A Rogue What?!

by athirstygoil

Summary:

The forests of Underfell are expansive. When the Fell brothers investigate in one of the worst blizzards of the Underground, they find something unexpected.

Notes:

I noticed though there's plenty of dynamics for Underfell's characters, there isn't much on the Underground itself. My goal with this series is to explore the world of Underfell. Also work on my interpretation of the Fell bros. c:

 

Tags will be updated with each new part! Please be sure you read them just in case!

Chapter 1: What Awaits in the Storm

Notes:

1/29/18: Minor factual edit. Will be revisited in a later chapter.

EDIT: Thank you all so much for the feedback and kudos! :D

9/13 EDIT: Added more paragraph spaces for easier reading!

 

Smut will appear on the next chapter!

“hey uh...boss?” Neatly affixing his scarf over his armor, the tall skeleton turned smoothly to his underling and raised a brow ridge.

“YES? WHAT IS IT?” The smaller skeleton grinned nervously.

“snow’s getting heavier. don’t ya think we can do this some other time?” Brow ridge now furrowed, his superior straightened and narrowed his eyes.

“A BIT OF SNOW SHOULDN’T PREVENT US FROM PATROLLING, SANS. A GUARD DOESN’T LET LITTLE THINGS LIKE THAT GET IN THE WAY OF HIS DUTY.”

"it snowed like another three inches pap! it hasn’t even been an hour!” Sans's voice rose in disbelief. “with how much it’s been pelting don’t you think it’d be a lot more difficult to track anything?!” Papyrus frowned, but then it rose to a smirk.

“AH BUT YOU FORGET BROTHER,” he stated, “A HUMAN COULD BE USING THE WEATHER TO THEIR ADVANTAGE.” He drew his gloved hand to his face dramatically. “THEY COULD BE MARCHING THROUGH SNOWDIN THIS VERY INSTANT!”

“are you fucking--” Sans covered his face with his metacarpals, his voice rising as his sentence progressed. “seriously?! you don’t know that! for all we know, a human could be sitting it out behind that huge door when they saw how shitty. it was. outside!”

Exasperated, he flung his fists around defiantly. “i’m not goin out there, bro and you can’t make me!” His brother’s smirk lowered into a frown again. His voice followed suit, as his words became more punctuated.

"TRY TO OPPOSE ME, ONE MORE TIME.” uh oh. Sweat immediately beaded on the smaller skeleton’s skull.

“i uh--just don’t wanna lose you in the storm boss,” he stammered, “honest!”

“THEN WEAR THE COLLAR,” his brother suggested icily, as if it were plainly obvious.

“wha--and how’s that gonna help?” A slap to the kitchen counter interrupted him. Boss glowered, red eyes flaring.

“SANS.” The smaller skeleton stiffened.

“y-yeah boss?” Phalanges pinching his nose ridge, his brother’s voice came out a growl.

“YOU NEED TO MAKE UP FOR THOSE TIMES I’VE CAUGHT YOU SLEEPING AT YOUR STATION. HOW CAN ANY MONSTER LEARN TO RESPECT THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE PAPYRUS IF THEY DO NOT RESPECT HIS BROTHER?” Papyrus sighed, his tone now lax. The emphasis on each word was still present however. “You are an extension of me, Sans. You represent me when I am not there. And the collar is a reminder of that. I can’t pick up your slack all the time,” a gloved phalange gently scratched at Sans’s temple as Boss smirked. “Besides, what other monster can I trust if not you?”

Blinking dumbly, the smaller skeleton blushed brightly as soon as he realized the compliment. Papyrus chuckled when he covered his face with his hoodie. Walking toward the door, the tall skeleton motioned for him to follow. Sans reluctantly obeyed, slightly lifting his hood off his sockets. “Come now, it can’t be that bad Sans.” Snow greeted him in gusts as Papyrus opened the door. His brow ridge furrowed with a twitch as he frowned. “HM.”

 

Surveying the scene, Papyrus walked confidently outside. His boots sunk into the freshly fallen snow with a pamf. Ankle-deep, only the height of his footwear protected him from the very unpleasant moisture. His frown deepened, and along with a faint dusting of rouge. “YOU BEST WEAR YOUR REAL SHOES SANS,” he said at last. “SLIPPERS WOULD DO NO GOOD HERE.”

Sans exhaled loudly. There really was no way around it. Once Pap got it in his head, it was definitely happening. No point fighting the inevitable. As his brother returned indoors, he defeatedly moved to find the collar Boss gave him.

 

Unhurriedly shuffling to the living room, he eyed the couch. Using his phone as a light, he proceeded to search under it. Hm. He figured it as much.

Furrowing a brow ridge as he closed the flashlight app, he moved to the television. Over and around it he looked but again, no collar. From across the room, he gave their pet rock a glare of suspicion, but it wasn’t near it in the least.

Huffing, Sans walked to the kitchen, his stride a little longer. Steps slightly quicker. Opening all the drawers and cabinets with his magic, he brought all their contents forth.

Nothing but their various cutlery and silverware. Nothing but their motley collection of plates and dishes. He didn’t know what he expected.

A flare of magic glowered with his frustrated growl, but he made sure all their things were put in their place. As if on cue, his brother called out from the next room.

“IS EVERYTHING ALRIGHT SANS?”

Sighing heavily, Sans closed all the drawers and cabinets. If but a little loudly.

"just peachy. everything’s just peachy,” he muttered to himself. “yeah,” he answered.

There was a brief pause and a door closing before Papyrus called out again.

“DO YOU NEED ASSISTANCE, BROTHER?”

“nah,” he said more to himself, then “nah bro I got this,” he replied loudly as he retrieved a bottle of mustard from the fridge.

Well, at least he definitely knew it wasn’t there. Slurping mindlessly, he mentally ran through the places he hadn’t looked yet.

He had checked the lower levels save for the closet (which Papyrus was currently using) so that only left their bedrooms and the bathroom. It wouldn’t be impossible for him to have left it in his bro’s room. After all, the two sometimes borrowed each other late at night. But if he had, Pap would have told him, or at the very least, handed it to him by a phalange the next time he saw him. Sighing, Sans resumed his search, and passed by just as Papyrus was removing his battle body in favor of a turtleneck sweater and slim pants.

(Damnit he really didn’t need that right now.)

Sans tried to hide the slight dusting of red on his cheekbones as he reached the stairs. Staring down at the carpet in appreciation of those bones, he didn’t realize he hit the bottom of the bottle once he started his ascent. Annoyed, Sans chewed at the tip before shortcutting the bottle to the nearest trashcan. A groan escaped his teeth.

Man, why did his brother get him this way. It just wasn’t fair sometimes. Without even trying Papyrus could get him so worked up. Not like he didn’t like it--oh no. Sometimes it was something Sans craved. If he had a lip he’d surely bite it. Turning his attention to the top of the stairs, the smaller skeleton’s eyelights widened when he saw a stripe of red. A large, hopeful grin creased his face as he skipped steps to reach it.

Breathing a sigh of relief, the skeleton unhooked the collar from the upright and ran his distal phalanges on the soft material. For something so simple, Boss really went all out. Of all the junk that flowed into the Underground, he was able to find something so comfortable and so him. Sans smiled fondly. He’ll be sure to find it a permanent home one day when not in use. Staring at the small rounded spikes that matched his tooth, Sans lifted it to his neck and buckled the collar in place. The supple leather rested against his clavicle. He fingered the tag idly as he peered down the stairs to see what his bro was up to.

Boss was getting his heavy jacket out of the closet. No way was The Great and Terrible Papyrus going to be unprepared for a long and cold excursion. He even brought out the bodysuit to cover his exposed features. Not like Sans minded seeing his brother’s bones, but it was disappointing he wouldn’t be admiring a eyeful of iliac crests once in little while. Ah well.

“I WILL NOT HAVE YOU FREEZING OUT THERE SANS,” Papyrus said as he tossed him a sweater like his own before slamming his room door shut to change. Sans shrugged off his jacket as he slowly added the other layer over his shirt. Popping the collar out so it was visible, Sans put on his jacket and waited patiently in the hallway.

The material was soft against his bones. Had maybe a couple small holes, and was slightly too long for him, (he had to tuck in the extra fabric to keep it all in check) but it was warm.

Boss was so cool, thinking about him like that. Leaning against the wall, listening to the muffled noises from his brother’s room, Sans’s thoughts wandered.

How Boss was probably dipping those hardened but beautiful tarsals through the translucent fabric. Or how his soft sweater cradled his rib cage. Those beautiful bones with slight fractures and chips. Those tiny cracks that decorated his little brother’s being.

Sans felt a shiver up his spine. He couldn’t get enough of them. And he couldn’t wait for the next time he could get a feel for them.

How he’d have his cute little brother. His helpless, precious brother...all to himself.

Suddenly realizing his tongue had coalesced, Sans wiped the drool from his mandible with his jacket sleeve. focus goddamnit. ugh.

Slapping his sockets with his metacarpals, Sans then remembered he was supposed to wear his real shoes outside today. He wondered where he put his sneakers last. It had been a while since he really needed them. He’d been getting around fine with just socks and fuzzy slippers. But that was during light snowfall. With the way the weather was coming down, it’d only take a couple minutes til they’d be soaked. Plus they’d take forever to dry. Sans found the notion unappealing. Padding to his room, the small skeleton fished around his piles of stuff until he maneuvered his footwear from them. Laces disheveled, but otherwise in like-new condition, Sans grinned.

“would ya look at that. they survived.” Kicking his slippers near the mattress, the small skeleton slipped on the sneakers with care. They fit well to his surprise. Boss had gifted them to him a couple years back. Considering their state it was a miracle they even fit. “guess i didn’t grow too much since then.” he shrugged as he stood to get a better feel of them.

The last time he wore them was to try them on the first time, much due to Boss’s insistence. He had taken them immediately off afterward, so it was no wonder they were still stiff. So Sans walked around his room, rocked onto the balls of his heels, and stood on his toes. The little exercises made certain they were at the very least comfortable for him, and not digging into his metatarsals or his calcanei. (New shoes usually chafed around the ankles even with socks. He wasn’t taking any chances.)

Satisfied, Sans walked into the hall, leaving the door slightly ajar. Papyrus was waiting.

“TIE YOUR SHOELACES SANS,” he prompted, as he zipped the small skeleton’s jacket shut. Even the small detail, Paps would notice. As if he knew he’d forget. Sans chuckled lightly while the two climbed down the stairs.

“aw c’mon bro,” he half-joked, “aren’t me wearing the damn shoes good enough for ya?”

“FINE,” the taller skeleton answered, as they both stepped out into the cold. “BUT YOU DON’T GET TO COMPLAIN WHEN YOU TRIP AND FALL ON YOUR SORRY ASS.”

----

Being outside confirmed Sans’s suspicions. It was terrible. His mood fell almost immediately. It was a wonder their door wasn’t blocked. With a quick prompting from his brother, they carefully slid down the small slope that was once their porch stairs. With how slippery it was, as soon as they landed, Sans tied his laces with blue magic.

“stupid motherfucking snow,” he mumbled, kicking at it. Only to have his foot misstep and sink cleanly into a deceptively deep pile. Sans would have laughed if he wasn’t so embarrassed. “uh boss?!” Struggling to keep his balance, the shorter skeleton unfortunately lost his footing and landed ungracefully into the pile. Almost immediately afterward, felt himself sinking. In a slight panic now, Sans tried again with a louder voice. “b-boss?!” Flailing around wouldn’t help in the slightest, but he still tried to at least roll out of it.

Nope. He just sank further in. Not happening then.

If Sans knew how deep this snow was by stars he’d probably be less afraid but oh shit was this snow gonna eat him alive FUCK.

Where the fuck was Boss? Wasn’t he just next to him? He wouldn’t let him sink would he FUCK THAT’S COLD. “aw c’mon if this is some new training tactic i swear to the void i will wreck your ass!” Finally, (fucking finally) Sans felt blue magic lift him from the snow just as it completely caved in, revealing a very large hole.

He put on his best stern face only to see Papyrus’s failed attempt at stifling his laughter.

“YOU--” a snort escaped before he could stop it, “YOU FELL INTO MY TRAP.” Sans’s face deadpanned as Pap belted out loudly. The only pauses he took were for the occasional snort and to take a breath. “YOU’RE VERY LUCKY IT WAS STILL A WORK IN PROGRESS,” he snickered, “OTHERWISE IT’D BE SPIKES WRECKING YOUR ASS, BROTHER.”

oh. my. stars. He couldn’t believe this. The shorter skeleton took a breath. Boss’s laughter subsided into silence.

“ya got me good bro,” he smiled widely. “you really did.” His brother straightened triumphantly as his magic dissipated around Sans.

The older of the two landed on his feet. Though, he did catch himself before he slipped again.

“NYEH HEH HEH!! YOU REALLY MUST FALL FOR MORE OF MY TRAPS BROTHER, SO I CAN GLOAT ABOUT HOW GREAT THEY ARE BECOMING,” he smirked proudly.

“don’t be silly bro,” Sans answered with a wink, “i’ll fall for you any day.”

Paps’s expression became unreadable for a moment before he turned around.

“WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT FLIRTING WITH ME IN PUBLIC?” he glowered, his tone failing to hide the embarrassed air in his statement.

“not to...do it?” the shorter skeleton slowly teased. “besides, i know you like it.” Sans leaned in close, staring straight at his brother’s eyelights confidently. “no one else needs to know,” he continued, his tongue slowly coalescing until it gingerly touched Papyrus’s mandible.

His brother’s eyelights shrank significantly and Boss immediately stiffened as he jerked away from Sans’s advances. Striding a few feet away, Papyrus took a few deep breathes before calling him over.

“COME SANS, LET US BE OFF.”

“coming boss,” he replied with a chuckle. Boss was so cute when he was flustered.

Sans made sure to keep his distance, just in case Pap wasn’t ready to face him yet. He knew how he got when he was hot and bothered, but it was so fun to tease his baby bro. Trudging with a slight spring in his step after his superior, Sans kept his gaze at the ground. Maybe today wouldn’t be so bad after all.

The snow was blowing a lot harder since they left their house, and it blustered into his sockets. Squinting flakes away the best he could, Sans followed the trail of his brother’s boots as they slowly made their way to their patrol route. Snowdin being on an elevated surface made the trek down a bit more treacherous with the wind beating against them. And the creaking bridges made it even more unsafe. But it wasn’t like the Great and Terrible Papyrus didn’t prepare accordingly. Oh no, he certainly set precautionary measures for times like these. Stopping at the foot of the first bridge, his crimson magic flared as he summoned a Blaster.

“GET ON,” he commanded, the incident from earlier nearly forgotten or stowed away for a later discussion. The smaller skeleton hesitantly jumped after him.

“do we have to?” the golden-toothed skeleton whined softly, immediately shrugging closer to his superior. He received a hard glare, and decided against discussing the matter further.

As the two rode it across Sans clutched at the back of Papyrus’s jacket tightly, his phalanges and face dug into the supple leather. A small comfort in this harrowing ordeal. It felt like forever until the Blaster finally landed. When Sans opened his shaky sockets, he saw that they were way past the other guards. In fact, they were in front of Pap’s sentry station. Fearfully, the small skeleton faced his brother.

“BLIZZARDS MAKE FOR GOOD COVER FOR MORE THAN WAYWARD VAGABONDS, DON’T YOU AGREE SANS?” His gravely voice lowered with a chuckle, which Sans smiled gratefully at. “LET US CONTINUE.”

Though their route was always covered with snow, the increasingly heinous blizzard made it more difficult to pinpoint even the most familiar trails. But the two set off anyway, with Papyrus leading the way. Boss was so cool, bravely taking the front and also shielding Sans from most of the wind. The smaller skeleton found himself grinning thoughtfully. They were halfway (maybe?) through their trek when Sans nearly ran into his brother’s legs.

“what’s the holdup?” he yelled over the wind. Boss motioned for him to come forward. Brow ridge furrowing, Sans obeyed. The only tracks that should have been present were their own. Yet here, in a blizzard mind you, was a trail leading away from their route and into the forest. “what in the void?”

“MY THOUGHTS EXACTLY.” Papyrus squinted at the trees. “IF WE HURRY THE TRAIL MAY STILL BE PRESENT.”

“wha-but boss!”

The tall skeleton sped into the trees, branches cracking behind him. Sans ran as fast as he could after him. As much as the snow would allow. Sharp branches caught him and he broke through in frustration. The only thing he could see now was his brother’s red scarf. A stark contrast bright enough to catch as it blew in the wind.

Don’t face the danger head-on, he wanted to say, I don’t want you to be alone! Angrily picking up his pace, Sans trudged through the ever-deepening snow. Creeping halfway up his tibiae and fibulae, the small skeleton felt a shiver and regretted not adding the lengthening attachments to his zip-up shorts.

Since he was a good head (two to be precise) shorter than his brother, traversing through the blanketing particles was very arduous. And to top it all off, the shorter skeleton was starting to slow down. In desperate need of a boost, Sans clawed his jacket open and snatched two mustard packets from a hidden inner pocket. Ripping through them with sharp teeth, he slurped down the liquid spice. Feeling the food instantly convert into more magic, Sans picked up his pace. He didn’t bother zipping his jacket back up. Eventually, gasping and panting, the short skeleton broke into a clearing, and reached his brother. Using his femurs and patellas as support, he gave himself a moment to catch his breath. Papyrus, back hunched, was kneeling over a particular set of prints. Pondering it with tented phalanges.

“SANS,” the tall skeleton directed his attention to the ground as the shorter straightened his posture. “TELL ME WHAT YOU SEE.” Inspecting them with squinted sockets, Sans uttered his thoughts aloud.

“quadruped in nature, so that narrows it down a bit.” The tracks were deep in the snow, leaving a long tear-drop shape. “too small to be any of the other guards.” The dogs had larger, more definitive paw prints. These ones were close, but didn’t match.

“too big to be that annoying dog.” In fact, the size of the prints themselves made for at least twice that little white dog. “tracks are the wrong shape to be a bunny.” The very beginning of the prints suggested padding. Bunnies didn’t have paw pads. Scratching his skull as he inspected them further, Sans lowered his body closer to the ground. The wind was making it hard but he did see something. “claws too. what d’ya think boss?” Papyrus rose slowly, and straightened confidently.

“NOTHING THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE PAPYRUS CAN’T SOLVE.” Surveying the scene, he smirked. “I SUSPECT WE WILL ENCOUNTER THEM SOON.”

Looking around, Sans saw what he meant. There wasn’t just one set of prints. There were many; more than he expected. What in the void was going on?

Hesitantly following the trails with his eyelights, Sans froze when he heard a noise in the wind. A long shrieking howl. Boss jerked toward it too, stiff with anticipation. Eyelights glowed crimson as he readied his gloved hand to summon a weapon.

Ke-thump.

Ke-thump.

Ke-thump.

Quadruped in nature.

San’s eyelights shrank as they glowed red. Sweat beaded on his skull. The noises drew nearer.

Too small to be the other guards.

Ke-thump. Ke-thump. Ke-thump.

Too big to be that annoying dog.

A distant snarl. An enraged bark.

As their silhouettes defined, there was a beat as Sans took a moment to process what these monsters even were.

Definitely not a bunny.

His soul quaked in his ribcage.

And there were many.

Soul pounding, a sense of dread climbed up Sans like choking vines. It was the vorp of his brother’s magic that snapped him out of his descending thoughts. A glowing red bone appeared in front of him. Papyrus stood, back to him, in a protective position.

“STAY CLOSE NOW,” Boss growled. “WE HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THEY ARE CAPABLE OF.” Sans nodded stiffly as he wiped his sockets with his sleeve.

“y-yeah boss.” The noises stopped momentarily, and the two skeletons took defensive stances in anticipation.

They heard shuffling, and heavy breathing, displaced with the wind in front of them. Then, they saw a shape lunge. Papyrus immediately caught it mid-air, gripping its soul with a ding of blue magic. It growled viciously, black mane long and unkempt, sharp teeth strange on the figure, but it was evident what kind of monster this was. A Temmie.

“Disgusting,” Boss spat, as his grip on its soul tightened. The Tem yelped loudly in response. Sans didn’t have time to be confused. Snarling, and their maned heads rippling in the wind, two more canine monsters appeared. Leaping up at him, Sans barely had time to dodge. He heard a strangled yelp as the Tem his brother caught exploded into dust. “DUCK YOU IDIOT!” Sans threw himself to the side as he felt the magic surge from the ground and impale his attackers. Their feral yelps were only a beat away from their dusting. Heavy boots rushed through the snow. “GET UP YOU SACK OF SHIT, WE HAVE TO RECOUP.” Red magic glowed fiercely and it took Sans a moment to compose himself. Blinking rapidly, he hoisted himself up and awkwardly stumbled to his brother.

Were they scouts? Did they alert the rest of the group? Where was the rest of them? And what were they doing all the way in Snowdin? Sans had so many questions but now wasn’t the time to ask them. They were being hunted.

Escaping some distance away, the two skeletons stopped a moment. Running this much was a mistake. If Sans had an inkling of where they even were he would have just taken a shortcut. But it was a bit late for that. Better to know where he was for sure than getting stuck in a tree. For now, he needed to focus on surviving, and protecting Papyrus.

“think we can take’em boss?” he panted, standing back to back with his brother. Papyrus scoffed.

“ARE YOU AWAKE ENOUGH TO EVEN STAND, WHELP?” The smaller skeleton grinned.

“waddaya take me for? a sack of bones?” Boss sighed, annoyed.

“SOMETIMES SANS THAT’S ALL YOU EVER ARE.” Sans shrugged tiredly. “NOW HURRY,” he frowned, tossing the smaller skeleton a few small, circular constructs. “WE DON’T HAVE TIME TO DALLY.” Eyeing them, the shorter brother blinked before setting them a few feet away from the trees with blue magic.

“can’t argue with that.” The snow began to pick up, and the two waited, their stances ready for another assault. And it wasn’t long til they heard it again. That sudden, high-pitched shriek hung in the air as the snow hinted their numbers. How were there this many out here? Sans couldn’t stop to wonder.

They came crashing through the trees, some immediately springing the traps the Boss set.

“HOLD YOUR GROUND,” he growled, as more stormed out, circling the two. “DO YOU REMEMBER YOUR TRAINING?” Sans furrowed his brow ridge. Of course he did.

“yeah?” he answered, distractedly. His eyelights glowered intensely as he watched them close in.

“GOOD,” Papyrus grinned sharply. “ABOUT TIME WE TEST IT YEAH?”

The sharpened bone in his gloved hand rose. Bludgeoning the feral beasts nearest to him, he laughed aloud. “HOW ABOUT WE SHOW THEM WHAT HAPPENS WHEN THEY MESS WITH US?” Sans found himself chuckling despite their situation. Boss was too cool.

With renewed vigor, the small skeleton knocked some back with blue magic as soon as they came remotely close. They collided with the surrounding trees with a yelp and scurried away.

“whoops,” he shrugged. “better luck next time.” Finishing a swift blow to two more, Papyrus groaned and jerked toward him.

“YOU CAN’T JUST LET THEM LEAVE, SANS! WHAT IF THEY COME BACK FOR REVENGE?” Impaling another with his bones, the taller skeleton huffed. “I WON’T ALWAYS BE AROUND TO SAVE YOUR SORRY ASS.”

Sans dodged a couple more as they threw themselves at him. Their sharp teeth dripped with saliva and flecks of red speckled their otherwise white souls. What the--? Was that how they were able to live out here? But how did they get here in the first place?

Sans displaced the air around him as he shortcutted to the ones that got away. They immediately snarled and backed away. Their eyes red with magic and fear.

“sorry pals, but ya know the boss.” His eyelights flared crimson with a slight lining of yellow. “no survivors unless ordered.”

With a flick of his wrist sharp bones erupted from the ground and impaled them into what he hoped was a swift death.

Breathing heavily now, Sans felt the sweat roll down his skull. The glow in his eyelights disappeared as he stared at the piles of dust that scattered with the wind. O h n o .

His distal phalanges tugged at his collar.

How many had they dusted?

How many were l e f t ?

His breaths became ragged as he distantly heard more come upon him. Red, sharpened bones erupted in front of and around him as he turned, one shaky palm facing them. Their dust blew with the wind. Sans felt disgusting. He felt his LV rise. His patellas buckled under him. Stumbling, his grip on the collar tightened.

Sure they were feral, but they were monsters too.

Did that make much of a difference if it was for defense?

He winced at the hard smack of bone against bone. The ripping of flesh as protrusions caught them. The howls and cries as they all fell down o n e b y o n e.

They echoed in his skull. And they became so loud he almost couldn’t hear his thoughts.

do it for papyrus, he told himself. do it to protect yourself. do it. do it. d o i t !!

His summoned blasters beamed them until they were all engulfed in red. Their dust piled and mixed with the surrounding snow.

Sans felt sick. His phalanges curled into unsteady fists around the soft leather. Red tears trickled from his sockets. He stood his shaky ground as he blearily stared at the Temmie before him.

“DO IT SANS!” he heard his Boss faintly, but he c o u l d n ’ t m o v e . Sweat and snow left his skull chillingly cold. His eyelights were glowing pin pricks in his sockets. At his hesitation it bounded closer, shrieking a terrible, lonely cry. Teeth bared, and launching itself, the Tem was just mere inches away when a red protrusion caught it through the chest and erupted through its neck.

Slamming into Sans, the small skeleton was knocked back into the dust-mixed snow. It blew around him. Not even the fresh layer falling could make him feel clean. His eyelights narrowed in horror.

They didn’t have time to cry out in pain.

It was everywhere. Resting on his bones, sticking to his teeth. Gently landing on his clothes.

Sans spat and scrambled from it, a shivering mess. Tears were still slipping from his sockets as he hurried to wipe them. If this was a new method of training he never wanted to do it again.

If Paps ever ordered him to he’d refuse.

But would it even matter?

Heavy boots crunched toward him. The weight of blue magic enclosed around his core as Sans' soul dinged softly.

Lifting him from the ground, Sans became limp. Boss stared at him with hard eyelights. Inspecting his soul, Papyrus gave it a once-over then released it. Sans plopped ungracefully to the ground.

“what the fuck was that for?!” he yelled, betrayed that his brother dropped him like that. But then he felt it before he heard it. That disappointment laced in his words as his brother stared down at him.

“You’ll live,” the taller skeleton gruffed. Turning back, he motioned for the other to follow. “Hurry up, it’s getting dark. It’ll be a while until we find our way home.”

Staring at his brother’s shrinking silhouette, Sans got up. Brushing snow and remaining dust off his jacket, he gave the scene one last look before finally turning and jogging after Papyrus.

They’d have to report their encounter. He’d have to relive it again. But afterward he won’t need to think about it ever again.

“hey uh boss,” he sputtered, “we uh don’t have ta walk back.” Papyrus slowed his pace, but didn’t stop. Peering over his shoulder to his underling, he asked,

“AND HOW, PRAY TELL, WOULD WE BE ABLE TO RETURN HOME?” Sans grinned nervously.

“i know a shortcut?” Boss’s face scrunched in disgusted disbelief, and he returned to his previous pace toward their last encounter with the Tems. “no, wait!” Catching his brother’s gloved hand, he tugged himself closer. “i know it’s hard to believe,” he gulped, “but you hafta trust me. please.” Papyrus slowed to a reluctant stop.

“THIS BETTER BE WORTH MY TIME SANS.” The smaller skeleton’s grin widened as he took the taller skeleton’s other hand in his.

“don’t worry boss. it’ll only take a sec.”

Focusing all his energy on their living room (heh) Sans took a breath as his magic surrounded them. He could feel his brother shift uncomfortably, but he didn’t let it distract him. With a blip the cold dissipated and the warmth of their house surrounded them. The brothers floated for a bit before Sans’s magic unceremoniously dropped them on their carpeted floor. Papyrus’s face scrunched in momentary confusion before getting up and brushing residual snow off his jacket.

“THAT WAS CERTAINLY...SOMETHING,” he muttered. Sans’s collapsed form lay sprawled on the carpet, clearly exhausted.

“heh. usually it’s just me so,” even lifting up his head was a chore. “that really took a lot outta me.” Winking at his brother, Boss rolled his eyelights, unamused.

“WE WILL NEED TO REPORT THIS ENCOUNTER TO UNDYNE,” the tall skeleton affirmed, shrugging off his outerwear. Putting it on a hanger with a protective cloth cover, Papyrus hung his leather piece in the closet. Boss was so attentive, taking care of his clothes like that. Watching his brother stride to the kitchen from the floor, Sans found his eyelights flickering. Stars was he tired. Maybe Pap wouldn’t mind if he took a little nap.

--------

Papyrus scrolled down his contacts until he came upon Undyne’s. What Sans did was unexpected. Why he chose to not inform him of such an ability before was beyond him, but the tall skeleton was sure he had his reasons. No, he’d make sure his secret was safe with him. Too many others would exploit it if he allowed. He couldn’t do that to his brother.

Taking a breath, Papyrus pressed the call button. The encounter with those feral Temmies was troubling. Not to mention he had almost lost his brother. If it weren’t for that split second it took to summon that bone, Sans would have left with more than just trauma-induced scars.

The tall skeleton inhaled shakily at the memory. Stars he looked so small and frightened. And when he froze like that--and that beast clamored to him-- Papyrus quashed those fears the instant he heard a voice on the other line.

“What’s up, Nerd?”

“I HAVE A PRESSING MATTER TO REPORT, UNDYNE.”

“Is it the matter of that stick up your skeleton ass?”

“WHAT IN THE VOID UNDYNE, THIS IS IMPORTANT.”

“HAHA Allriiight.” Her cackling laughter echoed off speaker. He frowned, unamused. “We can meet up at my place after this storm’s over, ‘kay Bonehead?”

“SOUNDS GOOD. I’LL SEE YOU TOMORROW THEN.”

“Later Nerd!”

As her line clicked, Papyrus felt that growing fear engulf him again. He told Sans moments beforehand he wouldn’t be around all the time to save him.

If he hadn’t--if he hadn’t--would he even still be here? Putting his phone down on the kitchen counter, Papyrus strode back to the living room. His rapidly humming soul jumped when he saw Sans’s empty sockets. Quickly kneeling on the floor, he put a temple to his brother’s sternum. His soul’s pace steadied when he heard Sans’s soul pulsing softly.

Just sleeping.

Peacefully.

He exhaled a breath, and wiped the tears he didn’t realize welled in his sockets. Sans needed it; a well-deserved nap for their harrowing ordeal. Cradling the smaller skeleton in his arms, Papyrus brought him up the stairs and carefully removing his outer layers before laying him in bed. Surely The Great and Terrible Papyrus’s framed bed would be more comfortable for his brother than that old mattress. When he moved to release the small skeleton, he found his phalanges hooked on the fabric of his scarf. Whining softly, Sans nuzzled his skull closer to the escaping warmth.

“don’t leave, please,” he pleaded, though Papyrus wasn’t sure if he was half-awake or sleep-talking. Slowly unlatching his brother’s phalanges, he stroked his mandible gently.

“Alright Brother,” he obliged with a loud whisper. Climbing into bed with him, the tall skeleton got comfortable and the small skeleton snuggled close. Putting a protective arm around the skeleton at his side, Papyrus touched his teeth to his brother’s forehead. “I’ll protect you Sans,” he vowed. “As long as I stand, I promise. You have nothing to fear when you’re with me.” Nuzzling his nasal ridge to Sans’s glabella, the two slept in the comfort of the other’s arms.

Chapter 2: Brotherly Bonding

Summary:

It's the morning after the encounter. The Fell brothers have a long day ahead of them.

Notes:

For those who don't wish to read smut, it's sectioned off!

Sans awoke to find warm bones around him. Slow breaths tickled his skull as he stared at his wonderful brother. Nuzzling close to the tall skeleton, Sans planted a skeleton kiss on Papyrus’s clavicle. The arms around him drew Sans closer. Stiffening at the sudden display of affection, Sans dared to look at his brother’s for-once peaceful face.

 

Sighing, he stroked Boss’s brow ridge with his free hand and drew a soft line down his mandible.

 

“stars the things you do to me bro,” he muttered with false exasperation. With half-lidded sockets, Sans tilted his head slightly and grinned. “but wouldn’t you like to know?” Papyrus’ soul glowed through his undershirt, and Sans gazed at it longingly. “should i take you now bro?” he murmured more to himself, “you gonna be my lil slut this morning?” Oh he felt a tingle of magic react to that.

 

Stars he shouldn’t be doing this but damn was Pap so adorable. And so vulnerable. Sans nearly cursed when he felt his tongue magick into existence. damnit. Daring to move, Sans untangled himself slowly, in an attempt to leave. Papyrus rolled to his side in response.

 

Deciding against it, Sans hugged him from behind. His soul beat in time with Papyrus’. Slow and deliberate. It even radiated comfort. Stars, he could just fall asleep all over again. He gave himself a moment to close his sockets, but sleep eluded him. Sans sighed, clutching his brother a little tighter. Stars he didn’t wanna get out of bed. Peeking over his bro’s sleeping form, Sans looked out the window.

 

It was still snowing. The storm let up a little, but not by much. Wind blew huge flakes as big as Whimsun pellets. And they had to go to Waterfall today. Sans groaned at the thought of walking through all that snow again. He just wanted to stay home, spend the day with his bro if he could. Not like Boss would let him though. Maybe he’d let him shortcut them instead. Wouldn’t that be nice. Sans hummed in thought.

 

He wasn’t sure exactly when they were supposed to meet up with the Captain, but he definitely wasn’t going to wake Papyrus up to ask. After their encounter with those Temmies, his brother clearly needed the rest.

 

It wasn’t fair that the Royal Guard took up so much of his time and energy. If Sans knew anything about jobs, his bro needed all the sleep he could get. Speaking of jobs, Sans flipped over carefully as he fumbled for his phone. Checking for any messages, Sans breathed a sigh of relief. His shift was changed due to the inclement weather. Hopefully it’d give him an excuse to bail out of the meeting. If not, at least it’d give him time to spend with his brother. Whether it’s in the bed or out.

 

------------

 

Papyrus’s breathing changed as he rolled over. The comfortable darkness threatened to bring him to the waking world once he felt his brother shift away from him. Reaching for him unconsciously, Papyrus caught onto Sans’s shirt before feeling a tug. There was a pause before he heard the familiar bass of his voice.

“heh,” he heard Sans chuckle, “i thought you hated it when i stayed in bed for too long.” Releasing a hum of annoyance, Papyrus pulled him closer. Sans offered no resistance.

 

“I’ll make this an exception,” he muttered, as he covered Sans up with the blanket. “We don’t have to meet with Undyne until the storm has passed.” At this, he saw Sans grin through a slightly opened socket. His carpals held up his mandible as he looked up at Papyrus.

 

“oh good,” he chuckled, “i was hopin’ you’d say that.” Papyrus met his grin with a small smile.

 

“What did you have in mind?” he asked thoughtfully. Sans’ magic fluttered around them in reply, and his soul emitted a warm, touching glow that made Papyrus almost dizzy. “...Oh,” he breathed. Sans’s wide grin said it all. His gold tooth glistened in the dim light.

 

“d’ya wanna top or should i?”

 

(Smut starts here, you’ve been warned!)

 

It wasn’t even a real question, and Papyrus knew that. Smirking, he raised a brow ridge at his brother.

“I think the real question is, which one do you deserve?” Sans scoffed playfully as he sat up. Papyrus immediately grabbed him by the humerus and pulled him back down. Sans emitted a low growl as Papyrus put his full weight over him.

 

“don’t you even start,” he half-warned, his tone husky. Papyrus found himself tittering. Sans was already rattling in anticipation.

 

“Or what?” Papyrus purred as his tongue came into being. “Do you plan on fucking me first?” Sans’ sockets narrowed as he stared into his crimson eyelights with a strange intensity that made Papyrus’ soul thump against his sternum.

 

“as a matter of fact,” Sans slowly smirked, “i intend to wreck your ass.” Papyrus raised a brow ridge at the sultry tone.

 

“Are you certain?” he laughed, feigning confidence, “What if I wreck yours first?”

 

“you might,” Sans shrugged, “but when i get my hands on you--” his eyelights glowed softly, enticingly, “oh you’ll love it.” He grinned with a word of confidence, and Papyrus heard a rumble from his chest. “You’ll even beg me for more.”

Oh. Oh wow. Stars Sans wasn’t always this way. But when he was--he was very alluring. Unfortunately for Papyrus, Sans noticed his stare linger longer than it should have. He winked smugly as Papyrus felt his blush deepen. Scrambling to hide it, one thought rang through his skull: That fucking asshole. “no no,” Sans reached for him with an amused shush, “don’t hide from me.” With that, he pulled Papyrus into an open-mouthed kiss. As their tongues collided and tasted each other, Sans pulled at the hem of Papyrus’ undershirt. Breaking their kiss momentarily, Sans lifted it over his head and hungrily continued. As his older brother ran his tongue over his teeth, Papyrus welcomed it, letting his own tongue explore when there was a chance.

 

Lapping at Sans’ blunt fangs, Papyrus wondered how the tips were more sharp. But then a thought occurred to him: All the better the hickies would be. He shivered at the thought. Meanwhile, Sans’s phalanges gently danced around his scapulae and ribs. Magic rubbed them and left them pleasantly sensitive, like a tightness was lifted, leaving Papyrus breathless.

 

"Hah--" he managed to gasp. Stars how was Sans so good at this? Phalanges lightly gripped his floating ribs, and his magic was responding--oh! Their kissing became sloppier by the second. Red and crimson magic stained their maxillae, and saliva ran down the tall skeleton’s cervical vertebrae. Down, down went Sans’ tongue as he sucked on the tips, eliciting a gasp and cry from Papyrus. Phalanges teased his newly formed vulva through his boxers.

 

“you ready bro?” Sans’s tongue descended to his clavicle. “you ready to be my little slut?” Papyrus whined audibly and his blush encompassed more than his zygomatic bones. “no, none of that,” his brother said breathily, commandingly, “no whining.”

Gritting his teeth slightly, Papyrus pulled off his undergarments so it dangled off one leg. A rumbling resounded from Sans’s chest as Papyrus lowered himself onto Sans’ phalanges. “good boy,” his brother praised. “you know what good boys get?”

It was like there were tongues where his phalanges wriggled. They wet and stretched him and Papyrus cried out from the ministrations. They lapped at his cervix and one managed to hit his G-spot, even if only for a moment. The tongues didn’t stay in one place very long though. Their intention was to tease, and tease they certainly did. Papyrus panted harder with each successful flick and thrust until he was gasping loudly. “do you like being a good boy?” Sans hummed into his temporal bone; hot breath making the skeleton under him tremble. Papyrus gasped.

 

"Yess," he moaned in reply. Stars Papyrus was so close.

 

“good,” Sans smiled as he suddenly removed the wonderful wetness. Papyrus caught himself whimpering in protest. “ah ah,” Sans hushed, “you get more later. now you have to be a good boy and get me ready.” Almost purposefully slow, he lowered the band of his shorts to reveal the glowing red below his waist. Then he lifted his hips and pulled them off altogether. The glowing magic struck Papyrus at full force as he desperately crawled to meet it. He stared half-liddedly at the cock presented to him before diving in. “you’re an eager little bitch aren’t you?” Sans breathed thickly, as Papyrus began lapping at the head. “haa--!! mmm...” Sans rewarded him by stimulating his coccyx.

 

Moaning, Papyrus flattened his tongue in earnest. The licks soon grew to encompass his brother’s length. Deeper and deeper he brought it up and down his magicked throat, until Papyrus felt it moving away. Plunging it in, he took his brother’s full length and lapped at the ecto-flesh beneath. The loud gasp and groans he got out of Sans made him shiver.

 

Sans clung to him as Papyrus began again and with an amazing display of self control, Sans pulled out of him early. With a surprised whine, Papyrus followed the red cock, his tongue reaching to lick it again. Instead, he felt his soul ding blue for a moment as Sans flipped him over. His back lightly thumped against his brother’s ribs. Sans hauled him up and maneuvered his cock near the puckered entrance.

 

“relax now,” he commanded, teeth teasingly close to his neck; his voice guttural and very very arousing. As Papyrus guided him into his hole, he couldn’t help crying out as Sans slowly penetrated him. He never could. (Not when it felt so very good.) As the shallow thrusts deepened, Sans asked him a question. “do you like being my butt slut?” Overwhelmed by the stimulation, Papyrus answered with a shaky reply, pitched higher than usual.

 

“I-I don’t know.” The reply nearly made him scream. Sans’s pace quickened and all Papyrus could do was clutch the sheets in desperation, loudly groaning the entire time. Soon Sans joined him, with guttural gasps against his cervical vertebrae.

