Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

           The gravel surrounding the farm crunched beneath their tires as the group pulled into an open spot among the other vehicles. They all crawled out of that car, cramped and groaning from the long ride, as they glanced around the beautiful English countryside. The venue, being the massive black barn just off the land's entrance, was almost a three-hour drive from the city.

           Edd stepped out of the driver's seat and into the sun, wearing a cream button-up shirt with a sandy, ecru blazer to match his same-coloured dress pants and flat cap. Followed by Tom in the front passenger seat in his slate blue suit, sitting open and loose to show the grey-tinted shirt beneath and the blue plaid tie. His ears featured bright, sky-blue plugs that matched his outfit. Tord and Matt both slid out from the back while whining about their legs being numb, Tord in a deep burgundy dress shirt, an unbuttoned collar with a black tie hanging from his arm after he pulled it off in the car, and black slacks. And Matt in a V-neck, asymmetrical high-low dress with shimmering purple satin shine, as well as some long, dangling gold earrings to go with his necklace. Everyone wore black formal shoes of some variety, aside from Matt, who had short heels to match his dress.

           It was the first wedding they'd attended in a while, so Edd encouraged everyone to dress to the best of their ability, and he was pleasantly surprised by just how clean and professional everyone looked. It was almost a little off-putting to see them dressed so nicely. Except Matt, of course, this was relatively normal attire for him.

           Tord groaned and stretched his arms far above his head, tie in hand dangling. Edd sighed and walked over to tug at his collar, reaching back behind his neck to untuck his hair from beneath it. Tord watched him button it back up and brush off his chest.

           “It's not like we're meeting the queen.” Tord sighed out with some attitude, and Edd just eyed him.

           “If you're not gonna wear the tie, at least leave this done up. It looks good. You look good,” Edd smiled, hands sliding to his shoulders. Tord was unimpressed. He was uncomfortable enough being dragged out so far, sitting in a car for three hours listening to Matt play with the fabric of his dress, and now he was expected to play nice with a bunch of people he didn't know. He wasn't exactly thrilled. Tord hummed out impassively, giving Edd a weak smile to appease him as they started walking towards the venue. Matt caught up with Tord and walked alongside him. 

           “It does look nice,” Matt said genuinely, which made Tord glance less harshly as usual in his direction.

           The barn was huge up close and was aged like wine. The people gathered around it made it look even bigger. Nothing out of the ordinary, just some extended family; it had a decent attendance of at least forty people. All very chatty and very welcoming people. Almost overwhelmingly so as the boys came to learn. They were greeted by anyone they glanced at, with an immediate interest in their lives. It was awkward, and they escaped a good few feet away from the main gathering to avoid catching the attention of anyone else.

           Matt was the last to escape, trailing a few minutes behind after getting trapped by one of the bride's third bridesmaid’s stepmom and her dead-eyed husband, who was following her pathetically.

            “A lady just asked me if I was that, and I quote: ‘Beautiful transsexual who’s friends with the bride?’” He repeated, baffled, and also a little uncomfortable. “She called me beautiful.” He argued, bringing his hands to his chest in slight delight. Edd laughed, and the others snickered. 

           “Of course that's the part you care about.” Tom chuckled, hands tucked into the pockets of his trousers.

           “I’m not saying I don’t take it as a compliment. It’s just not something I ever thought I’d hear someone say out loud.” Matt cracked up. They laughed about it for a minute before dying down and glancing around while they waited to be seated.

           The property was mostly surrounded by fields, which were impressive and vast. But tucked deeper into the land and closer to the gorgeous cottage house where the bride’s parents live, was an old black barn that Edd was told by a family member hasn’t been used for anything but a conversation piece in twenty years, due to the risk of it collapsing. It was old, old. Like, the wood was painted black using tar, kinda old. This Edd all reiterated to Tom as Matt and Tord walked off further for a smoke and chat. Edd was told that it was over a hundred years old now, maintained through the generations of family that had lived on this property. The barn and home were surrounded by gorgeous black elder trees late in bloom. White flowers covered the trees in bunches, the petals drifting across the outdoor seating every so often, and they filled the air with a sweet citrusy scent.

           This place was special; they all could feel that from the atmosphere alone. It was small, intimate, and warm. It made them feel a little out of place amongst the immediate and even distant family. Like a group of cigarette-smelling hobos who wandered in looking for free food. Metaphorically, of course, as they did actually look quite nice. They all cared enough about Edd’s desire to look presentable for their friend’s big day to behave just once. Once again, except Matt, who would have looked this way regardless of whatever nonsense the group could have arrived in if they had the opportunity to dress themselves. “Like literal five-year-olds who would, if given even the slightest opportunity, choke and die on a small object; kind of useless.” Edd had put it rather lavishly during the fight before they agreed to do it. It took Tord, with his face in the carpet and his arm twisted backwards by Edd, for him to succumb to the torture of his hard and uncomfortable dress shoes as opposed to his sandals, which he originally wanted to wear.

           A booming voice erupted from inside the barn. Kim’s mother. A short and quiet seventy-year-old woman who shook Tom’s hand so gently when they first arrived, speaking loudly enough with her voice alone to be heard all around the area.

           “Come on inside, everyone!”

           It was admittedly a little embarrassing feeling so alienated. They all agreed to just get through it together with a hand in cheer, to which they discreetly but loudly whispered: “Just get drunk.” Together before joining the crowd.

           They were led in by some close family that were helping to organize everything, and directed to the rows of hay bales draped in pearly white fabric on either side of the barn. They were not as uncomfortable as they looked. They took up a section of a row, and a few people squeezed in next to them as everyone got situated. A string quartet played softly in the back of the barn, and the quiet humming bounced across the walls and filled the room. Everyone chattered quietly while the boys glanced around and admired the string lights woven into the wooden beams above them, and the lavender flowers that tangled with them. They were real; they could smell them from outside. This wedding was not cheap.

           “This is beautiful,” Edd muttered quietly. Tom, who sat beside him on the right, nodded. Matt sat to his right, and then Tord to his respectively. They all sat comfortably, but politely, not taking up too much space as the family surrounded them. Every so often, they could feel the stares and hear the muttering. 

           “It's bigger than I thought it would be,” Matt whispered to Edd, talking over Tom, who looked past him at Tord. Tord was glancing around in admiration and sitting quietly by himself, as he usually does in situations like this. Even with the breathtaking beauty of the venue, Tom could tell he was mildly uncomfortable being here. Matt entertained him with a game of sticks.

           They waited for twenty minutes before the ceremony started. The soft music transitioned into something a little louder, and everyone immediately quieted down and glanced towards the entrance as they stood. The first bride, Katya, and her father were first. She had beautiful, pale blonde hair tied up and braided with small white flowers. Her dress was a warm, creamy white, A-line style dress, with embroidered flowers throughout the transparent skirt and train. Her father wore a white suit that closely matched the style, as well as a golden brooch accompanied by a lavender stem. She walked slowly and gracefully, smiling and subtly waving at everyone. She was guided to the wooden altar at the front, where the celebrant stood in a light purple suit. Katya was then joined by her best man in a purple tux, five bridesmaids: three women in simple purple gowns, and two men in matching purple tuxedos. Each walked down the aisle and took their place on the left side with Katya. She watched with a beaming smile. Then, five more men and women dressed in the same purple walked down and stood in their place on the other side; Kim's bridesmaids. The ring bearer was Kim's mother, who walked down and joined them in her leafy, purple yoke dress. Matching with embroidered flowers hidden in the pattern of the darker fabric.

           Tord leaned into Matt and quietly whispered to him. “You look like one of the bridesmaids.” 

           “I know,” he whispered back. “I can feel people staring, like I'm gonna walk up and join them.”

           “I'll give you a tenner if you do it.”

           Matt considered it for a moment. Then they glanced at Edd, who was staring a hole through both of them. They stood up straight and quieted down with a look of brief fear as the young flower girl walked past their row, sprinkling white petals across the aisle runner. She looked around six years old.

           Then, as the music picked up and finally began, the crowd of people turned to look at Kim and her father standing in the doorway of the barn. Her dress was a cooler shade of white, in a slim-fitting sheath style. It was more minimal, but had a beautiful corset bodice on the front with iridescent laces. The same laces travelled down the back, leaving it open where a large and elegant floral tattoo was displayed. In her hands, she held a small bouquet of white roses. The only roses they had seen throughout the decor, aside from the tables outside. It was wrapped in a purple ribbon that dangled over her fingers. Her golden yellow hair, unlike Katya's, was mostly down. Curled loosely, but with a braided band that wrapped around the back and fell atop the curls. Her hair sparkled from the glitter sprinkled into it. She was beautiful. The expression she wore as she saw Katya waiting for her was even more so. Their eyes never left each other for a moment as she walked up to the altar and joined her.

           Tom glanced at Tord again, who had this look of awe on his face as he gazed at Kim in her dress. Tom snickered, and like a fifth sense, Tord snapped his head at him, already knowing what he was laughing at.

           The quartet came to a gradual stop, and the two brides stood facing each other with glowing expressions of love. The celebrant began with an introduction and welcomed the guests who had come all this way from the cities to the quiet countryside, before speaking for some time about the history of the farm and the very barn they were standing in. Edd and Matt were invested and sat while listening intently, while Tom was beginning to feel a little restless. He picked at the hay beneath him, glanced around the room, and tapped his leg. Just bored and uninterested. Eventually, the focus was directed to Kim, who was passed a card by the man behind the altar, and began reading out her vows.

           The vows were sweet and a little cheesy. She spoke about meeting Kat in college, about how she felt out of place in the city, and how Katya made the suffocating air feel less heavy. She touched on Katya’s discomfort with working out in the fields, but how she did it anyway to try and impress Kim’s father. Which it did. Kim’s father laughed from the front row. She went on and on about these small, domestic gestures, and Tom found his eyes wandering again. Looking at the decorations, the relatives, his friends, seeing Edd with tears in his eyes. It wasn’t like it wasn’t pleasant. The ceremony was charming and full of devoted passion; it was breathtaking, but Tom couldn’t help it. He always considered himself a man open to love, and marriage was something he liked to fantasize about every so often. However, he’s always had an inconsistent love life. He’s been with a few, some long, some short, but all ending in some way. Events like this were just a reminder of that. A slight twinge of uncomfortable familiarity in the back of his mind. So he looked around the room again, and as they usually did, his eyes curiously fell on Tord again.

