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Tavros has been staring at Gamzee all funny for some ticks upwards of ten minutes, the latter of whom is beginning to get the squirms of when he’s all to feeling he’s done something what he weren’t supposed to, but has no comprehension as to what he up and messed this time. Shit ain’t a pleasant feeling, but he’s got no knowing of how to fix any of that motherfucking noise so he just keeps his ass sat down, his trap shut and smiling, and his gaze fixed to the most finest of bros he’s ever been privileged to get his gaze fixed to.
It’s getting to be a hells of uncomfortable staring contest that Gamzee’s like to be losing, ‘cause he keeps spacing the fuck out and admiring the shit out of the miraculous motherfucker sitting all beautifully next to him, which ain’t too unlike staring all in itself if a brother's being honest.
Could be all the admiration going on what has Tavros looking all sorts of fidgety nervous, but he’s got that other look to him now too, the one where he’s getting his whimsies all aligned in a purposeful sort of way to do an action of the most confident variety. Gamzee gets to be relaxing somewhat, seeing as shit is going about solving itself and he ain’t so much as twitched. Miracles.
The way shit’s getting itself to be sorted now though, seems to be through Tavros moving closer, lip caught between his fangs for concentration purposes and it’s a sight Gamzee is seeing all up close and personal while his pump biscuit jams up his windhole something wicked. His limbs and all the rest of him aren’t for moving at this moment, and he’s staring wide and surprised and hopeful at the face two inches away like if Tavros is the Messiahs themselves presenting him sweeps-worth of Faygo.
There’s no Faygo, but Gamzee’s found he’s somehow managed an affirmative cranial bounce meaning to be ‘yes please’ and this is so much fucking better than fizzy liquid sugar. Only way this bitching moment could get any brighter would be if he could be getting his mouth to move instead of being frozen still like a motherfucker what's been made stone.
Tavros sits back after too short a time-space with an expression that’s not sure what it’s like to be being at the second, and Gamzee’s lips are tingly with ghost pressure and his face starts with the tear-gushing because his miracle brother is fucking straight-up perfect and all that sentimental shit that he’s never got his expression on for properly. He’s feeling as like he’s made of special stardust on the inside, all glittering warm and magical even if he’s not to be worth fuck-all in comparison to whose staring at him all confusion-filled.
Speaking’s not getting him nothing but choking noises, so all that’s for Gamzee to do is pull Tavros in for a hug and hope he’s doing silent explaining okay.