krempuff | (no subject)

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The trouble with planning to not have plans was that, inevitably, it left Krem feeling like he ought to make plans anyway. He'd settled on making the barest plans that he could comfortably suffer while still calling the whole thing an act of relative spontaneity. They had, after all, planned the time together; they'd made sure their schedules were free of work or other obligations, had told their other friends they would be otherwise occupied, and promised each other the time. Neither of them were known for their ability to suffer idleness well, so Krem knew there would be at least one outing. Structured spontaneity. That sounded quite good.

So, he came with a small overnight bag, since they had discussed that option briefly and he liked that potential, the learning of being in Thomas's space for that long--but, more importantly, it had his running shoes in it--and with a large box full of a myriad variety of Chinese foods because he felt that a lie in was obligated to have food that they didn't really have to clean up after.

He'd texted Thomas to let him know that he was on his way after he'd picked up the food, and--grateful that there were no more animals loose in the streets--he headed there presently.

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"Someone tried to convince me that pineapples on a pizza was a good thing and I had to disagree pretty intensely," Thomas said, settling the box carefully on the coffee table and reaching for a container at random.

"Fruit doesn't belong on pizza. Fruit belongs as a fruit and maybe in those yogurt things I've seen at the store," he added, settling back with a container and one of the spoons.

"Sorry it makes you suffer, though," he continued, frowning. "I didn't even think that could happen. I don't know a lot about the sicknesses and stuff here."

Krem wrinkled his nose a little bit. He liked pineapples, quite a bit, the way they made his mouth sting a little bit when he ate too much and the tanginess of the juice. He could see the appeal of them with meat--he used them like that sometime--but not with the other parts of pizza. So he nodded along with Thomas's assessment.

"You've clearly got some sort of iron constitution," Krem said, and shrugged, digging into a box as well.

He shifted, now that they had both settled onto the couch, so that he was curled up against Thomas, tucking in against him comfortably and taking up a good half of the couch so that Thomas had the other half. It was easy and natural to fall quiet while they ate, though he was more than happy to comment on what he liked and didn't like about each of the dishes, hoping to encourage Thomas to do the same as well.

"This one's hot," Thomas said suddenly, waving his hand in front of his mouth and blowing out a few breaths. The temperature wasn't hot but whatever he'd just eaten definitely had some spice in it and his mouth had not been prepared for it.

"Good but I'm still not entirely used to how hot some things are," he said, licking his lips and eating some rice to try and soothe his mouth and tongue and lips. "Wow."

Krem laughed a little at Thomas's reaction, watching him flail in reaction to the heat of the dish. He took the container from him, tasting the contents and humming a little as the spices overwhelmed him comfortably. It wasn't spices he was familiar with, but the heat was a burn he knew how to handle a lot easier than Thomas.

"Put you off the spice? I kind of like it. It's a different sort of spice than home, but it's still good."

"No, it's good," he promised, still fanning his mouth with his free hand and nodding. "It's good, it's just different. We lived off granola bars and water back home. Frypan occasionally got creative with the meals in the Glade but nothing like this."

Even months on in Darrow, he still found things that were new and different. It was exciting but it left him flailing sometimes, feeling like he was still trying to catch up to the level where everyone else was.

Krem kept gently laughing at Thomas's continued attempts to cool his mouth down. Except for the rice, there probably wasn't much that would do anything for it. He couldn't even jokingly suggest a kiss to make it better, since he'd also ate some of the spicy dish, so now his mouth was spicy as well.

Instead, he tucked the spicy box off to one side, and tried another one. "Here, this one's not spicy."

He speared some meat and vegetables on his fork, holding it up for Thomas to sample as he curled into his side contentedly.

The burn in his mouth had subsided though Thomas could still feel the tingle on the tip of his tongue and his lips. The food had been good but he guessed he just needed to eat more spicy foods to get his body used to the strength and heat.

Thomas leaned forward to take the offered food from Krem's fork, idly making a note that that was the first time he'd ever done that. He had a long list of firsts in his head, a tally of memories he wanted to make sure he remembered.

While he chewed, he shifted his leg, tried to tangle one of his feet with Krem's down on the floor below them.

