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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Krem sighed, pressing a kiss to Thomas's forehead as his fingers traveled around of their own volition now, without guidance or the hindrance of the heaviness of shirts and jeans. Some small part of him speculated on the prospect of if they had tried to do this before Krem had discovered the wonder of sports bras and binders, back when he was still wearing his stay, or any of his other clothing from home. The thought of Thomas trying to navigate the layers of his outer clothes, let alone his under clothes, made him snort softly.

"No, this is definitely a bit past looking," he said gently, mouth lazy with a grin. He tipped his head down to kiss Thomas. "I'm rather alright with that. Though, how do I measure up as a pillow?"

"You're not bad," Thomas mumbled against Krem's lips, shrugging one thin shoulder. He didn't have much to compare it to, of course, but he knew he was comfortable and warm right now so that made Krem a shucking good pillow.

"Could be softer," he teased, pulling away and giving his stomach a light poke. The poking turned into Thomas pressing his hand down and stroking his nails back and forth along Krem's skin. "Should get to work on that. I might need a pillow in the future too."

"Not bad," Krem said, a smile on his lips as he carded his fingers through Thomas's hair. "You're not even on the comfortable parts..."

Krem had meant to say something a little more teasing perhaps, but the words got lost, tripped up and scrambled in a vague little noise as Thomas's nails scraped over his stomach. He shivered, heat racing down his body, sinking low in his belly. Unconsciously, his thighs squirmed together a bit.

Considering Thomas had his hands on Krem's stomach and his eyes on that movement, he didn't miss the movement of Krem's thighs. He reached down and slid his fingers over one of his thighs, lightly, tentatively, not wanting to step over any line Krem had.

"I can find the comfortable parts, if you want," Thomas murmured, glancing up at Krem and smiling gently at him. He knew there were comfortable parts, he wasn't that dumb, but touching them was a whole new thing for him. It'd be fumbly, maybe a little slow but he wanted to try.

Krem's breath hitched up a touch, a ruffling of air across Thomas's dark hair. He nuzzled at him, breathed in against him for a moment. There was a spike of nervousness in him that lasted only a second; not fear or anxiety or any sort of dread, because this was Thomas, and he was nervous and gentle and slow and that helped. But it was a nervousness of the newness of the two of them together.

He slid his hand down, covering Thomas's hand and threading their fingers together. Slowly, he pulled Thomas's hand up from his thigh to the front of his shorts. As when he touched Thomas, he kept their fingers outside, for now, but the warmth and the longing in his stomach begged for it.

"I have a few, if you want to explore," Krem said softly, leaning down to kiss Thomas again.

Thomas shivered but pressed his fingers down more firmly, acclimating himself to the new touch and letting Krem get used to his fingers. He knew he was clumsy and maybe not ideal so he didn't want to go too quick and completely shuck things up for the both of them.

"I've never done this before," Thomas said against Krem's lips, a statement so obvious that it probably didn't need to be said. "Show me. I might need a little help."

The shiver gave way to a blush and he bowed his head, forehead resting against Krem's shoulder. "Sorry."

Krem sighed against Thomas's mouth, the curious, clumsy tough a thrill all on its own for all its uncertainty. He spread his legs, just a bit, lifted the one on the outside of the bed so he could put his foot flat, knee bent; it opened him up a bit more, an exposing gesture, a welcoming one.

"It's okay." He coaxed Thomas gently back up, kissing him again. "As long as you want to. I'm...very easy to please. We can just kiss a while, and I'll probably..."

A flush rushed over Krem's face, and he breathed out a laugh. "The second time, ever, I was with someone, I got off just from kissing and some love bites. You're doing fine."

"I want to, I want to," Thomas said emphatically, nodding. He looked down at his hand, at the fingers Krem had pressed against the front of his shorts. He knew that it'd be different than what Krem had just done to him, that he couldn't just use what he'd felt and apply it here but that didn't matter. He wanted to try.

"What should I do?" he asked, leaning up and pressing a kiss against the underside of Krem's chin and down his throat. "You don't need to give me step by step guidance, just...what kinds of things do you like. Besides kissing. Kissing I'm going to do."

Krem sighed a little, tilting his head back into the pillow to expose his neck to the way that Thomas was kissing at him. He ran his own hands over Thomas's arms slowly, squeezing his biceps and then easing one hand down to cover Thomas's again.

Gently, he shifted Thomas's hand. It was only a slight adjustment--the slide of his palm, the curl of his fingers, and then Thomas's whole long-fingered hand was cupping him. Krem let out a moan, soft and breathless, that washed away into the space above his head.

"Anywhere your hand is is good," he breathed, trying to be steady for a moment longer. "To rub, to touch. Exploring's good. I'm still...pretty new to what's good, too. But it feels good."

"Okay," Thomas breathed against Krem's skin, pulling his lips away only to taste Krem with his tongue. He used the tip of his tongue and moved down the long column of Krem's neck, stopping in the hollow right above Krem's collar bone. He used his tongue to race the bone there before shifting closer again and returning his lips to Krem's neck.

