tomtord oneshots

make him blush >///<

pt1 (fluff)

written a while ago and started to rot in my drafts, i edited it a lot but .. idk!! whateve

ooc (both) sorry.. and weird premise written weirdly but pls 😢plsss

tord just wanted to see him blush, no feelings. but as he continues to try pry it out of tom, he falls in love. (and as stupid it may be, he never realises)
-

Tord watched Tom.

The red clad man was settled on the couch. His legs were pulled up to his chest, his body faced inward the armrest so that his legs didn't awkwardly dangle off the obnoxiously red material.
Beside him was a napping Tom. The eyeless man, too, was facing inward, so the two were basically facing eachother on the couch.

Tom's legs were spread; one leg placed lazily on the backrest somewhere, while his other foot was planted onto the ground. He was.. basically intensely manspreading. Gross.

The brit was apparently having the nap of his life; his head was tilted back, the armrest stopping him from craning his neck back all the way and saving him from a potential sore neck. Drool was beading at the corner of his mouth, threatening to spill over and tickle his (admittedly) patchy stubble. His hoodie was strewn across the ground somewhere- to prevent that terrible feeling of twisted clothes around his body and limbs as he shifted around in his nap. This only left him in his baggy grey shirt and some loose-fitted basketball shorts.

Perhaps Tom was a little too comfortable. His shirt was lifted, and his hand was tucked under his shirt to unconsciously try scratch his stomach as he snored.

... Tord was a sucker for that happy trail peeking from the rim of his shorts.

Before his eyes trailed down any further, Tord forced himself to rip his eyes off of Tom's napping self and onto the TV. His neck was craned all the way to the right; if he moved his body, it would draw too much attention to him.

The horned male's face was beet-red; he honestly felt ashamed- watching his own roommate sleep like that. He was officially a fucking weirdo.

Tord guessed that God wasn't on his side today, because that was exactly when the Brit decided to groan and wake up. The snoring stopped as Tord watched with his peripheral vision; Tom was looking at him, a dazed, unfocused expression on his face as he wiped the drool off of his cheek.

"... Mornin'." Tom groaned, voice raspier and deeper than usual. Tord hummed in surprise, very quiet as to not startle the other. He really wasn't expecting Tom to talk. He didn't want Tom to talk.
Tom wasn't a very talkative guy, after all. Why was it now the brit decided to practice his social skills?

"Good afternoon to you, too," The norse replied, response smooth as butter. His face was blank, but the colour of it slightly gave away how embarrassed he may be at the thought of analysing his roommate just minutes before. Not like Tom would know, anyway.

Tom raised both his eyebrows slightly, scratching at his chin. The oddly loud scratch of his patchy beard sent shivers down Tord's spine. "Well... Afternoon, then." The horned man could absolutely feel Tom's gaze on him, even through his black eyes. He was honestly sweating under the pressure. "How long was I out?" Tom spoke up again, voice still low from his chords not being used for so long.

"It's 3:00pm. I'd say roughly.. 2 hours.. I think," Tord's gaze explored around the room, trying his absolute best to act cool. As he stared at Ringo near her food bowl lick herself clean, he thought back to when exactly Tom fell asleep, "..Edd and Matt left while you were asleep to buy something, I forgot what." Fuck.. did he talk to much? Why was he thinking about how he looked infront of Tom, anyway?