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Ink mischievously giggles as he sneaks around the bean bag, grinning at Error's form lying on the floor cushion. He almost cackles, concealing any noise he makes as he stands up, hands clasped behind his back. He moves his head to the side, seeing the latest episode of Undernovela playing on one of Error's windows. He leans closer next to Error's skull, smiling big.
“Whatcha doin'?”
Error lets out a screech, throwing his popcorn bag up in the air—Ink catches it and eats a fluffy kernel—and turns his head swiftly around to meet Ink's crinkling eyes. The black boned skeleton's eyes are fuzzy, his body nearly glitching out. It's cute to see him so spooked.
“Don't scare me like that, idiot!” Error exclaims, glaring once Ink munches on another kernel.
Ink smiles, feigning ignorance as he tilts his head. “What do you mean?” He asks, not even allowing Error to speak as he settles onto the bean bag next to him, holding the popcorn bag in his lap. His body instinctively faces Error. “Is this the newest one?” Ink looks at the window, marvelling at the character designs of Asgoro and Sin, the two arguing in what seems to be the church.
Error huffs, moving around a bit to get more comfortable, allowing Ink to lay his skull on his shoulder. Faint glitches decorated where they came in contact before fizzing away. “It is. The pastor was just found out to be the head of a rival mafia.” Error informs.
Ink gasps, not too loudly though, trying to hear the Spanish dialogue of Sin practically crying out his love for Toriel to Asgoro. “The pastor?”
“Yeah! Now Sin is rightfully defeated, but Asgoro is conflicted by an anonymous request by another mafia, claiming that if he doesn't kill Papiro, they'll kill his family.”
Ink's jaw almost falls off for how wide it is. “All this in 15 minutes?” He inquires, watching as Error reaches into the bag and chews on a kernel.
“20, actually.” Error says, albeit muffled. He swallows the popcorn piece down before furrowing his brows, eyes ignoring the window. “You're late.” He states.
Ink chuckles, his smile strained as he sighs. He fiddles with his pant leg. “Dream wanted to talk about something.”
Dream has been trying to tell Ink to stop getting into Error's space.
The guardian, as positive as ever, was privy to a few moments they shared. Ink teasing him, spooking him, getting up real close to him, and nose nuzzling him. Dream has been concerned that Ink is ignoring Error's boundaries. To be frank, Ink is starting to think he might be right, even if the paints swirling in his chest—filled with pink and green—react crazily to the contact. Lately, Ink has begun to doubt his view of their relationship.
It isn't from Dream's insistent claims about boundaries and whatever. Ink can be introspective. He knows that Error gets angry when touched, not as much as he used to back then. Ink had toned down the contact once he began to realize Error wasn't kidding about his haphephobia, yet the destroyer's annoyed face remains after all these months of Ink's PDA.
Well, maybe Dream has a right to be concerned. The pink vial is the base of affection and love. Ink frequently sips it when coming across a friend or his fathers. It swirls nicely in his chest, fuzzy whenever he gets a hug from his dad and pops, bursting when he manages to steal a kiss from Error. It's practically a drug, a good one. But here comes the question: Is Ink taking it too far?
And it's not like Ink's purposely trying to get into Error's space. The pink in his system naturally makes him giddy around Error, and he can't help but peck and cuddle him. He gets a bit too excited, nearly vomiting half the time. But can anyone really blame him? Error is his boyfriend. A boyfriend! Such a cool word to throw around in public, even if Error's face dusts a soft blue in embarrassment when Ink basically shows it to the multiverse.
Error frowns, it's almost a pout. “Tell that banana boy to quit it already! You missed the whole episode from last week because of him. What's he got to tell you so badly?” He questions, not even bothering to hide his nosiness.
Ink snorts. “Nothing serious, Glitchy. It's fine, I'd tell you if it was.”
Error squints, suspicious. He huffs, turning his skull back to the window. “Fine. Now watch, Asgoro is about to tell Sin about killing his brother.”
Ink gasps, bright and excited. “Really?!”
There isn't much thought into Dream's words. If Dream is right, then Ink guesses he should lay off the affection, even if it upsets his metaphorical stomach and the blue swirls unpleasantly in his chest. See, the thing is, Ink can try to be not as affectionate (even if it physically feels impossible not to awe at Error’s face), but the guardian’s way of it brings Ink to a pause.
