The first time Gamzee Makara tried to hold your hand, you thought it was a mistake. You figured he was really going for your wrist to steer you away from a wall or something, but had missed, taking your hand in his instead. You were the one to pull away, startled by the touch. You couldn't tell if he was confused or disappointed by the odd click he made in the back of his throat. You wanted to see his face, but that wasn’t out of the question.

After all, you couldn't see anyone's face.

A couple weeks ago, you had been in a car wreck when your father was driving you home after a Magic tournament. The truck that had slammed into his car was going so fast, the whiplash sent your head into the window, damaging your occipital lobe. At least, that's the way the doctor's described it. You were blinded by the impact, for an indeterminable amount of time.

The first week you stayed home with your dad, the both of you recovering from the wreck. Neither of you had too major of injuries, and your father was back at work in no time. You, on the other hand, had no idea how to deal with school, your vision not seeming to return as quickly as you'd hoped.

Terezi was the one to suggest a chaperone, someone to lead you around the halls until your sight came back. She had to come to you with this suggestion, because you wouldn't go to her, despite the insistence from both Gamzee and Aradia to speak with someone who had been blind their whole life. You felt bad, almost like you were showing off that you'd get better where she never would, but when she came to your house with Karkat and Gamzee in tow, she was smiling as she gave tips about being blind.

It was decided that for the majority of the school day, Gamzee would be the one leading you around, as he shared many of your classes. Karkat would have to take you to lunch, sharing AP English with you, but otherwise, your clown best friend would be with you throughout the day and help you home after school. This was all cleared by the teachers, and with everything in place, you were able to go back to school with only a few incidents of running into walls and people.

Each time Gamzee had led you around, he would either take your wrist, or have you hold onto his backpack or sleeve. He never held your hand, and that was more at your request than anything. You didn't want people to get the wrong idea, that there was something between the two of you. Not that it would bother you (because you had thought about it, secretly, all kept to yourself), but you hadn't told anyone yet you were gay, and you were already picked on enough, you didn't need to add fuel to the fire.

But after a week of leading you around, he slipped up, grabbing your hand instead of your wrist. You think you were blushing as you muttered something like 'sorry' when you retracted your fingers from him. You didn't think much of it at first, it was just a mistake, you were sure of it.

It was the next day you thought something else might be going on. He tried again, this time taking your hand as he pulled you away from an oncoming crowd. But he didn't let go immediately, giving your hand a squeeze before dropping it. He did this several other times during the day, finding some excuse to get his fingers around your palm, and by the end of fifth period, you had calmed your reflex to pull away.

The next day, he was a little more direct. When you knew the hallway was clear, he would still take your hand, holding it tightly, as if he were afraid to let go. During lunch, he sat close, your thighs bumping each other as he set his palm on your knee.

"Gam, w-what are you, um, doing?" you asked him.

"Making sure Tavbro knows I'm here," he answered simply.

"Oh, but, umm... I always know you're here."

"Do I need to--?" He started removing his hand from your leg, but you put yours on top of his, settling it back where it was.

"It's fine," you tell him, smiling.

Though you can't see his painted face, you assume by the squeeze to your knee that he's smiling.

The next few days, he would be slow to lace your fingers together, and you smile as he leads you around, leaning a little into his side as you travel the halls.

On Friday when Gamzee's taking you to your last class, your hands tight together, you tug lightly at his hand, calling his name.

"What's up, Tav?"

"Do... do we ever get, um, strange... looks?"

"Why would we get unmiraculous looks?"

"For, umm... T-this?" You squeeze his hand for emphasis.

"Do you see any mother fuckers giving us weird looks?"

"You know I can't," you correct him, furrowing your brow slightly.

"Then what does it matter?"

You smiled softly. "I... I guess it doesn't matter."

You could hear him chuckle. He lifted the hand of yours he was holding, and you could feel the cool touch of his lips on your knuckles. You feel your face heat up, but you don't pull away.

Gamzee spends the weekend with you, under the guise of helping you with your homework (which is far from what either of you actually do). You two hang out, listening to music, watching (well, you listened) to television, pigging out on junk food, and walking around the park that was only a block away.

