Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 6, 7, 8

AO3 Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12388203/chapters/29169381

Title: “Late night confessions”

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!)

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“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.