#slkdfj

“You should clock out soon, boss.”

“Yeah yeah, Paul. Soon, okay?” Tord yawned, long and slow, and felt his eye twitch. A burning, itchy, irritating feeling started to make itself known as he did so. He blinked a few times and winced at how dry his eye felt, he switched his pen into his right hand to continue writing, while his left hand reached up and rubbed at his eye. Another yawn escaped him at the action, he felt his left leg start bouncing as his body began to stretch out, his joints popped as he flexed, making him let out a pleased groan as the stiffness within him began to abate.

His eye still felt like it was stinging though.

“Paul, could you get my eyedrops at the table over there??” Tord gathered the files on the table into his hands, he tapped them against the surface to get them all aligned before he turned to his desk drawer to deposit them. Rows of different work files greeted the weary military commander, some tagged with small red stickers to indicate that they still needed his attention, all in varying shades depending on their urgency.

He felt a small twinge in his heart when he remembered the day Tom had come into his office with a pad full of the stickers.

“You’re overwhelming yourself, idiot. Step aside, I’m fixing your shit.”

He put up a half-hearted protest that day, not really meaning it, just wanting an excuse to mope and lean against his beloved to whine to his heart’s content. Usually, if he was being bitchy enough about it, Tom would acquiesce and coddle him a little, as much as he was allowed to in public at least, and Tord would never say no to his husband spoiling him with a few stolen kisses.

He felt another pang in his heart at that, knowing how Tom would have made it home by now if Paul was telling him to clock out. This would be…what, his fourth time working late? No doubt his husband was already asleep. Still, the thought of Tom having to eat dinner alone again made his stomach twist guiltily, sour in the way it felt.

Still….he’d been pushing work back so much recently, and it was starting to pile up and cause minor problems to arise in his army, it may not look like much now, but too many of them will become a much bigger problem all together.

…was he really prioritizing work over his own husband?

Tord bit down on his lower lip at the thought, a tangy, metallic taste seeped onto his tongue.

He shook his head.

He set the files he had to the very back where most finished paperwork was, which wasn’t much compared to those incomplete. He sighed deeply to himself and clicked his tongue when he felt his eye sting yet again, his hand ghosted over the files with light pink stickers before settling for those with dark red ones. He frowned as he rubbed at his sore eye again.

“Paul?? Eyedrops please…” He held his right hand out to the direction he knew his General was seated at. Paul and he had decided to do some of the accounting work today, which was the result of an unfortunate case of the flu spreading to almost everyone in their accounting department. He had been beside himself when he caught wind of a significant number of their employees requesting sick leave, it had been such a headache to deal with at the start.

Of course, he had some words with patient zero, the whole point of being sick was to not report to work at all! He wasn’t running a sweat shop! He preferred quality work over quantity, and paperwork that had blotchy writing and traces of snot and drool was not quality.

Needless to say, patient zero- and all their unfortunate victims- were on paid sick leave until further notice. ‘Do not come to work’ was a highly stressed point, especially to patient zero.

Paul and he trudged through all the work they left behind, with Paul taking refuge at his tea table while he camped out at his work desk. Paul had been somewhat annoying about it though, always complaining about how his back hurt, or how his hands were cramping, or how stupid it was they didn’t think to invent tech that made paperwork easier, or how its unethical of him to withhold lunch until the paperwork was done bla bla bla…….

Tord just learned to tune him out.

……..Wait…..Why can’t Tord hear him complaining?

“Paul???” Tord finally looked up from his desk drawer, three new files with bright red stickers clutched in his hand, he blinked in surprise at the darkness of his own office, half the room’s lights had been switched off. His brows furrowed together as he looked over to where his tea table was stationed at to his right. Now shadowed in darkness.

There he saw Paul’s own mountain of files stacked precariously on top of each other, papers jutted out haphazardly while a multitude of paperclips kept them all from falling apart. He spotted the plastic cup of used pens that Paul had begun to collect, after the first three had run out of ink mid-way through his work pile, which had looked to be overflowing with much too many pens at this point.

Paul’s thermos- which had been delivered by Patryck- was still sitting idle on top of the tea table next to his paper pile, alongside his calculator and reference papers of past accounting records. His service dress cap was still hanging on the edge of his chair, dangling precariously over the wastebin he had moved to his side, after a number of errors had him throwing out a few of his papers in frustration, as it had meant he would have to redo them- and their calculations- again.

But, amongst all of these items, there was no sign of Paul himself.

