Detoxified

Chapter 1: Episode 1

Type had been sitting on the edge of his bed, leg bouncing furiously, his hands fiddling with nervous energy, shoulders knotted-up with tight coils of tension for over an hour now. He should take a shower. He'd just gotten back from a long football practice and was absolutely disgusting right now, but he didn't want to miss his chance to catch Tharn when he'd inevitably return to the room.

Damn it. Stupid Techno and his stupid, giant blabber-mouth. If he just hadn't said anything after practice today, Type would have remained blissfully unaware, and his perception of Tharn wouldn't have instantly turned sour. Type could've gone the entire year with his kind, caring and friendly roommate without knowing a goddamn thing about him, and he would've been perfectly content.

But no. Techno had gone and said something, and now, here Type was, anxiously awaiting his roommate's return to the room, preparing himself for confrontation. After all, he had to at least confirm it was true, what Techno said. Type didn't want to rely on hearsay alone--that would be a rather large disservice to Tharn, especially in the case that Techno's information was actually flat-out wrong.

Type flinched when the door to the room swung open. Even though he'd been insistently waiting for this moment, the stress churning in the pit of his stomach and twisting painfully at his muscles just crept exponentially higher as he watched his roommate come into view.

"Oh, Type," Tharn said, sounding slightly puzzled. "You're back already?"

Type didn't usually arrive back at the dorm before Tharn on practice days. But today, Type had made an exception, leaving Champ and Techno to fend for themselves at their usual after-practice dive bar. He couldn't think of anything worse than visibly letting his sudden anxiety fester while his friends grilled him about it. Nope. Sitting in the room for the past hour alone with his thoughts was the superior option in this case.

"Have you eaten yet?" Tharn asked, and Type only distantly heard him. "I have some snacks, if you want."

Ugh , caring as ever. Tharn was only making it that much harder for Type to confront him.

Without responding to any of his roommate's previous questions, Type simply said, "Tharn," tone already sounding accusatory.

When he got a hum of acknowledgement from his roommate, Type added, "I have something to ask."

"About what?" Tharn slung his backpack carelessly onto his bed. "And why do you seem so tense?"

It was all Type had been hoping that Tharn wouldn't notice how antsy and flighty he knew he looked. Figured that his crazy-perceptive roommate would pick up on it as easily as he did.

Type knew that if he didn't just come out and ask it straight, he probably would lose all courage to do it later, so... Here goes. He slowly rose from his seat on the bed and asked, "are you gay?"

Silence. It was suffocating, too. Tharn had stopped rummaging through his backpack and stood rigidly, facing away from Type.

This wasn't going in a direction Type had been wanting it to go, was it?

"Well?" Type asked, impatience swelling inside him.

Silence again.

But eventually, Tharn did turn around, slowly, his posture evidently defensive. "Yes."

It was a simple reply, but despite its lack of extravagance, Type felt a sinking sensation plummet from his head all the way down to his feet, dizzying him. His mouth ran dry, his throat grew tight, his toes curled in his shoes, and his heart slammed against his sternum at the confirmation of his fears.