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My Enemy, My Rival, My Love

Chapter Text

"Hey! Kirigun!"

My name is Type.

"Yes dear?"

The entourage parading with Tharn snickered while he turned to smirk back at Type and his friends.

Tharn stood tall and brazenly handsome, with wavy dark hair and sharp eyes. Eyes that looked Type up and down in distaste.

He was holding his book bag slung over his shoulder to emphasize how cool he was. Type scoffed.

"You smug bastard! I know it was you!"

The Asshole and Co. that I'm yelling at are Tharn and his groupies. Tum, and his younger brother Tar.

That guy…

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Tharn said with a smile.

Type glared at him harder.

He is my sworn enemy.

"Don't play innocent, you snake." Type seethed. "Give it the hell back! Right now!"

"Make me."

It seemed everyday was inevitable.

"So you admit it," Type responded. "You stole my uniform!"

"What? You mean," Tharn brought his bag over and yanked something out, "this uniform, Teeny Type?"

The same routine.

"Don't call me that!"

Tharn chuckled. "My mistake, I thought it was misplaced, I was on my way to turn it into lost and found."

"Dude!" Techno, who was one of the two behind Type, urged. "Come on, we have to go!"

Wake up, go to school, fight with Tharn, practice, leave.

"Liar! You stole it clear from my locker!" Type insisted, stomping over to him. "This is exactly the kind of sneaky underhanded trick you'd do," he poked the towering bully in the chest, "cause you're not man enough to take me on directly."

Compared to the rest of this school, Tharn and Type stood two inches too tall. Though neither seemed to notice or care, it only stood to matter that they were the same height, so they could equally stare each other down.

"Don't flatter yourself." Tharn frowned. "Filth like you isn't worth the time."

"Type come on!"

Maybe we got too used to the routine.

Type shook with anger. "If I didn't have to go, you'd be dead, Kirigun." He snatched his uniform back.

"Promises, promises." Tharn smiled.

"We're gonna be so late." The second one with Type, Champ, sighed as he shook his head.

Maybe it was never supposed to be this way and someone upstairs wanted to change the game.

Type ignored him and went back over to his friends, who were already turning, ready to go.


Type turned back around, Tharn was waving him away. "Good luck in your game."

Type growled and turned away for the final time.

Whatever it was, the eternal hand of fate made plans to ruin my world order forever.

Chapter Text

Wake up.


Open to the interior of a bedroom. Type stops the alarm on his phone and sits up.

Number 08, Thiwat, up at bat.



With a yawn and a stretch, he's up and at 'em. His phone clock reads 6:12AM.

Despite his attempts to throw me.

The Lions have the bases loaded, The Tiger's pitcher, San Kiennkul, has been keeping the Lion's at bay two batters in a row.

I stood my ground.

Tharn's smile flashed in his memory. "Good luck in your game."

Type flinched and pushed back the words. He shook himself out of those thoughts. Now was the time to focus.

Type grounded himself and slowly exhaled.

Here's the wind up… and the pitch!

Type gets up out of bed, wandering over to a side door, presumably his bathroom.

Thiwat takes a swing-- beautiful follow through. Kiennkul's curveball takes a hit!

The crack of the bat echoes through the stadium.

It's still going folks. It's going…

Type smiled as he darted for first.

Type's smile now perfectly mirrored that from the game as he remembered yesterday's play. He chuckled through the suds, the steaming water poured down his back as his hands ran through his hair.


Aaaand it's outta here! We got ourselves a ball game folks! Thiwat number 08 wins four points for the Lions with one home run! It's a grand slam!

The Lions players charge home from their plates. The Tiger's relax on the field watching 'em go. Lions fans are going crazy like you wouldn't believe!

Type steps out of the shower and walks up to a mirror still rubbing his damp hair. He drops the towel end over his shoulder and picks up his tooth brush with a smile.

Number 34, Gold Itthipat hits home plate, swiftly followed by teammate Prom Woranart number 15, Jason Kornchid number 06 and finally home runner champion Type Thiwat number 08.

Type steps out of his bathroom and pulls out the top two drawers of his dresser. He shuffles through the clothes looking for the least wrinkled ones of his uniform to dress in.

The Lions are met with the rest of their team in celebration. Oh, what a hit, a beautiful play by team captain Type Phawattakun. Now that's baseball.

By the time he steps out of his room, he's fully dressed for school apart from the shoes in his hand. He grabs his backpack before dashing out the door.





Go to school.

Type stops to lock his front door before tucking in his keys and heading out.

He sucks in a sharp breath as a chill curls down his spine.

Am I forgetting something? He asks himself, paranoid into a bad feeling.

After running through a quick mental checklist of everything he needs, he doesn't recall anything amiss and decides to drop the feeling altogether.


I should have known then that something was wrong. 


Type continued walking his usual route to the university. His apartments were just on the edge of campus and a lot of students who also lived there, were converging with him to school. At least, those that could afford separate housing from the student dorms. Type sent a silent thank you to his parents for that.


But then, there was nothing I could have done.


"Hey, man." Type nodded at a fellow classmate who called his name from the sidewalk.

Another voice from across the way sparked his attention. "Thiwat! Amazing game on Friday!"

Type smiled and waved. "Thanks!"

"Great game Type," came a rather pleasant voice from a rather beautiful girl walking in a group of peers in front of him.

The ones around her murmured in agreement.

Type nodded to her and her friends politely. "Thank you."

"Congratulations, man." Someone from behind him clapped his shoulder.

Type gave an easy chuckle. "Thanks."


To stop what came next.






Fight with Tharn.

Type miserably rifled through his locker. Cursing a second time when he didn't find his Psych book. He knew he forgot something.

Normally, the damned thing would be in his baseball locker, as he had to cross in front of the athletic house to get to the Saenz-Garcia building where his class was.

But today there was gonna be a test, so Type had grabbed it Friday after the game to study with over the weekend and he forgot to bring it back!

Type groaned at his own stupidity. Perfect.

"Woah man," Techno, who walked with him to class, as his own English class was in the same building, started. "You good?"

"My damn textbook." Type grumbled slamming his locker. "There's a test today and I forgot it."

The heads of the soccer boys who were still getting dressed for practice turned at the noise, but quickly looked back away.

"Oh you don't need it anyway." Techno breezed, waving to the soccer guys as they left. Techno just knew everybody. "What is it, psych? Right? Practically a blow off class."

"Ai'No," Type started but, but Techno didn't let him continue.

"Dude shut up, I'll bet you're already making an A, right?" Type shrugged and Techno shoved his shoulder. "So don't sweat it. You're gonna get a good grade regardless. I swear you were unfairly blessed at birth. The looks, the height, the brains, the skill. Seriously, what did your parents do?"

Type shrugged. "Legend has it my mom wanted one child per blessing, but when I was born, clearly possessing it all, she couldn't put the burden of having such a perfect brother to any kind of siblings. That's why I'm an only child."

"I hate you." Techno snickered, and Type joined him.

"Come on, let's get to class." Techno nudged him.

The boys were still chuckling out the athletic building, though for Type it mostly in exasperation as Techno continued to list the ways his life was perfect.

It didn't help that those same soccer players from before were practicing right on the walkway and interrupted both they're mini game and Techno's ramblings to congratulate Type on his grand slam from Friday's game.

Type thanked them nicely before he whacked his best friend's arm and told him to shut up before he'd make him shut up. Techno, greatly exaggerating his pain, had grasped his arm with a howl and flung himself away from Type, accidentally bumping into someone on his way.

There was the unmistakable sound of heavy things and papers tumbling across the pavement.

"Oh!" Techno gasped spinning to face the person. "I'm so sor-" His words stuck in his throat as instantly as he turned.

"No worries, Ai'No."

Came the voice to boil Type's blood. The grin from his nightmares. That shithead Ai'Tharn.

Tharn stooped down to gather his things, and Techno gave a distraught look to Type.

Type glared back, because of course Techno should help this person after bumping into them and knocking their stuff down, but of course helping Tharn Kirigun, Type's number one nemesis, would be best friend treason of the highest order and was unacceptable for any reason.

Don't you dare. Type's eyes threatened.

Techno's face morphed into grief as he looked down at Tharn and back, before he finally threw his soul into Type's hands and began helping.


"Sorry." Techno mumbled with less than half the enthusiasm he had before.

Tharn shrugged. "No harm done." He scooped up some papers before looking up at Type and adding, "I'm sure it was a complete accident and not, say, one of your friends shoving you just a little too hard on purpose right when I happened to walk by."

