As a youth, Undyne was a very angry soul, often prone to picking fights, lashing out, and general hotheadedness. The fire and flames that followed these incidents drew the attention of Queen Toriel Dreemurr, who summoned the young monster to the castle. There, the queen intentionally provoked Undyne’s anger and got exactly the reaction she was hoping for, with Undyne lashing out with punches and kicks and scratches. Undyne’s burning fighting spirit literally erupted the entire area with fire – the carpets, the banners, and even the stone walls. Somehow. Toriel was amazed; she had seen Determination manifest itself before, but never so strongly in a monster. She offered Undyne the chance to train with the Royal Mages, while also informing Gaster about her.
Despite the invitation to train with the Royal Mages, Undyne still sorely lacked the focus to bring her natural power under any sort of control. This led to arguments with her trainers, which led to her frustration, anger, and before long, everything was on fire again. On one of the many, many, MANY times that she ended up kicked out, she would make her way to the kitchen and fix herself some food to calm down. It wasn’t so much the eating, but the preparation that she found some form of focus in. It got to the point where she would stop attemping to join the Royal Mages altogether and spent all her free time preparing food in the royal kitchens, following every recipe, making every dish that she could.
And some of it was even edible.
But this would not deter her. She would routinely refer to the rest of the kitchen staff as ‘nerds,’ usually exaggerating the hard ‘r’ sound, and began to call herself The Royal Chef, usually emphasizing the word ‘the.’ It became more or less accepted around the castle, even if the food she prepared was only average at best, with only some minor improvements to cooking techniques over the following few years.
One day, while scouring the dumpsters of Waterfall for more ingredients, Undyne met another monster named Alphys, who had recently started a TV channel devoted to imported documentaries from the surface. While initially skeptical, all it took was a single episode of Honey Pistachio Romance to get her completely hooked. From then on, Undyne never missed a second of the programs Alphys put on the air. On another meeting, however, Alphys told her that the programs that she saw were HEAVILY edited by the monarchy, but that she would be more than happy to give Undyne a private show of the uncut editions.
As the years passed, Undyne and Alphys grew closer. Their friendship bloomed into a romance. A small wedding ceremony for the two was held at the TV station, officiated by Dapperton. Undyne’s spirit shone brighter than ever when she and Alphys kissed, and so the wedding was temporarily halted while the fire brigade was called to put everything out.
Maybe it was Alphys’ influence, maybe the shows on Underground TV lacked variety, or maybe someone wanted a good laugh, but after years of calling herself The Royal Chef (and unceasingly calling everyone else nerds), Undyne was offered a TV show of her own, a cooking show so that the entire Underground could watch and learn how to prepare food, Undyne-style. Dyne with Undyne became a smash success, with monsters learning about chopping, tenderizing, chopping, roasting, chopping, cake decorating, and chopping. As the show grew in popularity, the decision was made to cross-promote with the shows Alphys was producing and so Dapperton became the regular co-host in the second season.
Dyne with Undyne can still be seen every afternoon at 4PM, and admission to the live show is free. Two lucky audience members will receive one of the sleeves that Undyne flexes off of her chef’s outfit at the start of every program.
I went with honeyketchup for this because oh my, the prompt suited them so well! Also, tumblr stuffed up the formatting a bit, since it doesn’t let you align text to the right :///. I had to improvise by just holding down spacebar a bunch for the text conversations. I hope it doesn’t screw up the entire format of this – I apologise for sections where the text doesn’t properly align D:
Anyway, thank you for the request! I hope you enjoy this! It’s one of those long ones again, I hope that’s alright!
Update: Yep, tumblr completely destroyed the format. I’m really sorry if it makes the text conversation confusing! If it’s too difficult to understand, please let me know and I’ll attempt to fix it.
But right now. Just going to passive-aggressively reblog this. Damn you tumblr.
I went with honeyketchup for this because oh my, the prompt suited them so well! Also, tumblr stuffed up the formatting a bit, since it doesn’t let you align text to the right :///. I had to improvise by just holding down spacebar a bunch for the text conversations. I hope it doesn’t screw up the entire format of this – I apologise for sections where the text doesn’t properly align D:
Anyway, thank you for the request! I hope you enjoy this! It’s one of those long ones again, I hope that’s alright!
Warning: Bad puns. A lot of them.
Sans’ phone buzzed again, and he
rolled over in bed, glancing at the new message.
