You know that your face is red- you can just feel it- and Gamzee's eyes are widening at the sight, just slightly enough to notice. He brings a monstrous hand up and brushes it across your cheek, turning slightly purple himself,

"I love your color, Karkitty." He whispers, almost silently.

You try to find the words, settling on fuckass, since fuckass is always acceptable in any situation, and push you face into the palm of his hand. He's slowly turning brighter and brighter indigo; this worries you,

"Gamzee- are you okay?" You say, raising both your hands to his face, one resting on his cheek and the other his forehead, "You're getting really warm..." You look into his eyes when he opens his mouth and reveals two rows of yellow teeth, they're glazing over, and he slips his arms around your waist, pulling you into a sloppy embrace.

"I want... You." You're shocked at the statement and, although few words, it takes you a while to decipher what he means but when you finally do you sigh and rest your head atop of his and nibble at the base of his left horn lightly.

"I can't Gamzee." You coo as he pulls you tighter and you cross your legs around his waist behind his back, "Tavros-,"

"He doesn't want me Kar, he doesn't, I try so hard and he just... Morherfuckin' asks if I want to play Fiduspawn." Gamzee fiddles with the bottom of your sweater, admiring the sliver of light grey flesh it reveals when he moves just a tad bit to further entrap you in his lap. "He wants motherfucking Vriska, he just doesn't fuckin know it." You sigh, you don't know what to say, and let Gamzee prattle on. He was playing with the hem of your shirt earlier, but now he's wiggled his large hands up your back and dances his fingers lightly across your spine; you shiver at first, but lean into the touch eventually and let yourself release a steady, gentle purr.

"Karkat," he moans, "all up and motherfuckin' let me. I want you so fuckin' bad." You bite his horn, hard, before replying, "No Gamzee." He slides his hands out of your shirt and to your inner thigh -your breath hitches and he chuckles,

"Karkat your ear are all motherfuckin red," he raises his head and looks you in the eye before craning upwards and biting your neck, "you make me wanna bake some motherfuckin' cherry Faygo cupcakes." He drawls as his tongue slides across you.

"Gamzee this is a feelings jam, not a baking jam-,"

He cups your rear in his oversized hands.

"Or a groping jam!"

"Kar, I am doin' my feelins' jam and shit, s'just a deeper feel."

You pap his head and he backs off, returning his hands to the small of your back and sighing heavily. You've left the conversation fish out in the sea for Gamzee to catch, but when he says nothing but instead stares at you with a predator's gaze you shift once again. You're leaning back now, against his grip and using it as support; you stare into the highblood's eyes, sighing when you notice that the rare neon blush has retreated.

"Gamzee, would you not wear face paint if I asked you to?" You wonder aloud, lost in his purple eyes,

"Would you eat slime pies and bathe in cherry Faygo with me, Karkat?"

"Fuck no, fuckass that's digusting."

"Well so is goin' a motherfuckin' day without my paint."