Chapter Text
26 September, 2006
Tord kicked a pebble across the sidewalk as he sauntered along, watching it skip, skip, sink into a nearby drain. The sound of it hitting the water was drowned out by the cacophony of street noise as the rushing cars flew by. For living in such a quiet neighborhood the streets surrounding their house could be rather busy. However, Tord didn’t mind the noise; he relished in it. Something, anything, to occupy his senses was what he needed. It’s been a long day. Tord ran his hand through his golden brown hair as he looked down at his watch. It was almost five. Usually at this time he’d be peacefully relaxing on the couch, either by himself or with his friends, reading a manga. The thought made him shiver, or maybe it was the chilly breeze picking up.
His freshly finger-combed hair flew around his face as an abnormally strong gust blew past. Tord agitatedly threw his hood over his head as he felt droplets of water begin to descend onto him. Guess that means it's time to head home.
“Home.” Tord spoke softly. It sure wasn’t going to feel like that after tomorrow.
Tord picked up his pace as he hurriedly walked that direction, the familiar Durdam Lane street sign coming into view. Not a minute later, cream walls and a red roof followed. The rain was now pummeling the Norwegian man’s hooded form as he ran toward the house. He slipped, before quickly catching himself and marched into the building. Discarding his soggy shoes at the door he made quick work of talking off his hoodie, placing the soaked fabric on the coat hanger. He wrestled with his socks before too, plopping those down by the door.
“Matt, Edd! I’m back!” Tord announced to the abnormally quiet house.
With no response Tord wrestled with the idea of yelling again for his friends. He ultimately decided against it, they were probably just doing their own thing in their rooms. Tord walked down the hall to his respective room, leaving a trail of watery footprints in his wake. He opened the door and wandered over to his closet where he plucked a red hoodie from its contents. Throwing it on he then laid down on his bed with a huff. He could really use a puff right now. Too bad he’s out of cigars. Turning his body to face the window he watched the rain pelt the outside world. Ironically this was the perfect weather for how he was feeling; melancholy and quite frankly, a bit hurt. The events that transpired this morning were… Less than enjoyable. Not to mention he made a fool of himself in front of his friends.
“Stupid Tom.” Tord mumbled into the crook of his arm.
It was all Tom’s fault. I never would have gotten attached if I’d known he’d decide to just leave. Tord mentally scorned himself; but deep down he knew that wasn’t true. He’d always been attached to Tom. Whether through friendship or this situationship they’d gotten themselves into, he always liked him. His comical way of handling things, the way he jabbed at Tord with his witty remarks, even his smarts hidden under that brooding persona. All of it was… So Tom. I hate it. I hate him.
Suddenly, the Norski heard the front door begin to rattle open and the sound of familiar voices could be heard chatting and joking.
“Good thing I brought my umbrella or else my hair would have been ruined!” Matt voiced exuberantly.
“I’m just glad we didn’t get struck by lightning… Again.” Edd replied as he shook the rain water from his hair. The droplets being thrown all over the trio.
Tom shrugged, “Next time we should just stay indoors.”
“You’re just saying that because you hate anything that has to do with moving your body.” Edd remarked.
“Yep.” Tom deadpaned.
The trio's laughter filled Tord’s ears as he sulked in his bed. How could they be laughing at a time like this? Didn’t they know what was coming? Better yet, did they not know who was leaving tomorrow? He couldn’t blame them for wanting to spend this last day with Tom, but he couldn’t believe they were acting like it wasn’t that big of a deal. Even though they, quite literally, may never see him again.
They should be begging him to stay, Tord argued internally. Like I did. Yet Tom’s mind was made up. He made that very clear this morning. Tord shut his eyes as he played back the recent memory.
Tord entered the kitchen. The smell of bacon was strong and the sound of it sizzling on the stove was inviting. He looked to his left. Matt, sitting at the table. He had a beauty magazine in one hand, and in the other was a slice of jam toast. At the stove was Edd, cooking bacon. He still hadn’t put on his zip-up but instead dawned a grey t-shirt with the words Smeg Head printed on the front. Tord eyed the plate of bacon beside Edd as he approached the fridge.