Hey sweetheart, my place in five? I’d love to
bone 😉
Sighing, he deleted the match. He
had to admit, it may have been a mistake including the fact that he was a
skeleton monster in his online profile. Even he tended to get tired of the
boning jokes after a while.
Since he and his brother had
moved to London, Papyrus had been trying to convince him to meet more people.
He’d recommended the app to Sans, telling him that it was a great way to make
new friends. Sans had a strong feeling that Papyrus didn’t quite understand the
true nature of ‘online dating’ (although a small part of him feared that he
did).
Regardless, Sans had quickly
found himself intrigued by the concept, delving into the world of quick ‘matches’
and short ‘dates’—more as a way to distract himself than anything. Given his
inconsistent sleeping schedule, Sans often found himself awake into the early
hours of the morning, chatting to strangers or simply flicking through their
profiles. Most of them were human, but Sans had come across the occasional
monster. In truth though, no one had ever really sparked his interest, unless
it was for some late night dirty talk or a quick way to get off.
Growing bored, Sans placed his
phone on the nightstand, deciding that this probably wasn’t the best way to fix
his bad sleeping habits. He closed his eyes, trying to find some semblance of
sleep. Just as he’d begun to drift off however, his phone buzzed again.
Groaning slightly, Sans turned over, glancing at the screen.
You have: 1 new match!
He considered for a moment. More
likely than not, it was another ‘comedian’ lining up with one of their boner jokes. Still, Sans wasn’t exactly
eager to sleep. He wasn’t sure if it was the new country, or simply a shift in
whatever strange part of his magical makeup had programmed him for nightmares,
but he was woken up by night terrors more often than not these days.
Unlocking his phone, Sans glanced
over the profile of his new match, ‘Stretch’. The profile picture was nothing
more than an image of a skull and crossbones, with the description ‘come
plunder me booty’ beneath it. Despite himself, Sans released a small chuckle at
that. It was different, at least.
Figuring that it was worth a
shot, Sans typed out a quick message, with a picture attachment of the Titanic.
ice to meet you. name’s sans.
He waited for a moment, and when
there was no response, he typed out the second part of his message.
heh sorry. was that a bad icebreaker?
Sans had to admit, as often as he
used it, it was still a classic. If ‘Stretch’ didn’t respond though, Sans could
hardly blame him. A minute passed. Then two. Eventually, Sans figured he wasn’t
going to receive a reply, and locked his phone again, crawling back under his
covers.
But the silence was instantly interrupted
by a sudden buzz, and Sans glanced up, his notifications displaying a new
message from Stretch.
stretch. and ice seen better.
Sans grinned, appreciative of the
response, despite the subtle jab at his own pun-making abilities. His phone
buzzed again, and another message popped up.
but honestly, there’s snow better way i
could’ve said it myself.
Sans’ grin widened, and for once,
he actually felt a little intrigued. It wasn’t often that people went along
with his jokes—and they almost never supplied their own puns in return. Leaning
back slightly, and shifting into a more comfortable position, he typed out a
response.
gotta admit, it’s not often that people humour me.
Sans waited, eagerly watching the
screen as the typing bubble popped up.
well, i myself am just a skull and
crossbones, but you seem pretty humerus.
“heh.” Sans snickered, grateful
that for once, the skeleton related joke involved something other than boning.
Curiosity prickled in the back of his mind. Stretch’s profile said that he was
less than five miles away. While Sans seldom met up with people from the app,
he couldn’t deny, he was a little intrigued by this guy. Deciding that perhaps
he should gather a little more information before making any snap decisions, he
typed out another message.
so why you up so late?
bad sleeper. you?
Sans paused for a moment,
considering. While he was tempted to state that he wasn’t exactly the heaviest
sleeper himself, he knew the generic ‘same’ response was always a conversation
killer. So instead, he typed out a different reply, grinning.
looking for buried treasure.
Sans couldn’t help but laugh
quietly to himself at his own joke. He had to admit, the idea had been tickling
the back of his mind since seeing Stretch’s profile description, he’d just been
waiting for the opportunity to use it.
The minutes ticked by, and
Stretch didn’t supply a response. Sans’ self-congratulatory chuckles soon
faded, and he suddenly began to panic, wondering if he’d overstepped. After a
good ten minutes, just when he’d begun to fear that Stretch had abandoned the
conversation altogether, a reply came through.
well, i do live kinda near king’s cross.
