Good boy

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at [Link]

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: M/M
Fandom: เกลียดนักมาเป็นที่รักกันซะดีๆ | TharnType: The Series (TV)
Relationship: Tharn Thara Kirigun/Type Thiwat Phawattakun
Additional Tags: Explicit Sexual Content, Anal Sex, Rough Sex, Barebacking, Under-
negotiated Kink, Light Dom/sub, Boys (nearly) in love, Episode tag
episode 6
Language: English
Series: Part 4 of Pet Names
Collections: BL Fanfics you should read
Stats: Published: 2019-11-12 Words: 6,173 Chapters: 3/3
 Good boy
by iffervescent

Summary

Sparklers and safety

Russian translations for chapter one, chapter two and chapter three
 Sparklers
Chapter Notes

guys this episode was such an emotional rollarcoaster i think i'm dead someone save me
plz

This isn’t what falling in love is supposed to feel like.

Tharn walks home from P’Jeed’s bar. It’s dangerous walking alone so late at night, and if he’s
not careful he’ll miss curfew. He can feel the tears on his cheeks, warm and wet, marking him
as the world’s easiest target for anyone who might be watching. And he suspects that
P’Khong was just being nice earlier, that there’s no way that Tharn’s performance tonight
wasn’t terrible, maybe bad enough that P’Jeed won’t want him back to play anymore.

Tharn can’t really care about any of that.

God, he’s so fucking stupid.

Maybe right now, right this instant, Type is asking Fai to be his girlfriend. He’ll be smiling at
her, holding her, tucking her hair behind her ear…maybe Type’s kissing her, right this
second. Fai seems like a good girl, but Type is handsome, and charming (when he’s not
angry, when he’s not being an arsehole, when he’s with anyone except Tharn) so maybe…
maybe…

Maybe right now, right this instant, Type is in bed with her. Tharn can’t bear to imagine it and
can’t stop the images from coming, Type stroking her soft skin, leaving little kisses on her
neck, trailing fingers over her thighs…

Tharn stops and throws up by the side of the road. The alcohol is bitter and stinking on his
tongue and he spits and spits, trying to get rid of the taste. A couple walking hand-in-hand
cross the street to avoid him. He can’t even imagine what he looks like right now.

This isn’t what falling in love is supposed to feel like.

It isn’t supposed to leave him hollowed out and aching, hating himself and hating Type and
loving Type in equal amounts, feeling the back-and-forth tug of it in his guts every waking
second. It isn’t supposed to make his heart feel bruised and hurting and give him a head full
of memories he wants to cherish and forget at the same time. It isn’t supposed to leave him so
desperately sad.

Tharn is going to have to break up with Type. He doesn’t have a choice. P’Jeed was right.
Too much heartache can kill you, and Tharn can’t imagine this hurting more than it already
does without him wanting everything to stop. He can’t live without Type, but he's starting to
realise that maybe he can’t live with him either. Or maybe he’s known that all along.

When Tharn was five, P’Thorn took him to the Yi Peng Festival, to watch the lanterns float
up into the night sky. He’d bought his little brother a Western-style sparkler and Tharn
remembered being so completely entranced by it, his child-like wonder at the bright burning
spark, the way it left trails of light in the air behind it, this tiny piece of fire magic that he was
able to hold in his hand for a brief few moments before it burnt itself out.

Tharn leans back against a random wall and tips his face up to the sky. He’s nearly back at
the dorm now but the thought of going back into that cold room, that cold bed, just makes
him want to cry. The only thing worse – oh, god, the only thing worse would be if Type has
brought Puifai back with him. He wouldn’t do that, would he? Fuck, maybe he would,
making sure that Tharn knows his place, that it’s not Tharn that Type wants at his side for the
world to see.

Tharn can’t bear to see Fai’s face. He doesn’t blame her, not in the slightest, completely
understands that Type’s the one treating them both badly even if understanding that isn’t
enough to make Tharn stop loving him, but…he really doesn’t think he could bear to see her
face. To see her make Type smile.

