Unexpected(CURRENTLY BEING REWRITTEN)

chapter twenty-six

/\Tom's POV/\

Tom woke in a deep panic, flailing around at the memory of the dream. He could feel tears streaming down his cheek, but he only thing he could think of was Nick. His shoulders were tense as he flew up into a sitting position, trying to calm his breaths. He really didn't want to wake up the others - but Nick, Nick, God he was so fucking sorry. He was sweating as he squeezed Tomee Bear(no one else knew he had the stuffed animal), crying heavily, covering his mouth, the overwhelming sense of dread causing pain to burst through his chest as breathing became hard. His heartbeat pounded as he shivered violently, despite the fact it felt he was burning up, skin flushed. The room was spinning around him as he brought his knees to his chest. His heartbeat pounded, his stomach churning, pins and needles sticking in his skin. He was shivering, and it looked like he was staring through fish-eyed lens. His mouth was dry and he tried to take deep breaths.

Suddenly the lights flicked on, and Tom whipped his head towards the soft voice that carried itself throughout the room, "Tom?" Tord stood there, dazed, probably from exhaustion, "Are you okay?"

"Uhhh, yeah, hah, I'm fine, you can, like, go back to bed if you want, I'm fine," he stuttered out, voice cracking awkwardly, eyes widening. Tord furrowed his eyebrows.

After a moment of silence, Tord came rushing towards Tom, speaking quietly, "Tom, I know you're not fine. You're crying."

"I, uh, I just had, uhm, a nightmare, yeah, a nightmare," he tried to reassure Tord as the taller boy sat next to him, his eyes kind.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Tord questioned, reaching out to place a hand on Tom's knee.

Tom shook his head violently, tears still streaming out of his eyes, as he quickly replied, "No thank you, I would prefer not too."

The Norwegian paused, but nodded. "Can I hug you?"

"W-what?" he snapped to attention, confused, still frantically wiping his tears. "Oh, dear, how the tables have turned."

Tord rolled his eyes, but leaned in and hugged him, his bare chest pressing into Tom's shirt reassuringly. "You've been wearing my sweatshirt for, like, three days in a row."

"So...?"

"Maybe we should wash it?" Tord suggested, breaking the hug.

"No."

"Fine. But you're not sleeping on the couch. Get up," ordered Tord, standing up himself. Tom shakily joined him, only to feel Tord's hand grab his arm to steady him. He squeaked when Tord picked him up, hooking his arm underneath Tom's legs and back.

"Wha-what are you doing!?" he shrieked, giggling awkwardly.

"Shh, shh, you're gonna wake up Paul and Patryk!" Tord chuckled, walking towards the way he came.

"Where the fuck are you taking me?" Tom giggled more, trying to keep his voice down.

"My bedroom."

"Why?"

"So you don't have to sleep on the couch."

Tom tried to answer, but a yawn escaped through his lips, cutting him off. Tord snickered, then dropped the boy suddenly. Tom almost started panicking until he landed on soft sheets, calming down immediately. Tord shuffled into the bed as well, wrapping his arms around Tom, pulling him close.

"Night." He kissed Tom's shoulder softly, then he went silent.

Tom was slightly, just slightly, panicking.

He could feel the fact that he was flushed, and his eyes were wide, shocked that Tord had kissed him. Even if it was on his shoulder, the commie had actually kissed him. The sound of Tord's breathing was close to his ear, and he focused on the steady rhythm, trying to calm himself. Luckily, it worked, and Tom returned to normal, barely processing what happened. He shuffled around until he was facing the Norwegian, smiling softly. Putting his head under Tord's chin, he fell asleep quickly.