 

“a-ah, you feel so good! ohh p a p y r u s~” He felt himself clench tightly around his brother’s cock at the noise. Oh. Oh Stars. Papyrus rode it out until Sans came. Pulling out of him this time, Papyrus rolled over and covered his face with a pillow. Damnit Sans was too good at this. He’d definitely need to up his game. “that wasn’t so bad now, was it?” Sans chuckled after he caught his breath. Papyrus huffed, then sat up.

 

“Don't be selfish now Brother,” he gruffed as he spread his legs, “you can’t leave me hanging.” Gesturing to his dripping entrance, he rocked side to side teasingly. “Not when I’m this wet for you.” Oh how Sans drooled. His tongue lolled out hungrily as he crawled between his legs.

 

“aww, and you were being so patient with me too,” Sans chuckled. A distal phalange ran up and down Papyrus’ femur, eliciting a shiver. “i suppose you deserve a reward.” At this, his brow ridges lowered.

 

“HEY, WAIT A STARSDAMN MINUTE,” Papyrus roared as he closed his femurs, “I LET YOU HAVE A TURN. YOU NEED TO LET ME HAVE MINE!” With a sudden brisk movement, Sans caught him by the femurs and forced them open. In a futile attempt to kick him away, Papyrus found Sans’s grip strangely solid. Damnit he shouldn’t be this aroused right now. Fuck. Sans' teeth nibbled on the inner bone of one and Papyrus moaned despite himself as his brother’s tongue lapped at his folds.

 

“now now, don’t be like that bro,” Sans chided as he licked his maxilla. “i know you like it.” Snapping his phalanges, a condom surrounded by blue magic appeared in the air between his pointer and thumb.

 

“I DO,” Papyrus reluctantly agreed, “AND I HATE IT.” Sans laughed heartily.

 

“don’t worry bro,” he smiled as he ripped the condom open and sheathed it onto his dick. “i’ll let you have your way next time.” As Papyrus watched, with anticipation, his eyelights caught his brother’s. Sans winked and Papyrus looked away, glowering the best he could through his blush.

 

“YOU B-BETTER,” Papyrus half-stammered, as Sans slowly aligned his cock with his vagina and began thrusting at a fixed pace. “OR I-I’LL HAaaa HAVE TO PUNISH YOU Ahh...APPROPRIATELY.” Sans’s pace steadily quickened and their heavy breaths resounded through the room. Sans brought his teeth to his brother’s temporal and huskily whispered.

 

“tell me what you’ll do boss. t-tell me how you’ll punish me.” Oh, bringing up that card now? Papyrus thought it fit to oblige.

 

“I-I’ll. Hah, cuff your c-carpals back while I teaaaahhh t-tease t-that hah fine cock of yours. Ohhh...then I’ll. I’ll. have you uugghhh...lick m-me until I’m satisfied.” Oh how Sans whined. He may be in charge now, but Papyrus knew his kinks just as well as he knew his. “You’ll have the c-cock ring on and I’ll. I’ll even take out the nnnnice blindfold.” With how frenzied Sans’s thrusts have become, Papyrus was having trouble verbalizing.

 

“more,” his brother demanded, his voice resounding in his skull, “more.”

 

“I’ll--I’ll. HAH tell you. How much of a fucking. DOG ugghhh you are. Uhhhnnnable to control his ooohhhwwnnn fucking COCK.” Oh, oh he was so close. Just a little bit more--

 

“yes,” Sans was ramming into him now. He must be very close as well. “y e s.” Now at a feverish pace, the sweat visible on both skeleton’s bones, the two’s cries loudly reverberated throughout the room as Sans pulled out and ejaculated on Papyrus’ inner femur. Exhausted, Sans collapsed over him, breathing heavily.

 

(Smut ends here!)

 

Papyrus rattled angrily. His bones flushed with rage as he uttered a loud keen of frustration. HOW. DARE. HE!

 

“YOU. INSOLENT. THRALL!” Pushing Sans off him, Papyrus rolled to the other side of the bed, taking the blanket with him.

 

“h-huh?! b-boss?” Sans unsteadily sat up beside him. “what is it bro?” Papyrus huffed as he jerked to face him, glare intense and glowing crimson.

 

“YOU FAILED TO PLEASE ME ENOUGH! YOU SELFISHLY LEFT ME AT MY PEAK WHEN I WAS SO CLOSE!!” Hot tears threatened to roll from his sockets but he didn’t care. “You KNOW how long it takes me sometimes!” Papyrus felt his brother’s phalanges brush his. “YOU KNEW AND YOU--” He took a shaky breath. The tears fell freely now. Stars this just wasn’t fair. “I...I JUST--” Warm arms engulfed him. Papyrus rested his chin on his brother’s scapula, hugging him tightly back.

 

“papyrus i’m so sorry,” Sans quivered. “i didn’t even think about it--i--oh stars.” He took a deep breath. “lemme make it up to you, please.”

 

“NO,” Papyrus interjected, facing him an arm’s length away. “I JUST, PLEASE DON’T DO ANYTHING STUPID. I JUST WANT US TO FIX THIS! IF NOT FIX, THEN ACCOMMODATE!” he drew Sans closer again and held him. “I JUST WANT TO BE ABLE TO COME WITH YOU SANS. NOT BY MYSELF, NOT WITH JUST A TOY. WITH YOU.” Papyrus took a breath and shakily exhaled.

 

“then, then next time we’ll plan ahead,” Sans suggested softly, nervously. “it’ll be better,” he promised, “we can get you ready, then it’s smooth sailing from there.” Pressing his teeth to his brother’s, Sans gave him a gentle nudge with his tongue. Papyrus turned away from it.

 

“L-later,” Papyrus muttered as he searched for a shirt, “I’m not in the mood.” Sans backed off.

 

“oh. okay.”

----------

 

When Papyrus left the room, Sans covered his sockets with his metacarpals.

 

“stupid, dumb fuck,” he swore under his breath. “you knew!” he yelled to himself. “you knew, and you messed up!” he felt tears roll down his zygomatics and maxilla. “i’m so sorry papyrus,” he cried softly. “i’m sorry.” He didn’t know how to make it any better. It was just how Pap was. It didn’t make it any better that orgasms came easy to Sans. They just had to work on it. They both did. Sans made it a personal goal to get his little bro to cum before him. Even if it took them hours. Even if he was drop-dead exhausted. Sans took a slow breath and wiped away the tears.

 

The pipes echoed slightly as the water in the bathroom turned on. Checking the time on his phone, Sans gritted his teeth. He needed to go to his shift soon. Grabbing a pair of shorts from his pile, he noticed his clothes from yesterday in a neatly folded pile near the wall. His jacket was hung up on a hanger in the closet. His shoes right next to the pile. Sans smiled sadly at it. Papyrus.

 

Putting the pair of shorts he pulled from his pile back, he put on the clothes from yesterday, idly rubbing his distal phalanges against the soft sweater Papyrus lent him. Not a speck of dust anywhere. Sans sighed in relief.

 

After getting dressed, Sans slowed as he came to the bathroom. Papyrus must have been done by now.

 

“bro?” he called as he gave the door a light rap. “i’m going to work now. text me when we’re heading to Undyne’s and i’ll meet ya there.” After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, he heard a muffled reply over the sound of the water. Sans furrowed his brow momentarily, then shrugged. eh. that’ll do.

 

Shortcutting to the kitchen, Sans grabbed a fuller bottle of mustard before ‘porting to his first shift of the day: the hotdog stand at Hotland. Or at least, his self-appointed hotdog stand. It was really a sentry station he just decided to sell hotdogs and hotcats from. It gave him shopkeeper immunity when Boss wasn’t around. Sans was just glad that Undyne even allowed it. That is, if she knew about it. Tiredly, he set up shop. At least he didn’t have to worry about food or breaks. Sans could always nap during the slower hours and leave some hotcats to the side for lunch. (After leaving some of his own pocket gold for the expense.) His inventory was safe for the most part, hidden in a magicked cooler in the recesses of his station. Since he kept them cold, cooking was really no problem. The heat from the lava would steam them if left over a tray of melted snow. And if the water got too hot? He could always boil them.

 

Sans played with the slightly sticky turtleneck of his lent sweater. Looking back, he probably shouldn’t have worn it here. But even through the heat, Sans didn’t mind. Having something of his brother’s was comforting. Even better if it smelled of him. Sometimes Sans imagined Boss were with him, that protective air surrounding him. He’d probably imagine it a bit better if it weren’t so damn hot.

 

He still tried, really. Only until he got customers, he told himself. Just for a little bit. Soon, they came in a trickling flood: Boss, with his arm around him. Boss, whispering sweet nothings to his skull and what he was going to do to him when they got home. Boss, speaking with that low, sultry growl that sent shivers up and down his bones. Boss with that temptingly exposed spine. Oh Sans could just lick every single vertebrae until his baby bro was whimpering and begging-- A sudden sizzling sound, and the skeleton moved with a jerk as a splash of lava landed on his counter top. Stunned, Sans looked down to see a vulkin. One of his regulars.

 

“The usual!” they squeaked demandingly. In that glob of lava that narrowly singed his sleeve was a gold coin, along with several others. Sans picked them up with blue magic and shook the fresh lava off.

 

“anything for you sweetheart,” he grinned with a wink. Shit. He was lucky they didn’t catch him in the deeper throes of his fantasy. That would have been embarrassingly hot. Sans giggled to himself as he gave them their hotdog. As they went on their way, Sans was soon solicited by another one of his regulars. The harpy this time. She landed gracefully despite having no wings. “hey hon, what’s the news in the other levels?”

 

“Oh!” she chirped excitedly, “you wouldn’t believe what I heard happened in Floor Three!” Sans let her rant about the latest happenings as he prepared her ‘dog. “...and then!! Oh you wouldn’t--but they!! Covered. Them. All. In webs! And they barely made it out with their lives but--” Presenting her hotdog to her, the harpy paused briefly to grab it with a claw. “Where was I?”

 

“someone tried to beef with the pastry queen again?” She beamed immediately.

 

“YES! And oh, she was so mad! They made off with some of her profit--BUT not without losing a limb~” At that, she laughed out loud. “Isn’t that so funny? She must be going soft or something!” Sans shrugged.

 

“guess you could say they slipped right through her fingers.” At this, the harpy laughed even harder.

 

“Hoo hoo! HO! Thanks for the hotdog! I better go now!” Sans waved her off, glad to learn something new even if it was only a rumor. Sitting down with a sigh, Sans leaned back and stared at the roof of his station. It’ll be a while til he saw any more monsters.

 

Whether it were sweltering heat or extreme cold, he liked his second job. (Second? Fourth? Sixth? It didn’t matter anymore. Juggling multiple tasks was nothing.) Being next to the bridge connecting Waterfall to Hotland, on occasion Sans would get relief from the blistering heat when a light breeze blew in. Sometimes, along with it came the Captain. She’d been visiting with The Royal Scientist a lot recently. Though it was mostly Undyne visiting them and not the other way round. Sans never usually saw the enigmatic Royal Scientist save for one occasion. He saw a stout, yellow monster in a lab coat installing a water cooler one day on the other side of the bridge. Sans had never seen someone just wearing a lab coat around, so he figured it was the big RS themself. Besides, there were no other scientists. Not anymore that is.

 

Sans wasn’t sure if anyone remembered when there was more than one scientist. At least, no one but him. Perhaps the RS did, perhaps they came in a lot later. Either way, Sans knew his jobs couldn’t compare to theirs. All alone, in that huge laboratory, with no visitors besides Undyne and the King? They must be so stressed out. Sans’s brow ridges furrowed. He’d hate to have their job.

 

But, he could give them some credit. They were the reason why the technology Underground, though decades late by Surface standards, was up-to-date and functioning. Whenever some newer version of garbage floated down from the Surface, they always seemed to improve their technology tenfold. Sans remembered when flip phones were introduced. And that one time Papyrus built a small house with a bunch of dead brick phones. He had called it his fortress.

 

Sans sighed reminiscently. Pap was the cutest baby brother in the Underground. He still was, according to his big bro. Sans hoped and prayed to the stars in the Surface’s sky that he could make it up him. Taking a deep breath, the skeleton exhaled steadily. Stars he just wanted his baby bro happy.

 

He wished it more than their freedom. And, he wished for it more than his own.

Chapter 3: Walks Are A Time To Reflect

Summary:

It's a long walk to Undyne's. Papyrus takes this time to think. After he jacks off, that is.

Notes:

This is more a worldbuilding and character developing chapter. The smut will return, I promise. c:

 

If you need a reminder of how Waterfall is laid out, here's a map!

He shouldn't have been so hard on him. Papyrus exhaled sharply.

“I mean, it felt really good,” he muttered to himself, as hot water washed over his bones, “but--” A low, frustrated snarl escaped through his teeth.

Stars he really needed to punch something. Just. Do. Something! To release all that sexual frustration his damn brother inflicted upon him. Like their house needed any more holes in it.

Sighing, Papyrus touched his clavicle in thought. As his other hand descended down, he slowly proceeded to finger his pubic symphysis. He really wished he didn’t have to, but Sans only managed to leave him insatiable.

Shouldn’t have had that hissy fit, he chided, you could have been going for round three right now. No matter though. He will make certain Sans take responsibility later that evening. Furiously fingering himself now, Papyrus imagined his brother on the floor, coccyx toward him, teasingly rolling his hips.

Red blush encompassing his bones. Sweat beading on his skull. That deliciously tantalizing glow bulging from his shorts, Sans tempting him with his undulating whines. And his carpals cuffed to his tarsals. Blindfold on, and no gag so he could hear him b e g. Papyrus felt his tongue loll as he panted.

“S-sans…” he breathed. “I--hah--want you,” he gasped. “I need you…” And oh, he could see him now, that desperate face--oh he wanted it so badly too. And he could almost hear him, with that breathy, guttural tone ringing from the deepest part of his throat--

“cum for me, bro. please, i need it so bad~”

“You can have all you want,” he panted, “you can have it all--hah. You fucking whore--”

Then a noise at the door made the tall skeleton freeze.

“bro?” Fucking void, not now! But no, the Great and Terrible Papyrus wouldn’t allow his embarrassment to prevent him from relieving himself! His phalanges stroked harder and faster as his brother kept talking. “i’m going to work now. text me when we’re heading to Undyne’s and i’ll meet ya there.”

Oh Stars that voice. That low bass resounding in his skull--how he could hear it pleading-- “boss! boss please! quit teasing! i want you in me! all of it! nnnngggghh booosssss!!”

And oh his tongue would taste every part of him, and how he’d s q u i r m. His breaths came in quick gasps as he imagined it--his seed spurting in ropes onto his slut of a brother’s bare bones, Sans’s loud cries as he comes as well.

Papyrus wanted it--he so wanted him! It took momentous effort for Papyrus to muffle his cry. But he was glad, oh so glad, that he’d finally got at least one orgasm today.

He slumped for a moment, glabella against the shower wall as he caught his breath. He’d have to wreck Sans for sure. Drying himself off, Papyrus stared hard at his obscured reflection.

“You need to apologize,” he commanded with scorn. Then the image fell away as Papyrus brushed his brow ridge lightly with a distal phalange. “I know,” he answered himself solemnly. “I know.”

---

By the time Papyrus dressed, Sans had gone. However unfortunate the timing, doing it right then as he was leaving would have been...inconvenient at best. Apologizing could wait though. It needed to. Scanning the fridge, Papyrus scowled in annoyance. All they had left were those Stars-damned condiment bottles his brother was fond of. Huffing, Papyrus closed the fridge and checked the cupboards instead. Of course.

He rolled his eyelights at his findings. Canned food, as per usual. Examining the metal cylinder, Papyrus sighed with relief. At least the contents weren’t threatening to explode from within the metal. Botulism was the least of their worries. Living out of Surface garbage had its cons. Most of the damned stuff was either broken or expired. More often than not, the only food one could find was either molded, mildewed, or barely recognizable if they weren’t in some kind of container. Some more unsavory than others. But when you’re living to survive, there’s no room for pickiness. The skeletons, a step above street vagrants, could afford to be choosy thanks to their current occupations. And for that, Papyrus was thankful.

The brothers didn’t have to scavenge like the beggar monsters on the streets. They didn’t have to fight to protect their possessions at night. They didn’t have to return home with another welt or wound from the previous day. They were safe. They had a home. They had each other. Their life was better. But they couldn’t afford to flaunt it.

 

Being able to shop for food was a luxury homeless monsters would dust for. Good food, if not covered by grease and glitter, was hard to come by in the Underground. Which was why Papyrus had a dealer; a stingy old turtle named Gerson. The brothers knew him first as the Second-in-Command of the Royal Guard, growing up. The Underground’s Home for Wayward Monster Youth (UHWMY) assigned them to him, where they observed and aided him as page boys. When they had no one else, he had helped them survive. For a price of course.

At that point, anything was better than living at UHWMY. Most of it resulted in light manual labor, like polishing his secondary weapon, or cleaning his giant hammer. But some of it was a little thing like perfecting a stance, or learning to read Common. The skeleton brothers never went hungry when Gerson was around, and though he kept them at a safe distance at first, he eventually (and unofficially) took them in. The turtle may not have been their father, but he was the closest they had to one. And when he was honorably discharged from The Royal Guard, the skeleton brothers stayed with him until they were accepted into the King’s Training Program for Royal Guardsmonsters. They had since relocated from Waterfall to Snowdin for their training and Guard duties. But on occasion, Papyrus made an effort to go visit the old turtle. Even if it was under the guise of a mere shopping run. After yesterday’s events, they desperately needed a return to normalcy.

Sawing a can open with a jagged knife, Papyrus drained it over the sink and proceeded to pry the lid further. Beans this time. The longer, green kind; not the one in that weird, chunky paste. The skeleton sighed with relief as he grabbed a fork. Any other bean was better than that kind. Papyrus found the pasted beans gritty and tasteless. Those heavily sauced avian wings, on the other hand, had texture. There was always plenty of those.

Leaning with his back against the counter as he ate, the tall skeleton began composing a mental shopping list. Most of what he bought was dependent on what was available of course, but sometimes the inventory brimmed with strange, new ingredients for experimenting. He hoped for the latter. Checking out the window, Papyrus watched as flakes lightly drifted in the air. Calmer than the day previous, the tall skeleton smirked with satisfaction. He could wear just his armor today, if he wished. No need to bring out the coat.

Gingerly inspecting the pastel sweater from yesterday, Papyrus opted for a slightly used one instead. If they were going to be fighting again, he’d much prefer his best clothes to be spared the inevitable rip. Carefully slipping the tyrian sweater it over his tank, the tall skeleton searched the closet for his armor.

Most reports were informal; they had to be when the majority of their faction was canine, who (though diligent in keeping their uniforms and armor on,) still managed to get...distracted on their way there. But Papyrus thought it best to wear his chestpiece and pauldron anyway. Appearances were everything, after all. Monsters needed to know he meant business.

Neatly tossing his scarf over the soldered metal, the skeleton put on his gloves and met the new day with a run.

------

Boots leaving a light trail of snow behind him, the tall skeleton set off for Waterfall. As he ran, Papyrus thought of his earlier actions. For reacting so strongly to his brother’s mistake, for yelling at him. His brow ridge furrowed as he slowed slightly. In the heat of the moment, Sans most likely...just forgot. His brother did many a task along with his many jobs, and on occasion he’d forget things. Some niggling, other not so much. But even through all his responsibilities, Sans made himself available whenever Papyrus needed him. His jog became a striding walk.

Sans did so much for him yet Papyrus didn’t know why. Sometimes it was excessive; like when he spent hours, days even, scavenging for materials when Papyrus mentioned he needed armor. They had taken it to Gerson’s for advice on how to shape and solder it into a masterpiece. Papyrus touched his breastplate lightly. Sans was so proud. They were so proud at the final product. The tall skeleton allowed himself a small smile at the memory. His brother had gone around and bragged about how cool Papyrus had looked to other monsters he'd meet. Even strangers. The tall skeleton had posed dramatically when asked. Sans always was the first to praise him, to provide him with time, and validation.

When it came to personal secrets though, Sans was notoriously terrible at sharing. Like how he could teleport. Now that he knew of it, Papyrus could think of many ways it could be of use. But only if Sans was willing.

The tall skeleton wondered if that was how his brother managed to be everywhere at once. It would explain how he could handle so many jobs at once, why he was tired all the time. Papyrus berated himself for not figuring it out sooner. He needed to stop scolding him for sleeping so much if that were the case. The oldest habits are the most difficult to destroy however. The tall skeleton wondered when it’d be considered normal to not wake him with a yell.

----

When the snow-covered ground became replaced by cave floor, Papyrus took a moment to let his eyelights adjust. Being lit mostly by crystals and the occasional glowing flora, Waterfall was the darkest area in the Underground. An ideal spot for ambushes. Papyrus needed to be watchful.

He inwardly wished Sans were with him. Trusting others outside of one’s immediate circle was difficult. Betrayals were rampant, as were petty liars and thieves. He passed an empty sentry station and its accompanying echo flower. Eyeing it suspiciously, Papyrus continued on his way.

Sure-footedly dodging falling rocks from the small waterfall, the tall skeleton kept his guard up. Ahead he saw a large patch of tall grass. Undyne mentioned once she wanted that said specimen to be left untouched. Something about helping the Royal Scientist with an experiment. Whatever the reason, Papyrus chose to abide by her wishes. Giving himself a running start, the skeleton leaped over it easily, and did the same for the flowered bridges. One monster had thought it tactfully funny once to leave a claw trap in one of the petals. He was (un)fortunate enough to observe a monster completely losing a toe to it. Papyrus wasn’t taking any chances.

More echo flowers greeted him in the next room. Among them stood the telescope Sans used to take him to when they still lived with Gerson. The two of them had fun finding shapes in the glowing crystals on the ceiling until there weren’t anymore to find. Papyrus sighed quietly as he reminisced. The flower closest to him echoed it. Then the rest followed until the room filled with sighing. The skeletal guardsmonster stiffly jerked away from them. He had forgotten how dangerous they were. How they betray even the most carefully thought out positions. How easily a monster could dust by their meddlesome whispers.

Spine stiff, the skeleton proceeded to the plank bridges. When not splintered and in need of repair, the bridges weren’t all bad. They kept monsters above the wet and sometimes led to a difficult maze puzzle. Why a maze in the middle of a series of bridges, the skeleton had no idea.

Perhaps Undyne ordered it, since she led the Waterfall Division of the Guard. To keep it amusing. But if so, the tall skeleton couldn’t imagine getting monsters to rebuild the bridges every time it was solved. Waterfall wasn’t Hotland, plus the resources could be used to repair existing structures. Either way, the bridges never strayed far from their tragic history on the cave walls. How Monsters lost against the Humans, how they were biding their time until they would be freed.

Papyrus liked to believe one day they’d all walk the Surface. But today was not that day. Not until a Human arrived. There hadn’t been another Human in a long time. The skeleton’s thoughts wandered to why the monsters in the Capital made a big deal about gaining another Human Soul when living day to day was hard enough. He had to admit, the prospect of seeing a real Human was exciting. A change of pace, yes, but the skeleton had preceding orders to subdue them should any arrive. He hoped his training didn’t go to waste.

 

When the walkway led to another large patch of grass, Papyrus expelled a sigh of relief. Almost there.

Chapter 4

Summary:

Sans gives a colleague relationship advice. Papyrus gets a ride from the strongest of small birds. The Fell bros make up. (Though unfortunately don't make out.) And we finally get to meet Undyne!

Notes:

Thank you all so much for your patience! I didn't mean for this chapter to take so long, but in addition to my writing my oneshot for Undertail FanFiction Contest, it kept growing in length. ^^;

So! Instead of a 20+ paged chapter, here's a shorter 18 pages. c:

It's conversation heavy, just to warn you!

It was nearing in the end of the shorter skeleton’s shift when he received a text. Glancing over at his phone, Sans produced the last of his hot dogs to his final customer of the day. Winking, he took their gold. The tsunderplane took their food and huffed. Flying away with their nose to the hot air, the tsunderplane’s engine intake whirred through the ‘dog with a minor squelch. The gold-toothed skeleton chuckled with amusement. They wouldn’t get very far in a relationship acting like that. But still, they were a looker if you appreciated their metal form.

Putting away his supplies for the day, Sans sighed with satisfaction and relief. It had been a good day, overall. An overenthusiastic Pyrope may have almost burned down his stand in an attempt to make their ‘dogs cook faster, but it was still better than most. When you’re at the foot of a bridge next to boiling hot lava, there’s gonna be environmental damage.

Opening up a shortcut over his kitchen sink, Sans gently tossed in the empty metal pan. He could recount numerous times he had almost gotten splashed by the occasionally large heat bubble, and there was that one time he nearly fell off one of the conveyor belts when it was at maxed speed. While dodging the lasers. Never again would he take a dare from Petard and Rowney. The black smoke monster and purple-suited dragon grew up to be giant assholes. It was a wonder Top-Heavy Todd tolerated them.

At least after that incident he understood why his brother despised Hotland. Papyrus was into the more traditional methods of dangerously strategic puzzles. Having witnessed them first hand, Hotland’s methods were much too extreme, and lacked that certain touch that gave each lovingly crafted puzzle their personality.

And as his brother would argue: the excess machinery made for more maintenance, and if not routinely checked, leaks. Not to mention the possibility of faulty wiring, worn belts, and misaligned axles. With all the mechanisms being above literal lava, it’d take a dedicated team to make certain all the gears and circuitry worked correctly. Delivering ice via the river was only a temporary solution, and never should have been used as the sole method of maintaining The Core’s temperature.

But with how often the executives rearranged the steam-powered pads, and conveyor belts, it was no surprise they hired cheap labor off the streets. Seasoned engineers could get the job done no problem, but the grunts were what really made the job interesting. At least, for the higher-ups.

So the location itself was a sore subject, save for one thing: a certain four-armed robotic celebrity.

If Hotland had anything even remotely interesting to offer the tall skeleton, it was Mettaton. A rising star at the appointing of the new Royal Scientist, they had since influenced monster culture; one being a new age of entertainment. Another being the robot’s horrifically expensive fashion line.

Oh, the lanky skeleton gushed about Mettaton’s purchasable collection of spiked footwear, and how one day he’d commission a pair of weaponized boots to “Strike TERROR into the souls of even the most Despicable of Monsters!” (To which Sans answered, “if they’re both practical and multipurpose, why not?”)

Neither brother bothered to question why a robot that got around on one wheel decided to have a line of shoes, but hey--it brought more revenue didn’t it? Just made for more G circulating throughout the Underground. (At least for those that had the money.)

To Papyrus, Mettaton was, and still is, a real hot topic. Sans couldn’t fathom it, but that four-armed box-on-a-wheel made his bro happy, so he just let it be.

It didn’t stop him from complaining about it if Paps blabbed too much about them though.

Since their rise to stardom, it hadn’t taken long for most of the Underground to get in on the newest trends set by the metallic celebrity. Heck, there were two main ways to dress after Mettaton. Grungy homeless and lots of pairings of black and red. Spiky jewelry was encouraged too, for that fierce look when most monsters didn’t seem threatening enough. Sans didn’t mind it, he wore red before it became popular. The collar was just an added bonus. Papyrus too, had many a garment that was already in fashion, though the only thing he was missing was the one thing Mettaton had an excess of.

Elbow length gloves.

Now, it was only practical for a skinless monster like him to have some kind of hand covering. Though, in all honesty, it was more to look great more than anything. Out of all their accessories, Papyrus had wanted gloves like Mettaton’s because they were more affordable than everything else the robot offered. Oh he pestered Sans about them--how they’d complete his lackluster look! How they were essential to his goal of not just looking cool, but being cool!

And Sans relented, only because he knew he could either find a cheaper alternative, or make what Paps wanted. Stars, Sans needed no other reason to break out the old sewing machine. He didn’t keep piles of discarded clothing and newspaper in his room for nothing. He certainly wasted no opportunity to hone his sewing skills. That is, when he wasn’t scavenging or working.

If getting to the Dump from Snowdin was a big enough trek when he was low on magic, getting to Hotland was arduous. With New Home being flush with monster citizens, all available public transport was usually crowded. And come the live-recorded feed of Mettaton’s multiple screenings, that same number was more than eager to reserve seats. That left...unconventional methods for the rest of the Underground.

Flying was the most chosen over the convoluted conveyor belt method, as was booking a line with an accommodating fish if the River Person was carrying too many passengers. Neither of these were very useful to the taller skeleton brother.

Unlike Sans, who could just shortcut there, Boss had to either briskly walk (more like run) or take the River Person’s boat (which more often than not, didn’t leave enough room to stretch his long legs.) And it wasn’t like the shorter skeleton didn’t enjoy a long walk out of doors with his brother; it was that most monsters who noticed the small, glitzy things were most likely to try something.

Tickets to see the four-armed robot live were expensive. Almost a week’s worth in gold. Just for one. And if some monster were to obtain one--if it wasn’t to attend the show themselves, it’d be to sell, gamble, or trade the ticket to pay for unstable commodities like food, or more unhealthier habits.

Sans would still shell out the dough for his baby bro if he asked. He would give him the sky if he could. But he would never allow him to go see the robot unsupervised. Not alone, where he could be taken advantage of. Not where he may let down his guard where he’s just another admirer to an idol. Another pixel on the robot’s screened face.

The possibility of Mettaton being an ass was the worst. The last thing his bro needed was an idol that didn’t care a lick about his efforts.

Sighing, the skeleton scratched at his brow ridge and sat down heavily. The wood chair complained at the sudden weight, but gave no indication of splintering. Good thing magic skeletons were light. Leaning forward, Sans buried his face in his sleeves and huffed.

If there was one good thing about Hotland, it was that business was steady. Almost at a stagnant steady. Thus far, it was the only place Sans had frequent customers. So long as he stayed clear of the patrols, the skeleton was fine.

No other guards besides him were stationed at the lower levels. He had made sure of that when he signed up for the position, after all. Normally though, there were two guards per level, one for each side of the elevators. That didn’t stop the pairs from patrolling together. In fact, as far as Sans knew, they always patrolled together.

It made it both a blessing a curse should they visit Level One when he’d be in the full swing of selling.

Inwardly, Sans wished he could put up shop closer to home. That way he wouldn’t have to expend so much idle magic on the cooler. Meant less naps, but it also meant more that energy could be used elsewhere. Tidying up maybe, or procuring better ingredients. Perhaps even get a business license to get a real stand--not just some hole-in-the-wall, word-of-mouth bullshit.

Leaning back on his chair, Sans crossed his legs onto the countertop. He had enough time for a short nap before he had to meet up with Papyrus and the Captain. Might as well make it count. Sockets just about closed, the skeleton jolted when a loud noise interrupted his attempt to nap.

“Bro, it’s the SD’s Sans!” Quirking his brow, the skeleton looked over at his mention. Glad he had no incriminating evidence of his food-selling, Sans’s eyelights lit up, if but a little tiredly.

“oh, wass’up Uno?” The armored rabbit-eared guardsmonster strode over to his station.

“Thought I’d like, never see your boney butt around these parts!” Sans grinned.

“well ya know me, i can be everywhere and nowhere.” Uno laughed. “so what brings you to Level One?” the skeleton asked. The rabbit guard’s station was up at Level Two. Unless given orders, he didn’t usually come down here, let alone visit Sans.

The laughter gave way to an immediate pause, as the rabbit guard’s gauntleted paws lifted sheepishly.

 

“Oh uh--I was looking for...you?”

“okay?” The skeleton uncrossed his legs and eyed the rabbit through the grates on his helmet. Carefully manipulating his chair with a flick of blue magic, the skeleton planted its wood feet on the ground. “did you...wanna talk about something?” The tall guardsmonster shifted around.

“Like, dude--I have uh. A proposition for ya.” Sans’s brow ridge lifted.

“oh?” A favor. Uno didn’t usually call those in. Must be important.

“Yeah uh. Y’know Duke? M’partner?” Sans chuckled to himself.

“y’mean deux?” he asked, eyelight flickering with amusement. “what about’im?” Not bothering to correct him, the armored rabbit continued.

“I uh...y’know how your bro and you are like, uh--” The guard began hopping, his armor clunking. “comfortable around each other?”

“ya mean how we talk?” Sans’s eyelight smoked coquettishly now. “or how we flirt?”

“FLIRT YEAH THAT’S THE WORD,” Uno answered, a little too loudly. Leg apprehensively thumping against the ground, the rabbit guard scratched at the back of his neck in a self-conscious manner.

“Anyway, bro. You’re the SD to my HD. My SD bro. My Snow Bro. So I’d like any advice dude.” If he didn’t know any better, the skeleton could hear an anxious smile crack from beneath that helmet. “I’d totes appreciate it, bro.”

After a moment of thought, Sans chuckled and shrugged. Stars, Uno was too cute.

“why not?” he smiled, “what’s it ya need?” Restless leg suddenly springing him into the air, the rabbit reeled himself back before he could collide with Sans’ station. Clutching at his chest, Uno faced the skeleton, expelling a breath with relief.

“OH. MY STARS BRO. Thank you,” he gasped gratefully. Giving himself a little bit to compose, Uno stood, and lifted his helmet slightly. “Wow, Stars I might’ve almost gave myself heatstroke. D’ya have anything for that?”

“hm? oh. gimme a sec.” Rummaging through his magicked cooler, Sans produced a bisicle. “dunno how long it’d last out here, but here ya go.”

“No worries bro,” Uno smiled, taking the offered treat, “I totes appreciate Snowdin specialties. Miss’em sometimes, y’know?”

Sans thought about what to ask while the rabbit guard bit through the bisicle vigorously. The rabbit nursed his head a moment before slurping up the now-unisicle. In hindsight, Sans could have just gotten him a drink from the water cooler across the bridge, but hey. Who’d wanna get up and do that?

“i’d just say go talk to him,” he began, “but if you’re nervous about how he’ll react, then start slow.”

“Dude, he’s like, so cool, though!” Uno lamented, chewing on the bisicle’s sticks. “The chillest of bros! I wouldn’t want him to think I’m lame!”

“uno, c’mon. how long have ya known the guy?”

“Since we started the RGP?” Sans sighed. He didn’t think too much of the rabbit’s nervousness. By the Void, he felt the same way when he first recognized his feelings for his bro. All Sans could suggest really, was time.

“look dude. before you can be more than assigned partners, ya gotta be friends. that way you’ll know if this is more than just some crush.” The rabbit nearly poked splinters into his tongue when he bit the wood sticks in half.

“But like, how do I do that if I’m afraid to talk to him?” he asked, tossing the broken pieces of wood over the bridge. Shrugging, the skeleton opted for a more lighthearted answer.

“if yer really stuck, there’s no shame in asking about the weather.” Sans joked, as he watched the lava sizzle below.

“But it’s always hot in Hotland, bro!” Uno cried out. The skeletal monster furrowed his brow with mock seriousness.

“y’can’t start flirting if you can’t hold a decent conversation, buddy.”

Not like Sans didn’t flirt all the time with Paps. It was for fun really. And the most during the more inappropriate occasions.

“But what if that’s all I can do?” Stars, the rabbit reminded him of his younger self.

“buddy, pal,” Sans said, reaching over to give Uno a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “ya never know if ya don’t start somewhere.” The royal guard-rabbit sighed.

“Alright bro,” he smiled through his helmet, feigning confidence, “I’ll do my best.”

“atta boy,” Sans grinned, punching him lightly on the arm-or. (heh.)

It was here that the skeleton’s cellphone rang.

“Whoops. You should take that, bro,” the rabbit guards-monster chuckled, “it’s probs your bro.”

“y’know what?” Sans smiled without looking at the screen, “it probably is.”

“I’ll catch ya later, yeah?” Uno called out, hopping backwards while finger-gunning the skeleton.

“yeah,” Sans responded with a grin, “see ya ‘round!”

 

Once the guards-rabbit was out of earshot, the gold-toothed skeleton answered his phone with a flick of a phalange.

“talk dirty to me,” he purred huskily.

“NOT NOW SANS,” Papyrus quickly responded. “THIS IS A MATTER OF EXTREME IMPORTANCE.” Sans could still imagine a blush over his brother’s zygomatic processes, threatening to blow his cover.

“oh?” he asked with a low chuckle, “and what might be more important than flirting with my cute baby bro?”

“IT IS A MATTER OF THIS TINY BIRD, SANS,” Papyrus declared. “IT IS PREVENTING THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE PAPYRUS FROM LEAPING ACROSS THIS EASILY JUMPABLE GAP.” Sans squinted with confusion.

“what, ya scared of crushing them, boss?” he asked, flirtatious tone disappointingly held off.

“NO, THEY REFUSE TO MOVE OUT OF MY WAY! THEY KEEP FLITTING ABOUT AROUND MY SHOULDER, BUT THEY DON'T LAND. THIS TINY BIRD SHOWS MUCH RESOLVE AGAINST THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE PAPYRUS!”

The cogs churned in the stout skeleton’s skull until it finally clicked.

“boss, boss--” he quickly asked, “they’re a yellow one right? bout the size a’ your skull?”

“YES, YOUR VAGUE DESCRIPTION IS FAIRLY ACCURATE,” Papyrus scoffed over the phone, “WHAT OF IT?”

“that’s the bird who wanted to join the rgp, but undyne said they needed to be stronger first. so they up and decided to carry any monster across that gap as a form of training.”

A moment of silence, and Sans almost felt a snicker through his teeth.

“YOU CAN’T BE SERIOUS,” Papyrus deadpanned.

“nah bro,” he responded, “i’m sans.” A loud groan on the other end left the gold-toothed skeleton with a fit of giggles.

“YOU HAVEN’T BEEN HANGING AROUND THAT BRUNO GUY AGAIN, HAVE YOU?” Papyrus queried with mock suspicion.

“what makes ya say that bro?” he asked, snickers subsiding.

“YOU EXHIBIT A STRANGE LILT AFTER YOU SPEAK WITH HIM,” his brother explained, “FRANKLY IT IS UNLIKE YOU AND VERY ANNOYING.”

Oh. Well Stars. He forgot Paps noticed those kinds of things.

“b-but anyway boss,” Sans continued, diverting to the original subject, “you should give that lil bird a shot. let’em do it so they can prove themselves.”

There was a momentary silence as his bro, what Sans guessed, gave the small bird a once over.

“ALRIGHT BRAVE, TINY BIRD,” announced the tall skeleton, “SHOW THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE PAPYRUS WHAT YOU ARE TRULY CAPABLE OF!”

Sans could have sworn he heard a determined peep on the other end of the line, so he figured he’d pop over there too.

“hey boss i'm gonna head over there now, ‘kay?” And without waiting for a response, the stocky skeleton teleported to the spot the yellow bird usually waited.

At this point, he had to keep himself from laughing with amusement as the bird dutifully lifted his tall brother inches off the ground. Their claws tightly pinched at the fabric of Papyrus’ purple sweater as they carried him slowly over the water.

Sans grinned as he sat and waited for his brother to make it to the other side. Stars this was adorable. Paps was wearing the armor they made together.

Thinking back, it took days to scavenge up all that usable metal, and scraps of leather. Of course, not every piece he found was spotless or dent-free, so he had to improvise. The effort wasn’t wasted however, because Gerson, with his connections to the Royal Guard; was able to provide them access to a workbench. Since neither brother truly knew how to work the forge, they used the next best technique.

Layers of cut, steel sheet metal, with dents hammered out best they could, were soldered together to create an armor thick enough to protect his brother’s ribs from harm.

Unfortunately, they didn’t have enough to do more than a simple, sharp pauldron as an embellishment, but Papyrus had loved it either way. To have a chest-piece such like that was a luxury only Capital dwellers could afford. And all it had taken was stubborn dedication and time. To his credit, Sans never wanted to put that much effort in anything again. Not unless it brought that happy glow out of his bro. And as he watched his brother fly closer, the skeleton’s eyelights dimmed slightly with realization.

Stars did he need to remedy his mistake earlier that day. His thoughts rifled through all the possibilities and scenarios that could occur, but none seemed right, let alone accurate. So, what was he gonna say? What was he gonna do? When Boss got all stressed he’d lash out, but oh Stars he didn’t give Sans the cold shoulder unless it was serious. Sans wasn’t sure if leaving to work so quickly was a good option, but if his bro needed time, so did he.

Then a thought bubbled and burst in the back of his head.

Stupid, dumb, fuck.

The thought drowned out the voice that quietly insisted Papyrus loved him. Louder than he would have liked, it rang in his skull mockingly--a cacophony of negativity.

It wasn’t until the stocky skeleton heard boots lightly shift the grass that he stopped berating himself. Gazing up at his brother, the thoughts quieted, and Sans felt his soul swell. Papyrus, standing tall and proud, smirked down at him. The little bird peeped triumphantly as they released their hold on the lanky skeleton’s sweater.

