"The next time you show up in the middle of the night, you can get your own shucking dinner," Thomas told him, shaking his head. "You've been here enough times to know where everything is and I don't like you enough to cook you dinner in the middle of the night."

He was teasing, feeling playful because he did like Krem a lot and he probably would have made him dinner if he hadn't been half out of it and could cook anything decent. Sandwiches were about the extent of his culinary skills.

Thomas spread his hands out against Krem, letting his fingers trail over his ribs and down to his hips before moving back up.

"It's pretty good," he agreed with a sigh. "I'm not hurting you, am I?"