Work Text:
He never spent much time thinking about what his first kiss would be like. Maybe that was weird for a healthy sixteen year-old of any species, but John Egbert really had other things to be worrying about. The end of not only the known universe, but all the unknown universes they were creating, for one thing. How not to die of absolute boredom when surrounded by various amphibians and reptiles while entertaining your sister-turned furry wet dream was another. Life really wasn’t easy and full of very atypical teenage problems.
He should have seen it leading up to this, but he hadn’t. He had just been so excited to finally meet everyone and give some purpose to the copious amounts of time he found on his hands. Any normal boy would have figured it out, when she led him away from the group.
John had spent quite a bit of his own free time trying to imagine what they all looked like. Having that brief view of Karkat through the dimensional portal that Jade had become for an instant gave him an idea to go off of. Karkat really hadn’t changed much; still rather short and cranky. Rose and Dave had grown up well, too, and John had yielded to the fact that Dave did, in fact, half three fourths of an inch on him in the height department. What a douchebag.
He could never make his mind on what she would look like, though. Some mix between a pirate version of Morticia and Liv Tyler. (The latter was a bit of his own imagination taking a stretch simply because it could, and he really wouldn’t mind it much, either.) And there was even larger expanses of time when he didn’t think about her, but when her shoulder bumped his and a pair of bright yellow eyes stared up at him, it was hard to believe that he ever thought about anything else.
She was a bit shorter than he was, though her horns exceeded the advantage he had. Her skin was a light shade of grey, cheekbones highlighted with a blue tinge as she smirked and laughed quietly to herself at his openly curious expression. He blinked, feeling his hand guided to the noticeable curve in her hip. There was something decidedly nice about that feeling, but he couldn’t place it.
How had she suddenly gotten so close? Her long hair brushed his forearm, tickling. He jerked back a little, but she advanced. He had all the signs, but didn’t read them. He just stared dumbly as blue painted lips found his own.
Movie kisses were always accompanied by some sort of amazing soundtrack and catharsis of love; a nice “where have you been all my life?” sentiment. There were supposed to be fireworks and passion. What they had was the awkward connection of inexperienced lips, one pair practically numb from surprise.
And yet, as she pulled back, mumbling something in a language he couldn’t understand, all John Egbert could think of was why he had never considered kissing her before.
So he did.
And in retrospect, Vriska Serket’s lips were a nicer than he ever imagined Liv Tyler’s to be.