krempuff | Seeking some thrills, I been wanting one more

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Seeking some thrills, I been wanting one more

It was late when the Fight Club broke, or early, depending on how you looked at it. Krem was sore, aching, starting to get that shake in his limbs that spoke of the adrenaline finally leaking out of his systems. He took the collection of weaponry he'd taken out to the grounds back to his apartment, just so they were collected and safely stored. And then, too agitated to be alone, he walked.

His legs and lungs were aching. When he stopped, he was standing in front of the Bramford. He slid his hands over his gym slacks, realized he was wearing a pair that didn't have pockets and that he hadn't brought his phone anywhere with him. That was stupid of him.

It was late. He should, he knew, just go back home.

But then, aching, he was standing in front of Thomas's door. He knocked, hard enough that it would be able to be heard all the way back to the bedroom--he knew the acoustics of the inside of Thomas's apartment well by now--but almost hoping that Thomas would be asleep, and able to sleep through the noise of him coming by. If he didn't answer within a couple moments, Krem would go.

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"Yes, people like me," he said, sounding like he was trying not to laugh. Between the knuckle in his ribs and the kissing, his body was slowly getting overloaded on light, gentle sensations.

It wasn't a bad thing. Just a still unfamiliar experience. He'd come from a place where everything was hard, difficult, sharp, and bloody. This wasn't.

"You're strange too," Thomas said fondly. "Don't ask me why. You just are."

"I'm definitely strange," Krem agreed, giving a bit of a nod, not giving up on his little shower of kisses. He liked that warm, fond note in Thomas's voice, liked being the cause of it, liked his strangeness being a part of that in some way--not because he was strange, and not in spite of his strangeness, but simply because he was him and he happened to be strange.

Krem hummed a little and lifted his hands to Thomas's cheeks, smudging his thumbs against the arch of his cheekbones, then kissing him more decisively. Contentedly, he murmured through the kiss a meek, "I love you, Thomas."

It seemed important, to say it then and not just when they were in the midst of something overt and sexual. When things were tender and private, but not laden.

That was a strange thing too, those words. He didn't know if anyone had ever said them to him before. He liked to hope his parents had at one point and maybe he'd even had a friend who'd told him so but those memories were lost to him so, from what he knew, Krem was the first.

It made him shiver and he blushed, almost shy at the words being directed towards him. He didn't know if he'd done anything to deserve them and a part of him wanted to argue, to tell Krem that he couldn't love him but Thomas shut that part of himself down.

Thomas was never good with words and that hadn't changed so when Krem uttered those words, Thomas leaned forward and captured his lips with a gentle kiss, fond and lingering. He was better with actions.

Krem sighed, a smile curving his lips, as Thomas kissed him in return of the words. He didn't expect a response, he thought. Not really. It was complicated, and Thomas was young. Krem wouldn't ask that of him. But it was nice to be able to say the words and have any sort of response.

He slipped his fingers gently into Thomas's hair, deepening the kiss just a touch as he settled himself intently so their hips lined up against each other.

If Thomas hadn't been awake before, that shift and press would have definitely woken him all the way up. As it was, Thomas just pulled back from Krem's lip a touch and quirked an eyebrow playfully at him.

"What are you doing?" Thomas laughed, resisting the urge to roll his hips, push down, find some friction that would feel pleasurable.

The pull away from the kiss almost dragged a disapproving sound out of Krem, but he managed to hold it in. It would have come out more of a petulant whine, anyway. He smiled at Thomas's curious expression instead and, a bit playfully, continued to subtly shift about to see what sort of reaction he could pull out of him.

"Getting comfortable," he said, as perfectly innocent as he could possibly be.

"Getting comfortable," Thomas repeated, trying to hide the small squeak that wanted to slip out, to give away what all that shifting was doing to him. It was early anyway and he was a teenager so things happened that he was helpless against.

"You telling me you weren't comfortable before, shank?" Thomas asked, clearing his throat. "You seemed pretty comfortable last night when you fell asleep and snored."

Thomas didn't know if he'd actually done that but he figured Krem couldn't prove him wrong.

Krem laughed, short and happy, shifting and squirming now that Thomas's cheeks were a little flushed and he was trying not to squeak. He dug his knuckles into Thomas's ribs, gently, teasingly, and grinned at him.

"Oh, I was snoring, hm? Mister fell asleep as soon as he hit the pillow again."

He smoothed his hands down Thomas's sides, well aware of how their hips were lined up and the effects of close, warm bodies and early mornings. "Do you want me to stop?"