Tord frowned, feeling a smatter of disbelief that one of his Generals would just suddenly leave his station without excusing himself. He scoffed with a slight bout of irritation as he fell back on his chair, uncaringly dropping the files he held onto his work desk as he combed his fingers through his own hair. The nerve of that man!

Had he been too lenient with Paul?? With Patryck? Sure they were friends, but during work hours he was their boss, not to mention their superior officer, and this right here was a blatant disrespect for the chain of command.

Maybe he needs to have a talk with his staff soon, about duty and respect, maybe.

Paul had just told him to clock out, when the hell did he leave??

….What time was it?

Tord let his head loll to the side, he clicked his tongue in irritation when he realized that the grandfather clock in his office was in the shaded part of it. He squinted his eyes at the confounded thing before he gave up entirely. Why the hell does he still even have analog stuff??

….ah, yeah, aesthetics……

With a tired sigh, Tord turned to his right arm and removed the glove covering it, a glint of metallic red greeted him along with a soft blue glow of lights. He pressed down on the middle of his palm until he heard a click.

“Time?” He blew out as he rubbed at his temple with his free hand.

“It is 2:09 a.m. Red Leader.”

Two o’- What?!

Tord sat up at that, he spun his chair partway around to look at his grand arch window behind him. Outside of RA HQ, he could see a few of the night watch already stationed at their towers, the cold blue of the floodlights on top of the towers shining brightly up ahead at the farthermost territory of their HQ. He spotted the shadows of the night shift Red Sentries zipping across the surrounding forests, sometimes hovering over to the watchtowers to deposit their camera footage to the database before zooming off again.

A wanning gibbous moon shone high in the sky.

Christ, he didn’t realize how long he had been working for.

Paul often clocked out around 11 p.m. at the latest, so that means….Paul had told him to clock out 3 hours ago?!

But- But he just heard him say that!

Oh hell….maybe he really does need to leave this work well alone for now, his sense of time is starting to get all screwy….

….Fuck….he was a hypocrite, he’s patient zero now. Poor Paul was patient one, he supposed. Though, at least Paul had sense to still keep a somewhat decent time. He always did say that Tord’s work-life balance was-

…..Shit.

Thomas.

His husband. His poor husband who he hasn’t even been paying any attention to this week. His poor husband who he left all alone this week because he never came home on time anymore. His poor beloved who would have been eating all his meals alone because Tord decided that neglecting his health- and love life- was worth it to finish a budget record.

Oh my god…..he’s becoming a workaholic asshole. An absent husband!!

Dread began to build up in Tord’s chest as his thoughts began to spiral.

What if Thomas thought he didn’t love him anymore?? He wasn’t able to tell him he loved him this week!

Or worse! What if Thomas was falling into a state of anagapesis?! Falling out of love with him because he’s been a neglectful, unloving, asshole of a husband!!

“I hope you and your literal work wife are happy together.”

Tord felt himself blanch as the blood began to drain from his face. An unwanted image of his husband, of his dear sweet Thomas, dabbing a handkerchief to his eyes as tears fell down his cheeks. Imaginary Thomas continued to sob as he slammed a piece of paper onto his desk, still weeping heavily into the white lacy handkerchief he kept to his face.

Tord looked down at the paper on his desk in sheer horror.

Divorce papers.

“I’m leaving you for a real man, Tord Larsin!”

Tord looked back up at imaginary Thomas in front of his desk, only to stand up in shock as a faceless man holding a crudely made instrument had pulled his husband to his side. Imaginary Thomas wept into his shoulder before glaring back at him, causing Tord to physically flinch.

“Hello!” The faceless man greeted cheerily with a wave. “Yes I am a real man!”

“He plays the bass, actually LIKES ska, has a normal job at a coffee shop, and thinks anime is super weird!” Imaginary Thomas huffed and hugged himself closer to the homewrecker. “And he actually pays attention to me and LOVES me! Unlike YOU!” Imaginary Tom sniffled before the faceless man began to turn them both away.

“Okay honey say bye bye now! Let us go to our real people home and have many children!”

Imaginary Tom looked back at him, glaring balefully.

“Goodbye, Larsin.”

Tord let out a horrified shriek, thankfully unheard due to his soundproofed office.

NO FUCKING WAY WAS THAT EVER GOING TO HAPPEN!!!

He bolted over his work desk, uncaring of the paperwork that was sent flying in every which way, as he burst out of his own office with all the aggressive force of a charging bull and the desperation of a damned man running from the devil himself.

