Round 4 Bone Ceremony (previous)
Week 5: Camping
(Still in the middle of exams, but I took a break to write this chapter. It ended up going for wayyyy longer than I intended!)
What better way to bond than a couples’ getaway to the mountains? A spontaneous camping trip–organised by no other than the ever-creative host–yields some very… interesting moments. How will Cash handle the daunting task of sharing a tent with the remaining contestants? Let’s see!
Don’t forget to vote for this week’s elimination at the end of the chapter!
🌸🌸🌸🌸💀💀💀💀
The open road
stretched for miles ahead, weaving into the mountains that loomed on the horizon.
Though heavy grey clouds blanketed the sky, slivers of sunlight glanced off the
snow-capped hills in the distance.
Cash could smell pine
and heather in the air outside his rolled-down window. He leaned on his elbow
against the frame as he drove, enjoying the rush of wind. He could see Stretch
asleep on Edge’s shoulder in the car’s rear-view mirror, and behind them, Slim
and Papyrus, talking quietly. The moment of peace was almost enough to dispel
any thoughts of the impending trial ahead of him.
He glanced at Twist,
who was sitting in the passenger seat beside him. “feet off my dashboard,
twisted,” he chided softly, so as not to wake Stretch or Edge. Twist eyed him
with a smirk before dropping his feet to the floor. Cash focused on the road,
but he could feel Twist watching him. “no. not talking about it,” he said, when
Twist opened his mouth.
Twist raised his hands
in surrender and shut his mouth, leaning back. Cash breathed internally,
relieved—if not surprised—that Twist wasn’t pushing him. He rolled up his
window at the sudden icy spit of rain on his ulna. The downpour started
quickly, and soon they were driving with the headlights on and the windscreen
wipers at full speed, the road ahead blurred by sheets of rain. Cash didn’t
mind rain normally, but the knowledge that they’d be spending the next couple
of nights in tents dampened his spirits.
“Guess tha’s a no ta
roastin’ marshmallows,” Twist said, sounding genuinely glum.
“you don’t even eat
marshmallows,” Cash pointed out.
“Doesn’ mean I can’
appreciate the fine art a’ gettin’ ‘em perfectly crispy,” Twist replied,
crossing his arms. “Plus—” he winked “—sticky fingers ‘re always fun.”
Cash very nearly
contemplated pulling over to slap him.
Blessedly, the rain
had stopped when they reached their campsite, which was unsurprisingly empty—given
that it was the middle of the week. And freezing cold. The grass was thick,
crunching beneath Cash’s sneakers as he climbed out of the car. He could feel
the oozing mud beneath it, and grimaced. “you pitching the tents?” he asked
Twist.
“Though’ we could do
it together,” Twist said, grinning.
Cash scowled. The
others were already pulling their camping gear from the back of the truck, with
an off-putting degree of enthusiasm. “i’m good,” Cash said, flatly. He shivered
as the icy wind picked up, passing straight through his ribcage. Twist observed
him with a tilt of his head.
“Aw, cold,
sweetheart?”
“well, yeah, a
little—”
“A bit a’ movin’
around should warm ya righ’ up!” he said, throwing an arm around Cash’s shoulders
and leading him to the back of the truck. “Help me pitch our tent?”
“i don’t even know how
to—wait, did you say our tent?”
“Yeah! Well—fer
tonight. Tomorrow yer with Edgy and the honey drop. Day after’s Papy and the
puppy.” Twist grinned, clearly pleased with his orchestration. “Excited?”
“twist. look at my
face—very hard—and tell me if i’m
excited.”
Unsurprisingly, Twist
didn’t quite catch on to Cash’s disgruntlement at the sleeping arrangements. It
started to rain later in the evening, driving them all into their tents early.
Truthfully, Cash didn’t mind. The day of driving had worn him out (as had
Twist’s tent-pitching lesson) and sleep was a welcome activity. And—had it not
been for Twist’s near-naked state when Cash entered the tent—sleep might even
have been achievable.
