Mother hen
Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at [Link]
Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: M/M
Fandom: เกลียดนักมาเป็นที่รักกันซะดีๆ | TharnType: The Series (TV)
Relationship: Tharn Thara Kirigun/Type Thiwat Phawattakun
Additional Tags: Explicit Sexual Content, Phone Sex, Dirty Talk, Masturbation, Episode
tag: episode 8, you know you're struggling to write fic, when the most
interesting thing that happens in an ep is a conversation about a baby
bump
Language: English
Series: Part 21 of Pet Names
Stats: Published: 2020-12-26 Completed: 2020-12-31 Words: 5,184 Chapters:
2/2
Mother hen
by iffervescent
Summary
Phone sex
Now with NYE 2nd chap!
Notes
This was…a tricky episode to try and get inspiration to write for (big thanks to everyone on
tumblr who messaged me with ideas and encouragement!). I’m feeling weirdly irritated that
Tharn went behind Type’s back about the issues with his boss? I'm so glad that the boss is
finally out of the way but I feel it's such bad writing...one of the things I’d liked about their
relationship development was Tharn giving Type space to stand on his own two feet. This
feels – like the rest of season 2 writing! – like the last seven years didn’t happen?
So, in traditional Pet Names fashion, I am once again trying to fix it 👍
Chapter 1
“Dude! Are you on your phone again?! You and your boyfriend are like – what’s that word…
co-dependent.” Gil says with a grumble. “You know that shit’s not healthy right?”
Tharn flips him off without looking up. His boyfriend just got fired/rage-quit, the least Tharn
can do is be available whenever he needs to talk. Gil needs to get off his back.
“Some stuff happened at his work,” he says vaguely. “I’m being a supportive boyfriend.
Anyway, you haven’t even finished setting up for the next session yet so I’ve got nothing else
to do!”
“Tch.” Gil mutters, but he takes the hint and grabs the box of recording tech. “There’s
supportive, and then there’s carrying him so much he forgets how to walk on his own.”
Tharn wants to make a mean comment about whether Gil’s over his ex yet, but Type’s
responding in monosyllables and refusing to say whether or not he’s eaten and that’s way
more important. Tharn threatens to send Techno round to check on him unless Type sends
him a picture of his lunch within the next half hour and by the time he looks up Gil has
already disappeared into the recording studio with half the boxes and Tharn’s on his own. He
turns up the volume on his phone so he can hear if Type calls or texts and shoves it into his
pocket with a frown.
They’re not codependent. Type just needs him sometimes, and Tharn likes being needed.
There’s nothing wrong with that at all.
He pulls his phone back out.
I’ll call you tonight, he texts, and gets a stop sign and a lightning bolt in response, which
make him grin as he tucks his phone away to go pick up a speaker.
Psh. What does Gil know anyway.
“Tharn! You don’t need to check up on me all the time like a mother hen,” Type grumbles
down the phone, and Tharn grins up at his hotel room ceiling. There’s a special place in his
heart for Type’s grumbling voice, and even more so when he can hear the happiness
underneath it.
“Ahh, so you don’t want to check up on me as well?” he asks. “Most people would want to
know if their travelling boyfriend was being good and loyal –”
“If you cheat on me I’ll cut off your balls and stomp on them.” Type snaps instantly. “And
then I’ll tell your mother and Thanya on you!”
Ooof, that’s a worse threat than normal. Tharn makes a humming noise.
“My mother would disown me if I cheated on you. Anyway, she said she was going to invite
you over to lunch this week…?”
“She said, or you told her to ask me so she can report back to you on how I’m doing?” Type
asks, wry amusement in his voice. “I’m going to lunch at your mother’s this week, you can
quit fussing!”
Tharn also told his mother to ask Type just so he could be reassured he’d eaten properly for at
least one meal. He hates that he was travelling when all this stuff with Type’s boss blew up –
trying to take care of his boyfriend from afar is so difficult!
