Tavros reaches for the husktop resting between the two of you, knocking a couple horns loose from the pile in which you're currently kicking it. One of them rolls to the floor with a halfhearted squeaking noise and you smile down at it blearily. Your head is swimming and your fingers are sticky with slime, but you attempt to pull yourself together instead of just lying back and getting your zone on as Tav pulls up the audio file you're supposed to be listening to.
It's new shit from this collective that he found online, Odd Future Howlbeast-Gang Cull Them All or something like that. They're supposed to be pretty motherfucking wicked, and Tav had suggested in his own roundabout way that the two of you should check them out together, as a celebration of your newfound matespritship, and fuck if that doesn't get your insides to doing the sweetest of motherfucking backflips.
See, here's how it is. There's miracles like when a pie comes out exactly right on the first try or when the old goat sticks around for longer than usual, and then there's miracles like Tavros Nitram actually being flushed for you, after all the time you spent figuring that the two of you were just good motherfucking bros and all the pity you had for him would mess with your groove if you couldn't keep a lid on it. And that particular miracle is pretty much the most miraculous one there ever done was, as far as you're concerned.
"You all ready for this shit?" you ask him. He grins shyly.
"I was hatched ready, probably."
The two of you share an impromptu fistbump and then he hits play, reclining gingerly back into the pile as the song starts. You sit in enraptured silence up until the first chorus, which involves some sampled honks that you approve of immensely.
When you glance over at Tavros to see what he thinks he's looking at you too, grinning even wider now.
"These rhymes are so sick, I think they may need, uh, medical attention," he says, and you nod your agreement, head bumping a horn on the way back down.
"Totally, bro. I would never have motherfucking thought to rhyme 'lusus' with 'pure sass.'"
"So awesome," he agrees, and then you both get quiet again to listen. He looks so concentrated and shit, probably taking fuckin' mental notes or something and you're feeling like it would be a pretty sweet thing to just all up and give him a kiss without having to kick around all that shit about him maybe not being as amped on you as you are on him, and so you decide to just motherfucking go for it.
It's fast, a quick brush of lips against the corner of his mouth, partly just to test the waters and partly because you missed the spot you were actually aiming for. Tavros looks surprised for a second, then ducks his head and blushes. He carefully takes the husktop off your hornpile and sets it on the floor, OFHBGCTA still coming from the speakers.
Then he leans in to kiss you for real, which is the best motherfucking thing you ever felt, even if your noses are kind of squashed and your teeth keep clicking together painfully.
Tav pulls back and laughs kind of nervously, looking up at you like he's worried that he messed up or something. You just angle your head a little different and lean in again, licking enthusiastically at his tongue and the roof of his mouth and the points of his too-sharp teeth, probably putting yourself in danger of tongue wounds. But it's cool. Tongue wounds are cool.
Pretty much everything is cool, actually, as Tavros makes a soft noise in the back of his throat and pulls you closer. But just as you're about to get at one of his horns, he detaches his mouth from yours for the second time, which is uncool. He's looking over your shoulder, down at the husktop as if staring at it long enough will reveal the secrets of good slamming.
"Dude," he says, and maybe it's your imagination but his voice sounds all sorts of shaky, maybe from the kissing, and that is just fifteen kinds of totally motherfucking sexy. "Listen to this part, they sound a lot like that one time, when we were slamming, but um, I think the flow's a little smoother—"
He keeps talking, all this technical shit about rhyme scheme and song structures that you can barely even comprehend on your best days. It's pretty motherfucking adorable, and you think about just letting him talk for a while while you zone, but you know you gotta level with your bro.
"Man, I got no clue what you're motherfuckin' saying."
Tavros pauses his wicked onslaught of big words for a second and laughs, giving you a sock on the shoulder that is totally wimpy, for the record.
"You're spaced," he teases you, sounding affectionate as the track fades out into something a little bit smoother. You grin at him crookedly, and apparently that's motivation enough for him to forget whatever the fuck he was saying before and kiss you again. You don't do much better than last time with your teeth, but what the hell.
