More Than Enemies {TomTord}

two

Tom's eyes slowly opened to be met with dull grey ones.

"aH!" he screeched and sat up quickly, his head colliding against Tord's.

"Holy shit!" the other yelled, pulling away and rubbing his forehead in pain. "What the hell!?"

"No! 'What the hell!?' to you!" Tom hissed. "Why were you so close to me!?"

"I was trying to wake you up!"

"By kissing me!?"

"I wasn't gonna kiss you!"

"Liar!" Tom narrowed his eyes.

"Fuck off, Jehovah's," Tord scowled. "Anyway, we're here."

"Finally." he got out of the car and stepped out, closing the door behind him. "You live in an apartment?"

"Yeah. Got a problem?" Tord raised an eyebrow.

"No, why do you assume- whatever."

Tord triumphantly walked inside the building with Tom following, obviously holding his suitcase. They climbed up endless staircases before coming to a stop at one of the rooms. Tord grabbed the keys from the pocket of his black jeans, looking for the right one.

"Hurry up," Tom complained. "My arm is dying."

"Why don't you die along with it?" Tord glared at him.

Tom didn't have an answer, so he only mocked him in a high-pitched voice.

"That's what I thought, drittsekk."

Before Tom could say anything, Tord opened the door and stepped in. He flipped the light on and tossed his keys onto the kitchen counter.

"Home sweet home!" he threw his arms in the air.

The apartment was small but cozy. A couch was placed in the right corner, along with a coffee table and TV in front of it. On the left was the kitchen. Then, down the hall was what Tom assumed to be Tord's room, the bathroom and the laundry room.

"It's small, like your dick," Tom smiled, placing his bag on the carpeted floor.

Tord whipped his head around and looked at him sharply. "Shut the fuck up! My dick isn't small!"

"Yeah, dream on, commie," he waved him off. "So where do I sleep?"

With a sigh, Tord looked over at his room. "Well. Not my room."

"Right, thanks so much. Couch, then?"

"Yeah."

"Okay," Tom shrugged. "Where will I put all my clothes and shit?"

"In my room, or the laundry room," Tord replied.

"Laundry room." he said quickly.

"...okay. I'll take your luggage there, then find a blanket."

Tom nodded and watched as Tord walked off. He stretched and flopped onto the couch, laying on his back and yawning. Welp. I'm gonna stay with the commie for the whole summer. I should've snuck into Edd's luggage or something. Tom sat up and gazed around.

His eyes settled on a bunch of hentai magazines that were strewn on the coffee table. Classic. He's such a pervert.

Tord walked back into the room, noticing his hentai. His face flushed red and he quickly grabbed it and hugged it to his chest. "You saw nothing."

Grinning, Tom leaned back into the couch and kicked his feet up onto the small table.

"Heyheyhey- no feet on the table!" Tord scolded, smacking Tom's head.

"Don't touch me!" Tom barked and slapped the commie's hand away.

"Then listen to my rules, Jehovah!"

"I don't even know your goddamn rules!"

"Fine. I'll tell you them, then!" Tord sat down next to him. Tom scooted away, earning a roll of eyes. "No feet on the coffee table, or kitchen table. Clean up after yourself. No touching my hentai- or guns." Tord continued listing things, until, "and absolutely no going in my room unless given permission. Got that?"

"Got it." Tom nodded. I'm so gonna go in his room without permission.

"Good." Tord was a little bit suspicious but he stood up anyway. "I'm gonna go take a shower. Don't do anything stupid." He walked away with a glance over his shoulder.

Eh.. i'll do it another day, i'm too tired. Tom rubbed his eyes and realized that Tord never brought him a blanket. "Idiot.."

He laid down on his side and rested his head on a pillow. He curled up and closed his eyes. A few thoughts bounced around in his head before he fell into a deep sleep.

--Time Skip--

Tom woke up the next morning. A blanket was draped around him, and he frowned a bit at that. That's weird. I don't remember him giving me a blanket..? He shrugged the thought away and sat up with a yawn.

The smell of bacon filled his nostrils and he couldn't help but smile. Tom looked at the kitchen, seeing Tord cooking.

"Well, well, the commie can cook," Tom snorted. He swung his legs over the side of the couch and stretched out his arms.

"I always could, genius," Tord muttered sarcastically.

"Hmph. Hey, uh.. did you give me this blanket?" Tom asked.

"Y-Yes, why?" Tord seemed to falter.

"You caaaare about me~?"

"N-No! I hate you! You just... looked cold!"

"Hm... Okay, well, I hate you too," Tom yawned and ran a hand through his hair. "Can I take a shower?"

"Why are you asking me? I'm not your mom," Tord placed the still-sizzling bacon on a plate.

"I just don't want to be a rude guest, like you," Tom gave a small smile.

"I'm not even a-! Just- fuck you, I give up."