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It’s early enough in the morning that nobody else is out yet, nobody but you. It’s more trouble than it’s worth for anyone to know what all that you get up to; not only do your peers typically not want to know, but, if they do, they’ve always got something to say about it.
For the most part, you still don’t sleep at night. Other trolls you know, the ones who are better adjusted to life on earth, and the ones who are good with humans, this is the hour when they begin to wake up, along with the stirring songs of birdbeasts. That’s all you can hear outside, but that’s not where your mind is.
It’s not entirely here. It hasn’t been in a while, like, since before you were old enough to have become your own person. You feel for the right key in your pockets, where your hands have been kept from the biting cold.
Tavros may very well be the only motherfucker who you can think of on the entire planet who has locks on his doors. With incredible luck, you’re one of many of whom he’s given a key; You have a special privilege, though, being that you’re the only person who’s allowed to swing by at absolutely any hour, or when he isn’t even hive.
You let yourself in, turning the knob and pulling the heavy front door open, slowly, so as not to disturb him. You were never one to operate yourself with much caution, but as you shut the door behind you, you move with thought and try to keep yourself light. You do only your best to make it so that not even your footsteps could make a sound, as it becomes evident to you that he is, in fact, not yet awake.
His hive smells like it always does. Like him, and also, regrettably kind of like the number of beasts he rescues. Your sense of smell is more vivid than it was. Sensations, in general, tend to feel stronger than they used to feel to you.
The transition from the cold outside weather to the warmth of Tavros’ hive melts away the tension in your muscle and you clench up your face a bit as that heat spreads. You proceed through the small main room, and meandering through the hallway leading to his respiteblock, you drag your fingertips against the paint on the wall.
Before you’re at the doorframe, you stop, feeling but a flicker of trepidation. He kept the door wide open; You wonder if he’s going to lose his shit, were he to now wake up and see you standing there. Tavros isn’t expecting you, for this whole visit itself is an uncontrolled act of impulse on your part, and, because you haven’t entirely thought that part through until now, it’s plausible that he might freak out no matter what you do to make your presence known. It doesn’t help that you are an already creepy looking motherfucker.
You approach his bed. It’s a lush, luxurious human bed, all of you have been afforded such nice things, but his bedsheets are rumpled and unmade, and there’s junk on the bed, presumably from the night before. A controller, the remnants of previous snacks, et cetera. Amongst those things, Tavros sleeps face-down. It happens; he can’t comfortably lay down in human beds without either resting on his stomach or his back, because of his horns. That’s no way for him to rest, the motherfucker might give himself a bad ache down the neck, so before you even think to try to alert him to your presence using your words, your hands are firm on his shoulders, to help turn him over.
Like you expected, he wakes up, and momentarily flails under your touch in what you imagine is sheer terror. You don’t bother saying anything, you just retract your hand, and Tavros yelps. Before you can even process any of that, you stumble backwards when he shines the light of his palmhusk right on your face. You grimace in pain, a reflexive honk escaping you. It feels like you’ve just noticed how long you’ve had a headache, now that your matesprit is shining a light brighter than the green sun in your face.
“O-oh! …Fuck!” Tavros stutters out, voice high. He blankly squints at you for a few moments, and then essentially stumbles out of his bed as he plants himself on his feet and pulls you into him, like he always does.
“Gamzee,” He hums into your shoulder, his voice retreating into a lower slur, “What’s up?… ‘s so early, you didn’t tell me you were coming,”
You run a hand up his back and squeeze him tighter; you can feel his cheek smush up against you. You speak through the feeling of your bloodpump having jumped straight into your chest.
“Just wanted to come over and see my motherfucking matesprit,” You tell him, “Is that something that makes a good reason?”
Tavros pulls away a bit, and his eyes are soft as they hold you, even though you can read the smallest tinge of annoyance in them.
“It’s the middle of the night, Gam, at least try to call me beforehand,”
“Didn’t wanna wake you up.” You reach forward to cup his face in your hands, thumbs through his side burns, which, you’ve figured out he really likes, by the way his eyes grow to be the size of saucers.
You smile about it, simply, before he suddenly perks up again.
“…Wait, then, why are you visiting..?”
“‘Cause we’re gonna take a nap together,”
You respond, easily, before swiftly scooping him up into your arms.
With a fair amount of struggling on your part, you crawl into Tavros’ bed with him, and gently lay him down to rest on his back, so that in turn, you can curl up and rest your head on his chest, which you entirely manage without struggle. You’re always surprised to feel how warm he is, it’s a marvel that a troll can have skin that makes you melt in such a way.
This was what you came here to do. Natural as anything, Tavros sends his hand carding through your hair, and soon, his chest rises highly, and falls with a sigh.
“…Are you sure you’re, um… Are you sure you’re okay?”
You nod, silently; really, though, you needed this. You know it still trips him out that he can’t discern what you’re feeling, but he doesn’t have to worry. You hope that he never has to worry again, and you could probably make sure of that, maybe.
“Can you tell me that, you know, verbally?”
You roll your head, and look up at him. He always looks at you in such a way that it can be hard for you to face him sometimes. Adoringly, like you aren’t the worst guy he knows, and with love, like nobody else ever has before. You lean in, your nose brushing against his cheek, and you press down a single, plush kiss into his skin.
“…I’m all motherfucking good,” You assure Tavros, just above your breath, “Don’t you worry ‘bout me.”
“You already know that it’s hard for me not to,”
He says, with a huff, “But, I… We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, I guess,”
“Works for me.” You answer, indulgently burying your face into his skin.
You can’t seem to get enough of this motherfucker.
