In Need of a Companion

by sushisama

Firefly AU. Tavros is a servant of Eridan Ampora, a Registered Companion. One night, Eridan tells Tavros to take his place so he can go out. Tavros only has to service one client while Eridan is gone. Enter, Gamzee Makara. GamTav.

Title. In Need of a Companion

Authour. ~sushisama~

Fandom. Homestuck

Pairing. Gamzee Makara/Tavros Nitram

Warnings. Smut. Not even plot, really just smut. And a hint, a hint of fluff. Also, sober!Gamzee.

Disclaimer. Homestuck belongs to Andrew Hussie. Firefly belongs to Joss Whedon.

Notes. So, this is a Firefly AU that is essentially PWP. Because, smut. This isn't nearly as good as my circusstuck fic, but it wanted to be written before I could get back to work on anything else.

Notes Two. A bit about the setting, I'm going as the humans came to the reaches of the universe centuries before and came upon the trolls. Through generations of breeding, the colours of blood have gone down the lines, but the horns haven't.

::*~~*::

Your name is Tavros Nitram and you are doing your best not to move much as your friend Eridan (well, master technically, but he's nice to you and the closest thing you've ever had) applies make up to your face. It's the first time you've ever worn any of the stuff, and the smell of it is making your nose twitch.

"Eridan, does it have to be so... um.. thick?" You're about to sneeze, but he holds a finger to your nose to stop you. You flinch, he's pressing on your septum where your servant ring is upturned into your nostrils.

"Yes, it does," he says, a snap to his voice. "It's your own fault, blushin' the wway you do. Wwe're tryin' to convvince someone you're me, after all."

"I-I really don't think this is, um, going to work. Who would think I'm, umm, a highblood?" You were a filthy brownblood, after all. At least, that's what your masters call you. After living your whole live in servitude, it had become easy to believe. "W-why can't you just stay? This is, uh, your job anyway."

"As much as I lovve bein' a Companion," he says with a hint of sarcasm, "there are things I'd rather be doin'. And tonight is one of the only nights I can... see to somethin'." He puts down the jar of foundation he's been applying to your face and picks up a tray of eye shadows. "So, wwe're goin' have to wwork at makin' you a suitable replacement for me."

When he mentions replacement, you feel the blush coming to your cheeks. Eridan doesn't comment, so he must have put enough on to hide your copper shade. "Eridan, I really, really don't want to, uh, do... this. I don't think I can... you know..."

He takes your chin with his thumb and forefinger, roughly tilting your head so he could glare into your face. "It is not that bad. I do this almost evvery fuckin' night, and it's not that bad. Just lay back and take it." He continues to hold your face as he starts applying the eyeshadow. It's not a heavy colour, just an indigo shade lightly on the edge of your eyelid. It's supposed to make your eyes 'pop,' as he says. You reach up out of instinct to rub at your eyes (these contacts itch so much, you can't wait to take them out), and he bats your hand away.

"Stop touchin' evverythin' already. And don't scratch your head!" He pulls your hand away from your scalp, where you were trying to get to the itch under the wig. All of this work to make you someone you're not, you can't stand it, but you also have no place to say 'no.' You're the servant, and you have to serve.

Even if it means serving someone else for the night.

You shudder. You've never envied Eridan's line of work, being a Companion. Being a servant wasn't fun, granted, but being nothing more than a fancy whore didn't sound any better. Well, you knew there was more to it than that, but it all ended with the same thing: he was bedded by different people every night. And tonight he was making you take his place with some person you've never met and will never see again.

It disgusted you, but he had you in a bind.

On your right middle finger was a gaudy piece of jewelry, an amethyst ring that was known in the Ampora family. You were wearing it to convince the client of who you were, but also because it left a burn mark when he put it on. Something in the metal of the band reacted to anyone's skin that wasn't part of the heritage, leaving the singe. Eridan told you if you didn't do this, he would tell his father your tried to steal his ring, which would get you many more years added to your debt. And you still had hope that you'd be free one day, no matter how farfetched it was.

"There." He put down the compact before sitting back to admire his work. "You look passable as a Highblood. Not as good lookin' as me, of course, but it should do to fool the client."

"A-are you sure he doesn't, uh, know what you look like?"

"His father wwas the one to make the transaction, said it wwas some sort of surprise." He shrugged. He stood up from the couch to momentarily go to the other room where his clothes were kept. You could hear rustling as he went through the walk-in closet, and then he's back with an armful of clothing that he throws at you.

"Now, put that all on, get presentable. You remember evverythin' I told you, right? About small talk, how to pour the tea, wwhat to avvoid-"

"I've, uh, watched you do enough tea ceremonies to know how to pour the tea," you tell him. "And I-I think I've got the small talk down. I guess..."

"Just don't fuck this up, Nitram." He puts away everything he used to make you look more 'presentable'. "If you do, I swwear, I'll get fivve years added."

You give him a shaky nod. "I can't guarantee, uh, the best. You know this is my... um, first-"

"First times are meaningless," he cuts you off. "You'll find that out soon enough." He makes his way to the door, hand already on the knob. He turns to you as an after thought, "Best of luck, Lowblood." And then he's gone.