Type crossed his arms. "If I was gonna push you down for no reason, it won't be using some stupid domino effect or whatever you want to think. It'll be directly to your stupid-- Hey."

Type cut himself off just as Techno was reaching for the next book. He stepped on it, keeping 'No from picking it up, and bent down to grab it himself.

"This is…" Type hands shook, and would have crushed the book if it wasn't so large. "My Psychology textbook! I was just looking--"

Type shot forward, roughly grabbing Tharn's collar and yanking him close, seething through his teeth.

"How the hell did you get this?!" He demanded to know.

Tharn's smirk never wavered. "Ai'Type," he began slowly. "I'm flattered you think me capable of every inconvenience in your life," he wrapped his fingers around Type's wrist and tried to pry hands away, but Type held strong. "But this is my textbook."

"You liar!"

"You think you're the only psychology student in the world?" Tharn finally frowned, but it was in the rhetorical variety. "It couldn't possibly be a coincidence that we have the same class at different times?"

Type's confidence was fading fast. "You- it's too much of a coincidence." He reasoned. "There's no such thing with you."

Tharn chuckled and opened his mouth to say something else, but he'd glanced behind Type in one split second and two shouts called out in the next.

"Watch out!"

"Look out!"

Type didn't even have time to turn and see whatever Tharn was yelling at him for before he was pulled forward towards that man.

But Tharn was too late.

In the third split second, something big and hard connected with the side of Type's skull in a resounding smack!


He recalled pain, enormous pain.

Then nothing at all.







Where- uhhhnnn… where am I?


It's so...warm. Ya, ya wait. Why...can't--

"Shh, just relax okay?"

Why can't I move?

"That's it, just relax."

Why can't I speak? So, so warm. Hmmmm.


"Shh, darling take it easy, I've got you."

Is a bath?!

The warmth spread over his shoulders, softly cascading down his body. The trickling sound of movement and the way his body was positioned was unmistakable. He was in the bath.

The water came up to his biceps, and was just the right temperature, it was lulling him to settle, even as he fought to move around, easing the aches in his muscles.


Why was his whole body sore in the first place? He only recalled being hit in the head. Damn soccer assholes.

Type tried to open his eyes...but he couldn't. 

It was frustrating. He needed to move, he needed questions answered. Where was he? Who was speaking? What happened after he passed out that he couldn't remember getting here?

But he was so tired, and so, so sore. The mesmerizing perfume wafting through the air and the warmth surrounding him was too beautiful, too compelling to resist. And he was way too physically weak to do anything at all.

Ya! Why was he so exhausted anyway?

He tried to stir again. He couldn't even open his eyes.

"It's okay, I've got you. Don't overexert yourself."

The voice sounded close. Way too close. And sickeningly familiar.

"Hmm-mm…" Ugh he was useless in this state. He felt paralyzed. Only able to think.

A strong hand guided his face into the crook of an unknown shoulder.



Type was finally able to open his eyes.

All he saw above water was the expanse of wet skin. His own body leaning against a thick neck, a strong chest, with arms that rested under his.

There were specs of red floating in front of the two of them in the water and Type suddenly knew where the sweet perfume was coming from.

To make matters worse, over the rim of the white porcelain tub were exposed candles. At least ten of them were lit, resting on the window sill next to them.


In the window's fogged reflection, the unbelievable sight stopped Types heart in his chest. This person sitting behind his own reflection, the face that gentle voice belonged to was-- was his mortal enemy Tharn Kirigun!


What the hell is this?! What am I doing in a bath with HIM??


Type tried to move with all his might, his spirit renewed, he had to get out of here as far away from this villain as he could possibly get BUT DAMN IT HE COULDN'T MOVE A MUSCLE.

The resulting whine that escaped him from his efforts warranted a chuckle from the other.

Type felt it rumble at his back.

"My apologies," Tharn said happily, "I was a bit rough today, I know."

Then Type completely froze as he felt Tharns lips press into his damp hair!

"I promise to be gentle from now on, babe."






Type tried to escape again, with the same results.

"Here," Tharns hands moved again, pouring the warm water over Types shoulders and chest, he took the time to massage where the water flowed. "Let me help you."

Type really didn't want to, even if Tharn's hands felt so good against his sore body, he just really, really had no control of himself, and so he sighed and sank further into his captor.

"Cute." Tharn hummed. "Feels good, baby?"


What the hell did you just call me, you good for nothing scoundrel?!


Tharns hands moved lower to his legs, just gently rubbing and teasing.


Type's whole body twitched as Tharn moved his hips.


What the hell was that?!


A jolt of pain rippled through his body emanating from three key points on his person.

His hips-- his lower back-- and his- his!! He couldn't even think it.

Type pinched closed his eyes again and forced himself not to make a sound. He could now guess what must've happened between them to have him in such a state.

Why he felt so sore all over, what Tharn meant by, ugh, being too rough. 


No, no!! No way, no way, no way!


He and Tharn can't have-- They- They were enemies! The worst of enemies! They hated each other! There's no way he would have- or Tharn would have-- Type suddenly felt sick.

"Ah my beautiful baby." Tharn sighed in his ear, Type tried to fight a shiver. "You're so," Tharn bit his shoulder, "so sexy. Let's go one more time tonight huh? It's a special day after all. Please indulge me."

Types brain was launched into overdrive.


WHAT?! That horny pervert already rendered this body useless and he wants to go AGAIN?! No way!! Never in a thousand million years! I'll die before I let your filthy hands on me!


"Not now of course," Tharn conceded, he turned Type's chin to face him, "but sometime later huh?"

Types plan looking at Tharns stupid face for the first time in all of this was to glare at the stupid man as hard as he could. To set him on fire with his own eyes. But, but that smile.

It couldn't be a prank. No one's ever smiled at Type like that before. Like he meant everything. Plus Tharn was a diabolical fuck but he would never go this far just to mess with Type. He was being sincere.


What is this? My chest hurts- my heart-- ya, ya stop it! Don't be ridiculous. Tharn's just-


All thoughts were banished from Types panicked brain as Tharn sealed his lips to Types in a kiss.

Tharn sank low and held Type's head to his, keeping their lips connected as he sighed in relief.

"So soft." Tharn praised, kissing him again. "Love your kisses darling." His crooked smile was something brazen and open, and Type's chest hurt more.


He kissed me! He kissed me!


Tharn leaned in once more to peck Type's cheek before he sat up again.

It was twenty minutes more of just soaking, listening to Tharn's ridiculous ramblings, kisses, and massages before Type was finally progressing to soft speech.

"T-tharn…" Type gasped, "You- you…"

"What is it baby?"

Type flushed with anger and embarrassment. Whatever was going on, wherever he was, he was sure of two things.

One, this was not his world. This stranger was not his Tharn. No. Type was sure had awoken in a parallel universe, a world like his own in many ways, and two, a major difference between his world and this was that he and Tharn (his arch-enemy) were together. Romantically.

Type lethargically shook his head, "We can't. Again."

He meant to yell. He meant to shout as loud as he could that there was a snowballs chance in hell that they were ever gonna have sex.

He wasn't this Tharn's 'baby' or whatever the fuck and he wasn't about to engage in any sort of nonsense while he was here. He needed first and foremost, to find his way back.

But he couldn't say any of that yet.

And so Tharn, misunderstanding him, only hummed and pressed their foreheads together.

"I'll be gentle my Type, I swear." He whispered sincerely.



Chapter Text

Those first few days were basically me getting used to this world's routine. Everyday I woke up expecting to be back where I belonged, yet the days kept coming and I stayed. In my own life it was, wake up, go to school, fight with Tharn, practice, go home.

Here it was wake up, go to school, get groped by Tharn, practice, go on a date with Tharn, go home.


"Damn babe,"

And here he was right one cue. My constant shadow. The bane of my existence.

Type tried not to yelp pathetically when Tharn grabbed him suddenly. Seriously could this pervert give it a rest? Type hadn't even made it in the building yet.

"Your ass is amazing." Tharn hummed.

It wasn't just a pinch either, the guy literally had a handful of Types ass. And he was squeezing hard.

Type tsked as he composed himself before roughly shoving Tharn off of him. "Have you no shame, you idiot! We're in public!"

Tharn merely gave an easy shrug and a stupid grin. "Nothing they haven't seen before." He fell into step beside Type moving to grab his hand instead.

"I hate you." Types cheeks burned.

Had the me in this life really been tamed by this guy? How could I allow this to happen? A me in any life just couldn't stand for this! I'm still a man, aren't I?

Type tried to disconnect their hands, he fought the grip as hard as he could without making a scene and drawing attention to them, but Tharn wouldn't let him.

