Summary: The universe has a twisted sense of humour. Sometimes it’s best just to ignore it.
Relationship: UF Papyrus/US Papyrus
Tags: fluff, confessions, cooking together (excited squeak!), cute stuff
Warnings (IMPORTANT): date-rape drugging, internalised self-loathing, threats of violence
This chapter is a bit of an emotional roller-coaster.
Word count: 7,375 (I did mention I was bad at keeping things concise)
Fell was just about to succumb to
sleep, his eyes drifting closed, when an invasive buzzing sounded, his pocket
vibrating. He groaned, shifting in the snow to reach for his phone.
Beside him, Swap stirred,
groggily glancing up through hazy eye-lights. “Ah, that’ll be our bros.
Probably should’ve told ‘em where we were going. Heh.”
Fell scowled, dusting the snow
off his pants as he rose, lifting the phone to his skull. “Red?”
“Boss? Where the fuck are ya?
Blue ‘n I just got to Muffet’s—she says ya threatened some guy then stormed
out!”
A twinge of guilt resonated
through Fell. Naturally, Red would be worried – Fell could hear the panic in
his tone. With a deep breath, he closed his eyes, gathering his composure.
“Calm down, Red. I’m alright. I’m with the Ashtray, we were just…” Fell trailed
off, suddenly realising that there was no reasonable explanation for what he
and Swap were doing—none that he wanted to give, at least.
Fortunately, it seemed that Red
wasn’t too bothered by the exact nature of their activities, a sigh of relief
sounding from the other end of the phone. “Geez, Boss, ya scared me. I thought ya
might’ve lost it and…” The unspoken suggestion of Fell’s tendency to lash out
hung in the air, and Fell was bitterly reminded of his close call earlier this
evening. Thankfully, Red didn’t press the issue, and part of Fell wondered if
he was anxious that he would trigger one of Fell’s violent episodes by saying
the wrong thing. “So, uh, you gonna meet us here?”
Fell glanced down at Swap, who
was still leaning against the door, dozing lightly. He sighed. “No, I think I
should take the Ashtray home.”
For a moment, Red was silent, and
Fell feared he’d accidentally revealed something through his tone of voice.
Then a soft chuckle emitted from the phone. “Heh, since when do ya care about
Swap, Boss?”
Fell stilled, a frown creeping
across his features. “I don’t,” he said, voice tight. “But I’m not one to leave
a monster stranded in the middle of Snowdin Forest.”
Red scoffed. “Snowdin Forest?
Watcha doin’ all the way out there?”
Fell muttered a curse under his
breath, realising the hole he’d dug himself into. He scowled down at Swap, who
still had his eyes closed. “We were… walking. I needed to cool down after my—”
Fell coughed “—outburst.”
It was technically true, minus a
few small details. Thankfully, Red just gave another throaty laugh. “Heh, guess
there’s no better place ta’ cool down
than Snowdin Forest, eh, Boss?”
Fell’s grip on the phone
tightened, and he glared at nothing in particular, internally cursing himself
for handing that one to Red on a silver platter. “Is there a reason you’re
still speaking to me, brother?”
“Sorry, Boss, I snow yer too cool ferjokes like that,
but they just send chills down my spine.”
“Sans!”
“Alright, get the Ashtray home,” Red
said quickly, though there was still a trace of humour in his tone. “Blue ‘n
I’ll probably hang here for a bit. See ya later.”
“Take care of yourself, brother,”
Fell said with a sigh, before hanging up. He glanced down at Swap with disdain,
obstinately denying the fact that his soul warmed a little upon seeing the
gentle rise and fall of his chest. Still, he cleared his throat, bending down
to shake his shoulders. “Ashtray, come on, you lazybones. You can sleep at
home.”
Swap groaned slightly, shifting
under Fell’s grip. “Sure you can’t give me another five minutes, brat?”
Fell rolled his eye-lights,
shaking his head. “I don’t even have the patience for another five seconds. Get
up.”
With a little more coaxing, and a
few more begrudging grumbles from Swap, Fell managed to pull the lazier
skeleton to his feet. His soul stuttered as Swap draped an arm over his
shoulder, grinning up at him with false innocence. “Carry me?”
Fell blinked for a moment,
staring. He could feel his cheeks heating, and he bit down, trying to control
the magic readily flowing through his bones. Pushing Swap away, he muttered,
“Ugh no, asshole. You’re walking.”
Swap pouted, but the mischievous
twinkle didn’t leave his eye-lights. Without warning, he gripped Fell’s arm,
whispering, “Hold on tight, brat,” before the world was spinning around them.
Fell stumbled as they landed directly on the front porch of the Underswap
brothers’ home, taken off guard by the sudden short-cut. He immediately spun to
face Swap, fury burning in his eye-lights.
“What the f—don’t do that without warning me!”
Swap shrugged, brow bone raised
as he opened the front door. “I did warn you. I said ‘hold on tight’.”
Fell involuntarily clenched his
fists, before taking a deep, shaky breath to control himself. “You’re—” He
swallowed, reminding himself of what had happened when he’d allowed his anger
to get the better of him earlier that night. “You’re intolerable,” he hissed.
Swap only grinned, the
ever-present humour glinting in his eye-lights. “Yet, you tolerate me.” Fell
scowled, staring at the wooden planks as he kicked his boots against them to
get the snow off. For a few moments, a charged silence hung between the two
skeletons, an unspoken question seeming to hang in the air. Eventually, Swap
cleared his throat, gaze darting away from Fell briefly. “So, do you, uh, want
to come inside?” Swap shoved his hands in his pockets, and Fell heard the quiet
clicking of his lighter. He frowned, trying to assure himself that Swap wasn’t
at risk of setting himself on fire.
“I, uh…” Fell shifted awkwardly
between his feet. On one hand, he very
much wanted to come inside. Though he was still (ineffectually) trying to
deny it, he felt reluctant to part ways with Swap… for whatever reason. On the
other hand, part of him felt that maybe parting ways with Swap would solve this
tumultuous battle going on with his emotions. He certainly wasn’t ready to
confront them.
Fell only realised he’d hesitated
too long when Swap gave a quiet laugh, drawing his gaze back up. “Well, you
seem a little conflicted.” Fell was tempted to remark that ‘conflicted’ didn’t
even begin to scratch the surface. But his eyes were drawn to Swap’s pocket,
where he withdrew the small coin he’d been flipping earlier. “How about we let
the universe decide?”
Fell almost laughed. “Seriously?
The universe?” His brow bone was
raised in incredulity. “The universe has never been particularly kind to me—and
neither has that bloody coin.”
“Heh, hasn’t been so bad…” Swap’s
hand was twisting in Fell’s scarf, his gaze seeming to dart everywhere but
Fell’s face.
Fell could feel his magic buzzing
readily through him, and eventually, he cleared his throat, unable to withstand
the tension any longer. “Fine, just flip it.”
Swap finally glanced up, giving
Fell a small smile. “Heads you stay, tails you go?” Fell nodded, swallowing as
Swap flicked the coin into the air. “Heads,” Swap said, quietly, glancing at
Fell, cautiously, as if trying to gauge his reaction.
Fell nodded stiffly, trying not
to show how relieved he felt. “Fine. Guess I’m staying,” he said, trying his
best to sound reluctant as he entered the living room.
Swap chuckled softly as he shut
the door. “Please control yourself, Fell. There’s no need to get so excited.”
Fell simply scoffed, rolling his
eye-lights as he glanced around the room with narrowed eye sockets. Dirty
dishes and clothes were scattered over the furniture, the carpet littered with
old books and missing puzzle pieces. “Ugh. Would it really kill you to keep
this place clean? Why I even come here is beyond me.”
“Hey, Blue loves cleaning when he’s
drunk. I’m doing him a favour by messing it up. He’ll thank me for it later.”
Swap grinned, earning him another eye-roll. Fell’s gaze drifted to the
bookshelf beside the TV, soul jolting as his eyes landed on a familiar title.
Striding over, he carefully
extracted the thin book from the shelf. He tried not to smile, but found it
difficult as fondness crept into his soul. “Peek-a-boo with Fluffy Bunny,” he
murmured, quietly. Much like his own copy, the book was worn from use, a few of
the pages bent.
“Uh yeah, Blue reads it to me
sometimes,” Swap mumbled. Fell glanced up to see that he was blushing slightly,
gaze on the carpet.
Fell’s soul stung a little. “Red
used to read it to me too,” he said, putting it back. He could still remember
the day he’d told Red he was too old for bedtime stories. The look on his
brother’s face still hurt to think about.
“Oh,” was all Swap said, still
not looking up. For a few seconds, it was silent between them, and Fell
suffered a brief twinge of guilt for dampening the mood. Fortunately, Swap’s
weariness didn’t seem to last, because with a decisive cough, he asked, “So, do
you, uh, want something to eat?”
Fell quickly nodded, eager for a
change of subject. “Certainly. As long as you let me cook. It’s the least I can
do after…” Fell gave a vague wave of his hand. “Preventing us from eating
earlier.” He left the fact that he wasn’t eager to eat whatever Swap would be
able to cook unspoken, though he was sure the implication wasn’t completely
lost on the other skeleton.
“Heh, we’ll have to see,” Swap
said, as if he’d read Fell’s thoughts. He flicked the coin between his fingers,
and Fell frowned dubiously at it, as if it had wronged him somehow (he still
wasn’t entirely convinced it hadn’t).
“Ashtray. We are not leaving
my—or your, for that matter—life in the hands of that piece of Gold. If I’m
going to die, it’s not going to be because of food poisoning.”
Swap only smirked, doing little
to quell the rising sense of unease in Fell’s chest. “Come on,” he said,
gesturing for Fell to follow him into the kitchen. “Let’s see what we have.”