For a brief little while, Tharn held fire magic in his hands. Type was his sparkler – that white-
hot burn at its core, angry and lashing out, but still so beautiful despite that. He was a trail of
light in Tharn’s life, burning through the aloofness and control he draws around himself so
tightly, leaving golden traces behind every time Tharn closed his eyes. Type is light and
sparkle, full of life and energy and determination even after everything he’s been through,
lighting up Tharn’s world like nothing before ever has, and he was Tharn’s, Tharn’s to hold
and kiss and cherish and lose…

Tharn wasn’t enough. He still believes that Type likes boys, but that doesn’t mean he can’t
like girls too, and it turns out that he liked one enough to commit to her, to choose her over
Tharn again and again until Tharn finally gets the message. Well, Tharn’s got it loud and
clear now. He sniffs and wipes the damp off his face. He knows what he has to do.

Type won’t bring Puifai back. Not because he’s not that much of an arsehole, because he is,
but because he’d be too scared of what Tharn might do or say in front of her. So Tharn can go
home safely, curl up alone in his bed that no longer smells of Type’s soft warm boy smell,
and give himself one last evening with the sparkler still in his hand, burning down to the end
now but still throwing off light. And when it goes out, when Type comes home, then Tharn
will end things formally, and find some way to keep on going when the boy he loves and who
will never love him back walks away from him forever.

This isn’t what falling in love is supposed to feel like. Falling in love is supposed to feel like
that spark shining inside you forever, lighting up your life. Maybe right now, right this
instant, that’s what Type is feeling with Puifai.

Tharn is just going to have to be okay with the dark.

You didn't think I was just going to write sadness and no sex did you

Type is curled up too tightly against his back, his fingers digging like claws into Tharn’s
stomach as he babbles words that aren’t making proper sense to Tharn’s brain. It doesn’t feel
like an embrace, more like desperation, and Tharn’s head is swimming with heartache and
alcohol and confusion.

“I couldn’t do it! Do you hear me? I can’t sleep with women anymore.” Type chokes out,
almost a sob, and Tharn can’t bear it anymore, has to roll over to face him. Type looks…
Tharn thought he’d seen most of Type’s levels of anger and stress, but this is a new one. Even
in the dim light Tharn can see the wildness in his face, his eyes red-rimmed like he’s been
crying. Type has been steadily shattering his heart and stomping on the pieces for the past
week and still all Tharn wants to do is wrap him up and kiss him better. His tired brain
fumbles to make sense of what’s going on and think of something to make Type stop hurting.

“Maybe you’re just tired.” He offers softly. That’s a thousand times more likely a reason that
Type can’t get it up than whatever nonsense he’s saying about Tharn.

“No, I’m not tired.” Type insists. His fists are clenching against Tharn’s abs.

“Maybe you're just not that into her.” Tharn suggests as mildly as possible. He’s never seen
this girl, has no idea how cute she is. He doesn’t even really know what Type’s type is for a
girl –

“I’m not interested in any women at all!” Type snaps and Tharn twists round a little further to
look at him properly, his brain finally starting to wake up. Type is clinging to him
desperately, red-eyed and sniffling and talking about how he doesn’t think he’s attracted to
women anymore and Tharn really can’t take this, he’s already hollowed his soul out this
evening in preparation for losing Type forever, and now there’s this terrible soft hopeful
feeling creeping in round the edges of his heart and it feels so good he can’t bear it –

“Maybe you’ll be interested in other men –” He starts, and Type actually growls, grabs a
fistful of Tharn’s shirt to pull him closer and glare into his eyes. Such a fiercesome little
hothead even when he’s, when he’s –

“I don’t want to sleep with any other guys. I only want to sleep with you.”

