Chapter Text
You think it’s the jingle of the keys that alerts him that you’re home. It’s always when you start sifting through your pockets for your them that you hear Papyrus' loud footfalls rushing towards the door. You don’t bother taking them out once you find them. The door swings open and before you can say anything a large pair of skeleton hands have already grabbed you by the ribs and yanked you inside.
You giggle as Papyrus shifts to hold you in a dance lift, snuggling his face into your collar bone. You don’t know why he started doing this, going from a few nuzzles whenever you got home to a quick hug turned to a tight squeeze with him squishing his face into your cheek with an exaggerated “MWAH” to this. It’s sweet though, and you can’t help but enjoy it whenever Papyrus shows off how strong he is, picking you up like you weigh nothing at all.
“How was your day so far hun?”
“ALL THE BETTER NOW THAT YOU’RE HOME, STAR.” He says as he sets you down. “WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG ANYWAYS? YOU’RE TEN MINUTES LATER THAN USUAL.”
You check the clock on the wall of the living room, it’s seven-thirty in the morning.
“Oh, the bus was super late. Almost thought I missed it until it finally wheeled up.” You say as you begin to untie your shoes. It’s quite a moment, and while you aren’t sure what you expect him to say, something feels almost tilted in the stretched couple beats of silence.
“I THINK YOU SHOULD QUIT YOUR JOB.” It’s sudden, enough to make you pause in the process of slipping your shoes off.
“Where is this coming from?” you asked, confused.
“NIGHT SHIFT IS HORRIBLE FOR YOU! MANUEL LABOR CAN ALREADY BE TAXING AS IS, BUT YOU’RE ALSO THROWING OFF YOUR BODIES NATURAL SLEEP CYCLE.”
Shoes placed on the rack, you looked up at Papyrus. His hands are clasped together in front of him, his shoulder perfectly level as he stares down at you. He doesn’t sound mad or particularly fretful, no he’s perfectly calm. He’s been thinking about this for a while. You’ve also been working this warehouse job as long as you've known Papyrus though, so you aren’t sure why it’s suddenly a problem now.
“Trust me Papyrus, I know the risks, I’m the one who told you about them. It’s still the best paying job with benefits out the wazoo. The schedule is the worst part of it, I can handle everything about as well as I can get.”
“YOU DON’T NEED TO WORRY ABOUT MONEY,” he says, waving his hand in the air as if to bat away the thought, “SANS AND I MAKE PLENTY TO TAKE CARE OF EVERYTHING.”
“And my insurance that I get through my job?”
“YOU CAN GET STATE INSURANCE, LIKE YOU HAD BEFORE. THAT ALWAYS COVERED YOU JUST FINE.”
You’ve don’t even get into the politics of how fickle state insurance can be, instead bringing up your most immediate concern. “Papyrus, I’d have to drop my therapist if I did that,” you say, crossing your arms.
You felt a pang of something through your soulbond with Papyrus. You weren’t sure what it was. Indignation? Jealousy? Mistrust? They all felt ball park but not right either. It wasn’t even targeted at you though, at least you don’t think so. But it’s still odd, Papyrus never had issues with you seeking therapy. He’d cheered you on when you finally went back after dropping it for a few years.
He mirrors you, crossing his arms as well. “YOU HAVE TO TAKE THE PATH THROUGH THAT SKETCHY PARK IN PITCH BLACK TOO! IT’S NOT SAFE, YOU’VE HEARD HOW THEY’VE SEEN PEOPLE RUNNING AROUND AT NIGHT.”
Apparently he wasn’t going to touch therapy, despite feeling some way about it. You ignored that, instead nodding to what he said. The path was indeed sketchy, but you had walked it enough you could literally walk it with your eyes closed. You didn’t use a flashlight and walked as quietly as you could, doing what you could to not draw attention to yourself if someone was wandering around. It was oddly one of the places you were most familiar with and had the easiest time keeping track of your surroundings.
“That’s just until they finish the main road. Once that’s done the bus won’t have to take the detour and I can be dropped right in front of the parking lot.”
“AND HOW LONG IS THAT GOING TO TAKE?” He’s getting more firm now, voice taking an annoyed tilt as the conversation continues.
You shrug, avoiding looking at his face. It’s been years, they’re still digging out the sides to expand the two lanes into four and you don’t know how to check how long it’s supposed to be now. “Look, I’ll see if I can switch to day shift, but it may be a while. We’re really short staffed on the nightshift so they aren’t going to be quick on moving me around.”
“I STILL THINK YOU SHOULD QUIT ALTOGETHER! NO WORKPLACE SHOULD HAVE TO HAVE SUDDEN DEATH AND DISMEMBERSHIP INSURANCE!”
You sigh, trying to pick your words carefully. You’d never be able to make him see that as a good thing, having a safety net just in case something happened. “They have that because it’s a warehouse that uses a lot of heavy machinery, all of which I’m certified to use and know how to be safe around. Besides, we had surf and turf last month for going a year without injury. The last time someone got hurt it wasn’t even the machinery, someone just tripped on their shoe laces and concussed themself on a door frame.”