“IF MY POSITION WERE OF HIGHER STANDING,” he addressed the small avian monster respectfully, “I WOULD PETITION FOR YOUR ACCEPTANCE INTO OUR PROGRAM. ALAS, ALL I AM ALLOWED IS A RECOMMENDATION. PRAY TELL, NOBLE BIRD, WHAT IS YOUR NAME?”

The yellow bird peeped in response. Dumbfounded, Papyrus wrinkled a brow ridge as he lowered himself to their level.

“I BEG YOUR PARDON?”

“let’s just call’em sb,” said Sans, rising from his seated position.

“FOR WHAT?” his brother inquired.

“small bird,” the shorter skeleton shrugged. “dunno. what about little yellow?”

“NICKNAMES WILL ONLY CONFUSE THEM, SANS,” the taller brother protested, “LOOK AT THEM. BARELY ALLOWED FUNCTIONING SPEECH DUE TO THEIR UNFORTUNATE SIZE.”

“boss, stop that,” Sans shushed him. “y’don’t need to tell’em what they already know.” The tall skeleton brother huffed in mock annoyance as he straightened and turned to keep watch. Sans smiled to himself when he noticed the gesture. Boss felt the need to protect him all the time, which would have been cute if it wasn’t a necessity. Having low HP usually attract monsters looking for easy pickings. With how intently he stood, Sans hoped that meant he wasn’t still upset. Bending down to introduce himself, the stocky skeleton offered a phalange to the bird. “name’s sans,” he smiled, as the bird touched a feather to the bone. “sans the skeleton. thanks for taking care of my boss. he can be quite the burden am i right?” The corners of the small bird’s beak curved into a smile. Sans could swear the peeps afterward sounded like laughter.

“heh. hard to find a good monster like you still around,” he grinned. “glad you’re here little dude. glad you’re keeping on.” At the praise, the small bird beat their wings and puffed their chest, thin talons bouncing on the dark grass. “haha. yeah, you’re a strong monster!” the amused skeleton agreed, “don’t let anyone tell ya different.”

“ARE YOU ABOUT FINISHED?” Papyrus asked, glancing at the two from over his shoulder, “WE HAVE DAWDLED LONG ENOUGH.”

“yeah, yeah, whatever ya say boss,” Sans chuckled lightheartedly.

 

Waving goodbye to the feathered monster, the brothers set off to their destination. Near the corner Shyren panhandled for gold, Boss broke the comfortable silence.

“SANS I DON’T UNDERSTAND WHY YOU FEEL THE NEED TO DO MORE THAN YOU SHOULD,” the tall skeleton said, peering at Sans with deft eyelights.

“dunno what ya mean boss,” he smiled tiredly. Stars Sans wished he had taken that nap. Today was quite eventful as is.

Another moment and the two lapsed into silence once more.

“THERE IS, AH…” Papyrus paused to collect his thoughts. “A MATTER I WISH TO DISCUSS WITH YOU FURTHER,” he continued. “IF YOU WILL ALLOW IT.”

Oh. Paps wasn’t too secretive when he had something in his skull. Normally he’d tell Sans outright. What made this time any different?

“whatever it is, it can wait right?” he asked. Boss shifted as he walked. His strides seemed less long and surefooted.

“I AM NOT POSITIVE IF IT CAN,” he replied, almost nervously, and gradually halted as he spoke. “I HAVE BEEN REHEARSING IN MY HEAD HOW I WOULD GO ABOUT DISCUSSING IT WITH YOU BUT...IT APPEARS I AM NOT AS READY AS I THINK.”

Sans stopped and faced his brother. Red eyelights trembled as they locked with his.

 

“what is it?” he asked quietly. “is it about this morning?” Oh Stars, he wasn’t ready to talk about it yet. His soul sank as his bro’s demeanor changed.

Papyrus turned away slightly and nodded. Surveying the area for a moment, the armored skeleton uttered his reply.

“I have been--unfair to you,” he confessed. “I was frustrated and it subsequently clouded my better judgement. So, it wasn’t your fault, Sans.”

Biting back a retort, the stout skeleton swallowed. This wasn’t the time to argue.

“bro, y’don’t need ta apologize. it was me who messed up. it’s me who needs to make it up to ya.”

“No,” Papyrus insisted. Taking Sans’s bare phalanges in his gloved ones, he squeezed them tightly. “You must understand my feelings. I have not been…open. And honest as of late. With them, and with you. So, if you will allow it, can we try it again?”

“when’s...a good time?” the elder skeleton sibling asked hesitantly. Papyrus thought a moment.

“Perhaps when we return home,” he suggested. “after the meeting.” Sans smiled elatedly.

“this time, we’re going about it right,” he winked.

“As much as I’d love to take you up on the offer, Brother,” he smirked salaciously, “I’d rather we wait until we have more...privacy.”

Sans laughed aloud.

“fine boss, you win.”

-------

The walk to Undyne’s was met with no further issues, and the echoed padding of their steps was only interrupted by the sound of stifled laughter.

“--and i kept tellin’em, 'the dogs’ll be out, just give’em another minute.' but man that little thing coiled up and shot up the temp like a furnace, and stars was it hot as is--”

“Did you inform them that there is a difference in standard between thoroughly cooked and undercooked hotdogs?”

“well no, but once they started smelling like another fire, i knew they had ta stop.”

“So what did you do?” Papyrus smirked, as if to conceal a knowing smile.

“what else was i supposed ta do? i tore’em outta the pan, an’ slapped’em onta some buns and called it good.” Making a revolted face, Sans lamented as he recounted the event.

“was an embarrassment of how they normally look yeah? practically charred, meat’s all split, and not a condiment in the underground could save the flavor.” Throwing his hands up dramatically, he faced his bro. “but cha know what?”

“What?” the taller brother put a hand to his chin, eager to hear the end.

“they. just. took’em. 'Perfect!'” mimicking the nasally voice of his customer, Sans narrated their conversation. “'This was exactly what I wanted!' voidshit! i said, 'buddy if ya like yer dogs burned to a crisp, ya gotta find yerself another hotdog stand becuz i ain’t gonna serve any other customer a dog like yers.'”

“And what happened?” Papyrus asked, sensing there was more to the story.

“and they just--gathered’em all up--an entire pan’s worth, mind’ya. and gave me more g fer the trouble. scoffed at me like ‘m some lowlife begging fer it yeah? and their voice goes all low like those back-alley new home dealers.

'Ya know very well you’re the only hotdog stand around, and buddy--you know I’ll be back.' and they just smile, and hop away. no condiments on’em neither. just plain, burned dogs on plain ass buns. shoulda asked if they wanted that bread toasted too,” he chuckled shortly, “i mean, they’re a pyrope so i’s can understand why they’d want it that way--but still.” Papyrus patted his back as Sans slumped forward. “was such a waste a good ‘dogs!”

“Not everyone appreciates the work of a food salesman,” he agreed.

“not even a starsdamned thank you,” Sans muttered crossly. Sighing, he straightened up, and stretched out a kink from his back.

“anyway, cuz of that, i was low on stock, so i had to scrounge up more dogs from the deep freezer. last customer wasn’t too happy wid the wait though. gave me a steel shoulder tha whole time.” Smiling to himself briefly, the stocky skeleton expelled a long sigh. “the things i do to do what i love.” Putting an arm around the now slouching skeleton, Papyrus smiled.

“At least when you are stable, you won’t have to tolerate such jack-asses.” Sans shook his head solemnly.

“believe me, i’m the most stable i ever been. food sales are just wrought with unhappy monsters pap,” he flatly stated. “lookit wells. nice scream ain’t exactly a hit wid the snowdin crowd. and until he gets his business off and inta the stars, he ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

“Has he attempted to sell his goods elsewhere? He’d find the best opportunities where he’ll be most received if he can find the right type of consumers.”

“d’ya think he got the g for that?” Sans scoffed, “he ain’t got enough ta fix that squeak in the left wheel. ‘sides, muffet would flip her shit if he went anywhere close ta those plush purple carpets near her shop. y’know how competitive she is.” Papyrus crossed his arms and stood his ground. Unconsciously, his brother followed suit.

“And I thought you a highly opportunistic businessman, Sans,” he chided with mock offense. “If you help get him on his feet, you both could have a good partnership. And you can advertise each other, perhaps even have special deals for those who frequent your stands.”

“whoa whoa whoa,” open hands batted at the advice. “where’s all this coming from? business ventures ain’t my thing pap.”

“Perhaps not, but there is no success without risk,” the tall brother affirmed. “If the programs I’ve been watching are indeed correct, all you really have to do is try.”

Unconvinced sockets narrowed at the thought.

“The only thing you’d be losing is time,” Papyrus reasoned. “With how regular your customers are, you’re less likely to lose them if they are as loyal as you say.” The shorter of the two scratched at the back of his skull.

“look, i dunno’em that well. what if they’re not interested? what if we go downhill before we even start?” Brow ridges knitting, Sans set his teeth in a tight line. “‘m not even supposed ta even be doin’ this, boss,” he hissed warily, “if undyne finds out--she’s gonna be so pissed.”

“Sans,” Boss’s voice lowered so only he would hear. “If you were to succeed, you wouldn’t even need to be afraid of Undyne. Because by then you’d be in the books. A serious brick-and-mortar establishment. Even if only in cart form.” Allowing himself a hopeful smile at the thought, the shorter skeleton considered the possibilities.

“okay, maybe it’s a good idea,” Sans conceded, “but i don’t wanna get in trouble if we get big.”

“That’s why if you do, I’ll make certain of it.” The unmistakable disbelief in Sans’ sockets met his brother’s sincere eyelights.

“you’d do that?”

“I give you my word,” Papyrus smiled, “as a future lieutenant of the Royal Guard Program, you will find sanctuary in me.” The biggest grin overtook the shorter skeleton’s face as he leaped into his brother’s chestplate. Catching him with long arms, Pap nuzzled Sans briefly before letting him go.

“thank you,” the gold-toothed skeleton gratefully whispered. “i mean, i don’t mind the rgp bro, but stars the hours are demanding.”

“It’s a wonder you still push yourself to meet their expectations,” Papyrus teased. “Explains why I’m always catching you napping.”

“hey most of us regular monsters ain’t built with yer energy boss,” Sans playfully argued. “i know i sure ain’t.” Smiling to himself, the tall skeleton sighed.

“I’m just...worried, Sans,” Papyrus admitted. “You do so much, with little to no recognition. Yet you continue as if it’s no big feat.”

No other monster he knew worked as many hours as the older skeleton sibling did. No other monster Sans knew had the motivation to. Then again, he required no other form besides Papyrus. His super cool bro was all he needed.

“it’s cuz it’s not bro,” Sans answered simply. “that just draws unwanted attention. y’know how i am.” Cracking a wide grin, he continued with a slightly saucy tone and a wink, “y’know the only attention i want is yours.”

Sockets like saucers momentarily, his cute brother turned away a moment to hide the crimson dusting on his cheeks.

“Stars damn you Sans,” Papyrus huffed. “You’re infuriatingly adorable.”

“i can say the same for you,” he agreed flirtatiously. “c’mere.” Standing on his toes, Sans planted a chaste kiss on Pap’s cheek, and giggled when his bro lifted his scarf to conceal his face. Pushing his bemused older brother away, Papyrus shot him a not-so-serious glare.

“That’s enough,” he reproved mildly. “We’re here.”

---

Once at the Captain’s house, Papyrus politely wiped his feet on the mat before rapping at the door. As they waited for a response, he regarded his brother with a sideways glance. Though Sans appeared his usual self, he was carrying himself a little slouchier than normal, and his eyelights had glowed less vibrantly since he finished his story.

“Go rest,” he commanded softly.

“ya sure?” Sans asked, not bothering to hold back a yawn. Papyrus nodded.

“I’ll handle her. You regain some energy.” The corner of his jaw lifting slightly, the tall skeleton urged him with a sweep of his chin.

“have it your way boss.” The shorter skeleton rocked on his heels as a blip of blue magic followed him a ways away. “keep in touch.”

Papyrus waited until the magic dissipated. Stubborn as the tall skeleton was, he and Sans had butted heads over little things like this. And this time was an exception. It wasn’t that Papyrus thought it embarrassing or belittling to show up accompanied by his brother--Sans and Undyne just never got off on the right foot.

Intimidating as the Captain was, the stout skeleton had decided that answering to her was unnecessary. As much as his brother’s behavior annoyed her, Sans was the most reliable of the other sentries. With his ability to teleport known to Papyrus now, it made sense how his brother was able to appear at the drop of a hat.

Undyne found him more a relentless fly over her head more than anything. Not that Sans brought the worst in others--he was just really good at pressing their buttons. If he chose to that is.

Papyrus could say he sent him away out of partial fear over worry. But he truly did not want to see Sans passing out should they need to venture into the woods again.

He couldn’t protect him if he couldn’t keep up.

 

A steady gloved hand reached for the door. It opened with a creak. Like the stinking maw of a beast just fed, he could smell the stench of the night previous wafting in her abode. If he had a throat he would surely swallow the hot saliva of warning. If he had the ability he’d bite back the urge to vomit.

He didn’t need to know the Captain long to pick up on her primary vice. Sometimes he wished he weren’t so perceptive.

Gently nudging a bottle away from the threshold, the tall skeleton stepped quietly into the Captain’s house. His only hope for now was that she was asleep. Undyne, though loud and brash when sober, was a very quiet, calculative drunk. Dangerously so. The best case scenario was always if he caught her slumbering. He could gently wake her then. Nurse her hangover. He’d done it before, when he had to physically drag her sorry ass out of the filthy water of The Dump. Papyrus barely recognized her then. The glowing ends of her antennae had dimmed, but he smelled the damage before they illuminated the gaping emptiness that was her left eye.

The tall skeleton softly stepped through her home, sniffing every once in awhile, and covering his face with his scarf. He never asked what had happened that evening, but inwardly he knew--the loss of her eye was just the beginning. As he reached the open door of her bedroom, the skeleton sentry seethed at the sight of her sprawled body. Half hanging off her unkempt bed, uneven teeth jutted from her gaping maw. Empty bottles of different sizes littered her room.

Looking at her now, Papyrus was disgusted at how far she had fallen. Teeth set in a repulsed frown, the tall skeleton unthinkingly grabbed the fish by the scruff of her loosened collar.

“Get up,” he commanded. Startled, Undyne’s mouth snapped shut. Red laced the yellow sclera of her eyes.

“Puh--pyrus?” she drooled dumbly, absentmindedly wiping saliva from her chin. “What you doin’ ‘ere?” Weakly reaching for the skeleton’s arms, spit covered hands grasped at the fabric of his gloves. Papyrus did his best to not recoil at her touch.

“You sent for me,” he said slowly, firmly. “We need to talk. Sans and I, we found something in the forest.” The fish monster rubbed at her head.

“Dun remember much a last night,” she drawled. “Alphys though...” her eyes widened, and pupils shrank. “Alphys.” Half falling, half pushing, Undyne elbowed at the plated space his internal organs would be if he had any. To his displeasure, she managed a dent in her stupor. “Lemme go Pap--” she slurred. “Alphys--I gotta--” Wrestling herself away, her bare foot slipped on a rogue bottle.

“Not in your condition,” the skeleton growled, thrusting a calculated hand out to catch her. Still she fought. Even as he wrested her with both arms inches above the carpet. She wasn’t the strongest guard for nothing. She wasn’t Captain for nothing.

Even in this state he still respected her. Even showing her ugly side she was still his best friend.

“She SAW!” the fish monster cried out in desperation. Flinging her weight backward in an attempt to unbalance him, Undyne reiterated, “She fucking saw Pap--” Holding his ground, Papyrus steadied himself, as he shifted back to counter her weight. She swung an elbow near his face, and it grazed his zygomatic process. “And I tried ta…I fucking--” Papyrus held her firmly. Until her wails filled the room. Until her protests reduced to sobs.

Her upper half finally gave out as she hung her head in shame. Lifting his arms to cover her face, she wiped at rolling tears. Her breaths came out as gasps. And it was here that he let his friend down. Slowly releasing his hold on the sobbing fish, the skeleton backed away.

Tiredly sighing, Papyrus brushed at the point of impact on his cheek. Allowing her a moment, he crouched by her side and drew a protective arm around her shoulder. Leaning into her better fin, he brushed hair-like strands of antenna from her face.

“You can apologize once you’ve cleaned up,” he uttered. “Perhaps by then your recovery will be swift.” Strong arms caught him off guard as they embraced him. Nodding into the metal over his chest, Undyne faced him with tear-stained cheeks.

It had never been this bad before. Though Papyrus didn’t fully understand the situation, he accepted the hug, as his friend and Captain squeezed him again.

Chapter 5

Summary:

A much needed conversation ensues between Papyrus and Undyne.

Notes:

Thank you all so much for your patience!! I had trouble with this chapter--god did it sit for a while. I had written two scenarios for this that were growing in length and it just. wasn't. working until I took pieces from each to make a satisfactory result. c:

This is shorter than the previous chapter but I do hope you all enjoy!

Undyne was always the ideal picture of self-confidence. Strong, and unafraid to show it. Eager to promote justice and protect the weak. Even if it meant she throw herself into situations others wouldn’t, even if it meant injury.

Papyrus admired her then, in her reckless youth. He still did even after Asgore took her under his proverbial wing. She was the hero everyone needed and deserved.

So to see her at her lowest was difficult. To have to shoulder the burden of how she privately destroyed herself was equally disheartening.

But if he didn’t try to help her through it, who would?

 

Once you become the image of strength in the Underground, it’s difficult to allow yourself times of weakness. It’s almost seen as a betrayal of the people. Perhaps that was why Asgore put so much on her, why she was constantly in a state of stress. Because he too couldn’t match that idealism either.

Because being King, he could only do so much for his people and himself. And as Asgore had little company to turn to when in times of desperation, it seemed using Undyne as a crutch was all he was capable of now.

Papyrus couldn’t stand that she allowed it. All it did was result in a vehement cycle of repeated suffering.

What Undyne needed was an intervention. What she needed was a better way to cope.

Wringing his hands in frustration, Papyrus glared at a bottle in the hallway, before proceeding to fling it into the nearest waste bin. The glass shattered upon impact, and the skeleton expelled a satisfied sigh.

Determined, the skeleton vowed he’d beat the habit out of her if he must. Superior or not, Undyne was his friend. He would not tolerate this behavior any longer.

The tall skeleton leaned against the wall outside the bathroom. Muffled splashes of water and the slap of a towel echoed through the door as she bathed. Huffing, Papyrus took a moment to slowly exhale. There was no need to fly off the handle. He was better than this.

 

Once he heard the sound of water draining, he strode to the kitchen. Filling a kettle with water, the skeleton set it on the burner and adjusted the flames so they danced underneath.

Sifting through her cupboards, he gingerly shook and removed empty containers until he found a forgotten box of tea in the back of the highest shelf. Examining it, Papyrus sighed quietly, as he poured the dried petals into a small strainer. Opening the cabinet next to the stove, he peeked at the contents.

As she lived alone, Undyne never really needed more than one cup, yet she kept a cupboard full. All aquatic themed in some capacity. But only one of those stood out the most to her.

It showed through the fade in color, and the interior’s ringed stains. It showed with the way she held it gingerly at the fan-tailed handle, and how she’d idly thumb its smooth snout when in thought.

Papyrus reached for it, that cup, and washed the dust off its glazed surface. It reminded him of happier, simpler times not long ago. Before all this responsibility, before Undyne rose the ranks to become Captain.

Before, in the absence of the Queen, she was chosen to become the King’s successor.

 

Waiting for the strangled whistle of the kettle, Papyrus set the strainer over the ceramic mug and poured the water in. Tea now soaking, he readied a tray with sugar, and walked down the hall to Undyne’s room. Lightly knocking on the door jamb, Papyrus treaded into her room, where his fish friend was tossing crumpled shirts from her closet onto her bed.

“Fucking idiot, past-Undyne,” she snarled to herself. “Why in the Void didja not do laundry?” Setting down the tray on her mostly clean nightstand, Papyrus idly threw some bottles into the nearest wastebasket.

“If you need, I can do it,” he offered. Undyne shot him an imposing glare as she tossed a balled-up garment at her bed.

“‘m not gonna ask you to do my laundry Papyrus.” Shrugging noncommittally, the skeleton smirked.

“Why? Worried I’ll see the 'presents' you acquire for your Lady Love?”

“Oh please,” she scoffed, “like you haven’t seen me in worse.” A badly repressed snort escaped from his teeth.

“Stars that was almost embarrassing.”

“Remind me to never go to formal events in anything besides my tailored suit,” she scoffed. With her hands she mimicked yapping dogs, her voice a ranging mockery of falsetto to bass.

 

“'Captain you say? A Lady such as yourself?' 'Outrageous! Astounding! A sideshow I’d pay to see!' 'May I Offer My Lady A Cleansing Beverage of Gross-Ass Internal Turmoil?' 'oh of course i’d love to show open disgust over your clearly awesome battle scars!' Blah blah blah blah blah.” Hands now clenched into fists, her knuckles met, popping in the process. “Glad Royal Meetings are only once a year. I can’t stand those prissy ass Capital monsters.”

“I swear, they always seem to have a stick up their asses,” Papyrus giggled from behind his hand. Amused at her mockery of them, he added his own as well, pantomiming his own steaming cup of tea. “'As A Skeleton, Do You Sir Also Find The Dastardly Presence of Us Fleshy Monsters To Be Highly Offensive?' 'What about the tax on snow? Do you believe it unjustified and unregulated a practice--an excuse for the King to steal our hard-earned g for his own monetary gain?' Um hello, it’s called stimulating the economy? Taxes wouldn’t be a thing if we didn’t also require G to live.”

Laughing aloud, the two monsters took turns making fun of the officials they had met that day until they were breathless.

 

“Stars--that was just a huge mess,” Undyne chuckled, fingers barely containing her large smile. “And that Starsdamned proximity to Hotland--shit man. I swear even that far away I was dying.” Shaking her head fondly, she sighed reminiscently.

“Don’t forget how you had to lug your hydrator around,” the skeleton added with a giggle, “If only the Doctor had enough funding to strategically place water coolers in all of the Underground.” Antennae twisting agitatedly, Undyne moaned.

“Don’t remind me. I swear if Alphys makes me one with a more efficient power supply I wouldn’t have to worry about toting it around in the first place.” Smiling, Papyrus strode toward her bed, and made an effort to flatten those wrinkles.

“There’s tea,” he mentioned, gesturing toward the tray with his chin. Almost immediately perking up, the partially clothed fish monster took wide strides over the garbage in her room to reach the cup.

Her gills wriggled excitedly at the smell. Lips parting, she turned toward her friend with a mix of relief and surprise.

 

“I thought I ran out,” she whispered gratefully. Papyrus beamed modestly.

“To enjoy something you love is a privilege,” he replied. Smiling to herself, Undyne stirred in some sugar and took a sip of her yellow flower tea.

“He hasn’t found time to make more,” she mused. “Wish he wasn’t so busy. Maybe then he can teach me to make it myself.” A comfortable quiet settled as Undyne drank her tea.

Crimson eyelights fixed distractedly on the carpeted floor as Papyrus herded his thoughts.

 

“He’s been keeping you busy, hasn’t he?” he clarified. Blowing steam off the surface of her drink, Undyne paused a moment.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” she muttered.

“Of course,” the skeleton scoffed lightheartedly, “what with your loyal companions Heineken and Corona at your side.” The fish monster shot him a daggered look, before sipping at her tea again.

“Remind me why you’re here again? Y’know, now that I’m not drunk outta my fucking mind.” Papyrus glared in return. If anyone could match his and Sans’s stubbornness it was Undyne. And he promised himself he wouldn’t allow her to redirect like that.

 

He had allowed the subject to drop once before, but this time he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of dodging the touchy subject. No, as her confidant and friend he will force her to face it.

“I’m glad you’re mostly back to your old self,” Papyrus said with a relieved smile. “That bath did you good. Maybe now you can tell me what happened this time.” Undyne glanced at him, annoyed but curious.

“Nah, you tell me,” she grinned. “I wanna see if your guess is close enough.” Rubbing his mental foramen, Papyrus shrugged.

“You had a quarrel with Alphys,” he began matter-of-factly, “or perhaps some altercation. That much I understand. But leading up to it...” He raised a bored brow ridge. “What did the old goat want this time?” Undyne frowned. Lower teeth jutted from her slight underbite.

 

“Show some respect,” she crossed her arms in warning. “That old goat’s our King.”

“Is it about the mines again?” he redirected, “about those little ones and that black gunk they keep coughing up?” Scowling, the fish monster turned away, and tiredly rubbed at her brow.

“No, not this time.”

“Is it about the air quality of the inhabited areas of both Hotland and the Capital?” Again, a quick headshake.

“The population crisis? The overcrowding?” Irritated, a snarl ripped through her teeth.

“It’s not fucking those!”

“Oh, so he’ll keep piling problems on you like the Humans do us?” The teacup met the tray with a forceful, but controlled clink.

 

“SHUT. UP!” Pointing an accusing finger, Undyne’s voice rose to a roar. “YOU KNOW FOR A FACT ASGORE’S GOT ENOUGH FUCKING PROBLEMS TO DEAL WITH.”

“IT DOESN’T EXCUSE HIM FROM USING YOU LIKE THAT,” he firmly assessed, controlled tone matching hers. “HE’S DRIVING YOUR STRESS LEVELS TO THE ROOF AND WE BOTH KNOW HE’S NOT EVEN THE BEST CANDIDATE--”

“DON’T YOU DARE--”

“TO FUCKING RULE!” Red eye glowering, Undyne stomped toward him. Stopping an arm’s length away, her eyes narrowed. Her teeth bared in a snarl.

 

“I can’t even begin to explain how fucking wrong you are, Bonehead,” she spoke, voice dangerously low. Like spitting poison at Papyrus’ face, she snapped her maw at him. “You don’t even know the first thing about him or about being King!”

“No,” he admitted, “but I understand enough that you could do better.”

Her brows creased with revulsion as she stepped back.

“What are you suggesting?”

 

“All I’m saying is that should the time ever come,” Papyrus refuted carefully, “your rule has the potential to be better.”

“Better?” she repeated, “Better?!” With a forced laugh, Undyne looked to her infuriatingly perceptive comrade. “How can I be both Captain of the Guard and Queen?!” she demanded. “I got enough on my plate as is!”

“At least then it’ll be the problems you put upon yourself. At least then you can redistribute the responsibility to others you trust.” Rising to meet her, Papyrus kept his eyelights trained on her as his hands gestured to himself. “You have me, Alphys, even Sans,” he continued. “Asgore,” he shook his head with clear disappointment. Staring unyieldingly into Undyne’s eyes, Papyrus spat out the next statement. “Asgore...he has no one but you. And he exploits it. Because the only other people he could count on want nothing to do with him whatsoever.” Lowering his head, the skeleton shook it with a sigh. “Perhaps they too, desired a change. They had known when to leave.” Tilting his head up to face Undyne again, Papyrus exhaled slowly. “Why don’t you?”

 

He didn’t miss the quiver in her lip as she fought to steady her tears.

“Because he needs me,” she answered. “No one else will do it. No one else will help him.” Reaching out to her friend, her voice quivered. “You’ve seen it--how much shit they put on him,” she reasoned. “You’re right, he doesn't have anyone but me because assholes like you refuse to give a fuck!” Resolutely, she straightened, her tone commanding and mostly back to her original self. “I will not. Abandon. My King.”

 

A silence hung as the two maintained unwavering eye contact.

“I hope he at least acknowledges how loyal and dutiful a successor you are,” he uttered. “Because if he doesn’t I will personally see to it.” Their faces inches apart, Undyne raised her chin to glower at her friend.

“I will not allow you to threaten him,” she forewarned, punctuating her words with controlled anger, a whispered rage.

“He’s the reason you do this to yourself,” Papyrus ratiocinated. “He is the catalyst that ignites your problem in the first place. And it’s unfair for you as well as your dear Doctor.”

“Don’t,” she sneered.

“She’s already involved as is, she’s the fucking Royal Scientist.”

“She didn’t need to know.”

“But she saw.” Jerking away, the fish monster covered her face. Sharp nails clawed at her head, her furling antennae.

 

“She never should have!” she yelled. “It’s my problem! It’s my responsibility. My burden. Not hers!”

“Undyne you can’t do everything alone,” Papyrus enunciated. “You need to take care of yourself. Look where’s it’s got you.” Picking up a stray bottle, he waved it near her. “I’m certain you’ve acquainted yourself with this Green-neck plenty of times.”

Sharp claws raked at her head as she yanked them downward. Snatching the bottle from his hand, Undyne chucked it into the wall. Green glass shards exploded. Glowering, magic smoked from beneath her skewed eyepatch.

“I DON’T NEED YOU TO TELL ME HOW TO LIVE!”

“You’re right,” Papyrus replied. “You should be having this talk with Asgore.”

 

Sweat beaded on her forehead as her pupil nearly slitted. The skeleton could hear the grind of her large teeth and her breath expel hotly. Even before she summoned her spear, he spotted the twist of her wrist and the unclenching of her hand.

Crimson bones materialized as she thrust her fully manifested weapon at him. Catching the spearhead between two smoking blades, Papyrus twisted the polearm away. Expelling a slow breath, he allowed himself time to analyze her.

The fact that he induced this meant she wouldn’t hold back. But she also wouldn’t think ahead.

 

Mouth curled and teeth bared, Undyne summoned spears beneath the skeleton. The lights of the summoning circles alerted the tall guard, and he stepped away, as spears sprang from the floor. Like a dance, Papyrus switched between dodging and blocking her attacks.

And even though he knew his best friend wouldn’t, he had to remind himself she may actually want to inflict real damage. He otherwise had no others means to truly protect himself.

Clearly frustrated, Undyne doubled her efforts. Summoning circles dotted her floor sporadically. Spears sailed around and over the lanky skeleton.

Out of anger, out of spite, her attacks would do nothing. So Papyrus egged her on.

“What’s the matter Captain?” he asked, “Can’t spear a hit?” Snarling, the Captain launched a giant lance in his direction. It shattered the window and plunged at full force into the rock face outside. The resounding echo shook the ground a moment to startle the skeleton. As he recovered, he turned and made a break for the kitchen. Heatedly, Undyne pursued him, a new spear materializing in her hand.

“Stars Damnit Papyrus,” she growled in frustration, “stop dodging and FIGHT ME!” Rounding the corner, her feet near-skidded as Undyne ran to catch up to him.

“And watch you cry as you lose?” he gasped mockingly over his shoulder, “NEVER!”

 

Carpet became tile as her feet positioned to pounce. Undyne dashed through the doorway and leaped toward the skeleton, spear in hand.

“NNNNGGGHHHHHH QUIT DANCING YOU FUCKING MORON!” Twin swords raking at the ground, Papyrus swung them upward, ready to meet her--when suddenly--

A flash of blue and red.

A jerk as their souls became encased forcefully in magic.

Red smoked from glaring sockets as Sans flung the two away from each other. Furiously he glowered at Papyrus only but a moment before Sans turned to face Undyne.

Glaring at the Captain, the usually snarky, infuriatingly efficient skeleton brother snarled defensively, red eyelights blazing.

“that’s enough,” Sans commanded. “now tell me what the fuck is going on.”

Chapter 6

Summary:

The Fell bros finally get to talk to Undyne about those goddamn Temmies.

It doesn't go according to plan.

Notes:

An update because I finally figured out what the fuck was wrong with how I was writing this HOLY JESUS.

I'll be sticking to shorter chapters now! 6-8 pages instead of my usual 10-12! Except I accidentally started writing more and now this chapter is actually almost 10 pages whoops! Less stress that way for me, more content in a more reasonable time for all of you! :D (And hopefully it won't be like, half a year before you get another update haha ^^;)

A quick debrief, and Sans was left shaking his head, distal phalanges digging into his furrowed brow ridge.

“look, whatever the fuck your problem is, you shouldn’t be taking it out on my. bro!”

“Oh hush Brother,” argued Papyrus dismissively, “I handled it accordingly.”

“no,” Sans bellowed, eyelights flaring. “instigating a fucking fight is not handling it!” he shot back, “clearly i was wrong to assume you’d discuss this like adults.” An inappropriately timed stifled chuckle had red eyelights honing in on the Captain. “and you.” Glaring daggers at Undyne, Sans seethed through rigid teeth to calm himself. “i don’t know what in the void you learned from asgore, but most higher ranking guards keep a level head. in and off the field.”

Her jagged teeth in a rigid line, Undyne looked away, almost embarrassed. “for fuck’s sake if i didn’t swear under you as a member of the guard, i'd say asgore picked ya outta nepotism.” Spitting out the next sentence, Undyne clenched her jaw at the biting words. “only the best fer his favorite little firecracker”

“You’re not helping,” Papyrus cut in, “she has enough to deal with as is.” Fuming, Sans jerked at the defense.

“now look here ya little smart-ass--”

“LEAVE HIM OUT OF THIS, OKAY?” Her fist met the table, and one side see-sawed upward at the impact. Antennae bristling, Undyne breathed unsteadily. “He was just trying to help--” she spat, so tired of all these emotional shenanigans, “--in his own fucking way.” Exhaling sharply, she pulled hairlike strands away from her face. “I just--I want to do everything myself,” she admitted. “Because if no one will step the fuck up, it HAS to be me!” Teeth gaping with surprise, the brothers stared at her. “It’s only ever me,” she confessed.

Seeing it not his place, Sans stood down as his brother rose.

“Undyne, you have us,” Papyrus answered, moving to place a hand on her shoulder. “We can accomplish more together! We can gain mutual respect and acknowledgement together! Have we not done so already? Do you not pride yourself in your achievements?”

“How can I when all it’s got me is an angry girlfriend and a drinking problem?” Frustrated tears welled in her eye as she gripped Papyrus’ shoulders. “I should be better,” she choked out. “I’m supposed to be better!” Ashamed of her tears, Undyne released him as she turned away. “But I’m not.” Long arms gently drew her near as thin hands wiped at her tears. “She may not even want to talk to me, Pap,” she sobbed, “Not after what I did to her friend!”

At the word friend, Sans’ eyelights shrank.

“you didn’t,” he breathed. Sensing the masked hostility, the fish monster turned further away from Sans.

“It. was an accident,” Undyne said carefully, stiffly. Taking a few deep breaths, Sans exhaled and found a chair to sit in. Covering his face with his hands, he muffled a long groan.

“stars damnit ‘dyne,” he hissed under his breath. “i can’t believe this.”

The pause that filled the room felt like the atmosphere itself was holding its breath.

“Sorry for disappointing you,” Undyne muttered, wiping a stray tear from her eye.

Uncovering his face, Sans gestured with stiff hands for emphasis.

“look, we got caught up in whatever the void threw our way. i get it--” gesticulating for emphasis, Sans continued, “undyne probably needs a therapist but clearly she only knows how to speak in fists, the king’s apparently a huge fuckwad who doesn’t have any friends--” At this, Undyne sneered and glared daggers at him. “--but there’s a time and place ta talk about it,” he finished. Eyeing Papyrus, Sans gestured with his skull. “i hate to cut this short, but we came here ta talk about those fucking creatures we found in the woods.” Eyelights now on the Captain, Sans continued. “did pap get even close to mentioning ‘em?” Brows knitting, Undyne turned to Papyrus.

“Hmph.” Wiping residual tears away with the heel of her palm, Undyne thought back a moment. “Not really.” Blinking, Papyrus cleared his throat as he released her.

“Yes, ah...outside Snowdin,” he began, straightening and crossing his arms across his chest, “along our patrol route we came across a set of tracks leading into the woods.” Brow creasing deeper, Undyne narrowed her eye at him.

“Go on,” she nodded, intrigued.

“Taking it upon myself,” Papyrus continued, “I boldly followed them!”

“ya mean stupidly, right?” Sans commented offhandedly. “i had ta chase him down y’know,” he said more to Undyne, “wasn’t too fun of a jog if ya ask me.”

“Wait, so you just ran in?” Undyne exclaimed with a start.

“It could have been a human!” Papyrus interjected.

“What, really?” Undyne whipped her head so fast she could have gotten a whiplash.

“but boss, didn’t ya have me confirm the tracks when i finally caught up with ya?” Papyrus grinned confidently as he replied,

“I THOUGHT it was a human!” At this, Undyne immediately deflated.

“preeetty sure humans don’t walk on all fours pap,” Sans remarked. In response, Papyrus flushed crimson.

“When did you think it appropriate to inform me of such?” he punctuated each word slowly. “Clearly you haven’t met a human either! None of us have seen a human!” With gloved hands like claws, Papyrus seemed very close to strangling Sans as the Captain smacked her forehead. Undyne expelled a loud WHAT before she stomped over to Papyrus. Grabbing him by the neck of his sweater, Undyne pushed him into the wall.

“Bonehead! What did I tell you about running into unknown territory?”

“Don’t go without a plan?” The look on her face smouldered.

“And WHAT DID YOU GO OUT AND DO?!”

“To investigate under the given circumstances was my only option,” he defended. “Had I waited until after the storm had passed, the trail would have gone cold!” At this, Sans snickered, and Papyrus glared at him.

“Ugh, if it wasn’t a human, then what was it?!” Undyne interrupted.

“turned out to be a temmie,” Sans stated, his left socket empty.

Brow furrowing, Undyne narrowed her eye at them as she released her hold on Papyrus.

“A Temmie,” she repeated, disbelieving, “outside Snowdin?”

“Correct,” Papyrus noted matter-of-factly, adjusting his sweater from under his armor. “A scout, to be exact. And it led others near our borders. They might have even infiltrated Snowdin had we not discovered them.” Distractedly running her fingers through her antennae, Undyne spoke slowly, contemplatively.

“That can’t be right,” she shook her head. “Temmies have no reason to be out that far, and even if they did, Alphys’ cameras would’ve caught ‘em.”

“It is quite possible that these Temmies never lived in the compound. They showed evidence of higher cognitive functions. Though more feral in nature, they exhibited the ability to tactfully maneuver, and attempted to ambush Sans and I.”

“boss, since when were you a fucking expert?” Sans commented, both eyelights fully displayed, “i thought ya hated them.”

Papyrus, too into his regaling recount to notice, raised his head slightly to face Undyne.

“Quite unlike our Temmies in Waterfall. For them to have evaded the Dear Doctor’s cameras is not, regrettably, implausible.” The fish monster scratched at her hairline and frowned. “It’s also possible the Dear Doctor chose not to set surveillance that far in. Why would she?” Papyrus continued, “No monsters regularly venture into the forest.”

“You saying she should?” she asked sarcastically, crossing her arms. “I mean, sighting Temmies outside Waterfall is weird but it’s not a big enough reason to set more cameras up.” Cocking her head, she continued. “Besides, did they even do anything?”

Puffing his chest, Papyrus furrowed his brow ridge.

“Why, of course! They attacked us! Hunted us even!”

“Okay, but did you like, aggravate them or something? Unless you like barged into the woods magic blazing they shouldn’t have been aggressive in the least,” she pointed out.

Sheepishly, Papyrus scratched at his vertebrae.

“I misread how many would await us,” he lamented. “Otherwise I would have addressed the situation differently.” Dumbfounded, Undyne stared at him, astonished.

“No wonder you keep requesting to station near your brother!” she gaped. “Are you this incompetent without him?!”

“hey at least he took control of it,” Sans chimed in. “saved me more than once.” Grinning at his brother, Sans sidled next to Undyne. “he took’em out pretty quick too.” Pushing Sans aside, Undyne huffed. Grinning, Sans found a chair and sat.

“That doesn’t change the fact that you provoked them in the first place,” she snapped. “If you barge into my house and start causing a ruckus, I’d try and kick you out too!” Exhaling exasperatedly, she dragged a hand down her face. “Look, Papyrus. You’re a cool dude and all, but running into Stars-Knows-Where like that and provoking displaced Temmies makes you the asshole--” the look on Papyrus’s face suggested a difference in opinion. “--Yeah, sure ya got attacked," she reasoned, "But ya shoulda left them alone at the first sign of trouble.”

Flabbergasted, Papyrus spluttered incoherently before gritting his teeth in a frown. Sighing, Undyne crossed her arms as she eyed her friend.

“I know you have a weird thing against them Pap, but even if these Temmies just happen to have sharper teeth than the ones in Waterfall, they can’t be that big of a threat. The ones you encountered were probably just as scared as you and acted on it. And if I’m right, they felt threatened when you both showed up out of nowhere and attacked them.”

“They attacked first.”

Gesturing tiredly, Undyne blinked, unamused.

