"Don't be all asking at this brother that. I DON'T MOTHERFUCKING KNOW." Gamzee doesn't bother moving from where he is. He needs a shower in the worst way, but a part of him is pleased by the sweat and blood and genetic material--he still can't quite get over the color of Dave's though; it's so weird. Exotic--as a sign of this relationship. The back and forth. The owning in every sense of the word and being owned in return. All of that lights up a fire in him and he carefully nurtures the warming flames.

So he just sits and watches, enjoying Dave's debauched look and the way he plays with the earring. He doesn't think he'll ever get enough of that sight. It's strong and vulnerable at the same time, but only vulnerable because he motherfucking won this match. Dave might win the next, but that's okay. They wouldn't be good kismesis if one of them won all the time.