– even when he’s saying the words that Tharn never thought he would hear, begging for
forgiveness in a broken little voice and crumpling down so he can push his face into Tharn’s
neck and Tharn can feel tears on his skin.

Tharn slides a hand into his hair and holds him close. He thinks that maybe this is a dream,
that alcohol and sadness have pushed him over the edge and now he’s dreaming of a fantasy
world where Type is confessing his love for him. He pats at his lover’s hair tenderly. It’s such
a good dream. Tharn never wants to wake up.

“Good boy,” he murmurs, low and intimate, to this dream-Type who is giving him everything
his heart wants. “You already know that I can never be angry with you. You’re mine now.”

Then Type raises his head and his face is red and blotchy from crying and he looks vulnerable
and beautiful and also stubborn as hell and like he wants to punch the whole world and Tharn
suddenly realises, oh, this is not a dream, because there’s no way Tharn’s imagination is good
enough to conjure up such a ridiculous combination of expressions that only the real-Type
could ever wear as he glares down at Tharn and threatens his love, literally, who even does
that?

“It’s you who are mine! Because I won’t ever let you go again.”

Type does, that’s who. Fuck, Tharn loves him so much.

“You already know that I’ve always been yours.” Tharn tells him, fully awake and feeling
that soft shining hopeful feeling in his chest grow stronger and firmer into something even
more perfect. Type is kissing him, gentle and hesitant but growing more confident and he’s in
Tharn’s arms and Tharn will never let him go again either.

Tharn thought he’d had a sparkler bringing light to his life, but every trembling kiss Type
gives him is like a firework behind his eyes, colour dancing along his nerves and setting his
soul on fire. The happiness is bubbling up inside him and he can’t help his smile against
Type’s mouth.

“Is this how you’re going to make it up to me?”

“It’s the only way I know how.” Type murmurs back, still that trace of hesitancy in his voice
and Tharn rolls over fully to pull him close, can’t bear Type being unsure for even a second
about how much Tharn wants him, has always wanted him and will always want him.

Type doesn’t stop trembling the whole time Tharn pulls his clothes off and slides his fingers
inside him. It worries Tharn a little at first and he slows down, not quite sure if Type really
wants this – but Type makes a little whimpering noise and grabs at him, wrapping a leg
around Tharn’s hips to hold him closer and Tharn realises he’s just overwhelmed, so he holds
him even closer, even tighter, as he presses his cock inside.

It’s corny and cheesy and Tharn would never dare say it out loud – but making love to Type
is a thousand times better than just fucking him.

They don’t stop kissing the entire time, mouths pressed close and just breathing each other’s
air. It’s hot under the covers and from how closely they’re wrapped together but Tharn
wouldn’t give it up for a second. Type’s body is warm and welcoming around him, soft and
pliable like Tharn’s never felt before and he’s going out of his mind with how good it feels,
how deep inside him he can get. Type isn’t even speaking, just making these soft little gasps
even time Tharn pushes deep.

When Type comes Tharn feels every second of it. The little gasps have been slowly getting
higher and they go frantic around the edges when Tharn adds a grind to his hips, pressing
hard against that little spot inside Type that makes him squirm. His hands are clutching
desperately at Tharn’s shoulders and Tharn can feel them press against the bone as Type
arches and whimpers brokenly, his cock spurting between their stomachs. Then he collapses,
boneless and sated as Tharn presses kisses over his face.

“Only you.” Type whispers, and Tharn shoves in once, hard, as deep as he can possibly get
and then he’s coming instantly, inside, as Type shivers around him and Tharn is never, ever,
going to let him go again.

“I told her I’d never see her again.” Type says, his head in Tharn’s lap as they sprawl out on
the bed. Tharn just hums as Type rattles through the various ways in which he treated Puifai
badly. Poor girl. To nearly have Type and then lose him is the worst feeling – Tharn can
probably sympathise with her better than anyone else in the world. Type is still babbling
away in his lap, as though he’s anxious to reassure Tharn that him and Fai are definitely,
definitely over. Anxious Type is a new experience. Tharn doesn’t like it, obviously, he never
wants Type to feel anxious or afraid ever again…but it is a little nice having his lover anxious
to please. Then some of the babble breaks through.

