paradiseblossoms | Text Test Post

Dave goes down hard, the wind knocked out of him, and by the time he gets it back to protest the rough treatment, he's starting to wonder just what Gamzee's up to. He's staring at the troll's back - not a bad view, really, although there are certainly better ones - and reaching out to scratch or something, when Gamzee's bulge starts to force it's way into him, and suddenly his hands aren't scratching, but gripping desperately at Gamzee's bony hips, and when the fuck did that happen?

It's a little distracting, that feeling, and so he has to work kind of hard to focus on what Gamzee's saying, on the slight shift of muscles as the troll turns to look at him, and even then, it takes a moment for Dave to get it. He does, though, eventually - and it helps when he feels his hips buck up, trying to get Gamzee's bulge deeper in him, faster, because this slow burn is driving him mad, and the motion forces him to go sliding into Gamzee's nook, and -

"Ssshit," Dave hears himself say, and it comes out all slurred and almost unintelligible, because this is too much. There's that familiar, full sensation building in him from Gamzee's bulge, and his dick is sliding into that gripping, warm wetness, and that sound Gamzee just made, the one Dave can't even put a name to because humans don't make noises like that, they don't need a word to describe it - he's panting, he can hear himself, but he can't stop it, no more than he can release the death grip he's got on Gamzee's hips, like he's desperately trying to ground himself in the midst of all this.

Which, coincidentally, is exactly what he's doing.

Gamzee's entire universe narrows to him in Dave, Dave in him. It's exquisite. It's torture. There's nothing but small movements between them, too intimately connected to move more without bringing the other with them. His hips work in tiny movements that would be delicate, except it's not. It wouldn't be without that tie. It's all he can manage as his bulge writhes and undulates the rest of the way into Dave, and Dave's dick fills him so motherfucking full at the very same time. His hips will have bruises in the exact shape of Dave's splayed fingers tomorrow, but he can only feel the grip as a part of the whirl of sensation threatening to send him exploding into space.

It's as if his voice tries to make up for how his body can't manage moving like every instinct urges. More alien sounds of pleasure burst forth from among the more familiar moans and cries and curses. Once he's settled, as deep as bulge and dick can get, he's nearly shaking without how intensely he feels. Filled and filling, body a-quiver around Dave's dick and bulge writhing so enthusiastically it's nearly doing corkscrews in that furnace heat that clutches him so perfectly. Not base deep, because no position could manage that, but the base is tucked against the fleshy sack Dave calls his balls, and their movements make that contact and pressure feel very nice.

He takes a deep, ragged breath, back in an arch with head tipped back and mouth open to allow him to pant. "MotherFUCK, Dave. Dave-- FUCK, DAVE."

If there is a verbal equivalent to keysmashing, that's the sound Dave is making right now - has been making for the past few moments. Because it's not enough that he's got his dick in Gamzee's nook and the troll's bulge pressed into him, it's not enough that Gamzee's nook is pulsing and gripping and fuck, it's not enough that Gamzee keeps making those sounds - no. None of that is enough, because Gamzee's bulge has apparently decided that now is the best time to go fucking hogwild in Dave's ass, and shit that is quite possibly the most amazing thing Dave has ever felt.

Sex with Tavros is great - mindblowing, even, sometimes - but this is just...different. This is hot and hard and urgent in a way that sex with Tavros never is. That writhing is so good it's almost painful, Dave thinks for a moment that he might just come apart at the seams from the way it fills him up, and his mind goes oddly fuzzy around the edges.

He might be cursing, or pleading, or something, but fuck if he knows. His world seems to have narrowed to those two points of contact, his dick and Gamzee's bulge, and whatever's spilling from his mouth, he's not in control of it anymore. His hips twitch and roll in shallow waves, rocking him into Gamzee and then back onto the troll's bulge, and fuck, this isn't going to last very long.

"Fffuck, Gamz. Gamz, I-I can't -"

Gamzee can't even form words anymore, aside from "Dave" and "fuck" and they are like dashes of flavor amid all the sounds. He sounds more desperate and needy with each passing second, hovering right on the edge as he moves with Dave. It's urgent, wild, and somehow perfectly in sync, like the best mixed song in history of ever.

Somewhere, he's aware that this could be dragged out, soft and slow and the sweetest torture, but that would be too motherfucking red. It's better like this, small desperate movements, and hungry sounds, and hands gripping at each other like they're the last things in the universe and they'll break apart and drift alone forever if they let go.

