#just been in a bit of a slump but !! m’ feelin’ better today !! ^_^

[satorisoup]

UWAHHH good morning friends & happy sunday !! ⸜(*ˊᗜˋ*)⸝ i hope today brings each of you wonderful adventures and happiness !! m’ sending smoochies to all of you, MWUUUAH !! <3 🍓

[craniumaniac-moved]

【 night of the lockdown . 】✘

a discord rp ft. @tender--age--in--plume​

This roleplay is set during the night of the Po Town lockdown put into effect by Plumeria after a bomb threat. The threat was a result of the events that took place the previous night when Rico ( @komala-scientist ) purposefully baited Guzma to beat him up. Warning: It’s long, took us over 12 hours to get done, and it’s emotional.

Mercifully, things have begun to quiet down. Shady House is fuller even than usual, with many team members having chosen to stay in the main house due to the lockdown rather than overflowing into the surrounding houses as is typical. The beds are packed and many have piled up on the floor like dogs. Plumeria doesn't mind, She likes knowing exactly where everyone is, especially at a time like this. Unable to sleep, she laps around the mansion and checks in again and again. Eventually her travels lead her to the Throne Room; she hesitates with her hand on the knob for a moment before sighing and letting herself in. "Hey, G."

While it may have been a hectic day for everybody else, it had been a quiet one for the Skull Boss. Holed up in his room and not communicating with anyone, he napped, he snacked, he drank, he smoked, he watched porn, and he played some GTA and even some Pokemon Crossing. Currently, he sat on his bed, a drawing pad open in front of him, many colored pencils scattered around him, and a bottle of gin nestled between his legs. He's surprised when she comes in, looking up with a small gasp. She'd been keeping him updated professionally, but other than that he didn't think she wanted anything to do with him currently. This mess was all kind of his doing ( but mostly Rico’s, as he would strongly argue ), although he wasn't taking it very seriously himself. He considered the entire series of events to be completely stupid, to put it frankly. "Hey, P. Sup."

There's a little pause as she notes his relaxed posture, a hint of resentment welling in her. The door closes behind her and she folds her arms, regarding him with a cool gaze. "Have a nice night?"

He shrugs, looking back down to his drawing pad to continue coloring something in. "I guess... Just tryin'a keep chill."

A small sigh ... she approaches the bed and comes to sit next to him.

He's quiet for a little bit as he puts the finishing touches on a Scolipede doodle. When he's done, he decides a big swig of his drink is overdue, still finding it hard to look at her. "How're you doin'...?"

"Shitty," she replies honestly, leaning over to slump against him. "Long night. Think shit's coolin' down now though."

"Ya prolly deserve some good sleep, y'know..." Another swig.

"Maybe ... was worried about you, though." She glancing at the sketchbook. "Guess maybe I shouldn't'a been ... looks like you ain't been much bothered."

"Oh, 'm bothered, that's fo'sure." He reaches to flip to the next blank page in the sketchbook, starting to think of what to draw next. "But I ain't scared."

There comes a small huff through her nose. "You ain't scared'a nothin'."

"Well... guess 'm lyin' a lil bit. I'm scared'a you bein' upset wit' me..."

Silence, for a few moments. "...I ain't very happy right now, that's for sure. But ... I dunno. I ain't really pissed at you."

In those few moments, he grabs a black colored pencil and nearly puts it to the paper multiple times before he realizes he can't draw with someone watching, not even Plumeria. A sigh. He closes the sketchbook and starts to bundle up the pencils. "I'unno what ya want me to do. I didn' fuckin' do nothin' wrong..."

Sighing deeply, she leans back against the headboard. "I know. I was pissed at you for not tryin' and then you tried and Rico went and fucked shit up. I just ... I dunno why you couldn't both try make it work for me. When one'a you was tryin' the other one was makin' shit hard and then you switched places. I was real excited when I thought shit might actually be okay ... I wanted it so bad. More then I ever wanted anything. And now it's all shit."

