"Uhhh, Gamzee... What's goin' on, bro?"
Gamzee felt his insides twist a little, but he kept any change in emotion (currently set to "stoned") off of his face when he replied.
"Just makin' my move, motherfuckin' best friend. There be miracles up in here. Don't worry though, buddy, I won't do nothin' if it ain't your style. That's not how bros motherfuckin' operate, my man."
Gamzee slid back gracefully, heading over to flop down on the couch on the other side of the room as if nothing had happened. Tavros just stood there for a moment, leaning weakly against the counter in the kitchen with his cheeks flushed, trying to regain his mostly absent composure.
Gamzee kissed him.
Gamzee. Kissed. Him.
No, stop, his mind screeched, bringing his thoughts to a grounding halt. He couldn't go there right now. Instead, he hobbled on his new prosthetics to his room, where he left the door open just a crack - he needed time to process, but he didn't want Gamzee to think his roommate was trying to shut him out completely - and plopped down at his desk (in a chair! A real chair!) and stared at his laptop, currently idle and blacked out.
His roommate was his best bro. But his roommate was interested in being more than best bros.
How much more? What did Gamzee want?
What did Tavros want?
He really didn't know.
While it was barely noticeable at all to the outside observer - it might seems as though nothing phased him, as though he took everything in stride with the same content, absent expression, as though it took things a while to sink in, as though he was often barely paying attention to the world around him - Gamzee was just as big of an emotional shitstorm as Tavros at that very moment.
Gamzee did a lot of drugs. And sometimes they allowed him to forget - forget the sound of his mum's panicked voice, or his dad's drunk and angry one, forget his abysmal grades, forget the way his insides melted every time Tavros gave him one of his shy smiles. And sometimes the drugs didn't do jack shit. The fact of the matter was, he was high often enough that he'd found the mannerisms infusing their way into his regular actions and speech patterns, into his daily life, so that one could no longer tell without a drug test whether he was actually high or not.
This gave him some advantages in his interactions with people. He could always blame impulsive decisions and stupid words on the drugs, say he'd been high at the time, he didn't know what he'd been thinking, and whether it was actually true or not, sometimes even he didn't know. But it also made it really difficult to be straight with people.
He'd fallen into the habit of following whims, experimenting, and generally doing whatever the fuck he felt like. And for the most part, that was awesome - he didn't need to get good grades or try hard or be a psychiatrist or athlete or lawyer or whatever the fuck father dearest was prattling on about this week. He didn't get emotional about things easily - didn't get mad when his Dad yelled at him, didn't get upset when he didn't show up to the school events (the play, the basketball game, the science fair) like he said he would, didn't get lonely, didn't get attached.
But now, now that he needed Tavros to know, to see him not just as his drug-addicted best bro of a roommate, now that he had to do something, he didn't know. He didn't know what to do or say, how to express it, how to make Tavros understand.
And then there was the complication of the fact that he still wasn't entirely sure he wanted him to, for although Tavros was his bestest bro in the world, there was another who at one time had called him best bro, and still motherfuckin' might.
Every time he thought about Tavros, thoughts of Karkat weren't far behind. While Tavros was his roommate now, and had been awesome and chill ever since they'd decided to share space, Karkat had been there first. Since childhood, as a matter of fact. Before he found the drugs, and then when the drugs weren't enough, Karkat had always been there. It was a safe place he could go, where although there was yelling a-plenty, none of it was angry, none of it really directed at him, and so it was much safer.
There was no violence (unless it was the occasional armwrestle or ticklefight nonsense that bros tend to engage in every now and then) and there was no hatred, not really. For while Karkat might profess to dislike him a great deal - hate him even, sometimes - Gamzee knew he never meant it. Not even close.
And so there was Karkat, now living with some motherfucker named John that "likes the shittiest fucking movies," and there was Tavros, who was here, who was adorable when he blushed, who was living with him, who called him best bro and not anyone else, who was a little broken but trying to heal.
