Gamzee kisses rough and harsh, grating teeth against her bottom lip and wrapping his long fingers tight around her hips. He tugs at her shirt, pulls at the hem until she breaks the kiss and lets him take it off, fumbles with her bra strap and takes that off too. He comes back into the kiss, one hand on her face now, gripping her jaw, and the other coming up to grasp at her breast, squeezing.

He stops.

He pulls back, a look of confusion plain on his painted face. She stands there, stunned, as the hand on her jaw moves down to her other breast. He squeezes against.

"Honk?" he says uncertainly, looking at her questioningly. She looks back at him, equally confused.

"What?"

"They don't honk?"

Her jaw drops a little.

"No, they don't honk Gamzee. Now get back to kissing me." she says, anger plain in her tone and stance. It is slightly ruined by the fact that she is topless and his hands are still on her boobs.

"Honk. HONK. Honk. HONK." he says, and pulls his hands back. He crosses his arms and sits down. Just like that.

"THEY DON'T MOTHERFUCKING HONK. How's a clown supposed to handle that shit? HOW THE MOTHERFUCK IS A CLOWN SUPPOSED TO UP AND DEAL WITH THAT FUCKERY, TERECITA?" he says/screams.

She shakes her head.

"Whatever, Gamzee. Come see me when you get over the boob thing."

She grabs her bra, puts in on, tugs on her shirt and walks off, huffing a little.

Fucking clowns.