With no small amount of
reluctance, Fell trailed after him, deciding that—if worst came to worst—he could
just refuse to eat Swap’s cooking. As much as that might hurt his feelings—which, Fell reminded himself, he certainly didn’t care about—he wasn’t
quite ready to die. At least, not like this. He was grateful to see that the
kitchen at least, had been spared much of the disorganisation the living room
suffered. Though there were a couple of uncleaned dishes in the sink. Swap
wandered over to the pantry, scouring it, as Fell took a seat at the table.
“Huh, well…” Swap glanced around the cupboard, “it seems we don’t really have
the ingredients for much other than spaghetti.”
A small amount of relief washed
over Fell. He could work with that. “I can make spaghetti,” he said. “It’ll
do.”
Swap glanced over his shoulder, a
wily grin plastered on his face. “I can too.”
Fell scowled, crossing his arms
with a huff. “Swap, I’m serious—I will not eat your cooking. If you’re anything
like my brother—or like Papyrus—we will both die. You’re literally a
combination of the two worst cooks in our universes.”
“I’m flattered that you think I’m
anywhere near as great as Papyrus,” Swap replied, turning back to gather up the
ingredients. “But I promise you, if I win the toss, I’m not backing down.
You’re eating my food.”
Fell was genuinely starting to
panic. He thrummed his fingers on the table in an attempt to distract himself.
“Swap, I really don’t—”
With a sigh, Swap turned, dumping
the ingredients on the table. “Alright, fine, fine, I won’t force you to eat it,” he conceded,
sounding slightly downtrodden. “But… y’know—at least give it a try.”
Fell remained stiff, but sighed
with a reluctant nod. Of course, he had no intention of following up on his
half-promise. It wasn’t just his Underfell survival instincts kicking in.
“Fine. Flip the damn coin.”
Swap grinned, seeming pleased,
excitement sparkling in his eyes. “Heads you cook, tails I cook?” Fell grumbled
his agreement, scowling at the coin. Gods he hated that coin. His soul
stuttered slightly as it landed, and he waited for Swap to reveal the result, a
nauseous pit forming in his soul. “Tails,” Swap said, shooting him a grin.
Fell’s eye sockets went wide, and
he rose from his seat abruptly, pushing away from the table. “No,” he hissed, voice strained. “Flip
it again. And this time, I’m not calling until it’s in the damn air.”
Swap cocked his head, amusement
crossing his features. “What? You don’t trust me.”
“Not. In the slightest.” Fell was
almost surprised at himself, his voice lowered to a growl. Swap simply
shrugged, flipping the coin again. “Tails,” Fell half-snapped, when he was
certain the coin was high enough for it to be impossible for Swap to rig the
toss.
Fell’s soul dipped at the smile
that crossed Swap’s face as the coin landed for the second time. “Heads.”
Fell very nearly kicked his chair
over. “No fucking way. I will not stand for this!” He knew he was being
childish, but Fell was about as eager to test Swap’s cooking as he was to sleep
naked in Snowdin Forest. Maybe even less eager. At this point, he’d take the
latter if given the option.
Swap appeared to be trying very
hard to stifle his laughter, and even Fell’s irritation couldn’t dull the warm
feeling that bloomed in his soul at the sight. “Come on, Fell. It’s not as bad
as you think. I promise not to poison you.”
“Not intentionally!”
Swap sighed, shaking his head as
he surrendered to the giggles that escaped him. Taking a few (somewhat
cautious) steps towards Fell, he held up his hands, as if in surrender. “Okay,
since you’re clearly so against this, I will allow you to assist me. No backseat cooking.”
“That’s not even a thing!” Fell
snapped, though he couldn’t deny Swap’s offer brought him a small amount of solace.
“But—fine. I will facilitate the construction of this meal—and ensure that it does not kill both of
us.”
Fell flinched as Swap placed a
hand on his arm, offering him a suspiciously affable smile. “I thank you
graciously for your service, Lieutenant.” With a little grumbling, Fell allowed
himself to be guided toward the stove. Swap reached for one of the pots in the
sink, which was still filled with grungy water. Rinsing it, he placed it on the
stove, much to Fell’s disgust.
“No,” he said firmly, grasping
Swap’s wrist as he reached to turn on the stove. Swap raised his brow bone, dubiously.
“Wash. It,” Fell bit out, earning him a roll of Swap’s eye-lights.
“Who cares? I made spaghetti in
it last time. It was only like… a day ago.”
Fell had to take a moment to stop
himself from physically gagging. “No,” he
growled, with a little more fervour. “We are not eating out of that.”
Swap sighed, stepping back with
his hands raised. “Fine. You do it then. I’ll start chopping the vegetables.”
Fell gave a relieved sigh,
pouring a significant amount of dishwashing liquid into the pot before
scrubbing it with vehemence. He was trying not to think about how long it had
been since the pot had been properly washed. He glanced over his shoulder to
see Swap laying out a chopping board, before placing a couple of carrots on it.
With an irritated growl, he finished rinsing the pot, before drying his hands
and turning to Swap. “What are you doing?” he asked, exasperated.
Swap regarded him with a puzzled
expression, brow bone arched. “Uh… chopping the vegetables? What does it look
like I’m doing, idiot?”
Fell shook his head, grinding his
teeth together. “Peel them first.”
Swap laughed, before seeing the
expression on Fell’s face. “Wait—you’re serious?”
“Of course I am! Where is your
peeler?”
Swap shrugged, glancing around.
“One of the drawers, probably. Along with the rest of the useless stuff. Come
on, Fell, this is a waste of time.”
Fell shook his head, scavenging
the drawers until he found the small tool. “The food I eat must be of adequate quality—unpeeled
vegetables do not make for an adequate meal.” He nudged Swap away from the
chopping board, and began peeling the carrots. “Just—boil some water in the
kettle.”
Swap scowled, appearing less than
pleased at being side-lined in his own cooking. “Hm. Fine. Just remember who
won the toss, asshole.”
“Just trying to keep you alive,”
Fell muttered as he peeled. They worked in silence for the next few minutes,
Fell giving Swap a few menial tasks to do while he chopped the vegetables.
Eventually however, after a little nagging on Swap’s part, he conceded to let
his counterpart return to the vegetables (but not without close supervision).
Fell poured a small sprinkling of olive oil into a pan, before setting the
sauce to simmer with a few cloves of garlic. He leaned against the counter for
a moment, taking a deep breath. Okay, he seemed to have a handle on this.
He frowned as he suddenly noticed
Swap sprinkling something pale and blue over the chopped vegetables. “What—what are you doing?” he exclaimed with a
gasp, rushing over to pull Swap away.
Swap yanked out of Fell’s grip,
looking irritated. “Adding flavour, you asshole. Let me make my own damn meal.”
Fell gaped at the small blue
shreds of… he couldn’t quite figure out what they were. “What is this?” he
asked, examining the tub containing the odd ingredient.
“Uh… Echo Flower petals,” Swap
said, shrugging. “Blue and I wanted to experiment.”
Fell blinked. He’d seen the Echo
Flowers around Underswap and Undertale a few times. The whispering had
unsettled him at first, but over time he’d become used to it. But, not once had
he considered eating them. “H-how do
they taste?” he asked, giving the small pieces of flower a distrustful look.
“Well, if they tasted bad I
wouldn’t be adding them, would I, brat?”
Fell grumbled, placing the tub
back on the counter. The more sensible (Underfell) part of his mind was
screaming at him that it was a terrible idea to trust this addition. Yes, he
was (almost one hundred percent) certain that Swap wouldn’t attempt to poison
him, but even so… he couldn’t shake his instinctual feeling of doubt. But, as
he glanced up to see the look on Swap’s face—a strange mixture of irritation
and hurt—he couldn’t help but give in to the guilty lump in his chest. “Add it
once the vegetables are simmering,” he said, quietly. “The flavour will blend
in better that way.”
The way Swap’s face lit up was
almost instantaneous, and Fell’s soul clenched a little. He forced himself to
turn away, busying himself with adding the boiling water to the pot as he
turned the stove on. The remainder of the cooking procedure ran with surprising
smoothness, and Fell allowed himself (albeit hesitantly) to take a back foot in
the process, only giving pointers where necessary. He was a little taken aback
to realise that Swap actually seemed to know what he was doing—for the most
part. Fell was still reeling over the fact that he’d almost cooked the pasta in
an unwashed pot. “Since when do you cook?” he asked, as Swap added the
finishing touches to the sauce and vegetables. Fell had resigned himself to
taking a seat, certain that—should the kitchen set alight—he should be able to
get up on time to escape.
To his surprise, Swap looked
embarrassed, glancing away to focus on the pan, but failing to hide the pale
blush on his cheek bones. “Uh… Blue’s been teaching me,” he mumbled, adding a
sprinkle of salt to the pan.
Fell raised his brow bone. “Since
when?” He hadn’t realised Swap cared. He knew that his own brother would be
anything but eager to take cooking lessons from him; Fell had long ago accepted
that all responsibilities involving household chores would fall to him.
“’Bout a month ago,” Swap said,
shrugging. Fell was about to ask why, when Swap turned, hastily adding, “Food’s
ready.”
Fell held his gaze for a moment,
sensing there was something more to Swap’s eagerness to change topic, but he
decided to let it go, helping set the table. When they sat down to eat, Fell
waited a few moments for Swap to take the first bite. It was less because of
his mistrust of Swap’s cooking, and more because of the naturally ingrained
survival instinct, ever-present in his mind. After deciding that he didn’t have
anything to worry about, Fell hesitantly took a small bite, pausing for a
moment to allow the flavour to sink in. He swallowed, glancing up to find Swap
watching him intently. “H-how is it?” he asked, sounding apprehensive.
Fell gave a slow nod of his head
as he chewed his second mouthful. “It’s… good.” He cleared his throat, before
taking a third bite. “Very good. Colour me impressed, Ashtray.”
Fell didn’t miss the small smile
that Swap tried to hide by glancing away and shovelling another forkful into
his mouth. It coaxed a smile out of Fell himself, who had similar success in
hiding it. The conversation between them was absent for a few minutes, though
Fell found he didn’t mind. It was comfortable, and he was too enraptured by the
interesting flavour the Echo Flower added to the meal. After a time however,
Swap quietly said, “So… how are you feeling?”