“ – and I told her I’m dating someone else.”

Tharn can’t help the little jump of shock, as though the thump of his heart was strong enough
to make his whole body shiver. Type’s dark eyes are fixed on his face, watching his every
move.

“Yeah, that’s what I said. I told her that when I was with her on the bed. And then she slapped
me!” Type trails off a little. “I suppose I deserved it after what I did to her.”

Tharn can only gaze down at him a little helplessly. Never in a million years had he imagined
this moment, Type warm and affectionate in his lap, basking in Tharn’s attentions. It’s too
good to be true, no, it really feels like this might be ripped away from him any second –

“Will you be okay dating an out gay guy like me?” He blurts, feeling all the layers behind the
question. Are you okay with people finding out about us? Are you okay with people thinking
you’re gay too? Are you okay with me shouting from the rooftops how much I adore you?

“Honestly, I don’t really know.” Type pulls a face. “I liked women my entire life. I feel like
having sex with a guy makes me desperate somehow –” He must sense some tension of
Tharn’s that Tharn himself isn’t even aware of, because his eyes flutter wide as he reaches
up. “Sorry! I don’t mean it like that – you know I have a dirty mouth, don’t be mad at me.”
Tharn purses his lips as he looks down at him. “Actually…I’d already decided that I was
going to break it off with you this evening,” he says, brutally frank, watching Type’s eyes
widen even further. Tharn focuses on how he’s stroking Type’s ear, feeling the delicate lobe
under the calluses on his fingers. God he wants to touch every single inch of him. “But now
that I have you like this…I will never, ever, break up with you. Got it?” He can feel the grin
spreading across his face as Type just looks at him, surprise quickly flooding into outrage.
“Are you shocked?”

“Of course I’m shocked! You were going to break up with me!” Type is so indignant that all
Tharn can do is laugh. The sheer cheek of his little brat is astounding.

“Can you blame me? I’ve been in hell the whole week, thinking you were going to break up
with me first.”

Type swallows hard and Tharn’s gaze drops to the hollow of his throat to watch the
movement. He wants to touch him there as well, even though Type’s throat is one of his
favourite places and he’s touched him there a thousand times already. But now he wants to do
it properly, leave marks.

“I’m sorry.” Type says, and if Tharn still thought this was a dream that definitely would have
shocked him out of it, because never in his wildest dreams had he imagined Type apologising
for something. “I won’t act like a dick again.”

“Huh, so you do have some self-awareness.” Tharn jokes, and grins when Type pouts at him.
He can’t stop touching the other boy, running his hand over his shoulder, his arm, his chest.
All this soft warm skin, it’s all Tharn’s to do what he wants with. This lapful of warm boy, all
Tharn’s to do what he wants with.

“Next semester, let’s move off campus.” He says, and holy shit, yes, that’s the best idea he’s
ever come up with. Type is giving him a weird look.

“My dad won’t let me.” That’s not a ‘no’, Tharn notices.

“I’ll pay the rent myself.” He means it. He’ll do more gigs, pick up cleaning work in the bar
if he has to, somehow juggle everything on top of his degree. He wants this, fuck, he didn’t
realise how much until he said the words aloud. “I want to hear you scream without holding
back. I love how sexy your noises are.”

“Do you want me to kick your arse?” Type immediately snaps and Tharn knows he must be
grinning like an idiot, his little hothead all ready to start a fight again.

“I mean it in a good way!”

Type is unconvinced. “How am I even sexy?” He demands, and Tharn feels his cock stir
under the covers, under Type’s head. God, the other boy really has no idea. It’s not even
Tharn – he’s seen the looks other people give Type, boys and girls alike. God, even P’Jeed.
Type is a light that draws everyone’s eye.

