Detoxified

Chapter 6 - Episode 5

Type was conflicted between sticking close to Tharn for the sake of comfort and putting at least a five-foot gap between them also for the sake of comfort... He didn't know which option would be more comforting in this situation.

This was weird. This was really weird. Two men don't just walk into a sexual health clinic together . Unless they were in a sexual relationship with one another. It wasn't like two guy-friends would make the voluntary and conscious decision to go and get STI tests together for shits and giggles. Literally no two men would do that.

Type, for probably the millionth time, internally cursed Tharn for having forgotten the fucking condom the night before... They wouldn't even be here if it weren't for that stupid mistake.

All these people-- dozens of people--in the waiting area could see Type and Tharn walking into the clinic together , and were bound to instantly think they were a couple, or friends with benefits, or whatever . Either way, Type was wildly unsettled by the prospect of having everyone in this clinic know about his relationship with Tharn. Because, as much as he had been opening-up lately, he was one-thousand-percent not ready to be that open.

And right now, he felt like everyone was just staring . Some just taking glances and returning to what they were doing, some looking curious and oddly bewildered, but others just looked... Mean. Even repulsed.

And Type's chest tightened painfully with the pressure of all the unwelcome looks and stares.

"Hey, Type?" Tharn said carefully. "What's wrong?"

Type was more than aware of the fact that he probably looked mortified, if his tight posture and round, darting eyes were any indication. "Nothing, just... Can we pretend we don't know each other? Just while we're here?"

There was a brief moment where Tharn looked positively affronted by the request, but the longer he scanned over Type's face, the more he realized just how anxious Type was; the question wasn't born out of some immature 'no-homo' mentality. It was genuine fear.

His gaze softening, Tharn took Type by the hand and led him to a more secluded nook, away from the crowds of people in the waiting room.

"Type..." Tharn's voice was gentle and warm. "What's going on?"

Type frowned and huffed a tired breath, his eyes staring down at his feet. "I don't like this," he admitted quietly. "I don't like people being able to take one look in our direction and just know about us."

Us ... Whatever 'us' meant.

"Everyone just started staring and giving us weird looks. It's not like they'd do that if a man and a woman walked in here together, or even two women . What makes us so different?" Type asked, a part of him realizing that, once upon a time, he would've probably given two men walking into a sexual health clinic together the side-eye as well.

But, damn it , now that it was happening to him , he just couldn't escape the gross crawling sensation of shame in his bones.

Tharn gently grabbed Type by the shoulders--there was no one around to see it or judge it, so Type let him, instantly melting into the warmth of those reassuring hands. "Type, do you want to know a secret I use in situations like this?"

Type lifted his head at that, his gaze imploring as he peered into Tharn's kind eyes. Yes, he would want to know that secret; anything to stop these disgusting, crawly feelings in his body. "What?"