This is an AU based on what I wish happened after Gamzee suggested make outs. Like, an alternate timeline or something where they become matesprits because PB&J is the best TuT
Your name is TAVROS NITRAM, and you're staring at the screen of your husktop in shock. You shake your head a bit and rub your eyes, then look back at the screen. Sure enough, you see the exact same thing you'd seen earlier. You aren't really sure what to do or say, so you respond with a simple 'uH,' and hope that you'll think of a proper response before he messages back.
GAMZEE MAKARA, a good friend of yours, has just suggested that the two of you make out a little the next time you chill together. His proposition confuses you to know end because you cannot tell if he's serious or not. That's one of the drawbacks of having a drugged up friend. You don't approve of his sopor ingesting habits, but lack the CONFIDENCE to say anything, which brings you back to the issue at hand.
He has responded with a ';o)' and, once again, you are unsure how to interpret this. The idea of him having RED FEELINGS towards you seems absurd, what with your blood castes being significantly different. You are a RUST BLOOD, while he is the highest ranked land dweller on the hemospectrum. A relationship between the two of you would be scandalous, and you don't think you'd be ok with all that unwanted attention. Then again, he could just be messing around so you simply type back a series of comas in your confusion.
Hopefully he'll reveal if he's serious or not before you're forced to give him a legitimate response. You'll admit to having a FLUSH CRUSH on the capricious troll, but you'd never thought anything would come of it. After the Flarping incident, Gamzee was the only troll one didn't think of your four wheel device as a crutch. He didn't think you were weak or girly like your other friends, he'd thought you were 'mOtHeRfUcKiNg CoOl'. He didn't treat you any differently or even talk about your legs unless it was to assure you that you weren't fucked up.
You're nervous as your husktop dings, and you're surprised to see that this message is fairly long. In his usual dark purple font, it reads, 'LoOk TaVbRo, I dIdN't AlL uP aNd MeAn To MaKe A mOtHeRfUcKeR uNcOmFoRtAbLe. If YoU mOtHeRfUcKiNg WaNt, We CaN jUsT fOrGeT tHiS aNd StAy FrIeNdS, wHiCh Is StIlL mOtHeRfUcKiNg BiTcHtItS :o)'
Based on this response, you've decided that he'd been very serious when suggesting you guys make out. He seems genuinely sorry for even mentioning it, and you kind of want to hug him and tell him that YOU'RE the one sorry. You dislike upsetting other people, especially you're friends. Not to mention you do like him, so it seems kind of silly to just stay friends when you know he likes you. Doing your best to seem confident, you send him a message so he knows you aren't distressed, 'oH, uM, tHAT'S OK ACTUALLY, uH, yOU CAN STILL COME OVER TODAY, iF YOU WANT, tHAT IS,'
You hope that this will do for now because that took a ton of confidence to type. In fact, it took so much that you don't even wait for his response before exiting out of Trollian completely. You're EXTREMELY nervous now because if he comes over, he'll probably want an explanation for why you changed your mind all of a sudden. Well, you were planning on letting him over still, regardless of what he said, but he didn't know that so you're sure he'll question you.
Then there's the issue of acknowledging your flushed feelings for him. You know he's red for you as well, so it's likely that you'll have to make the first mood. Ordinarily, you'd let him do that, but seeing as he isn't aware of your feelings, he won't. The thought frightens you and you aren't sure if you're able to do it: what if you mess up?
There's a knock on the door and you're entire body tenses the fuck up. Well, the parts you can still feel anyway. The mid-thigh down is just sort of… There. In your little spasm, you're husktop slides off your lap and lands on the ground audibly. You yelp at the sound and hope there isn't any damage that would render it useless. The door to your RESPITEBLOCK is swung open rapidly and strikes the wall it's hinged to, making you yelp a second time. You look in the direction of the door and see your high blooded friend standing there looking very pissed off.
When your eyes meet, his expression softens and he now looks thankful rather than murderous, which you are grateful for. In two long strides he's bent over next to you and picking up your husktop, then setting it down properly on the purple cloth-covered desk. He kicks a couple of your Fiduspawn balls to the side and plants himself happily on the ground next to you. You notice that he's carrying a Faygo in his right hand and that his hair isn't as messy as usual: he must have tried to brush it.
Although his hair is still knotted as all hell, you enjoy the sentiment and watch as he downs half the bottle of Redpop. You enjoy the serenity of this moment, but then you're struck with the sudden realization that he's here. Obviously you knew he was here earlier, duh, but you hadn't quite registered it for what it was: unfortunate. Why would his presence be unfortunate? Because now you're going to have to make the first move towards a matespritship with him.
"Um… Gamzee? W-Why are you sitting on the floor?"
Seriously? That's your ice breaker? You KNOW why he's sitting on the floor: you have no chairs. Although, you don't really have the need for chairs, considering you're always sitting down in your four wheel device. Gamzee doesn't seem to mind your dumb question, though, and chuckles out his response in a joyous manner.