Trying so, so hard to get better.
And maybe, if Gamzee could help... if he could see Tavros start to improve, start to become a new person... than maybe, just maybe, he could get better, too.
A week passes.
Slowly.
And then another.
The first day, Tavros barely leaves his room. He sleeps, he hobbles to the kitchen for food, still not used to his prosthetics. He listens to (reallyreallybad) rap in his room. He thinks.
He doesn't know what to think.
He tries to think anyway.
He is sprawled out on his bed, head bobbing lightly to his favorite song, forehead crinkled in a deep frown, and he tries.
Gamzee is Tavros's best bro, his superamigo. He is the most important person in Tavros's life. He is the one who was there when he had his accident, a new friend who stayed with him and took him to the hospital and visited him every single day. Gamzee brought him McDonald's so he wouldn't have to suffer hospital food all the time and helped him with his exercises and physical therapy when he got his new legs.
Gamzee wasn't the only one - Aradia visited sometimes, too, and even Vriska did once, although Gamzee didn't really like that, he was unusually quiet and tense the whole time - but Gamzee came every day. He stayed for hours. He didn't care when the doctors told him he would never walk again, he let Tavros break down and didn't comment, just lent him his shoulder and talked him through it.
"It's okay motherfucker, everything's gonna be sunshine and miracles, flowers all poppin' up in the cracks all over, just wait and see best friend. Those flowers'll be shovin' their fine-ass petals up outta the ground any day now."
"You're alive, that's all that motherfuckin' matters."
"I ain't goin' nowhere, motherfucker, just try to get ridda me."
Gamzee is the reason that Tavros left that hospital.
And Tavros owes him everything.
At first, Tavros is determined to say something. To ask for time, to acknowledge what happened, something. But when Gamzee walks by, his strides long and lazy, his smile exactly the same as always, and goes, "Sup, motherfucker?" Just like he always does, without really waiting for a response, and continues on, just like he does every morning, the same dazed look on his face... Tavros can't say anything. The words die in his throat, the life strangled out of them by the relief he feels.
There's guilt, too, in the bottom of his stomach, curling maliciously. But it's easy to ignore.
He'll answer. He will.
Eventually.
After he thinks it through.
When Tavros finally leaves his room and goes to the kitchen for food, the hope that blooms in Gamzee's chest makes his eyes water. He waits on the couch in the living room, just past the kitchen, and his whole body is buzzing with anticipation.
maybe he's okay with it maybe i'll get an answer if he left he must be feeling better he's hungry that's a good sign what is he going to do I can't stand this anymore -
Gamzee rises from the couch quietly, hovering by the archyway between the living room and kitchen for a moment, watching.
Tavros pulls some leftovers out of the fridge, puts them in the microwave, and doesn't see him. And Gamzee realizes that Tavros isn't going to talk to him.
It feels like an ice cube drops into his stomach, floats slowly down to the bottom.
If Tavros isn't going to say anything, well... That's answer enough.
Gamzee quietly leaves the doorway, is about to go back to the couch. Hide. He doesn't want Tavros to answer him anymore, he can't let Tavros say the words, he can't do it, he can't. He needs him.
Panic runs rampant, squeezing the air out of his lungs, and Gamzee knows what he has to do.
He must act like nothing happened.
He crams the panic into a tiny space at the base of his spine. Far away from his lungs, so it can't choke him anymore. Breathes. He can do this.
Lopes past the kitchen, pretends he's headed to his room.
It takes everything Gamzee has to smile, his best one, the hazy, not-all-there smile, carefree and content.
"Sup, motherfucker?"
He continues to his room.
Nothing happened.
Little by little, Tavros returns to normal.
Gamzee makes sure to keep a distance. Nothing anyone would notice, but where once he might've brushed his leg lightly under the table, ruffled his hair affectionately, or patted him on the back, he doesn't. He won't remind Tavros, won't do anything, because if he loses Tavros he's done. Finished. That's the end.
