Work Text:
Papyrus, the skeleton, was an avid reader. It was what he did, he consumed books instead of sleeping, and in the time spent refining puzzles and encouraging Sans to work hard, he would idly dream of being an author. But of what genre? He did not much like science fiction, they were about vast, endless skies with no restraints, and it depressed him. Fantasy? They always misused magic, and it was infuriating!
The idea came to Papyrus when he had caught sight of a half dressed model on TV, during an ad break, and it was perfect.
Erotic fiction. Something to help people get their rocks off. He wouldn’t complain, either.
Papyrus cracked his knuckles, feeling them pop and shift with a satisfying crunch, before wiggling them for relief. Yes. That was what writers did, outside of writing. He had looked it up on Undernet, and though he lacked the self-loathing, he did have the desperate need for attention. He was going to be gifted, he just knew it. Papyrus hunched in his computer chair, eager, already vaguely aroused. He was going to buy Sans something nice with the money he would make off of this book, a vacation, perhaps. But that would come in time (as would he). He set his rattling fingers to the keyboard, and began. Subtly.
‘THERE’S BEEN A CATASTROPHIC BONER CRISIS IN THE CITY OF COCKSWORTH.’
Papyrus frowned. Something in his mind told him that wasn’t a good point to start on, but he also wanted to masturbate, so he quelled that part of him.
‘TRILLIONS OF--’
Papyrus paused, loosening his scarf and watching his fingers. How many people were on the planet? A lot. A trillion is a lot, nobody would catch the error.
‘TRILLIONS OF PEOPLE ARE DYING FROM THE WORST DISEASE THERE IS; NOT HAVING SEX WITH MANY BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE WHO WILL PAY ATTENTION TO YOU AND GIVE YOU COMPLIMENTS AND MAKE YOU FEEL NICE.’
Papyrus settled in his chair, shifting his weight before moving on, typing hurriedly.
‘THE ONLY CURE... THE HEAVING COCK--’
Papyrus gasped, scandalized, before deleting the offending term. That wasn’t sexy, it was... There was no grace to it, it was crude!
‘THE ONLY CURE... THE HEAVING SKELETAL MEAT-SHAFT--’
Nailed it.
‘OF THE BELOVED DOCTOR PEPYRUS!!’
Papyrus leaned back in his chair, thinking earnestly. He needed to set the scene. It needed to be low, sensual, erotic.
‘THE SUN HUNG IN THE SKY LIKE A BOOB.’
Brilliant!
‘IT WAS HOT, AS THE SUN TENDS TO BE THAT, APPARENTLY, I HAVEN’T ACTUALLY SEEN IT. BUT I’M GOING TO NEED YOU TO SUSPEND YOUR DISBELIEF FOR MY SAKES.’
He didn’t want to be rude.
‘THANK YOU!’
Sans was shifting in the next room, and Papyrus heard faint music through the wall.
‘SUDDENLY, SHE WALKED IN. NOT JUST ANY SHE. HER. YOU KNOW. HER.’
A name, one that betrayed her character, but not enough to lay it bare.
‘BOOBS COMELY. SHE SAUNTERED IN, HIPS SWAYING, LIKE HER HANDS HAD BEEN TIED BUT SHE NEEDED TO FEND OFF DOZENS OF AGGRESSIVE RATS.’
Papyrus would decide on what she looked like later, but there was only one thing on his mind. She was a Human! How delightfully saucy, he tittered, sweating, face tinting. How forbidden, how taboo!
‘‘BOOBS COMELY!,’ THE DOCTOR MEDICALED, ‘MY FAVOURITE PATIENT! AND THE ONLY ONE I’LL EVER TALK TO OUTSIDE OF SIDE CHARACTERS FOR THE PURPOSES OF THIS STORY!’'
‘SHE JIGGLED IN GREETINGS, BEFORE SWOONING AND HITTING THE GROUND LIKE A BOULDER PELTED OUT OF A WINDOW.’
‘’NURSE! NURSE, SHE NEEDS NINE INCHES OF PENIS, OR SHE’S NOT GOING TO MAKE IT!!’’
‘DR. PEPYRUS PLACED BOOBS' SMALL, LITHE HAND ON HIS GROIN, AND SHE CAME (TEEHEE!!) TO IMMEDIATELY, EYES LIDDED.’