“Ah, good, give Thanya a hug from me,” he asks, and Type agrees instantly. Now that
Tharn’s riled him up he talks more freely, chatting about having tea with Nong Gun again and
how he’s cleaned the entire kitchen from top to bottom. Tharn hums along, just happy to hear
his voice. Also he’s picturing Type on his hands and knees, scrubbing the kitchen floor, his
little bum waggling back and forth…
“You horndog, are you imagining fucking me over the kitchen counters?” Type asks suddenly
and Tharn coughs.
“No!” Technically not a lie. “Why would you think that?”
“Your voice goes deeper when you’re being a pervert.” Type says almost fondly. Tharn
presses the phone closer against his ear, wishing with every fibre of his being that Type were
here lying next to him, threatening to hit him with a pillow for being a perv. His hotel room
feels cold and echoing without Type’s warmth to bring it to life.
“But I didn’t say anything!”
“You were breathing deeper as well!”
“Ahhh my boyfriend knows me so well,” Tharn purrs. He can imagine the pouty expression
on Type’s face so well, that pink lower lip just begging for a kiss…“He knows exactly when
his hubby wants some loving…”
“Ugh!” Type makes a spluttering noise and Tharn shakes with silent laughter. Already his
hotel room feels a little less lonely. “Why are you always so horny?”
“Because I love you so much.” Tharn says honestly, and enjoys the silence that follows it
because he knows precisely what Type’s face is doing this time as well, those dark lashes
dipping down as he blushes, the tiny smile hovering around his mouth…
Type clears his throat and Tharn hears him shifting around on the bed.
“What – what were you imagining me doing then?”
Oh. Ohhhhhhhh. Oh, yes, this is a good idea.
Tharn lets his hand drop down to rest over his groin, letting the heat of his hand send the first
pulses of arousal through him. He can hear Type shifting some more, half-nervous and half-
excited.
“Ai Type, do you really want me to tell you what I was thinking hmmmm? I thought I told
you to be a good boy and wait for me.”
Type’s always a good boy. They so rarely spend a night apart, but whenever they do, Type is
always so beautifully good for him. He never touches himself unless Tharn says so. It makes
Tharn hotter than almost anything else, thinking about Type getting more and more desperate
but holding off because Tharn said so, waiting to have Tharn’s hands on him again before he
gets to come.
“I’ve been good!” Type’s insistence is clear down the phone. “But this – you’d be doing this
with me…” he trails off, sounding embarrassed, and Tharn is about to tease him some more
when he adds in a smaller voice. “And I miss you.”
“I miss you too Type.” Tharn says instantly. God, he does, he really does. It’s not just the
physical, missing the smell of Type’s skin and his warmth beside him – he misses Type’s
presence too. The way the sight of him can cheer Tharn up no matter his mood. How peaceful
Tharn feels coming back to the home they share every night. The security of knowing that no
matter what, he’ll have Type in his life.
The phone’s pressed so tight to his ear he can hear the tiny sound of Type licking his lips,
before his voice comes down the line soft and hesitant.
“So, what…what were you thinking about me doing?”
Tharn breathes out heavily, feeling his cock start to fill under his hand. First things first.
“Where are you?” he asks, and wow Type wasn’t kidding, his voice has gone deeper already.
“Bedroom.”
“What are you wearing?”
“Um…boxers and t-shirt.”
“Take them off.” Tharn wants him naked, wants to close his eyes and picture Type naked on
their bed. There’s some distant rustling noises and then Type comes back.
“What – what about you?”
“Hmmm? Are you asking what I’m wearing, or are you asking if I’m hard for you already?”
Tharn grins at the noise Type makes and shoves his trousers down so he can pull out his cock.
Of course he’s already hard for him. Type can smile at him and he gets hard.
He can. It’s happened at least three times. Two of them in public.
“Are you?” Type demands. Tharn laughs and strokes himself slowly, letting the breath come
out slowly.