"Yo I fuckin' learned from my mistake before, s'why I was tryin' to try last night. Rico's a fuckin' idiot t'not go 'long wit' it." He flops his art supplies to the floor next to the bed, stretching out his legs and leaning back with her, gulping down some drink as he does so. "I knew you'd be real excited. I was, too. Not really to be his friend or nothin' but I knew it'd make ya happy... n' proud'a me. I was real proud'a myself, steppin' back 'fore I dove in givin' him a hard time, instead decidin' on tryin'a relate to him somehow. Even if it was just our fuckin' birthdays bein' around Halloween." A pause. "Yeah. It is all shit. I'm real, real sorry, Plumes. He's not gettin' another chance wit' me after pullin' that shit on me..."

She anticipated that, but it's still painful to hear. She pulls her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around them, resting her forehead against the backs of her knees. "I know."

But wait, there's more. The kingpin's about to go on a tipsy ramble. "He fuckin' used me, Plumeria. Asshole was thinkin', 'Hurr durr I wanna get hurt 'cause boohoo I hate me! I know what I can do! I can go make the big dumb thug get mad! I'll take advantage 'a how easy it is to piss him off 'cause he's so stupid! Insert some random ass gibberish ain't nobody got time for! And fuck Plumeria's feelin's to hell 'cause obviously I don't give a shit about her!' Arceus damn!" A deep breath. He's clutching the neck of the gin bottle so tightly his hand is trembling and his knuckles are white. "Ya tol' me to shut up earlier when I was tryin'a say this, but you keepin' close to him got me real worried."

As he speaks, she closes her eyes. Okay, Melia. Keep it together. Slowly, gradually, she unwinds, stretching her legs back out and sitting up to square her shoulders. How stupid of her to think that coming to him would give her a soft place to land. "Yeah, well. I wouldn't be who I am if I gave up on every person who hurt me," she replies stiffly.

Finally, he turns his head to look at her. "You tryin'a hold on like he's family, but he ain't yo' family, Plumeria. That's me, that's all'a Skull, that's Tutu n' anybody else you close wit' who don't fuck wit' us like T n' even Hyde. I been fucked wit' by Rico, so's T."

"You tellin' me you want me cut him out?"

He runs a hand through his hair and sighs, becoming distressed. "I can't control what ya do. Jus' don't be fuckin' disappointed in me for not acceptin' him like he's part'a the fam."

Time passes. At last, a slow nod. "I understand." She's still not looking at him.

And he looks away. Hugging the bottle close to his stomach with one hand, his other hand covers his eyes as he hunches over. "I'm sorry..."

Her eyes snap closed again. "I'm sorry, too."

"You still gonna be disappointed in me, aren't ya?" Shuddering sigh. "Dammit, I was so proud 'a me, Plume, I really was... Couldn't wait for you bein' proud 'a me, too..."

"I ain't disappointed in you, G. I'm just ... disappointed. I really wanted this, and I--thought I could trust him." Her voice breaks.

He sits up, places his bottle on the floor and scoots himself over to her, arms slipping around her for a Komala hug. "It's gonna be aight, y'know..."

The moment he touches her ... she breaks. It starts with a sharp, haggard gasp and a flinch, her eyes shutting tight as her body tenses up, and then continues with ugly, shuddering sobs that wrack her body.

Although it's not something he has never experienced with her before, the reaction admittedly startles him. He doesn't know whether to stop or to hold on tighter, so he simply loosens his grip for the time being. "Plumes...! Shhh... I got ya, Plumes...," he attempts to soothe.

She grips his arms around her tightly as though to keep him from slipping away, squeezing, gulping down deep, wet breaths until she calms down enough to speak. "...Sorry."

Since she seems to want him to continue holding, he squeezes and he doesn't stop, rocking her back and forth slightly. "That's okay, P. Just let out what ya need to. G's here for ya."

