Chapter 1: Surprise Party (G)
Queenofbuscuits asked: “ okay how about Edge/Reader with 99?”
The line is “How could you forget your son’s birthday?”
This is a hypothetical future chapter of Captain Tantrum. Edge goes by Papyrus in that fic, so yeah. Remember, this is not canon to that fic, since we haven’t had a gender reveal yet!
The park was lovely and bright on this late summer day. You and your son, Daniel, walked hand in hand along the bank of the large pond and marveled at the wildlife all around you. Daniel wanted to reach in and touch a fish, and you let him so long as he didn’t fall in or get too wet.
The strangest thing about the day was that Papyrus had suggested you two go to the park for a few hours this morning. He even drove you out, saying he would be back to get you after he put in a few hours at work.
You were a little miffed; today was your shared birthday with your son. Every other year, Papyrus had woken you up with breakfast in bed or some other extravagance to mark the day. He almost always took the day off.
Today being a Saturday was even weirder, as he didn’t work on the weekends. He was unusually busy this time of year, but that didn’t mean things had to change on your damn birthday.
To make things even worse, your son was turning ten years old today. It was a landmark birthday in your opinion; he’d just hit two digits. He was officially a preteen.
“D’you think Dad’s planning a party?” Daniel asked, swinging your hand in his.
You shrugged. You surely hoped so, even though he hadn’t said a damn thing about either of your birthdays this week.
“Perhaps,” you answered, squeezing his bony fingers.
Your son had taken the best parts of his parents and mixed them together in the best way. He was mostly fleshy over his body, thin and angular but still adorable. His face was covered in a sort of magical flesh that left his skull visible with crimson eye lights and sharp teeth like his dad. His hands and feet were left bare bone.
“Maybe he just forgot.” Daniel sighed unhappily.
You were going to beat your husband for this. Nobody upset your son on his birthday, not even his father.
You did your best to distract him with the ducks and geese nearby. You didn’t have anything to feed them, but you were still able to get close enough to watch a few ducks bathing. Daniel was enthralled with how they moved and how the water slid so easily off their feathers.
A while later, you finally got a text from Papyrus saying he was coming to get you.
After you got settled in the car, Papyrus leaned over and gave you a kiss. You accepted it haltingly.
“Did you two have fun?” he asked.
“Yeah, it was okay,” Daniel answered. “I got to touch a fish!”
You cleared your throat. “So, what do we have planned for today?” you asked pointedly.
Papyrus glanced at you before settling his attention back on the road. “I have a bit more work I need to finish, but I was able to bring it home. You two, of course, are welcome to do whatever you like. Do we still need to do back-to-school shopping for him? Perhaps you could take him later.”
You sighed. “Please tell me you know what today is.”
“Yes, of course,” he answered blandly. “Today is Saturday, August seventeenth.”
“And does that date mean anything to you?” you pressed.
Okay. You were going to kill him. No big deal. You groaned and ran your hands through your hair. You didn’t want to yell at him with your son in the backseat, but you had to say something.
“Forgetting my birthday is one thing, Papyrus, but how could you forget your son’s birthday?”
Papyrus looked at you, then glanced in the backseat at your pouting son. The look on his face was heartbreaking. How could Papyrus not feel something at that?
“Of course I didn’t forget, y/n. It’s next week, on the twenty-fourth, just as it was last year.”
You glared at him. “Last year it was the seventeenth of August, and it’s the same this year. I should know, I spent thirteen hours in labor with that boy!”
“And I was by your side every second. It was the twenty-fourth. You were in labor; it must have been--”
“Don’t you even dare finish that sentence, Papyrus.”
You huffed and crossed your arms. Forgetting your birthday was irritating but forgivable under the right circumstances. Forgetting your son’s birthday, however, was irredeemable. He’d never been like this before! He was always so on top of things; you never even needed to drop a hint about Valentine's or your anniversary. What the hell was going on that he forgot this?
Papyrus sighed as he pulled into the driveway. The house was dark and quiet, and your mood soured even more. You would make this up to your son. You would.
“I don’t understand why you’re making this out to be such a big deal,” Papyrus said as he turned off the car and got out. He opened the back door for Daniel who sprinted to your side.
Your put your arm around him and hugged him tightly, giving him a sweet kiss on the top of his head.
You didn’t bother giving him an answer. Instead, you made your way to the front door. Your realized as you tried to open the door that you’d left your keys at home. Just great; you had to wait for Papyrus to unlock it.
As soon as the door opened, you pushed your way past your husband and into the house. All of the lights were off. That was...unusual. You almost always left at least a lamp on so there’d be light when you got home from your daily activities.
Daniel reached over and flipped the switch to turn on the living room lights.
All of a sudden, people jumped out from behind the couch, chair, doors...it seemed people appeared out of nowhere. All of your friends and Daniel’s classmates that he got along with.
“SURPRISE!” they shouted in tandem. “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”
“Oh my god, I knew it!” Daniel shouted. “I knew it, Mom!”
You turned to look at Papyrus, a stupidly smug look on his face. He leaned in and kissed you.
“Happy birthday, love,” he said softly. “Daniel mentioned last year that he wished he could have had a surprise birthday party. I know you’re not exactly thrilled by the idea, but I couldn’t very well give him one, pretending all day that nothing was going on while still pampering you. I’m sorry if I upset you.”
Daniel was already gone, out somewhere playing with his friends. The others were all mingling together, a few came up to you and wished you a happy birthday.
You’d be lying if you said your eyes weren’t feeling a bit misty.
“You did upset me,” you admitted. It was probably obvious. You leaned up and kissed him, then snuggled into him as he wrapped his arms around you. “But you also made up for it. Thank you, baby.”
Chapter 2: Smile (T)
This one has a depiction of a panic attack with no real cause. Hurt/Comfort.
Cyanidecupcake asked: “Just smile, I really need to see you smile right now.” Spicyhoney?
It was a bad one. The kind that left Stretch’s vision blurry and his world crowding around him too tightly, everything was too tight, too close, too loud...He couldn’t breathe.
The worst part was that he didn’t even know what had set it off. He’d just been getting coffee. There were no loud noises, no creepy children, nobody shouting slurs or threats. Nothing. He was just fine one second, then all of a sudden, he was smacked upside the head with an anxiety attack so strong he nearly fell to his knees.
The barista, Sarah, knew him by name. He’d been coming here for years now. They knew enough about each other that idle chatter was easy when he’d come in. What she didn’t know was that while he was okay with casual touches most of the time, anxiety attacks made everything too small and he couldn’t even teleport to get away.