His hand lay still for a few seconds before he remembered he could multi-task. He could use his tongue and he could use his fingers so he did. He pressed one finger, two fingers, three down and then stopped, repeating the process before rubbing them firmly, smoothly back and forth over the fabric of Krem's shorts, pushing down in the hopes that that was something good, that would give him more friction, something to enjoy.

Even if Thomas hadn't moved his hand, if it had just been the steady warmth and weight of his body close against him and his hand cupping him and his lips and tongue moving however they pleased now, adventurous instead of cautious, Krem would have been electric with sensation. Then Thomas started to move his fingers, just softly and curiously, and even though was a torrent of sparks through Krem.

Unlike Thomas out on the couch, Krem didn't hesitate to let Thomas know he'd done well by bucking his hips gently up against his palm and rolling his hips. He closed his eyes for a moment, let his body speak for him. Soft, needy noises in response to Thomas's lips on his skin; the steady heat and the wet building between his thighs; his hips shifted against the curve of Thomas's hand.

If he hadn't been otherwise occupied, if he hadn't wanted to feel more and hear more and see more of Krem reacting to him, he might have slid back and just gawked for causing such things in another person. He'd never thought the opportunity would have arisen, not even after he'd gotten to Darrow and the threat of WICKED and the Scorch and the Flare were no longer heavy on his shoulders.

Thomas pressed his face against Thomas's bite and nipped gently, Krem's words from before about kissing and love bites ringing in his ear. If that was something he liked, Thomas wanted to give it to him.

He pressed down with the heel of his hand, sliding that down the front of Krem's shorts and pressing again before re-positioning his hand, fingers pressing down against the clothing again and caressing as smoothly as his slightly shaking hand would let him.

The first gentle nip wrung a gasp out of Krem, louder than his gasping breaths and soft sighs, more concrete. He arched his back and squirmed for a moment, seeking out every inch of Thomas's body to press his again. It all felt spectacular.

"You can..." The words trailed off a little, swallowed into Krem's breathing for a moment, into the softness of his voice, and he cleared his throat. He ran his fingers up into Thomas's hair, then down his spine slowly. "You can move my shorts, if you...? It can be easier? Or...?"

His toes curled a little and he bit his lip, suddenly nervous, suddenly overcome with how close they were and how warm Thomas's body was and the gentle tremors in his body. "It's good. It feels good. Please don't stop?"

"I'm not going to stop," Thomas breathed against Krem's neck, licking the spot he'd just bitten. He leaned closer and sucked on Krem's neck, going with what felt right, what his instincts told him Krem might like all things considered.

Thomas gently pulled his hand back. He glanced down, trying to make sure that he didn't end up with his hand some place it wasn't wanted. He tucked his fingers beneath the waist of Krem's shorts and pushed down, already feeling the heat and dampness though it was much stronger now that there wasn't clothing between them.

Thomas breathed raggedly against Krem's neck and cupped his cunt, pressing his palm down before pushing one finger inside Krem tentatively, grateful that his fingers were long and flexible right now.

Thomas's words sank through him, a rock in a pond, ripples casting outward. Something in Krem's chest clenched, and it was a purely desirous sort of clench, a purely adoring one. Thomas's mouth was hot, his teeth and tongue a secondary behind the basic suction, and Krem moaned, a full noise, as his nails slanted against Thomas's back for a moment.

His breathing hitched up at the first nervous move Thomas made to reach into his shorts. Even as the touch was cautious, a little clumsy, Krem could feel himself moving toward it, inviting and excited by it. Touch was still so new to him, and he enjoyed learning it, knowing enough to be able to teach someone he cared about what he liked and otherwise expanding what he knew about himself to include new and exciting things.

Then, fingers were sliding against him and Krem's breath turned into a sighing moan. Thomas's hand felt big and warm against his cunt, his palm elegantly wide. Even if he was uncertain, he didn't seem it, a finger rocking in, and Krem squeezed around him, just for a moment.

Thomas barely stopped himself from asking if what he was doing was okay. He knew he needed to break himself of that habit, to trust his instincts and trust Krem to tell him something he was doing wasn't wanted. So, he kept his mouth fastened on Krem's neck, pressing open mouthed kisses down to his shoulder and back up again.

For a second, he kept his finger still, letting Krem adjust, letting himself get used to the feeling, the tightness. He gave his finger a slight wriggle, back and forth before slowly withdrawing his finger so he could slide it back in, faster and a little firmer, less tentative.

It didn't take much for Krem to adjust, already slick and warm, and quickly settling to the sensation of Thomas tucked in close and touching him. Still, he appreciated the initial hesitation, the cautious curiosity.

Krem whined a little as Thomas started to pull his finger back, but it transformed into a healthy, needy moan as his finger slid back in again, filling him up once more. He shifted his hips, shivered a little, so that Thomas's finger sank in a little bit further than before.