“twist—fuck!” Cash
made a noise he would not have been proud of under typical circumstances. But
given the sight of Twist’s bare bones, the cogs of his mind were a little
jammed. “put—put some damn clothes on!”
Twist turned around,
and Cash slapped a hand over his eye socket. “Aw, Patches, there’s no need fer
that—I don’ mind if ya see me naked.”
“i mind,” Cash said, exasperated.
“Ah.” Twist didn’t
sound embarrassed, but there was a sheepish note to his tone. “Gotcha. Pyjamas
‘re goin’ back on.”
“back on? why didn’t they stay
on in the first place?”
“Hey, I like sleepin’
bare boned. Gives me more freedom.”
Cash inhaled through
his nasal aperture, then exhaled slowly between his teeth. “we’re sharing. a
mattress. twist.”
“Alrigh’, alrigh’, I
hear ya. Clothes ‘re back on.”
Cash cracked open his
socket in time to see Twist pulling his shirt over his head. He caught a
glimpse of the scars and lashes across his back, and glanced away; it felt
somehow more personal seeing Twist’s scars than it did seeing his entire bare
pelvis.
Once they were both
dressed (Twist very respectfully looked away while Cash changed), they climbed
into their sleeping bags on the inflatable mattress. “this thing is waterproof,
right?” Cash asked, eyeing the tent walls, which shuddered beneath the heavy
rain.
“Uh… hm. Didn’ check
actually.” Twist grinned, scratching the back of his skull. “Yes?”
Cash cast him a sharp
glance before turning onto his side, facing away from him. He felt the mattress
shift beneath Twist’s weight as he shifted beside him, moving closer. “… what
are you doing, twisted?”
“Yer shiverin’,” Twist
remarked.
Cash grimaced and
wrapped his arms tighter around himself, trying to snuggle deeper into his
sleeping bag. “no, i’m not.”
“I can hear yer rattlin’
bones, sweetheart.”
Cash huffed. “so
what?”
“Well, body heat does
wonders fer—”
“fuck off, twist. let
me sleep.”
Twist was silent for a
few seconds before conceding. “Fine. Bu’ don’ go freezin’ ta death. The others
would be very disappointed if we had ta end the contest early.”
Cash had to bury his
surprised laugh in his sleeve, trying to pass it off as a cough. “’night,
twisted.”
“Love ya too,
Patches.”
****
“are you fucking with
me? hiking?”
Twist beamed. “Hell
yeah. Great group activity.”
“twisted, it’s
raining.” Cash scowled, glancing outside at the downpour. They’d managed to set
up a tarp for shelter—and thankfully, the tents had proven to be waterproof
(though Stretch had still complained about ‘getting wet’ last night, and had
earned himself a smack on the shoulder from Edge).
“As much as I enjoy
hiking, Twist, I’m afraid I’m with Cash on this one,” Edge said. “Drenching
myself in mud is not a good use of my time.”
“Nor mine,” Papyrus
agreed. “And I don’t think it would be good for the health of Small Me.” He
eyed Slim sympathetically. “He didn’t sleep very well last night.” When they
all stared at him in shock, he tutted, adding, “Not for the crude reasons Lazy
Me has been insinuating—he couldn’t keep warm.”
“and you didn’t offer
any assistance?” Stretch asked, the corner of his mouth curling up.
Papyrus drew his
shoulders up, sniffing. “Of course I offered! Body heat does wonders for
staving off the cold.” Twist nudged Cash, giving him a deliberate look, and
Cash rolled his eye-light. “Small Me was simply… not in the mood for cuddling.”
Papyrus spoke with poise, but Cash could almost detect a hint of hurt in his
tone. Slim had his head bowed and his arms around himself, as if trying to make
himself very small.
Silence fell over the
group—and not an entirely comfortable silence. Cash fiddled with his lighter in
his coat pocket, itching for a cigarette but knowing he’d be heavily chastised
for it by at least half the company present. He was grateful when Twist spoke
up, declaring that they ought to get started on breakfast. There was quick
consensus on the decision.