‘DON’T LEAVE ME FOR A BARISTA, THOMAS!!!!’

Should he be concerned that he had just had a vivid and active hallucination?

Well yes.

But that wasn’t his main concern at the moment, plus, he was much too sleep deprived to be thinking straight anyway. Ah, such is life, and love, supposedly.

Tord ran down the hall, his vision tunneling and his train of thought chugging along on just one, heavily walled, and extremely magnetized, track. He could feel his heart thundering in his chest as thoughts of his beloved husband visiting a coffee shop was starting to form into an irrational fear, the back of his thoughts were already thinking up of ways to get his Thomas quality coffee that was so goddamned good he would never even want to set foot in some whore coffee shop!

Thomas was his, his, HIS!

NO FUCKING BASS PLAYING BARISTA WAS GOING TO TAKE HIM FROM HIM.

LIKE HELL!!

….

….Though…would Tom be happier with a bass playing barista??

All at once, Tord found himself skidding to an abrupt halt, his boots squeaked loudly at his sudden cease of motion, the momentum nearly making him fall flat to his face if he hadn’t caught himself on time.

Tord clasped his hands together, his eye staring at nothing as he began to think deeper about- a frankly goofy- the situation. He wasn’t sure if it was the sleep deprivation, but the more he thought about it, the more he wondered if he even deserved his beloved at this point, seeing as he spent a week practically acting as though Thomas didn’t even exist.

If he could stand to ignore his husband for a week in favor of accounting, what if he could do it for a month?? A year?? Hell YEARS?!

That didn’t sound like love.

What if Tom would be happy with barista bass player real man??

Tord’s overworked, over exhausted, and sleep deprived mind ran around him in circles.

He felt himself began to tear up.

Oh GOD, after he had promised his Thomas on the day they were married, after he had promised him he was a changed man, that he was going to be better, that he well and truly loved him, that he was so sorry for all the years and all the times he had made him cry, how he was so so sorry for ruining their lives when he left him behind, how he- Huh, wait why is Thomas’ office lights still on??

Tord blinked rapidly, coming back to himself as quick as his spiraling mind could allow. He straightened himself up and tilted his head at the sight before him.

Up ahead, at the end of the hall opposite of his own office, the doors to his beloved’s office were opened just a crack, letting the warm light from within spill out into the semi-shadowed hallway he was standing in. Thomas was never one to leave his lights on when he had gone home, even more so keep his doors open, his husband had always liked his privacy, so his office doors were always closed to everyone but Tord, as he also had a key to it anyway.

Frowning, Tord slowly approached the office doors, his hand carefully inched down to the pistol holster at his side, just in case.

Once he reached the dark wood double doors, Tord carefully pushed one of them open just a little more. He evened out his breathing as he took a peek into the office, because if some intruder thought they could just waltz into his beloved’s space, well, they would wish that they hadn’t.

Part of him hoped it was a bass playing barista, somehow.

What he saw however, instantly melted any of his aggression away.

There, reclined on his chair and sleeping soundly, was his beloved husband, Tom.

Tord felt himself smile softly as he fully opened the door, careful not to make any sound as he stepped into the room.

Thomas’ office was much smaller than his own, which was really just at the behest of his beloved. Tom claimed that he didn’t even know what he’d do with so much space, seeing as most of his duties and operations were focused on field work more than anything, and when he had no active operations, he’d spend more time in Tord’s office to help him handle logistics at HQ. So really, even having his own office didn’t seem all too practical anyway.

Which Tord swiftly dismissed, saying that he had to have a place where he could posture his authority, seeing as he was a Lieutenant General of the RA (and unofficially its Army Director). Plus….well, they could use the extra space for other things….

Tom had slapped him on the arm for suggesting that, calling him a ‘depraved weaboo’ for even thinking about it.

Well, what does that say about him? When he let Tord bring a couch that could convert into a bed into his office without a single word?

Yeah, Tom needed his own office. For sure. Not for any ulterior reason of course. Like he said, it was to posture authority. Yep.

Tord passed by the couch and gave it a fond pat as he did so.

He circled Tom’s desk and immediately made his way to his beloved’s side, his gaze softened as he leaned down to get closer to his husband. Tord chuckled as he brushed at the stray lock of hair that refused to be gelled out of Tom’s face like the rest of them, his husband was annoyed by it but Tord thought it was cute.

He sighed as he cupped the side of Tom’s face, but the smile on his own dropped when he noticed the blinking lights on Tom’s visor.

