krempuff | dancing in the dark in the pale moonlight [for Thomas]

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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.

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"I'm pretty sure I'm at least seventeen by now," Thomas said, trying to sound reassuring. From what he knew about how the human body developed and what happened when (the internet was a plethora of knowledge), Thomas knew he wasn't all that young. It had just been impossible not to tease.

Thomas sighed and kept to himself that he really did feel guilty about considering a future when he didn't know what was happening with his friends. If he stayed in Darrow, he knew he'd be relatively safe and that was one thing his friends back home didn't have the luxury to feel. "The future will get here when it gets here. I'll figure my klunk out when that happens."

"You're just going to say you're seventeen into perpetuity, just out of the spite of not knowing when your birthday is. And I'll start getting gray hairs. Is that what you want?" Krem said it with such a lot of tease and amusement in his voice, that it was clear he wasn't serious.

"If I can help you figure things out," he said. The water moved around them, around their legs, and Krem smiled at Thomas gently. "Or if you just need to lay down and not think, I'm happy to help with that too."

"Have you started getting gray hairs?" Thomas asked, reaching up to start sliding his fingers through Krem's hair gently, pretending like he was actually looking for different colored strands of hair.

"I don't think I want to figure anything out tonight," he said, scratching his fingers along the back of Krem's head, light and gentle. "If there's one thing I have a lot of here, it's time. So, I'll figure that klunk out later. Not thinking is really preferable for tonight."

"I might," Krem said with a laugh. He was going to be twenty-nine soon. Darrow was less stressful than Thedas, but he'd lived a life of stress and he would not be surprised if he had bits and flecks of silver.

Thomas's fingers were gentle and warm and soothing. Krem closed his eyes and sighed, smiling softly. "Plenty of time," Krem said with a little nod. "We can just enjoy the night tonight. That sounds really good."

"You'd look pretty good with grey hair," Thomas assured him, rubbing his fingers back and forth through the hair on the sides of Krem's hair and then tracing each digit around his ears.

"Too dark to really go looking for grey hair tonight," he said with a snicker. "Maybe tomorrow morning or something. Another thing not to worry about tonight. My future, your future, my age, your age, and your grey hair."

Krem groaned softly at the very idea of having to suffer the indignity of having Thomas look for gray hairs, but it was some sort of balm and comfort, the teasing, the trust, this moment of closeness. Thomas's warm fingers drew Krem in, and he sighed, happily.

"Does that mean," he asked softly, flashing a smile up at Thomas, "we're going to cuddle tonight?"

"Maybe," Thomas replied, playing coy as best as he could. He gave Krem's hair one final tug before he let his hands drop to his shoulders. He brushed his hands over the bare skin and then nodded.

"I could see that happening," he continued with an amused smile. "Not while you're soaking wet and covered in sand but maybe after, yeah."

Krem hummed and leaned up, bumping his nose gently against Thomas's as he smiled. The soft, easy affection of the moment blossomed in his chest, making him chuckle softly. "Are you really complaining about me being wet, or just cold-wet? Maybe the sand, though. That's a fair objection."

"I don't think it was complaining," Thomas said, shaking his head. "It's an observation, a fact. Does anyone really like to cuddle when they're wet, cold or otherwise?"

It just seemed like it would be a distraction more than anything else.

"But yeah, the sand's definitely a complaint. That stuff gets everywhere."

Krem hummed. He didn't mind being wet, or damp at least, and cuddling. Whether it was wallowing after sex or holding onto someone in the shower or bath. But that also supposed that the other person was equally damp or wet, so Krem thought he might have to concede that point.

"I'll make sure to do my best to not get sand everywhere, then." Krem chuckled softly. "Though, in my defense, the last time I ended up getting sand everywhere, it's because we were wrestling around in it, so...that might be your fault."

"If anything that's both of our faults," Thomas said, giving Krem's shoulder a shove. "It's not like I wrestled while you just lay there like a slinthead. You were fighting back and we both ended up shucking covered in sand. You don't get to blame me, Fluffy. Blame me and yourself."

"Oh, I never said I wasn't fighting back," Krem said with a laugh and a broad, brilliant smile. He pinched Thomas's side gently, just above the hip. "But I'm still going to blame you, I think. Yes, definitely. All your fault."

He punctuated the last three words with little taps up Thomas's spine, then trailed his fingers neatly right back down against.

"No cuddling for you," Thomas declared, giving Krem a light shove and kicking some water his way. "I'm perfectly fine with taking some blame that isn't mine -- "

More than some, actually, but that blame he was going to shoulder no matter what. Everything that happened back home was his fault. This wasn't. Not entirely.

" -- but this time, I'm half innocent so I get half blame. Not full."

Krem hummed about that, letting himself get gently shoved back, laughing softly. He looked deeply contemplative for a moment, and then, finally, he proclaimed, "Alright. It was probably about sixty-forty my fault, anyway. Since I started it, anyway."

