[ Back on the sofa, just like he said he would be, Dave lounges against one of the arm-rests and tries to insist to himself he's watching some snooty broad having dinner on the Titanic, unable to focus on a single line.
Hair blow-dried and combed, he's only sprayed deodorant to make sure the scent of sex is gone. No other reason. Just like he's put on a clean long-sleeved top for the sheer fact it's comfortable (slightly too tapered around the waist and hips) over his jeans. Who cares if it's the same deep plum as Gamzee's eyes? Total coincidence.
More than half the pizza remains, his appetite ravenous but from fucking nowhere he's conscious that Gamzee's going to be hungry too and it's a dick move to stuff his face first. The pile of clothes on the table next to the pizza box belongs to the absent man, not a single effort made to take them to him.
He looks up when he hears the bathroom door close, then back to the tv, which he doesn't see through his sunglasses. For once. ]
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Hair blow-dried and combed, he's only sprayed deodorant to make sure the scent of sex is gone. No other reason. Just like he's put on a clean long-sleeved top for the sheer fact it's comfortable (slightly too tapered around the waist and hips) over his jeans. Who cares if it's the same deep plum as Gamzee's eyes? Total coincidence.
More than half the pizza remains, his appetite ravenous but from fucking nowhere he's conscious that Gamzee's going to be hungry too and it's a dick move to stuff his face first. The pile of clothes on the table next to the pizza box belongs to the absent man, not a single effort made to take them to him.
He looks up when he hears the bathroom door close, then back to the tv, which he doesn't see through his sunglasses. For once. ]