But he’s also likely to punch Tharn if he says any of that.

“You’re definitely the jealous type,” he mutters, and Tharn has never been jealous of a single
one of his exes, but if another guy tried to touch Type then Tharn would probably kill him.
Hell, he’s ashamed to admit that a tiny part of him wanted to pull out even poor Puifai’s hair
for daring to go near his boy.

“Are you alright with dating someone as jealous as me?” He asks, because what if that’s a
deal breaker? God, it would tear him up inside but he’d change, for Type, he would –

Type just snorts. “I knew that about you already and I still let you have your way with me
didn’t I? So what do you think?” There’s a hint of a blush on his cheeks when he talks about
Tharn having him and it makes the stirring in Tharn’s belly grow hotter, heavier.

“Then are you going to let me have my way with you all night long?” Tharn asks, scarcely
daring to breathe in case it affects Type’s answer. The blush on his lover’s cheeks is growing
brighter.

“Suit yourself.” Type says, flippantly, as though he doesn’t care about the answer and Tharn
is leaning down to kiss him before his brain has finished processing the words. Fuck, Type
actually would let him wouldn’t he, Tharn’s already fucked him once and Type is going to let
him do it again, spread his legs so that Tharn can be inside him as many times as he wants.

“Mmmm – Tharn!”

“You said I could.” Tharn is already shifting them around on the bed till he can pull Type
back into his arms and slide a thigh between his legs. God, he probably doesn’t even need to
prep him does he? Type should still be open and wet from before, Tharn can just have him,
instantly –

“How are you already hard?” Type mutters, squirming against him. Tharn has one hand
wrapped around his waist to hold him close and the other has pinned both Type’s wrists in
between their chests. Type is squirming like a kitten, pulling at his hands and twisting his
hips and giving absolutely no indication that he actually wants Tharn to let go. Tharn feels
something dark and powerful curl in his belly as he watches Type’s face whilst he squirms,
watches his cheeks go pink and his eyes go soft and open.

Type likes this. Type likes Tharn…holding him? Holding him down? Type likes it when
Tharn holds his wrists in one hand and slides his fingers inside him with the other, not to prep
him but just to feel how open and wet he is. Type likes it and Tharn doesn’t think he’s ever
been harder than this in his life.

“Can you feel that?” He murmurs in Type’s ear. “You’re so wet for me. I can just fuck you
straightaway can’t I? I should keep you like this all the time when we have our own dorm,
just naked and ready in our bed –”

Type makes a shocked high-pitched noise, like someone’s shocked him with a spark. His eyes
have clenched tight and he’s breathing hard and Tharn can feel his cock jumping like crazy
against his thigh. God he needs to get inside, he’s going to last three seconds himself at this
rate, just from the warmth and the tightness around his fingers and the thrill of saying those
words –

Our dorm, our bed.

He pushes Type onto his back and then shoves his thighs apart, pressing his cock up against
Type’s arse.

“You’re going to have to stay quiet. We’re not in our own place yet.” He mutters in his ear,
rubbing the head of his cock against Type’s hole over and over. He can feel it catch, pressing
the tiniest bit further inside each time, splitting Type open. He’s going in so easily, Type
rocking his hips trying to get him inside. So eager. So fucking perfect.

“Tharn…Tharn…please…”

“What do you want? Tell me.”

“I want it inside.” Type chokes out, and Tharn has to pause to sink his teeth into the meat of
Type’s shoulder, to hold himself there for a long moment before he comes all over the place.
He sinks his cock another inch in, the head spreading Type wide as he squirms desperately.

“You want my cock?”

“Tharn! Please!”

“Tell me!”

“I want you!” Type begs, and Tharn gives up, gives up completely, surrenders himself over
and sinks his entire cock into Type’s body in one smooth motion. He’s already fucked Type
open once tonight, left his come inside to make it easier, and yet Type is still so fucking tight,
clenching around Tharn’s cock as he gasps for breath.

