Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was a dark, starless night when the souls of the dead and dying began calling to him again. Not with words, of course, nor with any real sound at all, but with a quiet tugging that he found he could not ignore. It was subtle at first, like a toddler’s weak grasp on their mother’s skirt. Then, as time passed, it grew more forceful. Less of a tug and more of a yank , it became, as though he were a collared dog oh so ruthlessly pulled by his leash. Find us, find us , the souls soundlessly called, yet his head began to ache all the same as if the silence was instead the mightiest shout.

Sighing, he tore his eyes from the seemly empty sky and slowly pushed himself to his feet. Work could not continue to be avoided, it seemed, though he dearly wished for just one more peaceful night. It was dark, yes, but the air was cool and the realm felt so calm, even if he found the silence a little lonely with his dutiful brother busy with the very tasks he himself was avoiding. Find us, find us , the souls insisted and he sighed again. The silent cries would get noisier, he knew, and the tugging only harder. Find us, find us! Find us, find us! Find us, find us!

Find me.

Stilling, he frowned and listened closer.

Find us, find us! Find us, find us!

Find us, find us! Find us, find us!

Then, so quietly the others nearly drowned it, came that small, separate call.

Find me .

“Ah,” he murmured, understanding settling in. “another one.”

A little curious, he focused on the separate call and nearly winced at the harsh yank he felt urging him towards it. Although the sensation wasn’t actually physical, he absently rubbed at his sternum to soothe the imagined pain as he listened to the cry again, awaiting a name just to ensure he was correct in his assumptions. It was hard to catch but, eventually, the words came to him in a voiceless whisper; knowledge creeping to the forefront of his mind.

Genocide Sans Gaster

Sans Gaster.

Sans .

Instinctual, a chill went down his back and he shivered. It was always a little unsettling to be called to reap the soul of someone who was technically you but, unfortunately, it wasn’t all that uncommon. With so many worlds containing so many timelines and so, so many events, it was inevitable that he come across other Sanses, even if some were only that in the vaguest of ways. Still…

“Genocide Sans, huh?” Another sharp tug. “It’s been quite some time since I’ve been called by one of you this strongly. I wonder why that is…”

Find us, find us! Find us, find us!

Wincing at the increasing insistence of the others, he sighed yet again. Curiosity could wait, he decided as a tall, wicked scythe appeared in his grasp with a flare of magic. There wouldn’t be any peace until the louder begging souls had their rest and he rather not have a headache simply because his laziness came around to curse him with their noise. With his mind made up, he focused his magic and allowed himself to be led to whichever world’s dead reached out to him first.

Just as he was about to disappear; however, he heard it again.

Find me.

Find me!

FIND ME!

And with his magic already set to be guided…

...he went.

Darkness.

That was the first thing he noticed.

It was almost as though the shadowy, cloud-hidden sky he had been admiring had overcome the entire world and painted it in midnight; or as if the void of space had left all it’s stars and suns and moons behind until only deep, dark blackness remained. Curious, he slowly spun himself around and found that, mid-air as he was, he couldn’t actually tell if he was right-side up or upside-down. If he lowered himself would he feel the ground? Was there a ground? A ceiling? Did this world of shadow ever actually end? Plagued by this thoughts, he began to drift downwards, closer to what he assumed would be the floor.

Suddenly, he saw it.

Light.

Pausing inches or miles or a hair's breadth away from the ground, he tilted his head and peered at the light with interest. It was a speck so small that the void nearly drowned it but the more he stared the more certain he grew that it was light.

Find me.

Find me!

FIND ME!

It seemed as though he was about to, little soul.

He was creeping towards the light even before he consciously made the decision to move, his subconscious directing him after the soundless call and his body naturally following the forceful tugs he felt until, finally, he was close enough to see that the speck was not a speck but a beam of light…

...with a person beneath it.

Sans, he knew, lazily taking in what little he could observe when the other was faced away. A genocidal one as given away by the name Genocide Sans but not one he could ever recall facing before. The scarf was familiar—his brother wore one very similar—but the white hoodie worn with it was not. Then again, his years were so long and his experiences so many that it was possible he was just forgetting this particular one. It didn’t really matter though, did it? The mystery of this place intrigued him, yes, but it seemed as though there was no mystery behind the Sans himself. Wasting time was dull if there was no fun or relaxation behind it so, with a bit of disappointment, he readied his scythe and soundlessly stepped up closer to his victim.

Find me.

Find me!

FIND ME!

He did.

Expertly, his scythe was swung…

...and the Sans disappeared.

“Attacking from the back is a little cheap, isn’t it?”

Shrugging off his surprise, he turned around to face the other; his dark, unsettling sockets meeting the singular eye light of the would-be victim. Actually, victim looked to be the perfect descriptor for the Sans given his wounded, bloodied appearance. How was he still alive, he wondered, tracking a drop of crimson with his gaze as it created a bright line down the other’s chin. Reaping usually meant gathering souls already passed or ripping them from bodies seconds away from death but the Sans looked well pass the point of death, yet he wasn’t dust where he stood. Strange, he thought. Very, very strange.

“Staring is a little rude, buddy.”

Knowing his sockets made others nervous, he simply stared more .

Find me.

Find me!

FIND ME!

He did. He did.

“Yeesh, attacking from the back, staring… the least you could do is introduce yourself. You see,” Eye light never leaving him, the other skeleton motioned to the darkness around them. “I don’t get many visitors around here and, because of that, it’s always a little strange to see someone drop by. You’re not the first to attack me on sight though, so let’s try this again. Hi,” he held out his hand. “I’m Geno. Who are you?”

Genocide Sans Gaster.

Genocide Sans.

Genocide.

Geno .

Huh, cute.

Seeing as of how the other was making this easier for him, he dispelled his weapon and slowly reached out with a hand of his own. Chilling grin stretching wide, he chuckled.

“Death.” He introduced just as he curled his fingers around bone.

…

…

…

Geno blinked, then tore his hand from his grasp as he stumbled back. “Death?” he hissed, socket narrowed and flashing a red-blue dual tone. “As in the grim reaper? That Death?”

Find me.

Find me!

FIND ME!

He did. He did. He did.

Stunned, he stared at his hand.

“What do you want with me?!”

Slowly, his gaze slid back towards the other.

Find me.

Find me!

FIND ME!

He found something , alright.

“Answer me!”

Quietly, he eyed the skeleton that should be dead twice over, a bit of wonder in his gaze. At his side, warmth lingered on his hand.

I found you.

I found you!

I FOUND YOU!

He found someone . Someone special …

...and, he decided as he watched the other flush in anger, he wanted to keep him.

Geno, huh?

Chapter Text

Red, he decided, was a beautiful color.

There was no doubt that it was an intense color—a hue representing extremes—but, he mused as he gracefully spun around an attack, that didn’t change the fact that it was really quite…

“I said leave!” The Sans— Geno , he reminded himself—shouted, red bleeding into blue in his glowing socket. “You’re not welcomed here!”

...pretty.

Gracefully stepping around multiple attacks and vanishing just in time to avoid the slew of bones that erupted from the ground, Death remained silent as he continued to advance; the pole-arm he expertly yet absently wielded twirling at his side to fend off more hits. When the sharp, high sound of a blaster began to squeal from behind him, he paused and tilted his head back to blink at the impressive creature-like attack before easily sidestepping the white-hot beam of power. Briefly, the glow of the bright attack illuminated the darkness they fought in and he found his head tilting in interest at the way the light made the other’s angry flush shine .

Taking advantage of the other’s rapid blinking—was he not use to such brightness, he wondered—he darted forward and closed the distance between them between one blink and the next. “Red magic runs hotter than others, doesn’t it?” he casually questioned, a wisp of blue trailing after the arc of his blade as it cut through the air. Geno dodged with a last-minute step backwards but Death didn’t allowed him a single moment of respite and quickly stepped into his space again. “I suppose that makes sense. It’s such a passionate color, after all.”

“Are...are you fucking flirting ?!” Enraged, the other disappeared only to fire off a wave of sharp white attacks the second he reappeared a few feet away. “Is this just some kind of joke to you?!”

In a way? Yes. The other skeleton—Geno, he corrected himself again—had come close to landing a hit quite a few times but it was a little funny that he actually seemed to think he would leave this confrontation alive.

Every soul that fought against their fates did so with the belief that Death was something that could be overcome. They attacked and attacked and attacked until they gasped for air and exhaustion dripped down their brows. Then, they grew pale with horror as they realized that his chest did not heave and his skull did not glisten and that, while they could attack no more, he still could. When battling inevitably turned to begging and begging turned to hateful slurs, he remained cold in the face of their anger and fear; his sockets void of pity just as they were void of light and his scythe masterfully steady as it cut the soul from their bodies. Geno had far more promise than most who had attempted to escape him before but he could see the way he was beginning to slow as the battle dragged on as well as the little blood-like drops of sweat collecting on his flush bone.

How long had they been fighting for, he distractedly questioned, going through the motions of avoid, avoid, attack, avoid almost lazily as he attempted to estimate the time between the other’s current attacks and the very first one the bloodied skeleton had shot at his head. Time didn’t seem to work in this strange, dark place and he soon found that he couldn’t decide if mere minutes had gone by or entire days. Either way, it didn’t really matter. Years could have passed them by since the start of their battle and it still would have felt too short. Millennium wouldn’t even be enough, he decided, a little upset at the realization that his hand was once again cool.

He wasn’t ready to say goodbye to that warmth.

When a large wall of bones shot up and around the other skeleton, Death smiled. Geno would throw up a wall, he would break through it, and the smaller would unleash a handful of smaller attacks...it was a pattern.

Patterns in battles were dangerous.

Using the cover the other unknowingly provided for him, he allowed his scythe to vanish into nothingness just as he stepped through a shortcut that led to him standing behind the dangerously unaware skeleton. Geno was too busy glaring at the wall before him and too confident in the back and forth Death had purposefully established to consider just how open he was from be—

In a blur of movement, his hand shot out and grasped a surprisingly skinny wrist and, stunned, his wide, void gaze slowly slid from the sharpened edge of the bone a mere hair’s breadth away from his sternum to the bright, angry gaze of the other skeleton holding it.

“Did you really think I’d let myself get comfortable around you?” Geno hissed, attempting to tug his arm away. In response, Death silently tightened his grip around the other’s carpals to ensure he stayed put. “I knew you were trying to lure me into a trap with that pattern, asshole.” Again, he tried to pull himself free. “Let me go!”

As close as he now was, he observed that Geno’s angry flush wasn’t just red. It was a soft, nearly unnoticeable pink, too, the darling hue a soft dusting around the edges of the angry color. Bright, intense red and soft, subtle pink. How lovely.

“Why do you keep fighting?” He murmured, reaching up with his free hand to grasp the bone the other held. When his hand met the attack, he didn’t even flinch at the sharp pain that came from touching something with violent intent from it. Staring deeply into the widening gaze of the other, he crushed the bone in his hand and stepped closer to his captive once it dispersed. “You’re tired.” The exhaustion was clear in the other’s eye and Geno was both sweating and panting, but the lack of bones and blasters following his wrist being caught was the most telling sign of all. He was out of magic. “You can’t escape me, Ge-no.” he drawled, dragging out the other’s name. “Why don’t you just give in?”

“Fuck. You.” Geno growled, struggling against his unrelenting grip and all but snarling when his other wrist was caught too. “Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you!”

“Did you know...” With a sharp tug, the other fell against him and Death’s voice dipped into a low, sensual purr. “...that red is associated with seduction?”

“Let me go!” Magic sputtering in his socket and too low to use for battle, the other resorted to physical attacks and angrily rammed his knee up into his pelvis. Despite the lack of summoned anatomy, it hurt. Years of practice in masking his emotions made it easy to hide the pain; however, and he didn’t so much as flinch as he kept his hold on Geno. “Let me go, you fucking creep!”

“I can’t.” He wanted to keep the other skeleton but it was obvious by the volume of his SOUL’s cries and the strength of the tugging in his chest that Geno’s reaping was long overdue. “You seemed to have avoided falling into my grasp for quite some time. Now that I finally have you, I can’t just let you go.” His touch alone wouldn’t work on this one though, so he readjusted his hold until one arm was tight around the other, keeping Geno trapped in his embrace while his other hand reached behind the other skeleton. “If it helps at all,” he murmured, magic flaring in his socket and scythe appearing in hand. “this won’t hurt.”

“Let me go!” The other shouted, pushing against him desperately. “Fuck, let me go! Let me go!”

Unmoved, he pressed the cold, biting blade of his weapon against the back of the other’s neck, not yet forceful enough to end him but the resolve to do so clear with the steadiness of the weapon. 

“Red is the color of violence as well, and violence...” Pulling Geno in more tightly against him when his squirming proved a little difficult to handle, thus muffling his shouting against his robe, he moved the pole-arm away as he readied to swing it towards them. “violence so often leads to Death .”

He yanked the blade down, aiming for Geno’s neck…

...and froze just before the delicate bone could be cut.

His chest was...wet?

“I’m sorry, Paps. I’m sorry.” Geno whispered, hands clenched in the dark material of his clothing as he pressed himself closer, unconsciously seeking comfort in his final moments. “I tried. I promise I tried. I’m sorry .”

Defeated souls cried all the time, he reminded himself. Tears meant nothing.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” The other repeated, the words muffled as he pressed his face further into his sternum. “I’m sorry.”

Strange...

...he seemed...smaller.

Had the other been this short at the start of their fight?

“I’m sorry I failed.” Geno cried. He buried his face as much as he good in Death's cloak and the god stiffened as the other's skull tucked itself perfectly under his chin. A little unwillingly, the arm trapping the smaller skeleton loosened into a softer hold. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you, Paps.”

…

…

…

Slowly, he released the other and stepped away.

“I…” He began, unsure for the first time in literal ages. “I’m not…”

“Do it!” Geno snapped, crumpling to the floor and scrubbing his tears away angrily. More fell to replace to them; however, and he curled forward to hide his face instead. “I...I fucking failed! I thought I could—” angry, he cut himself off. “I can’t beat you. I tried b-but...but I can’t , so just...just do it. End me.” Brokenly, he laughed. “Maybe I’ll get to see my brother.”

“...I thought you didn’t want to die?” That’s what began the battle, after all. Upon learning his name, the other had refused his presence and made it clear he didn’t plan to die anytime soon. “Why the change of heart?”

“Are you fucking deaf?” The other, smaller skeleton snapped. He...it was strange to see him defeated. During battle the other had seemed so large with how viciously he fought but now? Now all that power and determination had faded and Geno...he looked to small. Meek, he’d say if it hadn’t been for the fire in that watery socket. "I can't win!"

Worrying, he found himself wanted to reach out for the other again. Not to trap but to...to hold.

“I can’t beat you! I...I can’t...I can’t…” Breath hitching, he gripped the red scarf he wore and sobbed harder. As he cried, his anger seemed to grow as though he were infuriated by the sobs raking through him. Red was the color of anger, wasn't it? “I can’t beat you...I couldn’t beat them ...stars, I…” again, he forced out that rough, broken laugh. “I’m such a fucking failure. Nothing...nothing works. Nothing I try...nothing I do matters . Just...just kill me, Death.” A little hysterical, he cackled. “Stars, I tried so hard escape death and now I’m asking Death to kill me. It was all for nothing in the end, wasn’t it? Fuck,” drained by the battle and exhausted by his tears, Geno pressed his face against his knees for a few seconds to steel himself. With a deep, stuttering breath, he lifted his head…

...and smiled, tears the color of blood dripping from his eye.

“I...I’m ready.” The lie was given away by the way he shook and gripped his scarf tighter. “You won, Death. You can have me.”

You can have me.

Find me.

You can have me.

Find me!

You can have me.

FIND ME!

His scythe shook. No, wait, it was the hand holding it that was shaking.

“I...” Geno whispered, closing his eyes and bracing himself. “I’m yours.”

I’m yours.

Find me.

I’m yours.

Find me!

I’m yours.

FIND ME!

When the silence dragged on and Geno confusedly opened his eyes…

...he found that Death was gone.

You can have me.

I’m yours.

You can have me.

I’m yours.

You can have me.

I’m yours.

“Fuck.” Death whispered, wide, dark sockets staring blankly at his bedroom floor. Shakily, he pressed a hand to his chest where his robe was still damp with Geno’s tears and felt the way his sternum throbbed with the pounding of his SOUL, the blue glow clear through the dark material as his heart raced. A little hysteric, he laughed. “Asgore is going to kill me.”

Red was the color of Geno’s angry flush.

Red was the color of Geno’s sad, defeated tears.

You can have me.

I’m yours.

You can have me.

I’m yours.

You can have me.

I’m yours.

Red...

...was the color of love.

“Fuck.”

Chapter Text

A cold blade pressed itself against Geno’s neck.

He didn’t bother with flinching.

“Have you come to finish the job?” He questioned dully, eye light focused on the little black thread he was playing with. Picking at your clothing when it was all you had was a terrible idea but another genocide began recently and Geno found himself needing something, anything , to distract himself with. Unfortunately, it seems like he got his wish. “Or are you just here to bother me again?”

“You didn’t jump.” Death murmured, completely ignoring his words in favor of pushing his scythe against Geno’s neck harder. When a thin line of red split the fragile vertebrae and all he did was blink in response, the would-be executioner sighed. “Do you not fear your death anymore, little Genocide?”  Slowly, the scythe slid up from Geno’s neck so that the flat portion of the blade was pressing under his chin. With a bit of pressure, the seated skeleton’s skull was coaxed into tipping back so that the glitch could meet the god’s gaze. “Do you not fear your Death?”

There was an emphasis there, Geno knew. He chose to ignore it.

“What is there to fear?” After much thought, Geno had decided that dying wouldn’t be the scariest thing he’d face. It would be the worst of all his failures, yes, but it’d be easier to handle than watching his brother die again. That being said, it didn’t seem as though he’d be dying anytime soon. “You won’t kill me today.” He said with a confidence in the fact that still astounded him. “Just like you didn’t do so yesterday, or the day before that, or any of the other times you threatened to do so.”

Silently, Death observed him. The endless voids of his sockets made the god’s stare a difficult weight to bare but Geno didn’t dare look away. His weakness had been revealed to the other once with his tears and he be damned before he allowed himself to show it again by backing down from that impossibly dark gaze; even if those twin pools of shadow sent a disturbed chill down his spine. Natural grin twisted into a sneer, he held firm until the other skeleton blinked and sent his weapon away, the wicked scythe disappearing into nothingness.

“Don’t get too confident in your survival, little Genocide” The deity warned before lazily toppling over so that was lounging in midair. “I’ll do my job and end you one day.” He said with a yawn. “Today; however, I’ll let you live. We can celebrate your continued existence together.”

“I’d prefer death over your company.” Geno growled.

The god’s chuckle was deep and amused as he playfully drifted in circles around the other. “They’re the same thing, little Genocide.”

“Stop calling me that!” He snapped in annoyance. This was not his first time demanding that. “I won’t tell you again, Death.”

“You said that yesterday.” The other, taller skeleton teased. “You have yet to do anything about it though, little Ge-no-cide~”

With a huff and a sharp crack, Geno left his spot under the beam of light and reappeared further into the darkness of the save screen, far, far away from his headache. “Go away.”

“So cruel.” Death sighed, the words making Geno jump when they came from just behind him. Before he could whirl around to face the deity, arms wrapped around him and dragged him backwards into a firm rib cage. “Haven’t I been kind to you, Ge-no?” The god questioned in low purr, easily working around his struggling to place the smaller onto his lap. “The least you could do is welcome me to stay awhile and chat.”

“This isn’t chatting, you fucking creep!” Geno hissed, pushing at the arms settling around his waist. “This...this is sexual harassment! Let me go!” Surprisingly, the other listened and, instantly, Geno scrambled off his lap and a few feet away, his expression dark as he glared at the god. “Just...just fuck off!”

Death didn’t reply but disappeared all the same.

Sexual harassment

Sexual harassment

Sexual harassment

Smacking his forehead onto the kitchen table with a great, big sigh, he grumbled and attempted to become one with the coffee-stained wooden surface. “Real smooth there, idiot. You got yourself called a creep and he thinks you’re trying to molest him now. Stars, what am I doing wrong?”

Lifting his head from the table with yet another sigh, he carefully looked around to ensure that his brother wasn’t around before opening the connection to his inventory and pulling out a magazine. Thumbing through all the brightly colored post-its sticking out from the pages,he tracked down the one he was looking for and flipped open to the page he required; his sockets trained intently on the words.

“Sometimes, love makes you a little silly. You’ll laugh a little too hard, say the wrong things, and maybe get a little tongue tied when around your crush, but don’t worry, ladies! That’s what body language is for!” he read, muttering the words under his breath. “If you can’t tell your crush how you feel, then show them! A coy lean in? A flirty hand on their arm? Anything works! Our motto here at Tween Queen Magazine is ‘The Bolder The Better’ so don’t be afraid to go in for that cute cuddle if you see your chance!” Scowling, he crumpled up the vibrant, glittering magazine and tossed it in the trash. “Cute cuddle, my ass.” he grumbled. “I knew I shouldn’t have gotten the newest issue after the last magazine lied to me about petnames.” Feeling a little defeated, he smushed his face against the table again. “This is hopeless.”

He should just kill Geno, he knew. Asgore was going to throw the biggest fit the realm had ever seen once he eventually learned that there was an overdue soul out in the world and, after all the lecturing, the Kind would order him to finish his work. Either now or later, Geno was going to die. It was unavoidable, really, so letting him live was pointless. Cruel even, seeing as of how the other, smaller skeleton was so certain he’d never go through with it.

“He’ll look surprised, I bet.” He said to himself. “I’ve gone to see him everyday for a month now and every visit I’ve tried to kill him but never ended up going through with it. When I finally reap him…”

They weren’t friends, he knew. Geno didn’t expect anything good or kind from him but the other Sans had foolishly stopped expecting his death by his hand. When he reaped him, Geno would be shocked. His socket would widen and his eye light would extinguish and maybe, just maybe, he’d look a little betrayed. Oddly enough, he could easily envision the expression on the other’s face.

He didn’t like it.

“...Asgore hasn’t found out yet.” He muttered, attempting to wave away the distressing picture in his head. “I...I’ll let Geno live just a little longer. Just for another week. Maybe two.”

His stupid crush would fade soon.

Three weeks later, he found himself being ignored as he sat across from Geno in the smaller’s strange, dark home. Since his disastrous attempt at cuddling, the other skeleton had taken to ignoring him completely whenever he popped up for a visit. He was use to people ignoring him though, so it was fine. The newest issue of his magazine suggested humor and Geno’s silence was a good way of testing out if the other found his jokes funny.

Geno had yet to laugh.

A little discouraged, he tried again. “What’s blonde and dead in the closet?” he asked, unsurprised at the lack of a response but feeling downtrodden all the same. “The hide and seek champion from 1955!”

“... Pfft. ”

Sockets wide, he stared at Geno.

“Ha...haha…” Hand pressed to his grin, the smaller skeleton attempted to muffle his laughter. It didn’t work. Snickering, he simply turned his head away to hide his grin. “T-that was so...so...” He snickered, unwilling amused by the stupid, dark humor. Stars, his sense of humor was so shitty. “stupid! That was s-so stupid!”

“You’re laughing.” He whispered, stunned. “You...you’re laughing!”

“Shut up, no I’m not!” Geno snapped, chuckles cutting the sentence apart. “I’m just breathing weird!”

“You think I’m funny!”

“No I don’t!”

“Hey, hey, Geno? What’s the last thing to go through a bug’s mind when it hits a windshield?”

“...What?” The other asked, voice reluctant but natural grin still full of humor.

“His ass!”

It took a moment, but the morbid joke eventually sank in and the other, smaller skeleton snorted. Loudly . Then, he broke down into laughter once again. “That’s so bad!”

When he snorted again, the god stared.

Stars, that was adorable.

"Pfft, haha! Hahaha!"

Unable to help himself, he smiled.

Maybe those magazines knew what they were talking about after all.

Death was smiling.

'Cute.' Geno thought absently as he began cackling at another horrible joke.

…

…

…

…

…

…

Wait, what?!

Chapter Text

No matter how much she loved Papyrus, Undyne would never be able to get over how freaking creepy the walk to his house was.

The large, blackened forest that surrounded the home of the gods of death was always dark. It didn’t matter if the dead trees had no leaves to provide shade or if the sun was shining the brightest it possibly could. Hell, being able to look up and see the bright blue sky and glowing sun didn’t change the fact that light just didn’t make its way into the dark stillness of the forest.

Undyne wasn’t afraid of the dark though, so that wasn’t her issue with the place. What really got to her was the silence. You see, the forest was so quiet it almost seemed as though it were voiding all sound. She couldn’t hear the birds that would pass overhead, the sound of the wind, or even the heavy thuds of her footsteps. It was a silence that was so prominent it was almost loud and, unnervingly, it reminded her of battlefields after a war; barren and so, so disturbingly quiet .

Unwillingly, she shivered and picked up her pace.

Part of her wish she brought Alphys along but her wife was busy with research and this wasn’t exactly a social call.

News kept going around lately saying that the eldest death god was acting strangely. Personally, Undyne thought the guy was always a little strange, what with his blank gaze and weird addiction to coffee but the rumors were starting to concern Asgore and the king himself had requested she drop in for a subtle interrogation. Admittedly, subtle wasn’t her specialty but the king asked her directly and she admired the big guy too much to say no, so here she was; walking through a creepy forest to see her best friend’s creepy brother.

Sighing in relief once she finally made it through the last few trees and both sunlight and sound came rushing back, Undyne made sure to wipe away the nervous sweat from her brow before making her way to the front door of an unassuming home. Paps wasn’t home, she knew. The guy was a hard worker and probably wouldn’t be back home for at least another five hours. That being said, pretending to wait for him for an impromptu cooking lesson would probably be the best method of getting let inside the house. Sans was a bit of an antisocial bastard but Undyne couldn’t deny that he loved his brother and hoped he would suffer some awkward company for his sake until the younger returned.

Cracking her neck and knuckles as though preparing for a fight, she knocked on the door.

Instantly, it swung open and she was met with Death’s dark glare. “Finally! I’ve been waiting for my magazine for weeks! I thought mail gods were supposed to be fas- oh.” He blinked “Damnit, you’re not my mail.”

“Hey, punk.” She greeted with a strained grin. He was already doing that annoyingly creepy stare and smile combo. “Is Paps home? I got a new recipe I want to show him!”

“No.”

“Do you know when he’ll be back?”

“No.”

“...”

“...”

“...Are you going to invite me in so I can wait for him?”

“No.”

Okay, relying on his brotherly affection wasn’t going to work. Time for plan B.

Taking caution to avoid touching him, the goddess of death pushed herself pass the other, shorter god and forced her way into the home with a wide, challenging grin. “Too bad, punk! You’re just going to have to put up with my company until your brother gets back! Now,” taking a seat on the couch, she looked at him with a threatening stare “aren’t you going to offer me some tea? Papyrus keeps my favorite next to the fridge!”

Twitching, Sans shut the door and wordlessly made his way to the kitchen.

Huh, she didn’t think he’d actually do it.

A hour later, Sans was still in the damn kitchen and Undyne hadn’t gotten her tea.

Trying to push down her temper—Al would give her The Disappointed Look™ if she broke another wall or couch—the goddess of war stood from the comfy sofa and made her way to the kitchen. Surprisingly, Sans was still there but seemed engrossed in...a notebook? Yeah, that was a notebook. Judging by the pen in his hand and the frustrated expression on his face, the god was attempting to get some kind of work done.

Suddenly, he seemed to get an idea and his expression cleared, a smile taking over his previous annoyed frown as he began madly scribbling something down. Scarily enough, the smile wasn’t one of the teasing smug grins she had seen before. No, it was...it was bright and happy and really freaking weird to see. That was a Papyrus level smile right there! What the hell?!

Wait.

What…

What was that sound?

“Hmm, hm hmmm~ hm hm hmm hm hmmm~” Sans hummed, eyes on his paper as he wrote and smile still so unnervingly bright. “ But I~ can’t~ help~ falling in love with you~”

What the hell?!

“Are you singing love songs ?!” She blurted, eye wide and mouth agape as she watched Sans jump. “Holy shit, you are, aren’t you?!”

“Shit, you’re still here?” Sans grumbled, discreetly coveting his notebook with an arm. “I thought you would have left by now.”

“Paps isn’t home yet, is he? I’m not leaving until he is!”

Annoyed, Sans scowled. When she pulled out the chair across from him and plopped right down, his scowl deepened. “He can call you when he gets back. Don’t you have something better to do?”

“Nah, Alphys is busy.”

At her comment, Sans froze. “...You two are married.” He murmured. It didn’t sound like a question but she wasn’t sure why else he would be staring that so, confused yet proud, she nodded. “You two dated before getting married, right?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“...Did you flirt before dating?”

“Yeeeeah…?”

Suddenly looking a lot less annoyed with her company, the eldest god of death stared at her intently with a strange, hesitant expression on his face. “...How did you flirt?”

“Okay, why the sudden weird interest in my love life?” She asked, more than just a little weirded out. “You’ve been acting strange lately, Sans, but you’ve never been interested in Alphys and I before and it’s freaking me out.”

“What? I haven’t been acting strange!” The other god protested. “And maybe I’m just trying to be nice?”

“You weren’t going to invite me in just a hour ago.” She responded, flatly. “That’s not exactly nice.”

“Okay, okay,” Sans sighed “how about this? If you answer my questions, I’ll answer yours so you can go tell Asgore I’m fine and that he doesn’t need to worry. Sound good?”

Undyne nearly choked on her own spit. “How did you-“

“You know Papyrus’ schedule better than I do, Undyne.” Sans said with a flat expression. “Also, I’m not an idiot. You’re usually Asgore’s first choice when it comes to bothering me about my work habits.”

Well, she couldn’t really deny that.

“What do you want to know?” She asked with tense grin. She wasn’t great at losing, okay?

“How did you flirt with Alphys?” Sans asked seriously. “You two got married so whatever flirting you did must have worked.”

Thinking back to her so-called flirting, Undyne coughed; embarrassed. “I, uh, I asked her about the weather.”

Astonishingly, Sans was actually writing that down. “What would you have done if there was no weather where she lived?”

“There’s always weather?”

“But what if there wasn’t?”

“Well, I guess I would have…” man, asking about the weather had really been her main way of flirting. “...tried small talk? Or, uh, compliments. Alphys had this one dress that was AMAZING and I let her know I thought so every time she wore it!”

“Small talk.” The god muttered as he wrote the words. “Compliments.” Pausing, he stared at his notes with a thoughtful expression. “...blood is pretty cute, I guess.”

What.

The.

Hell.

Before she could ask about that , Sans continued with another question. “Okay, so, hypothetically, if you tried to kill Alphys the first time you met, what would you have done to get her interested in you? Oh, but keep in mind that you made her laugh recently! And she actually talks to you now when you show up instead of just ignoring you!”

“...Sans,” she began slowly. “why do I feel like we’re not talking about Alphys?”

“Who else would we be talking about?” The other deity asked, looking so confused that she almost believed it was an honest question.

Undyne knew a lot about battles though, and she could tell this was one she wouldn’t win. “Never mind.” She grumbled. “And I don’t know. That’s...really weird and specific. I guess I’d get her apology flowers?”

“...Let’s say that, hypothetically, you getting her flowers was impossible. What else would you try?”

“Well, there’s a bunch of other things Al likes that I could give her instead.” She mused, recalling the time she got her wife a limited edition figurine. “Chocolate is a classic. Alphys is a sucker for homemade chocolate, actually. It makes her feel like she’s in an anime.”

“Chocolate.” Again with the notes. “Got it. Now,” expression serious, the god leaned in close over the table. Seeing that he was the god of death , Undyne leaned away. “...how long did you wait before getting physical?”

Had Undyne been able to touch him, she would have suplexed him into next year. “ What? ”

“Oh, not, like, sex physical. Even I know that usually doesn’t happen until after the flirting. Unfortunately.” It was a little worrying how his nose started bleeding. Sans didn’t exactly have one, after all. “Say that, hypothetically, the first time you tried to cuddle you got called a creep. Is that a sign you’re moving too fast?”

“Wipe your nose, punk.” She demanded. “Also, are you talking about cuddling before dating? I guess everyone is different but it took ages just to get Al to hold my hand without fainting…and that was after we were a couple, too. She’s super shy so trying to cuddle before we were a thing would have been impossible.”

“Shy, huh?” Writing the word and circling it about a dozen times, Sans finally put down his pen and looked over his work. After a moment, he nodded and gathered the notebook. “Okay, I think I’m good on the questions for now.”

Good, they were seriously weird. “Okay, my turn now. Asgore wants to—“

“Oh, would you look at that! A bunch of people are dying!” Notebook in hand, the god stood with a wide, teasing grin. “Looks like I need to go, goddess.”

“Sans, wait—“

“Bye!”

With that, he was gone.

“UGH, YOU ASSHOLE!”

“Here.”

For years to come Geno would deny the loud, high pitched shriek he made when Death appeared inches away from his face. Eye wide, he stumbled back a few steps and placed a hand over his racing heart. “Don’t do that!”

“You don’t jump when I pull a weapon out on you but you jump when I don’t? You’re pretty confusing, little Genocide.”

“I said stop calling me that.” He growled.

As always, his complaints about the name went ignored. “Here,” Death repeated, holding out some kind of box. “For you.”

“I don’t want it.” He grumbled. “Take it back.”

Frowning, the god nudged the box against his chest. “Take it.”

“No.”

“Take it!”

“No!”

“Genoooooo!” The god whined. “I picked it out just for you!”

“That makes me want it less!”

Scowling, Death carefully moved the box so that it was held against his side with one arm. With a flash of blue, he had his scythe in hand and was pointing the blade at Geno threateningly. “Accept the gift.”

Eye light flaring his red-blue tone, Geno growled. “No.”

For a long moment that felt like an eternity, the two stared each other down. Then, with a sigh, Death let his weapon fade and deflated with a sulk. “Please?” He begged, voice small. “I promise it’s not anything bad!”

Actually feeling a little bad about how defeated the other looked, Geno sighed and took the box with a small nod. “Fine.”

With nowhere to rest the box, Geno simply sat on the floor and placed it on the ground before him. Seconds later, Death plopped himself down right in front of him and leaned into his personal space with a wide, eager grin. “Open up, little Genocide~”

“Never say that again.” Stars, that cheery, sing-song voice paired with the annoying nickname made the words sound creepy. Leaning away from the creepy god, Geno picked at the tape holding the plain cardboard box shut and peeled back the flaps. “...Oh.” He murmured, pleasantly surprised. “This is…”

“Chocolate!” Death finished, unnervingly dark sockets trained on his face intently. “I wasn’t sure what you’d like so I just grabbed a bit of everything. Oh, and to wash it down…” digging a hand through the intimidating amount of chocolate, the god beamed as he pulled out a bottle of—“

“Ketchup!” He admittedly squealed, eye light briefly flashing into the shape of a star. “Holy shit, that’s...I haven't had ketchup in ages!”

Seeming a little dazed for some reason, the god remained silent and simply held out the bottle. Not even caring that it was probably rude, Geno snatched it out of his hands and eagerly unscrewed the cap. There wasn’t a trash so he settled for flicking the little paper tab to the side before pressing the unsealed bottle to his teeth and taking a long sip.

Oh.

Oh stars.

“It’s so good.” He moaned.

Oh.

Oh stars.

Geno was so cute .

Well, he was cute until he moaned, that is.

Shifting a little uncomfortably and trying to discreetly cover his lap with his hands, he cleared his suddenly dry throat. “Um, do you like it?” He asked, slightly surprised at how quickly the smaller was draining the bottle. “I, uh, the uh…” Small talk and compliments. Small talk and compliments. Small talk and compliments. “I went to the store for coffee.” He informed the other skeleton. "I, uh, I like coffee. A lot. The check-out line was kind of long though, so I did a little roaming while I waited for it saw the bottles. Sans usually like condiments but I wasn’t really sure what you’d like.”

Amazingly, Geno actually looked interested in what he was saying. He was still getting use to the fact that the smaller wasn’t ignoring him anymore and seeing him actually listening made his chest feel funny. Shit, was he getting sick?

“Why’d you pick ketchup?” Geno questioned, still sipping at the red condiment. Oh. Oh no. He had a little smear of ketchup near the corner of his grin.

That was adorable!

Unprepared for such beauty, his mind went blank. “Well, uh, you see…” Small talk and compliments. He tried small talk and it seemed to be going well so...compliments? He could do this! “I went with ketchup because, well, the...the red reminded me of your cute blood!”

Yes! Smooth!

Only, Geno seemed a little disturbed.

“What the actual fuck, Death?” The smaller grumbled around his bottle of ketchup. “Cute blood ? Are you fucking with me again, asshole?”

“No! I just, I mean I, uh, I…” Swallowing nervously, he tried again. “It’s red! Your blood is red too and I, um, I...it’s yours? Your blood, I mean. Your blood is yours and it looks...nice. Because...because it’s yours.” Fiddling with his sleeve, he meekly added, “You make blood look nice.”

Unfortunately, it didn’t seem like his compliments were working. “What. The. Fuck.”

“How’s the weather?!” He blurted, desperate.

“There’s no weather here, idiot!”

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“I, uh, um,” he stuttered, starting to feel a little hot under the collar. “I…”

“Death, you’re being fucking weir-“

“Call me Reaper!” The god interrupted, latching onto the name in an attempt to get himself back on track. “Death is, well, it’s a title. Kind of. It’s a name too but most people just call me Sans or Reaper so, um, I’d like you to call me Reaper. Um, please.” Shit, was it too soon to be giving away one of his preferred names? Trying to cuddle hadn’t worked out so what if Geno thought he was trying to get too personal by offering his name?! “I mean, if you don’t want to call me that it’s fine. Death is just a little…” Distancing. Unfriendly. “...professional?”

He was fucking this up big time, wasn’t he?

“You’re so fucking weird.” Geno complained, boredly picking at the label on his ketchup bottle. “Honestly, Death, you’re acting—”

“Ohlookslikesomeonedied!” He babbled, deciding that things were going downhill and he needed to escape now . “Gottagobye!”

With that, he vanished.

“—strange.” Geno finished, frowning at the now empty spot before him. “...Bye, I guess?”

Stars, the god was such a weirdo.

…

…

…

But kind of nice, too, he thought, unknowingly smiling at the box of chocolates as he fiddled with the empty bottle in his hands.

“Reaper, huh?” He murmured, reaching out for a bar of dark chocolate only to snort when he noticed it was shaped like a coffin. Cute. “Reaper.” The glitch repeated as he unwrapped the bar. “Reeeaper. Reap-er.”

He kind of liked it.

You’re so fucking weird, Geno said.

Weird.

Weird.

Weird.

Curled up on his bed, Reaper shoved his face into a pillow and screamed .

What was he doing wrong?!

Chapter Text

Hesitantly, Geno looked at himself in the mirror.

Hidden from the public and kept safe from judging eyes in the tiny dressing room he stood in, the small, glitchy skeleton nervously smiled at his reflection and did a little experimental twirl. When flared out fabric settled back into place, he gently smoothed out what little wrinkles there were and twisted this way and that in order to get the best look at himself he could manage. After a few minutes, his small smile grew a bit, confidence in the curve of his grin as he admired the way the pretty material looked against his skin.

He felt good.

Blushing, he tried out a seductive pose.

He felt sexy .

Noticing that the white bandages wrapped around his torso were starting to color with blood, Geno hurriedly stripped himself of the revealing clothing he wore in favor of one of Reaper’s black hoodies and a simple pair of shorts. He was hoping that the bandages would hold out a little longer but it seemed like he was going to have to stop and change the medical wrap if he wanted to try anything else on. That being said, Geno didn’t think it was likely that he’d find anything else he’d want to buy. Not in the store he was currently in, at least, because, well, because he was pretty happy with what he already found.