“Stretch? What’s wrong, honey?” she asked, crouching next to him. When had he sunk down to the ground? He couldn’t say, but here he was, sitting with his back to the counter and his knees drawn up to his chest. He clutched them tightly, his knuckles burning with the force of his grip.
“What can I do? Can I call someone for you?” She put a hand on his shoulder, a usually comforting gesture.
Stretch barely managed to squeak out a scream as he scrambled away, summoning an attack. He heard several gasps around him, murmurs of people wondering to each other what they should do to help the girl.
Somehow, he was able to calm down enough to dismiss the attack. He closed his eyes tightly for a second and dug his phone out of his pocket. He tossed it to Sarah, choking out a faint “call edge” and hoping she would know what he meant.
She did. She knew Edge, though not as well as she did Stretch.
As she made the call, Stretch slid himself a short distance across the floor to a corner where he’d be out of the way. He still felt too cramped, but he couldn’t go anywhere. A monster freaking out like this out in public was just begging for trouble, and he didn’t have the HP to spare. All he could do was sit there and wait for his boyfriend to come get him.
“He’s on his way,” Sarah said softly, holding his phone back out to him. When he didn’t move to take it, she set it gently on the floor beside him. “Do you want me to sit with you?”
He shook his head. He wanted to be alone, somewhere in a dark closet would be nice. Shut away from the rest of the world.
She nodded. “Okay. I’m going to get back to work then, okay?”
He didn’t respond to that. Some part of him, deep down inside, knew he was going to regret everything about this trip. He would feel embarrassed about having an anxiety attack in front of so many strangers. He’d feel bad for not thanking Sarah for trying to help.
But for now, all he could feel was the ever-growing need to get away.
And then Edge showed up.
The moment Stretch saw that handsome face, he scrambled to his feet and threw himself into Edge’s arms. Edge caught him easily, lifting him off the ground and into his hard embrace.
“You’re okay, Stretch,” he murmured. “I’ve got you. You’re safe.”
Stretch nodded against his shoulder but didn’t say anything. He just closed his eyes and let himself cry as Edge took him home.
Once home, Edge sat him on the couch and wrapped him up in a soft, plush blanket before going to make some tea. When he came back with it, he sat next to Stretch and pulled him into a comforting embrace.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
Stretch shrugged. “i don’t know.”
“You must be feeling a little better; you can speak now.”
He wasn’t wrong. Stretch’s vision was a bit clearer now, and he didn’t feel like the world itself was trying to swallow him.
“Do you know what happened?”
“no.” Stretch sipped at his tea, wincing as it burnt his mouth. It was good; it felt real.
“Is there anything I can do?”
He thought about that for a long moment. Edge was always there for him, always. He looked up to see Edge watching him with a grim expression. He didn’t look angry, but it wasn’t hard for Stretch’s insecurities to take it that way. He’d been called out of whatever he’d been doing just to help his boyfriend through yet another panic attack. What a waste of his time.
He shook those thoughts away. Edge loved him.
“just smile,” he said softly. “i really need to see you smile right now.”
And Edge did, his mouth curving into the soft smile he always wore when Stretch did something cute for him. It softened his entire face, made him seem so much more open and tolerant.
“Anything for you,” he said, then leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Stretch’s forehead.
Yeah, he was going to be okay. He had an appointment with his therapist at the end of the week, and they’d talk about the panic attack. Until then, he had his baby to love him.
Chapter 3: Sandwich (G)
Keelywolfe asked: 100. “You can only suffer through my whining for so long until you get up and make me a sandwich.” For the Spicyhoney boys!
“pleeeeeease!” Stretch whined for the fourth time in as many minutes, drawing the word out far longer than necessary. “i’m so hungry!”
Edge didn’t even glance his way. “You know where the kitchen is.”
Stretch whimpered and kicked his feet against the couch cushions. “but i’m so comfy right here, all snuggled in my blankies.” His kicking had shifted the edge of the blanket up over his toes and he squirmed just enough to cover them again. “and besides, you make them so much better than i do.”
“Practice makes perfect.” Was all Edge replied.
“nooooo!” he groaned and whimpered again, looking at Edge’s back with the kind of puppy dog eyes that would surely get him a damn sandwich if Edge cared enough to look. “come on, babe. there’s no denying you’re just better at it than me, and i’ve had ten years more experience than you. just...come on!”
Edge sighed and finally turned to look at him. Stretch pouted at him, trying his best to look like a lost, hungry puppy.
“How long are you planning to do this?”
“as long as it takes. you can only suffer through my whining for so long until you get up and make me a sandwich.” Experience had taught him that well.
“I could take you upstairs and deposit you in bed. You’d have to get up to come back down and bug me, and therefore you’d have no excuse but to make your own sandwich.”
Stretch pouted again. “but would you really do that to me?” He forced his eye lights to widen a bit, tried to look as innocent and needy as possible. Edge couldn’t resist it.
“Yes.” He turned back around to face his desk. “Let me finish a few things first. Think about what kind of sandwich you want.”
“you already know what i want.”
Edge groaned. “You’re going to make me cook?”
Smiling to himself, Stretch snuggled deeper into the blankets and let himself relax. “it’s not my fault you make the best grilled cheese sandwiches.” Besides, it wasn’t like Edge didn’t absolutely enjoy cooking. He probably had much wilder plans for lunch, but Stretch wanted simple.
He knew how this would go. Edge would make one for himself, and then they’d cuddle together on the couch while they watched Netflix. It was the perfect plan.
“Yes, I suppose I did do this to myself, didn’t I?”
Stretch watched as he began to put his things away and tidy up his desk before he stood up and pushed the chair in. As he walked past the couch, he bent down to plant a sweet kiss on Stretch’s skull.
“It’s a good thing I love you.”
“love you too, babe,” he called out, then relaxed and pulled the blanket up to his chin to await his prize.
Chapter 4: Costume (G)
Crysta-cub asked: Spicyhoney #38
The line is: “Why can’t you appreciate my sense of humor?”
“ta-daaa!” Stretch sang as he came out of the bathroom. He spun in a circle to show off the costume he’d picked out.
Edge looked him over for a moment before raising an eyebrow. “What exactly is it that I’m looking at?”
The question made his smile fall. How could Edge not know what he was looking at?
“isn’t it obvious?” he asked. “here, this might help.” He slipped the mask on and struck a pose.
Through the mesh-covered eye holes, he saw Edge nod. “So you’re Spiderman?”
“spider--!” Stretch huffed and ripped off the mask. “edge, do you seriously not know who deadpool is?”