Dream suggests leaving Error alone for a few days. He said it’s something to do with codependency, and how a bit of time away from Ink could give Error some relief. It stumped Ink, not knowing that Error is that bothered as he thought. Sure, they have both been spending time together, so much time that it honestly feels like they’re practically living together. Ink doesn’t have a home of his own, not really needing rest or nutrition. But Error’s Anti-Void feels closest to one, even if there is barely anything in there. Besides, the beanbag is also comfy to sleep on, and being next to a warm body is a feeling Ink still hasn’t gotten used to, but he finds that he enjoys it.
And if Error needs to find some space for himself, then Ink wouldn’t mind doing this for him. He doesn’t want the destroyer to be uncomfortable. Error does not attempt to speak up about whatever bothers him, so Ink will give mercy. He probably also realized how affectionate Ink has been and couldn’t voice it.
Nudging the popcorn bag in between his legs, Ink takes the end of his brown scarf, scanning through the notes. He finds a blank spot on the scarf and gently lifts his head from Error’s shoulder. He searches around the beanbag for a leftover paintbrush. He swears he left one here yesterday. His hand reaches around the edge of the beanbag, smiling as his fingers wrap around the small paintbrush. Ink drops the scarf in his lap, hovering his other hand in front of him to form a tiny ink ball, lightly dipping the brush into it. He picks up the scarf and writes on a reminder with careful strokes, sticking his tongue out.
Leave Error alone for 3 days, Dream says so!
He smiles at the writing before blinking at another reminder above it.
My birthday is on April 15th! Don't forget to visit dads and Error!
Huh. Was it really in three days?
***
It's the first day of no contact with Error. It feels unremarkable, although it's just without the destroyer. He continued checking the scripts in the Doodle Sphere and went to the Omega Timeline for a bit to talk with Core Frisk. There's a new AU he wanted to look at, but he keeps forgetting the name and tries to write it down like it's the daily Wordle. So far, he's got ‘SNA’ on his scarf for the time being.
He contemplated whether or not he should visit his fathers. With so much time on his hands, he might as well use it all up on learning more about astrophysics with Aster. Or he could see if Undertop wanted something to be tailored while they talked about absolutely anything. His fathers are so nice to have, especially when they're the best gay couple in the entire multiverse! Even better, Ink could tease them all day whilst getting relationship advice.
But then, Ink's form melted into ink, and he was transported to Underswap. A paint can broke open, and he was standing in front of Swap's apartment building. Oh well, best friends were better than nothing!
He sits on the couch in Underswap, watching as Swap brings in boxes to his new apartment shared with his brother. So far, Ink has counted over a dozen cardboard boxes. Some light, too many of them heavy. They all have labels, drawn in black marker. Ink had taken a box a while ago. It’s all drawn over with mellow browns, grassy greens, and different shapes of green leaves. He thinks the box is labelled "fake plants"; the label was covered by marker ages ago.
He’s sort of bored. He had tried to help Swap with the boxes, but the guard was insistent that he was fine on his own. Stretch hadn’t contributed to it; he left to get tacos as a lunch break, and he’s yet to come back. Ink still wonders why he didn’t just teleport back, although he’s likely trying to annoy Ink. The living room is stacked with boxes, filled with so many items that Ink didn’t think was possible. He would’ve thought the two brothers were hoarders!
He didn’t think there was this much stuff in their house back in the Underground. Was there a basement he wasn’t aware of? Did Stretch deliberately make sure he wasn’t aware of it? Did Ink forget there was a super cool basement that was never spoken of again?
He decides not to think much about it. He looks up as Swap releases a large overdramatic breath, setting another cardboard box down on the floor. The guard places a hand on his hip, wiping his brow.
“Oh, boy!” He exclaims, eyes darting over the boxes. “I think that's the last batch!”
Ink can't help but snort. “You think? Looks like you're working at Amazon!”
“It’s not a lot!” Swap rolls his eyes, smiling as he saunters forward to take a seat next to Ink. He lets out a heavy sigh, relaxing into the cushions. “I'm wiped out, I'm becoming my brother already,” He states.
