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Karkat sits up from his position on the recliner and continues to gripe. “You know John, if you had gotten off your lazy ass and went shopping yesterday we wouldn't be completely lacking in beverages right now.”
You lift your head to look at him. It was too hot to go out yesterday! It’s too hot to go out today, too. He’s right though, you’re definitely due for a trip to the market. “I told you, we still have a few cans of leftover soda in the fridge from the party.”
“No. Hell no. I am not drinking your human Faygo equivalent.”
“Karkat, we have Faygo here on Earth too… It’s a shitty brand but we have it.” Karkat scrunches his face at this, and you can’t help but giggle. “Look, I’ll grab us both a can of Sprite and you’ll love it!” Sprite was easily the best soft drink. If your sources were correct, Sprite was the fizziest drink of all the fizzy drinks. After oozing off the couch, you stalk to the fridge. You snicker to yourself as you shake one of the cans.
One might think you would give the previously-shaken can to your innocent friend here, but no. You are above such tomfoolery. That is a trick for plucky tots and fidgety boppers, titles you have long since surpassed.
Instead you plop yourself down on the couch, taking the rigged can for yourself and handing him the other. “Here, this one tastes sorta citrus-y. You gotta shake it first though, otherwise the sugar won’t mix.” You tell him this with the straightest face you can manage, hoping it sounds legit.
He buys it.
“You mouthbubbling dunderfuck, you set me up didn’t you!” You open your mouth to protest but he continues. “I should have seen this coming a kilometre away! And stuff a sock down your ignorance shaft before you say another word about that because the metric system is just overall better.”
You give him the most pitying look you can muster without cracking up. “Okay Karkat. Y’know, you probably just had a faulty can! I’m sure it was a fluke. Here, take my can instead.” You hand him your unopened one and sure enough, it blows its load all over him too. If he wasn’t pissed before, he sure is now.
“John Egbert, you are the grime that sits unattended on god's soiled baby blanket. Your worthless brain is like a slimy ball of gum collected from thousands of delinquent wigglers. I cannot even begin to comprehend how someone so incredibly immature has survived on this planet for so long, the only plausible explanation being that the rest of your species is just as grubticklingly slow as you are! Fuck this, fuck you and fuck your carbonated elixirs! I am so done with-”
He stops mid-rant. You cease your gut-busting laughter because this means he has an idea. You've come to learn that a quiet Karkat is a scary Karkat.
"Actually,” he begins, speaking through gritted teeth, “I forgive you. Why don’t we just… hug it out.” He springs from the La-Z-Boy, the footrest snapping down underneath him. He’s like a panther - dark, lurking and all claws. You are not quick enough to scramble away before his soda-covered tee is being torn off and stuffed in your face. “You like the taste of this shit so much, you can have it.” You flail, unable to push him off. Karkat may be short, but he’s certainly not light. Trolls have a lot of muscle; they’re all compact and sturdy. He sits on your legs, crossing his arms and scowling once he’s satisfied you have a substantial mouthful of soggy shirt.
“Bluhhhh,” you exclaim as you spit out the fabric. There’s a beat of silence as you look at each other. “…You’re cute when you pout like that.”
This gets you a flick on the ear. “Ow! Okay, okay. I’m sorry I tricked you.” You’re not really sorry. He seems to know this. “Uhh, will you pass me one of the cans though? I kinda still want the drink…”
“John. Seriously? Really? All this and you expect me to- okay fine! Here.” He grabs the half-empty can from the ground and…pours it all over your head. You squeeze your eyes shut as it sticks to your hair and drips down your face. Gross. He leans down and licks your cheek. “Hm.”
You wipe at your face and try to push him off. “Augh, ew Karkat what the hell!”
“Not bad,” he says. Your efforts are wasted, as he just re-positions himself so he’s lying on top of you. “In fact, I like this ‘Sprite.’ Those were the last cans though, weren’t they?” You nod warily. “Shame. Guess I’ll just have to make do.” He licks your face again and you make a choking sound. Ew! You don’t know how to make him stop so you just do what you usually do in a tough situation.
You kiss him.
Karkat does not seem to mind this alternative at all. He runs his fingers through your sticky hair, which you’re totally gonna have to wash as soon as possible but that can wait. Actually, you could probably take a shower together… You decide to pose this question afterwards. He licks your lips and you gasp a little, bringing him closer if that were even possible right now. Your mouths fall into a rhythm and Karkat makes little chirping noises when he tastes the soda. You hum, lightly clawing at his back with your blunt fingernails.
After a time, he releases you and nuzzles your face. You smile. The two of you sit up in unison and gaze at the mess you’ve made. There’s an unspoken agreement that you’ll put off cleaning it until after you've had a wash yourselves. Plus, you’re probably gonna have to get the steam cleaner out and everything, and that’s a can of worms you don’t feel like opening right now.
“We still need to go to the store.”