“You can spin it however way y’want but I’m not gonna waste resources just because you made a dumb decision.” Sockets saucers, Papyrus stared dumbfoundedly as Sans fought to stifle his laughter. “So clearly you didn’t just leave them be,” Undyne stated with exasperation. “What did you do?” Clasping his hands nervously, crimson eyelights flitted between Undyne’s and the floor.

“We ah…I dusted them. In self defense,” he quickly added. Inhaling sharply, Undyne’s mouth became a line.

“What in the Void Papyrus,” she seethed disbelieving. “I didn’t think you’d be this dumb. Fuck.” Running hands down her face, Undyne groaned loudly and threw her head downward before slowly lifting it up again. “You could have called me instead of fucking exterminating them y’know.” Red dusted the entirety of his skull as Papyrus shouted.

“I HAD IT UNDER CONTROL! THOSE PESTS WERE NO MATCH FOR ME AND I DID NOT REQUIRE YOUR ASSISTANCE. I COULDN’T HAVE ANYWAY WERE YOU NOT DRUNK OUT OF YOUR MIND LAST NIGHT.” Taken aback by the cutting tone, Undyne snarled.

“DON’T GO CALLING ME OUT WHEN YOU HAVE NOTHING TO SAY,” she answered. “Get your fucking facts straight before you go spouting off insults.”

“Do You Mean The Temmies Or Yourself?” he enunciated.

“I mean both,” she replied carefully. “You’re my friend Papyrus, but you’re also my responsibility. When you go off hog wild, you endanger yourself and whoever’s with you.” At this, her gaze rested on Sans, before returning to Papyrus. “You’re the best we got and I can’t have you throwing yourself in danger like that. We can’t afford to be reckless with Monarch resources, let alone your very life.”

“I was merely regarding the safety of Snowdin!” Papyrus interjected.

“Over what?” she scoffed, “Temmies running rampant? Temmies murdering fellow monsters and stealing food from The Dump?” Having no answer, his teeth hung parted before clenching tightly.

“But what if they return?” Papyrus protested. “We must be prepared for retaliation!”

“Whatever the fuck happened yesterday happened,” she replied simply, “and we can’t change that. Displaced Temmies or a Human, you disobeyed orders by seeking them out in neutral territory.”

“Undyne--!!” he gasped offendedly.

“Just let it go Papyrus,” Undyne suggested icily. “If they come back and do serious damage I’ll acknowledge them as a problem. But for now, you two are prohibited from entering the woods further. I’ll have Doge close them off. Sans, you go confirm the location.”

Saluting with two phalanges against his brow bone, Sans grinned.

“aye aye cap.” Turning to her subordinate, Undyne clapped a hand on Papyrus’s pauldron covered shoulder. Her gaze lingered at the chestpiece before she regarded him.

“Papyrus, you’ll be with me this shift.”

Heatedly expelling a breath, he stiffened at the contact. As his Captain’s hand fell from the metal on his shoulder, Papyrus turned away.

“Understood,” he confirmed.

Her hand reached for her leg when Undyne realized she was still just wearing shorts.

“I left my phone in my room,” she said flatly. “Gimme a sec.”

“Take all the time you need,” Papyrus muttered. Rounding the corner, Undyne eyed him a moment before she stepped into the hall. Once she was gone, Papyrus analyzed his brother. His hand covered his mouth as if to hide a grin Sans was clearly terrible at concealing. “YOU THINK THIS IS FUNNY--” Papyrus accused.

“i think it’s hilarious--” Sans belted, “getting all chewed up by the captain and shit, ‘specially after that stunt you pulled with her?” Sans literally shook in the chair to contain his laughter. “that look on your face was priceless.”

“You don’t think I know what I’m doing when it comes to Undyne?” Papyrus huffed. “Sometimes fighting is the only way to get through to her.”

“yeah, like you can speak her language of fists better than an aaron.” Gasping in offense, the blush on Papyrus’s face deepened.

“AT LEAST I AM NOT A CONCEITED NARCISSIST!”

“eh, i dunno boss,” Sans sang. “you do take a while around the mirror sometimes.”

“WHOSE SIDE ARE YOU ON YOU PRICK?!”

“mine,” Sans cheekily grinned. “and boss lemme tell ya, i was worried fucking sick for almost nothing.” His smile lowered in a matter of seconds, and Sans turned hollowly so his gaze fixed on the table in front of him. The quiet that enveloped the two became chillingly unbearable as Papyrus bored into Sans’s skull with his eyelights. Gazing downcast, Sans shook his head. “i really thought it was worse than this,” he chuckled anxiously. Rubbing his sockets with his metacarpals, Sans exhaled exasperatedly. “when i got here, you both were already at it. i could hear ya clear past the welcome mat. and when she let loose that spear--” Sans whistled through his teeth and mimicked the sound of shattering glass. “--stars it got me bolting.” Rubbing his temple, Sans’ skull met the table with a gentle tap.

“We worried you,” Papyrus realized, tone soft. And with hushed regret, “I worried you.”

“look--bro,” Sans mumbled, “when ya ran off like that, i didn’t get a chance to tell ya to wait for me.” Turning, zygomatic process to the table, Sans looked to him, “you ain’t a babybones no more, but stars i can’t just let you go off by yourself when you don’t know what yer getting into.”

“Brother, with all due respect,” Papyrus countered, “I am just as capable as you. And one day there will come a time when we must face the world without each other.” Papyrus took a breath and exhaled slowly. “I can only hope to the Stars that should that ever happen, the interim would be short.” Sans nodded knowingly as he lifted his skull off the table.

“when you’re in over your dumbskull, where do ya think i’ll be?” Sans asked as he raised his shoulders slightly and slumped against the chair, “right next to ya--” he smiled, as his eyelights glowed, “--because that’s what bros do.”

And a genuine smile creased Papyrus’s teeth before he could stop it.

“We need to finish this quickly so we may return home,” he chuckled lightly. “I do not know how much longer I can wait.” Sniggering in response, Sans motioned for Papyrus to come closer.

When Papyrus did, Sans gently brushed a hand to his face and leaned forward.

Papyrus moved to close their distance as Sans’s teeth softly grazed the bone.

“i love ya bro,” he whispered. Teeth clanking against Papyrus’s, he chuckled. “next time ya do something dumb, at least try to warn me.” Papyrus laughed heartily.

“I promise,” he replied, as he slipped his materialized tongue between Sans's teeth. “I love you too.”

Sans felt the heat engulf his zygomatic processes before he could stop it, and without hesitation, he tilted his head into his brother’s kiss. Their tongues met as they licked at each other’s teeth. Sockets half-lidded, Sans leaned into Papyrus’ advances, enthusiasm building with each pass of his slippery, crimson ecto-appendage.

Remembering where they were, Sans’ sockets widened in realization. “boss…boss,” he gasped, reluctantly holding himself back, “u-undyne--” Suddenly, Papyrus’ tongue shoved deeper into his mouth and Sans found himself whimpering, wanting-- And Papyrus released him with a mischievous purr.

“Excited?” It took most of Sans’ self-control to suppress a loud whine.

“what happened ta...when we got home?” he stumbled to speak coherently. Shit, the one time Sans wished Papyrus couldn’t get him so worked up so easily.

“Oh please,” Papyrus hummed into Sans’ neck, “I can’t indulge my brother after he dispelled our fight in such a heroic way? Besides, a friendly teasing can’t compare to what I plan to do to you later.” His crimson tongue descended Sans’ cervical vertebrae, and with a soft whimper Sans gave in.

---

It wasn’t until they heard loud stomping did the two reluctantly scramble to untangle themselves.

“Alright Boneheads, listen up!” Undyne commanded, now clothed in pants and a tank top. “Alphys is gonna need ya both ta--” Her eye widened with surprise when she walked in on their compromising position. Disgusted, Undyne turned away with a jerk. “Stars Damnit you guys! Go do your weird thing somewhere else!” Embarrassed, but more than willing to make her more uncomfortable, Sans reached for her invitingly.

“by all means, ‘dyne, come right in,” he teased. “we could use another hand.”

“AS IF YOU COULD CAJOLE ME INTO YOUR DEBAUCHERY,” she yelled. Irritatedly exhaling, Undyne chanced a glance at Papyrus, who was equally red as well. “I swear,” she hissed, “you guys do that at the worst times!”

“Look, I’ll take responsibility for this,” Papyrus offered. And with an otherwise unscathed grin, “Now, before we so rudely interrupted--”

Rubbing at her eye as if to cleanse her vision, Undyne frowned and huffed.

“Look, just get off each other and let’s head out,” she motioned for Papyrus to follow. “I don’t wanna keep her waiting.” Chuckling, he lifted himself off Sans, making sure to catch his still-smoking eyelights.

“After you, Dear Captain,” he bowed. Rolling her eye, Undyne opened the door and the two filed on out.

Staring where they once stood, Sans clutched at his sternum, where his soul glowed erratically bright.

“damnit bro,” he hissed, as a faint glow emanated from beneath the fabric of his shorts, “why’d ya gotta be so cruel.”

Chapter 7

Summary:

We’re out of Undyne’s house and ready to get the heck back into Snowdin! But before that, we meet a loud and obnoxious someone, Papyrus reminisces, and more important talks ensue.

Notes:

Okay, so hear me out. Alphys in most stories doesn't get much credit for y'know building things like the Core (though it's implied Sans may have worked on the blueprints in the game,) so she gets that along with some other accomplishments! Because she deserves recognition! She's literally a ball of nervous energy and stress, and you never seem to see her outside her lab unless Undyne, or some Royal Emergency is involved.

 

(I know in the game her original purpose was for one project that branched into two experiments (the Amalgates/Flowey), but this Alphys takes up multiple s for a specific reason. ;))

 

Anyway Undyne, like the closeted dork she is, gets to gush about her second best friend. Because she's proud of her! Like look--lemme show you how cool my other friend is! BE IMPRESSED!! (Papyrus finds it endearing.)

Also! Madds. Oh Madds. You weren't here originally. But you are now.

They weren’t even halfway out the door when a voice boomed from the side of the house.

 

“HEY BOSS! I’VE NEEDA WORD WID YA!”

 

Papyrus about jumped at the title, but the voice didn’t belong to Sans. Confused, he eyed Undyne. Rolling her eye, she didn’t even try to hide her growing frown.

“Ugh. Waddya want, Madds?” As if she didn’t have any more to deal with today. Curious, Papyrus glanced their way too.

 

“OH, ISN’T IT OBVIOUS BY THE LOOK ON MY FUCKING FACE?”

 

Papyrus’ sockets widened. The whole left side of their face was nearly ripped off. Had they been a fleshier monster, their injuries would be the equivalent of deep contusions to their their cheek and snout. Stuffing leaked down their grievous injury, no doubt thanks to their placement when Undyne’s loose spear broke through the window. Had they fused with their exterior, they would have dusted from the trauma alone.

 

The working side of their face contorted in a fuming mess of fabric and magic, spitting out stuffing like saliva. Unfazed, Undyne sighed.

 

“What makes this any different from those other times I pay ta beat you up?” Their free-hanging jaw flopped about uncomfortably, making Papyrus turn away. For a monster without a stomach, to watch their mouth move like that was equally fascinating as it was off-putting.

 

“WELL FOR STARTERS-- ” they slurred, “ I WASSON MY SCHEDULED BREAK! MEANING--” the dummy gestured with a flopping head for emphasis and Undyne tilted her head back exasperatedly.

 

“You hadn’t shielded yourself,” she finished.

 

“EXACTLY.”

 

“Was your soul out?”

 

“WHY INTHA FUCK WOULDIT BE OUT.” Going at it a different angle, Undyne asked flatly,

 

“What’s the problem.”

 

“AN OFF-DUTY BEATING IS THE PROBLEM. I AIN’T BATTLE-READY ALL THE FUCKING TIME, BOSS. MY SCHEDULED BREAKS ARE HOURS LONG FER A GOOD FUCKING REASON AN’ SINCE THIS ISS’N UNWARRANTED BREACH IN OUR OTHERWISE SOLID CONTRACT, I REQUEST THAT MY FUCKING FACE BE REPAIRED! ”

 

Undyne growled, her shoulders drooping at the addition to her already busy schedule.

 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll get Tuffet in for a house call,” she gestured impatiently. “Stars, I swear by now you must be her favorite client.”

 

“IT’S CUZZA MY PERSONALITY! ” they smugly shouted.

 

“Uh huh. Yer a real smooth-talker. A fucking peach.”

 

The dummy seemed to straighten proudly at the otherwise insulting comment.

 

“PLEASURE WORKING WID YA UNDYNE.”

 

“That’s Boss ta you, buddy.”

 

The dummy belted a hollering, grating cacophony of a laugh, spewing more cotton everywhere.

 

“HAVE A GOOD FUCKING DAY, BOSS!”

 

Undyne rounded the corner, out of view and Papyrus followed.

 

“They’re quite the vulgar type,” Papyrus commented.

 

“No worst than you and Sans,” Undyne gruffed, pulling out her phone to call the refurbisher. Since not all monsters chose fleshy forms, those that used fabric exteriors to house their more vulnerable ghost forms needed a means to repair them as necessary. Though most made do with self-repair, the most preferred method was calling a refurbisher from Hassocks. Busy as Undyne was, she spent a lot of her time on the phone scheduling their next fix-up. Lucky for her, the owner was the willing and discreet sort. “Yeah, may I speak to your manager? Tell her it’s Undyne. I need a house call. Uh huh. Mmhm. Yeah, tell her it’s an urgent matter. No, it has to be her. Thank you.”

 

Papyrus listened to the sound of chittering before stepping back to give Undyne space.

 

That particular dummy had been under her employ long enough to be invested in their career as Undyne’s Personal Punching Bag. Though, seeing as how they also didn’t have to worry about expenses like food, or shelter, the job had very good perks considering how zealous Undyne could be. Her exuberant usage of their services did mean paying for repairs to their corporeal form whenever necessary. After all, a sapient dummy was still a monster in their own right.

 

“--yeah uh, they’re not gonna sue. I mean, they haven’t fused with their exterior yet. It’s not like I intentionally ripped their face off while they was off-duty, nooope!” Pausing, Undyne idly tapped her foot. “Uh huh. Drop by when you’re next available. Y’know how impatient Madds can get.” Presumably an eruption of giggles rang from the line because Undyne chuckled as well. “Yeah, I’ll set up the G transfer once I’m done with some personal business. Yeah. Thanks, I’ll call you back.”

 

Undyne delicately pocketed her phone before exhaling heatedly through her mouth and punching successfully through a head-sized rock.

 

Just like Undyne to always have enough energy to add to the multitudes of sharp pebbles littering the ground.

 

Waiting for Undyne to finish mumbling obscenities under her breath, Papyrus dared to peek around the corner. The dummy, Madds, had hopped to the spot of the rock face where Undyne’s lance left a large indent after it dematerialized, leaving a haphazard trail of cotton filling in their wake. Papyrus squinted at them, unsure of their intentions. It was easy to forget about their presence, for whenever he visited Undyne they were more nondescript. He hadn’t witnessed them express their displeasure like that before.

 

Despite how many injuries they’ve retained since Undyne hired them, they seemed satisfied in their overall position. Perhaps they knew no other dummies available would dare vie for their position. Perhaps despite their attitude, they actual got along well with Undyne. Madds was, well, thoroughly disliked by most who happened to cross them, so...perhaps they preferred the stability Undyne offered them.

 

Wary, Papyrus returned to Undyne. She seemed more approachable now, and Papyrus was pleased his little stunt with Sans was temporarily forgotten.

 

“What will happen to our patrol route until the matter is settled?” Papyrus asked, noting Undyne’s distracted, yet more relaxed demeanor.

 

“Oh…” she paused to recall her initial plan, “y’know, since it’ll be fenced off, if a Human comes by they’ll just be stuck,” Undyne finished. “Shouldn’t be a huge problem,” she continued, tying her hair-tendrils back with an elastic tie. “I’ll have Alphys monitor the entrance of the barricade, that way we can keep track of any activity for the next couple days.” Papyrus’ neck about snapped.

 

“How long now? ” Thinking about it, Undyne cocked her head as she counted on her fingers.

 

“It’d only be a few days to a week depending on what can be collected from the skirmish. Besides, stuff like this doesn’t just happen.” At his exasperated look, Undyne attempted to quell him. “Look, it won’t be so bad--”

 

“Undyne, I can’t--”

 

“--Papyrus listen. I’m tryna think of Snowdin’s best. My best. You’ve both proven to be dedicated to the positions, though, you more so than Sans, but you both are an essential part of the team. And even if you both came out with only bruises, an attack like that can still be damaging.” She tapped at her temple as if suggesting something mental.

 

“What are you suggesting instead?” he scoffed, “That we take therapy?” Her hand immediately dropped.

 

“I thought I’d give you both a chance away from action for a while. Y’know, like spend some time with Gerson. Or like…” in a more begrudging tone, “each other.” Her tone then more chipper, Undyne nudged him. “A busy guy like you could use a vacation yeah?” Rolling his eyelights, Papyrus scoffed.

 

“All the better,” he derided, crossing his arms, “What other responsibilities have I besides my job?”

 

As they walked past Gerson’s shop, Papyrus caught himself eyeing it. Perhaps, if the old turtle wasn’t too busy and Papyrus had a little time to spare…

 

It had been almost a year since he and Sans were relocated to Snowdin. The only real time he had spoken to their guardian was during shopping trips. But their most recent encounters have been reduced to mere pleasantries; small exchanges over the counter, a question shouted across the room while Papyrus rummaged through that day’s stock. Nothing solid like a sit-down conversation over pie or sea tea (which he only drank to be polite,) nothing like spending hours hunting down crab-apples for their next sweet concoction. Not like poring over the old manuscripts in his storeroom-turned-bedroom.

 

Not since they soon towered over the shelled monster. Not since their new stationing. Reflectively, Papyrus mulled the thought over as the two came to the Riverperson’s Waterfall anchor point. Reverie now over, Papyrus noticed their absence and cursed at this inconvenience.

 

“Got somewhere ta be?” Undyne teased. Rolling his eyelights exasperatedly, Papyrus snorted.

 

“Gee, I wonder what you could possibly have in mind,” he answered haughtily.

 

“C’mon Bonehead,” she snickered. “If we run into them on the way, you’ll get your ride back to Snowdin.” Squinting, Papyrus frowned. He did want to get this over with…

 

“Very well,” he allowed. Straightening to his full height, Papyrus tossed his head back proudly. Was it really that obvious that he wanted to be with Sans? Or was Undyne messing with him?

 

“Look,” she sighed fondly, as they returned to their walk, “I get it. There’s no helping wanting to get even, even though it was totally your fault it happened in the first place.” Wait… And before he could register the blush encroaching his zygomatics, Undyne grinned widely as she smacked Papyrus across the spine. Stumbling, Papyrus barely caught himself before he launched forward.

 

“Hey!” he voiced loudly, “you’re going to dent my armor!” Guffawing, Undyne slapped her knee and firmly put a hand on his pauldron.  

 

“Armor’s supposed to dent, Bonehead!” she laughed, “Means it’s doing its job.” Nasal ridge wrinkled in disgust, Papyrus leaned away from her until her laughter diminished. With a small smile, Undyne continued. “Anyway, I’m not stopping you from going back there so long as you steer clear from the trees, alright?” Ah, so that was what she meant. Inwardly, Papyrus expelled a sigh of relief. “You never mentioned if there was more out there. Better safe than sorry y’know?” Thinking a moment, Undyne beamed, “If you wanna make it worth your while, you can always create another puzzle,” she nudged him knowingly. “Adds more zazz to whatever else you’d be doing, yeah?” Fully recovered from Undyne’s jostling, Papyrus shrugged.

 

“On my own volition,” he muttered.

 

Water sloshed beneath their boots as they carried onward. Up ahead, the glow of the native mushrooms greeted them as they lit the path forward. Unlike Hotland’s puzzles, Papyrus confidently knew the inner workings of this path. He and Sans explored the dark paths as babybones after Gerson took them in. After it became apparent then, that though the other monsters and their surroundings became unpredictable, the brothers always had Gerson’s protection.

 

It became almost a game to try and learn the path before the purple crystals cycled between glowing and dimming. The staked lanterns could very well be for show in Papyrus’ opinion. He could pick out a visitor of Waterfall by the looks on their faces when the crystalline lights dimmed. After all, true locals didn’t need them.

 

At the sound of a trickling stream, the two leaped over the standing water and continued through the pathway. Echo Flowers grew in sporadic clusters about this area since no one bothered to tend to them, catching every few murmured sentences from commuters brave enough to venture this far. They made for a good distraction should any monster need. If the present opportunity allowed it, that is. Undyne seemed to be as wary of them as Papyrus, and for that he was thankful.

 

Upon reaching the bridge Undyne claimed as her Human-fighting spot, Papyrus coughed.

 

“Where exactly are we going?” he inquired incredulously.

 

“Hotland, where else?” Undyne replied.

 

“You know I hate Hotland,” Papyrus exclaimed.

 

“Where didja think we were going?” Undyne poked fun at him. “Sucks the Riverperson was busy,” she shrugged playfully, “Oh well.” Papyrus sighed his biggest, most haughty sigh.

 

“Does dragging me through their starsdamned conveyor belts and spring-loaded buttons count as Capital punishment?” he queried sarcastically. (Damn, Sans would have been proud of that one.)

 

“Only if you let it be,” she grinned.

 

“Ugh. I’d rather hire a Harpy to fly me there.”

 

“I mean, if you’re sure about it. I hear they make for more than an escort,” she nudged him as she waggled her brows.

 

“Um, no thanks,” Papyrus chuckled as he pushed her away by her face.  

 

“Hey, don’t be such a wet blanket,” Undyne teased, slapping his hand away. “The sooner we get to the lab, the sooner you can leave Hotland.”

 

“Why is it important that I be present?” he asked, brushing away the swat as if it were a fly, “Am I to regale the Dear Doctor with my recount of the events in the forest? Or are we to debate the ineptitude of the supposed ‘engineers’ that construct and maintain the puzzles situated around her base of operations?” Groaning loudly, Undyne threw her hands in the air.

 

“Stars, what the fuck dude, it’s not like we’re gonna waltz through Hotland, Dumbass! Alphys’ lab comes before all the puzzles!”

 

Blinking, Papyrus’s frown became more of an ironic pout.

 

“And here I was, about to make you regret ever taking me the long way,” he harrumphed. Undyne caught his eyelight with a look of disbelief.

 

“Even if I did drag you through Hotland, it’s just a few puzzles! I’d even solve them for you!” Stomping his foot, Papyrus’s skull whirled with a snap.

 

“It’s not the puzzles that I abhor, but the principle behind them!” he argued, gesticulating sharply for emphasis. “Rarely are they repaired in a meaningful way besides the usual! There’s no drive, no EXCITEMENT! Conveyor belts and steam-powered buttons and are so mainstream there! You can’t feel the PASSION of the engineer! Only menial work that results in a menial output!”

 

“I betcha you felt more sick than anything, ya pansy!” Undyne retorted. Gasping loudly in offense, Papyrus threw a hand near his teeth.

 

“I only got sick that ONE TIME AND YOU KNOW IT!”

 

“Yeah ,” Undyne scoffed, “but that one time became your only time.”

 

“Obviously it was one time too many!” Sighing exasperatedly, Undyne’s fingers curled like claws.

 

“UGH remind me to never take you through the scenic route if you’re gonna be a huge baby about it.”

 

“Says the aqueous being who watches cartoons for small children ,” he joshed.

 

“Hey,” she shot back, “Those are relics of ancient Human history! Besides, you should watch’em some time. Might give ya some ideas,” she added, teeth a crooked grin.

 

“I would rather not,” Papyrus concluded. “But in all seriousness though,” he queried, “Will bringing me along to a personal meeting with the Doctor change anything?”

 

Looking away, Undyne’s pace slowed. Following suite, Papyrus eyed her curiously as they eventually came to a halt. Undyne’s brow quirked in a soft furrow as she briefly glanced back at him.

 

“I thought maybe...you could help,” she confessed quietly, her lips tight over her jagged teeth.

 

Taken aback, Papyrus blinked.

 

“Whatever your quarrel, it’s none of my business,” he stated simply. “Regardless, I am certain she will listen to what you have to say. You know her better than I after all.”

 

A short silence and a pitiful laugh hissed passed Undyne’s teeth.

 

“Says the guy who has a better standing relationship than I do.” Papyrus’s brow ridges furrowed.

 

“Are you both not…?”

 

“I uh...haven’t tried. Yet.” Teeth set in a line, Papyrus crouched down and sat. Motioning for her to do so as well, Undyne followed suite. They sat quietly before Papyrus broke the silence.

 

“Tell me about her.” A beat and a wide, sheepish grin encompassed Undyne’s face as she looked away.

 

“Alphys is amazing,” she gushed, “not everyone gives her credit for all her accomplishments--I mean, she’s done so much for the Underground, it’s easy to forget it was through mainly her efforts and ideas we were able to get where we are.” Scratching at the back of her neck, Undyne sighed wistfully. “Y’know she’s responsible for organizing the wiring setup to get electricity all over the Underground after the Core was built?”

 

Papyrus nodded, remembering the time before their settling in Snowdin when the main source of light was from the bioluminescent crystals imported from Waterfall. The lanterns were quite finicky and deemed inefficient by the majority of Snowdin’s populous, much to the chagrin of Waterfall's. After they phased out of popularity, and the artificial lights came in, no one bothered using lanterns outside of Waterfall anymore. Perhaps it was out of spite, or perhaps because seeing wires lining the cave walls took from the generally peaceful, if but foreboding atmosphere.

 

Papyrus thought it quite silly that the Snowdin residents didn’t appreciate the craftsmanship of even the lanterns’ framework, but if it was due to maintaining aesthetics, he definitely saw why.

 

For the Dear Doctor to have organized all that though...

 

“--and she reverse-engineered and manages the phone system and troubleshoots the Undernet?--” at this Papyrus’ sockets widened with disbelief, “--I mean, she works with the Royal Engineering Department to lessen her overall workload, but man--” Undyne chuckled nervously, “--with how much she ends up doing, it’s a miracle we get to hang out at all.”

 

Papyrus sneered at their mention. Royal Engineering Department his ass, he knew his far superior puzzles trumped whatever junk they came up with. The Royal Engineering Department unfortunately utilized the recycling of four types of puzzles: “a variation on a slide method,” or “a maze using buttons and steam powered energy to catapult the user to the other side,” if not a "find your way through this disorganized mess of conveyor belts (ALL GOING AT TOP SPEED IN DIFFERENT DIRECTIONS) maze,” or some kind of “locate these objects hidden in plain (though limited range of) sight” kind of puzzle.

 

Truly, if Papyrus wasn’t dead set on apprenticing under Undyne, he’d have tried for a position in the RED. At least then, maybe there would be more creative approaches to puzzling.

 

“So she’s a bit like you,” Papyrus concluded, saving that topic for another time.

 

“Hm?”

 

“Despite your workload, you make time for each other,” Papyrus smiled in relief. “That’s good.”

 

“Well yeah,” Undyne scoffed playfully. “It’s not like I’m Captain 24/7.”

 

“But you are!” he laughed aloud.

 

“Still --” she pressed, “Alphys, she just...she holes herself up a lot in her lab. And I know she has work to do. I mean, why else d’ya think she only comes out once an eon? She’s like, the definition of hardworking.” Chuckling to herself, Undyne looked down a moment. “But every time I come over, Alphys drops what she’s doing to watch anime with me,” she smiled fondly. “She’s also got blueprints drafted for me so I could forge my own historic weapons! And...and she constructed this machine, right? That makes this slushy pink stuff that she loves. Oh! And her friend--!” At this, the smile on Undyne’s face fell. “I...I never told you what happened huh?”

 

“That is unnecessary,” Papyrus insisted, disappointed that she interrupt herself. It was rare to see Undyne praise someone so thoroughly. The Royal Scientist must indeed be a very respectable individual.

 

“No, I really should,” Undyne urged. “From what I remember, I was a big fuck-up. It never should have happened.” Sitting on the ground, she took a breath. “So I was pretty wasted, right?”

 

“I’m going to stop you right there, Undyne,” Papyrus interrupted. “If I recall correctly, yes you very much were. But I do not need to hear you explain yourself when it is clear it was an accident brought about by inebriated decision-making.”

 

Brows knitting, Undyne opened her mouth to protest.

 

“And what do you know about getting drunk Mr. Can't-Handle-His-Alcohol?”

 

“I understand enough that too much is too. Much,” he scoffed. “You get very quiet when you’ve exceeded your limit,” Papyrus recounted. “And you get very reflective in a murdery way. I swear you create the most intricate plans to dust someone best when you’ve reached that threshold. Whether you act upon them or not is the real question.”

 

Embarrassed at this analyzation, Undyne’s face took on a more green tone.

 

“But seeing as how all this work and responsibility gets dumped on you all the time, I wouldn’t be surprised of your initial desire to at all.”

 

“Papyrus I didn’t ask you to psychoanalyze me,” Undyne protested. “Sure, I’m stressed all the time, but I can handle it.”

 

Cutting her off, Papyrus gave her a look dripping with disgust.

 

“Please, DO elaborate on how ‘handling it’ involves copious amounts of depressive substances,” he replied contemptuously. “Do go on explaining how well you cope with stressors when all it does is increase your dosage. ” Wrinkling his nasal ridge, Papyrus spat, “Clearly the fact that alcohol is involved in the first place shows that you haven’t been able to ‘handle it’ since it began!”

 

If Undyne thought she was ready to hear that from her best friend, she was wrong. Immediately latching onto her anger, Undyne punched at the nearest wall of rocks instead.

 

“IF YOU KNOW SO MUCH ABOUT ME THEN TELL ME,” she challenged. And with a sob, “Tell me why I’m such a coward.” Gasping at this reveal, Papyrus gaped.

 

“Undyne you’re not--”

 

“Tell me why I do this to myself over and over again,” she demanded. Tears rolled from her eye as her voice came out a whisper. “Tell me what I did to deserve this.”

 

Papyrus did not expect this. Her lashing out, yes. But tears? And outside the safety of her home? The Great and Terrible Papyrus was prepared for almost everything! Scanning their surroundings with a deft eye, Papyrus inched closer.

 

The last thing they needed was an unnecessary scandal.

 

Reaching for her, Papyrus put a hand on her shoulder. With a hushed voice, he squeezed her just a bit.

 

“Undyne.” Drawing them away to a more private corner of the bridge, Papyrus continued. “I can’t tell you why,” he confessed, “only that since you began, your past decisions have led to this. You have reached a convergence, and it is up to you to decide where you will go.” Sniffling, Undyne covered her face with her hands, shaking her head despairingly as Papyrus released her.

 

“I don’t know what to do,” she whispered. Papyrus offset his jaw in a gesture of contemplation as he neared her.

 

“I can only do so much, Undyne. I can tell you that you need to change, but only you can truly make it happen.” They were close enough that Undyne grabbed hold of his pauldron-less shoulder and sobbed into it.

 

“I must be such a wreck compared to her! If I can’t do this, Alphys is better off finding someone else. How could she stand me after what I did? Friends don’t break their friends’ faces!”

 

“Whatever they did I’m sure they deserved it,” Papyrus brushed her comment away, “besides you don’t know that,” he argued. “Alphys has her own thoughts and opinions separate from the conclusions you perceive. Who is to say that she feels the same way?”

 

Smiling sadly, Undyne stared down at the lava flow beneath them.

 

“Since when did you know so much about relationships?”

 

“I may not be the best monster for this kind of advice,” Papyrus admitted, “as I am still learning--but I do my best.” Chuckling sheepishly, Undyne scratched at her gill.

 

“With how exclusive y’both are, it seems like you have it made.”

 

“Oh no, definitely not! You see, Sans can be very annoying and admittedly quite lazy on occasion. We have our quarrels, but we do not let matters between us go unfinished. Cooperation is a two-way street and if one of us is unwilling to yield, the matter will remain unsettled, resulting in dissatisfaction for both parties.”

 

Considering how little time Undyne and the Doctor actually had for serious conversation, it was imperative that they establish a firm foundation in communication before taking their relationship to the next step. At least, from what he gathered skimming Sans’ underutilized Dating Manual, it made sense, overall to do so.

 

“And I understand that to show her your Soul would mean expressing vulnerability, but in this case it is necessary.”

 

“...Have you shown Sans yours?” she asked quietly.

 

“Each and every time.” Papyrus hid a small, wistful smile with a smirk. “I trust him with it, as I trust you with my life when we spar. Your decision to meet with her is already a step in the right direction. And I find it unnecessary to coach you through what you may already want to do.”

 

She had a plan; it was evident in how she curled into herself as they continued discussing it, how her tone quieted, and questioned sincerely. Papyrus didn’t wish to inflict doubt on her decision. The least he could do was encourage her.

 

“But I will tell you this. In your current standing, you both may not be ready,” he advised, “but it’s not impossible.” Putting a hand on Undyne’s bare shoulder, the two made eye contact. “As you understand, it will be difficult. But you will have us with you. And when you find yourself struggling, and at a point where you want to give up, remember one thing.” Crimson eyelights glowed momentarily as they nearly bored into Undyne’s single eye.

 

“Do it for her, because she is more important in the end.”

 

Wiping a rogue tear from her eye, Undyne covered her mouth with a hand thoughtfully.

 

“Y’know, Bonehead?” she chuckled bitterly, an anxious smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, “I’m glad I brought you with. Thank you.” Papyrus smiled.

 

“The Great and Terrible Papyrus believes in you.” Hugging him tight like a vice, Undyne released him with a slight throw.

 

“Now get outta here,” she grinned confidently. “I’ve got an apology to give! And a lady to woo.” Papyrus blinked as if remembering something.

 

“But--what about--”

 

“I only said for this shift,” Undyne laughed. “Annnndd iittttt’ssss--” checking her wrist, she beamed, “--already over.” Taking a leaping start, Undyne called back from over her shoulder. “Better get started on that puzzle, Bonehead!”

 

Stunned, Papyrus watched her disappear into the tunnel connecting Waterfall to Hotland. Scratching his cervical vertebrae, he turned back around.

 

“Guess I’m taking the long way home.”

 

No way was he stepping foot in that dastardly place when he had two perfectly good legs. Besides, he had other matters to attend to. While he was out, he might as well get some shopping done.

Chapter 8

Summary:

Sans returns to the forest with Doge. His anxiety rears its ugly head.

Notes:

If finding Temmies in Snowdin was weird enough, this whole ordeal is just about to get weirder.

I'm quite excited to add Doge in the list of side characters! She's got so much potential it hurts! X)

Sans had to admit ganging up on Papyrus was hilarious, but Stars the moment he stepped back near Snowdin, he knew he wasn’t ready to go back to the forest. He could literally feel the grit of dust when the Temmie had careened into him. Shivering, Sans shoved his hands in his pockets as he followed the female guard to the area they were attacked.

 

Doge (or was it Dohj?), unlike the other dogs and Sans, didn’t have a permanent station. She was one of the few that actually patrolled throughout the entirety of Snowdin, which made her position less stable than the other Guards. Despite this, she carried herself straighter than most monsters, so she always seemed more...put together. Her signature spear glowed gold at her side as she marched forward through the snow.

 

If she was feeling a little antsy, Sans wouldn’t blame her. Attacks by armed monsters were different from what could be seen as feral animals, if they happened at all. This case was a strange one in itself, and Sans was glad their meeting with the Captain ended well enough. (Despite, a certain dilemma that is.)

 

The whole confrontation thing pissed him off, but Undyne was ultimately in the right. Who was Sans to tell his brother off when all three of them were definitely more a stubborn ass than the other? Trudging slightly behind the spear-wielding dog, Sans pointed at the opening in the woods.

 

“there,” he shrugged dismissively, eyeing the broken branches littering the ground. “can we go now?” Doge shook her head, ears flopping slightly in the air.

 

“Undyne said to confirm the location, but that means all areas included.” Groaning, Sans complied.

 

“fine. but it ain’t like they’re going anywhere.” Doge pointed her snout to their surroundings.

 

“Show me.” Sans’ brow knitted.

 

“find’em yerself,” he frowned. “undyne said i wasn’t allowed in the trees.” She responded with a hum.

 

“Then it is most unfortunate that this attack occurred in them now,” Doge replied. “How am I to close them off if I am without a witness?” Blinking, Sans stared, teeth slightly agape before his frown deepened.

 

It wasn’t like Undyne didn’t trust Doge to do it herself; official (or even under-the-table) dealings with the Guard required another set of eyes. It protected the Guard-on-duty from retaliation, if needed, as well as stabilized evidence or an alibi. But to go against a direct order…

 

Sans briefly wagered outright refusing, but it wasn’t like Doge would know what they were looking for. There was no written report, and Undyne couldn’t count it against him if he only ventured where they were designated and no further. Conceding, Sans’ sockets narrowed.

 

“fine. but if undyne gets wind of me ‘disobeying orders,’ it’s on you.” If he knew the Captain, a minor redirection wouldn’t harm anyone. Besides, how else would their specialized obstructor know exactly where to set up her barricade? Taking the lead, Sans led her into the forest. Keeping a careful eye on the footprints, Doge bent low to sniff the snow beneath them. Sans eyed her a moment as she shifted next to him. “boss and i got separated for a bit but i was able to catch up to him,” he recalled as she rose.

 

“I see,” she sneezed. Brushing her nose with her free paw, Doge shook her head. “Shall I then?” Sans backed away a bit.

 

“by all means,” he bowed only slightly derisively.

 

Now leading the way, Doge shifted between prints, following the near-haphazard trail of a desperate skeleton. Then, halting, she kneeled over a disparaging amount of tracks over tracks. This was where Boss had him examine those pawprints to identify the scout. Sans followed suit, crouching near but away from the evidence.

 

“What did you two do here?” she asked calmly. Sans expelled a breath and scratched at his cervical vertebrae.

 

“boss and i,” he began, “heard’em running up yeah? so we figured we’d be prepared. boss summoned a bone and when they came within the vicinity, he uh...” Scratching the side of his skull, Sans frowned uneasily. “one of them leaped at him and he dusted it.” Doge’s stare followed the disorderly trail of prints embedding the snow. “then, we’re surrounded and they’re coming at us.” Taking a moment to steady his breathing, Sans’s eyelights gazed where Doge’s fell. “it all happened so fast. i...i didn’t think there’d be so many but--”

 

“Do you remember approximately how many there were?” Sans blinked, and briefly his eyelights met Doge’s before they flitted to the trees, to the chaos of foot and pawprints.

 

“a dozen?” he wagered, “i uh...know it was less than 20,” he affirmed, trying not to remember the feel of dust all over his summoned bones, or the visceral ripping of flesh as his attacks tore them to powder. “sorry,” he grinned, his reignited eyelights slightly brighter than normal, “precision counting ain’t exactly my strong suit.”

 

Nodding, the female guard rose. Pointing at the ground in front of them with her spear, Doge gestured in a circular motion.

 

“These are all defensive stances.” Pointing to the tracks collected near the trees, she added, “As are these. Thus, they only attacked because the tall one did.” Inhaling slowly, Sans’s shoulders fell tiredly as he exhaled.

 

“yeah uh...i’m not too sure what boss was thinking. honestly i think he was more worried about our safety at that point.” Doge briefly glanced at him before returning to the path.

 

“You both ran.” Sans nodded.

 

“at this point i think he mighta felt like he had to follow through,” he admitted. “if he saw anything in them, it was threatening enough that he didn’t want’em getting out alive.” Doge eyed him with consideration.

 

“I will need to see this area as well.”

 

“you’d find it better than me,” Sans chuckled.

 

“Very well.” Same as before, Doge picked up the path. When they arrived, Sans noticed how very lonely it seemed all the way out here. How empty it appeared in the mess of displaced snow. How… quiet it was.

 

How did a bunch of Temmies even get all the way out here? Was it wrong of them to have beefed with them? Was Papyrus’ first move the wrong choice?

 

Doge sniffed the ground here too, and Sans kept his distance. “As I suspected.”

 

“what’d ya find?”

 

“Prints clearly show a scuffle. Residual magic burns in the snow, footprints that match your profile as well as your companion’s... Everything is present save for one thing.”

 

Sans cocked a brow ridge.

 

“No dust,” she finished. Brow ridges lowering in disbelief, Sans crouched to examine the snow too.

 

“that can’t be right,” he interjected. “i saw’em dust with my own sockets. i literally had one dust on top a me.” If his voice didn’t give away the anxiety building in his skull, the sweat atop his skull did. “i heard’em fall. i know i did.”

 

Rapid thoughts spiraled through his skull as Sans stared at the dustless snow. He swore. He knew . But. Where. Was it?