Sans frowned for a moment, his
mind puzzling over the response, trying to wrap his head around the meaning
behind Stretch’s words. His phone buzzed again, and a second message popped up.
or you know, you could just come over and
find x for yourself.
It suddenly clicked, and Sans
found himself struggling to keep his grin suppressed.
x marks the spot hehe. took me a while.
Excitement bubbled in his chest.
Their conversation hadn’t been long, but Sans had to admit, it was the first
time he’d spoken to someone interesting in a long time. His soul jumped
slightly with anticipation when Stretch responded again.
it was a bit of a stretch, i’ll admit.
Sans was never one to be outdone
when it came to puns, but right now, his mind was almost a little too ecstatic
to think of anything witty to respond with. He glanced back over their previous
messages, still grinning to himself in a way that was actually genuine for
once. Suddenly, something occurred to him, and he frowned slightly, quickly
typing out a message.
wait.
Sans paused, reading back over
Stretch’s messages to make sure he’d understood correctly.
were you asking me to come over?
Normally, Sans could immediately
tell when someone was coming onto him. The hints were never subtle, and he
usually tried to avoid meeting anyone in person, unless he was feeling
particularly restless and needed a quick way to relieve some stress. But he’d
almost missed Stretch’s small hint the first time. come over and find x for yourself. Sans wasn’t sure if it had been
too subtle, or if he’d simply been too wrapped up in the tirade of puns to
notice. His soul raced in his chest as he impatiently awaited Stretch’s reply.
depends.
There was a pause. Stretch’s
typing bubble popped up then disappeared a few times, as if he was contemplating
whether or not to send his next message.
would you come if i told you to?
Sans felt a sudden heat rippling
through his bones, and his soul flipped in his chest. He had to swallow heavily
to rid his mouth of the magic that had begun to coalesce there. That hadn’t
been subtle at all. Stretch was definitely flirting with him now. Excitement
flooded him, and Sans could no longer keep the grin off his face.
He must have taken too long to
respond, because a (seemingly rather frantic) message came through.
heh. shit, sorry. too far?
Without thinking, Sans typed out
a hurried reply.
nah, king’s cross isn’t too far from me.
Stretch’s reply was almost
instantaneous, and Sans could almost sense his relief through the phone,
despite the fact that it was only an emoji.
😀
Sans hesitated for a moment,
considering the situation. Was he really going to do this? A quick glance at
the clock told him that it was almost midnight. Papyrus had long gone to bed,
although in truth, Sans doubted he was really asleep. It was unlikely he’d be
bothered if Sans left this late anyway—if anything, he’d probably be pleased
Sans was meeting up with a… friend. Not to mention, the odds of Sans falling
asleep now were rather minimal.
Mind made up, he shot a quick
message to Stretch.
what’s ur address? i’ll be there in 5.
****
Sans’ soul thumped erratically as
he knocked on the door to the apartment. He prayed to the stars that Stretch
hadn’t sent him a fake address. Although part of him almost hoped he had. He
was already having doubts. What if Stretch didn’t actually want to see him?
What if they didn’t really click as much in person? What if this was some kind
of set up? An elaborate prank of which Sans was the punchline.
He wasn’t given a chance to
linger on these thoughts, as a moment later, the door swung open, revealing a
tall, slouching skeleton monster, his hands in the pockets of his faded orange
hoodie. Sans found himself gaping for a moment, and upon seeing Stretch’s grin,
he quickly snapped his mouth shut.
“uh, stretch?” was all Sans
seemed able to enunciate.
Stretch smirked, his golden
eye-lights glinting slightly. “in the flesh.”
Sans chuckled, running a hand
over the back of his skull. He suddenly felt extremely awkward, and magic rose
to his cheekbones. “geez, sorry, i um… i just… wow. you’re a lot more
attractive in person.”
Stretch raised a brow bone, regarding
Sans quizzically, though there was still the faint hint of humour in his eyes.
“i can’t tell if you’re complimenting me or insulting my profile picture.”
Sans felt his eyes going wide,
his blush deepening. “oh—no! no, i wasn’t. heh, honestly the skull and
crossbones kinda drew me in. i didn’t mean it like that, i only…” Sans trailed
off as Stretch started laughing, the sound light and clear—almost sweet.
