Krem was quiet a moment as Thomas's agreeability washed over him, and then, a moment after, a dark, heavy flush came over him, rushing up the back of his neck and then overtaking his face. He covered his face with his hands and laughed, embarrassed, and flopped back on the bed.

It hadn't even occurred to him that, perhaps, he might miss the mark phrasing something like that. He laid there, covering his face, and thought he might just melt from the heat on his cheeks.

"Pornography," he mumbled into his palms. "I meant pornography."