Chapter Text
It wasn’t like he wanted to feel this way.
He just couldn’t help it.
Every day he tried just a little bit more to live, to smile like he means it, to pretend that everything was just…alright. And he thought he had been successful; everybody looked at him as the laid back, lazy skeleton that plagued his brother’s life with bad puns and drank ketchup like it was water.
But there was something ugly deep inside his soul; something that he couldn’t describe but felt oddly similar to a dark gaping void that was slowly but surely consuming him. He thought he could bear with it –he has put up with a lot of oddities before anyway- but he clearly underestimated it. This feeling just continued getting stronger, eating away at his will and he got lazier, to the point where he didn’t see the point in leaving his old and dipped naked mattress anymore.
If it wasn’t for Papyrus’s energetic knocking every morning, telling him that the “breakfast spaghetti” was ready, he probably wouldn’t get up. He probably would just lie there pathetically, his eyes two dark holes of emptiness, grinning his permanent grin to the ceiling. He would let this void consume him. It’s not like anybody would really grieve him.
But he knew that was not true and it was often at night that he shook those lies out of his mind and just thought about Papyrus and what they would be doing the next day.
Sans quickly reached the conclusion that not everything was so bad when his brother was there to brighten it up.
He found peace in that thought and held on to it for as long as he could. The void started getting smaller, weaker; its pull no longer suffocating and deafening in its silence. The light from Papyrus was enough to guide him through the darkness.
As so, it was difficult for him to realize how dependent he had become of his brother, in this way. How he started craving for his presence at random times of the day, becoming anxious when he was out of his sight, out of his vigilance.
Fortunately, Papyrus didn’t seem to notice this slight shift of behavior. In fact, his younger brother seemed to be satisfied with Sans’ newfound enthusiasm –well, as enthusiastic as Sans could be- and interest in whatever The Great Papyrus did.
It started becoming even more difficult when Sans started to notice every single little detail in Papyrus. The way he smiled, so pure and genuine, the way he carried himself: tall and proud but with a hint of playfulness that would always be there, how he hummed and put his hand on his hip, doing a little dance while he cooked his spaghetti…how his hands were warm, even without his gloves, how his gaze was always gentle… even how his nagging tone would always show the fondness in it. Sans started to notice everything.
And he was completely infatuated.
He could never tell Papyrus, however. It would be wrong, it would be selfish. He just couldn’t. The days passed by and the void started to regain its strength as Sans repressed every wanton thought, every impulse to just caress his brother’s face and pour out all his feelings. His hands would start to stray at night, leaving fiery trails on his otherwise chilled body, lifting up his shirt and burying down his shorts, hips undulating and jerking as he rode out his guilty pleasure. His imagination ran wild as he desperately tried to mentally replace his cold, lonely touch with the one he so hungered for.
“That’s it…you’re so amazing, Sans…” He would say.
He would always clamp his mouth shut harshly when a breathy moan of his brother’s name threatened to come out. He was so filthy, so disgusting…he didn’t deserve Papyrus, not even as a brother.
His self hatred reached its peak.
He could never be mad at Papyrus. The only one at fault was him. And as so, he could only wave Papyrus goodbye from their porch as he went to Undyne’s “Super Cool Pajama Party”, telling him to be careful and send the brash fish his regards. He told himself that Papyrus’ happiness would always come first than his own twisted need for his being. He would just have to get over it: soon Papyrus will want to be with his friends more –he always wanted to be popular after all. Maybe even find someone special…
That night, Sans locked his bedroom door and laid down on the mattress. He closed his eyes and took a deep shuddery breath before he allowed the first tear to shed.
The birds were singing and his eye sockets felt sticky as he slowly opened them. Papyrus was knocking on his door, as usual.
“SANS?? ARE YOU ALRIGHT??? WHY IS YOUR DOOR LOCKED????”
Sans’ eyes widened as he hurriedly got up, rubbing his eyes groggily.
come on Sans, play it cool…
“sorry bro, i was just… doing something.”
nice save…idiot.
There was a brief silence that only made Sans anxious. Papyrus cleared his throat.
“OH…HUM…ALRIGHT! I JUST CAME TO TELL YOU THAT BREAKFAST IS READY!
Sans sighed and his grin lifted up slightly. He went to the door and unlocked it, opening it to look up at Papyrus. He frowned slightly though when the expected cheerful expression was replaced with a subdued, slightly worried one as his brother’s gaze focused on him. Papyrus was nervously wringing his gloved hands and as so, Sans was startled awake when one of them made his way to gently hold his cheek, thumb carefully stroking the edge of his eye socket. Sans’ tiny pupils widened, becoming hazy. He had been craving for so long…
He didn’t know how he managed to keep his voice even.
