The Bonechelor – Round 1

Introductions (previous)

Round 1 Bone Ceremony (next)

Week 1: Group Dates

Our esteemed bachelor is faced with the daunting task of going on multiple dates with the eight contestants. Fortunately for Cash, Twist has paired the contestants off to make things… a little less exhausting for our poor socially awkward boy.

But are some of the pairings a little too much for Cash to handle? Find out below!

Don’t forget to vote for who you want to be eliminated this round! The link will be at the end of the chapter and the poll will be open for a few days. Results of the poll will be announced at the end of the week with the first Bone Ceremony (not as sexy as it sounds).

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“So… yer schedule fer
today—ah, ya got Blue an’ Red up first, then later yer havin’ dinner with Pap
an’—hey, why so glum, Patches?”

Cash leaned back in
his armchair, pressing his fingers against his nasal bridge and sighing deeply.
“forgive me for bearing little enthusiasm for the notion of being auctioned off
like this.”

Twist smiled solemnly,
looking up from his clipboard and patting Cash’s shoulder affectionately. “Aw,
sweethear’, no one’s forcin’ ya ta do this. Yer the boss here—ya wanna call it
off, jus’ say the word.”

Cash gazed at the
burning logs in the hearth before him, the flames sparking and crackling.
Closing his eye, he inhaled deeply, the warm smoky scent soothing him. “no,” he
said at last. “just… who’s the dinner with?”

Twist grinned, turning
back to his clipboard. “Paps—an’ the Razzberry.”

Cash clenched his teeth,
and nodded stiffly, taking another deep breath. “right. great. fantastic.”

“An’ tomorrow mornin’
ya have Stretch an’ Edge fer breakfast,” Twist added, meeting Cash’s eye with a
smirk. “Delicious combo in my opinion.”

Cash blinked, lifting
a brow-bone. “stretch and edge? is that wise?”

Twist shrugged.
“Nah—but i’s entertainin’.”

“for whom?” Cash
muttered beneath his breath, slumping further into his armchair and leaning his
forehead against the palm of his hand.

“Slim an’ Sans fer
dinner after tha’—figured I’d let ya off easy fer the last one.” Twist knuckled
the crown of Cash’s skull, climbing off the chair’s arm. “Don’ worry,
love—you’ll knock ‘em dead.”

Cash rolled his eye,
folding his arms in contempt. “if they don’t knock me dead first.”

****

Red was the first to
arrive at Cash’s bedroom door the next morning. Surprisingly, he appeared to
have dressed for the occasion—well, inasmuch as one could expect from him. He’d
discarded his normal shorts for a pair of smart jeans, and his jacket looked as
if it might have been washed.

“heya, stash,” Red
said, giving Cash a mock-salute. “lookin’ fine.”

Cash could only nod in
response, swallowing down the nerves building in his chest. He shoved his hands
in his pockets and stared at the floor while they waited for Blue. Red seemed
unperturbed by Cash’s unresponsiveness, leaning against the doorframe and
watching him casually. After a few minutes of silence, he reached into his
pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. “smoke?” he asked, offering the box
to Cash.

Cash regarded the
brand with thinly veiled contempt, but accepted the offer nonetheless. He was
feeling rather jittery, after all. Red grinned at him as he lit his cigarette,
his gaze wandering over Cash—perhaps in a more curious than sultry manner. “not
really up ta scratch fer ya, are they?” he asked, taking a long drag and
breathing smoke from his nasal aperture.

“they’re fine,” Cash
muttered, inhaling the smoke and allowing it to curl in his ribcage. He tipped
his head back and let it flow between his teeth. Already, the unsteady hum of
his magic seemed to have settled.

Both Cash and Red’s
gazes were drawn by the sound of boots echoing off the marble floors. They
looked up to see Blue walking towards them, his shoulders drawn up proudly, and
a broad smile plastered across his face. Cash noticed the expression falter as
his eyes landed on their cigarettes, but he composed himself quickly. “Cash,”
he greeted, smiling brightly as he reached them. “Red,” he added, with a
cursory nod in Red’s direction. “I apologise for keeping you waiting.”

“no big, kid,” Red
said, his eyes not leaving Cash. “we were just chattin’.”

“Were you now?” Blue’s
gaze wandered briefly to Red, before returning to settle on Cash. “Well, you’re
looking lovely, Cash. Purple really is your colour!” He reached a hand up, as
if to place it on Cash’s arm—before quickly letting it drop, reconsidering.
Cash was more than relieved.

Red sniffed, pressing
his cigarette out against the doorframe and dropping the remnants into his
pocket. “ready ta head out?” he asked Cash.