Was….was Tom in subcon-command?!

HOW LONG HAS IT BEEN?!

“Kjaerlighet!” Tord took his husband’s face in his hands, lightly slapping at his left cheek as his right hand took in his vitals. “Kjaerlighet!! Tom!! Thomas!!” His right arm beeped and gave him a readout of Tom’s vitals through a holo-screen. Tord’s eye snapped to the data, quickly taking in the status of his idiot husband, thankfully nothing seemed to be amiss aside from the usual high brain activity that came from being in sub-com.

Tord blew out a frustrated breath and turned back to his still dozing husband, he pressed a finger from his robotic hand to the side of Tom’s visor. The action caused Tom’s head to roll a little to the side, causing the other to mumble something Tord didn’t hear, but it did make him smile in exasperation. “R.L. OV3 3447-Alpha.” A series of robotic chirps responded to his code, accepting his override access. Tord placed his free hand to the other side of Tom’s head as he prepared to remove the visor from his husband.

“39-Lima-550-“

“TT3 SL-Delta.”

“YEAOW!” Tord reeled back, shaking both his hands, as a controlled shocked coursed up his arms. The fingers on his robotic arm spasmed and whined, while his flesh hand smoked due to his glove still being on when he had been electrocuted. He huffed and bit at the singed finger of his white glove, he pulled it off his hand and let it fall to the ground before turning an incredulous, wide-eyed look, at Tom. Who, at this point, had reset his chair so he could sit upright, his arms had crossed as he looked at Tord.

“Kjaerlighet!” Tord meant for it to be scolding, but instead it came out as a whine when Tom tilted his head at him. God help him. He was so weak to his husband. “What was that for?! I know you were subcomming! You know how dangerous that feature is! Didn’t I tell you not to do it without me, Bing, or Larry present?!”

“I don’t need babysitting, Tord. I know what I was doing.” Tom sighed as he propped an arm against the desk beside him, he leaned his head against his palm. “Besides, I wasn’t sub-com for that long, it’s only been a quarter of an hour actually.”

“Still!” Tord strode forward once his robotic hand stopped twitching, he knelt in front of his husband as Tom let him take his free hand into his own. “You know how I feel about you doing these things, kjaere. The sub-com system is still experimental, the mental stress it causes you is too much.” He brought his husband’s hand to his lips, just pressing against it, mumbling into the skin. “I’m scared that something could happen to you…while I’m not there…”

“Tord….” Tom squirmed on his seat as he looked down at his husband. He had wanted to deflect, sometimes Tord was just too overbearing, too overprotective of him, but it was difficult when Tord was being vulnerable with him. Sure, his husband was a paranoid bastard, but it was born from years of his time at war with the rest of the world, born from his fear of…well….losing him.

Its so unfair, it used to be so easy to jab back at his husband.

…Maybe he really was getting old, hell….

Tom sighed and took his hand back from Tord, the split second look of heartbreak on the other’s face quickly disappearing once he settled his hand to the side of Tord’s face. “Elskede, look, I really did know what I was doing, but I didn’t mean to scare you like this. I was only trying to oversee the night watch while you were still at work, and I just…” As if on cue, Tom yawned into his other hand, “I just..got tired…is all. I thought I could let my body rest while still overseeing night watch, which, ugh, wasn’t even worth it. I still feel like shit….”

“Well, why are you even here, kjaere??”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Tom gestured at him from top to bottom with his free hand. “You, Tord. You’ve been overworking lately, Paul has been complaining about your hours instead of his own. Patryck is becoming concerned with your mental state, he says you’ve been jumpier than usual.”

Tord felt his heart sting when Tom let out another yawn.

Patient two. His husband was patient two.

As if he didn’t feel bad enough about neglecting his love….now he dragged him into this.

“God, fifteen minutes sub-com but not even that made me feel rested.”

Swallowing his guilt, Tord chuckled, albeit shakily. “Your brain activity is insanely high when you sub-com, Thomas.” Tord rested his hand on top of Tom’s own on his cheek as he looked up at him. “Of course you would still be tired, Bing didn’t invent it for napping while working purposes you know?” He chuckled again as Tom huffed. “It’s an emergency feature, in case someone manages to knock you out in the field, so you can take control of the remote weaponry to defend yourself.”

“Yeah yeah, couldn’t hurt to try though, right?”

“Thomas you could have fried your brain, it would have hurt to try.”

“You’d never let me get hurt like that though.”

