Colatum's Eddsworld Smut Drabbles

Pink Popping Pearls (InCube Ovi Oneshot)

Dash didn't respond, his eyes squinted shut as he rubbed his throat with a careful hand. It almost concerned Harvey that his friend wasn't joking after that, the pain was definitely too much for their usual banter. The doctor opted to peel the wrapper from the cough drop, holding it to Dash's barely parted lips. He accepted it without question, a gurgling hum of thanks rising from his throat.

"Sorry the medicine isn't doing more, I guess it's going to take more than a few expectorants to break this slime up..."

"Ch-...Can't you flush it out?"

"Wish I could," Harvey chuckled, crossing his arms. "But I'd rather not drown you on land, y'know?"

"I dunno," Dash croaked, though he sounded a touch better with the lozenge to soothe. "Maybe it'd be a learnin' experience. You can put it in your résumé."

Within three days, Dash was up and about, as if he never caught pneumonia from fucking alien slime. Sadly, his pay for the assignment was docked - Harvey didn't bother with the eggs that came out of Dash's mouth until after he knew his friend was okay, and the lot of them were already dried to the flooring (physically. Harvey had to scrape them off with a knife). A bit of a disappointment, sure, but Dash didn't let it get him down. After all, there was always more work to do.

Not for Dash, however. Being between assignments, it was Harvey who was stuck continuing to work. Calling his supervisors to see the queue of applicant species, and checking Dash's files obsessively for a compatible donor from their list. Rinse and repeat until he found the perfect match, then he'd have to send for their informational packet for Dashiel. It was draining, yes, but compared to the meat and potatoes of his job? This part was heaven.

The only thing different from his routine was his appetite, oddly enough.

He wasn't a Dash level "eat-three-pizzas-and-a-dessert" kind of guy, but in an average day, he'd have a decent breakfast, light lunch, and hearty, home-cooked dinner. For the past three days, every meal was light. He was practically surviving on coffee, trying not to upset his body more than it likely already was.

It was strangely helpful, however. Now, he could blast through his lunch break without an issue, allowing him to finish the bulk of his work faster. He actually got to clock out early for the first time in months, while it was still light outside.

"Marco, please call Dash for me." Harvey asked his phone as he happily strode to his ship.

"Calling Dash." The AI quickly replied, the dial tone droning until he pulled open his ship's door.

"What's up, man?" Dash loudly asked, trying (and failing) to drown out the commotion around him. It sounded like the rager to end all ragers.

"Jesus, where are you?" Harvey laughed as he tucked his phone between his ear and shoulder. He was fiddling with the control panel, setting course for home.

"Cora's," Dash paused, a crescendo of cheers flooding the receiver. Dash mumbled something about slime shots. "How 'bout yourself?"

"Not to brag, but I got out early."

Dash didn't respond immediately, the music taking over for a moment. "Congrats! Wanna come crash the party?"

Harvey eyed the controls awkwardly, especially with how close he was to home now. Cora's was the complete opposite direction, and Harvey wasn't exactly in a party mood - he wanted to catch up on housework, as ancient as that made him sound.

"No, Dashie, not tonight. Sorry!"

"Damn," He huffed, still clearly giddy. "Hey-...Hey, tell ya what. I'm having one, my place, Saturday. You're invited, 'kay? Gotta go."