Glancing at where the tiny outfit hung on a hanger, he smiled. He was nervous, yes, but excited all the same.

He felt good about this.

Making sure he wasn’t leaving anything behind and double checking that he had Reaper’s wallet in his pocket alongside his cellphone, Geno took hold of the hanger and left the changing room. He was good on clothing—if you could call it that—but they had a decent selection of stockings he wanted to check out in case any caught his eye. Maybe some gloves, too.

Feeling good, he made his way over to the rack he was looking for and began browsing through the options. Was lace paired with more lace too much? Unsure, he lifted the hanger and held it next to the thigh-highs he was eyeing.

“Wow, I didn’t know skeletons could be fat.” Someone whispered from behind him.

“Huh,” A disappointed voice spoke, rising from his memories and forcing itself to the forefront of his mind. “I’d didn’t think you’d be...well, big. ”

Flinching, Geno bit his tongue in place of the lips he didn’t have and tried to shove the memory back down. Ignore it, he told himself, referring both to the words echoing in his head and the snickers he could hear. Part of him wanted to just dispel his body but the bandages he was wearing were applied over it so that they wouldn’t tighten when he needed his ecto to ensure the clothes fit. If he dropped his form now, not only would the bandages loosen and fail to soak up his blood, but it would be so obvious that he was reacting to the words being spoken. He just had to ignore it.

“That oversized hoodie really isn’t doing anything to hide that stomach.” Another person said with a cruel kind of amusement. “Why are they even in this store? No one is going to want to see them in anything sold here.”

“Can’t you just...summon the important part? You don’t really need anything else, right?”

Nearly splitting the magic forming his tongue with how hard he was biting, Geno urged himself to stop listening and bravely continued his shopping, much less enthusiastic but unwilling to admit defeat by leaving. Deciding that he didn’t like the lacy stockings, he turned his attention to a pair that were solid black. The material would look sheer once stretched, he knew, but he didn’t think that would look bad. Smiling a bit, he reached out for them.

“Really? They want to bring attention to those thighs?”

“C’mon, Sans. I won’t be able to fit in between your legs with how big your thighs are.”

Ignore them.

Ignore your memories too, Geno.

Grabbing the small pack, he began searching for a belt to wear with them.

…

…

…

Oh, they didn’t have his size in the color he wanted.

“Hey, why are you so upset?”

That was fine. He’d get another one instead.

“Look, it’s not my fault you’re fucking fat, okay?”

The white would look nice.

“Don’t be such a fucking crybaby, Sans. I’ll still fuck you. Just...get rid of everything we don’t need. I won’t be able to stay hard if I have to watch you jiggle everytime I thrust.”

Staring blankly at the clothing he held, Geno desperately attempted to hold onto the confidence he had felt in the changing room. The little outfit was his size, the stockings were his size, the white belt was his size... they were meant for him . They were just...just a little bigger than the other sizes.

“It’s a good thing they’re getting the black one. They’ll be harder to see if the lights are off.”

“You know what? Fine. Keep the damn body. I won’t have to look at you if we do it doggy style.”

The familiar taste of iron filled his mouth when his teeth sank too deeply into his tongue. “Ow.” he whispered, gaze downcast.

Humiliated by his past and present alike, Geno clutched onto what he picked out and did his best to make his walk to the cash register look less like the retreat it felt like. On the way there, he passed two beautiful, thin women—one a monster, one human—and ducked his head to hide his ashamed, embarrassed flush when they snickered at him. He could feel their eyes on his back as he purchased the clothing and felt his face grow hotter when they audibly gasped at his deep voice when he nervously requested a discreet bag.

“Oh. My. God. That’s a guy!”

“You know, for a man...you’re a real pussy, Sans. Why don’t you just leave?”

Quietly thanking the cashier, Geno took his bag and bolted out the store.

Slipping into the bedroom once he was sure Reaper was busy in the shower, Geno quietly dug through the closet until he found the unmarked white, plastic bag hidden under a pile of old shirts and robes. Double checking that the door was shut, he slid out of his clothes and summoned his ecto once naked; soft red flesh stretching from his throat all the way down to his wrist and ankles. A little unsure of himself, he turned his back to the mirror for now and began to slide into the soft, black babydoll lingerie. Once the top and matching panties were in place and the garter belt was on after a bit of struggling, he bent over to slip on the thigh-highs and clipped them into place one at a time. With nothing else to dress in, he bit his sore tongue and counted to three in his head.

One…

Two…

Three!

Geno spun around.

Smiling gleefully, Sans blushed a pretty, cool blue as he leaned into his date. Originally, he had been a little nervous about being set up with someone he had never met before, but the information Alphys managed to find on the guy had seemed pretty promising. A cousin of 01, one of Undyne’s guards, his date was apparently handsome, funny and interested in science. That was the whole package, right there. Their dinner date had proven those last two things correct—they had a pun-filled discussion about physics, of all things—and, well…

Sneaking a glance up at his date, Sans blushed brighter.

He was definitely handsome.

Passing by a tree where a strange, round metal device was catching the light, the skeleton discreetly shot a thumbs up at the poorly hidden camera to let Al know things were going well as he was led to his dates home.

Yeah, home .

He wasn’t usually one to jump into sex on the first date but he...he really liked this guy. Dinner had been fun and walking through the capitol had been surprisingly enjoyable due to the great company he had. His date got flirtier as the night progressed and it hadn’t off put him. Instead, Sans flirted back and found himself not wanting the night to end once their date began wrapping up, so when he was asked if he wanted to head back to his date’s place…

Well, he said yes.

Papyrus was at a sleepover at Undyne’s for the weekend and had a recording of Fluffy Bunny on his phone so he wouldn’t have to worry about his brother for tonight, or fumble through a quickie just to get home fast. No, this time, Sans had all night to enjoy himself.

“Here.” His date purred, wrapping an arm around his waist and leading him into a decent looking apartment complex. Together, they stepped into an elevator and he gasped when he was backed into a wall the moment the doors shut. “You look good in those clothes.” His date complimented, leaning down so that their faces were inches apart. “I bet you’d look better out of them, though.”

Grin stretching wider, he pushed himself up onto his tip-toes and wrapped his arms around the taller’s neck. “I guess you’re about to find out, huh?”

When the doors opened, Sans found himself being scooped up and thrown over his date’s shoulder. Laughing, he let himself hang and simply enjoyed the sight of the man’s ass in the jeans he wore. He’d definitely be touching that later. Grinning when he heard the sound of a door unlocking, he patiently waited as he was carried into the apartment and through another door before shooting his about-to-be lover a coy, flirty look the moment he was set down on a bed.

“Come here.” he murmured, reaching out for the collar of his date’s shirt to tug him down into a kiss.

From there, things blurred. That one kiss stretched on and on and on as their hands roamed and only broke when the two needed to pull away to tug off their shirts. Sans’ bones were starting to tint with magic and he eagerly shimmied out of his pants and shoes before adjusting himself on the bed to get comfortable.

“Do you mind, um, well,” this was always the embarrassing part. “hot dog or donut?”

“Either is fine.” His date said with an amused grin. Winking, he added, “I’m not a picky eater.”

Flushing at the implication in his dates word, the skeleton nodded and let his magic spread across his bones. Forming ecto always made him feel tingly and he chuckled a bit at the ticklish feeling as his stomach formed. Once everything was in place, he turned to grin up at his date.

Only, the taller man was frowning now.

“Is something wrong?” He asked worriedly.

“Huh,” his date murmured, sounding disappointed. “I didn’t think you’d be...well, big.”

Startling, he stared at the other in bafflement. “W-what?”

Slowly eyeing him up and down, his date frowned. “Look, you’re...you’re a skeleton. I was expecting a dick or a cunt, okay? Not...all that. Can’t you just...summon the important part? You don’t need anything else, right?” He asked, wrinkling his nose when his eyes landed on Sans’ chubby stomach. “You’re sexier without all that extra...flesh.” he said, but Sans could hear the word he really meant:

Weight.

“You...you don’t like my body?” He questioned, unable to hide his upset tone. Biting his tongue, he looked down at himself. “I can, uh, I can get rid of my stomach…” he offered. He…he really liked this guy. Ecto could be a little startling, he knew. Maybe they’d just have to start small. “I can do a partial formation. That’s, um, that’s just the hips and down.”

His date’s frown didn’t ease up. “C’mon, Sans. I won’t be able to fit in between your legs with how big your thighs are.”

“...T-they’re not that big…” He whispered.

“Sans, I probably couldn’t even wrap both hands around one. I have big hands, too. Here, look.”

In order to prove his point, the taller reached out and boldly circled one of his thighs with his hands. His fingers nearly touched.

Nearly.

Embarrassed, he jerked his leg from the other’s hold. “S-stop!”

“Hey, why are you so upset?” His date questioned when he saw the expression on his face. “Isn’t it better that I’m honest about my feelings?”

“Your honesty is making me feel like shit, buddy!” The smaller snapped, suddenly feeling uncomfortable in his nudity and dragging his hoodie over his body. “Y-you’re being a real asshole.”

“Look, it’s not my fault you’re fucking fat, okay?”

He flinched, the word echoing in his head. “I...I’m not fat, jackass!”

“Please.” The other snorted, rolling his eyes. “You’re not fooling anyone. If you were any rounder you’d be mistaken as pregnant.”

“Okay, seriously. S-stop.” Stars, he hated the way his voice cracked on the last word. He hate the way he could feel himself tearing up more. “You...you weren’t acting like this earlier. If you don’t want to have sex, fine. Just...j-just don’t be an ass about it.”

“Don’t be such a fucking crybaby, Sans.” His date scoffed. “I’ll still fuck you. Just...get rid of everything we don’t need. I won’t be able to stay hard if I have to watch you jiggle everytime I thrust.”

“I s-said stop!” He shouted. “S-stop poking fun at my weight! T-this...this is h-how I look! I’m not s-some...some cheap s-sex toy you can c-customize!”

Looking angry, the taller man scowled and sighed heavily, as though Sans were being the difficult one. “You know what? Fine. Keep the damn body. I won’t have to look at you if we do it doggy style.”

“Oh, f-fuck you!” Quickly brushing away the first few tears that fell, the skeleton began looking for the rest of his clothing. “I t-thought you were c-cool but I r-realize now t-that I was wrong.”

His date flipped him off. “You know, for a man...you’re a real pussy, Sans. Why don’t you just leave?”

Humiliated, Sans messily threw on his clothing and did just that.

Blinking away the memory, Geno smiled at his reflection shakily.

It fell instantly.

“Fat, huh?” He murmured, gaze dropping to his stomach and thighs. Attempting a little twirl like the one he did earlier, he flinched when the movement made his soft ecto shake a bit. No, not shake. Jiggle. “...I-it doesn’t look bad.” Geno whispered, not quite believing the words. “I...I look good.”

When he tried the same sexy pose from earlier, his fragile confidence shattered.

He was stupid to think something like this would ever fit someone like him.

Click

Eye light darting to the door, Geno panicked when he saw the knob turning and hurriedly looked for something to hide himself with. Spotting Reaper’s cloak balled up on the floor, he all but dove for the dark clothing and was quick to slide it on and overlap the ends shut. Seconds later, the door was pushed open and his husband stepped in; dressed in nothing more than a towel.  

“There you are, Gen.” The god said with a grin. Upon noticing what his lover wore; however, the grin tilted into a smirk. “Oh, that’s a nice surprise.” he murmured, eyeing his husband appreciatively. “I was going to complain about you shooting down my shower sex idea but I think I like this better. Only…”

“What?” Geno mumbled, head tilted away.

Gently, fingers caught his chin and turned his skull to face the god. Smirk still present but softened by concern, Reaper caught a teardrop with his thumb. “Only,” he repeated quietly “I know what you look like when you’ve been crying, honey, and I’d like to know what’s wrong before doing anything fun.”

Eye light downcasted, he sniffled. “Nothings wrong, Reaper.”

“Liar.” His husband scolded. “Something’s obviously wrong, Gen.” His eye caught the plastic bag on the bed and the clothing on the floor and, with an understanding look, Reaper returned his gaze to his face. “Did something happen to that little lacy outfit you bought?”

Socket widening, Geno stiffened. “W-what? You...you saw it?”

“I saw you trying to hide the bag and peeked when you went to make dinner.” Reaper admitted, not ashamed in the least. “Did it rip or something?”

“...No.” He whispered, wishing that were actually the case. “It just...doesn’t suit me. I think I’m going to return it.”

Always annoyingly attentive, Reaper frowned at whatever he found on Geno’s face. “...Geno, you don’t buy clothes unless you like how they look on you.”

“I changed my mind about this one.” The smaller claimed. It wasn’t really a lie, either. “It...it’s not…”

Meant for him.

Pretty on him.

Sexy on him.

“...I look ugly.” He revealed in small, quiet voice. Against his will, tears began flooding his socket again. “It w-was stupid o-of me to try wearing something l-like this.”

“Gen…” Reaper began worriedly “Honey, you’re just being hard on yourself. How could anything possibly look ugly on you? You’re gorgeous!”

“I’m fat .” He snapped, wiping at his face angrily. “It doesn’t hide my stomach and t-the stupid stockings a-are just going to highlight how h-huge my thighs are. T-those stupid women a-are right. You’re g-going to look at me and want to run!”

“What women?” The taller skeleton asked darkly. “Did people say something to you when you were shopping, baby?”

“...Not to me.” Geno mumbled. “They w-were talking behind m-my back. That d-doesn’t mean what they were saying i-isn’t true though.”

When he tried to look away again, Reaper gently stopped him. “Honey, what did they say?”

“...The usual.” He muttered. Geno had the worst of luck and an even worse insecurity problem. Unfortunately, it seemed like every time he mustered up the confidence to go out with his body formed, somebody was around to ruin it. “...I hate this feeling.”

Dark sockets soft, the god gently wiped his tears and pressed a kiss to his head. “You can’t help the way your brain works, baby. Whatever you overheard was obviously hurtful. Hurtful things impact everyone.”

“I liked how I looked.” Geno admitted, tucking his skull under Reaper’s neck despite his near-nakedness. “I felt good for once. Excited. I...I really wanted to hold onto that feeling. I tried to hold onto it but those comments reminded me of—“ he cut himself off.

Reaper’s loving smile twitched. “...I swear I’m going to cut that asshole in half one day.” The god growled darkly, well aware of Geno’s precious disaster of a first date. “He should have never said any of that bullshit to you.”

“He wasn’t wrong.”

“He was!” The taller snapped before forcefully calming himself when Geno flinched. “Shit, I’m sorry, baby. I shouldn’t have yelled. It’s just,” he grit his teeth. “...you’re beautiful , Geno. Your body type doesn’t change that and I hate that some asshole managed to make you think otherwise.”

Gene snorted despite the lack of humor. “It wasn’t just him…” The guy had been his first experience with a partner who didn’t like this body, but he hadn’t been the last. Back when he went by Sans and his magic was still blue, Geno fell into a long line of bad date after bad date. “...You’re probably the nicest guy I’ve dated. Well, aside from Grillby.”

“Too bad I’m not as hot.” Reaper said in an attempt to make him laugh. He smiled when it worked. “I wish you’d let me track all those assholes down, Gen. They deserve a special kind of hell for everything terrible thing they’ve said about you.”

“Don’t be mean.” He lightly scolded, sniffling as his tears finally stopped. “You’re better than them, so don’t stoop to their level. Or murder. Asgore will call you in for another scolding.”

“Look at my beautiful, loving husband trying to save me from a headache.” The god cooed, nuzzling the top of his skull lovingly. “I love you, Gen.”

“I love you too, Reaps.” Geno said softly. When he went to wipe his cheek, his hand brushed against Reaper’s bare ribs and the taller skeleton shivered. Biting his tongue, the smaller glanced away unsurely. “...Do you...do you want to see my outfit? O-on me, I mean.”

“Only if you feel comfortable showing me, Gen.” Reaper responded gently.

Lightly pushing his husband away, Geno made sure his was dry before nervously gripping the overlapping folds of the robe. Averting his eye, he let the large, loose material fall open and slide off his form.

Reaper choked.

“...Does it look weird?” He hesitantly asked. “I thought it, well, I…” Feeling humiliated, he covered himself the best he could with his arms. “It came in my size.” Geno muttered, defensively. “It definitely doesn’t look weird.” Reaper reassured, his voice strained. “Shit, babe. You look good.”

Flushing, he shook his head. “I don’t.”

Stepping into his space, Reaper gently coaxed him into turning around to face the mirror and, when he attempted to look away, carefully yet firmly moved his skull back into place. “Gen, look at yourself.”

Not really having a choice but to listen, the smaller glanced at his reflection.

A rich black, the babydoll hung from his shoulders by two simple thin straps. It was tight around his chest and completely solid, keeping his ample breast hidden even as the built-in bra pushed his ample chest up to further showcase an eyeful of cleavage. From there on out, the fabric flowed out as lovely and fine lace that ended just about mid-thigh. Being such a transparent material, the lace offered a look at his pretty red magic and the simple, solid black panties he wore under the tempting article of clothing.

Lastly, he had on a contrasting white garter belt that went well with both the little outfit and his skin. Connected to it were two black thigh high stockings that were solid enough to darken the ecto of his legs but transparent enough to still show them.

It wasn’t the most revealing thing that had been in the store but it had made him feel sexy all the same. Now, he just felt like a joke, his hands coming up to conceal the soft curve of his stomach insecurely as he fought the urge to look away.

“I thought it looked nice earlier.” He whispered, recalling the way that nervousness has blossomed into excited confidence. Reaper loved buying him sexy clothing but this was the first time that Geno had wanted to get something sensual. “I really, really thought it was nice on me.”

“Geno, it’s beautiful on you.” Reaper stated, sliding on the robe Geno dropped to the floor before circling his arms around the smaller from behind. “Stars, I love when you wear black. It’s such a sexy color on you, baby.”

“I don’t feel sexy anymore.” Letting Reaper remove his hands from his stomach, Geno leaned back into his husband and watched as the taller skeleton ran a hand down the lacy fabric he wore. “I just feel ugly.”

“I wish you wouldn’t be so hard on yourself.” The god sighed, tone sad but understanding. Outside of battle, confidence was something Geno had always struggled with. “Want me to make you feel pretty, Gen?” Reaper murmured, fiddling with the hem of the lingerie. “Or do you wanna just steal some of my clothes and watch a movie?”

Eyeing his reflection, Geno turned around and tucked his face back into Reaper’s neck to hide. “...Can I borrow another hoodie?”

“Sure, Love.” His husband allowed, holding him tighter. “Do you want the black one? Or the black one? Oh, what about the black one? I have a black one, too.”

“Dork.” He chuckled quietly. “Just give me one.”

Reaper seemed reluctant to let him go so the god simply dragged him on over to the closet to find a suitable hoodie. The taller skeleton didn’t actually own much casual clothing so it took some time to dig out a baggy pullover that wasn’t dirty. When he held out with a victorious grin, Geno smiled slightly and took it from him before turning around in his lover’s arms and sliding the babydoll off. Shrugging on the hoodie, he reached under and began searching for the clip on the garter belt but paused when he caught sight of himself in the mirror.

Hesitantly, he twisted around in his husbands arms to look himself over. The hoodie was baggy on Reaper and practically drowning him in cloth so you couldn’t really see his stomach that well. It was long on him, too, falling further down his thighs than the lingerie but not covering them completely, allowing for a small gap between where the hoodie ended and the stockings began. Unsurely, he shuffled around again—Reaper’s arms still around him—and took note of how certain types of movement gave teasing glimpses of his panties.

“Love you in my clothes.” Reaper murmured, watching as Geno checked over the outfit in the mirror.

There was a heated look in the taller’s eyes that Geno knew Reaper wouldn’t act on unless asked. “I like wearing your clothes.” He admitted, enjoying the warmth of Reaper’s hoodie around him and Reaper himself holding him. “...I think I still like the stockings. And the panties.”

“Yeah?” The god purred, slowly sliding a hand up a stocking covered thigh to tease at the bit of revealed flesh. “They look nice on you. Well, the stockings at least.” Making sure Geno knew what he was doing, he tugged the hem of his sweater up to catch a glimpse of the black panties. “I haven’t gotten a good look at these yet.”

“...Do you want a closer one?” He asked quietly, spreading his legs a bit when a knee nudged itself between them.

Pressing a kiss to his neck, Reaper hummed in thought. “Do you want me to get a closer look?”

“Yeah.” Geno decided. Then, hesitantly, he added, “...but I want to keep your hoodie on.”

Spinning him around just to tug Geno up into a hold with the smaller’s arms around his neck and legs around his waist; Reaper chuckled and began trailing kisses across whatever he could reach as he carried his husband to bed. “That’s fine with me, baby.”

“ And I still want to watch a movie later.” He added, gasping at the sharp, stinging sensation of a bite. “W-with cuddles.”

“Whatever you want, Gen.” The god purred, hands searching out every sensitive spot he knew. “I’m gonna make you feel good first, baby.”

Later, tired and sore in the best of the ways as he cuddled up to his husband, Geno watched as Reaper pulled up Netflix on his phone and smiled.

He didn’t feel up to trying on the sexy top again…

...but he couldn’t deny that Reaper definitely made him feel good.

Bonus!

Allowing his body to dragged into the next world his work called him to, Reaper blinked in surprise upon finding himself in an underground capitol. Shit, Paps was the one that dealt with peaceful deaths so if he was the one in the underground then that meant…

“Run!” Someone cried, darting pass the god of death who remained unseen. “The human is coming!”

Fuck, a genocide.

A little uncomfortable, he began following the tugging he felt to whoever his victim was meant to be.

Geno’s world was centered around them, but his husband’s underground wasn’t the only one that experienced genocides. That being said, it never failed to make him guilty to have to reap the souls of victims who experienced the same horror his loved one did. A little uncomfortable, he summoned his scythe and a turned a corner, sending the poor soul on the other side of a build—

Reaper froze.

…

…

…

The shitty date.

Suddenly, he didn’t feel all that bad about what was about to happen.

Karma, bitch!

Chapter Text

When the dating magazines failed him yet again, Reaper decided it was time to expand his resources…

...by buying more magazines.

Ignoring the strange glances being sent his way, the god noisily sipped at the remains of his triple mocha frappuccino while eyeing the rack of magazines before him. Was it okay to get the ones directed at men? A lot of them seemed to be written with the assumption that he was trying to charm a woman and he didn’t want to risk offending Geno if the suggestions were too gender specific. Flipping through one he picked at random, he frowned in consideration. What if Geno did want to be swept off his feet with jewelry and shoes, though? Unsure, he tossed the magazine in alongside all the others he already picked out and moved onto the next in line. He was a little tired at looking through them all; however, so he simply swept the rest of the magazines off of the rack and into the cart so he could move on. He wanted to get some reading in before Paps came home.

Huh, Paps.

Pausing by the little set up of books, Reaper frowned and chewed on his straw in thought. Papyrus was a pretty big fan of manuals, he knew. Paps referred to them for nearly everything. Reaper had been avoiding asking his brother for the dating manual he knew the younger god of death had though, but he wouldn’t have to ask if he bought one for himself, right? Looking over what literature was offered with a critical gaze, the god grinned upon finding something about dating tucked behind a trashy romance novel. Pleased, he tossed it in the cart…

...and circled back to grab the novel, too.

It could come in handy!

Hours later, Reaper finally leaned back against his headboard and groaned in relief when his neck and spine popped gloriously. Stars, he had been bent over for far too long. Absently rolling his shoulders to rid himself of some tension, he reached down for his notebook and began reviewing his game plan for winning over Geno.

“Okay, so…”

Step One:

“Spruce Up Your Wardrobe: Catch your crush's eye with some hot new clothes!”

Stepping through a portal into what he now knew was called the save screen, Reaper allowed himself a brief, nervous smile before replacing it with a confident grin as he began strutting towards the beam of light Geno usually sat under; his clothing flaring out around him dramatically.

“Little Gen-o-cide~” He called out, stressing the syllables in a playful manner.

Sighing, the smaller skeleton looked up from the little pile of plucked grass he was making. Despite his grumpy, annoyed expression, there was a bit of warmth in his everlasting grin. “Death.”

Stopping just before his feet would touch the small patch of green, Reaper sulked. “Nooo, call me Reaper!” he whined, making sure he was catching the light as he smoothed the wrinkles from his clothing. Discreetly, he checked to see if Geno had noticed it yet. “Reap-er.”

Apparently unaware of the change, Geno shrugged. “If you won’t use my name, then I won’t use yours, Death .”

“Genocide is your name though!” Reaper argued, shifting pointedly under the beam of light. Come on, come one. Notice, he silently urged. “The ‘little’ just makes it cuter!”

Still, Geno didn’t seem to catch that something was different. “I’m not little, asshole. Genocides also aren’t cute, dumbass.”

Maybe Geno was just playing dumb? Letting his power lift him into the air, Reaper took a seat on literally nothing and crossed crossed a leg over his knee sensually, long, dark fabric draping over his legs and swaying in a non-existent wind. “I don’t know…” He drawled. Compliments, Reaper. Compliments. “...the one I’m looking at now is absolutely adorable.”

Yes! That was so slick !

...Right?

Nervously, he peered at Geno’s expression.

…

…

…

“You’re such an idiot.” Geno growled, blushing .

Attempting to maintain a cool expression despite being faced with such pure, unmatched beauty, Reaper chuckled. Embarrassingly enough, it came out as more of a giggle. “A fashionable idiot?” He asked, trying to nudge the smaller skeleton into noticing his new clothes.

Raising a brow and eyeing him up and down, Geno snorted. “If you call wearing the same thing everyday fashionable, then sure.”

What?

No!

“This is a new outfit!”

“...Are you sure?” The smaller asked, squinting at him as though it weren’t completely obvious Reaper’s clothing was entirely different this time around. “Doesn’t look new to me.”

“There’s no rips at the bottom!” Gesturing to the hem of his cloak where the typically torn fabric was intact, he added, “This is an entirely different shade of black than my other robes,” before motioning to the ropes he wore. “and I just got these today from a couple of nooses I found at work!”

“The ropes you wear are nooses ?” Geno asked, disturbed.

Reaper nodded with a pout. “If they’re strong enough to hold a body, then they’re strong enough to keep my clothes shut.”

Not at all put to ease by that logic, Geno scooted away. “You’re fucking weird, Death.”

Step Two:

“Try finding some common ground with your crush!"

Hearing the soft tap-clicks of a skeleton’s footsteps, Geno smiled slightly before schooling his expression into something more neutral as he looked up from his lap to greet his headache. “Hey, Dea—fuck!” he shouted, scrambling to his feet and taking an unsure step forward. “Reaper! Are you okay?!”

Smiling as though his clothing wasn’t torn and dripping with blood, Reaper waved cheerfully. “Hey, Little Genocide!”

“Don’t ‘hey’ me, you fucking asshole!” He snapped, letting the name go for now as he worriedly looked around for something, anything , he could use to stop the blood-flow. Shit, why did the save screen have to be so empty? “Sit down, idiot!” Geno scolded when he noticed Reaper was just standing around like an idiot. “You’re losing too much to be standing!”

“Oh,” nonchalant, the god looked down at himself. “don’t worry, Geno. None of this is mine.”

…

…

…

“What?” He asked weakly, hoodie half off in a paused attempt at using it to staunch whatever wound he assumed the god had.

Grinning, Reaper repeated himself. “The blood isn’t mine!”

“What the fuck?” The smaller whispered. “Did...did you get into a fight?” The chest of the robe was torn open. Maybe someone attacked Reaper but missed and the blood was from the god’s retaliation. “Oh, or is...is it from...work?”

“Nope!” Drifting closer with a carefree smile and pausing when they were standing side by side, the god began digging through his pocket in search of something. Seconds later, he pulled out a phone and was holding it out in front of them with the selfie camera on. “Say ‘cheese’, blood buddy!”

“What the fuck ?!”

The camera flashed.

Step Three:

“Take inspiration from The Classics!”

It took him much longer than expected to find his old boombox and even longer to dig through his music collection for the perfect song but Reaper was sure all the effort would be worth it. Double checking that everything was set to go and that the right song would play, he hefted the big, clunky machine over a shoulder and sneakily popped on over to the save screen. Geno was facing away, he noticed. Perfect .

Letting himself hover closer, he quickly pressed play and held the music player over his head just as the first notes of the song began to play.

Instantly, Geno jumped. “Reaper?!” he shouted over the guitar echoing through the save screen as he spun around to stare at him with a socket wide in surprise. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

“Serenading you!” Reaper shouted back.

“What?!”

Raising his voice, he tried again. “Serenading you!”

“Urinating poo?! That’s disgusting!”

“No!” That wasn’t even close. “I said I’m serenading you!”

“Serration?”

“Serenading!”

“Turn down that music, idiot!” Geno demanded. “I can’t hear you!”

Lowering the boombox, Reaper attempted to do just that only to find that the little dial was stuck. Shit! Putting a little force into it, he tried turning it…

...and accidentally raised the volume.

“Reaper!” The smaller shouted, hands clamped down over the side of his skull to cover the ears he didn’t have. “I said down! ”

“Shit, shit, shit!” He whispered, turning the dial the other way—

—aaaaand it broke.

“Shit!”

Setting the heavy machine onto the floor and kneeling in front of it in order to poke at it more comfortably, Reaper lowered his head to search for where the batteries where and completely missed the expression that settled onto Geno’s face as the music continued blaring.

“Let me love you to…

Let me love you to death.”

“What the fuck?” Geno whispered, blushing furiously.

His face was back to normal by the time Reaper shut off the music.

Step Four:

“Get creative! Give your crush a homemade gift!”

This was a terrible idea.

A terrible, stupid idea.

“Well?” Geno prompted, brow raised as he watched Reaper shuffle around like an idiot. “You said you wanted to show me something, so where is it?”

It was so ugly!

Geno was going to laugh!

Not his cute laugh, either!

“Reaper?”

It would be one of those mean, mocking kinds.

“Reaper, are you listening?”

Oh, who was he kidding? It would still be cute.

“REAPER!”

“Would you look at the time?! It’s a Death-O-Clock! Gotta go kill people!”

“Reaper, wait! Don’t—”

“—go.” Geno sighed.

Why did Reaper keep doing that?

…

…

…

“...Is it me?” He murmured worriedly, bringing his knees to his chest and picking at his shorts with a frown. “That’s the fourth time he’s left in a hurry like that just this week. Am I…”

Boring.

Cynical.

Grumpy.

Rude.

Dull.

Mean .

“...He’s going to stop showing up, isn’t he?” Geno asked, whispering the question to the void and suddenly feeling incredibly alone without Reaper there to respond. Glancing at where the god had just been sitting, he sighed again and slowly scooted closer to where the floor was still warm. Maybe he’d take a nap… “Huh?” He mumbled, frowning at the black floor. “Is that...a package?”

Hesitantly reaching out, he poked the ground.

It gave under his prodding and Geno decided that, yeah, that was a lumpy, black package poorly blending in with the shadowy ground. Picking it up, he saw that it was wrapped in what looked like dark tissue paper and that it was held close by rope instead of tape. Curious, he fiddled with the knots until the ropes unraveled and tore through the tissue paper only to blink in surprise.

“This is…”

Holding the garment up, he choked on a laugh when it unraveled.

“... so ugly!”

In his hands was what had to be a homemade sweater. Red, it was lumpy and lopsided and just about a hundred times his size. Stars, you could probably fit three of him in it! Maybe that was why there was three sleeves? Chuckling, he turned the red monstrosity around…

...and gasped at what he found.

“Oh…” he whispered, laying the sweater across his lap as he lightly ran a hand across what he assumed was meant to be the front. “That’s…”

Nice.

Kind.

Endearing.

Thoughtful.

“Sweet.” Geno murmured, smiling as he traced a large incision cut across the sweater. He put up with it when it came to his hoodie—he didn’t really have a choice, after all—but fabric always felt a little uncomfortable when pressed up against his wound.

Oh.

The sweater was red .

He couldn’t ruin a red sweater.

“Did Death himself really make me an ugly, thoughtful sweater?”

Again, no one answered.

Oddly enough, the silence didn’t feel so lonely this time.

Smiling a little wider, Geno carefully tugged off his normal white clothing in favor of the sweater. It was so, so, so big and the neckline was so wide that the sweater kept slipping down his shoulders, but the cut in the fabric settled perfectly over his own and he grinned.

“I like it.”

“He probably hates it!” Reaper groaned.

Stars, he was such an idiot.

Step Five:

“Be attentive! Keep an eye on what your crush likes!”

Day Three of Watching Geno  

As the dating manual suggested, I’ve been keeping my eye on Geno, dubbed Subject Q-T for these notes. So far, he hasn’t seemed to notice me so I can only assume my invisibility works just as well on him as it does on other mortals. Good.

Just like the first two days, he isn’t doing much. Well, aside from being absolutely adorable, that is. Stars, he’s so, so cute. He’s taking his third nap of the day (Note: He’s taken a total of twenty-nine naps so far) and his sleeping face is so sweet. Q-T drools in his sleep! I never knew it was possible for someone to look his cute and innocent.

Oh, he’s making noises. This is new.

I’m going to attempt to get closer in order to record what he’s saying in these notes.

Hmmm, he’s not saying anything though. Q-T is just making these little sounds.

Huh, his face is getting red.

Can he get sick in the save screen? (Note: Ask Subject Q-T if he can get sick in the save screen.)

Wait, he said something! I’m going to pull out my phone so I can play this back later for research.

Reaper’s Research Album

173 Photos

1 Video

Playing Video (Running time: 1:09):

Blurry at first and quality poor due to the lack of good lighting, Geno was just barely seen on the screen of the phone; his face slightly illuminated by a faint, glowing red blush.

“...er…” He murmured, voice too soft to be picked up correctly. “Mmm…”

“I wonder what he’s dreaming about.” Reaper whispered off screen.

Suddenly, Geno’s face burned brighter, the smaller skeleton releasing a small noise as he squirmed for a bit before settling. “...a...er…” Geno mumbled, still too quiet to be heard completely.

When his mouth fell open, the phone shook with Reaper’s quiet laughter. “He’s drooling again. How cu—”

“A-ah~” Geno moaned.

The camera jolted.

“H-holy sh—”

“Ah, a-ah…!”

The screen went black as the video ended.  

Day Three of Watching Geno (Continued)

Subject Q-T, now renamed Subject SX-Y, began…

Well.

He.

Fuck, he was having a dirty dream. Geno has dirty dreams! Holy fuck!

His moans were so

Stars, I’ve never gotten so har

I want him to have dirty dreams about m

Subject SX-Y was left alone to sleep in peace because I had a boner.

I think that, after today, I should stop with the research

My heart can’t take it.

Neither can my dic

With that, today’s log ends.    

Reaper out.

Step Six:

“Share Your Interest! Let your crush know you want to include them in your hobbies.”

This one was easy! Reaper could bring Geno Starbucks! Reaper was interested in coffee, after all!

Yeah, that would work!

It had to work.

…

…

…

This was hopeless, wasn’t it?

Sighing, Reaper teleported to his favorites Starbucks anyways. It was worth a try, right?

Not feeling very good about this attempt, he quietly greeted the barista and put in an order for one of his usual drinks. While that was being made, he looked over the menu before deciding on a simple black coffee for Geno with a request for a small cup of milk on the side. He didn’t even know if Geno like coffee. If he did, Reaper had no way of knowing if he’d like something sweet or not, so he settled for shoving some packets of sugar into his pocket alongside a stirring stick in case Geno would like to mix in anything. When he was about to reach for his drink; however, the barista tripped and he had to jump back to avoid touching her, sending his drink splattering across the floor.

Great.

Just great.

This attempt was off to a great start.

Merely nodding in response as the poor woman rushed to apologize and make him a new one, Reaper sighed and took hold of Geno’s cup. His drink would take a some time to make, he knew, so, feeling bored, he went digging for one of the pens he kept on him to make his flirting notes and clicked it open to absently scrawl across the white cup he held. Something had been stuck in his head lately. Maybe writing it down would get it out….

“Here, sir.” The barista said nervously a few minutes later, sliding his newly made coffee across the counter and smiling apologetically when he jumped. “Sorry again. Have a nice day!”

Shooting back a simple ‘you too’ and tucking his pen away in favor of his drink, he quickly made his way out of the Starbucks and all but ran into the first dark alleyway he could find. He really wasn’t any more enthusiastic about this attempt but he couldn’t deny that he was excited to see Geno yet again.

Smiling, he vanished…

...and nearly gave Geno a hard attack when he appeared inches away from him.

“Sorry.” Reaper said with a nervous chuckle. “Didn’t mean to startle you, Little Genocide.”

“Again with the name?” Geno groaned, throwing him a grumpy scowl. A part of Reaper wilted when he noticed that his ugly, handmade sweater was still nowhere in sight. He hadn’t seen it since leaving it behind and he was really starting to think the smaller simply blasted it to dust. Stars, he knew making that was a terrible idea. “You know I don’t like that stupid nickname, Death .”

“Tween Queen Magazine recommended cute nicknames though…” He mumbled under his breath, shoulders slumping a bit in disappointment. Was it really not catching on after all this time? Ignoring Geno’s confused expression at the muttered words, he tried for a smile and held out the black coffee. “I, um. I got you coffee.”

“...Why?” Geno murmured as he reached for the cup. At its warmth, he gave a pleased hum and held it closer to his body, not yet drinking from the cup but seeming to at least enjoy the way it felt in his hands. “Um, thanks, I guess. Why coffee though?”

“I like coffee.” Reaper responded dully, sinking to the ground with his own drink in hand. Did Geno not remember that? He...he told him that before, right? “Starbucks is my favorite. This is, uh, this is Starbucks. Coffee. Starbucks coffee.”

“I haven’t had coffee in forever…” The smaller skeleton said, though the words seemed spoken more to himself than to Reaper. Curiously, Geno brought the cup to his teeth and tried out a small sip. “Oh, bitter.”

Shit, he forgot to offer the sugar.

...Shit! He forgot the cup of milk!

“It’s as black as my SOUL!” He blurted, immediately wishing he could die.

Geno snorted. “More like as black as your clothes, idiot.” The other, smaller corrected with a hidden grin and teasing tone. “How did you know I like black coffee?”

“You do?!” Oh, wait. Play it cool! “I mean, uh,” Clearing his throat, he smiled charmingly (just like he practiced in the mirror). “Of course you do. You’re…” Compliments. Compliments. Compliments! “Well, um. Uh.” Shit. “Black coffee is bitter!” He informed, panicking inside because Geno obviously knew that. “Opposites attract right? Right. Uh, coffee is bitter and you’re...you’re sweet!” Feeling this entire conversation crashing and burning, he chuckled nervously and got ready to teleport away. “...You’re sweet, Geno, so of course you’d be drawn to bitter coffee. Bitterness is your opposite.”

Stars, did that even make sense?!

“Wow, looks like someone is conveniently dying again! Gotta go, Gen—”

A hand slid into his own.

Reaper froze.

“Wait!” Geno cried, looking up at him with a frown. He was blushing, Reaper noted distantly, dazed by the small, warm fingers curled between his own. “I, uh, I…” Losing his nerve, the smaller skeleton glanced away. “...Never mind.” his hand slipped out of Reaper’s loose hold. “See you next time, Reaper.”

“Bye…” He mumbled, still stunned as he teleported away.

…

…

…

“GENO HELD MY HAND!” He screamed, diving for the pillow on his bed to muffle his excited squealing. “He hasn’t done that since I tried to kill him!”