You sigh. You really don't want to do this.

::*~~*::

You're pouring the tea when there's a knock on the door. You take a deep breath, count to three, and let it out. You sit up straight, laying your hands (right over the left) in your lap, and clear your throat quietly.

"Come..." That comes out too quiet. Eridan told you to have some authority, but not a lot. "Come in," you say louder.

The door opens slowly and the client takes his time showing himself. He's tall and lanky, and his dark purple hair is a mess a top his head. He's wearing only baggy pants and a vest with strips going across it. You're taking him in from toe to head, and when you focus on his face, you can't help the shiver that goes through you. He's wearing face paint, clown face paint.

Oh, gog, he's a Subjuggulator, why didn't Eridan think that was important to tell you!?

He's grinning when he lays his indigo eyes on you. "Hey, little mother fucker," he says in a deep voice.

"Um- I mean. Hello, Mister Makara," you say as formally as you can.

"None of that polite shit," he tells you, approaching you slowly. You scoot over, giving him room to sit down next to you. It was something Eridan told you to do, make it seem you were saving the spot for him. He sits down, keeping a distance between you. "Mother fucker can call me Gamzee."

You were a little taken back by his speech. You weren't expecting a Highblood to speak so profanely, but it wasn't your place to say anything. "All right, Mi-Gamzee." You find each response hard to make, having to control your stutter.

"What's your name, mother fucker?"

Is he going to use that term all night?

"T... Eridan."

He raises an eyebrow before shrugging. "All right, Eridan." He's still grinning, and you do your best to return the smile, though you're sure it's weak at best.

"W... would you like some tea?" you ask, offering him one of the cups.

"Sure thing, mother fucker." He takes the proffered beverage, and sips on it. You wait for him to take two gulps before you take a cup yourself and start drinking. The test is sweet, Eridan told you the name of this herbal tea, but you've forgotten it in your determination to remember everything else, and you really hope he doesn't ask what kind it is.

You two sit in silence for a moment, as you've forgotten how to speak. You know you're supposed to be making small talk, but how is that supposed to come naturally to you? You only speak when spoken to, and you've never had anyone but Eridan to really have conversations with, and he was a horrible example of how to speak to people. (How did he get so many clients? Oh, gog, nevermind, you don't want to know.)

"How many years you got up on you, Eridan?"

You catch yourself right before you jump when his voice breaks the quiet. "I'm twenty."

"Really?" You nod. He weighs this information for a minute. "I'm twenty mother fucking three. It's a great number."

"What, uh... what makes it great?" you ask, trying again at a smile.

"Means this mother fucker got past twenty-two!" he exclaims with a loud laugh. You can't help the chuckle that comes out at his enthusiasm.

His smile turns to something a little warmer, no longer that big grin, and you find it easier to smile honestly. He starts chatting with you, and you find it simpler to speak when he's the one starting the conversations. He asks you about different things, like how you like living on a ship, what worlds you've seen, the kinds of people you've met, if you've seen any pure blood humans. The questions are a bit tough for you to answer, but you remember a lot of the stories Eridan's told you over the years and fill in the blanks with your imagination. You try to ask him similar questions, but he deflects them and asks more about you.

You're starting to relax as the two of you talk, almost completely forgetting what it is you were supposed to be doing. He seems in no rush to get to business, which you don't know how you feel about. On one hand, you're glad to be avoiding the 'main event' say to speak, but another part of you just wants to get it over. And him being nice doesn't help at all. You were hoping it was some old man that would be over and done with you, not really get to know you, just want to use you and be on his way. Making this so personal as you two were, it just made it awkward thinking of what's to come.

Your stutter slips into your speech as you two spoke, but he doesn't comment on it. In fact, he smiles more when it comes out, and you find yourself blushing at his attention. After a while, you notice he's scooted closer to you, laying a hand next to yours on the couch. You thought about reaching out, touching him, if he'd want that, but you're not sure if you should.

Gog, when did you start considering what he wanted?

"So, um... can I ask why your dad, uh, set this up?"

His smile drops a little bit. He looks away, toward the tea set on the table, his brows furrowed. When he looks back at you, his smile is small. He leans in a bit, putting his hand on top of yours. "You know that mother fucking stuff our ancestors all up and slept in?"

"Sopor?"

"Yeah, that shit. You know you can still get that stuff?"

"Isn't it... um, well, illegal?"

He nods. "But, man, that shit was something else. Something full of mother fucking miracles." He picked up his tea cup with his free hand, taking a sip from it. "But... needed to get off it. Mother fuckers might be awesome and shit, but not exactly good for you, right?"

You make a sound of acknowledgment, nodding for him to continue.

"So, well, this mother fucker tried a couple of times to be good and shit, but... that's stuff's powerful." He set the cup back down, frowning again. "So my old man, he up and says to me, I get straight, after one full year, he'll give me anything I ask for."

You hadn't noticed you were leaning in until you feel his breath wash over you. He smells of paint and the tea and something else, something metal and tangy... "What... what did you ask for?"

"A mother fucking companion." He grins, something odd, like there's a joke you're missing.