He'll lose himself to the drugs and never come back.
Every day that passes that Tavros doesn't say anything, every day he pretends that nothing happened, Gamzee dies a little inside.
But a slow death is far better than what he would've had to endure if he'd forced Tavros to answer. If he'd made him make a decision. If Tavros had told him that he wasn't into him that way.
Gamzee is sure that would be much, much worse.
"Tavros!"
You are hit rather suddenly with a large, bright-red-clad individual as she attempts to tackle you to the floor. But you've gotten used to your prosthetics a bit now, which are thick and solid, and she is wiry and light, so you are only thrown slightly off-balance from the encounter.
"Um, hi there, Aradia, it's really nice, to see you," you mumble into her hair, which is sort of choking you a little and you are trying very hard not to get it in your mouth because, ew, she would definitely not appreciate that.
"Tav you are getting so good with these things," Aradia gushes at you, her feet once more on the ground. She puts her hands on your shoulders, and she holds herself at arms-length, giving you a thorough looking-at. Suddenly her intense, searching gaze melts into a huge grin. "You look great, I'm so happy for you!"
She gives you one more fierce hug before prancing around you to greet your roommate. You still haven't broached any topics with Gamzee, as desperately as they need addressing, but your insides give these uncomfortable squirms every time you think about it and you sort of feel like your guts are trying to escape out the floor and perhaps get to those living in the floor below you and strangle them to death, because they certainly are not enjoying being in the vicinity of your midsection. You try to think about The Gamzee Situation as little as possible in an attempt to spare your neighbors below a horrible death at the hands of your intestines.
"Sup, TV," Sollux greets, his lisp as pronounced as ever, and he gives a lazy twitch of his arm that you are going to take as a wave, because that is just how Sollux is and he's kind of carrying a plate of something so you won't hold it against him this time even though you kind of really like getting hugs from Sollux despite the fact that he's even bonier than Aradia and Gamzee combined. Or maybe divided?
"Hey, Sollux, thank you for, um, coming, I know you have a lot of, well, irons, in various computer-related fires, except not actual fires, that wouldn't be, very good for your computers-"
"Relax, TV, you're babbling." Sollux gives your mohawk an affectionate ruffle before also moving around you, except he heads to the kitchen to place the plate he's holding on the counter. He has become a lot more laid-back since he started spending tie with Aradia, and also a little more affectionate, too. You think she is very good for him, even though he used to like her a lot, as more than a friend. But Aradia liked someone else, and turned him down. You're very glad they got past it; you don't think many people can survive things like that.
You wonder if you and Gamzee could.
You call a hasty Retreat on that line of thinking or you will be in danger of losing what little food is still in your stomach from breakfast.
"Sorry, about that, you know how it is, with my words." you watch him move around the kitchen for a moment, very precise, and you're pretty sure he moves faster and more gracefully than the last time you saw him. "Been spending a lot of, uhh, time around a certain, uhh, Strider, Sol?" You dig your finger lightly into his side to accentuate the comment, and feel a leaping giddiness lift and expand your chest, the corners of your lips pulling up when his cheeks get the slightest bit redder.
"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about, TV," he grumbles, turning further away from you to reach up and open a cabinet.
"You said, uhh, sup, when you came in, it doesn't, take a genius to, put two very similar things, in the vicinity of each other, to make a picture, you know?" Your grin keeps getting bigger as he avoids eye contact, busying himself doing whatever he is currently doing with the plates on the counter.
"TV that doesn't even make any sense," Sollux mutters, and it's barely understandable as his lisp gets even worse, and his head has drooped down so his bangs are hanging in front of his face, and you really wish he wouldn't do that because his heterochromatic eyes are really fun to look at, but it's still sort of adorable.
