Back home, Thomas had imagined kissing someone maybe once or twice. It had been a fleeting thing, an interaction that he never thought would actually happen to him. He was too bad a person, too terrible for someone to take an interest in him despite any mutual guilt issues.

The Thomas of then hadn't known what he was missing. Kissing was messy and wet and it was also so good. It was warm and it made his stomach turn flips and his skin heat up. He spread his fingers out against Krem's back again, pressing his palm down and sliding it up higher.