. Then there was a glass of chocolate milk.

Tom shot Tord a questioning glance. Tord smiled proudly.

"In front of you is lapskaus, or, beef stew. Made with beef, potatoes, and a variety of other vegetables. The desert to the side is a plate full of chocolate drizzled, coconut macaroons! And then there's a glass of chocolate milk," Tord explained.

"Where and when did you learn to cook?" Tom asked, hesitantly reaching out to grab a macaroon.

"In Norway! I own an army Tom. Someone had to teach the first cooks how to cook," Tord replied.

"It's not poisoned, is it?"

"Why don't you eat it and find out."

Tom didn't want to eat the food, and Tord's smug smile made him suspicious. But he had to eat something, unless he wanted to collapse again.

With a shaky hand, Tom brought the macaroon he had in his hand to his mouth. He chewed it slowly at first, before shoving five other macaroons into his mouth. Tom loved the way they tasted. The chocolate and the coconut. It was delicious!

"Tord! These are really good!" Tom complimented. But then he turned his smile into a frown. "I still hate you though."

Tord shrugged. "Eh. Okay. Guess I deserve that." He then stuffed his hands into his jean pockets, turned, and walked away.

That left Tom alone in his room, a tray of half eaten food on his lap, and Tord's kind gesture on his mind.

Tord has been acting nice lately. You know this. Why are you still surprised when he does nice things for you? Tom questioned himself. He had an answer almost immediately. Because we're enemies. But Tom was unsure of that answer. I Think?

He finished his food, setting the tray down on his checkered bed sheets. Tom let out a yawn, and stretched out on his bedsheets. Who cares if he had been laying on his floor for hours? Eating made him sleepy, so sleeping was what he was going to do.

Without a second thought, Tom closed his eyes and let numbness consume his body, while memories flooded his mind.

Tom shakily held the razor to his leg. Letting out a sigh, Tom pulled it away before it managed to make contact.

"I can't do this," he groaned.

Matt rolled his eyes, giving his friend a soft smile. "You're just shaving your legs Tom. You said don't like your hairy legs, so I'm helping you get rid of the hair! Trust me, if you do it right it's perfectly fine."

"And if I do it wrong?" Tom asked.

"You'll get a few small cuts that itch a bit. Nothing to worry about," Matt assured him.

Tom gave an awkward smile towards Matt, before directing his attention back towards the razor in his hand. He lowered it down to his ankle and slowly guided he razor halfway up his calf.

"Good job!" Matt complimented. "Now you rinse the razor off and continue to do that on both of your legs."

"Just my calfs? Or do I shave the same way on my thighs too?" Tom questioned.

"Pretty much the same thing on your thighs. You doing okay?"

Tom nodded, humming a soft song as he continued to shave his legs. This was easier than he thought it would be! And he thought his legs looked and felt nicer.

"Whatta think Matt?" Tom asked, posing dramatically, running a hand over one of his smooth legs.

Matt looked for a minute before smiling. "They look nice! Not as good as mine, but nice!"

Matt posed dramatically as well, before the two teens burst out laughing.

"What the hell are we doing?" Tom asked in between laughs.

Matt tried to answer but ended up snorting, which caused them to laugh even more.

Two teenage boys, hanging out, laughing, shaving their legs. Just doing normal teenage boy stuff.