Error sat outside of the main office. He wasn’t in trouble, was he? Had they found out about him and Ink? Were they upset with him? What had he gotten himself into? He shouldn’t have been fraternizing with that demon anyway!
The assistant walked out and smiled at Error, closing their empty eyes. They wore fancy white clothes, as all angels did. Flowing sleeves, ruffles, and a whole ton of layers.
“Error? Follow me.”
Error nodded and stood up. He followed the assistant into the doors. Their smile was menacingly sweet.
“I’m… not in trouble, am I?”
“Of course not!”
Ink crossed his legs and leaned back in the chair. He stared at his boss, Nightmare. He rolled his eyes, “What was so important that you had to drag me away from my duties? It’s not like you to do so.”
The king of all demons sighed, “I have a very, very important task for you.”
“Wow, an important task, and you choose me?!” Ink over-dramatically gasped, taking on a sweet but sarcastic tone. “Goodness, sir, I’m honored!”
“This is incredibly important. There’s a certain human we need you to take care of."
Ink leaned forward, smiling maliciously.
“So, angel, got any news from the nerds up above?” Ink motioned upwards with his hand, using the other to shake his boba tea slightly. His legs were crossed at the thigh, and the one on top was bouncing up and down.
“You say that like you’ve gotten news.” Error closed the book he was reading, setting it gently down on the bench. He crossed his legs at the ankle and glanced at the demon sitting beside him.
“I may have. Have you?”
“By any chance,” Sunglasses slid down Ink’s nose. “Did you hear anything about a neutral being?”
“Ah, we have the same job, then.”
“We can’t flirt this time. As soon as I arrive, Nightmare’s gonna be up my ass twenty-four seven.”
“‘Flirting’? That’s what you call terrorizing me?”
“I have a different tone when I terrorize people! Nightmare knows that, so if he sees us- sorry, me, flirting, I’ll get…” Ink motioned slitting his own throat. “Y’know?”
“I’m guessing the dweebs up there want you to get him up there?”
“And the idiots below want to get him?”
“Yep! Hey, what do you think all the fuss is about? I mean, he seems normal, right?”
By the time Paperjam was five, he was already doodling on the walls. He smiled at his parents, Aster and Gaster, as they looked at the mural he had drawn. There were swirls and patterns dancing around the walls, seemingly fighting. It was… brilliant. It was well composed and well-drawn (for a five-year-old).
It happened again, a couple of years later. When Paperjam was ten, he had gotten permission from his parents to paint the walls in his room.
That’s when Ink was called in. Ink, Paperjam’s art tutor, was to help him hone his art skills and his focus.
Paperjam wasn’t very good at math. Terrible, in fact! He was just as terrible at talking with people..
That’s where Error came in.
Error, surprisingly, was good with kids. He came around every so often to help Paperjam with math and learning more social cues. He slipped in some lessons about being kind.
To Paper (Error’s nickname), Ink and Error’s relationship was… wrong. Somehow. He didn’t know, but why it was… wrong.
Ink, whenever he saw Error, which, weirdly, was often, glared. Error glared back.
But they both had a loving look in their eyes. A bizarrely intense loving look.
“Why do you look at Ink like that?” Paperjam had asked Error.
“Whatever do you mean?” Error responded before taking a sip of his tea.
“You look at him like you hate him, but literally everything else you do and say implies the opposite. You like him, don’t you?”
Error instinctively jerked backward and got tea up his nose. He left.
He brought up the same question to Ink. He had the same reaction. He, after spilling his bottle full of the stuff he was named after (which he drank) found a piece for Paperjam to play instead of leaving.
Ink ended up sending Error a very cursed image, their indication of one of them wanting to meet up or talk. Error called. Ink picked up.
“What do you want?”
“Did PJ ask you about your feelings for me?”
“He did for me, too. Are we really that obvious?”
“For humans, yeah.”
“I guess. Hey, wait,” Ink stopped and listened to Error’s end. He panicked, “What’s that sound?”
“It’s just boiling water, Ink. Don’t worry.”
“Oh yeah, I forgot that you actually eat. You know you don’t need to, right?”
“Yes. You remind me almost every day, paint-drinker.”
They met up. Error’s cats got fur in the water, so he had to toss it out anyway. They met in the park, as usual.
“You sure you’re okay with getting rid of the water?”
“Fofo ruined it. Why did you want to meet up so badly?”
“Hah. And, uh, I dunno. Is it wrong to want to see my angel?”
“With us being so closely watched, kind of."
“Don’t shoot down my line like that! I was proud of that!”
Error reached over and ruffled Ink’s fluffy hair. Ink took that as an invitation and kissed the poor angel.
Ink, as an apology for letting Error’s cats ruin his dinner, got dragged to a restaurant.
“Angel, you coulda just asked me to dinner. You’re gonna break my hand if you drag me around too much.”
“Would you have agreed?”
“Of course I would have! Anyway, here, take this.” Ink handed Error a glow stick. Ink held up his own, which was shaped like a sword. “Cheers.”
Okay, he’s just being quirky. Error did the same and snapped the glow stick, but when Ink snapped his, it was clean in half. Ink tilted his head back and downed the contents.
Ink, sweetie, there's glass in there.
Error was sitting on his couch, head in his hands. Ink sat next to him, laughing hysterically while leaning back.
“Hot stuff, I hate you.”
