Exquisite Torture

IV.

If he'd been sober, he would have noticed Tharn's pupils dilate with arousal at the mere thought of Type begging him for anything. But Type was too intent on his own confusion to notice that Tharn was still ignoring him.

"Are you going to answer me?" Type said getting up from his seat and shouting at Tharn with a finger pointed at his chest.

The others were shocked that Type could talk to Tharn like that. Both Tum and Lhong were well aware of Tharn's proclivities but even without the kinky stuff, he didn't abide by disrespect. And Type was being disrespectful—in public.

Tharn pulled Type down so he had to sit, "We will talk later."

"No. I want to know now."

It was like flipping a switch. One minute Tharn was charming and friendly, the next he was in full Dom mode. With the power of a whip cracking through the air he looked directly at Type and said, "Enough!"

Everyone at the table and a few from the tables beside them froze. Type looked at Tharn like he was trying to figure something out but his alcohol addled mind was no match. He hated feeling like a child who had just been chastised but it wasn't so bad. Tharn had not let go of his hand.

"We will talk later. Do you understand?" Tharn asked one last time.

Type was mutinous but he agreed with a sulky nod. He was about to take another sip from his glass but Tharn took it from him. He placed a bottle of water in front of Type, "Drink that."

The conversation around them cautiously started up again but Type didn't participate. He just listened as Tharn occasionally made a comment or observation. But he didn't care what they were saying. It was just something to do that didn't involve pulling Tharn out of the bar and insisting he talk to him. He knew better than to make that mistake twice.

"It's time to go home," Tharn said to Type a half-hour later.

Type was starting to sober up and he knew what he had done had only made Tharn angrier. He didn't want to be alone with him so he refused, "I'll go with Techno."

Looking across the table, it was funny to see Techno and Champ leaning against each other for support even though they were both sitting down.

"Techno can barely stand," Tharn pointed out earning a laugh from Type because it was funny to see his friends just as inebriated as he was.

Tharn ended up driving Techno home. With Type's help, they got him safely inside before heading back to their dorm where they planned to send Champ along. The entire drive was accomplished in dead silence. The longer it lasted the harder it was for Type to hold on to his feelings.

"Why are you being so..."

Tharn smiled when Type couldn't finish his attack even though he had barely managed to wait until their dorm room door was closed. He'd been perfectly fine as they carried an uncoordinated Champ to his room and left in the care of his roommate. But that was all he could manage.

"What the fuck is so funny?" Type asked moving into Tharn's space threateningly.

"What do you want from me?" Tharn asked calmly.

Type spattered at the mere suggestion that he wanted something from Tharn. His eloquent response serving only to make him look worse than he already did.

"Fuck you...nothing. I want nothing."

"It doesn't seem like nothing," Tharn coxed but it sounded like he was making fun of Type who turned away and folded his arms across his chest, "Just tell me. Do you miss me?"

"What...why would I miss you? Aren't you right there?" Type answered tossing his hands in Tharn's general direction but refusing to look him in the eye.

"Maybe it's not being here. Maybe it's something else."

Type could feel himself slip. He was no longer the one in control here. Tharn was messing with him and he didn't know what the rules were. It was time to quit before he found himself in a situation he couldn't get out of.

"Forget it. I'm too tired to play games."

"I'm not!" Tharn refuted. It wasn't loud or harsh. It was an absolute statement. There was no way to debate with him on it. When Type couldn't think of anything to say to that Tharn added, "I like to play games."

"What are you talking about now?"

Type really shouldn't have asked that.

Tharn pushed Type so he went face-first into his bed. Then he flipped him over so he's facing up. It didn't take much effort since Type was of a similar mind and half the effort came from him. But when they were finally face-to-face, Tharn leaned over him and pinned his hands above his head and pressed his thighs down by using his shin just above the knee. Type couldn't kick his feet or get free.

"This is what I mean."

Type didn't react. He couldn't. He had gone stock still the moment Tharn pressed him into the mattress and held him down. His breath was ragged and his eyes were wild. He was looking for a way out but the only thing he could see was Tharn. But Type didn't do anything and Tharn hoped it was because he didn't see him as a threat.

Before Type could go into a panic, Tharn reached for him with his free hand. Running his fingers over his cheek, the caress had the effect of forcing Type to acknowledge that Tharn was in fact holding him down. He couldn't deny it and he couldn't escape it. But he wasn't calming down.

Knowing the power of his voice Tharn leaned closer so he was able to talk softly and Type would still hear him.

"Close your eyes and breath. Remember this is just me, holding you. Nothing else. I'm holding you...and you're safe. Because you know I would never hurt you."

Type followed each instruction as it was given. His breath became even albeit still shallow and fast. The tension in his body leeched out little by little so he wasn't fighting Tharn's hold. Tharn eased up but didn't let go. Providing the anchor Type needed to ease his mind but no longer keeping him in a hold he couldn't escape. Instead of kneeling on him, he straddled his hips. Still sitting on his legs so Type couldn't lift his knees (and hit him in the groin) but not so he couldn't push him off if he was determined.

Tharn continued to caress him. His neck, his chest, his stomach. Mapping the contours of his body through the thin white t-shirt he was wearing. It was mechanical; designed to give Type a clue about his physical limitations. He expected Type to continue to relax. Instead, he reacted far too strongly. Arching into the touch. Seeking more of it like he was stuck in the desert and Tharn was the last freshwater oasis.

But Tharn didn't want him disappearing into the sensation. He held onto Type's chin and forced him to look at him.

"This is who I am," Tharn said. "I want submission. I want it from you. But I know you can't give it."

"How do you know?"

"Because you are a mouthy little shit who can't take orders from anyone. And I like you...enough that we can be friends."

"We are friends."

"And that is good enough. You're not gay and I don't do vanilla. So when I avoid you..." He got up from his position and stretched, "...and I don't make much of you..." He let go of his arms and sat beside him. "...it's for your own good. Do you understand?"

[Author's note: If you want a small taste of what Leo & Fiat would look like in a similar situation, head over the one-shots and read Hold Me (Down). Live in the comment HERE!]