 

His eyelights all but disappeared at the thought that this was just some nightmare. That it never happened. But if it didn’t, then were the events of the day before just a giant delusion? Was any part of it real? Sans found himself reaching for his collar. Affixing his distal phalanges on the soft leather, his eyelights returned statically.

 

Was… any of it real?

 

A paw rose and gently reached for his shoulder. Sans tensed at the gesture, rising with a jerk before seeing her paw retreat. Its quick departure quelled his rising anxiety by a fraction, and his eyelights resumed their normal glow.

 

If he knew anything about Doge, she knew how to read a situation as well as Boss. As well as Sans, maybe.

 

“I am not discrediting your recount nor your memory,” she steadily assured him. “The fact that there is no dust present could very well mean they were blown away, or perhaps another monster discovered them not long after your encounter.” Sniffing the air, her brow lifted demurely. “I wouldn’t put it past some beggars to scavenge dust for their own gain.” Unlike the Capital, Snowdin was a smaller community. Sure, they had their share of homeless monsters, but they didn’t have the same rumored problems as the Capital. At least, he didn’t think they did. (It’d be near impossible to hide dust once it hit the snow, after all.)

 

A sense of unease hung over Sans, and her attempt at reassurance did little to break his chain of thoughts.

 

But then there would be more tracks--not just their own. And unless someone else could teleport or float, how could they have cleaned it up so neatly? How could they have collected all that dust without touching the snow?

 

If the dust had been blown away, wouldn’t there at least be a trail?

 

The snow was too clean-- no one got rid of dust that easily- - something was wrong.

 

Sans’s thoughts suddenly honed in on the clothes he put on this morning: how spotless they were despite that Temmie dusting all over him.

 

There was no leftover dust when he awoke.

 

Dust always clung to certain surfaces depending on the circumstance of a monster’s death.

 

How were the folded clothes in his room clear of all dust if Papyrus hadn’t cleaned it himself?

 

How was he when he didn’t bother to shower?

 

Sans felt his breaths hitch as he began rapidly patting his pockets to ground himself in time. Panicked red eyelights flickering erratically at each pass over the fabric. Mustard bottle. Buzzer. Mustard packets. Phone. And finally, his collar. Eased by their presence, Sans’s breathing eventually slowed, and he brought his now white eyelights to Doge’s level.

 

She waited, almost with level disinterest at his slow resolve from his episode.

 

“Are you alright?” she asked. Stiffly, Sans clung to his sleeves before shoving his hands in his pockets. He was fine. He was fine. He was--

 

“yeah uh--thought i lost something,” he shrugged with a grin, sweat beading at his skull. Fuck was he glad she wasn’t the mothering type. Sans really didn’t need someone getting too interested in his...spells. The last thing he needed was to explain himself. “i just...i had a thought. actually,” he nervously blurted, “why in the void would someone come down here? let alone scavenge dust in the middle of stars-knows-where so cleanly? i mean, at the very least they’d add to this mess. and you’d have found more tracks than ours and the...forest temmies.”

 

Stroking her chin with a paw, Doge nodded.

 

“You have a point. T’would be most unusual of a circumstance indeed. But then where else would the dust be? You don’t appear to be lying, yet if you are there are no other witnesses besides you and your convenient companion.” Sans's brow ridges lowered.

 

“you suggesting we’d set this up?”

 

“No,” she replied frankly. “It would be quite low even for a skeleton of your stature to cry wolf so elaborately. Your motives would be unclear, if not foolhardy.” Brushing aside the notion, Doge tilted her head. “But if we are to entertain such a matter, then I would inquire as to why you’d take the dust when neither of you require the XP? As scrawny as you both are, even a handful would hardly be enough to increase your current level.”

 

The possibility that she either Checked him without Sans noticing or was just that good a guesser ignited a wary fury deep within him.

 

“i wouldn’t joke about something like that,” Sans argued.

 

“No? You seem to find humor in everything else.”

 

“that’s. different,” he insisted. “this is work. this--” he gestured to the tracks with a snap of his wrist, “almost killed me! had it not been for boss, i'd a--”

 

Doge’s spear plunged into the ice as her voice boomed over Sans’.

 

“I see this experience has affected you negatively,” she noted, “I...apologize for my outburst. You must know I mean no harm in speculating. You must understand this is a very strange occurrence.”

 

“yeah,” Sans scoffed. “strange as in never fucking happened before. the mere fact that it includes temmies out in the damned woods outta mean something, right?” Turning away, Sans expelled a breath. “what even the void were they doing all the way out here?”

 

Ignoring his seemingly rhetorical question, Doge retrieved her spear from the snow.

 

“Our current responsibility is to assess the situation and make certain it does not happen again,” Doge frowned. “Hazarding guesses will do no good until we collect more facts. And despite your predicament, keeping you both safe and secure is our top priority.” (even if it may not be deserved, Sans finished in his head.) “If there are others hidden beyond these borders, then they will have to worm their way past my defenses to try such a stunt again. So long as it too is not breached from the other side.” Slightly reassured, Sans smiled sheepishly.

 

“thanks doge,” he grinned. “y’do good.

 

Her nose twitched, and Sans spotted the wave of her tail.

 

“It is pronounced dohj,” she scolded, “not dawg.”

 

“ooh…” Sans hissed in realization. “my bad. throw me a bone though, won’t cha?” he grinned, “we don’t see ya as much as the rest of the canine unit. apologies fer the slip-up.” Her brow quirked almost sarcastically before she exhaled.

 

“Perhaps I will leave future introductions to myself instead of in our capable Captain’s hands.”  

 

“aww don’t drag her inta this. she’s already got a fuller than usual plate. besides, it’s not like she’d a done that on purpose.”

 

Huffing, Doge tossed her ears back.

 

“I will not hold such a petty mistake against our Dear Captain, but know if I hear you mispronounce my name you will get more from me than a reprimand.”

 

“is that a promise?” Sans teased. At her frown, Sans’ grin lowered. “right. sorry. my bad.” Coughing into his clenched fist, Sans redirected back on topic. “everyone knows temmies got a similar look ta them. the fact that these ones look enough like them ta be closely identified means we're already looking at a possible subspecies? a mutation?” Starting to pace, Sans hooked his thumb on his mental foramen. “why show up in the woods far from home if they’re not actively searching for something?” Doge sniffled, and brushed her nose with the back of her paw.

 

“Perhaps there is something we aren’t seeing,” Doge suggested. “A piece to this ever-evolving puzzle.”

 

Ah, puzzles. Definitely up his bro’s alley, if he were to join them in the discussion. Papyrus always researched a topic before throwing himself into something. Or if not, he was as great at bullshitting as he was improvising. The first thing he’d try and do was learn more about the Temmies. But, where to begin? Who to ask?

 

“temmies don’t normally venture too far from the inhabited areas of the underground, do they?” Sans mused. “maybe they were already here? why not try to get to the others?”

 

“Perhaps it is a matter of direction. If they were past the Snowdin boundary for an unequivocal amount of time, they might not be aware of the location of their kind.”

 

“explains the howling,” Sans muttered. “but do temmies even do that?”

 

“There is little the general populous knows of Temmies,” Doge stated. “They are a very private species and their interactions with other monsters are few and far between.”

 

Well...yeah. Sans had to admit almost no one knew anything about Temmies besides where they lived and what rumors sprouted in the Underground’s grapevine. Would it be a cultural thing to be able to survive dusting like that? Are they so hardy that they could just...whisk away like-- Another thought interrupted his own, quite loudly and unexpectedly.

 

Is it a defense mechanism?

 

No one came back from being dusted. It was unheard of. It was even less likely that a monster could regenerate from a pile of their own dust. The only time a monster could effectively be immortal was if they were to have children but outlive them, like the monarchy. Even the oldest of monsters had to die. Even Gerson. Even the King. Even--

 

But if the Temmies had found the key to living after a confirmed death, then to capture them alive would be a great accomplishment for monsterkind. Effective immortality feasibly within reach? It couldn’t be. It was too good to be true.

 

Sans willed his shaking phalanges to fists. If he hadn’t come here himself he’d have called this all bullshit.

 

The lack of dust then meant one of two things: a sneaky someone stole them, or the Temmies in their own way, managed to reform somehow. Possibly even far enough away not to be noticed. That thought worried Sans more than anything. He had to tell Papyrus, he decided, as Sans' hand reached into his pocket. He just had to keep his cool around Doge long enough to--

 

“I take it we are about finished then?” Doge inquired, interrupting his thoughts. “I am to report our findings to the Captain.” Phalanges gripping his phone tightly in his pocket, Sans nodded.

 

“yeah,” he agreed, rising to his feet. Both monsters surveyed their surroundings and strode around the tracks. Spear in both paws, Doge pierced the ground and a wave of yellow spears stabbed out from the snow. Effectively enclosing the area, Doge led the way as she summoned another spear in tow. Driving both spears parallel against the foot of the trees, waves of bardiches erupted from the ground and stood at their full height, barricaded the tracks leading to their first encounter.

 

It was no wonder Sans didn’t see her too often in action. Doge was, after all, specialized for jobs like these. Erecting barriers and maintaining them must take a lot of time and effort. She was the sentry you’d call for specific area defense.

 

Once the affected area was closed off, Doge yanked her spears from the ground and walked through the singular opening.

 

“Come now,” she urged. “I do not recommend staying inside. I would have to reapply the blockade, which I prefer to not do.”

 

Following after her, Sans looked back at the trees as the bardiches cut off the entrance of the path.

 

Papyrus was gonna think him absolutely insane; but if the Temmies really could, for a better word, reset themselves somehow, they both were in serious danger.

 

Especially when they decided to come back.

 

---

 

Deep in thought, Sans followed Doge back a moment before he stopped.

 

“wait a sec...” he called out. Turning she cocked her head.

 

“Have you forgotten anything?”

 

“nah, just wanted...a confirmation.” Marching back a few steps, Doge lifted a brow, curious.

 

“Yes?” Sans found himself wringing his sleeve.

 

“if...there was no dust, then how’d ya find where ta go in the first place?” He was surprised to find a small smile tug at the corner of her mouth.

 

“How should I put this...” she mused, her amused grin more prominent, “You have a very...strong scent for a monster without skin.”

 

Sans felt the immediate heat engulf his skull as he stared, confused and deeply concerned. She couldn’t mean--was it because he hadn’t showered? Was it from...earlier at Undyne’s? Sans found his soul dropping at the thought.

 

Chuckling to herself at this reaction, Doge brushed at her ear. “I advise you to refrain from wearing such heavy layers when in Hotland,” she suggested. “After all, such smells linger.” Noticing his stiffness, Doge sauntered forward again, toward the brothers’ patrol route. Laughing aloud, she called over her shoulder and winked, “But they do make it easier to retrace your steps.”

 

Mortified, Sans waited til Doge was further away before he lifted an arm and took a whiff.

 

Oh. Oh. She meant sweat, not--

 

Sighing heavily with relief, Sans jogged to catch up to her. Better to let it end at sweat than a more embarrassing alternative.

Chapter 9

Summary:

While he’s nearby, Papyrus puts aside his wants to visit dear old Tortoise Dad.

Notes:

This chapter went through so much revision, like enough I had to reorganize almost completely to make it more cohesive. Also! New character! :D

I hope this update was worth the wait. ^^;

Papyrus gazed at the entrance of the shop and sighed reminiscently. They had grown up here, he and Sans. If it were logistically feasible, they would have preferred to be stationed closer to home. But Snowdin needed them more, and though the walk was inconvenient, it wasn’t far.  

 

Not as far as the other districts they could have been sent to.

 

Stationing in Snowdin did make for new experiences, challenges, and room for growth Waterfall wouldn’t have been able to give them, though. Like learning that the Snowdin Division was in need of more leadership than what was originally anticipated, and discovering better methods of puzzles by using their environment. Seeing a need and filling one seemed like the perfect opportunity for Papyrus to earn respect among their fellow Guards, so he offered to take up the responsibility when prompted. It also helped that Papyrus thought himself an avid puzzle engineer.

 

Further training under, along with the inevitable friendship with the now illustrious Captain Undyne was more than he could ever have vied for.

 

Though he prided himself in his achievements, Papyrus in the deepest recesses of his soul still longed to study the manuscripts Gerson collected. The old tortoise did say he had a knack for scripts, as his name implied. (He did read somewhere in one of those semi-waterlogged Surface books that ancient Humans in the East made paper out of reeds called papyrus!)

 

Like with Sans in his yearning to become a food-seller, Papyrus yearned for a higher education. Home-schooling under Gerson wasn’t bad per say, but beyond that, there wasn’t much else available. Institutions for monster education limited higher practices to places nearest to the palace, like The Capital than in rural areas like Snowdin and Waterfall. Even Hotland had some form of community-led secondary school and college. And that wretched area was 75% comprised of an engineering nightmare to run The Core!

 

Frustrating as it were, Papyrus had to make do with his loquacious conjured tongue and the ability to bullshit to convince others to recognize his greatness. So far, it worked! So if Papyrus could get further with it, then he damn well will.

 

Papyrus was met with a brief tunnel as he drew near, its ceiling low enough that he literally had to hunch down to preserve his skull. As he entered the establishment, the smell of cinnamon and cooked crabapples wafted through. Oh? Papyrus nearly ran his skull into the ceiling in excitement— Did he catch Gerson during a baking day?

 

Thrilled, Papyrus briefly followed the aroma once inside. What a fine treat! Such an opportune moment! Entering the sales floor, he noticed a tall reptilian monster standing with their back to the register. They seemed to be deep in thought, a pen tapped against their chin and a pad of paper in their hand. Humming, their overgrown chin-length hair bounced as they turned their head, and realized they had company.

 

“‘Fraid we’re fresh out of sea tea today Missus—” looking over to acknowledge him, they froze a moment, tail swishing in anticipation. Jovial demeanor momentarily gone. “Oh—” their smile stiffened at their mistake, “—yer not who I thought y'were.” 

 

This was indeed a new face. Papyrus liked to think he knew absolutely everyone (of personal importance) in Waterfall. So this towering lizard (taller than Papyrus!) seemed almost out of place in this tiny shop. Not to mention all of Waterfall. Reptilians tended to stay toward the warmer regions of the Underground. To have one here that wasn’t Gerson was most unusual.

 

Papyrus merely smiled politely.

 

“That is quite alright. Do go on though. I did not mean to interrupt.” Papyrus caught a glimpse of the notepad as they slid it and the pen into their apron pocket to give him their full attention. The page was littered with scribbles of dimensions and hastily written equations.

 

“Oh, yer fine,” they insisted, “Nothing much out today ‘m afraid.” They curled a claw into their short purple-grey locks as they brushed some out of their green eyes. “But feel free ta look around,” they smiled genuinely. “Lemme know if ya need anything.”

 

“I shall,” Papyrus grinned as he picked up a shopping basket and began to browse. This lizard radiated something he hadn’t felt among most random monsters he’d encountered before. Even the Innkeep at the Snowdin Lodge didn’t emit such a strong feeling of welcoming. (Hers was more of a quiet, cozy feeling; one that promised shelter, like a fire in a hearth. Like a warm, restful night after a day in the cold.) Curious, Papyrus made a mental note to ask Gerson of this new employee when he had the opportunity.  

 

The shelves behind the register had little to offer in terms of goods, as the new hire stated. Disappointed but undeterred, Papyrus strode about, confident he’d find something on his list. But the more he looked, the more evident it became he would need to improvise. Gerson’s had always been a small shop. His inventory mostly consisted of goods Gerson either made himself or imported from the other districts in the Underground, if not supplemented by curiosities from The Dump. Sometimes, if he was lucky, Papyrus would find leftover flour from Gerson's baking experiments, or unfertilized eggs donated by willing avians. 

 

The best treat was when Gerson sold some of his freshly baked goods. If he didn’t have access to Gerson’s kitchen and messily scrawled recipes, Papyrus would brawl for the ownership of any pastry of Gerson's. If the old tortoise was ever recognized, he could make for a potential rival to the self-appointed Pastry Queen. Though if Muffet outmatched him in anything, it was her competitiveness. As a self-appointed good judge of character, Papyrus liked to think the only reason Gerson never advertised his pies was because he wanted it to remain strictly a hobby. He couldn’t blame the old tortoise though. Gerson had nearly a century (give or take a few decades) to his name. So if he was content with maintaining a shop as well as the history of the Underground, then so be it.

 

Retaining the shop did mean scouring for more inventory to make ends meet sometimes. When Gerson ran out of fresher things to sell, the stock would mostly consist of cans of whatever Surface garbage Gerson had picked up earlier in the week. Unfortunately during this shopping run, aside from the small stack of assorted cans, the inventory hadn’t changed much from last time.

 

Humming to himself, Papyrus mentally noted to change a few of his meal plans, as he picked through what was available. While he meandered, a bright stock of paper caught his eye. A small poster advertised the coming of new stock—of new flavors of sea tea! Papyrus expelled a small gasp. He wasn’t too fond of sea tea as a babybones, but this news was perfect for Gerson. 

 

Striding back to the register, Papyrus eyed the worker with a glimmer of excitement in his eyelight. 

 

“I beg your pardon,” he voiced, as he set down his fairly empty basket, “but I saw your poster there—”

 

“Hm?” The lizard was leaning over their notepad again, pen midway through adding another scribble when they turned around. “Oh the one about our new stock?” He grinned widely.

 

“Why yes. Would you care to inform me of the new flavors?” Grinning equally as wide, the lizard put down their pen and straightened to their full height.

 

“Of course!” they beamed, a warm excitement radiating from them. “Gerson's been working hard ta revamp his original recipe, as well as producing three new flavors!”

 

“Dear Stars,” Papyrus gasped. “That’s wonderful. When was this all decided?” A proud smile shone on the lizard’s face.

 

“At Gerson's, we pride ourselves in providing the best product for our customers,” they began. “And after being an established business fer over two decades, we saw it time fer a well-meaning change. So we asked ourselves: what is our best selling product? Next to places like the Snowdin Lodge and Muffet’s, what’s our signature specialty? What makes us stand out?” The lizard leaned closer so their eyes leveled with Papyrus’. “Shoot me a guess, Sir Skeleton,” they smiled engagingly. Sir Skeleton— the title alone made Papyrus’ soul swell and jut his ribcage out slightly.

 

“The sea tea—” he surmised.

 

“That’s right!” they praised, laughing proudly aloud. “No other place makes sea tea like us! As there’s no other place to catch a crabapple than at Waterfall!”

 

“They are indeed quite difficult to acquire elsewhere,” Papyrus agreed with a solemn nod.

 

“But—this plays to our advantage—” the lizard continued. “Y’see, Gerson’s had this idea yeah? Why not make an already good product better? Why not make it marketable to a wider audience? Why not make it so when ya talk about a sea tea, someone who’s never been ta Waterfall before knows exactly what it is?”

 

Papyrus’ smile faltered slightly. This sudden interest in commercialization didn’t sound like Gerson. Not at all.

 

“Considering the population,” he commented, “wouldn’t word-of-mouth suffice?”

 

“Well, of course!” they agreed. “But ta expedite the process, why not create a signature look? One everyone could immediately recognize?”

 

“I...don’t follow.” The Great and Terrible Papyrus. At a loss for words?

 

“Oh, it’s alright,” they assured him. “Here, lemme put it like this,” they gestured with open hands. “Have ya ever wondered why Surface bottles and designs always look different?” they asked, “Depending on the brand or previously held contents, some're very similar, but why do ya suppose most of them are differently shaped?”

 

“Aesthetic?” Papyrus offered.

 

“Close,” they revealed, a mischievous curl on their lip. “I believe besides aesthetic, Surface businesses created their own designs and bottles because it made'em more recognizable as part of their brand. So I figured, why not implement tha same here?” Alarmed, Papyrus’s sockets widened.

 

“But—what about production costs? The margin of profit isn’t very high from such a small shop. You might end up in debt!” 

 

Any big change always meant an equally high risk that it would not be taken well by the consumers.

 

Back when they were first starting to sell sea tea, Papyrus ladled them into whatever lidded containers they could clean and salvage: jars, bottles, carafes, all of miscellaneous shapes and sizes. Gerson at one point even thought they could use those usually crushed palm-sized cartons with straws in them, but those weren’t always in the best shape to reuse. Because the drinking vessels differed, the brothers just attached a glowing blue petal or leaf carefully labeled with Gerson’s name on the bottles’ necks or wherever they would hang, with salvaged string or rubber bands. They ended up pricing the sea tea in accordance to their volume, to make up for the variance in capacity.

 

Besides the labor put into collecting the containers and filling them, the labeling method was cheap, but effective. Many of their customers adored the rustic appeal of it.

 

To hear that someone else was trying to “update” and “rebrand” their simple design ignited a deep fury within him.

 

“Ah yes, I’ve considered that,” the lizard smiled, “the risk is high, but it won’t cost so much if we do it ourselves. Save fer some...” they cocked their head as if to search for a better word, “—supplementary expenses.” Papyrus fought to maintain a neutral expression as he felt a defensive anger flare.

 

So it was this employee that came up with the idea in the first place. Was Gerson really in need of a change of scenery? Was business really that slow as of late?

 

“I beg your pardon,” Papyrus swallowed down his rage as he politely interrupted, “but when was this all executed? How long ago was this planned?” It had only been a month since he lasted visited and already so much was changing. A new assistant, a new business practice, new products—

 

“Oh, don’t worry,” they reassured him, “I understand yer concern. All these new things happening so quickly—” They chuckled. “I’d be concerned too, but all it is is a temporary experiment.” 

 

Papyrus could feel his bated breath, along with his rising rage, physically expel into worry. 

 

How much money did they put into this new operation? Would they be able to earn back their keep? What about all that time spent advertising when they considered the possibility that it would not work out in the end?

 

The lizard seemed to sense his inner turmoil, and spoke up to dispel it.

 

“If we don’t get much business fer the new flavors, it’s not too big a loss,” they assured him. “If anything, we’ll gain new insight on what local monsters do want. If not those from out of town. It’s not all fer nothing,” they beamed. “Plus, if our inventory gets backed up, we can sell’em in bulk for a discount.” Papyrus stared, baffled at this response. Stars, who even was this monster? He had never encountered such positivity over a time-consuming task. Nor anyone as business-oriented before. “Oh yes, almost forgot,” they continued, reaching behind the counter, “did ya wanna try a sample? Gerson’s been at’em for weeks.” Intrigued, Papyrus leaned closer.

 

“Do tell me more,” he prodded. “What have you available?”

 

Delighted, the cashier deftly picked out four bottles and set them in front of him.

 

“Sea fer yourself,” they grinned. Papyrus stifled a chuckle at the pun, anger and worry momentarily forgotten, and picked up a bottle. Unlike the simple packaging they used growing up, these bottles had labels informing the consumer of how delectable these new flavors were to be, along with a short list of their ingredients, and a small illustration of the main flavor next to Gerson’s name. “I’ve been collecting bottles when I can ta melt down and mold inta some of our own,” the lizard grinned. “That way y’can recognize it from a distance. But if that flops we can always slap a label on what we got until we can.” Papyrus still didn’t like the idea, but at least they seemed to have a plan sorted out. Perhaps that was related to their earlier scribbling? “—Plus I got this idea where if ya keep yer original bottle, we’ll fill’er back up again for a discount.” 

 

Papyrus blinked at the idea.

 

“A strategic marketing idea,” he nodded, impressed. “To maintain interest. What of the chance they may abuse that ability? Say if they buy multiple bottles at once, or one of those gallon containers and return them all empty to refill them?”

 

“I suppose in the long-run it’d be annoying, but if it’ll be good fer business, we could honor it,” they shrugged. “And they can only refill it fer free once,” they seemed to decide. “After that we charge’em the difference.”

 

“What if you encounter an angered customer?” Papyrus inquired, “one upset of this new policy?”

 

“If it comes down ta it, I never forget a face,” they smirked. “I’ll tell’em ta beat it if they’re trying ta bite more than they can chew.” 

 

“A sound idea,” Papyrus murmured, as he set down the bottle. “Are you not worried it would backfire?” He finally caught sight of a name tag on their apron. It read in neat print: Wally.

 

“Gerson’s is a respectable business Sir,” Wally commented, seemingly undeterred at his relentless questioning. “If there were any unsavory monsters hanging about here, I’d kick’em out myself.” At this, Papyrus smiled.

 

“If anyone can handle this job and Gerson all at once, it’s someone like you.” Papyrus eyed them as he offered a hand. “Papyrus,” he introduced himself, “Royal Guard in training. Snowdin Division. And you are?”

 

The lizard shook his hand firmly and maintained almost a stern eye contact.

 

“You can call me Wally,” they replied, “Store Assistant. Gerson’s,” they quipped with a toothy grin. Papyrus caught himself returning it.

 

“You said you’ve been working here a while?” he clarified. “I don’t believe I recall seeing you last time I was here.” The lizard squinted and looked to the ceiling in thought.

 

“Oh—! Lately Gerson’s had me collecting material for the new product,” they beamed. “And uh, hauling stuff out from the dimensional box. I’m fairly easy ta miss, I assure ya.” Papyrus wondered if they meant that in a rhetorical sense or a literal one as Wally gestured to the shelves behind them. “I’ve also been working behind the scenes whenever Gerson’s worked the storefront. Y’know, trading off. We’re the only two here so it’s only fair I do what the ol’ Boss can’t. While he works his magic, right?” They winked. “We outta be bringing in an established inventory once we’ve finalized our samples, but in the meantime we’re out fer a while so Gerson could...y’know, test the waters.” Papyrus smiled.

 

“Understandable,” he nodded. Back when he manned the register, he’d throw out a pun or two and if the customer appreciated it, their response would delight him for hours.

 

To see someone else also doing the same warmed his soul.

 

“Speaking of, what were ya thinking of sampling today?” Wally smoothly asked, a pleased smile on their face.

 

Papyrus took a closer look at the bottles in front of him. They were clearly empty, which he found unusual when they wanted to encourage a tasting. Perhaps they had small sample cups set aside when interest arose. It would be less of a hassle after all, rather than wasting an entire bottle of product for a customer who wouldn’t appreciate it. 

 

Despite the lack of sea tea within the bottles, Papyrus found the labels awfully well made. The addition of an illustration for each flavor was quite endearing, and he could imagine the colors of the tea themselves matching them as well.

 

“Is this one to be a syrup?” he asked, picking up the bottle labeled Sea Tea Iced. It had a partially melting bisicle illustrated on it.

 

“Haha—” Wally chuckled, “yeah. We’re having a little trouble with that one, y’know consistency issues, but in its liquid form it tastes almost exactly like a melted bisicle.”

 

“Must mean you go through a lot of sweeteners!” Papyrus laughed.

 

“A little too much ta be honest,” Wally snickered. “But y’know, all in the name of experimentation!”

 

“Does the Snowdin Innkeep have a share in licensing?” Papyrus asked. “If they knew of this would it upset them?” Wally shrugged.

 

“It’s more of a collaboration piece. That and the one next ta it. If we turn a profit from them and gain interest, then it’s better fer both our businesses!”

 

Putting down the Sea Tea Iced bottle, Papyrus scrutinized the one they gestured toward. It had an illustration of a crabapple dusted with cinnamon. His sockets widened.

 

“Is this what I think it is?”

 

“If yer thinking what I am,” Wally beamed, “then yes! That one’s my favorite!”

 

“Crabapple Pie Sea Tea...Essence of crabapple pie along with a hint of cinnamon—” Papyrus read aloud the script. “You’ve tasted this?” he inquired. “Is it like one of Gerson’s pies?”

 

“Like he liquefied an entire pie’s worth of filling,” they grinned.

 

“Stars—” Papyrus inhaled sharply. “Has it made it too sweet or—”

 

“Oh no, it’s got just the right amount so y’can still taste tha crabapples. The cinnamon plays real well with their light bitterness.”

 

“Incredible…” Papyrus mused. “So does it also taste much like the Cinnamon Buns in Snowdin?”

 

Wally eyed him quizzically.

 

“You tell me, Sir Skeleton,” they seemed to smirk innocently.” Papyrus cocked his head curiously before turning his attention to the one he recognized the most. It had a drawing of an Echo Flower on the label and a leaf etched around Gerson's name. The tip of the leaf folded slightly over, as if gently caressing his name. 

 

To see remnants of their original design brought a tear to his socket.

 

“The one that started it all,” Wally nodded. “Nothing beats the original.” Papyrus wiped at his socket as if to check if he really did shed a tear.

 

“No,” he shook his head. “I don’t think any really can.” As if just noticing the fourth bottle, Papyrus blinked to scrutinize the label. “A yellow flower?” he asked.

 

“That one’ll take a while to produce,” Wally explained. “They’re more a limited edition flavor when we can get enough to extract their flavor.”

 

Papyrus paused.

 

“I see…”

 

“But when it’s tried and truly tested, that’ll come out in no time,” they assured him.

 

“Can you tell me a little more about these designs?” Papyrus inquired.

 

“Oh, we commissioned a local designer to work on th'art,” Wally exclaimed. “They did an awesome job, didn’t they?” Papyrus had to admit, having the funds to commission someone else to beautify an already existing product was quite novel. Perhaps Gerson’s was doing a lot better than he originally thought. “You said y'were from Snowdin?” The lizard interrupted his train of thought. Papyrus blinked, wrinkling his brow ridges to process the question.

 

“Yes?”

 

“Does news travel far there?” they asked, “like from the other parts of the Underground.”

 

“Between the surrounding districts? Yes,” Papyrus replied. “Though most of it is just gossip and rumors. None that ought to be taken seriously.”

 

Wally’s gaze drew away a moment.

 

“Y’know, fer how long I’ve worked here, I haven’t met someone who lived in Snowdin yet,” they realized. “Do ya hear much news from the Capital?” Papyrus took a moment to ponder this.

 

“Not unless it’s official business, no,” he admitted. “Why? Is something happening?” Wally seemed to shift uneasily, their tail swished in a nervous wave.

 

“It’s...better if I don’t share,” they responded anxiously, “gotta be wary of outside eyes and ears y’know.” Papyrus nodded in understanding.

 

“All of which I do not have.”

 

 A moment passed before Wally realized his jape. Snickering, they covered their mouth, mood now relaxed.

 

“First a thoroughly interested customer, now a skeleton with a funny-bone! This day just keeps getting better!” Wally paused, then snapped their fingers as if remembering something. “Oh right yer sample! Here—lemme call my boss—” 

 

“There’s no need to rush,” Papyrus lightheartedly chuckled.

 

“I’d give’em to ya straight from tha bottles, but we haven’t packaged'em yet. We’re still finalizing tha designs,” they apologized. “Even though, well—they look pretty final as is.”

 

“That is quite alright,” Papyrus insisted with a nod. Wally turned around, sticking half their frame under the halved curtain separating the store from the living area.

 

“Gerson we got a customer,” they hissed excitedly. “He wants ta try the new flavors.”

 

Amused, Papyrus covered his widening grin with a gloved hand. They probably wouldn’t believe him unless they saw anyhow. He could hear the shuffle of footsteps as the old tortoise dragged half his weight toward the store front. Half-lidded eyes peered out scrupulously toward Wally before slowly, shakily turning to see.

 

“Y’say we gots a customer?”

 

Papyrus waved lightly as the old tortoise came into view.

 

Watching Gerson pause and squint before the growing realization and delight dawned on his face brought joy to Papyrus’ soul.

 

“Izzat you Russet?!” the old tortoise hooted jovially. Both hands reached for him. “Lemme geta good look at’cha.” Papyrus could have sworn he heard Wally muffle a surprised snort, but he ignored it.

 

“Gerson it’s only been a month,” Papyrus teased while obliging his request.

 

“Y’know these eyes aren’t what they used ta be,” Gerson remarked, pinching at Papyrus’ bony face. “‘specially this one,” he pointed to the one mostly swollen shut. “Where’s Norland?” the tortoise asked, pulling Papyrus into an awkward hug. 

 

“He’s got a prior engagement,” Papyrus commented, as he squeezed him back.

 

“Well whatever date he’s with’s gotta wait!” Gerson laughed, letting him go. “He may be going places but I ain’t.”

 

“I’ll be sure to let Sans know,” Papyrus smiled as he closed their distance again, both he and the old tortoise lifting their arms in an embrace. Holding him tight, Gerson smiled as he gently squeezed the tall skeleton. Reluctantly, Papyrus let go and faced him. Smiling, Gerson patted his back.

 

“Now, wazzit this old reptile can do fer ya today?”

 

“I wanted to pay you a visit,” Papyrus smiled fondly. “A proper one, I mean.”

 

“Yer too good to me,” Gerson chuckled. “Wally tells me yer wantin’ some samples?”

 

“Why yes,” Papyrus eagerly nodded.

 

“Well c’mon in!” Gerson ushered him under the curtain to the back, where the aroma of baked crabapples stuck strongly to the air and walls. “Thisiz just as much as yer home as it is mine,” he grinned.

 

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Papyrus smiled. Stepping in, he was nearly knocked over when Gerson pulled a big arm out in front of him.

 

“I see ya running away,” the tortoise tugged at their retreating apron. “Why don’t cha come in too?” Wally blinked, their mouth in a comically large frown.

 

“But—the store—” they protested.

 

“Ain’t no one else comin’ fer another half hour an’ y’know it,” Gerson insisted with a wide grin. “B’sides, i’s not every day I git ta see one a m’boys ‘round here!” Sheepishly, Wally stepped closer. Satisfied, the old tortoise released them, and stepped back into the short tunnel separating the living quarters from the store. 

 

“You and Wally been introduced properly?” Gerson called over his shoulder, as he lumbered surprisingly ahead. Papyrus glanced back to see the tall lizard smirking with exasperated fondness as they joined him.

 

“I have,” he called back as Gerson’s shell disappeared around the corner.

 

“He must think quite highly of ya if he wants me ta leave the front unattended,” they commented. Papyrus smiled and shrugged. 

 

“It’s probably because I’m taller than him now,” he replied. The pun was worth the widening smile that encompassed their face.

 

“Alright, I’ll give that ta ya,” they admitted with a snort. After a moment to collect themself, Wally put a hand on their hip. They leaned forward, their neck tilting so their gaze was level with Papyrus’. “Russet, hm?” They grinned toothily, bemused, but not unkind. Papyrus couldn’t hide his smirk fast enough.

 

“What of it?”

 

“That’s just—” they straightened and covered their snout to snicker, “—so cute! What didja do ta get such an adorable nickname?”

 

“I didn’t mention my brother and I practically grew up here?” he teased.

 

“No!” they chuckled in disbelief. “There’s two of you?” Wally shook their head, tickled at the thought. “You’ll hafta introduce me.”

 

“I’m sure he’ll pop in when he gets the chance,” Papyrus joked. 

 

“Gerson mentioned having previous help, but he never said he practically raised them,” they continued, delightedly touched. “That’s just—so sweet—”

 

“Well,” Papyrus rolled his eyelights and grinned. “If working for Gerson is just as rough as it was when we were under his employ, then I admire and respect the fact that you are still with him.” 

 

“He’s not so bad,” Wally reassured him, “Can be a bit grumpy, but he means well. And god when it gets busy, does he have a different face. ” They eyed Papyrus with a slight cock to their head. “Was he always tha type ta take in troublemakers?”

 

Papyrus chuckled.

 

“What makes you think I’m trouble?”

 

It was only a few moments, but Papyrus swore Wally was staring into his soul without Checking him. Curious, he allowed them to study his face a little more.

 

“Y’got this...atmosphere about cha,” they commented, craning their neck back a respectful distance. “Like trouble finds you sorta thing, y’know?”

 

Staring, Papyrus broke eye contact briefly before squinting.

 

“I’d like to think I can handle it when trouble finds me,” he replied, confidently facing them.

 

“You’d certainly get trained fer it, I hope!” they chuckled. “Being a Guard and all!” Then, realizing something, Wally added, “What’s a Snowdin Guard even doing all tha way out in Waterfall?” they asked, “Isn’t there a shop or a market over there too?”

 

“I’m off-duty,” Papyrus remarked. “And though it may seem biased, this is the only place I shop for foodstuffs.”

 

“A skeleton with a funny-bone and standards,” Wally nodded with a knowing smile. “Glad to know we have your patronage.” 

 

“Gerson is the only one who seems to care more about what he’s putting out,” Papyrus added. “Also...everywhere else doesn’t seem to have as big a selection as him.”

 

“We do try to diversify our products,” Wally supplied. “Ordering from whatever places we feasibly can while within budget.”

 

“Do you now?” Papyrus queried, curious. Was it any different from before he and Sans left?

 

“Yeah, on occasion we’ll get a number of product and supplies from as far as th'Capital,” Wally counted with their fingers, “from Hotland, and occasionally from our very own Dump.”

 

“Isn't that where most of the cans come from?” 

 

“Welllllll yer not wrong,” Wally replied sheepishly. “We haven’t been scavenging as much cuz we’ve been focusing on rebranding and shtuff.” 

 

“It’s probably for the best anyway,” Papyrus inclined his head slightly, choosing to ignore their slip of the tongue. “I’ve read a minor report on suspicious figures wandering around in the Dump, and I recommend anyone going in to be prepared in case anything goes down.”

 

“Wouldn’t want anyone getting hurt out there anymore than tha already immediate dangers of scavenging in an unregulated site, yeah?” Wally shrugged in return before peering out at the storefront briefly. “We never get more than a few customers this time of tha mid-day cycle anyway,” they winked, “so despite my better judgement, I can sneak away fer a spell.”

 

“Not many take much interest in the new flavors?” teased Papyrus.

 

“Oh they are,” Wally defended as they stepped back from under the half-curtain, “when they show up that is. I think yer the first today.”

 

“I am thoroughly honored,” he playfully bowed.

 

“You better be!” they snarkily replied, “I gave you my best ever spiel!”

 

“And it was an impressive one at that,” Papyrus complimented.

 

“Oh you,” they shook away the compliment with a wave of their hand. “Yer just more receptive than the crowds ‘m more used to.”

 

Papyrus blinked.

 

“What do you mean?” he asked, curious.

 

“Everyone is Waterfall’s so...chill. Like, unbothered by things, despite how the Dump is literally a growing pile of garbage and waste yet it’s our one connection to tha Surface and all its refuse—Like—” they shook their head. “It’s...an odd change of pace. Way different from Hotland—”

 

Papyrus couldn’t hide his disdainful frown fast enough.

 

“So you are from Hotland—”

 

“No—” they corrected, their brows knitting. “I ain't! Fricking hated that place.” If Papyrus didn’t realize how much his sockets could widen, he certainly discovered their capabilities now.

 

“Stars--” he gasped passionately, “I do too!”  

 

“What—no way,” they scoffed in disbelief. “Why would you have any reason ta be near Hotland?”

 

“Personal business,” he simply replied, as if there was clearly some other reason. “What about you?” 

 

“Ex-personal business,” they scowled in exasperation. “It’s like everything there is inundated with tha reminder that every part of life in Hotland is gonna be difficult. ‘specially with those goddamn steam vents everywhere.”

 

Be still his soul, someone who understood!  Papyrus saw their lip curl into a grimace as they exhaled. Blinking, they eyed him, suddenly stiffening.

 

“Look—I’m—’m sorry,” they apologized. “I’ve many an issue with the Capital and Hotland both and yer like the first in a long time who’s actually been interested in even discussing’em. Haven’t really been professional ‘bout it.”

 

Papyrus blinked.

 

“I’ll have you know you are speaking to one who thoroughly dislikes enough the notion of Hotland. I may be more biased than you believe.”

 

“No y’don’t—” they gritted their teeth before attempting to explain themselves again. “I know how it is but not why,” Wally corrected, “it’s just... relieving ta have someone who’ll listen, y’know? Even if they already happen ta hate it as much as I do,” they smiled lightly, shyly. “It’s...tiring not being heard. And it’s nice when someone listens for a change.”

 

Papyrus considered this.

 

“Well, whatever Hotland has done to wrong you, I’m glad you are rid of it now,” he half-smiled. “Not like working for Gerson has been any worse?”

 

“It’s no Capital punishment, that’s fer sure,” Wally noted with a smirk. Papyrus’ sockets about grew in size.

 

“I MADE THAT JOKE EARLIER TODAY TOO!” he laughed aloud.

 

“Glad ta know we got the same, sick sense a humor,” they chuckled, hand to their chest, about brushing their apron.

 

“We ought to head in, hm?” Papyrus realized, “can’t keep the old tortoise waiting.”

 

“Yeah,” Wally agreed, with a small smile as they followed him out of the hallway.

