Tavros couldn't resist anymore.

Gamzee and him had chilled out at Tavros' place and they had done the things they always do. Making sick rhymes, watched a movie and even shared a faygo. Now Gamzee was knocked out on the little pile they had made. Tavros was okay with Gamzee staying for the day. Bros help out bros right?

Now Tavros was sitting in his wheelchair with his husktop in his lap, just surfing the internet and checking out some websites. Occasionally, he would look over at Gamzee who made small honks in his sleep. Tavros would clench his fists and force himself to look back at the screen, the glow from the screen matching his own white skin.

What is this young troll's deal?

You see. This young nervous one is a rainbow drinker.

After a flarping partner named Vriska had pushed him out from a cliff, Tavros of course, had tumbled down and ended up getting his skull smashed on a rock. He was dead. Tavros didn't know what to expect after that, but he didn't expect waking up in his respiteblock afterwards. He had gotten a scar where his head had hit the rock, which should never have healed that fast, and his legs was deemed useless. And then there was the thirst for blood that had to be quenched regularly.

Didn't expect that.

And now was the worst time for the thirst to start fucking with him again.

Why hadn't he fed when he had the chance. Yesterday, Nepeta offered some of her prey to Tavros when he went to visit her. He had refused. The poor beast was dead and all, but he just couldn't do that to a once living creature. Now he hated himself.

He looked over at Gamzee again. Gamzee looked so peaceful and vulnerable when he just laid there. No, bad Tavros. Don't think like that about your bro. He is your friend for heavens sake. You can't just go and suck like a leech on your friends neck.

You just sit there silently arguing with yourself, until you hear a sound and you turn your head immediately. Phew, it's just Gamzee turning in his sleep. He groans a little as he readjusts himself, the collar of his t-shirt sliding down his shoulder, and revealing more of that lilac-tinted, grey skin.

Gamzee had always been thin. His clothes always looked like they were some sizes too big, and if you looked closely enough, you could see his hipbones poking out from underneath his baggy pants. You kinda understood it though. The only things you had seen him eat was those goddamn poison pies and faygo. One day when you were hanging out at Gamzee's place, you had asked if you could taste one of his pies. Out of curiosity of course. He had said no, with the only reason being "It rusts your thinkpan like an old iron vehicle in water motherfucker."

You can actually smell some of the sopor on him. But the smell is mostly covered by the sweet-sour smell of faygo. Those two things was flowing in his veins in very small quantities. It flowed along with his purple colored blood. His oh so delicious blood. How would it taste? Gamzee was the land dweller that was highest in the hemospectrum after all. Maybe he was so high off his ass, he wouldn't notice if you took a little sip?

You closed your husktop and placed it somewhere you didn't care. You rolled over to the pile where Gamzee was sleeping soundly. It didn't look like he was troubled by daymares at the moment. Good, then he would be really relaxed. Now is your first problem:

Gamzee was laying down. In order to reach him you either had to throw yourself out of your four-wheeled device and land on him, or you could make him sit up. Even though the first option would have been hilarious, you decide on the latter.

You roll closer, reach out for him and pat him gently on the arm.

"Gamzee. Could you sit up?" You whisper to him. He just groans lowly at you. You shake his arm and he finally opens his eyes a little. He stops you in your next sentence:

"Man, Tav. You just woke me up from some miraculous dreams. Why don't you lay down in this awesome pile and get your wicked Z's on with a brother?" He says hazily.

He's probably still in that post-sleep state. Where you are awake but too sleepy to register a thing, and you can't remember shit when you pass out and wake again.

"Could you do me a favor Gamz?" you say with a small purr. It was actually very easy to charm Gamzee. Being a rainbow drinker had it's advantages. "Please tilt you head to the side."

Gamzee gladly did so, but his movements were slow with sleep. You bet he doesn't even know what's going on. You lower you head right above his neck. You can still smell the soap from his bath this night. So he was that kinda type that washed himself after lifting himself out of the 'coon? What a good boy.

You place the tip of your nose right above one of the veins and inhale. Ooh yes good.

You trace the tip along the vein of your choice. You feel the pulse against your skin and it vibrates through your head, and your whole body. You travel up to the underdeveloped frills on his neck. Gamzee's caste actually has fins but they can't be used to breathe underwater. You dart your tongue out. If Gamzee wasn't gasping before, he sure as hell did now. You trace the wriggling muscle under the almost functional respiratory organ and he begins to moan.

You lift your upper lip a little and reveal those fangs you go around with. You trace again along the vein to find the perfect place to insert them. Gamzee winches when you press your canines a little into his delicate skin, giving him a little tester.

"dude" huff. "What's motherfucking happening?"

You can't stop here. Silence him.

You don't hesitate. He let's out a loud cry when you practically attack his neck. His purple blood flowing down your throat and dulling the burning fire. He continues to make sounds between groans and moans as you continue to suck him dry.

Never before in your life had you tasted something so delicious. You had only tasted the blood of all kinds of beasts scattered around this planet. Also some blood from the trolls that Vriska gives to her lusus. But Gamzee's, wow that's some good stuff.

You open your closed eyes when you hear Gamzee's heart slowing down. You fangs slip out and you clean the wound with your tongue. Gamzee whines. Is he hurt? He looks at you with dazed, half-lidded eyes. You trace your thumb across his lips before gently kissing him. You slide out of your wheelchair and lay beside him, lips still connected. He makes a questioning sound.

"Just sleep now" you say and his eyelashes flutter before closing.

You actually like it this way.