Krem smiled, a pleasant little warmth running through him as Thomas wrapped their feet against each other. Again, there was a companionable silence, filled only by the quiet background noise of Thomas's television. Krem wasn't really sure what it was that Thomas had on; he wasn't sure Thomas was sure either, but it was nice to just sort of have a noise to fill the spaces in between them, though the silence wasn't unpleasant at all.

They worked steadily through the food, until Krem had to push the box gently aside, sighing gustily.

"I think I ordered too much." He eyed the box speculatively for a moment. "At least there's more for later? Or if you're going to keep eating."

Thomas's stomach had started to protest about three bites ago but he'd pushed on to at least finish the container. There were one or two broken noodles left so he was going to call that finished.

"No no, I like to eat but not too much," he said, blowing out a breath and leaning back. Big meals were becoming more and more familiar and he was learning how to not gorge but it was still a struggle when he remembered how scarce food was back home.

"I think it can be saved for later or something," he agreed, looking over. "A snack or another meal or something. I don't know if I'll be hungry for a few days after that."

Krem hummed a little bit. They'd made a sizable dent in the food, and he was also feeling more than pleasantly full; but his experience with Chinese food was that it tended to fill you up quickly and burn off fairly rapidly.

With the food pushed aside for now--he'd get up and put it in the refrigerator in a moment--Krem curled in even more against Thomas. It was not quite how he'd imagined a lie in, sprawled on the couch and only nominally paying attention to the television when there was a warm body tucked close to him.

He reached for Thomas's hand and tangled their fingers together, the way that their angles were wrapped against each other, and sighed softly. A content smile spread over his face.

Thomas curled his fingers around Krem's watching the differences in their skin before he looked up at Krem, re-familiarizing himself with the features of his face.

"I had no idea you were so lazy," Thomas said, lowering his voice even though it was just them in the apartment. They had their privacy, they didn't need to talk low to keep a conversation quiet. "I had no idea I was such a good pillow either."

He didn't mind it, not right now. Thomas tucked himself further back against the corner of the couch, letting Krem lean more against him and warming him up where their bodies touched.

"It's a new trend," Krem said, equally soft and close. It felt nice just to speak softly even if they didn't have to, perhaps more because they didn't have to. As Thomas shifted, Krem lifted up a little, just long enough for Thomas to arrange himself, and then he draped comfortably across him.

He pillowed himself against Thomas's body, doing his best to not put too much of his heavier weight on him. With his head tucked in close to Thomas's neck and their fingers still tangled together, he sighed contentedly.

"Not a bad pillow, certainly. I've had worse. Sleeping on the ground, for instance."

"I'm a step up from sleeping on the ground," Thomas said, snickering and glancing down at the top of Krem's head. "That's certainly a new compliment."

It wasn't one that he even minded. He'd slept on the ground and he knew that anything, a balled up jacket, someone's arm, a patch of grass, anything, was more comfortable with that. He'd gotten spoiled in Darrow, having a bed and a couch and other things to laze around on.

"Do I get anything for being a good pillow? Pat on the back? Thumbs up?"

"You're several steps above sleeping on the ground," Krem informed gently, keeping his face carefully down because he was blushing now, feeling young and boyish and bold, like when they had swam together.

Part of him wished it was summer again, so that they could go. He missed the sand and the surf and the way it had felt to tumble about in the water with Thomas. He wondered if it would be different now.

Thomas kept teasing, unknowing of Krem's thoughts , and Krem tilted his head up, just a bit. He offered him a little smile. "Is that all you think you deserve? Pat on the back?"

Thomas shrugged a shoulder. "I don't know. I'm not really an expert on rewards and prizes. What do you think I deserve? A smile? An elbow in the ribs?"

He hoped that last one wasn't true. His ribs weren't tender and he had a high pain tolerance but it sounded like a positively terrible prize for letting someone use him as a pillow.

"Mmn, I think the smile's getting a little bit closer." He reached up with his free hand, not wanting to dislodge his fingers from Thomas's, and tapped him gently on the tip of his nose. It was quick and fleeting, and a second after, he cupped Thomas's cheek, lingering there gently.

"I promise I'll try to keep my elbows to myself as much as possible, as long as you try to do the same." Though it'd been a while since the fight club, and most of his bruises had faded, his bruises were still a bit tender, and it was probably best to avoid any unnecessary jabs to them.