"Ain't a motherfucking place else to be sitting at, unless…," he flashes you a smirk, and you aren't really sure why, "Where would you all up and have me be sitting?"
This question strikes you as odd because, as was mentioned before, there's nowhere else to sit. There's only one seat, and you're sitting in it.
"I don't, uh, think you can because-"
And then it hits you: this is your chance to make the first move. You suddenly realize that YOU'RE the only seat in your room, which means you can offer him a seat in your lap! Even Gamzee would be able to take this hint, sopored up or not.
"Actually, I guess you could just sit in my lap… If that's ok with you and all."
Nailed it. You give yourself a mental pat on the back as he stands up and sits in your lap so that he's straddling you. You can feel the heat from his nook against yours and you could've sworn that the fabric of his PJ pants was damp around the crotch area.
"Is this all cozy like Tavbro?" he asks with a sultry tone, but then frowns and shifts to something guilty sounding, "Or am I making you motherfucking uneasy again?"
"Oh! Oh, uh, no, you're fine. Really," you stammer out as your cheeks burn bright brown, too focused on how warm it is down south. His smirk returns and he shifts his weight slightly, bringing his heat even closer to your own.
"I'mma just get a bit more motherfucking comfortable then," he says, tightening his thighs on your hips and grinding down against your crotch. You let out a little whine and close your eyes so tightly that all you can see is white shapes. You prepare for him to do it again, but after a minute of nothing you open your eyes to find him staring at you. He looks… Surprised? Awed? Upset?
You can't really tell. His eyes have dilated a bit and his lips are parted just slightly, but his eyebrows are knitted together and it just throws you off. You look up at him in earnest and place your hand on top of his, which is resting on the arm of your four wheel device. Your hands are so tiny in comparison, and a little meatier as well, but you still feel like yours should be in his. Like your short little fingers should be intertwined with his lanky ones at all times, and it saddens you that they aren't right now.
"Am I all up and getting the wrong motherfucking signals bro?" he asks, still looking at you with that unreadable expression. You shake your head no as you look down at your hand on top of his.
"No, I just… Um, I don't know how to say this. I kind of… I really, uh… I have red feelings for you, too, so I was trying to… Um...," you trail off, focusing intensely on your hands so you won't have to look up at him. Dammit, why can't you be more confident! Above you, Gamzee chuckles mirthfully and dips his face into the crook of your neck. You feel his lips press against your skin softly, making you mewl. He continues to kiss different areas along your neck and jaw line until he reaches one spot that makes you arch your back into him.
He attacks that spot over and over: nipping at the tender flesh, lapping up the brown blood that drips from the bite marks, kissing the abused area sweetly. His ministrations make you croon in pleasure, and you can feel something that you've neglected for a long time come out of hiding and press against the restrains of your jeans. Your pants become soaked with the rustic material, and you just know that Gamzee can sense how wet you are.
The high blood pulls away from your neck and instead gives his attention to your lips, molding them with his own and gliding his pointed tongue along your bottom lip. You're kind of frightened to allow him entrance because a) his tongue is really slick and nearly a foot long and b) his teeth are much sharper than yours. Regardless, you part your lips and grant him what he wants because a small part of you just doesn't care about the dangers. He leans closer as his tongue intrudes your mouth, and you can feel something wiggling around in his pants as well.
The purple fluids drip through his PJ's and mix with the brown, staining your jeans with yet another color. He eagerly grinds your bulges together, the sensation amazing despite the fabric separating you. His tongue wraps around yours and jerks in into his mouth, in which he lightly sucks the appendage and runs his hands up your shirt.
Your hands are firmly resting in his messy hair while he rolls his thumbs over your grub scars, and you moan as he lightly nicks your lip with his fangs. He sucks away the excess blood from the injury and it sends you to cloud nine with how caring he's being. Gamzee pulls away from you and, with a little struggle to get over the horns, takes your shirt off and slouches down. He uses his fingers to graze over your right grub scars, licking and nipping at the other set on your left.
Beneath him, you're a hot squealing mess and you're already panting from all the foreplay. The fingers that had been raked through his hair had tightened, yanking the strands painfully. You're nails are digging into his scalp now, and all he does is groan as he pulls away from the scars and leans his head back. You retract your hands and stare at him because dear lord does he look hot right now.
He leans forward again and smirks, then removes his own shirt to reveal surprisingly toned abs. They aren't too profound, but it's enough that you know they're there (if that makes any sense). He'd always seemed lanky to you, but he was a high blood and they were known for being muscular so it made sense. You bring your hands to his chest and ghost your fingers over his body dreamily. Your index fingers brush against his grub scars on accident, but he grinds into your restricted bulge as you do it so you know he wants more.
