Love Me Little

Though Not Alone 1/1

Summary: The inevitable happens but Tharn and Type are stronger together.

Notes: This story contains memories of significant non/dub-con and abusive behavior. None of it is happening in the present but the memories are explicit enough to be triggering. All memories appear in italics and can be skipped. You'll miss a bit of nuance but the main story will still make sense without them.

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"Don't." Type could hardly draw a breath, shoved face-down into the bed as he was. "Stop. I...it hurts."

Bun leaned in harder. "It's gonna feel good, sweetheart. Happy birthday."

He choked as Bun pushed in harder. "I didn't want—"

Bun kissed his shoulder. "I couldn't wait any longer. You're just too sexy. I needed to make you mine before someone else did."

Closing his eyes, Type held back a sob. It was starting to feel good, so Bun must be right.

Type ignored the tears that were falling and focused on doing what Bun wanted.

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Barely awake, Tharn rolled over to kiss Type on the cheek but got a mouth full of saltwater. What the...? Blinking, he stared down at his boyfriend, who was crying in his sleep. "Type," he said, alarmed.

Type didn't move.

Tharn shook his shoulder. "Type, wake up. Wake up!" He could see the moment when Type became aware of where he was, scrubbing the tears away quickly as if it would keep Tharn from seeing them. "Hey, sweetheart, are—"

"Don't call me that!" Type sat bolt upright, almost bashing Tharn in the face with his skull.

"Right. No nicknames." Tharn moved as slowly as he could. "Sorry, I forgot."

Type turned away on the bed, but he didn't get up, which Tharn had learned meant he needed a hug. Scooting noisily over, he wrapped his arms around Type and held him firmly. As always, it took a few minutes before the tension seeped out of Type and he relaxed back against Tharn.

Tharn sighed. It had been over a month since Type had a nightmare and he'd rather hoped that was the end of them.

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They made it to work mostly on time and separated in the garage as they always did. Type was still quieter than normal but seemed to be on the mend.

By mid-afternoon, after a hurried lunch, Tharn was buried up to his eyebrows in a minor crisis, mostly of his underlings' making. He was irritated and wished for a moment that Type could come work for him. Type could have sorted this mess out before it ever made it onto Tharn's desk and he would growl at the people who caused it.

Tharn's lovely daydream was interrupted by a call from his secretary. "Yes?"

"It's security, sir. They said you wanted to be notified if a certain person tried to enter."

Tharn sat up straight, breath catching in his throat. "Which building did he try to get into?"

"This one."

Fuck. Tharn took a deep breath. "They turned him away, right?"

"Yes."

"Tell them I'll be down in a minute."

His secretary, unflappable under most circumstances, paused. "You're...going to the security office?"

Fingers digging into the leather of his chair, Tharn tried to think rationally. He shouldn't. It would look odd for him to attend to this personally. "Right, of course not. Thank you."