"If your memory's a little hazy, you woke me up in the middle of the night from a sound sleep. Was I supposed to stay up and cook you dinner?" Thomas asked, looking at Krem with mock annoyance.

"Next time when you wake me up that late, I'll be sure to be more entertaining," he joked with a shake of his head.

"Do you to stop?" Thomas asked, deciding to turn the question back on Krem, make him be the eloquent one because Thomas certainly wasn't.

"Dinner would have been very nice, actually," Krem said contemplatively, a little pout on his lips that Thomas hadn't been so considerate the night before when he'd arrived. He kept his hands soft and gentle on Thomas's ribs, able to feel the relaxation there to assure him that Thomas wasn't actually irritated with his having come and woken him so late.

The question was an important one, and Krem knew it. He didn't want to stop, and he could say that, but he didn't want Thomas to feel like he had to agree to something too.

Even if he was better at words than Thomas sometimes, they were both better at actions. He collected Thomas's hands and slipped them under the borrowed tshirt, against the warmth of his ribs, with no binder in the way.

"No," he murmured. He rolled his hips gently. "This is a good way to spend the morning, right?"

"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?"

Krem chuckled, smiling contentedly at Thomas's teasing. He was half right, after all: Krem knew where everything was and could throw himself something together from Thomas's meager groceries if he was really that hungry if he came over in the middle of the night.

Thomas's hands were warm and firm enough to be sure-seeming, which was a wonderful comparison to the first time they'd fallen to kissing and touch like this. Krem was feeling lazy enough to not push anything, either. He hummed and shook his head, bending back down to kiss Thomas again.

"Just don't squeeze too tight," he said against the kiss. "It all looks worse than it feels, I promise."

Thomas hummed against Krem's lips, an affirmative answer to that request. He wasn't assured enough to be that aggressive, that firm. There were some things he'd grown comfortable with but they were all common, routine.

He hadn't yet gotten to the point where experimentation was a thing. Maybe soon, though. He was always curious but that curiosity just tended to stay shut up inside his head.

Thomas settled a little more comfortably against Krem, content to just kiss for now. He stroked his fingers up and down, tracing random letters and shapes against Krem's skin. He wasn't in any kind of rush, just enjoying this sort of soft wake up call.

Krem didn't try to clarify the patterns that Thomas traced onto his skin. They were abstract, there for the touch and nothing more. But they lit heat and desire into him, and he sighed happily, kissing Thomas back.

Of all the things he disliked, at times, about his body, this was not one of them. Being able to hold his desire close and private, to hold it a bit secretly and just harbor it while things were slow and quiet like this, he didn't think he would trade that for anything else in the world. Even with all the slow changes his body was giving to him with the medication he was on now--and he knew the increase in libido was one of them--he still didn't have to worry about letting on so immediately, if he didn't want to.

He carded his fingers through Thomas's hair, then trailed them down his neck, his chest. Between the kisses and the idle way that Thomas was moving his hands, Krem's hips were threatening to move around again, but he kept it in check. For now.

Thomas made a quiet sound against Krem and his lips pulled into a smile. He eased off on the kisses but didn't pull away, instead making them softer and shorter just for a few seconds. It gave him a chance to focus elsewhere.

He felt himself shivering at the play of Krem's fingers against him, laughed when he stroked ticklish areas and sighed when those ticklish areas gave way to more sensitive spots.

He dropped his head down to the crook of Krem's neck and pressed a kiss or two there, nosing his way up to Krem's ear and nipping at his earlobe gently.

It was all so soft and slow, warm, a sort of glowing that Krem didn't think he would even get used to but in the best possible way. He hadn't done a whole lot of slowness in his fumbling and figuring out all these romantic entanglements. Now, in the growing light and diffusive, filling warmth, Krem thought he ought to do a bit more of that, if it was going to make him feel so pleasantly twisted up.

He sighed and leaned his head back as Thomas kissed his neck, tilting to make accommodations for Thomas's mouth so that he could have free access however he wanted. The gentle but sharp edge of his teeth pulled a little puff of a gasp out of Krem, followed quickly but soft laughter.

Krem snuck his fingers up under Thomas's shirt, smoothing his thumbs against his stomach before he crept his fingers slowly upward, rucking Thomas's shirt up along the way. As best he could, anyway, with Thomas laying on it.