‘’... NEVERMIND NURSE, I FIXED IT!’’
Papyrus felt as if he should be drinking large cups of coffee, and throwing scrunched balls of paper into trashcans. That was what writers did, usually to tense music, according to the television.
‘’HUMAN, IT’S ME, YOUR SEXY DOCTOR. PEPYRUS.’’
Papyrus huffed, smirking. Perfect. He had made a perfect character. But what was his character’s motivation? Why was he a doctor? Was it to help? For his own self gain?
‘’THERE’S BEEN A SPACE CRISIS, WHICH IS A CRISIS IN SPACE. THIS IS GOOD, BECAUSE I AM A SPACE DOCTOR. THAT IS WHY I AM A DOCTOR. IN SPACE.’’
Space sex! Yes! It took all of Papyrus’ considerable willpower not to drop the project and masturbate then and there, but he had exquisite art to create. But he couldn’t just cut to the goods straight away, there needed to be conflict, resolution, sweet relief as the build up pays off!
‘’I CAN’T SLEEP WITH YOU, DOCTOR I’M... DYING!’’
‘‘I KNOW, THAT’S WHY YOU’RE SEEING ME, THE SPACE-DOCTOR!’’
‘’CURSE YOU SPACE-DOCTOR PEPYRUS, YOU ALWAYS SEE THROUGH ME! TAKE ME NOW!’’
‘’NYEH-EH-ES!’’
‘BOOBS COMELY SHOWED DOCTOR PAPYRUS HER BOOBS. THEY WERE VERY COMELY.’
Meaningful names! Papyrus could kiss himself! Papyrus didn’t know what accolades he could be given for writing this masterpiece, but he would certainly get every one of them.
... Oh. He had used his real name. That wouldn’t do. He erased it, and fit in the new name, of his handsome, sexually mischievous protagonist.
‘BOOBS, (BREASTS, TO HER FRIENDS), UNDID HER TOO-SMALL BUTTONED-UP SHIRT, UNTIL IT WAS A BUTTONED-OFF SHIRT, IN THAT IT WAS ON THE FLOOR, NOT BEING WORN BY ANYONE. SHE SMELLED SEXY. LIKE PERFUME! AND VAGINAS!’
Papyrus paused again. Good God, this was difficult. No wonder he was going to earn awards at the end of this, he deserved them. What was Boob’s motivation?
‘BOOBS REALLY LIKED SEX. A LOT. A LOT LOT. SO MUCH. BOOBS ISN’T EVEN HER REAL NAME, PROBABLY. SOME WOMEN RAN, SOME LEAD THE ROYAL GUARD AND THEN DIDN’T LET PERFECTLY RESPECTABLE SKELETONS JOIN, AND SOME LOVED SEX. BOOBS WAS THAT LAST ONE. SHE WAS HUNGRY FOR PENIS LIKE PEOPLE GET HUNGRY FOR FOOD THREE TIMES A DAY, AND DR. PAPYRUS WAS MORE THAN HAPPY TO DELIVER! LIKE A SAUSAGE PIZZA, BUT THERE’S NO PIZZA, AND THE SAUSAGE IS A LITERAL ONE, RATHER THAN A CRAFTY METAPHOR.’
Papyrus hemmed in thought, the clacking of his keyboard ceasing. Around five hundred words. His pace was breakneck, and he was worried that his fingers would come flying clean off, which would impede the masturbation part of his endeavours, but he powered through regardless.
‘PEPYRUS TOUCHED HER BOOB, WHICH--’
Wait, hold on.
‘WHICH WAS PROBABLY A BAD IDEA BECAUSE THEY WERE IN THE HALLWAY, BUT IT TURNS OUT THAT BEING THE CASE IS MAKING IT BETTER FOR ME, SO WE’RE ROLLING WITH THAT PREMISE, APPARENTLY.’
It’s true. You really do find yourself when you’re lost in thought.
‘THEY WERE SOFT. I THINK. I MEAN, THEY DON’T LOOK HARD, THEY LOOK PLEASANTLY BOUNCY, AND SQUASHABLE, AND--’
Ahh, there was his hard-on. This was a promising sign. He flexed it, breathing heavily. Not now, he had a story to write, he was not a savage and could wait however long it took to write this.