"I'm––s–so–––fuckin'–––tired..." She chokes, gritting her teeth hard as she tries to swallow down the fresh wave.

"C'mon, let's put ya to bed then? You been workin' real hard today..." He doesn't quite get it.

"No...not tired like that. Tired of this." She sniffs wetly, lifting a hand to swipe at the tears that have fallen.

"Oh..." He lovingly kisses her cheek and the edge of her jaw, hoping to further comfort her. "I still don't quite get what ya mean... What's 'this' exactly...?"

She stammers, then takes a big, shaky breath. "I just...spent all day...talkin' to the fam, textin' with Aether, dealin' with people wanna kill you, makin' sure everybody safe, dealin' with Nanu...and you been in here drawin'. 'Cause you think it's all stupid. Well, maybe it's stupid for you...maybe this all real fuckin' easy for you...but it ain't easy for me. It's hard. I never signed up for do this all alone. You s'posed'a have my back." A ragged breath. "Maybe...maybe you don't even care. Maybe this all sounds like more bullshit 'cause you don't think you did nothin' wrong...like that makes it better...like that means less fallout for me. Well--at least you got somethin' you wanted outta it all." She sighs. "I stayed home."

His mouth falls open and slowly and unsurely... he lets go of her. Maybe he deserved it, but that really, really wounded him. "Nobody came t' me 'bout anything...," he says weakly. "An' I didn't come to nobody 'bout anything neither 'cause I felt like I'd fuck it up. I'd get mad we was even havin' to deal with this stupid shit Rico's dumb friends brought on us 'cause they ain't know shit, 'cause he can't fuckin' make it clear he asked for it, makin' me out to be all fuckin' wrong when I—" Deep breath. He doesn't want to get off track. "Plumes... I'm real thankful ya stayed home... real thankful for all the shit you done today... been wantin' to talk to ya but I thought you was still too mad at me..." Suddenly standing from the bed, he begins pacing the room to help expend some of his newfound anxious energy before he possibly cracks, pulling at his hair.

Her eyes follow him. When he stands she wraps her arms around herself and draws a deep breath. "I know...I know." Her eyes slip shut. "I don't..." Fuck it, Melia. He doesn't understand. He gonna think me stupid. Trust him. "I don't wanna lose my dad. Again." She winces, bracing herself as though for impact.

He stops his pacing and just stares at her, hands still gripping his hair, but the tenseness in his posture goes limp with a heavy exhale. "Plumes... He ain't your dad. Even if he was he ain't been a good one, 'specially not that I ever seen."

"No...you ain't ever seen it. And you never asked, either." Her face is expressionless.

"What's'at s'posed to mean...?"

"Just ... there's more to it than you ever saw. There's more to it than I ever told you. You actin' like you got all the information ... and you don't."

He lowers himself to the floor, sitting and curling into a ball in the middle of the room. "I try stay outta yo' business like'at...," he mutters. "And... look... I been there, done that havin' a father in my life n' it's jus' not somethin' I think's worth it. Hard for me t' get, hard to want to. But if there was stuff ya wanna tell me I'd'a listened..."

Slowly, she sinks to the ground and crawls over to settle down beside him, hesitantly lifting a hand to gently stroke his back. "I... never really thought you wanted for hear it. Maybe I could'a prevented all this if I been more honest with you." She sighs. "I know it ain't a topic you got good feelin's about, but ... I dunno. It's important for me. Was important for me ... still is important for me. Just ... I guess maybe I gotta make a choice now." She bites her lip. "Nothin' I want for myself can be more important than my fam ... no matter how bad I want it."

"What options you think you got...?" His head is lifted and he turns toward her. Selfishly, he'd want her to cut Rico out. The things the man has done around him and said to him about his family—their family—are unforgivable, really. But if he is truly a father figure to her who makes her happy, Guzma doesn't want her heart broken... He'll try his best to accept whatever she chooses.

"That's the thing, G. I dunno if I got an option."

"Well then I mean what're you thinkin'...?" He uncurls himself from the position he was in and once again puts his arms around her.