Ink chuckles, bringing his knees up to his chest as he takes a look around the main room.
It's empty, achingly so. Its walls are thankfully not white, a soft beige that he knows Swap will change in a week. Ink thinks a nice shade of grey would suffice. Sure, a living room looks appealing with white walls, decorated with paintings and bookshelves. But Ink has a bit of an artistic eye that nobody can really compete with. It's why creators express gratitude for his help, and why Error gets irritated by his complaints about the Anti-Void's blank space.
Ink slumps, frowning as his eyes drop. It's not as weird as Ink thought it was going to be. He always runs around the place, trying to help creators. Hopefully, Dream is right, and Error knows he doesn't have to be punished in silence for saying nothing.
“I wanted to thank you for accompanying me.” Swap says, bringing Ink out of his stupor. The guard is smiling, eyes fond as he stares at Ink. “I know this move is a bit insignificant to you, but I'm glad you're here.”
Ink grins. “What? Why wouldn't it be important?”
He shrugs. “Well, it's a bit strange that you're here just for a few boxes. It's a little boring, isn't it? And you aren't with Error right now, so I'm guessing something happened.”
Ink's mouth dips into a frown. “Yeah, well… I'm not with Error right now.” He pauses, then he gives Swap a smirk. “You're going to see more of me, obviously!”
Swap chuckles. “Ink, you've been drawing nonsense. You were staring into space for a couple of minutes. C'mon, I'm one of your best friends!” He nudges Ink's shoulder, grinning brightly.
Ink sighs, his back digging into the couch. “I don't know. I'm trying to give Error some space.”
Swap blinks. “What?”
Ink shrugs one shoulder, looking over to the window, an apartment complex staring back at him. “Dream told me he saw how pushy I got with Error and advised me to leave him alone for a while.” He looks back at Swap, smiling sheepishly. “I, uh, didn't want you to think you were a rebound or anything.” He teases, although it falls flat as he takes in the guard's expression.
Swap only sends Ink an unreadable look. “Really?”
Ink is taken back. “Yes? It's the first day without seeing him, which is kind of fine right now, to be honest. I mean, I'm still thinking of him but not immediately coming to scare him in the Anti-Void and—”
“No, no.” Swap interrupts, sitting up as he waves a hand in Ink's direction. He looks up, brows furrowed. “Error didn't make a fuss about it?”
“Why would he? I didn't tell him or anything.”
“You didn't tell him?” Swap asks, aghast. “Ink! Miscommunication is one thing, but not telling Error when he gets too possessive is another.” He says, dread dripping through his tone.
Ink's face scrunches up. “What are you talking about? Error isn't possessive, that's nuts!”
Swap winces. “Not to you, yet, but he has before.”
Swap had been kidnapped by Error years ago. It was around the time Ink accidentally came to Underswap, meeting Swap for the first time and getting pushed against the wall by his brother. Stretch still manages to piss him off. After meeting Swap, they met up a few times, and Swap told him about Error. Ink was so curious about the multiverse, still is, but compared to now, from then, he was a novice. So naturally, hearing about alternate versions of yourself was so exciting. Swap had mentioned he was surprised that Ink hadn’t heard of Error, saying that Error always claims he was a world-class destroyer. What a huge ego (and Ink is fond of it).
Error had taken Swap out of his AU. The guard says it was a confusing experience, but one he’s glad is over. Instead of Error threatening his AU, they both had watched Undernovela and talked with each other, just as Swap had suggested. Error was lonely; he didn’t have anyone to talk to, and all he had for company were his dolls that looked like AU characters.
He was somewhat like Ink. Are they really codependent?
“He’s not like that with me, trust me.” Ink finally replies.
Swap looks suspicious. “Sure.”
Ink feels his face warm, rolling his eyes as he nudges Swap’s shoulder back. “Don’t be like that. So! What are we unboxing first?”
Back to the mission at hand, Swap directs them to his bedroom. He carries two boxes, telling Ink to pick one up as well. The room has white painted walls. Ink frowns at it for a moment before shaking his head. He can think of ideas later, perhaps a nice green to make the room pop. He places the box on the bedframe as he goes to open the taped flaps.