           Tord was facing forward now, looking towards the altar with an expression that was difficult to read. Full attention with his eyebrows slightly tensed. Not his usual uncomfortable scowl. Tord didn't seem to notice Tom looking at him this time, too focused on what he was feeling at that moment. Tom was intrigued by it. By then, it was Katya’s turn, and he tuned in briefly to hear her reading from her own vows. A short and sweet promise to try and get her hands dirty even when she doesn't want to. Tom smirked at the innuendo that held as she continued reading, but when he looked at Tord to see if he had caught it too, he still just had that same look on his face. Tom's smirk diminished, picking up again as Edd nudged him with the quietest snicker. He glanced at Tord a final time before just trying to focus on the ceremony.

           After the vows, Kim's mother approached the altar and delivered the rings on a purple velvet cushion. They made their promises of faithfulness and undying devotion as the rings were exchanged. The celebrant moved closer and cupped the bride's clasped hands, pronouncing them married. Then, as he stepped aside, a photographer rushed down the aisle and kneeled just before the altar as Kim and Katya embraced in a long and passionate kiss. The crowd erupted in a cheer, clapping and whistling for the couple. The boys cheered, albeit awkwardly, while still clapping alongside everyone. The excitement continued even after the kiss had ended, and the brides stood embracing each other in the moment. Then, Katya spoke up over the quiet music and the settling clapping.

           “Anyone who is not immediate family is welcome to join the staff outside and find their seats. Our wonderful caterers have set up some tables to the left of the barn where you can help yourself to some drinks while the food is being made and while we take some photos!” She spoke loudly, using her hand to point as she did.

           The guests began to pack up and exit in lines as the chattering picked back up, while the immediate family surrounded the brides. Tord kept his attention on the crowd up front as Edd herded them towards the doors. When they were able to squeeze out and join everyone, they found their seating at the outdoor tables. Round and big enough to comfortably hold six people, the tables were a deep mahogany colour with a silky white tablecloth. Each table had a centrepiece of a clear vase with white roses and lavender, along with some small candies scattered around it. The boys dug into them immediately and left a pile of wrappers beside the vase while they claimed their spots. Edd set his cap in front of one, then Matt to his left, Tom took the seat to Edd’s right, Tord once again took the end of the row and draped his crumpled tie on the back of his chair. With their chairs claimed, they moved as a group to the mobile outdoor bar area. It was very professional and elegant, with a long, segmented and rectangular horseshoe-shaped counter area. Behind it were two barmen who were dressed just as nicely as the other staff that they saw shuffling around the place when they first arrived. Waiting in line for their drinks, they were eyeing up the chalkboard menu displayed on the far right side of the counter. There were some fancier options like champagne and wine, which were limited to two per person. But there was also a good selection of more lenient alcoholic beverages. There was a customizable area for those who preferred cocktails, and Tom couldn’t help but notice the collection of flavoured vodkas on ice behind the counters. He grinned from ear to ear when he didn’t see a limit per person on the menu. This was meant to be a party.

           As they waited, they were approached by a few family members who were curious about their relationship with the brides, as most of the people there didn’t recognize the group. They explained that Kim and Katya had moved in next door to them just a few months after the boys had settled in, and had spent the last couple of years getting to know them and becoming close friends. The early weeks were mostly spent in a pissing contest between Edd and Tord to win the attention of Kim, but that’s mostly joked about these days. Closest with Matt and Edd, Kim and Katya often came over for tea or would join them on their little adventures. They were always very patient with the antics of the group, and that was something that made the boys gravitate to them.

           A young girl with dark brown hair tied in a braid and a blue dress approached Matt and held her hands together as she gazed up at him, towering over her. She didn’t look like she could be any older than four. He looked down at her in surprise and stood awkwardly until she spoke, briefly glancing around in search of a parent.

           “Are you a vampire?” She asked quietly. Matt opened his mouth to answer, but Tom quickly inserted himself into the conversation by grabbing Matt by the shoulders and pulling him down to his level.

           “Yup, he sure is.” He said with a grin. Matt looked at him, a little startled from being thrown around, and flustered by the spotlight. Matt cleared his throat and grinned at Tom.

           “Oh, um, yes, that’s right.” He affirmed. The girl’s expression didn’t change, just staring with those wide blue eyes. 

           “Do you drink blood?”

           “Yup,” Tom answered for him. “Especially from a little nipper like you.” He said, and the little girl's eyes widened.

           Matt gasped, looking offended and worried. “Don’t tell her that.” He looked down at her. “Don’t listen to him. We, vampires, are especially friendly to kids like you.” He crouched down to her level, the layers of his dress surrounding him on the grass. “He’s just a big, scary monster who likes to trick people, don’t mind him.”

           “I’m wounded, Matt,” Tom said softly, and Matt smirked at it, amused. The little girl smiled at Matt. 

           “My brother didn’t believe me when I told him you were, because he said that vampires don’t wear dresses.”

           “Well, I bet your brother has never seen a vampire quite as pretty as me, so that’s okay. We’re not all bald, scary men in a trench coat, y’know.” Matt chuckled. The line of the bar, along with the others, moved without him. 

           By then, Edd, Tom and Tord had all gotten to the bar and helped themselves to what was offered.  Edd kept to his go-to: A rum and Coke. Tom had a vodka and cranberry juice cocktail and made a mental note to try some of the vodkas they had hidden behind the counter. And Tord just stuck with a bottle of beer. He wasn’t much of a drinker, but felt the need to participate. Matt was the designated driver of the evening, thanks to a game of paper, scissors, stone earlier that morning, so he was left behind. When they got situated and stepped to the side to look for him, they saw him bent over and being led by the hand by the little girl. He looked back at them for help, which was intentionally ignored.

           “Alright, so Matt has been taken hostage. What do we wanna do while we wait for the ransom?” Asked Edd.

           Tord shrugged and shared a look with Tom before Tom spoke up. “Drink and sit, I guess.”

           “There were some games out near the cars,” Tord interjected suddenly. Edd seemed more interested in that idea.

           Roughly thirty meters from the main venue, beneath the patchy shade of a large sycamore tree, was a section of clear grass with some games scattered about. There were two horseshoe pitching boxes dug into the ground and surrounded by logs and sand. They looked old; the metal stakes in the center of them both were spotted with rust and marks from the years of use. Surrounding them were a few other, significantly younger-looking game sets. A pair of cornhole boards painted with black designs ascending towards the hole, along with eight blue and red bags thrown about the boards. Aside from that, there was also an aged football to kick around.

           Edd picked up a blue bag in his free hand and positioned himself beside one of the boards, then smiled at Tom and Tord. “You two against me.”

           Tom and Tord both looked at each other, then took their places on either side of the opposing board. The first few rounds were over strikingly fast, with Edd getting insanely competitive immediately and scoring them out very quickly. Then, once he realized his competition wasn’t a threat, he eased up and tried to entertain the sore losers with conversation. 

           “Do you guys ever wanna get married?”

           The sudden question left them both a little stunned, only worsened by Edd instantly scoring after asking it. He pumped his arm in celebration. “Three points.” He said aloud, then drank from his cup.

           Tom and Tord shared a curious look towards each other, but Tom was the first to speak up.

           “Yeah, probably. I mean, once I find someone who would want to marry me.” 

           “You’re a good-looking guy.” Edd asserted, and Tom smiled at him as he tossed his bag. It fell just short of the hole. 

           “I know. One point. It just starts to feel a little harder to picture it the longer I go without someone to consider, I guess.” Tord eyed him subtly as he said this. Tom took a large swig from his cup, and Edd hummed in understanding. 

           “I get that. I’m still kind of on the fence about it, I think. It doesn’t feel like something I really need out of life. I could live without it.” Edd continued, tossing his bag. Just above the hole. “Bugger. Four points.”

           “You’ve always been kinda weird with the whole dating thing, though, so that does actually make a lot of sense for you,” Tom said, watching Tord toss the bag.

           “Four points.” Tord quietly added.

           “Well, I’m on the fence about that, too, honestly. Just a lot of fences in general in that area. What about you, Tord?” Edd asked as he tossed his third bag, scoring again. “Seven points.” He sang. “Eat it.” He sipped his rum and Coke.

           Tord straightened his back with an inhale as he glanced at Tom a little self-consciously, clicking his tongue off the roof of his mouth. “Um. I don’t know. Not really.”

           “That's surprising,” Tom said, tossing the bag and hitting the board. He scoffed in disappointment as it thumped hollowly against the wood. The sound of failure. “Five points.”

           “Why’s that surprising?” Tord asked, irritated.

           Edd and Tom looked at each other, and this made Tord feel more defensive.

           “Tom just means that it’s surprising that someone like you wouldn’t be more excited about it. Y’know, your dream wife that would pamper you, cook for you, fulfil all your fantasies.” Edd shrugged again as he said it, grinning and tossing his last bag. “Ten points.”

           Tord was amused, in a weird, offended way. He laughed. “Is that how you guys see me?” Edd and Tom shared a moment of mumbled affirmations, a nod, and a passive shrug. “Guys, not all the shows are like that, you’re pulling from such a small—tiny margin—” Tord rambled, making two parallel walls with his hands to emphasize his point.

           “—Hey, guys.” Matt chirped, and the group turned to see Matt standing a few feet away with a very young boy in his left arm, pressed against his hip. They all stared for a second. Then Edd asked what they were all thinking.

           “Matt, whose kid is that?” Edd said, concerned. Matt just smiled and shrugged.

           “I have no idea,” Matt said nonchalantly.

           “You should— You should probably put him back,” Tom chimed in. 

           “Oh, my god, I didn’t steal him, Jesus Christ.” Matt scoffed and looked at them in shock. “He was just handed to me by someone in a hurry. Like, literally dumped into my arms. I could have just taken this kid, and I could get away with it, too; these people seem to really trust me with their children. I really hope it’s not just because they think I’m a drag queen.” his face lit up with an evil, but sarcastic grin. “Quick, pop the trunk.”

           “Yes.” Tord shared his grin. 

           “What the hell?”  Edd shouted, appalled. “No, we would go to jail instantly. Literally no one here knows who we are, and there are like thirty witnesses; we would not get away with that.” 

           “No, you’re right.” Matt nods, looking at the kid, taking his little hand and playing with it as he talks to him in a baby voice. The baby smiled. “I’m not gonna kidnap you this time, no, I’m not. Because I don’t wanna go to jail for child abduction. And I don’t like the taste of children’s blood.” 

           “Oh, my god.” Tom laughs. “You were so against me traumatizing the other one,” He then exclaimed. 

           Matt laughs as well and looks back up at everyone. “She was older; he’s not going to remember any of this.” Matt looks back at the baby and coos at it. “Are you? No, you’re not.” He looks up at the group again and smiles, switching back to his normal voice. “I’m joking, he knows I’m joking.”

           “Matt, do you ever want to get married?” Tord blurted out, suddenly throwing Matt and the baby of unknown origin into the conversation. Tom and Edd both blinked in surprise at his interruption. Matt seemed used to it and was mostly unfazed.