The first time was slow and tender and loving. This time is rough. Tharn covers Type’s
mouth with his hand and fucks him as hard as possible, shoving his cock up inside him with
each thrust and leaving bitemarks up and down his neck. Type loves every single second, his
moans muffled by Type’s hand as he rocks into each thrust and then he’s coming, without a
single hand on him, just Tharn’s cock inside him slamming home and he's coming
everywhere, his moans going high and desperate as Tharn just fucks him through it.

Tharn doesn’t stop fucking him. He’s clenching every muscle in his body so tight they’ll hurt
tomorrow, determined not to come yet even though his cock is aching. He wants to do this
forever, stay inside Type forever – and that dark coil in his belly wants Type to feel it forever,
wants him to wake up tomorrow sore and aching from Tharn’s cock. Because he is Tharn’s
and Tharn is his and Tharn is going to do this every night from here on out.

It’s that thought that tips him over the edge, of doing this every single night. Type has gone
completely soft and pliant underneath him, letting out a soft little whimper with every thrust,
looking more peaceful and content than Tharn ever thought possible. Tharn kisses him
desperately, feeling his body shake, and then takes pity on Type’s poor abused arse at the last
second and pulls out to come all over him again.

Which is pretty fucking good in its own right really.

“How can you think you’re not sexy?” Is all Tharn can say, braced above Type and looking
down at him, sleepy and fucked out and covered in come. He’s come twice and he thinks he
could probably do another round, just from how horny looking at Type makes him. Type
cracks open an eye and glares up at him.

“You can’t be horny again?!”

“You said all night!” Tharn argues, glaring right back, and then Type kicks him in the side –
with a wince – and he nearly falls off the bed.

“And you made a mess on me! Go get a washcloth or something.”

Tharn’s legs feel like rubber but he obediently shifts off the bed, trying to hide his smile. He
tosses the comment back over his shoulder as he heads into the bathroom.

“You’re going to have to decide lover – whether you want my come all over you…or inside
you.”

He can hear Type making a spluttering noise from the other room as he rinses out a
washcloth. They had one (1) thirty second conversation about condoms the first time they did
this. Tharn is used to condoms, knows it’s better to be safe and usually prefers them – and
Type had shot down the idea instantly. Looking back, that maybe should have been one of the
(many) early clues about what sort of things Type was into, things that Tharn is going to have
to think about in his own time, very carefully and deliberately, because if he thinks about
them at any point when Type is in arm’s reach he’ll pin the other boy to the bed and fuck him
instantly.

“Are you taking a dump in there?” Type snaps from the main room. “Hurry up, it’s itching.”

Tharn suspects he’s probably beaming like an idiot when he returns, wipes Type down –
dropping kisses on the cleaned skin as he goes – and then tucks in around the other boy,
pressing his soft cock (for now) up against Type’s gorgeous little bum. Another bit of him
that he doesn’t realise is sexy, and Tharn has no intention of enlightening him any time soon.
Type is already a brat and has the potential to become even more of a tease if he realises
Tharn’s weaknesses, which currently include his eyes, his hair, his cute little ears, his neck,
his shoulders, his waist, his arse, his –

“What are you thinking about?” Type mumbles. He wriggles back a little so that his back is
curled into Tharn’s chest. For a brief horrible moment Tharn remembers last night, when
Type had shoved his hand away when Tharn dared to rest it on his hip a moment after they
were done. Such a complete 180. But then – that’s Type’s style isn’t it. He might need to be
smacked in the face with something to realise it, but then he commits full throttle to whatever
he’s decided. Tharn drops a kiss to the fact of Type’s neck.
He will offer prayers at every temple he passes for the next week in gratitude that Type has
decided he wants him.

“Thinking about getting a new place.” He murmurs, and feels Type yawn.