Staring down at his hand quietly, Geno sighed.

You’re sweet, Geno.

You’re sweet, Geno.

You’re sweet, Geno.

“I’m not.” He scoffed, turning his gaze to his coffee cup. There was writing messily scribbled across the white cup but Reaper left too quickly before he could ask about it. “I’m not sweet.” Geno denied even though the god was long gone, eye light scanning the words as he silently read them. “If anything, I’m just as bitter as the coffee...”

…

…

…

“...and you’re as sweet as this poem.” He whispered.

Step Seven:

“Be thoughtful: Give them something with meaning!”

“I’m back again, little Genoci—oh.”

Geno was sleeping.

Geno was sleeping…

...in a very familiar red sweater.

Smiling, Reaper quietly drifted forward and took special care to remain silent as he crouched and carefully placed a book next to Geno’s head. Just when he was about to stand and leave, the smaller skeleton shifted in his sleep and mumbled something.

Curious, he leaned in a bit more.

“...Reaper…” Geno mumbled.

…

…

…

Oh.

Flushing blue, the god smiled gleefully.

Maybe things were working out for him after all.

"Sleep tight...Gen."

Chapter Text

The end of the multiverse began with a gasp.

Oh, you could definitely argue that it began long before that but it was the gasp that solidified it.

Small, yet sharp, that little gasp was such a quiet thing. Such a tiny sound, really, especially when compared to the shouting that had filled the room. Not everyone even acknowledged that the sound was made but Reaper had always been so very attentive to his darling one and had known that something was terribly, terribly wrong the moment he heard that intake of air.

It was a sound surprise…

...and of pain.

“R-Reaper…” Geno shakily called, voice a mere whisper yet an echoing scream in his ears. “Rea...per…”

Feeling as though he were moving through molasses, Reaper turned around.

…

…

…

“Geno.” he whispered, sockets wide. Around them, the others took notice of what happened and cried out in horror. “...Geno…”

…

…

…

“G  E  N  O!”

Slamming into the god standing behind his darling, his precious one , Reaper snarled as he clawed at him viciously, begging his power to slow in order to tear and tear and tear at the fool; to make him s u f f e r before his death. When his pleas went unanswered and the god mercifully died seconds after encountering his touch, he screamed in rage and threw the limp corpse into the wall; a sickening crunch echoing through the room.

Uncaring, he spun on his heel and ran to catch his love as Geno crumpled on the floor, the magic of the spear impaling him shattering with its creator’s death.

“Geno, darling, beloved.” He rasped, cradling his world in his arms and scrambling to press his sleeve over the gaping hole in the smaller’s sternum. “No, no, baby. Gen. ”

“R-Re...Reap...er…” Geno whimpered, eye light worryingly fuzzy. He coughed and red magic spilled from his grin, so similar to his body’s grim habit but so, so much worse in this scenario. “R-Reaper…”

“Help…” Reaper whispered, tears filling his socket as he held Geno close. “Help! SOMEBODY HELP!”

When no one moved, too stunned to do so, the distressed god shrieked in fury and disappeared with his lover only to startle Life seconds later as he appeared before her in her garden; blackening the grass.

“Sans, wha-“

“Heal him!” He interrupted, void gaze panicked and crazed as he revealed his better laying limp in his arms. “Heal him! N o w! ”

Jumping at the darkness creeping into his words, Toriel rushed to do so. When she coaxed Reaper into settling Geno onto the dead grass before him and the god removed his sleeve, she gasped; horror in her eyes. “Sans…”

Gritting his teeth at the uncertainty he could hear creeping into the voice of his best friend, Reaper turned his head away to instead focus on his beautiful little lover, fear in his eyes as he gently peeled Geno’s wet, crimson shirt away from his bones. When the smaller whimpered, he hushed him with a gentleness full of barely concealed fear. The wound was so, so much worse with no clothing in the way and both deities felt sick upon realizing they could see through the hole to the shattered and missing vertebrae of Geno’s spine.

“You have to hurry!” He hissed, clutching at one of those lovely skeletal hands and attempting to soothe his shaking, crying beloved. “Please, hurry! ”

Geno wasn’t withering to dust but his bones were graying the same way a human corpse would begin to discolor and pale. Reaper...Reaper didn’t know which was worst. The tint to the smaller’s bones was concerning, yes, but was it a good sign Geno wasn’t getting dusty or would his darling simply close his eyes and never wake without turning into little specks of himself? Injecting yourself with DT wasn’t common throughout the worlds and he wasn’t sure how it would affect the usual process of a monster’s...of a monster’s….

Biting his tongue to cut down on the whimper that wanted to escape, he simply held Geno’s hand tighter and watched as Life coaxed her magic into the smaller skeleton’s trembling form.

“It’s going to be okay, my love.” He comforted, gently stroking the individual bones forming his darling’s hand. “It’s going to be okay. You’re going to be fine.”

“R-Reap…” Geno whined, choking on his blood and weakly squeezing Reaper’s hand. “Re...Reaps…” Scared and in great pain, the smaller skeleton stared up at him, his eye light flickering weakly. “L...l-love...y-you…”

Laughing hysterically, he shakily reached down to cup his beautiful lover’s cheek.

Geno felt cold.

Red magic monsters always ran hot.

“I love you too, my beloved Genocide.” He responded with a bright, wobbling smile. “After this, we’re going to go on a vacation, okay?”

Crying, Geno weakly nodded. “Love y-you…”  the smaller repeated with a weak sob. “Love y-you, Reap...Re...aper. M-my...my R...Reap...er…”

Eyelight vanishing, Geno went still…

…

…

…

And

Turned

To

D  u s  t.

…

…

…

No.

…

…

…

No.

…

…

…

“N O!”

Desperately, he lunged forward, his chest hitting the ground hard as he hurriedly circled the small pile of clothing and dust with his arms; protecting it from the wind. Toriel was saying something, he knew, but he couldn’t hear her over the sound of his own screams as he attempted to keep his lover all together. He had to keep Geno safe. He had to keep his beloved safe and together and—

There was a large gust of wind and Reaper screeched, throwing himself on top of the dusty clothing when a few of the precious specks escaped his hold.

“Geno, Geno, Geno.” He chanted hysterically. “I got you, baby. You’re safe. I have you. I have you.”

“S-Sans…” Toriel whispered in horror. “I...I-I’m sorry. My friend, I tried to-“

“You didn’t try hard enough!” Reaper snarled. “Gen…” he whined seconds later, anger fading back into despair near instantly. “My beautiful, precious Genocide…” Quickly, the anger returned. “A s g o r e.”

From the corner of his eye, he noticed Life startle at the sound of her estranged husband’s name. Ignoring her, he slowly lifted himself up off of his darling and carefully, lovingly, swept Geno onto his clothing before gently folding everything up to ensure none of the dust would spill out. White was smeared across his hands and cloak but he merely smiled and rubbed his beloved further into the dark material; tears spilling down his face.

It was tradition to spread the dust of monsters on the things they loved.

Geno loved him.

Loved.

Loved.

Lov ed .

Sobbing, he carefully placed Geno in his inventory for now, knowing it would keep his beautiful Genocide safe and close. He couldn’t help himself though, and kept his darling’s scarf out so that he could wrap the strip of dusty red fabric around his neck instead. Geno was even closer now. In his inventory, on his hands, on his clothing, and, now, keeping him warm as though hugging him around his neck. It made him smile…

...but the smile was crazed.

“We’re going to go talk to Asgore, honey.” He murmured, tucking his chin behind the scarf and slowly walking away. With every step he took, the grass beneath him withered. “The King needs to a p o l  o g i z e to you. This is his fault, after all.”

“S-Sans.” Toriel bravely spoke up, stepping before him and forcing him to pause in order to not run into her. “Please, my friend, you’re falling to your grief. I dread asking what part my husband played in this, so instead I ask that you allow yourself some time to grieve before confronting him. Please, Sans, don’t let your sadness push you into doing something terrible.”

“...He got my Geno killed.” He whispered, staring at her with wide, blank eyes. “He didn’t dirty his hands but he’s the one who called us here today. It was his guard that murdered my beloved, Toriel. I t ‘s  h i s  f a u l t.”

“Sans please,” The goddess begged “You’re not thinking clearly! Asgore will not take kindly to aggression! He will punish you!”

Reaper stilled.

Then, he began laughing.

“A   d e a d   m a n  can’t punish shit, G o d d e s s.”

With that, he was gone.

When Reaper awoke, it wasn’t due to sunlight creeping into the room or the sound of his alarm blaring nearby, or even because of his brother crashing through the door with an announcement of breakfast. Instead, he was lovingly coaxed away from the gentle embrace of sleep by a familiar weight draped over him and the sensation of playful fingertips skimming across his skull. Feigning sleep, he inwardly preened at the soft caresses and nearly found himself purring in a pleased fashion at the way those curious fingertips grew bolder the longer he went without responding. Slowly, the touches transformed from loving traces of his closed sockets and grin to teasing trails down his neck. He wasn’t particularly sensitive there, nor was he ticklish, but the light brush of bone felt pleasant and the god found that he couldn’t quite stop the pleasant shiver that shook him.

In response, the weight pressing into him shifted as a familiar smile brushed against his own. “I know you’re awake, Reap-er.” Geno whispered. “You don’t breath in your sleep, you weird bastard.”

“Breathing is overrated.” He murmured, blindly closing the distance between them for a firmer kiss. “Mm, good morning, glitchy husband.”

Heh, he could feel Geno’s smile widening. Cute. “Morning, creepy husband.”

“...Is it morning, by the way?” Reaper questioned, too comfortable to bother opening his eyes to check the time. “I don’t hear Paps downstairs.”

“He’s asleep.” Strange, Papyrus was always an early riser. Did he have an especially late ni— “It’s two in the morning.”

“...Geno.” He couldn’t help but whine. Opening a single, bleary socket, he groaned when he saw the darkness filling their room and the numbers on the clock proving his husband’s words correct. “How can someone so beautiful be so cruel? You know I get to sleep in on Sundays, Gen.”

“Sorry.” Geno said with a nervous chuckle. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Well, Reaper didn’t actually need sleep anyways. “Insomnia acting up again?”

Thankfully, Geno shook his head. “No. I was…” hesitating, the smaller skeleton tucked his skull under the god’s chin and turned his head just enough to stare at the wall they shared with the guest room; his cheek smushed against Reaper’s sternum. “I was just thinking.”

“About…?” He prompted, stroking the smooth bone of Geno’s skull comfortingly. “You wouldn’t wake me if it wasn’t about something important, Gen. Actually, you usually wouldn’t wake me even if it was about something important, you stubborn, prideful brat.”

“It’s called being independent, asshole.”

“Not waking me up when I accidentally rolled on top of you and began crushing your rib cage because ‘you could handle it’ isn’t being independent, darling. It’s, and I say this with love, really stupid.” That earned him an annoyed huff and a sharp jab to the ribs but Geno didn’t actually argue. Victory. “C’mon, tell me what’s on your mind.”

“I think I’m ready.” Geno whispered.

Unable to see the smaller’s face, Reaper settled for shooting the ceiling a confused look instead. “Ready for…?”

“...”

“Gen?”

Lifting his head to meet his gaze shyly, Geno offered a nervous grin. “For that thing we talked about last week.”

Thing? What thi-

Oh.

“Yeah?” He breathed, grin spitting his face excitedly. “Really?! You...you want to-?

“Have a baby.” Geno finished with a smile of his own. “I thought about it and I...I think I’m ready for one. I’m nervous.” The glitch admitted. “Stars, I’m so, so nervous but I...I want one.”

“Oh, we’re definitely not stopping at one.” With a sharp motion, Reaper flipped their positions so that he was the one looming over his husband. Careful of Geno’s fragile ribs and sensitive cut, he pressed his weight down onto the other, smaller skeleton with a smile too bright to be a leer. “One’s a good start, but I’m thinking four is a good number. No, thirty. Yeah, thirty kids will do.”

“You’re going to be the death of me.” Geno groaned, bemoaning what the future held in store for him. His little husband knew him well and Reaper was sure he could see the promise in his void-like eyes. “I suppose that’s what I get for marrying literal Death though, huh?”

“Mmm, less talking, more baby making.” Reaper teased.

“Wow, what a smooth talker. That sentence totally got me in the mood for se—ah!”

Smirking against his lover’s neck—where, unlike him, Geno was very sensitive—the taller skeleton chuckled as he lathed the pretty new bite mark his husband was sporting with attention from his tongue. “Don’t worry, honey.” He purred. “I know just how to get you in the mood.”

When the morning came, the two hopefuls were met with a guest instead of the little, glowing SOUL they had been wishing for.

“Can’t you come back later?” He grumbled to Undyne, Geno wrapped up in his arms and Papyrus at his side. Both the smallest and tallest skeleton were terribly flustered. “Geno and I were in the middle of something.”

“BROTHER,” Papyrus groaned with a bright, orange blush. “PLEASE DON’T REMIND ME.”

Poor guy had been the one to walk in on them.

For a long moment, Undyne didn’t speak. Her usual wide, slightly threatening grin was gone. “Sans…” She eventually began only to cut herself off immediately. With a sigh, she straightened and met his gaze bravely. “Death The Elder, your household has been summoned by King Asgore.”

Instantly, his expression grew cold.

“What quarrel does Asgore have with me that is so great he’d dare bring my family into it?”

“Reaper?” Geno whispered, confused.

“Asgore isn’t summoning just me, Gen.” He explained quietly, voice gentle yet gaze hard as he eyed the goddess in his home; no longer sure if she stood as friend or foe. “War specified he sent her to bring my household . That’s, Papyrus, love.” Tightening his hold around his husband protectively, he added, “That’s you , too.”

“Why would he want Paps and I there?” The smaller skeleton asked worriedly.

When three pair of eyes turned to her for answers, Undyne looked away. “...I don’t know.” She admitted. “I...Before being sent for you guys, I was told that Alphys and I were being summoned to this meeting as well. Whatever is going on, it involves us, too.”

“I don’t like this.” Reaper growled. “A household summon isn’t for shits and giggles. Unless this is something serious, this could be taken as a major insult.” At Geno’s confused expression, he went on to explain that, “By stating my name first and then summoning the others in my home, Asgore’s made it clear that his main issue is with me. He’s tying you all to my name, Gen. If it’s over something silly, he could be dragging the name of my family through the dirt for nothing. Summons are...usually bad news. No one likes having their names attached to them.”

“Sans is right.” Undyne said. “Alphys is my wife and we share a home, but we were summoned separately with our own, individual titles. At the very least, Papyrus should have been addressed by his title and, as Sans’ husband, you should have been addressed with a title of your own, Geno. This is…” Looking uncharacteristically unsure, the goddess frowned. “...not Asgore’s usual style. Whatever happened has him mad. Mad at Sans.”

“MAYBE THIS IS ALL A BIG MISUNDERSTANDING?” Papyrus piped up with a hopeful smile. Hidden behind the optimism in his voice was concern. “I’M SURE EVERYTHING WILL BE MUCH CLEARER ONCE WE SEE THE KING IN PERSON!”

Somehow, Reaper really doubted that.    

Stars, he had a bad feeling about this.

“I should have trusted my instincts.” He rasped the moment he appeared back in the throne room. Everyone present jumped at his sudden appearance but he ignored them all, uncaring of the horror on his friends’ faces when they saw the scarf he wore or of the armored guards reaching for their weapons. He cared not for his brother’s small distressed whisper of his name and he cared even less than that for the corpse still crumpled near the wall. No, his dark, wet eyes were on Asgore and he was all he cared for at the moment. “I should have taken my family and run the moment I felt uneasiness settle in my stomach.”

“Sans…” Asgore murmured regretfully. “My friend, it had to be done.”

“Friend? Friend?!” He echoed, laughing hysterically before stopping abruptly. “You’re a f o o l if you really think us friends, K i n g . Before this? Oh, certainly. Now though? Now?! Y o u   a r e   n o t h i n g   t o   m e. You’re not my King,” He stepped forward. “my friend,” Another step “, or even m y  e n e m y. ” When a guard stepped before him, he stopped. A nasty smile settled on his face. “Dead men are n o t h i n g but d u s t , after all.”

In a blink of an eye, Death stood before Asgore’s throne, a hair’s breadth away from the wide eyed, pale king. “Sans-”

“Y o u  k i l l e d  h i m.” He hissed, the shadows within his sockets writhing as though the void within his eyes lived. “You killed him but you didn’t even have the balls to do it yourself.”

Behind them, someone shouted in alarm. Seconds later, arrows pierced his back.

Death didn’t so much as flinch.

“I let myself get distracted.” As if it couldn’t be contained, the darkness in his eyes began to spill down his face in place of his tears. “When the arguing began, I allowed my focus to shift onto you. That’s my fault. You; however,” He growled, the words scraping against the sharp teeth forming his grin and coming out raspy and raw. “You signaled for that god to take the shot. You and you alone called for my  b e l o v e d ‘s end  a n d   n o w   h e ‘s  g o n e.”

“You told me he was safe.” Asgore murmured, sounding sad yet firm on his decision. “You told me no harm would come from his presence, Death. I put my faith in you only to learn that your lover was a glitch ; an abnormality of his world. You know the danger of glitches, Death. You know the ruin such creatures could bring to the realm. To have brought him to us was a terrible misdeed that I could not ignore. I regret the pain my decision causes you but I refuse to regret my actions when it will keep my people safe.”

“...S a f e…?” Screams, pleas for mercy, the sirens of ambulances, the sound of tears...somehow, all those terrible things echoed in the sound of Death’s laughter. “Oh, Asgore, you fool.” The same dark, inky shadows dripping from his eyes began pouring from his wide, unsettling grin. “No one is safe now.”

At first, it seemed as though nothing happened.

…

…

…

Then, the screaming began.

It began in the throne room, with the guards still pitifully attacking him from a distance, so focused on attempting to protect their king that they failed to notice the way Death’s shadow stretched to greet their own until it was too late and their bodies dropped; lifeless.

Terrified, Alphys screamed first but the sound was mirrored by everyone within the realm as gods and goddesses alike began falling to their deaths, caught by the darkness that crept from every speck of shade to consume their souls. Horrified by the realization of what was happening, Asgore summoned his great trident but Death, already so close, merely smacked the weapon away and, with a flare of magic, had the great king pinned to his throne by sharp, twisted bones that speared him throughout his body.

“You will sit.” Death commanded. “You will sit and you will listen to the cries of the people you’ve damned. You will hear them scream and beg and you will hear the silence they leave when none of them remain. You will s u f f e r, Asgore and then,” Leaning oh so dangerously close, Death purred, “y o u    w i l l  d i e.”

“B-BROTHER…” Papyrus called out in horror. “SANS, PLEASE, T-THIS...THIS IS…”

“Leave, Paps.” He called out without turning around. “Geno...Geno loved you. You weren’t his Papyrus but you became a brother to him all the same. Take your friends and go to the save screen. Go there and stay there until I tell you it’s safe. Geno wouldn’t forgive me if I let any of you get hurt.”

“SANS…”

“And,” he continued, voice dropping to a whisper. “Since I know you won’t forgive me for what I’m about to do, I want to tell you that I love you. You’re the best brother I could have ever asked for and I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I’m not going to be sorry.”

“BROTHER, PLEASE-”

“Go.”

“SANS—”

“G O!” He snarled, twisting around in a manner that should have been impossible without snapping his bones. “Leave before my anger turns to you!”

Expression sad, Papyrus took his friends and left.

...

...

...

And

The

World

Turned

To

A s h.

When silence filled the realm and Asgore sat on his throne as a king without a people to rule, Death turned his terrible power onto him. With merely a single touch from a single fingertip the king slumped, lifeless, but it wasn’t enough.

I t  w a s n ‘t  e n o u g h.

The world was too big, too empty without his darling’s laughter to fill the silence. Reaper hated it. He hated the realm that was meant to keep his love safe. He hated the sky they gazed upon at night, the grass Geno loved to nap on, and the birds his everything use to compare him to. He hated it all.

He hated it.

He hated it.

H e  h a t e d  i t.

Screeching inhumanly, he slammed his feet through the thick stone of the throne room floor until he felt the coolness of soil. Viciously, he poured his hatred into the ground and sent it throughout the realm: to the grass, the trees, the flowers...he sent his terrible power into e v e r y t h i n g that blossomed from the earth and refused to stop there. Couldn’t stop there, really.

He was too mad.

Too hurt.

Too lost in the otherness that was D e a t h.

Decay spread to all that touched the ground. Wood rotted, stone turned to sand, and buildings all across the realm began to wither away as they fell. When the land was dead and void of life, Death pushed further. Suns could die, he knew, and so would could stars as well. Black tears still falling and broken smile so terrifyingly wide, he coaxed fire into lighting the sky and cackled as hell rained down upon the world, though his laughter rang closer to sobs. When flames began to near; however, he disappeared.

He wouldn’t dare risk singeing Geno’s scarf.

Besides…

There

Were

Other

Worlds

To

Honor

His

Lovely

G e n o c i d e

With.

It took a day for the multiverse to end.

It took millenniums for it to begin again.

The Original world could not be destroyed by others, he knew. It lived on, free from his grief, and through it the multiverse slowly blossomed once again. Not all at once, but in bits and pieces as fragments lost to his anger slowly pieced themselves back together with the inspiration gained from The Original. New faces that did not know they were old appeared in worlds dragged from the grave. Swaps, fells, errors...all that lived and breathed within the multiverse returned to the multiverse as it reformed; a mirror image of what once was without the horror of the knowledge of what it once fell to.

Even the world of Death slowly reformed, though Death himself was not replaced. No, he still lived, after all. The multiverse could not fill a role already filled. Curiously enough; however, he took notice when a young Papyrus was born into the world.

Broken and cold, it took him quite awhile to realize the meaning for his tears.

Ah, so his anger still reached his brother, in the end.

Following that realization, Death returned to his old-new world and slotted himself back into the life he no longer felt he fit into but the multiverse demanded he live. He smiled rarely, if ever, and even then they were half-hearted at best and simply mustered up to appease his new brother who thought him odd but loved him as nearly every Papyrus loved their Sans.

Quickly, he gained a reputation among the gods worse than his last. No longer was he lazy and smug and annoying with his unsettling grins and dark humor. Instead, they called him heartless. Emotionless, the gods would have claimed if not for the rage that filled his empty gaze whenever he looked upon Asgore. He was cold and dutiful and cared for nothing but his brother and the faded, dusty scarf he wore.

He was a monster, many whispered.

Unnatural.

Horrifying.

A curse upon them all.

Silently, Death agreed.

He just didn’t care.

The multiverse reformed, yes, but, for Death, it didn’t truly begin again until he felt it .

A tugging in his chest.

A cry of a voice begging to be found.

…

…

…

Slowly, he smiled, the expression warm and bright.

“G e n o.”

Chapter Text

Hesitantly, Geno glanced around the save screen to ensure he was alone. Reaper was busy with work and wouldn’t be coming around today, he knew, but the knowledge of what he was about to do had him paranoid enough to feel the need to triple check that no one else resided in his home at the moment. Finding no black clad gods hiding in the darkness of the save screen, he sighed in relief. He was truly, undeniably alone.

Good.

He could test out his theory now.

Flushing in embarrassment, the smaller skeleton nervously glanced around once more before carefully sliding his scarf off from around his neck. Stalling, he folded the fabric up neatly before placing it on the floor and turning to his focus to his hoodie next. Hoodie taken care of he then moved onto his shirt, slippers, socks, and, lastly, his shorts. With everything folded on top of his scarf as though trying to hide the vibrant, innocent strip of red from what was about to happen, Geno took a deep breath and slowly leaned backwards until he was lying on the cold, dark floor of the save screen; his knees bent and legs slightly spread.

A little mortified of what he was doing, he shut his socket tightly and hesitantly slid his hand down his damaged rib cage to the magic summoned between his thighs and, with a deep, nervous breath, sought out the little nub of nerves he knew would get him started.

“A-ah…” he moaned quietly, quickly finding his clit and teasing himself with a light touch to the sensitive little bit of magic. Circling it with a single finger that offered only a lightest bit of friction, Geno waited until he was nearly biting through his tongue with frustration before pinching his clit between two fingers and rubbed at it firmly. Instantly, his hips jerked up into his own touch and he moaned again; louder. “O-oh, stars!”

More. He needed more friction on that glorious little nerve and greedily offered it to himself. Instead of rolling his clit between his fingers, he flattened three against himself and began grinding up into his hand. It felt embarrassing to be doing this—he was practically humping himself—but it felt good and with a needy whine that echoed around him, he turned himself around onto his knees and leaned forward on an elbow as he drove himself harder against his hand; clit deliciously stimulated and fingers starting to dampen as they brushed against his soft, concealing lips that were beginning to glisten with desire. Stars, just a little touching and he already felt so desperate for more .

Unable to help himself, he gave into his desires quickly.

Pressing his forward against the floor and spreading his legs wider, he pushed open his lips and teased his slit with a single finger. His clit was throbbing in a plea for more attention but he did his best to ignore that need for now as he prodded at his pussy with his phalange. He could take one easily, he knew. It wasn’t something he did all that often but this wasn’t Geno’s first time masturbating and he knew well enough what he liked and what he could take. One finger right off the bat would be easy.

Impatient, he pushed in three.

“A-ah!” He cried out, head tipped back and grin falling open with a loud, drawn out moan. It should have hurt more than it did but, oddly, the burn of being stretched so hurriedly felt good. “Ah, a-ah, ah!”

Stars, he could hear how wet he was. He could feel it, too, but the slick sounds of his fingers pleasuring himself was obscenely loud in the silence of the void. The sounds nearly echoed and Geno found himself trying to focus on something else— anything else—in an attempt to ignore them. He had a shitty imagination though, so he decided focusing on making himself better would have to do as a distraction.

Body trembling with pleasure and phalanges driving into his own hot, wet heat, he tucked his other arm between his legs and pressed into his clit insistently, the texture of bone so, so, so good against the flesh. He tried to curl his thrusting fingers just as he twisted the little nub of magic but, while the sensations had him crying out, he found that he couldn’t quite find his g-spot. Whimpering desperately, he curled his fingers again and tried to find it once more. Then again, and again, and again…

“C-come on!” He whined needily. “F-find it, find it!”

Fuck, he needed it. His fingers felt good inside him and on his clit but he needed to find that perfect little bundle inside him. He always had trouble with it though, and it seemed like it would be no easier this time around. Desperate, he attempted to push his fingers inside deeper but his phalanges were annoyingly short and their reach was limited.

Stars, why couldn’t he have pianist-esque fingers like Reaper?

Oh, fuck.

Reaper.

Whimpering, he pushed his hips against his plunging phalanges and fucked himself just a little harder. Reaper’s hands were bigger than his; his fingers longer, yet thinner. His touch was cooler, too, he knew, recalling the two brief moments their hands had met. Geno’s own magic ran hot ever since it shifted from blue to red but he could remember the feeling of his once-cool fingers pressing into his burning magic. Now; however, it wasn’t his own hands he thought of as he pulled up the memory of that icier touch. Instead, it was...it was…

“Reaper!” He mewled, pushing back against his hand harder as he drove his fingers into himself faster. Still searching for his g-spot, he all but screamed when he finally brushed against it and attempted to aim for it again all while abusing his clit with firmly pinching fingers. “Oh, o-oh, please! P-please, please! M-more!”

And, mercifully, Reaper gave him more.

Skeletal fingers were ruthless as they plunged deep into his heat, alternating between curling against the bundle of nerves that made him shriek and spreading to stretch his tight, fluttering walls. When Geno cried with his pleasure, begging for even more, a fourth finger eased it way inside and fingertips dug into his clit in a way that sent a jolt down his spine. It was just an especially hard pinch, he knew, but it was easy to picture the sharp pleasure as a bite instead.

Oh, stars. A bite. Teeth.

Reaper’s head was between his legs.

“A-again!” He begged, pushed up against the god’s mouth with a pitiful moan. Stars, that felt so good. Reaper felt so good… “P-please, again, again!”

That same sharp nip on his clit, fingers forcing him open and slick with his pleasure…

“Y-yes! Yes!” Geno cried, writhing as his stomach began winding up tightly. So close. So, so close… “A-ah! Ah! I...I’m gonna...”

The fingers fucking him pulled out all at once…

“G-Geno?!”

...only slam back in.

Socket clenched shut tightly, Geno threw his head back and came, the pleasure combined with the imagining of Reaper’s voice more than enough to send him over the edge and spiraling into completion.

…

…

…

Oh no.

Oh no, no, no.

Panting and shaking with the aftershocks of his orgasm, Geno quickly slid his fingers from dripping pussy and rolled onto his back. Mortified, he ignored the cum staining his hand in order to hide his face as he fought the urge to scream for an entirely different reason than the one just had.

He thought the dream he had a while ago was a fluke.

He hoped it was a fluke.

There was no way it could have meant something, right? It was just a dirty dream starring the first person his mind threw in to replace what would have been a faceless figure. It was just a one time, dirty dream that meant nothing .

He was supposed to masturbate to nothing and prove that dream meant nothing.

He wasn’t supposed to...to…

Screaming, he viciously tried to force the heat he felt on his face away.

He wasn’t supposed to think of Reaper, damnit!

Unfortunately, Geno was well aware of what this meant.

He didn’t…. Geno just didn’t think of people when it came to indulging certain desires, okay? If he felt the need to relieve himself, he just...did it. No faces and no real imagination was put into the lewd act and he got through it all just fine. If he did think of someone; however, that usually meant that he...he....

…

…

…

“Oh stars.” he whispered, completely mortified. “I have a crush on Reaper.”

Never in his life had he teleported so quickly.

Sockets wide, Reaper stared at the wall of his bedroom with a stunned expression painted across his face in cyan.

He just…

He saw…

“G-Geno?!”

Chest pressed to the floor and legs spread as he kneeled, an absolutely sinful noise escaped Geno as he withdrew wet, color-tinted fingers from his sex before suddenly driving them back into himself; hard. Back arching and head tilted, an intense expression of utter euphoria settled on Geno’s face as the smaller skeleton shouted his pleasure to the void as he reached completion.

Frozen, Reaper just barely managed to disappear before the smaller rolled onto his back.

“I saw Geno cum.” He whispered, stuck somewhere between guilty arousal and horrified embarrassment. “I know what he looks like when he has an orgasm.”

…

…

…

“Oh stars.” The god groaned, covering his face with his hands. “I’m a dirty peeping tom.”

He saw Geno have an orgasm. He walked in on Geno in an obviously private moment and instead of backing out the moment he realized what was going on, he stood there like a dirty, perverted idiot and watched his crush have an orgasm. That was...that was bad. Shit, that was so, so bad. He should apologize, right?

How the hell did he apologize for that?!

Reaper could barely string up a coherent sentence around the smaller skeleton on a good day! Stars, he was still recovering from his embarrassing attempt at flirting from yesterday (“You’re, uh, your blood is red. It’s…it looks nice. I like red.”). How was he supposed to look Geno in the eye after seeing that and apologizing for seeing it?! Shit, shit, shit! His magazines didn’t say anything about having to deal with this!

Panicking, Reaper decided that he’d just pretend it didn’t happen…

...and that he needed to take a shower.

Cold, preferably.

“I’m never ditching work again.”

Chapter Text

UIf the dating manual was to be believed, then communication was vital in a relationship. Reaper was still trying to get into a relationship but this fact seemed important for his wooing, too. Communication = falling in love! Got it.

There was just one little, itty bitty issue…

He and Geno weren’t speaking.

The thing is, they weren’t angry at each other. Well, Reaper wasn’t angry at Geno, at least, and he was pretty sure the smaller skeleton wasn’t angry at him either. Reaper was still visiting, after all, and he was never kicked out or outright ignored like he had been at the start of their friendship. He showed up, sat down, and…

...well, and nothing.

No, really. And nothing.

See, whenever Reaper stopped by for a visit, neither of them did anything. Neither of them said anything and he could not for the life of him figure out what was going on. Okay, no. That’s a lie. Reaper knew his own reasons for not being able to muster up any words and all of them were centered around that little private moment he stumbled across a few days ago. He was pretending that didn’t happen though (and he was trying really, really hard to stop dreaming about it) so he was going to stop thinking about why he felt so tongue tied around the smaller skeleton. All that mattered was that he had some very valid reasons for his mind going blank around Geno and his sudden inability to look at the glitch without turning blue.

Geno probably had a good reason for his own silence but Reaper had to admit that he couldn’t really think of any. Like he said, he was pretty sure that Geno wasn’t mad at him, even if the smaller skeleton kept greeting him with angry scowls and flushes. His face screamed angry, yes, but Geno was usually a lot more vocal about his anger and hadn’t really been lashing out so much as he had been staring intently, as though trying to set him on fire with his gaze. Well, when he thought Reaper wasn’t looking, at least.

Reaper knew his lack of eye lights made it difficult for people to track his line of sight and Geno didn’t seem to be an exception to this. The smaller skeleton would stare intently until he made it obvious that he was watching Geno watch him by tilting his head in the other’s direction. Whenever he did that; however, the glitch would hurriedly turn his head in another direction in order to pretend he hadn’t been staring at the god. It was kind of weird but Reaper had to admit that he liked the attention. He could pretend Geno was staring lovingly in his direction~

Stars, he wished Geno was actually staring lovingly in his direction.

As much as he liked the staring, Reaper really, really, really didn’t like this silence between them. To be fair, they both tried to break it multiple times but nothing seemed to really stick. It was like there was a tension in the air that kept interfering with their usual conversation and Reaper just...didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t fix whatever was up with Geno though, so it looked like he was going to have to focus on himself instead. If he could get pass how flustered he felt, then maybe he’d be able to get their usual conversations going again.

Somehow, he felt like his magazines weren’t going to help him with this issue so, instead, he went to an expert.

Alphys.

The moment he heard her excuse herself from the marathon going on downstairs to use the restroom, he pounced. “Tell me how to flirt with someone when you can’t even look them in the eye.” he demanded, cornering her the second she was up the stairs.

A few shades paler, the goddess stared at him with wide, confused eyes. Huh, shouldn’t she be breathing? “W-w-what?”

Annoyed, he repeated himself. When the goddess remained silent, he scowled a bit and leaned in closer to make sure she hadn’t passed out standing up or anything. “Well?” he pushed with a frown, thumbs ready over the notes app he had open on his phone. “Are you going to answer me, or not?”

“C-can I,” swallowing nervously, Alphys gestured to the bathroom. “um, can I...u-use the bathroom f-first?”

“Fine.”

Carefully locking the door behind her and calmly making her way to the sink, Alphys looked her reflection in the eye…

...and began panicking.

“Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh.” she whispered, nervously turning on the sink in an attempt to drown out her already quiet voice. “Death wants dating advice from me. Death wants dating advice from me. Death wants dating advice and he’s totally going to kill me if I don’t give him any.”

Wait.

“Death wants dating advice?!”

Slapping a hand over her mouth when her words rang a little louder than she intended for them to get, Alphys nervously glanced at the door to make sure it was still locked before sinking down onto the cold tile floor in hopes that the coolness would calm her down. If it didn’t, she might actually explode.

Sans, the oldest god of death, wanted dating advice.

She didn’t know if she should squeal or not. On one hand, that was absolutely adorable! Oh, Alphys loved a good romance! It was one of her favorite genres of anime, actually, and the thought of one of her kind-of friends being in love filled her with the kind of bright, bubbly happiness that made her want to jump around and squee. That being said, the kind-of friend in question was Sans and she had no clue what to do with that information. He…he wasn’t actually in love, was he?!

Only, Alphys wasn’t just plain old Alphys. She was Knowledge and with a sudden certainty that she would never quite be able to describe, she knew in that instant that, yes, he was.

Stars, Sans was in love with someone.

And he was asking her for advice!

“I could be his senpai in love.” she whispered excitedly before nervousness filled her again. “Oh no. What if I give him bad advice?! I should...I should just stay in this bathroom. Yeah, he can’t ask me anything if I stay in here.”

“Actually, I can.”

Shrieking, Alphys jumped to her feet and clumsily spun around to face Death himself. “S-Sans!”

“You’re taking too long.” The god informed her with an irritated tone. “I didn’t hear anything but the sink so I figured you were done. Now,” looking at her with dark, intent eyes, he smiled. She was pretty sure the expression knocked off a few years of her life. “How do you flirt with someone when you can’t bring yourself to look them in the eye?”

“U-um, well, y-you…” Oh stars, she wished he asked someone else. Alphys really wasn’t sure how she landed herself a wife. “You c-can try to w-work up to looking t-them in the eye? I mean, uh, eye contact isn’t necessary for talking r-right? Or, um, f-flirting.”

“I thought eye contact when talking to someone was polite?” Sans questioned, looking a little confused. “Isn’t it intimate, too? How are you supposed to flirt without intimate eye contact?”

“Um, w-well…” What had she and Undyne done?! “...a m-majority of our language comes from body l-language! You could u-use your, uh, body? I m-mean, um, turning towards him—” him . Somehow, she knew it had to be a him. “—or leaning into h-him would s-show you’re interested. I, uh, I use t-to turn towards Undyne w-without really realizing I was doing it. Also, i-if you really can’t look him in the e-eye you could try staring at something c-close enough to make look like you a-are? Like...l-like the tip of his nose!”

“He doesn’t have one.” Sans murmured absently as he quickly typed away on his phone. Oh, his phone!

“Y-you could text each other! It’s, um. It’s a l-lot easier to be bold when you c-can’t see your crushes face…” Alphys wasn’t really a violent person but she would have killed for cellphones to be around when she began fumbling through things with Undyne. “I-is that all?”

“One more thing. Well,” a thoughtful expression briefly crossed the god’s face. “two, actually. How did you get over your reaction to seeing Undyne naked?”

What?!

“I...I...I…” she stuttered, face hot. “T-that’s, u-uh, I...I…”

Shameless, Sans continued pressing for more information. “Did it take you a long time to stop blushing whenever you saw her after? If so, how long? More than a few days? A month? Did seeing her naked that first time fill you with... urges?”

Oh stars. Oh stars. Oh stars. “W-what was y-your other question?”

“Oh,the second thing wasn’t a question.” Sans said nonchalantly. When she looked at him in confusion, he smiled brightly and leaned in dangerously close. “It’s a warning.” Smile transitioning into a wide, threatening grin, Death looked at her with a dark promise in his dark, dark eyes. “I know you can’t help knowing things, Knowledge. Information is what you’re made of and you have no say in the little facts you learn. That being said…” voice low as if telling her a secret, he whispered that “I do so sincerely hope you know how much better for yourself I’d be to keep what you’ve managed to pick up today a secret. I’d hate for news of my affections to get out.”

Yellow skin gone sickly white, Alphys didn’t dare to so much as breathe as she promised the other deity that she wouldn’t tell a soul. As Sans’ threatening smile dropped to his usual grin and he nodded at her in thanks, she remained still and only allowed herself to move after he vanished. Giggling hysterically, she slumped back down to the ground.

Death was in love…

...and it was the scariest thing she had ever seen.

…

…

…

Okay, and still really, really cute.

When Geno awoke from his nap, he found a small, neatly wrapped box sitting innocently just about a foot before him. Blinking sleepily, he slowly sat up and yawned as he reached for the gift, admittedly pretty use to finding things left for him while he slept. Curious yet excited, he quickly tore through the wrapping paper—black, of course—and peered down at the small, rectangular box he now held. There was a post-it note on the top saying to be careful so he made sure not to jostle whatever was inside around as he pulled the top off.

Oh, it was a phone.

What the hell was he supposed to do with this?

Frowning in confusion, he picked up the sleek, black phone and fiddled around with it until the correct button lit up the screen. It was fully charged apparently but the battery wouldn’t last forever. Even if it did what would it matter? It wasn’t like the phone would—

Bzzz, bzzz!

