Work Text:
"Korvoooo."
"Korvo?"
"Korvy!"
"Babe?"
"KORVO!" A hard tug pulled him out of the task at hand, exposing his sensitive eyes to the bright lights of the sun shining through the ship's window. He blinked repeatedly, whirling to meet whatever the fuck prevented him from continuing his incredibly important hand. Terry, of course.
Korvo groaned, dipping his head back into one of the many engine panels of the ship. There was a small crawlspace for accessing the main components of the devise, one which he'd been observing and figuring out how to get into it. They truly did not take size into account when designing these, the slightest brush of the wires on the sides would result in catastrophe, yet he couldn't get in without disturbing the small mechanisms. "What, Terry?! You could have made the ship blow up!" He stammered angrily. That was an annoying habit he seemed to have developed over the past 5 years. It did nothing but add to his seething rage every time.
"Chillax babe, you always say that." "It's always true!" "Whatever, whatever. I was looking in your closet for a sweater but I couldn't find one, or any human clothes except your Ebenezer Scrooge jammies. Do you have one?" Korvo pulled back again and turned his attention to Terry. "What? I don't have any. Human clothing is ridiculous, and I only have Shlorpian robes. Why do you need one? Don't you have hundreds of idiotic t-shirts?"
Terry groaned, sinking to his knees in a dramatic display. "Korvo, it's December 3rd! The day where you give the person you love a sweater because of that Conan Gray song!" "The one you play when you cry?" "YES! I even had one picked out for you..!" Terry shakily reveals a creme sweater that read "WITH A BODY LIKE THIS, WHO NEEDS HAIR?" across the chest in black comic sans, his eyes swelling with emotion. "I got you the coolest sweater I own, and you don't have one for me!" The taller Shlorpian shot up, running away ridiculously fast with his ridiculous long legs crying ridiculously loud.
Korvo rolled his round eyes. Why was Terry so dramatic and always buying into these stupid human tradition? He knew Korvo loved him, what was the point? Though, his cheeks were painted cobalt blue at the fact Terry was going to give him one, regardless of how he'd never wear it or if it was a stupid print. It was getting on in the day, around 3PM... Maybe he would give in to one human tradition, if it meant so much to Terry. Just the one.
---
The clock embedded into the car read 5pm. Had he really spent as long as 3 hours, browsing stores for an item he deemed good enough? Yes, but despite that, he wasn't too mad about it. The darkness outside bothered him more, a bitter reminder of the seasonal change that had come yet again, and a reminder of this shitty planet's contact to Shlorp. Street lights illuminated his way while he parked, hopping out with a brown paper bag containing 2 black, tacky sweaters. Surely this would satisfy Terry, not only was it his ever so precious sweater but it was also, eugh, a matching one. Korvo would undoubtedly never ever wear his one, but Terry had been begging for them to match clothes for God knows how long, and he'd be happy to be rid of that nagging. Maybe he wanted to see Terry happy though, especially with his prior outburst, but not like he'd admit it.
Korvo locked the front door behind him and made his way to the kitchen. He set the articles down on the table and briefly wrote on them with a white sharpie to match the white print. His writing was scratchy and thin from misuse, and it was almost embarrassing to see. But not enough for him to get the Revert-A-Ray from wherever the fuck it was. Satisfied, he binned the bag and grabbed the items of clothing, heading up to their shared room.
When he got up there, Terry was staring pointedly at the TV as an animated show starring an old man and a teenage boy played. How Terry managed to incorporate his feeling into literally EVERYTHING he did was something Korvo had come to mimic, his nervousness shining through his treading towards their shared bed. He cleared his throat, hiding the shirts very obviously behind his back, which seemed to be what drew Terry's attention from the TV and his bowl of unnamed cereal. The anger melted in favour of curiosity, leaning back and forth in an attempt to see what Korvo was hiding. The blue alien huffed, tossing the clothing onto the center of the bed and crossing his arms away.
"I got you.. That. And that f-for me, so we can match. Happy, sweater day." He said simply, peering over to see Terry's reaction. He'd frowned, inspecting the items and gasping out loud. "You got us MATCHING SWEATERS??? I've been asking for ages!" He said, a grin splitting his face like he was a child on Christmas day. He threw his arms around Korvo and kissed him smack on the cheek, making him flush azure. "Just b-because.. Well, I'm never wearing it." Korvo knew he was doomed when Terry pulled back and gave him those stupid puppy eyes, throwing the sweater at him. "Wear it! There's no point buying it if you won't even wear it!" He huffed. Korvo sighed and obliged, getting an excited noise from Terry who slipped it on over his T-shirt.
Korvo looked ridiculous with it slipped over his robe, but he had to admit, the material was nice and it fitted him well. The one he wore said, "IF LOST, RETURN TO TERRY." And Terry's the same with Korvo's name instead. Both names were in Korvo's shaky handwriting and would surely come off in the wash but that was okay. He could write it again. "This is the best! I mean, you kind of got it mixed up since they're not both meant to say the same thing but still! Thanks Korv!" Terry spoke gleefully, even hugging his partner again for a moment before hopping up and getting the shirt from earlier and throwing it at Korvo. "Try it on later, I need to get some pics of us for Instagram- that bitch Ashley is gonna be so jealous! I met her at that PTA meeting ages ago and we..." Terry snuggled up to Korvo, the show and his cereal forgotten as he rambled to Korvo about his undying hatred for this random human. Korvo hummed contentedly, thinking not even of ship repair in this moment of domestic bliss. He stood by his opinion that this celebration was dumb, but maybe he'd indulge in it again next year.