"R-really?"

"Yeah, but good ol' pops," he chuckles darkly, "took me mother fucking literally. Signed me up for a Registered Companion, when that wasn't what I asked for."

You blink at him, not sure what he means. Then it clicks. "You just wanted a... friend?"

A smile crosses his lips, a sad one. "That's all any mother fucker wants. But my dad? Keeps me all locked up and shit. I didn't even really get out much as a little mother fucker. Can you imagine that? Little baby Subjuggulator, not even allowed to go and fight with his other mother fucking soldiers."

You knew Subjuggulators were the main fighting force of the Alliance and their battle with the Independents. They started young, or so the rumours has said, and now you know them to be true.

He stares at you for a moment, and you shrink under his gaze. You want to turn away, hide your face, but you know you shouldn't. You have small smile on your lips, though, because you're thinking, Maybe he won't do anything to me. He just wants a friend, maybe we'll just talk all night?

"Do you know why Subjuggulators wear face paint, bro?"

The question catches you off guard. "I know a few things I've heard, but I don't know for sure..."

"Back in the mother fucking day, when the Alliance was a whole bunch of kingdoms impersonating old Earth, they took every mother fucking thing from them." He curls his fingers around your hand. His palm is cold. "And like back then, there were these fucking clowns and jesters that the kings kept for entertainment. And these mother fuckers, they got into everything, every working part of the parliament and the regents, everything. They were assassins and thieves and spies, and no mother fucking knew."

You're listening intently as he speaks, and he's tugging on your hand, until he's got his fingers interlaced with yours. "And then the war started all those mother fucking years ago, and those mother fuckers, because they knew everything about everything, they could get in with the higher ups, tell them things, convince the kings they were needed."

His other hand comes to rest on your cheek and his thumb rubs at the spot. "And we became the best mother fucking army anyone could want. That's how we keep those fucking Independents in their place. That's why we live in the mother fucking castles now, alongside of the kings." He grins, and his face is so close, it's making you nervous, you know you're blushing. His hand is moving, his fingers tracing your fake hairline. "That's why we were the face paint. In dedication to our miraculous ancestors."

"Um, Gamzee, this story is interesting and all, but... um... why are you telling me this?" You're fidgeting now. The only things holding you in place is his stare, his intent stare, and his dangerous smile.

"Because..." His fingers slide under the hem of the wig and pull, lifting off your scalp to reveal your mohawk. You blink at him several times, and you're sure the panic is written all over your face. "...no one knows mother fucking masks like Subjuggulators." He tosses the wig aside.

You swallow thickly. "H-how...?"

"Whoever did a bro's make up was awful at it. Knew your blood right away." He smirks smugly. His hand rests on the back of your neck, keeping you in place, even though you want to struggle, want to run away.

There was only one thing you could think of to do:

Beg for mercy.

"I'm sorry, Highblood, I'm so sorry, my master, he asked me to, I really didn't mean to-"

He put a finger to your lips, silencing you.

"What's your real mother fucking name?" He puts his hand on your cheek again. You barely register he's still holding your hand.

"T-Tavros..."

"Well, Tavros, why don't we up and try this again?" He leans back, taking his hands with him. "Got a wash basin 'round here, right? Get that mother fucker out, bring it to me." His voice is even and has a friendly hint to it. He's commanding, technically, but it still sounds like a request.

You nod before standing up to get the wash basin and a small hand towel. You walk back and set it on the table. He's watching your every movement, a small smile on his lips. He motions to the area on the floor, and you obediently kneel in front of him. He takes the towel from your hand and grips your chin in his fingers, tilting your head up. He dips the tip of the towel in the water, then starts at taking the paint off your face.

You're quiet as he works, getting all the make-up from your cheeks and forehead. You're happy to be rid of it, really, you hated wearing that stuff. You didn't feel like you.

"Close your mother fucking eyes," he says gently. You shut them and he wipes away the eyeshadow. "Must be some sort of fucking Companion trick, wear the colour of who you;re servicing..." he mutters. It sounds more like he's talking to himself, so you don't say anything back. "So, Eridan's your master, huh?"

You almost nod, then stop yourself. "Yes. My father and I needed help getting off one of the Outer Planets, and we got indentured to the Ampora family... There's more to it than that, but I was really young when it happened." When he's done, he puts the towel to the side then runs a hand down your somewhat moist face, making you shudder and sigh. "But, uh... my dad died about five years ago, so I..." You frown at the memory. Gamzee's hand on your face eases you, though. "I inherited his debt."

"How many years does a mother fucker have?"

"Last time Dualscar mentioned it... about... twenty years?"

"Might as well be a really fucking slave then."

You sigh. "It sucks, but... I'd rather it this way. At least I can pretend one day I'll get out."

He hums. He's staring at you again, that intense gaze you don't know what to think about. He tilts your face back again, and your throat is bared, and you start to panic. You think to struggle, especially when you feel his other hand ghosting up your throat and to your face. You flinch, and he makes some weird coo'ing sound, and you stop moving.