—work.

Stunned, he stared at the little notification banner hanging from the top of his screen. Seconds later, more popped up.

Unknown Number

Testing, testing! 1, 2, 3!

Geno~

Genoooooo~

Is this working?

Oh, you might still be asleep

Well, when you see this, text me back!

K? :)

Unless this isn’t working…

Aw, please work :’(

More than just a little confused, he tapped on one of the notifications and waited until it took him to his messages before carefully typing on the little key board.

Unknown Number

Reaper?

Geno!!! :D

How in the world is this working?

There’s no internet!

Or service!

How are we texting?!

No clue!

Honestly, I wasn’t sure this would even work.

Glad to see it did though~

Now we can talk even when I have to leave!

Get ready for 24/7 Reaper, baby! ;)

Baby.

Baby.

Suddenly extremely grateful that Reaper wasn’t here to see his face, Geno shifted around on the floor in an attempt to get comfortable before returning his attention back to the phone. The phone that worked in the save screen, of all places.

Unknown Number

Don’t call me that, idiot.

Also…

I’m assuming you’re the one that got me the phone?

Don’t call you what?

Baby?

And yep~ picked the phone out myself and everything!

Like it? :)

Yes, that. Don’t call me that. It’s weird.

You’re not my dad, idiot, and I’m certainly not your baby.

And I guess I do.

You didn’t need to buy me one though.

I’m fine with waiting for you to show up.

Why didn’t you put your contact info in, by the way?

It just says “Unknown Number”.

I may not be your dad, but you can still call me Daddy;)

Nearly dropping the phone when he began choking at the message, Geno stared at the words with a burning face and wide, startled eyes. Before he could even begin thinking of a response to that , a barrage of messages began pouring in.

Oh stars

That was creepy, wasn’t it?

I’m sorry

Please ignore that

It sounded better in my head

No

That’s a lie

It was just as skeevy in my head

Please tell me you know how to delete messages

Actually, it’s fine if you don’t

I'll

Just

Keep

Sending

Messages

Until

I

Can’t

See

It

Anymore

Please just answer my question so that I can forget this ever happened

What was your question again?

Please, please don’t make scroll up to read it

Why didn’t you put in your contact information?

You left your number as an unknown number.

Oh!!!

It’s your phone now, so you get to decide my contact name!

Want to know yours?:3

No.

Too bad~

It’s…

Wait for it…

Let the suspense build…

Get that anticipation rising…

…

…

…

The dramatic pause is almost over…

…

…

…

You’re an idiot.

It’s Gorgeous Glitch!

Hey!!!:(

You ruined my dramatic pause!!!

Geno?

Genoooo?

Are you there?

“Gorgeous?” He squeaked. “W-what...what the hell?”

Reaper was calling him gorgeous?! Why was he…? That wasn’t…

Unknown Number

I’m not gorgeous.

Idiot.

You’re still there! :D

Wait

What do you mean you’re not gorgeous?!

You’re BEAUTIFUL!

Beautiful.

Reaper was calling him beautiful now, too.

His crush was calling him of all monsters beautiful.

That was…

It…

…

…

…

Oh.

He knew what this was.

Unknown Number

Haha.

You’re very funny.

Good one.

It was a joke.

Frowning around the straw of his drink, Reaper stared at the screen of his phone with a displeased expression as his previous nervousness faded into disbelief. Funny? Good one? Did...did Geno think he was joking? That…

That wouldn’t do.

Hidden safely behind a screen and feeling all the more confident for it, Reaper bit his straw in concentration and began rapidly typing up another slew of messages; determined to ensure Geno knew he wasn’t poking fun at him.

Gorgeous Glitch

I’m serious, you know?

You’re really pretty, Geno.

Unless you’d prefer to be called handsome, that is.

Either way, you’re absolutely stunning.

You’re height is really endearing.

And your blood is cute in a really morbid way.

You have nice hands?

Well, that isn’t really a question. You have really cute, small hands but I’m not sure if that’s a weird compliment or not.

You’re just…

You’re beautiful.

Glitches and blood and all.

Dijjswkdjsjxnsamn

Uh…?

Geno??? o.O

Sorry.

I tripped.

Um, thanks, by the way.

That’s…

Safe from prying eyes in his save screen, Geno allowed himself a small, flustered smile as he reread the messages sent just a few seconds ago.

“Sweet.” he murmured, voice warm.

…

…

…

Oh.

Fuck no.

He was supposed to be ignoring this crush, damnit!

Unknown Number

That’s…

Really stupid.

And just for good measure…

Death/Reaper

Idiot.

Blinking at the insulting messages, Reaper thoughtfully sipped at his drink before slowly smiling.

Somehow, he didn’t think Geno meant those messages.

A little curious, he decided to try something out.

Gorgeous Genocide

Are you blushing?

I bet you are:)

I bet it’s cute, too;)

Jifkewd

Did you ‘trip’ again?

That’s okay…

...clumsiness is adorable;)

Dwnidjwjeewdnksw

“Oh my stars.” he whispered gleefully. “He can’t handle compliments, can he?”

Reaper…

...was definitely going to abuse this knowledge.

…

…

…

Through texting, of course.

He still couldn’t look Geno in the eyes without turning blue, after all.

Cute.

Adorable.

Hiding his face in his scarf, Geno begged the stars for the sweet embrace of Death so that he wouldn’t have to deal with these feel—

Sweet embrace of Death….?

…

…

…

“I HATE THIS FUCKING CRUSH!”

Chapter Text

Gorgeous Glitch

It’s morning~

So~

Good morning, Gorgeous ;)

Read ✓

Hours later and still no reply.

Reaper was getting a little worried.

Honestly? The smaller skeleton was most likely asleep. It wasn’t unusual for Geno to take frequent naps throughout the day, after all. Being trapped within an infinite void with nothing to entertain yourself with but the clothes on your back and the option of watching your friends and family get murdered got a little boring. Depressing, too, but mostly very, very boring. Having a phone should have helped alleviate some of that boredom but Geno was adorably terrible with the sleek smartphone Reaper had chosen for him and didn’t bother using it outside of texting. Instead, the glitch napped to entertain himself. Reaper knew this.

It’s just...one or two hours? Nothing to worry about. Five hours, however? That alone was a little long for Geno’s usual naps. Even if it hadn’t been abnormal, Reaper could clearly see the read receipt that informed him that the other skeleton had seen his message and the fact that Geno didn’t respond simply didn’t sit right with him. A month full of frequent texting was more than enough time for him to get use to Geno’s texting habits and the glitch always responded the moment he read a message. Always.

Part of Reaper wanted to storm the save screen to make sure that everything was okay but he was a little hesitant to actually do so. See, texting made him feel confident. Geno never had to see him blushing and didn’t have to know that, most of the time, he was fumbling through his notes for an idea of what to say. He had an entire notebook dedicated to compliments he thought of and discussion topics that he somehow always messed up in person but managed to nail over the phone. He still went to see Geno in person, of course, but being face to face with the other, smaller skeleton always crumbled whatever confidence he built up through texting. Reaper swore he was making Geno blush whenever he said something smooth in a message but he was such a bumbling idiot in person that it felt like all he succeeded in was solidifying himself as some sort of creepy, stuttery weirdo in Geno’s head. What if he teleported over and Geno really was just taking an especially long nap?! Or worse. What if he was….

Ecto a pretty red, plush thighs spread lewdly, fingers slick with—

Nope.

Not happening.

He was not thinking about that. Not again.

And he certainly wasn’t wondering if Geno was doing that again…

Reaper should probably make sure that everything was actually okay, though. In person. Since Geno wasn’t texting him back and all.

Bzz, bzz.

Damnit, Geno was texting him back.

Gorgeous Glitch

Ru coming 2day

That...wasn’t normal. Geno didn’t text like that at all.

Gorgeous Glitch

Geno?

You okay?

I’m fine

Just

Ru coming or wat

Yeah, I was planning on coming over later.

Why?

Miss me?:3

No

When u coming

I was going to go over in a few hours.

But I can go now?

I mean, if you want.

...Pls

Yeah, something was definitely wrong.

Pocketing his phone and taking special care to brush off the bit of dust on his clothing, Reaper took a quick glance around to make sure his current work was done before throwing himself into a multidimensional shortcut.

The moment he stepped out into the darkness his crush called home, the thick, overwhelming scent of something sweet crashed over him. Honey, he thought. The save screen smelt of honey.

“R-Reaper…”

Turning towards the direction of the voice with a greeting on the tip of his tongue, Reaper froze the instant his sockets landed on the glitch he came to see.

Geno was crying.

Curled up in a tight little ball with his scarf and sweater clutched in his arms, the smaller skeleton stared up at him with a watery socket and a tear stained face set into an expression of distress. He was trembling, Reaper couldn’t help but notice, nearly flinching at the way the sorrowful appearance of the other pulled at his heartstrings. Geno hadn’t cried around him since their first meeting.

Reaper forgot how meek and small it made him look.

“Geno…?” He murmured worriedly, hesitantly taking a few steps closer to the sniffling skeleton. Unsure of what to do, he stopped about a foot away and crouched. “Is...is something wro- whoa!”

Suddenly, he was flat on the ass he didn’t have with a lap full of weepy skeleton. Flushing a bright, noticeable cyan, the god stuttered terribly as he attempted to think of something to say to the glitch now clinging to him. Only…. Pausing, he frowned upon realizing that Geno was saying something; the smaller’s words muffled into his shoulder. Hesitantly leaning down a bit, he tried to pick out the words.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Geno whimpered, arms wrapping around his neck and legs circling his waist. “I’m sorry.”

“G-Geno?”

“I’m sorry!”

“H-hey, hey! It’s...it’s okay.” He tried to comfort, unsurely patting the other on the back. Stars, he didn’t know where to put his limbs. “You don’t have anything to be sorry about!”

Whining loudly, Geno tightened his hold around him and remained silent. Clearly, the smaller didn’t want to talk. That...that was fine! He didn’t have to. Reaper could...could…

He had no idea what to do.

“Did...did something happen…?” Geno could watch the genocides, right? “Was it...your….?”

Hearing the word left unsaid in the question, Geno shook his head. He still didn’t respond, though. Instead, he somehow burrowed deeper into Reaper’s nonexistent embrace—seriously, someone tell him where to put his arms please—and continued his mantra of apologies. When he shifted to get even closer, Reaper’s sockets got very, very wide.

Geno was crying. It was only natural his robe would get a little wet.

…

…

…

Somehow, he was positive tears weren’t the reason his lap was damp.

“G-Geno?!” He all but shrieked, voice jumping into a high, panicky soprano. Around them, the sugary sweet scent of honey grew suffocating and his head nearly clouded with a sudden burning desire to— Nope. Not thinking about that right now. “A-are...are you…?”

In heat, he wanted to ask but couldn’t bring himself to say.

Sobbing in a mixture of need and embarrassment, Geno nodded. Then, he shook his head. “P-pre…” the smaller whimpered. “Pre-heat.”

Oh. Okay. Pre-heat.

Reaper could handle that.

Hopefully.

Despite the evidence of Geno’s excitement , pre heats weren’t typically sexual in nature. There were usually signs that the body was preparing itself for intercourse, hence the smaller’s, uh, leaking, but the handful of days leading up to the start of the actual heat were all about preparation; though that preparation differed monster to monster. Geno wasn’t trying to claw his clothing off so Reaper was pretty sure the smaller skeleton wasn’t one of the rare few who got down to business days ahead, but he wasn’t all that certain what Geno did during his pre heat period. Or why he was here.

“Do you...need me to leave…?” Reaper asked hesitantly, unsure if Geno wanted him here to help or if the glitch had simply been attempting to keep up appearances with their usual meetings. “I can go if you need me to, Geno.”

“Please stay.” Geno begged “I...I’m sorry. I know i-it’s weird but I…”

“You…?”

Face hidden, the smaller skeleton whined. “I n-need you.”

I need you.

I need you.

I need you.

“O-okay!” He squeaked. “I c-can stay!”

Taking the unusual octave of the god’s voice as discomfort, Geno flinched. “I’m s-sorry!”

“H-hey, no, you’re fine!” He reassured the other. “It’s... you’re fine, Geno. You’re fine.” Attempting and some-what succeeding to control his voice, he continued comforting the glitch. “I don’t mind helping you out, Geno. Just, um, t-tell me what you need me to do? I guess? Like, I can go run and get you snacks! If you, uh, if you want anything, that is.”

“...Just...just hold me...please…”

Holy shit Geno wanted to be held.

By him.

Him!

‘It’s just the pre-heat talking.’ Reaper reminded himself. ‘Don’t get too excited.’

Despite his eagerness, Reaper really had no idea how to go about this. The last—and only—person he held had been Papyrus, and that was all the way back when Paps was just a little fledgling. Geno wasn’t a godling coming to him for comfort because he had a nightmare and was afraid, though. No, Geno was a (kind of) healthy, adult man who was, well, still coming to him for comfort but for an entirely different reason. He should him differently, right? Wait. Were there even different ways to hold someone?! Unsure, the god settled for carefully wrapping his arms around the smaller skeleton’s waist. There. That should do.

“Is this okay?” He questioned, just to be sure. “I, uh, I don’t really have a lot of experience with this whole cuddling thing.”

Shit! Why did he call it cuddling?! Cuddling was romantic. He was holding , Geno! Not—

“Is that why you’re bad at it?” Geno murmured, unintentionally halting his panicky thoughts. Face still wet with tears but no longer crying, the smaller skeleton pulled his face from Reaper now damp shoulder and looked up at him with a magic-rimmed socket. “I...I can get off if you’re uncomfortable. Y-you’re really stiff.”

‘I’m trying really hard not be stiff .’ Chuckling nervously, he shook his head with what he hoped was a confident smile and pointedly tightened his embrace a bit. “You’re fine where you are. I, uh, I…” Be smooth. Please, please be smooth. “...I’m pretty lucky, actually! I-it’s not everyday you f-find yourself with a beautiful s-skeleton on your lap, after all.” That was slick, righ—

Oh no, no, no.

“I-I’m sorry!” Geno exclaimed as he rushed to crawl off Reaper’s lap. Expression horrified, he covered his face with his hands and curled up in absolute mortification. “I’m s-sorry. I...I…”

“It’s not your fault!” There was that damn high, squeaky voice again. “I-it’s j-just your body g-getting ready to, uh, t-to…” Staring at his lap where a now sizable portion of his robe was damp, Reaper tried really, really hard not to think about the reason behind the wet spot being tinted magic-red. Or why it felt larger than earlier. “...um, you know …”

“Please kill me…” The smaller skeleton begged, face still hidden behind his hands but skull very clearly a bright, embarrassed red. “I’m s-sorry. I...I should have just told you not to come.”

‘I don’t think I’m the one that came, Geno.’ He thought but did not dare to say. It wasn’t that accurate of a thought, anyways. Reaper saw how messy it was when Geno really—No. Nope. That memory was not helping, damnit. “It...i-its fine. You, u-um, obviously wanted s-some help. I’m happy to be t-that help.”

Certain desires aside, Reaper honestly was more than happy to help. Heats were private affairs but Geno still turned to him for aid. Logically, he knew that there wasn’t really anyone else to turn to but it still made him feel good that he was the one helping out his crush. On an instinctual level only strengthened by the sweet scent he was trying to ignore, Reaper felt proud. He was the one comforting his cute, little mat—

Bad thoughts. Bad, bad thoughts, right there.

Geno wasn’t his mate.

Geno wasn’t even his .

Yet.

“U-um. We can c-cuddle more, if y-you want.” He said, desperately trying to push back the possessive instincts that screamed at him to curl around the other, smaller skeleton protectively. “You’ll have to, uh, s-show me how it’s done, though.”

Shyly peeking through his fingers, Geno shook his head in denial. “I...I’ll w-wreck your robe…”

‘Stars, wreck me instead, please.’ Shit. Shit. Shit. He had to stop thinking thoughts like that. “I have more. It’s okay, Geno. It’s…” Stars, that honey scent was making him dizzy. “more than okay, really.”

Although it was clear the smaller skeleton was still unsure about taking Reaper up on his offer, Geno’s pre-heat driven desires were too strong to ignore and the glitch soon found himself crawling back onto the god’s lap. Plopping himself on the taller’s lap and leaning into the god’s chest, Geno very clearly did not meet Reaper’s gaze as he snuggled in close. Honestly, that was probably for the best. His face was almost entirely cyan and he was sure his expression was somewhere between ‘holy shit this is how I die’ and ‘where the fuck do I put my hands’. Reaper didn’t really want any of those expressions to be seen.

“C-can you…um…” Adorably red, Geno hesitantly adjusted Reaper’s arms so they were wrapped back around him. “like that, please. But, um, tighter.”

“Like this?" Carefully, he made his hold firmer.

“Y-yeah.” Geno murmured. “I...I know you have work and all but can...can you…?”

“Stay?”

Eye light averted, the smaller skeleton slowly nodded. “S-sorry. I shouldn’t ask. You...y-you already have a lot on your plate. I just...it…”

“...helps.” He finished in a quiet, soothing voice. “Being here and holding you helps, doesn’t it?”

“...Yes…”

For once, Reaper didn’t try to be smooth. He didn’t fumble for a compliment or desperately search for the best possible thing to say or even hide behind a screen where boldness came so much easier. Instead, his shadowy gaze softened and his usual grin curled into something caring as he spoke without thought. “Work or a beautiful skeleton? The choice is clear, really. There’s absolutely nowhere else I’d rather be than here, Gen.”

And he proved it, too.

Throughout the three days that Geno’s pre-heat lasted, Reaper remained in the save screen with said smaller skeleton almost always on his lap. Whenever Geno fell asleep and loosened his grip, he crept out in order to do a little shopping. It had to be quick in order to ensure the glitch wouldn’t wake while he was gone but Reaper was surprisingly productive when he wanted to be and managed to get quite a few things per trip. Food, water, comfortable blankets and soft, fluffy pillows. He had to guess on the sizes but he even picked out a few pieces of extra clothing for Geno to wear since his shorts were, uh, getting a little dirty. By the time the smaller skeleton began transitioning into his full on heat and Reaper was forced to leave lest the thick honey scent drive him to something they’d both regret, Geno was as comfortable and prepared as he could be given his circumstances.

And very thankful for his help.

Blissfully floating pass Papyrus and waving off his brother’s concerns on where he had been for the last few days, Reaper sighed dreamily as he made his way to his room. Cheerfully shutting his door to drown out Papyrus’ lecture, he flopped onto his bed with a bright smile and a cyan face.

Geno kissed him.

Well, he barely skimmed his cheek with his teeth but still! It was a kiss! Reaper got a kiss and he didn’t even need his magazines for help!

Ecstatic, he buried his face in his pillow and screamed.

If things kept going this well, then who knew what else the future would have in store? Maybe he’d get to stick around for Geno’s heat one day!

…

…

…

Pfft. Talk about wishful thinking.

(Quite a Few Years Later)

One minute Reaper was working and the next red strings were dragging him through a portal and pinning him to his bed.

Honestly? This wasn’t so bad.

“I thought you were being oddly cuddly this week.” he chuckled, staring heatedly at the smaller skeleton looming over the bed threateningly. Well, as much as a panting, red faced skeleton dressed in an over-sized robe could be, that is. “You’re looking a little flushed, honey . Need some help?”

“I h-hate you.” Geno growled, sockets lidded as he directed a few stray strings to clumsily tug the knots on the god’s ropes loose. Trembling, the smaller skeleton whined at the first hint of bone and eagerly climbed onto the bed to crawl towards his bound husband. “Y-you knew my heat was g-going to start for g-good today. You knew a-and you s-still went to work!”

“I have responsibilities. Gen.” Reaper teased.

“Responsibilities?” The error hissed. “ Responsibilities? Right now, you’re only responsibility is to fuck me through this heat, you asshole!”

More red threads appeared to capture his ankles and whatever witty comment he had planned was thrown out the window the moment those strings yanked . Legs forced open, Reaper found himself helpless against his husband’s desire as the other, smaller skeleton all but purred at the sight of his stirring magic and eagerly dove in to coax the swirling cyan into Reaper’s usual shape with his tongue.

Head tipping back with a loud, pleasure-filled groan, Reaper closed his sockets and let himself drown in the sugar sweet scent of honey that filled the room.

Man, talk about a dream come true.

Chapter Text

Did you know there was a weakness shared among the gods?

“Did you hear? Did you hear the news?”

Despite all their power...

“What news? Tell me, tell me!”

...regardless of their ranks…

“Do you really want to know?”

“Yes, yes! Tell me!”

“A godling has been born!”

...and in spite of all those long years and their wisdom…

“Born? Not made? How exciting!”

“No, no! You don’t understand! The godling is...his.”

“His?”

“His!”

“No, you can’t mean him!”

“I do mean him!”

“He has a child?!”

“Yes, yes! He has a child!”

...gods were terrible gossips.

“It must be a trick! A lie! Such a terrible thing cannot be!”

“There are no tricks! No lies! He has a child!”

“How can this be?! What twisted magic brought this curse upon us?!”

Oh it seemed so silly, didn’t it? That’s it? Gossip? Gossip was the weakness of the gods? No one would blame you for your disbelief.

The gods were meant to be above us, weren’t they? Unseen by mortals but envisioned majestically in a thousand different ways, the gods were creatures thought to be of great renown: powerful and beautiful and unparalleled by any other beings in so many different ways, yet something as mundane and mortal as gossip was meant to be a weakness? Surely the gods were all far too dignified to fall prey to something meant for schoolyards!

Well, they weren’t.

You see, out of all the things mortals simply couldn’t comprehend about the gods, one of the biggest truths was just how unbearably  boring things got after a few thousand years of life. The sun came up again? Woooow, great job sun god! You’ve been doing that for so long everyone lost count. What’s this? The...the leaves are changing? You do that every year, nature gods. How shocking. Not.

Barely anything was shocking anymore!

Which was why rumors interested those in the godly realm so much.

“I heard a rumor that he stole away a soul to keep as a lover!”

“A soul!?”

“Yes, yes! To survive his touch they had to be dead, so he stole away some poor soul to be his bride!”

“Surely the king wouldn’t allow this?”

“They say that’s why he’s been so sour with him! That Asgore learned of his horrid deed but discovered it too late!”

“Too late?”

“The rumors say that he bound the soul to himself with a forbidden magic so strong even the king himself can’t break it!”

“Oh, that poor soul! Wedded to a monster for all of eternity! I can’t even imagine how terrible that must be. Do you...do you think they were forced to bear the child?”

“Well, I heard another rumor…”

No one gossiped about the seasons changing or the brightness of the stars because all of those things had been around nearly as long as the oldest of them all. Sometimes a love affair caught a bit of the spotlight but even then the ones involved were usually always going around causing a bit of trouble and had their shenanigans yawned at and mostly overlooked. The god of grass was a homewrecker? Everyone already knew! Boring .

It was only when something new came around that the rumors began and the gossip started to spread. Gods were such creatures of habit that changes in patterns and oddities in behavior drew the attention of everyone around like moths to a flame. And lately? Well, lately a certain god had been back in the news after nearly a year of uninteresting acts to scratch their heads over.

“...that he tricked the soul into believing they’re in love!”

“No!”

“Yes! Someone claims to have seen The Destroyer around and everyone knows he has that weird thing with The Protector. Apparently, The Protector has these odd vials filled with emotion—stars knows what he does with them—and The Destroyer was convinced to steal one to make the soul feel affection for that terrible, terrible god!”

“How vile!”

“Isn’t it?! So now the soul thinks they’re in love and gladly bore him a child! But there’s more!”

“More?! Oh, do tell!”

Every ear in the realm was kept open for whatever news floated around about the god. There were so many rumors and assumptions going around that no one was quite sure what the truth really was but it was so fun to gather around and trade new facts that this or that person learned. It was childish and foolish behavior that really should have been below them all, but it was interesting !

“I heard that Death won’t stop there. One isn’t enough, they’re saying. No, he plans to bear an army of fiends! One large enough to overthrow the king himself!”

“No! Impossible!”

“But true!”

“He must be stopped!”

“Oh, he will be.”

“I see the mischief in your eyes! Tell me, tell me!”

“I really shouldn’t.”

“Tell me!”

“If you insist! You see, they’re saying that…”

Rumors were so fun to gossip about and spread, weren’t they?

“...there’s a plan to halt his army at once.”

“How?”

They were harmless.

“You’ll see.”

That’s what Reaper thought, at least.

Stars, he was such a fucking idiot.

He knew what the other gods thought of him and all about their terrible rumors. No matter how many years passed and how the rumor mill changed, one thing remained a constant: Reaper was always the villain in their tall tales.

As a child, it bothered him. No youngling found joy in being made into the creature under the bed or the dragon to be slain. He was always, always the fiend, never the brave knight or dashing prince. Death was never anything kind. Never anyone kind.

For years he used to hide away and cry about the things they’d say until he grew older and eventually use to hearing their gossiping lies. He was a curse to all? Yeah, yeah. He knew. He was a murderer? Goodness, how surprising! Things got worse when Papyrus was born but that was because he refused to let his brother face the crushing self hatred Reaper himself had fallen to as a child and did his best to create his own rumors about himself to keep their attention as far from the younger as possible. It worked. By then, ignoring everything was so much easier.

Unfortunately, his horrible reputation came around to bite him in the ass once knowledge of his relationship with Geno slipped out. Not only did the rumors about him get worse but ones about Geno began going around.

Geno was kidnapped.

Geno was actually a corpse.

Geno was being beat.

Geno was a whore.

A pet.

A slave.

An illusion.

A gift to Asgore.

A gift from Asgore.

And the rumors continued, going on and on and on and twisting into horrible, ugly stories and utterly ridiculous so-called facts.

Reaper was always there to keep Geno shielded from the gossip but there wasn’t much he could do to put an end to it. Words could be hurtful but they weren’t dangerous. Causing a conflict over a few annoying lies wouldn’t do anything but make him look worse while giving the gossips something else to blabber about. It was frustrating, yes, but it was fine. He’d just ignore it as always.

Ignoring it had been a terrible decision.

All those gossips had begun planning an attack. Not on him, though. No, on his family. On Geno.

On Goth.

And Reaper ignored it. He shook off every strange whisper that left him uneasy and waved away the strange, pointed comments he heard. He ignored it.

Like. An. Idiot.

Stars, he hoped Geno and Goth would be okay.

Because he wasn’t going to be for quite some time.

“REAPER!”

Mercifully, he lost conscious the second he hit the ground.

“What the hell is going on here?!”

W...wha...t?

“Battles on castle grounds are—Geno?”

G...Ge...n...o…?

“U-Undyne! Oh t-thank stars. Undyne, p-please! Help!”

U...nd...yne…?

“War! Aid us! Please! Death’s lover has gone insane! Look at the dust on his clothing! Look at Death!”

Oh...oh stars…

It…

“Dear Asgore! Is...Is that Sans?! Geno, what the hell is going on?!”

It hurt.

Everything hurt.

“Undyne, please! I’ll explain later! I promise! Just...please help. Please, please, please help me. I…”

Ithurtithurtithurtithurt.

“Undyne, I’m scared. I...I don’t know what to do.”

Ithurtithurtithurtithurtithurtithurtithurtithurtithurt!

“R-Reaper?!”

Ithurtithurtithurtithurtithurtithurtithurtithurtithurtithurtithurtithurtithurt!

“O-oh stars, he’s awake.”

W h y   d i d e v e r y t h i n g   h u r t?

“HELP HIM!”

Overwhelmed, he fell unconscious.

Snap!

He screamed.

“I’m s-sorry!”

G...Gen...o…?

Snap!

Again, he screamed.

“I-I’m sorry! I’m s-sorry!”

Snap!

A scream.

An apology.

Snap!

A scream.

An apology.

S n a p!

A   s c r e a m.

…

…

…

Rain…?

“I...I c-can’t. I can’t...I c-can’t keep d-doing this. I...I’m h-hurting him!”

W...Warm...rain…?

“I k-know we have to...t-to p-push h-his bones b-back into p-place, but…”

Tears…?

“...b-but it’s hurting him. I’m h-hurting him.”

Ge...no…

“Papyrus would be willing to—”

P...apy...rus…?

“No! I...I don’t w-want him to see his b-brother like t-this more than he has to. He...he’s busy w-watching Goth, anyways. I…”

“Please don’t force yourself to continue, my friend. If you need to leave to calm yourself—”

Leave…?

Geno...was...l...leaving?

“—Oh my! Sans?!”

Why…?

Why was Geno…?

“H-honey? Are...are you awake? Oh stars! Toriel, he isn’t supposed to be awake!”

“D...t...g….o….”

“I...I’m not leaving, Reaps. Stars, I’m not going anywhere. P-please go back to sleep though, honey. You...you’re hurt, Reaper. Please, please go back to sleep so we can help you.”

Geno was...was staying….

Blissfully, he drifted back to sleep.  

Everything ached.

“Shhh, shhh. It’s okay.”

No. No, it wasn’t. It hurt. It hurt.

“You’re okay, honey. You’re okay.”

He didn’t feel okay.

“Shhhh. Go...go back to sleep, Reaper.”

It hurt so much.

“Come on, darling. Go back to sleep…”

Sleep…?

“There we go. Sleep, honey. Gothy and I will be here when you wake.”

Goth…

A feather light kiss against his skull. A familiar warmth curled around his fingers.

“We love you, Reaps.”

Geno.

“Goodnight, sweetie.”

Comforted, he slept.

There…

There was something on him.

“Is...is this really okay?”

It was warm.

“I don’t want to hurt him…”

Like...like Geno….

“I-it’s okay! His p-physical wounds a-are healed up! He’s s-sleeping more t-than any o-of us expected but h-he’s fit to handle t-the weight.”

No...it was...it was too small to be Geno…

“Are you sure?”

Why…?

“Y-Yes!”

Why did the warmth feel wet?

“G...Ge...no….”

“R-Reap—oh! Gothy! No! Did you pee on daddy?!”

He was asleep again before that could sink in.

He…

He couldn’t see.

…

…

…

Oh, his eyes were closed.

Sockets weighed by exhaustion, Reaper struggled for what felt like years just to blink open his eyes. His vision was blurry and spotted but he knew the moment his gaze landed on the ceiling he couldn’t clearly see that this was not his bedroom.

This wasn’t his bedroom.

Panicked, he attempted to sit up. Stars, his arms felt so weak though. Once, twice, thrice...no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t keep his arms from wavering whenever he attempted to push himself up. Desperate, he tried to teleport.

Nothing.

His breathing was too fast. Too harsh. Gasping, he clawed at the sheets beneath him in a last ditch attempt at dragging himself up. This wasn't his bedroom. Wasn’t his bed. He didn’t know where he was. Fuck, he...he couldn’t move and he didn’t know where he was.

“R-Reaper…?”

Short, rapid breaths stilling entirely, he froze.

“G...Geno…”

“Reaper!”

Small, familiar warm hands were on him instantly. Rather than fighting against them, he sank into the hold with an overwhelming relief as Geno carefully adjusted him so that he was sitting. Expression worried, the smaller skeleton tucked every pillow on the bed behind him to ensure he was propped up comfortably before releasing him. No, that wasn’t right. He wasn’t letting him go, Reaper realized. He was changing his hold. Geno was cupping his face and...and….

“D...Don’t...cry…” he rasped, fighting against his heavy, sore limbs in a weak attempt at wiping Geno’s tears away. “Don’t...cry…”

“Oh my god.” Geno sobbed, stroking his cheeks with his thumbs and gently peppering his skull with kisses. He was leaning over the bed in an awkward position that had to be uncomfortable, but the smaller didn’t even seem to notice as he looked Reaper over with a wide, scared gaze. “You’re awake. Oh my god. Oh my god!”

“T...That’s...me.” he whispered. “ Your... g...god…”

Wet and watery, the smaller skeleton laughed. “O-only you would say s-something so stupid a-after being asleep for s-so long.”

“Wh...what...h...happened…?”

“You don’t remember?” Geno asked worriedly. Then, his eyes widened. “O-oh, wait! I...I need to go get Toriel and Alphys!”

Digging deep inside of himself for the strength he needed, Reaper curled his fingers around the hem of Geno’s hoodie. His husband could have easily broken the hold with how weak it was but Geno didn’t. Instead, the smaller skeleton instantly stilled.

“Don’t...go…” He pleaded. There...there was a reason. He couldn’t recall it now but there was a reason he needed Geno close. He had to...Reaper had to...to… “Not...not safe.”

He had to protect his husband.

“W...where’s Goth…?” His baby was in danger too, wasn’t he…? “Where...w...where is...Goth…?

“Oh, honey.” Geno murmured with a loving yet tearful smile. Carefully tugging Reaper’s hand off his clothes, he walked a few paces away to where a crib sat pressed against the wall. That wasn’t the crib they bought for Goth but Geno reached in and pulled their baby from it’s depths all the same. “We’re safe, Reaps. Gothy and I...we’re safe.”

Slowly rocking the infant slumbering in his arms, Geno made his way around the bed and carefully slid in at Reaper’s side. He had to push himself as close to Reaper as he possibly could without being on his lap in order to fit but neither adult minded. Still so, so weak, Reaper merely lifted his arm painstakingly and wrapped it around his husband, still bleary sockets on the peaceful expression their son wore.

“Goth…”

“He’s been asleep for about half an hour now.” His husband informed him, tilting his body in his hold so that Goth was closer to his father. “You...you woke a few times but, overall, you’ve been asleep a lot longer than Gothy, honey.”

“H...how...long…?” Reaper had a bad feeling.

“...”

“Ge...Geno…”

“Almost a month.” Geno whispered.

It took a moment—stars, he felt so tired—but, eventually, the words sunk in. “W-what…?”

“We...we got shot out of the sky, remember?” The smaller skeleton said hesitantly. His voice kept breaking. “Reaper, honey, you...you took the hit. Goth and I were fine but you…”

Feathers ash, flesh gone, they were falling, falling, falling. He could survive, Reaper knew. At this height, even higher, he could survive. Geno wouldn’t make it though. Goth wouldn’t either.

He couldn’t let them die. He wouldn’t. He held them close, broke his broken wings further to shield them and twisted as they fell, fell, fell.

“...that fall would...would have shattered me.” He murmured. Blinking slowly, he slid his gaze over whatever of himself that he could see without a mirror. Everything looked like it was in place. “I...I should be...hurt more…”

“A month, honey. You’ve been asleep for almost a month.” Geno reminded him softly. “Toriel healed you. You…y-you w-were very h-hurt before she did.”

“M’wings…?” His words were slurring now. Why...why couldn’t he keep his eyes open?

“She healed everything.” Adjusting his hold on Goth so that their son was cradled with a single arm, Geno reached up and coaxed the taller’s head into resting against the top of his skull. “Get some more sleep, Reaps.”

“Been s...sleeping...sleeping enough…”

“Just a little more, sweetie?” Geno pleaded quietly. “I...I’m happy you woke up. This is the longest you’ve been awake yet, but I can tell you’re still tired. Sleep just a little more, okay? Gothy and I will join you.”

He wanted to argue—there was no way Geno was going to sleep, not if he was worried—but his husband was warm and Reaper was so, so tired. “Love...you…”

“I love you too, Reaper.”

Helpless against his body’s desires, he slept.

  When Reaper awoke, it was to Geno’s bare body.

“Mmm, talk about a good morning.” he purred, though his voice was weak. “I’m a little too sore to do anything about it, but I’m very appreciative of this view.”

“Reaper!” Unfortunately, his husband began rushing to get dressed. “You’re awake! Again!”

“I am.” The god agreed, head tilting to get a better look at the flesh the other, smaller skeleton was rapidly concealing. “I’d be a lot happier about it if you got naked again, though. My everything hurts and you're such a pretty distraction.”

“Idiot.” Geno scoffed, expression too warm to make the insult sting. “I’m not sure how thankful I am that you’re this coherent.”

“Mean.”

“You deserve it.” The smaller growled. Now dressed in a familiar dark hoodie and baggy shorts, Geno paused to step into his slippers before he all but shortcutted directly to God's side. “Never , worry me like that again, asshole.” Geno demanded. “You…”

Aw, shit. He was crying again. “I’m sorry, baby.” He apologized, thankful to find that his arms were a lot more willing to listen to him this time around and that he could tug his husband into an embrace. “I’m sorry, Gen. Don’t cry please. I’m sorry.”

“You w-were in pieces.” The glitch cried, curling into his embrace with a loud, cracking sob. “I...I had to p-put you back together . Like s-some kind of fucking puzzle.”

“Baby…”

“You w-wouldn’t stop screaming.” Geno whispered. “Even...e-even when you w-were asleep, you wouldn’t stop screaming.”

“Shhh, its okay, baby. I’m fine now, okay? I’m fine.”

But Geno wouldn’t calm down.

His body ached and his joints kept creaking, but Reaper ignored it all as he coaxed Geno up onto the bed and into sitting on his lap. Face tucked into his neck, Geno sobbed. Seeing his husband cry always hurt but these tears were agonizing. Geno clung and cried, and cried, and cried until he began gagging on his tears. At one point, the smaller scrambled away from him to vomit and Reaper found himself struggling out of bed to sooth the glitch who only cried harder in response. By the time his tears finally ended, Geno had long since fallen into an exhausted, restlessly sleep and was a distraught mess of vomit and tears.

The sight ached far more than Reaper’s healed wounds.

“He’s been worried about you, my friend.” Toriel later informed him as she carefully checked him over. Not too long after Geno’s breakdown, Papyrus had entered the room with Goth in a search of the glitch. Upon finding Reaper awake; however, he rushed to gather everyone and, now, the room he had awoken in was filled with their friends. “We all have but Geno…”

“He pretty much moved in.” Undyne bluntly informed him. The evidence was all around them though: A crib for Goth, a pile of clothes, miscellaneous objects from their home… “Not that anyone blames him. You were in pretty bad shape, Sans. Stars hope it never happens but if Alphys was ever injured as badly as you, then I wouldn’t be able to leave her side either. It was...it was really, really bad. You worried us, punk.”

Pieces, Geno said. He had been in pieces .

“What—” a glowing, green pill was dropped into his hand and he paused as long as he needed to swallow it down. “—happened? It was a little fuzzy at first but I remember that Geno and I were attacked. They...shit, they wanted Goth.” A strong flare of anger briefly lit his socket blue. “They wanted to kill my son.”

Goth was fine, he knew. Unhappy that his mother wasn’t awake to feed him, yes, but perfectly fine and content to suck on Reaper’s finger for the time being. Seeing him in his arms comforted Reaper just as much as it angered him though because Goth may have been safe in his arms but he was so, so small too. Fragile. Defenseless.

Reaper couldn’t understand how anyone could have the heart to harm him.

He worried that it would be so easy to do so.

“What happened?” He asked again, voice dark as he discreetly rubbed his back against the pillows behind him. “What happened after I fell? I doubt those assholes gave up after they sent us crashing to the ground. I...I think I heard your voice, Undyne. Geno was asking you for help?”

“Shit, you really did wake up back then.” The thought of him being awake in the state she found him in had Undyne’s blue scales tinting green. “Yeah, I showed up not too long after you, uh, went splat. Asgore caught wind of an altercation going on, on the edges of the castle grounds and I volunteered to check things out. It...wasn’t a pretty sight.”

“They Had To Call Me.” Papyrus cut in with an unusually somber tone. “Geno’s Injury—”

“His what?!”

“His ribs were broken.” Toriel gently informed him, finally stepping away from his propped up form. “Your physical condition is fine, Sans. The aches and weakness should disappear once your magic returns to normal.”

