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Sometimes, when they thought he was asleep, he could hear his squad whispering about him. He heard them talk about his strength and his nobility, his aristocratic mannerisms and his strict sense of decorum. Whenever one of their numbers had died and was replaced by a new recruit, he listened to them tell stories about his own exploits as their leader. He commanded their respect, so that even when he was sleeping, they dared not speak against him.
It please him that it was so. It was how things were meant to be. His squad gave him their unconditional respect, and he gave respect where it was due. The sweet sting of subordination was like a caress after coming home from a long campaign. Leading the lowblooded trolls of his squad with controlled authority and returning to kneel at the feet of a highblood reassured him that all was right with the universe. Everything was functioning with smooth efficiency, and everyone was in the place they were born to occupy.
But more and more often lately, he felt out of place in the position of subordination he was once pleased to occupy. This was one such occasion. Beads of sweat glistened on his brow as he typed, trying to ignore the man sitting cross-legged against the wall behind him. He knew Gamzee wasn’t looking at him so much as he was looking through him. He had been falling into these moods almost daily since his last rage episode, which had shaken the Subjugglator mothership and the nearest terrestrial port so violently he had actually incurred a punishment from the Grand Highblood. Gamzee had never been punished before. But then, no matter how the Grand Highblood personally felt about his descendent, he couldn’t allow him to turn the judicial backbone of troll society into a bloodbath.
Equius heard Gamzee shift and tensed, pausing mid-sentence, until he was sure Gamzee wasn’t going to move. Most of Equius’s apprehension came from the tightness of anticipation. It was not Gamzee's presence itself that he feared, though he knew that at any moment, should he make efficient eye contact with Gamzee, the purpleblood could force his worst nightmares to dance before his waking eyes or turn his mind into a shadow puppet for him to control. Such prospects were certainly terrifying, but Gamzee usually did not resort to such meaningless torture. He was usually more physical in his domination, channeling through his body the rage that plagued his mind. There was something purposeful, almost desperate, in the manner he conducted his violence against Equius in the throes of black passion, and Equius knew that there was something beneath the surface that Gamzee did not show him. He did not ask, because it was not his place. But when Gamzee sat across the room, gazing at him with those lidded eyes for what sometimes became hours at a time, he knew that whatever it was that was perpetually churning in Gamzee’s think pan was slowly coming to a boil.
It always made him feel ridiculous to miss the old Gamzee, the carefree clown that had infuriated him so much on Alternia. But back in those days, he could talk to Gamzee, express his displeasures and his grievances, and Gamzee would laugh it all off and respond to him with open honesty. His black feelings had felt more romantic back then, more hate and less fear. Now, even though his relationship with Gamzee indulged most of his black fetishes, it didn’t feel like a romance at all. Gamzee didn’t hate him. He was just using him. And while Equius praised him outwardly for embracing his position in the hierarchy, inwardly he felt a stab of regret every time he realized that their romance was only a game. He wasn’t even a friend to Gamzee anymore. He was just another toy.
“Bro,” Gamzee said, and Equius jumped, nearly breaking the reinforced keyboard beneath his fingers. “What motherfucker are you typing your motherfuckin’ messages at?”
The strange question took him off guard, but he answered. “Nepeta.”
“Kittycat girl?” Gamzee asked.
“Yes.”
“You still get your motherfucking talk on with that peablooded bitch?” he asked, and Equius felt a shiver of anger that he quickly repressed.
“She’s my moirail,” he answered, and feeling a little bold, he added, “You know that.”
“Yeah, I motherfuckin’ know that,” Gamzee said, and he fell silent again. Equius felt his apprehension grow as the minutes ticked by, sending the next message to Nepeta even as he prepared himself for Gamzee’s inevitable outburst.
“What happened to my motherfuckin’ moirail?” Gamzee finally mumbled, and Equius stopped typing again.
“Pardon?” he asked, turning his head to hear him better.
“What happened to motherfuckin’ Karkat?” Gamzee asked, only slightly louder. “Where’d that motherfucker get his wicked self to? How come he never sends me no motherfuckin’ messages?”
Equius planned his response before he replying, “He disappeared on Conscription Day. Don’t you remember?”
Gamzee paused a few seconds before saying, “Yeah, I remember.” It seemed as though he would fall silent again, but after a beat he said, “I haven’t been up on any motherfuckin’ chat clients since I been caught up in this motherfucker, have I?”
“I don’t know,” Equius said. “Have you?”
“No, bro, I haven’t got my chat on with no motherfuckers since what I can remember being here,” he said, sounding almost thoughtful. “What you two motherfuckers be up and chatting about?”
Equius considered the question, debating whether to answer him truthfully, and his high standards of conduct won out in the end. “She’s coming to visit,” he told him.
“Here?”
“Yes.”
“Can a motherfucker just sneak his moirail up into this motherfuckin’ prison like all that simple?”
“Yes.”
Gamzee thought about that for a second. “Bro, how come I don’t get no motherfuckin’ visitors?” he asked.
Because you’re too dangerous, Equius thought to reply, but he held his tongue. Gamzee spared him the challenge of a real reply, immediately following the question with another: “Can I come get my chill on with you two motherfuckers when she gets her wicked self up in this shit?”
This question was worse than the last, and Equius grimaced, trying to think of a polite way to say never in a million lifetimes. The next message he received relieved him of that responsibility.
“She’s not coming,” he said with a sigh of relief. “Her ship’s collided with a meteor.”
“That’s no motherfuckin’ good,” Gamzee said, almost as though he were trying to comfort him.
“No...” Equius said, reading the string of messages that followed. “The living quarters are intact, but the damage to the navigational portion of the ship is extensive. It will need to be repaired.”
“Sometimes shit gets kicked in unfair ways, brother,” Gamzee said, and now Equius was sure he was offering friendly condolences. He didn’t know whether to feel pleased or concerned.
A few minutes passed, and Equius typed to Nepeta, who was informing him of their new plans. He was not entirely pleased with the arrangements. Apparently, Aradia and Kanaya were attempting to bum a free ride off of Vriska and Terezi. He frowned. He and Vriska had continued to conduct business long after they had ceased being neighbors, but he still considered it distasteful for Aradia to make such deals with outlaws. He had known she would make this difficult the moment she'd told him she couldn’t find Nepeta. He had told her specifically where to locate Nepeta’s hive, and he knew she wasn’t a fool. She was purposely contradicting him, probably at the whim of the voices she heard. If he weren’t so enamored with her grace and natural nobility, he would have been annoyed with her blatant disregard for his instructions. But instead, he just found it rather sexy.
He started and stiffened as he felt a pair of hands rest on his shoulders, and Gamzee placed his chin on the top of his head, reading the conversation with disinterest. He broke into a sweat, but Gamzee didn’t seem to notice.
“Bro, if you can be all sneaking your moirail up into this motherfucker,” Gamzee began, not really focusing on the words his eyes were skimming over, “do you think it’d be possible to sneak a brother up out?”
Equius dared not move as Gamzee’s hands slid across his chest, pulling him into a loose and deceptively harmless hug. He swallowed thickly and replied, “Yes, I believe that would make sense.”
He felt the muscles in Gamzee’s face move, and he could imagine the sly smile sneaking across his features. “That’s some bitchtits wicked news, brother,” he said, reaching over and closing Equius’s husktop. “We’re about to be getting our celebration on about that.”
Equius shuddered as Gamzee drew both his hands up his face and slipped his glasses off, setting them next to his closed husktop.