Text Test Post

[paradiseblossoms]

Closed to Gamzee Makara (honkalypse) and Dave Strider (sicknastiest).

Comments

[sicknastiest]

[Dave's been pretty cautious around the asteroid recently. He's learning, slowly, which trolls are okay to be around and which ones are better to avoid. Terezi, for instance, is pretty decent company, but Dave always has to worry about getting his eyeballs licked when he's around her, or something freaky like that.

Karkat's pretty fun to annoy, and since he's gone all pale with Gamzee, the murder-troll's not all that bad, either. Still, when Dave rounds a corner and spies Gamzee, his first instinct is to freeze, and then start backing up as quietly as possible. He's all for their black romance helping to calm the troll down from his crazy rages, but he still remembers how much pain he was in after their last encounter.]

[honkalypse]

Gamzee is getting used to a new balance. He doesn't think all the shit up in his motherfucking head is ever going to go away, and it feels like constantly standing on a precipice with half of him trying to pull him fucking off and half trying to hold him back. Hold him back with Karkat pulling on him with all his strength too.

And Dave. Which is something he's been thinking about a lot lately. What he has, what he feels, is hot and black and pretty useful in other ways. An outlet for the violence and urge to play and torment and tease. But he's not entirely sure that's the way a good, healthy kismesissitude is supposed to work. And he doesn't want to lose Dave, not when he's just gotten the human and it's feeling so good. Karkat knows about his black feelings, of course, but not about him... consummating things and Dave agreeing. So he's a little worried about telling Karkat about it even for the schoolfeeding on kismesis, because he's sure there'll be an explosion big enough to shake the whole asteroid apart.

He's still pondering all of this when he hears something and catches sight of the human. Is Dave...backing up? That pushes all kinds of hunting instincts to the fore. He's abandoned trying to lilt like he used to when he speaks, though there's still a little in there, because it just doesn't feel natural anymore. He's changed, and can't go back. So he just lets his volume fluctuate as it will. "Dave. DAVE, WHERE ARE YOU GOING? Stirring up all kinds of chase-y feelings up in me right now. IS THAT WHAT YOU'RE UP AND TELLING AT ME, that you're all up and raring for a good game of hide and hunt?"

[sicknastiest]

He mutters something that might be a curse, low under his breath, and straightens up with a shrug from that hunched-over posture that all people who are sneaking seem to adopt for some reason.

"Nah," he says, nonchalantly, tucking his hands into his pockets - thank god his God Tier outfit came with pockets, they're essential to the coolkid look. "Striders don't hide, we're just too goddamn cool for that."

[honkalypse]

"You were up and acting all like a squeakbeast. Like the most motherfucking attractive prey in front of my lookstubs. Makes a troll start kicking all kinds of predatory feels towards you. I like it." He licks his lips and slowly stalks forward, feeling the rush of interacting with his kismesis. The thought of having to catch Dave makes his bloodpusher start thudding, and it's motherfucking amazing.

But he'll only play if Dave up and wants the chasing. He's just fine with griefing and more subtle struggles.

[sicknastiest]

That is not a shiver of fear that finds its way down Dave's spine, nope - there must be a breeze in this corridor, or something. He stands his ground as the troll approaches, feigning offense.

"Now, that's just not cool, bro. I mean, sure, I have no idea what the fuck a 'squeakbeast' is, but I'm betting it's nothing an amazingly cool dude like myself wants to be compared to."

[honkalypse]

He picks out the faint shiver, and he doesn't know if it's from want, like the one that just went down his own spine, or from nervousness. Gamzee decides that the difference doesn't up and matter none at all; it's all the same, in the end. He advances while he speaks, close enough to touch, but pointedly avoiding any contact, even when he's well into Dave's personal bubble. It's almost as if he's up and daring Dave to back down. Or stand his ground.

"Squeakbeasts are up and being vicious motherfuckers when they're all backed up tight into corners. But they're also very very very small. Look so motherfucking cute and helpless until they up and sink teeth right into a motherfucker. But they're all full of wicked running before they fight and so much fun to chase."