“O-oh!” After a little bit of searching, Alphys pulled a bottle of pills from her pocket. Unlike the green one Reaper was just given, these were blue. “Magic supplements! T-to help boost your levels until your body n-naturally replenishes it.”

“Thanks.” Undyne shot him a glare at his clearly unthankful tone. He ignored it. “But can we go back to the fact that Geno had broken ribs?!”

The glance everyone shared really didn’t help his rising worry. “...From what I understand,” The War goddess hesitantly began. “one of the attackers managed to get to Goth.”

Nausea churned his stomach unpleasantly. Shifting against his pillows, he scowled. “What?!”

“He was fine!” Undyne hurried to reassure with a wide, nervous grin. “Geno was holding him by the time I showed up. He was crying, yeah, but he was fine. Geno...wasn’t. He was standing weird. Like being upright hurt. Apparently, he was kicked pretty hard when getting Goth back.”

Geno was kicked.

Geno was kicked .

Shit, if his ribs broke it had to have been because the kick landed somewhere on his rib cage. Geno was sturdier than he looked but his rib cage was undeniably fragile. Stars, his hp was so low. How...how had…?

His sockets grew wide.

Slowly, Reaper tilted his head down. Geno was asleep next to him on the bed, curled in a small, tight ball and dressed in clean clothing. Carefully removing an arm from around Goth, he pressed his hand to Geno’s skull and gently smoothed his fingers over the soft, smooth bone.

CHECK

“Oh, honey.” He whispered, staring at the STATS before his eyes. “Your LV…”

Geno’s LV raised.

With it, his feeble HP increased too. The STAT remained almost impossibly low—he was nowhere near double digits—but it was just high enough that a few broken ribs were a safe injury to bear.

And it made sense, he realized. He was doing it in self defense and in order to protect their child, but, like Reaper himself, Geno had been ruthless in his protection of their son. Reaper wasn’t responsible for every death on the battle-field their yard became but Geno was a monster , not a god. Killing had effects on his kind and Reaper was looking at them now.

Was it wrong to be relieved?

“Finish telling me what happened.” He demanded, deciding to push away thoughts of Geno’s new STATS for another time. That was a topic better dealt with when Geno was actually awake. Absently, he reached back and scratched at a shoulder, teeth tilted downwards in a worried frown. “I want to know what I missed. Everything I missed.”

And so they told him.

Papyrus was called to transport Reaper because Geno was unable to. Although the castle was the safest possible place he could have been taken after the fall, it was decided that he’d be taken to Life’s instead. There was a house hidden in Toriel’s lush, wild garden that nearly no one knew about and Reaper was given a room there to rest up in as he was healed. Apparently, that healing took quite awhile. Tori couldn’t touch him so anything requiring a hands-on approach had to be done through Geno. Snapping his fingers back into place, realigning his femurs, matching his shattered bones back together like tiny, morbid puzzles…. Geno did it all by himself with instruction from Toriel and Alphys inputted every now and then.

While those three worked on him, Undyne took to tackling all the political work. Those who remained from the original attack that took place at the skeletons’ home created a big uproar after Undyne put an end to the conflict. Feem, the minor goddess of gossip who had been involved, was spreading rumors and lies about what really took place in an attempt to demonize Geno.

Geno attacked Reaper.

He tore apart every deity that attempted to help the god.

He was ruthless.

Dangerous.

A threat to them all.

When Undyne spoke out against the rumors, she received backlash for her known friendship with the family. Bias, they all said. Getting Asgore to understand she wasn’t letting her personal feelings on the subject interfere with her objectivity was nearly half the battle, the goddess admitted with a tense grin. Undyne respected Asgore a great deal but the circles they had gone in had come close to driving her insane.

Despite the struggles she faced, Undyne did manage to get those involved with the incident locked up. It wasn’t a permanent solution, she reassured him, but it would keep them under a watchful until Reaper himself could decide what actions he wanted to take. As the one whose family was endangered, he had the right to demand nearly any punishment he saw fit.

Reaper already had a few ideas.

Honestly, from there on out things were pretty simple. With the deities taken care of, all the was left was for Reaper to heal. The damage was extensive enough that things went very, very slowly and Alphys was going through their damaged home to make repairs and security based improvements, so Geno, Goth, and Paps just kind of...moved in. It wasn’t necessary, but both adult skeletons were unwilling to be further from Reaper than they had to. Papyrus did have to leave for work though since he was taking over Reaper’s duties as well, but Geno?

“W-we, uh, we s-stocked the room with s-snacks.” Alphys proved this by opening a nearby drawer and lifting a handful of colorfully wrapped candy bars. “He w-wasn’t leaving t-the room to eat. Or for, um, a-anything else.”

Oh.

“Yeah,” he sighed, torn between fondness and frustration. “that sounds like something Geno would do. Gothy is just a newborn so it isn’t like Gen had to leave the room much to care for him. He’s definitely enough of a worry-wart to take advantage of that fact.”

“The guy cares about you much more than you deserve.”

“Wow. How sweet. Thanks, Undyne.”

“Anytime, Punk.” The goddess grinned.

Eventually, there was nothing else to discuss. Goth joined his mother in resting and when Reaper himself began yawning too, the other deities decided to leave the small family of three alone for now so they could sleep, though Papyrus made sure to place the slumbering child back into his crib before he left with a promise to wake his brother for dinner. Goodbyes given and door shut, Reaper let himself enjoy the peace and quiet.

For a few seconds.

Desperately, he pawed at the loose shirt he wore in an attempt to get it off. When his sore limbs didn't want to cooperate, he growled and tore through the thin material before angling his back away from the headboard and practically melted when his wings sprung free.

Stars, he was so itchy!

It started as a small tingle during the discussion of the events that took place after his fall. Now though? Stars, it was unbearable . Grumbling, he carefully bent one of his wings forward and began digging his fingers into the wild, fluffy feathers to scratch at the skin hidden beneath the messy black mass. Fuck, he hated having to regrow feathers. They always grew back erratically and itched . Grooming would help with the itching, he knew, but he wouldn’t be able to do so without a mirror in the room. For now, he settled for scratching at whatever he could—

A loud, embarrassing trill escaped him when pleasantly warm fingers slid through the feathers on his other wing.

Horrified, Reaper slapped a hand over his mouth.

Behind him, there was a soft laugh. “Did you just chirp?”

“You’re dreaming, Gen. This is all a drea— chiiiiirup!”

“Vivid dream.” Geno murmured teasingly, untangling his fingers from the feathers they were buried in, in favor of straightening out a few crooked ones. “How long was I asleep for?”

“About two— chiiiiiii— hours. Oh, stars, are you grooming me?”

“Is that what you call it?” The smaller skeleton questioned curiously as he continued fixing up Reaper’s wings. “It doesn’t hurt, right?”

“N-no, it doesn’t hur— chiiiirup! Hurt. It doesn’t hurt.” When Geno stopped, he squawked. “I said it doesn’t—”

Sniff.

“—hurt.”

“I’m sorry…” Geno cried when he hurriedly turned around to face the smaller skeleton. His voice was small and strained as he tried to force down his tears. “Shit, I...I don’t mean to keep fucking crying.”

“Hey, hey.” Cupping the other, smaller skeleton’s face, he pressed a light to Geno’s watery grin before pulling his husband into his arms. “It’s okay to cry, baby. Goth does it all the time.”

“Goth i-is a literal child.”

“And you’re an adult with a valid reason for being upset.” He shot back. “Gen, you don’t need to apologize for crying. Some pretty shitty things happened, honey. It’s okay to be worried and angry and it’s definitely okay to be relieved. No one is going to fault you for crying.”

“I can’t stop thinking about it.” Geno admitted with soft sob. “What if U-Undyne didn’t s-show up, Reaper? Stars, I...I fucked up. I f-fucked up! I let someone grab Goth. What if I didn’t get him back? What if Undyne d-didn’t show up and I l-lost him again and couldn’t get him back? What if—”

“Shhh.” Reaper interrupted in a low, soothing voice. “You can’t think like that, honey. We’re fine, okay? Fall and injuries aside, nothing bad happened, Gen. You’ll just worry yourself sick thinking up all those scenarios.”

“I can’t stop.” The other, smaller skeleton whimpered. “I just k-keep going around in circles in my head. So much could have gone wrong, Reaps. So much did go wrong. I…” terrified, he clung to the taller skeleton. “I don’t know what I would have done if things didn’t work out. You were hurt, Goth was in danger, and that...that utter bitch was taunting me. After I got hurt—” Instantly, Geno fell silent.

“You weren’t going to tell me about your broken ribs, were you?” Reaper asked with a gentle tone that contrasted his disappointed frown. “Or you LV.” When Geno merely lowered his gaze, he sighed. “Babe, I deserve to know when you’re hurt, too. Even if it’s an injury that got healed.”

“You were in worse condition.” Geno protested. “It was just a few broken ribs. And the...the LV doesn’t matter either.”

“Doesn’t it?” He murmured, watching Geno subconsciously twist his scarf around his hands. “Gen…”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” The glitch mumbled. “I...I don’t want to talk about it, Reaper. Not...Not now.”

He wanted to argue, he really did, but Geno was upset enough. “Okay. Okay, baby.” Unable to help himself, he squirmed. “Want to help me with my wings?”

“...What do I do?”

Gently wiping away the last of those heartbreaking tears, Reaper stole another soft, comforting kiss before turning his back to his husband. “Just help me straighten my feathers, honey. You can pluck any that are broken but try not to pull out any that aren’t, okay? Let me know if you need me to move them, too.”

“Okay…”

The two fell silent, but it was...nice. Not perfect, but nice. Geno still sniffled every now and then behind him and Reaper still had a few burning questions, but fixing up his wings surprisingly helped in calming both of them down. In a way, it was near meditative with the way it allowed them to mindlessly fall into the repetitive cycle of straightening feathers and plucking any that were broken. For Reaper, the itching was soothed and he got the comfort of his husband safe and near. For Geno, he had proof under his fingertips that Reaper was okay. A few high, embarrassing trills and chirps broke the silence but, overall, they were quiet.

Until Goth began to cry in his crib, that is.

Quickly straightening out the last few feathers that Reaper couldn’t reach, Geno pushed himself off of the bed they were seated on and quickly went to scoop up the shrieking newborn. Acknowledging his mother’s familiar hold, Goth whined and mouthed at his shirt; hungry.

“Little guy fell asleep waiting for his mama to feed him.”

“Why didn’t you wake me?” Geno scolded quietly, tugging his shirt out of the way as he made his way back to the bed. A cheerful ping directed him onto Reaper’s lap but he was too focused on directing Goth to the correct spot to shoot his husband an annoyed look for wasting magic when he was still recovering. “Poor Gothy shouldn’t have had to wait.”

Reaper didn’t wake him for a lot of reasons. Most of them had to do with the magic burned under Geno’s socket from exhaustion. “Well, Gothy is being fed now. Better late than never, right?”

Absently nodding, Geno leaned back on Reaper’s lap and shifted to get comfortable. ‘...I’m really glad he’s okay.”

Pressing a kiss to his husband’s skull, Reaper nodded. “Me too, honey.” Goth wouldn’t be done for a bit. Knowing this, he nudged Geno into a better position on his lap before curling his wings forward as far as they could go, the large, feathery limbs overlapping over his husband and child as a makeshift blanket. There were a few more spots he was able to do without Geno, so Reaper began focusing on those while the smaller skeleton cared for their son. They’d have to move eventually but, for now, the parents were content where they were.

Together, with their son, and safe.

Chapter Text

Infinite knowledge was such a terrible burden to bear.

As Knowledge given flesh, Alphys knew this better than anyone; understood it more than any other deity could ever hope to and constantly bemoaned that understanding. Because she knew how terrible knowledge could be. She knew .

So many mocked her behind her back for her mortal worries. Her anxieties and depression and all her other faults that the higher beings saw as below their kind made her lesser in their eyes. Sometimes, she felt lesser. Most of the time, she wished she was. But she knew she wasn’t. She knew.

Alphys wasn’t one of the great ones. She wasn’t Life or Death, nor did she wish to be. But not being among their ranks didn’t diminish the great capability she had within her to rise above her station; to be equal with The End himself, if she so wished to be. Because Alphys knew things, you see. She knew.

Facts came to her like moths to a flame and she, that bright, burning, hungry flame, consumed them all. Greedily, she devoured them. A glutton, she became, for she could never quite get enough. She could never stop herself from learning more. No matter how much she wished she could.

Because Knowledge strove to be kind but knowledge itself was neither kind nor cold, yet it cared not for your emotions all the same. Instead, knowledge was factual and it’s goddess suffered for it everyday because she knew. She knew, she knew, she knew and that knowing tormented her. Terrified her.

She looked into the eyes of her loving wife and knew of the horror Undyne, as War, unleashed upon the lands.

She gazed upon the bright, naive smile of Death the Younger and knew of the weeping parents and orphaned children he left in his wake.

She braved the friendship of Death the Elder and knew that as the eldest, as The End, he would one day bring ruin to them all.

And then, one day, she met Geno.

And she knew.

He hid it well but Alphys was Knowledge and had thousands of years to gather information and to learn. And learn she did. 

There was a sorrow in his eyes that he tried so hard to hide whenever those with the faces of his ghosts were near, but there a mistrust too. A fear. Knowing did not equal understanding; however, and, at first, she assumed that Geno was afraid of them. Of getting close to those who looked so painfully similar to the loved ones he lost. It made sense, didn’t it? Guilt so often filled his sockets when he believed no one was looking and it seemed only lodgical that Geno be concerned about opening himself to new friends with old faces. 

Only the fear never quite left.

As the months passed, Geno got better at hiding it but Alphys knew it was there, lingering in the socket she could not see and the one that tried to conceal it’s emotions. It was showcased in the way Geno was always watching the world around him, the glitch never unaware of where everyone stood or where the exits were, his distrust and fear only highlighted by the way he couldn’t seem to relax without his lover and lover’s brother near. Geno liked her and Undyne, Alphys knew , but he couldn’t bring himself to trust them. Not yet, at least. Perhaps not ever.

But that wasn’t quite right, she soon came to learn.

It wasn’t Undyne and herself the skeleton didn’t trust.

It was everyone. 

Everyone outside of the two deaths, that is.

And it was no simple fear, either. No normal distrust. 

Flinches, Alphys observed once during an outing the five friends took. Geno flinched around others. Away from others and burrowed himself deep into Sans’ side as though attempting to conceal himself with the god’s robes. The flinching was clearly instinctual, yet Geno tried to hide it. He would startle at someone walking a bit too close and try to shake the fear from his expression even as he clung tightly to his lover’s right hand with his left. His smile would shudder, threatening to fall, and magic would flare tellingly but Geno wouldn’t acknowledge it. Pretended it didn’t happen.

It was worse around people taller than him, she noticed.

It was worse around men, she noted.

And that worried her. 

Because Geno was her friend.

And it drove her insane.

Because there was a mystery there, she knew. Hidden knowledge that roused the hunger that Alphys was helpless against, for she knew there a secret to be found, information to be learned, but she did not yet know what it was. 

Foolishly, she fell to her curiosity and sought it out.

Although Sans didn’t enjoy anime, his lover surprisingly did. It took quite a bit of urging on Sans’ part but, eventually, the smaller skeleton was pushed into requesting if he could join them. Excitedly, they all agreed. Guiltily, Alphys abused this.  

It was wrong of her, she knew, but she began using their bi-weekly marathons at Papyrus’ as an excuse to observe Geno; to gather those facts she attracted like flies to honey in her quest to obtain the knowledge he hid. These marathons were one of the few times Sans was not constantly around when they were and it was too good an opportunity to pass up because Alphys knew his lover was a security blanket Geno hid behind. One that he was often left without during their marathons.

And it showed.

Oh, did it show.

When Sans was there, indulging his brother’s and lover’s interest in the shows with his presence, Geno was clam. Calm enough to sleep, even, despite his enjoyment in their shows. Geno always fell asleep, even when Sans wasn’t around, but there was a difference there. Alphys knew there was a difference because she saw it herself.

If Sans was joining them, then Geno would let himself fall asleep. Sometimes, he’d sit at Sans’ right and would absently twirl the long hem of the god’s robe around his left hand’s fingers. Other times, Geno would sit as a captive on his husband’s lap, hands tucked into his pockets due to the way the god’s embrace made his arms useless and his legs crossed over Sans’ own. No matter what position he began the marathon in, Geno would always begin to yawn and, when Sans was there, he’d slump. The longer the episodes dragged on, the further into sleep’s embrace Geno would allow himself to fall until, finally, his weight rested against his lover completely and his breathing evened.

Things went differently whenever Sans wasn’t there. Instead of relaxing into his drowsiness, Geno fought it. He’d yawn and his head would nod as his sockets closed, but Geno would catch himself dozing and force himself awake. If he couldn’t fight the urge to sleep by sheer force of will alone, he’d squirm. The shifting around always seemed to exhaust him more than it woke him; however, and the glitch would eventually fall to his body’s desire to slumber; his rest so much more fitful compared to when Sans held him.

What Alphys found the most interesting were the times Geno didn’t slumber. They were rare—Geno practically lived in a constant state of exhaustion, she noticed—but those moments were just so...so packed full of information! The way he’d pull his hand from the snack bowl whenever someone else reached out, even if he hadn’t grabbed anything yet, the way his grin grew tense during particular violent scenes in some of the rougher animes they tried, the deep, dark void of his only visible socket the time they watched Spirited Away and No-Face appeared…

It was telling.

Very, very telling but Alphys somehow knew the conclusion she was drawing wasn’t entirely correct. She was missing something. A few somethings, maybe, but what?

Sans was responsible for nudging one of the pieces of her puzzle into place.

It happened during yet another marathon the god joined them for.

“Geno~” Sans murmured next to his lover’s skull, grin stretched wide with mischief as he ignored Undyne’s vicious shushing. “You’d look in that, don’t you think?” He asked, motioning to the tv with a lazy wave. “I think we should get you one.”

“This is a beach episode, you pervert.” Geno hissed as quietly as he could manage. “You’re pointing at a bikini!”

“No, I’m pointing at the thing behind the bikini.”

“That thing is just a bunch of strings!”

“Mmm, I know~”

“I hate you.”

“I love you too, honey.”

“I said I hate you, idiot.”

“Gen, I already said I love you too.”

“Hate!”

“Love?”

“You know I’m not saying love, idiot!”

“You just said love though?”

“Reaper!”

“Geno!”

God and glitch stared at each other in silence for a few moments. Then, Geno’s scowl began to waver, the corners twitching as he tried in vain not to smile. “You’re so annoying.”

“Yeah,” Sans agreed with a softened grin that nearly brushed against Geno’s teeth. “but you like it.”

“I don’t.” Geno murmured, socket lidding as he leaned into the taller skeleton. “But I do like you.”

Just before Papyrus ruined the sweet moment with a loud complaint about their PDA, Alphys saw it. A flash of green in Geno’s socket gone so quickly she would have assumed it a trick of the light.

But she knew better.

She knew.

The flash of green bothered her almost as much as it interested her. From what Alphys understood about skeleton type monsters, their eyes lit with their magic. For Sans, that magic was cyan and he made his lover blush more than enough for Alphys to know that Geno’s magic was red, not green. There had been flashes of purple in his socket before, yet Alphys always brushed that off as some sort of merging between the red-blue of Geno’s threatening eye light. Now though, she was sure that wasn’t right. The purple, the green...those weren’t normal. Or, Alphys thought so, at least. Knowledge or not, skeleton magic wasn’t exactly her strong point. She would have to put in some time to pull out her books and research the subject further.

Oh.

But Alphys didn’t have to do that, did she? 

There was someone she could go to.

Someone knowledgeable enough about magic to teach Knowledge herself.

…

…

…

She was going to need to work up the nerve to do this.

“...My eldest is married?”

In that very moment, Alphys knew she made a horrible decision.

It was public knowledge that, although only one of three creators, Gaster, The God of Magic considered himself to be the sire of the two Deaths. That is, he claimed the title of their father. Whether or not he maintained a fatherly relationship with the skeletons remained to be seen, however. Gaster was a great, highly respectful god, yet his research tended to steal away his attention for centuries at a time. In other words: He was a bit of a workaholic and may have forgotten to actually raise his children. Or to check in more than once every hundred or so years.

He cared though. Alphys knew he did.

Which was why letting it slip that the skeleton her questions were based around was married to his son was most likely a terrible error on her part.

Somehow, she knew this was going to end badly.

“W-well, um, he…” She stuttered in an attempt to fix this little problem, “...yes? S-Sans is, uh, yeah. He’s m-married.”

Oh. That was...that was quite the expression. “I’m assuming my invitation to the wedding got lost in the mail?”

Alphys didn’t need to know to know that wasn’t true. She was the one to help Geno with the invitations. “Y-yes! I’m sure t-that’s exactly w-what happened!”

“Ah, shame. I would have enjoyed aiding my son in the kidnapping of his bride.”

The… 

The kidnapping of his bride?!

“T-that isn’t…” Oh, that would be so hot though. She could see Sans throwing Geno over his shoulder and—this wasn’t the time for her stories. Later. Later. “That i-isn’t really h-how things are, um, d-done anymore. K-kidnapping your chosen i-is, uh, it’s kind of looked d-down upon.”

“Strange, I didn’t expect for traditions to change in just a few years.”

“...It’s b-been more than a f-few years. A-and, uh, the bride w-was a groom.”

“Oh.” Alphys really wasn’t sure if she was happy his normal, neutral expression was back or not. It kind of unnerved her. “In that case,” Wait, he was leaving. Why was he leaving? “I think I ought to visit my children and my new son. Gifts are due. Also, I’m quite interested in seeing this colorful phenomenon you mentioned. The glowing didn’t match his magic, you said? Interesting.”

Oh no. Oh no, no, no!

“I, u-uh, I’m not sure they’d e-enjoy a visit a-at this hour!” 

“Nonsense!” Graciously, he paused to motion her closer with one of those strange, floating hands. “My children adore my visits! And it’s for the sake of discovery, too.”

Stepping closer nervously and trying to swallow down her nausea, Alphys worriedly braced herself for what she just knew was going to be a disaster of a reunion. “I-if you say so…”

She blinked and they were in front of Death’s door.

Gaster knocked.

And, just like that, her nausea was suddenly much, much worse.

“L-let me go, idiot! Someone’s at the door!” They heard. Geno, the voice was Geno’s, “Sto- ahp! Get your h-hands out o-of —oh!”

“Shhh, it’s late. If we’re quiet enough they’ll think we’re sleeping and go away.”

“R-Reaper!”

“Mmm, I love the way you say my name. I bet you’d sound good calling me Da—”

Gaster knocked again. This time, with a bit of a blush and a lot more insistence behind the gesture. Beside him, Alphys was red.

“Such a shame my hands are busy and I can’t answer tha —ow! Gen!”

“That’s what you get, asshole! You can get handsy after whoever is outside leaves.”

“Gen. Darling. Pumpkin.”

“Later, damnit! Now wipe your hands! They’re—”

Three knocks in quick succession nearly drowned out Reaper’s interruption of, “Going to get dirty again?”

“—unsanitary. Just a minute!”

There was a bit of shuffling barely heard through the thick, wooden door before muffled footsteps reached their ears, presumably headed in their direction with how they increased in volume. The assumption was quickly proved correct; however, when the door knob turned and the door itself opened. Blushing a bright, noticeable red, Geno turned his head from where he was glaring at his husband over his shoulder and looked to them with a small, plastic smile.

Instantly, the magic flushing his skull drained.

Klk. Klk. Klk.

Geno was shaking.

Klk. Klk. Klk.

No, not shaking.

Klk. Klk. Klk.

Klk. Klk. Klk.

Klk. Klk. Klk.  

He was…

Klk. Klk. Klk.

Klk. Klk. Klk.

Klk. Klk. Klk.

Klk. Klk. Klk.

Klk. Klk. Klk.

Klk. Klk. Klk.

...rattling?

“I will always find you,”

No. 

No, he.... 

He got it off.

He got it off!

“no matter how far you run,”

He didn’t...his hand wasn’t...

“and no matter where you hide.” 

He wasn’t…wasn’t...

He was dead!

Sans Geno pushed him!

Killed him.

“Geno!”

He killed him!

He…

He….

He was back there…

Cold table, restraining straps, the sight of a drill in His hand.

No, no, no! He...he didn’t want to be back...he didn’t…

The high pitched sound the tool made was drowned by his screams. He was begging. He hated that he was begging but it hurt. Ithurtihurtithurt! Where...where was his brother? He...please, brother help him. Please, anyone help him! It hurt! Pleasepleaseplease!

But nobody came.

He was alone, with Him, with the drill.

Three more screws to go.

Alphys didn’t need to be Knowledge to know something terrible was happening.

Geno’s eye light was a pinprick of purple, so small that the vibrance of the color was all that aided her in seeing the speck of light within the darkness of his socket. Worrying, his gaze was just as distant as it was fearful, uncomprehending of the way his small body shook with loud, rattling clacks or the worried call of his lover.

“Geno? Baby, what’s wrong?” Sans called, “Who’s at the doo—fuck!” The god shouted, bodily blocking Geno’s view and glaring up at his father. “You need to leave! Now!”

“Sans—”

“No!” The skeleton snarled, “No small talk. No protesting. Whatever you want can be dealt with later, Old Man, but, for now, you need to leave!”

For a moment, Gaster stared at his eldest with an unreadable expression. Although Sans was attempting to hide Geno behind him, Gaster’s impressive, tall height made it easy for the older god to see the smaller, unlike Alphys who was left unaware of whatever expression Geno held. It had to be worrying though, because Gaster’s expression twisted in concern before he nodded and vanished without a word.

Leaving her behind.

Sans didn’t so much as spare her a glance as he spun around to face his smaller lover, hands cradling Geno’s skull as the other jolted around with his rattling. “Geno? Geno, honey, can you hear me?”

Klk. Klk. Klk. 

“He’s gone, Gen. He’s gone.”

Klk. Klk. Klk.

“Baby,” Sans murmured, clearly worried, “I’m going to pick you up, okay? No blue magic though, Gen. No pain. I’m going to pick you up and we’re going to go sit on the warm, comfortable sofa.”

No blue magic.

No pain.

Ill at the implications, Alphys clamped a hand over her mouth as she watched Sans gently lift Geno into his arms. He turned to walk to the sofa and, although he said nothing, she understood that the open door was an invitation for her to come inside. She knew it was.

Alphys was tired of knowing.

“There we go, baby.” The other deity said soothingly as he settled Geno onto his lap and wrapped a blanket around the smaller’s shoulders, “Isn’t that warm, Gen? It wasn’t very warm down there, was it? Not like it is here, on our living room sofa, all wrapped up on my lap with a blanket.”

Klk. Klk. Klk.

“It’s safe here, too, Geno.” Sans informed, “You’re safe, honey.”

Klk...klk…klk…

“No dark, barred room. No machines.”

Klk….klk…

“No tests.”

...Klk…

“No more hurting.”

Though his body began to shake with silent sobs, Geno no longer rattled. “He...he...found me…”

Gently shushing the distraught glitch, Sans shook his head. “It wasn’t him, honey. That was my Gas—” he hesitated, “Dad. That was my dad, Gen. He’s my version of him but he isn’t anything like him. He’s not going to hurt you, baby.”

Barred rooms.

Machines.

Test.

Pain.

Gasters were typically scientist, weren’t they?

All the pieces fell perfectly into place and, suddenly, Alphy knew.

She knew. 

An experiment.

“No one is going to hurt you.” 

Abused. 

“He...he...my hand...I…”

“Can I see it?” Sans questioned in a whisper, “I know you’re scared, honey, but can I...can I see your hand?” When Geno glanced in her direction and hurriedly shook his head, Sans didn’t push. Instead, the god gently tilted the smaller skeleton’s head back so that their gazes met. “Do you need Alphys to leave the room, honey?” A shaky nod and suddenly twin pools of darkness were staring daggers at her. “Paps is in his room. Either have him take you home or use the guest room. I don’t care which you choose.”

She did this, she knew. 

Alphys was quick to leave the room.

Once the goddess’ footsteps could no longer be heard, Reaper tried again. “Can I see your hand, Geno? I’m not going to hurt you.”

Eye light worrying small and a terrified hue, Geno shook. The rattling was picking up again, Reaper noted worriedly as he watched the smaller skeleton carefully reveal his right hand. Movements slow, he carefully reached out and cradled it, his soul throbbing with an intense sadness at just how small his husband’s hand was compared to his. Geno was on the smaller scale for Sanses, he knew. Knowing why made him ache.

Gently, he coaxed the glitch into turning his hand over so that their palms were pressed together. At the sight of the back of his hand, Geno flinched, bones rattling noisily, but he didn’t look away. Instead, he stared down at the delicate bones alongside the god, both silently inspecting the four morbid holes drilled into the bone and the cracks that spider-webbed from the marks. Faintly, the intent of the metal that once was could be seen, it’s memory left behind with an old outline of a rectangle across the bone. All marks permanent. Scars.

“No plate, Gen.” He pointed out in a soft, gentle voice, “No plate, no tracking. He isn’t around, honey, but he couldn’t find you even if he was. You’re safe, okay?” At a snail’s pace, he lifted the hand to place a single, feather-light kiss to the scars. “You’re safe.”

As he repeated his words, cyan flared in his socket.

Reaper wasn’t like the skeletons in the world Geno was born into. His sockets didn’t glow because he was happy and, had he eye lights, they wouldn’t change colors with intense emotion. No purples, or greens, or any other colors but the hue of his magic would be seen, but none of that mattered. Reaper could make due with what he had. And what he was his cool, cyan hue and the urge to comfort his husband so, with a gentle smile, he kept his eye alight in a mimicry of a glow. 

Tears dripping down his cheek, Geno choked down a sob and curled his right hand around the taller’s fingers as he stared up at the flame-like magic filling Reaper’s socket. Once a matching hue but now red, his own magic slowly filled his eye.

“You’re safe, Geno.”

Eventually, he believed it.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

With a shriek, the half empty bowl of popcorn Alphys held fell to the floor with a loud clatter. “G-Geno!” She cried, spinning on her heels and crushing a few buttery pieces under her feet. “Y-you, I...u-uh…” Nervously, she looked around, “U-Undyne i-is—” 

“—Outside with Papyrus.” The skeleton finished, usual grin empty of humor. “Reaper just left for work, so it’s only us, Alphys.”

Oh stars, she was going to die, wasn’t she? “I...I…”

“He said you probably figured it out.” Geno murmured, leaning back against the kitchen table, “Somehow, I still don’t think you have all the pieces.”

“You were an experiment.” She blurted out stupidly, the deity part of her bristling at the offense that she, Knowledge, hadn’t yet gathered all the clues. “I...I’m sorry. T-that was…”

“Correct.” The glitch finished with a tense set to his shoulders. “My brother and I both, actually. It’s not something I like thinking about much, though, but it’s probably better for you to know , huh? See, we were born as a means to free the underground. No, not born. Things are made, after all, so we were made. Only, we were made wrong. Things shouldn’t be sentient.”

“G-Geno…”

Said skeleton held out his hand. His right hand, Alphys noticed before the sight of the damage had bile churning in her stomach. “To pretend we weren’t, our...creator...drilled metal plates with our experiment titles carved into them. It seemed to work for him, because he went right on with his experiments after that. I won’t get into the nitty gritty details, though. Not now. Just know they weren’t fun.”

The shadow of terror in his eye told her that not fun was an understatement. “You don’t need to-”

“I don’t actually know how long they went on for. I don’t know how old I am, either. We grew...fast. The less we looked like children, the easier it was to ignore our screams, I guess. He ignored those a lot.”

“Geno, please, I-”

“One experiment blew open my socket. Well, I say socket but I really mean half my skull. Heh. I guess you can say that I lost my head for a bit. And my vision. Three guesses on which socket it was.”

“G-Ge-”

“Blah, blah, blah torture, torture, blah, torture, blah. Fast forward, and we’re free. We’re free but we’re also not because we have these little metal plates screwed into our hands to haunt us. Fun, right?”

She didn’t want to hear this.

“Well, fun until the genocides began. Paps and I, we...we use to see things. He always saw snow, I remember, but I…”

She really didn’t want to hear this.

“I saw red. Red and gold followed by nothing.”

He…

He saw his— 

“Turns out, I was seeing my final moments. My death.”

Oh stars.

“I remember experiencing it for real during the first genocide. Then, I experienced it again. And again. And over a hundred times more. But...but I always got to experience my brother dying first.”

Oh gods.

“Heh, Paps was...Paps so good. Too good. The human kept killing us, but he still believed in them.”

Alphys knew what came next.

“I...couldn’t believe in that belief anymore. So I tried a little something. DT. Obviously, I failed. I’m use to that though. I always was a failure.”

“Y-you...you’re n-not-”

“Only this failure was spectacular. Sometimes, I wonder if that darkness I saw in those visions was just my death. I wonder if I was seeing the save screen I’d get trapped in. The one I sat in for stars knows how long, stewing in everything my brother advocated against as I watched myself get replaced and killed over and over and over again, alongside my brother. Well,” smile rueful, he touched his scarf, “not my brother, I guess.”

“I’m sorry!” She rushed to say before he could continue speaking. Her words came out strained as she spoke, tight with the tears filling her eyes. “I...I’m sorry I meddled! I’m sorry! P-please just...I...I don’t want to...t-to…”

“Know.” Geno murmured. “You don’t want to know but, if you’re anything like Reaper, you can’t help needing to. You’re Knowledge, right? You can’t resist gathering information any better than Reaper can resist the calls of souls. You had a taste of my secret. I’m just making sure you have the full course so that I don’t have to deal with this ever again.”

“I’m sorry…” She whispered, ashamed.

But Geno shook his head. “I’m angry. I’m angry you dug into what was wrong with me. I’m angry you led someone with the face of my worst nightmare to my front door. I’m angry about this entire thing but,” Eye light lowering to his scarf, Geno sighed, “my brother would have understood that you couldn’t help it, so I’m trying to understand that, too. Just...do me favor and make it easier on me. Stand there, listen, and then please never dig into my secrets again.”

“...O-okay.”

It wasn’t chronological and it wasn’t always sensible but, slowly, Geno told her all he felt she needed to know about the horrors he lived through. Not just genocides, but a childhood that wasn’t a childhood at all, but a horror film brought to life. He told her of his brother, the deep connection they shared, and the guilt he held over never being enough. Over never being strong enough.

“I remember Paps telling me with...with this firm, confident tone that he was the smartest monster in the whole underground and that I was the strongest. We were supposed to prove it to him.” Geno scowled, “I couldn’t even prove it to myself. Strongest? I wouldn’t be wearing my brother’s scarf if that was true.”

When he told her that, she cried.

A lot of things he said during that conversation made her cry. By the time he ran out of tales he was willing to tell and words to say, her scales were flushed with her tears and her eyes were red.

“Guess you know almost everything now.” Geno said.

And Alphys did.

And, not for the first time, Alphys wish she didn’t. 

Because she knew she pushed. She knew she meddled. 

And she knew she lost a friend for it.

She knew .

Chapter Text

Geno didn’t necessarily mind wearing dresses. In all honesty, he actually kind of liked them. Compared to his usual clothing, they were a lot easier to dress in (heh) and meant he had to put a lot less effort into his outfits because the dress was the entire outfit. Dress, slippers, and then he was done. Perfect.

So, yeah, Geno was fine with dresses.

Sometimes, he wished that Reaper didn’t know that.

This was one of those times.

“Look at you.” The god breathed, sockets heated as he slowly circled Geno like a predator readying to devour its prey. “Stars, you’re gorgeous.” When the smaller skeleton blushed and went to cover himself with his arms, Reaper growled, “No, don’t hide.”

Obediently, Geno dropped his arms at his side. “Reaper…”

“Mmm, so pretty.” The taller purred. “Do a pose for me, honey. Let me see how nicely that dress fits.”

Face flushed, Geno shook his head. “I...I’ll pop out of this stupid thing if I so much as breathe wrong!”

At the refusal, an unholy glint entered the god’s sockets. “Are you disobeying me, Geno?” 

Paling, the smaller skeleton quickly shook his head. “I...I’m n-not!”

“It would be a shame if you were.” Reaper murmured, taking a few steps back. Almost involuntarily, Geno whined and scrambled after him, desperate to keep him close. “I’d have to punish you, baby. Maybe I’d tie you up and leave you be for awhile.” At Geno’s distraught expression, he chuckled. “Kidding, kidding. I wouldn’t do that to you, honey. Not right now, at least. Not if you’re good.”

“I’m b-being good!” He insisted, tearing up a little when Reaper teasingly took another couple of steps away. “R-Reaper!”

“Aw, don’t cry, baby.” The god cooed, quickly closing the distance between them and wrapping him up in his arms. “You know I’m just teasing, Gen. Your expressions are just too cute to resist being a little mean. Mmm, makes me want to show them off…”

“Y-you’re such an ass.” Geno complained, blinking tears from his socket as he pressed himself into his lover’s arms with a scowl. “I k-know what y-you’re thinking and I’m not going out dressed l-like this!”

“You’d turn heads.” Reaper purred, running a hand down the extreme dip of the back of Geno’s dress and resting it on the curve of the smaller skeleton’s ass that was just barely covered. “Stars, no one would be able to resist looking at you. You’d have to be so careful not to give them more than they deserve though. One little slip and they’d see your pretty little pu—”

Sputtering, Geno pressed a hand over Reaper’s filthy smile. “D-do you have any shame?!”

In response, Reaper slid his hand into the back of the dress, his palm settling against Geno’s ass and fingers squeezing as he coped himself a feel. “Not really.”

“H-how do you g-get worse?” The glitch questioned with a whine, hiding his face in Reaper’s robe as he melted in his lover’s arms, attempting to ignore his hand. “Mmm, you smell good…”

“You too.” Reaper murmured, nuzzling his skull and sliding his hand out of Geno’s dress in favor of tugging Geno’s head away from his robes. “It’s been getting stronger all day.”

“I hate heats.” The smaller skeleton growed, face pink as his lidded socket met Reaper’s scorching stare. “Mine a-are bad enough alone, but now we have to d-deal with yours o-on top of it? I didn’t e-even know heats could s-sync, damnit.”

“I didn’t either.” The god admitted just before he stole a kiss. “Mm,” Reaper growled, pleased at the way Geno whimpered and raised himself up to press into the kiss. “I wanted one more day to play around and show you off, but you’re burning up, baby. Fuck, can’t wait to feel how hot you are around me. Gonna make you feel good, Gen.” He promised with a low, rumbling voice. “Gonna prove you were made for me. Gonna prove you’re mine.”

“R-Reaper…” Geno mewled, pawing at his robe and trembling at the intent in his lover’s voice, “Reaper, p-please…”

“Not yet.” Said skeleton decided, fighting through his desires and stilling Geno’s searching hands with a careful grip around his wrists. “Still got a little sense left in me, baby. Wanna enjoy you in that sexy little dress while I still can. Besides,” he purred, “we were in the middle of a game, weren’t we? Still gotta follow my orders, Gen. Now, show me that pose I asked for, honey.”

Biting his tongue to muffle the whine he made when Reaper stepped back for a better view, Geno slowly complied. “Is...i-is this okay?” He asked, embarrassed at his display.

“Bend over a bit, baby.”

“Like t-this?”

Flash, snap!

“Reaper!”

“Perfect.” The god complimented, eyeing Geno lustfully over his phone. Arms crossed behind his head, bent just enough at the waist so that his ass popped out, dress hiking up his thighs...and completely unaware of the mirror behind him showcasing an eyeful of Geno’s poorly concealed sex. Stars, Reaper wanted to slip behind him and just... “Absolutely perfect, Gen.”

Dropping his arms and straightening, Geno hid his face; mortified. “Reap-”

“Did I say to drop the pose?” Reaper questioned with a low, dark voice. 

