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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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.

Thomas jolted slightly at the touch, having not expected the thrill of sharp pleasure to shoot up his spine from his cock. He smothered a moan against Krem's mouth. His fingers stopped moving for a second while he grabbed his control by the scruff of the neck and took a few breaths.

Instincts took over then, instincts to keep moving his fingers in a rough thrusting motion, using the callused pads to rub back and forth when he remembered, when he could. When he had to breathe, he didn't move too far away from Krem's mouth, breathing and letting out small quiet sounds when the touch on his cock got to be a little too much.

Krem nearly stopped when Thomas froze, but his moan drove him back into motion. He kept his hand gentle and cautious on the outside of Thomas's shorts for a while, stroking and squeezing, pausing to take his hand off whenever Thomas's breathing got just a little too ragged or fast. He wanted him to last, even if he was working so hard to get Krem off.

It felt spectacular, the way that Thomas was moving now. Krem wasn't sure why Thomas was so nervous and worried. It was like watching him run, just all fluid and natural, all strength and endurance, and Krem felt like he was holding on through sheer stubbornness. He tugged Thomas's shorts down just a bit, enough that he could wrap his hand around Thomas's cock, stroking more exactly this time.

Thomas appreciated the care Krem was taking even if his body wanted him to jerk faster and harder. This felt a lot different than what they'd done on the couch, no fabric between Krem's hands and his cock and Thomas felt like he was going to come apart at the seams if he wasn't careful.

Thomas didn't know exactly what he was waiting for, listening for but he knew Krem hadn't gotten there yet. He didn't even know if he was close and all Thomas could hope was that he wasn't doing this wrong and that Krem's hand on his cock was taking pity.

The sudden downturn of his thoughts didn't mean he stopped moving his fingers. Krem hadn't told him to stop yet and he still hoped Krem was enjoying this (slightly or otherwise). The only bad thing was that he didn't know what else he could do to help Krem along so he just kept doing what he was doing and hoped for the best.

Unaware of Thomas's stumbling, downturned thoughts, Krem basked in the attention, his face flush and faintly ecstatic. Thomas didn't approach things with the same boundless enthusiasm as Noah or bold knowledge as Hild, but he was thorough and consistent and unrelenting. It drove out the potential to think of anything else but Thomas, anything but their bodies close together and their hands moving clumsily, and every time their mouths pressed together.

He pressed his face into Thomas's neck, breathing raggedly, his thighs trembling. He hurried his hand a little, using his thumb to rub at the head of Thomas's cock a bit, trying to feel out what exactly felt good.

"Won't last," he whispered against Thomas's warm skin, laughing at his own breathlessness. "Maker, Thomas, that's good. Just like that. Almost..."

The encouraging words came at a good time because Thomas had been close to asking if he should have been doing something else, something different. He turned his head and press a shaking kiss against Krem's hair, a kiss that turned into a moan as Krem's hand moved against his cock. He shivered and his fingers stuttered, slipping along and stopping every so often when his own pleasure overtook him.

His wrist was going to be tired later and he hadn't worked his fingers quite like this before but he knew it'd be worth it. It'd be worth it to see Krem like this, falling apart and fraying at the seams right there in his bed. Thomas slowed his pace, trying to draw it out, trying to feel what it felt like when he drove his fingers into Krem's cunt and how that feeling, that heat just shot right to his dick and made him ache.

A whine, needy and tinged with begging and laughter, slipped out of Krem as Thomas slowed down. He bit his lower lip and squirmed, rocking his hips down to meet every deep penetration of Thomas's fingers. He kept his own hand moving at as steady a pace as he could manage, but his mind was unwinding rapidly.

Krem swore as he felt the tipping of it, the rushing warmth and the stuttering, clenching, overwhelming way his cunt squeezed around Thomas's fingers. He arched off of the bed, moaning breathlessly as his free hand gripped at Thomas's wrist and held his hand so he wouldn't pull back from having his fingers buried in his cunt.

Thomas didn't try and pull his fingers away and out. He kept them buried in Krem's cunt, as deep as he could and felt more than saw Krem finally come apart. It was amazing, beautiful, and completely unexpected. Thomas was a teenager and he'd imagined things like this happening but he never, not in a million years, thought he'd be this present when someone found their release.

He pressed quick kisses against Krem's hair, nuzzling against the crown of his head with his nose and cheek. His cock was still aching but he put that aside for now, focusing on feeling Krem and hearing him and, when he pried his eyes open, watching him.

Krem let his hand slow on Thomas's cock, for the moment, though he didn't take it away, as his body settled to shivers and tremors in the wake of his orgasm. He tilted his head, seeking out Thomas's soft mouth. A smile was spreading steadily over his mouth.