On Saturday night, you were both on your bed, just talking about this and that. Gamzee was laying down (you heard him shift) and you were sitting cross-legged beside him, your hand atop the one he had on your knee. You two were talking about what to do during winter break, and he was talking about the lights display he wanted to do for Christmas, how it included clowns.

You told him you hope you could see it. He told you you would get to, and if you couldn't see by then, he'd find a way that you could when your sight returned.

This led you to start thinking about how you missed your vision. You had shoved it aside for the most part, reassuring yourself it would come back in time. But there were things you missed, like your books (you didn't see the point of learning braille, your condition far from permanent), the sunset at the park, the leaves changing colours outside, even television.

And your friends' faces, had any of them changed? It had only been a little over three weeks since you'd last seen them at this point, but a lot could change a person in less than a day. You knew that now more than ever. Did Karkat still scowl all the time? Was Terezi always grinning the really creepy grin? Did Eridan still have the sneer, or Feferi that always cheerful smile?

What about Gamzee? You could tell by the way he spoke, he was still all smiles, but what about his make-up? He always had this thing since he was little, to paint his face like a clown, something he never really seemed to grow out of. Was he wearing it right now? You couldn't imagine why he wouldn't be, but suddenly the thought wouldn't leave you alone, that he didn't have any of the gray and white on.

"Hey, Gam?"

"Yeah, Tavbro?"

You hesitate, thinking how odd this might be. "It might be a, umm, weird request, but can I... umm, t-touch your face?"

You feel the bed shift as he sits up, his knees knocking into yours as he settles directly in front of you. He takes your wrists, not saying anything or asking any questions as he brings your hands to his cheeks.

"Whatever Tav needs to do," he says softly, keeping a loose grip on your hands.

You brush your thumbs over his sharp cheekbones, and you can feel the grease paint rub off. You smile, relief flooding you that your best friend hasn't changed at all. Deep down, you knew he hadn't changed, you don't think Gamzee could, but it was still nice to feel it, to feel he was still your goofy clown.

"Mother fucker found what he was looking for?" he asks, his thumb grazing the back of your hand.

You nod slowly, your fingers lingering on his face. "I just wanted to... see? - your face again... Does that, um, make any sense?"

His head nods in your hands, and when your thumb moves to his lips, you can feel the upturn of his smile. He leans forward a bit, and you can feel his breath pass your lips. "Is it all right if this mother fucker sees Tav?"

"You can already see--"

His lips gently touching yours stops your argument effectively.

You tense up almost immediately, not sure how to respond. The last time you had been kissed was a year ago when Vriska tried to ask you out. She had bit you and it was rough, nothing like Gamzee's chapped but soft mouth.

The kiss ended too quickly, though, when Gamzee pulled away. You frown, disappointed it was over already, and slightly confused.

"Sorry," he mutters, letting go of your wrists as he pulls back from you. You wonder why he's apologising, especially when you wanted him to keep kissing you, when you realise why he stopped.

You hadn't kissed back.

You pull his face back to yours haphazardly, missing his mouth by an inch before correcting yourself. Your lips now aligned, you kissed him a little harder, if only to show him he did nothing wrong. He puts his arms around your back to pull you closer as he eagerly returns the kiss. When he pulls on you a little more, you readjust so you're sitting in his lap, your hands in his hair and his on your back.

He pulls away slightly, rubbing his nose against your cheek. "You know what this mother fucker sees?"

"W-what?"

"The most beautiful miracle anyone could lay their eyes on."

You roll your eyes at the cheesy line, despite the blush on your face. "Gam, that was terrible."

"Know what else is terrible?"

"What?"

"This." His cold hands sneak under your shirt, running along your sides, and you can't stop yourself from giggling when he starts to tickle you. You fall on your back, hopelessly trying to push him off, as he leaned over you.

At some point, your dad knocks on your door, telling the two of you to quiet down, and Gamzee silences you with a kiss that turns into a sloppy make out session. When you two finally retire for the night, Gamzee slept next to you instead of his usual spot on the floor, holding you while you both slept.

In the morning, you woke up to a blurry image of messy black hair and smeared white. Gamzee was quick to jolt awake at your squeal of joy, and when he asked you what happened, you could only smile and say: