"Probably kill my boner gettin' up in your cold shit," Dave snorted as he ran the hand on Gamzee's hip around to rest on his ass, pulling him into each slow roll as the color crept up along his cheeks and ears and over the bridge of his nose. He licked his lips at the smell wafting up between them, suddenly wanting some of Gamzee's grape soda. "Hold still a minute," he muttered as he pulled his hands back, hooking his thumbs over the waistband of his pants and pulling them down just enough to let the still, warm air onto his cock.