‘FUN TO TOUCH! BOOBS TOOK OFF HER SKIRT, BUT LEFT HER HEELS ON, BECAUSE THAT’S NICE FOR REASONS I CAN’T QUITE PIN DOWN, UNTIL SHE WAS BARE. STAFF CARRIED ON THEIR WORK AROUND THEM. THEIR MEDICINE WORK. THEY HAD SEEN IT ALL, BUT THEY WERE ABOUT TO SEE SOME MORE.’
‘SHE OPENED HER LEGS, AND--’
Out came the tissues. To dab at the sweat on his forehead, of course, it was a very hot day and sweating was just unsanitary. He was a hygienic skeleton.
‘SHE OPENED HER LEGS, AND--’
You’re going to need to come right out with it, he thought, hands shaking.
‘SHE OPENED HER LEGS AND SHOWED OFF HER VAJIMBOJIMITYJANGLES!’
Papyrus recoiled as if he had been shot, the relief palpable. Thank God. The word was out there.
‘IT WAS CUTE AND PINK AND WET LOOKING. PEPYRUS WAS GOING TO PERFORM, WHAT WAS KNOWN IN THE MEDICAL COMMUNITY, AS A ‘SICK MOVE, BRO’. HE PICKED HER UP WITH HIS RIPPLING SKELETON MUSCLES. IT LOOKED LIKE A SACK OF ANACONDAS HAD BEEN BEATEN WITH A SEXY STICK. A STICK THAT HAPPENED TO BE SEXY, INSTEAD OF A PENIS. HE THEN, WITH THE FORCE OF A MILLION CHARGING BULLS, THRUST INTO HER, HIS RAGING BONER TEARING HIS PANTS CLEAN OFF. A PASSING NURSE MENTIONED THAT A PATIENT WAS HAVING A HEART ATTACK TWO WARDS AWAY, BUT BRAVE PEPYRUS PUSHED THAT OFF UNTIL LATER, BECAUSE HE HAD BUSINESS TO ATTEND TO.’
Papyrus shifted on his femurs to lessen the aching pressure on his groin, but let his hand trickle slowly downwards to find his pants.
‘LORD ALMIGHTY HERE WE GO. WE’RE ABOUT TO ROCKET FULL FORCE INTO THROBBING CALCIUM FUCK--’
“you alright there?”
Papyrus froze, whipping his hand out from his boxers and doing his best to hide his slackened zipper, legs whipped into a flurry of movement as he threw his body in front of the monitor. Sans was by the door, looking on.
“oh, you writin’?” Sans yawned, having not come to, and Papyrus counted his numerous blessings as he hid his shame. “what’re you writin’ about?”
“NOTHING SANS I AM NOT WRITING I AM NOT EVEN AT MY COMPUTER, THIS IS A DREAM--”
It was too late. No. God, no. With an uncommon speed, as if teleporting, Sans loomed over his shoulder, reading the screen, and Papyrus locked with shame. Slowly, as if moving through tar, Sans turned to him, and Papyrus braced himself for the ribbing of a lifetime, shameful tears already gathering in his sockets.
“L-LOOK--”
“i thought cocksworth was a city.”
The statement hung in the air, as Papyrus tried to process it. Sans continued on, his facial expression as casual as ever.
“i mean, like, you established it as a city, but now it’s a space station. is it a floating city?”
“N-NO,” Papyrus blustered back, “I-I, YOU SHOULD GO, YOU SHOULDN’T--”
“what’s a space doctor? what makes him different from a normal doctor? what’s boobs up to when she’s not thinkin’ about that sweet skeleton ram-rod?”
Papyrus physically recoiled, and Sans couldn’t suppress his laughter. It clicked.
“... IS THIS... YOU’RE OFFERING ADVICE?”
“yeah? i mean, you’re enjoying yourself, right? might as well help where i can. and, uh, word of advice, ‘cock’ is fine.”
“PLEASE STOP. PLEASE. I APPRECIATE IT, BUT--”
“i got the whole day; you want me to critique this thing?”
“NO!!”
“what the fuck is a vajimbojimityjangles. you can say ‘cunt’, y’know.”
“GET OUT OF MY ROOM, SANS!!”