"I'm not wearing any - nngh - fucking red jewelry, you ass," Dave hisses, but that's about as much as he manages to get out. Once Gamzee slips another finger inside him, those long fingers twisting and stroking and stretching Dave out with that burn that's somehow so good, Dave finds it rather hard to make any noises except harsh groans and soft, pleading noises.

And when Gamzee guides them to the ground, Dave goes - except that his knees are only holding him up because he's locked them into place, and the minute he bends them, they collapse, refusing to hold his weight anymore. He goes down, hard, all the wind rushing out of him as Gamzee's sharp angles land on top of him.