"I'm thinkin'..." Deep sigh. She shuts her eyes and stiffens, refusing to lean into his embrace—not out of anger, but because she needs herself to be strong at the moment. "I'm thinkin' I been puttin' my own needs ahead'a my fam too long. If it gotta come down between him and their safety... it's gotta be them."

Guzma gives a nod. "My opinion's prolly obvious, but I do think that's smart thinkin'..."

So ... that's it. She goes stone silent and still.

"I'm... sorry. I don't want you hurtin'..."

"It don't matter." She stands. "You okay?"

"Yes it fuckin' does matter." He stands as well, letting her slip out of his arms and ignoring her question.

"G... don't."

"Don't what?!"

"Don't make this harder for me."

A big sigh. "Aight. Fine. I'll shut up."

"'M doin' what you want and what's best for the fam. You ought'a be happy." She pauses and drops her gaze, glancing towards the door. "So should I."

"I mean, I guess, yeah... but still hurts seein' you hurtin'. Always will."

"Yeah, well ... I had my chance. I fucked it up." Her words are cold--not cold like ice, but cold like a corpse.

"You didn't fuck up nothin'."

"Yeah. I did."

He crosses his arms and looks away, not wanting to argue anymore.

Silence.

"I love you. Missed ya lately, too..." His gaze is still averted.

"...I love you, too."

He looks at her with a tiny smile.

He does not receive one in kind. "You need me tonight, G?"

Swallow. Noticing she doesn't smile back, he loses his. "Uhm..." He shakes his head. A lie.

"I'm gonna need a couple hours off-base. I wanna tell him in person." She doesn't meet his eye.

"...'Kay."

Anguish.

"What is it, P? If you done here, if ya don't need me, ya can go on..."

She shakes her head. "Ain't about not needin' you. You know that, yeah?"

Nod. "Uh-huh. So what you still here for?"

"Nothin', I guess." She doesn't move.

He just stands there, looking at her with a subtle glare.

...Sigh. "A'ight. Later, G." Finally, she turns to go.

He almost stops her, wishing he could give her a quick kiss, but is afraid she'll reject it after how the past few days have gone. "Lemme know how shit goes. I'll be awake, I'll be here for ya."

There's a brief pause in the doorway. "...I know. Thanks, Guzma." She doesn't look back. The door closes behind her.

He sighs, finding his unfinished bottle of liquor to continue nursing the thing, and places himself on his throne so his bed doesn't tempt him to pass out.

[angelia-dark]

Memoirs Of a Creepy Brother 2

Since these are just little one-shot clips, I wont link them, but I’m putting them all under the tag undertail memoirs, if you want to look up the collection.

Part 2: Don’t Take Candy From Strangers

The Recipe:  US Papyrus, drugging, Honeymustard

AO3 Link

In many ways, finding the way into this universe that was affectionately dubbed as 'Swap' was a huge blessing.  It had an air of quiet peace to it, the kind that made it so easy to let down your guard and let yourself BREATHE after years of suffocating under one's own self-preservation.  

That was how Sans felt now.  

He was reclining under a tree, enjoying the scent of pine and freshness without the sharp tang of blood and dust that would have permeated the air back in his own world.  He enjoyed coming here from time to time when he needed space from that murderous world of his...and, yes, space from his younger sibling.

Odd he would make that escape only to end up here, enjoying the peace with...his younger sibling.

Well, this Papyrus—'Stretch', as he liked to be called—was truly a 'swap' of a personality concerning his own brother's demeanor.  Where there were sharp angles and rigid posture on his brother, this Papyrus was all smoothness and relaxation.  Everything from his eyelights to his smile were soft and almost lazy, being in no hurry to do anything.

