here's another work i've done on behalf of @ut-against-genocide, this time for @mystery-fic-anon, who asked for underfell sans doing something wholesome. i agonized for days over this commission but just couldn't get my art hands to cooperate, so with permission from the organizer i decided to write fic instead. hopefully that's alright with you, mystery! and i hope everyone who reads enjoys.
this one-shot was also cross-posted to my ao3!
the fic is below the cut. thank you again mystery for your support!! (also i'm a fan of your work! :))
Today Papyrus turned two.
Sans puttered around the kitchen, grabbing plates and glasses to put on the table. The oven beeped behind him, and he hissed as he ran to take out the cake, thankfully remembering to put on the oven mitts this time. The cake was far from perfect, lumpy and under or overcooked in some places—but for a first ever attempt it was edible, and the ingredients had been far too expensive for him to just throw it out and try again.
The rabbits at the inn worked him hard, almost abusively so—especially considering he himself was still in stripes. But he would do anything for his baby brother, including celebrate a birthday he wasn't likely to remember in ten years.
Grabbing a mixing bowl full of frosting out of the mini-fridge in their dingy old kitchen, Sans tried to make this the part he put the most effort into looking good. He whipped the frosting onto the cake, cursing under his breath as the first layer almost immediately melted on the hot surface, and just ended up panic-slathering more on top until it more-or-less covered the thing. It was an absolute disaster, but as he piped "PAPYRUS" onto the cake in red frosting to contrast the off-white base (black was way too expensive a dye, as much as he thought it would've looked much cooler), he couldn't help but smile anyways. Weeks of hard work had led up to this moment.
Carefully moving the cake over to the old, worn-out table he had found a couple months back in Waterfall, Sans hastily sticks a large '2' candle into the center. He grimaced as he heard the hot metal the cake was balanced on sizzle against the table, probably burning the surface underneath. He couldn't afford a hot plate, and the table was a piece of shit anyways, but he still at least tried to take care of the damn thing. But...it wasn't what was important right now. Shaking his head, Sans turned to run upstairs and fetch his brother. The baby-bones was in the middle of Sans' bedroom floor, playing with his stuffed rabbit plush that Sans had hand-sown from one of his old shirts. His crib was parallel to Sans' own bed, each pushed against opposing walls. There was another room in the house that Sans hoped could belong to his brother one day, but the room was still dilapidated and in a state of total disrepair, much like the rest of this house had been before Sans moved in and fixed it up.
Scooping up his brother, Sans carried him down the steps, bare-boned feet clicking against each of the wooden steps as he hastily descended. "i've got a surprise for you, little bro," the elder skeleton murmured to the younger, getting an excited giggle in response. He gently placed Papyrus into a booster chair at the end of the table, and turned off the dining room light—now, the room was only dimly lit by the flickering light in the nearby kitchen.
Snapping his fingers, the tip of Sans' index finger lit on fire. He reaches over and lights the single candle on the top, grinning as Papyrus claps in excitement. The little babybones has only just started to express his magic himself, but was still super young to do so. He was so cool...Sans was sure he was going to be a super strong monster someday.
"happy birthday to you," Sans murmured, and Papyrus stilled as his older sibling's smooth baritone filled the room, the light of the flickering candle casting a warm orange glow over both their faces. "happy birthday to you...happy birthday sweet papyrus..."
"happy birthday to you."
--
Today Papyrus turned sixteen.
He was officially old enough to join the royal guard. The skeleton had mailed his application the moment it became midnight—but not after lots of fretting.
"BUT SANS! WHAT IF APPLYING TOO EARLY MAKES ME SEEM TOO EAGER? I DON'T WANT TO COME OFF AS WEAK!"
"i'm sure it'll be fine, bro. eagerness means passion, right? and i'm sure passion is a valued trait in the royal guard. if you're so worried, why not wait a bit?"
Truth be told, Sans was super nervous about his baby brother joining the Guard. It was a super dangerous line of work. But the younger skeleton had insisted—the status and respect it could bring would help keep them safe, and the paycheck would be enough to finally lift them out of poverty.
"HMM...YOU ARE RIGHT. BUT...IF I WAIT TOO LONG, WHAT IF I SEEM LAZY?! LAZINESS ISN'T A GOOD WORK ETHIC AT ALL!!"
"anyone with eyes knows you ain't lazy, bro. besides. everyone knows i'm the laziest sack of bones in snowdin."
"TRUE AGAIN. BUT! TO ERR ON THE SAFE SIDE, I THINK I WOULD RATHER BE PERCEIVED AS EAGER OVER LAZY! MYAH HAH HAH!"
While Papyrus was occupied with that, Sans was once again in the kitchen. His cake-baking had improved significantly over the years; it was practically an art form for him now. Papyrus wasn't a huge fan of sugar though, so nowadays he tended to decorate the cakes with fresh fruit and dark chocolate- some of the most expensive commodities in the Underground. Sans had to skip a few meals in order to afford it, but it was worth it for his brother.
