Exquisite Torture

VI.

Tharn was at an impasse. It was one thing to know his own mind and to hold it back. Control was as much a part of his lifestyle as it was an aspect of his personality. He had already done what he could to come to terms with his situation. With the way he felt about Type and the fact that he couldn't go any further.

No matter his tough exterior, Type was a marshmallow on the inside—soft and sweet. He didn't want to be the one who took that away from him. Not like Tar had accused him of doing. 'Taking advantage of his weakness to turn him into his personal slave' was how Tar saw it.

Tharn would not do that to Type when he knew how fragile he really was.

But when Type looked at him the way he did, it was hard to remember all the reasons he shouldn't act on his feelings. Because Type looked at him a lot. The earlier confusion had been replaced by something else. Something that was unsettling and inviting and impossible. The longing and the desire so palpable other people had started to notice.

Tharn studied in the library instead of his room. He finished all his assignments and all the extra-credit requirements. But he still couldn't escape every aspect of his attraction. He spent the whole time at practice being teased by Lhong and Tum. It was amazing how accurate their guesses were. How many times they had suggested something that had already passed through his mind a thousand times already.

"Are you finally going to make a move on Type?" Tum asked when they finished their last set and Lhong was looking for the sheet music for their next one.

"I can't..."

"Why? Because he says he's straight?" Lhong asked derisively.

"Yes."

"You could convince him to change his mind," Lhong said with a shrug as he handed them the music for the next song.

"And how is that the basis of a healthy relationship?"

Tharn was beyond exasperated by their suggestions that he wasn't doing everything he could to resolve the situation. Of course, he wasn't doing anything; there was no situation to resolve. He and Type were roommates. There was nothing else between them and there never would.

"Dude...are you still looking for Mr. Right? I thought you had finally decided to settle for Mr. Right Now." Tum said mocking Tharn just to get a rise out of him.

"If that's what I wanted, you think I wouldn't just fuck whoever was available?"

"I think he's talking about you," Tum said to Lhong and Lhong had the audacity to pout at the suggestion that he was that easy.

"Listen friend, he wants you," Lhong said seriously, "You can see it in the way he looks at you. The way his eyes follow you whenever you are around him. If you're too chicken shit to make a move, that's on you. Don't take your frustration out on me just because I can't deal with your over possessive domineering ways."

Tharn had accepted he was the one unable to move on. If he continued to act like this, it was going to affect his ability to function. Not as a Dom but as a human being. So maybe what he needed was a good old fashion fuck. Get Type out of his system once and for all by getting something out of the whole mess.

Perhaps he could convince him to give him a try. Just once. Let them both experience what it's like to get off on each other and then get each other off. When Type realized it wasn't his cup of tea and Tharn couldn't in fact change his sexual orientation, they would go back to being friends.

Who was he kidding?
They would probably never speak again.

And in light of how he felt at the moment, that didn't seem like such a bad idea.

Tharn had made up his mind and once he knew what he was going to do there was no point in holding off. He waved goodbye to his bandmates and left before they could stop him. He arrived at his room and was happy to find it empty. He could collect his thoughts before Type got home.

He hadn't settled in when his peace was interrupted by the sound of someone calling out his name.

Tharn had heard people say his name in passion and it was easy to recognize what had inspired the shout. He just didn't know why Type was calling him. From the bathroom. Where he was most definitely doing to himself what Tharn wanted to do to him.

When he stepped out, covered in only a towel with drops of water still clinging to his skin, he looked good enough to eat. Tharn couldn't have asked for an easier opening.

Without preamble he asked, "Was there a reason you were shouting my name in the shower?"

"That was..." He blushed furiously.

It wasn't just a slight flush to his face, he was flustered and red all the way to the tips of his ears. And because he wasn't wearing anything, Tharn could see the colour moved down his neck and chest as well. He couldn't look at Tharn. His eyes trailing on the floor before he settled for a spot by the wall. Meanwhile, the hand holding on to his towel kept drawing Tharn's attention to his body.

His wet skin. His bare feet. The patch of hair that formed a trail that disappeared beneath the towel but was like a beacon leading a path to his crotch. The evidence of arousal was impossible to hide behind the shapeless towel. Lhong and Tum were right. If he didn't act immediately, it was because he was a coward, not because Type wasn't interested. But even if the attraction was real, Tharn's requirements weren't that easily met. He wanted everything.

So, he was going to ask for everything.

"Type...lie down on the bed."

"What...?"

It was simple. If Type complied with the single instruction, that would be his cue to follow through and take things to the next level. It was agreement enough of the possibility of what they could become. But if he refused, he would tease Type a little more about his extra-showering activities but that would be all.

Type looked like he might run. Like he was seriously contemplating returning to the bathroom—there was the option of a locked door to separate them. Seeing the fear sent a twinge through Tharn. He was tempted to soothe him but he didn't want to sway Type's decision in any way. The stakes were too high for him to falter now.

He had to wait.

It seemed like an eternity but Type finally moved. He lay down on the bed. His towel still firmly clutched in his hand. Looking straight up at the ceiling and not for a second realizing how much danger he was in.