"You can't, distract me, mister, I already know, you like him," you prod, feeding off his embarrassment. You know that Sollux has liked Dave for a while, and you can kind of see why, Dave is a very likeable person, and so cool, but you also know that Dave is very very close with his best bro John, and you always kind of wondered about them. You'd hoped since John and Karkat seemed to be becoming a thing that maybe Sollux would have a shot, and from the looks of it...
Even if you can't work things out in the... romantic entaglement... quadrangle... area... that is your own life, well. At least your friends can, maybe?
"Yeah, well, liking a dude isn't enough, you know, they sorta have to like you back, numbnuts." Sollux's voice has gotten pretty quiet, and you wonder if maybe you'd gotten a little bit ahead of yourself, and maybe you really shouldn't be pushing this issue.
"He has to, umm, get over John sometime, I think. And you're, really attractive, you know, you totally have, umm, a chance," you offer, in an effort to apologize for maybe possibly making Sollux upset. You really appreciate him a lot, for hanging out with you, even though you are not very interesting. Upsetting one of the few people who made your life after the accident significantly better is really the last thing you think you can handle right now.
Sollux gives a weak smile as he finishes moving what turn out to be cookies from the dish he'd brought in onto the plates and moves to take them into the living room. "Whatever, people don't get over shit that quickly. Besides, shouldn't I be interrogating you? You've been living with GZ for like a month now, what's up with you?"
Your stomach does the thing where it tries to phase to the floor below again, and your face gets kind of uncomfortably hot, and you wave your hands frantically in some sort of distraction dance, or something. you think you might actually be subconsciously trying to hit Sollux with a limb in an effort to distract him because wowyou do not like where the conversation just went even though you are the one that started the romantic interrogation session.
"N-Nope! Nothing at all to report, there hasn't, been any developments, of any kind, nothing at all, wow those cookies look really good I should bring them to the others I am the host, and by host I mean a person, who lives in this building, and nothing else, and I am taking these cookies from you now," you babble, the words pouring out of your mouth as your arms fly every which way and almost knock the cookies to the floor several times before Sollux lifts them over your head, laughing. Whether he's laughing at your movements, which are still awkward and wobbly despite how good you've gotten at walking, or whether it's because you're pretty sure your voice went up at least two full octaves for that entire train wreck of a sentence, you aren't sure.
Sollux avoids you easily with his very natural and not at all prosthetic limbs and half-inch height advantage, and drops the topic with only a raise of his eyebrow (again, very Dave) before taking the cookies into the living area and setting them safely on the table. You hobble after him (no, hobble is probably, kind of a sad term, for your movements, lope, that one is better, you think, less crippled and upsetting), and since he took the spot on the floor in front of Aradia, you opt for the only open space left, the one on the couch, next to Gamzee.
Luckily Gamzee is kind of sprawled out on the end, his feet resting on the edge of the table, so you can sit safely on the other end of the decent-sized couch, with plenty of space in between you.
"Motherfuckin' mircles, Solbro, you up and brought some radtastic motherfuckin' cookies for us?" Even Gamzee's usual stoner demeanor cannot smother the delight in his voice. You can't help the warm glow of affection; Gamzee is so easy to please, sometimes.
"You've got to be joking," Sollux scoffs. "I don't do baking, it was all AA. I just did the heavy lifting."
"Really, Sollux, because carrying a plate of cookies from the car is such a burden," Aradia teases, grinning, her nose wrinkled as she stops running her fingers lightly through his hair to poke him. He gives an undignified yelp, but his answering smile is just as big, and you are really happy for them, like deliriously happy, just being in the same room with these people, and their affection is like, contagious.
"The fact remains, my miraculous brethren, that cookies have been delivered unto this humble household, and i am all up and bursting with gratitude for this motherfuckin' delicious turn of events," Gamzee says, reaching for the cookies and stuffing several into his mouth at once.
Your chest squeezes uncomfortably again, and you decide it might be healthier if you don't watch him. Aradia and Sollux have finally stopped giggling, and Sollux reaches for the cookies, grabbing two, and handing one to Aradia.