Damn this idiot and damn his strength! And damn this world's me for letting this jerk have his way with us!

The rest of the coming days were spent much the same. Everyday Type would hit his alarm and he'd pray that he was back in his own life. Then he'd look at his bedside table and see the same framed photo of the other Type and Tharn resting there. Out of place.

It was a clear selfie taken by Type who was smiling too happily for this Type's comfort. Tharn was leaning in from behind Type, beaming over his shoulder at the camera. His arms were secure around Type's waist.

Type would curse and try not to look at the rest of the mirage of photos that were hung on the wall behind his work desk. Seriously had this Type not heard of a phone? Who printed out pictures and framed them? Was he really such a sap? The thought disgusted him, and it was only made worse knowing that Tharn was the reason behind it.

The second Type would step foot on school property, Tharn would pounce. Seriously, that guy had scary perfect timing. Today it was with a kiss on the cheek.

"Hey babe."

Type recoiled with a glare, but knew better at this point than to comment on it. Protest of any sort was absolutely pointless. This Tharn was as thick-headed as they came. As thick headed as his own Tharn, but in the opposite way.

Tharn grabbed his hand and they walked to school together.

He'd scrape through the school day only bothering to do his work so as to not screw his parallel self into a bad grade. He might be at odds with this world's Type on principle, but he'd hope that the other Type (who must be living his normal life now) would have the courtesy to do the same for him.

And he'd take to the field, practicing for Friday's game. Type philosophy here was just as it was for his school work, he didn't think he was gonna still be here on Friday anyway, but he also didn't want his body all out of shape when he finally got back and he hoped the other Type was doing the same.

Plus, practicing here was his main reprieve from Tharn.

The only time at school where they weren't attached at the hip.

Type sailed another good throw right into Techno's glove, it was caught with a loud snap.

Techno whistled as he tossed the ball leisurely into the air. "I swear man, you've been more focused this week than anything," he sent it back to Type easily. Type caught it and ignored Techno's comment, kicking up the red dirt around him with his cleats.

Type sailed another hard hitter in the next second and Techno laughed. "Seriously you're about to put Champ out of a position."

Type scoffed. As if. Champ was one of the most talented pitchers Type's ever seen. "Shut up."

"What's gotten into you lately?"

Type's smirk instantly turned to a dark grimace.

He couldn't exactly say that it was because the harder he worked the less he thought of Tharn and his stupid handsome face overcrowding him literally everywhere he went, but he could certainly think it.

"Just prep work man," Type finally answered back. "It's not my fault you're a natural slacker. Maybe you should take notes."

Techno's face soured as he caught Type's next throw.




"Hey cutie," Tharn hummed as he and Type reconnected after practice, he buried his nose in Type's hair, still damp from his quick shower.

"Ugh." Type shoved him back.

Tharn was undeterred and only chuckled. "Where to today?"

"I literally don't care." Type fumed as he crossed his arms.

Tharn pouted beside him. "But you say that everyday."

"If you make me choose, I'm going home." Type grumped.

"Fine, fine." Tharn sighed. He swooped in to unravel Type's arms and take his hand. "Well, you didn't eat much lunch today, and you just had practice so you gotta be starving by now."

Type internally agreed with Tharn, he was starving, but he hated that the man knew him so well, so he said nothing.

This would be the time of day where Tharn would take him on a date. And yes, no matter what Type said or did, it happened every single day. The evident perks of being rich and happy.

Oh and just to rub it in his face how serious his relationship with Tharn is, Type had figured out that they knew each other's parents already.

Seriously. And Tharn's parents loved him. They were the brightest, warmest, most welcoming family, yes, Tharn's siblings too. They said just two days ago, (when Tharn had taken him to his house for a family dinner), that he was always welcome in their home.

And the worst, worst bit were Type's own parents. They were last nights dinner. Now, Type had expected his mom to love Tharn, she only wanted her son happy, and like anyone, she fell victim to his handsome good looks. 

But did she have to take it so far? She had even been calling Tharn her second son (not son-in-law, her straight up son), from the moment they showed up. And his dad too! The audacity! Shouldn't he be on Type's side here? I mean...Tharn was a man.

More than that, he'd...totally tamed Type. And Type winced to remember the day he woke in this stupid place. That jerk swore he'd be gentle. Guess once a liar, always a liar.

"...over on seventh?"

Type shook himself of his unpleasant thoughts and tuned back into Tharn's food suggestions.

The place on the corner of the seventh street intersection, he knew it well.

In his own world, he and Techno ate there sometimes. It was laid back and quiet, plus they served free desserts for students.

Type was surprised that Tharn knew of it. It was a little out of the way.

"Yeah." Type agreed reluctantly. "Sounds good."

I could only hope this ruse wouldn't last much longer.


Chapter Text

He was growing complacent. He could feel it. It's been five days and he still wasn't back. And towards Tharn, he was being worn down. It made his brow twitch in annoyance, but damn it even though he knew it was happening, he couldn't do a thing about it. 

This world's Tharn seemed to genuinely care about him. It was relentless, it was unstoppable, it was unbearable. And it was prying Type apart.

Type tried to shake it off as he swung from the sidelines. He had to focus on his warm up because it was Friday, and it was his game, and he was next at bat. He's been here five days already.

But damn it all if he couldn't stop looking at the bleachers where Tharn was sitting. The man had a goddamn blue 08 on one cheek and a white heart on the other, and he was wearing a mock baseball jersey with Type's name and number on the back. The university didn't sell players jerseys. Tharn's was custom made.

Stupid rich boyfriend.

No, no, no, no, no! He's not my boyfriend. He's the other Type's boyfriend. Not mine!!

Type swung harder before eyeing the pitcher on the other team. The Pirate's, they were called. Type's own Lion's had a man on first, a funny guy Type's age named Ai'Ming, and the student currently batting, Ai'Dean, had a ball and an out. It was the top of the fifth and Lion's were leading 3 to 1.

Slow game.

A foul and two strikes later, Type was walking up to the plate. A piercing whistle broke from the crowd and it suspiciously sounded like it was coming from the section of bleachers that Tharn was sitting in.

Type ignored it.

He used his bat to knock some of the dirt that bunched between the teeth of his cleats, before he set his stance and swung the bat over his shoulder. He dead eyed the Pirate pitcher with laser focus.

The guy was good, good enough to strike out Ai'Dean, Type couldn't let anything distract him. Anything like how he even got here in the first place, why he was still stuck here. Or… how he's ever gonna get back.

If he was ever gonna--

"Ball One!"

Type snapped up. He hadn't moved but the first pitch was thrown.

Damn it!

By some miracle, or Type's own luck, it had been a bad pitch and a simple ball against him. He still had three strikes to go.

Come on, Thiwat. He chastised himself as he reset his stance. Get your head on straight.

He took a deep breath as he zeroed in on the pitcher.

"Come on Type!" He heard Techno clapping from the stands.

It roused a few others to do the same, including his teammates. Scattered applause for him peppered the crowd. Type smiled as he exhaled slowly.


Shit. The guys curve was no joke.

"It's alright, Type," Tum from the dugout encouraged. "Shake it off, you got him!"

The sentiment startled him, especially coming from one of Tharn's eternal lackeys. He supposed it made sense. He and Tum had always been teammates, plus he was Tharn's oldest friend. Of course he would be supportive of their relationship, duh. 

But, this was support for Type completely separate from Tharn. And it was coming from the guy who once tripped him on the quad and walked away laughing. Type couldn't help but look over.

The man's face was rearing, but not against Type, for him. Tum's smile morphed into a look of confusion then exasperation as he wildly gestured for Type to focus on the play. Type could only wonder what his own face had looked like before he turned back.


This time, Type's swing connected with the ball, the cheers of the crowd mirrored his spirits as they spiked and then immediately died. It was a low pitch which Type's swing merely turned into a ground ball, he was lucky it fouled before the third baseman could turn it into a full out.

Type was the last out. He had to stay in this if they were gonna score.

"Strike two!"

Type sighed. He readjusted his grip and kicked up the dirt around the plate. Focus, focus, focus--


Type took a considerable step back as he dodged the next curve. The crowd gasped as the fast ball was caught. That ball would have smacked Type in the face if he hadn't have ducked out in time.

"Hey!" Techno screamed from the bleachers. "What the hell was that?!"

"Call it ump!"

"Get him out of here!"

Came some shouts from his dugout.

"Hey!" Tum was followed sparingly by their teammates as he walked from the pit. He stopped right at the path connecting third to home and pointed an accusing finger at the Pirate's pitcher, who glared back. "Back the hell off, asshole, or I'll make you."