He tipped his kiss easily down Thomas's throat, heading toward his collarbone. His lips were gentle and soft and wet, parted with panting breaths. He drew Thomas in against him, until they were pressed close and flush together, Thomas's cock pressed into the bend where Krem's hip and thigh came together. He rocked his hips gently, just for a moment.

"That felt amazing," he whispered against Thomas's skin. He kept gently moving, a coaxing sort of motion, not trying to draw Thomas into him, but definitely trying to get him off, trying to show him that the touch of their skin together wasn't so frightening and strange.

Thomas sealed his mouth over Krem's, leaning into that kiss and pouring some of his pent up pleasure into it. He thought this is what he'd get now that Krem had gotten off but then there was shifting and moving and Thomas pulled away and bit his lip, trying to keep himself quiet.

His cock was trapped between warm, smooth skin. Warm, smooth skin that was moving and he was already incredibly sensitive. He jerked his hips forward, a sloppy, erratic movement that he tried to control but couldn't.

"I--I wanted it to feel good," he mumbled, proud of himself for even being able to form those words when all he wanted to do was rut against Krem's hip and thigh. "Shuck. Shuck, oh god."

Krem whined and sigh a little, incapable of staying quiet even if Thomas was going to try to. He might have gotten off, but he was still sensitive, and Thomas's body was close and warm and rubbing against his, his cock grinding into his hip and thigh, the neat crook there, a close metaphor for the invitation Krem had given. It was more than enough, more than Krem could have thought possible.

He clung to Thomas, kissing him again. It was sloppy now, disorganized, full of tongue and rapid breathing and a little bit of teeth. His fingers slipped into his hair and he held on, swallowing up Thomas's desperation.

"Yes," he whispered back, rolling and rutting back against him, careful to not let Thomas slip from that safe little crook of his hip, that private, intimate divot, slick with sweat and the dribble of Thomas's precome. "Yes, keep going Thomas, come on."

Another moan slipped out, smothered against Krem's lips. He clenched his eyes closed, trying not to be as quick as he had last time. He'd never come twice in less than twenty four hours, not even by his own hand, so he knew his sensitivity was high and that trying to hold off his orgasm wasn't going to work.

His fingers clawed at Krem's shoulder, trying to hold on, to give himself an anchor that maybe would keep him from coming for a few more seconds.

His hips bucked against Krem's, cock slipping against the sweaty, wet skin and he leaned up for another kiss before pulling off and gasping.

"I'm gonna -- " He was close, he could feel it. He could barely form words. "You don't have to keep -- "

He knew he was going to make another mess on Krem, on his bed and he tried to give at least some warning that Krem could pull away and save himself some stickiness.

Krem whimpered as Thomas clung to him but also tried to warn him off. His fingers were strong and firm in his shoulders, one hand slick, and Krem was flush with that knowledge, with a headiness that suffused his whole body.

He clung to Thomas as well, gripped at his back and shoulder until his nails dug in a little bit. They were breathing each other's air and everything felt dizzy and humid and superb.

"I want to," he murmured against Thomas's mouth. He kept moving his hips, shifting the leg that Thomas was not rutting against so he could keep Thomas from pulling away just yet. "I want to, I want this--I want you, Thomas--"

Thomas didn't have the strength to pull away. Krem's words seemed to encourage him to stay closer so he did. He was greedy enough, selfish enough to not want to end this with his own hand but he'd had to try to at least give Krem the option.

His hips thrust quicker, sloppy and not at all elegant. His breath came out in sharp puffs. Hips stuttering, Thomas gave a few more weak, shallow thrusts before he started to come.

He managed to smother the shout against Krem's chest even as he made another mess against Krem's hip, his bed and his own thighs. It left him panting and slack against Krem, attempting to get his head back on straight.

Krem moaned softly through the last few stuttering beats of Thomas's hips. The feel of his come on their bodies made Krem clutch his hand briefly at Thomas's hair, before he soothed gently at his scalp, scratching gently, sighing against his ear.

His body relaxed slowly, his breathing still ragged and sharp, frayed on the edges. He nuzzled gently at Thomas's ear and neck, a content noise slipping out of him. For the moment, it didn't matter what a mess they were; they could worry about it when they'd gotten their breath back under control.

He ran the hand not buried in Thomas's hair gently against his side, tracing the contour of his ribs, the swell and shift of them under his skin. He kissed his neck gently, stayed tucked there against his soft skin and breathed in the smell of him.

Even though Thomas was aware of the mess, he was trying not to dwell on it, not when he was warm all over, not when his skin buzzed and his muscles felt like they were absolutely turned to liquid. There wasn't any kind of relaxation that matched his and while he knew it wouldn't last, Thomas was very okay with staying like this for awhile.

"Are you all right?" Thomas mumbled, wetting his lips with his tongue. His throat felt dry but he could live with that for a little while. He didn't want to get up and go get some water. He just wanted to lay here and remember how this felt right now.