krempuff | [for Adaline; April]

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[for Adaline; April]

Krem made sure that he had enough time to get home and shower before Adaline would be coming over. He didn't know, really, if she would be baking bread at his place as well, but he wanted to at least have enough time for that. It was a day he had off work, but he'd been at the gym anyway, which meant he'd gone harder than necessary, which meant he needed the shower even more than ever if he was going to have her over.

He was probably acting a damn fool about this. But it was worth making a good second impression. Just in case the first impression was just the wine talking.

Of course, since the lemon cake was a process, it still left him idling as he waited for Adaline to show up. He double checked that he'd texted her the proper building and apartment number, that he hadn't come across rudely. He tidied a little. He took off the cat's collar, just so she wouldn't spook Adaline--after all, there was no reason to assume Adaline would be able to see a ghost cat, like Krem could, so a floating collar would be awful strange. And then, he simply waited between steps of making the cake, as patiently as he possibly could, trying not to be nervous the whole time.

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"I really could get used to this you know," says Adaline, taking another sip of her wine and making herself slightly more comfortable on Krem's couch. "You should be careful of spoiling me."

"I suppose if I have such a pretty house guest, it can't be all bad," Krem said, taking the cake out of the oven and setting it to cool off sides. He checked on the lamb and turned the heat down a little.

"How hungry are you, really? The lamb still has a bit and the cake will take a while to cool." He laughed softly. "I can order in, if you'd rather. My timing is all off tonight, I'm sorry."

"Oh well," says Adaline. "It's early yet. I'm sure we could fill the time."

There is, she finds, the smallest shiver of nerves. What if the other night, lovely as it was, was the direct side effect of a bottle of wine each?

He smiled and came back over to the couch, sitting down once more. He sat just a little bit closer this time than he had before. Not quite so their knees touched, but very nearly. It was nice, and he enjoyed the prospect that they might, that they were very nearly, touching.

"Is it a good wine, do you think? I've never been very good at telling."

Adaline takes another sip, thoughtful, aware of the space between their bodies. The possibility of promise.

"Not the best I've ever had," she says. "But definitely not the worst."

"Oh, I've definitely had worse," Krem agreed with a laugh. He hummed, vague and soft, thinking of how to steer the conversation, what was a safe topic of conversation for either one of them--he could talk more about home, about being a mercenary, that sort of thing. But he didn't want to bore her with that sort of thing.

He found himself fidgeting with his lip ring, just a bit, between sips of wine.

After a few moments silence, Adaline turns towards him, tucking one knee up so that her shin is pressed against his thigh.

"Tell me something about you that you don't tell other people," she says. "I'll do you a trade."

Krem thought, face soft and quiet, a long moment. After a while he stretched his legs out a bit. His toes brushed her leg, on the opposite side of him, and he smiled a little bit.

"I don't keep a lot of secrets," he said with a little shrug. "I'll keep things, sometimes, until the right time to tell them. But I don't like to hold onto things entirely. It's hurt too many people--especially me."

But he smiled softly. "But that's alright if that means you don't want to tell me something."

Adaline can understand that. She studies his profile for a moment, reaches out and idly trails her fingers against his arm.

"No, no," she says, shaking her head. "Adaline is my real name but you were the first person I told in a long, long time. That first time we met."

A thrill of heat went up his arm, just from the pressure of her fingers and Krem found himself smiling, a little honored--or something else, he wasn't quite sure what--that he had been given that bit of her first, if only by happenstance if nothing else.

"It's a lovely name, Adaline," he said softly. He looked up at the ceiling, quiet for a moment. "Oh, I suppose I do have one secret. I've only told one other person. My dead name."

It's not a term that Adaline's ever heard but, from context, she can figure it out. Her eyebrows draw together slightly and she squeezes his arm gently.

"If that's one of those things you want to wait on, you don't have to tell me," she says, smiling softly. "I'll give you my secret for free."

"No, it--it's just a bad name, I think." Krem shrugged. "The last time I told anyone about it, we were arguing about whether or not it was important to know or use the name your parents gave you, rather than one that you had given importance to. He...his is a strange sort of circumstance. But mine, I stripped my name off and rebuilt myself entirely. So the name doesn't mean a thing to me anymore."

He sipped his wine, and laughed softly. "Leocadia. What a clumsy name. Cremisius is much nicer, I think, and Krem makes a very nice nickname."

"Oh. And I always thought that Adaline was a mouthful." Adaline raises both eyebrows studying him for a moment and taking another sip of her wine. "I agree. Krem is much, much better."

Krem laughed, bright and cheerful, as the easy way she took that and simply moved on with it. It was now something she had of his, as he had of hers.

He looked down then, smiling at her, admiring her profile for a moment. Slowly, he set his glass of wine aside.

"I would very much like to kiss you right now," he said, softly, lips still curled into a bit of a smile. "If that would be alright with you, Adaline."

A little curl of warmth settles in the pit of her belly, answering the warmth in his voice when he says that. She takes another swallow of her wine and then leans forward to set the glass down.

"I thought you'd never ask."

It was easy, then, a sort of tension releasing now that he'd touched on the subject so candidly, to move into her space. She was still tucked into the corner, and it was easy to kneel over her a bit, to bracket her into the corner and cup her cheek, to lean into her slowly and press his lips against hers gently.

It's a good kiss, him leaning down. She grazes one hand up his bicep, feeling the strength of him through the thin cotton of his shirt. She leans forward a little, pushing into the kiss, seeing no reason to pretend not to be eager.

Her touch, her gentle eagerness, only encouraged him. He smiled into the kiss a little, glad that he'd turned down the food so it would take a little longer to cook, if it meant he got to kiss her like this, even for just a little while.

Leaving his hand on her cheek, he shifted the other to her ribs, giving her a bit of a squeezing, before he inched his fingers slowly up her side.

The first time they'd done this, they'd been feeling each other out but, now, there's less of that - less of that uncertainty. His hand grazes up her side and Adaline arches a little, pushing towards her touch, making a soft sound into his mouth.

At her soft noise, he was only further encouraged. His hand slid up, cupping the side of her breast through the layers of her clothing and squeezing her deftly, a bit rough, as she had liked the other night they'd been together. He purred into the kiss, smudging his thumb as her breast until, even through the thickness of her dress, he could start to feel her nipple reacting to his touch.

"Do I get to leave you another mark tonight?"

Adaline bites her lip as he teases her nipple through her dress, as he squeezes her breast. Her cheeks flush and she slides her hand over his, encouraging.

"You can do whatever you want to me tonight," she promises.

"And if I just want to give you that mark and then have an utterly pleasant dinner, and some cake?" He grinned, cheeky, as he kept up the aggressive fondling she seemed to so enjoy. It all made him feel so bold, so reckless. He rather liked it.

And he, most assuredly, didn't want to just have dinner and cake.

Adaline laughs against his mouth, feeling flustered and bold. She raises one eyebrow and purses her lips.

"Well, I suppose that would be your prerogative."

"If would just be such a terrible waste of a good joint of lamb," he murmured speculatively, his hand skating back down her body, now to her hip. With her folded up so neatly, her skirts were a curtain of layers. For now, he kept his hand on her hip, rubbing and squeezing gently, as he kissed down her neck slowly.

"It won't keep?" Asks Adaline, pouting a little, tipping her head back to give him more room, pushing her fingers into his hair to cradle the back of his head.

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