“The look on your face was PRICELESS.”
“I was terrified, asshole! The waiter was terrified!”
Ink’s laughter got more intense. So intense that he fell off the couch. The cats came over and licked his face. That made Ink laugh more.
“I hate you, weasel.”
“I love you too, angel.”
“I drank a glow stick, of course, I’m dumb! You’re the one who first asked me out.”
“I know and I regret it.”
Error had to walk Ink home. Ink was drunk. Error had to drag him away from the street multiple times.
“Aw, what? I won’t die! I’ll just get a little discorporated! I wanna go in the street!”
“That’s just as bad.”
“You’re drunk, weasel!”
“Just a liiiittle!”
“Well, how mad will your boss be if you get discorporated?”
“So if I do get discorporated, he’ll yell at me and I’ll probably get in big trouble?”
“And that’ll mean?”
“I won’t get to see my angel,” lnk muttered.
“Exactly! We both don’t want that, right?”
“How long have you and Monsieur Ink been dating?” Paperjam asked, using the name Ink had told him to use.
Error shook his head. “We’re not dating. And don’t call him that, it makes sound him huma… normal. He drinks carbonated printer ink, he’s not normal.”
“Wait, he does?”
“What do you think is in his water bottles?”
“Wrong. Back to math. You’re doing well.”
Paperjam nodded, took his pencil in hand, and stared at the paper. He looked at the next problem. “So, if 3x + 25 is 325, 3x would be 300. So x is 100!”
“Monsieur Ink, how long have you and Error been dating?”
“Not dating. Pick up your flute.” Ink flipped through a bunch of sheet music.
“My dads say they saw you calling him pet names while drunkenly walking with him. They almost hit you.”
Ink stopped flipping through the papers. He turned to Paperjam. He opened his mouth, black ooze starting to drip from his lips and eyes. “Pick. up. the. flute.”
Paperjam held his ground. “No. Tell me about your relationship with Error.”
Ink, like his life was at stake, grumbled, “Can’t. I’m not dating him. Got it?”
“Hey, Dad, why are Ink and Error so… adamant about not talking about their relationship? They obviously love each other.”
Gaster looked at Paperjam, then to his husband. He smiled at Paperjam, “Well, kid, sometimes adults have stupid moments.”
“That’s underestimating it. But why do they not want me to know?”
“Have you asked them? Maybe they’re not supposed to talk about it.”
“What does that mean?”
“You’re reading Romeo and Juliet, right??”
“Why aren’t they allowed to date?”
“Because their families hated each other and Romeo fucking killed Juliet’s cousin?”
“Paperjam, language. But yes, that’s pretty much it!”
Error and Ink were having another stare-off. Paperjam decided to bring up his problem for both of them.
“So, why are you two not allowed to date? Is it like Romeo and Juliet?”
Ink went pale and his eyes widened. He covered his mouth, about to throw up.
Error, while his face got warm, scoffed, “We’re not dating because we don’t want to!”
“Y…yeah! I wouldn’t date Error- he’s not my type?”
“Then what’s with the pet names?”
“You can have pet names for friends!”
“What’s with the stares?”
“Ink’s hair is stupid.”
“Error’s eyes are pretty… pretty dumb.”
So… they’re not allowed to talk about it around me? Or maybe in the house? Paperjam thought, staring up at his ceiling. He popped up, an idea forming, and ran downstairs to his parents.
“Hey, Pops, Dad, could you test something for me?”
Aster sipped his tea, “I heard you asking them about it didn’t help.”
“It didn’t, at all! But can you ask them about it when I’m not around? Or when they’re not here?”
“Well, you said they were open about it outside, right?”
“Yes, but that doesn’t…”
“What if they can’t discuss it around me?”
“So, anyway Error, did you-“ Ink stopped when he felt Error grab one of his ears. “What… are you doing?”
“Your ears are pointy.”
“Uh, yeah? Why are you grabbing them?”
“I never noticed how pointy they were…” Error muttered, rubbing the tips of his demonic boyfriend’s sharp ears, watching as said partner’s face turned vibrant.
“Yes, my ears are pointy, let go!”
“You’re very flustered because of this.”
“I know, so let go! Or I’ll bite you!”
“Bite me, huh? But, what if I…” Error leaned forward and kissed Ink. Seconds later, Error was cradling an angry, embarrassed weasel.
There's no Ink here, just a very pissed weasel.
“Paperjam, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“What if something’s preventing them from talking about their relationship with me?!”
“Why would they not be able to talk about it around you?”
“Well, I dunno! You’re the adult here! Adult reasons?”
“They have reasons. I think it’s rather rude to pry into their lives, kiddo.”
“Okay, but dad, I have to know!” Paperjam threw his hands up, frustrated.
“Why don’t you ask them when they’re not here? Like if we see them at the mall or something?”
“How are you so sure that will work?”
“Just try it, kiddo."
After a week of pestering the two, Paperjam finally found the star-crossed lovers outside of the house. They were at a tea place together, Ink pointing haphazardly at Error while yelling about something or another. Error was staring at the flute instructor, his eyes filled to the edge with pure affection. It was so unlike the expression they both failed to fake around Paperjam.
But, said kid's parents had to run off for a moment, and Paperjam was alone…
Ink’s tea slipped out of his hands while Error shot up.
“This isn’t what it looks like, we swear!”