A/N: Well I decided to write this because I'm a huge sap and I wanted them to get all personal and junk. Enjoy

==RESUME SESSION

You open your dark, dark eyes to a dark, dark room filled with the light, content sounds of breathing in a restful slumber. You can't really remember where you are but feels kind of miraculous so you just go with it.

There's a warm body pressed up against your chest. There's a hand on your wrist, the one that's draped over the lean body before you. There's soft black hair tickling your face. You shift your legs a bit and notice the absence of legs on your bedmate.

Tavros.

Now you remember. You told him about the letters. You told him it was you. You tried to comfort him after what Vriska did to him, and somehow you ended up here. Like you said, miraculous.

You can still taste him in your throat. You swallow hard a couple times because that stuff generally tastes pretty nasty and you'd rather not keep tasting it, but knowing it's his…

He shifts in front of you. Oh God, you really wish you hadn't come sober. You can just feel another temper tantrum brewing up in you. Your entire body tenses as he rolls over to face you, a confused and tired look on his face.

"Gamzee?" he croaks in a tiny little sleep-snared voice. "What are you doing up?"

You just sort of look at him. You know if you say a word you'll probably royally fuck up like every other time you say shit sober. But it doesn't look to you like he really needs a verbal answer as he reaches up and places a timid hand on your cheek.

You feel like a fool, a glorious fool. Here you are with the love of your life and you can't say a word to him. Sure, you could talk yesterday! You sure could talk then! But of course now you can't and you really fucking hate that. You really fucking hate a lot of things right now, come to think of it, most of which involve that spiderbitch Vriska.

Tavros breaks you out of your thoughts with a stroke of the thumb along your bottom lip. He's shaking and you know he's really nervous because you know him. You wonder how he's even able to look at you right now; you didn't figure he'd be so bold after what you'd done.

"Gamzee, why do you look so, uh, u-upset?" he stammers softly. You've always loved that adorable fucking stammer.

No matter how much you love it, though, you can't answer it. You just look away silently, certain that you just look pathetic at this point. Fuck you need something, anything, or you're going to go crazy on this kid and that isn't what you want to do.

To be clear, you're fucking pissed right now. You're mad about waking up so early, you're mad about what you said and what you did, you're mad about Vriska, you're mad about the way he looks at you, you're just really fucking angry, and if you said a word he'd probably hate you. That is, assuming he doesn't already.

Come to think of it, why hasn't he kicked you out of his bed yet? Out of his house, out of his life? Why isn't he scared of you? Why is he looking at you like you're the most pitiful fucking thing on the planet? Why is he…

Kissing you?

== Be the timid one

Your quivering lips brush against his experimentally, hoping to get his attention, to make him look at you. Everything was so perfect, it was all so perfect, and you can't stand not seeing those eyes, especially when he won't speak. You recognize this state he's in; you've seen it plenty of times before, and you've seen how his cousin deals with it.

You decided to modify that practice a little bit and well lookie here, you're kissing him, the love of your life, and one of the most messed-up motherfuckers you know.
For a moment he doesn't move. He tenses but his face doesn't so much as twitch for a moment until you start to pull away. You suppose maybe that wasn't the greatest idea, considering how he pretty much completely avoided kissing you the previous afternoon. Maybe…maybe he doesn't feel that way about you at all? Maybe he was lying? You suppose it's probable.

But not likely. He brings his hands up the moment your lips leave his and pull your face back to his. The kiss is passionate and you both take a sharp breath through your respective noses. You can't help but arch your back, your entire body colliding with his, and your lips part, and you sigh, and you've never kissed like this. His tongue is rubbing feverishly against yours and he's clutching at your hair, your shoulders, the skin of your back, anywhere he can reach without separating himself from you.

You whine when he pulls away abruptly. Your eyes are still shut and you worry your lower lip with your teeth, savoring the taste he left. When you finally do open your eyes he's just watching you, jaw slightly open as he breathes, and he looks completely dissatisfied.

"W-why'd you stop?" you huff, tangling your fingers in his mess of a head of hair. "You weren't, um, doing anything, wrong…"

He looks troubled for a moment, like he doesn't know what you're talking about. Your heart is beating so fast you wonder if maybe he can feel it and is wondering why it's that way. Or maybe it's something you did? You know you're not very experienced with kissing, but he probably is…

"I thought a miracle of a thought just now," he finally responds, catching your interest immediately.

"What was it?" you inquire.

A smile twitches his lips but you don't expect it's particularly easy right now for him to do that. You can almost see him trying to calm himself down. "I figured a motherfucker ought to tell his best guy what his motherfuckin heart can't say on its own. It's fuckin hard to do that when we're kissin, don't you think, Tav?"

You blush a deep red, not that he can really tell in the dim light cast through your window by the streetlight outside. "And…s-so what you're saying is, um…is that…"

"This motherfucker's in love with you, Tav."

== Be the sober doofus

After those words leave your mouth he stays completely still for a minute or two before muttering his own soft "I love you, too," and suddenly your lips are locked together again. You suppose sometime when it's not three in the morning and you're not ready to club the living shit out of everyone and everything you two will have a proper conversations about feelings and all them miraculous things. You guess it'll be okay to hold his hand now. And maybe kiss him now and then. And…well, you sure aren't going to stop writing him letters, because it always made him so happy. You just figure now you can be more descriptive.

As the morning drags on you share more kisses and he lets you take a few pills from his cabinet to take the edge off and you explore his legs and he explores your eyes and everything is just so perfect. The only downside is when your alarm rings and it all has to end.