Type's jaw dropped.

"Hey," There was a tap on Type's right shoulder, it was the umpire. "Tell your man to calm down or he's getting tossed."

"U-um," Type was still bewildered that Tum was even upset over this. Much less standing up for him. "Right. Yeah."

The ump was already shouting a warning to the Pirate pitcher.

"Tum, give it a rest." Type called over. He shook his head. "Don't get kicked out for this."

"He's a piece of shit, Type." Tum announced. "Stay in the back of the box, watch his curve." Type nodded, that was his overall plan, but damn, advice from Tum? He sure wasn't complaining. Then Tum sneered. "Own him."

"Alright, alright everyone settle down." The ump reigned. Type took a few slow breaths as readied himself. "Let's play ball!"

He picked up his bat and prepped for the next throw.

"Alright, keep it clean, pitcher!" The ump reminded.

The Pirate pitcher didn't look happy about it, but he nodded.

Type swallowed. This guy was willing to do anything to win, huh? Okay. Best way to get back at a guy like him was to beat him. He'd have to smack this one out of the park.

"Go Type!"

"He ain't shit, Type!"

Well if he wasn't shit and he had Type on the ropes then what did that make Type?

Type exhaled again, watching the windup… taking the swing!

"Strike three!"


Types shoulders dropped, he looked at the catcher who was sailing Type's last strike back to the pitcher. The Pirate on his mound was smirking mirthfully back at Type.

That was it. Type was their last out before the innings changed.

He looked on for one second more as the players began to walk off the field. He waited for his fellow Lion, Ai'Ming, to join him with a supportive shrug and an arm around his shoulder and they walked to the dugout together.

Champ and the other fieldmen passed him with soft words of encouragement.

"Shake it off, okay?"

"You'll get 'em next time, Type."

Tum specifically slapped his back. "Good try, Thiwat."

Type nodded at them with a weak smile, taking care to acknowledge Tum, his apparent friend, before ducking in.

The walk to the end of the dugout bench cleared his mixed feelings about Tum being a good teammate, and he was just left with the dissatisfaction of his last strike out.

"Shit," he sighed as he towelled down and pulled out his Gatorade.

"Got anything on you?" Ming leaned over. "I'm out."

Type nodded. "Yeah, got a few extra." He dug through his gear bag. "Here," he handed Ming two packs of mini oreos.

Ming considerably brightened up. "Sweet! Thanks man."

Type gave a tired nod before he pressed his sweat rag over his face and leaned back.

Shit! What the hell was wrong with him? He'd let more than just that stupid pitcher get into his head out there. His only reprieve was the fact that they were still winning.

"Hey, Tharn."

Type's ears perked.

Ugh, perfect. What the hell was he doing here?

"...yeah, he's in the back."

They're letting him through? No non-players in the dugout!

Type heard footsteps approaching him and his heart hammered in his chest. The footsteps stopped and out came a familiar sigh.

"Go away." Type might've sounded intimidating, if he wasn't muffled.

"No," Tharn gently pulled Type's hands away from his face, peeling off the rag with his other hand. "I don't think so. Not when you need me."

Type instantly made a face. "Who needs you?" He pulled his hand from Tharn's grasp. "We're fine. We're still up by two."

"You can't fool me, Type." Tharn sat himself next to Type. "Don't let him get to you."

Type scoffed. "As if." He glared off to the side after shaking his head at the thought.

Tharn turned Type's chin to face him and Type shoved his hands back, but he didn't look away.

"You've been distracted this whole game." Tharn was too intuitive for Type's good. "What's eating at you?"

Oh, Type thought sarcastically, nothing really. Only the fact that I'm at this game in the first place.

Nothing like having his early morning hopes dashed everyday by pictures in the other Type's frames, on the other Type's walls.

"Nothing." He mumbled. When Tharn fixed him with a stern look, Type squirmed. "I'll-- Tell you later."

What were a few empty promises in the grand scheme of things anyway?

Tharn scrutinized him in silent calculation. "I won't forget."

"Don't." Type challenged. Damn it, what was he saying? Tharn should forget. Ugh. Type couldn't help it if the guy just naturally brought out his competitive spirit. Every word, every look, every touch brought a need within Type to fight back.

The comment made Tharn crack a smile. "Okay." He leaned in to kiss Type's temple.

Type tsked and merely turned away. "You look stupid by the way." Tharn intertwined their fingers. "Like my own personal cheerleader."

Tharn chuckled. "Thank you. I like it."

"You would."

"Of course I'm your personal cheerleader, Type," Tharn hummed, resting his head against Type's, "that's what a boyfriend is for."

"Funny, this whole time I thought you were only good for free food." Type snarked.

"Don't forget the free sex."

And Type almost choked.

"Ya!" He whacked Tharn's arm with a sharp hiss. "Shut up! You want the whole damn stadium to hear you?"

"Hmm," Tharn thought about it seriously, with a smile, "I wouldn't mind it."

"Ugh." Type scoffed. "Shameless pervert."

Tharn nuzzled Type's cheek with his nose. "And you love me."

Type's breath caught and his heart fluttered. 

He supposed he did. Well, this world's Type anyway. It was a weird and foriegn thought. To know that a he, in any reality, Tharn. And be loved by Tharn.

It made him feel a little guilty, which was annoying, because he knew it was irrational. He couldn't control how he felt or how Tharn did. And he certainly wasn't the reason for getting this Tharn stuck with him anyway.

Type coughed into his fist and took a swig of his drink.

"Hey," Tharn nudged him. Type slowly looked back at him. "You're my number one."

And Type's chest hurt.




"Type! Great game on Friday." Type nodded to the passerby who called his name from the sidewalk.

Tharn, who was walking beside him holding his hand, was beaming with pride.

Another voice from across the way sparked their attention. "Thiwat! Heard you guys killed! Congrats!"

Type smiled and waved. "Thanks!"

"Great game Type," came another voice of encouragement, it was a player from the soccer team, N'Ae was his name. "Give the team our congratulations."

The ones around him murmured in agreement.

Type nodded to N'Ae and the rest politely. "Thank you."

"Congratulations, man." Someone from behind them called.

Type gave an easy chuckle. "Thanks."

"You're so popular, babe." Tharn pointed out.

Type shrugged. "Nah, it's just the perks of being on a good team."

"Hey, you know it's been a while since you've come back to my place." Tharn pointed out stopping their walk across the pavillion. "We should stay in tonight," his eyes were full of wicked promise, "you know, and celebrate."

Tharn leaned into kiss Type, but he dodged the advance. "Are you crazy?" He looked around. "Everyone can see us!"

"Type." Tharn's smile melted off in a second. When Type didn't move, he raised a brow and went in again. But was pushed back. 

"Stop that! I mean it, Tharn."

Tharn merely harrumphed and tried again. But he was dismayed again.


"Okay, what is your problem, Type?" Tharn finally fully backed off. And for the first time since Type got here, he looked upset. "I told you I wouldn't forget, and I didn't mention it after the game because I didn't want to ruin your win, but it's been long enough and you promised you'd tell me, so spill."

Type closed his mouth and glared at Tharn.

Tharn sighed. "You've been acting so...weird lately." He explained. "You're pushing me off of you or away from you twice as usual. You're more snappy, and irritated with me, and we haven't had sex since our anniversary." Type rushed forward to shush him as he looked nervously around. "Thiwat, tell me what's wrong." Tharn finished sternly.

Type looked back at Tharn and could see that he wasn't just gonna let this go. He sighed and dropped his arms in defeat.

What harm would it do now? It's not like he has a lot of options here.

"I'm not the one that's been acting weird." Type confessed. "You are. This whole place has."

"What?" This only confused Tharn, and his anger wasn't gone.

"Listen I'm only gonna go through this once, so pay attention." Type stood straight and squared up. "I'm not the Type that you know."

Chapter Text

"" Tharn sat forward as he tried to get this straight. "Hit your head?"

They were sitting on one of the schools public benches off to the side. Tharn wasn't looking at the Type beside him, only straight ahead as he tried to wrap his mind around what he had just been told.

Type held tight fists over his knees. Too tense awaiting Tharn's reaction to move.

"Yes." He finally affirmed.

"...and when you woke up, we were having sex on our anniversary." Tharn finished.

Type ducked his head with a blush. "Yes, but you didn't have to repeat that part." He grumbled.

"And in your world," Tharn ignored him. "We aren't dating but are against each other as rivals?"

"Yes." Type finally sighed. "There's no way the you I know and I would ever become lovers."