“Wait!” Swap shouts, a hand outstretched, the other one balancing the boxes.
“What?” Ink questions, orange spiralling in his chest.
“That’s the mattress!” The guard says, setting the boxes down as he saunters close.
“...The mattress is in this little box—?”
“Yes! We must be careful!” Swap takes the box, gently setting it on the floor. He breathes a sigh of relief. Then, he grins. “That was close!”
Ink chuckles, hands falling to his hips. “I won’t ask how you fit it in there.”
Swap gives him a friendly smile, opening his mouth before a buzz interrupts him. Confused, he checks his pants pocket and blinks bewilderedly at his phone. He furrows his brows until looking back up at Ink. “It’s Error.”
Ink tilts his head. “Error?”
Ever since Swap had been taken back to his AU when Error took him to the Anti-Void, Swap made sure that the destroyer was able to contact him via cellphone. Swap didn’t want Error to make his friends concerned for his well-being again, and it was a safe approach. There had been a few times when Error caused a scene in front of Napstaton, when Swap had been going on dates with the robot, and it frankly embarrassed him. Swap used to complain about it in the Star Sanses base.
But now, there is no date. Swap accepts the call warily and places it near his skull. “Hello?” They both quiet down as Swap's face grows perplexed. “Uh, yeah, we're actually in the middle of unboxing.”
The guard jumps after a moment, and he blinks rapidly. “Are you okay?” He sends Ink a look, and Ink feels the purple spin wildly in his chest.
Did something bad happen already? Was Swap right about miscommunication, and Error is already on an AU rampage and raging about missing yet another Undernovela episode? But that couldn't be it. Ink hasn't felt an AU crumbling since being here, and he's pretty sure the next episode is on the weekend. So, what's the look from Swap for?
Swap breathes out a chuckle, a bit nervously as he listens. “Oh, alright. And yeah! I'll tell him, maybe, probably, likely.” Swap swallows. “Okay, bye!” He quickly hangs up, his eyes giving Ink a dirty look.
Ink shrinks into himself. “I'm guessing Error is mad I didn't tell him?”
Swap hums, pocketing his phone. “Oh, no. He accidentally ripped a doll in half that he was making.”
Ink perks up. “Oh! That's unfortunate.”
The guard crosses his arms, an unimpressed look on his face. “He ripped it, after I told him you were with me.”
Ink frowns. “Oh.”
Swap sighs. “Ink, he wanted me to ask if you were still coming to watch Undernovela with him this weekend.”
“Yeah! Definitely! I'll be right back when Dream's little suggestion is over!”
“Okay, that's good— Wait.” Swap freezes, his hands stalling from reaching for a box. He squints at Ink. “Over? How long is this?” He inquires.
Ink shrugs. “Dream didn't say a specific time. I'm going for 3 days.”
The guard can only stare in shock. He's at a loss for words. Letting out a sigh, Swap smiles, although it's crooked. “Let's just hope Error doesn't freak out.” He says, before reaching for one of the boxes to open up, avoiding the one he made Ink leave alone.
His box suddenly bursts open, a white mattress unfolding out of it as it covers Swap's form within seconds.
Ink can only gape, eyes switching back and forth between Swap's covered form and the box. He squints at the cardboard. Ignoring the outburst of swears, Ink takes the box in his hands, inspecting it with a frown.
It's the one Ink had carried. The sides of the box are slightly stained with leftover markers. But how did it get here? Didn't Swap just place the one with the mattress on the floor?
He perks up at a very evil chuckle, turning his head around just in time to see a white window close on one of the walls. He raises a brow, astounded. Ink jolts as Swap pushes away the mattress, his face settled in a disgruntled manner. The guard's eyes darted to Ink's own.
“He's freaking out.”
Ink gulps.
***
Dream isn't as secretive as he thinks he is.
The guardian looks more at ease. His smile looks more relaxed as they both amble through the Omega Timeline's mall. He greets every human and monster with a beaming face of joy. Even his aura seems to glow brightly. But Ink can fortunately see through it.
“It's just a beautiful day, isn't it?” Dream asks. His smile could melt ice with how warm it is. “It would be nice to have some strawberries.”
