#gamzeejohn

Getting him to fall, and thus, lose, was proving to be a challenge, especially after it became apparent that it wouldn't occur without John's careful interference.

The Prankster within relished the challenge.

This was how John Egbert found himself, half-tangled in knots underneath Gamzee, desperately trying to keep himself from falling as the Bard of Rage calmly held himself up with only the occasional honk.

“Right hand, green Johnbro.” Gamzee grinned at him, his voice wavering in that odd way of his. John carefully lifted the hand in question and placed it on the nearest green circle, looking very much like a strange crab; his back to the ground, facing upwards.

He glanced above, and felt a blush light itself up in his face almost immediately. His precarious position put his head directly in between Gamzee's thighs – thankfully, neither were wearing their God-Tier outfits (fake or real), or otherwise there would've been a drastic increase in awkwardness. This, however, gave John an idea.

He could already feel his Gambit climb a few points.

Spinning the dial with his hands (or feet for that matter) was impossible, so he had long since settled for using the Breath. Now was the time to use the Breath for less... noble matters.

Breathing deeply, he let himself relax, extending his body and attempting to find the currents. Breathe in, Breathe out, Breathe in, Breathe out.

Winding the Breath, coiling it like a rope, he let it slither around the troll's waist, caressing him under his plain black shirt.

“Aw hell... bit of a breeze in here bro.” He could feel the troll shiver slightly under the Breath's touch, and he felt himself grinning – the Clown didn't realise what was going on. Time to step it up a little.

Seeping along his legs, gently winding around his thighs, John delicately manoeuvred the Breath to his prize – Boxers. Oh Gamzee was going down.

The Clown Troll made a noise that was somewhere of a cross between a honk and moan, and his arms wobbled slightly. John let himself grin as his Prankster's Gambit skyrocketed.

“Woah...”

It becomes incredibly apparent you didn't really think this through when he collapses on top of you. Doubly so, due to the placement of your bodies. You currently have a face full of clown crotch.

Your Prankster's Gambit plummets when you realise that your careful ministrations have given him an erection. Any minute now, you are going to die of embarrassment as Gamzee mumbles something you can't quite decipher as it's currently being muffled by your own slowly building erection.

“... Gamzee.”

“Yhh?”

"Well, of course a motherfucker has other friends." Gamzee's tone is particularly jocular, and the look on his face positively devilish. Unfortunately, John missed that. "But I thought some gettin' to know each other was in order on our parts too."

John returns from the kitchen, and frisbees a paper plate in Gamzee's direction as he rounds the couch. He didn't really expect Gamzee to catch it, because the funny thing about throwing a paper plate is that it never really goes exactly where it's aimed. With speed that John didn't even know Gamzee possessed, he snatched the plate out of the air.

"Come, Sit, my motherfuckin' bro." He pats the spot next to him with his free hand, and John, veritably impressed, sits without questioning. "Our bosom-buddies are all romantically entwined now, I figure we best be getting to know one another on a personal level, am I right?"

And despite the numerous objections he could pose, John just sighs and mumbles some sort of affirmation.

It happens again. One minute they're eating, and talking about the best prank they ever pulled off, and the next they're sucking face like horny teenage boys. This time, John doesn't even have plausible deniability. Gamzee had leaned closer, but John kissed Gamzee first. Tangled his hands in the knotted rat's nest of Gamzee's hair and pulled him into it. In his defense, Gamzee didn't even pretend to be surprised.

Though, John is unsure when he ended up on his back on the couch, but hey, Gamzee is surprisingly light, considering all he eats, and his size. Gamzee has settled himself comfortably between John's thighs. He's got John's shirt rucked up to his armpits, hands anywhere he can reach, and John's hands still in his hair.

John kisses hungrily, like he just can't get enough. Gamzee kisses slow, hot and wet. They find a happy medium, of groping hands and ardent kisses.

Gamzee shifts, kissing at whatever skin he can reach. He nuzzles at the warms skin of John's neck, and positively soaks up the way he jumps when he nips at him. He soothes the tender spot with a kiss, presses more kisses and sucks bruises into the pale skin.

And John is too busy flexing his fingers in Gamzee's hair, trying to rein in his shaky breathing. Gamzee pulls back for a moment before ducking back down to trail kisses over John's abdomen, brushing a thumb over one nipple, his other hand at John's hip. John gulps down a deep breath, tilting his chin down so he can watch Gamzee. 

Slowly, what John missed because of the blood rushing through his ears, becomes audible again and he realizes someone is knocking at the apartment door.

John, in a word, panics. He shoves Gamzee off of him and he hits the floor with an 'OOF'.

"Coming!" He tumbles over the back of the couch, in his haste to get to the door. He doesn't miss the muffled 'Already?' from the living room floor.

He barely takes the time to pull his shirt down all the way before he opens the door.

"Hello, John." Rose smiles warmly, and raises on elegant eyebrow as she gives him a once over.

"Oh. Hi Rose, I wasn't expecting you." He stammers his greeting, but Rose waves it off.

"Isn't it customary to hand a sock on the doorknob when you bring someone home?"

"What? No- I didn't- It's not like th-" Rose silences him with a single look.

"Don't worry, I will let you get back to your tryst, I just came to by to drop a book off for Dave." She holds the book in question out for him to take.

"It's not a tryst, Rose." He informs her, taking the book offered.

"Fine then, whatever it is you'd like to call it. Maybe a hookup, if you will. Hello Gamzee." John nearly jumped out of his skin, he hadn't even heard him walk up. He's officially run out of words.