Tom meant it to be teasing, but Tord only smiled up at him, adoration plain on his face as he leaned up into his husband’s space. Tom was caught off guard when Tord suddenly went in for a kiss, pushing him back against his chair in the process as his husband moved to deepen it. It wasn’t even much of a dirty kiss, it simply felt as though Tord was trying to press as close as he could, still, by the end of it, Tom felt a little lightheaded as Tord pulled back, he was a little ashamed to admit that he chased the other’s lips when he did.

Tord rested their foreheads together and caressed the side of his face, still smiling.

“Never. I would never let anything hurt you, my love.”

Tom’s heart skipped a beat at the tone of his voice. He felt his face heat up. Stupid Norwegian and his stupid declarations of love…

“Yeah, well…cool, I guess…” Tom had turned his head to the side as his embarrassment reached a new high. Even after all these years, he still wasn’t sure how to respond to Tord’s earnestness, he felt really shitty for it, but Tord had always reassured him that he knew that he loved him, because of course his husband would. Tord just seems to know the things Tom could never say outright.

He glanced back at his husband, though he didn’t move his head back.

And found Tord looking absolutely shattered.

…huh???

(Well, maybe SOMETIMES he doesn’t know the things Tom could never say outright.)

“Tord-?”

“I am so sorry, kjaerlighet.” Tom ‘blinked’ in surprise, the visuals in his visor glitching out in response to his emotional state. He furrowed his brows and squeaked when Tord suddenly took both his hands and clasped them together within his own. The Norwegian leaned further into his face, disappointingly not for another kiss, causing his chair to lean backwards into a dangerous position.

“Aye-! Hey! Tord you’ll make us fall-!”

“Please please PLEASE forgive me my love!!” Tord wailed as he continued to lean into Tom’s space. “I didn’t mean to neglect you this week!! I didn’t mean to be such an asshole!! PLEASE forgive me kjaerlighet!”

“Hey! Shh! Tord! We’re in public! Don’t be so loud!! Don’t call me that!”

Tom switched his visor into his command screens and immediately selected the base cameras. He flicked through the cams until he found the main HQ building cameras, more specifically the ones that were stationed outside his office as well as the general area radius of Tord’s own office. Thankfully, none of the staff had decided to hang back like the two of them had, even maintenance had made themselves scarce. And what night guards they had wouldn’t make their rounds here until after 3 a.m. so for now they were in the clear.

He sighed in relief and relegated the cams footage to the lower right corner side of his visor screen.

Only to come face to face with a teary eyed looking Tord who took up his entire vision.

“Bwah! Tord-!”

“I AM SO SORRY, THOMAS!!” Tom instantly found himself gathered up into his husband’s arms and out of his office chair. He wheezed and choked as Tord squeezed him close as he sobbed. “PLEASE PLEASE P L E A S E DON’T LEAVE ME! MY LOVE I AM SO SORRY FOR NEGLECTING YOU!! PLEASE LET ME STILL CALL YOU MY LOVE!! PLEASE!! YOU ARE STILL MY KJAERLIGHET RIGHT?!”

“To-AUGH!- ORD!!” Tom gasped out as he pushed against his husband’s hold. “Not…the….point!!” He managed to put a little bit of space between them, his legs kicking uselessly below him the moment Tord lifted him up. He glared down at his stupid idiot of a husband who only returned a kicked puppy look at him, Tom took in a deep breath and internally braced himself against Tord’s pleading look. He is not THAT weak to his husband. He is not THAT weak to his husband. He is not THAT weak to his husband-

“We’re in public idiot!” Tom slapped him lightly on the chest. “I was okay with it when your voice was low, but you are screaming it out now!”

“The offices are soundproof!”

“YOU DENSE-! My doors are open, Tord!!”

Tom gestured stiffly at the double doors which Tord had failed to shut closed when he first came in. Tord looked over to the side, he thinned his lips.

“…Ah…..”

“Yeah, ‘Ah’. God you’re daft when you don’t get enough sleep..” Tom pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “For your information, before you start panicking, I checked the cams. No staff. No maintenance. Night guards won’t make their rounds here till three.” Tom huffed when Tord pulled his wide eyed gaze away from the open doors.

Tom hooked his fingers under Tord’s chin, gently coaxing the man to look up at him. “Hey, eyes on me.” He sighed at the look on his husband’s face, most likely he was just starting to realize the danger he could have put them into now that he seemed to be thinking straight. Tom cooed at him, gently brushing at the hair that fell over the scarred side of his face.