“You don’t fool me. You’re thinking about getting a new place so you can fuck me till I
moan.” He says, not sounding at all upset by the idea, and Tharn shifts up a little so he can
bite his earlobe, earning a surprised noise in response.

“You caught me.” He says, and enjoys Type’s mutter of horny arsehole as he drifts off to
sleep. He’s not lying, Tharn was definitely thinking about that, but also about everything else
– about getting a bed big enough for both of them, waking up with Type in his arms every
single morning, sharing a shower when they’re running late, always making sure there’s chilli
sauce in the fridge…

He wants all of it, every moment. Whatever happens in the future, Tharn can’t think about it
now, not when he came so close to losing Type already. Type brings light into his life, and
Tharn nearly had that extinguished, and he will do whatever he has to make sure that light
never goes out again.
 Safety
Chapter Notes

With bonus chapter of Type's POV because I loves him

See the end of the chapter for more notes

“You’re mine now.”

Type doesn’t have the words to describe what’s happening inside him. It feels – urgent. Is that
a word? Like pressure. Like when you’re standing on top of a cliff or a mountain and the
wind is pulling at you, pushing, pressure pressing against you from all directions. That’s what
the inside of Type feels like right now, and he doesn’t understand how he’s not flying to bits
from the force of it all.

Is this what everyone feels like, when they’re – when they’re dealing with emotions and
relationships and things? God he can’t imagine why anyone would put themselves through
this willingly. Surely not everyone, or at least not every time – otherwise the human race
would have died out before it began! Type doesn’t really know how he’s going to get through
it, except for –

He glances to the side, where Tharn is sitting with his back propped against the bed, tapping
away on his laptop. Type can’t see much, just the top of broad shoulders, the curve of his
neck, pale skin giving way to dark hair that looks so soft and touchable. Just looking at Tharn
helps calm some of the craziness inside his chest.

Type swallows hard and goes back to his phone, mindlessly scrolling.

He has literally no fucking clue what he’s doing. Stuff was so good with Puifai, she was
sweet and funny and pretty and she liked Type! She’d invited him up to her room! Girls only
did that with guys they really liked. And it had been easy with her, Type knew what to do,
how to smile and flirt and touch her. It was all familiar and easy, he’d been able to do it on
autopilot almost.

Probably why it’d been so easy to think about Tharn all the time instead.

That arsehole. Type glares at the back of his roommate’s head. It’s his fault for being so
handsome and good at sex and caring so much and –

Type does feel bad for leading her on like that. He knows he’s going to get a bollocking from
his old schoolmate as well, and then what’s he supposed to say, oh yeah sorry, Fai was cute
and all but she didn’t make him harder than a fucking rock just from a glance the way his
boyfr-
Type slams down hard on that thought. He and Tharn are together now. They haven’t used
any other words yet. Type – Type can’t. Not yet.

He glances at Tharn again as the other boy peers closer to his screen and frowns. The
movement shifts the muscles in his back and arms and Type has to swallow hard. He’s never
found any other guy remotely attractive, but Tharn is – Tharn is really hot, anyone with eyes
can see that. That makes it alright for him to be the exception.

Tharn is the exception that has upended his entire life, everything he thought he knew about
himself, who he was, and what he wanted. It’s all been tossed aside on the wind, because…

Because he can’t not be with Tharn. Type can’t think of any way to say it except that. And if
he has to be with Tharn, then Tharn has to be with him in return. Even the thought of him
with another guy – Type feels a scorching red-hot acid start climbing its way up his throat.
Tharn touching another guy, fucking him, smiling at him, dropping gentle kisses down his
throat, asking him to be his boyfriend…

Type’s hand is outstretched before he really knows what he’s doing. If just looking at Tharn
makes him calmer, then touching him is a thousand times better. Just a normal touch sends a
note of calm and simple happiness through Type, the sort he can’t remember feeling since –
ever, really. When Tharn is being affectionate, nuzzly and tender, then it feels even better,
even if Type has to shove him or kick him off because it’s too much to bear. And then in bed,
sometimes the way that Tharn touches him then is…it makes something hot and golden glow
inside Type’s head and he knows he’s safe.