“Oh, actually—I have
something to give to you, Cash,” Blue said, beaming.

Cash blinked, taken
aback. “oh, uh…” Reaching into his inventory, Blue produced a single violet
flower, the petals long and thin. Cash felt himself flushing as Blue handed it
to him. “it’s… a flower,” he remarked.

“An iris!” Blue told
him, proudly. “It has a number of significant meanings—though in this case, I’m
giving it to you as a gift of admiration.”

Flustered, Cash
swallowed, taking the flower and staring at it as if it were a very complicated
puzzle. “a-admiration for what?”

Blue faltered, and
Cash caught Red scoffing out of the corner of his eye socket. “W-well,” Blue
said, pausing for a moment, “I suppose I do admire your… candour.” Red appeared
to be having a lot of difficulty hiding his snickers, but Blue’s smile was
fierce. “And of course—your durability!”

“my… durability?” Cash
asked, a smirk twitching at the corners of his mouth as Blue’s eyes widened
with realisation.

“I—I mean
your—emotional durability! Not… not physical…” He trailed off, his cheekbones
glowing. “Shall we go, then?” he asked, a little forcefully.

“sure ya don’ have any
other admirations ya’d like ta share abou’ cash’s physicality?” Red asked, his
grin wide. “aren’t ya gonna ask him what his stamina’s like?”

“No! That isn’t
necessary,” Blue said, smiling pleasantly, and quickly looping his arm around
Cash’s. He was flushing so brightly, Cash felt a little more at ease about his
own nerves—or perhaps it was the lingering effects of the cigarette smoke.
Either way, his doubts about this first date had been adequately lessened.

Their brunch passed
smoothly—though Red seemed intent on bringing up Blue’s accidental slip-up
every ten or so minutes. Cash didn’t mind though. It took some of the attention
off him, and allowed him to lie back and listen to them bickering
good-naturedly while he ate.

Blue seemed fairly
insistent on showering him with praise—some of which Cash wasn’t entirely
inclined to believe. Especially when he started gushing about Cash’s
generosity. His bright demeanour was oddly relaxing however—Cash was more than
content to let him do most of the talking.

Red was a little more
reserved, only chipping in to contribute the occasional pun (or to ask Blue
what he thought of Cash’s sex-drive). He also seemed to be having a hard time
actually looking Cash in the eye—every time their gazes met, he would quickly
look away, sometimes clearing his throat or wringing his hands together.

When they departed at
the end of the ‘date’, Red fist-bumped him—and Blue touched his teeth to the
back of Cash’s hand in a light kiss. Cash was left so flustered, he almost
forgot that he was meant to be meeting Papyrus and Razz for their dinner-date
in a few hours.

Once again, a heavy
pit of dread settled in his soul.

****

“Wealthy Me!”

Cash flinched as
Papyrus leaned in—but instead of the expected hug, he touched his teeth to
Cash’s cheekbone in a light kiss. Cash had to remind himself not to gape as
Papyrus drew away. “Ah, I can always appreciate a Papyrus who dresses well,”
Papyrus said, beaming as he glanced over Cash.

“As can I.” They
looked up to see Razz approaching. He was smiling; Cash found the expression… a
little unsettling. He hummed as he reached them, regarding Cash appreciatively.
“Well, don’t you look dashing, love—that shade of plum suits you.” He
considered for a moment, his eye sockets narrowed. “Though I daresay—I would
far prefer to see you without all those layers on.”

“Razzberry!” Papyrus
scolded. “That is no way to speak to someone before the date has even begun.”
He leaned in, lowering his voice so that only Cash could hear him. “We ought to
save that for dessert~”

Cash’s face burned
under the combined attentions of both Razz and Papyrus, and he stammered
slightly, trying to scramble for a response. Chuckling softly, Razz took his
arm, smoothing his fingers over the back of Cash’s hand. “I’m not sure you’re
quite equipped to take care of someone so deliciously impeccable, Papyrus,” he
said coolly, smirking at Papyrus.

Papyrus sniffed
primly, taking Cash’s free hand and clasping it between both of his own. “I can’t
imagine someone of Cash’s taste would lower
his standards to your extent, Razzberry,” he quipped.

Razz’s face twitched,
but he collected himself, drawing his shoulders up. “I suppose we’ll have to
let him decide for himself who possesses the finesse required to satisfy him.”
He turned to Cash, his face melting into a salacious smile. “I’m sure we can trust
that you’ll come to the right decision, precious.”

“I’m sure we can,”
Papyrus said, squeezing Cash’s arm a little tighter.

