TomTord Oneshots

The Fuse Of a Firework

It was Bonfire Night. Also known as Guy Fawk's Night. Tom, being the Jehovah's Witness he was, never really invested much in the annual holiday until he began living with his friends. Honestly, it was a little fun. At least he didn't have to deal with tacky Christmas trees or frosted snow considering it was in early November. Rather, it was a day littered with significantly large bonfires and pretty fireworks in the sky. A night of light. Yet he instead spent his time on the rooftop of their house, waiting for the firework show to start as his friends cooked a late-night barbeque to celebrate.

Of course, he doesn't really suppose Edd or Matt even care about the history of the holiday, they only use it as an excuse to stay up late and have a dumb midnight feast. For Tord? Well, the exciting name "Bonfire Night" is enough for him to participate. Maybe even hope to burn shit in a fire, commit arson on some neighbors cat and fuck I really needed to stop thinking about that commie—

Tom shook his head, leaning back on the cold roof tiles. Maybe the main reason he climbed up on the house was to clear his mind of things, to clear his mind of him. It was relaxing of course, the chilly breeze whispering against his skin as Tom was able to see the cascade of bonfires scattered across his neighborhood, the moonlight shyly hiding behind the dark clouds, and especially the stars that circled around the entire world; reflecting brightly on Tom's voids.

He needs to spend his nights here more often. The distant city lights really completed it all.

Before Tom could rest his eyes however, familar footsteps rang in his ears.

Tom glanced up, gazing at the large man that towered over his body completely.

He sighed.

"What are you doing up here?"

A glint of a sly smirk spread across the man's face, disappearing as he took a seat right next to Tom. "Simple. I finished my hentai, and then came outside to watch the fireworks with you."

Tom scoffed with disgust, turning back to the nightsky. "I expected you to be burning houses down by now."

"It's cute that you think of me."

A light pink spread across Tom's face. Nonetheless, he said nothing back and returned to focus on those gleaming stars. Maybe ignoring the Commie would make him go away.

And that would soon prove to be true. The skies were far more interesting than some Scandinavian Communist. Tom could make out a few constellations, awe at the way the stars almost spun around Tom's vision. Perfect. This is what he came here to do; to forget about Tord and just relax. To clear his mind of his problems and get lost in himself. Just perfect.

They laid in silence for a while. A short while.

Inevitably, Tord opened his mouth.

"Doesn't this remind you of something?"

"Hm?"

"When you tried to shoot Santa with.. What was it? A rocket launcher?" Tord laughed, hands pressed against the tiles as he turned to Tom. "How about you try not to fall in the chimney this time."

Oh, those were funny memories. Embarassing definitely, but funny. Tom wonders why Tord would even bring up such stupid shenanigans now though, Tom hadn't even thought about them himself in a long time. What was even more surprising is that Tord cared enough to remember something about Tom years ago. It was heartening. Just almost.

Yet Tom scorned with a dry chuckle. "Hop off my dick, Commie. No regrets here, I'd do that shit again." He sat up from the roof, glancing back at Tord. "And this time Zanta won't get in my way of murdering my number one enemy."