The downpour of rain had
slowed to a drizzle by late afternoon, and when dinner rolled around, the sky
was clear and starry. While Papyrus and Edge got a fire going, Twist, Slim, and
Stretch retrieved the camping chairs from the back of the truck. “Yer in charge
a’ the marshmallows,” Twist told Cash, to which Cash responded with a rude
gesture that Twist turned around just in time to miss.
When Cash returned
with the marshmallows and adequately long sticks to roast them with, the fire
was crackling and the chairs were set out. Only…
“Huh. We seem ta be
short a chair,” Twist said, surveying the set up thoughtfully.
“I’ll stand,” Edge
offered, getting up.
“No, no.” Twist waved
him off. “Don’ worry ‘bout that. No one has ta stand. Someone’ll just have ta
sit in someone’s lap.” The group fell silent, and Twist looked exasperated.
“What? No volunteers?”
“i nominate the
bachelor,” Stretch said, and Cash shot him a glare. Twist seemed pleased with
the idea however, clapping his hands together.
“Ah, perfect! You c’n
alternate, Patches. Give everyone a fair chance.”
“what? no,” Cash exclaimed, horrified. He
glanced over the group frantically. “why me?”
“you’re the bachelor,”
Stretch reminded him.
“yes, thank you, dick,” Cash snapped at him,
irritably. Stretch shrugged and leaned back in his chair, unperturbed.
“twisted—you’re not actually going to force me to do this are you?”
“Aw, ‘course not,
sweetheart.” Twist stood up and circled the campfire to squeeze Cash’s
shoulders. “You c’n have my chair.”
Cash blinked. “wait,
that’s not what i—”
“Twisted Me! How
presumptuous of you.” Papyrus stood up too, sighing laboriously. “As the
greatest of Papyruses present—no offence intended—it would be my honour to
accept the standing role.”
“pap,” Cash said,
shaking his head, “you really don’t have to—”
“Oh, come now,” Edge
said, sighing. He too, got up, standing beside Twist and Papyrus and regarding
them with a look some might have deemed condescending. “As the one with the
most combat training—and prowess—I ought to stand. If we were to be attacked, I
would make the best first line of defence.”
Stretch snorted,
earning himself a glare from Edge. Twist was shaking his head though,
chuckling. He patted Edge’s arm, giving him a look one might give a child when
teaching them a new life lesson. “Aw. Precious. Yer great. But… c’mon.” He
indicated himself sweepingly. “’m more durable fer one.”
Edge scoffed, drawing
himself up. “And what does that have to do with competence?”
Twist snickered and
cast a wink in Cash’s direction. “A whole lot. Lemme tell ya.”
Stretch and Slim were
both trying to stifle their laughter, while Edge and Papyrus just looked
frustrated. Patience diminishing, Cash said, “alright—for fuck’s sake! you’re
both great fighters—”
“Wasn’ talkin’ abou’
fightin’, Patches.”
“—i’ll just sit on
someone’s bloody lap,” Cash finished, ignoring Twist’s wise quip. He marched
over to Stretch. “and since you’re the asshole who suggested it, you get to
have me first.”
Stretch winced a
little as Cash plopped himself down heavily, but laughed nonetheless, leaning
forward to wrap his arms around Cash’s waist. “i’ll gladly have you first,
love.”
By some miracle, the
remainder of the evening passed without event—other than Cash’s constant
lap-switching, that is. It was only when Twist pointed out that Slim was dozing
(one of his arms still looped casually around Cash’s waist) that they decided
to call it a night. Cash awkwardly shook Slim awake, and couldn’t help but mirror
the blush that spread across Slim’s face upon realising he’d fallen asleep with
Cash in his lap.
After clearing up the
chairs and extinguishing the remaining embers of the fire (an act that had
earned raised brow bones from the two Tale-verse monsters), they all headed for
their respective tents. Cash hesitated outside Edge and Stretch’s tent,
glancing at Twist. “are you… going to be okay by yourself?” he asked,
uncharacteristically concerned for the big idiot.
