"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.
If shit keeps up like this, Dave might have to take up smoking - he thinks maybe there would be something grounding about that, about the feeling of smoke filling his lungs, of the deep breaths he's taking to try and combat the tight feeling in his chest.
He yawns, huge and jaw-cracking, and finally leaves the earring alone, figuring he'll get used to it eventually. He glances sideways at Gamzee, not bothering to turn his head, but just sliding his eyes over, and there might be just the slightest hint of red peeking out from the sides of his shades.
Then, with a series of resounding cracks, he sits up and begins to stretch himself out, twisting and turning and arching into all kinds of impossible-looking positions, making soft little noises that are half pleasure and half pain.
Gamzee makes a sound that's more of an exhale obstructed by a full body shudder. That hint of red is intriguing and he vows to get a good look at Dave's eyes the next time. Everything about the human catches and holds his attention right now. He watches in appreciation with all his attention on the stretching.
But once Dave's finished, he stretches himself, upping the ante to near contortionist proportions. It's a little bit of a challenge, and also a little bit of showing off, but the whole time he's rumbling his approval at Dave and making similar noises of pleasure-pain. He's so marvelously sore, and he'll carry those painful reminders until the next time they come together in an epic clash.
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branchandroot
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Date: 2012-02-08 01:45 pm (UTC)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.
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Date: 2012-02-09 07:56 am (UTC)He yawns, huge and jaw-cracking, and finally leaves the earring alone, figuring he'll get used to it eventually. He glances sideways at Gamzee, not bothering to turn his head, but just sliding his eyes over, and there might be just the slightest hint of red peeking out from the sides of his shades.
Then, with a series of resounding cracks, he sits up and begins to stretch himself out, twisting and turning and arching into all kinds of impossible-looking positions, making soft little noises that are half pleasure and half pain.
no subject
Date: 2012-02-09 03:52 pm (UTC)But once Dave's finished, he stretches himself, upping the ante to near contortionist proportions. It's a little bit of a challenge, and also a little bit of showing off, but the whole time he's rumbling his approval at Dave and making similar noises of pleasure-pain. He's so marvelously sore, and he'll carry those painful reminders until the next time they come together in an epic clash.