“Like tanghulu?” Ink says in return. He's amused by Dream's eyes lighting up, like he struck gold. Dream is so easily satisfied by Ink's answers. He's pleased by the information Ink freely gives him, so contented that his aura is practically the physical form of the sun.
Dream isn't secretive, especially with Ink's birthday coming up. It's been the same way for years. Dream would try to garner information, tidbits in nearly every conversation. He thinks he hasn't been caught, even though it's clear that every gift is a callback to multiple talks during the week. Ink is reluctant to say anything about it.
It's just been back-and-forth banter. Dream managed to keep Ink's attention as they went into most of the shops. He claims it's for someone he knows, but it's so obvious that it's for Ink by the shops they went into. Ink didn't realize there could be this many stores that were art-related.
He sips from his boba tea, waiting as Dream gets his own, and the guardian thanks the barista. Dream moves the extra bags he carries onto his other arm, taking the boba in his left hand. They continue to walk as Ink lets out an overdramatic yawn. Dream giggles at it.
“I take it you're listless?” Dream inquires.
“Dream, we've been here for so long! We just about made a couple of loops. I think nearly everyone noticed.” Ink answers, his eyes looking over to a couple of monsters, grouped and perplexed.
Dream hums, smiling. “They don't bother you, I know so.”
Ink blows a raspberry. “Okay! I know you're just buzzing to ask me.”
Dream doesn't look shamefaced; his smile turns into a radiant grin. “So it worked!”
“I wouldn't say it worked.” Ink says, rolling his eyes. “It's just day two!”
“Day two! I'm over the moon!”
Ink furrows his brows. “You're not on the moon.”
Dream sighs, shaking his head fondly. “Not literally. It's an idiom.” Then, the guardian grabs Ink's hands to hold them together. “So, is it working?”
Ink doesn't think so. Ever since yesterday, Ink hasn't brushed off the feeling of being watched like a hawk. He and Swap had successfully opened up the boxes, and nothing bad had happened. Maybe, except for the fact that Stretch's tacos disappeared once he came back to the apartment. But that could've been a coincidence! The bag was ripped open at the bottom. It could've just ripped, and the tacos fell without Stretch knowing.
When Ink came back to the Doodlesphere after multiple failed attempts at cooking tacos with that damned stovetop, his senses were heightened, and he swore he felt eyes on the back of his skull. But every time he turned his head to look for it, there was nothing there. So, he continued to check up on the scripts and went on to explore a few new and old ones. Strangely, odd events happened when he interacted with out-codes.
Ink had watched Fell direct the human to bed with a gruff demeanour from one of the windows. Fell is one of Ink's favourites, he's just so edgy and cool! He still can't manage to get an autograph. He had waited to see if Fell would read the human a bedtime story, but then Doomfanger suddenly got spooked. Ink watched as the white cat jumped from place to place, stemming from the kitchen, making a loud noise. Fell had swore underneath his breath, and any motivation to read to the kid was gone. Ink had sulked, then squinted suspiciously at the amount of chocolate bar wrappers on the kitchen floor.
Ink found a nice flower shop in one of the AUs and decided to give a bouquet to Aster. He was in the middle of picking out, well, asters, when he was suddenly face-to-face with a certain parasite. Fresh had said a bunch of nonsense about flowers being a huge 90s thing, and he came to smell them. But Ink knew his actual intentions. He didn't bat an eye when Fresh stalked a monster that was likely a background character. Dream would've reprimanded him for letting Fresh do such a thing, but he can't care for it. It became weird once Fresh was about to put his arm around him, but stopped right as he was about to touch him.
It was like he was frozen, petrified even. Fresh didn't say much, although his grin was crooked when he said his goodbyes. Ink was left confused, but he continued getting the flowers. It wasn't until he left the AU that he realized that the bouquet had not been wrapped with ribbon, but with blue strings. How didn't he realize the flowers were tightened?
He tried to ignore the other instances as best he could. Now, in the Omega Timeline, he can't let go of the feeling of being watched. He knows Error doesn't have the power to get into the Omega Timeline, but from yesterday, he can't help but feel the destroyer is looking at him. It feels… kind of thrilling.
Concealing that emotion deep down, he smiles at Dream. “Sure. It's working.”