Startled, Geno lowered his hands from his face. “N-no…”

“So you did something I didn’t tell you to do?”

“...Y-yes.”

“Tsk, turn around Geno. Face the mirror.”

Quickly following the command, Geno whimpered, his legs shaking and thighs pressed together tightly. Reaper was using that tone. The one full of sinful promises. “I...I’m sorry.” Cinnamon filled his senses the instant Reaper stepped up behind him, clouding his head. “M’sorry.”

“Look in the mirror.” Geno was commanded, Reaper bypassing his apology with a cool expression on his face to contrast the heated cyan blush he wore. “Look at yourself, baby.”

Slowly, hesitantly, Geno obeyed. The moment his gaze landed on the image of himself in the mirror; however, he flushed and glanced away. When Reaper growled in warning, he quickly returned his gaze to the mirror, squirming in embarrassment. “Reaper…”

“This is your last chance to prove you can be good for me, Gen.” Reaper informed him sensually, taking pleasure in the way Geno’s face darkened in humiliation at the sight of himself in the dress, “If you close your eyes outside of blinking or look away, then I’m counting that as strike three and you’re being punished. Got it?”

“Yes.” Geno moaned, captivated by his lover’s voice and that pleasant, spicy scent swirling around his head. Stars, Reaper’s heatscent was getting stronger. It was mixing with his own scent, too, and the result was delicious. “R-Reaper, I...I need…”

The god hushed him with a razor edged smile. “We’ll get there, baby.” He promised, the words a low growl. “M’just gonna enjoy you for as long as I can before that. I’ll make it good for you though, baby. You be good for me and I’ll make you feel just as good as you look, Gen. Just keep your eyes on the mirror.”

Easier said than done.

Geno may have been fine with dresses but the one he wore now? It was barely a dress! Oh sure, it stretched from his neck down to the top of his thighs, but the cut... His entire back was revealed. No, not just his back. The dress dipped low , you see. Very, very low and, because of the cut, the sides of his breast and the curve of his ass kept threatening to be revealed. Stars, and the name Reaper called it… Well, it was a little unfitting.

Geno was hardly a virgin anymo— 

“A-ah!” Geno cried, forced out of his thoughts by devious fingers toying with his clit. W-when had Reaper…? “Ah! Ah!”

“There you are.” Reaper murmured, watching the expressions his lover made as he moved his hand beneath the dress. “A little rude to daydream while we’re busy, honey. You’re lucky your eyes didn’t drift away with your thoughts. Now,” pinching his clit harshly and chuckling at the whimper he received, the god smirked, “pay attention. Looking isn’t enough, Gen. I want you to watch.”

Legs trembling as a single finger dipped between his wet folds to tease at his entrance, Geno shakily nodded to show the other he was listening and shyly lowered his eye light to watch the hand hidden by the pretty powder blue of his dress. Just as he did so, the phalange prodding at his slick entrance wormed its way inside and a low, breathy moan escaped him; mirrored by Reaper’s groan as the smaller’s sugary scent filled his senses.

“Smell so good…” Reaper growled, thrusting that single digit almost lazily, purposely driving his lover insane with the slow, soft strokes against Geno’s inner walls. “Fuck, you feel good. Nice and tight. Going to squeeze my cock so, so well.”

“M-more,” Geno begged, “please, p-please! More!”

Sockets lidding and finger slowing more, the god smiled teasingly. “Think you can cum with just one?”

“I c-can’t!” He cried, squirming against the taller skeleton’s chest and attempting to thrust his hips against Reaper hand to take the finger faster; deeper. An arm wrapped around him to force him still and he whined in distress. “N-need more, Reaper! Please, p-please! I need m-more!”

Instead of answering, Reaper curled his finger and searched out that little bundle of nerves hidden within Geno’s sex. Skimming it with his finger and hearing Geno shriek, he smirked and targeted that spot again, grinding into it the best he could while the arm keeping Geno still readjusted. The smaller skeleton, still staring at the mirror, watched as the god’s hand slithered under the dress and, embarrassed, shut his socket just as a cool palm found the pronounced curve of his breast. Shy, he waited for the lightning bolt of pleasure he knew he’d feel to shoot down his spine.

But all movement stopped.

“You closed your eye.” Reaper informed him in a quiet whisper, a smirk clear in his tone. “That’s strike three, Gen.”

Socket snapping open with a look of alarm, Geno froze. “I...I…” when the finger slid from his heat alongside the hand from his dress, he trembled, “N-no, I...I n-need…!”

“Bend over.”

“R-Reap-”

“Bend. Over.”

Lowering his gaze with a whine, Geno nodded meekly and leaned forward, hands pressed against the mirror to keep himself from toppling over completely. As he did so, the short hem of his dress slid up and exposed his intimate red flesh, making him whine in embarrassment. 

Unsure if Reaper wanted him to speak or not, he hesitantly glanced at the god through the mirror for further direction, distantly aware that the cyan across his lover’s face was darker now. “...G-good?” Geno asked nervously when the silence began dragging on. 

Expression cool but gazes heavy with desire, Reaper nodded. His voice was deeper than usual when he spoke, “You know how this goes, baby. This time, you’re going to count to ten for me. Ready?” 

Legs shaking as he braced himself for what was about to come, Geno gave the go ahead.

And a hand came down with a loud smack!

“O-one!” The glitch cried out, jerking forward with the force put into the hit.

Smack!

“T-two!”

Smack!

“Th...three…” Geno whimpered, shivering in pleasure at the sharp sting settling across his abused ass. Smack! He moaned, shakily calling out, “F-four!”

Smack!

“H-hah...fi... iiive…”

Smack!

“S-six!”

Smack! Smack! Smack!

“S-seven!” Geno mewled, arching at the three slaps given to his behind in quick succession. “Eight! N...nine!”

One more. One mo-

Mouth dropping open and eye light guttering out, Geno threw his head back with a loud, drawn out cry and fell against the mirror; sobbing with an intense pleasure he hadn’t expected. “T-ten!” he mewled, clawing against the mirror uselessly as he instinctively tightened around the hot length buried inside him. “A-ah, t-too fast.” He whimpered, shaking. Reaper got handsy during his preheats so Geno was ready for him but the shift from emptiness to being filled so suddenly made his head spin wonderfully. “H-hah. Reaper…!”

All that answered him was the overwhelming scent of cinnamon and a deep, guttural growl. 

Then, his lover began to move.

There was a certain level of care missing as Reaper withdrew from his tight, wet heat and plowed back in, the slide of his cock against Geno’s walls wonderful and the deep, hard thrust pleasurable but Reaper himself mindless as he fucked into his smaller lover again and again and again. Forehead pressed against the mirror that fogged with his pants, Geno pushed back into the punishing plunges into his cunt and moaned when the god rewarded him with a hand between his legs. Fingers skillful even in his current state, the god was quick to find his clit and set about abusing it into that near painful state of sensitivity that had Geno’s voice hiking high in pleasure.

This is what he needed, Geno thought with a loud cry when the god’s free hand found his nipple through his dress and began torturing the sensitive nub. There was a fire sparking in his veins only made stronger by the heavy taste of honey-cinnamon on his tongue and the feel of Reaper deep inside him. When Reaper pushed in just as his fingers twisted and teeth sank into his neck, the fire burst into bright, roaring flames and Geno screamed, socket wide but unseeing as his vision whited out with his completion. Reaper quick to follow…

...but unwilling to stop.

And Geno, drowning in fire and scents, didn’t dare to ask him to.

Instead, the smaller skeleton scrambled for something—anything—to cling to as Reaper fucked him into a state of over-stimulation and continued to fuck him through it, too. The sound of their joining was wet and obscene with the slickness of his pussy and the cum Reaper’s thrusting displaced. Had he been in a saner state of mind, Geno would have been mortified by the thick blue trails sliding down his legs. Dazed by fire and pleasure and heat , he merely whined at the sight and clenched around his lover tighter, wanting more of what his mate offered; wanting anything the taller skeleton would give and pleading for it with breathy moans and keening cries. And Reaper, hearing the need of his lover, gave him all he wanted. All his heat made him need.

Against the mirror, the god fucked his lover hard. Again and again and again, he sent Geno over the edge into climax, filled him with his seed, and pressed on with low, rumbling growls to match Geno’s needy wails. When the smaller shook with exhaustion, falling to the floor, but still begged for more, the taller skeleton chased him to the ground with a wide, hungry grin and delivered pleasure once more. Twice more. Thrice more, each orgasm weaker than the last as the fire coursing through them greedily stole their pleasure to feed it’s burning flames.

There was no coherence.

No loving caresses.

No sweet kisses.

There was merely instinct, desire, and the knowledge that this was their mate. Their chosen. 

And, for now, that was all they needed.

Pawing desperately at the smaller’s clothing before frustration led to him simply shoving Geno’s dress up to his neck, Reaper groaned and bent awkwardly with his thrust to suck a nipple into his mouth. Lost in desire, his attention was more teeth than tongue but every sharp nip earned himself a tight, burning squeeze and a delightful noise. Starving for more, he pushed into his mate’s dripping, pliant sex faster and bit harder, teeth sinking into the flesh around the sensitive nub to leave the first mark of many across his lover’s chest. There were hands against his skull, the god absently realized, but they pressed him closer to the smaller skeleton’s chest and he threw the thought away just like that as he greedily moved to the other nipple so far left ignored. Teeth, tongue, a sharp bite. A mark. Pleasant, hot walls gripping him whenever he was rough. High, wailing moans crying out the word he recognized as his name in a plea for more, more, more.

By the time he came again, spilling deep into his mate, the smaller skeleton was a mess of marks bitten and suckled into flesh and bone alike.

Neither were satisfied.

They needed more.

More.

More.

More.

A week.

Their shared heat lasted for a week.

Slumped against one another on the floor in Reaper’s bedroom, covered in various fluids and marks, and so, so exhausted; both skeletons shared a tired look. 

“I’m pregnant.” Geno mumbled sleepily, head pressed against the taller skeleton’s arm. “There’s no way I’m not after that. We’re going to have, like, ten kids. All at once.”

Laughter strained, the god weakly called a blanket to his hand and wrapped them up the best he could when his arms were shaking so terribly. “Does this mean you’ll start calling me Daddy?”

Geno was too tired to smack him. “Die.”

“Stars, I think I’m about to. I’m so sore. Did we even stop at least once?”

“...”

“Gen?”

Hearing a soft snore, Reaper chuckled. “Good idea, baby.” he praised, sockets falling shut and head falling back against the floor. “Good idea.”

Exhausted, he slept.

One shared heat of many complete.

Chapter Text

At precisely five thirty in the morning, his alarm went off. 

He hit snooze. 

At five thirty five, it went off again. He hit snooze. Five forty. Snooze. Five forty-five. Snooze. When the clock struck six and the alarm began its loud blaring once more, he groaned but didn’t hit snooze again. “Make it stop…”

Sadly, it didn’t stop.

Sighing tiredly, he slowly pushed himself up in bed, his natural grin twisting into a grimace when his skull throbbed in a silent, painful protest to the new position; made worse by the noise his clock screeching at him from the floor. Thankfully a bit of blue magic around the chord and a sharp yank took care of the sound. He would have to remember to plug the clock back in later and to fix the time as well but, for now, he was just happy to have some peace and quiet and happily fell back on his mattress.

Stars, he was so tired. He knew he ought to get up but maybe he could just...just….

His sockets fell shut as he slipped back into sleep.

At six thirty, the alarm on his phone went off, jolting him from a strange, vivid dream and into wakefulness. Somehow more exhausted after the extra sleep, he groaned and weakly rolled onto his side, nearly toppling off his mattress when he rolled too far and earning himself a bout of nausea for his trouble.  

Biting his tongue to keep the burning magic down, he clenched his sockets shut and settled for blindly searching out his phone instead. A bit of fumbling led to his fingers skimming familiar plastic and, with a sigh of relief, he quickly silenced the too-loud noise. Thank the stars. His headache was so much worse now. 

With nothing but glorious silence left behind in his alarms’ wake, he dropped his phone and pressed his face into his bare mattress in utter exhaustion, distantly aware that there was something he had to do but too tired to remain awake. Whatever it was could wait five more minutes, right…?

“BRUDER!”

“Geno~”

Hm…? Who...who was…?

“BRUDER! BRUD-! Bruder…?”

“Geno…?”

Oh…. Paps. That was right. He had to get him ready for school….

“Bruder? Bruder Up! Up!”

“Geno? Geno! Hey, c’mon, wake up!”

“Paps…” he rasped, struggling and failing to open his eyes, “What...what time is it…?” His alarms went off, he recalled. Both of them, which meant that it had to be pass six thirty. Papyrus needed to be dressed, fed, and walked to school by seven thirty at the latest. “Paps, what time is it?” Shit, he had school too, didn’t he? “Are we late…?”

“Bruder…?”

“Geno…?”

There was a hand on his forehead. Why…? “Paps…?”

“Bruder is sick?”

“Oh Geno…”

No. No, he wasn’t sick. He couldn’t be sick. He had work after school and he put in too much effort in convincing the shop owner to hire him despite his age to bother with being ill. Being sick just wasn’t an option. Not when he had bills to pay and a brother to take care of. Papyrus was having a growth spurt, too. Sans would have to buy him new clothes if he couldn’t find anything fitting at the dump. Stripes sweaters weren’t cheap either….

“Bruder can sleep. Great Pa’rus will make you better!”

“...Try to sleep, Geno. I’m going to get something to make you feel better.”

No…. He couldn’t… he… “M’fine, Paps. I...I gotta be fine…” He couldn’t afford not to be.

Something cool cupped his cheek. “Shh, go to sleep, Gen.”

He couldn’t...he shouldn’t… he had to get Paps to school…

Paps.

Paps...

...Paps wasn’t...Paps wasn’t in school anymore. Yeah, Paps graduated years ago…

He was…

He…

Red eyes, a smile without warmth, and cold metal that cut through colder air.

Paps was…

Optimistic last words.

...was…

Dust.

“P-Paps…!”

“Shhh, shh. Sleep, Geno. Sleep.”

No…! No, no, he had to...his brother was…

“Shhh, it’s okay, Geno. It’s okay.”

It wasn’t! It wasn’t! His brother was-! He had to-!

“Paps…! Paps!”

“Shhh, Geno, shh…”

“P...Pap-!”

Warmth.

“Everything’s fine, Gen. Everything’s fine. I got you.”

He...he had to...

“I got you, Gen. I got you.”

He slept.

To a god, illnesses were little more than a petty mortal concern.

Gods could be injured and even killed—a select few were truly immortal—but growing ill? It was practically unheard of. Only the weak fell to disease and only the weakest of them were overcome so terribly they lost their lives. Illnesses in the godly realm were actually so rare that those who did not often interact with the lower, mortal realm often forgot you even could die from sickness.

Reaper dealt with and was Death though, so he understood very well just how terrible illnesses could be. That being said, Reaper couldn’t say that he knew much about actually being sick. To him, and many other deities, the entire concept was more of a fable than reality. A myth among myths.

He wished it stayed a myth.

Staring down at the small form in his arms, Reaper frowned. “Geno…” he murmured worriedly, gently running his thumb under the smaller skeleton’s visible socket and catching the tears that fell. As he did so, his frown deepened, fingers trailing higher until his palm laid flat across the slumbering glitch’s forehead where heat attempted to scald his hand. A fever? 

“Paps…” Geno whimpered in his sleep, socket clenched and magic dripping down his brow in place of sweat. “Paps...Paps…”

When the smaller gripped onto his robes in distress, he smiled; sad. “Why is it that I only get to hold you when you’re in pain…?” First Geno’s heat, now this? “This isn’t what my magazines prepared me for, Geno.”

Unsurprisingly, he didn’t get an answer.

Gently prying Geno’s phalanges from his robe and shushing him when he whined, the god carefully adjusted the smaller skeleton in his arms to secure him better before rising to his feet. “Let’s get you into bed.” he said, speaking to Geno in hopes his voice would keep the glitch’s mind in the present, “You’ll be more comfortable there. I don’t know why you weren’t sleeping on it to begin wi-oh.”

Pausing in front of the pile of soft cushions and blankets he brought during Geno’s preheat, Reaper frowned; too worried to bother blushing over the honey scented, stained bedding he stood before. That…made sense. It wasn’t like Geno had a method of doing laundry. Reaper never asked if he needed anything after his heat either, so of course the bedding the glitch used would be soiled. 

In hindsight, that made finding Geno napping on the grass more understandable.

“...I’m going to have to do some shopping.” He decided, picking out the cleanest blanket he could find before circling back to the patch of grass with his precious burden held close. Geno’s hand was tangled in his robe again so he carefully uncurled the smaller’s fingers before setting him down on the grass and covering him with the semi-clean blanket. “Sleep well, Geno. I’ll be right back.”

And with that, he left the ill skeleton behind…

...only to double back a few seconds later.

“I’m just going to…” Searching Geno’s pockets, Reaper pulled out the smaller skeleton’s cell phone and dialed his own cell from it. The first note of his ringtone barely began playing before he answered the call and hit speaker, quickly doing the same to Geno’s before setting the glitch’s cell next to his face where it would hopefully pick up his voice should he speak. “There,” he whispered, not wanting both cells to pick up his voice, “now I’ll know if you’ll need me.”

A little more comfortable with leaving Geno alone, the god disappeared.

First stop: Alphys.

He needed some books.

“What do you mean you don’t have any books on illnesses?” He growled darkly, sockets narrowed as he loomed over Alphys with a scowl, “You’re Knowledge! You love books, damnit! How do you not have any on the subject?!”

Alphys looked faint. To be fair, it wasn’t everyday you turned around in your private study in search of a pen only to find Death instead. Pale, she attempted to stutter herself through an explanation, “I...I d-did some spring c-cleaning a...a c-couple of y-years back! I didn’t, u-um, I t-thought that...t-that the information w-was interesting, b-but it w-wasn’t very useful a-around here so, um, I...I g-got rid of t-the books.” When his expression darkened further, she was quick to add, “M-maybe I can t-tell you what you, uh, w-want to know?”   

Suddenly, Reaper was smiling. “Yeah,” he agreed, relieved, “that would be helpful. And, before you ask,” He could see the question in her eyes, “yes. It’s for him.”

Alphys didn’t know Geno’s name, but she was aware of his interest in someone. His threatening from the first ambush kept her quiet but that didn’t mean she wasn’t interested in the fact that he had a crush. He was well aware of the glances she kept throwing his way whenever he happened across one of the marathons sometimes held at his home. It was easier in the long run just to admit that this round of questions was for Geno’s sake as well.

“Oh!” Alphys gasped, clearly delighted before realizing that, oh, Geno must have been… “He’s ill?”

“Yeah,” Reaper sighed, “and I have no idea how to help.”

“W-well, what are h-his, um, his symptoms?”

“...I don’t know,” Reaper admitted, “He was already asleep when I got there. His face was flushed and he was sweating but, other than that, I’m not sure what else was wrong. Oh, he did have a fever though. I think.”

“You t-think?”

“He felt hot but I’m not sure if it was hot enough to be called a fever. I haven’t exactly felt one before.”

“And t-that’s all y-you know?”

“Yeah.”

“...T-that’s, um, that isn’t…”

“Enough?”

Alphys looked nervous. Huh, his glare was probably working a little too well. “Goddess…”

“T-those symptoms a-are really vague!” She defended, albeit in a nervous, stuttery manner, “They c-could be p-paired with a n-number of things! I-if I had more information I could n-narrow it down, but, um, you d-don’t have anything e-else to offer…”

“Then what do I do?!” He snapped, gritting his teeth in frustration, “He’s sick , Alphys. I don’t...I don’t know how to take care of someone who’s sick. I needed those books for help. I need you for help because I have no idea what I’m supposed to do! He has a preexisting injury and I don’t want this-”

“H-he what?!” Alphys interrupted, “I-is it healed?”

“...No. It,” hesitating, Reaper frowned, “...you remember my threat from last time, right? I don’t want this information getting out, Knowledge. I don’t want anything about him getting out. If rumors start going around about my interest…”

“I w-won’t tell a-anyone,” The yellow goddess promised, “but, um, I...I n-need to know a-about t-that injury. If i-it’s serious and he’s ill, then b-being sick could be r-really harmful.”

“...He has a cut. It’s large,” he clarified, “and stretches from about his shoulder down and across his rib cage to his waist. Due to certain circumstances, it doesn’t heal. It just...bleeds, though it’s not a danger to his life. I’m unaware of what other damage there may be aside from the cut.”

“D-does it cause h-him pain? Affect his b-breathing?”

“I don’t know for sure.”

“I-is it infected a-at all?”

“It didn’t seem infected. I’m not actually sure it can get an infection, to be honest.”

“I see…” Alphys murmured, seeming lost in thought. “I...I just c-collect facts, Sans,” she said after a while, “being k-knowledgeable a-about s-something doesn’t make me an e-expert. I, um, I really wanted to help, b-but I...d-don’t really know where to go f-from here. I thought that m-maybe the injury w-would be responsible, b-but if it’s not infected…”

“...then this is wasting my time.” Reaper sighed, knowing that wasn’t what Alphys planned to say but not caring. “Is there anything you can tell me that’s of use?”

“...I-if he’s been around a l-lot of people, o-or stressed, or, um, or if h-he just has a weak immune s-system, it c-could just be a cold. You c-could try medicine a-and some care.”

Stress…? A weak immune system…?

The heat.

Geno’s fragmented soul.

“Where do I get medicine?”

“M-most mortal s-stores have-”

Reaper left before she could finish.

Next stop: The store...s.

He had quite a few things to get.

He was almost done with this shopping when the ongoing call began picking up noises. At first, he thought it was more of Geno’s adorable sleepy mumbling—he talked in his sleep, how cute—but the more he listened the more he realized that the slumbering skeleton seemed distraught. Eyeing the cart he was pushing with one hand and turning to glance back at the one he was dragging with the other, Reaper bit his tongue in consideration. The checkout line looked pretty long the last time he walked by it…

“N-no…” Geno whimpered, voice almost too soft to be heard, “Not again, p-please. P-please don’t...d-don’t hurt h-him…”

Mind made up, he rushed into the first empty aisle he could find and opened a portal straight into the save screen that he wasted no time in entering with his carts. “Geno?” He called out, leaving the stolen merchandise behind for now. “Geno, are you awake?”

His voice echoed through the phones so he ended the call while walking to the curled up form still lying on the grass. Kneeling, he carefully nudged Geno’s skull back until he could see his face. Flushed and crying, but still asleep.

“Paps…!”

And having a bad dream.

His magazines really needed to step up their game. They didn’t have articles on how to handle a traumatized, sick skeleton.

Good thing he had General Hospital and Grey’s Anatomy saved on his phone.

“P-Paps….Paps!”

“...Geno,” he sighed, briefly cupping the smaller skeleton’s cheek before standing and walking a few paces away, “just bear with it for a few more minutes, Geno. You’ll fight me on everything I do if I wake you up now.”   

A small whimpered cry almost made him turn back to wake Geno now, but he decided against it. Geno was stubborn. Too stubborn for his own good sometimes and Reaper didn’t want to risk starting a back and forth with him because Geno kept trying to insist he didn’t need everything he bought. Instead, he rushed to his carts and began digging through the supplies threatening to topple out of them. It wasn’t quite a fluffy bed but…

“There you are!”

Pulling out a long, rolled up futon, Reaper tossed it onto the ground and began spreading it out. It was meant to fit one person but it was far longer than Geno was tall and should give him more than enough wiggle room width wise as well. Straightening it out, he turned back to his carts and began setting up a decent spread of soft pillows and even softer blankets. He had some spares but those could be set aside until these ones needed to be cleaned. Huh, maybe he should get Geno a washer....

A pack of waters, nearly the entire medicine shelf, simple foods that either didn’t need to be cooked or could be microwaved and, oh yeah, a microwave. “Let’s see if you’ll work…” there wasn’t anywhere to plug it in, so he simply set it within reach of Geno’s new bed and pressed a random button.

Beep!

“Hey, it works!”

Thank you weird save screen logic.

There was more in the cart but this would do for now. Peeling back the blankets on the futon, he made his way back to Geno and pulled him up into his arms again, frowning at the abnormal heat seeping into his body from Geno’s burning form as he carried the glitch to his bed. “Here,” he said, worry clear in his voice, “this should be more comfortable, Geno. Let’s try waking you up now. I don’t like the sounds you’re making.”

“...Paps...m’sorry…”

“Yeah, I really don’t like that either. C’mon Geno,” tapping the smaller’s cheek, he raised his voice a bit, “wake up. Wake up, Gen! Up, up, up!”

“Hmmm,” Geno groaned, flinching away from the insistent patting of his face, “stop…”

“Geno? Geno, Geno, Geno~”

“No…”

“Wake up, Geno. Um, wakey, wakey eggs and bakey?”

“...Hm...?” Sockets fluttering open, Geno slowly blinked and stared up at him with a confused expression. “...Reaper?” he murmured, voice an unnatural rasp, “What...what are you…?”

“Hey, Gen,” Reaper said, relieved, “how are you feeling?”

“...F...fine….”

Yup. Stubborn, stubborn Geno. “Geno, c’mon. Unless you’re blushing, I don’t think your face should be that red. Your nasal cavity is really flushed too. Can you breathe?”

“I’m a skeleton…”

“Yeah, yeah you don’t need to, but can you?”

“...”

“Geno.”

Averting his eyelight with what Geno would call a scowl but anyone else would name a pout, the glitch sighed and slowly shook his head. “No,” he admitted, voice unaffected by the magic clogging his nose, “I can’t.”

Nodding his head in response, Reaper began looking through the multiple boxes of medication he threw into the cart. “Sinus medicine maybe?” he uttered under his breath, “Does your throat hurt? Your head? Any nausea?”

“Reaper-”

“Do you feel the need to use the bathroom?”

“Reaper!” Geno snapped, immediately wincing afterwards when the sharp words sent him into a coughing fit. That was probably a yes on the sore throat. Strange considering he didn’t have one. “What are you doing here? Where did...where did all this stuff come from?” a pause, “A-am I on a bed?”

“A futon, actually. And everything obviously came from the store, Geno.”

“You bought all this?” The smaller skeleton muttered, staring at the two carts still filled with items as he absently fiddled with the soft blankets covering him. “Reaper you—” another coughing fit, “—you didn’t have to...to…”

Wincing at yet another series of painful, wet sounding coughs, Reaper pushed himself up and quickly found the pack of tissues he bought. Well, stole. Tossing them at Geno, he watched with a barely concealed worried expression as the glitch tore open the package and began tainting the soft white tissue with red. “Geno…?”

“I-it’s...it’s fine,” Geno wheezed, socket clenched shut, “t-this happens when I’m...w-when I’m…”

“Sick.” The god finished. “I’m a little out of my element, Gen. If you’ve been sick in here before,” that wasn’t a pleasant thought, “then you should know what you need. What medicine do I give you? I got...pretty much everything.”

“...Cold medicine should do.”

Although he didn’t seem happy that the one Reaper selected was liquid, Geno took the medication without protest, eagerly accepting the water bottle offered to him afterwards and using it to drown out the terrible flavor. “Are you hungry?”

“No.” The smaller muttered.

“Are you sure? I have soup!”

“Not hungry…”

“...Do you want some wet wipes? It’s not a bath but they may cool you down? Or just help you feel clean.”

“I still have some left over from-” Embarrassed, the glitch didn’t finish his sentence. “I’m fine, Reaper. You didn’t have to get anything. It’ll pass.”

Eyeing the miserable slump of Geno’s shoulders and the magic glistening on his too flushed skull, Reaper withheld a sigh. Geno’s breathing had been fine when he left but the smaller skeleton was wheezing now, most likely due to his coughing. Nothing about that or his appearance made him regret his run to the store. Besides, it’s not like he spent money on anything.

Geno would have been worth it if he did.

“It doesn’t matter if it’ll pass, Gen.” he scolds. “If I’m able to help, then I want to help. You shouldn’t have to lie on the cold floor or a dirty bed waiting out a cold just because you don’t have any other option. I can get you things, Gen, so just...just let me.”

“You’ve done enough.” Geno argues, “More than you had to, really. I...I can’t keep asking you for help. I can’t even repay you for anything you’ve done.”

Heh, those magazines really didn’t prepare him for Geno. He’s starting to think nothing would have been able to get him ready for this stubborn ball of sniffling. “You don’t need to repay me.”

“I d-!”

Geno is few seconds too late to catch the blood his cough forces out of his mouth. Little crimson specks splatter across Reaper’s face but he doesn’t so much as blink. Worse things have ended up on him while at work. Despite his own uncaring attitude, Geno looks horrified and attempts to crawl closer to clean the blood with a new, clean tissue. 

Reaper gently pushes him back. “It’s fine, Gen. Just lie down.”

“I’m sor-”

“It’s fine, Gen.” He repeated, voice firm yet soft as he coaxed the glitch into lying down and getting comfortable. “A little blood is nothing my sleeve can’t handle. Why don’t you try to sleep some more though? I’ll wake you up in,” the box said… “four hours for some more medicine.”

“M’not tired.” Came the weak protest. Geno’s socket was already slipping close. “And you have work…”

“Shhh, don’t worry about that, Gen.”

“...You keep callin’ me that…” Geno mumbled, rolling onto his side and curling up with a pillow, “Been doin’ it more and more…”

“Have I?” Reaper asked quietly, fixing the blanket around the smaller. “I haven’t noticed.”

“Mmm…” Socket shut and wheezing breaths slowing, Geno muttered, “I like it” just before he slipped into sleep.

Reaper smiled. “Sleep well, Gen. Feel better too, okay?”

Only sleepy murmurs answered him.

Bonus!

A week.

Death was bold with his absences but an entire week not too long after a three day leave? He wasn’t usually so obvious with his breaks. Reading over the report he held once more, Asgore, king of the gods, frowned; displeased.

Something was going on with Death.

And he wanted to know what that something was.

“Someone get me Undyne.”

Chapter Text

They have a routine.

“Tell me,” Reaper’s words are firm. Just as commanding as his voice is serious. They offer no room for argument, “Geno, tell me the colors.”   

As always, Geno obediently replies, “Blue if I need you to stop. Red if I need you to slow down.”

Reaper smiles, pleased. “Good.” he murmurs, teasingly sliding a finger down his lover’s spine. Colored ropes hold firm when Geno trembles at the touch. Sometimes, the ropes are chains. Or cuffs. They like to experiment. “Very, very good, Geno.”

A question, an answer, and praise.

“Are you ready, baby?”

Double checking when things look especially intense.

An agreement or a denial. This time; an agreement. “I’m ready.”

They start.

And that’s the routine. It never fails them.

There’s a saying though; a warning, some might even consider it.

Never say never.

Death’s gaze has always been solemn; Somber. Grim. No joy can be seen in those eyes of endless darkness, people like to say. There is nothing but dreariness, melancholy, and a hint of knowing that invokes a sense of dread. Currently; however, none of those things can be seen. Death’s deep, dark sockets are nearly void. Nearly, because one thing remains in his gaze:

Hunger.

Not for food though. No, no. Not for food at all.

Geno knows what the god starves for. What he desires.

Him.

“My lord,” he greets demurely, eye downcast respectfully even as he trembles under the weight of that stare, “it is an honor to have been chosen as your…” he hesitates.

Lord Death notices. “Go on,” the god pushes, amused, “say it, little sacrifice. Tell me what you are.”

“...your companion.”

“Companion?” Fingers grip his chin and Geno startles, his body jerking backwards in surprise only to bring forth a whimper when the sharp movement unsteadies him, the ropes around his wrists pulling taunt to keep him upright. The grip tightens and, obedient to the silent command, he lifts his gaze. “You’re not here to be my friend, little sacrifice. Tell me what you really are.”

“Y-your…” The words won’t come.

Death’s gaze burns. His hunger is growing. “My…?”

“...Lover.” He whispers, though, to him, it sounds a lot like pet. “Your lover.”

“Mm, and what a fine lover you’ll be.” Slowly, Death circles him, like a cat waiting to pounce upon the mouse they have in their sights. “Tell me,” he purrs, “have you ever given yourself away, little sacrifice?”

Eyelight flickering to the side, Geno slowly shook his head. “N-no.”

Death comes to an abrupt stop just before him. “Oh? So you claim to be innocent…? Untainted by another’s touch? Pure?”

“It is no mere claim, Lord Death,” he says, voice wavering where it should remain firm, “it is the truth.”

“The truth, you say?” The god murmurs, casting a shadow as he looms over Geno, “Strange, isn’t it? That they’d dress a virgin in red?”

“T-the color of my c-clothing means nothing.” Geno stutters, attempting to step back when Death nears but stilling when he stumbles. “I...I’m a...a…”

“Are you nervous?”

“I...I…”

The god’s hand is cold as it settles against his cheek, yet that is not the reason Geno quakes before him. “Are you scared?” Death questions, voice an intimate whisper as the distance between them begins to close, “Or could it be that you feel neither nervousness nor fear, but excitement?”

Embarrassment brings a flush to his cheeks. “No, my lord. I...I have simply accepted my fate. There is no need for nervousness or fear and there is no,” he stumbles over his words, his flush growing stronger with the smirk nearly skimming his uncertain smile, “n-no ex...e-excitement.”

“None?” The god purrs

“No e-excitement whatsoever, m-my Lord Death.”

Their smiles were so close, the space between their teeth so small that even air could not fit within the minuscule gap. “How brave…” Death said, his words spoken softly, “...of you to lie to a god not once, but twice.”

His socket widened. “W-wha—ah!”

Smirking deviously as the distance between them grew again, the god laughed; low and pleased. “Your body betrays your words, little sacrifice.” Withdrawing his hand from the thighs it crept between, Death held his fingers up so that the bound skeleton quivering before him could see the magic glistening on his phalanges. “How bold. How foolish.”

“I...I…” Terribly flustered, Geno presses his thighs together and looks away. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what to do, dressed and strung up as he was; helpless against the god he was meant to appease. To pleasure. “My lord, I-”

“Silence.”

Made meek by the command, he fell silent; gaze averted.

“Hold your silence until I allow you to speak.” Death ordered, circling him once again. “I need a moment to think.” He chuckled, “To appreciate.”

Embarrassed, Geno shut his eye.

He knew what his lord was appreciating.

“You look exquisite…” Came the god’s deep, pleased purr as he savored the sight Geno made in the long, elegant, and sensual robe he wore. 

As Death stated, the small skeleton was dressed in a deep tone of red just a few shades darker than the skin it poorly concealed. Poorly because, though so long it trailed across the floor, the robe was daringly revealing in its thinness. Sheer, you could even call it with the alluring way black and red was seen through the fabric. 

“You look helpless.” Arms forced high above his head causing his sleeves to pool around his shoulders, wrist bound by rope and anchored to a hook.... Geno was helpless. And Death knew it. “I think I’ll enjoy you, little sacrifice.” Taking hold of the tie that held the robe closed, the taller skeleton pulled and watched with a hungry, gleeful gaze as the loose knot unraveled; the robe drifting open to reveal the prize beneath. “I think I’ll enjoy you very, very much.”

Bound and exposed, Geno had no method of hiding himself from the other. Instead, he was forced to stand there as Death ravished him with a stare, the god’s gaze a heavy weight that scorched him for his efforts of bearing it. 

“What a lovely gift you are.” Death murmured heatedly, devouring the sight of red flesh bundled beautifully in lingerie. Sinful panties failing to hide the treat that laid in wait behind lace and a tight, low-cut corset that threatened spill out the breast it barely contained. Both as black as the tall heels the skeleton wore. “All you’re missing is a bow. Actually…” Although it was difficult to tell, the god’s gaze slowly slid to the long strip of red he held; the tie for the robe. “...open your mouth, little sacrifice.”

“M-My lord-!”

“I ordered you to open your mouth, not to speak.” 

Swallowing nervously, Geno dropped his gaze to the floor and slowly opened his mouth as told. His teeth were barely parted before the silky, red tie was being pressed into his mouth and wrapped around his head. The scrap of fabric was long though, and Geno found the red passing his skull in circles quite a few times until, finally, his mouth was full of the fabric the god was tying off front and center in a little bow.

“Mmm…!” he quietly whined when he was given the go ahead to close his mouth, finding the task impossible now with the fabric gagging him. “Mmp!”

“Show me what you’ll do if things go too far, Gen.” Reaper murmured, cupping his cheek and tracing the bone just below the makeshift gag. “Let me see if you remember.”

Meeting the god’s eye, Geno raised a heel clad foot and stomped on the ground three times. 

Reaper smiled. “Perfect. Now,” voice lowering, he dropped his hand and eyed his bound offering lustfully, “spread your legs, little sacrifice.”

Flushed, Geno went to lower his gaze again but a finger hooking under his chin stopped him. “Ah-ah,” Death tisked, “keep your eyes on me. I lose the pleasure of hearing your voice so I want to see the way you’ll come undone.”

He’s embarrassed, but he’s eager, too. Geno is meant to please his god, yes, but he wants to do so as well, even if he’s mortified just by how much he wants that. Gathering his courage must take too long though, because Death clicks his tongue at him again and begins kneeling down.

“Be honored, little sacrifice,” he purrs, cool hands settling around Geno’s knees, “for a god kneels before you on this night.”

With that, he pushes, the pressure against his legs coaxing the small, bound skeleton into spreading them before the god with hunger still in his gaze. Death has been patient, yet still he craves. 

Fingers curl under the band of the panties he wear. They’re dragged down.

Death starves.

And Geno, bound and spread, offers to him a feast.

At the first pass of the god’s tongue across his lips, Geno tenses with a loud, drawn out moan; his body jolting instinctively in a manner that unsteadies him on his heels. Hands slide from his parted knees up to his hips to keep his lower body still as the ropes around his wrist to their job to aid in his immobilization. Stuck standing as he is, the small skeleton is defenseless against the pleasure of a second swipe. A third.

After the fourth, the tongue pushes pass his slick folds in favor of teasing at his slit where fluid leaks. Enticed by the promise of his lover’s nectar, Death delves deep into the heat awaiting his touch with a vigor prominent in the way he pushes closer, digs deeper, and groans at the treat Geno rewards him with in muffled keens and moans. 

Yes, Geno wants to cry as he rocks against the god’s skillful tongue, yes, yes, yes!

Instead, what leaves him is distorted by the dampening cloth in his mouth, “Mm! Mm, mm, mm!”

He feels the smirk pressed against his most intimate flesh yet the acknowledgement of it is a distant thing in the face of his pleasure. It isn’t until the god’s tongue retreats and he chuckles at his disappointed whine that Geno recalls that such an expression never bodes well when it is Death that wears it.

“Are you watching?” The kneeling deity questions, head tilted to meet Geno’s gaze. Obscene doesn’t even begin to cover the magic painting his face and Geno’s stare nearly falters when the god’s smirk unseals and his tongue drags against his smile, tasting the mess the bound skeleton has made. “Does it bring you pleasure to watch a god bring you pleasure , little sacrifice?”

Geno can’t answer. Verbally, at least. Seeing the expectancy in those unsettling eyes, he slowly nods; embarrassed. The smirk grows.

“You’re truthful now. Good. Let me show you what rewards honesty brings.”

And just like that, the god returns to his ministrations, his feast, under the guise of rewarding Geno, though the small skeleton knows Death’s hunger wouldn’t have kept him away for long no matter what answer he gave. He knows-

A swipe of tongue against his clit, blunt teeth delivering a sharp pain that ebbs into pleasure, and the heat of a mouth as the small bundles of nerves is suckled into burning sensitivity.

-Geno knows nothing but pleasure.