He can feel the pleasure like the tide, drawing out deeper and deeper, beaching the fish and the seadwellers, leaving behind only a sense of something is coming. Soon. And fuck, the wave will be the biggest motherfucking wave he's ever experienced.

Somehow - somehow, Dave's not even sure when it happened, or how, or why - one of Dave's hands has found it's way off Gamzee's hips and onto the troll's bony hand, gripping hard enough that he can feel those oddly thin and delicate bones digging into his skin.

There's nothing in his mind anymore - it's gone completely blank, completely taken over by the desire burning through him, by the heat coiling at the base of his dick. All he wants now is for that coil to snap, and it makes his grip tighten on Gamzee's hip, tugging the troll as hard as he can into those short, sharp thrusts of his hips.

His rhythm falters, suddenly - that's always the end of it. That place his body finds where it can't even maintain a beat anymore, his heart and his breathing all out of sync, not even syncopated, but just wild, and his hips stutter up off the ground once, twice, all the muscles in his body drawing tight - and then he's gone, his nails digging into Gamzee's skin, a shuddering moan spilling from his mouth, his back arching to a nearly impossible angle.

The way Dave squeezed his hand was an odd feeling, but a good one. He squeezed back, aware of the bones beneath warm flesh--were all humans so hot-blooded?--and the sensation added to the sea of sensation that was coming closer by the second.

As it gets closer he whines out Dave's name, again and again, only aware of those movements Dave makes and how motherfucking good it feels. His pitch rises, and his volume too, as he starts to feel that rhythm fall apart. He's lost, adrift, his own rhythm faltering at the same time, with nothing to match. Then he feels Dave come. Feels that rush of being filled and the way Dave's body clenches and quivers around him. It's perfect and wonderful and he wails his pleasure to the ceiling.

A few moments, a few movements, later, the wave crests. He feels it build and it's like standing on the dry seabed while the wave towers above him impossibly high. It even pulls the breath right out of him and then it falls. It's like being swept away, with a force more immense than life crashing down around and through him. Gamzee only manages a thin, alien sound of pleasure, too out of breath for much else, as he shakes and stiffens, releasing his genetic material in a flood of indigo.

For a moment, it's like everything is frozen in time, and then he feels completely turned to water, unable to hold himself up. All he can manage as Dave slips out of him is to put a hand back so he doesn't come crashing down like a stone dropped into the sea. He ends up half on Dave, breathing heavily and staring blankly up while the aftershocks rock through him in waves.

Dave has to just lie there, mostly ignoring the lanky troll sprawled all over him, as his body finds its beat again. It's his heart first, which is good - his chest aches a little, like his heart had skipped a few beats - thudding away quickly, but steadily beneath his ribcage.

His breaths follow - sort of. They hitch, every now and then, as little shocks of pleasure jolt up his spine, as his body tries to remember how to exist without fading away into a haze of pleasure - and it doesn't help that he can feel Gamzee's indigo bleeding out of him, pooling on the ground beneath his thighs. But for the most part, his breaths come in short, sharp - but rhythmic - pants.

There's pain, a bit - but certainly nothing like the last time. The small, stinging scratches have all pretty well healed already, which just leaves Dave with those few deeper punctures from where Gamzee gripped too hard, and a not-entirely-unpleasant ache between his legs. All in all, Dave thinks, taking a mental account of his body in the aftermath, not too shabby. And pretty well worth it.

He can't stay here, he knows. Afterglow is too red, too...something. Coherent thoughts are proving rather difficult. But his muscles don't seem to want to cooperate just yet, so he stays where he is, on his back, half under Gamzee.

Gamzee is aware of it being a little too red too, but he's still made of water. The remains of his bones feel like they're nothing more than stirred up sediment by the waves. Waves still rocking him, and his body shudders to their rhythm. All he can hear in his hearducts is a rushing like water, and all he can taste is sweet salt that he knows is blood but can't parse as anything other than the sea right now. Everything is the tides and swells of the ocean.

He's full of wondrous little aches, like fresh bruises, and the rasp of a throat dry from the yelling he did in his pleasure. Funny how he can be water and dry at the same time, but it doesn't matter. Hardly anything does. He's just floating, soft and pleasant, awash in sensation. There is in the back of his mind that he did what he promised. Filled Dave full up with his color and stained at his insides with it. His now, and isn't that a pleasant, smug thought? Yes, yes it is. He wants to up and say that. Tell Dave how it is and glory in it.