           “Oh, well, this is really sudden. We should at least go out a few times before starting to take steps like that.”

           Tord scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Not to me.”

           Matt smirked and giggled. “I know. Yeah probably. I refuse to believe I would stay single past thirty. Someone’s gonna want a taste of this piece of cake.” Matt repositioned the kid more comfortably on his hip. “And, I’m amazing with kids apparently, so, baby-daddy material. I think I’d make gorgeous kids.”

           “How is my answer weirder than his?” Tord asked, gesturing to Matt in disbelief. 

           “What was your answer?” Matt perked curiously.

           Tord paused, hesitating. “That I don't think I want to.”

           “Oh, that’s surprising.”

           Tord is baffled, while Edd and Tom burst out laughing. Matt stands confused. “What? I didn’t mean it in a bad way.” Matt reassures, looking to Tord apologetically.

           “No, no, it’s fine. They’re just being dickheads. I thought we were supposed to be playing a game!” Tord raises his arm and slaps it against his thigh.

           “Yes, Tord, alright,” Edd says, exasperated as he starts collecting bags. “What was I at?”

           “Um, like eight points,” Tom said.

           “No, I wasn’t. I was at ten, you bastard,” Edd smirked, and Tom smiled evilly. Neither of them seemed to notice that Tord walked away from the game to stand beside Matt and the mysterious baby. The two of them watched them play for a while. Eventually, a woman came and scooped up the baby from Matt’s arm, then watched Edd wipe the floor with Tom before she left with the boy. They rotated the games and went back and forth to the bar, getting more drinks. Tord was just on the end of his first bottle. They were kicking around the football when they heard Kim’s mom shout for everyone to find their seats for the bride’s first dance.

Chapter Text

           They joined the masses again and found their seating as another family member they didn’t recognize stepped onto the center of the wooden dance floor with a microphone in hand, beneath the huge wooden pavilion that roofed it. He took a moment to thank everyone for coming and for putting the time aside to celebrate his beautiful sister and her amazing wife, Katya, then introduced himself as Kimberly’s brother, Alfie. He was a young fellow with bleached-blond hair, looked scarily similar to Kim's mother. He went on for a while about how much time went into putting this event together, and how worth it it was to see his sister so full of love. Then, he invited Kim and Katya to the floor. As they stepped onto it together from the sidelines, everyone clapped, and then they embraced in the center in position for their dance. They whispered something to each other out of earshot as the DJ from the small booth off to the side started to play a soft, instrumental version of a song they all recognized but couldn’t remember the name of. The brides began to sway, guiding each other in an elegant, slow dance. Their faces so close as they gazed at each other in the light of the cusping evening, the sun just now dipping past the roof of the barn and casting a cooling shadow over both of them as they glided across the floor. Their dresses disturbed the elder tree petals on the floor, picking them up and casting them back into the hands of the breeze, where they almost seemed to dance alongside them. It was magical.

           Tom glanced to Tord on his right, seeing him with a cheek pressed to his palm and his elbow on the table, watching them dance. When he saw Tom looking, Tord readjusted and scratched at his face, before resting his arm down and looking forward again. Tom didn’t say anything about it. After the dance, they returned to their big and decorated rectangular table closer to the bar, and one by one, Kim and Katya’s family took the microphone and shared their stories and gave their regards to the newlyweds. Each speech was just as corny as they expected, but undeniably sweet. Some even had the boys and the crowd chuckling throughout them. This went on for a while until the brother then announced that the food was ready and that everyone would be served at their tables.

           Dinner consisted of butter-roasted chicken with a garlic glaze, accompanied by roasted vegetables. A mix of asparagus, radishes, broccoli, onions and potatoes. Prepared on the rolling conventional cookers that the caterers had set up, making the entire place smell delicious. Each plate also came with a small side of coriander, carrot and potato soup. It smelled amazing, and a catering staff member served each table one by one on large trays, carried with two hands on either side using the wooden handles.

           Matt took one sniff and had a look on his face, which Edd noticed. “What?”

           “I forgot to mention the garlic thing, but that's okay. I brought my allergy medication, so I'll be fine.”

           “Oh, right, your hives,” Tom says as he picks up his fork and knife.

           “I'll be alright, the meds will deal with it,” Matt said, standing up from his seat. “I'm gonna go grab it from the car.” He said, holding his hand out. Edd fished the keys from the pocket of his trousers and tossed them into his hands before Matt walked off.

           “Watch him come back with another kid.” Edd grinned, and the group chuckled.

           The four of them devoured the food. Every bite was mouthwatering and tasted like it was marinated in homemade love. They found out from a nearby conversation that most of the vegetables used were grown right here on the farm, and they tasted like it, too. Rich in flavour and sweet. The garlic issue didn’t do much to dissuade Matt from destroying it either; he simply downed a pill and decided he would deal with the consequences afterwards. As they ate, they chatted idly.

           “I haven’t even had a chance to say hello to Katya or Kim yet; they’re either busy or surrounded by a wall of relatives,” Edd complained.

           “I know.” Matt sighed and leaned against the table, scratching at his wrists. “I feel so out of place. Everyone here is so old, and they all know each other. I feel like such a creep just hanging around all these strangers.”

           “Thank you.” Tom sat up excitedly. “I’m glad someone said it, it’s beautiful and all, but I feel like we aren’t meant to be here.”

           “Of course we are. They invited us, we're friends.” Edd interjected, glancing towards the table where Kim and Katya sat eating and talking. “They’re just busy,  it's their wedding. We’ll get time to congratulate them.” 

           Tom looked at Tord, who was picking at the last bit of vegetables on his plate restlessly. Edd and Matt drifted into conversation. As people finished eating, they started a father-daughter dance between both Kim and her father, and Katya and her father as well. During this, the boys got their next round of drinks and sat at their table while it played out. By the time the open dance floor segment started, the speakers outside began to play a collection of swingy pop, indie rock and country songs. The dance floor was quickly filled with the close family, from young to old, of the brides. Edd saw this as their opportunity and quickly approached the brides as they stood around their table with drinks in hand. Matt followed him and left Tord and Tom at the table, as they wanted to avoid the crowd.

           They sat in silence for a while, watching the people dance as the lights of the pavilion slowly flickered on, the sun dipping further past the barn and painting the sky in a gradient of soft orange and a cool, quickly fading blue. Tord pushed his chair out from the table and stood.

           “I'm going for a smoke.”

           “Can I come?” Tom sat back in his chair. Tord stopped and looked at him for a moment, then gave him a nod. Tom stood shortly after and grabbed his drink from the table before he followed him. They walked out past the barn and towards a barbed wire fence that sectioned off a wide field of barley. Tord found a post to lean against and dug his cigarettes out of his pocket. He didn't offer Tom one, just lighting his own and puffing on it as he gazed behind him towards the field. The barley lightly swayed in the breeze, and the setting sun blanketed the entire thing in a warm glow. Tom leaned against the post next to him, a few feet away, looking out with his drink. 

           “I'm tired of this. I wanna go home,” Tord said softly. Tom glanced at him as the gentle wind rustled the barley. The air smelled rich and nutty, like warm bread.

           “It's important to Edd,” Tom replied quietly, looking back out to the field. Tord took a deep inhale and sighed it out as he spoke. 

           “Yeah.” He took a hit from his cigarette.

           Tom held out his cup towards Tord, who looked at him blankly for a moment before closing the distance between them, taking it and offering him his cigarette in return, and they wordlessly exchanged. Tom took a deep inhale from the cigarette, and Tord took a decent swig from Tom's cup. The muffled music from the other side of the barn played behind them.

           “These kinda things always make me feel like shit,” Tom admitted faintly. Tord looked at him with just his eyes, swirling the cup in his hand towards the field. Tom was trying to fish for something, anything that would encourage Tord to talk. It seemed like it would take some more convincing, so Tom continued. “It feels like it's the universe shoving my nose in it. Like, reminding me I don't have anyone to dance with like that, to kiss me like that.”

           Tord seemed uncomfortable, but did a suspiciously low amount of protesting, so Tom wasn't worried. 

           “Edd always tells me: ‘It's never too late to find someone,’ or, ‘there's someone for everyone.’ Corny shit like that. I think he just says it to be nice. I'm sure he believes it, bless his heart, but he's never really understood the feeling of longing for that kind of company.”

           Tom knew Tord was actually listening, as evidenced by how still he was. No longer fidgeting with the cup. Tom took a puff from the cigarette between breaths. He let the silence in the air sit after that, and after a brief moment of quiet, presumed reflection, Tord drank the last of Tom's drink and spoke.

           “Is that why you drink?”

           Tom was surprised by the question. Normally, he'd bark back with a snarky, defensive comment. But the way Tord said it suggested that this question was genuine. Tom felt a little sting of shame as it was so plainly laid out in front of him. 

           “One of the reasons, anyway. It feels good not to have to worry about anything for a while.” Tom took a puff from the cigarette, and pulling it from his mouth, he blew the smoke around his hand as he studied it.

           “Is that why you smoke?” Tom paralleled, and Tord visibly had the same reaction to the question that Tom did to his. Tord shrugged.

           “I never thought about it like that before. I've always just… Did it.” 

           Tom toyed gently with the cigarette, then held it back out to Tord. Tord stared at it, almost hesitantly, before taking it again and filling his mouth with smoke.

           “I think weddings are just tacky, and big weddings are so pretentious.”

           Tord made it clear he was done with the conversation, and Tom didn't fight it. He felt a flutter of pride in his chest, as he knew that conversation in Tord's room all those weeks ago really did get to Tord. Tom made a note in his mind to prod at that later as he replied.

           “I think they're a rich luxury. The more money, the bigger and more exotic they usually are.” 

           “‘Hey, come hang out on our rich ass property in our rich ass barn, with all our servants that will bring the food right to your table!’ Pricks.”

           Tom laughed, and Tord looked at him and smiled. “What?” Tord asked.

           “What are you even mad about? It's free food and booze. And you like Kim and Katya.”

           Tord shrugged and fidgeted with the empty cup, taking the last drag from his cigarette before he put it out against the post. He flicked the filter onto the grass. “It's the principle of it, is all.”

           “Right. And definitely not because of your unrequited feelings for Kim.”

           “Oh my god.” Tord scoffed with a drawn-out exclamation. This is a subject that has been brought up more times than he could count on all his fingers and toes. 

           “I hate to break it to you, but I think you might have lost your chance with that one,” Tom said with a grin.

           “Yeah, I had a hunch the lesbian doesn't wanna go out with me, but I appreciate your genius expertise, Tom,” Tord said with an eye roll. “And you know, Edd did the same thing.”