“Mmm!” He moans, socket fluttering and neck tensing as he fights against the urge to throw his head back and simply bask in the sensations he feels. His toes curl and uncurl in his heels, mimicking the clenching of his walls as his body begs to be filled. “Mm! Mmm!”

An attempt to push his legs wide is halted by the stretched lace around his ankles. Annoyed, Death slides a hand down to the delicate collection of bones and raises Geno’s leg to free it from the fabric restricting it. Geno himself goes to lower the leg once freed but the god’s grip around his ankle tightens. Stop, the action says, so he stops. Follow me, the hand says when Geno feels Death pull and, obedient, he follows the motion as the god guides his leg up and around his neck.

His arms ache when the rope around his wrist pulls tight upon being made to hold the smaller skeleton’s weight after his other leg is coaxed around the god’s head as well. It hurts, Geno thinks in the absent way someone notes the sky is blue. Then, Death readjusts himself, taking some of the weight onto his own shoulders—literally—and the discomfort in his arms alleviates. That distant, yet present soreness becomes easier to ignore, especially when the new angle provides the god with better access to his-

“Mm!” Geno cries, this time unable to keep his head from tossing back in mind numbing exhilaration.

The tongue is back. Deeper than before, too, only, this time, fingers tease at his invaded mound alongside it; stroking his sensitive slit and squeezing into his heat to join the lustful muscle.

Although Geno is the one being pleasured, Death moans too, groaning his enjoyment of his treat into the bound skeleton’s highly sensitive flesh as his tongue and fingers thrust in a search for more. More of the sounds Geno shrieks, more of the fluid telling of his excitement, just more.

The chain anchoring the hook to the complex arrangement of poles that Geno’s rope bound wrists hangs from jingles almost cheerfully as he thrashes, his hips rocking needily while he rides the slick bit of magic and skillful fingers inside of him. It’s good. So, so good and Death has long since given up on keeping him still so he is free to push into the pleasure as much as he wishes.

When phalanges brush against nerves and sharp pleasure shoots through him like electricity, Geno’s toes curl again he whines in need; uncaring of the way his shoes loosen and fall from his feet. They’re just shoes. Unimportant in the face of the utter euphoria his god brings.

Again those fingers find his special little spot. Death knows his body well and abuses the knowledge he holds. His fingers twist, his tongue curls, and, his free hand finds Geno clit to drag the willing skeleton closer and closer to the edge he seeks. Pleasure wets Geno’s socket—his vision blurring with tears—because he needs that last push; the coaxing over the cliff into the waves of ecstasy that awaits below.

“Mmm! Mmm, mmm!” Please, he tries to beg the deity. Please, please!

When the tongue exits his dripping sex, his cries get louder despite the fingers that continue drilling inside him. No, no! He wants that slick heat back inside! He wants-

Death tilts his head and flashes him a vicious grin.

“Mine,” he whispers, “my darling little sacrifice.”

His head turns and he bites, teeth sinking into the flesh of Geno’s inner thigh with possessive intent to mark him as the god’s just as fingers push into him at the perfect angle. 

And that’s it.

That’s the push that whitens Geno’s vision and strains his bound arms when he arches, head thrown back and socket void as he screams his completion into his makeshift gag. 

He loses time. He’s sure he must because by the time he blinks Death no longer kneels with his legs thrown up around his head. Instead, he stands before Geno with a wide, marrow-tinted grin, magic tricking from his face just as it does down the smaller skeleton’s thighs.

“Look at you,” he purrs; proud, “all strung up, limp with the pleasure gifted to you by your god. Sated, are you?”

In an attempt to appear stronger than he feels, he tries to stand more firmly but his bindings were made with his heels in mind and, without them, he struggles to touch the floor. Death is watching, though, waiting, so he stretches until the very tips of his toes steadies him and answers the god with a shake of his head. Pleased? Yes. Sated however? No, for the god’s hunger has spread and Geno yearns for more.

“What a greedy thing you are.” Death chuckles, as though the straining cloth over his erection is not evidence that he himself is a glutton. “Tell me,” his hands begin to unravel the ropes he wears, “do you yearn for it, little sacrifice? I’ve been gracious by gifting you pleasure but my own needs go unanswered. I’m going to use you,” he promised, erection now unveiled and throbbing with arousal, “but will you enjoy it? Do you desire it? The position as my lover...the chance to be my toy?”

His walls clench around the nothingness within him, fluid leaking down to join the mess dirtying his legs and thighs. Arousal wars with mortification and, stuck between the two, Geno whimpers around the cloth in his mouth; flushed as, slowly, he nods.

Smirking, the god stalks behind him, disappearing from the bound skeleton’s sight. Although his hands are cold where they come up to rest on his hips, Death himself is hot as he presses himself to Geno’s back; erection prominent against him. 

A hand trails up the corset Geno wears. Upon finding the top of the daring dip, Death grips the restrictive clothing and pulls, the smaller skeleton’s breast revealed as he folds the top of the corset over just enough to expose Geno. Unabashed, Death takes Geno in hand and rolls a nipple between a finger and a thumb, earning himself a muffled mewl that widens his smirk. 

“I’ve had my taste,” he murmurs, teeth skimming the side of Geno’s skull as he toys with the newly revealed flesh of his lover, “so now... 

Pushing Geno's loosely hanging robe away, Death takes himself in hand and guides his member to Geno’s weeping, lustful slit where he teasingly grinds into the wanting flesh. Shuddering, Geno whimpers, a sharp pinch to his nipple extending the sound into a high, restrained squeal.

“...it’s time we both get our fill.”

With that, the god pushes inside with a single hard thrust. 

With the god behind him, ready to enter, Geno had been forced to spread his legs in accommodation for his lord, his previous struggle in reaching the floor doubled when the position made it even more difficult for his toes to skim the ground. Now, with his lord within him, there is no struggle to stand, for there is little use in struggling when the god is harsh and fast and every thrust inside of Geno’s heat jolts him forward; his feet scrambling pointlessly in an attempt to maintain their connection to the ground.

As always, their coupling brings forth pleasure, so Geno moans, “Mm! Mmm, mm, mm!” 

He moans and whimpers and keens because it feels good. Because he enjoys the hot length that invades him. Because he loves the feeling of the god —his god—fucking him, using him for his own pleasure in a manner that increases Geno’s own. He wants it, so badly you could even say he needs it, but, as Death drives into him with vigor, Geno finds his pleasured cries tainted with discomfort. 

With pain.

Pain is nothing new when it comes to their fun. Although the fact embarrasses him, Geno likes the sensation of being hurt in various delicious ways. This pain is different, however. It isn’t like the sting of the bite mark that now decorates his thigh or the pinches to his breast and clit that drive him insane. This pain, born from the pressure in his arms as they’re forced to carry his weight, doesn’t transition into anything pleasant. It simply grows.

Moaning in pleasured discomfort, Geno raises his leg and attempts to stomp. Attempts.

He can’t reach.

Brow furrowing, he stretches his leg the best he can. His toes scrape the floor and he tries to tap out the three beats he needs to alert Reaper but his lover is unaware of his plight and pushes forward into his sex again. Geno’s body moves with the thrust and the tentative connection he had with the floor is lost. 

Again, he stretches and just barely reaches the ground.

Again, he loses his purchase.

Reaper is gripping onto his hips as he fucks into him, but the hold isn’t meant to support Geno’s weight. With Geno unable to reach the ground, nothing is supporting his weight aside from his arms and it hurts. The rope around his wrists is pulling too tight and he...he isn’t fun. He wants to change positions.

Once more, he tries to signal his needs to his boyfriend.

Once again, he fails.

‘I can’t do it,” He realizes, and fear sends his heart pounding.

He can’t stomp.

He can’t tell Reaper he wants him to stop.

He can’t tell Reaper he needs him to stop.

Bound and gagged, Geno is meant to be helpless. It’s a game. One they played before, even. It’s fun. It’s meant to be fun, at least. Enjoyable.  

Right now, he isn't having very much fun.

Another thrust, another moan, but, this time, Geno cries. He needs to stop! He needs to stop! He needs to stop! His arms—

A particularly sharp thrust sends him forward quite a bit and Geno shrieks when pain spikes in his shoulder joint. Even as the unpleasant feeling hits, pleasure still shoots through his body but he can’t enjoy it. He isn’t enjoying it. He wants it to stop! He...he…

“Mmmm!” He cries into the cloth forcing his silence. “Mmm! Mm! Mmmm!”

Another thrust.

“Mmm!”

Another.

When Reaper pulls out and his grip tightens, Geno sobs harder. He knows what the better grip means. He knows and, panicked, he screams against his gag as loud as he can; legs kicking wildly as his socket clenches shut in fear. “Mm! Mmm! Mmm! Mmm!”

Terrified, he braces himself.

But Reaper pauses. 

“Geno?”

Relieved, he kicks his legs harder; trembling.“Mm! Mmm!”

“Honey?” Tapping signals that Reaper is moving. “Is something—shit!” The god curses, stopping in front of him and knowing the moment he meets Geno’s frightened gaze that something is definitely wrong.

 Thankfully, that knowing is all Reaper needs to jump into action. 

Uncaring of his nudity or the arousal clear between his legs, the taller skeleton lifts Geno into his arms and raises the smaller skeleton up and up again until the bindings around his wrist are free from the hook. Immediately, Geno attempts to bring his arms down but finds that he’s been hanging by them for too long to move so quickly.

“Keep them up, Gen.” Reaper gently instructs, lowering them to the ground and quickly marching towards the bed they so often share. “Just keep them up, baby. I’ll take care of you.”

He’s upset. He’s scared, too, even if his fear feels irrational. Despite either of those feelings, he relaxes. 

Reaper said he’ll take care of him.

And Geno believes him.

“Here, baby.” The god comforts, gently setting Geno down on their bed so he’s laid flat on his back. His arms remain up and slowly, carefully, Reaper guides them down as well; massaging the aching bones with one hand as the other picks at the knots around his wrists. Once the colored rope is unraveled and most of the aches are gone, he helps Geno rest each arm at his sides. “I’m going to take the gag off now, okay?”

Sniffling, Geno nods his agreement. The makeshift gag is more than a little damp from his saliva but Reaper doesn’t seem to care as he undoes the bow and quickly guides the long piece of fabric away from his skull. 

“Can you say something, honey?”

“Reaper…” He murmurs, voice shaky with distress. 

His lover’s expression softens. “Do you want the corset off too?” When he nods, the god gets right down to business and begins plucking at the complex ties that hold it shut. Thankfully, they’re on the front. Geno doesn’t feel like moving. “Can you tell me what happened, baby? You weren’t telling me you needed to stop but you clearly wanted to, Gen.”

“I couldn’t.” Blinking tears from his socket, Geno sniffles and explains that, “My arms were starting to hurt but my heels fell off when you were…” A little flustered, he left that part unsaid and continued with his explanation. “I...I couldn’t reach the floor without them.”

“And if you couldn’t reach the floor you couldn’t stomp.” Reaper adds, connecting the dots with an upset frown. Tossing the corset to the side, he pulls the robe Geno still wore shut and opens his arms invitingly for his smaller boyfriend. “Come here, honey.”

Uncaring that Reaper sits nude, Geno shakily pushes himself up and crawls onto the taller skeletons lap, thankful to find his boyfriend's magic dispelled. “M’sorry.”

“For what?” Reaper questions, confused. “You didn’t do anything wrong, babe. If anything, I’m the one that should be apologizing. It’s my job to keep you safe when we play these games, Gen. I should have taken your height into consideration instead of the height of the heels. I know how easy those things fall off your feet.”

“We were having fun.” Geno responds, voice quiet as he leans into his boyfriend. “You were excited for tonight, too.”

“Geno,” the god said seriously, “No amount of excitement or fun is ever going to be worth you getting hurt. You looked scared, Gen. It’s one thing if you’re playing a role but you shouldn’t actually feel scared when we have sex.” There’s something in the silence that follows Reaper’s words. Nervousness, perhaps. Maybe fear. “...How long did I keep going after you stopped enjoying it?”

“No.” Geno says, frowning as he wiped his eye.

“Geno-”

Shaking his head, he glares. “No. I know what you’re thinking and you didn’t-”

“I did!” Reaper argues, “Gen, if I kept going when you didn’t want it then…”

“You didn’t assault me, Reaper.” Geno says, shooting the argument down. “I...I was getting scared but you didn’t know. And you didn’t go on for too long either.”

“Not knowing doesn’t excuse that I-”

“You didn’t!” The smaller skeleton interrupts, this time more firmly as he reaches up to cup his boyfriend’s face. “You...you didn’t do that to me, okay?”

“If you didn’t want it anymore and I kept going…”

“You stopped!” Smoothing out the concerned furrow between Reaper’s brows, Geno smiles. It's a little shaky, yeah, but the affection within it is clear. “You would have stopped the second I asked if I had been able to. I...I got scared. I wanted it to stop. You didn’t know that though, Reaps, but you stopped the moment you realize something was wrong. It was just for a few minutes too.”

“...I should have prepared better.” Reaper murmurs in response, forehead pressed against his lover’s, “A few minutes is a few minutes too long, Geno. No matter what you say, it wasn’t right that I didn’t stop the instant you needed me to. I never wanted to put you in a position like that, Gen. I never wanted you to feel terrified during sex.”

“It was an accident.”

“An accident doesn’t make it right.” Gently nuzzling the smaller skeleton, Reaper frowns, “Stars forbid this ever happens again, but if it does, promise me that you’ll use magic to stop me.”

“Reap-”

“Promise me, Geno.” Reaper demands, “I can take a hit, baby. Hell, you can use blue magic if it makes you feel better. Just...just promise me you’ll use some kind of magic if you’re ever unable to use our words or whatever else we agreed on to signal a stop. Promise me, Gen. I...I don’t want to risk doing this again.”

“You won’t.” Genp says, full of confidence. “I know you, Reaps. You won’t make the same mistake twice. But,” he adds when his boyfriend frowns, “I promise, okay? I don’t like the idea but...I’ll use magic if I ever have to.”

“Thank you.” The god breathes; relieved. 

Geno let his head fall against his lover’s shoulder. “Thanks for worrying about me, Reaper.”

“You’re my Gen, honey,” The god murmurs, “I’ll always worry about you. Do you want to take a bath? Some warm water should help with any leftover aches.”

The smaller skeleton shook his head. “I just want to stay in bed. Maybe nap.”

“Mm, with me?”

“With you...” Geno confirms, smiling. And maybe it was inappropriate, maybe it was a little tasteless with his poor experience in mind, but Geno couldn’t help but add, “...my lord.”

Suddenly, he was on his back, Reaper draped over him like a naked lazy cat. “Go to bed, you little shit.” he grumbles.

“As you wish, Lord Death.”

“Sleep. Now.”

Chuckling a bit, Geno pushes his boyfriend off of him so that he could curl into his arms. “You’ll be here when I wake up?”

“I’ll be here as long as you want me to.” Reaper promises.

Geno’s socket fell closed. “Even if I want you here forever?”

“I love you, Geno.” Voice lowering to a whisper, the god kisses the smaller skeleton’s head and covers them both with a blanket. “Forever sounds like a dream.”

“Mmm,” smiling, Geno mumbles, “we’ll have to make forever happen then.”

He falls asleep just fast enough to miss Reaper’s reply.

“Good thing Alphys finished the ring.”

Chapter Text

“Am I in the right fucking place?”

Magic encasing his dual tone glare, Geno spun around with a wide, threatening smile set on his face and an attack in hand; ready for battle. “Who-! Oh.” Smiling sheepishly, he let his magic disperse. “Hi, Error.”

The destroyer didn’t look pleased. “I regret letting you live.”

“Wow,” he said flatly, “you’re so nice. I can really tell you miss me.”

“Die.”

“Did that already. Wasn’t fun.”

For a moment, the glitch and destroyer stood in silence, staring each other down with unreadable expressions. 

Geno cracked first. “Pfft!”

“Idiot.” Error said, natural grin hiking up higher in amusement. 

“Asshole,” Geno shot back, “it’s been awhile.”

Raising a brow, Error made a show of looking around the slightly cluttered area the two stood in, silently observing all the things that Geno really shouldn’t have been able to get for himself.

“You don’t say?” Squinting, he leaned forward a bit. “Is...is that a fucking microwave? Why do you have a microwave? No, wait, how do you have a fucking microwave?! You said you can’t leave this place without dusting.”

Watching the taller skeleton nudge the microwave with his foot, Geno shrugged. “I can’t.”

“Then where the fuck did this thing come from?”

Shrugging again, the glitch grinned. “ He just brought it over one day and, somehow, it works even though it isn't plugged in."

“But how?! Wait,” confused, Error turned his squint to Geno, “who the hell is ‘he’?!”  

Instead of answering, Geno motioned to the futon still unrolled on the floor and the bedding that was spread over it messily. “He brought me some blankets and pillows too. Oh, and a phone.”

“Who the fuck is ‘he’?!”

“He? He who?”

Error’s expression darkened, “You aren’t Ink, asshole, just tell me!”

Ink was the artistic pain in the ass Error liked to complain about with a smile, Geno recalled. Apparently, the guy had a pretty terrible memory. 

Geno tilted his head, brows furrowed. “Tell you what?”

“Tell me who-” When Geno’s faux confusion melted away into amusement, the dark boned skeleton growled, “I really regret letting you live now, glitch. Clearly you regret my decision too and want me to fix my past mistake.”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. No need to kill me over a bit of teasing.”

“Too late,” Error grinned threateningly, “you’re going to die no-”

“Oh,” Geno raised his eyes above Error’s head, “hey Fresh!”

Screeching, Error spun around. “I told you not to-”

There was no one behind him.

Wisely, Geno ran the moment he saw the other skeleton’s fingers being lifted to his face, the darkness enough to hide him but unable to disguise his echoing laughter as well. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

“Not yet you aren’t! But you will be the moment I get my strings around your fucking neck!”

“It was just a—fuck!” 

For once, Geno was thankful for his height, his heart pounding in his chest as he moved away from the strings that shot out just above his head. Oddly enough, the blue threads didn’t grow slack and fall to the ground after missing their target. Instead, they were pulled taunt, as if connected to a ceiling or wall; both of which the save screen lacked. 

Geno couldn’t see Error, but he had a feeling the destroyer was frozen in shock just like he was. That was….

“What the actual fuck is up with this place?!”

Yeah, that summed his own confusion up pretty well. “I...I have no idea.”

“There is literally nothing on the other end of my strings but it feels like there is! That...that makes no fucking sense!”

“It’s easier to just ignore it.”

“Ignore it?! Don’t you like science or some shit?! How are you ignoring this?!”

“It’s precisely because I do like science that I’m ignoring it.” Deeming it safe, he began walking back the way he came. Hopefully it was the way he came, at least. Darkness had a tendency of looking the same no matter which direction you faced. “If I think about all the ways this place breaks the laws of physics for too long, I’ll go insane.”

There was something strange in Error’s voice when he replied. Something heavy Geno didn’t quite understand but knew better than to ask about. “Don’t go batshit over science being fucked over, glitch. You’d be a pain in the ass to deal with.”

“Aww, you do care!” He teased, eye catching the warm glow of a small lamp he kept by his bed. Picking up the pace a bit, he sighed in relief once he finally ended up back at his makeshift room. Once, he got lost in the void-like darkness for what felt like days. He was glad he avoided a repeat of that. “Where are you, by the way? I don’t see you.”

“I’m like two feet away from your weird microwave.”

“...Error. I’m next to the microwave and I don’t see you.”

“What?” Strange, Geno couldn’t tell if Error’s voice sounded far away or close by. “What the fuck?! I swear I was just by that damn microwave!”

“Can you see it? Or me?”

“No!”

“Can you not see because of your eyesight or because it’s dark?”

“If that’s you trying to lead into another lecture about me needing to wear my glasses then shut the fuck up, glitch face. I can’t see because all there is around me is this stupid void.”

“How did you get so far away?!”

“I don’t know! I don’t even know if I am far away! Can you see me?”

“...Error?”

“No. I don’t like that tone. Shut up.”

“Error, seriously, I think-”

“No. Idiots don’t get to think.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re lost.”

“I am not lost, damnit! I only took like ten steps away!”

“Well obviously you took more than ten steps!”

“I know how many steps I took, asshole!”

“Clearly you don’t!” The sudden silence didn’t so much as unnerve Geno as it did annoy him. “...You’re flipping me off, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

Rolling his eye, the bloodied skeleton flopped down on his futon and got himself comfortable. “Good luck finding your way back, asshole. I hope you never make it out of the dark.”

Actually, never making it out was probably a very real concern for Error to have. Even Geno didn’t actually know if the infinite void was, well, actually infinite. The idea of possibly roaming forever in the search for the end that may not be unnerved him. Frightened him, if he were honest, so he never tried to figure out if this place had walls. If he went too far and couldn’t find his way back....

Would he be lost in the dark forever? 

“I...I think I’m going in fucking circles! FUCK THIS PLACE!”

A small, strained chuckle left Geno and, smiling, he pushed his shadowy thoughts away. Error would probably be a while. “Just pick one direction and keep walking!”

“I am!”

“If you’re walking in one direction, then how are you going in circles?”

“Because this place makes no sense!”

“Sure, blame it on the save screen.”

“You know what? Fuck you, Geno! No talking until I find my way back to you so I can kick your ass!”

Taking a page out of the lost skeleton’s book, Geno raised a hand and flipped a single finger up in the direction he was pretty sure Error’s voice was coming from. “You’ll have to stop going in circles first!”

Error screamed in annoyance.

Distantly, he felt a slight vibration against his leg and absentmindedly reached into the pocket of his shorts for his phone, the motion done through muscle memory rather than an active desire to do so.

1 New Message From: Deadly Bastard
Swipe to view

“Why the fuck do you live in this hellhole?!”

“Because it’s the only place I can survive?” Distractedly, he swiped the screen of his phone. 

Deadly Bastard

Genoooo

Help meeee

Formal meetings are so boring:(

A meeting? Grin quirking up at the corners, he glanced around him for a sign of Error once more before turning his attention to his phone and typing away on the glowing screen.

Deadly Bastard

Suffer.

You deserve the boredom. 

How could you say that?! D:

I don’t deserve this, Geno!

I’ve done nothing wrong!

1: You keep skipping work. 

2: You’re texting while being yelled at.

“Done nothing wrong” my ass.

Your ass you say?

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

I

I have no clue what that face is?

Despite his slight confusion, Geno found himself grinning at his phone, his good mood improved further by the sulky grumbling he could hear in the distance. Error was still lost, huh? The big, bag destroyer of worlds got himself lost in the dark. 

Reaper would probably find that hilarious.

Heh. 

“Gross, you’re smiling.” 

Fumbling for his phone when he shrieked and jumped, Geno cursed once he finally saved it from falling and quickly shoved it in his jacket pocket, too focused on whirling around to notice the way the screen changed. 

“I thought you were lost?!” he exclaimed, snatching up a pillow and smacking Error in the face with it as punishment for startling him so badly. “You scared the shit out of me!”

Rubbing his face with a scowl, Error tore the pillow out of Geno’s hands and smacked him with it twice. He added a third hit in for good measure. “I can teleport just like you, dumbass.”

Huh, Geno sometimes forgot about his shortcuts. The last time he really needed one was during his battle with Reaper. Heh.

“Ugh,” Error groaned, “you’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“Smiling. You’re usually such a depressing bastard that it’s actually creeping me out. Stop it.”

“We’re skeletons, remember? We always smile.”

“Usually, yeah, but not the gross smiling you’re doing now.”

“How is it gross?! It’s a smile!”

“That’s the same smile I’ve seen on idiots when they’re in—oh fuck no.”

Curious, the smaller skeleton glanced at the destroyer. “What?”

Error was staring at him in disbelief. “You have got to be kidding me.”

Geno frowned, “Seriously, what?”

“Who got you all this shit?” The destroyer demanded, motioning to the little area Geno had set up. His futon, bedding, the microwave...those were really just the start of the glitch’s new collection of household items. “And no games this time, glitch. I want to know.”

Frown deepening, Geno crossed his arms and looked away. “Does it matter?”

“Geno,” the use of his name drew his attention, “there aren’t all that many abominations that can travel through the multiverse on their own. Even if there was though, this place isn’t easy to find. The chances of someone coming across you are low, so I want to know who’s luck is so shitty that they not only found you but got roped into being your sugar daddy afterwards.”

Flushed, Geno sputtered, “Reaper isn’t my sugar daddy!”

Error’s eyes widened. There was surprise, yeah, but more than that was recognition. “Reaper? As in fucking Reapertale?! YOU’RE IN LOVE WITH DEATH?!” A pause, “YOU’RE FUCKING DEATH?!”

“NO!” Geno shouted, blush spreading across his entire skull and beginning to creep down his neck. “What the fuck?! No, I’m not- I don’t-!” flustered, he finally spat out, “Reaper is just a friend!”

“BuLlsHiT!” The destroyer shouted, voice warbling strangely as he stared at Geno in utter disbelief. “You can’t say his name without smiling all fondly and shit!”

“That doesn’t mean I’m in love with him! Or s-sleeping with him!”

“There’s no way he’d buy you all this if you weren’t fucking him.” Hand running across the wrinkled surface of one of Geno’s blankets, Error raised a brow. “This is good quality.” he glanced around, “This is all good quality shit. If you’re not sleeping with him now, then he’s probably hoping you will.”

“Reaper isn’t like that!” Forcing down his embarrassment, Geno thought back to his mortifying behavior from his preheat and glared at Error. “He…” stars, he was really going to say this, wasn’t he? “Reaper had a pretty good opportunity to sleep with me if he wanted to. I wouldn’t have said no.” 

Reaper hated formal meetings.

Exclusive to those among the gods considered to be within the upper hierarchy of the realm, these formal meetings were usually grand, posh events closer to parties than meetings held around a table. Despite his poor reputation, Reaper, as the eldest Death, was expected to attend every so-called meeting in his best formal attire which, for him, meant throwing on a finer set of robes that always eventually ended up being torn at the hem. In all honesty, the nicer clothing wasn’t his issue.

It was the mingling.

The required mingling.

Pretending not to notice the familiar mix of hatred and fear in the eyes of the deity before him, Reaper nodded respectfully and stepped aside when they excused themselves from the conversation in order to get a drink. One minute and twenty three seconds. So far, that was the longest conversation to last. Impressive.

Bzz, bzz!

Smiling, he shot a discreet glance at where Asgore sat on his throne before quickly ducking behind a pillar and pulling out his phone. He and Geno were in the middle of a conversation when a stern look from Asgore made him quickly pocket his phone. Now that the big guy's attention was elsewhere…

Excitedly taking out his shaking cell, he accepted the call.

“Geno~”

“We’re skeletons, remember? We always smile.”

“...What?”

“How is it gross?! It’s a smile!”

“Geno?”

“What?”

“What are you-”

“Seriously, what?”

‘He’s not talking to me,” he realized, frowning at his phone in confusion. Geno’s voice was oddly muffled, like he was far away or as if there was something between him and the speaker. Straining his ears, Reaper’s frown grew when he found that he couldn’t quite hear another person. Was there even another person? Geno never mentioned friends but Reaper wasn’t sure if he was the type to talk to himself.

Either way, it was clear Geno didn’t mean to call him. He should hang up.

He didn’t.

“Does it matter?” Geno asked, the question followed by a long silence.

And then...

“Reaper isn’t my sugar daddy!”

Sockets widening, Reaper nearly choked on the air he didn’t even need to breathe, magic sparking an explosion of cyan across his face. Sugar daddy?!

Well, he did buy Geno quite a few things recently….

Expressing shifting from shock to consideration, he continued listening in. Aw, Geno sounded so cute when he was sputtering in embarrassment.

“Reaper is just a friend!”

Oh.

“That doesn’t mean I’m in love with him!” Oh... “Or s-sleeping with him!”

...Oh?

“Reaper isn’t like that!” Like what? “He…” He what? Wasn’t boyfriend material? “Reaper had a pretty good opportunity to sleep with me if he wanted to.” The heat? “I wouldn’t have said no.” 

His phone crashed to the floor.

Cyan deepened, he stared at his probably shattered cell phone in shock. Geno would have…? If he...if he...he...?

He was missing the call!

Dropping to his knees, Reaper scrambled to pick up his cell—yup, the screen was definitely cracked—and hurried to press it to the side of his skull, his overjoyed smile hidden by his fist as he forced down the squeal that wanted to break free.

Geno would have slept with him!

His excitement dimmed a bit though.

Geno would have slept with him, but…

But he didn’t like him.

Error frowned, “Explain.”

“...I get... clingy. During my preheat, I mean.” Geno murmured, a little hesitant to share such personal, embarrassing information. “I just...I told you he got me a phone, right? We’ve been texting—”

“Flirting.”

“—texting! We’ve been texting for a while and I...I needed him. No, that’s not true.” Looking away shyly, he lowered his voice as he whispered his admission, “I wanted him. Not for sex, but just...I just wanted him nearby. And he...came.”

“Gross.”

Shooting Error a glare, Geno scowled, “He came and he didn’t leave when my body began being stupid and embarrassing. Instead, he stayed the entire time. I mean,” he recalled waking up back in Reaper’s arms with food, blankets, and clothes all around them, “he left to get me things to help—”

“Death bought you sex toys?”

“Will you shut up and listen?!” He snapped, red faced at Error’s interruption. Truthfully, Reaper had asked, though neither could look the other in the eye during that entire conversation. “Look, the point is that Reaper could have gotten me to have sex with him during my heat if he wanted but he...he didn’t. I don’t know why he keeps bringing me things, but it isn’t because he wants sex, okay? He would have just taken the easy route if that was the case but he didn’t. Because Reaper isn’t that kind of person. He’s, ” ducking his head, Geno smiled, “he’s nice, actually. A little annoying, but nice. And funny.”

“...Maybe you’re not having sex,” Error began, “but you’re definitely in love with him.”

“I’m not!” Geno denied, voice high as his blush grew darker. “I don’t love him! I said he’s just a friend, didn’t I?”

“Because you don’t want to date him or because you haven’t told him your feelings?”

“...There’s no feelings to tell.”

The destroyer growled, “Bull. Fucking. Shit. You just defended him against me even though the bastard isn’t even here and followed that defense up with compliments. Nice? Funny? Try saying that without that stupid fucking smile and blush.”

Error wasn’t going to let this go, was he? “...It’s not love.” he murmured, “I...it feels too soon for that, so, no okay? It’s not love.”

“Then what is it?”

Stars, he can’t believe he was saying this. “A crush.” Well, no. Not quite that anymore. “Kind of. I...don’t love him but I...I like him. I like him enough where I probably could love him one day.”

      Not that Geno wanted his feelings to grow. He was still pissed he had a crush in the first place. Loving Reaper….

Well, he didn’t have the best track record in keeping loved ones around.

“...That’s so fucking sweet you actually ruined my craving for chocolate.”

“Can we please talk about something else?” Geno begged, unable to meet Error’s eyes. “I don’t want to talk about my feelings for Reaper anymore, okay? It’s embarrassing.”

“Just looking at you right now is embarrassing me.” Ignoring the smaller’s scowl, Error nodded his head to one of the bags of snacks Geno had. “Make me popcorn. I’ll open up a window and we can watch something amusing.”

“Let me guess: Undernovela?”

Error’s smirk was answer enough.

Why was Geno friends with him?

“Death,” Undyne called out, stepping around the pillar he was slumped against. “You have been—are...are you blushing?!”

Face a deepened shade of blue, Reaper shook his head dazedly. “No…” he whispered, staring at his phone dreamily. “You’re just seeing things.”

“Sans-” Deciding it wasn’t worth pursuing, Undyne sighed and crossed her arms with a slight frown. “You’ve been summoned to the King’s private office for a discussion, Death The Elder. You are expected to show within the next ten minutes.”

Sighing, he glanced at the goddess. “I assume you’re here to both inform me of this and escort me?”

“Correct.”

“Very well,” he murmured, ending the call on his phone and sliding back where it belongs. “Lead the way, War.”

The moment Undyne’s back turned, he smiled brightly, giddiness warming his often dark and dreary eyes. 

Geno had a crush on him! On him! Him!

Smile growing, he followed Undyne happily, eager to get this one on one with Asgore over with so that he could hop on over to the save screen as soon as possible.

He had a returned crush to see!

Chapter Text

As a child, Reaper used to be afraid of Asgore.

It seemed rather silly, didn’t it? The one feared by so many was once afraid of a kindly king with a gentle smile and fuzzy bottom? He was Death! Literal Death! What did he have to fear from Asgore?

Well, sometimes an adult’s disapproval was simply a child’s worst nightmare. 

So many scorned him for what he was but Asgore only ever lamented his youthful mischief instead of his very existence like most in their realm. Reaper didn’t consider him a father figure like he knew some believed he did, but he looked up to the king as a little godling and just the very idea of earning his disappointment or ire terrified him. Asgore was nice to him. He didn’t want to ruin that and gain the king’s hate.

Millennia later, Reaper found that he was definitely over that childhood fear.

“What,” he hissed, “did you say?”

“Sans…” Dragging his hand down his face tiredly, Asgore sighed, “I understand your displeasure but please, old friend, do not make this any more difficult.”

It could have been a trick of the light, but Undyne, standing guard at the door, swore she saw the area around the reaper dim for a few seconds. “Displeasure? I am far passed being displeased, k i n g. I was displeased upon learning that yet another farce of a meeting was to be held today with barely a few hours notice beforehand. I was displeased at having to drag my fine clothing out of my closet for it. I was displeased when you kept sending me pointed looks for not mingling with the very deities who annually petition for my removal from these damn events. Now, however? After being threatened with the restriction of my traveling? Now, I am down right p i s s e d, Asgore!”

Straightening, the king shot him a stern glare, a hint of warning in his eyes. “You cannot go without punishment, Death The Elder. Twice I have asked you about your whereabouts during your absence from your duties and twice you refused me an answer.”

“My business is my own!” Reaper snapped, sockets narrowed in anger. 

Asgore stood from his seat, growling, “I am your king, Death! You have your rights but when I demand an answer you are expected to give me that answer! I will ask you once more and if your foolish stubbornness still remains, then you will have your rights to travel restricted until I deem you worthy of the responsibility; so choose wisely, Death The Elder, and tell me: where do you go when you choose to abandon your work?”

Relationships with mortals were forbidden.

To love a glitch—an abomination—was undoubtedly a worse offense.

“Death…” Asgore warned.

“You know,” Undyne, sensitive to the cold, shuddered at the sudden drop in temperature within the room, “it is possible to cause death, Asgore. You can order a man to be h a n g e d, a woman to be b u r n e d , or even hundreds of both to be s l a u g h t e r e d along with their children. All of that can be commanded—death can be commanded—but I, D e a t h, cannot and will not be c o n t r o l e d. Restrict me if you dare, k i n g, but know that my mood shall sour and more of the work you desire me to do will go left undone in my anger and offense.”

Enraged, Asgore slammed his fist down, his anger and strength so great that a long line split the wooden desk that stood between the king and the god as a barrier. “Will you truly not cease this foolishness?! You know the risks of souls left to fester, Death, yet now you threaten that you will continue to remain absent from your work? This is unacceptable! Your brother cannot gather every soul you refuse to take in your stubbornness on time!”

He knew that. “My brother and I together cannot reap every soul that calls to us on time, oh great k i n g. And yet you ignore this whenever I inform you of that truth! Our work is unending! Every second, every day more is made! You so often punish me for the absences I take and yet when I promise to halt those in return for hours of rest for my brother and I, you deny me!”

“Do not turn this so that the fault of your poor habits is on me!” Asgore growled.

The lights above Reaper’s head failed to illuminate the space around him. “My actions are my own, k i n g, but do you, too, not carry the blame when you refuse me that of which would break me of my habits? How many more times will you summon me so that we may perform this song and dance? How many more hours will we waste throughout the years simply because you remain stubborn?”

“Enough,” Asgore demanded, “I called you here simply for an answer you refused to give, not for an argument I have put to rest time and time again.”

“Pretend all you want that the two are unrelated, k i n g. That your ire at my secret is not truly directed at the work I avoid to maintain it. Work that would not be avoided should you give me the time off I request.”

“I said enough, Death! Undyne,” the king snapped, “escort Death to the residence of the god of travel. Inform them that they are to restrict Death The Elder’s ability to travel through the worlds. He is only to be allowed where his work calls him until I deem his punishment complete.”

It was a minuscule reaction, but the darkness of Reaper’s gaze brightened ever so slightly. ‘Only where my work calls me?’

Briefly, he wondered if Asgore knew that his work called him everywhere and that this restriction was no restriction at all. After a few seconds of questioning that, he decided it was an inquiry best kept to himself.

Besides… Reaper thought of the constant cry that lingered in the back of his head, drowned out by his familiarity with the silent voice. 

Find me!

Find me! 

Find me!

Withholding laughter and a smile, he turned his back to Asgore without so much of a nod of respect and made his way to his brother’s long suffering friend. “Lead the way, goddess.”

They were not friends, but Undyne saw him often enough to recognize that there was something not quite right in his voice. Not anger, he could tell she knew, but something that made his cold tone sound odd.

Heh, it seems as if she couldn’t pinpoint his glee.

“...Come, Death the Elder.” She instructed, bowing to Asgore respectfully before leading him from the room. The moment they left the castle, a glare snapped in his direction. “Really, Sans? You couldn’t have just told him what he wanted to know?”

“Like I said,” he wondered if Geno’s company was still over. And also who they were, “my business is my own. Asgore doesn’t even truly care where I go, Undyne. He’s just annoyed I took a week off.”

Grumbling, the goddess crossed her arms and continued leading him away. “More than a week, punk. Paps has been picking up your slack for months because you keep ditching your duties for hours every day.”

“Really?” Reaper sighed, “I told him he doesn’t need to do that every time. Once every now and then is helpful but my workload on top of his is too much for him.”

“Which is why you should stop ditching.”

“Again, Undyne, like I said: I would stop ditching if Assgore—“

“Sans…” Undyne growled in warning, eye narrowed at the insult directed at her king.

Rolling his sockets—not that she could tell—he waved his hand. “Fine, whatever. If Asgore would give us time off, then I’d stop slacking so much. Paps and I are swamped with work no matter what we do, Undyne. A few hours off every day won’t change that but it would let us relax for more than a few seconds at a time.”

“And it’d give you more time with your crush.” Eye widening, Undyne slapped a hand over her mouth. Quietly, she mumbled a muffled, “Fuck.”

Reaper’s elation from Geno’s earlier unknowing reveal was long gone. Still, his mood grew darken further. “...Knowledge told you.”

Undyne, not one to cower, crossed her arms and glared at him. “Don’t even think about fucking with her, Death.”

“She knew I didn’t want this news going around, War.”

“And it isn’t.” Glare unwavering in the face of his displeasure, the blue skinned goddess scowled. “She talks in her sleep, asshole. The only reason I know is because she was giggling about gloomy gods and their crushes. It’s not hard to put two and two together when you asked me for dating advice not too long ago.”

Embarrassment soothe his anger. “...Oh.”

“Yeah,” Undyne snorted, “oh. I think it’s super weird that you of all people like someone, but I’m not going to go around telling people your business.”

“Even Paps?” He tested.

At that, a bit of uncertainty filled her gaze. Still, she nodded. “I love your brother, but he’s terrible with secrets. I won’t tell him...but I will keep judging you until you do.”

That was fair.

Shrugging, he slid his hand into his pocket where his shattered phone was being kept at the moment. If Undyne already knew…

Pulling it out, he checked for any new messages. 

None.

“...Are...are you pouting at your phone?” Undyne asked, disbelief clear in her tone.

Pouting at the lack of notifications, he pulled up Geno’s contact and began spamming him with pleas for attention. “No.”