“Hey buddy, get your own meat to stare at.” Edd said defensively as he shuffled the plate closer to him. Tord rolled his eyes.
“Don’t worry, Edd. I won’t steal your bacon.” Tord voiced before snagging Edd’s wallet from beside the fridge. “At least, not that type of bacon.”
Edd snatched the wallet from Tord’s grasp with a huff making Tord laugh.
“What’s so funny?” Tom’s voice rang out from the doorway.
Tord just barely turned to look at Tom before promptly looking away, searching the fridge for something to eat instead. He’d been avoiding Tom ever since he announced he was moving out two weeks ago.
“Nothing, Tord’s just being dumb.”
“Me? Dumb? Edd I think you need to get your brain checked out. I think it might have been replaced with a toaster.”
“My brain is a hamster wheel and the hamster’s name is Matt too!”
A silence fell over the group. A very awkward silence.
“...Right.” Tom spoke, “Anyway. After breakfast what do you guys want to do?”
Edd grabbed his plate of bacon and walked over to the table to sit next to Matt. He shrugged, “Whatever you want to do, Tom. It’s your last day here after all.”
Tord’s heart dropped at Edd’s words. It’s not like he didn’t know Tom was leaving tomorrow but just the thought alone made him sick. He and Tom had gotten really close this past year. What started as a heated rivalry turned into hatred with a side of begrudged friendship which overtime took the form of something much more… erotic. He couldn’t even pin down when it first happened. He just remembered how it felt; to hate someone so deeply yet want them so much more for it.
Naturally they kept their dealings secret from the others. They could hardly stand each other most days and sex just seemed like a way to get back at one another. It was nothing more than another form of rivalry. Tord said so himself. The flirting was just to get a reaction and the passionate make-out sessions were just to rile the other person up. Nothing more than enemies with a twisted idea of emotional torture. Besides, they would never hear the end of it from Edd if they told him that's what they did when they were home alone.
“Hello? Earth to Commie?” Tord’s head snapped beside him to where Tom stood about a foot away.
“Huh, what?” He said, completely taken aback by the eyeless man's presence.
“I was just saying you should come with us.”
“No, thanks. I’m busy.” chided Tord as he closed the fridge door. Even if he had a clue where they were going he still would have said no.
“Common Tord, it’s been forever since we’ve all hung out together,” Matt whined from his seat. “We’ve missed you.”
Tom awkwardly shuffled his feet before walking past Tord to the coffee maker. Edd nodded his head.
“Yeah mate, it’s Tom’s last day, we should make it count!”
“No, thanks.”
“But you like the arcade-”
“Well I don’t like him so I’m not going.”
Maybe it was a trick of his mind but Tord could have sworn Tom flinched at that. He quickly recovered, however, and continued to pour himself a cup of coffee.
“Tord! Don’t be so rude. I thought he’s your friend.”
“Not my friend.” Tom stated plainly, his back turned away from the two.
“Not his friend.” Tord agreed.
Edd looked like he wanted to say more but decided to hold his tongue. Tom gripped onto his mug of steaming coffee and sat at the table, leaving just Tord standing.
“It would be cool if you came, Commie.”
“It would be cool if you stayed, Jehovah."
Tom’s eyebrows furrowed, “What does it matter if I move out or not. It’s not like you’ll miss me.”
Oh how wrong he was. How very, very wrong he was. The red-hooded man’s face flushed with barely contained frustration. Tord watched Tom take a sip from his mug before placing it down on the table.
“It doesn’t matter if I miss you or not,” Tord stated, recovering quickly. “But you’re leaving behind your two closest friends to, what, explore London? Start a tech company? Go smirnoff tasting? We don’t even know what you're planning to do!”
“That’s none of your business!” Tom yelled.
The other two men shared a look as Tom and Tord exchanged heated words. This was clearly just going to turn into a fight. Edd rubbed his temples. Matt simply shrunk into his seat, as if slouching would make the situation disappear.
