| Eddsworld - Tomtord

| Black Mambo

Tord sighed, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the clear glass. The music pounded loudly in his ear, giving him a headache that the vodka in his hands certainly wasn't helping. The bright lights blinded him, so he kept his eyes trained on the various bottle of alcohol they kept behind the counter. He squinted, trying to block out all the noise and commotion around him.

Tord was at a bar with his friends. Well, it was more like he was ditched by the two other friends to go get a room and hook up. Hell, Tord knew Edd didn't like drinking! Why the hell were they there then? Well, it kept the two occupied while they fucked at some hotel. Tom with the rows upon rows of strong liquor and Tord making sure he doesn't get himself killed.

Tom was their roommate, a roommate that Tord was quick to hate upon. He didn't hate him entirely, but he was so insufferable at times Tord couldn't help but to want to strangle the male until those stupid black eyes popped out of his head. Gory, but Tord had seen much worse gore scenes when he was younger. Surprisingly not due to the tele.

He shot a glance at Tom as he sipped a small amount of the glassy liquid. His lips turned into a scowl, his slightly flushed freckled cheeks twisting with it. Tom had his head in his arms, staring blankly ahead with a beer bottle in his hand. The light almost.. reflected off Tom's black eyes, making them seem like the ocean that borders one side of london. Full of the colorful lights of the stars and the city that watched over the black depths.

Tord instead shot that idea down with a shotgun and turned black to his drink, already thinking of some plot to just get home with Tom so he would have to deal with him for only a limited amount of time. He contemplated this, swirling the vodka around in his cup, until he felt a tap on his left shoulder. He looked up to see a clearly drunk Tom holding out his hand, a smile planted on his feet. The smile was strange, a smirk yet it was light hearted and happy. Like Tom had planned this for a while. Tord blinked, looking up at Tom with clear disdain.

"May I haave this dannce?" Tord sputtered with surprise at Tom's words. Here was Tom, his sworn enemy, asking him to dance? But his alcohol clouded mind considered it. Tom never remembered anything of what happened the night before. A little dance couldn't hurt, right? Tord sighed, placing his hand in Toms' and letting himself be dragged onto the dance floor.

He felt the anxiety slowly kicking in, realizing something he should've realized before he agreed: Tord had never danced before. He didn't know what the fuck he was supposed to do. So he stood they awkwardly, staring at the floor. Though they were at pretty much eye-level, Tord was at most an inch taller than Tom, so he often used that to his advantage. Now, though, he wished he was shorter than Tom, so he'd be staring at Tom's feet instead of his forehead.

Tom seemed to get Tord's sudden nervousness, making the first move and setting his hands on his waist, moving Tord's hands to his shoulders. Tord gulped, swallowing down his pride as well as his dignity, and moved his body, stepping in sync with Tom and letting him lead them along.

"Slow down," Tom murmured against Tord's ear, causing him to shiver. "It's a science." They moved slowly, gracefully, Tord finding himself actually enjoying it, despite the person he had chosen to dance with. But they always say the first time is always the best. Then, Tord gasped as Tom's fingers found their way under Tord's hoodie, as well as his shirt, and lifted it up slightly. He bit his cheek as a wild blush raced it's way up his neck and spilling into his cheeks as Tom set his fingers on Tord's now bare skin.

He felt themselves stop, realizing that they were in the middle of the floor, a small crowd around them though no one was really paying attention to them. Tord wondered why the two had stopped, until he realized that Tom was leaning his face up to his. His silver eyes widened, but he made no move to move away as Tom pressed his lips up against Tord's.

Tord sputtered, unsure of what to do. Sure, he'd kissed, but the person was always, say.. aggressively dominant. He'd never had a kiss where the kisser's lips were soft, moving slowly and expecting the other's to run away with them while a cow jumped over the moon. So Tord did just that. He let his eyes flutter closed, moving his  lips in sync and sighing into the kiss. But just as quickly as it came, it was gone. Tord opened up his eyes to see the faint glimpse of a blue hoodie disappearing into the crowd.

Tord sighed, pushing into the sea of bodies to find the blue-hooded male.