"Now, now." Tharn did the unexpected. He frowned in serious thought before finally shaking his head. "That may not be."

"Huh?" Type wrinkled his expression. 

Tharn tilted his head. "Even in a parallel world," then he smiled over at Type with a nod. "Yes. I'm sure I would still be in love with you."

"What?!" Type leaned back. "W-why would you say that?"

"Because," Tharn affirmed. "You are exactly like the Type I know. Especially before we were dating. You have the same 'tough guy' attitude."

"What?!" Then he thought about it. "Hey!"

"Now that I think of it," Tharn put his hand to his chin, "the fact that you and I are still rivals in your world might be the problem."

"Huh? Still rivals?" Type repeated. "What do you mean?"

"I'm saying that you and the me that you know, aren't much different from me and the Type that I know." Tharn explained. "We started as rivals too you know, before we were ever lovers."

"Really?!" Type questioned. "You mean I wasn't always in love with you? Even though--"

"Hmm?" Tharn quirked his brow. "Even though?"

"My pictures." Type said. "There are framed pictures of us all over my room. It just sort of...looked like we have always been happy together."

"What?" Tharn looked like the air had been knocked out of him. "Y-you have framed…" he looked away with a light dusting of pink on his cheeks, "interesting."

Oh no! Type panicked. I may have betrayed a secret of myself on accident.

Wait a minute.

"What do you mean about a problem?" Type suddenly asked. "You said us being rivals might be the problem?"

Tharn shrugged. "Sure. About why you're here in the first place." He said simply. "Listen as far as I can tell from what you've told me, the only difference between your world and mine is the fact that me and Type are together but you and Tharn are not."


"So," and Tharn got way too excited before saying, "this proves that you and me are meant to be! Soulmates! The universe clearly wants to right this wrong. You and your Tharn belong together and you were sent here to fix that."

"What?" Type practically screeched. "That makes no sense whatsoever!"

"Well," Tharn stood up with his confidence restored, "that settles it, then." He looked right at Type, eyes of pure determination piercing through his soul. "I will make you fall in love with me again, for the Tharn in your world's sake."


Tharn chuckled and dropped a kiss to a stunned Type's cheek. "You heard me."

Type held his cheek and backed further onto the bench. "B-but you- you…"

"Now I promise I won't try anything sleezy or underhanded until you're ready," Tharn straightened out again. "So, shall we get to class, honey?"

He held his hand out for Type to take.

Type collected his feelings and seized up glaring at Tharn. He accepted Tharn's gesture and his challenge, standing to look Tharn in the eye. "Let's."




Oy this jerk.

Type rolled his eyes when the first thing that next morning he silenced the perpetual knocking on his door, by opening it to Tharn with a dozen roses in hand.

"You shouldn't have." Type sighed accepting the bouquet.

Tharn was pleased. "Come on, I'm taking you somewhere special today."

Type nodded, waving him away. "Give me a second, now I gotta find somewhere to put these."

Tharn stepped in. "Take your time."

Type closed the door and ignored the man inside. "Don't go in my room."

Before long, the two of them were off on their date.

"Somewhere special?" Type echoed when they arrived. Tharn smiled as he opened the door, saying nothing. "Since when did The Kitchen Counter qualify as special? You took me here just a few days ago."

Tharn nodded. "I know."

He led Type to a table by the window, it overlooked the street outside and even further, the beginning of the bay.

Type picked up his menu while Tharn reached over and took his hand. "This is where you took me on our first date ever."

Type's eyes widened. So that's how Tharn knew of this place. He had shown him. Type looked out the window staring at the intersecting traffic outside, his eyes zeroing on the green traffic sign that read 7th Street.

"So," Tharn picked up his own menu with a knowing smile. "Do you want to split something?"




It was the first of many, and yet, nothing really changed.

Tharn acted exactly as he had been since Type woke up in this world. He regularly called Type gross nicknames, he always complimented his body and his looks, usually emphasizing those areas with his hands, and he stayed constantly attached to Type's side.

But more than that, now that Tharn wasn't constantly trying to eat Type, and since the truth had been revealed, Type found he could finally relax around him.

And aside from being the universe's apparent perfect boyfriend, Tharn was just a cool guy. Just sitting and talking with Tharn was so easy it made Type question their rivalry in the first place. Did they really hate each other in his own life? Why?

Nothing made sense anymore. Certainly not Tharn, and Type didn't even know where to begin with himself.

It all came to a head the morning Type opened his eyes, looked over at the framed picture of him and Tharn, and smiled.

He'd woken up to yet another day in the wrong life, and he didn't mind.




Type found an easy smile on his lips when he saw Tharn walk up to him that day. "Morning."

He took the initiative to grab Tharn's hand instead of the other way around, before they commenced their morning walk to Tharn's History class.

Tharn kissed the back of Type's hand. "Hey sexy thing." He purred. "You're in a good mood today."

Type shrugged, genuinely not minding the nickname or the kiss. "Good night's sleep, I guess."

"Well I have a test for this lesson." Tharn informed. "I'll be getting out considerably early so maybe we could do something with our extra time?"

"Sure," Type thought for a moment. "Let's go to The Park, we haven't had time to just chill in a while."

Tharn nodded. "Yes sir."

"Did you study?" Type asked. "You said you have a test after all."

Tharn scoffed. "You know me babe."

"Idiot," Type shook his head, "you better not have stayed up too late."

Tharn banished the thought with a hand to his heart. "Because I didn't want to worry you, I went to bed right on time."

"Good." Type was undeterred by Tharn's cheesy words.

"Oh! Let me finish telling you about the Techno thing from yesterday." Tharn remembered eagerly.

"Oh yes." Type was already snickering.

One of the very, very few perks of having been in a year-long relationship with someone and not remembering a second of it were all the stories about the happiest memories that Type was living for the first time as Tharn told them.

Especially the ones that involved their friends.

"So you and Tum had just finished a game and Techno and I hadn't eaten since lunch so we were all pretty hungry." Tharn reminded. "But that didn't mean we were prepared for Techno to order a thirty piece nugget meal for himself."

Type laughed in shock. "What?"

"Yes!" Tharn assured. "Thirty piece."

"Don't tell me he ate the whole thing!" Type shook his head.

"He said he was gonna make his ancestors proud." Tharn sighed.

"Geez I didn't even know that was possible to order, that must have cost a fortune." Type laughed.

"It was something like twenty dollars."

"For nuggets? Were they made of gold?"

"Type, babe wait, this isn't even the best part."

"Oh God. I shudder to ask."

"So our server had just given us the last order, which I think was Tum's," Tharn guessed, "and asked if we needed anything else right?"


"Well you always ask for--"

"Extra ketchup, extra napkins." Type nodded.

"Exactly." Tharn smiled. "Anyway, she left us to get your stuff and she must've had a different table to serve or something cause instead of coming back right away, she took like ten or fifteen minutes." He explained. "Which was still reasonable, not a big deal."

"Sure, okay."

Tharn suddenly broke out into a big smile. "Anyway, well when she got back, she had already started saying something like 'Here you are' or 'Here you go' to you trying to hand you your stuff, but when she returned to the table all she could say was 'Here you-- what the heck?!'," Tharn paused to snort, "and we all looked over at Techno and broke out cackling cause his face was stuffed and every nugget was gone!"

Type burst out laughing. "No way!"

"I swear! Not a crumb was left." Tharn joined him. "Our server couldn't believe it, she completely dropped her facade for a split second, and I couldn't even breathe."

Type felt for that poor girl. What a sight.

"Techno couldn't do or say anything cause his mouth was still full, and we were just dying. It had been like ten minutes tops and his plate was cleared."

"Thirty nuggets." Type couldn't believe it. "What a fucking idiot."

Tharn nodded. "Yeah, he paid for eating that fast later."

"His own fault." Type shrugged.

Tharn sighed happily at the memory. "Alright my Type," he pulled them to the side as they approached his classroom door. "I'll text you when I'm out."

Type nudged him. "You've said it."

"I promise."

Tharn turned to go in but Type's hand on his arm stopped him.

"Tharn, um," Type swallowed thickly, before he plucked up his courage and leaned into kiss Tharn on the cheek. "Good luck on your test."

Tharn stared open face at Type saying nothing.

"Ya! Quit looking at me like an idiot, go." Type flushed red as he urged Tharn away.

"W-Wait, no-- Type!"

"Text me!"

And Type darted out of there as fast as he could without running, not looking back.

He tried not to whine pathetically as he broke out the building doors. His stomach was in knots and his chest hurt. But he was happy.




"You wanna know what?"

Tharn and Type were lounging together under the shade of a large oak tree.

