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Language:
English
Series:
Part 4 of That's Undertail, baby!
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Published:
2021-05-03
Words:
2,151
Chapters:
1/1
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39
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Swapfell exhibitionism with beacoup exposition

Summary:

Pup goes into heat, but it’s not going to stop Sans from taking him to work.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

“but, m'lord, my heat cycle is nearly–”

Sans half-turned to glare at him haughtily over his shoulder. “DID I ASK FOR A HEALTH UPDATE?” Without waiting for an answer, he returned to the task of lacing his boots. “I’VE BEEN ON THE STARSFORSAKEN WAITING LIST FOR 3 BLOODY MONTHS. IF THIS MEETING IS DELAYED, IT’S ANOTHER 2.” He straightened and bounced on his toes to test the knots. “BY TORIEL’S GRAY BEARD, IF I HAVE TO LISTEN TO THE DAMN DOGS BITCH FOR 8 MORE WEEKS, THERE WILL BE HELL TO PAY.” He grabbed the anxious skeleton’s leash and wrapped it a few times around his wrist before opening to door. “IN A FEW WORDS, MUTT: SUCK IT UP.”

With that, his lord yanked him forward into the biting cold of Snowden. The icy chill felt like the tiny prickling of needles all over him, even under his clothes. Toriel damn it to hell. It was close. The temperature disparity would only get worse from here, moving from tingling to a full-on ache deep in his marrow.

His lord paid him no heed as he was led to the river dock. The riverman was oblivious in the best of times, but even he sing-songed a telling rhyme at Papyrus’ damp condition.

A sorry sight to hold back a slight tightness of the jaw. Better bite it back before a whet appetite’s last straw. Tralala.

Pup glanced at his lord for signs of displeasure with his struggle to maintain decorum. Sans showed nothing but his normal poise, arms and legs crossed, only a slight grimace on his perfect face. Papyrus shifted uncomfortably at as they hit a rough patch of water.

Oh, no. Here it comes.

A warmth blossomed in his soul, gaining slowly but steadily in intensity, heating him up and deepening his breath.

Sans’s eyelights flicked to him as his Mutt’s sockets lidded and the skeleton took a new interest in shifting on his seat.

The sensations around intensified tenfold. Smell of ice water and dirt and mildew and the odd spice the Riverman wore and his lord’s armor polish and the intoxicating faint scent of bones beneath it. Where before the choppy waters rocking the boat were gratingly distracting, now they teased him–every rocking motion caused his clothes to rub against his bones and he let out a breathy groan that snapped both monsters’ attention toward him.

Papyrus became even more keenly aware of every small motion of his lord, including the way the smaller skeleton was breathing too evenly to be natural, and the slight squeezing of his uncovered femurs together before the boat reached the dock.

Have fun, try not to run into trouble on land that will turn you to sand. Tralala.

Papyrus walked through capitol in a haze, completely zeroed in on his lord, mouth watering at the mesmerizing sway of his hips.

“MUTT, YOU’RE STARING AT MY ASS.”

“am i?” He drawled, tongue flicking over his teeth unconsciously. “it is a nice ass, m'lord. looks tasty. how would you like my teeth sinking into your–”

“WE ARE IN PUBLIC, DO NOT LET YOUR GUARD DOWN!” The little lord’s spine straightened, voice a strained hiss, and was that a blush? Heh.

Wait. Public. Calm down. Papyrus mentally flagellated himself for the carelessness. The Snowdin rabble knew of their relationship and the hell someone would pay for attacking either one of them. Papyrus was an efficient, clean murderer, and he lacked patience for anyone stupid enough to lay a hand on his lord. While their reputation was no doubt known in the Capitol, appearing as distracted as he was could tempt some more reckless types to test their mettle.

He shook himself, managing to get a bit of clarity back, long enough to stare down the guards before entering the castle gates.

The royal palace was a picture of gothic decay: it was clear that at some point, it had been home to children with bright tapestries and flourishing fields of flowers. Today, the gardens were devoid of color, overrun with austere-looking vines and a carpet of dead leaves. Furnishings were muted, dust-bleached, and drab. Their world wasn’t a happy one on the best days, but the palace might just be the most depressing place in this oversized prison. The atmosphere made Papyrus want to die every time he was forced to endure a royal summons.

