Finding

(2) Office Talk

Summary:

After a few days of burning down the Lab, Tord tries to talk to Thomas and gets something else instead.

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It was odd.

After returning from Canada and blowing up one of the Larsson Pharmaceutical's secret labs, Thomas had been silent.

Too silent if anything.

The Brit would stare at him as much as he was allowed and it was definitely starting to unnerve him.

"Why don't you just take a picture? It'll last longer," the Norwegian joked as he wanted to dispel whatever thick tension that was there encroaching his office.

"You're a Larsson," the brunet suddenly supplied which had the leader of the Red Army pausing his work.

"What nonsense are talking about, Thomas?" The silvernette feigned with both innocence and disinterest.

"You're a Larsson, Tord. My other self, Tamara, did mention about your counterpart being called as a Tori Larsson."

Putting down his work and leaning back to stare at the Brit's 8-bit eyes, Tord calmly responded to his companion, "You know my name, Tom. You, Matt and Edd know that I am Tord Athanasia Obelia. Heck, the three of you guys have even met my father and know that his surname is also Obelia."

"But—"

"Tom, look. I don't even understand where you got the idea that I'm a Larsson and how that is connected with us destroying one of their laboratories. I mean, if all the staring was just for that assumption of yours, then you'd be sorely disappointed."

Thomas only further seemed to be frustrated by such a response which was why it was no surprise that the brunet sighed loudly in exasperation and marched loudly towards him. "You're really acting like a huge pain, Tord, even if I'm doing this just to help you."

The Norski snorted at such a statement and challenged back, "Help? I don't currently need your help in anything right now, Thomas."

"Shut the fuck up, Commie," the annoyed man growled out as he stood right in front of the silvernette's seat and turned it towards him.

"Why don't you make me, Jehovah?" Tord goaded as he defiantly stared at the Brit's rising anger.

"If that's what you want then so be it." Tom snarled as he pulled the eye-patched man up and kissed him fiercely.

With that things just escalated.

Tord knew that what's about to happen is wrong in all the sense of the world since A) they're still at his office B) someone might just walk in on them even if its about 11 ass o'clock in the night C) he shouldn't be allowing his former friend, currently subordinate/rival fuck him considering what they are, this is all just messed up. And yet, even with all these reasons, Tord couldn't stop himself from moaning out the visored man's name while he ground down his naked ass along the other's still clothed hips.

It was unfair.

Definitely unfair.

When did Thomas bloody fucking Rodgewell ever gained such an effect with him?

Heck, back before he left the idiot trio, he and the Brit always fought and never even had of any sexual interest towards each other. But now why?

A single kiss could make him breathless. A single touch could make his skin tingle and feel like on fire. And right now?