“AND WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO IF SOMETHING HAPPENS? IF SOMEONE IMPROPERLY WRAPS A PALLET AGAIN BUT THIS TIME INSTEAD OF BEING A LITTLE WOBBLE YOU GET SHOWERED IN BOXES OF NAILS? OR SOMEONE OVER EXTENDS AND TIPS AN AISLE ON YOU? JUST BECAUSE IT HASN’T HAPPENED YET DOESN’T MEAN IT WON’T. I’M ALWAYS WORRIED SICK WHEN YOU’RE GONE!” His hands are on your shoulders now. His voice wobbles slightly as he speaks. You look up, his face is full of concern, his grip tightening slightly as you meet his gaze.
A part of you is genuinely touched that he cares so much. You never had someone so concerned for your safety and well being before him and Sans. It felt good to finally have someone at home waiting for you to come back. Worrying and fretting about your safety and actually trying to push you to be safer instead of pushing you into whatever was easiest for them
The other part of you is still wary of this new development. Sure he was a worry wart at times, often expressing concern when you came home with a story of something slightly sketchy happening, but he always trusted you when you said you had it handled and that everyone at work was very serious about safety. You don’t know what caused the sudden change of opinion.
You take a deep breath in, closing your eyes as you do so. took both parts into consideration, contemplating what you were saying very carefully. It shouldn’t, but this conversation felt precarious.
You let your breath out slowly, opening your eyes as you do so. Your head is a little clearer as you meet Papyrus’ gaze again. “If I switch to dayshift I won’t be driving the forklifts as often, the focus will be more on packing palettes and taking stock. Then I can make sure there aren’t anymore sketchy palettes,” you try to nullify.
It doesn’t work. “I STILL JUST THINK YOU SHOULD QUIT.” He really wasn’t taking no for an answer on this.
You can’t help the slightly exacerbated sigh that escapes you. You just want to drop this whole conversation. “Look, I just got home, hun. I love you, and I appreciate your concern,” you try, laying it on thick in hopes to get him to let it go, “I’m just not going to commit to something like that in an instant, especially when I’m super hungry and tired from a long day.” You reach up, gently placing your hands on each side of his face, cradling his head between your hands.
He melts into it, eyes closing as he places his hand over yours. His body finally loosens from his stiff posture, focusing solely on your touch now.
“So, can I sit my sore but down on the couch so we can snuggle yet, or are we going to stand in front of the door all day?” you try.
He jolts up immediately, like a puppet springing to life. “OF COURSE! LET ME GET YOUR BREAKFAST FROM THE TABLE!”
With that he was off, a Papyrus colored blur as you finally flopped onto the couch full force. As long as you kept moving you usually didn’t feel much, but the moment you finally sat down to rest you could feel the weight of the day take hold of your body. Your shoes were cushioned enough that your feet didn’t hurt, but standing in a forklift for hours on end ment your knees and back aches at the end of the day. Your poor posture didn’t exactly help, but you took the free moment to finally relax, twisting this way and that to crack your back and release what little tension you could.
You sighed in relief as Papyrus returned from the kitchen, a lap tray of food in each hand. You shifted into a proper sitting position, letting him sit beside you and place the tray on your lap. He always hated when anyone ate on the couch because of the crumbs, but the trays made a good compromise. Especially when it meant you could lean into him and snuggle a bit when you two ate, something you were happy to do as you finally got the chance to wind down.
“You’ve gotten really good at omelets. I'm proud of you,” You praise, looking at the perfectly folded omelet on your plate. There were small flakes of vegetables, but he learned that if he minced them small enough and added a bit more cheese, it didn’t change the texture or taste enough for you to turn your nose up to it.
He beamed at the praise. “OF COURSE! NOTHING BUT MY BEST FOR THE BEST DATEMATE I COULD ASK FOR!” He came a long way from using every knife like it was clever and just turning the heat up as high as it could go so things would cook faster. Sans wasn’t much of a cook, so he didn’t have much he could teach his little brother. As much as Undyne had taught him, you had learned her methods were… unconventional to say the least. You weren’t a cook by any means either, but you could follow a recipe and chop up things, even if you were a little slow. The last couple months especially you had seen him improving quickly, taking the little tips and tricks you had given him at the start of your relationship and improving in leaps and bounds.
You smile as he turns on one of your comfort shows on the TV. You’re sure he can feel the exhaustion seeping through your soulbond. The food is good though. A glass of milk, some chopped fresh fruit, a tasty omlet and some toast. It’s a lot for you. He’s really been trying to get you to eat regularly, focusing on getting you to kick the habit of skipping meals when you feel too tired to eat.