“Of course I am. I’m picturing you naked in our bed – hey, Type! Send me a picture.” For a
second he considers telling Type to videocall him, but he has plans for both of Type’s hands
and there’s no good place to set up the phone. Next time he has to go away he’ll plan ahead.
“What? No!”
“Tyyyype. Send me a picture. I want to see my handsome boyfriend all hard and sexy for
me.”
“You whine so much,” Type hisses. His voice fades in and out as he moves and Tharn takes
the moment to plump up the pillow behind his head and lick his hand several times. Next
time he will definitely plan ahead.
The clicking noise of Type’s camera makes his dick jerk in his hand. He nearly drops his
phone fumbling to open it.
Oh fuck. Oh fuck his boyfriend is beautiful. Type’s managed to get almost all of him in the
shot, from his mess of tousled hair and bitten-pink lips right down to where his cock is
already hard against his belly. Tharn can see the flush in his cheeks and the slight shine at the
head of his cock and licks his own lips at the thought.
“Fuck, Type, I wish I was there, I want to hold you down and put my mouth on you –”
“Tharn…” Type’s voice trails off and then he makes this little noise, guttural and soft, and
Tharn knows he’s touching himself –
“Type! Take your hand away,” he orders, and hears another noise, high and needy, and then
the sound of Type panting raggedly.
“Tharn…!” Type whines, and Type squeezes himself round the base. He feels hot all over
now, like just hearing Type is enough send his arousal into overdrive.
“Don’t touch your cock until I say so.” Tharn says, trying to sound calm when he mostly just
wants to listen to Type jerk off until they both come. But his boyfriend needs some TLC and
Tharn’s the best person to give it to him. “Get the lube out of the drawer and get your fingers
wet.”
More fumbling noises. Tharn strokes himself slow and steady whilst he waits, his toes
already curling in anticipation. He knows Type’s done what he asked when he hears another
soft noise.
“Good boy,” he murmurs. “Now reach down and open yourself up for me. Get yourself nice
and wet if you need to.”
He hears when Type pushes the first finger inside, hears when he starts to pry himself open.
At some point he realises he’s jerking himself hard and there’s pre-come dripping over his
fist – his body knows the sound of Type’s hole getting stretched open just as well as he does.
“How are you doing baby?” he asks, and Type makes a furious needy noise.
“Arsehole! Let me touch myself –”
“How many fingers do you have in you?” Tharn interrupts. He knows it can’t be more than
two, but he wants to hear Type say it. Wants to picture Type’s hole pink and stretched around
them.
“T…two.”
“Only two?” Tharn tuts. “My fingers are bigger than yours, that’s hardly anything. Put
another finger inside, I want to hear you.”
Type’s breathing speeds up as he shifts around to get the angle. Tharn’s hips come off the bed
of their own accord when he hears it, the sharp breath Type makes when he’s stretched open
even wider.
“More lube.” Tharn orders, and hears the squelch of the bottle, and the sound Type makes
when his fingers slide back inside him. “Good. You have to be nice and wet baby. How do
you feel?”
“Full.”
“Full? You’re not full.” Tharn rubs at the head of his cock feeling the pleasure jerk sharp and
furious through him. “When I’m back and I’m fucking you, then you’ll feel full.”
“Please…”
“God Type I’m going to fuck you so well. Get so deep in you.” Tharn mutters. He’s closed
his eyes, everything focused on the wet sounds coming down the phoneline as Type fucks
himself on his fingers, gasping with every motion. “Maybe you should do this every night
huh baby? Keep yourself wet and ready for me for when I get home?”
