Chapter Text
“Do you have eyes, Lightbulb? Because if you do, they’re at the back of your head!” Paintbrush gripped the shared armrest in anticipation as their car neared another turn.
A grin. “I wish I had eyes on the back of my head! Aliens are dope and I wanna go to space again,” The blonde ignored Paintbrush’s obvious belittlement while she barely prevented a swerve off the road. Paintbrush swallowed their fear of ending the day with their car upside down (and the incoming gag), and mustered up the most disapproving tone they could in time with Lightbulb’s comment. A scowl was unneeded here.
“So you can what; sense if someone has sweets behind your back?” Their stilted voice was nothing more than a bark with no bite, except the bark was a pomeranian's squeak of derision.
“True, true. But I could also see Baxter if he’s snippin’ Trophy again! Respectfully, of course. Dude deserves it. Oh, and Baxter sometimes snips Soap if she moves ‘em! And Testy. And-“
“I think we both get it,” The list would’ve gone on for hours on end if Paintbrush didn’t cut her off. Baxter snapped, literally, at anyone besides his caretaker and Paintbrush themself, though if Lightbulb had brought the crab along, thankfully she didn’t with a whopping amount of convincing from the painter, he probably would’ve gotten stressed out of his mind and snapped them both. Ensue the predicted car crash.
Then again, the car was surprisingly quiet, save for their constant banter and the occasional sharp squeal of a turning wheel. So maybe the crustacean wouldn’t be as frightened as they might think.
Then Lightbulb had to take a U-turn, and all thoughts of peace were thrown out the window.
“Wooo! Almost went off the rails with that spin!” Lightbulb briefly took her hands off the wheel to congratulate herself on an action that most would candidly see as a scare and a half. Her hearing perked up at a faint mumble of clear annoyance from the seat next to her, and Lightbulb reached over to pat Paintbrush on, presumably, their shoulder. She probably missed her target and patted the seat top, considering she had her eyes on the road for the first time during that drive.
“T-this isn’t Capio Kart, for god’s sake..” Paintbrush ran a shaky hand through their scalp of bristles, cringing at their even shakier voice. Their tongue tasted like bile and that alone made them nauseous beyond belief.
Lightbulb chuckled a tad. Paintbrush’s connection between her driving and a game that had you twist in ways that could get you put in jail was pretty hilarious. She craned her neck to the left so she could still pay attention to the cars flying by, and her eyes widened by a couple fractions.
“Woah, Painty! You’re almost as pale as Marsh on a good day!” In reality, Lightbulb was worried about the sudden color change in Paintbrush’s face, even with her joking mask. Were they sick? Did they eat something bad? A million possibilities, even the impossible, went through the glass bulb’s head as they waited for a response, probably a frustrated reply at the least. It would suffice.
“Pull over.”
Well, that wasn’t expected. Stupidly enough to her, because Lightbulb doesn’t use her lil’ brain when it’s best, that was the answer that made the most sense.
“Eh-? Painty, I know ya don’t hate my drivin’ that mu-“
“I’m gonna throw up..pull over..” Paintbrush’s posture had become slumped in their seat, almost folding in on themselves in the process. The chocolate coloration of their complexion was drained like milk in a cup. Lightbulb saw their throat bob with repeated swallows, and how fidgety they were with their choppy hair. Paintbrush took pride in their hair, so for them to toy with it, almost ripping strands of it out entirely, was a foreign sight due to lack of nervous strain. Ever since Paintbrush started mothering over Lightbulb, always leaning over her shoulder and scolding, her mishaps and whatnot went down significantly. That way, Paintbrush had no way to go mentally insane over her antics. But even before their stress was never like this.
This wasn’t an excuse. This wasn’t a ploy.
“‘Kay..‘kay, t-there’s an empty side of the road a few road turns ‘way. Can ya make it ‘til then, o-or..” She’s repeating words too much. Get a hold of yourself, Lightbulb! Grip the wheel tighter and go!
Lightbulb heard a soft hiccup and knew they weren’t gonna make it. 5 minutes was too long of a span with turns and such.
“Is there a baggy somew-?”
“Left..l-left drawer..” They both heard a splash at the back of Paintbrush’s throat and Lightbulb scrambled for the bag with the grace of a fumbling seagull, throwing open the front drawer after leaning over the groaning form of the paint tool. She handed the bag to Paintbrush, (via shoving it in their trembling hands), and swerved to the side to find a place to park. Somewhere with grass. There. That spot. That’s perfect. Paintbrush would love the privacy of that spot.
“D-drive slower or I-I’ll miss the bag.”
“You’re probably gonna chuck your cookies in the car regardless, Paintster..” Lightbulb decided to go with the ‘blatant cold truth’ approach with this new situation on the rise. Literally. She’d clean the car if it came to that conclusion. And by cleaning, she meant taking it to a car wash. It wasn’t her vehicle, anyways.
“Ok, found a great spot! I’ll just park you near the grass, and- and- you can, y’know..” Lightbulb drummed her fingers against the wheel as she sloppily parked the car to be flush with the curb. She didn’t know how to tell Paintbrush that they could puke without explaining it in a way that would turn their face even greener than before.
A couple seconds of silence later and Lightbulb was contemplating on getting out and pulling Painty out themselves. But apparently..
She wasn’t peering at the blonde enough because they’d already puked.
Paintbrush was surprisingly a silent puker, but the after heaves and heavy breathing weren’t, and that wasn’t the only indication of upchucking. The paper bag appeared heavier in Paintbrush’s fingers after the spell. Or two. Lightbulb couldn’t tell. And she definitely wasn’t going to glance into the full bag to tell. Eh, maybe she would. She’d heard from Tissues that fluids needed to be retained after vomiting. They probably had some water in the car, right?
Lightbulb reached into the open compartment of the car once more and pulled out a wad of paper towels. Taking the courtesy of wiping the trails of saliva and cold sweat off their face was no trouble. Paintbrush didn’t even complain. Worrying. Lightbulb discarded the soiled towels in the bag and carded a hand through the painter’s uneven locks.
“..remind me never to come with you at the wheel.” Paintbrush panted and wiped their mouth themselves out of spite.
“Point taken. I’ll carry a baggy with us whenever we take a drive.” Lightbulb gave Paintbrush one of her signature sideways smirks, a small section of her tongue sticking out from the corner. Paintbrush already felt a little bit better, and a shade of color blushed up on their pale cheeks.
“This is why I checked where the bags were beforehand.”
And Paintbrush gave Lightbulb a peck on the nose with their foul breath, and Lightbulb faked a gag.
Yeah, it didn’t take much for them to make up.
.