Chapter Text
Fifteen boxes of whole wheat spaghetti and four extra large bottles of ketchup.
That was what Papyrus had ended up buying and, frankly, you were a bit concerned for his and his brother's health.
You were helping him carry one of the ketchup bottles as you followed a step behind him to, what you found out was, the skeleton brothers' shared house. He had deemed that you were very weak compared to him, and so that was all you were allowed to carry.
Your pride was a little hurt, but you didn't complain.
"So," you started, looking up at him, "why all the pasta?"
He looked at you with a befuddled expression. "Usually we get more! However, I am very eager to return home with you in tow, so this meager supply will have to suffice for the week!"
You were a bit really shocked to hear that this was actually not a lot of pasta for him, but wrote it off as something that must have been just another quirk of the tall skeleton's, and chuckled fondly. "You would really love it where I work, then. I make pasta and other Italian foods on a daily basis, practically."
The skeleton stopped in his tracks, turning around to look down at you in amazement. "HUMAN! You are a - a CHEF? AT A FINE ESTABLISHMENT?"
"Er -" You stopped too, looking down with a bashful expression. "At Olive Garden. Not exactly a fine establish-"
"WOWIE!" Papyrus exlaimed, a large smile growing on his face. "You shall color me impressed, human! That is remarkable that you work right in a garden!"
Not wanting to burst the tall skeleton's bubble, you didn't correct him with the fact that you mainly did prep work in a chain restaurant. "Thanks, Papyrus. Maybe I could teach you some recipes sometime?" Judging by his groceries you doubted they ate much else other than spaghetti and ketchup. Starting out with teaching him some other noodles would be a step in the right direction. And maybe with actual sauce.
He answered as he took long strides once more, you hurrying to keep up with him. "I WOULD LOVE TO HAVE SOME HELP IN THE KITCHEN, HUMAN!" he exclaimed, clearly excited by the idea. "My expertise is undoubtedly unmatched, but I would love to see how a real professional does it!"
Before you could reply, he stopped again, and you nearly ran into the back of his armor. Looking up at him, you saw him gesture towards a fairly large building, decorated on the outside with dozens of strands of Christmas lights (despite not even being close to the holiday).
"This is our house! Come on in," he exclaimed as he made one leap up the steps and opened the unlocked door, making a sweeping, inviting gesture with his hands.
"It's... really big," You stated dumbly as you made your way up the steps, surprised that the two monsters owned such a big house.
"Of course it is! We wanted one similar to our old house, and I would NOT settle for anything but the ABSOLUTE BEST!"
As you stepped through the door, you immediately spotted the kitchen ahead. Above that, the second floor could be seen, safety rails lining the whole floor. When you looked to the left, you saw their living room, with a suspicious lump of blankets on the couch.
"SANS! You lazybones, get up! We have a certain special guest!"
The lump of blankets stirred and shifted, a quiet groaning erupting from it. Then a moment later, a skull you recognized popped out from one end, eyes closed, with an also-familiar bag of peas perched carefully on top. "Pap, Undyne is always over here, she's not really a guest anym-" and that was when he groggily opened his eyes and saw you. "-ore..." he trailed off, eyes going wide as his gaze flickered between the two of you.
"Hey, sleepyhead," you greeted, laughing quietly. His reaction reminded you of earlier that day, when he had woke up on your couch. Confused and disoriented and sort of precious-looking. But at least now you could appreciate his sleep-addled self without fearing his imaginary wrath.
"Uh, hey." He quickly sat up (the peas delicately sitting on his head falling onto the couch), now wide awake it seemed, and he stared fixedly at Papyrus. "How...?" he asked, raising his eyebrow bone, inquisitive.
Papyrus was more than happy to tell the tale of your meeting. "We ran into eachother at the food store! From my DASHING GOOD LOOKS, the human could easily decipher us as brothers! So I, being the HUMBLE EX ROYAL GUARDSMAN that I am, brought them home!"
The poses he struck, you found out, looked no less regal even with all the grocery bags hanging from his arms.
Which reminded you that you were still carrying an industrial-sized bottle of ketchup, practically. "Uh, where do you guys want this...?" you asked, holding it up for emphasis.
Sans held out his arm before Papyrus could even start to reply, smiling and relaxed once more. "Give it here, pal. You can help Pap put the rest of the stuff away. I'll ketchup with you in the kitchen in a bit."
