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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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."

Krem was quiet a moment, momentarily baffled by the response. Then he gave Thomas's hair a short tug and dissolved into effusive, joyful laughter. The tug was for the smartass comment but, if he was realistic--and Krem tried, for the most part, to remain as realistic as he always could--so was the laughter. He supposed it was what he got for the question.

"I have a friend here in Darrow," he said through his laughter, "who came from a city under the ocean. She said it was beautiful. If you're really so interested in what the ocean's like, I'm sure she could tell you."

Krem peered down at Thomas and smiled. He soothed his fingers against his scalp, back behind his ear, along the slope of his jaw. He sighed, admiring the shape of his face.

"Come up here a moment? I'd like to kiss you." Even the last was said a bit as a question.

Thomas was pretty damn pleased by his remark, if he was honest. He didn't know if it was the right time or place and Krem's lack of reaction momentarily worried him but then Krem pulled on his hair and laughed and Thomas relaxed.

Before Krem even finished asking his question, Thomas was already moving up his body, resting his weight on the hands he braced near Krem's shoulders. He smiled down at him, smugness dancing in his eyes.

"Maybe I want to see the ocean for myself," Thomas murmured, amused. "Talking and doing are two very different things, you know."

Krem hummed, smiling up at Thomas as he hovered over him. He still had the hand in his hair, could drag him down for a kiss if he wished. But he was having too much fun watching all that happiness floating off him in deep, effusive waves, the way the smile crinkled the corners of his eyes a little and dimpled the spot right next to his lips.

Rather than dragging him down, Krem leaned up to kiss him. It was soft and adoring, full of his own smile. It was lovely to see Thomas smile like that, to be a part of it.

"Very different," he agreed. "But both very good. If you decide to adventure the ocean, let me know, will you? I'd like to hear what it's like."

It was a very silly conversation, in the midst of everything. That was alright. Somehow, it didn't feel the slightest bit out of place, either. Krem kissed Thomas again, on the lips, and then on his jaw, his throat. He turned his head and kissed the swell of his bicep, slim as it was, and then the divot of the crux of his arm.

For a moment, he thought he could kiss every inch of him, and never really get enough of it. He smiled against Thomas's skin.

"If I adventure the ocean, it won't be anytime soon," Thomas murmured, closing his eyes and sighing. Each spot where Krem kissed him warmed, grew hotter, made him hum lightly. He didn't even realize he was doing it and, even if he did, he wouldn't have tried to suppress it. There wasn't any reason to keep himself in control right now.

Opening his eyes again, Thomas looked down at Krem, lazy smile on his lips. He reached up and brushed his fingers through Krem's hair, back and forth, sending it askew and looking pleased at his handiwork.

"What do you want?" he asked lowly. "What would you like to do right here and now?"

Krem thought, in the wake of Thomas's question, of what he would like. Not what he wanted--those were not, always or necessarily, the same thing--but what he would like. Now, from him, in the next minutes or hours. He didn't let the thought stretch further than that. Here and now. It was a slightly freeing way to think.

He smiled, bit his lip at the same time. Arched his hips up a little, a silently imploring gesture. He felt hot between his thighs, but he didn't know if the heat registered through fabric separating their bodies. Words, Cremisius, use your words.

"I would very much like to be naked with you, right here and now," he murmured, soft and lazy. That seemed more important than anything else. "I would like to keep kissing, and I would like for us both to be naked. If that's alright with you."

Thomas's breath hitched when he felt the press and roll of Krem's hips. His pants were thin, loose, and comfortable and Thomas was very grateful for that right now. He'd gotten half hard during all this but hadn't pressed for more, content to go about it slowly.

With Krem's words, he thought that might change.

"It's all right with me," he said with a slow nod. He licked his lips. "I've gotten pretty decent at kissing. And I can probably get my shucking clothes off without messing anything up so your -- your plan sounds like a good one."

"More than decent," Krem assured with a smile. He slipped his hands through Thomas's hair, like Thomas had through his a moment before, and tussled it gently. Then, down and down and down.

When he reached Thomas's hips, he pulled his fingers off Thomas's body and hooked his thumbs in his own shorts. The way Thomas was over him, he was tucked between his legs, and so he was perfectly capable of stripping off his shorts while still lying underneath Thomas.

It left him nude. Not naked. That implied some shame, some nerves, and in this moment, Krem felt none of that. He skipped his fingers up the outsides of Thomas's thighs to his hips.

"You're not hiding some broken bone or missing limb under your shorts, are you?" Thomas asked, glancing down like he might see some new injury that required medical attention. It wasn't a serious look and those weren't serious words.

"I wouldn't put that past you," he murmured, dropping a quick kiss on Krem's nose before moving one of his legs to slide up and around one of Krem's. The touch of skin, bare and warm, made him shiver and he pushed himself up to his knees so he could get his own shorts off.

"Gosh, I hope not," Krem said with a little hum, squirming this way and that so Thomas could get a good look. Really, the worst of the bruising was on his torso; he hardly had any on his legs at all, and most of them were glancing ones on his thighs, down near his knees, from being tripped.

The sweet gesture of Thomas's kiss made Krem smile. "I promise, I didn't even bleed in your bed. I was very well behaved."

Now? Less well behaved. That was alright. He bit his lip a little bit as Thomas stripped off his shorts as well.

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