“Elskede, we’re alright, be calm.” He pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I’m here.” He kissed his cheek. “You’re here.” He kissed the scarred side of his face. “There’s no one else but us.” Tord shut his eye in response, allowing Tom to kiss his eyelid as his husband hugged him closer, leaning his ear against his chest. Tom carded his fingers through his hair. “What can you hear?”

“….Your heart…”

“And why is that?”

“…Because we’re here….because you’re mine…”

“And you are mine.” Tom finished as he felt Tord begin to relax. His husband shifted his hold on him, carrying him bridal style but still refusing to relax his grip, burying his face into his neck as he breathed in slow. Tom laughed lightly at the action, continuing his previous ministrations on Tord’s hair. “..What’s this about neglect Tord? What brought this on??”

“…….” Tord sniffled against his skin. Tom had to stop himself from chuckling. His husband could just be so goofy at times, he really had to talk to him about his habit of scaring himself with his own thoughts, or better yet, maybe he should talk to his therapist about his husband’s self-destructive habit. “….I wasn’t….around…”

“I’m sorry love?”

“I haven’t….I haven’t been good to you…”

Now it was Tom’s turn to feel incredulous, he sent a baffled look his husband’s way, but Tord was still hiding his face against his neck so he wouldn’t be able to see it. “You haven’t-? In what way have you not been good to me?”

“I neglected you this week!” Tord admitted into his skin, with just so much genuine panic it almost sent Tom reeling. “I prioritized my work over my husband! I brushed you off!! I was being an absentee asshole and now you’re going to fall out of love with me and- and you’ll go to a coffee shop because I haven’t found any good coffee yet and you’ll meet a barista and he plays bass and makes you laugh and then you’ll divorcemebecauseyoudontlovemeandthenyou’llmarrybassbaristaandhavekidswithhimandI’MgonnadiealoneBECAUSEI’LLNEVERLOVEANYONEELSEBUTYOU-“

“Hey hey hey! Tord breathe! What??? Coffee shop?? Bass barista????? Darling what are you talking about????”

“I left you all on your OWN for an ENTIRE WEEK!” Tord looked up at his face, the sheer anguish on his face more comical than not to Tom who was starting to find the whole situation too outlandish to take seriously. “I don’t even say ‘I love you’ that much anymore!!”

Tom looked down at his husband, his mouth partway open in disbelief and shock. He floundered a bit, before he gave up and let his head fall into his hands. “Oh my god….Tord Larsin, never EVER try to burn the midnight oil for multiple days, ever again starting now.” He felt his own exhaustion start creeping into his bones, he let himself go limp as he leaned against his husband’s chest. “You and I are not as young as we used to be, at this point, if you try to even stay up past 8 p.m., I’m pretty sure you’ll start getting brain damage.”

“But- kjaere- the barista.”

“Tord.” Tom gritted out, instantly making Tord shut his mouth. “You’re delirious, you haven’t been sleeping well. You just made up a wacky arse scenario that is never going to happen.” Tom tiredly pulled at his left glove, he tucked it into his pocket and brought his hand up to Tord’s face. “See that ring? I married you you dense motherfucker, and god knows why I fell in love with you this hard,” He let his hand fall on top of his abdomen once he was sure he got his point across. “Fact of the matter is, commie, I’m not going anywhere. I’m just so disgustingly in love with you for some reason I can’t even explain.”

Tom nuzzled himself closer to his husband, who had gone unnaturally still. “So shut up already about this barista or whatever and just take me home….I’m tired, and I’m pretty sure I’m about to collapse so remember,” Tom lifted his head to stare into Tord’s eye, only smirking when he saw how red in the face his husband had become. “I love you, that isn’t changing any time soon. Okay?”

Tord only stared at him silently for a moment, before he leaned down, lifting Tom’s head up in tandem, and capturing his lips in a deep, swooping kiss, pouring every ounce of love and adoration he could muster for the man in his arms. The man he had been so lucky to have a chance to keep for himself, to hold close and listen to his heart, to keep by his side for the rest of his life. Someone who could love him for all his flaws, had seen his worst, and still decided that he saw something beautiful in him.

His kjaerlighet.

“I love you, so so much….”

“I love you too. Could we please go home now?”

Tord laughed quietly, subtly adjusting his grip once more before moving to exit the office. “Go to sleep, kjaere.” He pressed their foreheads together as they passed the threshold of the doors. “I’ll get us home safe. I promise nothing will hurt you.”

Tom smiled as he settled in Tord’s arms.

“I know.”

////