You’ve been living with him a year now, and you still can barely wrap your head around it sometimes. Always one to throw himself into anything full force, he never skimped on a chance to take care of you. It could be a little overwhelming at times, but you got used to it as time marched on. Each instance of you being surprised by his care taken as a challenge for him to make up for lost time and love that he believed you deserved.
You’re barely half way through your food when Papyrus sets his tray on the table in front of the couch, finished with his meal. He starts to gently shift you so your back is to him. You let out a confused humm but follow along.
“Just Relax Dear, I Want To Help You Feel Good.” He says, placing his hands on your shoulders. You wouldn’t think bones could be so relaxing, but he’s gentle as he starts feeling out each muscle, gently pressing and testing for knots. You can feel warm spreading beneath his finger tips, green magic working in tandem with his ministrations to coax your muscles into unwinding. He knows by now where you hold your stress the most, paying special attention to those spots. He’s thorough, slowly making his way from the base of your skull down to where your spine turns to your tailbone, not leaving a single spot of your back untouched.
You’re so lost in the feeling, closing your eyes so you can soak up each bit of the attention, that you completely forget that you’re still supposed to be eating breakfast. It’s just him and his hands working their way down.
That is until he stops. You’re practically a puddle in his arms, leaning fully into his chest, eyes closed as you soak up the attention. Then you feel something bump gently against your lips.
“Come On, You Still Need To Finish Your Food.” Opening your eyes reveals a bite of fruit stabbed on a fork held aloft by Papyrus, his slightly hunched form almost engulfing you.
Exhaustion has long since bled into sleepiness. The gentle attention and Papyrus’ softer voice lulling you the longer you sit. Your head feels like it’s full of cotton, thoughts slowed down as your left feeling sappy and cared for. You lean forward, gently eating the slice without question. You can feel Papyrus nuzzle into the top of your head and you lean back into him, doing your best to express how you feel through your soulbond. Humans aren’t as sensitive to the soulbonds, but you’ve put in the effort to make sure yours with Papyrus was strong. He was important to you, and you wanted to make sure he knew much he meant to you in any way you could.
So you did your best through your addled mind, pushing every mushy feeling and ounce of affection and love through your soulbond as you could. He clearly got the message, as his other arm snaked around your middle to hold all the tighter.
He kept feeding you, bite after bite, easily using his one arm to break things up into small pieces and give it to you. He moved to grab the cup but you got it first, drinking the last few sips. You’d rather not risk him accidentally waterboarding you with milk, you thought with a small laugh.
Once you set down the glass he silently placed the tray beside his and then picked you up in his arms. His grip was firm and stable, you never worried he’d drop you.
“I Love You So Much,” he says as he marches up the stairs. “So Soft. Absolutely Adorable All Times Of The day.” He gently pushes open the door to your shared room. You rest your head against his chest, nodding happily. You’re tired enough you don’t want to talk much, but you both know you love him just as much.
He gently sets you down on the bed, pressing a skeleton kiss on your forehead, then turns to the dresser and starts pulling out your pajamas. He’s looking for your favorite pair, able to quickly find how organized he always is.
When he turns around, pajamas in hand, an utterly love struck expression plastered on his face, you can’t help but melt a little more. Sure, he’s been a little more clingy than usual, and the chat today was out of nowhere, but he’s just been worried like he always is. Nightmares probably. He always had a bad habit of hiding his worst feelings till they were too much for him to handle properly. You’d think more about all that and your job later, right now you were focusing on the fact that Papyrus was trying to take your shirt off.
“I can dress myself, Hun.” It’s barely a whisper, but you know he can hear you as you. You move to start undressing yourself but he takes hold of your hands before you can do much.
“But I Want To Do This For You. You Deserve So Much Love And Care.” His voice is soft, tender. More nuzzling against your neck before he’s lifting your shirt above your head. He lays you back, unbuckles your belt and unbuttons your jeans. You lean forward enough as you help shimmy out of your pants to place a kiss on the top of his skull. He laughs softly, helping you slip into your much softer pajama pants as you continue to pepper everywhere you reach with affection.
He slides your shirt over your shoulders and then carefully do up each button for you. On the last one he looks up, his gaze meeting yours. You place a kiss to his teeth, knowing that despite him not having lips he still enjoys it nonetheless. He leans in, closing his eyes as he cups your face in return. You wrap your arms around his chest.
And quickly before he can react, you shift your weight back, pulling back and up as much as you can as you roll. Papyrus is pulled with, as intended, and you end up wrapping your legs around him for good measure. He’s on the other side of the bed now with you clinging to him like a koala now. He’s far from upset from this development though, laughing as he pulls you in. You can feel his chest expand before he lets out a large sigh. You let out a large yawn in response and tuck your head into the crook of his neck. You’re warm and comfortable, and that last move was the last of the energy you wanted to expend for the rest of the day.
You mutter a good night, barely able to make out the words as you finally let yourself fall asleep. You know he’ll tuck you in, keeping you warm and cared for in your sleep.