ZThemes

Gamz/Tav (Beware the tentacocks)

The written Gamz/Tav that comes after Odiku’s FANTASTIC comics.

Gamzee’s lips taste warm and wet and a little like faygo, and there is spoor slime pie dribbling between them but Tavros can’t stop. A gentle probe of a tongue touches his lower lip and the Taurus shivers and opens his lips to accommodate the clown. His eyes are drifting open and shut again, his think pan going haywire as he tries and fails to process what is happening. He knows on some level that Gamzee did not mean to kiss him like this when he leaned in for his “smooch.”

He pulls Gamzee down with a strength he doubted he possessed, and the taller troll growls faintly against his mouth as he has to almost crawl into Tavros’s chair rather than break his spine at the awkward angle. One of Gamzee’s large hands finds its way into his mohawk and trails over the base of one of his over-sized horns. Tavros shudders again and tries his best to pull Gamzee onto him, but they’re already pressed together.

Gamzee pulls back from the kiss, his cheeks flushed a little, and Tavros is amazed that the color of his blood is even visible underneath the makeup on his face. He takes a slow, deep breath and grins at the troll he is basically sitting on, his eyes half-lidded in a way that seems a lot more seductive than slime-induced for once. Tavros feels his face heating, his think pan registering what just happened and he is trying to think of a way to apologize for letting it get out of hand but Gamzee leans back down and gently licks a stray bit of pie from the corner of his lips.

“Well damn, Tav,” the clown says, making himself more comfortable on Tavros’s lap, swinging his legs into the spaces under Tavros’s arms so he can sit back and almost be at eye-level with the other troll. “I didn’t know a motherfucker had it in him to go and do that.” The taller boy smiles as his hands continue to play with Tavro’s hair, running over the short fuzz that covers most of his head and then tangling in the longer locks that make up his mohawk. Tavros smiles hesitantly and nods, his body making up for the lack of support from his think pan.

“I, uh, didn’t either, Gamz,” Tavros is a little ashamed at how breathy his voice comes out, but he can’t tell if the troll sitting in his lap even noticed. He tries to feel that confidence again, that bit of courage that he now knows is there, and sets his hands, not awkwardly, very pointedly, on Gamzee’s legs, almost at his hips. Because that’s where it’s comfortable, not because he’s being a creep.

And as his hands Grasp at Gamzee’s legs, the highblood shifts around a little like he’s going to find a better place to sit if he just moves his ass a few times and. Oh. Shit.

Tavros turns his head and looks pointedly at the wall. What a nice boring, plan old wall. Look how not attractive and not pitiful and definitely not-

Gamzee is still moving, and Tavros risks looking back at him because, what is he really going to do? Gamzee is looking right at him, a smile pulling his lips back over his teeth in a way that is almost predatory. He stills, makes sure Tavros is watching him, and grinds down on the Taurus’s lap. The sounds that spills from his lips is not a squeak, or a breathy sigh, but more like a moan. Yeah. Whatever the sound is, it is completely embarrassing and so is the hardening bonebulge that he knows Gamzee can feel through the soft fabric of his pants.

He wants to admit to the things he’s never said to Gamzee, the only secrets he ever holds from the troll. Things like, I am, uh, pretty red for you and I really pi-pity, you, um, Gamzee. And more embarrassing than any other thought that has ever crossed his mind, I think I, uh, understand what the humans are, uh, talking about. I think maybe I love you. And it is stupid, because he is a troll and not human and they don’t feel that way.

But instead what he says is, “Gamzee, you’re um, sitting on me,” which is both obvious and stupid, but Gamzee looks at him, properly surprised and responds, “Well how about that? How did a motherfucker even get up here?” He is still smiling that grin that looks like it’s going to split his face in half and his hands are still playing with Tavros’s hair, but they’re slowly drifting closer and closer to his horns.

When his hands close gently around the base of the Taurus’s horns, it feels like a gentle, tingling sensation, like a warmth that gets warmer and warmer until it burns. Gamzee pulls him closer by the horns, pressing their lips together again. He shifts in Tavros’s lap again and delights in the way it makes his friend gasp. He pulls away too fast, but he is overcome by the desire to taste the rest of him, tongue darting over Tavros’s cheek to his curved ear, up to the base of one horn and earning a string of delicious noises for his efforts.