You're practically nose-to-nose when you break apart again, and up close you can see the slight, embarrassed flush of brown in Tavros's cheeks, and how his bottom lip is shiny with spit from when you maybe got a little overzealous with the tongues, and you could probably get all to counting his motherfucking miraculous eyelashes if you felt so inclined. Which you don't, because sometimes you forget which numbers go where and that is just about the quickest way to confuse a motherfucker.
But before you can up and try counting anything at all, Tav ducks his head down to press a dry, chaste kiss to your cheek. Then he continues down, following the curve of your jaw and getting progressively sloppier as he goes until he's just licking down the column of your throat, pausing every so often to suck until he leaves tender spots that you imagine will stand out mottled and indigo against your skin. It's not much like him to up and get the ball to rolling so quickly, but who knows. Maybe today he's feeling frisky. You realized long ago that it isn't your place to go questioning the miracles.
And there are definitely some motherfucking miracles afoot. Tav's teeth just barely ghost along the sore spots as he continues, and something slow and warm uncurls in your stomach as you stretch out beneath him on the pile.
Just as you're about to make your second grab for one of those majestic motherfucking horns, Tavros's hand comes up to curl loosely around one of your own, sliding one finger up the length of it and making soft, lazy circles around the point. Usually when you're taking care of business alone you get too distracted if you don't just focus on your bulge, but you're definitely going to have to rethink that stance if just one stroke to your horns can get you all to being this motherfucking shuddery on the inside.
You make sure Tavros can see that you like it, butting your head up into his hand, and he smiles at you, pleased. Then he curls his hand tighter around, brings it down to where the base of your horn is nestled in your hair and starts to lightly touch the sensitive skin there, and yeah. Yeah, a motherfucker could definitely get used to this.
Your bulge is tenting your pants by now, and if the way that it throbs every time Tavros shifts positions over you is any indication, he's got a VIP fucking invite to the circus going on inside.
He notices how hard you are, and you notice him noticing, and he notices you noticing him noticing, and.
"Fuuuuck," you say out loud, both because of how deliriously good this shit is feeling and because that train of thought was getting you pretty motherfucking mixed up. "We can stop here if that's what your heart's telling you, bro," you offer, trying not to look too crazy bummed at the idea, and also trying to look like Tav's hand still isn't resting solidly on your horn, getting you ten kinds of turned on.
But Tavros just shakes his head emphatically, sliding his hand off your horn to ruffle through your hair.
"We don't have to stop," he says, eyes focused studiously on some horns to the left of your shoulder as he flushes even darker brown. "I mean. I really pity you a lot, but you're still, um, my best bro, and I wanted to, I guess, do this to kind of let you know. About that."
Eventually he manages to actually make eye contact with you, and you smile as wide as you have all day. "You're the sweetest of sweet motherfuckers," you tell him, "and I feel motherfucking bad for you too."
His face breaks out in a smile and you lean up for another kiss, finally getting your hands on one of those horns. After all, equal reciprocation with your partner was the last tip Karkat gave you before he ordered you to never speak to him about pailing again and then logged off for good measure.
You know right after you grab on that the horns were a good idea. The second you touch one, stroking just your fingertips along the smooth coolness and just all feeling how motherfucking huge and solid they are, Tavros practically melts into you. One of his knees even slides conveniently in between your parted thighs due to your good brother, gravity. Motherfuckin' miracles.
He clings to your shoulder like some kind of damsel in sexy, sexy distress as you bring your mouth up to lick messy stripes across the most sensitive parts of his horns, trying to all and make Tav feel as good as possible as you roll your hips feverishly down onto his leg. You know you aren't going to last much longer if he keeps up with those soft, distracting noises.
Pretty soon he's lifting his face to yours once again, reaching down to palm your bulge clumsily with the heel of his hand. He works you off patiently until you just about lose it, hands slipping from his horns as your eyes go all unfocused and your hips buck up to meet his hand in tiny jerks. It's the best motherfucking thing you ever felt.