"Dave. Fuck." Well, maybe in a little while, when his voice doesn't sound wobbly like he's hearing it from underwater.

"Yeah," Dave says, his voice low and raspy and drawling in a way it hasn't been in a very long time. He's usually careful to keep most of his Southern twang in check, bringing it out only when it's ironically appropriate - though it tends to slip out when he gets tired, and he doesn't ever remember being this tired before.

"Yeah, that's pretty much what just happened here."

Slowly, he starts to struggle to get up. This is all just too...much for him, and suddenly all he wants is to go find Tavros and curl up somewhere. Maybe have another one of those amazingly fantastic showers - although they spent a while after that avoiding each others' eyes whenever Karkat started ranting about someone using all the hot water.

Oh, oh fuck, does that drawl in Dave's voice do funny, wonderful, tingly things to his stomach. Gamzee shivers and groans at the sound of it, the only thing preventing him from starting back up into arousal being how utterly exhausted he is. When Dave moves, though, he does struggle to at least not be sprawled over the human anymore. He ends up on his stomach, legs sprawled out and looking utterly debauched. His nook aches in that well fucked but now empty way that just makes him want to arch up and find something to rub against. Massage until he's feeling warm and utterly boneless again. He can't help wriggling a little at the thought, or the little chirrup that escapes when he feels the faint tickle of Dave's come starting to dribble out of him. He blinks up at Dave with smug appreciation, eyes flickering half-closed as he voices the echoes of pleasure.

"Motherfucking marvelous. ALL FULL UP WITH MY COLOR, dripping it all out of you. ALL DOWN THOSE FINE LEGS. How does it feel, Dave?" He drawls Dave's name out, like he's savoring the sound.

He's right, of course - as soon as Dave manages to struggle to his feet, he's bleeding indigo everywhere, streams of it running down his pale legs to soak into the fabric of his pants. Fuck, all this shit needs to get washed or something. And what's worse is that Dave likes it - likes that sensation of being filled, of being fucked, being used as a troll's personal goddamn pail.

There's something so fucked up about all of this. And yet - he answers, and as he does, he knows that he'll be back for more.

"Well, to tell you the truth," he says, and that drawl's mostly back under control again, though some of his vowels still want to drag themselves out, "it's pretty all right."

Pants are tugged back over bony hips, shades are readjusted. "But it was also over pretty damn fast, don't you think? Lose control of yourself a little bit? I mean, fuck - I had you screaming on the floor last time, I thought you'd give at least as good as you got."

He's lying through his teeth, but fuck if he's going to admit that he'd never even considered that anything could feel as good as what they just did.

"Don't motherfucking lie, Dave. IT'S BEING ALL UNBECOMING." Gamzee stretches, and turns it into a move that would make a contortionist jealous as he oozes to his feet. The stretching helps remind his bones and muscles that they're not water, and he manages not to fall back over, though he does sway like he just got off of a storm-tossed ship. He emphasizes the sway though, as he stalks that tiny distance towards Dave, naked as the day he was hatched.

"You went off all like a motherfucking rocket, soon as my bulge was all up full in you. GRIPPING ONTO ME LIKE YOU WERE BEING ALL FALLING OFF THE MOTHERFUCKING EDGE IF YOU DIDN'T. Full up with the best motherfucking bruises from your hands." He presses his fingers over the marks on his hips, already starting to purple with angry indigo under gray skin.

He lowers his voice to the most intimate whisper he can manage. "You're already up and thinking it was the best fucking thing and aching all for me again."

That's one thing he has to admire about Gamzee - the way the lanky motherfucker moves. He's so used to Tav and his clanking metal legs, his ridiculously oversized horns, that watching Gamzee move like that, like water, sends a little shiver down Dave's spine.

Those indigo bruises forming on Gamzee's hips aren't helping matters, either.

Dave stands his ground, staring through his shades with his usual lack of expression, and shrugs. "I could go another round, maybe, sure. But from the way your legs don't want to hold you up, I'm guessing you might need a while, so maybe I'll take a raincheck on that offer."

"YOU TELLING AT ME YOU DON'T THINK I CAN MANAGE? Is that what you're kicking the implications of?" Suddenly he isn't swaying anymore, with an expression that's hungry and wild, like a starving jungle cat presented with prey. Gamzee knows he'll regret rising to the bait later, but fuck, he isn't going to let Dave imply he's weak. The adrenaline of the challenge buoys him up and he knows he can push himself just a little bit farther, if only to have Dave on his back and screaming his name.