Edge hummed. “Oh, yes. I remember that movie now. It was alright.”
Stretch groaned and staggered forward dramatically to lean into Edge as if he was losing his strength. “why can’t you appreciate my sense of humor?”
Edge wrapped his arms around Stretch, holding him up easily. “I do appreciate it, love. Most of the time. I’m sorry that I didn’t know which character you were cosplaying. This costume is very similar to Spiderman.”
It was just a simple fact that Edge wasn’t into superhero movies, even ones as awesome as Deadpool. He’d gone on an entire rant after the first Avengers movie that the amount of economic damage was irresponsible and, at least most of the time, avoidable.
Stretch supposed he’d grown up having to be the hero instead of dreaming about being one, and he couldn’t quite appreciate the idea of having the few stand up for the many when he already did that.
It was just one of the many things he loved about Edge.
“i’ll forgive you this time,” he said softly, putting his weight back on his own two feet. “but you’re still going to come with me, right?”
Edge nodded. “Of course. How else am I going to keep you safe?”
Comic-Con wasn’t that dangerous, but Stretch let him get away with it because there were going to be a lot of humans there. His baby would feel more comfortable being there just on the off chance that something did happen.
That was alright. Stretch was pretty sure Edge would find something to geek out over anyway.
Chapter 5: Adventures at Comic-Con (T)
This is not actually part of the drabble thing. A comment on the previous chapter on Tumblr forced my hand. I couldn't not write this! Also, I have been to a grand total of one comic-con in my life, so this may or may not be anything like what a real one is.
Small warning for mild sexual harassment toward a cosplayer; not our skellies.
Crysta-cub said: “Now I'm hungry to see their comic con adventures... I fear something bad would happen. Would Stretch convince Edge to dress up at all? (Seems like a stretch to me hehe) Would people mistake him as Skeletor or something? It'll be a mad house. How would Edge handle the crowds? I imagine it'll keep him on edge (heh) the entire time (especially if its his first one)”
Edge really wasn’t sure about this whole thing. Stretch had assured him a hundred and five times that everything would be fine. This was his third time attending the event, and nothing bad had ever happened before.
In Edge’s opinion, that was just asking for trouble. He didn’t believe in jinxes, but he did believe in having a false sense of security, and Stretch had that in spades.
No matter. Edge would be there to ensure Stretch’s safety, regardless of whether or not anything bad happened.
“i really wish you would have dressed up,” Stretch pouted as they drove to the event center in the middle of Ebott City. It wasn’t the first time he’d whined about that. He’d tried to get Edge to dress up with him from the moment he first talked about the upcoming Comic Con. Edge’s answer was always a resounding ‘no.’ Stretch could have his fun; it simply wasn’t Edge’s idea of a good time.
“You already know my thoughts on that,” Edge replied.
Stretch’s only response was a wistful sigh.
Approaching the events center, it was becoming more and more obvious that Stretch wasn’t the only one who went all-out for their costumes. Walking down the street were all manner of people dressed in the wildest of things from full body armor and weapons to the barest of drapes covering only enough to be considered not fully naked.
“Why would a person choose to dress like that in public?” Edge asked curiously, considering a woman in a bronze bra and belt with a skirt that went to her feet and yet left her legs bare.
“that’s princess leia,” Stretch pointed out. “she’s dressed like that because she’s here to have fun and be her favorite character for a night. it’s not her fault the character was forced to wear that.”
Edge nodded, understanding a little better. He’d never had any desire to be anyone else, but he could respect that others saw the world differently.
Once they parked and got out, Stretch took a moment to put his mask on and adjust his costume. Edge smiled at him; he really did look nice in that costume. He’d had it tailored to him since it was supposed to be skin-tight on the human wearing it. It showed off Stretch’s slim build and his delectable height, all of two inches taller than Edge himself.
And then they were off, Stretch taking his hand and skipping along to keep up with Edge’s long strides. He had the urge to tell Stretch he looked ridiculous, but he kept it to himself. There was no way he was going to hurt Stretch’s feelings by implying that anything about tonight was childish or stupid. He’d gotten enough of that from his previous life underground, and Edge would be damned if anyone or anything was going to dampen his fun.
Almost as soon as they showed their tickets and entered the building, another person dressed like Stretch came up and asked for a picture of the two of them.
“see, edge, that’s spiderman,” Stretch said as he dug his phone out of the utility belt around his waist. He handed the phone to Edge in a silent request to take the picture.
There were obvious differences in the costumes, but Edge didn’t mention that those differences meant nothing to him. Instead, he took the picture when the two posed, then took another one with the other person’s phone.
“Thanks, man!” Spiderman said cheerfully.
Stretch took his phone back and put it away, then took Edge’s hand and pulled him into the throngs of people.
Immediately, Edge wanted to regret coming. There were so many people already there that it was hard to even see where they were going. As easily as Stretch seemed to slip between people, Edge was bumping into them and offering hasty apologies as he was tugged along.
At least Stretch was holding his hand, he thought. This way, he couldn’t get lost.
“it’ll be better once we get into the big hall,” Stretch called out. “it’s so crowded right now because this is a smaller area. just hang on.”
Edge did his best. He truly did not like being touched like this, even if it was him barreling his way through a crowd. He would much rather be at home or even at work locked in his office where the throngs were kept the fuck out.
He sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly, trusting Stretch to guide him to a more relaxing area.
In truth, navigating the crowd only took a few minutes. Soon enough, they passed through a set of double doors into a large open area where people were milling around with far more space between them. Edge breathed a sigh of relief and squeezed Stretch’s hand to let him know he was okay. Stretch squeezed back, then released Edge’s hand.
Edge followed a few paces behind, his hands folded behind his back as he just kept an eye on Stretch enjoying the event. He talked to people, took pictures, even danced with others dressed like him. He was adorably handsome and much easier to keep track of than Edge had first feared.
“Excuse me,” someone asked an hour or so later. Edge looked down to see a young teenage boy wearing a leather getup with a chain wrapped around his waist. His face had been painted to look like a skull on fire.
“Are you Ghost Rider too?” he asked, a hopeful lilt in his voice.
Edge furrowed his brow. “Who?”
The boy frowned. “Oh, uh...never mind. You look cool, though, whoever you’re supposed to be.”
With that, the kid took off.
Edge made a note to ask Stretch about Ghost Rider.
A little while later, a young girl dressed in a cute blue dress tugged on his jacket. He looked down at her and gave her what he hoped was a non-threatening smile.
“Hello there,” he said softly. The girl couldn’t be more than ten years old.
