Work Text:
It really was a beautiful sunny spring day. The flowers were blooming, birds were singing, the breeze was just the right cool to balance out the warmth of the sun. All and all it was shaping up to be an awesome day, but you probably weren't going to see much of it after you stepped outside your door, boyfriend in tow.
“GREAT! WE'RE GOING TO A TATTOO PARLOR TODAY!.. WHY ARE WE GOING TO A TATTOO PARLOR TODAY?” Papyrus asks you after making his declaration, hopping into the car with you on the passenger's side. You sucked the saliva through your teeth and clicked your tongue in time with checking all the mirrors, making sure the neighborhood kids weren't around to dart behind you unexpectedly before pulling out.
“I'm getting a new tat, I thought you'd might like to see the process?” You smiled warmly at your skeleton boyfriend. Despite looking like he'd leapt out of a metal music video, given that he was literally all bones, he was really the most lively cheerful person you knew. Sure enough, after you asked him, he lit up as bright as star shining even in daylight. Your first impression when you'd first met quickly changed from 'radical' to 'radical dork', and it wasn't long before you realized how much you adored him.
“WHY YES! I MUST ADMIT I'M CURIOUS ABOUT HOW YOU GET THIS 'INK'.” Papyrus chattered excitedly. “AND HOW MANY BALLPOINT PENS IT MUST TAKE BEFORE IT FINALLY SEEPS INTO YOUR SKIN!”
“What?! No!!” You nearly caused a traffic accident right there at the unexpected statement, headbutting the edge of your wheel and wheezing with laughter. You considered trying to explain to him that there were needles made for injecting pigment into your skin, but you kinda sucked at explanations. “Just, hang on a sec while we get there.”
Your favorite tattoo place wasn't too far off, fortunately. You had your reservations at first, but when you'd checked the place out, they used sterile cleaning pads and regular green cleaning soap on the tattoo. Nothing like the paper towels your first shop used, and after seeing their needles go into miniature autoclaves and looking at their art, you decided to try getting a tattoo there. Ever since they put the purple butterfly on your shoulder from your first visit, you'd been hooked. Today was something a little more elaborate than last, and might hurt a little bit. Pulling into the parking late, you were out the door as soon as you'd parked, bouncing in place a little bit before walking through the door.
“Hey! This is the day, right?” The tattoo artist at the desk greeted. “Got your juicebox and comfort buddy?”
“Yes and yes! Here's my Misfits lunchbox, and this is my boyfriend, Papyrus. Papyrus, this is Debbie. She's my go-to for all of my inking needs, and she's one of the best artists and mother hens I've ever had.” The two shook hands automatically, the older woman impressively composed for meeting a monster with absolutely no skin. You headed into the back where you could sit on the tattoo parlor chair.
“Before we get started, let me see how well you kept the last one I gave you.” She snapped her fingers and with an eye roll you rolled up your jeans to show the morning glory vine wrapped around your ankle and creeping all the way up your calf to bloom next to your kneecap. She examined her handy work, mostly well kept, but pausing at the faded vine curled around your ankle. “Pretty good. If you want this part on the ankle filled in again, just let me know.”
She brought the supplies out and got the tattoo gun out. Alarmed, Papyrus moved in front of you. “W-WAIT, WHY IS SOMETHING SO DANGEROUS IN HERE? IF BATTLE IS PART OF TATTOOING, I SHOULD LET YOU KNOW THAT PUZZLES WOULD MAKE A MUCH BETTER ALTERNATIVE TO THE VIOLENCE-”
“PAPYRUS, NO!” You shouted, seeing him forming a bone attack automatically and pulled him back. “That's how they get the ink in my skin! Just sit and watch, you'll see how it works, okay?”
“WAIT, NEEDLES ARE HOW YOU GET INK IN YOUR SKIN?!” Papyrus gawked, his eyes comically bulging out at the notion. Now you were starting to think that yes, even your shoddy explanation would've been better than leaving him in the dark. Despite your apprehension with the situation, Debbie pointed at the chair with poorly concealed amusement.
“I see I have a lot to do today. Be a doll, and hold the lunchbox will you? The babe here's probably gonna call for a break at some point today, especially for this one.” Debbie pulled on gloves, broke open a sterile set of needles, and fitted the rotor with them. You pulled off your shirt, no bra on, and laid stomach first on the table. You heard the tattoo machine whir to life, and with your stomach doing excited flip flops, subjected yourself to the muted buzzing and slow steady scrapes of the needles working at the skin over your spine. In the mean time, Debbie began to explain what she was doing, Papyrus likely listening raptly.