Feeling safe is the single most important thing for Type. He hasn’t felt safe in a very long
time.

His hand is outstretched and he’s still just looking at it. Tharn touches him all the time and it
always makes Type feel so good. But if they’re – together – now, then Type needs to learn
how to touch Tharn to make him feel good too. Not just in bed, but – all the time.

His fingertips just brush against the back of Tharn’s neck, whispering over the short hairs
there before he slides his fingers into the rest of the other boy’s hair. It feels good against his
palm, soft. Tharn makes a low humming noise in the back of his throat.

“Having fun?” He asks. Type has to swallow hard before he can answer.

“Yes.”

He can see the corner of Tharn’s smile on the side of his face. “If you’re having fun, then by
all means keep doing it.”

Type doesn’t understand how Tharn is so…so…ugh! So calm or confident or self-assured or

Brave.
Type swallows hard as he keeps stroking his fingers through Tharn’s hair. Tharn is so brave.
He never once backed down when Type was being a homophobic bully. He’s always been so
open and honest about what he wants, is never afraid of being vulnerable even in front of
someone who could hurt him. Who has hurt him. And even now, he’s brave enough to trust
himself all over again to Type, trust that this time Type will be worthy of him.

That starts with Type being brave too.

He moves before he can think too much about it, reaching again to catch Tharn’s face and
turn it towards him, leaning down for a kiss. The first true kiss he’s ever initiated, that wasn’t
in payment or in rebuke or to get what he wanted.

It lands perfectly, not clumsy or awkward in the slightest, and Type sighs into Tharn’s mouth
at how good it feels. He could kiss Tharn forever. When he pulls away Tharn is gazing at
him, his beautiful eyes always so open. Type can’t breathe at the emotions he sees in them.

“Type –”

“I’m going to take a nap.” Type says immediately, throwing himself onto his back on the bed
and closing his eyes. His heart is thumping like crazy. He’s almost used to the sensation by
now, when once he’d genuinely thought he needed to see a doctor about it. Now, it’s just…
it’s just how he feels around Tharn.

Tharn’s deep voice wraps around him like a hug.

“Sweet dreams Type.”

His voice and his nearness are almost enough to send Type to sleep, his muscles relaxing into
the bed he’s barely moved from today – everything hurts, especially his arse, and he doesn’t
care how much of a turn-on that is for Tharn (and okay a tiny bit for him as well, he likes
knowing how crazy he makes Tharn, how…how sexy Tharn finds him). But he’s sore and
achy now and his body needs sleep to recover.

He doesn't drift off entirely though, some small part of his brain staying awake to listen to the
tap-tap-tap of laptop keys. He comes back to consciousness a little more when Tharn goes to
the bathroom, not settling back down until his – his roommate is back in the room. He
doesn’t relax entirely until Tharn climbs onto the bed behind him and wraps his arms around
Type’s waist.

“You’re mine now.”

Tharn is holding Type in his arms and Type feels safe and warm and owned, like something
Tharn cherishes that he’s going to take care of forever, and Type wants that, wants that more
than anything.

The bravest thing Tharn ever did was open his heart to Type when he thought there was no
chance that his feelings would ever be returned. And now it’s Type who knows that he can’t
live without him. He meant what he said.
 He’s never letting Tharn go again.

Chapter End Notes

Can I also say I am overjoyed that pet names for Type is now canon?? Along with Tharn
wanting him to make noise and getting turned on by Type in his clothes!! This episode
was amazing and I can't believe I wrote such emotional stuff - this was just supposed to
be a smutty episode accompaniment! - but based off the teaser for next episode I will be
back on the pure smut!
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