She smiled up at him. “Are you the Grim Reaper?” she asked.
“The what? No, of course not. Why would you think that?”
She sighed dejectedly and wandered off, back to where a couple were standing and waiting for her. Her parents, Edge supposed.
He sighed and turned to find Stretch talking to a few people dressed as various members of the X-Men. Once he was done, Edge pulled him aside.
“Why would someone think I’m the Grim Reaper?” he asked.
Stretch’s facial expressions were hidden behind the mask, but Edge heard the confusion in his voice.
“who said that?”
“A little girl, just a few minutes ago.”
“oh!” His laughter was hard to hide despite the mask. “babe, you just look like a badass skeleton, and that’s how some people see the grim reaper. she didn’t mean anything like you’re actually going to kill anyone or reap any souls, just that you look cool.”
Edge nodded. He supposed that made sense, but it was still disconcerting.
All too soon, Stretch was swept up by another group of cosplayers who wanted to talk to him. Edge was content to stand back and just keep an eye on him.
As Stretch mingled and Edge stayed only close enough to ensure his safety, other event attendees milled around, some stopping to talk to Edge for a moment. Most of them were curious to know what he was dressed as. One person called him Skeletor. He wasn't sure who that was, either, though he thought they had a cool name. A few were disappointed that he wasn’t anything at all, while many seemed somehow fascinated that he was just himself.
One man who stopped to talk to him was dressed from head to foot in black leather, his jacket studded, and a thick, silver chain wrapped crosswise over his body. Apparently, he was Ghost Rider as well.
As they were talking, a young woman with fiery red hair came up and waved awkwardly. She was dressed in a more revealing costume, leaves covering only half of her ample bosom and her hips with a few scattered in her hair. Her shoes were tall green heels, but even in them her head didn’t reach Edge’s shoulders.
“Hi!” she grinned widely. “I’m Emily. Um, so I’m sorry if this is really awkward, but could I maybe get a picture with you?”
Edge frowned. “With me?”
She nodded frantically. “Yeah! It’s just, I’m from out of town and I’ve been trying to get as many pictures with monsters as I can to prove to everyone at home that you guys are actually really cool and not scary.”
He had to have misheard that. Him? Not scary?
“My husband is around here somewhere; he’d be a far better option for you.” He started looking around for Stretch’s red mask rising above the crowd, only now realizing that he’d lost sight of him..
“Excuse you?” Emily said, her tone appalled. She was looking at the man, Wesley, with a disgusted frown.
Wesley gave her a cheeky grin. “What?” He reached out and tugged on a leaf at her breast. “If I pluck one will they all fall down?”
“Ew, no; don’t touch me, you pervert!”
“It’s not my fault,” Wesley looked up at Edge, “she’s bein’ a tease, ain’t she?”
Edge furrowed his brow. “How is she teasing you? She made her point clear; you shouldn’t touch her.”
Wesley rolled his eyes. “Then why the hell is she wearing that?” He reached out again to grab a leaf, only this time from her waist near her backside.
Edge caught his wrist and pulled him back probably harder than necessary. “You know why she’s wearing that; the same reason anyone here is wearing what they are. She’s here to have fun, and you’re ruining it for her. Keep your hands to yourself.”
“She’s asking to be touched!”
“Is she now? Let me ask you something; what do you think most people would associate with the amount of leather you’re wearing? It’s not a comic book or a movie, I can assure you. Are you asking to be dominated and whipped? Perhaps choked? I know a guy; I could set you up.”
Wesley had gone pale, his eyes widened with fear and the pain of having his wrist nearly crushed in Edge’s grip.
“No thank you?” he finally managed to squeak.
“Then leave her and the rest of the women here alone. They are not here for your enjoyment. Am I clear?”
Edge let him go, pushing him away. He stumbled off somewhere, and Edge turned back to Emily. She was looking up at him with wide eyes, but she didn’t look scared.
“Oh my god, thank you,” she breathed. “I’m used to guys like him being all creepy, but no one’s ever stood up for me like that. Not ever.”
The thought made Edge even angrier. He sucked in a breath and let it out, calming himself. There wasn’t anything he could do about past or future harassers, only the present.
“You should never have to put up with them. Now, about your picture; my husband is--”
“right here,” Stretch interrupted. He flung his arms around Edge’s shoulders and leaned in to press his masked teeth against Edge’s.
Edge wrapped his arms around his waist but leaned back from the kiss. “I’d rather not kiss that mask,” he said, disgruntled.
Stretch laughed and pulled the mask off before kissing him properly.
“i saw you, just now,” he confessed. “that was pretty damn hot.”
Edge couldn’t help the blush that crept up his cheekbones.
“It really was,” Emily agreed.
Edge cleared his throat. “Yes, well, it was necessary. Stretch, I’d like you to meet Emily. Emily, this is Stretch. She would like a picture with you.”
Emily raised a hand awkwardly. “Actually, could I get one with both of you?”
“you have been expertly dodging the pics all day, babe. it’s about time you got in one.”
In the end, Edge wasn’t able to talk his way out of it. He held Stretch close and opted not to smile for the camera. He’d been told before that his smile was more creepy than it was comforting, and he’d rather not scare Emily’s friends more than he had to.
Shortly after Emily got her pictures and went on her way, Stretch took his hand.
“hey, there’s something i want to show you.”
He followed his husband without question. They moved around a large wall into another open area, this one set up with several booths and tables lining the entire room. Stretch led him to one table in particular.
Edge was a little surprised to see action figures from one of the shows he enjoyed watching with Stretch and the others. There was also art and clothing items set out for purchase. One piece of art in particular caught his eye, and he leaned in to get a better look.
“That’s one of my favorites,” the woman who sat behind the table said proudly. She was a tiny thing with black hair pulled up into pigtails and she wore a short black and lacy dress. “Hi, my name’s Corrine.” She held out her hand.
Edge reached out hesitantly, giving her time to change her mind, and shook her hand. “Hello. I’m Edge. This is my husband, Stretch.”
She grinned. “Awesome. Love the get-up,” She winked at Stretch.
Stretch performed a curtsy for her, and she giggled.
“did you paint these yourself?” Stretch asked, leaning in to see another piece of art.
“I sure did.”
“This is incredible work,” Edge offered, picking up the piece that had caught his eye. “Are you selling or just showing?”
“Everything on this table is for sale,” Corrine replied. “I have lots more where that came from.”
Edge bought the painting.
