After Us

Chapter 9 : Realization

For the record, he wasn't trying to be annoying on purpose.

The last thing he wanted was to piss Type off more than he already did to begin with, but he just couldn't really help himself teasing him. He guessed it was just one of the many things he missed about Type, apart from the really obvious ones. The way he would give Tharn the stinky eye whenever he said or did something particularly bothersome, or how those thick eyebrows of his furrowed together in irritation as he looked Tharn over.

It was amusing and equal-parts charming, and Tharn didn't really realize how much he'd missed it until now that he was witnessing it up-close once again.

"Oh wow. Your father is already frowning. That's not good, that's not good at all," he grumbled under his breath, tightening his fingers around Type's own, ignoring Type's answering huff and turning to him with a toothy grin. He knew he was being playful - three explosive orgasms certainly had something to do with it - liking the fact that he was making Type smile in turn.

"But that's okay. You're with me. If he's planning on murdering me, maybe he'll try it later when you're not standing next to me. I'm safe until then." he mused, grinning some more when Type shook his head at him. "What?" he quipped, when Type didn't say anything.

"You're so dumb, Tharn," Type chuckled, exasperated, but the way he was rolling his eyes afterward told Tharn he was feeling anything but. Tharn snickered and squeezed their fingers together.

"My default feature when I'm with you, it seems." he winked.

"Wow, I feel like I should be offended. Fuck you."

He giggled. "Sure. Your room or mine?"

"Shut the fuck up, Tharn." Type grumbled without heat, looking down at their joined hands once again and rolling his eyes as if he couldn't help it.

He grinned. The look Type gave him when he reached for the other's hand earlier was so telling, but Tharn couldn't really care less. He would ask for permission if needed, but that confident part of him obviously couldn't be bothered. He knew he should be worried, walking Type home meant he was letting him leave again, but he didn't let it bother him. At least not now, not yet. He was still here with Type, and there were still plenty of opportunities to finish that talk and clear things out for the better.

He could wait. For now, he was going to sleep on the thought that he would be able to see Type again whenever he liked after tonight. It should be enough to calm his uncertainties down for now.

"Dad is going to kill you, Tharn. Just look at him. I bet he's already plotting your demise as we speak," Type murmured a moment later, sounding amused.

"You don't know that," he whined dramatically. "Stop it, okay? I'm getting nervous here." he retorted afterward, clutching at Type's hand for dear life.

Type rolled his eyes. "Look at you acting all brave earlier," Type huffed, "I thought you said my dad doesn't scare you, and yet here you are shaking like a leaf. Pathetic,"

"Can you even blame me? I still have nightmares about that day he chased after me with the machete," he huffed in return, tugging at their joined hands. "And please. I'm not shaking. You're imagining things," he lied through his teeth.

"Hah," Type countered, his nose in the air. "Seriously though. Are you going to keep holding my hand until we reach the house?" Type grunted under his breath, looking forlornly down their joined hands like he couldn't decide whether to be amused or annoyed or both.

"Yep."

Type chuckled, half-hearted at best but it was still so lovely to see him smile like that. "Coward."