Dirk laughs, presses his lips to the sweat-drenched nape of your neck, lets his teeth scrape the skin. "Don't worry, babe, I'm not going to leave you hanging. I've got something special for you. Get up."

You're going to leave the toybox in the closet tonight, because you are fairly certain that you can ruin him six ways to Sunday without even a pair of fuzzy handcuffs to back you up, and you really don't want to give the poor guy an aneurysm or something.

Gamzee sits there all to grinning, because he gets this by now, he does: Equius says Do you want me to when he means I fucking want to so bad I can't fucking stand it, like getting all close to what he wants would make it snap like one of his motherfucking robots. Seems like, if you pity a brother with a hangup like that, about the only motherfucking thing to do is take the decisions right the fuck out of his strong hands.

Equius agrees to bet on a robot fight. Dirk is gambling on what happens afterward.

This isn't a thing Equius does; surrendering to impulses is for other people. He has always been one to measure, to strategize, to rein himself in as best he can. It was a necessity. Even his liaisons to satisfy the drones were more matters of negotiation and restraint than unbridled passion, adequate but not exceptional. But as Strider follows him out of the hangar and down the corridor, it's all Equius can do not to turn on him, not to attack him right there, not to pin him to the wall with hands around his throat and knee between his thighs.

First snippet, for asukaskerian. Hell yes, I will write the cuddly after-porn bit for these two! Unf. I am picturing them probably in similar circumstances here as in Asuka’s Uniform Kink pesterlog. :3