 

--

 

“Y’all have a fine chat?” Gerson asked, as the two stepped into the living quarters. “Have a seat!” Eagerly, Papyrus seated himself on his old chair, much smaller than before now, and waited as Gerson made his way to the kitchen. “You’ll have to forgive the mess,” Gerson chortled, “Wally’s better at managing the store than cleaning up an old monster’s mess.”

 

“I would if ya'd let me,” they remarked lightheartedly.

 

“Sounds like Gerson alright,” Papyrus chuckled, “in all his organized chaos.”

 

“Iz not chaos if I know where everything is,” Gerson teased, as he slipped oven mitts over his clawed hands. Papyrus heard the hiss of their rickety oven as the tortoise opened the hatch. “Lucky I had this in progress,” he grinned. “Be a shame to have company and nothing to snack on.”

 

Papyrus smelled the unmistakable scent of magic-treated crust and cinnamon-sugared crabapples. Pie. 

 

Gerson looked over to his employee.

 

“Have ya had yer break yet?” Wally blinked.

 

“Am...I allowed to? Right now?” they asked, confused.

 

“Why not?” Gerson offered, “I’d hate ta enjoy this pie without ya.” A smile played across Wally’s mouth as they found the next closest seat.

 

“Aww Boss… yer too sweet.” Setting down the steaming pie on a slightly rusted trivet, Gerson eyed Papyrus.

 

“Now we gotta let it rest or the filling’ll burn yer conjured tongue, yeah?” Papyrus playfully rolled his eyelights.

 

“Yes, Gerson.”

 

“Y’won’t need ta tell me twice,” Wally chuckled, sensing a story in this exchange. 

 

“Care fer some tea while we wait?” Gerson asked, an amused glint in his eye. Wally slapped a hand over their face and silently groaned.

 

“Fuck—forgot ta ask which in particular—”

 

“Oh no, it’s alright,” Papyrus insisted, smiling reassuringly. “What flavors are available today?” he asked, turning to the old tortoise. At this, Gerson lit up. Turning about to sift through a box of bottles, he grabbed a ladle. 

 

“Come now,” Gerson nattered gleefully. “See what yer old man’s been up to.” Rising from his seat, Papyrus pushed the chair back in before following after him.

 

When he caught up to Gerson, Papyrus recognized the relatively spacious room they stepped foot in as Sans’ old storage-closet-turned-bedroom. Eyeing the walls, he noticed Gerson had kept the shelves occupied with the small, found treasures the two gave him. Papyrus found himself smiling at the gesture. Gerson had converted it into a brewing station, with multiple vats of sea tea bubbling away. 

 

“Wow,” he marveled, taking it all in. “How long did it take to set this all up?” he asked in rhetorical wonderment. “Wally tells me you’ve been been experimenting for weeks.”

 

“They sure as heck got that right,” Gerson beamed, “and Wally can tell ya—we think this’ll draw in more customers too.”

 

To have barrels and barrels siphoned and rolled in from the marsh must have taken Wally multiple day cycles. Papyrus smirked appreciatively, impressed at the setup and the work put into it.

 

“What about the rebranding?” Papyrus brought up. “Was that a collective decision as well?”

 

“Call it a collective business venture,” Gerson quipped. “Wanted ta try something new now that ya both’re making names fer yerselves.”

 

“Oh?” Papyrus cocked his head. “was that before or after your hired them?” Gerson shrugged. 

 

“Does it matter? It’s kept us busy, and it’ll surely help with business once we get tha ball rolling.” Papyrus studied him a moment, trying to decide whether to push for more information about Wally or not. They weren’t all that bad, from what he saw. If anything, they were just a charismatic worker who was also passionate about what they do. They looked like they really enjoyed it here, and for that Papyrus was thankful. It made the job easier, to find joy in the work and effort. “This one,” Gerson interrupted his thoughts with a wave of the utensil, “is the cinnamon crabapple tea. Best served hot!” He served a ladleful into a clean jar for Papyrus to try. 

 

Taking a swig, Papyrus puckered a moment from the initial sourness before he gulped it down. It was sweeter than he originally anticipated, but not overpowering.

 

“It’s delicious, Gerson,” he commented, surprised at Wally’s accurate overall description. “It really is like you liquefied one of your pies and put it in a bottle.”

 

“That’s tha idea!” the tortoise laughed. “Took me weeks ta get it right. M’glad it was all worth it.” 

 

“I had ta chase and grab many a crabapple fer that one,” Wally added, stepping inside the room with a steaming plate of pie and a fork. “How’d y’all end up getting’em?” 

 

Papyrus laughed.

 

“Sans and I would whack them with a broom or trap them with cooking supplies until we could properly summon our magic. Then Gerson had us get more creative with how we caught them.” Wally snorted.

 

“What’d he have y’both do?”

 

“Oh you know,” he shrugged, “There were two of us, so either Sans or I would create a vessel in which to bag them, and a long bone to either maneuver them at a distance or block their path of escape.” Papyrus giggling to himself as he recounted another memory. “At one point, Sans summoned a pair of gloves to protect himself from their pinches.”

 

“Y’never thought ta pick’em up from their behinds?” Wally queried, swallowing a mouthful of pie to be polite. “That’s how I bag’em. No pinches that way.”

 

“Oh, we were both quite small still, so it wasn’t until we learned we could use blue magic to pick them up that we nearly abandoned the stick and sack method,” Papyrus explained. “But,” he smirked, “once in a while we’d challenge the other on who could bag the most crabapples without magic.” Sighing, Papyrus grinned fondly. “It was mighty fun. A great method of honing our abilities.” Turning to side-glance Gerson, he added, “And even better, an opportunity for Gerson to bake one of his pies.”

 

Wally laughed.

 

“I wouldn’t blame ya! These pies are Star-sent.”

 

“You kids an’ yer flattery,” Gerson scoffed good-naturedly, “all you getting’em is half tha work. ‘m gettin’ too old to make more than I used to.”

 

“You mastered the art of a good pie and yet still managed to keep it quiet from Muffet?” Wally whistled at this.

 

“Wow Boss, yer exceptional ta evade the likes a her.”

 

“Tha compliments jus’ keep piling!” Gerson laughed, “Lay’em on me iffin ya got more.” The two made room so Gerson could make his way back out to the kitchen again.

 

“And I betcha she’s got nothing on that Hammer a yers,” Wally remarked.

 

“You’re just fishing now,” Papyrus called them out, “if you lived anywhere near here you would have known just how famous Gerson was in his prime!”

 

“Ohhh no now, y’don’t got ta bring that up,” Gerson interrupted. “I’m jus’ an ole shopkeep now,” he practically whistled through his beak, “an aging tortoise with his own shop and two renegade squires making names fer themselves in the blist’ring land of Snowdin.” Gerson rinsed the ladle before setting it in the sink. Wally stepped after him, chewing through another bite of pie. Papyrus followed last, tilting his head.

 

“Was that the door?” Eyes wide, Wally gulped through their serving.

 

“Be right back,” they promised, setting their dish and fork in the sink before speeding out from behind the curtain. Gerson watched them go, a fond smile on his face.

 

“From what I understand they work just as hard as we did,” Papyrus grinned.

 

“A’ course!” Gerson chuckled. “They cert’inly took to it all quite well.”

 

“How long have you had them?” 

 

Gerson squinted a moment as if to count backward the day cycles.

 

“mmm...give or take a year? Why d’ya ask?” he turned his head to face Papyrus with his good eye.

 

“Wally seems vastly overqualified to just be an assistant,” Papyrus mused. “They’re…” he put a hand to his chin in thought. “—how do I put this—awfully good at it? For having only been here a year? And if they have been here that long, I would certainly have at least seen them once in these past few months.”

 

“I’ve been keeping’em busy,” Gerson merely smiled. “‘s hard work with only two of us y’know. But I’d rather have them than another helper. It’s true that it’d out in tha long run, but they’re a good kid. And I’m running outta room.”

 

“Wait—you're housing them too?”

 

Gerson nodded.

 

“They don’t got anywhere else ta go Russet,” he stated. “And y’know for a fact the safest a monster can be is behind a counter. No matter how difficult it can be.” Papyrus’ brow ridge crooked, confused.

 

“Was...was this a prior arrangement? For how long?”

 

“Just until they can git back on their feet,” Gerson smiled. “And as a monster of their caliber? They need all the help they can get!”

 

“Wally mentioned not having a place to live?” he inquired.

 

“Oh they have one. ‘s just not finished yet,” Gerson explained. “But even when they do happen ta have it done, I’ll still have’em around. Gets a little lonely without m’two squires,” he teased.

 

Papyrus’ face fell.

 

“...it’s been...busy lately,” he admitted. “For Sans and I both.”

 

“I know,” Gerson patted his back in understanding. “I won’t take up more time than y’got, Russet.”

 

“No, no—” Papyrus insisted, “it’s...it’s not that. I—” he swallowed dryly. “There’s no excuse besides other responsibilities getting in the way. And...Sans is trying so hard to keep us afloat.”

 

“That stipend ain’t enough, innit?” Gerson guessed. Papyrus shook his head in reply. “Wasn’t much either when I was in the Guard,” he confessed.

 

“I’m glad you have them,” Papyrus grasped at his own elbow as if to hold himself back, a soft smile gracing his teeth. “I really am. Wally seems like a good fit for the work we left behind, and they look like they do like it here.” 

 

“Wally’s a good kid,” Gerson grinned, “but they ain’t like my boys.” Reaching forward to close their distance, Papyrus let the tortoise hug him.

 

“I wouldn’t mind if we got to know them a bit more,” Papyrus chuckled, wiggling his arms free to hug Gerson back. “If they don’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon, we still need to introduce them to Sans.”

 

“Ah’m sure Norland’ll find his way ‘round these parts sooner or later,” Gerson smiled wistfully. “He’s always one to appear outta nowhere.”

 

“He certainly is,” Papyrus agreed with a nod. Turning back into the brewing station, Papyrus peered over the other metal drums until he saw one that caught his eye. “What might this one be?” he asked. The blue color was slightly more brilliant than he remembered, but perhaps it was due to a change in the recipe. Gerson made his way back to the doorway.

 

“Oh! That’s still in development,” Gerson laughed, stretching his neck a tad to see which drum he meant. “But you’ve seen how abundant glowing mushrooms and Echo Flowers are, yeah?” Papyrus nodded. “Lemme git you in on a trade secret,” Gerson grinned mischievously. Leaning in close, the tortoise whispered in Papyrus’ acoustic meatus, “The worst thing y’can do with those is grind’em up and snort’em—” and pulling back, his voice now louder, “—Otherwise, they make fer a delicious topping fer yer pasta!”

 

Uncomfortable with the implication, Papyrus smiled stiffly.

 

“I shall...keep that in mind!” he replied. “Is that what is in this brew?” he asked, for clarification of course.

 

“Oh not at all!” Gerson laughed heartily. “Sure I picked a couple petals off some healthy Echo Flowers, but only to extract their flavor. See,” he pointed to his work station along the wall, where trays of shriveled petals lay. “The petals’re dried and they steep in the water until I can get the most outta them. They’re really only used as an additive. How else ya think my tea glows hm?”

 

“I always thought it was from the water itself,” Papyrus confessed. “Like it had its own form of magic as it is exposed to our own.” Gerson smiled gently. 

 

“That’sa very poetic way ta put it,” he sighed. “Anyway, enough about that. I have something very special,” he winked. “If you’ll humor me.”

 

“By all means,” Papyrus allowed.

 

“I’ve been saving this,” the tortoise whispered conspiratorial-like, “for such an occasion as this.” Papyrus would have giggled at the act had he not composed himself enough to play along.

 

“Now what might this be? To be such an event that would entail such a thing?” Gerson leaned in close as if to share a secret.

 

“M’boy, I thought ya’d never ask.” Delighted at his interest, Gerson strode into the storeroom and extracted a small, tinted glass bottle. “Remember when ya used to squirrel yer way around and ask me what I kept hidden back here fer so long?” Papyrus laughed aloud.

 

“You don’t mean—!” he chuckled with disbelief. “You guarded them like a treasure!” As Gerson handed him the small bottle, Papyrus took a whiff as the tortoise uncorked it.

 

“Well, y’gotta age it or else the flavors won’t meld,” he stated. “Otherwise it’d just be harsh flower tea.”

 

“This…” Papyrus took another whiff. “It doesn’t smell at all like the Echo Flowers.”

 

“Y’got a pretty good sense of smell for a monster without a nose,” Gerson teased. “It’s yellow flower petals,” he affirmed. Confused, Papyrus’ brow ridges furrowed.

 

“But those only grow—”

 

“In the Ruins and the Palace Gardens,” Gerson nodded. “This was a gift,” he explained, “from an old friend.” Papyrus didn’t miss that hint of nostalgia in his voice.

 

“Long forgotten?” he asked, “Or long dead?”

 

“Neither,” Gerson shook his head with a smile. “Just lost.” The glint in his eye twinkled a moment before Papyrus decided to drop the subject. That must have been what Wally meant, why that yellow flower sea tea would take longer to produce. He didn’t think any good would come out of it though, considering where they’d need to source the petals from.

 

Choosing a mug from the cupboard, Papyrus helped himself to a small ladle full of Gerson's original recipe. He had grown a distaste for it as a baby bones but as an adult? Perhaps he’d have a taste for it now. The tea bubbled in his nasal cavity as Papyrus sipped, and the pleasant freshness smoothly coated his conjured tongue. He could taste flecks of reconstituted Echo Flower petals and the subtle flavor they lent to the finished product.

 

Now that he was much older, he could appreciate how it was at its freshest.

 

“Do ya prefer it cold brewed or hot?” Gerson inquired, interrupting the experience. Papyrus sniffed the liquid a moment before taking another sip.

 

“I didn’t think you could serve sea tea hot,” he replied. Gerson laughed.

 

“It all depends on preference,” he chuckled. “Though not in the way ya’d think.”

 

“How do you heat it then?” Papyrus asked, intrigued.

 

“Lemme show you a trick I learned from an old friend,” Gerson winked, taking the mug from him. “Hope ya still got yer sweet-tooth.”

 

“Gerson what are you—” Before Papyrus could stop him, Gerson swished in the contents of a tiny bottle carefully into the mug and produced a battered blowtorch from a nearby drawer. Lighting the liquid, Gerson handed the flaming drink back, grinning widely. Papyrus’ jaw hung open.

 

“Yer supposed ta put it out befur drinking it,” Gerson supplicated. Papyrus stared as Gerson set it in front of him, watching the flames lick at the surface.

 

“How did—”

 

“He called it ‘flambeing,’” Gerson chuckled. “Now put it out befur it burns through the mug. Iffin ya had lips it’d burn it too.” 

 

Searching for something to contain the flames, Papyrus proceeded to cover the entire mug with an upturned, but otherwise clean pot. Flames now extinguished, Papyrus carefully studied the lightly smoking beverage. The pungent smell of alcohol hung above it, though having been burned seemingly decreased its harshness.

 

 Tentatively, Papyrus pushed it aside. 

 

“How is it supposed to taste?” he asked. “With how it is now?”

 

“Hm? I only put a small bit, to coat tha surface. Most of tha alcohol shoulda burned off by now. Though ya might taste some ovit.”

 

Scrutinizing the drink, Papyrus bravely gulped down a taste. It coated his conjured tongue with the strange mix of sea tea and motor oil. Gagging, Papyrus swallowed it down with great effort. 

 

“I...that display must have been quite...expensive,” he floundered for words.

 

“Oh it’s very expensive,” Gerson quipped, “y’gotta use the good stuff from the Surface or it won’t light properly.”

 

“I see…” Considering this technique, Papyrus took a mental note to test this method out himself.

 

Gerson soon joined him at the table, and set down his own mug of sea tea. Sipping it, the tortoise looked him over. Papyrus didn’t realize how visibly tired the old tortoise had become; how being as ancient as he was, Gerson seemed to have shrunk considerably from his heyday height of almost 8 feet. Granted, the tortoise was still larger than life, but to acknowledge it suddenly brought the worst to mind, and Papyrus tried to push aside the thought before it would spiral into something more distressing. 

 

“Y’been shopping here since ya both left yet never found time ta si’down an’ talk until now,” Gerson observed. “What brought about this visit?”

 

Papyrus studied the mug in front of him, cursing himself for finishing the drink too early. Despite his age, Gerson's astuteness remained the same. Deciding it would be better to admit what was troubling him, Papyrus sighed.

 

“Sans and I,” he frowned, trying to decide how to bring up their atypical encounter, “we discovered something unusual in the woods outside our patrol route.”

 

“Oh?” Gerson’s brow knitted slightly. “Was it another one a those youngin couples meeting up again?” Papyrus laughed, accidentally letting a snort loose.

 

“What? No!” he belted, surprised. “No, it was...something else.” At his change in demeanor, Gerson eyed him.

 

“Are y'allowed ta talk about it?”

 

“Ah...” Papyrus scratched at his metacarpals nervously. “It’s an unofficial matter, but I am uncertain if you are able to help me.”

 

A smile cracked on Gerson’s face.

 

“If it’s anythin’ fer m’boys, Imma do my very best,” he assured him. Smiling sadly, Papyrus brushed at his brow ridge.

 

“Thank you,” he uttered gratefully.

 

“Now,” Gerson grinned encouragingly, “what’s it this ol’ tortoise can do fer ya?”

 

“I’m looking for information unavailable to me at the Librarby,” he disclosed. Though he chose not to go there first, Papyrus knew they wouldn’t have the material he was searching for. “I was hoping you might have what I need.” Gerson smirked, pleased at such a simple task.

 

“I still have those old texts you used ta rifle through if y’wanna give’em a gander.”

 

“Oh!” Papyrus’ face lit up. “Where have you stowed them?”

 

“Where else?” Gerson laughed. “Yer old room!” Trying to maintain a stiff composure, Papyrus failed as he practically skipped to where he used to stay. 

 

When he and Sans had grown too much to occupy the same quarters, (and after much begging and pleading/demanding that they be separated,) Gerson had them practice their blue magic by helping him clean out and organize the spare barrel and book storerooms, respectively. The leftover dusty drums in Sans’ room were used for personal storage, while Papyrus had shelves for the excess of books that remained. 

 

There was much to read, and since Papyrus did most of the manual labor, he preferred to rest by reading whatever material he could after all the work was done.

 

“Do you have...anything in specific?” Papyrus asked, tentatively looking around.

 

“What cha have in mind, Russet?” Gerson lumbered behind him. Not wanting to get his hopes up, Papyrus bit at his teeth.

 

“Anything on Temmies?” Gerson blinked in surprise.

 

“Now why’d ya need that fur?” he nudged. “Y’wanna learn bout their rich hist’ry too?”

 

“Why, of course.” The old tortoise’s brow wrinkled, and he tried his best to frown as he stifled a laugh. “It’s very important,” Papyrus added, failing to hide his smile. If he had known he’d be searching for information about Temmies, he’d be amused at his circumstance too. But if he could research and gather what he could about them, they were a few steps away from learning how to deal with them. Forest Temmies or not.

 

“Why, no one’s been interested in that since they established themselves that little nook in Waterfall!” Gerson laughed aloud.

 

“It’s quite relevant now,” Papyrus exclaimed as Gerson’s laugh quieted.  “As they are the other reason why I came to visit today.”

 

“Temmies?” Gerson questioned, seemingly confused. Papyrus nodded.

 

“A rogue pack of Temmies, to be exact.” The look on Gerson’s face devolved into one quite befuddled and perplexed. 

 

“A rogue what?” Gerson squinted, as Papyrus repeated his statement. 

 

“A rogue pack of Temmies.”

 

“Out in Snowdin?” the old tortoise uttered in disbelief. 

 

“Yes.”

 

“But...why would—”

 

“That’s why I was hoping to read through their history,” Papyrus explained. “There might be a reason as to how they ended up that far from home. The only reason we were able to identify them at all was because they shared some of the base characteristics of the other Temmies. Otherwise, they certainly didn’t act anything like the ones in Waterfall. Not once did they exhibit the usual chatter they are prone to spouting. Not once did we hear anything but the barks and howls of a common dog.” Brows ruffling, Gerson looked down in thought.

 

“This’s all very odd,” he relayed, “Temmies are their own branch of canid monsters, but to exhibit such behavior…” Gerson glanced up at Papyrus, his brows knitting with worry. “I don’t know how it will help you, but Temmie history hasn’t always been properly recorded. Not in the way you’d think.”

 

“You mean outside of written text?” Papyrus fished, “Books? If not, I would very much appreciate anything else you have to offer.” Gerson’s frown deepened.

 

“As their own species of monster, Temmies do have a rich history, but Temmies aren’t really ones ta write it. Nor are they ones ta allow outside monsters to either. And even if there were, if it’s not currently being written by me, either they haven’t held up as well as I over the years, or it’s held within the private collection of th’Tem College.” The crease between Papyrus’ brow ridges intensified.

 

“Temmies have their own college?? ” At Gerson’s nod, Papyrus coughed, “So—”

 

“So the only certain source of information y’can get is through tha Temmies themselves.” Papyrus had hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but now he had no choice. “I can set ya up with their acting representative if ya need,” his father figure continued. “They’ll wanna hear what y’shared with me. Iffin yer up fer it.” 

 

Nervously wringing his hands, Papyrus nodded firmly. If this was the only way, he’d venture into their ghetto to learn it. Even if it meant having to spend all night boiling eggs to fend off any beggars. He’d do it.

 

“And what by chance,” he asked, “is this Temmie’s name?” Gerson chuckled, a twinkle in his eye.

 

“They go by Bob.”

Notes:

Papyrus is a good son and tries to visit their guardian when he can, because Gerson isn’t that grumpy, he’s just old as heck. He just wants to run his shop, make pies, and collect written documentation of monster history. And if his boys are around well, it’d just be a little more fun.

Additional tags that were too long to include with the rest: The Boom Shopkeep Family has expanded by one member, nothing like another reptile in Waterfall eeyup, crabapple hunting: a thrilling as well as somewhat dangerous past time if you’re caught ill-equipped, feel free to call out my bullshit I haven't actually managed a store only worked in one

Chapter 10

Summary:

Conversations continue and ensue. Sans gets to do a bit of teasing himself.

Notes:

This chapter and the ones following afterward have been a struggle to write, not just because I’ve begun integrating more character development beyond just the brothers (it’s Wally, guys. I got too attached, fuck.) but also because I realized the events I had planned needed a lot more fleshing out than I thought. Not to mention how much I’ve personally changed since I’ve started writing this.

I know a lot of you really like this story, and I’ve had my fair share of frustrations in and around it (part of me wants to go back a bit and grammatically correct my writing back then haha, well uh—I might go do that.) so I’m not giving up on it entirely. It’s just become more than I initially thought it would be. The plot has flowed in a different way and though I’m fine going with the new current, I’m uncertain if everyone else will be too. I mean, this was supposed to be about the Fell bros and an expansion of their universe! It’s drifting further away from our dear skeleton boys the more I write, but it’s still taking me somewhere I hope you all will still like.

I appreciate all of you and your support despite my shortcomings and exceedingly long, unreliable posting times. Y’all are great. :’)

First Forest Temmies, now Waterfall Temmies. Papyrus frowned as he made his way to the storefront. Temmies shouldn’t be taking up this much of his time, but this visit was potentially important. Essentially important. It could provide them answers they were not initially looking for! If not answers they were hoping to find!

 

Question was, when was he going to find the time to visit that hovel of theirs?

 

Papyrus sighed begrudgingly as he calculated how much of their budget could go toward buying vittles to stave off the grubby canid masses. If he didn’t find much for their pantry today, he could most likely use quite a bit.

 

Wally was busy with a customer when Papyrus emerged from the back. They eyed him briefly as he observed them, not unkindly.

 

“Thank you so much fer yer interest,” Wally chirped, as they handed their customer an informational leaflet. (Where did they even have those beforehand? Why didn’t Papyrus get one?) “Thank you fer coming in, have a nice day!” They waved their customer away as they left, and exhaled a breath before glancing Papyrus’ way.

 

“You seem like you’ve done this before,” he commented.

 

“How couldja tell?” Wally smirked.

 

“I have eyes?”

 

“Y’just said earlier ya didn’t!” they laughed aloud.

 

“I technically don’t,” he grinned smugly.

 

“Bullshit,” Wally retorted. “Then waddya call those eye holes on your face?”

 

“Sockets,” Papyrus provided quite helpfully. Wally squinted one eye as they gave him a brief sneer of disbelief.

 

“Y’got those, don’t cha?” 

 

“Yes, but the presence of them does not mean I have physical eyes,” Papyrus continued his bit. Wally stared at him a moment before realization lit in their eyes. The look on their face gave way to something between excitement and knowing a secret.

 

“Gerson told me a story one time of a youngin’ trying on his spectacles and declaring they wanted ta be just like’im. ” A smirk played about the corner of their lip. “Now, I don’t mean ta speculate, but perchance did he mean... you ?” Turning a visible shade of red, Papyrus turned away from them. “I knew it!” Wally cackled.

 

“I don’t have ears so I have to tape them to my skull,” he muttered.

 

“Y’have ta what?!” they laughed delightedly. “How does that even work if yer basic’lly looking through lights?”

 

“How do you think it works with how you use magic to enhance your vision?” Papyrus defended.

 

Stars, when was the last time Papyrus actually opened himself this much to practically a stranger? This was highly unusual, even for Papyrus on a good day. 

 

“Wait,” Wally beamed with realization, “izzat why it looks like yer squinting all tha time?” they teased, jogging him from his thoughts. “Why don’t cha wear’em?”

 

“IT WOULD RUIN MY IMAGE!” Papyrus protested, clearly mortified at the mere implication. “Name one Guard that wears glasses out on duty and perhaps I will consider the notion!” Wally whistled.

 

“That bad, huh? Tell ya what.” They pushed their tall frame off the counter a moment. “When y’get tha chance ta show me, I’ll tell y’my opinion.” Papyrus studied their face, honestly hoping they were joking.

 

“Is...that a threat or a well-meaning gesture?” Wally let out a sudden laugh.

 

“The fact yer even considering that appalls me!”

 

“Most monsters I’ve just met don’t tend to squeeze my personal secrets out of me that easily,” Papyrus countered.

 

“Well I’m clearly not like most monsters,” Wally leaned forward and batted their eyes at him, “am I?” Papyrus could have sworn his entire face flushed several shades redder.

 

“Wh—are you flirting with me?” 

 

“No!” they laughed good-naturedly, drawing away. “Didn’t realize yer so fun ta mess with! Y’get flustered easy fer a Guard.”

 

“In-Training,” Papyrus corrected.

 

“When do they consider ya official?” they asked, confused.

 

“The Program allows us to work within our assigned division until we have merited enough experience to join permanently, or until they find a division best suited for us.”

 

“So...like an internship? Do ya at least get paid ?”

 

“Oh yes, but my brother supplements it by picking up odd jobs. It’s enough to live on but not enough to thoroughly save, you understand?”

 

“Glad yer well-off,” they huffed, “Not many get the luxury of both a good job and a home. Assuming y’got one?” Papyrus’ brow ridges knitted.

 

“There are barracks for those who truly need it, but otherwise yes, we indeed have a home on-site.” The brief smile on Wally’s face didn’t seem to reach their eyes. 

 

“What’s th’neighborhood like,” they asked. “In Snowdin, I mean.”

 

“Care to clarify?”

 

“Is it like what you’d expect,” Wally shrugged. “When I think of Snowdin, it’s cold, calm, inviting,” they described wistfully. “Like those Surface tins that have those pictures of snowed-over cottages with tha soft lights barely peeking from tha windows?”

 

“I may have seen those before,” Papyrus hooked a thumb to his mental foramen. “Gerson would sell those to the innkeeper lady from the Snowdin Lodge in exchange for cinnamon.” He grinned at the recollection. “It was a reliable source to acquire one of the titular ingredients for his pie. And it gave her cinnamon buns a festive decoration for when she required them during Gyftmas.” 

 

“Already sounds like a pretty picture,” Wally sighed dreamily.

 

“But I can see what you mean,” Papyrus steered back on topic. “Snowdin is one of the nicer districts to live in. The company isn’t as cold as its surroundings, after all,” he winked. A jolt of laughter caught Papyrus off-guard.

 

“How are ya even doing that with yer face??” Wally half-yelled, wide-eyed and clearly analyzing the mechanics of his bone structure now. “Like—what tha hell—” Partially offended, Papyrus put a hand to his sternum.

 

“Well how do you do things with your face?” he retorted.

 

“My face isn’t entirely bone,” they remarked.

 

“If you weren’t so charming I would be calling you rude!” Papyrus replied lightheartedly.

 

“Do—” they stumbled upon their words as another laugh rang through them, “—do other monsters just. Not talk about how absurd it is?”

 

“I wouldn’t blame them really,” Papyrus dismissed the notion with a shrug. “Sans and I are the only two skeletons they see on a daily basis. Perhaps they’ve gotten used to us.” He eyed them with a comically crooked frown. “ You on the other hand...” They snickered, and Papyrus half-expected Wally to burst out laughing again.

 

“‘m sorry,” they apologized, mouth curled into a smirk to try and hold back another snicker. “We don’t got skinless folk where I’m from so— ‘s kinda new ta me, y’know?”

 

“Understandable,” Papyrus allowed. “As we do not have many reptilians in Waterfall. But you don’t see me gawking at you now, do you?”

 

“Well, y’got Gerson,” Wally gestured with an open hand. 

 

“Besides Gerson,” Papyrus corrected. “Most of the reptilians I’ve seen frequently choose to dwell in the warmer areas,” he explained. “They clearly don’t see a need to reside in Waterfall.” Wally rolled their eyes.

 

“I needed a change of scenery,” they admitted, while Papyrus nodded in understanding.

 

“Hotland is the worst.”

 

“Right? ” they agreed aloud with a slight chuckle to their voice. “If ya think Hotland’s bad, y'should check out the Capital.” Papyrus visibly winced.

 

“Ugh,” his nasal ridge scrunched at the memory. “I’m glad I only ever have to venture there once a millennia.” Wally grinned lightly.

 

“You don’t seem the type ta willingly suffer,” they chuckled, “then again, ’m only going by what I see.”

 

“I only go when I have no other option,” Papyrus provided, “nothing more.” Wally nodded solemnly.

 

“Business then,” they guessed.

 

“Of course,” Papyrus replied.

 

“Better be some important stuff then ta have’em drag ya out there,” they smirked.

 

“It’s more bearable with company,” Papyrus replied with his own smirk. Wally cocked their head thoughtfully.

 

“Yeah,” they replied with a light grin, “sounds about right.” They leaned forward, hand at their chin. “Y’headed out now?” 

 

“Goodness no,” Papyrus shook his head. “I still have shopping to do.”

 

“How d’ya even eat ?” Wally exclaimed, “Y’got no organs!”

 

“Excuse me? ” Papyrus’ face scrunched. “Why would you ask such an invasive question?”

 

“It’s just so interesting! ” Wally dragged their fingers down their face. “And ‘m getting all riled up just thinking bout it!”

 

“I’ll be sure to educate your ignorance another time,” Papyrus rolled his eyelights.

 

“Oh, like a date?” they playfully batted their eyes at him.

 

“Clearly not!” he frowned in offense. “I swear you’re just as bad as Sans,” he muttered under his breath. 

 

“Oh hey, before I forget!” Wally reached behind the counter and reproduced Papyrus’ shopping basket. Blinking with surprise, Papyrus looked briefly where he had left it to see the space empty. Oh. “Don’t usually save things fer customers but y’were kinda distracted so…” He smiled appreciatively at Wally.

 

“Thank you,” he replied, as he retrieved it from them.

 

“Couldn’t help but notice yer ingredients,” they commented. “Y’ever thought of adding some dried mushroom morsels fer added flavor?” Papyrus eyed them suspiciously.

 

“You don’t mean glowing mushrooms, do you?” he hazarded a guess.

 

“Oh not at all,” Wally shook their head. “I mean those tiny plastic packages from the Surface. When they’re not waterlogged, the meaty bits’re pretty tasty.” Curious, Papyrus leaned forward.

 

“Do you experiment in the kitchen as well?”

 

“I wouldn’t say I’m any good,” they confessed, “but I hear my food’s at least edible.”

 

“Has Gerson taught you?”

 

“Oh uh, kinda. I knew how ta cook from an old friend a mine, but training under Gerson taught me ‘bout the fermenting process so I’d sometimes try ta pickle when I can.”

 

“Fascinating,” Papyrus leaned back, nodding.

 

“Gerson lets me use ingredients that’re about ta spoil if no one buys’em in time too,” they brought up. “Makes fer fun meals on m'lunches.” Papyrus’ sockets widened almost as much as they did when he learned their common hatred of Hotland.

 

“You JEST!” he half-yelled. “WHAT DO YOU DO WITH THE FAILURES?”

 

“Waddya mean failures?” Wally chuckled, “I eat whatever I make. Nothing goes ta waste with this waist.” They gestured proudly to their aproned abdomen. Papyrus had to fight to stifle his snicker.

 

“Where else does it go?” he added playfully, “to your thighs?”

 

“Of course!” they agreed, “how else d’ya think they’re so beefy?”

 

“Because you’re a naturally muscular creature?” he offered with a smirk.

 

“Yep that too,” they nodded, “but I was thinking cuz I used ta crush boulders b’tween’em.” Papyrus shook his head with amused disbelief.

 

“If you ever tried Undyne’s routine you might as well put her to shame,” he sniggered.

 

“Being compared ta the Great Captain Undyne already?” they beamed proudly, “why, that’s already a compliment!” Midway through a chuckle Papyrus realized his phone was ringing.

 

“Oh, beg pardon,” he excused himself.

 

“Go on ahead,” Wally waved their hand, “Could be important.” Striding a short distance away, Papyrus answered the call.

 

“Yes?”  

 

“hey boss—” Sans. Perhaps he had news to share? “—i know what undyne said about us not goin’ inta the woods, but ya really need ta see this in person.” There was an underlying quiver in his voice, like he was trying to stifle his nervousness with a brave tone.

 

“What is it?” Papyrus frowned, holding the phone up to his acoustic meatus.

 

“here,” Sans offered, somewhat hastily. “gimme a sec ta get ya.”

 

“Wait—not here—” he protested, “meet me outside the shop.” Papyrus heard him pause.

 

“uh...okay.” The nervous urgency seemed to dissipate with his confusion. “isn’t it too early ta be shopping?” Papyrus rolled his eyelights.

 

“Have you seen the contents of our refrigerator?” he hissed, “there’s nothing edible left.”

 

“not if ya count condiments!” Sans’ laugh sounded like he had pushed away the anxious undertones Papyrus heard. Perhaps the subject of  his worry was not so pressing?

 

“I am not stooping to your level of debauchery!”

 

“hey,” Sans shot back, “food’s food if ya get past the gag reflex.”

 

“We don’t have the muscular structure to even house it! Besides,” he added with a purr, “wouldn’t that mean you’d rather quench your appetite with... other methods of fluid intake?” He could have sworn he heard Sans nearly choke on his own spittle.

 

“w-where’d ya say y’were boss?” he asked with a slight sputter.

 

“Gerson’s,” Papyrus smirked.

 

“sh-shouldn’t you be more...discreet? ” Papyrus scoffed.

 

“Oh please, Sans, it’s not like I’m spewing off in front of polite company.”

 

“What’s that make me if I’m not polite company?” Wally called out, curious. Blinking, Papyrus jerked around, realizing they were still three feet away from him near the counter.

 

“who was that?” Sans asked, voice slightly lilting with curiosity.

 

“Just a worker,” Papyrus quickly replied. Sans was saying something but Papyrus didn’t really hear. “And I’ll have you know,” he said more to Wally, “you’re better than what most others consider ‘polite.’” They threw him a frown that screamed they begged to differ, and snorted.

 

“So long’s ya don’t think me a cheap whore,” they jibed back.

 

“Shouldn’t you be on the lookout for potential customers?” Papyrus asked exasperatedly, covering the receiving end of his phone with his hand.

 

“Yer my only customer!” they retorted with a laugh. “Step outside and maybe I’ll give ya a breather!”

 

“Perhaps I will,” Papyrus tossed his head dramatically.

 

“Would look cooler if ya had hair,” they snorted lightheartedly.

 

“You’ll just have to settle for my cool scarf instead,” Papyrus noted, taking his momentary leave.

 

—

 

“whoever that was, i kinda like’em.” Papyrus whirled around to see Sans leaning against the left side of the entrance.

 

“WHEN DID YOU GET HERE?!”

 

“just like, a second ago,” Sans shrugged, pushing himself off it. “‘sides they sound like fun if they can rile y’up like that,” he winked. Papyrus groaned. As if Sans wasn’t bad enough.

 

“Remember when Gerson said he’d hire a new employee?” Sans cocked his head, interested.

 

“oh, zat them?” Papyrus smirked.

 

“You are free to introduce yourself if your present matter is not so pressing.” Sans considered this momentarily. 

 

“ well, ” he replied, drawing out the e, “still gotta say hi to the old gerse while i’m here. obligatory greetings if anything.” Papyrus smiled.

 

“Aww, Sans. When’s the last time you’ve seen him?” 

 

“give or take a few years?” Sans looked at the cave ceiling in thought. “why?”

 

“He’s a...starting to show his age a bit,” Papyrus commented sheepishly. Sans rolled his eyelights.

 

“as if he can’t get much older.”

 

“Sans I’m serious, Gerson’s one of the oldest monsters we know. While we have the opportunity, it may be best to discuss matters of the future with him.”

 

“papyrus don’t tell me yer gonna try and get a will outta him right this minute.”

 

“I’m not saying that, I just—”

 

“look, i ain’t gonna take over his shop. ‘s not right to while he’s still so spritely. besides,” Sans sighed, “i don’t even wanna think about it.” Papyrus paused, conjured tongue running nervously about the inside of his teeth.

 

“We don’t have to,” he conceded. “But will you at least keep it in mind?”

 

“only thing i wanna keep in mind is seeing how the old bastard’s doing,” Sans grinned. Papyrus gasped in offense.

 

“You don’t call him that even jokingly!” he interjected.

 

“aw c’mon bro,” Sans flashed his gold tooth at him, “life’s too short ta not fuck around with ya once in a while.” Papyrus frowned.

 

“The only ‘fucking’ that should be happening between us is in the bedroom,” he countered with a smirk, “Brother.” Flushing red, Sans turned briefly to the door.

 

“y’always know how ta trip me up, don’t cha paps?” he chuckled nervously. 

 

“You’re quite cute when you’re flustered,” Papyrus rumbled, stepping closer.

 

“yeah, well, y’wanted ta do this at home, right?” Sans reached behind him and caught Papyrus by the illiac crests. Dragging him closer, Sans lifted his rear just enough to tease at Papyrus’ groin. “guess yer just gonna hafta wait,” he eyed him with the barest hint of magic smoking from his ignited eyelight.

 

Sans stepped inside, pleased to have been the one to tease for once, as Papyrus took a moment to compose himself.

 

Oh how he wanted him. How Papyrus wanted to drag Sans back and fuck him against the wall this very instance.

 

But no, they were so close. Just one more moment longer here and they could venture home together at last. Then they could do whatever they wanted with each other. Then they didn’t need to be quiet, or gentle, or—

 

Papyrus seethed momentarily, and exhaled slowly. It would all have to wait. Papyrus caught the door before it closed and followed Sans inside.

 

“Welcome!” Wally chimed, then they saw Papyrus again. “Oh? Back so soon?” they smirked. “Thought y’were done with me fer the day.”

 

“Well, I had an unexpected arrangement,” he smiled crookedly, gesturing to Sans.

 

“‘m sans,” he offered a hand to the lizard. 

 

“Uh...Wally,” they shook his hand, somewhat confused. They glanced at Papyrus and then briefly back at the skeleton in front of them. “OH! ” they gasped, “this is—” Papyrus nodded.

 

“My brother,” he introduced, with a polite smile, and hoping to the Stars that the dusting of red on his zygomatic processes had all but gone. 

 

“Nice ta meet cha,” they began again, with a more enthusiastic handshake.

 

“likewise,” Sans chuckled. “y’sounded like someone i wanted the pleasure ta be acquainted to.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“not many can get a rise from the great and terrible papyrus,” he smirked.

 

“That what you usually call yerself?” they eyed Papyrus with a hint of bemusement.

 

“It’s—It’s respectable,” he replied, unprepared for more flattery, suddenly so embarrassed at the attention. Sans’ dating manual made it sound so much easier to impress people when they were in a group, but one person?

 

“Uh huh,” Wally smirked, balancing their chin in their hand. “Bet all the dogs are just all over it.”

 

“hey— don’t tease him!” Sans interrupted with a laugh, “that’s my job!”

