Tharn slipped his arm back around Type's waist. "I suppose not."

-------------------------------------------

Type should have known better than to get separated. There was no way that was going to go well. But he'd needed to pee desperately, so he headed in that direction while Tharn was deep in conversation with the president of an electronics firm, determined to get back to Tharn as quickly as possible.

As always, luck wasn't with Type. As he exited the bathroom, he nearly ran down the asshole from earlier. San, right? San had the fucking nerve to pretend to look surprised but just how stupid did the man think he was? "Excuse me," Type muttered.

To his dismay, San took his arm in just the way Tharn had throughout the evening, except that when San did it, it felt...nasty. When Type tried to move away, San's grip got tighter. Tight enough that it felt like it might leave bruises, but hell if Type was going to give him the satisfaction of wincing in pain, so he let himself be dragged into a side hallway.

"What the hell?" Type growled as San finally let go but blocked his exit back to the main area.

"I just thought we should have a little chat."

"Not interested." Type took a step diagonally, but San blocked him. "Seriously, go away."

"Little boy, you have no idea who you're dealing with, do you?"

Type glared at him. "I don't care. As far as I'm concerned, you're just the hundredth person to try and steal my boyfriend tonight."

"Hundredth?" San chuckled. "Hardly. In fact, I was the first. I was Tharn's first and I'm the only one who's fucked him. You think it's good getting him inside you? It's better the other way."

Face flushed, Type put both hands on the man's chest and shoved, knocking him back a bit. "Shut up!"

"He was so good for me." San was almost purring now and Type wanted to vomit. "Begged so prettily on his knees. I bet you're pretty when you beg too."

Type couldn't help the half step backward and shaky note in his voice. "Go to hell."

San looked him up and down. "Maybe I'll take you instead since it seems you need a bit of discipline. It's always more fun to break the willful ones."

Type couldn't breathe. He shook his head.

There was a blur in his peripheral vision and then a fist colliding with San's cheek, knocking him to the ground.

Backing up against a wall, Type focused on staying upright. And then Tharn was there, hands on his shoulders, looking frantic. "Are you okay?"

He was going to nod. Any moment now he was going to nod and stand upright and sneer at the asshole on the floor as they walked by him.

"Type, look at me." Tharn's voice was gentle and irresistible. "It's okay. He won't get near you again. I promise."

San was rising to his feet behind Tharn and Type was shaking. San huffed. "Don't speak for me."

"I'm not," Tharn said without turning, his voice very serious as he held Type's gaze. "I'm promising you, San, that if you get anywhere near my boy again, I won't just punch you, I'll kill you and make it look like a regrettable accident."

San sneered, but he walked away hurriedly.

Tharn pulled Type into a hug. "Fuck, I was worried when I saw him with you. I'm sorry."

"Don't." Type took a few careful breaths. "I knew he was a creep."

That made Tharn laugh softly. "Yeah. I wish I'd been that perceptive when I was your age. Unfortunately, that's why I know just how dangerous he is."

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