“huh…what’s up, bro? somethin’ rattling your bones?”
Sans’ eyes widened and he took a step back as his brother took one forward. His smile looked different. Sad. Papyrus, whose gaze had shifted towards Sans’ more than usual messy appearance, looked him in the eyes once again and Sans was finding it hard to contain a shiver.
“I should be the one asking you that! …What’s wrong, Sans? Was it…Did you have another nightmare??”
Sans froze, the feeling of guilt starting to well up. His brother shouldn’t be worried, his brother shouldn’t notice. He had let his guard down and hearing the dramatic change in Papyrus’ voice as he took on this lower volume, sounding almost small…he couldn’t bear it.
He forced out a chuckle. It only made Papyrus’ eyes droop down a bit, the crinkles making his expression almost melancholic.
“Please, don’t pretend anymore…”
The chuckle was abruptly interrupted by an involuntary sob and Sans’ body trembled. What was he doing?! Papyrus’ expression started to become even more alarmed as violent sobs took over his older brother’s body, his hoodie jacket slipping down his shoulder a bit. Still, he tried to maintain the upward tilt to his grin, he still tried to contain the fat tears that only hours ago he had allowed himself to shed. He still tried.
“paps…what are you talkin’ about…i’m…i’m fine-oomf!”
His pathetic attempt at reassuring his brother was cut short by the sudden warmth of Papyrus’ body smothering him in an embrace. It was enough.
Sans hesitatingly returned the hug and gasped as Papyrus only tightened his hold. He felt himself being lifted off the floor, allowing for him to bury his face on the crook of his brother’s neck.
stars…this is heaven…i could stay like this forever…
He didn’t notice he was being carried until he was gently put down on the sofa in their living room. His brother caressed his skull and Sans couldn’t help himself anymore. Not after that. He leaned into the touch.
His self hatred was still very present as Papyrus’ worried expression didn’t change.
“You shouldn’t be on an empty stomach. I’ll get the spaghetti.”
Sans felt a slight panic as Papyrus left his sight but the sounds of shuffling in the kitchen calmed his pounding soul. He groaned and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and burying his face on his hands. He could feel his soul glowing in restlessness and it was obvious that Papyrus had felt it too.
Once again, his skull was caressed again, soothingly, and he looked up to find Papyrus holding out to him a fork and a bowl of his spaghetti, still steaming. He was smiling in earnest hope.
Sans accepted the bowl and fork and took a first bite. It tasted bland and slightly burnt but it had Papyrus’ charm and it was easy for Sans to eat it. Anything to take that expression out of his brother’s face. And it did for a bit, Papyrus looked slightly more relieved now as he crouched down to his eye level. He didn’t feel too hungry though and as much as he tried, he could only stomach a couple of forkfuls before he was looking down and holding the unfinished food back to his brother. For once, Papyrus took it wordlessly, setting it down on the coffee table nearby. Sans had managed to calm down a bit and wasn’t trembling anymore. He had his hands in his pockets and he was looking at anywhere but his brother.
“Sans. Please look at me.”
Sans cringed but obliged. He was feeling so exposed, sitting in front of his brother and an obvious blue glow visible through his shirt. After all this time of pretending, he couldn’t be more transparent. Now that he was more calm, now that he felt he had regained a little control over himself, he willed himself to smile at his younger brother.
“paps…i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to worry you or anything.”
Papyrus looked a little more relieved now that he was speaking and had calmed down. He slowly placed his hand on Sans’ knee and rubbed it soothingly, giving him a reassuring smile.
“Are you sure? If there is anything I can do to make you feel better, please say, dear brother.”
It was obvious that Papyrus probably thought it was just another nightmare that had caused that outburst. Sans felt a mixture of relief and disappointment. And oh, there was so much that he could do, so many things that Sans wanted to do and he hated how this made him lie to himself and to Papyrus. He started wondering just how much he could take of this façade. It was becoming clear now that Papyrus would start to suspect too, if he wasn’t already.
As such, Sans couldn’t help but smile a little more, his eyes half lidded.
“i’m alright, paps…you…y-you have no idea how much good you do to me already.”
It was his own fault for always wanting more anyway.
It seemed the right thing to say. Papyrus’ face lightened up and Sans found himself in his brother’s arms once again. He snuggled into the embrace, making sure that he would never be able to forget the wonderful warmth of it, the way Papyrus’ long arms squeezed him closer and the comforting weight of his chin on the top of his skull. Papyrus’ scent enveloped him: a sweet mixture of spices and Snowdin; it smelled like home.
Before he closed his eyes, he thought he had seen a faint orange glow beneath his brother’s battle body, enveloping his own soothingly as he was doing to Sans now.
It could only be wishful thinking, he knew. Still, for that brief moment, the void was gone.