Caught between them,
Cash could only nod, squeezing his eye sockets shut for a moment to regather
his composure. “right, um… could we maybe just have dinner first?” He tugged
his arms out of their grips, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Papyrus blinked,
quickly clearing his throat and drawing away. “Of course—my apologies, Wealthy
Me. It was not my intention to bring you any discomfort.”

Cash waved him off.
“i’m sure.” He shot Razz a frown, his sockets narrowed. “can’t say i’ve ever
trusted your intentions though, short-stack.”

Razz laughed softly,
though a trace of irritation tainted the sound. “So, you’re not just a pretty
face then, beanpole?” He hummed thoughtfully, leaning in. Cash’s breath caught
as Razz’s fingers grazed the base of his spine. “I’m sure there are other
pretty things about you too~”

“l-let’s head out,”
Cash rasped, swallowing back the magic settling in his mandible. He was
grateful when Papyrus smiled at him gently—the expression was a welcome balm to
the feeling of Razz’s arm around his waist (though Cash couldn’t deny the small
part of him that flickered with excitement when Razz’s fingers crept over his
iliac crest).

Surprisingly, the
evening passed smoothly. Well. As smoothly as one might expect with Razz
present. Though he behaved himself for the most part, his fingers would often
creep over Cash’s femur or brush across his ribs or spine. And he seemed completely
aware of the effect the ministrations were having on Cash, his smile smug but
enticing. For the most part however, he didn’t cross any boundaries.

Papyrus—while not
quite as forward as Razz—was fairly flirtatious himself. His compliments were a
lot gentler however, and his smiles were sweet enough to leave Cash with a
pleasant tingle in his chest. He listened intently to Cash whenever he spoke,
and when Razz’s mouth turned a little sour, he would quickly change the subject
to something more agreeable.

At the end of the
night, Papyrus hugged Cash tightly—and strangely, it felt nice. Razz was a
little less reserved, kissing Cash’s cheek delicately, while allowing his hands
to wonder over his spine and ribs. Cash shivered beneath the touch (and it
wasn’t an entirely unpleasant feeling).

When he finally made
it to bed, his magic was more than a little stirred. Whether it was a result of
Papyrus’ open kindness, or Razz’s unadulterated flirting—Cash couldn’t be entirely
certain.

****

When Cash emerged from
his room the next morning, Stretch and Edge were waiting for him on the landing
above the stairs. They were speaking in hushed voices, but glanced up when he
appeared. Stretch’s face broke out into a smile. “morning, patches.”

Cash blinked,
surprised (and a little suspicious) at Stretch’s use of Twist’s nickname for
him. But he nodded in response. “stretch—edgelord.” Edge offered him a
courteous tilt of his head, his features stiffly neutral.

Cash swallowed,
glancing between them. In truth, this was probably the date he’d been the most
doubtful of. It was common knowledge among the skeletons that Stretch and Edge
shared… a special sort of bond (though neither of them would ever admit to such
a thing). Amidst their banter was a hidden spark, and Cash couldn’t help but
feel that he was intruding upon something very personal.

His misgivings were
almost immediately dispelled however, when Stretch approached him and took his
hand. His smile was unwaveringly sweet, and the glow of magic on his cheekbones
revealed a trace of his own nervousness. The knowledge that he wasn’t the only
one with doubts calmed Cash considerably. He allowed Stretch to link their
fingers together, going so far as to return Stretch’s gentle squeeze of
reassurance.

Edge… was a somewhat
different matter. He hesitated before approaching them, and glanced down at
Cash’s hand with uncertainty. His eyes darted to Stretch—almost as if on
instinct. “don’t worry, edgelord—i’m sure he washed his hands this morning,”
Stretch teased, smirking at Edge.

Edge narrowed his eye
sockets at Stretch dully, before watching Cash carefully. “Do you mind if I…”
He cleared his throat, looking flustered.

“go for it, edgelord,”
Cash said, amused by Edge’s awkwardness. “i promise not to get too handsy with
you.”

With a put-upon sigh,
Edge rolled his eyes and took Cash’s hand. “I can assure you, if you do—you’ll
be leaving with fewer fingers than you arrived with,” he warned, though the
threat was fairly lacklustre.

Stretch glanced at
Edge as the descended the stairs, lifting a brow-bone. “well, it would be a shame
to waste such talented fingers…” Bringing Cash’s hand to his teeth, he kissed
it lightly.

Cash regarded him
evenly, then carefully pried his hand from Stretch’s grasp, cupping his jaw
instead. “impress me, and i might even let you sample them,” he purred. A light
dusting of gold coloured Stretch’s cheekbones. He quickly ducked his head and
shoved his hands in his pockets, but Cash caught a glimpse of a small grin
slowly spreading across his face.