"Tavros, help yourself!" Aradia says, waving her cookie at you in a look-see-they're-tasty-and-not-gross-at-all-i-promise! Kind of way, and you would really like one, but you're honestly not sure if it will stay down if you were to attempt to eat one.
"Umm, maybe later, if that's alright, i'm not, exactly hungry, at the moment," you mumble, and you aren't sure why but your face is getting red again, and you really hope they don't think you are sick or have a fever or something, because then they would try to take care of you and that would be terribly inconvenient for them, but they must notice how red you have been, and you make the mistake of glancing over at Gamzee, who is watching you with a kind of glazed look, but his brow is drawn in a tiny frown, and you look away quickly, at your hands, your lap, anything except his face.
There is a brief moment of silence, and you will no one to notice anything, and thank your lucky stars when Aradia starts talking again, until you hear what she actually says.
"Sol, didn't Gamzee mention something about wanting you to take a look at his computer for him?"
"What?" Sollux says, turning toward her. "I don't think so, he barely uses the thing, it's a piece of-"
"I'm pretty sure I remember you saying something about that, Sol, can you maybe go do that since we're here anyway?" Aradia gives Sollux a Look, and Sollux pauses briefly, finally getting the hint. "Oh yeah right, that, sure, GZ, let's go take a look..."
And then Sollux is dragging Gamzee over to look at his computer, or possibly something else entirely, you think you might've just gotten trapped with Aradia, and that she might've noticed something, and you really hope not, because wow, you don't know if you can talk about this, and you really want Sollux to come back, he wouldn't make you talk about it-
"Tav," Aradia says, and you sigh. You know that tone. You know it well. Aradia had to use it a couple times in the hospital, once when you tried to tell them they could leave, that you were okay, they didn't need to stay so long, and Aradia just Tav-ed you and you didn't mention it again after that.
You don't know why you thought she wouldn't notice anything, you were probably stupid to let them over when there is this Thing with Gamzee, and Aradia notices everything.
But you don't know where you start, so you just rub some dirt off of your prosthetics, and stare at your hands, until she comes and sits next to you, settling an arm across your shoulders, and you lean into her a bit.
"Tav, what's wrong?"
Her voice is so gentle this time, so sincere, that you feel tears prickling at your eyes, blurring your vision, and you draw in a ragged breath, barely, because your chest has constricted kind of violently, and you think it might cut off your air.
She just pulls you into a warm hug, shooshing you quietly, and between sobs you manage to gasp out the whole thing, the kiss, how you avoided him for a day because you didn't know what to say, the way he acted like nothing had happened.
"And I know I need to, to say something, I know, but I just, I can't, I don't, what do I even-"
"Shh, Tavros, calm down. It's okay. Look at me," she coos softly, and you do, your raise your head so you can see her eyes, and yours must be all red and puffy and gross, and you're pretty sure you got some snot on her shirt, but her eyes are sympathetic and a dark, warm brown, and you feel a little better as she wipes the tears off of your cheeks.
"What do you want, Tavros?"
You stare at her, and think, thoughts swirling all around. "I don't know, he was there for me, the whole time, and, I feel like, if I don't say something, I don't know what, he would do-"
"Tavros." Your thoughts come to a halt at Aradia's tone, which is gentle, but firm, and a sort of lull settles over you.
"I didn't ask about Gamzee. I asked what you want."
What do you want, Tavros?
You think of Gamzee, of how you felt every day when he came to see you, how you felt before he got there, after he left. How he looked when he stayed so long that he fell asleep with his head resting on his arms at the side of your bed. How he didn't bother with his makeup, most days, and you could see his face, and his eyes, and it didn't look like he had a slightly unnerving grin the whole time.
You think about how his lips felt on yours. Soft, and warm, and achingly gentle.
For maybe the first time, in a long, long time,
you know exactly what you want.
"So, GZ, you want some upgrades on your train wreck, piece of shit, poor excuse for a computing device?"