He traces a finger over your lips and moves up. You feel the digit in your nostril for one brief second and then your septum ring is being flipped down. You wince when one side hits your nasal cavity roughly, but it's nothing too bad. He pulls on it gently, and after a moment, you realise he's pulling you to him. You follow where he leads, which is to raise a little so you're eye-to-eye with him.

"So... those contacts, too?" You nod. "Think you can take those mother fuckers out without a mirror?"

"I-I can try..." You work at taking them out, something harder than you'd like without the aid of a reflective surface. It takes longer than you like, and it doesn't help that Gamzee keeps touching you all over, your face, your shoulders, your hands. He's gotten a lot more physical since the wig and make up was removed, but you supposed it was inevitable.

When you finally get them out, you blink up at him with amber eyes, and he smiles, taking your face in his hands.

"Now, isn't that better, mother fucker? Being all honest, fucking miracles." He leans in, rubbing his nose against yours. "Anything else that needs to be all up and removed?"

"Um... well, that's pretty much everything..."

"What about the mother fucking clothes?"

You blush. You don't want to think about removing those. "They're Eridan's."

"They should go, too, but some of that can wait." He runs his hands down your face to your shoulders, then fingers the buttons on the dress shirt you're wearing. "Except this. This should fucking come off now, mother fucker."

Your blush has spread to your pointed ears. When you two were talking like friends, you thought the night wouldn't end like this. Maybe you were wrong. "Do I... do I have to? I-I thought we were just... I mean, what we've been doing is nice..."

"It's been fucking miracles, Tavbro," he says, working on the buttons. He's got two of the five done, and he's going slowly. "But this is something that's got to happen. My father paid some good mother fucking money for this, and he'll know if I didn't have the balls to finish. He won't be happy if I didn't take my mother fucking gift."

You frown. "I-I see..." You look down, watching him unbutton your shirt.

"Come on, now, Tav." He leans forward so he can whisper in your ear, "There's no reason we both can't enjoy this. It can still be full of miracles."

You don't look up at him. You almost want to bury your face in his neck, his shirt, even his stomach, if it means you don't have to look him in the eyes. "Gamzee, this is... um... well..."

He finishes with the last button, then takes your face in his hands again, so he can make you look him in the eyes. "What is it, my brother?"

You take a deep breath, exhale, then speak. "I've never... um... I've never been with anyone..."

His eyes widened a bit at the admission. "Shit, really? Never?" You shake your head. He chuckles. "Guess this will be worth the mother fucking money, huh?"

You flinch away from him. You don't know what to think of his change in demeanor, but a part of you is yelling at yourself for not expecting it. He is a Highblood, after all. He might have been nice before, but he still only came here for one thing.

A small growl passes his lips. He grips your hair at the scalp and pulls you up to his face, a sneer meeting you. "I want to keep this all fucking nice and shit, Tavros. This can work." His eye twitches. He cocks his head to the side, giving it a shake. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "Sorry. It's just... shit. Look, it's weird up in this think pan of mine, since I haven't been on some mother fucking slime." He frowns as he lets go of your hair and you sink back down onto your knees.

You look up at him, but he's looking straight down at his chest. You can tell he's thinking about something, probably what to do next. You wonder if he's being honest, that his father wouldn't be happy if he came all this way and did nothing. Would he really know? Gamzee seemed to think so.

You lay your hands on his knees and lean up a bit. He raises his head, and amber and indigo meet.

"S-so... your dad would really be mad if you didn't...?"

He nods. "My dad... he's the mother fucking Grand Highblood. The fact he's put up with my sorry ass for so long still surprises me."

"The... the Grand Highblood?" You swallow. Gamzee was the son of the general of the Subjuggulators? No wonder he seemed out to fulfill his father's orders. You sigh. "You know... I... I have to do this, too." He cocks an eyebrow. "Eridan... If I don't make sure you... um, enjoy yourself, he's going to find a way to add more years to my debt."

He's eying you, an unreadable expression on his face. You glance away. Maybe you can turn this around. Maybe you can make this night not be miserable. Gamzee has been good so far, aside from the one outburst, and if you had to... maybe he'd make this bearable.

Sighing, you take his hands into yours and look him in the eyes again. "If... if we have to, then I guess, uh... we should make the best of it... right...?"

His expression is still blank. The gears in his head are turning, you can tell, but you're not sure in which way: toward the friendly Gamzee you've been talking to all night, or the hostile one you've just encountered.

He leans forward, his eyes not leaving yours. "Kiss me."

Your eyes go wide. "W-what?"

"Mother fucker wants to make the best of it, let's start with the basics." He pulls you forward by your intertwined hands, and the jerk making you miss the mark, landing on his cheek. You lean back for a second, just to get your bearings straight. He's trying to pull you to him again, and stay put. He growls.

"Just... Hold on." You lean forward to lay your lips on his softly. It's a slow motion, and you're just testing, seeing what it's like. You've never kissed anyone before, and this isn't really what it would be like. But then again, you always thought it would be special, not with some stranger you were being forced to sleep with.

Tonight was going to be a night of a lot of firsts.

