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dancing in the dark in the pale moonlight [for Thomas]
The heat during the day was getting back up to a place that Krem remembered, that he had grown up in for nineteen years and that he was built for. The past nine years of his life had not erased his need and enjoyment of warm, lazy summer days and refreshing, cooler evenings.
Coordinating schedules with Thomas was, as always, a balancing act. But they managed. Even when they didn't get to see each other for a few days here or there, they sent each other texts, information about nothing at all, just their days so far. Krem texted him, especially, after he'd gotten all of his tattoos done weeks back; the black ink scattered on his skin was still healing, but it was getting close enough to that mark of readiness that Krem felt safe in venturing outside of his regular daily routine.
Today, Darrow had been hot. Krem had worked both jobs and gotten out of Bardolf's later in the evening, around the same time that Thomas normally got off work at Semele's. The evening was still balmy, almost exhaustive, but the ocean called to Krem. The pleasant memory of going out there with Thomas last summer, practicing swimming in private. Tonight, under a nearly full moon, seemed like a wonderful way to repeat the whole venture and put his mind outside of everything else that had been going on recently.
He texted Thomas as he was already on his way down to the boardwalk, contemplating if it would be better to go toward the lagoon that they'd gone to last year, or just swim out in the open. The beach would be nearly empty, since it was night and there didn't appear to be any parties or festivals going on (surprisingly). He decided to let Thomas decide, saying he would see him on the beach.
Coordinating schedules with Thomas was, as always, a balancing act. But they managed. Even when they didn't get to see each other for a few days here or there, they sent each other texts, information about nothing at all, just their days so far. Krem texted him, especially, after he'd gotten all of his tattoos done weeks back; the black ink scattered on his skin was still healing, but it was getting close enough to that mark of readiness that Krem felt safe in venturing outside of his regular daily routine.
Today, Darrow had been hot. Krem had worked both jobs and gotten out of Bardolf's later in the evening, around the same time that Thomas normally got off work at Semele's. The evening was still balmy, almost exhaustive, but the ocean called to Krem. The pleasant memory of going out there with Thomas last summer, practicing swimming in private. Tonight, under a nearly full moon, seemed like a wonderful way to repeat the whole venture and put his mind outside of everything else that had been going on recently.
He texted Thomas as he was already on his way down to the boardwalk, contemplating if it would be better to go toward the lagoon that they'd gone to last year, or just swim out in the open. The beach would be nearly empty, since it was night and there didn't appear to be any parties or festivals going on (surprisingly). He decided to let Thomas decide, saying he would see him on the beach.
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"Did something make you want to get them all at once?" Thomas asked, reaching for his wrist and sliding a finger along the words. "You had to be an overachiever and do them all at once and not in trips?"
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"Mostly that, yes," Krem laughed. "I couldn't decide which was the most important to get first, because they all were? So...all at once."
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Thomas waded a little further into the water, letting the cuffed ends of his pants dip underneath the water. The chilliness wasn't so sharp anymore. It was actually comfortable.
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"I don't know yet," he said honestly. "I've been thinking of most of these for months. Some of them are newer ideas than others. But most of them--at least since I got my crook and flail in November."
Krem smiled as he watched Thomas move about in the surf. He stood and crossed over to him, curling his arms around his waist.
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"They're nice," he said after a moment of exploration and examination. "Better than some of the other tattoos I've seen before. I like them. I doubt I'll ever get any but they look good on you."
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"I wouldn't expect you to do anything that you didn't think suited you," he agreed softly. "But I've found I like them, and--people leave marks. So I got marks that reminded me of people."
He smiled softly, lifting his left foot from the water, so the winged sandal rising up from his ankle and onto his calve was visible in the moonlight. "This one is you."
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"That's..." He shook himself, trying to form words. He wasn't that bad a talker but he, apparently, was trying to change that right now. "When did you get that?"
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Krem was suddenly aware of how that might sound or look, still a bit raw from shifts with Adaline and Gannicus. So he smiled a little. "I would have gotten it even if we weren't--you mean a lot to me, Thomas. One of my beat friends here."
