Sollux/Eridan (Pitch): Ya'aburnee (Arabic), The Hope Of Dying Before A Loved One Does, So You Never Have To Experience The Pain Of Suffering Their Loss
Warning for discussion of future death in this story
"I'm going to die first, you know." You feel the sopor ripple as he jumps.
He rolls over and glares at you. "Why would you go an say that, Sol?"
You shrug. "It's true, you know."
"Yeah, okay, it's true, whatever." Whatewer. "I'm royalty an you're practically bottom of the hemospectrum."
"Wow, and fuck you too."
"My point is, why would you go an bring it up?"
You roll over, turn away from him, and shrug again. "Just thinking is all."
"Jutht thinkin ith all," he replies in a mocking singsong. "What, you're tryin to act all pitiful? Are you flippin on me?"
"What? No. I can't even imagine what it would take to get me flushed for you, and what have you done lately that is anything less than awful?"
"Yeah, well that's the way to build a strong kismesissitude, then. Ooooh, ED, look how fuckin fragile I am! I'm gonna die soon, isn't that hot?"
You turn back around and kick him in the shins. "Asshole."
"Athhole."
"I'm saying that you're the sucker who gets stuck with a dead kismesis. I'm fine with my lifespan, but are you?"
That makes him freeze for a moment before he makes a reply. "Okay, so maybe it'll be a bit tricky to find anyone else as horrible as you, but just look at me. I'm a total fuckin catch."
"Yeah? How long is it going to take this hypothetical future partner, the one you're being way too optimistic about, to hate you the way I do? They're not even going to realize that you shed teeth in the sopor, which, by the way, is still completely disgusting. And how long did it take me to figure out how much money you waste on beauty products?"
"Shut up, that's a totally natural biological process. And some of us care about our appearance, not seeing how many perigees we can go without getting in an ablution trap."
"I'm just saying that I'll be dead and done with all that shit, and you're the one who's going to be left alone and un-hated."
He shifts closer in the sopor and because you're a nicer person than he is, you don't even give him shit for the arm he puts over your waist. There's comfortable silence for a few minutes where you just listen to him breathe, and then he opens his mouth again.
"I might die first, you know."
You snort. "Yeah, that royalty sure gets put in sooo much danger. Not like us shitbloods. You're the ones with the really hazardous work."
He flicks you in the forehead, then catches your hands before you can return the favor (you zap him with psionics anyways). "Shut up, Sol. I'm gonna be a military commander, you know. I'll be right up there on the front lines, and you'll probably just be a techie grunt."
"Ha, you think they'll actually give you a command position before I die of pure old age? Maybe sometime within my lifespan they'll let you talk to the actual fucking commanders."
"No, it means I'll have to be out there provin my valor and shit as soon as we're molted. I'll be takin all the most hazardous jobs and puttin myself out there. Watch, you're gonna be the one left without a kismesis, and you'll never find a second person who'd put up with you the way I do."
"Yeah right, have you seen the way they treat the bottom of the hemospectrum? I'll be lucky I even get a chance to do anything technical. They waste lowblood soldiers by the thousands out there. You probably won't have even gotten a uniform by the time I'm dead."
He kisses you then, hard and vicious, and when he tries to break it off, you grab him by a horn and hold him there until he's clawing at your back and pressing close to you all over. You're all twisted together when you lay back down in the sopor, with his face buried in your shoulder and your chin resting on top of his head. You snipe at each other on and off, but there's no venom in it, and at some point, the two of you drift off to sleep.