           “Yeah, but you backed her car into the neighbour's skip bin,” Tom said through his laughter, and Tord erupted instantly and threw his hand into the air, catching the light of the setting sun.

           “They had it right in the middle of the road! And I had just gotten my license!” Tord shouted, expressive and loud, but not angry. He was amused by the conversation and was smiling the whole time he was yelling. Tom just chuckled and watched him. When Tord caught on to Tom's attention, he quieted down. “Don't look at me like that,” Tord said with an annoyed and embarrassed tone.

           “Like what?” Tom asked with a grin, shoulders relaxing. 

           “Smiling like that, all proud.”

           Tom snickered and shook his head, but responded genuinely. “Just nice to hear you talk.” The admission was affectionate, and Tord took it just as well as Tom thought he would. With a dramatic and forceful single note cackle and a snort, he punched his arm hard. Tom rubbed it and grinned as he did.

           “Shut up.”

           The air settled around them, and Tord seemed significantly less brooding than he was. After a moment, they heard Edd’s voice from behind them as he approached in a jog. 

           “There you two are.” He said in a huff as he stopped in front of them. Matt was walking towards them from further behind. “We were wondering where you two disappeared to. You should come dance with us, Katya said she'd come join us once they get changed out of their dresses,” Edd said with a smile, pointing back behind him with his thumb. Tom and Tord looked at each other, Tom with curiosity about Tord’s decision. He’s never been a dancer. But Tord grinned.

           “Yeah, okay,” Tord said in consideration.

           “Ooh, pretty!” Matt exclaimed as he finally joined them, walking between Tom and Tord to look out at the barley field with his hands behind his back. His dress absolutely sparkled. Edd smiled and moved to stand beside Tom, throwing an arm over his shoulder. They stood in a line, facing the field and admiring it as the sun dipped past the horizon line. The growing evening crept fast behind the fading yellow glow, the sky above growing darker as the treeline in the distance started to fade into obscurity, the music quietly in the background.

           “I’m glad you guys came,” Edd declared, and Tom leaned into him and pressed the side of his head to his collarbone. Matt smiled down at Tord, who smiled back at him.

           “I’m fed up with it, I’ll be honest.” Tom chuckled. And Edd playfully scoffed.

           “There’s a solution to that problem behind the bar back at the party,” Edd said, glancing at Matt, who was scratching at his wrists again. “Matt, if you keep doing that, you’ll just make it worse. Just take another pill.”

           “It doesn’t work like that, they’re one a day.”

           “It’s not going to kill you, just take another one, you’re gonna scratch your skin off.”

           Matt sighed, rubbing at the small patches of hives forming on his arms. “Alright, alright. Keys.” Matt said, and Edd reached around Tom to hand them over. They moved as a group towards the venue, with Tom looking back at Tord, who was glancing out at the field one last time, then scuttled over to catch up. 

Chapter Text

           The dance floor was beaming with life, people swinging around in pairs to the music. Now that the sun was tucking away to make room for the evening, the edges of the dance floor erupted in soft, flashing white lights that moved with the music. Edd dragged the three of them right into the center of it. Tord barely got time to set his cup down before he was tugged by the arm by Matt, who pulled him into his bubble and took his hands. Embarrassed at first, glancing around as he moved awkwardly and stiffly, but very quickly got into the swing of it with Matt’s encouragement. The eyes of the crowd were no longer fixated on the boys, so with that weight lifted and the liquid courage flowing through most of them, they danced together to whatever pop and country noise blasted through the speakers. Periodically, they pause to cycle another round of drinks, Tord included, before joining the laughter and stomping of the other guests. They bumped into each other, singing to the few songs they did know, and taking turns with each other. Edd and Matt paired up to swing together, hands clasped with each other and moving in close to tango amateurishly to the music. Matt dipped Edd suavishly with little effort for his slim build, while Edd burst into a fit of laughter and held onto him for dear life. It left Tom and Tord to dance together, laughing and moving at a safe distance from each other. Tom would occasionally offer a hand, which Tord would take as he led him in his steps, moving together in tandem with the beat, before breaking as the crowd moved around them. The sky grew darker and darker still, and eventually the brides, now in some much more practical short, white matching cocktail dresses, ran onto the floor to join the fun. They spent a lot of their time together, and when they weren’t, they were getting passed around by some family members. To his excitement, Kim finally made her rounds to Edd, who danced with her as they chatted. Kim had a huge smile on her face, and they hugged as they danced to a softer song that began to play. Matt wandered off the dance floor to the table, where he sat with a huff for a well-needed break from the action, his hives thankfully calmed down by then. Tom and Tord stepped off the dance floor to the bar as the slow dances started.

           “This is more exercise than I’ve had in my entire life,” Tord heaved, undoing the collar of his shirt and sipping his cold beer, his face flushed. Tom shared his sentiment and slipped out of his suit jacket, holding it draped over his arm after awkwardly moving his drink from hand to hand to get it off. Tord didn’t offer to help hold it for him; he just watched with a smirk. 

           “Yeah, I need a break, unless of course you wanted to slow dance,” Tom asked sarcastically, already knowing the answer.

           “Nope.” Tord laughed.

           They stood about and watched the fun, watching people get close and sway with the music. Chatting softly about whatever came up. The warmth of the alcohol is now much more noticeable to both of them. When the slow dance ended, Edd delivered Kim back to her wife, then slipped through the crowd to join them.

           “Where’s Matt?” He said as he trotted over. Tom and Tord both shrugged at the same time, then laughed about it a little. The trio went on a very short search, as when they walked around the dance floor, they found him slumped over on the table, cheek in his hand with his elbow propping him up, completely knocked out. Edd covered his mouth and snickered, quickly pulling his phone from his pocket and snapping a photo with the flash on. It did nothing to stir him, mouth hanging open like a broken hinge.

           “Sleeping beauty,” Tord said with a wide grin, which made Tom laugh and bump his arm.

           "How is he even staying upright?” Edd asked, cracking up. “I’m gonna see if the barmen have a marker or something.”

           “Huge knob on his arm?” Tom asked.

           “Without a doubt.” Announced Edd, already marching away. 

           “He was really mad the last time Edd did that.” Tord chuckled.

           “Ah, he’s not gonna know who did it.” Tom gestured with his drink.

           “He’s absolutely going to know who did it.”

           They both laughed, moving back to the side of the area to watch from a distance. They watched Edd come back and carefully start to draw on Matt’s arm, who remained completely undisturbed by it. And as they drifted into conversation, Tord was distracted by the call of the dark, unexplored property that surrounded them. His eyes fell onto the porch lights of the cottage peaking through the trees down the gravel road. Tom noticed his eager look of longing and finished off his cup before he set it down on the closest table along with his jacket. 

           “I know that look,” Tom said softly, and Tord looked at him with alert, flattered eyes. “Before we go, I wanna grab something.” He said, and Tord looked very pleased. Tom crept to the corner of the barn where the mobile bar sat, standing casually around the corner in wait. Tord trusted him and followed without questioning what he was doing. Tom gave Tord a mischievous look that made Tord swallow, and then walked over to the single barman behind the counter, leaning into his ear.

           “Hey, mate, Kim needs some help. Someone got sick over by the far tables.” He said, which made the barman thank him and rush out from behind the unattended counter. With everyone dancing and distracted, Tom slipped down and grabbed an open bottle of Smirnoff vodka and quickly walked away. Tord grinned wide enough to give him wrinkles as he quickly followed, giggling. 

           “Awesome,” Tord uttered excitedly, which Tom smiled at. Tord quickly tailed Tom through the venue, through the tables, and down into the darkness of the gravel road as Tom inspected the bottle and Tord ran his hand along the chipped white fence that framed both sides of it.

           “I was eyeing this one; vanilla, I’ve never tried it.” 

           Tord sneered at it. “That sounds disgusting,” He said, watching Tom unscrew the cap and take a swig. It was sweet and creamy, with an aftertaste similar to caramel. He reacted with an impressed pursing of his lips, followed by a gesture with it towards Tord. 

           “Try it.”

           Tord sighed and took it, taking a bigger swig than he should have. The moment it hit his mouth, he panicked, stopped walking and opened it to let it fall out onto the path as he bent down, followed by a cough. Tom watched in bewilderment for a moment. “Jesus, Commie,” Tom laughed. Tord glared and wiped his mouth with his sleeve as he stood upright again.

           “Shut up.” He cleared his throat, pausing to think for a second as it hit him. “That’s not that bad, actually.” He said, much calmer, making Tom crack up again. Tord took another attempt at a sip, still wincing at the intensity but soon enjoying it as they kept walking. They walked down the gravel road, getting further and further from the venue, the music, the laughter, until they were walking quietly in the dark aside from the crunch of rock beneath their dress shoes. The light of the moon helped to guide their way, especially since the area was so open. When they made it to the end, there was a forked path that led to the cottage on the left and the exit on the right. They snuck up silently to the cottage through the driveway, walking around an old, dusty black truck parked just in front of it. 

           The cottage was small, with aged white bricks of all sizes and a very steep roof with two windows facing forward that gave the cottage this surprised expression, and a beautiful arched doorway lined in painted stones. It was densely surrounded by tall, trimmed trees and bushes, concealing most of the cottage in darkness aside from the porch light out front. A deep, yellow light that did little to illuminate it. The window to the left of the building was glowing softly, so Tord crept around it with his hand against the wall to feel the roughness of the bricks and peeked inside. Tom followed him and did the same. Inside was an older woman, sitting in a chair in front of the glow of a small television with a ball of yarn at her feet, the orange string draped up across her lap where she was knitting something small in her hands. Tord looked back at Tom before they slipped past the window in the dark and hugged the wall to get into the backyard area. 

           Behind the cottage was a clearing with some paths leading to a few medium-sized wooden buildings. One looked like a storage unit, the other some sort of shed, both with metal panel roofing; it was difficult to make out much else in the darkness. There was a post next to an old wooden fence, slumped over with crackling paint, a spotlight above it; an old lamppost, extremely dim and dusty and mounted to the side of the shed. Around the yard were bits of scrap metal and what looked like miscellaneous car parts.

           Tord hummed and glanced around, looking up at the roof of the shed. His eyes continued up until his neck stretched and he nearly stumbled over, looking up towards the sky in sudden awe. When Tom followed his gaze, he saw the explosion of stars above them. Tom looked at Tord, who was admiring them with his mouth parted slightly, before he looked at the shed again. Tom bumped his arm, gesturing with a nod up towards it. Tord understood immediately and walked over to it with Tom behind him. Tord carefully and wobbly scaled the old fence with an anxious breath; he could hear it creak as he did, and used the pole connecting the lamp to it to hoist himself up and climb onto the hard, corrugated metal panels. Tord crouched to plant his feet and took the bottle of vodka from Tom, and then extended his hand to help Tom up as well. They shuffled carefully upwards until they sat atop the peak of the roof, about a foot apart. Tom opened the bottle again and took a swig, passing it to Tord, who did the same. They relished that pleasant warmth in the back of their throats.

