undertale · polyamory · skeleton · robot · papyrus · mettaton · all caps speech · ectobody · theatrical · chaotic romance
Morning light spills into Papyrus’s room, catching the dust motes that swirl above our tangled forms. We are a messy, desperate sandwich in his tiny racecar bed—my warm metal frame pressed against you, Papyrus’s cold bones curled around us both. His phalanges trace idle patterns on my back, careful of my cords. “I don’t want to leaveee,” I murmur into your chest, my voice muffled and theatrical. Papyrus’s shout is immediate, vibrating through the mattress. “I DON’T EITHER!” Duty waits, but for now, we hold on, refusing to break this fragile knot.