“Oh gods,” the poor goddess seemed to be having a slight breakdown, “you are! This is so much weirder than I first thought.”

“Just keep leading me to Travel, goddess. I’ll be out of your hair the moment they’re done restricting my travels.”

“...You don’t seem as angry about that as you were with Asgore.”

“Mmm?” Still no replies. “Oh, no, I’m very angry. He’s only letting me go where my work takes me, after all.”

“Which is where, exactly?”

“There’s quite a few places where souls await me, Undyne. Far too many to name.”

“Tra la la,” an eerie voice sang, “and from where a certain soul calls is where Death wishes to be.”

Find me!

Find me!

Find me!

‘I did,’ he thought fondly, greeting the god of travel with a nod.

His phone vibrated in his hand, the name glowing on the cracked screen making him smile.

‘I found you, Geno, and this petty punishment isn’t going to be enough to keep me away.

Smiling at the new contact in his phone, Geno shot off a quick reminder to Error to bring his brother the next time he decided to visit. He missed the colorful skeleton, even if Fresh was unnerving at times.

Fuck you, was all the reply said and he snorted. Typical Error. 

Deciding to leave things at that, he rolled onto his side with a yawn, feeling a little tired after the unexpected visit. Out of habit, he swiped through his phone until a familiar collection of messages were on the screen, the long string of bubbles containing only his name making him chuckle. Reaper had yet to respond to his single reply, so he must have been busy, at least for the moment. 

Yawning, he sent another message to join his first.

Deadly Bastard.

Are you coming over today?

I’m going to nap. If you decide to show, then just wake me when you get here.

He was fast asleep long before Reaper finally replied.

Deadly Bastard 

On my way, sleeping beauty <3

I’ll be sure to wake you with a kiss.

He didn’t. 

But, later, in the privacy of his own mind, Geno flustered over the fact that he wouldn’t have minded if Reaper did.

Chapter Text

Sleepovers in the Skeleton Brothers household were never a rare occurrence.

Papyrus, as a child, struggled when it came to making friends who wouldn’t let his loud exuberance tire them out or scare them away. As much as he loved him, Geno knew that his baby brother was a lot to handle all at once and didn’t blame anyone for not being able to keep up with the generic little guy. Much. 

Okay, he held it against them for a long, long time. How could they not want to hang out with Paps? His brother was the coolest guy in the entire damn underground! Screw anyone who thought otherwise. 

...And Asgore help the fool that boldly state their disagreement to Geno’s belief. His brother was awesome, plain and simple. Anything less was slander. 

Still, no one else really saw just how great Papyrus was. He knew why—Paps really could be a handful—but he just didn’t get it. Not entirely, anyways. 

Concerned that Papyrus’ lack of friends would one day damage his bright personality and near constant cheery mood, Geno did what he could to keep his brother’s confidence up and tried his best to always be around when Paps wanted to play a game, make a puzzle, or cook spaghetti at three in the morning; but playing with your younger brother was difficult when you were trying to juggle work, school and parenting all on top of your brotherly duties. He still did a pretty good job of handling everything, but there were times where a movie marathon or what was meant to be an all-nighter with Papyrus saw Geno falling asleep mere minutes into the event. Papyrus tried not be disappointed when it happened—he was such a good kid—but Geno always knew he was.

And then, like a loud, disastrous blessing in disguise (and in armor), Undyne the Undying entered their lives and swept Papyrus off his feet and into a wild friendship.

Undyne was closer to age to Geno than she had been to Paps, but the two just clicked in a way that made their age gap irrelevant since their personalities mixed so well. Easily excitable, competitive, and surprisingly soft—among various other characteristics—Undyne managed to be a best friend that felt like a sister whereas Geno only ever managed to be a brother that tried to be a friend but never quite managed it. She was good for Paps though, so he was never really jealous about it. Besides, her crush was his best friend, so if he ever was jealous, then he could lord little facts only he knew about Alphys over her head. Not that Geno ever did that, of course. He was a good person.

The thing about Undyne that really mattered was that she didn’t just indulge Paps because she felt bad like others had done before. There was no fake friendship that faded into nothing as time went by. No, she genuinely liked his brother and had a lot of fun spending time with him. When she eventually learned that Papyrus never had a sleepover with anyone but the person he technically always had a sleepover with, she was the one that decided they needed to fix that and she was the one that invited herself over for Papyrus’ first ever sleepover with a friend. The house barely survived, but Paps had been so happy that Geno couldn’t be too angry over the hole in the ground...and wall...and ceiling…

Thank the stars for the salary of the Captain of the Guard because there was no way he could have afforded all those repairs.

After the success of their first sleepover, they became a common occurrence. Sometimes they were held at Undyne’s place or even Alphys’ lab every few instances but, mostly, the sleepovers were hosted by Papyrus and their house. “Sleepover Saturdays” became something to look forward to; a tradition, really, and he got used to them over time. Enjoyed them too, if he were being honest.

It felt like a betrayal to the memory of his brother and friends, but Geno had to admit that he enjoyed his current sleepover more than he ever had the ones his brother and Undyne held. Mostly because…

“Geno~,” Reaper called, his voice slightly distorted by the speaker his voice was coming out of, “did you fall asleep? It’s too dark on your end to tell.”

Blinking, Geno shook his head a bit to shoo away his distracting thoughts and returned his attention to his phone. There, grinning way too closely to the screen, was Reaper. “I’m awake.”

“Geno!” The god cheered, his wide grin somehow finding a way to grow. “Get lost in your skull there, grumpy?”

“I’m not grumpy!”

“Says the one who kicked me this morning.”

“You woke me up.”

“To ask if you wanted breakfast!”

“Good reason or not, you woke me up. You deserved that kick.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Amused, the other skeleton chuckled a bit before glancing away from the phone. Actually, he could have been staring into the camera still—it was hard to tell with his blank eyes—but Geno was pretty sure he was looking elsewhere. Sure enough, the view of Reaper’s face shifted a few seconds later so that Geno was looking out into the aisle of a store. “What snacks do you want?”

Frowning a bit, he went to respond, “Rea-” but the god cut him off.

“And don’t say nothing this time! I’m going to feel bad if I keep eating all your food during our sleepover, Geno.”

“You bought all my food, idiot. You don’t need to feel bad over eating it. Also, you don’t have to buy me more!”

“I don’t have to but I want to~ so tell me what you want or else I’m getting you mayonnaise.”

Geno cringed. Out of all condiments, mayonnaise had to be his least favorite. “...I like cookies and those cheesy crackers.”

Reaper responded with a cheery affirmative and began searching for the requested snacks. Camera surprisingly still, he gave Geno a tour of whatever grocery store he selected and the order to stop him if he saw anything else he liked.

Why did it seem like Reaper was intent on spoiling him? Sure, Reaper denied that it was spoiling but Geno used to be a doting older brother (heh...he used to be…) and he knew damn well what spoiling someone looked like. “I’m just thanking you for letting me say” Geno’s ass.

Then again, that could be a real reason, he supposed.

After some sort of incident with his Asgore two days ago, Reaper had gone straight to the save screen with a request for “an extended sleepover” until he was able to return home. Geno was almost completely positive that whatever happened was mostly Reaper’s fault, but he hadn’t turned the god away despite his suspicions. Lending his so-called home to the god when he apparently had nowhere else to go was just the kind thing to do. It’s what any good friend would do for their friend. 

“YOU’RE IN LOVE WITH DEATH?!”

No, damnit! Error was wrong. He...he liked Reaper. Liked, not loved. There was a big difference! Geno might have an itty bitty, very tiny, very small crush—that kept causing a few distressing dreams—but it was fine. He was handling it just fine. You know what? No, actually. He was handling it well. Beyond well! He was doing great! Yup. Totally.

“Hey, look! They sell tents here! Huh, they look a little small though.” The camera got closer to a small display of tents before a skeletal hand was seen reaching out to the move the flap so that they could peer inside. “Yeah, that’s definitely a tight squeeze. Wouldn’t mind sliding in with you though~ camping would be fun!”

‘Slide into me and I’ll show you a tight sq—what the fuck am I thinking?!’ Clearing his suddenly dry throat, Geno hoped that the warmth in his face wasn’t visible and frowned at his phone. “Where would we even camp? On the single patch of grass in this entire hellhole? Seems kind of pointless.”

“You don’t want an excuse to roast hot dogs and make smores?”

Oh, that… “I haven’t had a hot dog in forever…”

He couldn’t see Reaper’s face, but he could practically hear the smile in his voice. “I’ll add some to the cart. Hmm...should I get a little grill? They’d taste better cooked on that than in the microwave, I think.”

“No. Do not buy a grill. The microwave was already way too much! I don’t even need to eat here.”

“I don’t need to eat ever but I still like doing it. Oh! I should get a coffee maker too so that I don’t have to keep running out for coffee. Maybe I should get a bed too…”

A...a bed?! “You better not buy a fucking bed, Reaper! You’re not staying here forever, damnit!”

“The bed would be for you! It would be comfier than the futon, don’t you think? Plus, it’d be bigger too so we wouldn’t have to keep squishing together so close—actually, yeah. You don’t need a bed.”

The reminder of where Reaper was sleeping while he stayed over worsened the heat in Geno’s face. Geno had sensitive ribs, okay? Sleeping on the cold, hard floor when he had a cushion available was cruel to his broken body! But the sleeping bag Reaper brought in didn’t look any more comfortable than the plain floor. What kind of host would he be to make the god sleep in it? Besides, Paps and Undyne used to share his bed whenever she slept over and they were just friends. Doing the same thing with Reaper was no different than that.

“Oh, a mini fridge!”

“Reaper, no!”

“Reaper, yes! Do you want the blue, red, yellow, pink, bla-”

“Pink.”

“...You want the pink one?”

Embarrassed, he crossed his arms the best he could when he needed to keep his phone in place and nodded. “Yes, asshole. If you’re going to get me one no matter what I say, then I want the pink one.”

Reaper muttered something he couldn’t quite hear. When Geno asked for him to repeat himself, he waved the unheard comment away as something unimportant and set his phone down for a few moments to toss a mini fridge into the cart. “...They have a matching grill~”

“Ugh, fine. ”

Off screen, the god cheered in victory. “I’m going to grab a second cart. It looks like they’re having a sale on household appliances.”

“Damnit, Reaper, no-”

“Talk to you when I’m back, Geno~ Bye!”

“Rea-” Click.

Ugh, that asshole.

…

…

…

He hoped the shopping didn’t take too long. 

When Reaper returns from the store, he finds that Geno has fallen asleep with his face pressed onto the dark screen of his phone. Stumbling across the glitch after he’s fallen asleep a norm for him at this point though, so he merely snaps a picture—don’t give him that look, Geno looks like a little, bloodied angel—and tries his best to remain silent as he starts setting up. If luck is on his side, then Geno will remain asleep until he’s done and Reaper won’t have to explain why he has three carts with him; two regular shopping carts and one a flat platform cart stacked far too high.

He may have gone a little overboard…

...Nah. If anything, he probably could have fit more into one of the carts. Oh well, he could also go back to the store at a later date. For now...

Wincing a little when the packing paper from one of the boxes crinkled loudly, Reaper glanced in Geno’s direction nervously before just tearing everything out of the box. ‘Please don’t wake up, please don’t wake up, please don’t wake up!’

There was no doubt in his mind that the glitch would make him return everything if he woke before Reaper was done setting up. Did he buy quite a bit? Yes. Did he regret it? No, but he knew Geno would give him that stubborn look that was unfairly attractive and tell him that he didn’t need anything Reaper bought. Which, to be fair, was true. Geno didn’t food or the comforts of a home, but why should that be the deciding factor in the things he allowed himself to have? What did it matter what Geno merely needed in this blank void of nothingness when the glitch’s lack of necessity for anything made for a dull half-life? 

Reaper was able to provide for the things Geno wanted. He was able to make the cold, open world around the bloody skeleton into something resembling a home and he...he wanted that. Maybe it was selfish to put his own desires before Geno’s, but Reaper really wanted a house for the glitch. Someplace warm and familiar and comforting. Deep down, he had a feeling that Geno wanted that too. The smaller skeleton was just too prideful and independent and stubborn to let someone else take care of him.

Stars, what an infuriating cute combo.

Glancing at the directions he had spread out over the floor, Reaper narrowed his eyes and looked from the simple line drawing back to the half assembled table he held. ‘...This...doesn’t look right…’ And he had more than one thing to assemble in an unknown amount of time.

“Mm...Re….”

Shit, he had to hur— 

Oh.

Oh no.

Geno, now facing him in his sleep, had rolled onto a spare robe hanging out of the overnight bag Reaper packed before being accidentally exiled from his world. And he was cuddling it. Sure, he probably thought it was a blanket or something but he was cuddling Reaper’s robe!

His fingers twitched towards the phone in his pocket.

He’d hurry after he documented this monumental event. 

A few pictures later and about an hour of whispered cursing later, Reaper finally had everything set up. Wiping his brow despite the lack of sweat glistening on it, he heaved an exhausted sigh and absently opened up a portal to some random world to dump all the boxes and plastic into. He had to return the carts too, didn’t he?

Too tired to do so, he pushed them through the portal too.

“Okay,” he murmured, camera out to record Geno’s reaction, “let’s wake up sleeping beauty.”

Grabbing a pillow, Reaper drifted back a few paces before clicking record and chuckling his soft weapon at the slumbering skeleton.

Bones erupted from the ground and skewered it the moment it bounced off the glitch and landed on the floor. “Reaper…” Geno growled, displeased with being woken yet again by the god. Then, he blinked and slowly sat up, unaware of just what he had curled around his shoulders in place of a blanket. “Oh, Reaper. You’re back from the…”

Trailing off, Geno stared at the set up a few feet away, his socket wide and unblinking.

Reaper grinned. “Surprise!”

Three…

Two…

One!

“R-Reaper!” Geno shouted, eyelight flickering between the god and everything purchased for him. Stunned, he repeated the taller skeleton’s name dumbly, unable to find the words he needed to scold him for his purchases. Good, maybe Geno’s surprise would keep him from arguing that he didn’t— “I don’t need any of this shit, you idiot! Take it back!”

Damnit. 

“Sorry, Geno~ no can do! The store has a policy against returning anything you opened.” They didn’t, but Geno did need to know that. “You’re stuck with all this.”

‘All this’ just so happened to be the pink mini fridge that Reaper informed Geno about...and quite a few other things as well. Balanced on top of the fridge was the microwave he bought Geno previously, moved to be closer to the appliance that would be keeping certain foods cold. Next to that, a coffee table held an assortment of other purchases such as a matching pink electric grill, a flat griddle, and a hot plate with a single pot and pan stacked on top of it. 

Another table pressed up to the first had a basic pack of spatulas, mixing spoons, and glittery knives (he wasn’t sure if Geno had a thing with knives, but he hoped the glitter would help distance himself from any bad memories if he did). Plates, bowls, what looked like a small sink… 

Excitedly, Reaper motioned for Geno to turn his head a little.

...and a compact washing machine and dryer!

When Geno remained silent and stun, he crept closer with his phone recording and asked with a wide yet nervous grin, “Do you like it?”

Geno didn’t respond.

“I, uh, I know you keep telling me you don’t need to eat but I figured that still having a few things around to help you cook would be nice. You’re limited to what you can do with a fridge and whatever ingredients I found that don’t need to be stored somewhere cool, but, hey, there’s still a lot you’re able to make! I think. And, uh, maybe we can eat together sometimes whenever I come around? If we do, then it’s less like me buying these things for you and more like I bought them for myself!”

“...And your excuses for the washer and dryer?” 

“Um,” a little disheartened by the blank voice, his shoulders slumped and he sighed, “I don’t have one. I just thought you might like getting to wash your clothes.”

“I hate doing laundry.”

Ah, so he fucked this up then? Great. “Oh…”

Just when he was about to shut off his camera, disappointed but sure that he wasn’t going to receive anything more than Geno’s surprise and his now bland expression, the smaller skeleton shifted a bit and-

Oh.

“I really don’t need any of this, Reaper.” Geno murmured, head ducked a bit as he fiddled with his ‘blanket’ simply for the sake of having something to do. “It’s...it’s unnecessary, really but…”

Reaper’s heart throbbed in the best of ways.

“...thanks, I guess. For being considerate.” Geno said with a soft, warm, and utterly gorgeous smile. Stars, this wasn’t the first smile he ever received but Reaper didn’t think he would ever get used to them. Geno was...he was...was…

“Beautiful…” he breathed. 

Geno’s face erupted in red. “I...w-what-! You-!” Embarrassed, he attempted to hide his face behind his blanket. The, he realized his blanket was Reaper’s robe and grew more flustered. “I’m not!”

Heh that...that was surprisingly easy. He kind of wanted to try it again.

“Geno,” he murmured, smiling, “you’re absolutely stunning.”

Geno dragged his borrowed cloak up and over his head. “Shut the hell up!”

“Why? I’m just telling the truth~”

“Die!”

“Can’t~”

Reaper couldn’t stop grinning the entire time they bickered.

Chapter Text

Like a moth drawn to a flame, Death goes to his love reborn. 

His dear, sweet Genocide isn’t ready for him, he knows, but he cannot resist the tempation that is the knowledge that his darling now lives; that his beautiful husband awaits him, even if he does so unknowingly.

Eager, he wraps his power around his form to hide himself from view before sliding through the cracks of the multiverse in search of the one world he could not bare to visit until now. The familiar void that greets him brings a smile to his face but it is the small figure curled under a single beam of light that bleeds warmth into the expression. Warmth and longing and love .

Genocide. His sweet Genocide.

Hidden, he slinks closer to his beloved and circles him gleefully; elation filling his cold, dust stained heart because his darling is back! His beautiful, beautiful darling. Overjoyed, he kneels before his lost love returned and presses as close as he dares, sockets greedily devouring the sight of his lover to ease the hunger thousands of years of absence has formed.

“Such beauty.” He murmurs, though his words go unheard. “Such perfection. My memories did you no justice, I’m afraid. No longer could I recall the ivory of your skull or the crimson of your blood, my love. No longer will I envision you incorrectly; however, for you are here.” Although the sound crackles with disuse, he laughs. “You’re here, beloved! You’re here!”

Unaware that he was no longer alone, Geno hides his face in his knees and cries.

“No.” Death whispers. “No! Don’t cry, my love.” he begged, circling his lover again in a panic. “Oh, please don’t cry, darling. I’m here. I’m here. You’re not alone.”

“Papyrus.” Geno sobbed. “I’m sorry. I...I’m sorry!”

“Shhh, shhh.” He attempts to sooth. “Don’t cry, my beautiful Genocide. There’s no need for your tears. Your brother forgives you, sweet. How could he not? You’re perfection.”

But his words fall upon deaf ears and Geno only cries more.

Saddened that he could not help his love, Death sighs. He hates to see his darling suffer but Geno needs the pain. His dear, sweet Genocide needs the lonliness and guilt and anger to stew in to ensure that this darling Geno would be his darling Geno. Death would watch him blossom into the lover he knew, but he could not— would not— interfere until the time came where he could safely steal away his sweet.

Guiltily, he sits across from the smaller skeleton and watches as he continues to express his pain through echoing wails and a crimson stream of tears. When Geno’s grief fades into exhaustion and he curls up on his bit of greenery to sniffle and sleep, the god waits until his fitful rest begins before creeping closer to dry his darling’s tears with his sleeve.

“There, there, my everything. Soon this pain will fade.” He comforts, drying the wetness dampening Geno’s skull before hesitantly resting his palm against his cheek. When the smaller whimpers and pushes himself further into the touch, he smiles widely. “I forgot how warm you were…”

Geno has no blankets. No comforts at all, really. It isn’t right that he has to rest in the cold darkness of the save screen, all alone (or so Geno thinks). Clicking his tongue in disapproval, he carefully lifts the small form of his lover and places him onto his lap. There, he thinks with an affectionate grin as he gently adjusts Geno in his arms. Seeking the warmth of another body, the smaller shifts in his sleep and curls into his body with a quiet whine. Stars, he was—is—so endearing.

“I long for the day you learn you’re mine.” He murmurs, gently pressing a kiss to his lover’s cranium. “This time, let’s have a winter wedding, dear.”

Unaware, Geno sleeps on.

Months passed before the time was right for Death to show himself. Geno was losing hope, he knew. The smaller slept more, cried more, and could barely bring himself to watch the genocides anymore. His soul was so loud now, too, and its cries came constantly.

It was time.

Finally, it was time.

There was just one thing keeping him from his love.

So, so carefully, as though the slightest pressure would crumble it, he unravels his darling’s scarf from his neck. Smile bittersweet, he carresses the once vibrant fabric and openes his inventory to remove his beautiful Genocide from his millenia-long home. Not a single speck of his everything was dropped as he gently placed the bundle of clothing and dust onto the scarf where he proceeded to neatly fold everything together. When he was done, he pressed a loving kiss to the pile…

...and threw it into the roaring flames he stood before.

“Goodbye, my sweet Genocide.” Death murmurs with teary sockets and a shaking smile. “I’ll see you soon, darling.”

Very, very soon.

As a courtesy to his lover, he stayed until the flames died into fainty glowing embers and nothing of his Genocide’s pervious self remained. Guilt settled as a heavy weight on his shoulders but he shook it off with a frown. There was no reason to be guilty, he tells himself. Geno is back. Clinging to the remains of his darling would only unnerve his darling reborn and that was the last thing he wanted. Sparing the smoldering pile of ash one last, gentle look, he turned his back to the mess and took only a single step before he disappears.

Geno is waiting for him.

It...it was back again.

The feeling.

Shoulders hunching defensively, Geno nervously curls his fingers in his scarf and discreetly glances around the darkness of the save screen. He is being watched again. He...he swears he is being watched, at least, but there doesn’t seem to be anyone else around whenever he looks. 

No one was ever around though, so what was he expecting?

But…what...what if he was wrong, this time….?

Biting his tongue worriedly and shrinking back from the stare he was positive he felt, he looked around again. Just...just to be sure…

“H-hello…?” he calls out hesitantly. It’s pointless though. No one ever responds. And course no one has and of course no one will! No one ever responds because no one is ther— 

“Hello.”

—there.

Someone was there.

Someone was here . With him.

It should have relieved him.

Instead, it unnerved him.

For months now, he swore he was being watched. Was this the culprit? Or a coincidence? He doesn’t know. He’s afraid to find out.

Slowly, nervously, he turns around.

It…it’s another skeleton? Taller than him, he notices with a faint twinge of irritation. Taller than him by at least a head, but with a face similar enough to his own that looking at him feels uncanny. And...a-and…?

 Despite the nerves churning his stomach unpleasantly, he frowns; confused. Frightened, too.

There...there is something…

...familiar…?   

“W-who…?” He stutters, eyes wide as he slowly stumbles back. Geno doesn’t like this feeling. This...this odd yearning and the chill running down his spine from the intense look being sent his way. “Who a-are you?”

There is something sad in those eyes. The taller skeleton’s sockets are blank and black but, somehow, Geno knows that shadowy gaze is sad. “I’ll tell you,” The stranger says, “but only if you promise not to react poorly.”

“Tell me.” Geno demands with a voice sturdier than he feels. React poorly? Why would someone’s name make him react poorly? Who was this guy?! “Are...are you the one that’s b-been watching me?”

“...You knew?” The other, taller skeleton questions quietly, confirming his theory. Why him? Why has this strange been watching him? “I...I thought you were unaware of my presence.”

“You’ve been watching me for months.” He hisses, scrambling to put more distance between them when the stranger steps forward. He’s terrified of them drawing near. He’s even more afraid that a small part of him wants Geno to move closer. “I...I thought I was going insane. I could feel you staring b-but...but I couldn’t see you. I thought I lost it.” His laugh is hysterical, he knows. He just doesn’t care. All those months that felt like years creeping spent enduring the piercing stare he couldn’t see but always felt. Months of calling out into the nothingness, begging for a reply only to start dreading one when the stare never let up but the silence continued to stretch. Months of telling him he was alone and months of being frightened because he knew he wasn’t but he was, he was, he was because no one was there! “I thought I fucking lost my mind!”

“Geno…”

“How do you know my name?” He demands. “I...I haven’t said it. Even if you were...were w-watching me, I haven’t said my name. How do you know it? A-and who the fuck are you?!” Who the hell is his tormentor?

“...Reaper.” The taller skeleton—Reaper, apparently—says. “You...You can call me Reaper. Geno,” he steps forward again. “I...I didn’t wish to alarm you. Had I known you were aware I was there…”

He was getting too close. The other skeleton—Reaper—was getting too close. “L-leave! I...I don’t know what you want with me but just...just make this easier on the both of us and leave. Now!”

“Geno…”

“Stop saying my name!” It makes him feel weird. Uncomfortable because he didn’t give it and...and…

...warm?

That...that isn’t right. It can’t be right. He shouldn’t hate the way his name sounds rolling off the other’s tongue and like it too. That’s just...he doesn’t…? He doesn’t understand what’s going on. He doesn’t like that he doesn’t understand and he just wants this person to— 

“Leave.” He repeats in a low, threatening hiss that wavers.

For a long moment, Reaper stares at him; silent and so, so sad. When he speaks, his voice is soft with regret but dark with an unnerving promise. A threat. “I’ll go, beloved...” Why does he keep calling Geno tha— 

A blink.

A single, quick blink and the skeleton is suddenly a hair’s breadth away.

“...but I’m not leaving alone, love.”

There’s a sharp pain on the back of his skull.

…

…

...

Then darkness.

Chapter Text

He knows that he’s embarrassing Geno, but Reaper just can’t help but stare in wide eyed, stunned silence, because, um, what did he just say? Seriously, what?!

“I’m sorry,” he must have heard that wrong, “but did you say you’ve never had an actual hot dog before?! Geno! That’s practically a crime for a Sans! My favorite food isn’t even associated with them and yet I still take the time to have one every now and then. It’s, like, a thing, Geno! It’s a thing!”

When Geno’s shoulders hunch defensively and he angles his head away from Reaper’s stare, the god realizes that he isn’t just embarrassing Geno, he’s humiliating him. Shit, that...that wasn’t his intention.

Before he can apologize, Geno starts speaking. “Well, excuse me, asshole.” He grumbles, still turned away. “It’s not like there were any available.”

“But,” and this is what confused him in the first place, “earlier you said, and I quote, ‘I haven’t had a hot dog in forever’. That kind of implies that you have had one before, Geno.”

“...Not a real one.” Geno confesses, eyes on the thin metal rod in his hands as he twirls it around distractedly. They’re meant for roasting marshmallows, Reaper informed him when Geno accepted it with a look of confusion. He thought that maybe Geno was just used to using sticks or something but, now, the god’s starting to think that assumption was wrong. “Meat comes from animals, right? We...didn’t really have any of those in the Underground, Reaper. Most of our foods were plant based, like the ‘hot dogs’ I used to sell. They were really just water sausages.”

“What about the burgers you told me about? The really greasy ones from Grillby’s?” Struggling a little with the small, portable grill he purchased, Reaper narrows his eyes in concentration and finally, finally manages to not snap a little wooden match in half while attempting to light a fire in it. “Were those water sausages too?”

“Uh, I, um, I don’t actually know what those were made of. I know they definitely weren’t meat, but Grillbz learned a lot of things above ground before the war. Whatever flavors he remembers he managed to recreate to the best of his abilities. Apparently, he did a good job. Well, according to what few monsters remained from his era, that is. I’m not one of them, so I can’t really say for sure whether or not his burgers taste like the real thing.”

“You were born Underground?”

Born? Made? What was the difference, really? “Yeah.”

Looking up from the decent fire he had going, Reaper narrowed his eyes at Geno, expression one of consideration. It was hard to tell with their kind, especially since Geno was so short, but… “How old are you?”

Geno frowned. “What does that matter?”

“Humor me? I’m curious.”

Frown deepening, the smaller skeleton turned his gaze to the bright flames with a thoughtful expression. “Paps was, um, he was…” Eye hazing slightly as he lost himself to his memories, Geno murmured, “Papyrus never reached his twenty first birthday, right? Yeah, right...so, I would have been…”

“Geno?” Reaper called out softly, trying to coax the smaller skeleton out of whatever moment in his past he was reliving. This wasn’t the first time something like this happened. Drifting closer, he took a seat at Geno’s side and brushed their shoulders together just lightly enough to tell the glitch he was there without startling him. “Hey, it’s okay, Geno. I was just a little curious. There’s no need to answer.”

“...Twenty eight.” Geno mumbled, gaze still distant, “I was twenty eight before ending up here. I, uh, I don’t...it’s hard to tell time, so...I’m twenty eight plus however many years I’ve spent in the save screen. I...I don’t think I’m close to forty? But I could be? Um, I...sorry, twenty eight at the least is as specific as I can get.”

Stars, Reaper has a crush on an infant.

“And in all those years,” which were a mere fraction of the ones Reaper himself lived, “you’ve never had a real hot dog?” Oh, but that would make sense if… “Geno, have you ever been to the surface?”

Nearly bending the metal in his hand when his hand instinctively curls into a tightly clenched first, Geno shook his head and uttered a small, upset, “No.”

Oh.

Oh.

That was...that was sadder than Reaper expected it to be. “You…” it felt insensitive, like he was rubbing the fact in Geno’s face, but he didn’t want to shy away from conversation every time they touched upon something Geno was sensitive to. Avoiding every bad topic didn’t seem helpful in the long run. “You’ve been missing out on a lot, huh?”

Geno snorted; bitter yet a little amused at the obvious statement. “Yeah, you could say that. I…” Embarrassed, he shifted away, just close enough to the fire that the flames highlighted his pink cheeks. “Some things you mention, like...like those big, flashy festivals or rides that take you way up high just to drop you down for fun? Things like...like mountains that erupt or even just the cities you’ve seen…”

“Geno…”

The smaller skeleton kept speaking. “The tallest building I’ve ever been in was the castle and, even then, it only went so high, but you talk about buildings with more than a hundred floors and cities with more people than the Underground could ever hope to have and I just...I can’t even imagine it, Reaper. Half the things you talk about just don’t seem real. At first, I thought you were lying about some things,” he admits, “but you talk about them so casually that it’s just...they’re real. There’s no way they can’t be with the way you mention them like they’re nothing special. All those things are actually real and I...I can’t even begin to imagine what they’re like.”

As the silence around them grows once Geno’s words end, Reaper can’t help feeling like the multiverse’s biggest asshole. “Geno—”

“Don’t apologize.” The shorter skeleton demands. “I...it’s not something you need to feel bad for.”

But he does. Every time he complained to Geno either in person or through the phone about something as mundane as the sunlight waking him up too early or a line at a Starbucks being too long comes to mind and leaves him feeling guilty. And the big deal he made over Geno never trying a real hot dog…

Hot dogs, huh?

Slowly, he looked at the cheap pack of hot dogs he bought during his trip to the store earlier that day. They were nothing special, really. Just the first pack he saw. Frowning, he glanced over everything else they had set out for their pseudo-campfire dinner. 

“...Don’t eat any of this.” He ordered, throwing the lid on the grill to contain the flames before pushing himself up. “I’m going to run out again. I don’t know how long I’ll be, but please don’t eat anything while I’m gone. Okay, Geno? I’ll try to make it quick.”

The glitch frowned, quickly standing from his place to the floor and following after Reaper as he drifted back to the carts he never returned. “You’re going out again? Reaper, what could you possibly need now? You bought half the store!”

“Just, promise me? Promise me, Geno.” he murmured, twirling to face the smaller skeleton and unthinkingly leaning down so that he could see the glitch better in the darkness. “Not the hot dogs or the ketchup or even the marshmallows… Don’t eat or drink a single thing while I’m gone. Please?”     

 “I… O-okay. Okay, Reaper.” Geno agrees, adorably pink in a way that makes Reaper want to grin because he’s the cause of that. He has Geno flustered!

He wonders just how brightly Geno’s blush can glow....

“I’ll be back.” he promises, pushing the temptation of figuring out the answer for himself to the back of his mind. For now. “Miss you already, Geno.”

He’s gone too quickly to hear Geno’s flustered “Idiot,” but he manages to catch a hint of the smile that forms with the word.

When it becomes apparent that Reaper isn’t going to start up another video call or bother with messaging him during whatever trip he’s making, Geno gives up on trying to entertain himself with his phone and instead turns his attention to the still covered grill. Is it okay to leave the fire burning inside? There isn’t really anything around to catch fire if the flames get out of hand, but he isn’t sure.

Curiously, he lifts the lid with a bit of magic.

It slams back down when the fire jumps to a drastic height.

“Okay, so, definitely not messing with that.” Can skeletons be burned alive in a fire? Who knows, but Geno doesn’t plan to be the one to find out. “...I’m really bored.”

It’s a little sad—Reaper has been gone for a little less than ten minutes—but it’s the truth. With the ongoing conversation they had suddenly halted by the god’s absence, Geno is bored. He has a book or two he could try reading, but he isn’t in the mood. Maybe a nap? Oh, but he napped during Reaper’s first trip to the store and laziness alone isn’t enough to make the idea of trying for another one appealing. He could snack… 

“Promise me, Geno,” Reaper murmurs, face so close to his own that their grins nearly touch. All Geno needs to do is lean up a bit and…

“Stop, stop, stop, you idiot.” Pressing his hands into his face, he sinks back down to the floor and laments ever having met the god who keeps haunting his every thought. Awake, asleep, it doesn’t matter. All he can think about is Reaper, Reaper, Reaper and it’s driving him insane. “Stupid, handsome asshole. I hate your funny jokes and adorable laugh and your stupid, sexy smirk. Stars, just funk off—” Freezing, he tries that again. “Just funk— funk-! FUNK!”

“C’mon, broski, ain’t there a better way ta greet your pal?”   

Geno isn’t doing anything wrong. He knows that. Sitting on the floor and talking to yourself is a little strange, yeah, but it’s not wrong. 

So, if that’s the case, then why does he feel like a kid being caught with their hand in the cookie jar?

“Fresh.” He greets, slowly lifting his head to meet the gaze hidden behind sunglasses. ‘SUP-BRO’ he reads, so he nods and adds a “Hello” behind his friend’s name. “What are you doing here? You usually drop in with Error. Literally.”

The subtle call back to their first meeting has the colorful skeleton’s already wide grin stretching wider. Clad in multicolored, near blinding neon, Fresh looks the furthest away from the concept of intimidating as a person can get, but there’s always something in his smiles that make the should-be pleasant expression a little unnerving. 

Used to it, Geno merely raises a questioning brow, silently asking, ‘Well…?’

“Got da 411 dat Error-bruh came ‘round without me. Wasn’t cool of him ta hog all da bro time, so I decided ta stop by so we could hang. One on one, ya know? Bruh and bro. Broski and-”

“I get it.” Geno cuts in flatly, though his amusement is given away by the way one corner of his grin keeps twitching upwards. “Now isn’t really the best time if you wanted one on one bonding though, Fresh.”

“Yeah, I can see dat.” 

With the text on his glasses back to the usual ‘YOLO’ and his wide grin frozen in place, Fresh is a little hard to read. Rocking on his heels with his hands shoved into his pockets, the tall, colorful skeleton pretends to not see Geno’s curious expression as he inspects the little area they’re in. When Geno’s expression shifts from curiosity to annoyance as the silent look around drags on, he whistles sharply; loud and impressed as his glasses flicker to ‘WHOA’. 

“Looks like E-bro gets ta keep his pants ‘cause they ain’t catchin’ fire today. You really are hookin’ up with Death, ain’t chat? Kinda thought he wuz lyin’ and all ‘cause ya didn’t really seem ta be da sugar baby type.”

It takes a few seconds to translate through the absurd way Fresh speaks but, once he does, Geno flushes a bright, angry red. “I am going to kill Error. Reaper and I are not hooking up, dab it,” he chooses to ignore the censor, “nor is he my sugar daddy! We’re just friends!”

“I dunno,” leaning down with an outstretched hand, Fresh caught a bit of the black fabric still draped around Geno’s shoulders in a pinch and lifted it so that the glitch couldn’t pretend to be blind to the oversized robe. As Geno’s angry blush deepened, Fresh chuckled, “we’re jus’ friends, yeah? But ya dun really go ‘round wearin’ my stuff, broski.”

“It’s a snuggie!” Geno has no idea what a snuggie actually is, but Reaper used in an argument as to why it was perfectly fine for him to keep using his robe as a blanket. Hopefully, the damn actually looks like one. 

Judging by the disbelieving ‘SUU-URE’ scrawled across the taller skeleton’s lenses, his lie wasn’t believed. “I ain’t judgin’ ya or nuthin’, bro. S’cute, actually. Ya got yourself a boytoy! One dat seems ta make ya happy, too. I’m happier than a happy meal for ya, G. Ya deserve it.”  

What the actual fuck was a happy meal? “Seriously, Fresh, we’re just friends. Reaper isn’t my sugar daddy or boytoy or whatever else you and Error seem to think he is. He’s just…” shoulders slumping, he sighed; dejected,  “...he’s just a friend.”

“Where is he?”

Blinking, Geno raised his gaze back to Fresh’s eyes, though the unusually blank sunglasses made him startle a bit. “Uh, I...I don’t know. He told me not to eat anything though, so I think he went to get food?”

“And what were ya doin’ before dat?”

“Um, we were going to have a campfire? Roasted hot dogs and smores? Reaper has a space documentary, so we were planning to watch that afterwards.”

‘BOI-PLS’ Geno read, the words leaving him confused. Before he could ask about them, Fresh motioned to everything around them. “Dun see a tv, bruh.”

“It’s on his phone…?”

The same two words flashed at him almost angrily as Fresh groaned, “G, bro, you’re killin’ me here. You’re tellin’ me dat he went ta get you two some fancy grub—”

“It’s not going to be fancy! ...I think.”

“—and den you’re gonna watch da night sky, which ya love, on his phone? Together? Even tho you’re gonna have to get inta sinful cuddlin’ territory jus ta both see?”

“S-sinful cuddling?!” He sputtered.

Fresh continued speaking without addressing his question. “You’re wearin’ his robe, too. Bruh, dis ain’t just two homies hangin’ out. Ya wanna know what dis really is?”

“What?” If he called this a hook up, then Geno was going to— 

“Bruh, dis is a date.”

—faint.

Gen <3

Hey, Reaper! 

Just lettin ya know Imma take a nap

Wake me when ur back

<3

Staring at the messages with a bemused expression, Reaper chuckled and sent off a simple reply before making himself comfortable against the counter he was leaning on.

“Hey,” he called out, smiling at the cute little heart added to Geno’s messages, “you can take your time now, buddy. I’m not in a rush anymore.”

Looking up from the fries he was prepping, the Grillby of the world he was in nodded and sent a thumbs up his way.

Gen <3

Okay, sleeping beauty.

See you then <3

Hopefully, Geno would like the burgers.

Chapter Text

‘It’ started the moment his father realized that he was smart.

No, not just smart. Smart. Same word, yes, but with a difference behind the emphasis that matters, like how father and father are so different despite being the same.

See, starting from a young age, he was smart; a genius, most said. A lot said, actually. It was a word meant to praise, but all it succeeded in doing was condemn him, in the end. Smart? Easily overlooked. Smart as in genius, though? That meant potential.

That meant expectations. 

Don’t be average, be more. Excel. Learn to speak early, walk early, control your magic before you can control your bowels, fight, read, learn to count, learn more, do more, be more… and do it all with the smile you were born with. Made with, technically, but shhh, okay? That’s a secret.

There were many secrets he was told to keep, actually. Most, he covered with lies; a lesson unintentionally taught, but taught well. “ No, I don’t want to play with the other kids. Yes, I would like to help dad with his work instead. Yes, I love helping dad .”

“Yes, I’m happy.”