Fell’s gaze snapped up, and he
narrowed his eye sockets. Swap had stopped eating in favour of surveying Fell
scrupulously, as if waiting for him to snap. Fell hated that look. He saw it
enough on his brother—especially recently. “I’m fine,” he said, stiffly. “And I
told you before—I don’t want to discuss my… behaviour from earlier.”
“And I’m not asking you to,” Swap
said, a considerable amount of collectedness injected into his tone. “I’m just
asking if you’re doing okay.”
Fell grumbled his disapproval of
Swap’s inquisitiveness, staring at his plate, appetite suddenly gone. “I’m…”
Under the table, Fell clenched his fist where it was rested on his femur, swallowing.
“I’ll be okay,” he said, hearing the strain in his own voice. “It takes time,
usually, for my magic to calm down.” While Fell was finding it more and more
difficult to deny the effect Swap had on his magic, part of his agitation could
irrefutably be boiled down to his LV. It was becoming increasingly taxing to go
without using his magic without snapping every now and then—the incident at
Muffet’s had hardly done him any favours when it came to keeping it reigned in.
“I know,” Swap said, quietly. “And—I
also know that… saying that LV is just a number is making something complex way
too simple, but…” Swap paused, sighing. “Well, when it comes to you, it
basically is—just a number, that is. You… You’re a good person, Fell. At
least—you try to be. And that’s what’s important. That’s what I l—” Swap
quickly broke off, clearing his throat. “Is there—can—can I help in any way?” he
stuttered, seeming hesitant to breach the question. “I mean—only if you want me
to; I don’t want to overstep—”
Fell shook his head, smiling.
“You have been helping me, actually. Our… arrangement has given me a bit of an
outlet, to put it bluntly.” A small part of Fell couldn’t help but wonder if
his sanity had been hinging on Swap this entire time.
Swap looked taken aback, blinking
for a moment. “O-oh.” His cheek bones had taken on a pale orange tint, and he
glanced away, nodding. “Okay.” Seeming unsure of himself, he rose from his
seat, quickly gathering up his and Fell’s plates, dropping them into the sink
along with the other dishes from dinner. He turned back to Fell, who noted that
his face was now a deeper shade of golden-orange than he could ever recall
seeing it. “Well, um, considering… what happened earlier… do you maybe want
to…” Swap was looking very flustered all of a sudden, and Fell frowned, finding
it strangely uncanny of the normally laid-back monster. Swap’s gaze flicked to
the kitchen door, before he quietly muttered, “We could, um, go upstairs and…”
Swap’s meaning finally registered
with Fell, and his soul flipped. “Oh,” was all he seemed capable of saying.
“Well, I—”
“It’s fine if you don’t want to,”
Swap added, quickly. “I mean, it’s no different from all the other times—I
just… never realised I was actually helping you… heh.” Swap was still looking
apprehensive, his hands shoved in his pockets, and his eyes seeming to focus
anywhere but Fell’s face.
But Fell couldn’t help the
traitorous thought that told him that—no, this was different from all the other times. It felt different, in any
case. So different. And he couldn’t understand it. Normally, things were so
easy with Swap. They met up, teased each other a bit, then fucked. And… that
was it. But now… this offer seemed to carry a significantly deeper meaning. It
felt like… a step forward, an admission to something with greater consequences,
more weight.
Fell found himself struggling to
answer. His words seemed caught, his ribcage constricting around his soul.
“Swap, I—I don’t want you to feel like you have to—”
But Swap was already shaking his
head, a small smile on his face. “I know I don’t. But I… I want to.”
Fell nodded stiffly, mumbling,
“Right,” before delving back into his battling thoughts. He knew how this must
look. Swap probably thought his hesitance was reluctance—but in truth, it was
anything but that. More than
anything, Fell wanted to go upstairs with Swap. To further… whatever this was.
Whatever it might lead to. He couldn’t seem to control his racing soul, or the
churning magic that couldn’t seem to decide how to direct itself.
“Hey, Fell, we don’t have to do
this, if you don’t want to.”
“I do want to,” Fell said hurriedly, before quickly snapping his mouth
shut. “I—I mean, I don’t know. I don’t…”
As Fell trailed off, staring at
the table, Swap walked over to him slowly, placing a gentle hand on his
shoulder. “You know, this is probably a terrible idea, but…” Fell glanced up in
time to see Swap extracting the coin from his pocket. “Flip on it?”
Fell couldn’t stop the surprised
laugh that escaped him. “You want to leave this decision to the universe?” He
stood, shaking his head, still laughing shakily. “Fine, what the hell.”
Swap smirked, though there was an
element of anxious energy behind the look, his eye-lights flickering dimly.
“Heads you stay… tails you go?” Fell nodded stiffly, hands twisting together as
he watched Swap flip the coin into the air. The seconds seemed to tick by
agonisingly as Swap turned his hand to reveal the outcome. Fell’s soul gave a
stutter of disappointment. “Tails…” Swap’s voice was barely a whisper, and Fell
ached at the look on his face, certain it mirrored his own.
They stood in silence for a few
moments, and while Fell couldn’t be certain, he was sure Swap’s thoughts were
similar to his own. His doppelgänger’s hands shook slightly as they held the
coin, and Fell swallowed, his magic almost burning through his bones.
This shouldn’t be so complicated.
It should be easy. Simple.
Straightforward. The way Fell liked things to be. He liked having structure. A
set of rules to follow. And right now, the rules were telling him to walk away.
To listen to the universe—to leave.
But everything about staying felt
so right. So confusing, and complicated, and messy—the way Fell hated things to
be. But… it felt good. His soul seemed to light up in his chest at the
prospect. The thought of being with Swap just a moment longer sent a blaze of
excitement through him that felt too strong to ignore.
It was all too much. And Fell
couldn’t bear the anticipation a moment longer. Unable to withstand the
overwhelming urge for another second, Fell gripped onto Swap’s shoulders,
pulling him close. “Fuck the universe,” he growled, before pressing their
mouths together in a deep kiss. It felt every bit as right as he could have
hoped.
****
“Hey.” Fell glanced up in time to
catch the coin as Swap flicked it to him. “I have a new rule.”
Fell glanced at the small piece
of metal for a moment, turning it over in his hand before looking up at Swap. “Do
you now?”
“Yup. Rule number thirteen—no
more leaving it to the universe to decide what we do. That stupid coin is going
to cause us more grief than it’s worth. Fuck the universe.”
Fell chuckled quietly, nodding as
he shoved the coin in his pocket. “Wholeheartedly—fuck the universe.” He
shifted under the bed’s covers, so that his chest was pressed to Swap’s back,
silently relishing in the way they seemed to fit together so perfectly –
although perhaps it was the bliss of his post-orgasmic haze. “Honestly, nothing
says ‘fuck you’ to the universe like—well, fucking.”
The soft vibrations of Swap’s
laughter resonated through Fell’s chest, which practically glowed as Swap
shifted to press himself closer. “I believe you just made a pun, Fell.”
Fell scowled against the back of
Swap’s neck. “I most certainly did not. And if you bring it up again, you can
be sure this will be the last time we ever have sex.”
Fell knew it was an empty threat
if ever he’d made one, but Swap played along nonetheless, mimicking zipping his
mouth closed. “Consider these lips sealed.”
Fell was tempted to mention that
Swap didn’t actually have lips, but if growing up with Red had taught him
anything—it was that any comment relating to a skeleton’s biology was a trap
leading to some grand joke.
So, silence lingered between them
for a moment—a nice silence. A comfortable one. Fell subconsciously rested his
head on Swap’s shoulder, allowing his breath to tickle his counterpart’s cheek
bone. He almost flinched when Swap finally spoke, his voice low and already
sounding heavy with drowsiness. “It really does pay off not to listen to the
universe…”
Fell was more than inclined to
agree. His magic felt alive—and in the best way possible. He wasn’t buzzing
with anger or apprehension; he didn’t feel ready to snap. He felt… safe.
Content. At ease. It was as if the weight of his doubts had been lifted,
leaving only a glimmer of uncertainty.
That glimmer was still there,
though. This was new territory for him—he’d never felt… this particular emotion
in his life (at least, not at this magnitude), and the unknown frightened him. He
was sort of grateful for the elaborate set of rules they’d constructed; they
brought some sense of stability to this. Something to fall back on, should
things go awry. Fell knew it wasn’t completely reasonable—that if anything, he
should be discarding the rules and confessing to everything—but that part of
him that liked things to be simple, straightforward, and structured, was still
clinging onto those rules.
He breathed in the slowly fading
scent of Swap’s magic, still sweet in the air, and his soul squeezed. This felt
good. It felt right. And entirely too unreal, to think that the universe was
allowing him this moment—this completely untainted moment of happiness. He
swallowed against the tears that prickled at the back of his sockets, unwilling
to allow his own fragility to ruin this. He needed to retain his durability if
he was going to get through this without messing it up. He couldn’t allow
himself to crumble—not now, when he was so close to attaining… something good. Something so good. Something better than
anything he’d ever dared to hope for.
(A small, cruel voice in his head
was whispering to him that he didn’t deserve this. After all, what had the
Great and Terrible Papyrus ever done to earn something so good? His LV alone
was enough to exempt him from ever deserving any peace of mind—any clarity in
his soul. The things he’d done, be it in the name of survival or not, could not
be forgiven this easily. The universe was playing a twisted trick on him—any
moment, and this would all be snatched away.)
But for now, Fell ignored that
voice. He ignored every worry warring in his mind, and allowed himself to enjoy
the silence, broken only by Swap’s deep breathing. Almost on instinct, he
wrapped his arms a little tighter around Swap, pulled him a little closer,
buried his face a little deeper into the crook of his neck—just in case the
universe decided to try and seize this from him.
****
For the second time that night,
Fell was awoken from his half-conscious doze by the rude buzzing of his phone.