“When are you back?” Type begs, a high note in his voice that makes Tharn pause for a
second, but then Type moans desperately and Tharn starts jerking himself faster, his whole
body keyed up and ready to go. Fuck if he was there he would have spread Type wide
already, shoved his thighs apart and got in between them, be pressing his cock inside Type
right this instant –
“I’m back soon and I’ll fuck you so good when I’m home.” Tharn groans. Type’s just started
saying please over and over and his gasps have gone high and hurting. His fingers aren’t deep
enough, he needs Tharn’s cock, he needs Tharn –
“Touch your cock.” Tharn orders. Type does and it’s like someone’s lit a match under Tharn’s
skin, he can see it so clearly, Type writhing on their bed, one hand on his cock and the other
shoved inside him, the way his hips and his abs move as he gets closer and closer –
“Ah, Tharn, Tharn –” he hears, and then he’s coming himself as Type moans down the
phone, come spurting out over his hand and the bottom of his shirt. Fuck it’s good, not as
good as the sweet clutch of Type’s body but the anticipation, knowing how desperately Type
needs him, knowing how good he’s going to fuck him when he’s back.
The hotel room feels less weird and more gross now as Tharn looks around. He’s filled up
some of the empty spaces with the sound of Type’s name, but also he’s very aware that the
room now smells of his come and he’s supposed to be staying here another ten days. He looks
around for the towel he usually keeps at the side of the bed and the gives up and wipes his
hand on the bottom of his shirt instead, seeing as it’s already ruined.
“Tharn? Tharn?” comes a little voice from the phone and Tharn realises he came so hard he
let it drop down in between the pillows. He hurriedly scoops it up and presses it to his ear.
“Ah, Type, that was so good –”
“Tharn.” Type says again and something’s wrong, he doesn’t sound sleepy and happy the
way he should, he sounds high and tense and all the tension comes rushing back into Tharn’s
body.
“Type? What’s wrong? Tell me.”
“I just…when are you back?” comes the reply and Tharn is instantly on the alert. There’s a
note in Type’s voice that he can’t identify, something he hasn’t heard in years and years.
“Soon, baby. Only a few more days.” Already his brain is calculating whether he can get back
home a day or two earlier, even whilst a bigger bit of it is trying to figure out what’s wrong.
Why isn’t Type happy? This doesn’t feel like the stress of not having a job – Type knows
Tharn can support them both for a while, and the hospital agreed to give him a good
reference for a new job, in apology for Type’s boss’s poor behaviour (which was straight up
bullying and harassment in Tharn’s mind, but Type insists he doesn’t want to take it further).
What is upsetting Type that Tharn doesn’t know about?
“Okay,” Type is agreeing quietly (which would be weird enough all on its own), sighing a
little down the phone. Tharn grips it so tight his fingers hurt.
“Type…was that not good for you?”
“Oh,” Type sounds like he’s already forgotten about the sex. “Yeah, of course. It’s always
good with you.”
“Are you okay? You sound…” he doesn’t know what word to use. “Far away.”
“I feel far away.”
“From me?”
“From…everything.” Tharn’s concern is mounting by the second and Type can clearly hear
him just as easily. “Tharn! Don’t be a mother hen again! I’m fine. I just don’t know what to
do with myself at the moment. It’ll be fine once you’re home.”
For a second Gil’s words from earlier drift through Tharn’s mind and he shakes them away.
Type can walk on his own just fine. He just misses Tharn as much as Tharn misses him.
But…Tharn remembers Type’s face when he’d asked Tharn not to get involved in his work
problems. He’d been tired, and worn down, and lashing out…but there’d been a core of steel
to him, a determination that he wanted to deal with things on his own terms, that no matter
how hard it got he’d see it through. Tharn can’t hear any of that determination now.
“Type…Type, I love you,” he offers, and some of his worry eases away at the gentle noise
Type makes in response, one that could never be faked.
“I know you do.” Type replies. “Come home to me soon.”
The line goes dead and Tharn looks forlornly at his phone for a long moment, as though if he
wishes it enough then Type will magically be back on the line. He makes sure the volume’s
still turned up as loud as it will go and plugs it in, just in case Type calls in the night. His
come and shirt both are starting to stick to his skin, which is definitely getting gross.