Twist faltered briefly
before responding, his smile easy and relaxed. “Yeah. ‘Course. Sleep tight,
Patches.” He winked. “An’ don’ be afraid ta have a little fun.”
“ugh.” Cash shot Twist
his middle finger before ducking into Edge and Stretch’s tent. It was dark, but
he could see them already lying side-by-side on the bed. “there isn’t going to
be any…” He gestured vaguely. “tent fucking, is there?”
“well, so much for
subtlety,” Stretch said, while Edge’s blush glowed through the darkness.
“and—no.”
Cash shrugged,
slipping off his jacket and pulling his pyjamas out of the travel pack in his
inventory. “was there any last night?”
Silence.
“…no?” Stretch sounded
less confident.
“fucking brilliant,”
Cash grumbled as he changed.
“well. yeah.”
“For fuck’s sake!”
Edge cried, burying his face in his hands.
“yeah—that’s what
we’re talking about, love,” Stretch murmured, prying his hands away from his
face.
Edge pulled away from
him and sighed, burrowing deeper into his sleeping bag. “Goodnight. Both of
you. I will kindly ask that there isn’t any sexual intercourse while I’m
asleep.”
“we’ll wake you up for
that,” Cash muttered. Stretch grinned at him, while Edge shot him his middle
finger.
Huh. Cash wasn’t
normally the one on the receiving end of those gestures.
When dressed, he
hovered awkwardly beside the mattress, unsure where his place was in all this.
As if reading his mind, Stretch scooched aside, making room. “you’re in the
middle, sweetheart,” he said, smiling.
Cash paused, still
uncertain. “i… don’t know if…”
“keep us honest,”
Stretch said.
“I don’t think there’s
anything that can keep you honest,” Edge mumbled from somewhere in his sleeping
bag.
Stretch grinned, his
cheekbones brightening. “he’s right, but your effort will be appreciated.”
With some difficulty,
Cash managed to clamber over Stretch, wedging himself between him and Edge at
the centre of the mattress. He pulled his sleeping bag out and zipped it right
up to his shoulders, cursing his shaking bones. Clearly, he wasn’t built for
the cold.
“If you keep rattling
like that, I’m not going to get a wink of sleep,” Edge complained.
Cash scowled at his
back, trying to hold himself tighter. “you think i’m doing it on purpose,
twat?” He startled when Stretch shifted up behind him, pressing into his back.
“need some body heat?”
Cash might have
protested, only… Stretch was awfully warm. And that ever-present aura of
Tale-verse sweetness was doing wonders for Cash’s lingering doubts about his
intrusiveness. “maybe a little,” he muttered, relinquishing. Stretch hummed and
snuggled closer. “not that much,” Cash warned, and Stretch chuckled, drawing
back.
“got it. hey—edgelord?
you gonna help keep our bachelor warm?”
“You seem to be
managing just fine,” Edge mumbled. Cash detected a note of dejection in his
voice, and frowned.
“i’m, uh, still a
little cold actually,” he said, stiffly. “i could use the extra body.”
Edge’s put-upon sigh
echoed in the stillness of the tent, but he turned over. His expression
betrayed little, but Cash caught him eyeing Stretch. He shuffled closer and
sandwiched Cash between himself and Stretch. “I suppose I could spare a little
heat,” he mumbled.
“you always were the
giving type,” Stretch said, a smirk in his voice.
“And it’s nothing but
taking with you,” Edge retorted, though not without amusement.
Cash listened to them
bicker good-naturedly for a few minutes before dozing off—but not before he
felt their hands linking together across him. And strangely, Cash didn’t feel
like an intruder—but rather, an honoured guest, graced with the opportunity to
share one of their most intimate moments.
He slept well that
night.