“If you two want to
fuck after the first date—by all means, be my guest. Just don’t include me,”
Edge said, crisply.

Stretch tilted his
head. “are you sure you don’t want us to extend the invitation?” he questioned,
his smile widening as Edge flushed lightly.

“Positive,” Edge
muttered, releasing Cash’s hand and turning away. Cash didn’t miss the faint glow
of red on his face.

“don’t worry, edgelord—there
will be no fucking after the first date,” he said, holding Stretch with a firm
stare.

Stretch seemed
undeterred, leaning in to whisper, “during, then?”

Cash rolled his eye,
but conceded a small smile.

Twist had booked them
into a quaint breakfast parlour overlooking the gardens of Cash’s estate. When
they arrived, Cash was surprised by how close Edge and Stretch sat to him—he
was practically wedged between them. Neither of them acknowledged the fact
however, very studiously observing their menus.

Flustered, Cash tried
to focus on what to order, but found himself constantly distracted by the
gentle brush of Stretch’s fingers over his hand, and the way Edge would
occasionally nudge against him with his shoulder. While Cash was certain Stretch
was more than aware of what he was doing—he wasn’t entirely sure Edge’s
movements were intentional.

It was only when
Stretch leaned in close to whisper, “you look very pretty when you blush,”
against Cash’s acoustic meatus, that Edge’s gaze snapped up.

“Oh stop flirting and
pay attention to the date, you two,” he chided. Stretch snorted, and Cash
caught sight of the corners of Edge’s mouth twitching upward, his eyes
flickering to Stretch.

There was no chance
they hadn’t planned this, Cash decided.

When they parted ways,
Stretch hugged Cash gently. His soft scent flooded Cash’s senses, and Cash
found himself involuntarily leaning into his arms. Edge held back, looking a
little stiff. But his rare smile was enough to illicit a pleasant glow on
Cash’s cheekbones. He returned to his quarters with a warm feeling in his
chest, and a tingle of elation in his bones.

****

“hey, pal, why so
tense?” Sans asked, eyeing Cash.

Cash swallowed
thickly, wringing his hands together. “i’m not tense,” he said, a little
sharply. Sans regarded him dubiously and he sighed in concession. “i’m just…
feeling kinda worn out.”

Sans grinned, lifting
a brow-bone. “yeah? so who was it? my cash is on the edgelord—” He broke off,
stifling a snort in his sleeve. “heh. sorry. bad joke.”

Cash surveyed him
dryly, folding his arms. “you mistake me for someone without dignity,” he said,
tersely.

“ain’t nothing
undignified about putting out on the first date,” Sans told him. “though tibia
honest—” Cash rolled his eye-light “—you don’t really seem the type. so what’s
eating you—if not edge?”

Cash was quiet for a
moment, staring idly at the floor. Then, with a tired sigh, he tipped his head
back, closing his eye. “dating isn’t really my forte,” he admitted. “i’d rather
let you all fuck me and give the money to whoever lasts the longest.”

Sans snickered. “sure
there are some us who’d find that agreeable.” He looked over Cash’s shoulder,
and his smile softened. “think you might find that others are worth the
trouble.”

Cash followed his
gaze, and his soul fluttered as he saw Slim approaching. Slim smiled as his
eyes found Cash, and he dipped his head, a pale amber flush rising to his
cheekbones. “hey,” he murmured.

“sup, bud?” Sans said,
grinning. “you’re looking nice.”

Slim blushed harder,
stammering his thanks. His eyes wandered to Cash, but dropped quickly when he
saw that Cash was watching him. Cash caught Sans eyeing him deliberately, and
he quickly cleared his throat. “uh. yeah. very nice.” He hurriedly averted his
gaze, burying his hands in his pockets and allowing his shoulders to slump.

“th-thank you,” Slim
said, softly. Cash’s soul gave a pleasant clench, and a glimmer of a smile
tugged at his mouth.

“you boneheads ready
to skeledaddle?” Sans asked. Slim nodded, his eyes darting to Cash, who quickly
heaved himself from the doorframe.

“yeah. let’s head
out,” he said, his voice tight with nerves. He was surprised when Sans linked
their arms, grinning up at him casually. Cash narrowed his eye socket
suspiciously, and Sans’ gaze flickered to Slim before returning to Cash,
brow-bones lifted. Cash glanced at Slim, clearing his throat. “do you, um…?” He
held out his hand, fingers trembling.