Sometimes Sans—affectionately dubbed 'Red' by this juxtaposed Papyrus—would just sit and stare and ponder over the differences between the two.  He would keep in mind of his brother, tall, regal, sharp in tone as well as appearance, as he looked on Stretch, who hardly even seemed to be related to his own Papyrus, let alone fundamentally be the same person. Where Papyrus had more bulk to his bones from training and the hellish conditions of their world, Stretch had a tad more height, in reference to his nickname.  He would take almost gliding strides as opposed to a purposeful march, move with carelessness and ease, and just seemed to go with the flow of anything that happened in his world.

And Red would find himself yearning for the same, really.  

It was why he came here...to taste a bit of that carefree spirit that was stifled in his own world.  As his own brother greatly disliked the world of 'Swap'—“Nothing but careless fools and shiftless dreamers!”—Red felt comfort in knowing he could come here and actively enjoy himself.

Especially if he had Stretch's company.

It wasn't that he PREFERRED Stretch over his brother...far from it.  But sometimes he just wanted to be near someone who resembled his brother without the constant aura of killing intent, even if it wasn't directed right at him.  It was just a break, he rationalized to himself.  A much-needed source of camaraderie and relaxation.

If only he didn't have a crush on the guy.

He almost didn't come today, he thought as he glanced over at his brother's double who was reclining back next to him; his hands flexed into the snow, trying not make it obvious.  He was terrible at that, he always had been.  He was never subtle about his attraction to his brother, something that Papyrus was always quick to point out and chastise.  What they did in their home was one thing, but displaying a weakness of that sort in public was just ASKING for a dusting.

But here, in THIS universe, Red had seen Monsters making out on a park bench without a care in the world. It was a dream come true for someone as touch-starved as he was.

…......LESS of a dream that he had to keep restraining himself from indulging in that starvation with Stretch.

He caught himself almost whimpering whenever Stretch got touchy with him; it was casual observance of him and and his own double—'Blue', he'd gone with, mostly to counteract his own nickname of 'Red'—that the brothers here were not afraid in the least to show physical affection.  Blue was a big fan of hugs and Stretch was more than receptive of them, although the taller Skeleton rather preferred an arm around the shoulder or something of that casual nature.  

Red desired such contact, of course he did...but having it come from someone who shared a similar soul aura with his own beloved brother, whom he loved more than life itself in ways brothers shouldn't...

...it was a recipe for disaster.

So he tried his hardest to keep his hands—and wandering thoughts—to himself.

Stretch's arm slinging around his shoulders reminded him that he was, in fact, there and not informed of Red's apparent need for self-control.  He felt himself tense up at the sudden intrusion of his personal space and instantly regretted it when Stretch glanced down at him.

“You alright down there, pal?” the tall Skeleton asked, taking note of Red's discomfort yet making no move to remove the source of it.  “You seem a little...high-strung.  More than usual.”

Red felt his cheekbones blush, squirming in place.  “'m fine,” he muttered, wishing he could disappear into his own jacket.  He could feel his touch-starvation whine and bay out for satisfaction, and was seriously considering giving in.  

By some miracle, he felt the arm being removed from around his shoulders as Stretch sat up and looked him over.  “...you hurt or somethin'?” Stretch asked, giving Red a critical look.  Red quickly shook his head, his hands playing with the open hems of his jacket.

“Nah, I'm not hurt,” he replied. “Just...”  Starved for affection and touch, associating you with my brother, in desperate need of a cuddle like you'd give Blue. “...stressed.”  Okay, well that wasn't a lie, at least.  

Stretch stared for a moment before nodding with a look of understanding.  “Stressed, huh?” he murmured, rummaging around in his pockets.  “I got just th' thing for stress, buddy.”  He gave a triumphant grin when he pulled out a handful of material and holding it out between them, among them being a small stack of papers, a lighter, and a baggie of dried leaves.

Red stared at them, feeling a jolt of longing and dread merge in a pool at the base of his soul.  He was no stranger to illicit substances back in his world; though the drug ring was dealt with much better in the Capitol, anyone could have anything they wanted in Snowdin, if they knew the right guy.  