He kisses back, moving against your lips. His hands are sliding your shirt off, and you want to stop him, but there's only so much control you can assume. He throws it to the side of the couch, and then his hands are feeling across your bare skin, his cold palms sending a shiver down your spine. He settles with one hand on your shoulder, the other on your cheek You fist the cloth of his vest loosely as he pushes forward to kiss harder.

You gasp when you feel his teeth nip at your upper lip. He takes the opening to slide his tongue into your mouth, and your first instinct is to bite the intruder, and you almost do, your teeth grazing the muscle, but he moans when you do, and you stop. You get a grip on yourself, opening your mouth a little more so he can continue exploring. It doesn't feel that bad, it actually feels kind of... nice.

So, this part of the night you could possibly like.

You move your tongue against his hesitantly, and he almost purrs into your mouth. You two finally pull away from each other when you need to breathe. Your fingers are still on his vest, fiddling with the buttons and straps.

"Do you want to take the mother fucker off?" he asks you, his mouth still hovering over your lips.

You nod slowly. He takes your wrists into his and leads you to the top button on the vest. You start unbuttoning it, slowly, and he smiles at your pace. As you work on it, he lays kisses on your forehead and cheek, then he grips your chin to give you another kiss on the lips as you get to the last button. You open up the vest, letting your fingers graze his chest. He seemed so skinny before, but you can feel the muscle of a well built soldier.

His tongue is in your mouth again, and it's getting easier for you to respond, playing with him as he gets more fervour into the kiss. He pulls you closer, a hand behind your head to pull you forward. Kneeling in front of him is starting to get uncomfortable, so you start to stand, if only to sit beside him on the couch, get more comfortable. He puts a hand on your shoulder, pushing you back down, breaking the kiss to stare at you.

"What is the little mother fucker think he's doing?" he asks.

"I-I just thought it would be more comfortable if I... um... sat next to you..."

He grins, laying a kiss on your cheek. "Stay right there, Tav. I like the mother fucker right where he's at."

You blush but nod, settling back on your knees like before.

He inspects you for a moment, taking in the sight of you on your knees in between his legs, and if you were to look straight ahead, it would be into his lap. You can only imagine the thoughts going through his head. You feel your face heat up.

"You know, for a brownblood, you're pretty mother fucking cute," he tells you, his fingers running along your face.

"T-thank you..." you mutter out.

"Too bad that mother fucker covered you up in all the junk." He tilts your head up and kisses the side of your mouth. "Does he normally hide you away?"

"Well, I am a servant... I'm supposed to stay out of the way... right?" You frown. You don't like staying out of the way, you wish you got to interact with more people, but Eridan didn't keep you around in public unless he had to.

It seems you have something in common with Gamzee.

"I don't know why he'd hide a cute mother fucker like you away." He pecks you on the lips, and you reach up to kiss him back. He pulls away, smiling. "I'd have this mother fucker on my arm, everywhere I had to go."

You know your face is completely tinted copper by his words. Why is he being so nice? You two are going to do this no matter what, he doesn't have to compliment you so much.

"Y-you don't have to say things like that..."

He shrugs. "Only saying it 'cause it's the fucking truth." He gives you another quick kiss. "Now, that mother fucking clock's ticking, isn't it?"

"O-oh, yeah, it is..." You thought maybe you could distract him a bit longer, but that didn't seem the case. He was resigned to do this. Technically, you had been, too, but that didn't stop you from trying. "Umm... I-I don't... what do you want me to, umm, do?"

He smirks. "I like things like this," he says, eying you on your knees. He puts his arms on the back of the couches and slouches a bit, putting you further in between his legs. "How about this, mother fucker?" He raises an eyebrow suggestively.

"I... I don't know, I've never..." You look down to your knees. "I don't know if I'll be good at... that..."

"Won't know unless mother fucker tries, right?" He runs a hand through your hair gently, a smile on his lips.

You look at him for a moment, deciding on what to do. You slide a hand along his chest, and it's just as cold as his hands are. He watches you, his smile appreciative. You bring a hand to the hem of his pants, tugging at the elastic hesitantly. His hand is still in your hair when you bend forward to lay a kiss on his hip, playing with the strands of your mohawk.

You take a deep breath. Might as well get this over with. You pull the front of his pants down, his half-alive member coming out. As if your face wasn't already on fire, it feels like you're about to explode. He tugs at your hair impatiently, and you know you need to go on with this, otherwise he might have another mood swing. You take the base in a hand and put your lips on the tip. He shudders at the contact.

You spend a few moments just kissing the tip and shaft, getting familiar with the feel of it. His is not any longer than yours, but it is thicker, sending a short wave of worry over you for later. You push it aside, taking his head completely into your mouth. He moans, rolling his head on the back of the couch. He's pushing your head down, trying to get you to move more, but you strain yourself against it.

You pull back, and look up at him right as he tilts his head to look at you. His brow furrows some. "Mother fucker, what do you-"

"L-let me do this at my, um, pace, o-okay?"

He regards you for a second before smirking. "Just get to it, mother fucker." He leans back again, watching you as you put him back in your mouth. You make your way down the shaft, such an odd feeling, and you have to go slow to make sure you can get all of it in. You look up occasionally, and he's got his head back again, making noises whenever you take him fully. You can't help but feel a little stirring in your own nether regions at the sight.