"Closer? Closer to what?" Thomas asked, leaning his face into Krem's hand and closing his eyes for a second. He took comfort in Krem's soft hands and his warm skin. He took comfort and greedily soaked the feeling to enjoy for later.

"I'm not going to throw any elbows," he promised quietly, smiling. "Not the time or place for it. Even someone with a memory like mine knows that."

"A little closer to a good reward," Krem said. His voice had gotten even softer, maybe a little tender and light. There was a part of him that hated when his voice got like this, sweet and feminine, but he couldn't help it when he was feeling so affectionate.

As Thomas leaned his cheek into his touch, Krem's smile widened a little bit. He ran his thumb gently along Thomas's skin, tracing the shape of his cheekbone, then the slope of his jaw. He settled his thumb gently at the corner of Thomas's mouth, moving his fingers instead, caressing gently.

Somehow, like at the Fall Festival, Krem felt at once terribly bold and terribly shy. He ducked his head back down against Thomas's chest, his fingers still moving on his cheek and jaw.

"You're really good at making my stomach flip around," Thomas murmured, turning his head and pressing a gentle, almost a whisper, really, of a kiss against Krem's thumb.

He didn't know if it was all right, didn't know if Krem even wanted a touch like that but he'd learned that constantly holding himself back wasn't going to get him anything. He had to be brave, he had to take chances.

Thomas finally realized he had a free hand, a free hand that had just been slack against his thigh that he picked up and curved around Krem's neck, fingers inching up into his hair and pressing gently.

The kiss to his thumb was so soft that Krem almost thought he'd imagined it, hoping for it in the moment. He sighed a little, almost wistful, and was just starting to tilt his head up again when Thomas moved.

His hand--that was much more real, more concrete. A sure thing, long fingered and firm enough to be no accident, pressing, drawing him in. Krem rose a little, guided by Thomas's hand on the back of his head.

He gently slipped his hand away from Thomas's, so their fingers weren't locked, just because he needed to support his weight a little more easily and he didn't want to take his hand off Thomas's cheek yet. Gently, he brushed their noses together.

"I hope it's a good sort of flip."

"It's a good sort of flip," Thomas murmured, nodding very slightly. He didn't want to jostle Krem, didn't want him to pull back when he was so close that Thomas could smell him and see all the small freckles and marks on his skin.

He inhaled slowly, fingers still moving back and forth against the back of his neck. He leaned forward and returned the gesture, brushed his nose against Krem's and felt a smile cross his eyes.

Krem hummed softly, a content noise, feeling the way Thomas's chest rose and fell with his breath. His fingers were gentle, a little ticklish but more than that they rose goose flesh along Krem's arms, a creeping sensation of warmth and desire that he tried to keep tight in his chest.

Gently, he brushed his lips against Thomas's. It was fleeting but not hurried; he was still a little worried his lips might be tinged with the spice from some of the foods.

When he pulled back, he smiled a little. "How's that a reward for being a good pillow?"

It took Thomas a little longer to open his eyes. His tongue slipped out, tasted the kiss and then his eyes fluttered open and he smiled. It was mostly shy but there was something else underneath it, something he hadn't really felt before or could remember feeling.

"It's a good reward," he said, sighing. "You should do it again. Since I'm still being your pillow and everything."

Thomas also wanted it to happen again right now with him.

Krem let out a breathier sigh, a little puff of laughter against Thomas's lips. He shifted, just a touch, so that he was settled more comfortably against him, really pillowed against him. Once he'd settled, he tipped back up until their lips touched again.

This time, it was not so fleeting, though it was still slow and mostly soft. He pressed in close to Thomas, settled and warm, running his fingers from his cheek back into his hair until he was nearly mirroring the way that Thomas was holding his head.

Krem parted his lips gently, coaxing, tongue slipping out to brush against Thomas's bottom lip for just a moment.

Thomas knew he should have practiced kissing. He didn't know how he'd do that or even where to look for directions and tips but he knew he should have because he wanted this moment to be good for the both of them.

The flipping feeling in his stomach turned into a slow fire that gradually spread into his blood. The encouragement from Krem's mouth, Krem's lips made Thomas lean down and respond in kind, mouth opening a touch to kiss and then, very quickly, to taste.

His hand stayed in Krem's hair, fingers curling every so often in reaction to something good, something pleasurable.