paradiseblossoms | Text Test Post

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.

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.

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

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."

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?'

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?"

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."

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.

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.

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."

"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.

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."

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.

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.

"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.

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."

He doesn't finish pulling the shirt off and instead just leaves it tangled with Dave's arms and moves to his pants instead. Dave's leg around him like that makes him shudder and groan. It would be so easy to get that intense, full feeling of being fucked by the human back. So easy for Dave to get the upperhand. But no.

Fuck no. Gamzee punctuates his thoughts with bites that are gentler than the first but still enough to knick skin. His hands work frantically at Dave's pants. Clothes off. Now.

Oh, fuck that shit - Dave's not about to be naked while Gamzee flits about in all of his ridiculous clothing. He struggles out of the rest of his shirt while Gamzee attacks his pants, and then his calloused hands are sliding all over the troll, tugging and pulling at fabric and fastenings.

With Gamzee's mouth occupied on his neck, he finds the troll's horns are in easy mouthing reach, so he eagerly applies tongue to long, curved horns.

He chirps and trills in pleasure at that mouth sliding over his horns and Dave's hands working at his clothes. He lets Dave work, because that was going to be next anyway, and drags his nails down Dave's side as he busies himself by sucking on the marks he's leaving.

His bulge is nearly writhing already, but he can't help it at all; this is too intense for anything else.

Remembering last time, Dave lets his attentions get a little rough - he digs blunt nails into Gamzee wherever he can, tugs roughly at fabric so it rasps over pale grey skin, even goes so far as to apply his teeth carefully to Gamzee's horns in a soft scraping motion along the length.

One of his hands claws its way down Gamzee's lanky frame and slips past the loosened waistband of his pants, where Dave wraps long fingers around the troll's bone bulge and pumps, just once.

Yes, fuck yes. Gamzee likes the roughness, responding with throaty sounds and shifting into Dave's touches. The teeth on horns gets a little hiss, but it's a good one as he bites down and laps up more blood. He cups and kneads Dave's ass while moving against him, leaving lines and lines of so very shallow scratches--almost like papercuts--to irritate and sting.

But the stroke to his bulge makes his fingers dig in, drawing up thick beads of blood. "OH FUCK. ngh, Dave, fuck--"

He immediately hates himself for being so motherfucking responsive, but everything is so intense that it threatens to sweep him away.

Fuck, Dave doesn't mind those little scratches so much - they sting in a way that makes him hiss softly against Gamzee's horns, breaths low and harsh, and they heal up a hell of a lot faster than those gouges Gamzee cut into him last time.

Which, hey, speaking of which, kind of seem like they're making a repeat appearance as claws suddenly rake against his skin, and Dave gives a clipped, strained kind of noise that's half grunt, half groan, his leg tightening instinctively around Gamzee's hips and crushing his hand between their bodies, still wrapped around Gamzee's bulge.

He doesn't want to lose that incredible feeling against his horns, but at the same time he wants to feel that wicked and talented mouth against his. He wants other things too, and the desires are so conflicting. To fuck, to be fucked. To do it right here, with Dave shoved against the wall or to force him on hands and knees and enjoy him like that.

He groans and growls, getting impatient with himself and with the whole situation, while tonguing one of the bites he's left. The wall seems like a good idea, with Dave's leg wrapped around them like this. So Gamzee pulls a hand free, taking a moment to smack Dave's ass over the shallow cuts he'd left, and shoves his own pants down around his thighs. His bulge is wild, getting indigo all over Dave's hand and their stomachs, and he lets his hand join Dave's in part to gather some of that slickness. He's learned that humans don't have a nook at all (strange, backward species) so there's only one option, and he wants Dave begging unashamedly for more, not screaming in pain, mostly. That can come later, in a different situation.

Hey, the trolls created the human universe, it's pretty much their fault that humans don't have nooks. Or tentacledicks, which - speaking of which - keeps slipping through Dave's fingers as he tries to stroke it, indigo fluid smearing everywhere.

His hips jerk forward again at that smack, painful for a number of reasons, the least of which is not that there's thin rivulets of sweat running down his body, salt being rubbed into tiny little cuts - and that shit stings like a bitch.

And, fuck, he knows he should probably fight back, should probably resist - that's what all of this is about, right? - but he knows what it's like, sex with a troll, and he can't help but think that sex with Gamzee is bound to be really, really good.

If Gamzee had known that something they up and motherfucking did made humans nookless, he would have tried to change things. Honestly, he up and blamed it on the fucking frog being wrong. But those thoughts are pushed away by how Dave writhes against him, so hot and wanting and fuck damn is he going to give.

He reaches down and takes Dave's dick in hand with a few strokes, spreading indigo prettily all over flushed skin. Mm, good, it makes that skin nice and slick. He growls and then presses his hand back between his own legs for a second, letting out a high-pitched needy whine as his fingers dip into his dripping nook, getting thoroughly soaked and slick. "Be all motherfucking easier if you had a nook."

That's all the warning he gives before he busies himself with making sure Dave is slick enough to take his bulge. "FUCK. Tight motherfucker, aren't you?"

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