You start a pace, slow at first, going faster as you get more familiar with his shape in your mouth. You're not sure if you're doing it right, you think you've got too much spit in your mouth and you're being sloppy, but he's not telling you anything, and he's moaning. You grip the base, pulling up some, and he bucks his hips up. You pull away, gagged some by the action. You put your hands on his hips, trying to hold him in place as you get back to the pace you had.

"Fuck, Tavros," he groans above you. His hand is in your mohawk again, pulling lightly. When you look up at him again, he's looking down at you, his eyes half-lidded, but something feral is in his smile. "I'm mother fucking getting there," he tells you. "I want you all up and swallow it, brother."

You think your eyes are wide, because his smile turns wider, daring you to challenge him. You nod as well as you can, getting back to the task at hand... mouth, whatever. You work faster, bobbing your head up and down. He bucks up a few more times, and you catch his hips, keeping him from gagging you.

He growls, throwing his head back, and you feel him tense. He pulls on your hair, keeping you in place as he releases. You do your best to swallow it all, the odd taste of musk running over your tongue and down your throat. You can't get all of it, and some dribbles down your chin.

You wipe off the excess, and look up at him. His head is still back and he's panting. When he's caught his breath, he rolls his head forward to look at you.

"Come up here, brother," he commands you, his voice lazy. You stand up weakly, your knees aching from kneeling for so long. He puts his hands on your hips, pulling you forward so you're straddling his hips. He kisses you, not bothered by the taste of himself on your tongue. When he pulls back, he's smiling, nothing wild this time, just a small tug of his lips. "That was mother fucking miracles, Tav."

"I-I'm glad you liked it..." You're not looking at him when you speak. You're not ashamed of what just happened, not nearly as much as you thought you'd be, and that leaves you feeling unsure of yourself. Not to mention there's still a tug in your own pants, a response you weren't expecting.

"Hmm." He kisses your chin before letting you go. "Take off those mother fucking drawers of yours."

You nod before getting off his lap to do as he asked. You move slowly, and he makes an approving sound in the back of his throat as he watches you. You stand naked in front of him, covering yourself, and he's inspecting you, turning his head this way and that to get a better look. He puts a finger in the air, twirling it around, signifying you to turn around. You do so slowly, letting him see your backside. You're still for a moment, until you hear a chuckle.

You face him again, your face flushed. "W-what are you laughing at?"

"Nothing," he answers through a grin. "Just admiring the mother fucker in front of me." He takes your wrists and leads you back to his lap, so you're straddling him again. He's leaning in, his nose rubbing against yours. "So... want me to take care of that mother fucking problem of yours?"

"W-what problem...?"

His hand sneaks between your legs, giving your bulge a quick squeeze, making you squeal. "That problem."

You take a breath before nodding. "I... I would like that, yeah..."

He chuckles again. He grips your hips, lifting you up while he slides down the couch until your growing erection is at level with his mouth. He kisses the tip, making you gasp. He flicks his tongue along the backside, licking the precum off the tip before moving down the shaft. He nips at the head, and you hiss. He takes you in his mouth, snickering as he does, and it feels weird, but... good.

You put your hands in his hair, not really having another place for them. You moan as he's already making a steady rhythm, not nearly as hesitant as you were moments ago. He's using his teeth to graze along your length, and you can't help but buck your hips to get further into his mouth. He laughs around you, sending a chill down your spine, using your hips to help his rhythm, pulling away as he does, pushing back to make you two meet in the middle. It's unlike anything you've ever felt before, but the only thing you have to compare it to is your hand, and this warm heat is years better.

As he goes, the fingers of his left hand dance along to your backside, resting on your lower back. You don't think anything of it until one of the digits slides down the crack of your rear. It makes you jolt forward, and he pulls you back, coughing one second before he engulfs you again. He holds you still as the finger pokes at your entrance. You grip the strands of hair in your hands, pulling on them slightly.

"G-Gamzee, what-"

He pulls away slowly, his teeth along you as he goes and lets you go. He looks up at you, grinning. "Give it a shot, mother fucker. You might like it." He accents this by delving the tip of his finger into your entrance. You grit your teeth at the intrusion, and you're about to try and pull away, but his mouth is back on your prick, and it balances out the burn. He's sucking as he goes up and down, adding a new sensation, and you moan. He's slow with entering you, only using the one finger to go deeper, until he's almost completely in. He starts pumping, trying to time it with his deep throating, and you feel a pressure in your abdomen building up.

You bury your face in his messy hair, the mix of pants and groans getting louder as he goes. He hums while he goes down your length, and you never knew something so simple could feel so good. The pressure is getting too much, and you pull on his hair, a little rougher than you mean to. "...ngh, going to..."

He nods, pulling back until just your head is in his mouth. He sucks hard, and you lose it, your orgasm coursing through your body, and your seed spilling into his welcoming mouth. He sloppily takes everything, swallowing what he actually gets beyond his lips, the rest on his cheek and you. While you're panting, your face still nuzzled into his hair, he licks you clean. He pulls back, removing his finger from you, and looks up at you with half-lidded eyes.