The Park, as it was popularly known, was an open green area located in the center of campus. There was a mini orchard, no more than ten small trees bordering the north end, berry bushes in the east that the students were free to pick from once they were in season, and just about a hundred and one different species of flower growing all over the grounds.

"How we got together," Type repeated as he looked up at Tharn from where he laid in his lap. "And how you fell in love with me."

"Wow." Tharn exhales with a sort of exasperated smile. "Uh, well the easier answer, I guess, would be how I fell in love with you." He grew a far off look, absent-mindedly running his fingers through Type's dark hair. "At first, when we were at odds, I just used to like getting a rise out of you. Your flustered face and reactions were cute and my antics kept your attention on me, which I came to realize I liked more than I should. My feelings only grew stronger the more I tried to ignore or deny them, and one day I just decided to stop fighting it, and I admitted I loved you."

Types eyes widened. "That couldn't have gone over well with me."


Type took a moment to sit up. "Saying your feelings." He clarified.

"Oh," Tharn shook his head, "I never told you. I meant that I admitted it to myself."

"Oh." Type was quiet. "Then how did we get together?"

"That's a secret."

Type was dissatisfied. "What? You're not gonna tell me?"

Tharn chuckled. "Honestly, I don't think you would believe me even if I did. That's just gonna have to be something you discover for yourself."

Type tsked. "Cheater."

Tharn shrugged.

They sat quietly for a time before Tharn turned to the one beside him.

"Type, you've been here over three weeks now." Tharn stated.

Type sighed, nodding his head. "I know. Sometimes I feel like I'm never leaving this place."

"And," Tharn spoke softly, "what if you never did? What would you do if this was your life? If I--"

"Tharn, you deserve your Type." Type said seriously, looking down at his hands feeling more guilty than ever. "You deserve someone who loves you back."

Tharn lifted his chin, looking him eye to eye. "You don't think you could ever be that for me? We fell in love once. You can do it again."

"But," Type rubbed his hurting chest, "I'm not him."

"You are," Tharn gave a small smile, it was painful to look at. "You're just a little behind the curve."

"And you think you can wait for me all over again?" Type questioned. "With no guarantees?"

No guarantees?

"Oh," Tharn leaned in, "I don't think I'll be waiting so long."

Do I really believe that?

"Tharn." Type put his hands on Tharn's chest.

"I think you forget how much I know you Type." Tharn huffed. "Now I promised I wouldn't try anything, and I won't, just let me kiss you."

Am I not irreversible already?

"Let me kiss you, then you can tell me if you're not mine all over again."

Whatever Tharn did, I can't go back to the person I was before.

"W-wait, Tharn."

Do I love him?


Type pushed Tharn back with a blush covering his cheeks. Tharn was looking back at him patiently.

"You can...kiss me tomorrow." Type said lowly. "I'll- I'll be ready then."

Tharn huffed softly. "So cute." He whispered, tucking Type's hair back gently. "Okay, my Type." He kissed Type's temple. "Tomorrow."

I guess I already know the answer to that.




That following morning, butterflies swooped in Type's stomach the moment he opened his eyes.

Guess I'm really gonna kiss him today.

Type tried not to think about what that meant for them as he counted the tiles on his ceiling. It was a poor distraction. And as much as he was trying to drown the thoughts from his mind, they kept surfacing. One question, and one thought in particular.

I love him, don't I?

And then he was smiling to himself.


The quiet of his revelation was unexpectedly interrupted in that next moment.

"Type? Oh thank goodness." The voice was that of his best friend.

Type looked beyond startled seeing Techno walk through the door. Hold on, hold on. That wasn't his bedroom door? Wait a moment, since when did his ceiling have tiles?

"You're finally awake." Techno continued, walking right up to him. "I thought we were gonna have to take you to the hospital."

Champ came in next. "He's up?"

Techno gave him a big grin. "Just came to."

"Thank goodness, man. Seriously." Champ sighed. 

"What?" Type finally struggled to sit up. He looked at the faces of his friends and his stomach dropped. He feared the absolute worst.

"The nurse says you're gonna have a bruise on that side of your head for about a week or so, so just take it easy." Champ said.

"What, no. What the hell are you--?" Wait.

He looked to his bedside for the framed photo of him and Tharn.

It was gone.

The walls were empty too.

This wasn't even his room.

No, no, no!

With the health posters on the walls, the curtain partitions surrounding them, and the huge windows streaming light into the room beside him, he knew he must be in some sort of health clinic.

"You don't remember?" Techno suddenly looked worried. "We might need to get the nurse again."

"What day is it?" Type asked desperately.

"Day?" Champ repeated. "Like the fourteenth or something. Fifteenth?"

"Fourteenth." Techno confirmed.

"The fourteenth? Am I back?" Type asked with frustration. It was just the eleventh. There was a way to find out for sure. "Wait, where's--"

"Ugh," a third voice cut him off and into the room stepped Tharn. "You're finally awake."

The man walked up to his bedside in between Techno and Champ.


Type was so happy to see him, he forgot himself. He instantly sat forward, pulling the man in for a tight hug.

Type laughed semi-hysterically. "Thank fuck. I thought I lost--"

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Tharn shoved Type off of him roughly. "Are you crazy?"

Type's heart shattered as he fell back. The face he looked up at was curt and glaring. Brows pulled into a furrow, mouth in a perpetual frown, eyes as hard as stone.

It was his Tharn.

It had been so long since Type had seen that expression on Tharn's face that it didn't look real. It certainly didn't look right. Type couldn't believe it.

"No…" He whispered weakly.

"Well since you've decided to come back to us, I can finally leave." Tharn rolled his eyes, walking right back out. "Do us all a favor, Thiwat, and gain some perspective okay? Lost half my day for this."

The door slammed shut.

"Jackass." Techno scoffed. "It was basically his fault, he practically pulled you into the path of that ball."

But Type didn't care who's fault it was. He didn't care about anything anymore. Tharn was...gone.

Really gone. He didn't love Type anymore. He didn't even like him.

And now Type…

Type grabbed the front of his shirt at his chest. It hurt more than ever. Worse than any pain he thought he felt in the other world.

"Techno," Type swallowed, "Champ, thank you for watching over me. I-- I think I'm gonna go home now."

"Yeah, yeah go." Techno agreed. "Don't sweat it."

Type gathered his things with shaking fingers, pushing past the both of them, trying not to spare them any glances. He didn't know what his face must look like and he didn't want any questions.

"Feel better, Type." Were Champ's parting words as the door closed.

Through the whole walk home, Type fought his feelings down. He would be okay. He could handle this.

This was his reality, how things were supposed to be. That other Tharn…

How he held me. How it felt when he was with me.

It wasn't real.

He was just a dream.

Type told himself these things till the moment he locked his door. Then he finally knelt down and cried.

What am I supposed to do?

"Stupid, rotten, fucking jerk!" He hiccupped to no one.

These feelings...I am alone.

"You piece of shit, are you happy now? You did it." He angrily wiped his tears, but more kept coming. "I hate you."

I love you, I love you, I love you.


Chapter Text


Type took a second to rub out the soreness in his chest when he stepped back on school grounds. He took an empty look around for a moment before he continued on his way.

Then he instantly turned around and started going the right way towards his own class. Stupid. He didn't have History first.

Wait...does that mean…

If he went to that building, to the classroom…

Would he be there?

Type's steps faltered.


It didn't matter either way. This Tharn wasn't like that. Didn't love him.

But the other Tharn said…

Type shook his head vigorously. It was impossible. Type remembered the scowl that had greeted him yesterday when he woke up.

There's no way the person who made a face full of that much contempt, could secretly love Type. No way.

Type shook off his stupid thoughts and decided to continue normally.

Only doing that proved to be more difficult than Type thought.




I'd forgotten the routine.

Champ and Type arrived in the canteen later that afternoon, which was moderately full at this time of day. They went together through the lunch line before finding a decent seat.

"Sup scrubs."

Techno had joined them moments later.

"Mm." Type hummed his greeting while Champ moved his bag for Techno to sit.

"So did you email your professors about ditching yesterday?" Techno questioned.

Type pushed the food around his plate absent-mindedly "Yeah, got it all worked out."

He could still feel the ghost of Tharn's arm wrapped around his waist. That man never let him have a moment to himself to breathe. And usually at lunch they would be sitting together with their friends, side by side, with Tharn throwing an arm securely around Type's waist.

"...supposed to be the Pirate's--"

"I'm gonna go get a drink." Type interrupted Champ by saying.

"Yeah, have fun." Techno waved.