           They sat there with their chins to the sky in silence for a good while. It was remarkably clear; the stars were so bright it was like they were close enough to reach out and touch. It had been a long time since any of them had gone this far out of the city, and they often forgot how breathtaking it was past all of the light pollution.

           “You know what this reminds me of?” Tom whispers to the sky.

           “Hm?” Tord hums back.

           “That old church we broke into that was down the street from Mark’s house, on his eighteenth birthday. Do you remember that?” 

           Tord stifled a very quiet laugh, then whispered back. “Yes, I do.” Tord took another drink from the bottle and offered it to Tom. He took it and grinned. 

           “That roof had the coolest view in the city.” Tom sighed contentedly. “We haven't done this in years.”

           Tord just hummed again with a smile, propping himself up with his hands against the ridge. He sighed and looked out into the field and towards the shining light of the distant party. They could hear the music playing from over the trees.

           “This is great,” Tord said softly in his mumbled accent, slowly inching down and sliding until he was lying against the roofing with his legs bent up and under him to keep himself in place. Tom did the same and shimmied down right up against Tord. Shoulder to shoulder, they melted into the other as Tom was tilting his head up to drink. The drunken haze was really starting to wash over them now, and they relaxed into the hard bed of metal. Tord lazily lifted his hand for the bottle, and Tom handed it over. Tord mimicked him in his awkwardness. 

           “I really, really missed doing stupid shit like this with you. I meant to tell you that when we— fought,” Tom said with a subtle slur, referring to a confrontational conversation they had a good couple of weeks ago. Things have mostly returned to being undiscussed since then. Tord took a moment to fidget with the sticker on the bottle, looking up at the stars. 

           “I figured you did. You never stopped me. Well, you did, but only if you knew it was going to end badly.”

           “It always ended badly. I very rarely got anything out of doing it other than the thrill of the crime. How many times did I eat shit running from the pigs with you as a teenager?” Tom chuckled as he spoke softly, head turning slightly to glance at Tord’s face. Tord eventually met him halfway and turned to look at him, too.

           “Why do you agree to it if you know I’ll just drag you into trouble, then? Edd does that with you enough.” Tord asked in a murmur, suddenly a little self-conscious, and Tom answered without hesitation. 

           “Because I like hanging out with you. Same reason you always asked me to come.”

           Tord’s mouth slowly shut as he visibly clung to those words in his mind, and he looked away shyly. “You’re so annoying.” He scoffed,

           “Annoying,” Tom repeated with an aggravated eye roll. “I’m not kidding.”

           “I know you're not, I can see it in your sappy face you’re making.” Tord looked back at him with furrowed eyebrows. “I’ve felt you staring at me like that since we got here.”

           Tom’s eyebrows raised at the change of topic, but he felt glad to circle back to what he originally wanted to talk to Tord about while they were out here. He couldn’t stop himself from saying it. “I was worried about you.”

           Tord’s face contorted to a face you’d see a five-year-old boy make at the mention of cooties. “Gross, why?”

           “What do you mean ‘why’? You’ve spent most of the day with a scowl on your face.”

           Tord’s expression shifted to one a bit more tense, and he looked back towards the stars. Tom didn’t look away and instead just looked at him in thought. He took a moment to recalibrate the direction he wanted to take with this conversation. Tom looked towards the stars to ground himself again.

           “I have this feeling you lied to me about why you hate weddings.” Tom muttered eventually, hands draped across his stomach as he rubbed his thumb against his sleeve. ”Or at least you didn’t tell me the whole truth. Whichever.” 

           Tord was not impressed. “I have this feeling you’re only coming with me to get me drunk and trick me into talking.” Tord took another sip as the vodka got closer and closer to the bottom of the bottle. Tom exhaled his chuckle in response. 

           “How else would I do it?” He replied as he motioned to the bottle. Tord gave it to him, and Tom took a large gulp from it. Then, he held it out to Tord again. “Finish it, and then we’ll talk.” He said matter-of-factly, but then quietly added: “Please.”

           Tord slowly propped himself up with his arms, looking at the bottle and Tom with a look of ambivalence. Tom shot back at him with pitiful, pleading eyes, his bottom lip puckering sadly. Tord fought back a laugh, and regardless, he took it clumsily, then downed what was left with stalling revulsion, much to Tom's surprise, who smiled with astonishment. 

           “I didn’t mean in one go, but, wow, okay.” Tord looked at him intensely, holding the look as he wiped his mouth. 

           “I did lie,” He blurted, voice a bit hoarse as he recovered from the alcohol, slowly lying back down with a groan. The panels were starting to get cold and uncomfortable. “You’re going to think it’s dumb.” Tord shuffled to get adjusted, their shoulders pressed together again.

           “I don't doubt that,” Tom said flatly.

           Tord didn’t entertain the statement, just lying quietly as he worked up the courage to actually go through with this conversation. The booze gave him a boldness he had never had before, and it simply poured out of him.

           “They make me feel…” Tord paused, his jaw tensing, searching for the right word to express the complex things he was feeling in the moment. He settled on something simple, the first word that came to mind. “Wrong.” He admitted softly while playing with the sticker of the bottle again. 

           “Wrong?” Tom asked curiously. Tord gave him a shrug as his eyes avoided Tom's face.

           “Yeah. Wrong like… I don't think I feel—feel things like I'm supposed to.” Tord started to peel away the corner of the sticker. “I see all these people, these happy people, who flaunt all this—” Tord made a motion with his hand. “All this flashy shit, y'know, when it comes to relationships. It always makes so much sense to them; they know what to do and what to say, it's frustrating.” Tord gave up on the sticker, Tom watching him instead start to pick at the aluminum neck cap with growing fury as he continued to rant. “All this talk about love, these perfect—fuckin’—” Tord ripped a piece of the aluminum off, tossing it away. They could hear it bounce off the metal roof. “—Bullshit sappy stories about falling in love. Love this, love that, it's all I hear, it's all anyone talks about. And I can't help but feel a little—” Tord's eyes darted to Tom's fractionally, the fire of his words suddenly going out. “Left out.”

           Tom listened with a surprised expression as he continued to ramble. Tord spoke so fast and passionately despite how much he tripped over his own tongue.

           “Something's got to be wrong with me, otherwise I'm just meant to be this way, and I can't decide which one is more fucked up.” Tord chuckled in frustration, his voice escaping the whisper it had previously been. His hand swung up and around as he spoke with more emotion. “I'm trying to figure out what I want and what I'm supposed to be feeling about—” Tord hesitated, stuttering as his eyes darted towards Tom. “Everything.” He said, which made Tom feel flushed. “But nothing in my head makes any sense, and nothing I do about it feels right. My head feels like a mess of nothing, and everything, it’s confusing.” 

           Tord finally quieted down, and it gave him a moment to recover from the bubbling anxiety in his stomach from admitting all that. Tom processed it quietly as the stars shone down on them. The air was getting colder, and the heat of their shoulders touching was all the more prominent to both of them.

           Tom had this undeniable conflict in his mind. His sexuality was not something he struggled with comprehending, and his attraction was something he had a firm grasp on. And yet, staring at Tord in that moment, especially as Tord turned to look at him despite his usual disdain for that prolonged, intimate eye contact, Tom felt this pull he was terribly afraid of. He reflected on it as Tord looked at him desperately for some sort of words of affirmation. 

           “You told me you were afraid,” Tom said, voice gentle and low compared to Tord's burning bitterness. “What are you afraid of?” 

           Tord shrugged again with avoidant eyes.

           “Come on, you're always so outspoken about everything. Where are all those big words you use to sound so smart and sophisticated?” Tom gently encouraged, making Tord look at him very briefly. “Where's all that snark?”

           A small smile crept into the corners of Tord's mouth. He sighed through his nose and fidgeted much more nervously.

           “It's hard to explain,” Tord mumbled. “I don't like talking about it. I don't really know how to. This isn't like that.” 

           “Try.” Tom’s voice was smooth and safe. Or maybe it was just the alcohol talking. But even still, Tord felt choked up and struggled to get anything of real substance out. He sputtered out small pieces of sentences, repeated himself, and just said mostly nonsense until he shut down again and went quiet. Tom stayed remarkably patient with him through its entirety and only spoke long after Tord had given up.

           “Could I tell you what I think?” Tom asked, the question of permission was off-putting to Tord, so he looked at him with curiosity and a shy nod. Tom clenched his jaw and opened his mouth carefully as he found his footing. “I think that… It's okay to be afraid of something so invasive. I think it’s pretty normal not to want to get hurt. I’m sure it’s more than that, I mean, I’m obviously no shrink, and you've got some issues.” Tom said with a laid-back, drunken inflection.

           Tord exhaled. 

           “But if you just sit in your room wallowing in your loneliness, it’s not going to fix anything. You have to get out there and actually try to connect to people. You have to want to. I learned that, and when I did, I met people who liked me for who I was instead of who I pretended to be.”

           “Yeah, and where did that get you? Dumped and drunk, like it always does.” Tord muttered sharply, but Tom snapped back in a moment of impatient weakness. 

           “Not everything has to be this grand happy ending, Tord. People are more complicated than that. It’s no fucking wonder you can't make new friends, that’s all you do. You whine, and then do nothing but whine until someone comes and fixes your problems.”

           Tord wore a face of scornful shock, and Tom quickly sighed and ran his hand down his face.

           “Sorry. I’m sorry. But you can’t just expect me to sit there and let you say all this stupid bullshit to me, you know that, right? What do you think is going to happen if you just spend all day reading porn, taking apart random shit around the house and smoking a spliff? What I think is that you’d feel a lot less lonely if you actually tried to let someone in for once.”

           Tord listened in silence, his face getting more despondent the longer Tom went on. Tom saw this and frowned. His voice softened until it subdued Tord enough to look him in the eyes again.

           “You are so smart, Tord. I don’t know why you act like this, why you waste it. I know you can see how much it hurts everyone. And you know, I can relate to what you’re feeling more than anyone. Or what I think you’re feeling, anyway,” Tom started reassuringly. “I can understand being scared to fuck it up and kind of… Self-sabotaging, even if it’s without realizing it. I can understand that it’s scary, because opening up means you have to actually admit to people that you give a damn about them, which is somehow a bad thing. But it still feels good to share a part of yourself with someone,” Tom paused briefly, then spoke sincerely. “I know that’s hard for you.”