It was quite the reversal of teasingly assigning the whole blame to Thomas, but it was certainly more honest. And Krem felt a lot better about shouldering the blame then letting Thomas think he could.

"That was a lot easier than I was expecting it to be," Thomas said, reaching up and messing Krem's hair just slightly. That was entirely his fault and it was something he'd take one hundred percent of the blame for.

"No wrestling tonight though," he decided with a shake of his head. He hadn't really gotten his hair wet so Krem was saved from a spray of water. "I'd like to avoid sand in weird places."

"No point in putting up a fight, was there?" Krem laughed softly, and made only a half grumbling noise as Thomas used his height as a means to reach for his damp hair and ruffle it. He reached up and gently pinched Thomas's wrist.

Then, he shrugged. Maybe no wrestling on the beach. Krem didn't try to push for a compromise or caveat on that stipulation Thomas had made though, just smiled. He was, after all, going to get to sleep beside him.

It still felt a dance, a game of stepping stones, navigating how much of them was friends and how much of them was something else, and where the lines of those were. Krem wished, sometimes, he had a manual for this sort of thing. He knew that the accident in May had thrown a wrench in things, and so he didn't want to push. He was just glad that he hadn't ruined things entirely.

A breeze caught him and he shivered. "Ooh, alright. Skinny dipping in July was a bad idea. Not quite warm enough yet."

Thomas couldn't help but snicker at the shiver. Thomas reached for Krem, trying to wrap his arms around Krem and provide some warmth. His clothes were damp and his skin was cool so he didn't know how helpful he'd be but he wanted to try.

"You look nice, though," he murmured, smile in his voice. "I don't want you to be cold but you definitely look nice. So, the cold had a small benefit for me, at least."

Even damp and cool, having the added buffer of Thomas's body holding his was nice. Krem let himself be wrapped up in Thomas's arms, and he leaned into the feeling of it a little. He covered Thomas's hands, arranging them carefully so he didn't put pressure on any of the new tattoos; they were still tender, after all.

"I'd say you were being selfish, but--" Krem smiled up at Thomas, leaned up the few inches so that he could give him a sweet, brief kiss. "--I like that you like it."

Thomas let Krem guide his hands, keeping his touch light because the last thing he wanted to do was hurt Krem. So, he settled his hands where Krem wanted them and sighed.

For a few lengthy moments, he stayed like that, feeling the tingle of Krem's kiss and the heat of his body before pulling back enough to smile.

"Put your clothes on and come back to mine, shank," he said. "I'll feed you and stuff."

Krem decided that the prospect of warmth and dryness and food was preferable to lingering in any sort of undress. He squeezed Thomas's fingers gently and trudged up through the water toward his clothes and began to pull them on, glad that he didn't care too much if they got damp. The worst part was the sand that got between his toes.

Once he'd pulled his shirt back on--he didn't bother with his sports bra for now; it would cling weirdly on his damp skin--he smiled at Thomas.

"Alright. I'm all yours."

Thomas stood back and watched Krem dress quietly. He kicked a little bit of sand towards his ankles just because he was a terrible slinthead but he otherwise let him dress in peace.

Once he was done, Thomas reached for his hand and tugged him along, heading away from the quietly rolling waves and towards the louder sounds of the city.

Krem laughed and smiled, at the playful, teasing kick of sand even, and when Thomas took his hand he laced their fingers together happily. This was good. Better than he would have expected for himself a year ago, two, more than that. He'd never expected to find some sort of peaceable happiness like this with someone else. To be in love was remarkable.

It was late enough that even though the city still made plenty of noise, they were quieter than the daytime ones. They walked quietly for a while.

After a time, Krem softly said, "I'm having a surgery soon. Near the start of August."

"Surgery?" Thomas repeated, glancing over at Krem. He hoped that the darkness concealed some of the concern that appeared in his eyes before he could get himself under control.

Thomas knew that surgery could entail a ton of different things so he tried not to worry until he knew more. "Are you all right, shank? What kind of surgery?"

"Yeah," Krem assured, giving Thomas's hand a gentle squeeze. "Yeah, I'm alright. It's--it's to make me infertile? It'll help balance a lot of my hormones, too, so I'll have less chance of any complications further down the line. So it's a preventative thing."

He was nervous--frightened. Surgeries were not common in Thedas, and they could be dangerous. He knew they were safer here, and he was trying not to think of frightening outcomes.

"It's just one more step of making me look and feel a bit more like I should."

Not for the first time, Thomas wished he'd talked more to the med-jacks back in the Glade to learn a little bit more about the human body and how it worked. He figured that this sort of thing was beyond Clint and Jeff but they had to have known something.

"Okay," Thomas said, taking that in and processing it quietly. "That's good, then. Right? It's good. Are you nervous?"

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