“i’m pulling your tibia, dude.
i—i’m flattered, really, uh… thanks.” Sans’ soul clenched slightly at the sight
of a faint golden blush rising to Stretch’s own cheekbones, his eyes darting
away from Sans. They were both silent for a moment, Sans’ hands shoved deep in
his pockets as he regarded Stretch, and for once, his grin didn’t feel so
forced. “so, um… you wanna head inside and skip straight to the, uh, heh—booty plundering?” Stretch asked, his blush intensifying. “or… do you maybe want to grab a drink or something and… flesh this out a bit
more?”
Stretch was looking nervous,
which Sans was almost appreciative of. If anything, it made him feel a little
more relaxed, knowing that he wasn’t the only one anxious to pursue this.
“well, uh, i’ve never been a particularly fleshy monster…” Sans began, earning
a grin from Stretch. “but, uh…”
Sans regarded the other monster
for a moment. He couldn’t deny, his entire body was already buzzing with eager
magic. He wasn’t sure if it was the puns, or simply the astounding fact that
Stretch was also a skeleton monster—and a fair looking one at that—but he
already found himself slightly drawn to him. And it felt a little too strong
just to be sexual attraction. Taking a long breath, he said, “you know what?
let’s, uh… let’s hang out.”
Stretch looked surprised,
although if the smile that spread across his face was any indication, he wasn’t
disappointed. “really?”
Sans grinned, nodding. “yeah, you
know what they say. you gotta dig a little deeper before you find the real
treasure.”
I’m sorry, angst? I didn’t quite understand the request so I wrote some fluff! I’m not too sure what angst is, sorry Ollie!
I’m pretty sure this is the longest one! It went through some pretty vigorous rewrites, but I think I got there in the end. I sort of HC classic Papyrus as asexual – I’m not too sure how well I got that across in this though. Anyway, I hope you enjoy your angst–uh, fluff, Ollie! This pair is really cute (definitely not sad at all).
Papyrus scanned over the diagrams
before him, trying to find the baffling solution he couldn’t quite seem to
reach. He’d been working on this puzzle for around a week now, and the longer
he stared at it, the less sense it seemed to make. It was beginning to frustrate
him a little.
“hey paps, what’s the matter?
you’re looking a little puzzled.”
Papyrus didn’t have the energy to
chastise his brother for the pun. Instead, he sighed, folding the
scribble-covered piece of paper. “It’s no use, Sans, I cannot find the
solution!” Feeling defeated, he dropped the diagrams onto the coffee table,
wondering if it was any use coming back to them.
He looked up as he felt Sans
place a hand on his shoulder. His brother’s usual grin was there, but Papyrus
could tell that it was forced. A dreary mood had been hanging over the
Undertale brothers’ house this past week, and Papyrus couldn’t help but feel
that he was to blame. “don’t worry about it, bro. you’re pretty smart, i’m sure
you’ll figure it out.”
Papyrus flushed slightly at the
praise, but shook his head. “OF COURSE—” he cleared his throat, reminding
himself of what Edge liked to call his ‘inside voice’. “Of course I am, Sans.
But sometimes, I feel that even my genius is no match for some puzzles.”
Sans’ grin faded slightly, and
just as he seemed about to respond, there was a knock on the door. Papyrus
immediately leapt up, straightening his battle body. “I’LL GET IT,” he said,
with perhaps a little too much enthusiasm. Sans shrugged, flopping down on the
couch and flicking on the TV. Tutting at his brother’s laziness, Papyrus
marched over to the front door, swinging it open. “BLUE, HOW LOVELY TO—oh…
Stretch, h-hi.”
Blue grinned cheerfully at Papyrus,
wrapping his arms around the taller skeleton’s waist in a tight embrace. “Papyrus!
We didn’t realise you would be here, how wonderful!” Papyrus tried to gather
the will to return Blue’s hug, but a lump had formed in his throat the moment his
had gaze landed on Stretch.
His lazier alternate was
slouching a little more than normal, his hoodie pulled up over his skull. There
was an almost unnatural pallor to his cheekbones, and he seemed to be avoiding
Papyrus’ gaze. “thought you had training with undyne,” he muttered.
Papyrus nodded, adjusting his
scarf uncomfortably as Blue released him, glancing between Papyrus and his
brother with concern. “I—yes, I did… it got cancelled.”
“oh,” was all Stretch said,
before pushing past Papyrus into the living room, dropping down beside Sans on
the sofa. Papyrus felt his soul sink in his chest as he watched him. There was
a weariness about the normally relaxed skeleton that Papyrus harboured a strong
dislike for.
