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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"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.

Even while the kisses lingered, deep but not pressing or leading, Krem could feel the hesitation, the worry, implicit in the fact that it was only kisses and that Thomas's fingers roamed, gently and exploratory.

"You're getting lost," Krem murmured, not pulling back far enough that his lips didn't bump and brush against Thomas's lips. He lifted his fingers to the back of Thomas's neck, rubbed his thumbs behind his ears. His lips were still tilted up gently.

"Will you feel better if you can't see it? I'll still be just as bruised. Herus, I promise: you won't hurt me."

"I'm not getting lost, I'm just concerned," Thomas said with a gentle shake of his head. He blinked down at the map of bruises and bumps before he sighed and shook his head. "You'd be doing the exact same thing if our positions were reversed."

He didn't doubt that for a second. Krem might have been better at covering up his hesitation and worry but Thomas knew he wouldn't be able to completely ignore the battered state of his body.

"I won't hurt you because you're already hurting," Thomas mumbled, leaning in for another kiss. "Semantics. I know that word now."

"That's a gold-piece word right there," Krem said with a laugh filtering through his smile. He lazed there in the bed a moment and stretched his arms up above his head, an expansive gesture that showed his mobility and comfort and the gentle perk of his nipples.

"I'm a bit sore," he admitted, tucking his fingers under the pillows under his head. There was no shame in him, in the way that Thomas looked at his body and his skin. "And I would worry. But I'd also listen if you told me you were alright--within reason."

The kiss lingered, and he hummed softly, rolling his hips up just a little, a coaxing gesture. He was fine. Breathing on the other side of everything, and more alive for all of it. More alive for being here.

Thomas ducked his head down and pressed a kiss against the few bruises that he could reach. Gentle, lingering kisses against the scattered bruises and scrapes that he could find. When he was bold enough, he flicked his tongue out, licked the blemished skin and hummed quietly.

The humming turned into a squeak, a muffled groan against Krem's skin when Krem rolled his hips. It was kind of impossible to keep himself under control with that happening when he was already half aroused.

The skate of Thomas's mouth across the edge of bruises fluttered a sigh out of Krem. He arched and squirmed, his breath hitching slowly higher with each tracking press of lips, each emboldened slide of tongue, each lingering breath on his skin.

He kept his hands tucked under his head, arms flexed gently, as he felt the way their hips slotted together. He bit his lip slightly, trying to keep his breathing somewhere close to normal, trying not to rush or hurry. They had all day, as much time as they wanted. They had no direction.

But his body ached. Not pain, not the lingering abuse of the night before, but a deep, hot pull toward Thomas's body on top of his. His body thrummed with needing something, anything, all of it.

Krem sighed and lifted a hand out from under his head, carding his fingers through Thomas's hair.

Maybe some day Thomas wouldn't be as slow as he was right now. Maybe some day he'd be able to jump right into things without asking questions or warming up or letting himself get comfortable with the situation at hand.

When he was running, Thomas was fast. Faster than most. Right now, Thomas liked being slow. He liked sliding his tongue along angles of Krem's skin and he liked tasting Krem's skin. If he was aware what that was doing to Krem, he didn't let on.

Thomas lifted his head and smirked at Krem, maybe giving away the fact that he knew what he was doing and he was doing it on purpose.

Krem wasn't feeling in any great hurry. Even if his body was slowly heating up, slowly turning over with every wonderful possibility of how the morning could unravel around them, it was a slow sort of unraveling. It involved exploration and these gentle kisses until they both couldn't stand it and then, maybe, more than that. All their fumbling over each other so far had been a bit hurried; all of Krem's in general had been a bit rushed, a bit over the top. It was nice to just enjoy the feeling of everything.

So he left his fingers wound in Thomas's hair. They were gentle, just another point of contact. No pushing or pulling, no urging him anywhere on his body. Thomas's pace was his own, and it was a wonderfully maddening one.

When Krem glanced down, on chance more than anything else, he caught that mischievous glance and smirk that Thomas was giving him. It knocked a soft groan out of him. He arched slightly off the bed, but still didn't urge or rush Thomas on. His head lulled back into the pillow as he let out a soft, breathless laugh.

"I'd accuse you of teasing," he murmured, "but that implies I don't like it."

"It would be a false accusation anyway," Thomas mumbled, nosing his way along Krem's ribs and hiding a smile near his hip. He sighed, blowing warm air across Krem's skin and pressed a kiss to the indent of his hip.

"I'm not teasing you," he added after a moment of quiet, a moment of working his mouth and lips against the curves and hard angles of Krem's body. "I'm exploring. There's a difference."

It wasn't a difference that Thomas was going to explain right now, though. He knew he could probably pull out a few dumb shucking reasons that it wasn't teasing but only if prompted, only if needed.

Thomas was deliciously, deliriously close to places decidedly unbruised, but Krem didn't rush. He didn't point out that, as his body curved toward the infinitesimal softness of his stomach and the muscles of his thighs, the bruises disappeared. After all, as Thomas said, he was exploring.

He didn't ask what the exact different, in this case, would be between teasing and exploring. As he'd said, teasing would imply that he wasn't entirely pleased with the results of what Thomas's mouth and hands were doing to him. And he certainly wasn't going to object to exploration.

So instead, he softly asked, "Is there anything else you'd like to explore?"

Thomas wasn't really practiced in the art of pillow talk. He rarely picked up on innuendos and dirty talk was something that he'd probably never be good at but, despite all that, he had an inkling as to what Krem wanted him to say.

And Thomas was a sarcastic smartass sometimes so he couldn't give Krem what he wanted. Not with words, at least. He didn't answer right away, letting his hips trail from hip to stomach, around Krem's navel and sliding down where the waistband of Krem's clothing rested.

He stopped there, peered up at Krem and said, "I'd love to explore the ocean sometime. It's so big. Probably lots going on out there."

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