He glanced down to see Red’s number, and with a groan (and considerable reluctance), he drew away from Swap, climbing out of
the bed and creeping out of the room before answering. “Red, what in the name
of—this is the second time you’ve
interrupted me tonight!” he hissed, keeping his voice low lest he awake Swap.
“What is this—”
“F-Fell, this is Blue. I—something’s
happened to Red.”
And just like that, everything
seemed to crumble. Every shred of stability, of repose, of contentment—was
wiped away. It was as if Fell had been struck, his soul feeling so tight in his
chest, he was certain he must be suffocating. The less reasonable part of his
mind told him that this was somehow his fault;
that he’d somehow angered the universe by allowing himself that single moment
of happiness. His hand clenched around the phone, and he strained to get his
words out. “Blue. What happened?”
“I—I don’t know. He was fine—and
then I turned around, and…” Blue trailed off, voice cracking. “F-Fell, I think
you should get over here. I—I don’t know if—”
“I’m on my way,” Fell said,
already at the front door. As the cold Snowdin air hit him, the warm afterglow
of Swap’s presence seemed to extinguish from his soul, leaving nothing but the
harsh cold he knew he deserved.
****
When Fell reached Muffet’s, Blue
was already waiting for him outside. He was feebly supporting Red, whose arm
was draped over his shoulders, his entire body slumped forward. “What happened?” Fell demanded, hardly
focused enough to keep his tone anything but brusque as he rushed towards them,
grabbing a hold of Red to keep him upright.
“I don’t know,” Blue admitted,
worry creasing his brow bone as he allowed Fell to examine Red. A brief
inspection told him that his brother wasn’t completely unconscious, his eye
sockets heavily lidded, but the dim flicker of his red eye-lights still
visible. He was groaning slightly, a trail of drool running down his chin.
Fell’s first instinct was to check for injuries, but a cursory once-over didn’t
reveal any. A quick check of Red’s stats showed no damage to his HP either,
which brought a great amount of relief.
Fell looked back up at his
brother’s counterpart from where he was crouched in the snow, and he could feel
the uncomfortable return of rage-fuelled magic swirling in his scarred eye
socket. “Blue, you need to run me through everything that happened since you set foot in the bar—everything.”
The stars in Blue’s eye-lights
had all but flickered out, his features stricken with panic. With a deep breath
and a shaky nod, he dove into a quick run-down of his and Red’s activities for
that evening. Nothing seemed amiss, until he reached the part where they’d
ordered drinks. Fell narrowed his eye sockets, regarding Blue intently. “He…
didn’t drink anything?”
“Not much—only half a glass at
most. I was talking to someone and—and when I turned around, he was…” Blue
swallowed, shakily wiping away the tears pooling in his eye sockets. “F-Fell,
is he going to be okay…?”
But Fell was barely paying
attention, his mind reeling. A slow, sickening realisation dawned on him, and
his hands unconsciously clenched into fists as he rose from the ground. “Blue.
Take Red home—your home, I don’t want him in Underfell in this state. Get him
to bed. He’ll be fine.”
Blue opened his mouth, seeming
briefly lost for words. “H-he will? Fell, what—”
“Now, Blue,” Fell snapped,
causing Blue to flinch slightly. “Get him away from here. I trust you to take
care of him. Don’t—” Fell hesitated, trying to take a deep, stabilising breath
“—don’t come back here tonight.”
For a second, Blue remained
frozen, and Fell feared he’d have to reiterate for a third time. But then, as
if a switch had flicked in his mind, Blue seemed to spring into action, nodding
with a new sense of determination. He pulled himself up straight, lifting Red
into his arms with strength uncharacteristic of a Sans. “I’ll take care of him,
Fell. I promise.” He held Fell’s gaze for a moment, as if trying to discern
what his plans were. But he seemed to think better of it, giving one final nod,
before hurrying off towards his home.
The moment he was gone, Fell was
turning, eye-lights ablaze with wrathful magic. He pushed open the door to the
bar, storming inside with a deliberate sense of purpose. It was a lot emptier
than it had been earlier, many patrons likely having gone home for the night.
But Fell spotted who he was looking for almost immediately.
The Astigmatism he’d encountered
earlier that night sat at the bar, slouched slightly as if trying to remain
inconspicuous. Fell ignored the curious gazes he received as he marched
forward, every ounce of his remaining self-control channelled towards not
dusting the creature right here and now. It didn’t stop him from handling the
monster with more than necessary roughness. As he reached the bar, he took a
firm grip of the creature’s arm, yanking it off the stool. It gave a yelp of
surprise, a look of horror crossing its face as it turned to see him. “You’re
coming with me,” Fell hissed, feeling the flames of his magic curling from his
scarred eye socket. The monster opened its mouth in protest, but Fell leaned
forward, lowering his voice to a growl. “Any resistance, and I’ll dust you
right here. Consequences be damned.”
With a weakly concealed whimper,
the Astigmatism conceded, allowing itself to be dragged across the room,
stumbling to keep up. Just as it had been earlier, every set of eyes was on
Fell, but he didn’t have enough composure remaining to bring himself to care.
Every step he took was fuelled by fury, the temperament of his LV seeping into
his intent.
The Astigmatism must have been
holding back for the sake of appearances when inside the bar, because as soon
as the cold air hit them, it began writhing and screeching, trying to free
itself from Fell’s grip. But the Tale verse monster’s strength was pitiful in
comparison to Fell’s, and in mere seconds, he had it pinned to the wall, his
gloved hand choking it as he finally allowed his magic to emanate from him with
free, untamed rage. “P-please, don’t—!” The Astigmatism’s plea was cut off with
a gag as Fell tightened his hold.
“I don’t want to hear another
word from you,” Fell spat, utterly disgusted. “I don’t want to hear your
excuses, your justifications, your begging. Everything about you repels me.”
The creature began to sob, fat tears leaking from its central eye. Fell
couldn’t even find it within himself to pity it, revulsion and fury dominating
his emotions. With a bland roll of his eye-lights, he sighed in contempt. “And
for my own sanity, do not waste my
time with your infantile weeping.”
“P-please—I… I d-didn’t—h-hurt
your friend—” The Astigmatism’s words were choked out between heavy gasps. “I
d-didn’t—”
“Oh, enough,” Fell griped,
boredom dripping from his tone. “I suppose you think what you did was
incredibly clever—wait until the intimidating monster leaves the bar, then drug
someone else. How unfortunate for you that that someone else happened to be mybrother.”
Fell could feel the charge of his
LV, coursing through his bones as it powered his rage, infused into his magic.
And he didn’t care. He didn’t care that he’d snapped. He didn’t care that he’d
lost control. He didn’t care that everything felt cold and empty, the only
warmth coming from the hot, angry magic burning through him.
It was immensely satisfying
seeing the way the Astigmatism’s already large eye widened even further at
Fell’s revelation. A cruel smirk twisted its way onto his features. “That’s
right. So unlucky. Perhaps karma was working against you. Maybe next time you
should avoid spiking anyone’s drink entirely. But—oh.” Fell gave a low chuckle,
a cold sound devoid of any humour. “I suppose there won’t be a next time for
you.”
The creature’s whimpers and cries
began anew, as did its fruitless struggles against Fell’s grip. “Please—please,
I didn’t know—I didn’t know! I didn’t—” It broke off with a choked cry of agony
as Fell slammed its head against the wall, his sharp fingers tightening.
“You vile, sick piece of filth,” he snarled, magic flaring in the
air around him. “Creatures like you don’t deserve mercy. You deserve nothing. You’re worthless. Irredeemable. You don’t deserve to exist in this world.”
In times to come, Fell would
never be able to pinpoint exactly what triggered it, but in that moment, he
could almost hear Swap’s words in his head—‘You’re
a good person, Fell. At least—you try to be. And that’s what’s important.
That’s what I l—’
Fell’s soul seemed to freeze in
his chest, for the first time, unsure of how he wanted to proceed. More than
anything, he wanted to hear the end of that sentence. To hear the words that
would set everything right; cure him of this hatred. He wanted Swap to say
those words—unblemished by what he would think of Fell if he went through with
this. He wanted to allow the feeling of peace and tranquillity back in—to rid
himself of this burden of malevolence.
This desire warred with the other
part of him—the part still dominated by his LOVE. The part that had driven him
to make it his goal to destroy the creature still struggling under his grip.
The part overwhelmed by animosity—by disgust, hatred, wrath. Fell hated that
part of himself.
Hated that he couldn’t control
it.
Almost…
Marginally loosening his grip on
the monster, Fell reached into his pocket, retrieving the small coin Swap had
given to him. He only noticed that his hand was shaking when he tried to
balance it between two fingers. Levelling the creature’s gaze, Fell gave a shuddering
sigh, holding the coin up. “Since I’m feeling generous—I’ll leave your fate up
to the universe.” Fell was feeling anything but generous, this was merely his last dash attempt at salvaging himself from
his crumbling stability—and his submission to his own LOVE. “Heads, you live.
Tails, you die.” Fell’s voice quivered slightly, the fierce determination from
moments ago lost in the conflicting battle between his two greatest impulses.
Hand still unsteady, Fell flipped
the coin into the air, the Astigmatism’s panicked gaze following it all the way
until it landed back on Fell’s palm. The skeleton glanced at it briefly,
swallowing and giving a hollow nod. “Tails it is.” He shoved the coin back in
his pocket, mind almost on automatic as he summoned an attack—a crimson bone
with its end sharpened to a needle-like point—charged with magical killing
intent. “Looks like the universe isn’t on your side.”
Okay, so this is actually pretty intricately tied to how I think her meeting with Blue would go. And it’s a little something like this:
Felldyne inhaled sharply and clamped a clawed hand over her (new) girlfriend’s shoulder. Alphys looked over at her, confused, and Felldyne drew her close. “Alphys,” Felldyne said slowly, “can we adopt a skeleton?”
