ic ϟ contact (drs/games/etc.)

[alphaing]

TG: sup
TG: cant answer since im off doing my own thing right now so leave a message
TG: tz this isnt where you get to hang out all day and hump my cherry sweet words like a color addict on a crack fix get out and stop licking this entry already girl
TG: later

Comments

[alphaing]

Just try not to jizz your shorts the second you see those blond locks rippling around the picture, s'all I'm asking.

[ Tugging on a belt-loop, he idly lets his hand skim over the curve of a cheek before heading into the lounge, all set to sink on that plush sofa in complete innocence. ]

[alphaing]

[ A smile slants his lips as he reclines with an arm hooked behind the sofa, eying Gamzee like he's straight out the mental clinic. ]

You really like your blonds, huh.

[ Feeling out waters, that's all. His knee rubs up against another, easy weight. ]

[alphaing]

[ He's never been so glad for his shades before, hiding the way his eyes flicker sideways to watch the hand on his thigh following the in-seam. Slouching further, he widens his legs.

Dave doesn't mind making both of them wait, it's a bittersweet ache building low in his gut. ]

[alphaing]

[ Lips twitch as he watches the screen ahead, caught between letting Gamzee tease him and putting his hand on his dick, jesus. Mentally cooling down, he turns that hand upside-down on his thigh and idly traces circles over the wrist, light and caressing to get those sensitive nerves shivering. ]

[alphaing]

[ He swallows reflexively when he feels lips ghost up his neck, trying to stem the resulting shiver and only digging his nails in around Gamzee's wrist instead. Heels press back against the sofa as his legs tense and Dave looks down at the painted face by his shoulder, brushing their lips in a series of not-kisses, noses bumping. ]

[alphaing]

[ His stomach concaves when that unexpected touch washes across, Dave's breath momentarily hitching in silence before he covers the mishap with a slow chaste kiss, barely giving back anything with a fluttering lick occasionally tracing the corners of lips. Light as a feather, hot and wet.

Nails rake over the inside of Gamzee's wrist, counterpointing the gentility, and his free hand curls between them to smooth the back of his knuckles along a jaw-line. Gay Chicken's evil twin, Cockerel Tease. ]

[alphaing]

[ There's nothing he can do about the way he hardens in his jeans, but he sure as hell tries to keep his hips firmly rooted without a single move and sinks his fingers behind an ear, grasping tightly to hold him near. That grin deserves a punishing nip, delivered without hurrying so the pain can set in as Dave eases back onto the sofa, forcing him to follow. ]

[alphaing]

[ To the dulcet tones of Di'Caprio, a hand slides down Gamzee's chest to split its fingers around the line of a similarly jean-clad cock, stroking experimentally to seek out the angle and knead a little more firmly over the head, giving him something to rub against. It's not as if Dave isn't doing the same thing, renouncing his ability to ignore getting pawed in the same moment he captures that kiss, keeping it as reserved as he can for now. Black curls spring up through his knuckles, soft and sensual. The way Dave parts his thighs to fit another pair in speaks for itself, almost as much as the lowered lashes slightly visible through his shades at such close range. ]

[alphaing]

[ There's something far more intimate about this slow progression, hot mouths parted together without kissing, silent save the occasional huff or quiet click of a gasp. Sliding his palm down a shoulder and waist he finds a home for it in the back pocket of Gamzee's jeans to drag his nails a little closer to skin, encouraging him to rock into the constant pressure rubbing up and down, feeling out how he gradually hardens.

He licks his own lips, hips shuddering when a particularly potent jolt of pleasure seizes his dick just so in that broad grip. Chin tipping up of its own accord, he closes his eyes and rocks harder to duplicate the sensation, grinding a furrow into the sofa with a shifting ass. ]

[alphaing]

[ A strangled ah escapes him when he basks under Gamzee's hands and mouth, tongue flicking out to taste painted lips without needing to raise his head; doesn't want to come off demanding. There isn't enough direct contact to make him feel anything other than aroused and frustrated, giving up palming a trapped erection to grip the belt-loops either sip of low-slung hips.

Dragging Gamzee down, Dave grinds up and presses a relieved sigh into a jaw-line, shivering as he moves directly against matching hardness, knees pulled up to cradle a pair of hips and keep Gamzee where he wants him. ]

Move. [ Rasping slightly, he keeps his grip on a belt and undulates slowly with lashes fluttering closed behind protective shades. ] Move like you want to fuck.

[alphaing]

Mm.

[ That would be a No, lips pressing into a thin line as he nuzzles a temple and arches up, rolling willingly against that forceful thrust. Screw saying please, he hasn't even started on his arsenal yet. ]

You want me dancing on your dick later, you better show me your moves now. Might get bored.

[ Fingertips skirt along a navel, barely ghosting through downy dark hairs leading to the waistband of boxers. ]

[alphaing]

[ Every limb curls itself around Gamzee instinctively, holding on when he finds his groove and letting Dave meet those thrusts with his own, the frottage too good and not enough as they find a rhythm and for several blissful minutes get to ride it out, literally in his case. Panting shallowly, his breath is knocked out of him with Gamzee's every earnest attempt to fuck his partner right into the lumpy cushioning.

The teeth on his ear make him whine, low and long, claw with painstaking care and control around a waist as an annoying t-shirt is shoved up to expose more of that caramel-tanned skin. A laughs works itself free when Gamzee pauses to do away with the fastenings on Dave's jeans, elbows shoving back into the couch to help him bend his knees out of the trouser-legs. The air hits his bare thighs and calves, ironically themed boxers today sporting the Joker. So, he dressed for the occasion; any gent would. ]

Whatever you want, man.

[ And then he's sitting up, kissing all over the side of Gamzee's neck to taste that delicious skin once again with thighs splayed over bent legs. ]

[alphaing]

[ Warm breaths huff against a damp throat as Dave drapes an arm over Gamzee's shoulders, enjoying the casual friction and the freedom of growing hard without jeans pinning down a protesting dick. Laughing quietly, he gives a shrug and nips an earlobe, palm sliding up under the hem of a shirt to feel the planes of a broad chest, the scant hairs over shapely musculature. ]

You can try, it'll be a miracle with - [ Glancing to the clock on the wall, he smirks. ] - ten minutes to go.

[ Tugging on that shirt, he decides he wants it off, now, and his hands all over Gamzee's body as soon as possible. ]