He sits up to go shower and pauses, looking around the room again. Whatever magic hearing
Type’s voice brought to it has already faded, and it’s just a cold empty hotel room again and
his boyfriend is miles and miles away without him. Tharn feels a curl of sadness inside his
chest, and then a stronger one as he remembers the strange tone to Type’s voice. He slowly
starts to think that maybe there could have been another way to approach everything, one
that…one that let his boyfriend walk on his own, rather than cutting him off at the knees.
Tharn takes a deep breath in and lets it out. It’ll be okay. He’ll be home soon and they can
talk and sort everything out. As long as nothing else happens in the meantime, they’ll be fine.
Chapter 2
Chapter Notes
Happy New Year everyone! I wrote this in an hour as a tiny gift for all the TT &
MewGulf fans out there, please forgive any mistakes!
(Also I have done some more conversation about what happened with Type’s boss. I
know lots of people have different ideas about what happened, but I really just wanted to
show them talking about it more, to show that their relationship is stronger and more
developed over 7 years. And then a bit of cute sexytimes to finish off 2020! I hope you
enjoy ❤)
Tharn rolls over onto his back in the middle of the hotel bed and huffs at the ceiling. He
hasn’t been sleeping well the last few nights and he deliberately went to bed early to try and
catch up on sleep.
Instead he’s been rolling around in the covers for hours, with dry eyes and a heavy heart.
He misses Type.
Normally when they are apart it is because Type has gone home to visit his parents. Tharn
can stay at the flat, in their bed, where he can still smell salt-and-sunshine on their pillows
and know that Type will come home to him soon. Or sometimes he spends a night at his
parents’ house, in his old room, where being surrounded by his family means he doesn’t miss
his boyfriend as much. Nights like this, in a strange hotel room…
He hates nights like this. And especially because he knows Type needs him right now.
Tharn sighs and rolls over again, grabbing his phone from the bedside table. Maybe just a
little message, so that when Type wakes up he will know Tharn was thinking of him in the
middle of the night…
Miss you in my arms, he sends. His phone beeps a second later.
So cheesy
And then –
Miss you too
Ahhh, why is Type awake so late at night? Tharn lasts about three seconds before he presses
call.
“Type? You should sleep soon, it’s late.”
“Hey! You should say the same to yourself!” Type grumbles down the line. “Unless you are
out with Gil and the others…?”
“Mmmmm, no, I’m in bed. I just can’t sleep without you.” Tharn admits, and smiles at the
soft little breath he gets in return. Type is sometimes so exasperated that Tharn can
just say things like that, but for Tharn it’s the easiest thing in the world to let the person he
loves know how much he loves them. “Type? Why are you still awake?”
There’s a small rustle. “Can’t sleep. Keep thinking about things.”
Tharn shifts around till he’s comfortable, keeping the phone next to his head. It’s late and the
world feels quiet and peaceful, like there’s only him and Type in the world. Sometimes Tharn
wishes that was true.
“Ahhh. Do you…do you want to talk about them?” he offers, and there’s a long silent pause.
He licks his lips and is just about to suggest something else when Type starts talking again.
“I keep thinking about my boss. My old boss. About…everything that I didn’t say, and didn’t
do, and -”
“Ai Type…you should let go of things like that. Otherwise they’ll go round and round in your
head forever.” Tharn says urgently. He doesn’t want Type twisting himself in knots,
especially over that arsehole. Doc contacted him with more details, all the bits that Type left
out when he told Tharn the story. Tharn now knows that Type only hit his boss because of the
rude comments he said about Tharn – that Type wasn’t standing up for himself, but for
Tharn.
Sometimes Tharn doesn’t think he could love Type any more than he does, and then
something like this happens, and he realises there is always space for his heart to grow larger
so he can love Type more.