****
One drawback of the
rainy period of their getaway ending, was that there was nothing more stopping
Twist from insisting that everyone
join him on his hike. His 7am hike. Though sleeping between Edge and Stretch
all night had been comfortable, Cash was very disgruntled at being shaken awake
by an all-too-energetic Twist at six in the morning.
And perhaps more
infuriating, was the fact that Stretch somehow managed to wheedle his way out
of going—Cash had no such luck. “Yer the bachelor, it’s compulsory!” Twist told
him, clapping him on the back enthusiastically. “C’mon, you’ll have fun.
Promise.”
“i think it’s long
been established that you and i have very different definitions of fun,
twisted,” Cash groused as they trudged towards the hiking path.
The morning was crisp
and chilly, and Cash had bundled himself in as many layers as he could scavenge
from the others, his own wardrobe designed for appearance rather than comfort.
He was still shivering, despite the warm sunlight that glanced off the
snow-kissed grass. Twist was a little too energetic for him to keep up with, so
he fell behind, ending up with Slim, who was also having difficulty matching
the paces of the three more athletic skeletons. He smiled at Cash and they
walked in silence.
When Cash’s bones
began to warm up, the walk gradually grew pleasant. The mountain they were
heading up was one of the smaller ones (Twist had been eager to tackle the biggest one—but even Papyrus had refused
to partake in such an expedition). The mountain’s slopes were coated in
heather, which swayed in the wind, and the stiff grass crunched beneath their
feet as they walked, a satisfying sound to fill the silence.
They reached the top
of the mountain before midday, by which time Cash’s bones and feet were aching.
“we have to go back down, too?” he whined, slumping back onto the bench at the
lookout point. “can’t we just teleport back?”
“Maybe if Stretch were
here,” Twist said, “but I don’ think you or the puppy can handle teleportin’
two people at once over such a long distance.”
“i am going to murder
that lazy bastard when we get back,” Cash grumbled beneath his breath. He
couldn’t argue with the point though—Slim was looking just about as worn out as
he was feeling. “fine. but i’m resting first. do we have any snacks?”
Twist rummaged in his
inventory and handed Cash a bottle. “Sea tea!”
Cash eyed it, reading
the label carefully. “isn’t this the one that you use for…?”
“It—” Twist’s eye
sockets widened and he quickly snatched the bottle away. “Ha. Woops! Have this
one instead.” He considered after handing Cash the correct bottle, glancing at
Slim. “Although… ya might wanna keep the other one too. Y’know? Fer later
tonight?” He lifted a brow bone suggestively, and Cash pulled a face, gulping down
the regular Sea Tea.
“i’m good.”
“Ya sure?” Twist
looked dubious. “’Cause if yer stamina in the bedroom—or the tent, in this
case—is anythin’ like yer hikin’ stamina, then—”
“i’m not fucking anyone,
twisted!” Cash snapped, so loudly, Edge and Papyrus glanced at him from where
they were standing on the ledge some twenty feet away. Cash scowled and slumped
in his seat, sipping at the tea. He inhaled as the fresh magic flowed through
him, restoring some of the mana he’d lost in the hike.
He glanced at Slim, surprised
to see that his cheekbones were glowing a light amber. “uh… sea tea?” he
offered, feeling awkward.
Slim took the bottle
and sipped at it, thanking Cash quietly while averting his eye-lights. Why was
he…? Oh—stars. Had it been the fucking thing? Was he that repelled by the idea?
Or…
Was he actually disappointed that Cash had said
they wouldn’t be fucking? Had he been expecting it? Did he think Cash had been
doing that with Stretch and Edge? Had… had he and Papyrus been—?
Cash swallowed back
the magic that had begun to pool in his mandible, cursing Twist and his damn
sea tea.
The hike back was
significantly quicker than the hike up had been—a mixture of both the sea tea
and the downhill trek. Irritatingly, Stretch was napping in his tent when they
arrived back at the campsite. Cash was jealous. Then again…
He thought back to
Slim. Maybe the hike hadn’t been a complete misuse of time.