Because on Alternia, everything could be mean and vicious, even the cute and harmless and so very small. He tipped his head to the side and swooped in to breath deep--but not touch, not yet--of the human's scent, knowing full well how close his mouth was to that tender neck.

[sicknastiest]

Dave's breath leaves him in a quick, shuddering rush, and he can't quite stop the way his head tips slightly to the side, exposing that scarred mark Gamzee left on him the last time - and concealing the matching one on the other side of his neck, the one from Tavros.

"Well, I ain't in a corner yet," he says softly, and his drawl is just a little more present than usual, "and I'm sure as hell not small and cute, but I guess I can give you a run before that bite, if that's what you really want."

And in the blink of an eye, he's gone, halfway down the corridor in a flash step, and already prepping for another.

[honkalypse]

He groans at that shuddering rush and the scar, so full of anticipation that it almost makes him dizzy. It's an addictive feeling, and he wonders briefly how he could have lasted so long on the Sopor without it. He's spent the time since mostly recovering under Karkat's and Kanaya's watchful eyes (as much as he understands he shouldn't compulsively collect corpses it's...hard not to give in) with so much good food and rest that he's almost sick of the care. But it has made him stronger. The cravings still tear him apart, and he can only sleep with Karkat actively working to soothe him, but the pain is somewhat more bearable and he isn't shaking the whole time. It's an improvement he's grateful for, because being anything less than his best for his kismesis just isn't a thing he wants to be.

He doesn't bother saying anything, just letting loose his best snarl and flashstepping after. He's pleased Dave so fast. It'll make catching him so much sweeter. He can't let thoughts of then distract him though, because then Dave might win.

[sicknastiest]

No. No no no, that is not a thing that Dave likes, he does not find that snarl oddly hot - damn it, why does he have to get off on alien noises so much? Flashstepping is a lot harder when your junk is apparently deciding to hold an impromptu party in your pants.

He manages, though, sprinting down the hall in between blurred movements, his legs pumping smoothly. He slides around the corner, throwing his - admittedly rather slightly - body weight to keep from barreling into the opposite wall and takes off again, feeling his legs start to burn in that way they only do when he's pushing himself to his limits. It makes his chest burn for a different reason, missing his strifes with Bro, but he ignores that for now.

There's a murderous clown troll after him, after all. He can't really let his attention wander.

[honkalypse]

He feels the burn of want, and hate, and pushing himself. It feels so motherfucking good. But he's aware that he can't flashstep quite as liberally as he'd like. His stamina is so very low right now. So Dave gets and keeps a slight lead, at least at first, but Gamzee stays close enough that his snarls and growls are easily heard.

This is so much fun. The chase, the sight of Dave's body moving like perfect clockwork, the competition. This is something he never knew he was missing.

But he's tiring, breathing in hard, desperate gasps and feeling the burn turn bitter and painful in the bad way. So he does something reckless, rocketing forward with two flashsteps in a row and trying to pounce Dave from behind.

[sicknastiest]

Dave hears that labored breathing behind him - and those fucking wonderful snarls, fuck there's definitely something wrong with him for wanting that - and he has just a moment to think that he might win this, that he might get away, when he feels nearly all of Gamzee's weight collide with his back, sending him sprawling.

His sleeves ruck up his arms, leaving bare skin exposed for friction burns as he skids across the floor; his shades are knocked askew and go clattering down the hallway - instinctively, he snaps his eyes shut tightly and tries to remember how to breathe.

[honkalypse]

Oh fuck, the human squirming under him shouldn't feel so incredibly good. Gamzee growls loudly against Dave's neck, but it's short because he's panting hard, and has to end it to breathe. He slides his hands down Dave's arms and digs sharpened nails in, but his mouth presses almost delicately against the scar he left.

"All up and kicking the wicked feels right now. CAN YOU FEEL IT, MOTHERFUCKER?"