You're not really sure how to do this properly, so you just sort of do an experimental rub on one of the scars. He moans and grinds down again, and you swear that your bulge is just going to rip open your jeans. Getting a positive reaction, you get a little more courage and rub both sets this time, earning you more groans and more grinding. You pull his chest closer to you and lick each scar teasingly, enjoying the reactions coming from your partner. He just looks so hot when he's like this, so you mimic what he did earlier and softly nip and lick his right set of scars with your tongue and your teeth. You rub your fingers over the other set, then switch your actions to keep things different.
He's practically humping you now and it would seem as if your bulge had just given up on trying to get out of your jeans because it's- Oh fuck it's slithering into your nook. You gasp as the tentabulge grazes the walls of your nook, exploring the tight hole before forcing itself as far in as it can go. Gamzee senses your distress and looks down towards your crotch which is coated in brown and purple stains. He smirks and crawls of your lap, much to your chagrin, and tugs down on his PJ pants. Unsurprisingly, he's not wearing any underwear, and all you can focus on is the sheer girth of his bulge.
It's nearly as long as his tongue and oozing purple material all over your floor, not to mention violently attacking the air. You're shock must be obvious, because he's quick to make the next move and pull down your jeans. Your boxers are completely ruined and stained brown. Ya, there's no way these will be usable again. Gamzee just grins and yanks those off too, throwing them to the side with your pants. You blush in embarrassment as he watches your bulge pleasing your nook, but he doesn't seem to mind and grips the base of you bulge, coaxing it to come out.
You turn away and close your eyes, mortified with the appendages behavior. Then there's an absence in your nook, and you hate yourself for whining at the loss. You hear Gamzee laugh, no doubt at how pathetic you were. What kind of troll fucked their nook with their own bulge? You must appear so depraved, you wouldn't be surprised if Gamzee just left you this way.
Then there's a warmth enveloping your lips that you quickly recognizes as Gamzee's own. Your eyes shoot open just in time to see Gamzee crawl back into your lap and ease your bulge into his nook. You sigh in relief as your bulge scrapes along his walls, and gasp once he slams himself down in your lap. He positions himself so that he's straddling you like before, then plants a kiss on your forehead before bouncing on your bone bulge. You instinctively grab his hips and guide his movements, loving the way he moaned like a bulge slut all because of you.
He rocks his hips towards you every time he slams down, only adding to the intense pleasure you're both feeling. His hands wrap around the lengths of your horns as he rides you, closing his eyes and lolling his tongue out. You look down at his neglected bulge and, only taking one hand from his hip, begin to stroke its length. You squeeze the base hesitantly and then pump his bulge spastically. With the combination of Gamzee riding you and the sight of him like this, you're already close to coming when you remember something: you don't have a bucket.
"Uh, Gamzee," you say, voice cracking just the slightest bit. He murmurs a forced 'motherfuck what', and his voice sounds much deeper than usual, only turning you on further.
"We um… We don't have a bucket," you point out, barely getting out the last word because moaning was too important right now, "Fuck Gamzee, you're so tight!"
One of his hands let go of your horn and then there's a bucket in it: holy shit he had one in his sylledex already. Did that mean he'd been planning for this? You're too turned on to even care right now because the other hand that had been gripping your horn was now squeezing the tip of it, which was very sensitive for trolls. With the added pleasure, you feel the heat in the pit of your stomach multiply as you cry out your partner's name and release your material into his nook. He groans at the feeling of your genetics inside of him and puts the bucket in front of his bulge, unloading all the purple liquid into the metal container. You watch as he pulls away from your bulge and allows the mixture of brown and purple to leak from his nook.
Your bulges resheathe themselves and he places the half full bucket underneath his nook, allowing the different colored liquids to fill up the rest of it. He captchalogues the used bucket and pants heavily, as do you (the panting part obviously). He presses his slightly sweaty forehead against yours and smiles down at you, resting his ass on your legs and gripping the nape of your neck with his palm.
"Tavbabe, you're a motherfucking miracle worker. I pity you so much," he tells you between breaths, and the last part makes you blush.
"I uh, pity you too Gamzee," you tell him, and he laughs. Then he gets off of your lap and scoops you into his arms, carrying you over to the recuperacoon across the room. He takes note of your wide horns and narrow recuperacoon entrance and sets you down on the ramp that leads to the sleeping chamber. He grips both edges and rips in open a little, which you're grateful for. You always had difficulty sleeping because your horns wouldn't fit. Then he picks you back up and crawls into the recuperacoon with you, snuggling close to your form.
"You're my beautiful motherfucking miracle," he tells you before dozing off. You smile and pull him closer, thinking of all the things you two could do together as matesprits. Maybe you could get him into Fiduspawn, or maybe you two could have another rap battle, or even address the sopor eating issue. Either way, you're happy and you think of how lucky you are as you fall asleep with your new matesprit in your arms.