"Hey there, Rose-sister." He grins at her, scratching his head. He glances at John before speaking again. "My main motherfucker, Karkat has been blowing up my phone for a sick minute, and I didn't even notice. I figure he's probably getting all antsy cause I haven't showed my face round there yet."

"Oh, what a coincidence, I was just heading home. Why don't you accompany me, Gamzee?"

"Well, don't that just sound like a pretty plan, sister. I'm down." John opens his mouth, but finds nothing to say. 

Gamzee offers an arm, and winks one last time at John. Rose waves good bye, and they set off. And leave John still bewildered in his doorway, confused, turned on and frustrated.

He waits approximately ten minutes, pacing and cleaning up a bit, before he opens his computer, and pulls up pesterchum.

— ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] at 20:04 —

EB: rose, it keeps happening. i don’t know why, or how to stop, oh my god.

— tentacleTherapist [TT] is now an idle chum! —

EB: gamzee is so infuriating! just the way he talks, and the way his smell just takes over everything! and how he doesn’t fucking know what personal space is. EB: and whenever he’s around, i just can’t keep my hands off him.  EB: or my mouth for that matter. EB: no one can know about this, rose. no one! TT: JOHN. EB: oh, shit.  TT: FIRST OF ALL. TT: ROSE ISN’T HERE, IF YOU COULDN’T TELL BY THE IDLE STATUS, YOU INSUFFERABLE ASSWIPE.

— tentacleTherapist [TT] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 20:09 —

— carcinoGeneticist [CG] began trolling ectoBiologist [EB] at 20:09 —

CG: AND SECONDLY, WHY YOU’VE CHOSEN MY GIRLFRIEND TO WHINE ABOUT YOUR PROBLEMS TO, IS BEYOND ME. CG: SHE’S NO PSYCHOLOGIST. AS MUCH AS SHE ENJOYS DABBLING, THAT IS NOT HER PROFESSION. AND YOU, YOU NEED PROFESSIONAL HELP. EB: ugh!! CG: AND, THE THIRD AND FINAL BULLET POINT. CG: GAMZEE? REALLY? CG: HAW HAW, YOU TWO ARE QUITE THE PAIR OF JOKERS. I’M SURE YOU’LL BE QUITE HAPPY WHEN YOU COME TO TERMS WITH IT. EB: karkat…  CG: BUT NO. REALLY? OF ALL THE SHITHEADS WE MUTUALLY KNOW, YOU HAD TO PICK MY BEST FRIEND? CG: DON’T WE SEE ENOUGH OF EACH OTHER? IF I AM DRAGGED INTO DOUBLE DATING WITH YOU, I VERY WELL MAY HAVE TO GOUGE MY EYES OUT, TO ESCAPE THAT HORRIBLE FATE. EB: karkat!! CG: WHAT?  EB: you are such a bag of dicks! EB: reading your girlfriend’s pesterchum? yeah, grade a boyfriend material! EB: and it’s not like i hand picked gamzee, like ‘yeah. mm, gimme a piece of dat.’ EB: not that it’s any of your business!  EB: so just shut up!

At first the smell overwhelmed you. His smell dominates the apartment he shares with his best friend. (That is, your best friend's boyfriend.) Within five minutes, You wanted to throw all the windows open, and air the place out. After an hour, you actually needed to step outside for some air. Dave accompanies you, to smoke a cigarette. ('Dave, that's not helping.' He just shrugs and blows the smoke straight up in the air.)

You're reluctant to go back in. Not because you don't want to get to know Dave's boyfriend better, or anything!! You just... You drag your feet on the way back up, and Dave stops you half way up the second. "If you feel like a third wheel, you don't have to stay, man." And he looks over his shades in a way that you know is sincere. "What? It's fine!" You actually kind of enjoy Tavros' company. He's really geeky and you two can discuss the finer points of a few choice Matthew McConaughey films. Plus you've never actually seen Dave so... animated.

It's Gamzee that's the... well, not problem, but.... He doesn't seem to know what personal space boundries are. He's frequently sprawled all over Tavros, when you'd seen them before. You speculate that with Dave present, Gamzee has decided latching onto you is the next best thing. He'll drape an arm over your shoulders, and lean heavily on you, if the two of you are standing around. You're strong enough to support the added weight, but he's still at least half a foot taller than you and the first time he did it without warning, it nearly resulted in disaster.

He has this way of settling onto the couch and slowly encroaching into your space, somehow. You still haven't figured how he does it.

You're not timid, you make sarcastic remarks or make passing jabs at him in retaliation but he either doesn't catch them or just let's them slide on by.

He doesn't take no for an answer. Once he gets an idea into his head, he makes it happen. It's usually such simple things like,

"Hey man, want a drink? maybe some motherfuckin' faygo?"

"No, it's okay."

"Really? It's seriously made of miracles."

And despite your protests you end up with a faygo in hand.

And that's sort of how you ended up making out like a pair of horny teenagers in the kitchen. You're not even sure how it happened. One second, the two of you are actually having a conversation (Details are blurry), and the next his lips are on yours, and your hands are ensnared in his hair, and-

You shove him half way across the room the moment you hear footsteps approaching and he doesn't seem too offended. Actually, he can apparently read your mind, because Dave walks in and everything is so casual.

All of the casual. Dave isn't suspicious at all, heading straight for the fridge and giving you a moment to swipe the back of your hand across your lips, making sure none of Gamzee's makeup transferred. Gamzee has sprawled himself onto a kitchen chair, and watches you lazily.

Okay so maybe Dave is a little suspicious, but he heads back to the living room with Tavros' drink without commenting on the awkward air in the room.

Guess you'll have to be more careful in the future.

Wait.