After Us

Chapter 7 : Compromise

"Type?"

Type stilled in his arms on cue, prompting him to keep holding Type. The almost non-existent distance between them allowed him to feel everything, from the hitch on Type's breath and the way his whole body was shaking against him. It was worrying, to say the least, but Tharn hoped it wasn't something they couldn't fix through talking.

One of his hands found Type's trembling own, worming his fingers around Type's wrist and lifting it up to place it against his chest, just below his clavicle and guiding it there, palm splayed, letting Type feel the way his own heart was beating crazily underneath.

"Please say something," he breathed, turning to nuzzle the side of Type's temple. Another shudder racked through Type in answer, and Tharn tightened his hold around Type like an automatic reflex.

Still, Type said nothing. "Your silence is killing me, Type. I hope you know that." he murmured, shutting his eyes close and hoping he didn't sound as terrified as he felt.

He didn't want to admit it, but a huge part of him was afraid of what this unbearable silence meant. On one hand, it could be the shock that was preventing him from talking, but on the other, Tharn feared it could be something else.

Type could either be thinking hard, considering things in his head thus the silence. He could either be contemplating between walking away from Tharn now, the same way he did that morning two years ago, or he could be considering staying and working things out with him, the way Type should have done so instead of leaving.

He honestly hoped for the latter, but at this point, he really didn't know what else to expect.

"Talk to me, please?" he whispered, threading his fingers through Type's hair, half-hating the way he was so helplessly clinging to Type like this, knew he was nearing breaking point as he pushed closer and closer still until they were pressed so tightly together that not even air could pass between them.

He leaned forward then until they were almost nose to nose, buried both hands into Type's hair and breathed him in, hoping he wouldn't end up making things worse by saying what was on his heart and mind, just to make Type realize he meant every word. He knew it wasn't going to be easy, especially how their first meeting at the clinic went earlier, but the only thing he could do was try.

Type's fingers were on his hips, digging crescent-shaped marks on his skin, breathing unevenly against his neck as if he was contemplating so many things at once and couldn't decide on anything aside from holding onto Tharn for dear life. If Tharn had doubts about Type's feelings for him before, they were all gone now. It was just a matter of convincing Type of taking this chance with him, talk things out, compromise.

Fuck, he was ready to leave it all behind just to get this right, with Type, now.

"Type, please?"

Type shook his head against him, his dark hair tickling Tharn's skin. "What do you even want me to say, Tharn?" Type muttered, his mouth twisting ruefully at the edges that it was heartbreaking to watch. He gestured with his hand to the space between them, contemplating. "This isn't...We're not -"

"I understand," he cut in, "So, let's start with what's important, then," he follwed, cupping Type's chin to raise his head until he was finally looking at Type's face, the brown of his eyes that mesmerize him from the very first time he laid his eyes on them.

"Don't you want to be with me?" he asked, his chest heaving hard.

The sound Type made upon hearing that made Tharn's heart swell in his chest.

"Don't you, Type?"

Type remained quiet, breathing harshly and Tharn let him. He knew how hard it must be for Type, so Tharn vowed to be patient with him. Type must have anticipated something else instead of being offered a do-over, and it could be given his reaction, and to be honest, Tharn couldn't exactly blame him.