Work Text:
"That's Sans." Papyrus lifts the photo off the wall and holds it out to you. Gently, you take the photo. There's a shorter Papyrus with another skeleton in a lab coat. The unknown skeleton (Sans apparently) has a wide smile and a tooth gap. "He fell down a few years ago."
"I'm so sorry," you say earnestly. For Papyrus to open up about this to you means a lot. You can see how important Sans was and still is to him. It's in the way this photo has a clean frame and the soft expression he wears.
"Thank you." Papyrus draws you into a warm side hug. The two of you bask in the moment, looking down at a relic of the past. When you separate, he has a wistful look on his skull, but he brightens up when you ask about his latest commission.
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"I used to train with Undyne back when I wanted to be in the royal guard." Papyrus toys with his paints, uncapping the ones he wants to use and setting up his palette. You sense his nostalgic mood and tucker in to hear more of his past. Papyrus could read a tax book, and you'd stay riveted for a good portion of it. It's not rare for him to talk like this during one of his personal projects. For commissions, he has laser focus. Another thing you love about your boyfriend.
Papyrus wets his brush, "Sans encouraged me, of course. We became sentries together, and I trained under Undyne. Later, I found out it wasn't really training, but it did teach me important lessons."
What looks like snow begins to take shape on the tall canvas. A dark sky stretches across the canvas, dotted with blobs of greens and blues you know will take shape later in the process.
"I learned friendship and that cooking is stress relief. I didn't learn proper oven settings, bah! who needs an uncharred kitchen anyway!"
His painting becomes more detailed but still has that loose quality you've come to associate with his personal work. It's a beautiful scene with a snowy forest under shiny gems, with a river running through it pleasantly. There's what looks like a snowman in the background.
You don't say anything when Papyrus adds a small figure in a blue coat to the painting. It's obvious who that's supposed to be. You've seen all the photos by now. It sucks that you can't talk to Sans. If you could, you'd thank him for trying his best. Papyrus grew up to be a wonderful skeleton.
You settle for talking to his picture when you think Papyrus is out of earshot. He isn't, but by the time you're done, he walks into the room like he heard nothing. The only tell the wistful smile he wears when he reaches down to nuzzle you.