Exquisite Torture

XI.

Type couldn't stop thinking about everything he and Tharn had done. Without his intending to, it showed. His longing was palpable. But he couldn't escape it. When he moved, he could feel the ache of Tharn's penetration and it just made him hard all over again. When he looked at his face in the mirror, he could see how his lips were pink and swollen, a reminder of the kisses Tharn hadn't stopped giving him. Not even after the sex was over.

Nobody could have told him that after years of feeling like a freak he would like the feeling of anticipation, the pain and the pleasure. The control Tharn exhibited over him and with him. He liked the freedom and the release given to him by Tharn's willingness to take it from him and still take care of him.

But he couldn't get enough of it.

It was so bad that he felt like he was perpetually walking around with a hard-on. It wasn't so far from the truth. It took so little to remind him of what he'd shared with Tharn that even the lightest touch, the most innocent look or the simplest memory could have him right back on his bed with Tharn over him; fucking him. Replacing his nightmares with wet dreams. Slaying his demons and planting desires.

Type didn't want to think too much about it. He was afraid he would become completely obsessed and he'd be begging Tharn to do all sorts of things to him—all the time. But he couldn't deny (at least to himself) that he loved the way it felt to be with Tharn.

The only real problem he could think of was how much he hated words like control and power. They remind him of a time when he didn't have a choice. When power and control had been used to hurt him. When he hadn't wanted what was being done to him and he couldn't stop it. He had a choice now and it felt a little topsy turvy in his head. Because it was the choice to give up that choice.

But what if Tharn didn't need him the way Type needed him. What if he didn't make a move? Was Type free to ask for what he wanted? Would Tharn even allow that? He couldn't stop thinking about it until he was vibrating with the need to know. The minute they were released from their class, Tharn didn't even acknowledge Techno, he grabbed his books and his bag and headed straight to the music department.

He was lucky to find Tharn also leaving a class. It would have been so much harder to find him otherwise and Type thanked his lucky stars. He waited until Tharn noticed him and broke away from his friends.

"Hey...what are you doing here?"

Type he didn't acknowledge Tharn's greeting. The minute he was within arms-length, Type pulled him until he found an empty classroom. Rounding on him, Type tried to find the words but they stuck in his throat.

Finally, too frustrated with himself he said, "What if..."

"Type...what's going on?"

"I wanted to know..."

"Yes...?"

"What if I want...I need..." The words wouldn't come out.

Tharn leaned in and Type leaned back to get away from him. But Tharn just moved in a little closer and whispered, "What if...you need me to hold you down?"

Type wanted to die. Could he be that predictable? But he was also so horny he wasn't sure he could move without making a scene. Without his body betraying all the thoughts and desires he'd been holding in his head. But Tharn's next words were like a bucket of cold water on his ardour.

"When you need me, just beg for it...on your knees...at my feet...with your head down."

"Hey...that's..."

"Or you can wait until I feel the need," Tharn shrugged and walked away with a wave leaving Type feeling desperate and angry at the same time. He couldn't do that. He could never go down on his knees and beg. Not for Tharn, not for anyone. But even as he denied it he had to adjust his erection because it was pressing into the zipper of his pants.

He would never...or wouldn't he?

Type resisted every urge he had to capitulate to Tharn's demand. It was one thing for them to play when they were both having fun but what was the point of humiliating him like that? But his denial didn't serve him. He still had dreams about it. Waking up panting and sweating...and hard as fuck that the only remedy was to jerk off.

But jerking off never fully satisfied him. Sometimes, it only made things worse.

Playing football helped but even that had taken on a tinge of Tharn's flavour. He couldn't have a massage without it sending him back to their first night together. It was increasingly difficult for him to let anyone else touch him. Every touch, even the most innocent pat on the back made him think of Tharn and whenever he thought of Tharn it was impossible to think of anything but the way it felt when he had him pinned to the bed. Consuming him with pleasure—and whether he admitted it or not—processing him with his power.

Type was so desperate for it. But he wouldn't bend. Yet he also had no other way to ease his own discomfort.

It was even worse because he couldn't avoid Tharn. For some reason, their friends had come together and decided they liked each other so it wasn't unusual to start an evening out with Techno only to end up hanging out with Tharn, Tum and Lhong as well. But what Type couldn't stand was how Tharn looks supremely unaffected.

Type finally snapped after an evening of watching Tharn act like everything was fine. He hadn't touched Type in more than a week. Hadn't even looked at him for more than a few seconds at a time. He was polite and considerate and he hadn't gone back to avoiding Type, but he wasn't present either.

They were in the middle of some random conversation when Type finally had enough. He pulled Tharn away from the table although it was more because he wanted him away from his friends rather than seeking privacy.

"What are you playing at?"

"Type..." Tharn answered with a clear warning in his tone.

"No...I want to know. Did you get what you wanted and now your just...what? You're done with me?"

"Type...we will not have this conversation here."

Nothing about Tharn's tone was inviting and Type finally threw his hands in the air and walked out. He was waiting by Tharn's car when he finally made it out of the bar. He was alone and Type was glad. What he had to say could wait until they were back in their room. And the trip there was too familiar. Silence all the way until they entered the dorm.