Happy Valentine ya'll
1.
"Leave it up to your brother to be late to such an important event." Flowey scoffs from his corner, eyes rolled up to the ceiling in his usual over-dramatic ways and Papyrus shakes his head, fidgeting with the bow tie on his suit.
"He'll come." He says nervously.
"Sure he will." Flowey grins sarcastically. "There will be free food after all."
Papyrus throws him a glance that's meant to convey his datemate is being less than helpful right now so the flower concedes.
"Sans will come. He's a trash bag, but even he can't bail out on being the best man at his brother's wedding."
Papyrus flutters through the room anxiously, rearranging a ton of random trinkets that have accumulated in what serves as his dressing room in seemingly random order. He ends up in the corner eventually and Flowey grabs his hand.
"Calm down. Didn't you say you were 'finally marrying your best friend' today. No need to act like an idiot." He says, even getting a smile out of his soon-to-be spouse.
"I'm nervous." Papyrus admits, as if that weren't glaringly obvious already. "Besides, you shouldn't even be in here. It's bad luck."
Flowey scoffs again, letting go of his partner's hand with a small smirk. "I think we've had our fair share of bad luck already."
As if to bring his point home, the door swings open just as he makes this statement. Undyne barges in like a freaking hurricane, hair tangled in the shoulder straps of her dress and the look in her eyes is panicked to say the least.
"How the frick do humans wear these things?!" She basically hollers and Papyrus looks stuck between laughing or crying.
He opts for a miserable chuckle instead.
"Here, I can just-" He easily solves the puzzle that is Undyne's hair versus her dress, helping her secure the strands of red up afterwards so they won't get caught again.
"Thanks. Sans was being useless, as always." Undyne huffs and Papyrus beams at the comment.
"He's here?"
"Told you so!" Flowey pipes up from the corner but his best friend ignores him.
"Yeah, he just arrived." She tells them, pulling on the seams with an annoyed expression. While Papyrus thinks she looks rather stunning in the long, pale yellow chiffon dresses Frisk and him picked for the bridesmaids to wear, he does admit it's a stark contrast to her usual attire.
"Thank Asgore." Papyrus smiles, feeling his shoulders sag in relief.
Maybe he didn't want to consider it, but part of him was seriously afraid Sans wouldn't show up at all. Not because of laziness or anything like that, but just because he wasn't exactly the most approving of this entire wedding to begin with.
While the last few years on the surface have certainly done a lot to correct the awkward standing between his brother and his now datemate, Flowey and Sans weren't exactly off to a shining start way back when.
"You were worrying about nothing, yet again." Flowey says cheekily and Papyrus notices he has been zoning off. Undyne has already left to set up the rest of the proceedings.
"I was." He agrees. "Let's just hope we're done panicking for now."
2.
Papyrus never was one to believe in superstitions, but he knows what humans mean when they say you can 'jinx' something, and perhaps he has gone and done just that.
"What do you mean, there are no rings?"
Maybe his voice is slightly shrill right now, because Sans looks at him as if he's about to teether over but Papyrus ignores it.
"I mean we're dealing with a distinct uhm- Lack of rings." Mettaton says, hands perched dramatically under his metallic chin.
"We can't marry without rings." Papyrus sighs, something tight curled into his chest and this is the worst. This is the worst thing possible.
Sans lays a hand on his elbow calmly. "Bro, you can totally marry without rings." He says. "Besides, one of the grooms doesn't even have any fingers so it's fine."
With a grunt, Papyrus has to fight every instinct to grab his brother by the lapels of his dress jacket and chuck him out of the nearest window.
However, since that would probably only delay their imminent nuptials, which should be starting in less then 10 minutes now for crying out loud, he refrains.
"It's not like that-" He says, feeling that trying to express why this is important to him is a fruitless endeavor to begin with. The rings are very much a human custom, and just symbolic to boot, so technically Sans isn't even wrong. They don't matter.
Except to Papyrus they do. Because it's something new, something not Undergound. Something so different and weird and senseless that not doing it would feel wrong.
But saying so out loud would just be embarrassing.
Frisk blinks up at him, frowning hard and Papyrus pets them on the head just to let them know he's fine. It's fine.
He can just not get married he guesses.
They stare at him for a second, that same look of determination sticking to their features Papyrus has seen so many times before as they rush out of the room.
"Darling, relax." Mettaton says meanwhile, one hand on his other elbow and Papyrus appreciates the gesture but there's no way he will be in a state of relaxation anytime soon. "We can figure this out."
Luckily, it turns out they don't have to.
Frisk is back a mere 5 minutes later, panting from a recent sprint but their smile is triumphant, as if they just saved the entirety of Monsterkind all over again.
They present Papyrus with their price slowly, like they're handing over the greatest treasure ever to exist while in fact it turns out to be simply two wedding rings.
Upon closer inspection, they're more like two plastic bands, crudely painted a bright gold with glitters all over them and pieces of glass stuck to the top, cut in such a way as to resemble diamonds. Papyrus recognizes them from the quant vending machines he has seen human children fawn over at the mall.
They're toys.
If he had tear ducts, surely this would be the excellent time to use them. "They're perfect." He says, sweeping Frisk up and they giggle softly, trying to smooth down their now tussled hair.
They take their responsibility as ring bearer very seriously.