“Tch, I know that.” Type says grumpily. “I’m just – I’m just so mad at myself! I kept thinking
I could get through it, I just needed to tough it out, and it kept getting worse and…” his voice
trails off and Tharn quickly presses up the volume on his phone, “…and then you had to save
me.”
Tharn feels a little flicker of guilt at that. Type had specifically asked him not to get involved.
He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath in. He owes it to Type, to his boyfriend’s strength
and determination, to make sure he understands why Tharn did what he did.
“Type. I didn’t save you. That man…he was an abusive bully, he would have kept harassing
you, and others. It was Doc who saved you really. He saved you for the sake of the hospital.
There’s nothing any one person could have done for themselves, it had to be done like that.”
Type makes a humming noise in his chest and Tharn breathes out as well. He wants so badly
for Type to understand that nothing that happened to him was his fault. It was easy for him
and Doc – they were on the outside looking in. Type was trapped in the middle, unable to see
a way out.
“Doc was doing it for the hospital?”
“Yes. Before he told me and Champ, he had already noticed strange things and spoken to his
uncle. He already knew there was a problem and wanted to investigate – we just had some
suggestions about what to do.” He suddenly figures out what the most important thing to say
is. “Type – once Doc had the evidence, we were going to tell you everything. I just didn’t
want you to be more stressed until he had the evidence.” Also none of them had thought that
Type would be any good at lying or covering stuff up – his boyfriend was far too honest for
that. Tharn doesn’t regret at all trying to keep Type free of even a tiny bit of stress, but it’s
suddenly clear to him that Type needs to know for a fact that Tharn was never trying to go
behind his back.
“You were going to tell me?”
“Yes – Doc was, so you could give your statement as part of the evidence, and encourage
others to come forward too. But then…everything happened so quickly…he had to go to the
Director with what he had already.”
There is a long pause where he listens to Type’s breathing down the phone. Tharn closes his
eyes even though the room is dark already, and tries to pretend that he’s in their room at
home, that Type is just lying next to him.
“I’m glad you told me that.” Type says. There’s a hitch in his voice that makes Tharn want to
cover his face in kisses. “It was…the worst thing was that I thought no one else could see it.
That they couldn’t see how he treated me, or didn’t care enough to stand up for me…but if
Doc could see it, and wanted to be on my side…”
“He did! He just needed proof, to stop that arsehole once and for all.” Tharn says quickly. Of
course! That’s what would have meant the most to Type, against all that nasty gossip – he just
wanted to know that someone believed him.
“Thank you,” Type whispers, and Tharn’s heart skips in his chest in relief. “Thank you – for
getting involved, to help me when I was stuck.”
“Always. I will always, always, be by your side.” Tharn says. “I never want you to suffer like
that.”
“Mmmmm, you’re such a sap.” Type says, and Tharn can hear his smile down the phone.
“You want to be my white knight in shining armour.”
“Hmmm well sometimes you are a spoilt princess,” Tharn teases him, and hears a soft thump
that sounds like Type has punched a cushion.
“Tharn – I want to see you, can I see you?”
“Yes.” Tharn would love that. He quickly switches on the bedside lamp and then changes to
videocall. They have tried this before but the connection was so bad it kept freezing – this
late at night the signal is better, and a second later Type’s face appears on his screen. He is –
he’s wearing one of Tharn’s shirts.
“Baby,” Tharn whispers. “Type, you’re so handsome, you look so sexy in my clothes.”
“Shut up right now.” Type snaps, blushing instantly.
“Is it because you miss me? Because you wish I was there holding you?”
“You know it is.” Type grumbles. His hair is all messy and he looks cute and sleepy. Tharn
grins mischievously and makes kissing noises and pouty faces until he finally bursts out
laughing, and Tharn can see the dimples in his cheeks and how his nose scrunches up.