“So, this is the needle set for line art, it is a set of five needles that enters through the dermis, or the layer of skin immediately under the epidermis which is the skin that you touch...” The swipe of cloth over your skin, then the pain returned in dull pulses. “It leaves ink there, and as I go over her skin like this...”
The day went by like that, slowly, pain increasing to the point where you had to take a break as Debbie had mentioned.” Papyrus gave you the sandwich you packed in the box, and then handed you the room temperature water bottle that you took along for the trip.
Once the buzz of the needles punching through your skin resumed, it was a while before Papyrus observed, “HEY IS THAT..?”
“You tell me, sweetheart.” Debbie said proudly, and you fought the urge to move and take in the expression on Papyrus's face. “Ah, don't touch.”
“YOU'RE DRAWING HER SPINE...” You heard him say. “HER SPINE IS SHOWING ON HER SKIN NOW!”
“Do you like it?” You asked, a little worried as you can't see his expression. He moved into your line of sight almost as if reading your mind, and pressed his face to yours.
“IT'S SO COOL!” He told you, petting your cheeks like you'd do to the neighbor's cat sometimes. “HOW LONG WERE YOU PLANNING THIS YOU SLIPPERY SNAIL?!”
“A couple of months ago.” You explained, wincing at a particularly sharp jolt of pain emanating from the center of your back. “We've been going out for awhile, so I wanted a tattoo that would remind me of you. I had to wait for my vacation from work before I did this though.”
“Yes, aftercare is a must and you have to be careful with this for at least a week. It's why the morning glory vine has some rough spots now.” Debbie explained. “It'll be ideal to have Papyrus help you clean it, since he'll be able to see what he's doing.”
“YES, I'LL BE GLAD TO HELP! WHAT DO I DO?”
~
After spending most of the day inside the tattoo parlor, nearly calling it off a couple of times as the pain waxed and waned throughout the needles' path, your tattoo was bandaged and Papyrus took over the job of driving you both home as you laid on your stomach in the back, feeling yourself slowly relaxing into human goo. For just lying on a chair all day, you were pretty tired.
For his part, Papyrus came out of the shop wanting a tattoo of his own much to yours and Debbie's amusement. Not that anyone knew how one would go about that- even most monsters had the advantage of skin, which was something that Papyrus lacked and carving into bone seemed much more damaging. Debbie sent him off with a sheet of kid's temporary tattoos though, which you could only guess was for the kids that came into the shop.
“HOW'RE YOU FEELING?” Papyrus checked on you, his eyelights flickering to the rearview mirror before fixing on the road again. Unlike when you started out, it was early night now. The amount of detail that Debbie had gone into to make your tattoo took nearly the whole day.
“Mm, back's sore. But happy.” You said sleepily. He pulled into your driveway, and you crawled out of the backseat. Once you'd gotten inside, you both started working on dinner. And by working on dinner, you meant ordering pizza, and throwing a bag of popcorn in the microwave. You were tired of leaning on your stomach, but avoided leaning too heavily on your back as you sat up and watched one of the 2Fast2Furious flicks. Soon enough, pizza and soda joined the party as you'd staggered to your feet to pay the pizza guy and then returned to your pillow and blanket throne on the floor. It was a pretty terrible movie, but Papyrus was riveted and at least you got a laugh at a few of the scenes between bites of pepperoni pizza.
“HOW LONG DOES THE WRAP STAY ON?” Papyrus asked once the movie credits began rolling.
You checked your cheapo plastic wristwatch. “Another couple of hours would be ideal. Want to play some Mario Party before I have to take the bandage off?”
“ONLY IF IT'S ONE OF THE EARLIER GAMES WHERE OUR CHARACTERS CAN TRAVEL SEPARATELY! MOVING IN A CAR WITH YOU IS IMPOSSIBLE!” He conditioned, finishing on a note of incredulity that you normally hear when he's gossiping about Sans's shenanigans. “YOU ALWAYS MANAGE TO JAPE ME?!”
You and him both had your strengths on different parts in the game series. You won button mashers handily, but the matching mini games and rhythm based games was Papyrus's territory. Everything between that was a matter of luck, and as the 20 turns passed, you were both neck in neck from sabotaging each other only for the NPC placed on 'Hard' difficulty to overtake you both in the bonus star round.
