Intermissions (homestuck)

progress an escape

His arms snaked around your waist, clasping behind your back and tightening affectionately. He listened as you gradually caught your breath while nuzzling his head into the soft flesh of your stomach. You shuddered with a slight aftershock of the ecstasy that had moments ago tore through you at a sweltering speed. Through your panting and labored breathing you released a shaky laugh that quaked with your more than satisfied libido.

“You ok?” your juggalo’s deep voice asked, the bass of his words resonating in your ears as a soft purr and vibrating the rib cage his face was buried in. Your hand moved to his snarled hair, tangling in the untamable dark locks and noting him to your shaking hands. Your other curious palm pressed flat against his bare shoulder, right above those rippled lean muscles.

“Yeah…more than fine, actually.” You answer when he seemed to have grown a bit nervous at your silence. With a contented sigh you felt him tightening his arms around you more firmly, adjusting his hips so that you could move your legs out of the extended angle they had been poised in. Your cheeks dusted over with a rosy blush as you sluggishly brought up a hand to wipe the fresh sheen of glistening sweat from your forehead.

You were relieved he couldn’t see your embarrassment. He’d never said anything to amount to stress you out over it. You just felt like you should be, simply put. For some reason you always felt that slightest inkling of mortification after you’d done, well, it. Like you wondered if he would be merely amused by the sounds you’d made or the things you’d pleaded for him to do when your mind was cloudy with a desire to be pleasured. Especially this time. He’d been…different, to be blunt. Like the sloth like haze of being high was cleared and an intense, overwhelming craving was uncloaked.

It wasn’t like he had forced you to do anything which had transpired earlier, but you certainly felt like this time, he wasn’t holding back. Your sore hips were undoubtedly a testament to that. Chill bumps raced across your skin just thinking about it and your body almost shuddering remembering it all. Fuck, was he amazing at sex.

Clearing your throat you blinked back your rising edgy anxiety and indolently played with his nappy hair. To your surprise he then in response gave a lazy moan of content. You leaned back against the pillows more relaxed knowing he was now at his customary perpetual ease. As standard and typically Gamzee as cloud nine was for him, that is. However, no matter how ordinary he had returned to, you weren’t ready for what he said next.

He nuzzled nose gently into exposed flesh, releasing a pliable moan before whispering. “I love you…” you froze, breath hitching in your throat and eyes flying wide. You soundlessly opened your cotton dry mouth, searching for words before a single syllable pushed its way from your throat. “W-what?” your muscles tensed as turned his head to gaze up at you from where you gawked incredulously.

He blinked, focusing on you and tilting his head to the side while a small shy grin slipped onto his face. “Karkat,” he hesitated gradually sliding his hands out from under you and sitting up to kneel over you. He then moved forward forearms framing your head atop the pillows and tousled hair gently whisking across your forehead. He leaned closer giving you no room to look away and forcing you to look up at him. Your fingers knotted in the sheets, yet in a completely diverse way then had earlier.

“I love you.” he repeated eyes piercing yours as a sloppy grin pulled the corners of his lips up seconds before they captured yours. Lips on your he kept his eyes locked on yours only letting them fluttered closed when you did the same. You moved your arms to clasp around his neck before molding your mouth to his in a mutual kiss.

It was softer, more restricted of the intense lust yet seemingly centered on a greater passion. You inhaled his supple scent that always clung to every article of clothing you now wore. That sweet smell of burned sugar mixed with an undertone of salty smoke. You knew he worked as a bartender at some no name joint that had him working at ungodly hours. The nights he was off from mixing cheap watered down liquor with generic brand cola and supplying inebriated customers with their undoubtedly alcoholic beverage was a silent god send to you.