The small, blue-clad skeleton across the field started waving excitedly as soon as he saw them. Stars—actual stars!—danced in his sockets and he grinned broadly, obviously delighted to see them. “…didn’t you already adopt a skeleton?” Alphys asked, earning a glare from Edge.
“Yeah, but he’s an asshole!” That earned a growl. “This one’s adorable!”
“Careful,” Edge cautioned, still glaring at both of them. “He’s already got an overprotective reptile breathing down his neck. He doesn’t require an overprotective fish as well.”
“Huh?” Then Felldyne saw a battle-scarred lizard monster approach the smaller skeleton, chatting amicably. She was short and heavily muscled, and missing one eye. Felldyne grinned and rolled her head and shoulders. Loosening up. “I can take her.”
“Undyne. No.”
“HEY! THUNDER THIGHS! YEAH, I’M TALKING TO YOU! LET’S DO THIS!”
Edge sighed and massaged the ridge of bone between his sockets as Felldyne and Swaphys ran toward each other, both of them shouting. “I knew this was a bad idea.”
(Alright. I had a couple requests to continue this, so—)
“I told you that was a bad idea.”
Felldyne groaned, a bag of ice pressed against her cheek. “Fuck off, gutter-rat—“
“and I thought I told you not to call him that,” Paps said, coming up behind her.
She raised a hand, grinning. “Heya, contingency plan! What’s up!?”
“oh, you know. not much. just another beautiful day on the surface. birds are singing. flowers blooming. and a pair of overly-aggressive morons are beating each other senseless in a public park. good thing rus convinced the cops this was some kind of monster tradition, or you two coulda been arrested. the fuck were you two arguing about anyway?”
“She wants to adopt your brother.”
Paps was silent for a few seconds. “…i’m not sure how i feel about that, honestly.”
“What!? How could you—“ At that moment, Blue bounced over. He took Edge’s hand—perfectly smooth and natural—and pulled him down to kiss him on the cheek.
“Everything settled over here?” Blue asked. “The burgs and hot cats are almost ready.” He turned a concerned eye on Felldyne. “You’re okay, right?”
Felldyne stared back at him with wide eyes. “…stars. You’re so fucking precious. Come here.” She caught him around the shoulders and drew him in, staring deep into his eyelights. “What’s your name?”
Blue leaned away from her, his smile uneasy. “Uh. Everyone calls me Blue, but my real name is Sans.”
“Fuck. You’re so cute I don’t even care you’re a version of that asshole.”
“…You really shouldn’t curse. It’s rude.”
Felldyne’s eyes grew even wider and she took a steadying breath. “How are you this adorable!?” she demanded, almost affronted. “I’m gonna keep you.”
“Undyne!” Edge snapped. “You can’t just keep him!”
“Says who?”
“Says everyone! Stars above, why do I have to explain this!?”
“…gotta say, i would not be okay with that,” Paps added.
“We can be friends though!” Blue added brightly, his smile more genuine. “But you really can’t keep me. Sorry.” He extracted himself carefully, grinning all the while.
Felldyne eyed him, then nodded. “Alright, punk, fair enough. But I expect to see you on Thursday night at my house. The gutter-rat and I run a self-defense class, and a little thing like you needs to know how to defend himself. Deal?”
Blue’s eyes exploded into hearts and he abruptly hugged her before running off. “I’LL DEFINITELY BE THERE!”
Edge watched him go, chuckling. Then he realized that Felldyne was glaring at him. “What?”
“He kissed you. Are you two dating?”
“Yes. Is that a problem?”
“…gutter-rat, if you fuck this up, I’m gonna make you do push-ups for a year.”
Paps snorted and started laughing, while Edge just looked affronted.
This was too cute—I think I need to punch something!
The cold snowflakes landing on his bones, the gentle breeze rustling through the trees—they were simply background noise, secondary to the incredible feeling of Swap’s magic, humming against his. It wasn’t enough—but at the same time, it was all too much – Sixteen Rules by @alicedragons (warning the fic is very much 18+ NSFW)
Bourbon, your art gives me chills. Pun only slightly intended.
Summary: Fell makes a few confessions. It’s fluffy. (Sorry, I’m feeling lazy today)
Relationship: UF Papyrus/US Papyrus
Tags: Fluff, mild alcohol consumption, kissing, very mild sexual content (like, none basically for once wow)
Warnings: Mention of date-rape, attempted drugging, mention of abusive relationships
Word count: 6,737 (another long one because I have no control over myself!)
“You can at least pretend to look
happy to see me, brat.”
“Where are our brothers?” Fell
asked, ignoring Swap in favour of glancing over his shoulder, as if Red and
Blue might be hiding behind him. Swap slid into the booth beside Fell, who gave
him a scowl, shuffling to the opposite side.
“Said they wanted to grab
something to eat before coming here,” Swap said with a shrug. Fell grimaced as
he withdrew a pack of cigarettes from his hoodie pocket, placing one between
his teeth.
“Don’t you—put that thing away!”
Fell snapped, trying to reach for Swap’s lighter. But the lazier skeleton
pulled away, regarding him with a dubious smirk.
“Are we having sex, asshole? I
can smoke if I want. Muff doesn’t care.” Fell opened his mouth to retort, but
figured there was no point arguing, so he folded his arms stiffly, silently
fuming. He tried to ignore the laid-back smirk on Swap’s face, glancing away
and tapping his fingers on the table.
For a couple of minutes, silence
reigned between them, the sound of buzzing conversation and clinking glasses
growing louder as Muffet’s bar filled up for happy hour. Fell sipped idly on
his own drink, trying not to let his eyes wander to Swap, intent on maintaining
an indifferent façade. He was almost regretting pre-emptively ordering a drink
(or two) before Swap had arrived—he hadn’t forgotten their eleventh rule, and
had no intention of breaking it. Still, it would have been nice to blow off
some steam while they waited for their brothers. Fell couldn’t deny the fact
that it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep his gaze off Swap, who had
closed his eyes closed, and was leaning back against the cushions of the booth.
“Hang on a minute,” Fell said,
something suddenly occurring to him. Swap cracked an eye socket open, brow bone
raised. “Why are our brothers eating before coming here? We’re—we’re supposed
to be having dinner with them!”
Swap frowned for a minute, as if
in thought. But, he gave a shrug, making a non-committal noise. “Eh, Blue hates
this place. And I guess the stuff here is too sweet for Red.” A sly smirk
crossed Swap’s features. “You don’t mind sweet things though, do you Fell?”
Fell managed to control his
magic, shoving down the blush that threatened to colour his cheek bones.
“They’re alright,” he said, waving his hand in nonchalance. “As long as they
aren’t speaking.”
Swap gave a soft laugh, and it
took a significant amount of self-restraint for Fell to keep the smile off his
face. Damn it. He hated that stupid
laugh. Why would he…?
“So, you wanna play a game?” Swap
asked, stubbing his cigarette out against the table. Fell blinked, frowning.
“A game? What are you talking
about?”
Swap shrugged, reaching into his
pocket and pulling out a small coin. “Just a little time-passer. You win the
toss—you get to dare me to do something; I win—you’re gonna start losing
articles of clothing, Fell.”
Fell stared, his soul skipping a
beat. “What…what?”
Swap chuckled, shaking his head
as he skilfully flicked the coin between his fingers. “I’m messing with you,
brat. No kinky stuff allowed—as per rule number eleven.”
Fell breathed a sigh of relief,
his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Are we going to be drinking?”
“Oh, I’m definitely going to need
a couple of drinks in me for this—it tends to get a little… personal.” Swap
winked, and Fell glanced away, taking a sip of his drink to hide the pale blush
on his cheeks. A small spiderling scuttled over, wearing a purple bow and… tiny
shoes on all eight of its feet. Fell wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to this
world. “Just two ciders,” Swap said. The spiderling leaned close to whisper
something to him, and Swap gave a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “Heh. Just
the normal ones. He isn’t coming home with me tonight—at least not in that
way.” Swap smirked up at Fell as the spiderling scurried away to the bar, and
the latter frowned in confusion.
“The… normal ones?”
Swap gave a dismissive wave of
his hand, pulling another cigarette from his pocket. “Don’t worry about it.
Ready for round one?” He turned the small coin between his thumb and
forefinger, reaching for his lighter.
Fell nodded, regarding the
cigarette with disdain. “Yes.”
Swap raised his brow bone. “Heads
or tails?”
Fell narrowed his eye sockets,
folding his arms across his chest. “Like I trust you not to rig the toss—flip
it first, then I’ll choose.”
Swap grinned, tongue flicking
over his teeth for a brief moment. “You Underfell bastards are so uptight. Do
you doubt my honesty?”
Fell stared at Swap, deadpan.
“Completely.”
“Heh. Smart guy. Have it your way
then.” Swap flicked the coin into the air, Fell calling heads before it landed.
Swap’s smirk didn’t falter as he revealed the coin, and for a brief moment,
Fell’s soul flipped. “Heads it is,” Swap said, and Fell slumped with relief. He
wasn’t eager to discover what exactly Swap had in store for him.
“Hmm…” Fell’s gaze glided over
Swap as if in thought, though he already knew what his first dare was going to
be. “No more smoking for the rest of the night.” He leaned back, feeling very
satisfied at the small scowl Swap gave him.
“Ugh. Asshole.” Swap put away his
lighter, shoving the cigarette back in its box. “Hm. Round two.”
“Tails,” Fell called, as Swap
flipped the coin into the air. He grimaced as Swap revealed the outcome—perhaps
more so because the smirk had returned to Swap’s face.
“Heh. My turn. I dare you to…”
Swap’s eyes wandered over Fell in a way that made him feel awfully exposed. He
glanced at the bar, tapping his fingers on the table. These drinks were taking
a dreadfully long time. “Take off your scarf,” Swap said at last.
Fell looked up, eyes widening.
Instinctively, he reached a hand protectively up to the red fabric. “W-what?
No! You said no stripping.”
Swap scoffed, giving a wave of
his hand. “Please, it’s hardly stripping.”
