Finding

(3) Conversation [Part 1]

After all, Tord did always like men who were definitely taller than him. Particularly, 6 ft. 5' since it was just the right amount of height for him whenever he'd wear six-inch heels or boots and have his partner still two inches taller than him.

That said, Tord knew beggars can't be choosers.

With the way his schedule was usually was, it would be difficult for him to find a partner and spend some time with them unlike with him being with Thomas. After all, the man was almost with him every day as his bodyguard and right-hand man save for the moments that he'd personally order Thomas to take some missions and earn some glory for the rest of the Army to take note of.

Whatever they had was just something that had happened due to their circumstance.

Nothing more, nothing less.

The Brit didn't proposition him because he had feelings. Tom was just pretty horny at that time and was too lazy to look for somebody else.

He was just chosen to be Tom's partner for the eyeless man's convenience and the other was likewise for him.

Nevertheless, that doesn't put out the fact that Tord feels like something is definitely different. Like how the Brit was gentler with him and that the man listens to him more than just immediately shooting him off with curses and complaints.

It was really perplexing.

Giving another tired sigh, Tord decided that enough was enough and was about to get out of the taller man's embrace when Thomas finally opened his 'eyes.' "Where are you going?"

"Where else would I go, Tom? I'd have to get back to work sooner or later and visit the R&D Department at a later time."

Tom then shifted at that and turned to the alarm clock by his bedside table and frowned, "It's about 4 in the fucking morning, Tord."

"So?" The silvernette questioned back as he raised a brow.

"We came to my room about 12 midnight and we slept for about four hours, Commie. Your body still needs its rest. You need rest," Tom remarked as he pulled the shorter man towards him and nuzzled the Norski's sensitive scarred neck.

Whining at the brunet, Tord felt like he wanted to punch the other when he suddenly remembered another thing which Tom said last night. So, he decided to give up and give in to Tom's wish of staying in bed. That said, he wanted a compromise from the eyeless man of answering his questions.

"Tom?"

"Yes, Commie?"

"What did you mean about not being my enemy? About not being my enemy for some time now?"

Sensing Thomas looking at him, he stared back at the other's black voids and patiently waited for an answer which had the brunet sighing.

"You know, I always liked your gem-like green eyes. They look so much like jewels. A wonderful dark green diamond that's a cut above the rest," the taller expressed with such earnestness that had Tord blinking whether the man was drunk, in a semi-state of sleep or really serious.

"I'm serious about my question, Tom. So, stop this flattery right this instant," Tord frowned in displeasure.

An amused smile flitted in the Brit's face. "I'm saying the truth, Tord. This is one of the reasons on why I don't think that I can be your enemy anymore. That, and I realized a couple of things."

"What kind of things have you realized?"

Tom then again sighed and pulled him closer, "Isn't it obvious, Tord?"