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"You're ridiculous, shank," he said, sounding fond. "I don't even know what to say."
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Krem smiled, though, because it was not a rejection or an upset at the ink. He headed back up onto the sand and, out of the water, stripped off his shorts and sports bra. The spot they were at was hidden by the rocks they'd had to climb over, and Krem did want to swim, even if the water was cold.
He braced himself as he went back to the water, pausing at his knees briefly, and at his waist longer, before he dipped quickly under the water. When he resurfaced, he let out a shuddering breath. "Oh. Well. Not that I was tired, but I'm certainly not now."
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Instead, he waded a little deeper into the water, letting his jeans get wet and cling to his legs. He cupped his hands under the water and brought them up, splashing the cool water on his face.
"You're not going to get some cold sickness, right? What's it called? Frostbite or something?"
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Instead, he watched Thomas's slow progression in the water. In their little harbor, there were no breakers. Just gentle little rolling waves that were easy to bob up and down on. Krem laid back in the water, sighing at the combination of cool water and night breeze and warmth that lingered.
"I doubt it," Krem said. "But I'd definitely make you take care of me if my toes turned blue."
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It as a playful lie, something he hoped Krem would understand as being a fib because, if Krem did get sick, Thomas would do his level best to help out.
"Besides, I'm no med-jack. I wouldn't know what to do to help."
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"Good thing I know all about warming up in the cold." This came out soft and sweet and wholly innocent, though the look on his face was far from it. "But I suppose I'd just have to warm myself up."
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He looked back at Krem and what he thought was innuendo. Thomas smirked and said, "You'd have to have a lot of blankets. That'd help, I bet. Blankets and coffee. See, I did help."
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"So many blankets and coffee," Krem agreed. "And a warm bath. Possibly lounging in the sunlight like a cat."
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If it got too hot, he sometimes thought he was back home in the first stages of the sun about to explode and burn the entire world.
"I don't think I'm that warm," he decided. "No warmer than someone else my age."
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It occurred to Krem, briefly, that Thomas had spent quite a lot of time around other boys his age and probably knew all about how warm they were just by proximity of bodies that happened in those situations. Krem, meanwhile, hadn't been around a teenager since he was one, except for Noah and Thomas.
Krem swam a little closer to Thomas, smiling at him. "I like the warm."
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"Reminds me of the Scorch," he confessed with a shrug. "Not as bad but sometimes it's hard to differentiate when it's flat and dry and hot. I prefer the cold. I prefer snow and air conditioning."
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"Oh, air conditioning is one of my favorite modern things," Krem said with a laugh. "Even I can get a little overwhelmed by the heat sometime, and I grew up in weather warmer even than this. But the snow? No, no, much too cold for me. But that's when having someone near is very nice."
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"I don't think I'll ever not like the snow," he said, sounding wistful. "So different than the Scorch, you know. It's nice to know that seasons exist. That not everything's hot and dry."
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He hummed a little, trying to imagine that if he'd grown up in some place like Nevarra or near the Hissing Wastes, if his distaste for the heat and appreciation for snow would be different.
"I think it comes down to the fact that there are seasons, though," Krem said with a smile. "If it was just cold and snowy all the time, eventually you'd get tired of that too."
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Thomas certainly didn't mind that because it was nice to just be able to curl up with him when he could but it hadn't been his fault. He'd definitely take advantage though.
"Okay, you're right on that one," he admitted with a nod. "I think I could deal with snow and cold for a really long time before I got tired of it though. The sun was that bad back home."
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"Well, it's a good thing that the seasons don't get too awful in either direction here," Krem said with a smile. He waded all the way back up to Thomas and, despite being soaking and naked, curled his arms around his waist comfortably. "Warm in the summer, it snowed last winter and I bet it will again this next one too. Now, you get to enjoy all of it."
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"Hard to believe that it's going to be winter soon again," he said, trying not to get too bogged down in his own memories, few as they were. "I guess I should start feeling old, right? Talking about my future and stuff. I've seen that on television."
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