Karlnapity One-Shots

Red Herring

Quackity tries to "work" with Sapnap and Karl to improve their leadership in Las Nevadas, but with the two being the most flirty husbands, in breathtaking formal attire at that, he accomplishes as much as you'd imagine.
OR Karlnapity as Las Nevadas' mafia leaders, ruthlessly flirting in Quackity's office (yes I ignore canon)
CW: Cursing

"You're late." He peers up from the desk, head resting on his back-facing palms and planted elbows, teeth showing slightly, moving the cigarette in anticipation.

"Fuck off." Sapnap shuts the door behind him and flashes his red suit, which Quackity immediately decides he won't compliment.

"Ten-thirty, Sap. We penned it in together."

"It's," he glances at the clock, high on the wall, "ten-thirty two, Quackity."

"Two minutes of my time-"

"-we could have been making out?" Sapnap walks over to the open chair beside him, hesitating to sit down.

Quackity breathes out a weak, remarking laugh through his nose. Of course Sapnap knows he'll try to kick it away the moment he moves down. "Yeah, actually. Would have been amazing."

Sapnap shoves his dapper, black shoe part way under the desk to trap Quackity's legs before sitting down comfortably. "Uh huh," he notes incredulously.

Quackity finally sees the cambion's face under his newly renovated lights, rays spotlighting and scattering over his features perfectly; it's a lottery-winning shot. Again, though, he's not going to flatter him with the fact. Instead, he moves his chair back at a slight angle, head now only in one hand.

He hates having to teach his husband how to run a country through its gambling statistics, but it's the least he can do to be kind. "You do realize that I could die and you'd need to take over."

Sapnap sighs. "Don't give me that."

"Well, then, don't give me your cute- shit," he stumbles but moves on quickly, "don't give me your stupid, smug face."

Sapnap chuckles, looking away before looking at the blunt in his mouth. He disregards the retort. "Hey, you're only speeding up the death process."

Quackity sighs, tonguing lazily at the cigarette. "Sorry."

Sapnap raises a brow, and great XD, he'd bet everything on that gorgeous look.

"I really am, it's just a mindless habit when I'm with Wilbur."

"Well then, stop. I don't wanna kiss your gross, smoky breath. And," Sapnap adds with a frown, "am I not hot enough for you, babe?"

"What?"

Sapnap scoots closer, eyeing his lips with an intense poker face.

Suddenly, footsteps approach, and a black and purple-suited figure passes the office room's partial glass wall. It's fleeting, but with the small distraction holding Quackity's gaze, Sapnap lurches forward and grabs the cylinder out from his lips using his own, extinguishing it easily with a soft fizzle in his heat-tolerant mouth. He quickly spits it away with an exaggerated gag.

"You're disgusting." Quackity sighs, turning himself completely toward the desk, seeing that facing his lover is doing no progress in their scheduled work.

Sapnap steals a kiss on his cheek anyway. "Answer my question."

He side-eyes the bearded man quickly. "It's a shame, you know. You'd be a really fun lighter."

"Shame," Sapnap repeats, reminding him that it's all a shame. It's pathetic. Over the months, Quackity has become more sensitive to sensibility in his entire life, thanks to his husbands always being by his side. It's a blessed curse to be so focused on work and yet lost in their eyes, so he constantly tells himself: Part love, part business. Keep the balance.