itsladykit:

RedMapleBlossom

@askellie recently reminded me that I love this ship. I blame them.

Rating: M

Tags: mentioned consensual body modification, sensitive bones, catharsis, temporary body modification.

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“ARE YOU COMFORTABLE?”

Slim considered the question. He was naked, but the room was pleasantly warm. He was lying on a towel, but it was soft and plush. Internally, he was both excited and a…a little nervous. He didn’t want to disappoint Papyrus.

He’d done enough of that already.

So he nodded, settling into a more comfortable position. Papyrus smiled and took his hands, kissing the knuckles before placing his hands above his shoulders. Red, kneeling behind him, took hold of his hands and pressed them into the mattress, lacing their fingers together.

“READY?” he asked both of them.

Slim tilted his head back, soul fluttering when he saw the possessive expression on Red’s face. “sure,” Red said, winking, “color me excited.”

Papyrus sighed at the pun, but waited for Slim to nod before he began. Taking a bottle of peroxide and a bag of cottonballs, he straddled Slim’s hips and smoothed his fingers over his ribcage. “LET’S WHITEN THESE PRETTY BONES FIRST,” he said. He soaked a cottonball in peroxide, then ran it over Slim’s ribs.

Closing his sockets, Slim leaned his head back and focused on the sensation. It felt good—a little like scratching an itch he hadn’t been aware of. The peroxide heated fast, leaving behind a pleasant burn. Red shifted above him, and Slim opened his sockets just in time to kiss him. His tongue swept into Slim’s mouth, languid and unhurried.

Papyrus continue his task, humming lightly. Red pulled away, settling back on his heels. “ya ready fer this?” he asked, voice rough. “ready ta wear our mark?”

Slim shivered. “yes,” he whispered, the longing clear in his voice. He wanted it. Had wanted it for a long time.

He’d wanted Papyrus to mark him permanently, wanted him to etch his mark into Slim’s bones. Papyrus had balked, doubt clouding his features. Slim hadn’t asked again.

But Papyrus had remembered, and he’d found another way to mark him. Slim was just so grateful. He needed to be owned, needed to know he was wanted. Needed proof of it.

Slim’s bones now clean and white, Papyrus sat up and exchanged the cottonballs and peroxide for a clear wax pencil. Still humming lightly, he leaned forward, writing his name across Slim’s lowermost rib. Then, starting at the top of Slim’s ribcage, he sketched simple patterns on his ribs, sometimes drawing, sometimes writing. None of the marks were yet visible, the wax nearly invisible against Slim’s bones.

At one point, Papyrus sat up and looked to Red. “MAY I BORROW HIS HAND, CHERRY?” Red offered it to Papyrus, and he kissed the back, lacing their fingers together before rubbing the metacarpals down with peroxide.

All the while, Slim lay prone on the bed, his breathing deep and slow. The pencil scratched lightly against his bones, not quite tickling him. It was a strange sensation, but a welcome one.

When Papyrus was finally finished, he looked down at Slim and asked, “You’re sure, Puppy? This is what you want?” His voice was soft and loving, and Slim could only nod, unable to speak. Papyrus beamed and leaned down to kiss him, cupping his mandible in both hands. His kiss was searing and possessive. It left Slim breathless. Excitement caused his soul to pulse as Papyrus opened the bottle of stain.

He dipped a brush in the indigo liquid, then he spread it over Slim’s rib. The color leeched into the bone, wherever the wax pencil hadn’t touched. The staining beaded on the wax, and Papyrus dabbed it away, leaving bright white patterns on his bones. Slim watched for a little while, but soon enough, he closed his sockets and leaned his head back. His soul felt heavy, like he was on the verge of both laughing and crying. Papyrus had to stop when Slim lost control of himself, his ribcage heaving as he sobbed.

Red and Papyrus cooed over him, kissing away his tears and tenderly stroking along his bones. “WHAT’S YOUR WORD, PUPPY?” Papyrus asked.

But Slim shook his head. He couldn’t talk. Instead, he held up a hand, touching his thumb and forefinger to show he was okay. Red kissed his forehead, stroking his mandible. “ya wanna keep goin’?” Slim nodded and swallowed hard.

With effort, he found his voice. “please,” he said, voice hoarse, “don’t stop.”

Red and Papyrus exchanged a look. Red shrugged, and Papyrus’ brow-bones furrowed. “IF YOU’RE SURE,” he said, though he simply stroked Slim’s forearms until he’d regained control of himself again.

When Slim’s ribcage stopped heaving, Papyrus resumed his work, staining the bones a deep indigo. At last, he finished with his ribcage, but before capping the bottle, he took one of Slim’s hands and stained the metacarpals.

Looking over the purple metacarpals, Papyrus nodded to himself, then he smiled for Slim. “THIS—“ He gestured to Slim’s ribcage. “—IS FOR US TO ENJOY. BUT THIS—“ He held up Slim’s hand. “—THIS IS FOR YOU. WHEREVER YOU ARE, IF YOU NEED A REMEMINDER THAT WE LOVE YOU, JUST LOOK AT YOUR HAND.” He kissed the fingertips. “AND KNOW HOW MUCH YOU’RE TREASURED.”

Slim closed his sockets, overwhelmed again. “thank you,” he whispered.

Red scratched along his jaw, earning a steady purr. “yeah. an’ when yer dry…we’ll show ya too.”

Slim just nodded, still purring. He was wanted. He was loved. The proof was written on his bones.