If Thomas was nervous about his kissing, it didn't translate through to the act, at least not onto Krem's end. All Krem knew was that Thomas was kissing him back, that they were tangled up close and holding each other.

He sighed, shifting and tilting his head to deepen the kiss a little more. It wasn't the fleeting kiss like in his kitchen or the swift, little ones he'd given Thomas since they'd gotten back, nor the tumultuous one from the Fall Festival. This felt much more even keel, like privacy was lending itself toward building to something.