Dream looks delighted. “Oh, how great! I'm surprised Error didn't overreact!”
Ink sweatdrops. “Oh yeah, it's totally great!”
Dream grins, then takes Ink's hand to take them closer to one of the larger parts of the mall. “My friend also needs a lot of party decorations! What colour would look best?”
“Green or yellow would suffice.” Ink replies, letting the guardian drag him to the party aesthetic store.
“That works!” Dream exclaims.
“Ink, I need to talk to you.”
Ink blinks as a monochrome child stops them in their tracks. Dream smiles at them.
“Hello, Frisk. We're doing a bit of shopping.” He states.
Core Frisk just nods, their face carefully blank. “That's wonderful. Alas, I need Ink for just a moment.”
Ink furrows his brows. “Okay?” He turns his head to look at Dream. “Just look for nice green plates or yellow balloons. Actually, get some browns as well.”
Dream perks up, nodding with a smile. He waves at Core Frisk as he heads into the shop.
Ink looks back at Core Frisk, a frown on his face. “What's up? You're looking a bit serious there, pal.”
“Observant, I like it. Keeps you on your toes.” Core Frisk voices, then they sigh. “I am led to believe the destroyer is throwing a fit.”
Oh, god.
Ink winces. “Is this me, again?”
“You haven't been honest.” Core Frisk says, “He thinks you're ignoring him.”
“I'm not trying to! Dream just—” Well, he can't exactly blame Dream. He sighs, crossing his arms as much as he can with the boba in hand. “It's just for three days!”
Core Frisk doesn't blink. “A lot can happen in three days.” They say in response.
Ink huffs. “Look, it can't be that bad. Error is being a bit of a mischief-maker. You know I'm one too! He's just been causing minor problems in AUs, as long as he doesn't disrupt it.”
The monochrome child tilts their head. “I haven't heard of Error causing a ruckus.” They say.
Ink blinks, puzzled. “But you just said he was throwing a fit.”
Core Frisk shakes their head. “No, Ink. He's throwing a fit for you.”
Ink can't help but stare. “Excuse me?”
Core Frisk clasps their hands behind their back. “He is trying hard to find you. He has yet to realize that you are here.” They rock back and forth on their heels. “It might be best to get this over and done with.”
“I'll… I'll see what I can do.” Ink promises, frowning.
***
“See you tomorrow, Ink!” Dream says, waving with such a large positive aura that it can rival the sun.
Ink waves back, smiling, although it's wavering. “Yeah, see ya.”
He watches as Dream enters one of his portals, carrying multiple bags for his supposed friend. He sighs, frowning at himself as he rethinks what to do. He ignores every character that looks at him, likely wondering why he's in one place and hasn't left.
Well, that's the thing, isn't it?
Error is looking for him. Error is looking for Ink. He could be searching through every AU just to find him. Or, he could be sitting on his bean bag, rewatching Undernovela like Dream had initially thought he'd do. But Core Frisk's answers are different.
Ink is conflicted, but he's also elated. And isn't that strange? He should be disappointed that Error is trying to get to him. He should be ashamed that Error actually didn't want space and apologize for his idiotic idea. It was Dream's suggestion, but Ink still cannot blame the guardian.
He's giddy at the thought of Error. His chest is pumping with yellow and pink at a fast pace. Swallowing, he takes a breath, letting the ink swirl around him as he's taken to the Doodle Sphere. He waits in anticipation.
Eyes darting in the peaceful quietness of the Doodle Sphere, he lets out a breath. It's a mix of relief and disappointment. He goes to turn around, startled as his eyes meet a chest. He recognizes the red turtleneck and black jacket, brightening as he opens his mouth. He jumps as Error's hands grip his forearms. Ink blinks rapidly.
“Found you.” Error says.
Ink gapes. “Hey, what—”
Error uses his own portal before Ink can even let go. They drop into the Anti-Void, not even seconds later, until Error stuffs his face into Ink's neck. Ink can feel Error breathing in his scent that the destroyer always complains about, the smell of ink, acrylic paint and book paper. Error nestles his face deeper, letting his teeth gnaw at Ink's throat.
Ink's hands fist onto Error's jacket from the sudden teleportation, making a soft and shaky laugh. "What's— What's all this about?" He asks, but his head tilts to reveal more of his neck almost instinctively—the pink bubbles in his chest.