And Red knew them all, names and phone numbers memorized by heart.  

That is, until Papyrus stepped in through the Guard and began cleansing Snowdin of its dependency on such substances, and Red was no exception.  It took a couple years, even cold-turkey, for him to finally stop craving something at the first twinge of stress.  It remained difficult considering anything could go down in Grillby's bar, so long as Papyrus wasn't around and disagreements were taken outside.  

Still, Red had been off this stuff for two years now, yet it was staring him in the face and making him recall the sweet, sweet caress of inebriation.  “Uhh...” he said oh-so intelligently.  “...I...shit, I've been off that stuff for awhile now, Stretch...”  He forced his eyelights down to his hands, feeling the craving for even just one hit drown out his starvation for touch.  

“But you know what it is, at least,” Stretch said, opening the bag and preparing it as he spoke. He rolled it up tight and flicked open his lighter, lighting the end of it.  “And trust me, this is hardly th' worst thing you can have here.  It's mild as hell, an' wears off after a couple of hours.” He took a drag before letting the smoke sift through is teeth, grinning as he held it out to Red.  

If Red's desire had a stomach, it would be growling right now.  He stared at the piece almost hungrily, his hands flexing into his jacket.  “....I....I can't...” he said, shifting where he sat.  “...Pap...I mean, Boss, he'd...”

“'Boss' ain't here right now, is he?” Stretch said, his voice having a mocking tilt at the word 'Boss', as he normally did when addressing his darker counterpart. “He can run his Snowdin th' way he wants, but he's got shit to say about this one.”  He held it out closer to Red.  “An' let's face it, you NEED a little unwinding.”

Red flicked his eyelights from the joint to Stretch's face, feeling his self-control fray at the indisputable logic.  It was true, he DID come here to relax and unwind and to just...not feel so BAD anymore.

Almost of its own accord, his hand reached up and took the piece, holding it for a long moment before bringing it to his teeth and taking a long drag.

Oh sweet, murderous gods, yes.

He kept the smoke inside for as long as he could muster before exhaling heavily, his body slumping.  “.....ffffffuck yeah,” he murmured, dropping his skull back against the tree trunk as he deftly lifted his hand to give the joint back to Stretch, who accepted it and took a drag of his own.

“That's what I'm talkin' about,” the taller Skeleton purred, giving Red a wide, lazy grin.  “You take it like a champ.”  He curled his arm around Red again.  “How ya feelin' now?”

Actually?  Red was feeling pre-tty good right now.  The tension left his bones and his head felt lighter than air, making him actually struggle to remember what he had ever been so stressed about in the first place.  He relaxed against Stretch's arm, sighing heavily.  “...wow...” he muttered, grinning.  “What was even in that stuff?”

Stretch's arm tightened around him. “The good shit, my other-brother,” he replied.  “Take another hit.”  Instead of handing the piece back over, he took a long drag, then leaned down, tipping Red's skull to his, and pressed his teeth to Red's, exhaling the smoke into Red's mouth.

About fifteen different emotions ran through Red's mind, and only two of them were pleasant; still, he couldn't help but breathe in the drug vapor, feeling his bones tingle pleasantly as it was absorbed into his magic.  He felt a shudder run up his spine before it was relaxed back down with the soporific effects, his mind clouding even more as he slumped against Stretch.

The taller Skeleton pressed in closer, and Red felt a soft tingle of magic against his teeth a brief moment before an orange ectoplasmic tongue ran over his sharpened edges, dipping into his mouth shallowly as though teasing him.  Red shuddered hard, feeling his magic pool into his mouth on reflex and giving something for Stretch to prod and play with.  His hands shakily took hold of Stretch's hoodie; to pull closer or push away, he didn't know.  He wasn't able to make up his mind, his rational thoughts hiding behind the haze of the drug, and he could only hold onto Stretch tighter to ground himself to SOMETHING.

