skeleton knife

Honeymustard Collection 14

Man I’m gonna need some quality sin after this much fluff.



“Ow – fuck!”

Papyrus glanced up from the pot of boiling water to where he’d left Red chopping carrots for their dinner soup. The smaller skeleton had dropped the knife on the cutting board, his thumb stuck in his mouth and his brow knitted in pain. Papyrus took a short step to Red’s side and lifted a hand to his wrist, giving it an asking tug.

“C’mon, let me see,” Papyrus said.

Red rolled his eyes and took his thumb from his mouth, showing Papyrus the thin line of rising blood where Red had slipped up and nicked himself while chopping.

“Hmm,” Papyrus hummed, turning Red’s hand over in his own, “not too bad. Let me just…”

Papyrus lifted Red’s hand and took the smaller skeleton’s thumb in his mouth, sucking softly and rolling his tongue across the bone with a playful grin. Red flushed and yanked his hand back, smacking his elbow on the edge of the counter in the process.

“The fuck you doing?” Red growled, cradling his arm. “Ya weirdo.”

Papyrus chuckled, turning the stove off and plucking at the hood of Red’s jacket.

“Sorry, sorry – but seriously, let’s put a band aid on that or something.”

Red grumbled but followed the taller skeleton into the living room anyway, sitting down on one of the couch’s armrests while Papyrus fetched the first aid kit. Papyrus opened the little kit Sans had put together during one of his “emergency preparedness” phases and blinked in surprise. Damn, they were running low on supplies. Funny, he remembered stocking it not too long ago…

Papyrus glanced toward the living room where Red sat examining his thumb. Oh…right…

Papyrus raised a hand to the back of his neck and scratched at the vertebrae absentmindedly. Damn, he’d almost forgotten that first night. It’d taken most of the supplies in Sans’s little kit just to patch Red back together with how badly he showed up on the doorstep…

Papyrus opened the front door with a furrowed brow, nose catching a whiff of burnt magic in the air. He’d heard an almighty crack that had nearly made him drop his cigarette on the living room floor and thought it best to investigate. It was late – almost too dark out for him to see much, but the light in the house cast a cone of visibility over the snow just far enough for Papyrus to spot a…lump?

No, a body. A body curled in the snow.

Papyrus’s soul jumped and he took a few hesitant steps outside, the cold air rolling over him and making him grateful for his hoodie.

“Sans?”

No – that didn’t make any sense. Sans was in Waterfall with Undyne. But it was so weird – even curled in on itself the figure on the ground looked an awful lot like his little brother. Same build, same weight, same height. Papyrus took another few steps and halted suddenly.

Burning. He smelled burning. Like…sulfur burning, and magic burning, and fire burning all mixed together. It smelled…dangerous, to put it mildly. Dropping his forgotten cigarette in the snow, Papyrus squatted down an arms-length from the body and summoned a bone, giving the figure a solid, wary push with its blunted end.

The body unfolded and…huh – well, damn. Another skeleton?

Something clicked in the back of Papyrus’s skull and he frowned. It’d been a while since he’d looked into alternative timeline theory. But that cracking sound, and that godawful smell, and the state of this “other” Sans all seemed to be pointing toward…

Papyrus blinked, his soul missing a beat.

Blood? Was that blood in the snow?

Shit – that was…a lot of fucking blood. Already the snow beneath the other Sans was haloed in a pale pink that rapidly transitioned into a bright, soaked red. The small skeleton wasn’t moving and the more Papyrus’s eyesight adjusted to the poor lighting the faster his soul thumped. Angry red scrapes covered most of this other skeleton’s face and the one shoulder of his jacket was damp and black from whatever wound it covered. His mouth was slack and his eye sockets dark, the only movement being the stirring of the ragged fur on the hood of his jacket in the slight wind.

Papyrus glanced over his shoulder at his audience of shadows and snow. This was…bad. Or rather, just – not right. If alternative timeline theory wasn’t so much of a theory after all and this other skeleton really was from another timeline the implications were…complicated. Papyrus wasn’t sure he could fix this…

He watched the smaller skeleton’s slightly exposed ribcage for any sign of movement.

Nothing.

Well…maybe he wouldn’t have to. What would happen if this other skeleton was dusted in a timeline that wasn’t his own? Would he reset back to his original timeline? Would he just…cease to exist? Papyrus contemplated the body for a long moment. If Sans were here he would insist they bring this strange monster inside and attempt to patch him up.

Papyrus tilted the bone toward the curled-up skeleton’s throat, adjusting his magic so the blunted end became a sharpened point. Maybe it was a good thing Sans wasn’t around for this. It would probably be best if he just put the poor monster out of his misery quickly…

The bone tapped something hard – something not bone. Papyrus cocked his head questioningly, trying to get a better look at the other skeleton’s shadowed face and throat. Was that…a dog collar? Papyrus’s gaze flickered from the studded collar to the small monster’s face. He regretted it immediately.

Shit, he really did look like his brother. If not for the…scars and that terrible crack and all the blood…

Papyrus sighed and allowed his magic to dissipate, the sharpened bone at the other skeleton’s throat fading away into orange wisps. Stifling his better judgement, Papyrus gathered the disheveled monster up, surprised at how light he was compared to Sans’s sturdy weight, and turned toward the house. Maybe he could bring him back around. Maybe he couldn’t. Either way he wasn’t about the let someone who resembled his little brother so closely bleed to death in a snow bank.

And the first thing he was going to do was get rid of that fucking collar…

“Oi!”

Papyrus startled, fumbling the roll of bandage tape he’d been turning over absently in his hand. Red blinked up at him, having abandoned his perch on the armrest of the couch, his head cocked in question.

“What cloud are you on, Stretch?”

Papyrus chuckled, picking up Red’s hand and winding a short length of the tape around the cut on the smaller skeleton’s thumb. Red curled and uncurled his phalanges experimentally, making to turn away, oblivious to Papyrus’s reminiscing, when he was halted by the taller skeleton looping both arms around his chest from behind and yanking him backward against his ribcage. Papyrus buried his face in the crook of Red’s neck and took a deep breath of his smoky smell, ignoring Red’s yelped protest and halfhearted squirming.

“The hell’s wrong with you tonight?” Red muttered, giving in to the other’s embrace.

Papyrus shrugged the best he could while still keeping a tight hold on Red.

“Eh, nothing. Just thinking is all. Hey, Red?”

Red grunted evasively.

“Can I have a kiss?”

Red stiffened a bit, like he usually did.

“Please?” Papyrus muttered, surprising himself with how much he suddenly felt he needed this. Red heaved an exaggerated sigh and twisted around in the taller skeleton’s arms, lifting himself up on his tiptoes in order to press his mouth against Papyrus’s.

They stayed like that for a moment and Papyrus was grateful Red allowed it. He didn’t even flinch when Papyrus kissed him twice more and laced their phalanges together. And Papyrus wasn’t sure how exactly, but he could’ve sworn that crack on Red’s skull looked a little…better…