As they went through the room, Edge discovered more and more that he didn’t realize he enjoyed. One person even had a table set up for one of Red’s favorite horror movies, and Edge got him a t-shirt and a plush figure of the demonic entity from the film.
A few hours later, as they headed home with their spoils from the day, Stretch reached out to settle his hand on top of Edge’s on the stick shift.
“thanks for coming with me, babe,” he said softly. His energy had been well and truly depleted, and he would likely be asleep before they made it home.
“I will admit it was more fun than I had expected.” He glanced over to see Stretch’s soft grin. “Being with you was the best part.”
Stretch chuckled. “you’re just being cute now.” He relaxed against the back of the chair and yawned. “i love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Chapter 6: Call for Help (T+)
Bit of a warning for dark themes here. There is a mention of thoughts of suicide, but no attempts.
I don't know why I always see Edge as the giving partner in the hurt/comfort situations. He's just such a good guy and I love having him dole out the comfort to all the hurt beans.
Crysta-cub asked: 72 spicybbq (edge/slim)
The line is: “Just smile, I really need to see you smile right now.”
It was two-thirty in the morning when he got the call. As little as he actually needed to sleep, Edge found himself struggling to wake up enough to answer the phone. Once he saw the name of the caller, he was not only awake, but out of bed.
“Slim?” He answered immediately. “Are you okay?”
The soft but hesitant laughter on the other end didn’t bode well.
“depends on your definition of okay. i, uh...i’m sorry to call like this—“
“Don’t be sorry,” Edge interrupted. “Tell me what you need.”
Slim had been sliding progressively further down into a dark and steep depression despite his ongoing therapy and medication. Edge had tried to convince both himself and his boyfriend that it was okay to have setbacks and it never meant that he was failing. He wasn’t so sure how much Slim believed that, but he had to try something to help.
“i kinda need a ride,” Slim said softly, his tone unsure and repentant.
“Where are you? Is there a reason you can’t teleport?” Edge closed his eyes; he knew Slim was going to take that the wrong way. “I’m more than happy to come get you, Slim. I just need to know if you’re injured.”
There was a slight pause, Slim’s shaky breath coming over the receiver.
“uh...i’m not hurt, no. not...physically. the doctors told me i shouldn’t be alone, and i really don’t wanna bug razz.”
Edge sat down on the side of the bed. Doctors? He was only growing more and more worried.
“Tell me where you are, love,” Edge asked patiently.
“i’m at ebott regional. i had a...a thing. a moment, i guess. i really don’t wanna talk about it on the phone.”
Edge nodded to himself. “Stay where you are; I’ll be there in a minute. I love you.”
Slim sniffled. “love you too, edge. thanks.”
“Anytime, day or night. I’ll see you soon.”
They hung up, and Edge quickly changed out of his pajamas then rushed downstairs to grab what he needed and slip into his shoes before running out the door.
The night was darker than usual, the new moon offering no light and the stars barely more than dim pinpricks in the sky. Edge drove perhaps faster than he should have, arriving at the hospital in record time.
Slim was sitting on a bench outside the emergency room entrance smoking a cigarette. Edge parked and got out, walking over to sit next to him.
Neither said anything for a moment while Slim finished smoking, but Edge accepted his unoccupied hand and held tightly, a silent reassurance that he was there when Slim was ready to speak.
After he tamped out the butt and tossed it into the bin beside the bench, Slim leaned over and rested his head against Edge’s shoulder.
“thank you for coming,” he whispered.
Edge planted a kiss to the top of his skull. “Always.”
There was an unspoken question hanging in the air around them. Edge would give Slim the time he needed to explain; it was undoubtedly difficult enough for him to make the call in the first place, and Edge wasn’t about to punish that by demanding answers. His love needed extra patience, and that was okay.
“can we go to your place?” he finally asked.
Edge nodded and squeezed his fingers lightly before getting up and leading the way to the car.
At his house, the couple sat on the couch together. Slim snuggled into Edge’s side, his arms around Edge’s rib cage almost too tightly. Edge had offered snacks and tea, all of which were turned down in favor of cuddling.
Edge held Slim gently, rubbed his back soothingly and waited.
A short moment of silence passed before Slim sucked in a deep breath.
“i thought about killing myself tonight,” he said, so softly it was almost a whisper.
The confession ripped a hole in Edge’s soul. He wanted to demand why, remind Slim of just how much that would hurt those who loved him. He wanted to yell and somehow convince Slim to promise him he would never think of such horrific things ever again.
Instead, he pulled in a slow breath and hugged his love tighter.
“Any reason in particular?” he asked calmly.
Slim shook his head. “no. i mean, my thoughts were so dark and confused, and all i wanted was to let go. but i thought of you. and my brother. the thought of how bad i’d hurt you brought me out of it. i didn’t do anything. i just took myself to the hospital and asked for help.”
Edge closed his eyes and pressed a gentle kiss to Slim’s head. He wanted to remind Slim that he could have called. He didn’t want to add any layer of misguided guilt on to what Slim was already feeling, so he chose a different set of words.
“I am so proud of you,” he said.
Slim let out a skeptical huff. “why?”
“Not only did you have the strength to stop yourself from harming, you sought help. That takes a lot of courage.”
They were both quiet for a long moment as Slim clung to him and he rubbed soothing circles on his back. He felt Slim’s shoulders shake as he began to cry, felt the wetness of his tears seep through the fabric of his shirt. He didn’t move, only let Slim take what he needed.
“i’m so sorry,” he sobbed quietly, his face pressed to Edge’s shoulder. “i’m sorry. i love you so much, and i’m so sorry.”
He babbled more apologies that Edge wished he could dismiss; there was absolutely nothing for him to apologize for. He’d chosen to stay alive, had gone to a hospital full of strangers to seek out help his brain undoubtedly told him he didn’t need, all for Edge.
Instead of saying any of that, he simply held Slim through his tears.
It seemed an eternity later that Slim pulled back, his face a smear of magic tears and snot, and carefully tried wipe some of the mess away. He explained haltingly how the hospital had helped him, that someone had sat with him and talked him through the worst of it. They wouldn’t let him leave until they knew for sure that he wouldn’t be alone. He could have just teleported, but he didn’t want to risk it. This is thoughts had been too intrusive, too tempting, to consider facing them again.
“hey, edge?” he whispered after another moment of silence.
He hummed in response.
“will you do something for me?”
“Anything.” His reply was automatic, and he should probably work on that. In this moment, he doubted Slim was about to ask for anything extravagant or dangerous, but offering himself up so completely like that was not a good habit to have. Red would likely kick him upside the head if he’d heard Edge say that.