Growing up, there was one thing you’d always need to have, perhaps even for the rest of your life, you’d assumed, because you’d become increasingly sick and irate without it.
Nowadays, it isn’t sopor slime that you need. It’s a good thing that Tavros is the only person left in the entire world who cares about you and what you do with yourself, because you’d be put to shame if any troll with a right mind knew just how much you need to be afforded this sort of tenderness. You don’t know for sure that you’d get withdrawal from not cuddling Tavros enough, but you’re really not looking to test that shit out, anytime soon.
He idly pets your back, his hand running up, and down, and so on, and his other arm is wrapped around you. He’s stiff, though, and you noticed some time ago that he’s been wagging his foot. He does that when he wants to say something.
“…Can we switch?” Tavros finally whispers, with uncertainty, like you really care all that much.
You answer by wrapping your arms entirely around him, rolling over to haul him over onto the top of your body. He helps readjust the covers, and the two of you situate your legs, entangling you closely together, and he giggles, thanking you as he does his best to settle, what with the horns he’s got. You’ve hypothesized that it must be more comfortable for him to lay on top of you than for you to lay on top of him, because more often than not, this is what Tavros prefers. Fortunately, it’s not too long before you’re all settled in and cozy, and things are tranquil. As much as you still kind of wish you were the one in his position, you can’t complain, you love how it feels to hold him in your very own arms. You know that in the past, there were motherfuckers who’d make him feel like there was something inherent about him that made him less valuable than others, but, you hold him like the easily breakable thing he is, the very valuable thing he is.
His hand travels up to caress your collar, which allows you to realize that after the while it’s been, he’s still at least half awake.
“You need something?” You mumble.
Tavros pushes himself, almost sitting up, and grinning, his eyes are barely even open. He leans forward to meet you with a kiss. It’s not especially passionate, not quite heated, but it still feels significant to you— a purr rumbles in your chest, like the butterflies you feel flitting around inside of you started their engines. The sound is to his delight, as he pulls away momentarily to chuckle at the sound and tell you that it’s cute. You don’t purr anywhere near as much as he does, you’re almost embarrassed to do so, and he knows that. He shortly joins in, having moved to speckle smaller kisses around the corners of your lips.
“…You know, you could’ve just asked me if you could spend the night with me,” He tells you, without moving even an inch away, “You didn’t have to break into my hive, I like waking up with you in my bed, on purpose,”
“I didn’t break in, bro,” You clarify, furrowing your eyebrow, “I came in through the front motherfucking door, like you ask me to.”
“Hey, I’m just saying, I’d have you here any day, every day…” Tavros trails off, his voice a little closer to your ear. He moves on to kissing you around the jaw, which twists you up inside (in a really good way, especially when his fangs poke you,) and now you don’t want to argue with him. “…I know that this is still new for us, so I’m clarifying, now that this specific thing has happened…”
You groan — It’s like you can’t even break into your matesprit’s hive and try to sneak into his bed before he wakes up for the day.
Tavros grabs your cheek and gives you an inquisitive smile, before you lean in again and reconnect your lips in affirmation. His mouth is always so sweet, and you feel like your fangs are too big and sharp to have Tavros’ lips on them. Your hand lands in his hair and you run through it, feeling the way it has a soft wave when he doesn’t put gel in it. His shave is a bit outgrown, it’s silky on your fingertips. Tavros has been doing his own hair for a while now, for most trolls back home would; but ever since everything’s gone down, you have not had one haircut. Your long hair only serves to make you look even more creepy, but Tavros likes it, and he’s the one who will take the time to sit down and brush the mats out of it, every now and again. It makes you feel like a well tended-to hoofbeast. A lot of your relationship feels like you are some sort of wild animal, and he, the one who has tamed you.
And he has, you would do anything for Tavros, you would end the whole motherfucking world for him, were it not for the fact that he doesn’t want you to; The only thing he wants is to love you, of all people.
You aren’t amazing at being loved, you’ve been a bit more inclined towards spades in your past relationships, so it’s been a surprise. You’ve always liked Tavros, but you didn’t think it’d ever come down to this, to him and you being flushed. It can’t be wrong if it comes so naturally; what would you have a heart for, if it wasn’t just to love him? You weren’t ever sure that you had one, or if you did, you never needed it. Having wringed the last breath out of someone’s throat, you’d thought that hearts were only good to keep motherfuckers alive, for their love could not save them from you in the end, no matter how strongly their hearts heaved; but, you’ve since come to learn that that is not true.
You see the miracle of love in the sparkle of Tavros’ eyes when he smiles at you, how your bloodpump races with the utterance of simple words by his voice. You actually like how he makes you feel, you like that you have someone to love.
You notice that he’s tucked his face into your neck, still purring steadily; this motherfucker has no sense of self-preservation. He is so, so close to you, and he trusts you so much, when he knows he shouldn’t. It’s not that you would ever hurt him, not while your head is on straight, but, you understand exactly how he’s always gotten himself into the sort of trouble that would lead him to people like you. He wears his heart on his sleeve, for the starved to plainly see. Those, whose hearts beat only to give them the strength to breathe, are always on the prowl, in search of something that is amiss. You search no more, your missing heart is right here, in your arms, probably on the cusp of wakeness.
“Night night, Tav,” You whisper, letting go of the tension in your body, but looping him in a little closer.
“I wanna get food in the morning,” He mumbles, sleepily, his soft breath caressing your throat, “Remind me,”
“I’ll get it right here for you when you wake up.”
“…No, I want to go somewhere, we can get… Like, pizza, or something, if you want,”
“…That’s fucked up.”