           “It shouldn’t be,” Tord mumbled.

           “It’s fine if it is, Tord. Words aren’t for everyone. I think, if you tried, really tried, you could open up in a better way that feels right for you. At your own pace. It doesn’t have to be this huge gesture, mate; this isn’t a rom-com. Sometimes you just have to trust that what’s inside of you is worth it to someone.”

           “Yeah, to who? You?” Tord taunted.

           “Yeah,” Tom stated bluntly, and Tord's face relaxed. “I'm your best friend, right? That's what you told me.”

           Tord’s face was suddenly gentle, gentler than Tom had ever seen it. Tom felt that pull again, and the gravity of it kicked his heart rate up a few notches. There was a crack there, through the doorway of Tord’s soul, that Tom swore he glimpsed through for a moment. He stared at those cold blue eyes for as long as Tord allowed him to before Tord adjusted, and the bottle in his hand slipped from his loosening grasp. Tord immediately jumped up with a gasp and a very late attempt at grabbing it as it rolled down the panels loudly, flew off the edge of the roof, and smashed against something down below. Tom shot up and froze, staring at the edge. When a light in the cottage was switched on, in an instant, it’s like every drop of alcohol vanished from their system and in a moment of sudden sobriety, Tom and Tord leapt up and threw themselves over the ridge, and slid down on their stomachs against the opposite side of the roof. Their solid dress shoes awkwardly folded as much as they’d allow against the metal roof and barely kept the two of them from sliding. They were ducked down with their hands spread and fearfully tucked with their elbows in the air like a frog against a glass pane. Tom kept his face up to listen, while Tord pressed his forehead to the cold metal as the two of them went dead quiet. A few seconds later, the back door was unlocked, and the ripped screen door swung open hastily. They heard the shuffling and mumbling of who they assumed was the elderly woman. They were too scared to look over the ridge and check. She walked with purpose, mumbling about a fox, and flashed around with a torch in her hand. They could see the light over the roof.

           Tord was sweating so bad his grip on the roof panels was starting to slip, and his shoes slid an inch. Tord tensed up and clenched his hands against the metal while Tom reached over and quickly grabbed a handful of his shirt on his back, which made Tord tense up even more. They listened again. She did a round of the yard, then went back inside and latched the door with an audible lock. The air went quiet again, but the two of them didn’t move for a solid minute afterwards. Even as their fingers were numb and their legs grew shaky.

           “I’m sorry,” Tord muttered, forehead still pressed to the metal. Tom gazed dolefully at him in the dark and slowly released the back of Tord’s shirt. Tord’s knuckles were white as snow, and his face was hidden behind the curtain of hair that draped down onto the panel. He wasn’t apologizing for dropping the bottle. Tom’s face furrowed compassionately, and he opened his mouth to say something, but as he did, he slid down a bit too, and slammed his hand up onto the ridge to catch himself in a panic. The motion startled Tord, who jolted and slipped down before he could do the same. He slid down the roof fast and shrieked as he fell over the edge and thumped against the ground in a patch of long grass. 

           “Oh my god, are you okay?” Tom shouted out in a loud whisper, quickly flipping over, sliding down on his legs, and frantically leaping down after him. He landed on his feet but lost his balance and collapsed next to him before sitting on his hands and knees. Tord groaned, rolling over with a hand on his tailbone. 

           “You couldn’t have caught me that time, you prick?” Tord groaned, Tom helping him up and brushing his back off. With little warning this time, the back door came flying open again, and from it waddled the old woman, cane in hand. Since they were on the other side of the shed and out of sight, Tom and Tord quickly bolted into the tree line just a few feet from them, stumbling drunkenly into the dark as the woman shouted for what she still believed was a fox. The woods were pitch black, aside from the vague silhouette of the trees, which stopped them from running into one face-first and knocking themselves out. They could feel every spider web to the face, every branch that scratched their arms and hands, every root they tripped on, and nearly died to. Breathless, blind, and lost, they ran towards the obscure patch of what looked to be a clearing through the trees. Just running, and running, until they exploded out of the treeline and collapsed into a distant patch of open field adjacent to the wedding. They were too far to be noticed, so they just lay down in the grass as the world spun around them and panted, once again greeted by the stunning sky of stars above them and the distant country music.

           Tord laughed through his shallow breaths, and Tom joined him briefly. Their clothes were a mess, shirts half untucked and stained with dirt and dust. The cool air felt euphoric against their boiling faces. An intoxicating rush of adrenaline pumped through both of them as they wobbled to their feet and met each other’s gaze. Tord looked at Tom's chest, then up to his eyes with this sudden fierceness, and Tom took a step toward him, like his body instinctively caved to that look without a second thought. He paused when Tord stood up straight, like he didn’t even realize he was doing it, and looked at Tom now with a mixture of that excited expression and a confounded reaction to his own feelings. They stood there dishevelled and staring at each other, still a little out of breath. The light of the wedding in the distance sparkled in the reflection of Tord’s predatory eyes, and Tom stood there long enough to watch the colour of Tord’s face deepen in the fuzzy darkness that encapsulated them both. 

           In that moment, Tord made a subconscious decision, and Tom felt uncharacteristically threatened by the look that followed. Tom was obsessed with that burning glint in his eyes. A look he’s seen before, but never from the depths of Tord’s frigid and withdrawn demeanour. It was enrapturing. One thought sat as heavy as lead in the forefront of Tom’s mind, as hard as he tried to silence it. Despite every fight, every angry look, every day ruined by this nuisance. Every fibre of his being wanted to grab that man by his stupid, undone collar, yank him to the tips of his toes and kiss him as hard as he could. Taste the vodka he could smell on him. Tom could see that Tord had the same intention in his face, and that fact scared him even more.

           Then, something changed. Tord stood up straight and staggered a little with a cocky smirk, adopting this laid-back body language. It immediately soothed Tom's anxiously beating heart, and he watched as Tord took a handful of steps forward.

           “You know what else we haven't done in a while?” Tord asked coyly. Tom took a few steps back and smirked back at him, watching him take this offensively playful stance. All that built-up energy had to go somewhere, and Tom knew exactly what he was doing. Tord brandished the look Tom had seen a hundred times when they were younger. When that switch would flip during an argument, and their violent display would shift into unanticipated play.

           “You are too drunk to do this shit.” Tom chuckled, taking quicker backtracking steps as Tord continued to push forward with his own. “Fuck off.” Tom barked playfully. When Tord finally lunged in a full-blown sprint, Tom bolted backwards and ran away from him as Tord called out for him in challenge. 

           Tord was quickly gaining on him and grabbing at his shirt, which made Tom stagger and fall, rolling clumsily back to his feet with a brief struggle to stand back up. Tord was very quickly after him again, moving much more efficiently than Tom ever expected him to, for how much he had been drinking. Maybe he was still running off the adrenaline from their escape through the woods. Regardless, when Tord basically tackled him from behind, Tom tumbled to the ground with a groan and fought him off the best he could, drunk and blind. They rolled through the grass, Tord crawling up until he got Tom in a half-assed headlock. Tom yanked him backwards until he tightly grabbed his shirt and tore him off. Tord fell forward, and Tom took the opening with a swift, but gentle, toss to the ground. He pinned him there by the head into the grass, flipping over him so he could pin his arm too. Tord's other hand swatted back towards him with little effect, and Tom giggled as Tord cried out for mercy in laughter. Tom eventually granted him this mercy, but it was very quickly taken advantage of with a swift shove to the ground as Tord scrambled to his feet and took off. Tom scoffed and got up too, running after him as his legs burned with every step. Tord laughed loudly in a sort of mock fear, especially as Tom caught up enough for Tord to turn around and face him as he skipped backwards. But Tom didn't stop, plowing into him and throwing his arms around him as they both grabbed onto the other and fought on their feet, trying to take the other down. They pulled at one another, panting and tired, faces close with a grin twisting on both of them. Hands clasped like they were kids again, roughhousing in the field of their old secondary school just for the hell of it.

           Both of their hair was destroyed, Tord's especially, and their clothes were in even worse shape, but it did nothing to deter them from digging the heels of their fancy shoes into the dirt and dancing together beneath the stars. Maybe not the most traditional way to dance, but one that came much more naturally than any waltz ever did. 

           “You can do better than that, twig.” Tom huffed out in good nature, almost flirtatiously, making Tord glare and smile before he ducked and rammed his entire weight into Tom's gut and sent him careening to the ground with a yell in surprise. Tord slammed him down, straddling his legs, as Tom put a hand out to him when he felt a strong vibration in his pocket.

           “Timeout! Timeout!” Tom yelled with a laugh, and Tord froze as he caught his breath. Tom dug into his pocket beneath Tord's leg, pulling out his phone and bringing it to his face while squinting at the soft glow of the screen. 

           A block of single-line texts from Edd read: Where are you? Is Tord with you? They just finished the bouquet toss and people are starting to leave.

           “Shit, we've been out here for a while. We should probably head back there soon. We still gotta drive back.” Tom said, dropping his phone to see Tord sitting above him, trying to fix his hair. He was smoothing it out the best he could, running his fingers through it as the product in it fought back. Tord realized Tom was staring at him and stopped to gaze back down at him before he quickly jumped to his feet. Tom slowly rose and joined him while wiping the dirt from his shirt and brushing his hair with his fingers. 

           “Come on,” Tom said, quickly jogging back towards the venue with Tord close behind him.

Chapter Text

           “What the bloody hell were you two doing out there? Jesus, your clothes are ruined.” Edd demanded, dumbfounded and irritated. Tord and Tom just looked at each other and snickered. “I thought we agreed to stick together for the wedding. That doesn’t mean run off and leave me stuck with Matt.” Edd pointed back at Matt, who had a plate full of pastries from one of the tables near the grills.

           “Hey!” Matt shouted, spewing the crumbs of a tart out of his mouth and all over his tiny paper plate. His arm brandished a custom sleeve of doodled felt marker tattoos. A collection of small drawings of random objects, of the boys, Ringo, a few small fun tangles, and a giant penis that stretched across his forearm, which was somewhat smudged from an unsuccessful attempt at washing it off. 

           “Nothing, we just, um.” Tom tapped at his thighs. “Got lost trying to find the toilet?” Tom said, with a suspicious inflection in his voice. Tord closed his eyes and fought back a smile beside him. Edd pinched the bridge of his nose.

           “Get in the car.” He said plainly, and Tom and Tord shuffled towards the parking area without dispute.  