Then he leans up and licks Dave's eyelid, curious to see if he can get Dave to open his eyes. His makeup has already started to smear, and that gets a pleased rumble. his

[sicknastiest]

Dave's own breath comes short and sharp, especially as Gamzee's nails prick his skin, and hot breath ghosts over that scar he's always so aware of on his neck. He's seen the others looking at it, especially the other trolls - he can only assume they know what it means.

"Yeah," he breathes, even as he tilts his head away from Gamzee's exploring tongue. Tavros is the only one who's seen his eyes, and he's not sure if he's ready to change that yet - not sure he's ready to give that particular weapon to the one person on this asteroid who hates him more than anyone else.

"Yeah, I can feel it, you fucker."

[honkalypse]

He's amused at how sensitive Dave is about his eyes. He can only assume that they're some weird color for humans, or he's like Terezi and needs to protect eyes that can't protect themselves. Whichever it is, he doesn't care, and is determined to see them someday, but he can be patient, and in the meantime it's fun to lick and suck all over Dave's face, smearing paint and spit.

"Yes. EXACTLY." He growls that out against Dave's cheek and rocks his hips downward, feeling desperate and they haven't even started. He doesn't want to lose this chance like the last time, even if the last time was mindblowingly good. So he makes a suggestion that's as much for his benefit as Dave's. "We gonna kick this right here in the hall, motherfucker? OR DO YOU WANT THIS UP SOMEWHERE PRIVATE?'

[sicknastiest]

He grimaces at the feel of all that shit smearing across his face - white and gray are not his colors, and he's pretty sure that Gamzee's pale purple spit probably isn't helping matters any. And yet...even with all of that, he still rocks up into that grind of Gamzee's hips against his, hot and hard in his ridiculous red pants. What are these trolls doing to him?

"Up to you, bro," he growls into the troll's oddly delicate ear, feeling his way there with slick slides of the tip of his tongue along Gamzee's sharp jawline. "Think you can manage to keep me under control all the way back to your respite block?"

[honkalypse]

Oh fuck, fuck, that grind almost makes him want to just do things right here, but he wants to take his motherfucking time and privacy will make that easier. Gamzee grinds down in quick jerks with sharp snarling breaths and then leans back, pulling Dave's arms back. Rough, but he is taking care not to dislocate shoulders or anything.

"I THINK I CAN RISE UP TO THAT CHALLENGE." He pulls, jerking to his feet and trying to bring Dave with him, and pull the human tight to his body. "Get your move on now."

[sicknastiest]

Dave groans, half from those hips jerking down into his, half from the way he can feel his shoulders creak painfully as Gamzee yanks on his arms. So he goes when he's pulled up, scrabbling to get his feet under him, staggering back against Gamzee's body.

The troll is lanky, and thinner than Dave, it's true - but he's also so much stronger, and at this kind of disadvantage, there's really little Dave can do except go where he's led.

[honkalypse]

He mouths absently against Dave's ear, breathing hot and fast against his kismesis in between little growls. He doesn't bother speaking on the way to his block, just nudging and shoving Dave forward with his body.

He does fumble with opening the door, having to make extra sure he keeps that grip on Dave's wrists. He fully intends to be the one doing the fucking this time, unless Dave escapes and overpowers him. But once he does get them inside, there's a sudden crack as he pulls a whip out of his sylladex. Best way to make sure Dave doesn't escape is to tie him up a little, right? But he savors the reaction to the noise first.

[sicknastiest]

That gets Dave struggling in earnest - because fuck no, it was bad enough having that thing wrapped around his neck for a split second the last time, he doesn't want to know what Gamzee could do to him with it while he's immobilized like this.

"Fuck, Gamz, don't you dare," he warns, although he's not sure how effective that is, what with his being frogmarched here with his hands behind his back. And fuck it's unfair that his wrists are so slim or that Gamzee's hands are so large, or that some combination of the two lets the troll hold onto both his arms with just one hand.

"I do not get off on having my skin stripped off."