"Think you liked that, Tav," he says smugly. He taps his cheek where some of your seed is still glistening. "Help a mother fucker out?"

You lean in to lick the drying fluid from his cheek, it tastes different than his, and you're still not sure if you like it. When you're done, you kiss him on the lips, and he holds you in place with a hand in your hair, returning the kiss and deepening it. He ends it with a kiss to your nose.

"Bed?"

You look down, staring at his bare chest. "Y-yeah, I guess..."

He loops one arm under your legs and the other around your back, hoisting you up and over to the large bed on the other side of the room. You wrap your arms around his neck, nuzzling into his chest as he carries you. You're still coming down from your post-orgasm high, and you're still a little fuzzy, but you're doing your best not to think of what will happen next.

He drops you on the bed haphazardly, while he takes off his pants and kicks them away. You barely have time to straighten yourself before he's on top of you, kissing you and his hands are roaming everywhere. He lays on top of you, and you can feel his member twitching with life again. He's already able to go again? Gog, what is your night going to be like?

He's kissing you across your face and neck and shoulders, and it's almost tender, but then he's turning you over on your stomach, and you have no delusion what's coming. He returns to kissing you, along your spine, and he licks a line from one shoulder blade to another. You shiver at the sensation, and bury your head into the fluffy pillows underneath you.

"Mother fucker got anything to make this easier on you?"

You turn your head to the side, eying the nightstand and point. "It's... it's the bottle over there."

You feel him shift as he reaches for it, and then he's atop you again, kissing the nape of your neck. He starts nipping at your shoulder before he sinks his teeth into the skin. You gasp, burying your head once more in the pillows. As he's leaving a mark on you, his hand is sliding down your side until it rests right above your rear. He moves to different parts of your neck, biting as he goes, distracting you from the slick digit probing your entrance. It isn't as bad as last time, you're more familiar with it, and it doesn't take long for it to feel good. You moan into the down, gripping the sheets.

You wince when a second finger is inserted, the burn reminiscent of before. He's moving slowly, in and out, and scissoring at the same time. The pain eases into pleasure, and you're moaning again. He chuckles against your neck as he lays kisses up and down your neck.

You sigh when he leaves your hole, feeling strangely empty. He grabs your hips and pulls them up so your rear is in the air and you're on your elbows. You feel something firm and slick at your entrance, and you have to remember that both his hands on still on your hips.

"Mother fucker ready for this?"

You take in a deep breath before nodding and saying with an unsure voice, "Y-yeah..."

Your eyes widen as you feel him enter you. You may have been prepared, but it's still more than you were expecting, and it burns, more than before. You bite the pillow underneath you, ignoring the pinprick of tears at the corner of your eyes. He's moving further into you, slowly, and he's leaning over you as he goes. He kisses you along the back, going up as he went into you.

When he's fully seated into you he nips at your neck. "Tav, brother, you feel so mother fucking good..." he mutters against your skin. He pulls out until only his tip is inside of you, then pushes back in, faster this time. It still hurts, but you can already feel the pain ebbing away to something else. He continues going in and out of you, enjoying a slow speed as he gets familiar with you.

Your own cock is starting to twitch with renewed life. You didn't think you'd be able to go again, but it's not like you've ever tried to do it twice in such a short period of time. You're moaning more as he picks up speed, using his hands on your hips to set the pace. You find yourself moving with him, pushing back whenever he bucks forward.

You two start a rather quick and rough speed, and he's groaning, his fingers digging into your hips almost painfully. He bites your neck again, this time harder, you think he's drawing blood, and instead of hurting like normal, it just adds to all the sensations you're feeling. You reach between your legs and take hold of your neglected cock, stroking it in a reckless rhythm with his rocking.

It surprises you how long you two keep this up, but you guess it has to do with already coming before. At some point he wraps an arm around your front, pulling you up so your back is flush with his chest as he keeps at it. He places one hand atop the one on your length, stroking it with you. You start muttering things, you're not sure what you're saying, but they're expletives that seem to encourage him to go faster and harder, every now and again hitting a spot in you that makes you see stars.

You lean your head back across his shoulder, and he kisses you along your neck, whispering sweet things in your ear, telling you how good you feel, how beautiful you are. Were you not already flushed, you cheeks would be aflame with his words. He tilts your head so he can kiss you, and this time it's different, it's slow and meaningful, and you it sends a wave of pleasure up your body.

You can feel that pressure building in your lower half again, and you know you can't last much longer. You reach your other arm around to grip the back of his head, keeping his face in your neck where he happily starts biting you again. He's stroking you faster, and you can't take it anymore, you throw your head back over his shoulder again, shouting his name as you come in your joined hands. He growls, giving you a few more thrusts before he buries himself deep within you, and you feel him fill you up.

You both collapse onto the bed, panting. You're facing each other, and you note how his face paint has smeared. You bring a hand to stroke the side of his face, and he's smiling at you. You smile back, and think to yourself how, out of all the scenarios you had running through your head when the night started, none of them had included you enjoying yourself.