“just smile. i really need to see you smile right now.”
Edge did so without question.
Amazingly, Slim managed a smile back. It was a little wobbly and tears still leaked silently from his sockets, but it was gorgeous nonetheless.
“Thank you for calling me, Slim. Thank you for letting me help you.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to his mouth. “I love you.”
“i love you too. can we have some of those snacks now?”
Edge nodded and gently pushed Slim to get up. In the kitchen, he gave his love a wet cloth to clean up with while he prepared some simple snacks and tea.
They would likely go to bed at some point. Edge knew he was probably tired but he wasn't feeling it. He’d already made the decision to call in to work that day as he’d be exhausted, but he wasn’t about to complain.
He would forgo countless hours of sleep and take the whole week off if it meant giving Slim the support he needed to stay alive.
Chapter 7: Sickness (T)
I’m so sorry these are taking so long to get finished! I promise I’m still working on them, just kind of going back and forth among the other things I’m writing.
The line for this one is: “I’m not going to be sympathetic until you go to a doctor.”
Edgepuff is one of those ships that I adore when I read them, but I’ve never written it before. Apologies if this sucks.
If there was any one thing Edge appreciated about his boyfriend, it was that Papyrus understood the merit behind good common sense. Sure, he was energetic and fun-loving and tall and handsome and talented in so many ways, ways that made him blush if he thought about them, and this train of thought was getting derailed fast.
The point was that Papyrus knew when to coddle and when to expect those in his care to buck up and take control.
Edge had witnessed this common sense in his boyfriend the first time they met, having been perfectly practical about meeting alternate versions of him and his brother. It had been refreshing, mostly because everyone else seemed to be either freaking the fuck out or apathetic to the point of napping while the others figured shit out.
Regardless. That was neither here nor there. Edge had a point, and it was that Papyrus was practical, cool, level-headed, and just about the best monster in the multiverse.
Until he got sick.
When sick, Papyrus became the biggest, most dramatic idiot in the multiverse. He refused to let others take care of him, likely due to growing up with a brother whose HP was so low he couldn’t afford to accept care lest Sans get sick too. He pushed through it, most of the time making it worse on himself and anyone who had to deal with him in the process.
Edge would like to take a moment to congratulate himself on being slightly less dramatic. He chalked it up to having a brother who would literally drag his bony ass to the doctor when he was sick. As Red put it, just because he couldn’t care for his younger brother didn’t mean he was going to be an ass about getting care.
Off course, again.
Today, Papyrus was laying on the couch openly crying about how much he loved Mettaton’s acting and how perfect he’d been before his change into MTT-Neo, only now he was even more perfect because look at those LEGS!
Edge sighed and carefully carried the tray of soup and medicine out to the coffee table. He took a second to press the inside of his wrist to Papyrus’ forehead.
“He’s just so pretty!” Papyrus wailed, grabbing Edge’s wrist and looking at him with wide, wet sockets. He went on about Mettaton’s fashion style and that he was going to be releasing a new line of swimwear this summer and Papyrus was already so in love even though he hadn’t seen a damn piece of fabric yet.
Edge only nodded. He certainly had his MTT phase when he was younger, often blasting the singer/songwriter’s heavy metal music through the house and annoying the shit out of his brother in the process. He’s grown out of it, though. Mostly. Just because he occasionally indulged in a movie or a TV show marathon every now and then didn’t mean anything.
“Did I upset you?” Papyrus asked, his tone unusually calm. His temperature was too high, had been for too long, and Edge was going to have to try to talk him into seeing a doctor again.
“No, of course not,” Edge soothed. “Now sit up and try to eat some soup.”
“You look angry.”
“That’s just my face. You know that.”
Papyrus hummed. “No, I know, but it’s more than that. You think I love Mettaton more than I love you, don’t you?!” he suddenly cried. He took a second to stare at Edge helplessly before flopping back down, face first, into the couch cushion.
Edge sighed. “I think you love me and Mettaton in very different ways,” he explained. “Come on, now. You need to eat.”
“But I love you so much!”
This whole thing would be cute if Edge didn’t already know Papyrus felt like shit. His bones were likely aching with every breath and the sound of a nasally voice coming from a person with no nose was unique in and of itself.
“And I love you, which is why I insist you sit up and eat.”
After a few more tears, he finally did. Edge didn’t bother helping; he knew Papyrus could do it himself and he’d used up every single ounce of Edge’s ability to coddle over the last few days. If he would just go and see the damn doctor, then Edge could feel a bit more like feeding into what Papyrus was trying to get from him, but he just couldn’t keep this up. He had limits, dammit.
By the time he’d finished eating what he could--half the bowl of soup--his demeanor had calmed quite a bit. He sniffled and looked miserably over at Edge.
“I made you mad, didn’t I?” he asked.
“How? By suggesting that Mettaton is prettier than me? Hardly.”
He knew what Papyrus was trying to ask, but there wasn’t a very couth way to ask why someone wasn’t pampering you anymore.
Edge didn’t bother sugar coating it. “I’m not going to be sympathetic until you go to a doctor.”
“But I don’t need--”
Edge shut him up with a look. “You’ve been ill for five days. How long does this kind of thing normally last for you?”
Casting his glance down at the blanket on his legs, Papyrus answered quietly. “Two to three days.”
“You’re also not showing much sign of improvement. I love you, Papyrus, but if you want me to believe that you’re not just dragging this out to get more of my attention, then you’ve got to do something about it. Show me you’re not taking advantage of my time and efforts.”
It was neither of their faults that work had been more stressful and taking up more of his time recently. He could understand Papyrus wanting to spend more time with him as they did when their relationship was young, but he absolutely could not excuse what he felt was a deliberate attempt at tricking him into missing work.
“I’m not--! I would never--!”
Edge nodded. “And I want to believe that. I truly do. So help me out by setting an appointment, okay?”
Papyrus leaned into his shoulder and nodded. “Okay,” he said softly. “I’ll call them right now.”
Edge sighed in relief and wrapped an arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders. He listened as the call was made and an appointment set. Once it was done, he urged Papyrus to curl up into his lap as they watched a few episodes of Mettaton’s pirate epic together.
Chapter 8: Sickness 2.0 (PG-13)
I’m doing these out of order, I’m sorry. I’m sick, Slim is sick, Edge is sick (in the head)…Dammit, we’re all sick.
Crysta-cub asked: Drabble list #2 spicybbq (edge/slim) #26
The line is: “You’re the one thing keeping me sane right now.”
Edge looked down at his phone when it chimed with a message. To his surprise, the message was from Slim.