So you're right on the edge, and then Tavros just looks at you, with his skin all flushed and his Mohawk in disarray, and you get the weirdest urge to just laugh even though not all that much is motherfucking funny at the moment. But you do it anyway, and then Tav laughs too, eyes crinkling up as his hand goes all erratic on your bulge, and you come in the middle of a wheezy chuckle that turns into a choke halfway through.
Tav swallows it in a kiss and keeps you still through the aftershocks, motioning for you to move his leg out from in between your own. There's a damp, spreading patch on the front of your pants, and you guess you should probably start getting to be all embarrassed because you came before any clothes were even removed, but there are bigger fish to fry at the moment. You can see that your good bro Tavros is still struggling with a certain kind of problem, and it's your duty as his matesprit to help him out. Sexily.
"Mind if I up and get us out of this pile, brother?"
Tavros shakes his head, looking all hot and bothered and also maybe a little confused. You wonder vaguely if he thinks you're the kind of motherfucker who'd just leave a bro hanging, but you guess that all of his doubts will be addressed in time.
You hoist him up carefully and take him out of the horn pile, helping him lie down on the floor next to it and stretching out his legs so that there's plenty of room in between them for you to kneel down and do your thing.
Tavros seems to realize what's about to go down just as you're undoing his pants and yanking them down carefully over his hips. You know because his eyes get to being all big and surprised, and he says 'uhh,' like ten gazillion times.
The motherfucker is pretty hung, and you never sucked bone bulge a day in your life before now, but you know that all you really gotta do is believe. Repeating that over and over in your head, you lean forward to up and get your investigation on.
His bulge is flushed with brown, just like his face, and it twitches a little when you breathe on it. Tavros makes a strangled noise, and you see his hands clenching and unclenching uselessly at his sides.
Being real motherfucking careful about the teeth this time, because you're pretty sure that teeth plus bone bulge generally equals bad news, you experimentally lick up the side. Tavros inhales so fast it's almost a whimper.
You get to the sensitive tip and wrap your mouth around it languorously, memorizing the way that he stretches the corners of your mouth and weighs heavily on your tongue and fills up your whole brain with his smell until you're even less motherfucking sure than usual what's up or down or sideways.
Tavros is saying your name now, gasping it out with his hands tight in your hair, tugging sharply on your horns. You think you couldn't possibly ever have imagine anything as good as all this.
You inch him further down your throat, as far as you can go without throwing up, which would pretty much be the direct opposite of a miracle, whatever that is.
Anyway, you grab the rest of it with your hand and start working Tav off sloppily as you suck, glancing up for a second and feeling pretty motherfuckin' good about the way his eyes squeeze shut and a litany of urges and pleas and you don't even know what all escapes his mouth.
"Gamz, Gamzee, I don't, please—"
He shivers all over and comes in your mouth with a moan.
You aren't old enough to be pailing yet for real but there's still a lot, drips of it escaping from your mouth as you swallow down what you can. You wonder if Tav maybe hadn't cleaned the pipes in a while, if he waited for you, and the idea gets you to grinning like a loopy motherfucker.
You get back up to a sitting position and help Tav to sit up too, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.
"How'd I do?" you ask him, and he just smiles at you all dopey, like the last time you made pies and the fumes got to him, and leans against your side.
"Pretty well, uh. You might even say miraculously."
Well, look at that. Your main motherfucker thought you up and worked a miracle. You proffer your knuckles for another round of fistbumps, to celebrate a job well done. Tav gives you his palm instead, apparently going for a high-five, and somehow you just kind of end up holding hands while you listen to the last few songs of OFHBGCTA.
"So awesome," Tav repeats sleepily, next to you. You nod your agreement, but he's already halfway to being conked-out and doesn't see it. Poor dude's completely spent. You circle an arm around his shoulders and bring him in close, all this body heat and these flushed shenanigans making you feel like you wouldn't mind catching a couple wicked z's yourself.
You fall asleep with your best bro next to you, thinking about what all the two of you are gonna do when you wake up.