"Bring on the mad technology, Solbro. Do whatever your little steam-powered bloodpumper is all to be desirin'."
Sollux ambles over to your desk - which has a plethora of empty faygo bottles strewn across it, only a few of which are upright - and starts typing away at inhuman speeds, quickly becoming absorbed.
"Hey, motherfuckin' best buddy," you begin slowly, "I'm all up an' musin' on a quandary that's buzzin' around in this big ol' skull a mine."
"Fire away, crazy clown," Sollux replies, his tone is softer than usual.
"Would you happen to be all mentally comprehendin' what your bestest palebuddy was all wantin' to talk to my fidgety little roommate for?"
After a moment more of tapping, Sollux replies without turning around. "Haven't the foggiest, dude. AA's mind is like an enigma wrapped in a scientific equation in the middle of a labyrinth, in an alternate dimension. Divided by zero. Fuck if I know what she's thinking."
You chuckle, and it's a lost, hollow kind of sound. "I'm not all to be able to make sense of your mad mathspeak, motherfucker, but I have an inkling that I'm to be getting the general impression of the situation you're all to be describin' to me."
The room falls into silence for several long minutes as Sollux continues doing what he does best with your decrepit laptop.
Finally he finishes, swivelling around in the chair to face you.
"Okay, your shitty fucking machine from hell has been marginally less shittified. Lovely doing business with you, please for the love of fuck don't make me do it again."
You manage to quirk a small smile, but it's tired and sad-looking. Sollux winces.
"Hey, GZ."
You give him a questioning grunt, staring intently at your toes as you wiggle them against the carpet, dreading whatever is coming. Sollux interprets this as, yes, Sollux, please continue with whatever question you were thinking of asking me, you have my full and undivided attention. He knows, he is the best friend ever, in all of paradox space. It is him.
"Tav likes you, dude. A lot. You should totally hit that."
Your eyes snap up, but Sollux isn't looking at you. He's already risen from the chair and is half way out the door.
"Later, GZ."
You let out a breath in a sharp puff of air, and bury your hands in your dark, wild hair.
"I'm motherfuckin' tryin', bro."
Aradia and Sollux leave after their respective feelings jams and polishing off the last of the cookies, and the apartment is quiet once more. You watch Tavros out of the corner of your eye, because he is even twitchier than he was before the visit. Your heart sinks further; obviously whatever Aradia said has upset him, but you can't do anything about it; it'd probably just upset him even more if you were to try. You run through everything you can think of to say to Tavros, look for the option that you think will upset him least, will put things back the way they were. Anything. You think about apologizing, and then about smoking, but decide against both; apologizing means reminding him, and as for smoking, well. Tav doesn't like it, and you're pretty sure it wouldn't help this situation, anyway.
Besides, if you get high and come on to an unwilling Tav, you are pretty sure you will never forgive yourself.
Instead, you tell Tavros that you're "gettin' some motherfuckin' shut-eye," and retreat to your room earlier than usual.
Tav looked like he wanted to say something, but you abscond before he can get the words out. You don't want to hear it.
Gamzee goes to his room early.
You cannot remember the last time Gamzee went to sleep early.
You decide that you need to take your mind off things, to settle down, and you try to watch a movie.
But the hot, leading actor has this stooping walk and sways back and forth, always moving even when he's standing still, just like Gamzee.
The main love-interest has dark, wavy hair, kind of like Gamzee's.
There is this scumbag asshole villain guy who causes all kinds of problems (nothing like Gamzee!), but... he smokes.
The protagonist and his love interest run into this older couple who are walking their dog, and the dog has these sad, droopy eyes. It reminds you painfully of Gamzee.
You chuck the remote at the TV and bury your face in the pillow.
You can't do this anymore.
You get up and stand outside Gamzee's door.
Then you decides that you need to take a shower. You can talk to him when he wakes up.
