Chapter Text
Now, today was a a pretty average day for Tord. He had breakfast with Edd, Tom, and Matt, then two of those left to help out some of their friends. That left Tom and Tord home alone together.
Speaking of Tom, the Brit had been avoiding him for a few of days. He had an idea why, but it was starting to get less and less amusing each day. He did, however, catch Tom staring at him sometimes. Tom would either snap his head away or pretend he was staring at something else. If Tord touched him, he would start blushing and leave. That gave Tord a vague idea of what was happening.
But, he wasn’t going to instigate anything unless he got proof that Tom was into him. He may be an asshole, but he wasn’t gonna try and rape someone.
Tord was casually walking down the hallway, towards the kitchen. His room was next to Tom’s, the other two having their rooms in the next hallway. He was about to pass Tom’s room when,
“Shit!”
Tord dropped his phone, hands tumbling to grab it before it hit the floor. What he had just heard was definitely a moan. He gently took a few steps forward, Tom’s door open a few inches.
The view was perfect.
He could see Tom’s bed perfectly, and guess who was on the bed?
Ah, yes, a naked Tom. His eyes were shut, his face red. One hand was jacking himself off, his other hand positioned below his ass. He was sinking down onto his fingers, a shaky moan escaping his throat.
Tord never would've guessed Tom was a bottom.
His own hand slid inside his sweatpants, hand gripping his soft cock. His eyes were trained on Tom’s expression, rubbing himself slowly. Tom was a gasping mess, tears pricking at his eyes. Tord began to speed up, a grin on his face. So what? He was getting off to his enemy fingering themselves.
He was getting ready to leave and just jack off in his own room, legs already moving, but—
“Tord, fuck!”
That was enough for Tord to stop moving. For a moment, he thought he was caught, but he returned his gaze to Tom. The Brit still had his eyes closed, no hint of anger. That was enough for Tord to raise an eyebrow.
“Tord, please,” Tom whined, shifting so his legs were spread wider. He was on his knees, hand squeezing his cock.
Interesting.
Tom was moaning and gasping, his pace speeding up. Every moan was accompanied with Tord’s name, the Norwegian already close. He was watching the way Tom rocked back into his fingers, the way he was shivering lightly. He let out a small groan himself, trying to muffle the sound with his hand. He really didn’t want to be caught.
Tom came with a shout. He was panting heavily as he pulled his fingers out, collapsing on his bed.
Tom may have finished, but Tord hadn’t.
He began to rush back to his own room. Not only did he need to finish jacking off, but he had to make a plan, because he had already decided.
He was gonna make Tom his little bitch.