"Come closer, i'm cold."

Tom scooted closer to the voice, eyes half-lidded, before he realized it had a Norwegian accent. He screamed and elbowed Tord in the gut, scrambling to get away from him getting tangled in the covers.

"WHAT THE HELL!?" Tord choked out as he fell onto the floor with a light thud.

"'What the hell' yourself! Why were you in my bed, you rapist!?" Tom snapped back as he tried tugging his foot out of the blanket.

Tord shakily stood up, clutching his gut. "You got drunk, you idiot!" He growled. "There was no one to take care of you."

"You think i'll believe that?" Tom crossed his arms. "If I was drunk, i'd have a hangover."

F*ck i've been caught. Tord felt sweat drops forming on his forehead. A blush appeared on his face. "W-Well..." he hunched his shoulders. "I..."

"Pervert."

"Wha--HEY! I'm not a pervert!"

"Why are you wearing my boxers, then?"

Tord looked down, noticing he actually was wearing Tom's checkered boxers. His blush only deepened.

Tom seemed to roll his eyes and patted the side of the bed. "Get back here, norski," he muttered and turned on his side.

gotta love that writers block... thanks for 12k! this chapter is trash