Brother

Sans have a… weird life. And Papyrus too. This is what they shared between two in addition to housing. But if Sans was used to get out of the rain unscathed in any trouble, then Papyrus, as if he was walking not under ordinary rain, but under acid rain, burning not only himself, but also his insides. While Sans, like a skilled creator, had to sculpt this unlucky skeleton from scratch. Huh. like it’s so simple. Papyrus feels like he’s wrong about a lot of things. He makes mistakes about work, about himself… about his brother. The last one scares the most. Because with Sans, being wrong is catastrophically inappropriate. And Papyrus was afraid because, damn, he loved. Loved Sans. Loved his brother, he couldn’t just make a mistake, it could ruin everything. Destroy that little idyll between them. Expressing feelings has always been difficult for Papyrus. No, that’s probably not the case. This is the problem with expressing… truly important emotions. Seriously. It’s even sometimes funny for Sans to watch how his brother gets lost if you ask him “Hey, what’s up bro,” but things are actually really bad. And so, this almost six-and-a-half-foot idiot stands and averts his eyes, realizing that he doesn’t need to lie to his brother, but he also doesn’t want to critically tell the truth. But Sans knows. It’s not funny. Here it is now. Papyrus stands in the kitchen, all that remains of his typical work look are the red glowing irises of his eyes, which are the only source of light in the dark kitchen. Sans sees his brother rushing about somewhere there, in his thoughts. The older brother, on the contrary, has white eyes. Only a tall skeleton could see them like this, in this stupid world of “kill or be killed.” “Huh, calm down, bro,” Sans says, bowing his head and coming close to his brother, placing his hand on his cold cheekbone, “we can don’t talk about that” Sans is too understanding, too smart. Papyrus’s eyes turn to his brother and… his pupils turn white. The younger one noticed this trait in his brother as a child. And it… fascinated. This is most likely why Papyrus trustingly clings to his brother’s hand. Sans gives him a tired smile. But it’s not like that because of lack of sleep or anything like that… it’s just like that in itself. “It…still hard.” Papyrus suddenly starts whispering. Sans nods and thinks he understands. “I know you fighting with yourself when you communicate with Frisk, but… the laws of the dungeon… are not always true. This child must live, the main thing is not to forget about it.” Sans looks a little tired as he says this, as if he’s explaining it over and over again to an incomprehensible child. If all of Papyrus' problems were knitting “threads”, Sans would be wrapped in them up to his ear holes, trying to wrap more and more around his hands, freeing his brother from this. But now Sans was mistaken, Papyrus could say this with full confidence. …And he says it. But he speaks as he wants. Sans sees Papyrus’s slightly embarrassed smile and feels his brother’s hand on his cervical vertebrae. “I’m not fighting with myself next to Frisk,” Papyrus says as Sans feels those same aforementioned “threads” squeezing his body in their loops, “Next to you” Sans doesn’t feel the strength to push away his brother’s teeth, which are gently pressed against his teeth, he just exhales, almost forgetting to suck the air back into his non-existent lungs. Hand slips from his brother’s cheek. Sans feels that this kiss seems to be suffocating, not allowing him to escape, but it’s as if he’s not being held. The elder himself does not back down, he justifies it with shock… tries to justify it with shock. Wanting to run away when brother, too carried away, puts his hands on Sans’s sweater and slowly strokes his waist. But… Sans can’t. He…loves his brother…so why does Papyrus have to say these terrible words when he pulls away? “I…” the letters get stuck somewhere in the throat when Sans looks at the softened expression on his brother’s face, at the light blush on his cheeks. The elder feels as if he’s trapped, “I don’t love you. I’m sorry Pap… don’t like… it” And for some reason, for the first time, Sans doesn’t want to consider his brother’s feelings. He only wants to feel his pain, from these words, from what happened. For the first time, he wants to throw off all those “threads” that he had been wrapping around himself all those years, thinking about Papyrus’s problems. Drop everything and leave. And Sans won’t even be able to explain his action, it will happen simply… simply because. It seems… this time even Sans won’t be able to fix it.