 

“Mmhm,” Wally continued, now smiling behind their fingers. “Wouldn’t want ta anger The Great and Terrible Sir Skeleton Papyrus,” they spoke slowly, the words carefully rolling off their tongue with punctuated clarity—making Papyrus sound so much grander than he usually did.

 

“Ah—” If Papyrus had ears, he’d have steam coming out of them from the sheer pressure of flustered energy.

 

“wally quit it, yer makin’ him blush! ” Sans cut it, trying and failing to contain his laughter.

 

“No, go on, this is exactly what I want to hear!” Papyrus protested, standing straighter in an attempt to push his embarrassment through the floor with a stomp. “This is exactly how I want others to view me, Sans!” Wally practically spat out a laugh.

 

“Oh Sweetie, if y’want that kinda attention I can refer ya ta some other places—”

 

“oh no. noooo thank you,” Sans politely declined. “if it’s where i’m thinking yer thinking, then i’ll hafta refuse fer both our sakes.” 

 

“Aww why not?” Wally shrugged innocently, nudging Sans, “y’look like one ta spend time in seedy places.”

 

“i do,” Sans clarified. “but he doesn’t.”

 

“I don’t need you to speak for me—” Papyrus protested, only to be thoroughly interrupted.

 

“Ohhh,” Wally drew out the word, eyelids hooded as they purposefully batted their eyes. “then you wouldn’t mind?” Sans cocked a brow ridge. Was that a smolder in their irises?

 

Stars they just met too and he was already getting hit on? What the heck—were they playing Sans at his own game? It didn’t help that he had just come from an emotional high a few moments ago. The adrenalin still lingered within him. Sans still felt the need to tease Papyrus into oblivion.

 

“don’t tempt me sweetheart,” Sans growled, a hint of agitated magic in his words, “‘m already spoken for.” The lizard blinked a moment before they burst out laughing, dispelling the cloud of tension that had hung over the three of them.

 

“Yer too funny, Bonehead,” Wally choked between coughs and laughter. “Good ta know there are good folk out here.” Sans gave Papyrus a confused look.

 

“I have reason to believe they’re originally from the Capital,” Papyrus provided. Sans nodded in understanding before walking away from the register.

 

“hey,” Sans smoothly peeked under the halved curtain separating the storefront and the back. “where’s the old tortoise at?” he asked, turning to face Wally. They took a breath to compose themself.

 

“Y’wanna talk with the Boss?”

 

“just wanna say hi,” Sans shook his head. “been a while since i seen him.”

 

“Y’got former shopkeep privileges too?” Wally angled their head, slightly nodding in Papyrus’ direction, “y’can probably check back there yerself.”

 

“Last I saw, he was in the kitchen,” Papyrus supplicated. Sans nodded.

 

“alrighty,” he grinned. “imma check on’im then. don’t have too much fun without me,” he winked before sidling on in.

 

Before he could get too far, Sans heard a muffled sputter as the curtain fell behind him.

 

“HE CAN DO THAT TOO?!”

 

“Who do you think I learned it from??” Equally as bemused and confused by the banter, Sans shook his head and continued on his way.

 

--

 

The pleasant smell of pie still clung to the cave walls as Sans ventured further into their old abode. He touched a few phalanges to the roughly carved rock that made up the hall and sighed. He shouldn’t have waited so long to visit, but now was better than much too late. 

 

Monsters who never had offspring age in a gentle way, slowly and comfortably. In Gerson’s case it’s almost doubled his lifespan. The old tortoise never mentioned having kids before he took the brothers in, but even then, he never left the shop much anymore. Gerson physically couldn’t visit them as easily as they could him. It was a wonder how the old tortoise got through life as long as he did, considering the events that brought monsters to their current state of affairs. As Gerson was already so long-lived, he was already an exception among the general monster community. 

 

Sans knew for a fact Gerson was the oldest monster alive. Sans also knew that situating himself as a shopkeep protected him. Why else would he set up a shop after he retired? Only monsters actively selling anything were immune to fights and chance encounters with the wrong people. Gerson was a constant since he took them in, and to imagine life without him was soul-rending. So to have any sort of security at all was a blessing, and Sans hoped many long years awaited Gerson. 

 

Wouldn’t it be something though, if the old tortoise outlived them all?

 

--

 

To see him washing up, with half a pie still on the table invoked old memories of walking in to surprise Papyrus with a cake Sans bought with his allowance money, of showing Gerson his progress on the lesson book he was reading, of proudly displaying his first ever summon with bright eyelights and a longing for praise.

 

Sans blinked away tears he didn’t realize he shed. He never thought he’d held so much emotion back like that. To have it all in front of him again was almost strange.

 

Gerson turned off the water with a squeak and patted his hands down with a towel before turning around.

 

“Oh—” he started, only in slight surprise. “Norland? Back from yer date so soon?”

 

“wasn’t on one,” Sans chuckled. “wanted ta see ya while i was here.” A smile grew on Gerson’s face as he shuffled toward the nearest chair.

 

“Have time ta sit?” Sans eyed the chair he used to sit in, a small smile creasing the bone of his face.

 

“yeah,” he replied. “i do.”

 

—

 

“I’m a little curious,” Wally stated. “When y’were working here, what did y’both end up doing?” Papyrus put down the can he was inspecting. 

 

“As in what were our other responsibilities?”

 

“Yeah, like, since there were two a ya, y’both had ta divide th’work somehow right? Didja work in tha back a lot?” Papyrus blinked. 

 

“I ah...we took turns really,” he explained. “I liked to organize our inventory and Sans preferred the front. He was quite persuasive if I may say so myself.”

 

“Heh. What’d he get’em ta buy?”

 

“Oh, he’d appear out of nowhere while I’m in the midst of a conversation with a customer to casually interrupt with a sea tea or with a caged crabapple snipping at the bars.” Papyrus chuckled at the memory. “He’d always find some way to get them to buy things. Like, once he claimed that crabapples could make good pets.” 

 

“What the heck—” Wally laughed aloud. “They aren’t though!”

 

“They really aren’t,” Papyrus smiled, shaking his head in agreement. “Sans always had this way of explaining their effects that he thoroughly swayed anyone within a three foot radius. He’d also find some way to wiggle in sea tea’s rejuvenating properties, as well as its speed-boosting capabilities.” 

 

“I mean, he’s not wrong,” Wally grinned. “The newer recipe’s upped the effects a both by a few more ticks.” Papyrus blinked.

 

“Really? ” Wally nodded. 

 

“Instead of 10 HP, it heals fer 15 with heightened senses. Depending on which flavor of course.” Intrigued, Papyrus stared at them. Smirking, Wally cocked their head. “But I’ll leave off on th’effects fer when we start selling’em.” Scoffing in mock disappointment, Papyrus rolled his eyelights.

 

“Have it your way, then,” he waved his hand dismissively. “I’ll have to wait like any other patron for the reveal.”

 

“Damn straight y’do,” Wally cackled. Chuckling, Papyrus idly picked up a different can and examined the label. Another can of beans. Did Humans just—throw out all their beans? Did they really have nothing else to do with them?

 

“Yer bro’s a real charmer,” Wally remarked, jotting down a quick note on their notepad. Papyrus smiled to himself.

 

“Still is,” he agreed. “Seems to be the only useful trait he kept after we moved out.”

 

“Living on yer own’ll do that ta ya,” Wally concurred. “I remember when I first left Hotland with—” they hesitated, as if they accidentally bit their tongue. “—my friend,” they continued. “He uh,” a light chuckle escaped from their lips. “He kept tellin’ me I had ta bring more ta wear cuz a the temperature changes and—” they smiled more to themself. “—I didn’t believe him.” Wally looked up so their eyes were level with Papyrus’. “I’ve always lived in hot places, so it was a real shock when I learned how chillier it is here in Waterfall.”

 

“Is...that why you’re still here?” Papyrus asked, “so you could acclimate yourself?” Wally grinned.

 

“Y’could say that. Dal—” they blinked as if remembering something, then decided against it. “—I have Gerson ta thank fer mosta my sweaters.”

 

“I’m amazed none of them have giant holes in the back,” Papyrus snickered. “with his shell and all.”

 

“Actually, none of those have backs,” Wally admitted, “or at least, they button up and zip where they can but uh...they don’t fit so proper, y’know? So I just kinda make do with whatever I can find. I mean, when I had time ta scavenge fer myself in th’Dump.” Papyrus’s head bobbed in understanding.

 

“If you need, Sans can probably make, if not customize something for you,” he offered. “He still has a bag of scrap fabric he still needs to use up.”

 

“Oh uh— ‘m fine!” Wally chuckled sheepishly, “wouldn’t wanna impose er nothing.”

 

“Nonsense,” Papyrus insisted, “he’s been meaning to get through that pile since we moved out. Besides,” he grinned, “I think he’d like that. Gerson and I can’t be the only recipients of his creations.” Wally swallowed.

 

“I’ll ah, think about it,” they replied sheepishly, “okay?”

 

“Who knows?” Papyrus chuckled, “perhaps he’ll make you something useful with all those scraps.” Wally eyed him wistfully as Papyrus continued perusing. 

 

“Would he want anything back?” They inquired nervously. Papyrus peeked from behind a shelf.

 

“It’s not unheard of for him to accept payment, but it’s only if you’re willing.” Papyrus picked up a can to immediately put it back, a moment of disgust in his face. “Why don’t you ask him yourself? Only if you’re interested, of course.”

 

A hum escaped through Wally’s partial frown.

 

“What’s he made?”

 

“Sans has altered most of the clothes in our home,” Papyrus informed them proudly. “He made me these gloves,” he waved one at Wally, but then realized they probably couldn’t see. Striding closer, he brought it up to them. “See?” The wide smile on his face made Wally return it.

 

“D’aww,” they eyed it appreciatively. “That’s real sweet of him.”

 

“He also custom-made my armor,” Papyrus straightened to his full height, despite being visibly shorter than Wally.

 

“Is that so?” They commented politely. “Looks homemade, but durable. Was the sweater his work too?” Papyrus automatically fingered the purple fabric.

 

“The sweater, no,” he admitted, “but Sans did repair it. Read up on how from a book he scavenged from the Dump.”

 

“Sounds like a real handy guy,” Wally smiled.

 

“When he’s not sleeping at every other waking hour,” Papyrus huffed. Wally tittered.

 

“Glad ta know y’get along,” they grinned. “From what I’ve heard of siblings and all. Don’t got any m’self.”

 

“You can say we’re close,” Papyrus grinned knowingly, waggling his brow ridges.

 

“Yer doin’ that thing again!” Wally laughed aloud, “what tha hell!” 

 

“You’ll just have to get used to it,” Papyrus clicked his tongue.

 

“How are y’making that noise without a goddamn tongue?!” Papyrus frowned, taken aback.

 

“I too have a tongue—” he demonstrated, by sticking it out at them. “When I feel like it!”

 

“What tha hell—” Wally cringed, “how do you burn a magic tongue on hot pie?”

 

“On accident, of course,” Papyrus jibed flatly. Wally’s face scrunched.

 

“You know what I mean,” they scoffed.

 

“Why are you so interested?” Papyrus finally asked. “Is me being a skeleton just so novel to you that you have no filter?”

 

“All my life, ‘ve been told everything’s just the way they are, but I have so many questions! With not enough people willing ta answer.” They smiled wistfully at him. “Seeing as how yer so ready and willing, figured I’d ask while y’were.” Papyrus blinked.

 

“Oh. I—Uh...never thought anyone would be interested in learning about basic functionalities of my magical makeup.”

 

“Well,” Wally laughed, “least yer not tryna stealthily seduce me.” Papyrus’ sockets visibly widened as his brow ridges furrowed.

 

“Why does this even matter? The only thing I can see you as is a potential friend. I am not interested in anything beyond that.”

 

“Oh thank fuck—” Wally visibly slumped with relief. “Y’got no idea how many occasional assholes try ta get inta my pants. I mean, being behind the counter helps a shit load, but still they try. I mean, I can beat’em down easy, but I wouldn’t wanna worry Gerson.”

 

“Being behind any sort of counter is both a blessing as well as a curse,” Papyrus commented. “The trade itself is not for just anyone.”

 

“Yer tellin’ me,” Wally sighed. There was a brief pause between the two before they spoke up. “Hey,” Wally smugly smiled, “if I call ya up, wouldja come to the rescue?”

 

“If there was trouble at the store?”

 

“Yeah,” they nodded. “How fast could a Guard-in-training like you get here?” Papyrus’ skull tilted upward in thought.

 

“Depending on my method of transportation and if I were caught in the middle of something, I would suspect it would take me less than an hour.” Wally blinked, surprised.

 

“Damn, really?”

 

“That would be if I ran from my home in Snowdin to the store,” Papyrus replied, “I’ve timed myself.”

 

“Glad ta know there’s someone here I can count on,” Wally smiled gratefully. “y’never know these days who y’can really trust, y’know?” Papyrus nodded. 

 

“I know all too well.”

 

“Don’t got a phone m’self, but I got the landline,” Wally tapped their notepad with their pen. “Gerson got ya on the list?” Papyrus blinked. Were they…asking for his number?

 

“Gerson isn’ t one to use phones much,” he admitted. Wally squinted briefly.

 

“So that’s why I get stuck with all the calls—” they hiss under their breath in realization. Then to Papyrus, “Well, all the better I get yer digits yeah?”

 

“You are not one to idly gossip at inconsistent times of the day cycle are you?” Papyrus asked suspiciously, “Because other than this deliberately long encounter, I am usually quite busy.” Wally laughed aloud.

 

“Waddya take me for? Nah! I just figured fer just in case, yeah?” Their smile was wide, friendly, joshing. “C’mon now, I ain’t like those other shopkeeps that spam their customers with deals every goddamn hour. I’m one a those…” they glance at the ceiling as if to think up a better analogy. “Once-in-a-while callers.”

 

“Like we are once-in-a-while shoppers?” Papyrus cocked his head. 

 

“Yeah! But like—when y’come enough ta be considered a regular!” Papyrus thought briefly of their statement.

 

“I may know what you mean,” he grinned knowingly. 

 

“Though uh—” Wally interrupted their sentence with a sudden pause. “Think old Gerse would like it a lot better if ya come more often,” they veered off-topic. “If I may speak outta turn,” they leaned forward, and Papyrus found he did likewise. “That’s the happiest I’ve seen him in a while.”

 

Papyrus’ gaze stayed on their green eyes. They seemed serious, imploring. 

 

“How has he been otherwise?” Papyrus managed to ask.

 

“Well,” Wally straightened slightly, “y’know the boss just as well as me,” they shrugged. “He likes ta keep busy. A little too busy if ya know what I mean.” Papyrus smiled fondly.

 

“All things considered, I think he’s starting to slow down even if for a few days of the week,” he observed.

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Wally chuckled, “but I’m talking beyond the store though. Gerson seems ta keep ta himself. Sure, he tells stories. Sure, he’s got a lot on his plate and runs us both ragged when we’re suddenly busy—” their tone shifted when they sighed. “—but God it’s so easy ta see how much he cares so much about th’both a ya. I mean, he literally let me take m’break early so we could like converse . Like I was invited ta some family table er something.”

 

“Are you not family to him?” Papyrus asked. Wally gave him a look, brows knitted.

 

“Well uh, not really,” they replied. “I’m technically employed, yeah? There’s a boss/employee barrier.”

 

“Gerson seems to think otherwise,” Papyrus noted. 

 

“Wait wait what was I saying—” Wally rapped at their head, short purple locks bouncing slightly at the movement. “—oh yeah—anyway, he’s never done that before! And like, maybe it’s cuz we hadn’t crossed paths until now, but it’s like he was waiting fer ya ta show up. Like he’s waiting fer ya ta come home.”

 

Papyrus stared at them. They were getting at something, but when he didn’t say anything, Wally frowned as they held his gaze. “He misses you, alright?” Wally blurted. “Got some reason he don’t wanna say it straight ta m’face, but I can feel it exude outta him like ooze from a goddamn slime.” Their neck lifted so they were looking down at Papyrus, almost authoritatively. “I getcha yer busy and all, but...really.” Their neck lowered a bit as their tone softened. “I think he’d like it.”

 

Papyrus’ jaw moved but no words followed.

 

“We...I—” Wally smiled sadly.

 

“Who’m I ta tell ya what ta do though?” They utter wistfully. “We barely know each other. Basically passing strangers.”

 

Papyrus’ tongue wet the sharp tips of his teeth in thought.

 

“Sometimes the most meaningful connections are made with strangers,” he uttered reflectively. “Because it segues into them becoming friends.” Wally chuckled.

 

“Despite my charming demeanor, don’t get much company other than Gerson,” they confessed. “Wouldn’t mind courting some friendships,” they winked.

 

A wide smile blossomed on Papyrus’ face.

 

“Would you like to—?” Wally returned his hopeful grin with a sharp one of their own.

 

“How else does a working monster make connections anyhow?” They asked, “b’sides through work and secondhand associations?” Papyrus found himself laughing.

 

“How indeed! Though in any other sort of circumstance, one would think this quite an unusual exchange!”

 

“Nothing bout this has been normal’s far as I know,” Wally shrugged playfully. “But hey, it’s definitely tha start ta something.”

 

“was that boss, laughing? ” The curtain pulled back to reveal Sans returning from the depths of the living quarters. His grin was bemused, with a hint of unexpected awe. A whistle rang through his teeth. “color me impressed!” His gaze swooped to Wally. “what’d ya do?” Instead of replying, Wally’s jaw gaped.

 

“First winking, now whistling?! What’s it ya can’t do?” Sans’ brow ridges wrinkled, as if the answer was obvious.

 

“like, anything you can?” 

 

“It doesn’t make any sense!!” 

 

“why wouldn’t it though?” Sans’ gaze met Papyrus’, who basically related to Sans in one look that this conversation had already occurred once before. Sans just chuckled. Damn, were they in for a ringer. “seriously though,” Sans pressed them, “boss don’t usually do this out in public. something happen while i was with ole gerse?” Wally seemed a bit peeved that Sans redirected their question, but was otherwise unfazed.

 

“We were having a conversation,” they replied, “y’know, at a customer-ta-shopkeep basis.”

 

“well clearly yer doing something the others ain’t,” Sans noted, “cuz not even th’snowdin lady can get him ta appreciate her puns!”

 

“How would you know that when you’re clearly not with me during my shopping rounds?” Papyrus interrupted. “I too converse with the shopkeeps!”

 

“not when ‘m around ya don’t!” Sans argued.

 

“You’re just not paying attention!” 

 

“nah, yer too set on keeping up appearances.”

 

“I beg your pardon!”

 

Sans shook his head at Wally as he jabbed his thumb at Papyrus, brow ridges in an amused crease.

 

“don’t listen ta this joker,” he snickered with a lazy grin, “he’s clearly pulling yer tail.” They just looked like they were having trouble holding back their hysterics. Flushed, Papyrus’ jaw opened to defend himself when Wally’s laughter broke free.

 

“Yer all too fucking hilarious! ” They gasped through their raucous fit, “yer easily m’favorite highlight of today!”

 

“do ya say that bout all yer customers?” Sans widely grinned, as Papyrus turned away in clear embarrassment. Wally returned his grin.

 

“Nah, I really don’t,” they confessed. “Most a them are kinda, y’know—” they waved their hand in a circular gesture, “—generic.”

 

“suppose that’s waterfall fer ya,” Sans shrugged. “just go with the flow, they all do.”

 

“Clearly they’ve never met Aaron,” Papyrus huffed. 

 

“Oh god, that guy,” Wally tossed their head exasperatedly, “never wears a goddamn shirt I swear— ” The brothers shared a look of surprise.

 

“ya kick’im out?” Sans blurted, as Papyrus shot him a more pointed look for interrupting.

 

“Course I did!” Wally crossed their arms in front of their chest, “can’t really say much fer shoes, but he was causing a scene! Kept tryna push his biceps and pecs onta anyone around. Made both my customers and me uncomfortable!” Both brothers eyed each other, sharing a knowing look and holding back wide grins.

 

“What did Gerson have to say?” Papyrus pressed. 

 

“Basically said my safety comes first, and that making it a bigger deal than it’s worth wouldn’t change anything, but like—” Wally rolled their eyes before eyeing both of them. “—seriously though, that muscle-dummy was getting on my goddamn nerves!” This time, both skeletons revealed their grins. “What?” 

 

“yer doing way better than the last guy that tried ta take our place,” Sans smirked. 

 

“Indeed!” Papyrus marveled.

 

“What, they just couldn’t handle the work and the bullshit?” The two both gave them varying expressions of exasperation and contempt. “That bad?”  

 

“you wouldn’t believe it if ya saw’im.”

 

“But that matters not!” Papyrus exclaimed, “for you are a far better worker than any of our other previous attempts of replacement!”

 

“Well I’m honored y’think so!” Wally bowed dramatically. “‘Specially from former shopkeeps as yerselves.”

 

“Oh, before I forget—” Papyrus reached over to the counter for their pen and scribbled his cellphone number on a new page of their notepad. Pushing it back to them, he grinned. “Just in case, of course.”

 

Wally beamed delightedly.

 

“If I get a group of weirdos I can’t beat back myself, you’ll be the first guy I call!” They promised. 

 

“I’ll be here,” Papyrus affirmed. Sans looked the two over, briefly confused, before glancing at his brother’s shopping basket. 

 

“got everything ya need, boss?” He asked tentatively.

 

“No need for that here, Brother,” Papyrus smiled assuredly. “And yes, I believe I do.” 

 

“Oh, lemme ring y’up then!” Wally offered, slipping into their customer-service voice. They began sifting through the goods he chose and typing out the cost on the janky printing calculator. Clearly, finding enough replacement rolls to print out receipts for each customer was challenging, given the nature of the Underground, but Papyrus was still amazed when they still hand-wrote one for him anyhow. 

 

“Oh, and another thing—” he belted suddenly.

 

“Hm?” Wally added the total and wrote it down at the bottom of the page.

 

“Do you know when Gerson will next acquire more eggs?” Papyrus asked. Wally looked up at him.

 

“I uh, I’ll hafta ask,” they replied. “Think we got enough in storage, but I can’t remember when the dimensional box’s supposed ta be scheduled fer a refill.” Papyrus nodded in understanding.

 

“Will you let me know, please?” He requested. “I would not mind if you contact me personally.” Wally chuckled.

 

“See and here y’gave me th’impression ya weren’t one fer unsolicited shopkeeps calls,” they teased. Papyrus flushed a moment before composing himself.

 

“I would not normally ask, but in order for me to carry on with an assignment, they are necessary.” Wally tittered.

 

“Yeah, yeah,” they grinned, “I’ll let ya know. No need ta be all serious. If there’s enough after Gerson makes another one a his pastry experiments, I’ll save ya some. How many ya thinking?” Papyrus cocked his head in thought.

 

“A dozen perhaps!” Wally whistled, while Sans eyed him with a furrowed brow ridge.

 

“what the void kinda assignment needs a dozen eggs?” His nasal ridge scrunched with disbelief.

 

“A personal one, of course,” Papyrus smiled both in a secretive and mischievous way to him.

 

“Man, y’could do some serious baking with all that.” Wally handed him his receipt and the bags they managed to squeeze his groceries in. “If y’are though, you should save me some,” they winked. “I gots me a sweet-tooth.”

 

Papyrus stared with widened sockets at them as if forgetting Wally seemed to like teasing him so much. 

 

“Oh ah,” he stammered, “I’m afraid I may disappoint you for this occasion, though I would not mind attempting such some other time!” Wally smiled sweetly.

 

“D’aww it’s cool,” their hand gestured dismissively downward, “Gerson don’t bake as much as when I first started, but it don’t mean I get the occasional craving.” Papyrus’ face scrunched in lighthearted disbelief.

 

“Perhaps when you are allotted the time to, you could make some yourself?” Sans snorted.

 

“wouldn’t blame ya fer not wanting to though,” he shrugged, “sometimes it’s nicer when someone else makes it for ya.”

 

“Exactly the point I was getting to!” Wally agreed. “‘Specially when it’s been a busy day.”

 

“Well, there’s always the cinnamon buns from the Snowdin shopkeep,” Papyrus offered. “It’s literally down the street from our house.”

 

“Oh good God would you?! ” Wally gasped. “Are they like—the kind with thick frosting or the super sugary ones??”

 

“You’ll just have to find out when I get them!” Papyrus coyly replied.

 

“Damn!” Wally cursed, “guess I’ll hafta wait. Consider it a trade then, Sir Skeleton!” They announced, “dozen eggs fer an order a cinnamon buns!”

 

“You have yourself a deal.” Papyrus glanced at his receipt before remembering he needed to pay them still. Sheepishly putting down the bags, he fumbled with his pocket to retrieve payment. 

 

“shoulda had it out and ready beforehand,” Sans shook his head with a smirk.

 

“Shut up,” Papyrus hissed, counting out the G for them and doling out his change into Wally’s waiting hand.

 

“Least ya didn’t try ta scamper off,” they grinned, recounting then expertly tossing them into their cash drawer. “Last guy that tried had ta seek a healer.”

 

“oh right, not much a those around here, hm?” Sans remarked offhandedly. 

 

“There ain’t?” Wally’s brow furrowed, curious. Papyrus tilted his head in thought before turning back to Sans.

 

“Are there any local healers in Snowdin?” Sans squinted.

 

“can’t say i know fer sure,” he shrugged after a moment. “heard the Queen was one but she up and left.” Red eyelights glanced around the room. “maybe all the rest a them left with her.” Wally frowned.

 

“Then how d’ya treat yer wounds?”

 

“uh, we do it ourselves?” Wally squinted down at him, as if the notion itself never occurred to them.

 

“You can do that?”

 

“i mean, it may be shit but at least it’s something. don’t need ta be too fancy if ya can’t afford it.”

 

“The practice in itself is not widely taught,” Papyrus explained. “Gerson knew the basics from past experience, so he taught us himself, but it’s only enough to treat superficial or shallow wounds, not anything more.” Wally’s tongue licked at their lip.

 

“Huh.” A pause. “Guess at least yer good in case a emergencies.”

 

“yup,” Sans smiled, “hopefully that’s all we’ll need.”

 

“Well,” Wally stretched their neck back, “‘ve kept ya here long enough. And though the company was good, this here is still an establishment not a saloon.” They gave both skeletons a winning smile. “Hope ta see y’all again! Maybe even in a not-work setting!”

 

“I’m looking forward to it,” Papyrus grinned appreciatively.

 

“yeah,” Sans saluted to them, “was nice chatting!” Once the two were out of the shop, Sans chuckled behind a growing smile. “shit am i glad i came in,” he turned to Papyrus. “i really like’em. they’re more cut out fer the job than i thought.”

 

“I said about the same!” Papyrus laughed in return. “The fact that they’re still with Gerson already speaks lengths.” Sans belted out a laugh.

 

“remember the last guy that tried ta weasel his way inta the shop?” he nudged Papyrus. “how he was all—‘i admire the hammer a’ justice,’ ‘he’s my role model! ’ an’ then when we put ‘im ta work he literally just caved?” Papyrus snorted, half with bemusement, half with mild annoyance at the recollection.

 

“He certainly didn’t deserve to lift all those barrels all by himself,” he chuckled. “A terrible way to break an arm.”

 

“he was the one who was all flexing like he was some big shot,” Sans corrected. “and b’sides, he had it comin’,” Sans shrugged. “he was literally stealing from under our nonexistent noses.”

 

“Lucky for him Gerson doesn’t answer the phone anymore. He’d probably give him the worst review if that guy ever tried to use him as a reference to a new employer.”

 

“heh heh, yeah.”

 

“Oh yes,” Papyrus stopped walking and turned to Sans. “Just what did you want to show me?” Sans blinked as if remembering.

 

“oh...yeah,” he paused. Sans looked up at him and offered a hand to Papyrus. “c’mon, i’ll take ya there.” Papyrus’ brow ridge furrowed.

 

“Is this really necessary? What if someone sees?”

 

“‘s not like it’s anything more than a magic act,” Sans grinned, though it didn’t reach his sockets. “brace yerself now.”

 

“What—” a blip and suddenly the cool air became chillingly cold. Falling into the snow, Papyrus caught a glimpse of Sans just right above him.

 

“hey bro,” he snickered, the bags floating in midair just next to him, “gotta be careful doing anything mid-shift am i right?” Papyrus glared up at him as he picked himself up. Brushing snow off his armor, Papyrus looked to his surroundings. They were in the forest again, out of the camera’s range. In front of them, stood Doge’s signature yellow barrier. The spears pulsated uniformly as Papyrus walked over to them. Sans had placed their groceries on the snow to join him.

 

“i didn’t wanna disturb the scene, so yer gonna hafta peek through to see what i mean.” Furrowing a brow ridge, Papyrus stepped as close as the field would allow.

 

“What am I looking for?”

 

“tell me what ya see.” Squinting through the waves of yellow magic, Papyrus scrutinized the snow.

 

“Just tracks. Snow,” he added haughtily. Sans’s eyelights fell, his jaw in a tense frown.

 

“yeah. that’s what i saw too. just those.”

 

“You are acting as if there is more that should be present,” Papyrus noted impatiently. “Are you going to inform me of what is lacking?”

 

“it’s their dust boss,” Sans hissed. “it’s gone.” Papyrus stared blankly at him, as if to grasp his words fully.

 

“And what is that supposed to mean?” he clarified, voice rising.

 

“i-i dunno, but…” Sans gulped. “i think they might’ve disappeared.” Papyrus’ face scrunched with disbelief and disgust as Sans hurried to explain himself. “think about it, boss, was there any dust on yer clothes when ya woke up? did ya have to literally scrub’em off yer bones— ” Flushing red, Papyrus turned away with a jerk.

 

“No, you idiot,” he interjected. “I would have certainly noticed.”

 

“then how else couldja explain it?” Sans stressed, “when we dusted’em… boss they didn’t stay dust.” 

 

“You can’t be serious,” Papyrus deadpanned. Shaking his head he laughed bitterly. “Do you expect me to believe such bullshit?!”

 

“hear me out boss—” Sans backed away, palms disarmingly toward him.

 

“What you are suggesting is ludicrous,” Papyrus interrupted, voice rising as he stepped closer. “What you are presenting to me is an unfathomable theory in no way could we test!”

 

“it’s fine if ya don’t believe me boss,” Sans yielded, “it’s okay to yell it out. but it’s not okay ta make me feel like shit over it!”

 

“I’m—that’s not what I—” Papyrus paused to mitigate his tone. “The mere implication that Temmies can even do that is highly theoretical! And without any proper backing.”

 

“the only tracks we saw were from us and the tems,” Sans began to list, “if it were some other fucker sweepin’ up the mess they’d leave evidence in tha snow—it makes the most sense outta all those other outcomes,” Sans explained, “why else would there be no traceable evidence? dust doesn’t just fucking walk away!”

 

“Neither do monsters resurrect after getting dusted.” Sans wasn’t going to convince him by yelling, he knew. So he gave a little, and softened his voice.

 

“look bro. there’s a lot we don’t know bout temmies. maybe this is their way of—of...surviving? y’know, their defense mechanism. to protect themselves and their species.”

 

“I can’t believe you’re even considering this right now,” Papyrus replied in disbelief. He put a hand to his temporal process. “Sans, I don’t know what to say.”

 

“i—” Sans gulped dryly. “i just want you ta believe me pap,” he whispered. Then with a quivering exhale, “‘m scared, papyrus.” Realizing his actions, Papyrus reached out to embrace him.

 

“S-Sans—”

 

“look,” Sans interrupted him, “i just...yer right,” he conceded, “you’re always right. about almost everything. and y’see the sides i don’t and—” Sucking air sharply through his teeth, Sans backed away from him. “—what ‘m tryna say is—” he stuttered, “—i—” Covering his sockets did nothing to hide the tears that were rolling down his infraorbital foramen. “if they really can come back,” he sobbed, “what are we gonna do? ” Papyrus eyed their surroundings before putting a reassuring hand on Sans’ shoulder.

 

“I think that is best discussed at home,” he uttered, “wouldn’t you agree?” Taking a shaky breath, Sans wiped at his sockets before daring to make eye contact.

 

“...alright.”

Chapter 11

Summary:

The brothers need time to digest Sans’ and Doge’s discovery, and maybe finally blow off some steam in more ways than one. Unfortunately, there are more questions than there are answers.

Notes:

Thanks for waiting literally years for the smut! I haven’t had the opportunity to really focus on my fics until very recently—I swear I’ve had a bad track record before, but this is way worse lol (I partially blame the pandemic, but that kinda ruined a lot of things in 2021 now didn’t it?)

There’s at least two chapters that are 85% written that need final edits, and I’ve got an ending planned (which honestly you can’t get too excited if it hasn’t been finalized so I apologize in advance.) My writing has gone through a bit of a change, so hopefully it won’t be too jarring reading through it all again?

Smut (actual sex) is sectioned off, but the voyeurism part is not!

This time when Sans brought them to their living room, Papyrus landed on his feet, albeit shakily, and Sans half-stumbled, nearly face-planting onto the carpet had Papyrus not thrown his arm out and caught Sans by the front of his ribcage. Their groceries however, fell to the ground with a loud thump. Distantly, Papyrus was glad he didn’t purchase anything inherently breakable. Although Sans was calmer now, the tears dotting his sockets began trickling down again. Hurriedly brushing at them with his sleeve, Sans leaned back to readjust his footing before Papyrus attempted to move his arm.

 

“Please tell me your thoughts,” he implored. “I need to know how to help you Sans.” Sighing, Sans plopped onto the couch tiredly, and Papyrus followed suit.

 

“was thinkin’ bout when doge and i checked it out yeah?” Sans began, “dogs can pick up any scent, right? and she couldn’t find it either. ” Papyrus knew that despite the generalized belief that dogs have a keen sense of smell, there was always room for error. Still, he held back his own reprimands and questions with a tight jaw. Sans needed him to listen right now. Sans needed this from him.

 

“It is unusual…” he urged Sans to continue. “but how did you come to such a conclusion?” Sans bit crookedly in thought.

 

“that was our first ever real fight,” he confessed. “our first time actually dusting anything,” he exhaled with a frown. “never thought i’d say this, but i don’t like it,” Sans admitted. “how do other monsters do that so easily?” Papyrus brushed a speck of snow off his armor.

 

“I never said I enjoyed dusting them,” he huffed. “It was merely for self-defense.”

 

“ yeah ,” Sans rolled his eyelights. “as if ‘showin’em what we’re made of’ is considered defense. ”

 

 “So I may have gotten caught up in the moment,” Papyrus admitted. “It was good practice for when we do then,” he argued.

 

“ no, it wasn’t, ” Sans contended. “if anything we were fucking lucky we came out the way we did! we coulda made out with worse .”

 

“And despite our inexperience, we went about it marvelously,” Papyrus commented. 

 

“y’don’t get it pap!” Sans shouted, “none of our training prepared me for something like that. i just— froze up ! y’dont do that! ”

 

“Sans,” Papyrus petted his skull in an effort to calm him, “hush, it’s alright. I’m here, and you are as well. What happened, happened. There’s no need to worry over the past.” Leaning into him, Sans whispered,

 

“i just don’t get it pap. it doesn’t make any sense! ” He sat up straighter. “why’d we even do that? it was a dumb move on both our parts, temmies or not, and—” Fists clenched tightly, Sans faced him, sockets welling with tears. “what didja see in them ta make you dust’em in the first place?” Taken aback, Papyrus blinked. Turning away, he released Sans. “papyrus,” Sans repeated, with a quiet insistence. “what didja see ?” The silence that befell them just exacerbated Sans’ nervousness. It wasn’t until Papyrus finally exhaled that Sans felt his bated breath extend.

 

“What I Saw Could Mean Anything, ” Papyrus enunciated, “but either way, I am Treating It As a Threat To Snowdin.” It was like Sans’ soul decided this moment to beat its loudest in his skull.

 

“t-those speckles—” he began.

 

“—Their souls were changed, ” Papyrus finished. “You saw them as well? Those splashes of red all over their souls? If they were merely consumed with red it could be brushed off as a normal occurrence, a mark of rot to a monster’s will. Evidence of compliantly succumbing to a dangerously uncontrollable nature. But no, they were still otherwise white . Why would only pieces of their souls be red unless something tainted them to begin with? ”

 

“y’sayin they’re diseased?” Sans frowned, “even if it were, we don’t even know if it’s transmittable ta non-temmies. dusting mangy mutts like that ain’t always the best option! if i'm right, and it turns out they can come back, all y’did was make them even angrier.”

 

“If they are indeed what you say,” Papyrus huffed, “then should they return, we are to treat their presence as an encroachment on Snowdin territory and therefore ours. ”

 

“that’s why i hope i'm fucking wrong, paps,” Sans suddenly cried out. “i ain’t ready ta face’em again. as if shufflin’ through tha woods was bad enough, i could still feel their dust on my bones, bro. i can still hear their howls.” Sans glanced at him, sockets welling. “i’m afraid papyrus,” he admitted. “i can’t keep thinkin’ bout’em but they worm their way in.”

 

“You and Doge blocked off their entry to the path,” Papyrus calmly reminded him. “No one’s coming through without alerting her first. You know how reliable her barriers are.”

 

“who’s gonna believe us though?” Sans shot back, “with their dust gone, what little evidence we have of it ever happening is a buncha snow and our side of the story.” Burying his face in his hands, Sans growled in frustration. “‘s like that kid who cried fucking wolf.”

 

“ Sans, ” Papyrus carefully cupped his face in his hands, “we have time to think about this, about what happened, about how we are to face them. Undyne—”

 

“it’s not enough! ” Sans protested, reluctantly backing away and shaking his head free, “can’t ya see just the thought of those temmies out there kills me?” Shaking phalanges tightly clung to the fabric covering his sternum. “my soul can’t take it.”

 

“Why don’t we focus on the problem at hand?” Papyrus gently took Sans by the hand. “You’re shaking.” Clicking his tongue, Papyrus smirked amusedly, then apologetically. “I shouldn't have teased you like that earlier, Sans. Why don’t I...as recompense…” Pulling Sans near, Papyrus led him to the couch. Peering down hazily at his crotch, Sans keened.

 

“pap yer glowing.” Nuzzling his cervical vertebrae, Papyrus chuckled.

 

“As are you.” Slowly edging closer, Papyrus chastely kissed the divots along Sans’ cervical vertebrae. “Would you like to do it here or...” he pecked at the residual tears on Sans’ maxilla, a heat rising within him as warmth blossomed on Sans’ face. “would you prefer we relocate to somewhere more comfortable?”

 

“stars, yes please,” Sans spoke into Papyrus’ shoulder. Chuckling, Papyrus gently picked him up.

 

“Bed it is then,” he decided.

 

--

 

Papyrus eyed his neatly folded clothes from the other day. Dust, much like what they saw with the Forest Temmies, was white when the magic holding their bodies first dissipated, leaving behind a powder. It ashened as time progressed until it disappeared, unless attached or absorbed into another item or being. It also made it quite easy to stick to other things and monsters. It made for easy evidence.

 

But no matter how much he squinted, he couldn’t see nary a speck. On either them or the floor. He didn’t want to start anything when he was trying to calm Sans down. He just… didn’t want to think about it.

 

Besides, Sans was more important. 

 

—

 

Clinging onto Papyrus like a koala helped Sans feel safe, but he knew it would only work only if Papyrus chose to participate. Being held up had its advantages though, so Sans tilted his skull so he could start nibbling at the protuberances of his cervical vertebrae as Papyrus leaned his back against the wall with a bemused chuckle. 

 

Drawing back, Papyrus leaned his forehead against the wall above Sans so he was looking down at him.

 

“Are you ready?” he asked. Sans, with eyelights bright in the dark, nodded sheepishly. Boss always knew how to get him blushing. “I need verbal confirmation,” Papyrus requested, nudging his nasal ridge into the cusp of Sans’ topmost cervical vertebrae at the base of his skull.

 

“yeah,” Sans sighed breathily, “ yeah. ” Any other formalities were thrown out the window the second Papyrus’ teeth latched onto Sans’ neck. At the contact, Sans sharply inhaled, and keened loudly.

 

Papyrus’ tongue laved at the inlets and lapped at the protuberances, hot saliva dripping down caused Sans to shiver. He still had his back against the wall, and both of Papyrus’ hands were busy holding him up, so Sans only thought it logical to try and help him out.

 

He started by slipping his hand under the neck of Papyrus’ sweater, playfully pinching at the bones underneath. Papyrus stiffened at the touch. Sans leaned forward so his teeth brushed at Papyrus’ sharp cheekbone. “no need ta hold back,” he purred, tongue flicking out just enough to lick at his temporal process, “okay boss?” 