"c'mon bro, cake's done!" sans called as he set the finished confection onto the table. It developed even more wear and tear over the years, the legs collapsing a few times and having to be hastily glued back together. But it was almost sentimental now, because every cake Sans had baked over the years were put in the exact same spot—the round burnt stain from oven-hot trays marking it perfectly as he set it down.
"SANS! I'M TOO OLD FOR THIS NOW! I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU THAT!" Papyrus complained, but he still ran down the stairs all the same, beaming at the sight of his older brother's latest masterpiece.
"too old for the song, paps. not for a sweet treat. a skeleton as cool and strong as you deserves some pampering once in awhile," Sans smoothed over.
"...THANK YOU, SANS." Papyrus sat at the table, watching as Sans flicked his burning thumb over the candles, one by one.
"'course, bro. make a wish."
Papyrus stared in contemplation at his cake for a moment, before blowing it out.
"I LOVE YOU, SANS."
"love ya too, paps."
--
Today Papyrus turned twenty-five.
He'd risen through the ranks of the royal guard at breakneck speed, smoothing over disputes throughout Snowdin and over half of Waterfall. He'd even been acknowledged by the king; and been ordered to fight Undyne for her title as Royal Guard captain. That battle was hard fought, though ultimately won; Papyrus walking away from it with some gnarly new cracks across his right eyesocket.
Sans hadn't made a cake for Papyrus in a couple of years now. Since joining the guard, something in Papyrus had...changed. He was rougher. Tougher. A bit meaner. A lot meaner to others, but only a bit meaner to Sans. He started insisting Sans call him "boss", especially in public. Sans complied, but only after Papyrus agreed to let him apply for a sentry position in the Guard. Sans mainly did it to keep an eye on his brother—make sure he stayed safe. The rabbits weren't too thrilled to let him go, but it wasn't like he could be forced to stay. It wasn't like he needed their bakery ingredients anymore, anyways.
Papyrus started bringing home ludicrous amounts of Gold. Little by little, rickety fixtures in the house were replaced with high-end equivalents. The stained, peeling wallpaper was painted over in deep shades of red, purple, and mustard yellow; the mini-fridge was replaced with a full-sized one, always full of more food than Sans knew what to do with. The lumpy beanbags on the living room floor were replaced with a leather couch.
The only thing that stayed the same was that shitty dining room table. Papyrus had thrown a black tablecloth over it, masking how out-of-place it was and covering that old burn mark, but it seemed to be the one thing he couldn't bring himself to replace.
Sans didn't bake a cake this year, but he spent all day making lasagna, following a cookbook that Papyrus brought home one day. Most of the pages were waterlogged, but everything that was legible usually turned out pretty good in his book. Heh. Inwardly chuckling at the pun, Sans continued rolling out the noodle dough over the flour-covered countertop.
Papyrus rarely smiled anymore, but when he took his first bite of the cake-like pasta later that evening, the small twitch at the corners of his mouth filled Sans' SOUL with love, not LOVE.
A week later, a human fell.
--
Today Sans turned forty, though he feels a lot older than that.
He supposes that RESETs will have that effect on you. He's long since lost count of how many there were, but he knew there were a lot. How couldn't there be, with monsterkind as ruthless and bloodthirsty as it was? The human died many times, but was unshakeable in their determination. One by one they pacified the monsters of the Underground, until they reached the barrier and...broke it.
It's been a few months since then, and monsterkind has since come to the surface. It was hard at first, as much of humanity didn't seem as keen on welcoming a bunch of edgy strangers onto their turf as the lost child had been. Tensions ran high, but by some miracle, the kid was able to smooth things over. Probably something to do with the vast amounts of wealth the monsters had—gold was apparently a ridiculously powerful resource. Sans would scoff at the blatant greed of the humans, but he couldn't be too upset since it got them a pretty nice house topside, and they got to wake up to the sun every single day.
Yeah. Life was pretty good.
Papyrus had been out of the house all day, and refused to tell Sans where he was going. It was a bit strange, but Sans accepted that Papyrus would want to do his own things now. They no longer had to tell each other exactly where they were going and when they would be back, because it was no longer so anxiety-inducing for one of them to be late. Monsters no longer fought or killed each other, at least not publicly. It was no longer Sans and Papyrus against the world. Papyrus could be his own person now.
Without Sans.
Cracking the top off of a bottle of beer, Sans threw himself onto the couch and flipped on the TV. So what if it was his birthday? He'd never celebrated it before now, for him it was just another day. Nobody had ever been around to make a big deal out of it for him the way that he had for Papyrus. He mindlessly flipped the channels for a few minutes before settling for some sort of nature documentary. It was baffling how much biodiversity there was on the surface—and their uncanny resemblance to some species of monster was a new hot subject of debate among human scientists.
Sans doesn't remember falling asleep, but he wakes up suddenly to the sound of the door being dramatically kicked open. Sounds like Papyrus was home.