“Then—then why do you want me to
take it off?” Fell asked, indignantly.
“’Cause I wanna wear it,” Swap
said, shrugging as if it were the most normal request in the Underground.
Inexplicably, this made Fell’s soul lurch. He felt a heat rising to his cheek
bones, and he scowled at the table, slowly unravelling his scarf from his neck.
“Fine. But you’d better give it
back at the end of the night, Ashtray.” He handed the scarf to Swap with a
slight lump in his throat, his neck suddenly feeling very on display. The
spiderling scuttling back over with their drinks was a welcome sight, and Fell
gulped almost half of his down before the little monster had even disappeared back
into the crowd. He glanced up, and his soul stuttered slightly at the sight of
Swap wearing his scarf.
While the red didn’t exactly
complement the bright orange of Swap’s hoodie, Fell couldn’t stop the
traitorous thoughts that told him Swap looked very… good, in his clothing. He
swallowed down the magic pooling in his mouth, glancing at the coin in Swap’s
hand. “Well? Round three?”
Swap smiled, hand brushing
against the scarf for a brief moment as he flipped the coin into the air, Fell
calling tails again (his hand clenched into a fist under the table). “Heads,”
Swap said, and Fell grumbled, glowering at the bottom of his empty glass as he
placed it on the table. Swap surveyed Fell for a moment, before saying, “How
are things between you and Red?”
Fell’s gaze shot up in surprise,
eye sockets going wide. “What? That isn’t a dare!”
Swap rolled his eye-lights,
huffing. “Fine. I dare you to tell me how things are between you and Red.”
Fell swallowed thickly, hearing
his own knuckles cracking as he clenched his fist harder. He really didn’t want
to answer this question. Not least because he was pretty certain Swap was just
trying to get under his metaphorical skin. But when he looked up, Swap was
observing him with startling sincerity, and Fell couldn’t help but wonder if he
was genuinely curious. “Why are you even asking…?” he said, eventually. “What’s
it to you what constitutes my relationship with my brother?”
Swap shrugged, swirling his glass
absent-mindedly as he picked at a chipped part of the table. “Red’s been
spending a fair bit of time with my brother… more than normal. I only wondered
if…”
“Things are fine,” Fell said,
stiffly.
“Are you sure?” Swap asked,
looking up. Fell glanced at him, not bothering to hide his irritation, and Swap
quickly shook his head. “I—I mean, I don’t want to pry, but… you can tell me if
something’s bothering you.”
Fell grimaced, glaring at the
table. This felt an awful lot like the other night, when Swap had somehow
managed to coax him into spilling his feelings. Though… it hadn’t been entirely
awful, having someone to talk to. Even if it was Swap. With a reluctant sigh,
he conceded (though not before downing the remainder of his drink). “Things
aren’t…” he swallowed, unsure how to proceed without bearing his soul to his
counterpart. “I’m not the only one affected by my… impulses,” he finally
admitted, his throat feeling tight. “The anti-dusting thing, it… well, perhaps
I’ve been a little more abrasive than necessary with my brother recently.”
Swap raised his brow bone, his
faint amusement betrayed by the brief flicker of sympathy in his eyes. “More
abrasive than normal? How’d you even manage that?”
Fell scowled, waving him off.
Naturally, Swap had chosen the most inappropriate moment to make a joke at
Fell’s expense (he denied the small voice that told him Swap had done it for his
benefit rather than to his detriment). “Trust you to use any opportunity to
mock me.”
Swap raised his glass. “Cheers to
that. Next round?” he asked, coin already in the air.
“Yes. Heads.”
Swap glanced at the coin, smiling
faintly. “Tails.” Fell glowered, going to take a sip of his drink, only to find
it empty. Swap seemed to notice his disgruntlement, because he chuckled.
“Alright, I’ll give you an easy one—you get the next round of drinks.”
Fell glanced at his empty glass,
and shrugged with a sigh. “Fine—but only because I’m empty. Otherwise you’d be
marching that lazy ass of yours up there yourself.”
“If you weren’t so attractive, I
might actually be pissed at you for calling my beautiful ass lazy.”
Flustered, Fell spluttered his
annoyance as he scrambled from his seat, hurrying over to the bar as Swap
chuckled quietly behind him. He wasn’t sure how much more of Swap’s incessant
flirting he could handle. His cheek bones were already burning like a furnace,
and he could feel unwelcome magic humming through his bones. He swallowed
thickly as he approached the bar, ignoring the irritated grumbles of the
monsters he pushed past. Much to his relief, Muffet scurried over to him as
soon as he sat down—whether it was because he was here with Swap, or simply
because of his physical appearance, Fell wasn’t sure (nor did he care, really).
“What can I get for you, dearie~?” she asked, in that
uncomfortably trilling voice of hers.
Fell glanced at Swap for a moment,
only to find the lazy skeleton smirking at him, Fell’s scarf twisted around his
hand. Fell flushed deeply, quickly looking away. “Um, just two ciders.” He
tapped his fingers on the bar, keeping his gaze firmly planted on the dingy
wood, trying to force his blush down.
Muffet stood in front of him for
a moment, observing him curiously. Fell noticed her gaze briefly flickering to
Swap, before she said, “And were those the normal ciders, or…?”
Fell’s eyes snapped up, and he
felt involuntary magic crackling in one of his sockets. “The normal ones,” he hissed, having a pretty
good idea of what the other cider might be. Aphrodisiacs were fairly common
where he was from, and while this was only a Tale universe, Fell wouldn’t put
it past the most sordid of monsters in any universe to use them.
As if on cue, a beady eyed
monster sidled up to him as Muffet wandered off to get the drinks. “You know,
if you’re looking for something to help you move things along with your friend
over there, I wouldn’t recommend the ciders. You could do with something
stronger.”
Fell huffed his irritation,
barely sparing the creature a glance. “Do I know you?” he asked, tone bored.
The monster gave a soft snicker,
sliding onto the stool beside Fell. “It doesn’t matter whether or not you know
me. All I’m saying is that I can help you.”
“Hard pass,” Fell said, still not
looking at the monster. Where was Muffet with those drinks?
The monster clicked its tongue,
seeming undeterred. “Look, pal, I’m doing you a favour here. I can tell when a guy
is tryna get laid—and you’re clearly trying very hard.” Fell rolled his
eye-lights, deliberately keeping his gaze off the other monster as he thrummed
his fingers against the bar. “And your friend there—total tease, I would know.”
This caught Fell’s attention. He glanced up, briefly registering that the
monster was an Astigmatism (though a lot tamer looking than the ones he was
used to), and grit his teeth into a firm scowl.
“What exactly do you want?” Fell asked, his voice lowered into a growl.
For a brief moment, the Astigmatism hesitated, clearly not anticipating such
open aggression from another monster. But it quickly schooled its features,
relaxing back into an easy smile, dripping with seedy charisma.
“I wanna help you,” it said,
extracting a small bottle from its inventory. “See these? Top brand NTT
shit—but with a little kick I added myself.”
Fell’s gaze flickered over the
bottle, which contained dozens of small white pills. He glanced back at the
Astigmatism, involuntary magic flickering in his left eye socket. “You’re
telling me to drug someone?” An unexpected growl rumbled low in Fell’s chest.
He’d already had enough of this idiot. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
The Astigmatism didn’t seem
bothered by Fell’s clear disgust, continuing to grin as if it had just offered
him the cure for monster-pox. “Trust me, you could use this when it comes to
him,” it said, eyes flickering over Fell’s shoulder to Swap. Fell’s soul
bubbled with fury, his clawed fingers creating indents as they tightening
around the edge of the bar. “And you’ll like the effects. Napstaton is all
about that mutual agreement crap, but I always think it’s more fun when they
don’t suspect anything.” A wicked grin crossed the creature’s face, and a sick
pit formed in Fell’s chest. “All I had to do was add a bit of a narcotic—he’ll
be out for a couple of hours, so you’ll have plenty of time to—”
Fell stood abruptly, stool
scraping noisily against the wooden floor. He turned to look at the
Astigmatism, no longer bothering to hold back the crackle of his rage-fuelled
magic. “I suggest you stay away from him,” he hissed, struggling to keep his
voice level. A sudden hush had fallen over the patrons standing nearby, but
Fell couldn’t bring himself to care. All the furious intent he could muster
without triggering the violence of his LV was directed at the creature in front
of him, who was suddenly looking a lot less smug than it had moments ago. “Stay
away from both of us in fact. Or I may have to have a word with my friend,
Captain Alphys, about your activities here.” In truth, Fell had never met
Alphys, but he was sure he could get Blue to pull some strings for him.
“Hey, listen bud, I was just—”
“Or perhaps,” Fell said, his
voice adopting a dangerous edge, “I’ll just dust you.”
The word came out a little louder
than intended, and suddenly it seemed all eyes were on him. The bar felt almost
completely silent, but for a few shocked whispers and gasps, and Fell couldn’t
stop the rage crackling through his bones in the form of hot magic. The
Astigmatism shrunk away from him, and Fell wondered if it had finally gathered
enough sense to ‘check’ him. He couldn’t move. His body felt rigid, his LV no
longer bridled.
Then there was a gentle touch on
his arm, and Fell flinched, turning sharply to see Swap standing behind him.
“Hey,” Swap murmured, his gaze calm but insistent. “How about we get out of
here, alright? We can grab something to eat at home… Fell?”
Fell realised he’d gone stiff,
his eyes almost unseeing as he looked at Swap. Not trusting his ability to get
out any words that weren’t threatening, he nodded curtly, allowing Swap to
guide him through the crowd, who all seemed to have their gazes trained on
Fell. But Swap pointedly ignored them, heading straight for the door, only
releasing Fell’s arm when they were out in the snow.
Fell came to a stop, his hands
clenched at his sides, eyes fixed on the dim white snow on the ground at his
feet. Stars, he hadn’t realised how pent up he’d been. He could still feel his
magic flowing through him, charged with furious energy. He thought he’d been
getting better at controlling his LV—even with the anti-dusting laws, but now…
“Hey Fell, come on, let’s walk.”