 

A growing rumble resounded from Papyrus’ chest, and along with it was the veiled glow of his soul. Sans perked at the sight, and only managed to appreciate it a moment before he was flung onto the bed. Papyrus joined him not a second longer, stripping off his armor and unceremoniously allowing it to clatter to the ground. He did the same with his sweater.

 

Sans could see his soul more clearly now from beneath the thin fabric of his undershirt, its usual red dark and intimidating, like it’s always been since—But it wasn’t always that way.

 

Sans stiffened. 

 

His thoughts brought back the sight of the Forest Temmies’ souls, the pieces of red speckled around their otherwise white souls.

 

Those had to have come from somewhere, and though he hadn’t tried to check the status of Gerson’s, souls that lived through years of dusting other monsters always left a stain. It always left evidence.

 

But when it came to the two of them though...

 

Sans was lost in thought when Papyrus noticed he wasn’t responding as readily to his ministrations.

 

“What’s wrong?” Papyrus asked, gently kissing at Sans’ clavicle. “We’ve been waiting all day to be together.” Lazily trancing his sternum, Papyrus tilted his skull to see Sans’ expression. “Sans?” Blinking, Sans distractedly turned his head toward him.

 

“hm?”

 

“Something on your mind?” Papyrus propped his upper half up to analyze him.

 

“it’s…” Sans sighed, fidgeting with the blanket folds next to him. “i’m...a little worried ‘bout something.”

 

“What do you mean?” Sans clicked his conjured tongue, eyelights flitting about before he settled on a thought.

 

“let me see it,” Sans whispered, “your soul.”

 

“You see it all the time,” Papyrus chuckled.

 

“i mean, as it really is,” Sans requested, “without the red. like before we moved outta gerson’s. like when we first made love.” Blinking, Papyrus glanced at his sternum, the crimson glow already at full force.

 

“I—” he bit his teeth with a swallow. “I can’t—”

 

“since when’s that stopped ya before?” Sans quipped, confused.

 

“Sans I just—”

 

“y’worried it’s like the temmies?” Sans joked, “think ya caught something fighting them?”

 

“ Sans— ” he gasped in offense.

 

“i mean—” Sans laughed nervously, “it’s not like they can turn it off like we can!”

 

“I can turn it off WHENEVER I LIKE!” Papyrus yelled, strangely defensive. “AND THEIR SOULS are an entirely different MATTER. THAN. OURS! ” Shocked at this reaction, Sans’ brow knitted.

 

“pap, what the fuck.” Sitting up, Sans looked Papyrus in the eye. “what’s going on,” he pried worriedly, “yer doin’ that thing. where yer undulating.”

 

“I’ll TELL YOU When I DEEM IT APPROPRIATE!” he nearly roared.

 

“look if it’s about when we found that path—”

 

“—IT’S NOTHING, SANS.”

 

“course it’s nothing if i replace the ‘some’ with a ‘no,’” Sans retorted. “ya ain’t doing a great job keeping this a secret paps.”

 

“ Oh like how you kept how you could teleport a secret from ME?”

 

“i prefer ta call’em shortcuts,” Sans frowned, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

 

“It’s still a secret!” Sans propped himself up so they were at the same level.

 

“why the fuck are you turning the tables on me, huh?” Sans demanded. “can’t i be happy with you and still keep stuff ta myself?! like think through shit without ya?”

 

“You wouldn’t think I’d like to know why you’re tired all the time?” Papyrus snipped as he removed himself from the bed, “Why even after I catch you napping, you’re still clearly exhausted? If it affects you so negatively I wish to know of it! I care about you, Sans!” Turning around with a huff, Papyrus put a hand over his sockets. “I need to know what’s wrong so I can help you,” he uttered. Sans tossed his legs off the bed to follow him.

 

“papyrus, i love you,” Sans slipped his arms around him. “i didn’t mean ta keep it a secret fer so long. it never really came as a subject of casual conversation,” he grinned lightly. Papyrus’ nasal ridge scrunched.

 

“Well that’s a lie,” he noted haughtily. “You would’ve been so proud to tell me firsthand I would’ve known the second you knew you could do such a thing.” Papyrus exhaled through his nasal aperture. “So why didn’t you?” Sans’ distal phalange idly drew circles on Papyrus’ sternum in thought.

 

“lemme put it like this,” Sans decided after a pause, “when yer a kid, y’don’t got much a choice, right?” Papyrus removed Sans’ hands from his ribcage and turned around.

 

“What does that have to do with it?” Sans’ sockets close a moment, as if bracing himself.

 

“back in uhwmy,” he began, “y’know those adoption days they’d hold every few months? th’ones with royal guards?” Papyrus listened carefully, his face a mask of speculation. 

 

“Yes,” he replied. “That was when we were assigned to Gerson.”

 

“well, they were lookin’ fer future recruits,” Sans finished, “convenient place ta leave kids who got nowhere ta go, and easy pickings fer ex-guards with money or power.” Papyrus’ expression darkened.

 

“Are you suggesting we would have ended up as someone else’s lapdogs?”

 

“well yeah,” Sans shrugged, “‘’cept they woulda separated us. never saw pairs being taken together,” he shook his head. “they were always alone.” 

 

“Where is this all coming from?” Papyrus asked impatiently. “What does this have to do with anything?”

 

After a pause, Sans chuckled nervously. 

 

“y’probably don’t remember too much either, but y’were such a people-pleaser. couldn’t do nothing wrong.” His smile faded. “when i first found out what i could do, i accidentally found a room where the caretakers kept records of our magic potential.” Sans paused momentarily. “the ones who scored the highest were always praised, treated like they were the best ovall th’other kids. they left notes in the margins bout how they’d be given to monsters of higher power. how they were the future of the guards, the ones who would be our last line of defense against any humans who got the better of us.” Sans swallowed dryly. “i didn’t wanna lose ya,” Sans admitted, as he scratched at his cervical vertebrae. “y’were everything i had, so i kept it a secret so they wouldn’t separate us.” Sans glanced down at his hands, a sad smile across his face. “gerson was the best thing ta ever happen ta us,” he confessed. “still is. couldn’t really imagine where we’d be now if it weren’t fer him.”

 

“Does...did Gerson know?” Sans shook his head.

 

“nah. never told him either,” he confessed, “i never meant ta keep it from ya, pap. i'm sorry.” His frown giving way to a sigh, Papyrus’ eyelights caught Sans’.

 

“I...I’m still upset, but I forgive you.” Sans shrugged.

 

“lies of omission’re still lies.” Eyeing Papyrus’ soul, Sans observed his expression. “are y’still in the mood?” He asked, holding back hope. Papyrus inhaled, his ribcage rising as he hunched over in thought.

 

“…no,” he answered. “You’ve given me much to think about.” Rising from the bed, Papyrus picked up his sweater from the floor and began redressing.

 

“w-wait—” he eyed Sans briefly as Sans scrambled toward him. Papyrus shook his head.

 

“I will be down the hall,” Papyrus informed him. “Would you like me to remind you where I keep the toys?”

 

“i—!” Sans flushed, both embarrassed and upset at this development. “i know where th’fuck they are!” Hurt, Sans followed after Papyrus. “paps c’mon–” Reaching for him, Sans gasped when Papyrus turned around and suddenly caught him by the wrist. He wasn’t prepared to feel the weight of blue magic over his soul, nor the air of disdain and heaviness emitting from Papyrus that moment. Crimson magic smoked from his sockets as Papyrus glared at Sans.

 

“STAND. DOWN.” Eyelights small, Sans stared, shaking. 

 

“p–pap??” Hand now clenched into a fist, Papyrus entire being seemed to quiver, and Sans could feel it through the magic clutching his soul. “pap are you–” Suddenly Papyrus’ fist unclenched; the blue magic dissipated and Sans dropped to the ground. Sans looked up to see Papyrus full-body shaking. Seeing he noticed, Papyrus backed away.

 

“Please, just–leave me alone,” he choked, as he ran out of the room.

 

Stunned, Sans listened to the thump of his footfalls sound further and further away. Papyrus fled.

 

The Great and Terrible Papyrus.

 

Fled.

 

From him.

 

—

 

Papyrus locked himself in the bathroom, tears falling freely as his eyelights smoked uncontrollably red.

 

“Fuck–” he uttered, furiously wiping the tears rolling down his sockets. “FUCK!” It just wasn’t fair…NONE of it was fair!

 

Sans was always terrible at keeping secrets, why keep one this long, and why reveal it now of all times–

 

Why reveal it when Papyrus was just starting to feel a sense of normal after they encountered those Temmies?

 

Curling into himself, Papyrus lowered to the cold tile and leaned against the only available wall. He couldn’t keep dodging the question, and he couldn’t keep the truth from Sans. He was pretty sharp, but he knew not to press Papyrus too far.

 

Still shaking, Papyrus covered his sockets with a hand and lightly rested a hand over his sternum.

 

His soul hummed behind his undershirt. Exhaling, Papyrus wiped his sockets again with the back of his phalanges and focused on his soul.

 

The magic he kept up, the magic they both kept up, shifted. Closing his sockets Papyrus inhaled and braced himself. Cupping his manifested soul in his hands, Papyrus reignited his eyelights, teeth set in a tense line.

 

Across the whole of his being, where white once fully washed over it, was a single smear of pink in the middle. A darker pink than Papyrus was expecting, but indeed a noticeable blemish.

 

There was no method of removing LV once it was received.

 

Just what LV were those Forest Temmies that Papyrus’ soul could become so changed? In an attempt to calm himself, Papyrus let his soul float over one hand while the other covered the stain. Gently allowing it to recede back behind his sternum, Papyrus exhaled shallowly. 

 

There’s no telling just how much this was going to change everything.

 

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” Papyrus hissed under his breath. “This isn’t like the stories.” Heroes weren’t supposed to come out of their stories tainted . And now, he was just as stained as every other monster he abhorred.

 

He couldn’t pretend that he was above them anymore if his own soul was evidence he couldn’t prove it.

 

Hugging himself, Papyrus rested his glabella against his patellae. Stars… Sobbing, Papyrus laid on the floor and focused on his breathing.

 

After his soul’s beat resumed its usual hum, Papyrus slowly sat up.

 

He’s so tired.

 

Stars does he need Sans more than ever.

 

Wiping the tears from his sockets, Papyrus got up from the floor.

 

He had to tell Sans.

 

–

 

The door was still open when Papyrus finally left the bathroom. He could hear stifled moans, and the quiet buzzing of a muffled vibrator as he neared his bedroom. Peering in, Papyrus assessed his brother’s ministrations to himself.

 

“ha…ha…boss–” Papyrus touched the traverse processes of his cervical vertebrae and imagined Sans kissing them. His hips started rocking. Sans’ legs began rising from beneath the blanket, as he too began thrusting his hips upward. “p-pap–” he gasped. His sockets were shut as Papyrus maneuvered his way back into the bedroom. Sans’ soul burned hot from behind his ribcage, Papyrus could see it from behind the blanket, bathing Sans in a lovely shade of white. To witness Sans' soul so pronounced, as relatively unadulterated as before, was breath-taking. Sans was absolutely radiant. 

 

So focused he was to reaching him, Papyrus about stumbled to the bed in his efforts to control himself. He wondered what Sans was imagining, what scenarios were playing in his head. Watching his ribcage rise and fall, listening to his desperate gasps and moans–

 

Then a hitch in his breathing–and Sans’ spine arched–

 

“ah–p-papyrus~”

 

The long groan he expelled made Papyrus’ soul sing. Then with another long buzz, the vibrator stopped, and breathing heavily, Sans opened his sockets. His eyelights were slow to alight, but when they did, they made direct eye contact with Papyrus, leaning over him hungrily, crimson eyelights smoking. Sans grinned lazily up at him. “didja like th’show?” he murmured, reaching up at him.

 

Papyrus took his hand and brought it close to his zygomatic process. Sans watched him as Papyrus kissed his distal phalanges chastely with his teeth, then he migrated down to his wrist. The same one he grabbed earlier.  

 

“You’re beautiful Sans,” Papyrus husked, leaning closer, his weight now on the bed, still over Sans. 

 

“heh,”  Sans chuckled, eyelights hazy, “can’t not take a compliment from such a cool skeleton.” Sans brought his other hand over Papyrus’ other zygomatic process and cupped his face in his hands. “c'mere bro,” he urged softly. Papyrus closed their distance and Sans returned a chaste kiss to Papyrus’ glabella. A full-body sigh overtook him, and Papyrus laid his full weight over Sans. Hugging him tight, Sans patted his scapula. “i love ya bro, y’know that right?” He felt Papyrus nod into his clavicle. “y’can tell me anything.” Stroking his frontal bone, Sans exhaled. “just lemme know when yer ready, okay?” Papyrus lifted his skull off of Sans to look at him.

 

“I’m sorry for leaving you like that Sans,” Papyrus apologized. “I’ll…I will seek you out, I promise.” He paused a moment, “I–I know you just finished, but…” There was no hiding the glow coming from his jeans, and Sans just smirked knowingly.

 

“heh. i could go fer another.” Then with a kind smile, Papyrus tilted his skull. 

 

“Will you help me release some of this steam?”

 

“don’t really need ta ask, now do ya?” Sans grinned devilishly, as he coquettishly leaned forward so his teeth brushed at Papyrus’ temporal process. “just gonna rile y’up y’know.” Papyrus whimpered.

 

“Brother, in all fairness,” he replied breathily, “I have been quite riled up all day.”

 

“oh?” Sans chuckled, “well that makes two of us.” Papyrus snorted.

 

“If you are planning on fucking me, you need to do so now before I become impatient,” he purred.

 

“the great and terrible papyrus?” Sans’ brow ridges rose lazily, “impatient?” He clicked his tongue. “nah. but my cute little bro,” Sans hummed, “well, he’s another story.”

 

“Which do you prefer I be?” Papyrus grinned coyly.

 

“whatever i can get outta you first,” Sans rumbled. 

 

(Sex starts here)

 

To fall into his embrace was a gift in itself, a warm welcome after a long day. Sans’ teeth nibbled at Papyrus’ cervical vertebrae, climbing up until he found his mandible. Teeth brushed teeth, and both jaws opened so their tongues might meet. Sans removed his shirt, carelessly tossing it over his shoulder to join the mess of strewn armor on the floor. Papyrus followed suit, undoing his belt and shuddering when Sans cupped a hand on the bulge of magic. He kept at it as Papyrus wriggled out of his tight pants. 

 

“S-Sans—” Papyrus breathed, thrusting into his touch, “—ahh!”

 

Sans moved his free hand so it slid downward near Papyrus’ obturator foramina. Lightly tracing at the bones of his pelvis, Sans grinned when the crimson magic began taking shape. 

 

“hope yer ready ta fuck and be fucked,” he husked, “cuz i sure am.” 

 

“Mmm!” Papyrus replied, grabbing hold of Sans’ shorts, both pulling him closer and sliding them down at the same time. Their tongues intertwined again, and it was sloppy, unhindered. “Get your ass on my dick this instant,” he growled, “you still owe me a turn.” Soul fluttering, Sans chuckled and kicked off his shorts.

 

“as you wish, boss,” Sans uttered heatedly into his temple before licking slowly at his temporal process. Papyrus moaned unabashedly, grinding into Sans, his dick poised and bobbing slightly. Sans positioned himself just above it and carefully inserted the head into his waiting entrance. Papyrus slid right in almost immediately, producing very cute noises as he began pumping inside Sans. “aah~ mm boss,” he sighed. Suddenly, Papyrus gripped Sans tightly, as he flipped them over. The back of Sans’ skull met the pillow with a poff. A muffled noise escaped Sans as he gazed up at him. Papyrus rutted into him vigorously, phalanges grabbing onto Sans’ clavicle as he built up a rhythm.

 

Sans reached up and gripped at Papyrus’ wrists, some of his phalanges hooking in the spaces between his radii and ulnae. Half-lidded sockets watched at Papyrus’ face of concentration as Sans decided to roll his hips. Papyrus gasped. To watch his expression change, to witness his jaw steadily gape again to release a needy moan was delicious. Sans lifted his lower half a little higher, and Papyrus took this as a cue to help. His sharpened distal phalanges lightly scraped at Sans’ clavicles as they retreated, and Papyrus traced down his ribs, his pelvis, and his femurs before slotting the inlets of his elbows under Sans’ knees. 

 

They moaned in unison at the effect. Sans’ metacarpals hit the bed as he attempted to angle himself higher.

 

“Sans—” Papyrus keened, “—oh god—” The glow from inside his ribcage was resplendent, and Sans traced the curvature of Papyrus’ ribs with hazy eyelights as he watched the light of Papyrus’ soul wash them all in red. As the rhythm became more frenzied, and the bouncing was making it slightly difficult to hold himself up, Sans positioned his legs so they were crossed on Papyrus’ back. He could feel Papyrus’ soul practically resound around them. 

 

Stars to be close to him like this—to be so intimate—

 

“p-paps—” he yelped, “—l-little more—” Heavy breathing answered him as Papyrus slammed his palms against the pillow on either side of Sans’ skull. A spark of heated arousal washed over him as Sans gasped. 

 

Stars, his brother was so cool. What did Sans ever do to deserve someone so great?

 

Papyrus shuddered, and his sockets opened to reveal eyelights bleary with arousal. His teeth parted and Sans leaned closer to kiss him. Their teeth met first, then their tongues as the kiss became more passionate. Papyrus pulled away first, his teeth brushing at Sans’ temporal process as his heated breath left Sans shivering.

 

“G-gonna—” he moaned, “—S-Sans!”

 

“hnngg—” Sans squeezed his inner walls, and he felt the dick inside him jump. “ah!”

 

Papyrus responded with a cry of his own, though it was lower, sensuously so. Stars, Sans could cum then and there from that sound alone. Then, Sans had an idea. “b-boss,” he stammers, pointing quickly at his jaw, “here, please. ”

 

Bless his quick mind he understood. When Papyrus thrusted one more time and lifted himself off, Sans immediately sprang for the bobbing dick in front of him. He lengthened his tongue, flattening it for the most surface area. Oh the noise Papyrus made—holy shit, Sans’ eyelights practically rolled back in satisfaction.

 

He did that. 

 

Stars, Sans wanted to give him anything. Everything he could possibly give.

 

Licking at the base of his dick, Sans hummed happily as Papyrus produced more noises for him.

 

“A-ahh! Sans—” 

 

Sans wanted more, so much more. So he sucked the entirety of the engorged dick into his false throat, lapping at each inch. Oh, he felt it twitch then, quite a wonderful feeling he could make Papyrus feel so good.

 

Sans withdrew a bit, to give more attention to the head before sinking back down. Papyrus took this opportunity to put a hand on his skull. Sans peered up at him, eyelights blurring ever so slightly.

 

His sockets were shut in concentration again, his brow ridges furrowed. Sans grinned and kept a steady pace.

 

Papyrus was close, he could feel it.

 

Up and down his skull bobbed, his tongue flicking and lapping on the more sensitive areas first teasingly, then passionately. 

 

Papyrus’ moan this time was longer. 

 

“Sans—” he uttered, his voice hoarse and gravelly, “Brother—” The hand on Sans’ skull gripped urgently, and Sans swallowed his entire dick again to let Papyrus control the pace.

 

It felt good to let go and let Boss handle it. 

 

It felt good to control and be controlled. Sans’ inner walls clenched at the thought. 

 

Stars, why did they wait so long? 

 

He concentrated on maintaining the magic creating his “throat,” as Papyrus continued fucking it.

 

Then, he felt the telltale sign that Papyrus was ready. A slight pause, a heavy breath, and fluids shot into Sans’ mouth.

 

He drank it all. 

 

The moment Papyrus sighed, Sans withdrew slowly and licked the head of his dick clean before giving it a light kiss. Papyrus let out a small gasp before collapsing onto the bed.

 

(Sex ends here)

 

Eyelights clearing, Sans leaned over from his seated position to examine him. 

 

Papyrus’ soul, still beating rapidly from their coupling, was still the same crimson he usually kept up, with only a hint of its original white. Sans sucked at his teeth. 

 

Even after an act of intimacy, he didn’t let his guard down. Why wouldn’t he show it to him? What was Papyrus ashamed of?

 

Sans exhaled through his nasal aperture. Papyrus would tell him when he was ready, he promised. And unlike Sans, Papyrus kept his promises. Sans untangled the sheets they pushed to the floor and pulled the covers over both of them. 

 

Watching Papyrus dozing now, Sans chastely kissed at his temporal process before letting his skull sink into the pillows. Whatever met them the next day, they would face it together. Sans let his sockets close, and just as the caress of sleep overtook him, he could’ve sworn her heard a howl so distant, it was just a whisper echoing through the trees. 

Chapter 12

Summary:

Sometimes, when you’re trying to process something big, you need a few distractions. Sans sets up a date.

Notes:

Wow hey this is a record for me! Have another chapter! I got another one incoming! :3

Sans had just dozed off when the mattress moving woke him up. Blearily, he rolled over just in time to catch Papyrus redressing.

 

“bro?” Sans muttered, “what time izzit?” Papyrus’ cellphone illuminated his face as he checked the time.

 

“Tomorrow,” Papyrus replied. Sans turned to squint at the window. The lights signaling the day cycle hadn’t turned on yet.

 

“we got today off don’t we?” he yawned. “‘dyne gave us a week.”

 

“Does not mean we should deviate from our otherwise strict regimen!” Papyrus huffed. “I will not be caught off guard by a change in schedule!”

 

“at least go an’ make coffee,” Sans moaned, “if yer gonna be making a ruckus.” He rolled himself tighter into the blankets.

 

“Why not come down with me,” Papyrus suggested, “while you’re up?”

 

“i ain’t up ,” Sans grunted. “‘m still laying down.”

 

“You know what I mean,” Papyrus rolled his eyelights. “It’ll be good for you, you know.”

 

“yeah yeah,” Sans covered his skull, “like not stopping at grillby’s. but y’won’t see me doin’ that any time soon.” There was a pause before Sans heard him sigh.

 

“If you insist,” he said, then adopting a playful tone, “I suppose coffee and a cinnamon bun breakfast is out of the question this morning?” 

 

40 seconds of silence passed before Sans rolled just enough so one of his sockets peered up at Papyrus from beneath his blanket sanctuary.

 

“what kind we talking?”

 

“Fresh of course,” Papyrus replied, “so long as we leave right now.” 15 more seconds passed as San sighed heavily.

 

“...can’t say no ta fresh.”

 

—

 

The Snowdin Lodge luckily, was one of the places that opened earlier than most establishments, so they had to wait only a short while. Sans was clearly still not awake while they were in line, but once they were inside, the smell of cream frosting and baking cinnamon wafting through the air jolted him somewhat out of his stupor. The Snowdin Lodge had a way of doing that.

 

Papyrus gently nudged at Sans, who leaned heavily against his shoulder despite being jarred momentarily awake by the magic-treated smell.

 

“Brother?”

 

“still not really up, boss,” Sans muttered.

 

“Why don’t you find us a seat?” Papyrus urged, “while I order.”

 

Sans shuffled to the nearest table and sat heavily down on one of the wood chairs. It creaked slightly under his weight, as Sans’ skull sank onto the table. The day-cycle lights were dimly glowing outside. He wondered if sunrises were as breathtaking as Gerson described them as his sockets sagged closed. 

 

—

 

Sans dreamed he was being carried and protected by strong, comforting arms through the chill that engulfed his surroundings. He dreamed they took him home, and laid him carefully down in a bed of radiating warmth, with a blanket of the softest fleece. 

 

He dreamed of the softest glow of light that soon morphed into the most perfect, untainted soul.

 

It floated there long enough that soon, noticeable specks of red overtook the unmarred surface like ink saturated water.

 

Sans dreamed lattices wove their way through the soul as the red darkened.

 

As pieces of it began falling away, he heard a loud, devastated howl.

 

Sans dreamed it crumbled to dust before he awoke again with a start.

 

—

 

Papyrus was not with him when Sans’ arm searched the bed for his familiar silhouette. Which would panic Sans had he not seen the note (well, more a series of post-it notes all meticulously stuck together to create a sheet of paper) on the nightstand. It read:

 

THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE PAPYRUS SAW NO NEED TO FURTHER INTERRUPT YOUR REST, AND HAS RELUCTANTLY ELECTED TO ALLOW YOU AN EXTRA TWO TO SEVEN HOURS TO SLEEP! (CONSIDER YOURSELF DEEMED WORTHY FOR SUCH TREATMENT! IT PAINS ME TO SEE YOU SLOGGING OFF WHEN IMPORTANT BUSINESS IS AT HAND!)

 

I WILL BE PRESENTLY VISITING GERSON FOR MY PERSONAL ASSIGNMENT, AND WILL THUSLY BE OCCUPIED! YOU MAY CONTACT ME IF ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY (THOUGH PLEASE INFORM ME ONCE YOU ARE AWAKE)!!

 

IN THE EVENT YOU CANNOT REACH ME, PLEASE KNOW I WILL ONLY LIMIT MYSELF TO THE CONFINES OF WATERFALL UNTIL THIS EVENING. (YOU HAVE MY NUMBER, AFTER ALL *WINK*)

 

SINCERELY YOURS,

 

THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE PAPYRUS

 

Sans snorted despite himself.

 

“what a nerd,” he chuckled, settling back into the covers. “a cute nerd.” Reaching for his phone, Sans sent him a text:

 

>> coulda just texted me bro ‘stead of leaving a note ;) <<

 

Immediately ellipses appeared underneath.

 

>> DID YOU NOT THINK IT A KIND GESTURE?? SOME IN ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIPS HAVE DEEMED IT AN “ADORABLE” AND “SWEET” MEANS OF COMMUNICATION! ARE YOU SUGGESTING THIS PRACTICE IS BULLSHIT? <<

 

Sans laughed aloud to himself. Stars his bro was so cute.

 

>> nah bro, it is cute. just different. <<

 

He hoped his assurance was spelled quite well there. Instead of texting back, Sans was surprised to see Papyrus calling him. Blinking, Sans answered.

 

“sup, boss?” 

 

“WERE THOSE EXTRA HOURS ENOUGH?” Sans had to think a moment of what he meant.

 

“oh, uh—yeah,” he nodded. “yeah, they were.” Sans could imagine him nodding severely in response.

 

“I TAKE IT YOU WILL BE OTHERWISE ENGAGED IN YOUR OWN ACTIVITIES?” Sans had to think about that too.

 

“uh, probably,” he replied. “why d’ya ask?”

 

“IT HAS OCCURRED TO ME THAT WE HAVE NEGLECTED ARRANGING A SUITABLY CAREFREE MOMENT FOR THE TWO OF US,” Papyrus stated, his voice then lowering. “Would you like to plan something for later this afternoon? Perhaps after we are finished with our own personal business?” Sans’ soul leaped to his throat.

 

“ yes! ” he belted immediately. “yeah! i’d—i’d love to!”

 

“Good!” He could hear Papyrus smile widely. “Then I shall see you once I have completed the tasks at hand!” Sans found himself smiling too.

 

“great, yeah,” he shyly grinned, “see ya soon.” And before he forgot, “i love ya paps.”

 

“I love you too.”

 

—

 

Sans got out of bed and got ready for the day, despite the lights outside suggesting it was already nearing the afternoon. Finding the shortcut that led to the kitchen, Sans stepped through it to find another note, this time next to a plated cinnamon bun and a paper cup of coffee.

 

FOR WHEN YOU THOROUGHLY AWAKEN! The note stated. Sans just chuckled before taking a bite. Just as good as he remembered, especially at just room temp.

 

He was surprised the mangy mutt that sometimes found its way inside hadn’t stolen either right off the table. Ah well, it was a pleasant surprise at the very least.

 

Idly opening the cupboards, Sans noticed Papyrus had put away all their groceries too. Examining one of the cans, Sans saw it happened to have a small smidge of dog residue on it. Like it tried to pick it up and figured out it smelled funny. Sans chuckled to himself as he shut the cupboard. Least they knew now that the dog wasn’t too fond of beans. Scratching at his lumbar vertebrae, Sans scrolled through his phone to see what he could occupy himself with for the next few hours. 

 

Bruno came to mind. Hotland wasn’t too far, and though Sans could technically still work a partial shift there, Undyne probably wouldn’t be pleased to see him there. Maybe Sans could help him plan out that little date for his partner.

 

Grinning, Sans shortcutted to Hotland.

 

Time to set up a date.

 

—

 

Sans stepped right next to one of the sentries guarding the main entrance, startling her quite visibly. 

 

“You…!!” The insectoid guard-monster's voice came out a high-pitched lilt.

 

“me!” Sans chuckled, a smirk across his skeleton face.

 

“I’ve told you before,” she stammered with what sounded like held-back fury. “Y-you can’t keep just showing up here unannounced! Why don’t you use the visitors’ registry like normal monsters!!”

 

“daw, c’mon drei,” Sans clicked his conjured tongue, “i ain’t that bad.”

 

Her armored antenna jointedly twitched as her helmet-covered face angled closer to his.

 

“You. Cannot. Keep. Doing. This! ” Drei emphasized. “I can’t keep covering for you !”

 

“what makes ya think i need ya ta cover me?” Sans retorted.

 

“Since the last time you managed to get both Fyra and me in trouble! ” she hissed.

 

Sans blew a raspberry.

 

“seriously?? that was one time! ”

 

“One time perhaps, but an only time!” Her mouthparts clicked audibly from behind her helmet. “Fyra hasn’t forgiven me yet for your mistake.”

 

“so what, i call in a favor and i get her ta talk ta ya again,” Sans gestured dismissively. “what’s the big deal?”

 

“Look, Bone boy,” Drei snarled, “either you do what you came here to do quickly, or you immediately get out of my sight!”

 

Sans looked the mantis over. She was serious; it practically exuded out of her fortified exoskeleton.

 

“a’ight,” Sans conceded. “‘m here ta see bruno. he around?”

 

Drei squinted down at him through the holes in her helmet.

 

“He’s most likely in the mess hall,” she provided. “But make it quick. I can’t have you getting your way too much.”

 

“cuz ya like me, right?” Sans winked.

 

She moved her head exaggeratedly like she was rolling her eyes.

 

“Obviously it’s because you’re a nuisance otherwise,” she scoffed.

 

“good enough fer me,” Sans finger-gunned her as he backed away. “lemme know how it goes with fyra, kay?”

 

“Leave her out of this, Sans!” Drei shot back, as he grinned to himself.

 

“nice,” he pumped a celebratory fist to himself, “finally got her ta call me by name.”

 

Sans scoped out the barracks once before he and Papyrus were stationed in Snowdin, before Gerson’s connections hooked them up with the house, so he knew vaguely where he was going and where things were. Luckily it wasn’t a maze like most places. As puzzled environments were segregated to areas available to the generalized public. Or in case of emergency lockdown. You know, because of Humans. 

 

It wasn’t hard to find Uno though, the big lug was with an equally as big lug, only Sans could see why he was so shy about confessing to his partner. The reptilian was very nice, a tall glass of water if the glass was actually a bottle with an upside down trapezoidal shape. He was definitely one to inherit the more draconian traits of his family. Duke had a series of horns and even had two small frills on the sides of his head. Sans internally wondered how reptilians diverged physically, but chalked it up to parentage and circumstance. Wally had similarities to the similarly illegal reptilian shopkeep outside of Mettaton’s Wonderfully Evil Emporium, but didn’t have Duke’s horns or his frills. Though, Sans chuckled, Wally was kinda a “no-frills” lizard anyhow.

 

Sans sidled next to Bruno the moment he was alone, startling him just as much, if not more, that his mantis compatriot. 

 

“B-bro!! You—what the heck?!”

 

“came ta help ya out, remember?” Sans grinned with a shrug. Seeing as how Bruno wasn’t wearing his helmet to eat, his eyes widened as he shuffled Sans to a more private corner.

 

“Why didn’t ya like, just call me?” He asked.

 

“wanted ta see what i was dealing with,” Sans replied, side-eyeing the object of the rabbit’s affections. “tall, dark and handsome, quiet…” Listing out his most obvious qualities seemed to spark a bit of embarrassment to Bruno, who put his finger to Sans’ teeth almost to shush him.

 

“Like—what the heck man!! Stop naming’em out like that!”

 

“what—” Sans laughed aloud, “y’think he’s alla the above, right?”

 

“Yeah but like, I don’t want other people like, finding that out!”

 

“shouldn’t matter ta others if y’like him, ‘uno,” Sans snorted.

 

“How’d you even, like, get in here Bro?” Bruno questioned, “aren’t the barracks like, closed to visitors around this time?”

 

“they made an exception fer me,” Sans smiled widely.

 

“You should be careful bro,” Bruno hummed, “can’t keep waltzing on in here like that if you don’t, like, live here.”

 

“yeah sure,” Sans smirked, “tell it to tha poor sap who lemme in.”

 

Bruno rolled his eyes.

 

“Next time ya wanna talk you can like, call me y’know,” he frowned. “You like, have my number don’tcha?”

 

“nah,” Sans shook his head, “not as fun, y’know?” 

 

“But like, how’re we gonna coordinate then?”

 

“what?” Sans chuckled, “fer what?”

 

“The—” Uno’s voice lowered to a hiss, “the thing you’re like, helping me with.”

 

“ohhh!” Sans pulled out his phone. “yeah, good call.”

 

“Like, how’d ya think it was gonna, like, go?” Uno half-snorted.

 

“woulda worked out fine ,” Sans insisted. “i’ve always been able ta findja, haven’t i? but if ya insist,” he winked. “don’t go telling duke y’got a side hustle now.”

 

“It’s not like, a hustle if it’s from a coworker, bro!” Uno protested.

 

“yer so fun ta tease ,” Sans nudged him. His eyelights flicked around to scan for Duke. “though uh, if yer gonna gimme them digits, should probs do that soon, yeah?” He pulled out his phone to add his contact.

 

“Oh, like, uh—” Uno recited his number for Sans, who dutifully added him to his list.

 

“nice,” Sans grinned. “keep in touch then, ‘uno,” he winked, getting up and striding away.

 

“Wait bro, what about—”

 

“nope! gotta go!” Sans finger-gunned him before rounding a corner and ‘porting outta there. When he landed near his Hotland station, Sans pulled out his phone to type himself a note.

 

• Follow up with Uno, check. 

 

• Find a place to set them up, somewhere private: TBD. 

 

Sans still needed to ask Bruno what he preferred in an ideal dating spot, but Sans could think of numerous places already. It was probably better to wait on Bruno anyhow. No point in planning for something if the one it was for wasn’t part of it.

 

Before he forgot, Sans sent the guard rabbit a text.

 

>> guess who? lemme know when yer next available so we can talk location kay? <<

 

>>better yet<< Sans added, >>lemme tell ya where ta find me–<<

 

Sans listed places he knew he’d be at later today just in case Bruno missed him.

 

Now for date-spot hunting.

 

—

 

Now normally when Sans went on his own dates he’d take them to places he’d enjoy, like Grillby’s. But looking at the space itself compared to Bruno didn't seem to fit. Bruno had an air of small-town guy and just enough innocence and intimate repression that a casual spot like the bar might be too casual for him. Too many people in a small space, loud, a cheesy jukebox in the corner that usually played the same set of Human LPs that always seemed unironically sad or somehow dark and edgy. Yeah, not Uno at all. 

 

Now the MTT Wonderfully Evil Emporium on the other hand, that place was exciting. Mettaton had a series of strip malls within the place, as well as a “Passion Pit” Theater of sorts for those quite daring and needing an adrenaline rush. It had just enough options that it couldn’t be too boring for a first date, but something about the rest of the Emporium didn’t sit well with Sans. There were just too many things to do. Too distracting. 

 

But Sans was already here, and just as he was about to move to the next place, his phone rang.

 

“Dude—please tell me you’re like—available right now!”

 

“‘uno?” Sans turned around and there he was, running around the corner and nearly into him.

 

“Oh thank god I caught you,” Bruno hung up, “Undyne would like—kill me if she caught me here mid-shift but I had ta tell ya—”

 

“he say yes?” Sans grinned knowingly. Bruno broke out in the widest grin.

 

“More than yes! He wants to hang out, tonight!” Sans patted him as far as he could reach in congratulations.

 

“well, what are ya thinking?” Sans asked. “y’goin’ for the smooth, classy approach or a more casual one?”

 

“I—uh...I…?!” Befuddled, Uno looked to Sans pleadingly. By the Void this was too cute. Attempting to hide an amused smile, Sans motioned Uno closer. He had a great idea, perhaps the best idea for their ideal date spot.

 

“there’s a bench i seen, in waterfall,” Sans offered in a low whisper, “ totally secluded . no one goes there ever . so yer free ta do what cha want. only catch—there’s a secret ta gettin’ there.” Pulling away, Sans grinned invitingly, “waddya say?”

 

Uno nodded professionally, though with a gleeful giggle at the end. Sans offered a hand to seal the deal. 

 

“meet me outside yer barracks after yer shift,” Sans instructed. “we can talk favors after.”

 

“Anything you need Dude,” Uno said.

 

“no questions asked,” Sans finished. 

 

---

 

Sans, of course, arrived before the end of their shift, and spent some time scrolling through old pictures on his phone. Or at least, pictures of old pictures Gerson found of him and Papyrus as young squires back when they were first adopted. Sans stared longingly at the white eyelights they both had back then, before any of this hiding nonsense ended up becoming a necessity. Gerson himself always had a darker maroon color to his eyes whenever he’d use magic, but neither brother had seen them as red as they pretended to have now.

 

Taking a deep breath, Sans looked around and looked under his layers and through his ribcage. His soul beat red just behind his sternum, but he could turn it off. He always could. Steeling himself, Sans let his magic dissipate the aesthetic shield he and Papyrus learned to wield and peeked at his own soul.

 

It was white like he remembered, save for a very small tinge of pink. Like someone took a paintbrush to his soul and decided to smear a drop of red in there.

 

Sans stared at the blemish sightlessly. If he had a throat he’d be swallowing dryly.

 

Red was, in theory, something Sans figured you could never get rid of once it showed up without notice, without you wanting it there. But seeing that tinge now, in his own soul—scared him. He didn’t dust as many of the Forest Temmies as Papyrus did.

 

Was this what Papyrus was scared to show him? Was he worried that Sans would see him as…somehow impure or unclean? 

 

A text vibration interrupted his thought-spiraling.

 

Bruno.

 

Sans shakily exhaled and closed his sockets to let the magic reignite his eyelights red. And just in time too. Sans’ phone rang and he answered it with a practiced, but stiff smile.

 

“y’bout ready ‘uno?” He heard words of confirmation. Sans loosened his tense jaw and let his teeth set in an easy grin. “let’s get this show on th’road.”

 

—

 

“‘m gonna need ya gentle-monsters to cover yer eyes,” Sans instructed. “wouldn’t want ta spoil a good secret.” He watched as both Bruno and Duke shielded their eyes with large paws and claws before theatrically bringing them to the room he found when he was a babybones. He did forget about the sudden temperature difference, but Sans figured it’d be a welcome change being out of Hotland for once. “a’ight, feel free ta look.”

 

A lonely bench with a single echo flower greeted the three monsters. Sans leaned back as Uno removed his helmet entirely, drinking in the scenery. His eyes were practically starry with awe. Pleased at his reaction, Sans grinned. Spot on again Sans, and yer not even a dog. Uno returned the grin as Sans caught his attention and motioned he come closer.

 

“gimme a call yeah?” Sans said, gesturing so his thumb was to his nonexistent ear and pinky near his teeth, “when yer ready and done.” Uno cracked the widest smile. 

 

“Yeah Dude,” he answered. “And thanks. Thank you so much.” Winking, Sans finger-gunned him.

 

“don’t mention it,” he replied. “go get'em tiger.”

 

As Sans left for them to have their moment, he turned around the corner and added a note to his phone:

 

• remember ta check on 01 & 02 in quiche room

 

With a yawn, Sans stretched. He could give them at least an hour right? Maybe two? Sans had just enough time to check on Gerson, maybe even Wally. When was he meeting up with Papyrus again? Sans checked his phone. He definitely still had time.

 

Welp, his usual hidden Waterfall napping spot was currently taken. Where else could he catch a quick snooze? 

 

Sans summoned one last bit of magic and brought himself over to his old bedroom. He assessed the dusty storage barrels and shrugged as he leaned against the wall and sank to the ground. Taking two whole other monsters through his shortcut took way more out of him than he thought.

 

He’ll find his way back after a quick nap, Sans decided. 

 

They had the whole rest of the day to themselves after this.

 

He wondered what Papyrus had planned for them this afternoon as Sans drifted off to sleep.

Notes:

If you haven’t picked up on it, Drei is three in German, and Fyra is four in Swedish ;) Considering how Doge is present, I couldn’t help but add Royal Guards 03 and 04 in too.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of A Rogue What?!