Another way out

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It was a usual night for Tom, ever since Edd ended up hospitalized from a game of baseball gone wrong. All in all, Matt was at fault, but Tom couldn't admit that... No.. He was just oblivious, and ignorant, the smallest thing could bring that man to tears and Tom wasn't going to be the reason . So the brunette Brit let it slide.... this time.

In the moment of utter depression, Tom stumbled out from his favorite bar to which he was one of the regulars; a single bottle of Smirnoff in hand. His mind was completely clouded, except for the single thought of, 'I wish I could pass the fuck out right now.' So with that in mind, he indefinitely staggered among the street, making cars halt and honk their obnoxious horns for the hooded man to let them pass. Getting the signal, Tom returned back to the side walk, momentarily tripping over his own feet, the heavy smell and taste of vodka being the only thing overpowering the man's senses at the time.

"DRUNK!" A loud car passed, the driver roaring out an insult from sight of Tom and his obvious state of self. "Pffffshhhh..." Was all that the Brit mumbled before losing his balance and almost diving head first into a garbage can, nearly missing it, luckily for him it was in an alley way so the chances of people seeing his dumb acts were slim- /but/... unfortunately for him, a short black figure loomed over the drunk, holding a pistol at point blank to his head. Just then, another dark figured emerged from the shadows, darting to the brunette as the shorter one backed off. To Tom, he couldn't fully process the moment, either everything was happening too fast or too slow. Tom wasn't aware of the situation until he found himself dangling and pinned against a stonewall by his neck, there he gasped, a quick drop of his Smirnoff to the ground with a loud crash and he was in full panic mode.

"Wha-Whauh- What do you want faaa-fffrom me?!" The startled brunette choked out, kicking and thrashing around, anything to get away from these maniacs- To no avail, he then threw his hands up to clutch the other man's strong grip on his neck, trying his best to pry his throat free. Welllll... /that/ didn't quite work out either.

"Shut the FUCK up! We've already had a hard enough time trying to get this babe in our van, only to have the fuckin' bitch break loose and pepper spray us! Now you're gonna comply like a loyal little dog and let us get what we came here for!" The tallest one snarled, tightening his grip around Tom's neck. "What do you think, boss? Will this /guy/ cut it?" He inquired, turning his head slightly to meet the gaze of the shorter one. "Oh, he'll do. I don't usually turn to men, but he does have a pretty cute face and /body/." His response made the taller man snort, running a gloved hand up the drunk's hoodie and then his shirt to caress the soft skin, earning a groan of detest from the Brit, struggling for air. "Right, boss?! His body is so frail and cute- I COULD ALMOST TAKE IT ALL FOR MYSELF!!"

The taller man's boss scowled him down, taking a puff from a cigar he had lit. "I /suppose/ I can let you have the first round." The nasty, short man rolled his eyes, a bit amused to watch this 'show'. "HEAR THAT, LITTLE MAN?! COMPLY. OR /DIE/." The dark man made his point clear, releasing his grip on Tom's neck. Anxious hands were abruptly pulling down the drunk's black jeans but the smaller one was far too focused on catching his breath than trying to win this battle, knowing the fact that he was outnumbered. "N-NO! PLEASE DON'T!" Finally back to reality, Tom yelled, the taller man not giving into the other's pleads.

Suddenly, a figure in red darted towards the two men from seemingly out of nowhere, landing a swing with both fists to the head; the sight telling a tale of much training and experience... which could only mean /one/ person that Tom knew- but... Hah.. It couldn't be.... Could it?

With both men passed out with a single swing to the head, the figure dressed in red knelt down to the drunk. "Are you alright, friend?" Tom became wide eyed as he struggled against the wall to get up, seeing the figure rise with him in unison. "Oh, I didn't mean to scare you- I was just making my way to the bar then I happened to pass by at a bad time, no? Here, let me walk you home, Tom." Everything was clear now, as the figure adjusted his standing position, his face was finally revealed by some light. It was Tord. (But how...? I thought he was still in-)

Tom snapped out of his thoughts, coming back to reality yet once again to feel himself being hauled up and over the Norski's shoulder before he even had a chance to adjust his clothing. "This is the least I can do for my sudden departure-" Tom would have protested or spat some nasty comment in a heart beat but his current state of mind and the traumatizing situation he had just been through completely rendered him speechless, falling asleep on the slightly taller man. Tord could only chuckle in his Norwegian accent due to Tom's unexpected sleepiness.

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Tom tossed and turned, being welcomed by a warm and comfy surface but unsure of where he was or what was going on. Coming to, from his sleepy state, Tom quickly sat up with eyes (sockets? XD) wide to see that someone had carried him home and to his bed- Tord. Thankfully (not for Tom xD), the brit had sobered up quite a bit by now, trying to recall everything that happened but the more he tried to think, the worse his head hurt.

Ah, that's right! He hadn't eaten dinner yet, some brain food might surely help with his memory! Groggy and sluggish movements were taken as Tom rose from his bed, making his way into the kitchen. Matt was probably already asleep, he thought. After all- he needs his, quote: "Beauty sleep."

Upon coming into the kitchen, Tom skid on his own feet coming to a complete stop, it was Tord... (Ohh... That's right- This dumb-ass saved me back /there/...) Tom recited again in his head, observing the Norwegian closely who was sitting at the table, an indecipherable expression on his face. Moments of silence passed as the Brit watched his frenemy sip from a colorful mug, the strong smell of coffee filled the air.

"Are you done here?" Tom snarled through gritted teeth, crossing his arms with a glare at the other man. "What do you mean?" Tord looked up from watching the steam rise from his mug, meeting eye contact with the flustered alcoholic. "Oh, I'm sorry- Did you not catch that? I said-" The Brit was cut off by Tord raising his voice as he stood up, slamming his mug down onto the table with a 'THUD!' "Now you listen here, Tom- /I/ saved you from those bums, now the least you can do is let me finish my coffee." That was the breaking point for Tom, marching over to the Norski while jabbing a finger in his direction. "Least you can do?? LEAST YOU CAN DO?! You LEFT us! I could give a FUCK less, but do you have any idea what you did to Edd, leaving like that!?" The Brit had finally lost his temper, forcibly pushing the table into the wall to make more room for his 'speech'.

"Du ville ikke forstå ..." A soft mumble was followed by a long sigh from the slightly taller man. "What?! Too much of a coward to fucking explain yourself so ya' gotta talk like that?! YOU ARE THE WORST!" Tord was shoved into the fridge behind him by a furious Tom who took a hold of the Norski's hoodie by the collar, their noses now only inches apart. "Drink your coffee. Wash up. And get the HELL out of here." Tom emphasized his point, releasing his grip only to storm back off to his room seconds later, leaving Tord in the befuddlement of his own mind.

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---/////////-----Translations-----//////////-----))

- Du ville ikke forstå = You would not understand

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