A groan came from Papyrus while he stomped into the kitchen and you complied, a tad confused, handing him the condiment. "But what are you...?"
Your unfinished question was answered as the pajama-clad skeleton in front of you opened the cap, removed the safety sealing, and then lifted the gigantic bottle to his teeth, drinking deeply from it all the while watching you intensely with lowered eye (bone?) lids.
You were horrified.
"I-"
"HUMAN! Were you not going to help me unload these parcels?"
Sans lowered the bottle, wiping some remaining ketchup away with his sleeve, looking completely unfazed. "He gets impatient. Ya better go."
"I-" you tried again, eyes still wide in horror. "... Yeah. Okay."
You could hear quiet laughter behind you as you made your way to the kitchen.
Walking into the kitchen, you saw Papyrus standing at the door of a pantry, placing the boxes of spaghetti meticulously on top of eachother. He didn't bother to look at you as he worked on the task. "Could you unload the salty tomato paste into the refrigerator, friend?"
You gave a small shudder at the mention. "Yeah. I can do that."
Still terrified of the scene you had just been a witness to, you opened the fridge. There was practically nothing to move around and you easily placed all of the ketchup in it.
"Sometimes I like it room temp, too."
You jumped as you heard San's voice directly behind you, and whipped around to see the skeleton, himself, sitting at the table, looking at you.
"Easy there. Don't jump out of your skin like I did."
A groan erupted once more from Papyrus, still in the pantry, as you protested. "You already made that joke!"
"And I'll make it again."
Before you could reply, Papyrus turned around, done rearranging the pasta into a nice tower on the pantry shelf. "Sans, I am going to make some lunch for us all, with the human's help, so please go and watch some TV. I do not need your punnery at this point in time!"
Sans remained unmoving and silent, and for a second you thought he had fallen asleep with his eyes open before he said, "Boy, Pap, is it warm in here at all? Because-"
"-Sans, we barely feel temperature-"
"- I can't seem to stand the heat. I better get outta here." He finished, a gigantic smirk plastered on his face. It took a beat before you started cracking up laughing, and Papyrus shooed you both out
"NO. GO. BOTH OF YOU OBSCENE PUNNERS. Human, I was going to have you assist me with the dish but I'm afraid that will have to wait for another time. Maybe when my brother can control himself."
"Hey, I can't help the fact that they're busting a gut over there - if you have it, flaunt it, eh, bucko?" He looked over to you, pride showing in his eye sockets as you continued laughing, tears springing to your eyes.
You could feel the hard glare Papyrus was attempting to direct at you both as an arm slunk around your shoulders, steering you back into the living room, undignified snorts coming from you in your giggle fit. You hated it but you couldn't stop the laughter from bubbling up.
"Easy there, bud. Sit down, now, c'mon, I'm not that humerus."
You sat down, and a sudden release of air (making another undignified noise) under you startled you, making your fit of laughter cease almost immediately. You were dead silent for a moment, processing your thoughts. "... Sans, was that seriously a-"
"Whoopie cushion? Yeah, I figured you needed some air. Ya know. After all those snorts and wheezes."
Wiping your eyes free of tears, you gave one last chuckle and took a deep breath, calming yourself.
"You're lucky you're not me, bud," he continued, his tone more serious, "you would've been going slack there." He leaned back into the couch, wrapping his blankets over himself, picking up the fallen pea bag to rest it back on his head.
"I honestly don't see how you do it," you replied after a moment, looking over at him.
He lazily gestured behind him. "The house is me-proof. Rails, carpet everywhere. A super cool bro to protect me. ... I got it all."
"Yeah, but I mean, like - it must really interfere with your life." You knew you were stating the obvious, but you yourself couldn't even imagine what it would be like - to have to worry constantly about your safety, no matter where you were.
A shrug was his response, his eyes on the TV. A show was on with the Underground's famous personality, the flamboyant robot known as Mettaton. You rarely watched television but didn't mind him. It surprised you when Sans finally said, quietly, "You get used to it."
You frowned, deep in thought as you stared at the television, not really watching it at all.
It wasn't much later after that, that Papyrus poked his head out from the kitchen, calling out, "LUNCH IS SERVED!"
As you were getting up, Sans looked up at you and another smirk could be seen slowly appearing.
"Hope your stomach is ready," was all he said.