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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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.

"Fantastic," Krem said, his voice rumbling and a little wrecked from moaning and panting. He'd heard himself speak more roughly, but there was still the thickness of pleasure obviously there.

He shifted only because he knew he'd set the water bottles he'd come in with before they'd begun somewhere near enough to reach. He'd known they'd want them. Even just kissing could be parching work, in his experience, and they'd done a lot more than that. When he found one, he settled back comfortably, and rolled the bottle against Thomas's side; it had warmed in the room, a little.

"Are you? Since that was the first..." Krem pushed Thomas's hair off his forehead. "It was a lot all at once."

The bottle wasn't cold but Thomas still shivered. Everything was going to make him shiver for awhile, he guessed. He rubbed at his eyes and a laugh slipped through, sound equal parts pleased and surprised.

"It was a lot but I'm fine," he said once his laughter had subsided. "That was a first a lot of things for me. I'm sure it can't get any worse than a first time."

Krem leveled Thomas with a slightly stern look, but his mouth was curved up and his eyes were bright and warm, despite their solemnity. He leaned in and kissed him. Between the kisses, he grumbled, "You'll improve, because you'll be less nervous. But that doesn't mean it was bad."

He dropped back into the pillow he'd had under his head and shoulders throughout, sprawling dramatically. His smile curved up wider.

"I mean. I'm nearly thirty, I'm just now figuring out what it is I like. These past months have been full of firsts. And I'm very happy that you were one of them, and that you let me be yours."

"It would be pretty nice to not be as nervous or insecure about things," Thomas mumbled, sighing and shutting his eyes. "I'll take your word for it."

When it came to other people, other people who cared about him, he wanted to be something other than cruel and hated. He didn't want to be someone that people saw in a dream and remembered with fear or hate. He wanted to be better.

"You're old," Thomas quipped, shifting away and wincing at the chill in the room and the stickiness on his legs. He could have done without all that.

"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.

"I don't care about that," Thomas said, coming back to himself quicker than usual. Maybe it was the tone of Krem's voice or the chill shocking him back into focus but he didn't end up too far in his head this time.

Shame replaced pleasure, shame at being so self absorbed and selfish and he winced, sitting up.

"I don't care how old you care, I don't care," he reiterated fiercely. "I just want you to...to like being with me. I know you're not expecting anything out of me. I still want to be good."

"Hey," Krem murmured, still soft and flushed with the discomfort of pointing out the difference in their age. He sat up as well, aware of his nudity and suddenly sheepish of it. Now, he couldn't be bothered to worry about it.

He smoothed his fingers across Thomas's shoulders, up to the nape of his neck, and leaned into him gently. "I like being with you, Thomas. I like being with you when we run into each other and just talk, or when we check in on each other, or when we go running. I liked this. I will definitely not turn down opportunities to do any and all of that, including this, again."

He searched Thomas's face a moment, rubbing the back of his neck with his thumbs and the top of his shoulders with his fingers. "We'll wash up, and come back to bed."

"All right," Thomas said, nodding at Krem's words. He believed Krem, believed everything even if a part of him, dark and shriveled part of him knew he didn't deserve that kind of thing. Sometimes, like right now, it was easy to ignore that part of himself.

Other times, it was all he could hear.

"Do you want to shower or would you rather me just a few towels?" Thomas asked, sliding carefully to the edge of the bed so he wouldn't make an even bigger mess than he'd already made.

Krem let Thomas pull away from him, gave him space for a moment. He wondered if it would be better to give him the maximum amount of space that he could without making it seem like he was running from this, if he should urge him into the shower and take a towel for himself.

Instead, he smiled softly. He slid off the bed--mostly stumbled, his legs still jellied from orgasm--and kicked his shorts off the rest of the way, and then took Thomas's hands.

"If we shower together," he said softly, "we'll save water."

Plus, then he would smell, however briefly, of Thomas's soap. It settled the nervous in his stomach, just a little.

"Okay," Thomas said quietly. He was nervous only because this would be another first: a first shower with someone else. It'd be total nakedness with someone else and while he absolutely didn't mind, he was still shy about it.

Thomas stood up and shucked his shirt off before finally getting his shorts down the rest of the way. They'd gotten tangled up around his knees when they'd been on the bed and he was glad to be free of them and blushing now that he was bare.

His body was mostly scar free but there were still marks from the Griever injections dotting his skin every so often. Remnants of the Changing from so long ago. "I'd like to shower with you."

Krem took Thomas's hand gently and headed into the bathroom. He made no comment on the disarray of it, the dirty clothes piled on the floor or the scattering of his toiletries. He just stepped into the shower, pulling Thomas along with him, and started it running with a soft, affectionate smile on his face.

Given the peace of it, the moment of solitude and bald curiosity, Krem traced Thomas's moles and freckles, the wiry definition of muscle in his arms and chest, the small smattering of scars that must have had stories but Krem wasn't sure which had stories that Thomas remembered. He compared everything against his own--the deeper olive tone of his skin and more pronounced scars, some of them newer than others.

He turned, putting his back to Thomas, letting the water run over his face and his hair and down his back. His tattoo, between his shoulder blades, was done healing, sitting colorfully between them, the crook and flail crossed over each other.

"Your tattoo looks good," Thomas said, reaching up and tracing one finger lightly over the design. The tattoo had been healing when he'd last seen it and he'd been too shy to really look closely.

Now though, he was close enough to see all the detail there and he leaned closer until his nose nearly touched Krem's skin to get a better look at it.

The water slicking down his body made his finger glide smoothly and eventually he stopped tracing the tattoo and let his fingers slide over Krem's shoulder and down along the hard ridge of his collar bone.

Krem smiled as Thomas traced the ink, pausing a moment in wetting his hair to focus instead on just letting the water slough his body clean without soap. He sighed softly as Thomas's fingers traced from the tattoo and over his shoulder across the fineness of his collarbone. He leaned back into him a little, tilting his head up.

"Thank you," he said. "It's healing quite nicely, I think. Maybe I'll get a few more, even. I've a lot of cracks to fill in. Might as well make it pretty."

"Any ideas on what other ones you want?" Thomas asked, keeping his hand on Krem's collarbone and closing his eyes. The water wasn't hitting him as much as it was Krem since Krem's body was acting as almost a shield but he didn't mind.

"I don't think I'd ever want any," he sighed, leaning his cheek against Krem's back, right over the tattoo. "I like them and I like your tattoo but I don't know if I'd ever find one I like enough to get put on my body."