By the time night
came, the effects of the sea tea had worn off, and Cash was feeling tired. He
announced that he’d be heading to bed early, and thankfully, no one protested,
not even Twist (by some miracle). Cash had just climbed into his sleeping bag
in Slim and Papyrus’ tent when the zip opened and Slim climbed in. “thought i’d
make it an early night too,” he said, smiling.
Cash only nodded,
watching him as he stripped off his jacket and numerable other layers. He only
realised he’d been staring when Slim cleared his throat. “mind, uh, not
looking?” Slim sounded almost regretful, as if he’d rather Cash—
Nope. No.
That was definitely Cash’s imagination. He quickly nodded and averted his gaze,
looking up again only when he felt Slim settling onto the mattress beside him.
They lay in silence for a few long minutes, neither of them finding the right
words to break it. Eventually, Slim rolled onto his side away from Cash. “well.
‘night,” he murmured.
“yeah—uh. goodnight,”
Cash replied. Sleep seemed far beyond him now, his mind suddenly alive and
enthusiastic. He turned over and cradled himself, muttering a curse when his
bones started rattling again from cold.
It took him a few
minutes to realise that he wasn’t the only one shivering. The quiet clicking of
Slim’s bones was arguably louder than his own. “you cold?” Cash asked, clearing
his throat.
“bit. yeah.”
“huh.” Cash clenched
his teeth and squeezed his socket shut. eloquent
response, asshole, his mind supplied, unhelpfully. “well, i, uh—i hear body
heat—”
“—does wonders for
staving off the cold?”
Cash coughed. “well.
yeah.”
Slim chuckled quietly.
“papyrus has been using that on me a lot these past two nights.”
“him and everyone else
on this damn trip,” Cash mumbled.
“it’s sound advice,”
Slim said.
“it is.”
Silence hung between
them for a few charged seconds. Then—
“you wanna test the
theory?”
Cash froze—literally
and figuratively, because oh, that
was a tempting offer. And not least because his very bones felt like ice. It
took him a few deep breaths to muster up a coherent response. “s-sure.” He
turned over slowly, facing Slim, who was grinning, as if entertained by Cash’s
sudden fluster.
He moved first,
shifting across the mattress and gradually leaning into Cash—his skull just
touching Cash’s chest. He paused there, waiting for Cash to further the
contact. “this okay?” he whispered—and yes,
Cash wanted to say, this is more than
okay, this is perfect!
“it’s fine,” he said
instead, carefully wrapping an arm around Slim’s shoulders. He shifted,
uncertain. “is—is this? okay?”
Humming and nuzzling
right into Cash’s chest, Slim nodded. “this is perfect.”
Without realising it,
Cash had begun to purr.
By the time Papyrus
came to bed, Slim was fast asleep, head rested against Cash’s sternum. Cash
couldn’t sleep, though—not now. Not like this. He wanted to savour it. He
wanted to commit it to memory, to keep it locked away in his melting soul like
a treasure.
But his purring ceased
when Papyrus climbed onto the mattress and snuggled against Slim’s back. Cash
stiffened, silencing himself. “hey,” he said, and his voice was tight.
Papyrus beamed. “You
managed to convince him to share body heat with you? Excellent work, Wealthy
Me. You’ve achieved in an hour what I could not in two nights.”
A pit formed in Cash’s
chest, and he nodded weakly. “right…”
“Are you feeling
alright?” Papyrus asked, ever perceptive, and Cash grimaced.
“great.”
Papyrus’ smile sunk to
a frown, and he reached a hand out to hold Cash’s shoulder in steady
reassurance. “It’s okay, Cash—” Oh, how the use of his name threw Cash off
guard “—you can talk to me. Something’s bothering you. Can I help?”
Cash wasn’t sure if it
was the unabridged openness with which Papyrus addressed him, or simply that
Slim’s consistent, and abnormal, affectionate projections had finally worn him
down, but he broke, a startled sob escaping his throat. “i—i don’t know,” he
stammered, voice trembling.