Bonefriend: can you come over after work today? please? i feel like shit.
The message sent a wave of concern crashing through Edge’s soul. That Slim felt like shit could mean anything from being mildly inconvenienced to full-blown suicidal. He wasn’t waiting until he was released at the end of his shift. His boss might give him shit, but this world’s Asgore was a mite different from his own.
Edge: Of course I can come over. Do you need anything?
Telling Slim that he was coming over early would do nothing but make him feel bad for ‘making’ Edge miss work. Better to skip all that when he could wave away concerns in person.
Bonefriend: you. and maybe some soup?
Soup? A bit of an odd request, but one Edge was all too happy to fill. He even had some leftover chicken noodles that he’d made for Sans and Red the day before. They’d both come down with some kind of sickness at the same time, as if they weren’t twins enough already.
He sent a quick text back stating what he had, and Slim responded with a thumb’s up emoji. With a fond smile on his face, he closed down the programs he was using and sent an email to Asgore letting him know he was leaving early. After that, he gathered his items and left his office.
Just outside, he stopped to let his secretary know he was leaving. Harriet was new, and like many others who worked with him, she was nervous around him. She smiled though, and let him know in no uncertain terms that she would handle everything. He had no choice but to trust her.
At home, Edge quickly changed into street clothes and got the soup together, then got back into his car to head over to Slim’s.
He pulled into drive and walked up to the door. He knocked once only to announce his presence before using his key to let himself in. Razz was already halfway to the door and gave Edge a nod in greeting before returning to the television. Edge nodded back.
“Is he in his room?” Edge asked.
“Yeah. Thanks for bringing that,” he gestured to the container in Edge’s hand, “he wouldn’t let me make him anything. Said you were going to take care of him.”
Edge raised a brow. “Is he ill?”
Razz sighed. “He said he told you what was going on! That lying bastard.”
Edge tensed but forced himself to let it go. Razz didn’t mean it the way Edge would have taken it. The insults the brothers threw back and forth were similar to the ones he and Red threw at each other, but it was odd seeing it from an outsider’s perspective.
“He said he was feeling bad.” It took a second, but Edge finally got it. “Oh, he caught what Sans and Red have?”
Razz nodded. “And Stretch, too, apparently. The low HP crowd could fund that hospital all on their own.”
Wasn’t that the truth?
“Has he been?”
“Yeah, I took him this morning; dragged him kicking and screaming. Well, he would have if he’d had the energy. It’s just a bug that needs to work it’s course; nothing the doctors can do about it, apparently. They just said to bring him back if it gets worse.”
“Thank you for that.”
Razz glared at him. “What, you think I’d leave my own brother here to--”
Edge shook his head, smiling a little. “No, you idiot, thank you for the information.”
That calmed him down, and he just nodded. Edge took that as his cue to leave and went to heat up the soup.
Once it was ready, Edge made his way to Slim’s room with everything on a tray and knocked lightly before entering. The room was dark save for the light coming in through the window. It was just as messy as it ever was, although there was a nice new pile of used tissues on the floor by the head of the bed.
“edge?” slim rasped. His voice was always low and grainy, but there was something about the illness that made it even rouger, sexier.
“Yes, it’s me.” He kicked the door shut and moved to set the tray on the table beside the bed.
“i didn’t expect you to get here until later. what are you doing here?” He lifted himself up to his elbow where he leaned over the side of the bed to start hastily cleaning up the tissues. Most of them landed just short of the wastebasket.
Edge pushed him back down and sat beside him. “If you think I haven’t dealt with worse, far grosser, messes, you’re wrong. I’m sure you remember my brother.”
Slim smiled, but it was weak. “yeah, that asshole is a special brand of gross.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were ill?” Edge reached out and pressed his wrist to Slim’s forehead. He didn’t push it away, but he did groan at Edge’s frown.
“because I knew you’d leave early and come over just to prance around me like I’m a porcelain doll. i’m not fucking dying; i’m just sick for fuck’s sake. i’m also hungry. i can’t smell it, but i know you made good on the offer to bring chicken noodles.”
Edge smiled fondly and leaned over to press a soft kiss to Slim’s cheekbone. “Yes, I did. Would you like me to--”
“if you plan to end that sentence with ‘help you’ i’m going to drown you in it.”
Okay. Apparently Slim was a bit oversensitive. It probably made sense; Razz was just as overbearing as Blue could be, only Razz was meaner about it. Slim had probably had enough of being treated like a child.
So instead of making any fanfare about it, Edge reached over to get the soup from the table and set it on Slim’s sternum. He only watched as Slim struggled to sit up without spilling any, only offering his help when Slim seemed to realize he couldn’t do it on his own. Even then, all he did was hold the bowl. Once Slim was settled, Edge maneuvered himself to sit on his opposite side and propped himself against the headboard.
“it’s good,” Slim said softly, his voice still rough and gravelly even as a whisper.
Why was that so sexy? He’d heard humans talk about a sexy cold voice before, but he’d always thought it was ridiculous. Humans with colds sounded snotty and slimy and gross.
Maybe it was just Slim.
Edge didn’t say anything as Slim finished his soup and set the bowl haphazardly on the table. It was almost too close to the side, but Edge said nothing still. Instead, he welcomed Slim into his arms and pressed a kiss to the top of his skull.
“thank you so much for coming. i’m sorry i made you leave work early.”
“You did no such thing,” Edge said sternly yet calmly. “That was my choice.” He decided not to mention the real reason. “And I made that decision because spending time with you under any circumstances is better than sitting at that desk.”
Slim hugged him a little tighter. “thanks. not true, but thanks.”
“Excuse you? I’ll decide what’s true or not when it comes to how I feel, thank you.” His voice was teasing, and he could almost feel Slim’s smile through the thin material of his t-shirt.
They sat in silence for a few long minutes before Slim started to get uncomfortable. He took a few sips of water and then wanted to lie back down. Edge laid with him and once again wrapped his arms around his love.
“thank you for coming. sometimes i feel like you’re the one thing keeping me sane right now.” He burrowed his face deeper into Edge’s shirt.
Edge held him a little tighter and didn’t demand an explanation. It seemed this illness wasn’t the only thing he was battling, and perhaps Edge’s first concern was valid after all. Bringing it up, making Slim talk, would either help make it better or push him deeper into it, and Edge wasn’t about to risk that. If Slim wanted to talk about it, he would. He’d made that promise, and Edge had to trust that he’d keep it.
“Of course I came,” he said, gently petting Slim’s back and shoulders. “I’m always here for you, Slim, you know that. No matter what the ailment is, my chicken soup and my love is always yours for the taking.”