Type pushed himself up and away. He sighed, rubbing his tired face as he approached one of the many machines lined up against the wall.

He dug out his wallet before perusing the drinks.


They were sold out of pink milk, his obvious favorite.

Funny how it works.

Type was instantly brought back to the other world. The one where Tharn would have already given him his drink, because he knew. Because he cared.

Type scoffed the memory away, moving on to the next machine.

Reminiscing one reality while living another.

Only for it and the third and final one to be sold out too.

How could I have let my guard down?

"You know it wasn't as hard as I thought."

Tharn's voice startled Type out of his frustrations. His heart shook as he turned to that face.

This time it was twisted into a sadistic grin.

Tum standing slightly behind Tharn was also smirking. Type suddenly and shockingly found that he missed when they were friends too.

"There was only one left." Tharn clarified. He lifted his hand and showed Type his favorite drink, shaking it for emphasis. "Looking for something, Thiwat?"


"Here, my Type." Tharn smiled as he offered the drink.

Type blinked up at him, slowly taking it. "This is my did you--"

"Please," Tharn chuckled, kissing his cheek, "it's my job to know, and my pleasure to provide."


Type's breath caught as his hand slowly clenched at his chest. He couldn't say a thing. He just missed Tharn. He couldn't bear to look at this one any longer.

Type swallowed the lump in his throat and turned away without another word.

It was almost worthwhile, the look on this Tharn's face. The shock from Type's lack of interaction.

"Hey!" Tharn called after him. "Don't walk away from me!"

Type ignored him as he returned to their table and sat down.

"Woah, what was that about?" Champ eyed Tharn and Tum as they left.

"Can that piss ant give it a rest for even one day?" Techno scoffed.

Type shook his head at the both of them. "Forget about him. It's not worth it."

I miss him. He thought pathetically.

"Dude!" Techno nudged him. "Of course it's worth it! You gotta stand up to that jerk!"

"No, I don't." Type stabbed his food particularly roughly. "I'm just gonna leave him alone from now on."


"Can we just drop this?" Type sighed. "It's giving me a headache."

"Yeah I don't blame you." Champ said. "Must be a pain fighting with him all the time."

"Well it's gonna be different now." Type insisted. "I'm done with him."

Techno snickered beside him. "Yeah, I'll believe that when I see it."

Me too.




"Type," Tharn looked up at him with sad eyes, "I love you, you know. Don't you love me too?"

"Yes," Type nodded. "Of course I do."

"Then why didn't you kiss me?" Tharn asked.

Type shook his head, "I don't know."

"Well now it's too late to know." Tharn sighed sadly. He let go of Type's hands.

"No. Don't say that." Type stepped up, but Tharn was already retreating.

"Goodbye, my Type."


Type woke up with a gasp. He sat up abruptly, and looked around his room. At his walls and at his bedside table.

Type sighed when he realized he was still home. But whether it was from relief or remorse, he didn't know.

Then he covered his stupid face with his stupid pillow.

Damn it.

He's been back for a week now. And he was still dreaming of Tharn. That Tharn.

Type growled out in frustration.

Fuck! And that fucker promised he loved me!

"Lying asshole." Type hissed.

He dropped his pillow and moved to get ready for the day.

Type's been avoiding Tharn as much as possible, which was both much easier and much harder than he'd thought it would be.

Much easier because Tharn wasn't acting like his constant shadow in this world. Type rarely saw him throughout the day. But much harder because of their old routine, Tharn was determined to mess with him every single day. So it didn't matter how much he avoided the guy throughout the day, he always saw him at least once.

It was annoying.

It was also how Type knew now, as he opened his locker only to see his baseball uniform missing, that Tharn was behind this.

He groaned, slamming his head against the side of the locker frame. Can that idiot just take a hint and leave him alone?

He sighed as he turned to Tum, already tired of this. "Where is he?"

Tum glared at Type like he was the dirt under his shoe. "I don't know what the hell you mean."

Type pinched his nose in frustration. "Tum I just want to get dressed and go to practice, tell me where he is so I can get my uniform."

Tum scoffed as he walked past Type. "He's at the bleachers. It's open practice after all." Then he added just before he left. "Better not be late, captain."

Type slammed his locker shut. It did little to calm his nerves.

"Want me to come with?" Champ offered.

Type smiled over at his friend weakly. "No Champ, thanks. I can handle him on my own."

"You know just a week ago, I would have insisted on coming," Champ indulged. "But you've been really good about keeping your distance, even with all the shitty things he keeps doing."

"It's a blessing and a curse." Type shrugged.

"If you ever need me to kick his ass for you, I'm there." Champ winked, closing his locker.

Type actually cracked a genuine smile. It felt like it's been forever. "Thanks man."

"No problem." Champ nodded seriously. "I got your back."

Champ swung his arm around Type's shoulders and out they walked together.

They parted at the entrance to the diamond, when Champ went to join the others and Type surveyed the bleachers for him.

He wasn't hard to spot, after all not many people actually came to watch them practice. Type sighed deeply. Already in the mindset of getting the hell out of there as soon as he possibly could, he marched up the steps.

Tharn didn't move as Type came up to him. He pretended as if Type didn't not exist.

"Tharn," Type started. "Hand it over."

"I don't know what you mean." Tharn said, smiling.

But it wasn't the smile Type was used to seeing from that face. This was a poor echo of what could have been. What once was.

Type nodded. Okay. If that's how he wanted it to be.

He sat down next to Tharn.

This action surprised the other man so much, he turned to face Type in shock.

"This can't continue." Type sighed.


"I'm done fighting with you, okay?" Type said evenly. "I'm done with all of it. I'm not gonna engage you anymore, and I think it would be best if we avoided each other completely."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Type laughed. "And I thought I was clear." He turned to look Tharn in the eyes. "Stay away from me Tharn. I mean it. Leave me alone and I'll do the same for you."

And it was quiet between them.

"What happened?" Tharn finally asked. All his pretenses dropped in an instant. He was being a very rare level of real. "You've been acting weird ever since you woke up, starting when you-- hugged me."

Type winced. He closed his eyes and looked away. "Yeah," he gritted his teeth, "you can just forget about that." He said. "Forget about all this okay?"

Then he abruptly sat up and began walking away as fast as he could.

"What? Hey wait! What about your uniform?!" Tharn called after him.

Type didn't even look back. "Keep it!"




Type found his uniform back in his locker the next day. But Tharn hadn't listened. He hadn't been tormenting Type either, just trying to talk to him, trying to corner him into an explanation.

It was happening even now.

Type was at the vending machines, grabbing his favorite drink when he spotted him. Tharn was coming right for him. No posey, no tricks or pranks.

Type didn't even look at him. "You're not gonna stop are you?"

Tharn scoffed. "What do you think?"

"Yeah," Type sighed and nodded.

He gestured for Tharn to take a seat on the bench beside the last machine of the line.

Tharn waited a beat before he obliged.

Type followed soon after.

It was several minutes of silence between them before Type found the correct jumble of words in his head to voice. Well, it was the best he could come up with, still it was something, right?

He sighed. "When I was...asleep I guess? After I got knocked out by that ball," Type began opening his drink. "I went to another place. A parallel world. And I was stuck in that world for almost a month." He took a swig and paused. "A world where you and I are a couple."

Tharn chortled. "What?" He looked at Type like he was expecting the man to respond in kind. As if it had been a terrible joke. But Type was dead serious, anyone could see that.

"What?" Tharn repeated, a little more seriously. The smile fell off his face.

Type ignored him. "In that world, I told that other Tharn of our situation. How there was no way in hell you and I would ever date." He chuckled. "But the other you was insistent. He was sure that in any universe he, you," Type smiled bitterly, "would always love me. He was-- he made me-- agh." He swiped his hand over his face. "I was in that place for so long, I think I went crazy. However it happened, I fell in love with that guy." He finally admitted, his hand still over his eyes.

Type could almost laugh at himself, his feelings resurfacing unexpectedly strong with this confession. An unfortunate byproduct, but he had to continue. "But you don't have to worry," Type quickly said. He spared a glance back at Tharn, who was too bewildered to speak. "I won't confess to you, or bother you with my new feelings. Just...if you could do me a favor?"

Tharn swallowed looking at Type skeptically. "What?"

"Just stay away from me." Type requested softly. "I can't, you don't-- just until I get over you."

"Why do that?" Tharn asked unexpectedly.


Tharn gestured to Type's chest where his fist was balling up the front of his shirt. "That."

Type looked down before snapping up. "Oh," he smoothed his shirt over, with a huff of air. "It's nothing. I just--" then he dropped his head, "you wouldn't understand, getting over someone who never loved you in the first place."

