Finding

(9) Cry

Summary:

Tom finally comes back from his 1 week excursion and he and Tord spend some time together.

Beginning Notes:

Hello, everyone.

Just giving a heads up here that Tom can understand, read and speak Norwegian. The reason for which is that his 8 years of staying by Tord's side had him learning the language to get a better understanding of the Norski.

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Tord was busy, standing at the balcony of his home, with looking over a couple of last-minute documents that need to be approved before the year ends so when January comes things are ready. He was checking whether anything was amiss and what possible improvements could be made to existing programs when he felt two hands block his sight.

Unbiddenly, a smile got its way onto the silvernette's face and he leaned back at his captor's hold. "Welcome home, Tom," he greeted as those said hands went down and held his hips.

"I'm home," the Brit answered back and peppered kisses at his sensitive neck.

"Nggh...Tom." Tord moaned and nearly dropped the documents that he held.

"Shhh...I'm here, Commie," Tom cooed as he massaged the Norwegian's hips and pulled the shorter man out of the balcony and into the living room. The documents were then plucked of Tord's grip and placed on a nearby table to settle the two of them on the sofa.

After which, the brunet began to take off the eye patched man's clothes and kissed every part of the other's skin. And along with each kiss, Tom also decided to say a few things. "I missed your voice." Kiss "your smile" kiss "your hands" kiss "your body" kiss "and the way you call out my name."

Tord gasped at the sudden harsh bite on his nipple and squirmed as the taller man's hands roamed his body. "Tom~~~" the silvernette whined and hated the fact that the Brit could easily turn him into putty.

"My love. My darling sweet little, Commie," Tom purred as he gave Tord's erection a couple of pumps before getting his now wet fingers touch the Norwegian's waiting entrance.

"It's fine. Put it inside now. Need you inside," the silvernette babbled as he tried to get the brunet's dick out the confines of his pants and put it at his entrance.

At that, Tom growled and forced the squirming Norwegian to still, "It's been days since I last touched you, Tord. I won't hurt you just because you were impatient in wanting to get fucked."

The eye patched male was displeased at being told off and smacked the Brit's shoulder with his metal arm. "I'm not made of glass, Tom. I—ah— could handle you."

The brunet merely snorted at Tord's words and finally pushed his finger in as he opted to stretch the displeased Norski. "I'm not saying that you're made of glass or that you can't handle me, Tord. All I mean is that I'd rather spend my time with you without getting you hurt since I love you," the Brit reasoned out which had the silvernette shutting up in conscious guilt.

"Fine..."

Tom then reveled on how tight and willing Tord's hole was as he curled his long finger to caress and massage the throbbing walls that sucked him in. The heat that he felt inside and how Tord was getting all too wet for him had the Brit adding another finger to stretch and scissor the said passage until he was finally able to touch upon the fleshy knob that made the Norski moan so loudly for him.