He glanced down at Blue, trying
to force a smile as he guided the small skeleton inside. “Well, I’m happy
you’re here, Papyrus,” Blue said, beaming up at him. “And Papy…” Blue glanced
at his brother, his smile faltering slightly.
“How has he been?” Papyrus asked,
his voice unusually faint.
“It has only been a week,” Blue
said, somberly. “It’ll take time, but I’m sure he’ll be okay!” Papyrus nodded
weakly, but he found himself struggling to take Blue’s words to heart, his soul
feeling heavy in his ribcage. Seeming to sense his friend’s discomfort, Blue
took a hold of Papyrus’ hand, tugging him towards the kitchen. “Come! How about
we get started on dinner before the others arrive.”
Papyrus obliged, but he couldn’t
stop his gaze from flickering back to Stretch before disappearing into the
kitchen. The look on the other skeleton’s face sent waves of guilt through him,
and he suddenly felt a lot less enthused for the night to come.
****
“Papy, you’ve barely touched your
food…”
Stretch brushed off Blue’s
comment with an indifferent wave of his hand. “sorry bro, it’s good, i just…
don’t really have the stomach for it.” Almost on instinct, Papyrus opened his
mouth to scold Stretch for the pun, but immediately snapped it closed upon
remembering that it wasn’t really his place anymore. Much to his relief, the
other three younger brothers sitting at the table groaned slightly, sparing him
the need to express his own disdain. Although in truth, Papyrus had found
himself missing Stretch’s puns this past week.
“Well, Blue, this really isn’t
bad,” Edge said, taking a small bite of the lasagne. “Exquisite use of
seasoning.”
Blue flushed slightly, a small
smile creeping onto his face. But he shook his head. “Well, I can’t take all
the credit—Papyrus did an awful lot of work.”
Edge glanced up at Papyrus, who
felt a twinge of guilt upon seeing the sympathy in his expression. Papyrus
didn’t like being responsible for dampening the moods of others, so he cleared
his throat, nodding. “WELL, I—I helped a bit.” His words trailed off into something
akin to mumbling, and he was grateful when Edge smiled, before turning his
attention away from him.
One of the things Papyrus liked
most about his own alternates, was their ability to understand when he was
feeling uncomfortable—a talent the Sanses didn’t quite seem to possess. As if
on cue, Razz turned to Stretch, a sly grin on his face. “So, how have you been
holding up then?” Coming from anyone else, Papyrus might have thought the
question had been asked out of sympathy for Stretch, but considering it was
Razz, he knew better.
Stretch was silent for a moment,
before shaking his head. “i’d honestly rather not—”
“I imagine it didn’t take long
for you to get back in the saddle—you never were shy.” Papyrus stared at Razz
in bewilderment. The expression on Stretch’s face was strained, as if he was
struggling to hold it together. Razz glanced up at Papyrus, looking almost
vindictive, before turning back to Stretch. “Out of curiosity, how many was it
before you and the creampuff started boning each other? Where did he fall on
your,” Razz smirked, “extensive list?”
Papyrus suddenly noticed that the
whole table had gone silent, the gazes of the five other skeletons all fixed on
Razz and Stretch. Papyrus’ soul ached, and he wished more than anything that he
could say something to silence the smaller skeleton—but he knew it would only
make Stretch feel even worse. “razz…” Stretch’s voice was small, and he sounded
tired. “i really don’t want to talk about this.”
Razz rolled his eyes, huffing in
irritation. “Oh, come on. You two have been eye fucking each other all evening.
If you’re going to make us all put up with it, then the least you could do is
admit that you’re still—”
“Alright, that’s enough!” Papyrus
said, firmly, no longer able to restrain himself. He somehow managed to keep
his voice low, while still injecting a significant amount of conviction into
it. Razz finally fell silent, looking up at Papyrus with a bored expression.
But Papyrus barely spared him a glance, his attention entirely focused on Stretch.
His insides seemed to shrivel as the tell-tale signs of tears began to form at
Stretch’s eye sockets.
He’d been avoiding Papyrus’ gaze
all night, but finally, he looked up, and Papyrus felt as if he could see the
exact moment when his composure cracked. “i—i’m sorry, i have to go—” Stretch’s
voice seemed to break as he rose from his seat, hurrying out of the kitchen
before anyone could stop him. Papyrus heard the front door slamming a few
moments later.