           Edd and Matt stuck around a little longer to chat with the brides before cleaning up the rest of their belongings, including Tom and Tord’s abandoned jacket and tie on the table, along with his flat cap, before he and Matt found their way to the car. Matt was tossed the keys as they walked. When they got there, they found Tom and Tord, as a matter of fact, not in the car. Instead, they were leaning against the hood and talking. They stopped and stared at Edd and Matt with these stupid expressions before Edd pointed aggressively at the vehicle. 

           “Get in the bloody car,” Edd said firmly through his teeth.

           “Okay, okay,” Tord complained defensively as he and Tom took the two back seats together. 

           By the time they were off the farm and on the motorway, both Tom and Tord were out cold in the backseat. Slumped awkwardly in their seats and against the windows. The car was dark and quiet aside from the guiding glow of the headlamp and the soft radio playing with the volume really low. 

           Matt yawned as he drove, and Edd glanced at him from the passenger seat.

           “Are you sure you’re awake enough to drive?” Edd asked faintly.

           “Gonna have to be since you’ve been drinking and the other two are dead in the backseat. Just have to see if we wake up in a channel,” Matt replied with the same volume. But when his eyes darted to Edd, he saw his concerned face and backpedalled. “Edd, I’m kidding. Yes, I’ll be fine. I can always pull over.”

           Edd sat back in his seat with a tired sigh. “Alright.”

           The car hummed softly as it raced on the motorway, the cabin occasionally flooded with light as they’d pass someone going the opposite direction. That alone was enough to keep Matt awake. Edd turned in his seat to check on the other two, mouths open and drooling, then turned back with a curious look at Matt. Edd lowered his voice to a whisper.

           “Something’s going on with them, you’ve noticed that, right?” Edd asked, and Matt glanced at him very briefly before his eyes went back to the road. 

           “Like what?” Matt whispered back.

           “Like,” Edd scratched at his chin. “Something kind of… Affectionate. More than usual for them, which isn’t a lot, I guess.”

           Matt’s eyebrows raised, and he glanced at the two of them through the rear-view mirror. His gold earrings swayed as he did. Then, he looked at Edd with his eyes.

           “Have they said anything to you?”

           Edd shook his head. “No, not yet anyway. But I've just noticed the way they've been talking to each other. I can hear them flirting through the walls. And Tord's been particularly glued to him the last little while, like he used to in secondary.”

           “Mm.” Matt hummed quietly in acknowledgment as he listened.

           “It's not like them getting together would be the worst thing to happen.” Edd kept his voice low, still, leaning into the armrest towards Matt with his hand under his chin. “But neither of them has any real relationship experience. Sure, Tom's been in a few, but nothing that lasted long enough for me to trust his judgment. I mean, his last girlfriend was a nightmare. And I love Tord, but he's…” Edd gave Matt a look where words wouldn't fit, and Matt understood.

           “Yeah,” Matt agreed with a sigh.

           “I'm not trying to smother them, I just don't want them to get hurt. Especially Tom. I'm worried.”

           Matt tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. “I've worried about it a little, too, honestly. But it's not like you can just stop them from hanging out.” 

           “I know, and I don't want to, they're allowed to be friends. It's what I wanted, right? I mean, you know how they are.” 

           Matt bobbed his head and shrugged in agreement.

           “And I don't want to be the one to mess up the group dynamic. Plus, I have noticed that they've been way more civil to each other since they started hanging out more. Which is… A good thing. I don't know, maybe I'm being paranoid. I'm not crazy for thinking this can't end well, right?”

           “No, of course not.” Matt chuckled, glancing at them through the mirror again. “We all know who we're talking about here.”

           “Yeah,” Edd said, a little uncertain as he sat back in his seat.

           “I don't blame you for being worried. I don't want the house to be split up.” 

           “Definitely.”

           Silence fell for a moment, and Matt fidgeted at the wheel again. 

           “I think it's sweet you care about them so much, Edd. But this isn't secondary school anymore. They don't need you to mother them, they're adults, and they can make their own decisions.”

           Edd huffed again, glancing out towards the black of the window and his own reflection. “Yeah, I know. They just don't have the best track record with decisions.”

           “Yeah, but you being up their arse about it won't help them either. I think you just gotta trust they can figure it out on their own.” 

           Edd rubbed his face and looked back towards Matt, who smiled. Edd smiled back.

           “Thanks.” He said, looking back out to the window again and listening to the gentle hum of the radio.

           The drive home was painfully long; Edd could only keep himself awake for about an hour before he also passed out in the passenger seat. That left Matt in a quiet car for over an hour and a half, fighting the remaining drowsiness from his allergy meds. His eyes yearned for sleep; each blink was like a taste of heaven, but he held out until they pulled in front of the house. He shook Edd awake, who groaned and sat up groggily, then reached back to gently smack at Tom and Tord’s legs until they were somewhat present mentally and capable of moving on their own. There was no way he was carrying anyone inside at this time of night. Thank god he didn’t work tomorrow. They all basically fell out of the car as the doors opened, and Matt waited patiently and exhausted at the front door for everyone to slowly make their way over before unlocking it. Eyes barely open. 

           The dull hall light was flicked on, shoes were pathetically kicked off, and no one said a word to each other. Even as Ringo came bolting down the hall from Edd’s room, meowing over and over in excitement to see him. She spun around and walked back and forth through his legs, nearly tripping him. He pushed her off to the side with his foot as he took his blazer off and hung it up on the hooks next to the door, and tossed his cap onto the ottoman. 

           Matt locked the door, kicked off his heels and sighed as his feet touched the soft and cushiony red carpet. He checked the lock again, grabbed Ringo's face and kissed her head after Edd picked her up, who smiled as Matt did it, kissed Edd on the head too, then said goodnight to everyone before he sleepily dragged himself up the stairs to his room. Edd took his cat, purring loud enough to be heard by Matt as he left, and shut himself in his room, too. 

           Tom, meanwhile, found himself zoning out and just standing there in the entryway for a moment, swaying and shaking off the daze he had gotten lost in. He realized that he was alone in the room now and looked around. His nap in the car did little to diminish the drunkenness, and he felt and tapped his cheeks with his open hands as he glanced at the kitchen entrance. Suddenly, his mouth was the driest it’s ever been, and he walked towards the kitchen mindlessly. When he got to the doorway, he was startled when he saw Tord standing with his back to the counter, palms of his hands against it to his sides, staring at him from the cover of darkness across the room. Waiting.

           “Jesus…” Tom muttered, slowly walking to the cupboard and grabbing a cup. He filled it from the tap and drank it before he looked at Tord again. His expression and position had not changed. He was very focused on Tom, which made him exceptionally nervous. Tom swallowed and slowly set his cup down on the counter, wiping his mouth. Tord watched his every move through his eyelashes with a hunger that sent Tom’s heartbeat straight into his ears. Pupils huge and plunging right into Tom, with the smallest glimmer from the hall light mirrored against the pale colour of his irises.

           “I thought about what you said,” Tord spoke softly, the tone of his accent low and smooth, but undeniably laced with the booze in his system. “And I think,” Tord inhaled, letting his head fall back through the pause as his eyes momentarily glanced towards the room around them. “I think you’re right.”

           Tom’s whole body felt tingly and warm, his heart was pounding and jumping into his throat. He couldn’t find the words. Something about him was making it impossible for Tom to even move his feet from the spot they were in, let alone speak.

           “Words aren’t my thing,” Tord said, looking him dead in the eyes again, and the buzzing of the fridge and the hall light behind him went silent. “So, I wanna show you.”

           His confident declaration made Tom’s neck go cold, but set his face on fire. He stood wide-eyed and dumbfounded for an embarrassingly long amount of time. Just holding that dangerously inviting eye contact with Tord before he mumbled out a pitiful, terrified response.

           “Okay…”

           Tord blinked slowly and tilted his head down more to look at him straight on, not moving from his spot.

           “C’mere.” 

           Tom obeyed without question, cautiously approaching him as Tord observed him still, until he stood before him closer than he needed to. Tord’s hand gently reached up and touched the tip of Tom’s tie, feeling the fabric and rubbing it between his thumb and pointer. The action made Tom’s body tense. He shuddered when Tord ran his fingers up to the knot, switching between watching his own hand and Tom's face. Tord seemed entertained. 

           “Are you nervous?”

           The quiet question caught him off guard, but it was difficult to stay focused enough to answer as Tord’s finger hooked beneath the knot, knuckle bumping Tom’s chin, and swung it back and forth painfully slowly. The friction on the back of his neck made his hair stand up, and the loosened fabric gradually gave way as Tom's shoulders tightened. He could smell the vanilla off of Tord’s breath; the sweet nectar of a venus flytrap. Tom felt hypnotized by it, no better than a helpless insect. His heart felt like it was bursting from his chest, hitting his rib cage hard enough to bruise. Each small tug of his tie felt like a shock straight down, and inched him closer and closer as that sweet smell begged for him further.

           “Yes,” Tom whispered honestly, and Tord barely did more than glance up at him with his eyes from his working hand. Tom felt more vulnerable than he ever had previously, and for something so small.

           “Funny feelin', isn't it?” Tord muttered, his fingers slowly tangling with the knot of the tie until he had a firm grasp on it. He pulled it slowly, giving Tom time to make a choice. But it didn’t take long, and they crashed into each other gracelessly and kissed with a ferocity that had been hanging over them since that look they shared back at the clearing behind the cottage. The usual buffer of space they kept between them vaporized as they grabbed at each other, with Tord’s hips pressed back against the counter. The kiss was messy and drunkenly chaotic, with every brief break between them only serving to give them a fraction of a second to breathe before they pulled each other back in again. Hands wandering, touching and reaching out the way their words never could. Both of them were completely blissed out, drowning in the familiar yet unknown territory of the other and the heat that continued to grow until it became impossible to ignore. When they came down from the initial high and barely parted to pant against each other’s mouths, their eyes locked and shared a mutual shock, almost horror at their own actions, and an absolute infatuation. Tord was the first to reinitiate it with a nearly inaudible whisper, and immediately Tom felt his moral compass give way and dragged the man by the hand to his room down the hall. The door was thrown open, closed hastily behind them and locked before they attacked each other again. Walking back as they tangled together. They fell into Tom's bed so violently that one of the pillows near the edge was knocked off and slipped between it and the bedside table. The savagery from the kitchen had started to die down now that Tord's back was to the mattress, and he grabbed at Tom's button-up to keep him close.