You spend the time you've bought yourself (wuss coward just talk to him what is wrong with you don't run away from this you've run away too much already) scrubbing fiercely at your skin, trying to allow the scorching water to wash away... something, you're not really sure what.
Maybe your cowardice.
Maybe everything else, too.
After you're clean, you return to standing outside Gamzee's door. Then you realize that you are starving. How are you supposed to talk to him when you're starving?
You go to the fridge, open the door, and then immediately slam it closed, and return to Gamzee's door without touching anything in the way of food.
You are about to rap your knuckles on the door before you can change your mind again, but the door opens suddenly; it seems Gamzee wasn't asleep, after all. You are relieved.
Then you are terrified.
You open your mouth, but your stomach drops, and it pulls the words down with it.
"Tavbro? Did you want something?" Gamzee is frowning at you sleepily, but you notice that there is real concern there. It is not merely an idle comment.
Does Gamzee make idle comments? You are no longer sure.
"Um, yes, I had a thing, that I wanted to, um, say," you say, stuttering worse than you ever have before. You look down and miss the brief flicker of panic that crosses Gamzee's expression before a tired acceptance settles over him.
"Sure thing, Tav. C'mon in," he says, opening his door and settling himself on his bed, leaning back on his hands, seeming the picture of ease. This makes your stomach squirm harder.
You settle in the chair at Gamzee's desk, and when Gamzee opens his mouth to say something, words pour out of you in a jumbled mess.
"I don't know, what I did, to make you upset, or, I guess, I kind of do, I mean, I didn't, mean, to not say anything, I wasn't sure, what, I thought, or, what I wanted, I guess, and I was afraid, I think, and then when you, y'know, I panicked, and I was trying, to think, but then you didn't say anything, and I wanted, to talk to you, but-"
"Whoa whoa, Tavbro, you are wordsmithing at the speed of motherfuckin' warp drive, bro, I am all unable to be parsin' that there paragraph you just up an' articulated at me," Gamzee says, confusion knitting his features.
You don't think you've ever seen Gamzee's expression as clear as it is right now, and it makes it even harder to say your next few words, but somehow, you manage. You are tired of not being confident, and you are tired of being confused.
"Gamzee," you say, and take a deep breath. "Why did you kiss me?"
Gamzee stares, and doesn't move. He goes absolutely still. This is it. A direct question. He can't evade, so he has to answer.
The silence drags on. Gamzee looks at you, hard, searching. For what, you don't know. The answer to life, the universe, and everything, maybe?
"Gamzee," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. Gamzee looks sad, and flinches slightly, even though you are barely making any noise at all. "Why did you stop?"
There is a split second where Gamzee processes the words, replays them in his mind. Realizes what you just asked.
After that he is across the room in a hardbeat, and he pulls you up against him, pressing his lips pressed against yours, his hands on either side of your face. You gasp in surprise, and Gamzee takes the opportunity to introduce his tongue to your teeth. He traces along your lip, up to the roof of your mouth, and it feelsamazing.
With a tiny sigh, you return the kiss.
You return the kiss enthusiastically.
You melt into Gamzee's embrace, deepening the kiss, and you bring your hands up to touch his hair, to run your fingers through it, then down and across his chest, his arms, settling around his waist. You pull him closer to you, because you are too far, you don't want to be this far, you need to be closer.
Gamzee pulls you tighter against him, as if he felt your desperation, and his lips never leave yours as one hand moves to grip the back of your neck, the other still resting gently against your cheek. His thumb runs back and forth along your jawline, and the motion sends sparks across your skin.
Eventually you have to breathe, and when you finally break apart, both at the same time, Gamzee says with his lips still brushing lightly against yours - like he can't bear to be any further - that he is going to bake the most delicious pie in the entire world the next time Sollux and Aradia come by.
You tell him you are, definitely, going to help him out, with that.
Gamzee says that it will be the best motherfuckin' pie anyone has ever up and laid their motherfuckin' mitts on.