Fell blinked, glancing up. He’d
expected to find Swap frowning—or even looking angry—but instead, his
expression was neutral… perhaps even pitying. Fell scowled. He didn’t want
pity. Still, he followed Swap nonetheless, swallowing. “Swap, I’m s—”
“Hey, shut up. We’re walking. Not
talking.”
Fell was surprised at the
firmness of Swap’s voice, though he still managed to keep his tone light. But
Fell remained quiet, and they walked wordlessly through the snow. It was only
after they passed the busier area of the town, that Fell noticed they were
walking in the wrong direction. “Wait… where are we going? Your house it the
other way.”
“Hey, what did I say about
talking, brat? Geez, do you need me to staple it to your skull, bonehead?” Fell
snapped his mouth shut, too stunned to do anything but blink as Swap regarded
him with a faint hint of amusement beneath the seriousness of his tone. He
flinched slightly as Swap slung an arm over his shoulders, guiding him toward
Snowdin Forest. “Now, we’re going to take a nice long walk, and keep our mouths
shut, ‘kay?”
Fell was tempted to make a snarky
remark about enjoying Swap’s company a lot more when his mouth was shut, but he
figured that would earn him little beyond more chastising, so he remained
silent. As they neared the dark shadows of the forest trees, Fell found his
senses buzzing with anticipation. He couldn’t help but glance around instinctively,
magic flowing readily through him.
He knew he was just being
paranoid—getting attacked in a Tale universe would be like going a week without
making at least one death threat in a Fell universe—but still, keeping rigidly
alert brought him comfort. Thankfully, Swap either didn’t notice, or was
tactful enough not to comment on it. His arm was still hanging over Fell’s
shoulders, and Fell couldn’t deny that the feeling of it eased some of the
tension within him. Still, he sort of wished Swap would stop; their proximity
was giving rise to some feelings he would rather not admit to—and not all of
them involved arousal.
As Fell’s eye-lights adjusted to
the darkness of the forest, he found himself beginning to appreciate the more
aesthetic side to Underswap. Unlike his own universe, the air here felt a lot
cleaner, and the trees seemed greener, more full of life. Even the snow beneath
his feet felt softer, and Fell slowly found himself relaxing as he breathed in
the cool night air. He shivered slightly as a chilly breeze picked up, and was
reminded of the absence of his scarf. He glanced up, eyes settling on the red
cloth still wrapped around Swap’s neck, and suddenly, he couldn’t bring himself
to care about the cold. He would never admit to it, but Fell found himself
leaning slightly into Swap’s half-embrace, a wave of calm passing over his
soul.
But all too soon it seemed, Swap
withdrew from him, and pulled the coin back out of his pocket. He glanced at
Fell with a small smile. “Wanna keep playing?” he asked, twiddling it between
his fingers.
Fell raised his brow bone. “Does
this mean you’re giving me permission to speak again, asshole?”
Swap gave a small huff of
laughter, and shrugged. “Only if you promise to say intelligent things.”
“I have to say intelligent
things. No one else present is capable.”
This time, Swap’s laughter was
more genuine, and Fell couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto his
features. He glanced away, trying to hide the pale blush that coloured his
cheek bones. “Right, heads or tails?” Swap asked, flipping the coin into the
air as they walked.”
“Heads,” Fell said, glancing up.
Swap grinned as he revealed the
result. “Tails.”
“Ugh. That’s four in a row now!
I’m convinced you’re still rigging this somehow.”
Swap shrugged, amusement playing
on his features. “Well, technically you didn’t even complete the last dare, so
consider this my compensation.” Fell turned away, grimacing at the memory. Swap
seemed to sense his discomfort, because he quickly continued. “I dare you to…
say something nice about me.”
Fell scoffed, taken aback.
“You’re kidding right? These dares are supposed to be challenging—not
impossible!”
“And it can’t have anything to do
with the fact that I’m good in bed, or that I’m a Papyrus.”
Fell tutted, mumbling something
derisive about Swap’s talents in bed, before sighing. “Right. Um…” he glanced
over Swap, racking his mind for a suitable answer. “You have excellent taste in
partners.”
Swap rolled his eye-lights. “Come
on, Fell. I have plenty of redeeming qualities to pick from.”
Fell scowled at the ground as he
walked, and found himself fidgeting with the pockets of his pants, suddenly
feeling very put on the spot. “You’re…” Fell trailed off. There were several
things on his mind—none of which he wanted to speak out loud or admit to. They
all felt a little too much like confessions, and Fell decided he’d very much
prefer to ignore them. “You’re not… boring,” he said at last.
Swap scoffed, glancing at him
dubiously. “Not boring. Wow, thanks Fell. That honestly the best you can do?”
“Well, what do you want? An
in-depth explanation? A bloody essay?” Fell rolled his eye-lights, though he
couldn’t hide the flush rising to his cheek bones.
“Well, I have to admit, it’s not
the most flattering thing anyone has ever said to me.”
Fell grit his teeth, sighing.
“All—all I mean is, you’re… interesting to be around—you… you’re attractive
and… and not just because you’re a Papyrus. I—I mean you’re… you’re amusing at times
I guess, and I don’t feel uncomfortable around you, I… I feel like I can tell
you things I wouldn’t tell other people. And you—you smell nice, you have a
nice laugh, I like your smile, and—d-damn it, just flip the fucking coin again,
Swap.” Fell broke off, realising too late that he’d said far more than he’d
intended to. He didn’t dare look up at Swap, afraid of what the other
skeleton’s expression might convey. His blush was heavy now, and he could feel
his soul hammering against his ribcage, as if it were ready to break free.
A charged silence rang between
them, and Fell felt as if he might lose his mind, until Swap quietly said,
“Heads or tails?”
“Tails,” Fell murmured, not
glancing away from his feet.
“Tails it is,” Swap said. “Well
done, brat, you finally won one.”
“Hm.” Fell grunted wordlessly,
not as excited by the victory as he might have been earlier. “I dare you to…
give my scarf back.” The last dare had thrown him slightly off kilter, and part
of him wanted to get revenge on Swap. (The other part, which he was refusing to
acknowledge, was just struggling not to think unsavoury thoughts every time he
saw the scarf on Swap).
“Can’t rescind previous dares,
Fell,” Swap said, a hint of amusement in his tone. Fell found he was actually
grateful that Swap had managed to keep the conversation light. He was still
feeling the weight of his own words, and he wished to the stars he could take
them back. Still, he felt irritated at Swap for blocking his dare on a
technicality.
“Ugh, fine,” he grumbled, kicking
at a lump of snow as they walked. “Then I dare you to tell me why you even
wanted to wear it in the first place.”
Fell finally glanced up, and was
surprised to find Swap blushing, the golden tint contrasting prettily against
the pale background of the snowy forest. “I, um…” Swap delicately touched the
material at his neck, not meeting Fell’s gaze, though there was a faint hint of
a smile on his face. “I just wanted to know what it would feel like to… wear
your clothes, I guess.”
Fell almost gaped, bewildered by
Swap’s answer. The heat on his cheek bones almost quashed the chill of the
night air entirely, and he felt unwelcome magic flooding into his mouth and
through his bones. Swallowing heavily, he looked away, not trusting his
impulses any longer while Swap had his hands threaded in Fell’s scarf like
that. “And I wanted you to be cold—to piss you off,” Swap said quickly, though
his voice seemed to quaver uncertainly. Fell merely nodded, unsure whether he’d
be able to get any coherent words out at this point. “Well, uh, here we are,”
Swap said, and Fell glanced up to see that they had arrived at a door, a
familiar emblem across the purple wood.
He frowned, confused. “You
brought us to… a door? Why? What’s on the other side?”
Swap shrugged, leaning against it
before slumping down to sit in the snow. “No idea, but it’s pretty good for
practicing knock-knock jokes, heh.”
Fell blinked for a moment, brow
bone raised, then shook his head, sitting beside Swap. The cold snow seemed to
seep into his bones, and he shivered slightly, wrapping his arms around
himself. Swap glanced up, eyes wandering over Fell for a moment, before he
said, “Hey, uh… you can have your scarf back, if you want. It’s just a stupid
dare.”
Fell regarded Swap, his eyes
trailing to the scarf, which Swap’s hand was still wrapped in. After barely a
moment’s consideration, he shook his head, staring at the snow. “No. It’s fine,
keep it.” Fell really hoped that Swap didn’t detect the unspoken implication
that Fell actually liked the way he
looked wearing the scarf. He cleared his throat, fingers tracing idle patterns
in the snow. “So, uh, we still playing?”
Swap, whose gaze had been fixed
on Fell, almost as if in thought, quickly glanced away, nodding. Fell called
heads as he flipped the coin, and Swap offered him a small smile as it landed.
“Heads. Looks like you’re making a comeback.”
“Or maybe you’re giving me a few
free wins to throw me off your trail,” Fell said, giving Swap a skeptical look.
Swap only grinned, and Fell looked away with a frown. He noticed that it had
started to snow, small flakes landing on his skull and arms, chilling his
bones. Eventually, he said, “Do you and your brother ever… fight?” He couldn’t
deny that Swap’s question from earlier about his own brother was still battling
inside his mind. He knew he and Red didn’t have a perfect relationship, but he liked
to think that (at least to some extent) they were still functional. It had
become increasingly difficult to justify the way he and his brother treated
each other when they’d stumbled across the Tale universes, their counterparts
seeming to have such perfect, happy lives.
Swap was quiet for a moment, his
skull tilted back against the door, gaze wandering over the gentle flakes
falling from the cavern’s ceiling. “Sometimes, I suppose. Over silly things.”
Fell’s soul clenched. Much as
he’d expected. He and Red fought—a lot. And it wasn’t always over trivial
matters like socks on the living room floor. Sometimes it was about serious
things—life or death matters, or fundamental issues of morality. He suddenly
noticed he’d gone stiff, his gloved hands clenched around fistfuls of snow. He
closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath of cold air.