Slim regarded it,
blinking. “oh, i…w-what?” He looked flustered, clasping his hands in front of
him and twisting them together.

“he wants to know if
you wanna hold his hand,” Sans stated loudly. Cash gave him a sharp look, magic
rising to his cheekbones. He quickly turned back to Slim, who was looking
extremely awkward, his eye sockets squeezed shut and his cheekbones all but
alight.

“you—don’t have to,”
Cash said quickly.

“do you… want me to?”
Slim asked carefully.

Cash gawked, his words
sticking in his throat. “w-well. i—i, uh…”

Leaning across Cash to
regard Slim, Sans whispered, “he does.”

Frustrated, Cash
yanked his arm from Sans’ grip, earning him a broad grin. “s-sorry,” he
stammered, looking at Slim. “it’s—it’s a juvenile tradition. there’s no need
to—” A small noise of surprise escaped him as Slim linked their hands together.

“it’s… not so bad,”
Slim whispered, something a little mischievous dancing in his eyes. Seeming to
realise himself, he quickly averted his gaze.

Cash felt frozen, his
soul thumping furiously in his ribcage. Seeing Sans’ thinly veiled look of
amusement, he quickly composed himself, drawing his shoulders up. “right. if
that’s what you want then… i won’t stop you.” Decisively, he took a hold of
Sans’ hand and guided them towards the stairs. “let’s just… get this over
with.”

Cash ignored the
twinge of guilt he felt as Slim’s smile faded.

The date passed
without hitch—and it occurred to Cash that Twist had been a lot more strategic
with his pairings than Cash had originally considered. Slim wasn’t particularly
talkative—and Cash could make no claim to being an expert conversationalist
himself—but Sans easily filled the silence with idle banter and the odd pun.

Cash was grateful for
the distraction. He seemed to be having a significant amount of difficulty
looking at Slim directly—talking was virtually impossible. A few times, he
caught Slim looking at him. But as soon as their gazes met, Slim would
hurriedly duck his head.

When their date drew
to a close, Cash couldn’t decide whether to be disappointed or relieved. While
spending time with Sans and Slim was… not unpleasant—he wasn’t confident in his
ability to withstand his own anxieties much longer.

Sans shot Cash a
departing grin and nod outside his room, before leaving him alone with Slim.
For a few seconds, silence ticked between them. Cash could feel his soul
pumping erratically. He was grateful when Slim broke the silence by saying,
“thanks, cash. that—it was… nice.”

Cash willed himself to
suppress the blush that threatened to colour his cheekbones, offering Slim a
tight nod. “yeah. it’s—it’s fine.” He sniffed, straightening his jacket.
“well—goodnight,” he said hastily, hurrying into his room before Slim could
respond.

Leaning against the
door, he exhaled. His mind felt static with nerves and excitement. He was
proud, at least, that he’d managed to get through the first week’s dates.
Dropping back onto his soft mattress, he closed his eye socket, inhaling
slowly.

His brief, peaceful
daze was broken by the sudden, insistent buzzing of his phone. He clenched his
teeth as he saw who the caller was, answering with a huff. “what is it,
twisted?”

“Patches! How was th’
last date? Ya have fun with the Pup?”

Sighing, Cash sat up,
propping himself up against the headboard. “sans and slim were both adequate
companions,” he said monotonously. He ignored Twist’s soft snickers.

“I’m sure. So, ya
ready ta make yer first decision?”

Cash stiffened. “you
mean…?”

“Gotta pick someone ta
eliminate,” Twist told him. “Got anyone in mind?”

“i…” Cash considered,
his brow creasing.

“Sleep on it.
Ceremony’s tomorrow.” Twist was silent for a moment. Then—“Any definitely
stayin’?”

Cash pinched his nasal
bridge, slumping against his bed’s comfy cushions. “can you let me sleep,
twisted? i’m tired.”

“Aw, Patches—c’mon.
Jus’ between us—who’d ya like the most? Any a’ them boyfrien’ material? Any a’
them bedr—”

Cash hung up, dropping
his phone on the bed beside him and letting his eye socket drift closed. Though
at first he’d assumed this would be the easy part—the prospect of eliminating
someone now seemed rather daunting now. The dates had been… tolerable. Perhaps
even pleasant—which was something he hadn’t been anticipating. It had been nice
to feel… wanted.

He quickly reminded
himself that the only reason he was wanted was because of the reward that
accompanied spending time with him.

Still. It had been
nice. Cash was almost reluctant to let any of them go.

Almost. He did have
someone in mind…


It’s time to cast your votes!

Click here to pick who Cash eliminates in the first round.

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