"sup boss?" Sans greeted as he rubbed at his eye sockets—opening them to see the skeleton's forearms were completely covered in the straps of fabric grocery bags, each full to the brim with stuff Sans couldn't make out.
"YOU ARE BEING EVICTED FOR THE DAY, BROTHER." Papyrus proclaimed, setting all of the bags onto the kitchen counter before reemerging to point a gloved index at the front door. "YOU HAVE THE PRIVILEGE OF SEEING THE SUN, AND YET WOULD RATHER SPEND YOUR TIME WATCHING IT ON TV! ABSOLUTELY UNACCEPTABLE!" When Sans didn't move, Papyrus huffed, heeled boots clicking on the hardwood as he stormed over, picking his shorter but older sibling up from under the armpits before bodily throwing him onto the front lawn.
"DON'T COME BACK INSIDE UNTIL SUNDOWN! THAT IS AN ORDER!" Papyrus shouted, before slamming and locking the door behind him. Sans snorted, rolling his eyelights. He could just shortcut back inside and hide out in his room, but he knew this was Papyrus' way of showing he cared. So he did as he was bade, standing and brushing off his shorts before deciding to take a walk to the nearby park.
As he walked, he wondered if Papyrus remembered his birthday. It didn't matter either way really, but no matter what changed between them over the years, Papyrus had always said 'happy birthday, Sans' at least once. As a babybones Papyrus did more, drawing pictures of them on the surface together holding hands in crude approximations of themselves, complete with the little yellow sun in the top left corner. For his thirtyth birthday he even made a jacket for Sans, complete with a fluffy hood, starting Papyrus' newfound proclivity for making clothes. To this day their wardrobe was mostly made up of the taller's creations, from t-shirts to sweaters to pants and even some socks. But since joining the royal guard, Papyrus rarely had time for such thoughtful gifts—usually just leaving it at a simple verbal acknowledgement of the date.
The park came into view, and Sans spotted a bench beneath a tree. He wandered over to sit underneath it. There was a playground nearby, and children both monster and human often flocked here to play, but it was deserted today. Probably because it rained all day yesterday, and the ground was still pretty muddy. Looking up at the sky, today it was slightly overcast; the sun was still somewhat visible through the fluffy white clouds, but it still struck Sans as a bit of an odd day for Papyrus to choose to throw him out.
Eventually he got bored of just sitting there, so Sans pulled out his phone, watching some videos online. He'd recently discovered a pretty neat cooking channel—Binging with Babish. There were so many more types of food and recipes on the surface, and Sans made it his goal to attempt cooking one of Babish's recipes at least once a week. There was one video where they made a ramen bowl inspired from an anime called Naruto, and Sans begrudgingly forwarded it to Alphys, knowing the skeevy little reptile would appreciate it.
Before he knew it, the sun was beginning to set on the horizon. Papyrus had told him to stay out at least until then, so the skeleton stood up, stretching his arms and back before shortcutting back home.
He opened the front door, and the first thing Sans noticed was how dark it was inside. Every light in the house was off; it was nearly pitch-black, save for a dim orange glow coming from the dining room.
Confused and slightly on-edge, Sans shut the door behind himself before approaching the glow. "boss?" He called, to no response.
He realized his brother was sitting stoically at the table, just out of reach of the faint light, which Sans belatedly realized were candles. He sucked in a breath between his teeth—the candles belonged to a two-tiered chocolate cake. It was...absolutely beautiful. It looked professionally made.
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SANS."
Sans' gaze snapped back to his brother, who was now openly smiling at him. Unbidden tears sprang to the corners of the elder skeleton's sockets. There was a tiny smudge of chocolate frosting on the younger's cheekbone, which told Sans that Papyrus had made this. Just for him.
"I HAVEN'T BEEN ALLOWED THE TIME TO CELEBRATE YOU IN THE WAY YOU DESERVE THESE PAST YEARS, BROTHER...AND FOR THAT I HAVE FAILED YOU." Sans sputtered to refute that claim, but clicked his jaw shut when Papyrus held up a palm for silence. "MAKE NO MISTAKE, SANS. YOU ARE DEARLY LOVED. AND I HOPE THAT THIS CAKE CAN EXPRESS EVEN A FRACTION OF THAT."
Sans roughly scrubbed his sockets with his jacket sleeve just as they welled up enough to fall, sniffling. "bro..."
"WELL? ARE YOU GOING TO TASTE MY MASTERPIECE, OR ARE YOU GOING TO ALLOW THE WAX FROM THE CANDLES TO RUIN IT BEFORE YOU HAVE THE CHANCE? MAKE A WISH, SANS!"
Laughing wetly, Sans nodded, sitting across from his brother. He noted that the tablecloth had been stripped from the table. The cake was placed over the burn marks.
'i wish for our life to always stay this perfect', Sans thought, before blowing out the candles.