He is more than a little proud of the way Tavros is almost squirming under his attentions, and he is definitey aroused by the flush on the smaller troll’s cheeks, the way air is panting out of him in gasps, the way his eyes are fluttering closed in pleasure. He has never felt the kind of high that is running through his veins as he drops a hand to slither between their bodies, grasping at the edge of Tavros’s pants.

“You alright there, motherfucker?” he asks, because he never wants to hurt the troll, will never do anything to make him unhappy. But neither does he wait after Tavros shyly nods his head, hand reaching down into his pants, shifting himself back so that his hand has room to clutch at the heated flesh he finds there. Tavros’s hands paw at the front of his shirt in a kind of desperation that is pitiful and cute like nothing else. He pumps the flesh in his hand, enjoys the feeling of Tavros’s bulge squirming against his skin, unfurling and curling around his fingers.

His own pants feel uncomfortable as his own bulge uncurls from its usual position and elongates in arousal. Gamzee presses fervent kisses against Tavros’s neck, tongue darting out to drag against the skin there.

“G-gamz,” The way Tavros whines his name is the most motherfucking beautiful sound in the world. He is panting against Tavros’s ear as he palms the slick muscle of his bulge, and he slowly guides one of the Taurus’s grasping hands to the top of his pants. The smaller troll doesn’t need any more direction than that. He pulls the elastic waistband out and plunges a hand down Gamzee’s ridiculously patterned pants, down the top of his boxers, and grabs confidently at the writhing bonebulge he finds there.

Gamzee hisses out a breath as fingers slide against his arousal and his bulge slides over and around the warm flesh, twining up Tavros’s wrist and holding his arm in place. He can feel Tavros’s bonebulge completing the same motion and he looks down at his own lap, at the view of Tavros’s arm disappearing into his clothing, and beneath that, his own hand stroking and being stroked by the other troll’s bulge.

It dimly registers in his mind that he should get a bucket but he doesn’t have the willpower to get off of Tavros’s lap and go find one. “Fuck it,” he mutters, still watching the veiled outline of his hand in Tavros’s pants. It’s a lovely view, and the soundtrack of the Taurus’s whimpers is a perfect match. But he wants more. Exactly what, he’s not sure, he only knows that there is an unfulfilled desire for something closer, more intimate. Something…

The hand still grasping Tavros’s horn slides down and the Capricorn is unbalanced for a moment but quickly settles himself and reaches down to pull his own pants down his hips as far as he can, baring the sight of his bulge wrapped tightly around Tavros’s hand, flesh tinted purple. Tavros is staring at it, his eyes wide, even as Gamzee reaches down to pull at Tavros’s pants. When he finds that he can’t pull them down because Tavros can’t really shift his weight out of them, he claws his way through the fabric and leaves it in shreds.

Their hands meet between their bodies and the writhing bulges that are wrapped around them retreat and instead wrap around each other. They move together, pumping and curling and squeezing until it’s far too much.

Gamzee leans in to lick at Tavros’s horn one last time as he feels the other troll begin to stiffen beneath him. He is more than surprised when Tavros’s teeth sink into the flesh of his shoulder as genetic material covers his bulge and it draws his own orgasm from his body.

They sit there, breathing deeply, think pans restarting and rebooting like a pair of old husktops. Tavros clears his throat and his fingers twitch in Gamzee’s grasp. The clown looks down at him, at the pretty blush across his face and the sated look in his eyes. Before he can say a single word, the Capricorn is pulled down into another kiss, gentler this time, so gentle, and passionate.

When they pull away again, Tavros nods like he just made up his mind about something, takes a short breath, and says, “I’m really red for you, Gamz, and uh, flushed. And I want you to consider being, uh, my, well, matesprit. If you want. But I mean if you don’t that’s, uh, okay, too.” His confidence drains out after the first few words but he’s trying so hard to keep looking brave and Gamzee Makara has been motherfucking charmed.

The tall troll presses his forehead to his friend’s and says, “Of course, you crazy motherfucker. Like I’d let you get away with not doing this again.” He smiles warmly as Tavros chuckles nervously at him and then he looks up at the counter.

“Oh, hey, the pie. I forgot about the pie.”