Alphys approached them with a familiar toothy grin and a clap on Sans’s back that nearly made him stumble. “Hey, nerd. Ready for a boring meeting with a couple old farts? Paps, you alright? You look…preoccupied.”

Papyrus nodded stiffly, mopping a faint sheen of sweat from his browbone without comment. He honestly didn’t trust himself not to say anything untoward. Sans subtly straightened his armor, tilting his chin up at the captain. “I HAVE A FEELING IT WONT BE SO BORING.”

Alphys escorted the two skeletons into an inner chamber where the queen and her husband were seated in the most homely looking pieces of furniture they had seen, yet. Alphys took her place standing next to the king’s chair, off to the side. Toriel, of course, was in the center.

Sans approached her with formal greetings, and Papyrus kept his head down, hoping to avoid awkward questions. The two took a seat on the couch opposite the queen and the negotiations were underway.

With his senses ramped up to 11, it was hard to block out the near silent whispering of the two guardsmen posted at the door, commenting on a sweet smell the two skeletal guests brought in with them. The heat was so distractingly intense, he must be glowing. A quick glance downward told him it was true, and he shifted to hide it from at least the queen. bad move. moving was a dumb idea, he thought belatedly, letting out a sharp gasp.

Five and a half pairs of eyes looked to him.

“Is there something wrong with your charge, Sans Serif,” Toriel asked with a mild sneer.

Sans rapidly covered for him, setting a gloved hand upon Papyrus’s femur. “HE IS ILL, YOUR HIGHNESS. PAY NO MIND.” And rubbed his leg tauntingly close please!

Papyrus squeezed his sockets shut at a wave of desire radiating from the point of contact. “don’t–!” He might take him right there. Fuck the meeting. They can wait. Hell, they can watch.

“QUIET,” Sans snapped, returning to the conversation without missing a beat.

“but m'lord,” he moaned, slumping over, using every last ounce of willpower not to crumple on top of the other skeleton for support. He couldn’t do this; the heat was too much. He needed to get away to some secluded place and fuck Sans. At the very least, he needed to touch himself. Now.

A flash of worry flitted across Sans’s face, imperceptible if not for Papyrus’s heightened awareness. With a theatrically irritated huff, the diminutive skeleton waved a hand in the direction of the chair next to them. “THEN JUST HUMP SOMETHING IF YOU’RE SO DAMN HORNY.”

A beat of silence filled the room before Alphys let out an undignified snort, armor-clad hand shooting up to her snout to contain herself. The queen glared across the room at Sans, and he glared unflinchingly back.

Asgore shyly cleared his throat to break the tension, his deep rumbling voice taking on a placating note for his wife (who regarded him with loathing) even as he addressed Sans. “If this is an inconvenient time, perhaps we can reschedule–”

“NO,” the skeleton responded flatly. “WE’VE WAITED LONG ENOUGH ABIDING BY YOUR INFERNAL BUREAUCRATIC DOCKET; I WILL WAIT NO LONGER. LET’S PROCEED. THE MUTT WILL ENTERTAIN HIMSELF.” He motioned again to the chair and Papyrus found himself beyond the point of caring. They were in a semi-safe environment. And he needed to fuck something.

To some mild protesting from the queen, and shocked gasps from the guards, Papyrus straddled the arm of the couch. Sans looked him directly in the eye, passive expression hiding a fierce, hungry intensity as he gave the order. “HUMP IT LIKE THE DOG YOU ARE.”

The first downward grinding stroke was positively blissful–

“QUIETLY.”

He mumbled an apology, jaw open, hood obscuring the rest of the occupants from his vision as he ground down onto the sofa again. The relief of pleasure coursed through him, and he lost track of the conversation as everything narrowed to the feeling of the rough, hard surface digging into his hot bones. Trembling with restraint, he kept his moans to a series of choked whimpers and slid back and forth, the wood creaking in his grip.