[honkalypse]

"I'm not up and planning on cracking it all up and over you. DON'T GET YOUR WORRY ON. Any blood spilled will be up and only me. TOOTH AND NAIL."

He feels a little uncertain, because he hadn't expected Dave to object quite so seriously, and he can tell that it is. His voice gains an edge of that. "Was up and planning of it being all rubbing against you, HOLDING YOU FUCKING STILL."

There's no movement to do that though, because there's a fine line between the sweet black hate and platonic hate, and he doesn't want to create the latter in Dave. He'll make sure Dave isn't going to object to being tied first.

[sicknastiest]

He hears that uncertainty, and oddly enough, it makes him boil, makes his blood go surging through his veins and sends his pulse thundering in his ears. And maybe it's the idea of being tied coupled with the thought of Gamzee being afraid to...to what, hurt him? But whatever it is, it's hot and deep and black.

Maybe he's getting the hang of this troll relationship thing, after all.

"Well, fuck," he says, shrugging as best he can, ignoring the way it makes his shoulders scream. "Why didn't you say so?"

The tension runs right out of him, leaving him loose and relaxed in Gamzee's grip.

"I mean, I didn't need to tie you down the last time, but if you think you need the help, then - shit, why not? Not like it's going to bother me any."

[honkalypse]

The relaxation is confusing. Dave isn't supposed to be relaxed about this. He's just not supposed to... Fuck. He's not sure how to put it in words.

Then Dave keeps talking and Gamzee sees black. Pure, pitch black. Abandoned is the idea of going slowly and teasing Dave until he's begging, while Dave can't retaliate. He snarls, fitting his free hand--now without the whip--around Dave's throat and yanking his head to the side. The only care in his next action is to make sure his teeth line up exactly with the scar he'd left as he bites down, very hard.

Then, growling and with teeth still in Dave's flesh, he spins them and shoves Dave hard against the nearest wall, not caring that his own arm gets bruised up a little in the process.

[sicknastiest]

Teeth in his neck, opening up that ugly scar, make him groan, and definitely not in a bad way - there is pain, an awful fucking lot of it, but fuck if that doesn't just make it better. He's definitely going to have to get Tavros to look at it again, though - that bite feels a lot deeper than the last one, and Dave has a moment to worry about whether or not Gamzee hit anything important before he's getting shoved up against the wall.

That grunt is a little more out of pain, and certainly results in some panting as Dave tries to regain the breath that's just been knocked out of him. It's hard to sound quite as put together when you're breathing that hard, but Dave does his best.

"Hit a sore spot, did I? Badass, revenge-murdering troll can't keep an inferior human in check? I mean, fuck - even - "

He stops there, though, because Dave Strider might tempt fate, but he's not an idiot. He doesn't know why he's goading Gamzee on like this, but he doesn't think he wants to go so far as to mention Tavros. He'd still like to be able to walk out of here at the end of this.

[honkalypse]

"Had a different kind of battle up and planned. SEE IF YOU COULD MOTHERFUCKING OUTLAST ME with all the best crazy slow mapping what you all got." Even the shout is muffled into Dave's neck as he licks and sucks, rough and hard at the bite.

He rocks against Dave once, twice, before pulling back just a little and sliding his hand and arm up under Dave's shirt. His intention is clear as he starts to yank up, but he speaks anyway. "DUCK THAT MARSHMALLOW NUB or this will fucking hurt more."

Or rip Dave's shirt, but that shit's up and coming off in one way or another.

[sicknastiest]

Completely without his consent, one of Dave's long legs is suddenly wrapped around Gamzee's hips, tugging the troll tight to his body as he rolls his hips against Gamzee's in a slow, insistent rhythm.

He does duck his head at Gamzee's request, if only because he's not sure how these God Tier clothes work, and whether or not he can make more on the alchemiter. He doesn't exactly feel like finding out, so he lets Gamzee tug the shirt over his head.

"Well," he says, his voice a little muffled by the fabric of his shirt, "I seemed to do pretty fucking well for myself last time."