Dave grunts against Gamzee's shoulder, instinctively closing his jaws down harder, tightening his grip in the troll's hair, using his legs to tug his hips harder into Gamzee's powerful thrusts. Blood drips from countless superficial wounds, bruises form and heal within minutes of each other, and Dave's pretty sure he's going to be fighting the urge to walk funny for weeks after this, but right now he really can't bring himself to care.

Because there's heat building burning through him again, coiling deep down in his abdomen, and all he wants is to keep going until it snaps, radiating out from his head to his toes, taking him away like the raddest of flows.