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.