Tharn fixed Type with a hard expression.

"Um, s-so anyway." Type tried awkwardly. "I promise this is the first and last time I'll bother you with this." Then he did the complete last thing Tharn ever thought he would do. He bowed. It was slight, and Type wasn't looking at him anymore, but it was sincere. "Please forget about all this and we'll never bother each other again."

Then he stood. The last piece of hope that was kept in his soul fell as he rose.

Funny. He didn't think he had anything left. After all, how many times could the same heart break?

He supposed he would rush home and cry one last time, come to terms about the relationship he'll never have, before finally beginning to forget that Tharn and his world for good.

But just as Type took the one step, there were fingers around his wrist.

"Wait," Came the voice behind him.

Type's heart stopped, he looked back.

Tharns head was ducked and his poster was extremely tense. "That Tharn from the other world," he looked up at Type with determination and uncertainty, "he...may not have been...completely wrong."

Type felt the breath leave him. "What?"




"What the hell are you talking about?" Type shook Tharn's hand off of him.

"I mean…" Tharn closed his eyes tight, and was he...blushing?!

"Just let me kiss you." Tharn had plead way back when, in another life.

Type took a step back, he couldn't believe this.

"I mean he is right, Type." Tharn said seriously. He looked right into Type's worried eyes. "I'm in love with you. I have been for a while."

"Let me kiss you, and then you can tell me if you're not mine all over again."

"Wh-" Type let out a gasp, "What?! Why the hell didn't you say anything?!" He took a pause, he couldn't believe this. How could Tharn-- how could he be saying this?? Now? "You know how long I've been suffering because of you?! Give me back those days, you lousy piece of shit! How dare you not tell me!"

"W-wait Tharn!" No. Not 'wait Tharn' don't wait. Go!

Tharn stood to defend himself. "Well how the hell was I supposed to know how you were feeling?!" He shot back. "You're honestly telling me that you would have accepted me if I would have confessed before now?! I'm not the only one to blame here!"

"Tomorrow!" Why? Why tomorrow? You'll never see him again.

"What about when I hugged you?!" Type accused. "You pushed me away! Can you even imagine what that felt like?"

"Then why didn't you kiss me?" The dream had asked, but Type couldn't answer.

"You can't blame me for that!" Tharn insisted. "I didn't know!"

"I don't know." I'm sorry.

"Well what the fuck are you waiting for, Kirigun?" Type seethed.

"Well now it's too late to know." No, it's not. 


"I've just confessed." Type clarified. "What are you gonna do about it?"


I won't let it.

Type stepped forward, roughly grabbing Tharn by his shirt and pulled him in with a growl as he kissed him harshly.

Tharn made a noise of surprise as their lips connected.

Type held him as long as he could stand, he held him through the blush that overtook his face, through the thoughts screaming in his brain, and even through the pounding of his own pulse.

He could hardly feel it when Tharn put his hands in his hair. But a swell rushed through him once he realized that was happening. Oh, to be held again. To be loved by this man again.

When Type finally pulled back, Tharn went rigid, holding them in place.

"Hey," Tharn questioned darkly, "who told you to stop?"

Type's heart vibrated with excitement. He'd only seen that look on Tharn's face once. In the other world, on their anniversary night.

Type smirked. "Come on, then."

And Tharn smirked too. Before he closed his eyes and sealed the deal.




Type collapsed on the bed with a gasp. Again.

"You couldn't have…" he took a moment to catch his breath. His whole body was singing, and damn he felt good. "Gone easier on me?"

He looked at Tharn in exasperation.

The recipient of Type's stare was sitting up on the other end of the bed. He was still between Type's legs, one of his hands massaged Type's ankle while the other was holding up his fresh water bottle.

A thin sheen of sweat covered his entire naked body, and he was breathing harder than usual, but other than that, the bastard was just fine.

He shrugged as he brought the bottle to his lips. "You started it."

Type steadfastly sat up in protest. "How?!" Then he winced and felt his lower back. Damn.

"You had me pent up for over two years." Tharn said. "Plus you were too sexy to resist even a little once you gave yourself to me."

Tharn finished the last bit with a smirk, taking another swig.

"But how is that-"

Tharn silence him as he swooped in with a quick kiss.

Type squeaked as he flew back, swallowing an unexpected gulp of water.

He gave me a drink from his mouth!!

Tharn chuckled, wiping his lips smugly.

When Type recovered himself he kicked away from Tharn and the bed, only grunting a little at the effort that moving took.

"Whatever, I'm getting a towel." He announced as he opened the adjoining bathroom door.

When he stepped in, he had to pause. It looked exactly as he remembered from the other world. He flushed when he took a sneak peak at Tharn's huge tub.

When Type came back out, rubbing himself down with a damp towelette, he noticed Tharn was watching him curiously.


"How did you know that was a bathroom?" Tharn asked.

"Hm?" Type looked to the door. Oh yeah. This was supposed to be his first time here. "Oh. In the other world, this is where I was when I woke up."

"You woke my room?" Tharn questioned.

Type nodded. "You had that exact band poster on your wall." He pointed ahead of them. "And taped on the inside of your closet door is another poster, am I right?" He asked, already knowing that this was the case.

"Wow." Tharn exhaled. "So parallel world's do exist."

Type suddenly laughed. "Yeah. You can imagine my shock when I woke up naked together with the other you."

"..." Tharn looked at him. "What?"

"It was the only way I knew I wasn't dreaming and I wasn't in my own world." Type explained. "I'd woken up on their anniversary day and Tharn was well…" he flushed to remember, "celebrating with me- woah!"

Type was suddenly thrown on his back on the mattress. The rag was pulled from his hands and his wrists were pinned to the bed.

Tharn was over him in moments, he was frowning fiercely. "I don’t know if I like that." He grumped.

Type's confusion and surprise melted away instantly. He couldn't help but laugh. "Don't tell me you're jealous of yourself?"

"The things he did with you," Tharn asked seriously, ignoring Type's teasing, "did you go all the way?"

"What kind of question is that?" Type sputtered his giggles, his face heating up. "Of course! It was their anniversary!"

Tharn growled and held him down harder. "And it was your first time?"

"T-tharn you're being ridiculous. So what? It was still you!" Type said.

"You told me you fell in love with him." Tharn said.

Type softened up. Behind the ridiculous jealousy was real concern. "You idiot." He leaned up to kiss the corner of Tharn's mouth. "It's you that I love. It always was."

"You miss him." Tharn said obviously, but he let go of Type.

Type pushed himself up and into Tharn's lap, the man naturally wrapped his arms around Type's waist and the whole world felt right again.

"He's you." Type reminded. "I love you."

Tharn closed his eyes. "Say that again."

Type scoffed awkwardly, looking away. "Tharn, come on."

"Please?" Tharn nudged his nose with Type's before kissing him.

Type sighed, holding Tharn's face in his hands. He waited till those big brown eyes gazed into his own.

"I love you." Type whispered simply.

And Tharn kissed him.

"I'm sorry I hurt you." He apologized. "After you woke up, when you thought I didn't love you back. When you thought you were alone. I'm sorry, Type."

Type shook his head. "It doesn't matter now. You eventually got your head on straight."

Tharn still didn't look happy, but he didn't comment on it anymore.

Suddenly a thought popped into Type's head. "Oh yeah." He said to himself, then he nudged Tharn, "Hey."


"We should...take a picture together...sometime." Type looked away shyly.

"What?" Tharn twisted his expression. "Why?"

"I don't know," Type shrugged, still not looking up, "isn't that what couples do?"

Tharn regarded Type's disposition for a second of pause, then he leaned over the bed, reaching for his clothes which were strewn across the floor.

When Tharn sat up again, he was unlocking his phone.

"Um. What are you doing?"

"Didn't you say you wanted a picture?"

Tharn held his hand up, suddenly pulling Type in close. Their heads looked up at his screen at the same time.

"W-what? Wait! Not like this!"





Type grunted as he woke up to the harsh ringing of his 6:10 alarm. He gave a yawn and a good stretch before he deposited his phone over to his night stand.

He hesitated pulling his arm back when his eyes cast upon the new picture frame that rested there. His fingers caressed the sleek wood softly.

It was a clear selfie taken by Tharn. Tharn had his arm thrown around Type's neck as he kissed his cheek with a smile, and Type had one eye closed and a beaming smile as he looked right at the camera.

The Type just waking up, smiled lazily and drew his arm back still staring at it. He had a wall of photos over by his work desk of him and Tharn being gross together. And he didn't mind.