You let your eyes close, taking a moment to rest. Maybe he'll cuddle you when you sleep? That would be a great way to end this. Your thoughts are getting muddy, and you're about to drift off, when a hand tugs you forward, meeting in a haphazard kiss.

"Not going to mother fucking fall asleep on me, are you?"

You open your eyes lazily. "Should I.. not?"

He grins. "I got until the fucking morning, remember?" He rolls on top of you. "And I plan to get my mother fucking money's worth."

::*~~*::

You're sore the next day, very sore. Gamzee had his way with you two more times before he finally settled to cuddle and pass out. You two only got about two hours of sleep before you had to wake up and escort him out, taking the shuttle back to the spot where Eridan wanted to get picked up and then back to the ship.

You try to go about your day as normal, tending to things for your master, but every step sends a surge in your backside, and makes you think of Gamzee. You don't want to think about it, just let the night pass you by, but even without the dull reminder, you'd still think of him. The night, though intense, was rather... enjoyable. When you two weren't going at it and getting ready for the next round, you talked and generally enjoyed each others company.

As the day goes on, Eridan notices your sorry state and gives you the day off, remarking how pitiful it was you couldn't stand a 'regular night.' You're laying on your bed (what passes as a bed, it's more of a cot) after a long, cold bath, and you're drifting off to sleep when you hear yelling down the hall. Curiosity gets the best of your sore nerves, and you put your ear to the door of your tiny room. You know it's Eridan's voice that's yelling, but whoever he's talking to is calmer, talking much softer, and you can't make it out. You'd think it was Dualscar, but you know they only time Eridan would be yelling at his father would be his father yelling back.

After a moment, there's heavy footsteps coming toward your side of the hall, and you get away from the door just in time for Eridan to burst into your room. He looks down at where you're kneeling on the floor, his face crossed with rage and exasperation.

"Get your things together, Lowblood," he snarls out. You can't tell if he's angry at you or someone else.

"W-what...? What are you talking about, Eridan?"

"You're leavvin'," he says simply. "Get your shit together, your new master is wwaitin; for you." He says this through his teeth.

"New master? Eridan, what are you ta-"

"Just do it, Nitram!" he yells. He slams the door as he walks out and back down the hall.

It takes you a moment to get your bearings together, but you do as he says, getting the little amount of personal possessions (mostly your father's things that they let you keep), and the small amount of clothes you have together. You're not sure what to think of all this. You've been in the employ of the Ampora family for fifteen years, you have twenty years left on your debt, why would he sell you?

With your things together, you leave your room and go down the hall to an ante room that was meant only for Eridan and his rooms. Eridan is in the middle, still talking loudly. In front of him is the person he's talking to, and the first thing that stands out to you is the wild purple hair. Is that...

"You take too long," Eridan snaps at you. "Made us both wwait."

Gamzee is smiling at you, waving a little. "Hey there, little mother fucker."

You look between them, confusion written all over your face. "I-I don't understand..."

"Seems Makara here has taken a likin' to you, Lowblood, you should consider yourself honoured." He pushes you toward Gamzee. "He's goin' to keep you from now on."

"But-"

"Is going to be mother fucking miracles, Tavbro," the Indigo blood says, wrapping an arm around your waist. He pulls you close to him, and you blush at his forward behaviour, especially in front of Eridan.

Eridan rolls his eyes. He pulls out a piece of paper and hands it over to Gamzee, who reads it the moment it's in his hand. He grins and puts it in his pocket.

"I'm glad a mother fucker could see eye-to-eye on this, Ampora," he says through a grin.

"If you mean I don't wwant you tellin' my father, then yes, wwe're seein' eye-to-eye." Eridan looks at you, that angry look still on his face. "Have fun wwith him, Lowblood."

You're still confused, but Eridan's leaving, and you're alone with Gamzee.

You look up at him, eyes wide. "Gamzee, what's going on?"

"Well, I got all up home and shit, started thinking about you, mother fucker, how you talked about your life here, and this mother fucker was thinking, why not keep you on Ariel? Subjuggulators are good mother fuckers to their servants, and you'll never have to worry about some shit like last night." He smiles. "So, was talking to that mother fucker Ampora, told him I was thinking of keeping you, and that mother fucker wanted to say no." He grinned widely. "Then I told that mother fucker how I could tell his dad who I was really with last night, that seemed to make some miracles happen. Got the papers and all that shit." He pats the pocket he put the paper in earlier.

"So... so I'm your servant now?" You're not sure how you feel about this.

He leans in, rubbing his nose against yours. "Call it what you want, all this mother fucker knows is you're coming home with me." With that, he pulls on you, leading you to the exit, and your new home.

.fin.

Random factoid, when I first had the idea for a Firefly AU, it was nothing like this. Gamzee was going to be part of a crew similar to Serenity and was known for chasing Reavers, which is how he meets Tavros. Then suddenly, I got this idea, because there isn't enough PBJ smut in my life.

Apparently.

Anyway, reviews are always nice. I'll be trying to write more one-shots, but if anyone has some PBJ prompts they want to throw my way, I'll see what I can do. 3

Hope you enjoyed!