“Nooo!” You groaned. “I told you we should've worked together!”
“YOU DID.” He acknowledged. “AND THEN YOU GOT THE GHOST TO STEAL COINS FROM ME.”
“I sort of regret that? Mostly?” You joked sheepishly, and stretched as you got to your feet. The living room was a mess of blankets, empty popcorn bags, and a somewhat greasy pizza box. Eh, you'll take care of it another time. Now, was time to take care of the tattoo.
You entered the bathroom, stripping down, and then reaching for a bottle of nonscented antibacterial soap. “Hey, can you help me get this film off?”
Delicately, he dug the tips of his phalanges in, working it off slowly. You could hear the peeling as the tugging migrated down the skin of your back. He paused to get the toilet cover down and utilize it as a proper chair midway, but finally, the plastic wrap was set aside. “OKAY NOW THAT YOU'RE NOT 'FRESH WRAPPED' ANYMORE, NYEH HEH HEH, WHAT SHOULD I DO?”
“Use the antibacterial soap right here, and don't scrub, scratch, or otherwise mess with the tattoo. Just rub it in so that any fluid that might've been underneath the tape can wash off and be sure that you're directing the stream of the shower head right here above the tattoo.” You instructed, and carefully moved into the tub from your perch on the rim, and brushed your hair out of the way. “Oh, and make sure it's cool! Warm water might make the ink run from my skin, and honestly heat kinda hurts on new tattoos.”
The shower water that hit your neck was ice cold.
“AHHH PAPYRUS TOO COLD!” You screeched and jumped in place, gasping and laughing before the shivering set in.
“NYEH!!! YOU SAID NO HOT WATER!” Papyrus struggled to get the temperature adjusted quickly, and eventually your shivering ceased as he began to massage the soap into your spine. By the time he reached your lumbar, you'd started relaxing into it again.
“Is the bandage muck gone?” You asked.
“YEP!” You just about got out of the tub when you felt his tongue press against the top vertebrae on your tattoo.
“HEY!” You yelped. “No licking until that's healed up!”
Papyrus headbutted the back of your head gently, hugging around your ribs without pressing too closely into your back. “SORRY!”
“Welp, it's not like magic carries germs.” You couldn't be too angry, he normally didn't summon ectoparts at all, so you were more taken by surprise than anything. Did it really mean that much to him?
“NYEH HEH HEH, NO WORRIES! I'LL WASH OFF MY MAGICAL SLOBBER!” Papyrus declared, and you giggled before you got hit with another spray of water.
“Thanks, now just hand me that towel, and I'll pat myself dry.” Papyrus left for your pajamas, and you patted the towel into your back, the fibers scratchy against your raw skin, before drying the rest of yourself off.
“ALLOW ME TO HELP YOU GET YOUR CLOTHES BACK ON.” Papyrus graciously pulled your nightshirt over your head, catching your elbows in a hopeless tangle that forced him to pull it up again before successfully putting the shirt on, and then helped you step into your underwear.
“You know this process is a lot easier with one person, right?” You teased him.
“YOU JUST HAD NEEDLES PUNCTURE YOUR SKIN OVER A MILLION TIMES ALL ACROSS THE SKIN OVER YOUR SPINE. EXCUSE ME IF I WANTED TO SPOIL YOU.” Papyrus crossed his arms in his nearest approximation of a pout, his mouth still twitching up at the corners showing that he's more amused than anything.
“Mm well you've been super patient with the whole process, and also managed not to skewer my tattoo artist, so how about we see how well temporary tattoos stick to bone?” You suggested.
That was how at 1 AM in the morning, you were dampening tattoo sheets and placing it to his forehead, the back of his skull, his humerus, and even a couple around your morning glory tattoo and peeling them off so that it looked like you had starfish on you and a whole plethora of sea creatures on Papyrus's face. You made sure to take some selfies and send it to Undyne and Alphys, while Papyrus sent a picture of your tattoo to Sans before the two of you went to bed.
The couple ooh-ed and ahh-ed appropriately to the tattoo work; Alphys, admiring the spinal processes and shading, while Undyne was teasing Papyrus about looking like an aquarium menagerie. As usual Sans's returning text ended up being the most memorable-
SLIME PRODUCING BROTHER:
-bro, no one wants to see that but you.