“ARE YOU ALL GOING TO GAWK ALL DAY, OR DO WE HAVE BUSINESS TO ATTEND TO?”

Eyes returned to Sans, tapping his foot impatiently, scowl foretelling the end of his patience was at hand.

“This is obscene!” The queen shot to her feet. “I will not allow this disrespect to the crown to continue!”

“MAYBE IF YOU HAD A MORE REASONABLE SCHEDULE OR GAVE A SHIT WHEN YOUR PEOPLE COMPLAIN ABOUT LOST FOOD, WE WOULDN’T BE FORCED TO ATTEND DURING A BLASTED HEAT CYCLE!” Sans glared daggers into the towering height of the other.

White noise in the background. Just hearing his lord’s sharp tongue was enough. Gods, he dipped faster, pushing harder to the point of glorious pain. Just a few more thrusts, he would come all over himself, in front of all of them, at his lord’s behest–

Some strange emotion crossed Toriel’s face, setting her eye to twitching. “Fine,” she barked, but the malice behind her words was weak. “Finalize the supply line security with Alphys. I won’t stand for this debauchery. Take them away.”

Sans stood, smirking. “WE CAN SEE OURSELVES OUT.” With a harsh yank, Papyrus fell in line on autopilot behind him, cock visibly outlined in his pants for the room to see. The guards took a step back and averted their eyes, but Alphys followed them into the empty foyer.

“You brash, cheeky little shit!” Alphys guffawed heartily as Sans failed to hide a grin. “You scoundrel! I can’t believe you set this up!”

ugh, what are they still talking for? doesn’t matter. Now in friendly company, Papyrus wrapped his tongue around his lord’s neck from behind, making Sans gasp and restrain the dog’s wandering hands.

Alphys grimaced, “Alright, alright. I’ll take care of the implementation, just get the paperwork back to me when you’re…er, done.”

Sans nodded and released his mutt’s hands, which immediately delved into his pants. Alphys balked and made herself scarce.

This might be one of the more extreme experiments he put his lover through, and Sans needed to check on the other before they headed back, but if the mutt’s enthusiasm was any indication, they weren’t going anywhere soon. “AH, FUCK, PAPYRUS, FIND A BETTER–MM–SPOT.”

“this spot’s just fine,” he growled, slipping three fingers into his brother without warning.

Sans arched into the touch with a shocked groan, pushing the hungry skeleton off only to be pinned against the nearest wall. “WE’RE TOO EXPOSED,” he moaned, struggling against a suddenly vice-like grip.

“who gives a shit? no one’s here.” Papyrus growled, hands tearing at clothes and tongue reaching into his throat. Sans struggled to breathe, to give an order.

hehheh, can’t tell me to stop if you can’t speak, m'lord. The tall skeleton forced his fingers inside of Sans, again, seeking a spot that he knew from experience made all protests melt away. When he brushed it, the other’s body tensed violently, and he withdrew his tongue with a smirk.

“any more dissent?”

Sans groaned and pulled him in close. “Shut the fuck up and let’s make this quick you mouthy dog!” And crushed their teeth together.

Papyrus wasted no time situating them on the floor and tearing Sans’s shorts off. With a gasp, the smaller skeleton found himself facedown on the dingy carpeted floor with his tailbone in the air next to a wickedly sharp smile. “what? doggy it is, as requested.”

Before he could retort, his brother’s length was driven into him at once and there really was nothing left to think about, anymore.

Laying in bed, later, finally safe at home, Sans turned to him with worry in his voice. “Did I push you too far, today? I know we didn’t discuss it beforehand, but I misjudged how bad the heat was, already.”

Papyrus caressed his brother’s skull adoringly, and smiled. “no, m'lord. i’m honored to be an instrument for your goals. use me any time you like. that was rather clever, actually. risky. but when are we not? besides, it’s cute when you go all ‘hero for the people.’”

“I’M NOT CUTE.”

“you are so cute.”

“KEEP TALKING LIKE THAT AND YOU’LL EARN A LASHING.”

“promise?”

Papyrus felt his heat flare anew at the uncharacteristically cheeky grin spreading across his brother’s face. “YES.”

Notes:

7/5/2017

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