Your Fault (TharnType)

2

A/n

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Left,  right,  left,  right and left again.

Like a fish who just came out of water Type flopped continuously.  He just couldn't fall asleep. No position felt right.  He couldnt seem to get comfortable on the new bed of his. He needs to get accustomed and comfortable in order to feel the complete luxury of sleep.

"Shit.  I just wanna sleep!" Type complained as he continued to flop. After a number of continuous failures he decided to sit up in frustration.

Wonder if Tharn is asleep.

Type turned to his right in order to observe but his eyes only met the bottom of two feet while the rest of the attached body couldn't be found.

"Did he fall asleep on the floor again?But he was definitely was on the bed when we both decided to rest. He always gets so much weirder the more I learn about him."

Continuing to watch the only visible part of the other's body.  Type debated.

"Should I help him? Should I not help him? Sigh.  Not like I'm getting sleep anyhow. "

As though on a life and death mission.  Type crept to other side of Tharn's bed,  hesitantly.

Upper body resting flat on the floor while two feet rested against the bed,  sticking out in thin air. A body lightly snored.

Tharn slept with such a stupid grin on his face,  Type felt annoyed.

Glad to know while I'm struggling to sleep on my bed.  This idiot is close to heaven sleeping on the floor.

Forget about moving him.  I'm gonna wake him up and let him go on the bed himself.

Type sulked .

Raising his feet and using his toe.  Type mercilessly poked Tharn in the gut.

"Tharn wake up.  Tharn! If you sleep like that you're back won't be of any good anymore. Tharn-"

The large, veiny hand of Tharn grabbed the violating foot and quickly tugged it down.  Making Type fall right on top of Tharn.

Feet perfectly landing on the sides of Tharn's waist and hands cuffed against his chest. Type could feel his blood boiling.

"You bastard!"

Even Tharn's subconscious is so physical.  As soon as Type fell on him.  He hugged it immediately.

"I should just break these lustful hand of his." 

No matter how much he tried.  Tharn held him with a death grip.

So uncomfortable. Everything is pressing against Tharn. EVERYTHING. And his annoying rhythmic breathing keeps hitting my neck..... So... So... Uncomfortable.

Type just couldn't stop complaining.

"Bastard! "

"Jerk. "

"Asshole. "

And a lot more foul words.

Like a child.  After complaining Type couldn't help but sulk.

In a voice that can be identified as a whine Type whispered into Tharn's ear.

"Tharn. I can't breathe.  Please let me go for a second. "

Tharn immediately let him go.

Rage boiled once again inside Type as he angrily got up.

"Oh. You couldn't hear the curses but a few gentle words and you immediately listen. Always such flirtatious attitude. Well aren't you the perfect gentleman. "
Type spat as he hated the method he had to use in order to gain freedom.

Like cute things like that huh.  No wonder-

Type quickly stops his train of thoughts.

"Just break your fucking back!" Type shouted one last time before he decided to go back to his bed.

"Cute."

"Huh." Type looked back to the other who just uttered those words. He was still asleep. Snoring lightly.

Type felt as if something crawled on his skin.

"This bastard. Even flirts in his dreams.  So annoying."

Tharn hasn't changed. But what was Type's say in this. It seems he hasn't either.

"Just one year Type. One year. "

Convincing himself once again.

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A/n

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Bye bye.