krempuff | (no subject)

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

Thomas made a quiet noise of protest at being moved but didn't fight against it. He turned his face up to the spray and pushed his hair of his face when the water pushed it down and closer to his eyes.

"I think it'd make me too visible if I ever were to get back home," he said thoughtfully. "I'm not trying to go back, I know I can't, but if I ever do, it's something that Cranks and WICKED and anyone could identify me by and we need to stay hidden as much as we can."

Krem hummed vaguely, thinking of the brands some Altus houses put on slaves to keep them in line, to make them more easily found if they ran away from home. He shivered a little at the thought, tucking himself against Thomas's back, forehead against the nape of his neck, the little mark Thomas had there.

"I understand that," Krem said with a little nod. He kept running his fingers over Thomas's skin, fleeting touches on his narrow, firm stomach. "I spent most of my life trying to be as unremarkable as possible."

Thomas closed his eyes and let the spray hit him in the face and sluice down his shoulders and body. He sighed, feeling warm and comfortable with the warm water and Krem's warm skin pressed against him.

"I don't know what I was like before everything," he murmured even if Krem knew that. "Maybe I was all about tattoos and just wasn't old enough to get them. People already know my face back home. WICKED, Gladers, everyone. I like being here and people not recognizing me. I like being in the background."

Krem wanted to say something about that, the being in the background, because suddenly all he could think about was the picture on Derek's phone of the young man with Thomas's face who had been Derek's boyfriend. How many people in Darrow had known that other young man, and saw him when they saw Thomas? How unremarkable could anyone be when they shared a face with someone else?

He wasn't petty enough to bring it up. It didn't matter. Gently, he laid a kiss against against the arch of Thomas's shoulder blade, tracing the shape of it under his skin.

"Well, you've all your little moles and freckles," Krem said softly. "And I'm quite a fan of those. So no need for tattoos."

"I do have a lot of those," Thomas agreed, glancing back over his shoulder at Krem and smiling. He'd never paid that much attention to them but now, when all he was aware of was being naked, he could see the moles and freckles dotting his shoulder, chest, arms and legs.

He knew there were more on his back but he couldn't see those. He just sighed and leaned back against Krem, deciding to take advantage of his closeness. "Are you clean? Do you wanna get out or should we stay here?"

Krem hummed softly in agreement, nodding a bit but mostly nuzzling at Thomas's skin. All of Thomas was warm and slick with water, different than when they'd wrestled in the surf but no less good for it. Krem found himself sighing contentedly, not wanting to pull away if he could help it.

"I washed off with the water," Krem said with a mild little shrug. It was sort of like being clean. He was rewarmed and content, whether or not he'd taken soap to his skin. The final decision on if the shower was over or not was up to Thomas, then.

"That didn't answer my question," Thomas said which he guessed had been the point. He braced a hand against the shower wall and bowed his head, letting the water slide down his back and to the floor of the shower.

"We should probably get out before I use all the hot water and fall asleep in here," he mumbled. He was comfortable and pleasantly drained after all the activities earlier.

"Mmn, it's true," Krem said softly. They could always have another shower some other time. Krem was rather a fan of showers, the same way he was a fan of microwaves and refrigerators and electric lights--modern conveniences were just that: convenient.

"We'll get out, and we can have a bit of a nap," he said, running his nails gently across Thomas's skin before he came around him gently to turn off the water. "Then see how we feel after that?"

He straightened back up gently and looped his arms around Thomas, dripping wet, to kiss him sweetly even with the shower off.

"Okay," Thomas mumbled against Krem's lips, nodding slightly. Amazingly, his insecurities and doubts had fled and while that could have been because kissing was something he was confident about, he was glad nonetheless.

"I'm really tired," he admitted with a laugh and a shake of his head. He didn't know if it was the two orgasms or the mental exhaustion he put himself through but he was too tired to really figure it out.

"You're staying," he said. Krem had already spoken like he was staying but Thomas wanted it reiterated.

Krem slid out of the shower, scanning about for towels. He was not above just air drying, but he didn't want to get Thomas's sheets wet.

"We'll tuck into bed," he said, voice almost lyrical and coaxing, pulling Thomas gently out of the shower with him. He finally located a towel--gave it a sniff to make sure it was clean; clean enough--and started to rub Thomas dry. "Curl up however we want. Sleep as much as we want. In the morning, we'll have more Chinese food for breakfast."

He kissed Thomas again, smiling, just because he could, toweling himself off a little as well. Maybe they would kiss more at some point in there. Maybe they would do more of anything. Right now, sleeping sounded glorious to him as well.