“But Blue and I… we’re not the
same as you and Red,” Swap said quietly, and Fell glanced up, frowning.
“What do you mean? We’re
basically the same people.”
Swap gave a humourless chuckle,
shaking his head. “No, we’re really not. There’s no denying you and Red have it
a lot tougher than we do. I mean, the fact that we even find things to fight
about in this… ‘perfect’ world kind
of says something about us, doesn’t it?”
Fell’s brow bone furrowed, and he
found himself staring at the ground again. “But that’s just… sibling stuff. You
can’t blame yourself for getting on each other’s nerves.” Swap looked up at
Fell with a smirk, brow bone raised. Fell scowled, giving a dismissive wave of
his hand. “Ugh. Whatever. At least you aren’t—literally—at each other’s
throats. Red and I—”
“Live in Underfell,” Swap
interjected. “You can’t hold yourself to the same standards as a bunch a’ Tale
verse softies. I can’t imagine we’d have turned out the same if we’d grown up
there.” Swap was silent for a moment, sighing deeply as his hands fiddled in
his pockets. Fell could hear the click of his lighter, and suddenly, a small
part of him felt a little guilty for banning his vice for the evening. “You
know,” Swap said at last, “I used to use your treatment of your brother as an
excuse to hate you. I blamed you for how broken Red seemed.”
Fell swallowed, staring straight
ahead into the falling snow as a guilty pit formed in his soul. “But… that’s
not true,” Swap continued. “Red isn’t as beaten down as he might seem, and I
think… I think that’s because you. You—you keep him sane, for the most part.
There’s no denying you do have a tendency to drive certain people a little
crazy.” Swap shot Fell an accusatory look, the faint glimmer of a smile visible
on his features.
Fell huffed, looking away, arms
folded across his chest. “I thought you didn’t like serious conversations.”
“Huh. Yeah, you’re right, this is
getting too deep—let’s flip the coin again.”
Fell nodded, though his mind was
only half-present, still trying to shake off thoughts of his brother. He hated
giving more than just his passing attention to such topics, especially ones
involving Red. It made him feel guilty. Ashamed, even. For so long, he’d
justified his harsh treatment of his brother by telling himself it was for
Red’s own good—to help him survive. But sometimes he wondered if maybe he took
things too far—if maybe what Red actually needed was to come home to a brother
who loved him and took care of him without being so callous. And considering how
much time he spent with Blue—along with the other Tale verse monsters—Fell
couldn’t help but wonder if Red had abandoned him completely in favour of
people who treated him the way he deserved to be treated.
Fell flinched at the touch of cool
fingers on his arm, looking up to find Swap gazing at him with sympathy
swimming in his eye-lights. The typical amusement was absent from his features,
and Fell found himself swallowing down more guilt at the prospect of being
responsible for that. “Hey, I’m sorry I brought up your brother,” Swap said,
quietly, fingers stroking subconsciously over Fell’s arm. “I know it’s a touchy
subject for you. I shouldn’t have—”
“It’s fine,” Fell said, stiffly.
His whole body felt tense, despite the gentle ministrations of Swap’s hand on
his arm. “I—I shouldn’t ignore it. The way I treat him. I know I’ve failed him.
In so many ways—I…”
Swap was shaking his head,
sadness in his eyes. “That’s not true, Fell, and you know it. I don’t think Red
would have made it this long without you—you both need each other. And…” Swap
took a deep breath. “No one’s perfect. I know that… that LV can be hard to keep
in check.”
A bitter taste filled Fell’s
mouth, and he glared at the ground, raking his fingers through the cold snow.
“I don’t want to talk about what happened tonight,” he said, thickly.
Swap’s touch on his arm tightened
briefly, and Fell had to grit his teeth to stop his mouth from filling with warm
magic. “You don’t have to.”
Silence fell between them for a
few minutes, and Swap’s hand didn’t leave Fell’s arm. In fact, he slowly began
to slump against the door, a clear sign of sleepiness settling in. Fell had to
stop himself from flinching when he felt Swap shuffling closer, his head
dropping to rest on Fell’s shoulder. For a few jarring moments, Fell’s body
went rigid, his breath seeming stuck in his chest. But then, as the soft rise
and fall of Swap’s chest slowly deepened, he couldn’t help but feel… safe. At
ease. His mind drifted away from his brother, and the other troubling thoughts
that had been plaguing him recently, instead settling on nothing but the
feeling of Swap against him. The warmth of his bones contrasting to the biting
chill of the snow; the faint sweet smell of him; the heady feeling that
accompanied his proximity.
Just when Fell thought he’d
fallen asleep, Swap murmured softly, “Heads or tails?”
“Tails,” Fell said quietly,
letting his eye sockets drift closed.
He barely registered the sound of
the coin flipping into the air, until Swap whispered, “It’s heads.” Fell hummed
his acknowledgement, but in truth, his consciousness was slowly fading. At
least, it was, until Swap said, “Have you ever been in love?”
Fell was snapped back into awareness,
immediately tensing. Swap’s gentle caressing of his arm halted, and Fell could
feel his eyes on him. He swallowed, trying to alleviate some of the tension by
running his hands through the snow. “N-no. I haven’t.” It seemed a simple
answer, but a voice in the back of Fell’s mind was telling him it wasn’t the
truth. Desperate to shift the conversation away from himself, he asked, “Have
you?”
Swap hummed softly, resting his
head on Fell’s shoulder once again. “Just once,” he murmured. Fell’s mind was
spinning, trying to make sense of the situation. Several conflicting emotions
were churning in his soul, making him feel slightly dizzy. His bones were
uncomfortably hot, and he felt unsettled and fidgety.
Unable to handle it any longer,
he turned, pushing Swap away slightly. “Why—why are you asking me all these
questions?” he asked, letting some of his frustration seep into his tone. Swap
blinked at him for a moment, appearing taken aback. “Why did you want to play
this stupid game anyway?” Fell could hear how unreasonable he sounded, but he
felt so off-balance, his tone of voice was the least of his worries. Somehow,
in this past hour or so, Swap had managed to get into his head, prying his most
intimate and personal thoughts out of him. And he couldn’t decide whether it
made him angry, relieved, betrayed—or all those things at once.
Swap was looking uncertain, his
brow bone creased slightly. “I…” He glanced down at his hand, which was still
resting on Fell’s arm. With what appeared to be slight reluctance, he drew
away, swallowing as he fixed his gaze on the ground instead of Fell’s face.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—I just…” Swap trailed off, going silent. He looked
conflicted, as if he wasn’t sure whether to continue, or let his unspoken words
hang in the air, which suddenly felt rife with tension.
Fell found himself missing the
soft touch of Swap’s fingers on his arm, and involuntarily, he reached out,
fingers brushing the edge of Swap’s jaw. The bone felt warm in comparison to
the snow on Fell’s fingertips, and he allowed his fingers to trail over Swap’s
face for a moment. Swap glanced at him, something burning within the deep gold
of his eyes as his gaze landed on Fell’s face. Fell suddenly realised how close
they were, their faces inches from each other. He could feel Swap’s gentle
breaths, and noted the way his eyes dropped to his mouth for a second.
It was as if something had
sparked within him. No longer able to control the urge, Fell leaned forward,
cupping Swap’s face and kissing him softly.
It was nothing like any of the
previous kisses they’d shared. It was gentle at first, almost hesitant, nothing
but the careful press of teeth. But as soon as Swap opened his mouth, granting
Fell access, he found his mind abandoning all rational thought. He deepened the
kiss, his tongue delving into Swap’s mouth, eager to taste every inch of him.
He soon met Swap’s own magic, the sweetness of it filling his mouth. He hummed
against Swap, pressing his body forward, so that their chests were flush
against each other, the warm glow of Swap’s soul almost tangible through their
clothing.
But there was something deeper to
the kiss. Something beyond the physicality of it. Normally when they kissed, it
was nothing more than a pretence to sex. Just a means to an end. A necessary
step to the ultimate end goal. But this time, sex was the last thing on Fell’s
mind. All he wanted was to feel Swap; to achieve that closeness—that warmth
that seemed to alleviate every tension in his body, to put his mind completely
at ease. Every other thought seemed wiped from his mind. The cold snowflakes
landing on his bones, the gentle breeze rustling through the trees—they were
simply background noise, secondary to the incredible feeling of Swap’s magic,
humming against his. It wasn’t enough—but at the same time, it was all too
much.
Fell wasn’t sure whether to feel
grateful or disappointed when Swap slowly pulled away, breaking the kiss. His
eyes didn’t leave Fell’s face for a moment, and his cheek bones were flushed a
deep gold. His gaze darted to the ground, a small smile twisting at the corner
of his mouth. “Rule number twelve – no sex in public.”
Fell nodded, though he found it
difficult to return Swap’s smile. “Right.” They sat in silence for a moment,
neither seeming able to find any words to break the tension. Fell dug his fingers
into the soft snow, his soul seeming to thump erratically in his chest, as if
Swap was still pressed against him. He could still taste the remnants of Swap’s
magic in his mouth, and he swallowed in an attempt to extinguish it.
This time, Fell didn’t flinch or
tense when Swap leaned his head against him. On the contrary, his soul flipped
in his chest, and his entire body seemed to sag with contentment, his own breaths
deepening along with Swap’s as he relaxed. Even as his eyes drifted closed,
drowsiness seeming to overcome the more logical part of his mind which was
screaming that this was taking things too far; that he was breaking some sort
of rule; that he was giving in to his weaknesses.
Fell didn’t care. “Swap?” he
murmured, the swirling wind almost drowning out his voice. Swap hummed quietly
against his shoulder, already half asleep. “Th-thank you,” Fell whispered,
pressing his teeth to the top of Swap’s skull. Swap buried his head deeper into
the crook of Fell’s neck, and Fell’s soul swelled with warmth. For the first
time in so long, he didn’t feel alone.
Dragon Blog 