Error hugs Ink's waist tighter. He kisses the column of the skeleton's right side of his neck. "Stop ignoring me." He demands, voice gruff.
He falls to his back, right onto the beanbag. Ink yelps, not quite expecting them to fall. Error's hands plant firmly on Ink's hips as Ink straddles him. Ink's eyes are an orange question mark and a pink heart.
"Whoa, is this Error or am I dreaming?" Ink inquires, letting out a couple of giggles as Error practically nuzzles his neck and kisses down his throat. "Hey, I'm just wondering!"
Error doesn't usually get clingy. That's Ink's territory. But this is oddly exhilarating. His chest swirls in pinks and greens from Error's grip on his waist; it's almost too overwhelming. Ink knows Error will probably glitch out by the next few seconds and—
Error sinks his teeth into Ink's neck, latching onto his collarbone as he brings Ink's scarf down lower. Ink lets out a choked gasp, eyes widening in surprise as he shivers from the huff of amusement Error lets out. Ink will likely never hear the end of it. His hands tremble from their hold on Error's jacket, instead bringing them around Error's shoulders for purchase. The destroyer licks over the new wound, and Ink trembles from the feel of Error's multiple tongues slipping out to lap at his collarbone.
"Oh, okay." Ink swallows. He breathes next to Error's skull, warm and humid. He hitches his breath as Error licks over the wound. It's a bit ticklish. Ink snorts, giggling as he struggles to stay upright. “Error!”
Error regains a smirk full of mischief, pressing feverish kisses and bites onto Ink's neck. “Stay still.”
Ink laughs, trying to push away, but Error's hands are insistent on their place on Ink's hips. “Glitchy!”
“Happy birthday.” Error responds, before diving back into Ink's neck with a wild smirk.
***
Ink stretches his hands over his head as he saunters to the Star Sanses base. He lets out a yawn, looking up at the morning sun. It's a bit too warm. He goes to the door, opening it as he leaves Broomie next to the wall. He sees Dream and Swap in the kitchen. The guard is in the middle of cooking up some eggs, as Dream sits at the table with a cup of tea in his hands.
Dream looks up in time to meet Ink's eyes, smiling at him. “You're here a bit early.” Ink can see the stuffed party decorations in many cabinets. He doesn't point it out, smiling back at the guardian.
“Yeah, I had to go to Undertop's place a bit earlier.” Ink replies, taking a seat as he cracks his back.
“Don't tell me Mr. Undertop made you do all those stunts again.” Swap says, taking his eyes off the eggs to look at Ink with a knowing smile.
Ink blinks. “Oh, no. Apparently, dragon riding is like horses. Those things can whack me out.”
Dream tilts his head. “Do you want some herbal tea? I got a few with healing properties.”
“I had some with Aster.” Ink reassures. He cracks his neck.
Dream nods, then his face grows almost blank. After a moment, his zygomatic bones glow yellow.
Ink takes note of this, furrowing his brows. “What's up?”
Swap perks up at the change in tone, looking over with a raised brow. His face also turns blue.
Dream clears his throat, flushing yellow. “Uh, I wanted to apologize for making you give space to Error.”
Ink blinks at him, befuddled. “It's all good. Is everything alright?”
Swap hurriedly nods. “Yeah! It's just—” He lets out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his head. “You okay? Your neck is…”
Ink immediately realizes, and he makes a huge grin. “Oh! You mean these?” He moves his hand toward the opening of his scarf, but the two skeletons before him start to panic.
“No! No! You don't need to show us!” Dream exclaims, hiding his face with his hands. From beside the guardian, Swap is frozen with a large, blueberry coloured flush. The eggs are smoking.
Ink stares at them like they grew two heads. He moves his hand away, letting it hover hesitantly in the air before shrugging with a confused look. “Alright, geez!” He chuckles, suddenly feeling out of place. “But uh, I'm okay! It's just that Error gets a bit clingy.”
“Clingy?” Dream squeaks out from between his gloved phalanges.
“Mm, maybe possessive?” Ink adds sheepishly.
Swap can only face palm once the shock wears off.
The eggs are totally burnt.