He felt glued to his seat for a
moment, a sick pit forming in his chest. Guilt washed over him, and he didn’t
dare look up, not wanting to see the pity in the other monsters’ eyes.
Eventually, Blue sighed, standing. “I should go talk to him,” he mumbled,
heading for the door.
Papyrus quickly jumped up,
following him. “No—wait. I… I should go,” he said, placing a hand on Blue’s
shoulder.
Blue glanced at him, shaking his
head. “It’s fine, Papyrus, he’s my brother, I should—”
“N-no.” Papyrus straightened his
scarf, pulling himself up. “No,” he repeated, with a little more certitude.
“I’m the one who broke his heart, I should be the one to fix it.” Papyrus
didn’t wait for Blue to respond, not feeling quite up to arguing with the small
skeleton. He paused for only a moment after exiting the kitchen, the sound of
voices slowly picking up again. He felt ashamed. He hated being the one
responsible for that uncomfortable silence—that hesitance to speak of happy
things, as if they might upset him.
Resolutely, he began to mentally
build himself up, before heading for the front door. He found Stretch sitting
on the front porch steps, head resting on his knees as he gazed out into the
slowly falling snow. Taking a deep breath, Papyrus dropped down beside him,
catching sight of small tears trickling down Stretch’s cheekbones. “H-hello, Lazy
Me—um, Stretch.”
Stretch glanced up at Papyrus
briefly, before nodding his acknowledgement. Papyrus felt uncomfortable. He’d
never been very good at handling these types of situations. Comforting people
wasn’t his forte, and while he was more than glad to offer words of
encouragement from time to time, that didn’t feel very appropriate at the
moment. So instead, he carefully reached out an arm, placing it around
Stretch’s shoulders—he was certain he’d seen people do this in some of Undyne’s
animes.
Somehow, this seemed to trigger
something within Stretch, because he immediately broke down, a shaky gasp
escaping him, before he slowly devolved into sobs. He buried his head in
Papyrus’ chest, clutching onto his scarf as he cried. “Oh—oh no, please don’t
cry, Stretch,” Papyrus said, rubbing his hand over his alternate’s back. “I’m
sorry—I’m… I’m so sorry, tell me how to make it better, I’ll—”
Stretch shook his head, and
Papyrus was surprised when he heard a soft laugh between the whimpers. “oh—oh
geez no, p-paps you—you haven’t d-done anything wrong…”
“Then why are you so upset? Was
it Razz? You shouldn’t listen to such things, Stretch! I don’t think he’s quite
yet learned the etiquette of—”
Again, Stretch chuckled quietly,
his breath hitching. “nah, it’s—well, s-sort of, i just…” He trailed off,
looking up at Papyrus. Fresh tears began to form at the corners of his eye
sockets, and he released a heavy breath, shaking his head. “i—i want you to
know that—” He broke off, hands forming fists around Papyrus’ scarf.
Papyrus ran a soothing hand over
his spine, wishing he knew how to make this better. “It’s okay, Stretch. You
can tell me anything. I’m your friend.”
Again, Stretch shook his head.
“ah—stars pap, you’re killing me here. i—” His breaths were heavy, shaking
slightly as he tried to stifle his sobs. “you were my first, papyrus. you were
my first, and i…” Stretch gasped, struggling against the tears. “and i’m still
in love with you.” He pressed a hand over his mouth, quickly pulling away.
“i—i’m sorry, paps—fuck, i—i’m so sorry, you don’t need this, i’m being stupid,
i—”
Papyrus hastily shook his head,
wrapping his arms around Stretch again. “Don’t be sorry, Stretch. Don’t
apologise. You are still my very great friend.” Papyrus’ soul stung at
Stretch’s confession. He had been Stretch’s first. And to him, it had almost
meant nothing. While he had long battled with his feelings for his lazier
alternate, becoming swept up in the romance, he had soon come to realise that
what he felt for Stretch was nothing more than platonic. In fact, if he was
honest with himself, he wasn’t quite sure he’d ever felt that sort of
attraction to anyone.
He sighed, resting his skull atop
Stretch’s as his friend sobbed against him. He felt guilty. He felt
blameworthy. This was his fault. He shouldn’t have allowed himself to become so
enraptured by their relationship—he shouldn’t have allowed Stretch’s feelings
for him to have become so intense. He’d led him on, allowing him to believe
that they could ever be anything more than friends.
And now, like a puzzle without a
solution, he couldn’t fix it.
Dragon Blog 