"I'm not expecting anything out of you," Krem said, soft, searching Thomas's face gently. He seemed to be slipping off into his head again, like he had a tendency to do from time to time, and Krem worried that there had been a line crossed.

The stickiness, as Thomas pulled away, didn't bother Krem so much. He was used to that being a part of sex with young men. Thomas pulling away, the tone in his voice, made a little flush run up Krem's cheeks, contrition mixed with worry. He tried to not think too much on it. He was old--older, at least.

"We should get a cloth, or shower," he mumbled.