Krem was a mess of sensations for a moment. Thomas's breath, the hot slick of his mouth, the very edge of his teeth; the tension of his thigh, his stomach, so close to Krem's own skin; and then there was the feel of him, the faint twitch under his palm and then, suddenly, not so faint. Krem inhaled, letting out a faint sound behind Thomas's shout pressed into his skin. He stroked him through it, as best he could.

The first drip of apology, the cant of Thomas's shoulders toward shame, pulled Krem's mouth down into a frown. "What are you apologizing for? Hey."

Krem slipped his hand from Thomas's hair along his jaw to cup his face, as he had been early. He tilted his chin up gently, so he wasn't buried into his chest, and smoothed his thumb across Thomas's cheekbone.

"...you wanted that, right?"