"DON'T MOTHERFUCKING UNDERESTIMATE ME. I'll be putting you right the fuck back on the floor, what flat with your back all arched and throat being all raw from my name." He licks his lips, feeling his heart start to race again.

Dave takes a minute to consider that, but the decision is pretty easy. Things have gotten back to a place he's comfortable with, more black than red, and that makes all the difference.

To be completely honest, he doesn't know if he can go again, but that doesn't really seem like a relevant point right now. He's a teenage boy, after all, and he's gone more than once with Tavros before - he doesn't think it'll take him any longer than it'll take Gamzee to be good again.

But he's sure as hell not going to make it easy. As far as he's concerned, that last round was a draw, so he's still ahead - by...whatever fucking weird scoring system he's using for this.

That little flick of Gamzee's tongue against his lips draws Dave's attention, and with no warning, he slides into Gamzee's space and seals their mouths together, kissing the troll aggressively.

Gamzee is ready for that kiss, the taste of Dave's lips on the tip of his tongue from that lick already, and joins it as fluidly as if he and Dave shared that thought to go for it. He doesn't at all bother to keep track of his teeth, wanting that bloody taste, and focuses on plundering Dave's mouth with his.

While his mouth is busy, he's hooking his fingers into Dave's pants, all but ripping the button off in his hurry to get them from in between him and Dave's skin. He slides their bare chests together though, thrilling in how his skin rubs against Dave's. Fuck, the human is so soft. Almost silky to feel. And yet, so motherfucking strong and skilled under that softness, and fuck, if that isn't something that turns him on so impossibly hard.

He's going to have Dave screaming as he's fucked this time, even if there's that thread of temptation, because motherfuck does he love how that dick feels stretching his nook open like it belongs to it. But Gamzee is learning what turns Dave on, and apparently he loves those sounds that humans just can't make. So he starts making them without holding back, chirrups and other alien sounds of pleasure right into the kiss, striking up a little motherfucking chorus right for Dave.

Oh, shit - was he worried he couldn't go again? Because those noises fucking answer that question, and Dave is suddenly, almost painfully hard again. He's got this terrible feeling that Gamzee's doing it on purpose, that he's figured out the one, surefire way to get Dave raring to go - but, hell. Dave's learned a few troll weaknesses, too.

So he breaks the kiss, blood dripping from his mouth, and reaches up to grab a handful of Gamzee's wild hair. He grips, tugs hard, bringing Gamzee's head around to where he can wrap his lips around the tip of one of those long, curved horns and suck, hard.

Mm, yes, he can feel Dave hardening against him, and rocks and writhes to give Dave the friction he's probably craving, all the while continuing those sounds Dave so likes. But then, the kiss breaks and--

Oh fuck, that wasn't intentional, but the sound was just as inhuman and full of needy pleasure, so it doesn't hurt his cause any. Gamzee twists a little, and makes that sound again right into Dave's chest--he would have done it into his ear, but even he can't make his horns bend. But this is an opportunity, isn't it? He hasn't had much chance to pay attention to the human's body yet, because they were too busy getting down to the meat of the fucking, but since Dave is so nicely sucking on his horns... Well, he's not entirely sure what those little nubs on Dave's chest are--trolls don't have them, but maybe they're some equivalent to the remains of their wiggler-legs?--but they're just the right size to take one into his mouth and suck firmly. There's a little bit of blood in his mouth still, and that combined with the taste of Dave's skin makes him chirrup again and again. He digs his claws into Dave's hips while he does it, intentionally mirroring the bruises Dave left on him and groans out something that might be Dave's name, but muffled by Dave's skin.

Oh motherfuck, all of Dave is delicious and sexy. His bulge is writhing again, and he's dripping wet with arousal. Dave might well end up being the death of him, but fuck, he'll die well satiated.

Edited 2012-01-23 23:23 (UTC)

Oh. So, apparently, male nipples are good for something. Dave groans around the horn in his mouth, tightening his grip on Gamzee's hair. He reaches down with the other hand to grip Gamzee's slick bulge, running his long fingers over the bumps on the surface, pinching the tip with every upstroke.

His hips rock forward, and that's all right, too - there's plenty of fluid down there to keep the friction to pleasant level, and he readjusts his grip so that he's stroking both Gamzee's bulge and his own dick, letting Gamzee's bulge writhe against him and wrap around him however it wants to.