“Guys cut it out-”
“We’ve been a group since kindergarten and you want to throw that all away so you can go explore the world? What happened to being a team?”
“Shut up!” Tom shouted, “You have no idea what you're talking about.”
“No, you have no idea what you’re talking about! I mean, seriously, what kind of friend bails on his lease to go do some cryptic stuff on a whim?”
Tom pushed his chair back to stand to his feet. He stomped over to Tord and grabbed onto the front of his hoodie, glaring up at him with his pitch black eyes. Edd had a frown on his face. Matt looks uncomfortable.
“It wasn’t easy to make this choice, asshole! To leave. But I needed to make a choice sooner rather than later. I’m not beholden to you, or anyone for that matter. I’m allowed to make my own decisions and you’ve just got to deal with that.”
Tord had gone so still Tom might have guessed he’d turned to stone if it weren't for that searching look in his silver eyes. They scoured and sifted through his own void ones and suddenly Tom felt naked. He hated how one look from the Norsk could make him feel so undone.
“You mean nothing to me.” Tom muttered, no trace of emotion in his voice. Just solid, unchangeable truth. Not loud enough for the others to hear, but strong enough for Tord to get the message.
Tord’s body shook slightly with rage. “I wish I’d never met you.” Tord spat, “I wish we’d never become… Become friends.”
Tord roughly shoved Tom’s hands off himself and stormed toward the door. He threw on his shoes, not taking the time to tie them up, before storming out the door, slamming it behind him. A resounding smack echoed through the house. The trio sat in silence for a few moments before Matt broke it.
“Does this mean he’s not coming with us?”
“No, Matt, he’ll be meeting us there.” Edd said sarcastically.
Matt let out a relieved sigh,“Oh, good.”
“Idiot.” Tom shook his head as he walked over to the kitchen window. He watched as Tord stormed off, his hands in his pockets and his shoulders slumped. “What an idiot.”
Tord stared up at his ceiling with a dull look to his eyes. He’d listened to his friends talk for a few more minutes before the trio settled on a game of Uno in the living room. Tord wanted to put this morning behind him and go hang out with his friends, but something inside him had the Norsk glued to his bed. Maybe it was dread. He dreaded Tom’s departure tomorrow and dreaded having to see his face, knowing it was possibly the last time.
Tord tossed and turned in his bed until he couldn’t take it any more. He rose from the bed and sluggishly made his way over to the bathroom to relieve himself. He washed his hands then made his way out of his room. Walking down the hallway he traced his hands along the wall until it landed on the doorway to Tom’s room.
He snuck a glance over toward the livingroom—making sure they were all still occupied with their game—before opening the door. Inside it was filled with boxes. Some were labeled ‘storage’ or ‘car’, others ‘Edd’s room’ and ‘Matt’s room’. His eyes wandered over the towers of boxes before landing on his disassembled bed. Tom had probably taken it apart while Tord went off on his walk this morning. His checkered bedding was shoved into the top of an overly full box labeled ‘car’.
The red hooded man made his rounds through the room remembering all the memories that happened here. The dent in the wall? Tom slamming the door too hard. Holes in the ceiling? Throwing darts above him when he was bored. The nostalgia swept over him like a powerful wave and Tord found himself smiling. It’s a good thing Edd agreed to let Tord take Tom’s room—now he could preserve the few happy memories he had of Tom. Even if he hates his guts.
“Tord?”
Speak of the devil! Tord whipped around to look at Tom. He hadn’t even heard him come in. Tord swallowed the lump in his throat.
“Hey.”
“Sup.”
A pause.
“What are you doing in-“
“I was looking for something.” He lied quickly, “But it looks like you’ve got everything packed up.”
“It’s been packed up for three days stupid.”
Tord frowned. “Whatever, Tom.”
The Norwegian man started to walk past Tom before he felt a hand grip onto his arm. Tord quickly pulled himself from Tom and looked down at the eyeless man with a snarl.
“Wait. I think I know what you're looking for.”