Red's head dropped back, unable to properly hold it up anymore.  “Tha' wuzzn't normal shit...” he slurred, able to hone in on THAT fact quite easily.  He felt the world tip backwards, and felt the ground beneath him tilt—when had he laid down anyway?—as Stretch loomed over him, the taller Skeleton's eyelights gleaming almost deviously.  

“I told ya, Red,” he purred, sliding himself between Red's femurs, “it was th' good shit. You've been off it for too long...”  He pressed little kisses to Red's skull as he pressed his pelvis down to Red's.  “We can fix that for ya...”  

Red flushed darkly, groaning softly despite himself.  “W...wait....” he muttered, only to have his teeth captured in another kiss.  He parted his jaws to allow a tongue to pass through, his thoughts becoming distracted from the familiarity of it.

...Boss...

He could only think about his Boss, his brother, his lover...the heavy weight domineering over him as he submitted entirely under the younger's will.  Sharp hands that undressed him, clawed phalanges that scraped over his bones, teeth that drew marrow...all things that Red craved and took as much sick delight in as the Skeleton that inflicted it on him.

Red's vision was one big blur, only able to FEEL as his shorts were removed, his sweater tugged up over his ribs, a large hand palming at his quickly-congealing magic in his pelvis.  He moaned, squirming in the snow and parting his femurs wider in invitation.

Boss is in a good mood, he thought, his soul fluttering with a surge of thrill.  He loved it when his Boss was happy...relations between them was more drawn out, more focused on touch rather than just fucking.  His breath hitched, hips bucking up when he felt two long fingers push into the mound he had formed in his pelvis.  

***

Stretch licked his teeth, his eyelight almost burning as he watched Red writhing under him, the smaller Skeleton's red eyelights wide and bright, flickering with lust and haze from the drug.  

Fuck, that's hot, he thought, working his fingers faster into that tight mass of magic that Red had formed.  He didn't know that his special stash would have this much of an effect on the other Skeleton; maybe Red HAD been off the stuff for too long...

“Guhhh......ffffuck....Boss....!”

Red's voice had Stretch stilling his fingers.  'Boss'.  That goddamn edgelord version of himself that needed a good kick in the coccyx and a fist in the teeth.  The way that asshole looked at his brother sometimes like a piece of gum to chew and spit back out...despicable.

But obviously he was good enough of a lover for Red to be thinking about him at a time like this.  

Yeah, he could work with this.

Stretch nuzzled Red's skull, letting out a guttural growl that he immediately felt a reaction to.  Red clenched tightly around his fingers, bones taking on a hot red flush. Beautiful.  He used his other hand to undo his cargos and stroke at his tendril-like appendage, watching Red squirm and moan and getting more excited by the minute.

“B...Boss....please....!” Red whimpered, his hands reaching out to clutch into Stretch's hoodie. “Please please please fuck me please...!”

Well, he couldn't leave him waiting.

Red blinked open his eye sockets, sensing himself in familiar territory.  He sat up, rubbing his skull and seeing that he was in his own house in his own universe, on his own couch.  His head felt like helium in a lead ball, doing nothing for the migraine he had obviously developed during his time asleep.

He absently wondered how he got here. The last thing he remembered...or he THOUGHT he remembered...was Boss fucking him silly before—

“FINALLY, you're awake.”

Red looked up, seeing his brother glowering at him with a mug of steaming drink in his hand.  Boss stalked over, putting the mug down with more force than necessary on the coffee table.  “You got so lazy at that you slept through your return time!  I had to fetch you from that drug-addled asshole's dimension!”  He crossed his arms.  “Drink the damn coffee, Sans, we have work later.”  He turned on heel and stalked back in the kitchen.

Red picked up the mug, sipping it. Piping hot, with lots of milk that Boss always insisted on for 'stronger bones'.  He smiled, his face flushing as he thought of earlier, of the little little gestures being displayed now, evidence that Boss was still in his good mood.

Well, it wouldn’t do well to ruin it, would it?

“...heh...whatever you say, Boss...”