Tord sat hunched slightly over the table, watching the daily morning routines of his housemates. Edd was eating some cereal, make-up doing a bad job to cover the hickeys littered on his neck. Tord mentally rolled his eyes. They should just tell them already so Tord can win the bet he made with Tom and get a free twenty-three pounds! But no, they had to keep a secret, keeping poor Tord with no free money and win from Tom.

Matt was sitting across from Edd reading a newspaper. When he read them I had always assumed he was just reading the comics, but he was actually following the latest politics, surprisingly enough. Tord had known Matt wasn't stupid for a while now, though he still wondered why the guy ever kept up the act in the first place.

TOm was sitting on the counter by the toaster, waiting for his toast while simultaneously rubbing his temples trying to calm the headache that was surely rolling around in his head by now. Tom and Tord were like exact opposites. One liked red, one liked blue. One preferred day, the other preferred night. And how they handled alcohol was no exception. Tom could drink like a sheriff, he seemed to never get black-out drunk. But when he woke up the next morning he wouldn't remember a thing and had a monsterous headache. Tord, on the other hand, could barely drink a glass and a half of vodka without passing out drunk. But Tord had no hangovers and always remembered what happened the night before. It was like a curse.

And that curse was in play right now, as Tord had suddenly choked and spat out his water. He remembered a certain moment, feeling his cheeks get lit on fire not only form embarrassment but from the feel of the others.. Tord didn't even want to dwell on that, as it only made the room feel hotter. He got up, quickly snatching a rag hanging on the over handle to wipe up the mess.

"Tord, are you okay?" Edd's voice sounded worried, so Tord lifted his head to nod and smile before slinging the rag over the oven handle again. He watched as Edd and Matt shared a glance, then announced that they were going to a coffee shop and would be back soon. Tord contemplated yelling something vulgar as they left but quickly decided against it.

An awkward silence fell between the two, the only sound being the toaster slowly cooking the piece of bread that inhabited it. Then, Tom suddenly perked up. "Tord." Tord turned to Tom, confusion lighting his silver eyes.

"What happened last night?"

If Tord was drinking water right now, he'd have choked again. Instead of something so dramatic, he stuttered out a few syllables as his mind raced to find an answer. Tom growled, his midnight eyes narrowing as he stared holes into Tord's face. "I swear to god Tord if we fucked I will burn your hentai, and then you."

Tord jolted, gripping the hem of his pajama bottoms. "We didn't fuck!" He squeaked out.

"Then what did we do?" Tom spat.

"We, um, we uh, dan-medhmn.." Tord mumbled the last part of the poorly constructed sentence, feeling his face go from just fire to fucking lava.

"We what! Tord spit it out!" Tord flinched, feeling Tom getting angrier at the second, and him getting a bit angered as well. He sighed, letting go of the soft pants he was wearing and bringing his hands up in defeat. The shivered, as if they were afraid of the wraith that Tom would put onto them if Tord didn't act fast.

"O-okay, okay! You were drunk we danced and then you kissed me and I took you home and you passed out!" It all came out in a fast breath of gurgled words as his face went a red so bright he'd light the way better than Rudolf. Tom's breath hitched but he was able to hide it well as he stared daggers at the flustered devil-boy, giving him the silent command to get out of his sight before he'd do it himself.

Tord got the message, pulling on the collar of his white cotton-shirt with a nervous smile. Tom swore he could see glass beads of sweat on his forehead. He stepped back, the smile seeming to get wider as he cringed under Tom's glare. "I'm just gonna.. leave! To my room! Yeah, um.. bye." Tord wasted no time in twirling around and sprinting back up the stairs to his room.

Tom sighed, reaching over the counter slightly to pull the toast out of the toaster and onto a small china plate. The china was fake, simply white with that weird gloss that leaves a weird taste in your mouth afterwards. Tom sighed, letting a slight blush creep on his cheeks as he as well remembered what happened that night.

Oh, what Tom would give if he had the courage to tell Tord he wasn't drunk that night.

| OOf, sorry for the two-day wait. I was working on this yesterday and I ost motivation so I moved it to the next day to complete. Soo, yeah.

| Next up is a one-shot that's not song related for one of my favorite books We the Living by Ayn Rand! Yes, this is for song-fics but I hate creating more books than I need. I may create another one for just writing dump but I'll keep it here for now! See you next time.

| 1791 words