“Unbutton it for me,” he asks softly, and Type goes even pinker. Tharn can see him swallow
hard even on the tiny screen, and then his hand slowly comes up to undo the buttons one by
one. Tharn feels his mouth go dry as every inch of skin is slowly revealed, the camera
travelling down until Type’s fingers brush along the waistband of his boxers.
“Why don’t you show me how much you miss me?” Tharn says. Type makes a soft noise and
the muscles in his stomach jump, but a second later he’s wriggling his boxers down until
Tharn can see his pretty pink cock, already starting to get hard. “Good, you’re ready for me
already.”
“Always.” Type mutters, almost too quiet to hear. “Always want you.”
“Good boy,” Tharn breathes out. His own cock is pressing against the covers but he’s too
busy watching Type to even think about himself. “Go on, keep going.”
It’s the worst kind of torture, watching Type touch himself, occasionally telling him to speed
up or slow down, watching as his cock gets harder and starts leaking all over his fist. Even on
his tiny phonescreen Type looks good enough to eat and the noises –
“Tharn – wish you were here – want you to touch me –”
“I want to suck you.” Tharn says, already thinking about the noises Type would make if
Tharn could put his mouth on him right now, hold his hips down and swallow around his
cock till Type is begging to come. “I want to suck you off till you’re exhausted and then I’ll
fuck your mouth till I come.”
“Are you going to do that?” Type asks instantly. “As soon as you’re home, you should do
that.”
Tharn laughs from somewhere in his chest. The second Type opens the door Tharn is going to
have him in the hallway. He’ll probably fuck him against the wall with half his clothes still
on. If they’re lucky he’ll remember to close the door, otherwise the entire corridor is going to
hear the noises Type makes when he’s getting pounded.
“I will,” he promises, groaning at the thought. He’s grabbed himself in his boxers now,
feeling how wet they are. “As soon as I get back I’m dragging you to bed.”
“Oh, fuck, Tharn – fuck.” Type’s hips are moving like he’s thinking about getting spread
wide and fucked. Tharn feels the tension all over his body.
“Come on Type, I want to watch you come all over yourself. Make a mess for me,” he orders,
and Type whines, high and desperate, and then he’s coming, thick wet spurts going all over
his belly. The view goes tilted when he drops the phone but Tharn can still see his panting
chest and a corner of his face, eyes closed as he gasps for breath. It’s enough for Tharn to put
his head down and groan as he comes inside his boxers, balls aching at the thought of how
long he has to wait until he can put his hands on Type again.
He keeps his eyes closed as they both lie there panting, and it’s almost as though Type is in
the bed next to him. Soon. Soon.
“You better not blame me for this,” Type says in a grumpy voice, and Tharn cracks open an
eye to see him holding up a corner of the shirt to the camera. It’s smeared in come. “It was
definitely your fault.”
Tharn laughs. “Okay – my fault. Don’t worry, you can wear all the rest of my clothes until
I’m back.”
Type yawns so wide his jaw cracks. “You should come home soon.” His eyes are blinking
closed already.
“I will,” Tharn promises. “I will.” He feels exhausted too, but in a good way. He feels better
because Type feels better. Not for the first time Tharn curses this work trip. If he’d been
home he would have explained immediately, made sure Type knew that he wasn’t being left
out, that no one was doing things behind his back – that everything Tharn does and will ever
do is for him. Conversations over phone are never the same, but what’s important is that they
had one. Seven years has taught them both how to communicate better.
“Tharn…” Type murmurs, already snuggling into the blankets. Tharn traces over his cheek
on the phone screen.
“Go to sleep. I’ll wait here until you’re asleep,” he says, and Type nods and yawns at the
same time. His lips purse as he blows a little kiss and Tharn blows one back. He stays on the
phone until Type falls asleep and then a bit longer, just watching his boyfriend as he wrinkles
his nose and makes little noises in his sleep. Finally he realises just how late it is, and how
much work he’s got to do tomorrow if he wants to try and get back earlier than planned.
“Love you Type,” he says, and turns off the light.
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