For a few moments, Thomas didn't move despite the trails of heat that Krem's fingers were leaving behind. He stayed laying atop Krem, mapping out his neck and behind his ear with his lips. Eventually, he relented.

He pushed himself up, knees bracketing Krem's hips and asked, "You trying to get my shirt off? Or just trying to tease me, shank?"

"I might be trying to take your shirt off," Krem said, smile gentle and only a little cheeky. He looked at Thomas, at the way he rested over and against him; it was an effort not to arch toward him and the heat he'd moved away from Krem's.

It had been months now since they had wrestled in the surf and Thomas's body, in a very similar position, had scared him. Now, a thrilled heat sank into his belly.

"But I could also just be trying to tease." He pressed his fingers more firmly against Thomas's ribs and dragged them down, down his stomach, until he met his hips and could pull them back down until their hips were snug against each other again.

"You're very indecisive," Thomas mumbled, biting his lower lip when Krem slotted their hips together just so. A thrill slithered its way down his spine and he had to work to suppress a shiver. He was sure they'd come later but, for now, he still had some control over himself.

"You better decide what you're doing quick," Thomas murmured, leaning down to drop a quick kiss on Krem's lips, "or I might get bored and go back to sleep. I'd suggest you make a list of the good and bad of both choices. See which one works the best for you."

Krem smiled, arching up then and pressing a kiss more firmly against Thomas's mouth. It smothered out the end of Thomas's words, silly as they were--sleeping, pros and cons, all the rest of that; they both knew it was silly teasing.

Now, rather than teasing, he pushed Thomas's shirt up all the way. Compared with the still too-thin young man he'd been September, he was denser now, more solid and substantial. Thomas was never going to be a large man, but it was good that he seemed properly filled out now.

Krem pulled away from the kiss only long enough to pull Thomas's shirt over his head. He pulled off his own as well, while they weren't kissing, and pulled Thomas back in for more of that before he could get too good of a glance at the bruising across his chest.

Thomas thought about resisting. For a few seconds, he thought about making it hard on Krem, just to be a slinthead, just to see if he made some kind of adorable face or pinched him or something.

But, between that and the choice of losing his shirt, he chose the option that would leave him in just his skin. So, he let Krem wrangle the shirt off and he rested himself against Krem after he'd lost his own shirt, sliding right back into the kissing and the touching.

He didn't try and push it, make it deeper, not yet. He'd grown more confident over time but he still wasn't ready to go from zero to one hundred that quickly. He liked the softness and he liked the build up of tension and feeling and friction.

Once they were both shirtless, it was easy and even more warm to get back into kissing. Krem let out a soft sound of pleasure, perfectly content to settle into the bed and the feeling of Thomas's fingers skating idly on his skin.

Gently, he guided one of Thomas's hands to his breast, cupping the fingers gently but with no particular urgency. As with everything else, the heat and the weight were a pleasant rush, a desirous fuss under his skin and behind his ribs.

He curled his fingers against Thomas's lower ribs, over the slight bend in his waist, and let his thumbs rub in tight circles.

"Going to slow for you?" Thomas asked, sounding amused and playful. Initiative in things like this was still fairly new but he was working on it. Confidence would come in time, he supposed, and when he wasn't so worried about doing something wrong or making someone uncomfortable.

But, with someone else taking the lead, he could follow. He knew how to do that.

Thomas's fingers curled into Krem's breast gently, kneading and stroking like it was the first time he'd ever touched Krem. He watched his movements carefully, like he was studying the whole thing before he peered up at Krem and smiled.

"Not at all," Krem murmured, but he liked the playfulness in Thomas's voice, liked chasing after it with his lips. He knew that Thomas needed a little bit more coaxing in things, and might especially need it when Krem's whole torso was a mess of mottled red and blue bruises and the occasional scrape and cut on his ribs.

But Thomas's gentle hand, his continuous soft looks and his smiles, that did more for the last needed unravel, leaving Krem pleasantly reset from all the tensions of last night, the past weeks and month. At least for now.

He arched up, kissing Thomas's smile with his own lips curved into a content smile.

Thomas kept his hand on Krem's breast for a moment longer before his attention was drawn away. He found himself brushing his fingers over some of the bruises, tracing the edges gently and frowning at some of the angrier injuries. He'd been hurt before, he knew this was a fact of life but seeing it like this, seeing it when there wasn't any major battle that Thomas knew of was entirely different.

He still leaned into the kiss, still responded and didn't get himself too far up in his head but he was concerned and worried that anything he did, anyway he touched might cause pain.

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