Strawberry Panic {TomTord}

Thanks, I hate it

A/N: I'm back from Con! It was great! I got to see Tom and Elliot. We talked for a bit, I was heckin' nervous and my gf told him, "Oh yeah, my boyfriend has been gay for you for years now." Got a hoody and a signed poster. We fucking hugged. I tried not to cry.

Life is good.

—
Tension all but sucked away and feeling very much lighter in spirit, the duo settled into an easy line of chatter. It was borderline flirtatious, bouncing off each other with awkward one-liners that would make the other cough back laughter. Finding it easier than their earlier interactions, Tom revelled in the attention, grinning widely when they took turns to recite their favourite vines.

Searching for their other friends took a backseat as the rest of the world seemed to disappear into nothingness, feeling every inch of content as they got lost under the several layers of snark and irony. Walking side by side, arms brushing as they swayed.

They ignored it as best as they could.

Finally, when the couldn't put it off for much longer, they resolved to slowly start scoping out their missing roommates. Taking the escalator at a leisurely pace; Tom tried not to think about how much he actually liked spending time alone with Tord.

It was a new layer of weird on the already pretty tall cake of bullshit feelings.

Sexual entanglement is something that he can get used to- he knew the rules and he could play them in his favour. But commitment? Sharing feelings, and wanting to spend extended periods of time together? That was awkward, uncharted territory; something that he really hadn't considered before.

Being the quiet, independent person that he was; he never particularly felt comfortable enough to keep relationships going. People, in general, were just particularly draining to be around. Instead, he preferred a few close friends that were relatively low maintenance and long periods of thoughtful, drunk solitude.

So, when feeling the need to break that habit; to suddenly long for lazy Sunday mornings full of half-dressed cuddling, and domestic loving face kisses, it left him feeling off-centre; uncertain. Especially when considering it was for someone who he had begrudgingly known for a very long time- someone who he didn't exactly have good memories of.

It made him want to reevaluate as to just how gay he really is.

But maybe that's what he needed?

For a relationship, especially during the beginning, everything is almost always guaranteed to be a stiff, embarrassing mix of obnoxious lies. Building yourself up in your partner's eyes, promising a version of yourself that you wished were true, but will never quite be; a disappointment waiting to be discovered by the both of you.

But with Tord, that would be different.

They had known each other for years, from playground fights to teenage angst. Beaten and bruised, they have torn each other apart and watched as they slowly sowed themselves back together. Through the bad and the good, the start of their relationship has been left long in the past, it's something that cannot be changed.

Most people usually, insistently, viciously recount the times in which they had dated a former friend, how it had ruined them, and that to never do it, under any circumstances.

But really, can you destroy a friendship that didn't exist in the first place?

Squinting, Tom could vaguely make out the familiar shapes of his friends. Outside of the nearby ice cream pallor, between the young families and gaggles of teenage girls, they were situated on small metal chairs, opposite each other. Banging their fists softly against the rickety tabletop, they struggled to stifle their laughter; faces red and grins wide in obvious happiness.