"Oh," he sighed a little, laughing breathlessly. He urged Thomas gently between his sprawled thighs, offering him a soft smile, a smudged kiss, a needy sigh. "Like that, yes."

"Okay, like that," Thomas said, taking that encouragement with a quick nod and a kiss against Krem's neck. He could take instruction pretty well when he wanted to and he had no idea or desire to rebel right now. he wanted to give Krem what Krem had given him even if this might be a little less messy.

Thomas used the heel of his hand again, cupping Krem;s cunt and pushing down, rotating his wrist slightly to provide more pressure and maybe some more friction. Krem seemed to really like his fingers though so he reached to slide two fingers inside of him now, listening for Krem's reaction as he pushed in, tried to slide in as far as he'd been in just a minute ago.

A tremble raced up through Krem's body, starting at his toes and going all the way up. He arched a bit, pressing his body close to Thomas, tilting his head to kiss at his hair and his forehead between ragged breaths.

All his squirming--he was a little embarrassed for squirming so much, but he couldn't quite help it; being more expressive with his body was probably better than trying to hold back--had hooked his shorts low on his hips and he whined just a little. He reached down, hooking his thumbs in the waistbands of them and pushing them down his thighs. It was easier to squirm out of them almost entirely, leaving them on one leg and himself exposed and bare.

Thomas's fingers were pleasantly filling, long and determined, and the heel of his palm ground down on him with a sort of clumsy lack of knowledge that was all friction with no direction. The sheer fumbling innocence, the discovery of it, made it better. Krem brought his hands back up to cup the back of Thomas's neck, squeezing gently.

All Thomas was doing was using his fingers and his mouth and even his breathing had sped up, quickened and gotten heavier. He still worried that he wasn't doing this right, that he could have been doing it better but he fought against the urge to pull back and apologize. There was something good happening so he pushed on and, in this instance, pushed in.

His fingers seemed to be the best bet so he kept moving them, sliding against the warm, wet heat and experimenting with curling and stretching his fingers out while they were inside Krem. It was all gentle, all slow, trying not to hurt but trying to do something right, something good.

He kissed Krem's jaw, soft and fluttering, before ducking down and hiding his face against Krem's shoulder, trying to concentrate and focus on his fingers, on their movements.

Krem tilted his head back, exposing his jaw and neck and shoulder to more of Thomas's kisses. He could feel his breath fluttering on his skin, as ragged as his own. Could feel his breathing, the way his lungs filled and shivered with each breath, the way his skin shifted over his ribs, the way their torsos jostled together gently.

He moaned, softly, with each new way that Thomas moved his fingers. Each one was a new, nervous experimentation, a slow and curious trial, and it made his whole body burn with desire.

He licked his lips, cheeks flushed, nervous. "I...I've got condoms...if you'd like to...?"

"I've never -- " Thomas didn't think he had to say anything more than that. He'd never done that with anyone. He'd barely thought about it, actually, except very recently.

His fingers slowed but didn't stop while he tried to form words that made sense. Thomas looked down, watching his fingers disappear into Krem's cunt and he let out a moan at the sight.

"I don't know how," he mumbled, embarrassed as soon as those words left his mouth. "That -- I know the basics, I just don't think I'd be good at it."

The flush on his cheeks raced down his body, a pleasant, glowing flush diffusing his olive skin. A shiver chased after it. Thomas's soft, worried voice and the confessing words were no surprise, he was as cautious and nervous as Krem had been his first time. But the way he looked at Krem, the noise he made, was almost enough to unwind him.

"We don't have to," Krem said, but it was a careful thing, barely held together at the edges, his thoughts frayed with desire. He carded his fingers through Thomas's hair. "This is all more than I'd thought--I wasn't expecting anything. It feels amazing."

He kissed Thomas's forehead. "You feel amazing, Thomas. Your fingers... Maker."

There was a tremor in Thomas's voice, desire mixed in with gratitude for the words Krem had taken time to say to him. Thomas closed his eyes and exhaled a shaky laugh, nuzzling against Krem for a second.

Thomas took the words and the confidence they instilled and moved his fingers quicker. It wasn't at all elegant and his strokes stuttered every so often but he was committed and focused and trying.

His fingers were slick and he used that lubrication to make the thrusts easier, used to try and push a little deeper every so often. Nothing risky, nothing over the top but new things, new touches.

Krem's own voice dissolved, quickly enough, into a stuttering sort of moan. He wrapped an arm around Thomas's shoulder, drawing him gently up so he could kiss him deeply. His breath jumped and hurried, a rushed and flurrying sort of thing.

Cautiously, he reached a hand down between them and cupped his hand against Thomas's groin again, squeezing gently, rubbing like he had on the couch. He didn't have a lot of control over his voice any more, with the way that Thomas was moving his fingers, but he could still touch. His fingers were nearly as clumsy as Thomas's were.