Papyrus remained
composed, but a sadness touched his eyes. “What is it? Did something happen?”
“no.” Cash breathed
in, trying to stanch the tears. “not really? just—” His breath hitched “—all of
this. this damn competition. this
stupid bachelor rubbish. i—i can’t do it. i can’t…” Cash squeezed his socket
closed and the tears fell. “i can’t eliminate any more of you. i can’t.”
Papyrus rubbed gentle
circles on his arm and inched closer so that he could wrap an arm around both
Cash and Slim, who, somehow, slept on. “Oh, Wealthy Me, you don’t have to worry
about all that. It’s only a game. We know that you don’t really hate us.”
Cash’s chest heaved.
“oh, for god’s sake…”
“Sorry,” Papyrus said,
quickly, frowning. “A poor choice of words. But—my point remains. None of us
hold your eliminations against you.”
“pap, i can’t…” Cash
tried to catch his breath, pressing his knuckles against his eye socket to try
and stop the tears—a fruitless effort. “i can’t
get rid of edge or stretch this week. i…” He took a shuddering gasp of air.
“i can’t split them apart.”
Papyrus nodded his
understanding. “I know…”
“but i can’t do that
to you or slim either.” Cash’s hands had curled into fists, and he grit his
teeth, frustration mingling with despair. “what—what am i supposed to do?” Cash
felt ridiculous. Breaking down in front of Papyrus over something so trivial
and fleeting. It was just a silly
game—designed by the twisted bastard to try and coax Cash out of his shell.
Well. Mission accomplished. Clearly. His comfortable shell was in ruins.
Papyrus was silent for
a time, though his gentle petting didn’t cease. Eventually, he shifted closer,
so that Slim was pressed between himself and Cash, his head still resting on
Cash’s chest. Despite himself—Cash’s soul warmed at the feeling, and his tears
quelled a little. “What is Slim to you, Cash?” Papyrus asked, softly.
Cash blinked, taken
aback by the question. “what? what do you…?”
Papyrus tutted,
admonishing, but he smiled gently. “It’s been fairly obvious who you’ve had
your sights on since the beginning,” he said. “And I don’t want to get in the way
of that.”
Cash stared, then
shook his head earnestly. “no, no—papyrus, you’re not—”
“Small Me and I
aren’t…” Papyrus considered briefly. “We aren’t Edge and Stretch, if you catch
my meaning. We’re friends—excellent friends! But… just friends.”
“but… on the boat,
when you…”
Papyrus laughed softly
and stroked Cash’s cheekbone with his thumb. There was something deeply
intimate, yet completely lacking in sexuality, about the gesture, and Cash
shivered pleasantly, his purr threatening to return. “Twisted Me and myself
were growing rather tired of watching you and Small Me dancing around each
other.”
Cash stared,
astonished. “wait, that was… you and twist?”
Papyrus beamed, and
Cash lacked the composure to chastise him with one of his scalding glares.
Instead, he just laughed, if not simply because of the sheer unbelievability of
the situation. Papyrus leaned forward and touched his teeth to Cash’s forehead
lightly, before doing the same with Slim, lingering a few seconds longer. “I am
very fond of Small Me—and who knows? Perhaps, if properly cultivated, our
relationship could have blossomed into something more. I don’t think either of
us would have been opposed to that.” Cash didn’t miss the hypothetical past
tense of Papyrus’ words.
“papyrus…” He closed
his eyes, fresh guilt washing over him. “i’m sorry…”
“There will be none of
that,” Papyrus chided, gently. “The decision is still up to you, but I want you
to know that… I won’t hold it against you.”
Cash swallowed and
nodded. “thank you,” he whispered, and he shifted forward to hug Papyrus,
encasing Slim between them in the embrace. Papyrus held him back, and Cash felt
the hum of his purrs returning, deep down.
For all Papyrus’
reassurances, Cash couldn’t control the prickle of remorse he felt at the
knowledge that this—this perfection—was so fleeting.
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