Tord hadn’t expected that. He raised a brow as Tom walked past Tord and toward the pile of boxes labeled with Edd and Matt’s names. A few seconds later he produced a packing box with ‘Edd’s Commie’s room’ scribbled on with a sharpie. He handed over the box before looking up at Tord expectantly.
“Is this filled with all your secret love letters to me or what?”
Tom’s face scrunched with distaste.
“I can take that back, you know.”
“Nope! Sorry Jehovah but you’ve already handed it over.” Tord teased, and for a moment it felt like nothing had changed. Like tomorrow wasn’t even real.
Tord opened the box. He remained emotionless as he looked at the contents, his eyes raking over the familiar and unfamiliar objects inside. An old manga he’s thought he’d left somewhere, a beat up looking gun, a bloody fork and spoon, some random mechanical parts (probably stolen by Tom from Tord’s tinkering table in his room) a yardstick and most of Tord’s socks. He raised a brow up at Tom.
“I didn’t steal all of it, if that’s what you're thinking.” He said nonchalantly, “I found most of it when I was cleaning out my room.”
Tord hummed in acknowledgment before pointing to the utensils. “Are these from when we killed all those zombies?”
“From three years ago? Yeah.”
Tord cracked a small smile, “Why do you even still have these? They are covered in blood. They are useless.”
The blue hooded man shrugged as he looked down at the utensils. They really held no meaning, like a small bug or trash on the sidewalk, but it meant something to him when he looked at it; and a part of him wanted Tord to feel the same way about the objects, that it would make Tord think of Tom. Tom breathed out a sigh before looking away.
“I don’t know. I just couldn’t get rid of them.”
Tord noted the somber tone in Tom’s voice. Was he… sad? “I didn’t take you for the sentimental type, Thomas.”
Tom didn’t reply. Instead, he simply shrugged again, avoiding Tord’s gaze. There was a brief pause before Tord picked the conversation back up. “You should stay-”
“Stop.”
“I mean it! You clearly don’t want to leave so why go?”
“You don’t understand- You couldn’t understand.”
“Then make me understand.”
Tom looked up at Tord with a quizzical gaze but Tord held steady. It felt like forever when Tom spoke again. “I… I can’t Tord. I just need time. To go out. To find myself.”
For a moment Tord was at a loss. He’d really tried everything he could to convince Tom to stay. He’d played every card in his hand and still the house won. It didn’t feel right. Tom leaving didn’t feel right.
“Did you mean what you said this morning?” Tord breathed, “About me meaning nothing to you?”
Tom’s breath hitched. Of course he hadn’t meant it, he just said something mean in the heat of the moment. He wanted it to be true, that he’d never felt anything toward Tord other than hatred, but he’d be lying to himself. He didn’t respond immediately, but when he did his voice came out low and sure.
“No.” Tom voiced, “You’ll always mean a lot to me.”
It was the answer Tord wanted to hear, but it wasn’t what he needed. He needed something to confirm his standing; that Tom really didn’t care about him or his friends feelings. That he wanted them to suffer while he went off to explore the world. Tord was heartbroken and frustrated, but a small voice inside told him he was just wallowing in his own sadness. His friends would be just fine after Tom left and it was just him making a big deal about this because his fuck-buddy want’s to move away.
His brain was like a tornado of thoughts all colliding with one another. He could feel a headache brewing.
“I wish I meant enough for you to stay.”
Tom’s frown deepened. A voice filled the room.
“Tom, Tord! Dinners ready!” Matt yelled joyously from the kitchen.
Tord looked down at the hardwood flooring beneath his feet. He had a sour look on his face. Tom crossed his arms.
“I'm gonna go eat dinner. You should join us.”
Tord turned his head to the side to look out the window. He took a breath before responding.
“No. I’m okay. Go enjoy your last meal with your friends.”
Tom made no effort to protest as he gave Tord one last look over before exiting his bedroom. When he reached the doorframe he paused. He looked over his shoulder at the Norski.
“I’ll save you a plate.”
Then, he walked away.