Gamzee hears that groan, feels it, and keeps up the sucking. He breaks it up by lapping in long strokes with his tongue and carefully nicking the area around it with just the very tips of his teeth before sucking again. After a while though, he's aware that he should be paying equal attention and so he pulls his head away just enough to reach the other side and give it the same attention.

It's hard to pay attention with that wonderful hand on his bulge, and the feel of it wrapping on its own accord around Dave's dick. Gamzee lets loose a high, needy sound, rocking his hips hard forward while his bulge curls tightly and ripples with contractions, almost milking Dave's dick all of its own accord. Fuck, that feels so good, but he wants to be doing the fucking, so he bites down on his lip in an effort to... he doesn't even know.

But the indigo looks so nice on Dave's skin, and Gamzee suddenly wants to drench him in swirls of that color. He pulls his mouth across Dave's chest in a sloppy kiss, hissing in pleasure as the cut stings and indigo streaks.

Dave gives a hiss of his own, finally pulling his mouth away from sucking on Gamzee's horn, as saliva and blood mingle and drip over the tiny teeth marks the troll has left on his skin.

He keeps his hand working, on Gamzee's bulge wrapped around his dick, his grip slick and slippery and just right, and he uses the other hand, still tangled in Gamzee's hair, to pull the troll's head away from his chest.

"Gonna have to do better than that," he murmurs against Gamzee's lips, licking up a bit of indigo with just the lightest touch of tongue, before he dips his head and seals his mouth over Gamzee's neck, sucking and biting as hard as he can.

"JUST GETTING--fuck--STARTED. Motherfucker. SCAR ME UP. Leave your motherfucking mark on me." He hisses that into Dave's ear, along with a pleased noise as he feels Dave's mouth working on his neck. Human ears are cute, he decides, as he lavishes kisses and licks and harsh panting against it. And Dave can hear even better like this, so all the better.

Then on a dark, black whim, he carefully lines just two his teeth--the longer fangs-- up on either side of the lobe and drives them together until the points scrape. A nice little hole to tongue at, and more blood to taste. "Should stick something through there. DECORATE THAT LITTLE MOTHERFUCKER ALL UP IN HERE."

But he's not done, oh no, because at the same time he slides one hand down against the base of his bulge and over his nook to gather the fluid. He can't hold the smirk back, wrapping an arm tight around Dave's back and rocking against that hand on his bulge, but he's sure it's too late for Dave to do much about it. He slides his newly slick fingers along Dave's ass, aiming to get a pair nice and deep in Dave all at once before he can protest.

Dave jerks, with a soft cry - more of surprise than pain - as Gamzee's fangs pierce his earlobe, and he reaches up with one hand to grab at it in disbelief.

"Did - did you just fucking pierce my ear?" he asks incredulously, and even as he asks the question, he's already wondering whether or not it's ironic enough to wear a small hoop through the hole. Too hipster? Hard to say. Maybe he'll just have to give it a shot and see how he feels about it.

He doesn't have much time to think about that, though, because he's suddenly being crushed against Gamzee's lanky body, his dick being sandwiched between indigo-slick stomachs - one gray and one peach - and then there are long, slender fingers slipping into him.

He can't help the moan - the intrusion is hardly unwelcome, since he's already been stretched by Gamzee's bulge, and he's still slick from Gamzee's genetic fluid. His hips suddenly begin to buck forward against Gamzee's, then back into the troll's fingers, out of his control.

"Dress you all motherfucking up in here, what like a highblood. CANDY RED ALL MOTHERFUCKING CLASSY LIKE THAT, WICKED CONTRASTY. Kicking those juxtapositions." Not that Gamzee cares about jewelry for himself even though he could easily get away with it if he wanted, but he likes the idea of dolling Dave up like a fancy highblood, when he wears nothing. Put his color all full with pretty decorations all over the human, along with his marks. The thoughts are immensely pleasing and he chirps his pleasure away while he tongues at the hole he just made.

But that moan is delicious, and Gamzee just has to claim that wicked mouth in a kiss. He groans into it, stretching and flexing his fingers inside Dave and adding a third to give him a little more stretch. He works them deep, falling into a good rhythm of thrust and stroke, while chuckling and moaning at how eagerly Dave's hips move. He exerts a little downward pressure with his other hand and body, bending his knees and trying to bring them down to the ground. The thought of Dave laid out like a buffet just for him lights him all up with the sweetest pleasure.

"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.

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