Slim huffed a little laugh which led to a bigger coughing fit. He groaned and reached over the side of the bed to the tissue box Edge had seen there and pulled back with a handful of them.
“i’m all gross right now and i might leak on you,” he warned.
“As if snot is the worst bodily fluid of yours I’ve had on me.”
That caused a little blush to rise to Slim’s cheekbones, and Edge smiled at the sight. It was right then that he realized why Slim’s voice was so damn sexy. It sounded like this--a bit deeper and more hoarse--after he’d sucked Edge’s--
A knock on the door interrupted that thought.
“Slim?” Razz peeked his head in. “I’m sorry, I know Edge is here to take care of you, but I can’t help it. I need to ask you how you’re feeling.”
Instead of the snarl Edge had expected, Slim just nodded and smiled a bit. “i’m okay, bro.”
“Do you need anything?”
“nope. just edge.” He snuggled in closer to Edge’s side as if to demonstrate.
Razz nodded again and shut the door.
Slim sighed and laughed a little. “y’know, sometimes i think he’s like this now because he couldn’t be when we were underground. like he’s trying to make up for all the times he had to leave me suffering at home and could only sneak in to check on me during his lunch break. i do get it, but sometimes i get a bit bratty.”
Edge nuzzled his skull. “Only sometimes?” But he agreed; even when he and Slim had first gotten together, Razz was fiercely protective of Slim but he wouldn’t show it around anyone but Edge. It had led Edge to believe that the monster had a problem with him specifically, but that didn’t last. He was more open with his concern now, able to show the world that he loved his brother without fear of reprimand or what might befall his brother because of it.
“yes, only sometimes, you shit.”
Edge smiled at that and held his love tighter. “Try to sleep now, okay? I’ll stay with you.”
“okay, but don’t you dare get sick, too.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Chapter 9: Anniversary (PG-13)
Anonymous asked: 13. "Who did this?" Spicyhoney plz
Edge sighed in relief as he pulled up to the house. It had been a long day, an even longer week, and he was ready to spend some down time with his husband.
This weekend was their anniversary, and Edge was already looking forward to spoiling his love with a simple dinner and some random movie while they made love on the couch, possibly breakfast in bed the next morning. Something with strawberries and whipped cream that he could lick off his husband’s bones…
His smile didn’t fade as he walked into the house. He set down his briefcase and slipped out of his shoes before stacking them lovingly on the shoe rack kept by the door. Edge would have preferred it stay in the closet, but Stretch’s ability to put his shoes on it seemed to disappear when it was out of sight.
It was then that Edge realized something was odd. There were far too many shoes on the rack. All of them he recognized, and only one pair belonging to anyone who lived in the house.
That was okay. Stretch was entitled to have friends over, and on any other day Edge would have rejoiced the fact that he was spending time with people. But today was special…
Edge pushed aside his irritation. Their anniversary wasn’t until the next day, and Edge’s plan would keep.
It was then that he heard the giggles, Stretch’s lovely laughter carrying from the kitchen. He and the others were likely raiding the snacks Edge kept stocked in the fridge. The fact that it was almost dinner time probably hadn’t registered to a single one of them.
Oh well. Edge could whip up something to feed the gang, he was sure.
He was not prepared for the sight that greeted him once he pushed through the door to the kitchen. Stretch was there by the counter, holding something in his hand, and he jerked up to look with wide, owlish eyes at Edge.
Sans and Slim were beside him, looking just as surprised as Stretch. Red was nowhere to be seen, but Edge had seen his shoes. He’d probably teleported somewhere in his shock.
“babe!” Stretch said, too loudly. “you’re home early!”
“I am?” He really wasn’t. He hadn’t left work early. Then again, he hadn’t taken the time to clean up his office or schedule anything for the next day. He supposed he was usually home a half hour or so later.
“i mean, not that i’m not happy to see you, but…” he glanced nervously at the countertop where something that looked like a cake was sitting half decorated, then at the kitchen around him.
Edge had been so preoccupied by the others’ reactions that he hadn’t even noticed the state of his kitchen. Bowls and pans and a small pot filled the sink. There was a trail of some kind of mixture that had dropped down the front of his stove, and the counters were all spotted with small messes.
He sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Stretch was a known messy cook, but he always cleaned up after himself. Always. He knew Edge had a thing about a dirty home, the kitchen especially.
Edge had to remember that his love was not expecting him home so soon and likely would have cleaned away all of the evidence if he’d had the time.
He looked over the others in the kitchen for a second.
“Who did this?” he finally asked.
All three point at each other. Stretch smiled innocently.
Of course it was all of them. It was a silly question to ask, but Edge had meant whose idea it was. Likely Stretch’s.
“babe, this is supposed to be a surprise for you. so…you mind stepping out for a bit while we finish up?”
Every atom in Edge’s body wanted to stay and clean. He refused to disappoint his husband like that, so he merely nodded and forced himself to leave the room.
In the living room, Red was on the couch, his socked feet dangling over the arm while he played on his phone.
“How kind of you to abandon your friends in their time of need,” Edge said dryly.
Red grinned. “they don’t need me anymore anyhow. all i offered was a word of advice and an idea. past that ‘m useless.”
Edge sat next to his brother’s head and tapped his forehead. “No, you’re not.”
Red stayed a moment longer before he got up, grumbled about Edge’s apparent boringness, and disappeared into the kitchen. Edge smiled to himself and pulled his phone out to go over his recipes. Simple salads were not going to cut it tonight.
The next afternoon, Edge was finally able to see what Stretch and the gang had been working on the day before. It was a cake, as he’d expected, but the shape of it was just as surprising as the message on it.
Although any one of the skeletons present the night before could have come up with the idea, including Edge’s husband, he was still adamantly positive it was his brother’s influence.
Before him on the table, under Stretch’s bright and somewhat mischievous smile, was a large penis cake. The red icing was done nicely with a patient hand (likely Sans) with little orange flowers around the outer edges. On the top in messy white writing (likely Stretch) was “i love all your parts. happy anniversary!”
“so what do you think?” Stretch asked excitedly, bouncing from foot to foot.
Edge pulled him in roughly and kissed him. “I love all your parts, too, love. Although, I’m not sure I can watch you cut that cake. It might give me nightmares.”
Stretch pushed him gently. “liar, that thing doesn’t look like your dick at all. but i mean, if you wanna, we could just eat it with our hands?”
He seemed far too interested in that idea. The mess would be worth it, Edge decided.