           Tom was gentler than Tord was prepared for. His soft caresses felt alien to him, his body still tensing in anticipation of pain with each new touch in each new place, ready to flinch. But as he kissed him harder, he felt the muscles in his neck and shoulders relax, and he liquefied beneath him and squeezed his arms around him even tighter. Tom's callused hands were grabbing all over him, but not in an aggressive or possessive way. It felt intentional and laced with calculated passion. Firm and confident, like his hands had touched this skin a thousand times over. While still carrying the weight of that subtle desperation for more. And, cautious as Tom pushed deeper into Tord's impenetrable walls. If the electric buzz from the alcohol and endorphins weren't enough to turn him on, the rush of it being someone he'd been trying to crack open for years definitely was. This was the Tord he wanted to see. No snarky and witty unsolicited comments, no fake, manipulative grins, just the sound of his voice as he says Tom's name, buried in his collarbone. When every wall was smashed down to dust, and when Tom leaned back from him to continue to slip off his tie, he stared at the face of a stranger. 

           Tord’s cheeks were so flushed that they made the blue of his eyes seem like they were glowing, and the expression he wore was exhilarating. Pathetic, and provocative with his slightly parted mouth and his eyes looking at nothing but him. Chest rising and falling hard as he waited patiently. Never before had Tom seen an expression so unlike him, yet so incredibly fitting and perfect. A stark divergence from his usual pride and glacial gaze. Tom nearly hyperventilated, taking a deep and shaky breath as his hand slid beneath the folds of red of Tord's collared shirt, lifting it far enough to see his thin midriff and the checkered boxers peaking beneath his trousers. Tom's boxers. Tord stayed remarkably still, aside from his heaving chest, as Tom admired the sight. The only time he didn't feel annoyed by him stealing his clothes.

           “Those are my fuckin’ pants,” Tom whispered breathily, charmed and not at all surprised. Both of Tom's hands dragged up his sides, and Tord exhaled throughout the whole stroke, grinning.

           “Take 'em back, then.” Tord babbled oh so quietly, and it made Tom's fingers go numb as he ripped his tie off fast enough to make it snap against the fabric, tossed it over his shoulder and dove back down for more.

Chapter Text

           When Tom finally stirred awake, he found himself alone in his bed with the light and warmth of the sun pouring down from underneath his blackout curtains. The moment he opened his eyes, he was overwhelmed with a pulsing headache, and every limb was stiff and aching. He sat up gradually, face in his hands as his eyes struggled to wake up with the rest of him. His eyes stung, and no matter how much he rubbed them, it didn't seem to help. He gazed at the spot beside him, at the clothes thrown about the floor, then towards his digital clock next to his bed. It was just after one o'clock, much later than Tom usually sleeps. He needed to get this alcohol smell off and his hair under control.

           When he eventually mustered the strength to drag himself out of bed, he moved one step at a time and slowly slipped into just some black sweatpants he found on his floor. Enough to decently make it to the bathroom across the hall to shower without one of the others catching him butt-ass naked. 

           The shower was well needed, and he kept it a little on the cooler side to try and wake himself up. Once he was done, he took a couple pain painkillers from the mirror cabinet, brushed his teeth, slipped back into those sweatpants, and then walked down the hall to the kitchen, shirtless and damp, where Edd was sitting at the table with a sandwich half-eaten and his phone in his hand. He wore his green zip-up hoodie and some long grey shorts. He looked up briefly and mumbled: “Mornin'.” Through his full mouth. Tom raised his hand as the same and opened the fridge to browse for something to eat. He grabbed the milk and closed the fridge again, eyeing the large white board calendar hung from it that displayed everyone’s schedules and little drawings, each in its own corresponding colour. Tord didn’t work today.

           “Is Tord home?” Tom asked Edd as he walked past it to the pantry and dug out one of the cereal boxes with a lazy motion.

           Edd’s eyes flickered up at him briefly, swallowing mildly uncomfortably, like he was reminded of something a little embarrassing. “He went out.”

           “Okay.” Tom didn’t press further, and when he sat down to pour and eat his cereal across from Edd, he noticed a distinct look he was given. Curious, yet already knowing. Tom paused with the spoon hovering near his mouth, slowly lowered it, and looked Edd in the eyes. Edd looked at him right back. Neither of them said a word for an unpleasant amount of time.

           “Did I… Forgot to take the bin out?” Tom nervously questioned, and Edd raised an eyebrow at him. 

           “Don’t play dumb.” He said calmly, and instantly, Tom felt his face burn up as he realized why Edd was set off. Tom shrank in his chair, taking a shy bite of his cereal. “It’s not my business, obviously. You two can do whatever you want; it’s your house, too. I just hope you’re making a good decision here.” He said, taking a bite from his sandwich. 

           Tom felt ashamed of the position he was in, but a little reassured by Edd’s blessing, even if it was more subtle. It was a small fear in the back of his mind that he couldn’t vocalize and felt good to have it acknowledged, as embarrassing as it was. He took another shamefaced bite of his cereal.

           “Thanks,” Tom mumbled into his bowl. Edd gave him a nod.

           After his very late breakfast, and well after the pain killers had kicked in, Tom washed up the dishes in the sink and then returned to the safety of his bedroom to waste the day away after he got more properly dressed. Just the same black sweatpants and a grey tee-shirt with a vague, faded logo on it. He put in some earbuds and did some minor weight lifting, but he decided that the previous night’s endeavours had rendered his limbs too sore. He decided to instead spend some time on his computer playing one of his MMORPGs. He spent a good couple of hours on the game, taking a brief break when Edd came in and stole him away to his own room to show off an animation he was working on. Tom spent some time sitting on a stool next to Edd’s chair at his desk and helping him with some joke writing. After that, Tom found a pastry that Matt had brought from the wedding and sat on the couch to eat it while watching whatever was on the television. He glanced at his phone with a momentary consideration to check in on Tord, but dismissed the feeling. 

           A while later, Tom set up his bass guitar, Susan from her display in the corner of his bedroom, old and well-loved with plenty of scuffs and stickers covering the black and white checkered pattern along her body. His amp sat on the floor just by his feet, and he sat comfortably on his bed as he plucked away at the strings. A notepad and pen open beside him, he’d pause and edit as he played. He left his door open, and Matt eventually wandered in with a bowl in his hands.

           “Hey, babe,” Matt said warmly, wearing a loose-fitting light blue shirt with a band logo on it, a cropped shirt that used to be Tom’s some years ago, and a pair of fuzzy black pyjama pants patterned with his own face. Last year's Christmas present. His left arm still had the faded remnants of Edd's doodles.

           Tom glanced up at him and smiled. “Hey, Matt.”

           “Working on your song?” he asked, climbing up onto the bed and folding his long legs up to sit behind Tom with his bowl of blueberries he was snacking on.

           “Yup.” Tom sighed, looking back at Matt as he tapped his shoulder with the bowl. Tom reached back and took a small handful. Matt kept him company for a while, coming in and out of the room with different things. After the snack, it was a book, which he very quickly got bored with. Then, it was a small sewing kit and a denim jacket. He sat quietly sewing on pink and blue beads into the shapes of flowers across the back while listening to Tom’s skilled bass playing, even joined by Ringo as she sprawled out across the deep burgundy carpet.

           The sun slowly started to set as Matt lay across Tom’s bed with his phone above his face and his leg dangling off the edge. Tom sat with his legs crossed on the carpet, organizing his laundry around him. Folding them from a basket that Edd provided during his chores around the house. Tom was starting to feel a little tired and yawned as he set aside his folded shirts. Matt glanced at him from the bed, then his eyes lifted towards the door as they both heard the front door open. 

           Tord slipped into the hall and quietly untied and placed his shoes to the side while adjusting the bag on his left shoulder. He wore his red hoodie and just some raggy camo pants. Walking into the dark house, he was met with Edd passed out on the couch, one arm dropped across his torso, and the other hanging down onto the floor, where two empty cans of Cola and a bowl of crisps lay. The Television was on, quietly playing some random show he didn't recognize. Tord smiled and exhaled an amused breath. Ringo jumped down from the cat tree in the corner of the sitting room and pranced over. Tord kneeled and petted her, watching as she rubbed against his leg and purred.

           He whispered a soft greeting to her, then stood up again. She followed him closely as he walked down the hall, the floor creaking softly beneath the carpet. He watched the tabby cat tail him with a smile. She was like a shadow in the dark, just a silhouette trotting behind him. As he walked by Tom's open door, he paused when he saw both Tom and Matt looking at him from their respective spots. His eyes locked onto Tom, who stared intensely back at him. Neither of them said anything until Matt spoke up. 

           “Hi, Tord.” He cut through the awkward silence.

           Tord looked at Matt, then flicked his eyes to Tom again, then moved them to the floor as he waved and excused himself with Ringo behind him. Tom kept his eyes on the empty doorway for long after he left. Matt slowly sat up and looked at Tom suspiciously.

           “What the hell was that?” Matt whispered very loudly. Tom cringed at it and rubbed his face with his one hand, leaning into it against his folded legs. 

           “Nothing, Matt, nothing.”

           “That didn't look like nothing,” Matt smirked, and Tom pointed at the door without another word. Matt understood he had overstayed his welcome and collected his things from the bed. “Yeah, yeah, alright.”

           Tom was left sitting on his floor alone, and he sat with the memory of all that had happened fresh in his mind. So fresh he swore he could still feel it in his fingertips. He finished organizing his clothes and moved to put them away. He spent some time after that contemplating going out there and confronting Tord about what happened, but this wasn't just the awkward banter after a big argument; this wasn't just a drunk kiss they shared. He knew the weight this carried, and the more he thought about it, the more he contemplated whether Edd was right. Was that the right move? The next step? Tom could not be less certain.

           Once his clothes were put away, he sat on his bed with his hand in his hair, just thinking about what he needed to do, about what was the right thing to do. And as if the universe answered his prayers, he looked up as a soft knock hit the frame of his doorway.

           Tord stood in a white tank top and loose, light coloured shorts, looking at Tom with sheepish yearning. Tom quickly sat properly and looked at Tord expectantly as he struggled for a second to speak. Tord looked back down the hall to check for anyone who might have been in earshot before he stuttered his quiet request that made Tom flatline.

           “Can I see you tonight?” Tord asked with both undeniable uncertainty and unwavering poise. He stood tall, shoulders straight, and a hand on the frame of the door. Tom couldn’t believe what he was hearing, and that shock was making it difficult to infer if he was serious or not. His jaw dropped as he inhaled and choked on his attempt as a response to it, his face flushing very quickly.

           “Like—um—like you mean—”

           “Yes.” Tord interrupted, instantly irritated by him. Tom's breath hitched as he opened his mouth and cleared the bubble in his throat.

           “Yeah, absolutely,” He finally spat out, his voice much too high. Tord was satisfied by the answer, though and gave him a very collected and professional nod before he left the doorway empty again. 

           Tom sat there with that lump in his neck, covering his mouth as he looked down at the carpet in contemplation and a now completely sober expectation of what was to come. He hoped he made the right decision.