"Thank you." Papyrus sets them down carefully and they wink at him in that flirtatious way they all of them have been on the receiving end of by now.
"We're about to start, bonehead." Undyne yells, peeking out from the door to the ceremony room like she's ready to suplex all of them if they don't hurry up, barely able to power walk with the dress tangling around her feet, let alone run. "I want to get out of this thing as soon as possible."
"Yes, we're ready." Papyrus says excitingly, straitening his jacket and it feels weird. To know he'll be married in just a few minutes. It's unreal in all the best ways possible.
He can't wait.
3.
And then they're there and it's happening and he can't for the love of him focus.
Everybody is staring at them. Occasionally a camera flashes, Toriel probably.
And Asgore is standing in front of them and he's talking but Papyrus can't hear him at all.
Obviously, getting 'married' married wasn't an option. Humans are backwards enough to not even recognize the love between their own kind just because they're of the same gender at times. There was no way Papyrus though he could convince them to approve of the legal ties between a skeleton and a flower.
But monsters have something slightly similar and Asgore might not truly be their king anymore, but he's well experienced at such ceremonies from back in the day.
In fact, Undyne and Alphys beat them to the punch. They married not long after coming to the surface and ever since Papyrus has been completely enamored by the idea. Heedless of the legality of it in the humans eyes, it's the gesture more than anything that counts.
Flowey makes a face at him, something between a smirk and a concerned frown and with a sudden horror Papyrus realizes everything is quiet and they're waiting for him to say something.
"S-sorry, I-" He stutters, eyes wide and Flowey just outright laughs this time.
"Really, Papyrus?" He mutters, quiet enough so that only them can hear. "And here I was thinking that after all this time, I'd never get to see you speechless."
His tone of voice is more amused than anything and it puts Papyrus at ease, at least.
Asgore coughs into his fist politely. "We shall now hear the vows." He repeats warmly, looking at the both of them with a fondness Flowey always get slightly melancholic about, but which doesn't seem to affect him today.
He's busy still staring at Papyrus.
Papyrus, who is patting down his pockets and finding them empty and panicking and forget chucking Sans out of the window, maybe he can make a quick exit through them himself because this is beyond embarrassing.
He has forgotten his vows.
He wrote them down on a piece of scrap paper a few days ago, partly because the Great Papyrus always likes to be prepared, but mostly because he knows himself well enough to recognize his anxiety about everything proceeding fluidly might make him struggle to get out the right words when the moment arrived.
Which is exactly what is happening, thank you very much.
But where is the paper? He can feel the knot in his rib cage getting tighter, and he can't even look at anybody anymore, just at the floor. He takes back his earlier statement.
This is the worst thing ever.
Just when he's about to bail, Flowey starts talking.
"Guess I'll go first then." He says, rolling his eyes and Papyrus startles. He had been on the understanding that this would very much be an one-way exchange. Flowey always has trouble with verbal forms of affection, and while Papyrus doesn't mind since there are plenty of other ways his datemate has showed he cares, he thought he was the only one doing vows today.
Again, because it's the gesture that matters.
"We've known each other for... a very, very long time now." Flowey starts, eyes softer perhaps than Papyrus has ever seen them before and the knot in his chest only tightens. "And you're an absolute idiot. You're hopeful and merciful and just so so good. Better than I'll ever be."
It feels even quieter now. Like none of the others are there anymore, the crowd fading away until it's just the two of them and when Flowey smiles it's sharp, as it often is when he considers those first few years of their acquaintance. There's a lot of regrets there. "You're the only one who still manages to surprise me. And I love you for it."
Papyrus blinks, the tight feeling blossoming into something warmer now, something he doesn't often acknowledge because maybe it makes him a little too happy.
"It's you're turn now, ya know." Flowey says quickly, looking away and he's obviously embarrassed too now.
At least they can be awkward together.
"Oh uhm-" Is there anything he can even say that comes close to that sensation? "I love you too."
They're silent for a few seconds, until Asgore gets the hint and continues with the rest of the ceremony and Papyrus tunes him out again.
It's not quite the eloquent speech he had in mind, but going by the look on his almost-husband's face it says more than enough.
4.
Humans have this concept known as Murphy's law. Papyrus has not the slightest clue who Murphy is or what they have done to irk the universe so badly to be on the receiving end of its wrath, but he very much expects he is feeling the brunt of it now.
"It's literally just across the street." Alphys says, tugging on Mettaton's arm insistently but the robot stubbornly refuses to move. "You'll be fine."
"Darling, you have created this perfection. I'm not risking any part of it rusting." He says, gesturing at his own body with an air of dramatics Papyrus has only ever seen him display on his shows.
"If I get soaked can I take this off?" Undyne asks him from his other side and he nods numbly.
The actual wedding ceremony had been held in what was practically the only nearby space that would comfortably seat enough people, but the reception itself needed functioning heating and running water to accommodate the free food Flowey alluded to earlier and would be held in another place all together.
Thanks to Toriel's rather efficient help at planning everything, these two buildings were in fact right across the street from each other, barely a ten second walk.
Which is about nine seconds too many if you're walking out into an actual storm.
Undyne bravely goes ahead and becomes their trail blazer, hair plastered to her face in seconds and the light chiffon of her dress becoming heavy with the water running everywhere in rivets.
She takes it by the hem and hikes it up as far as her knees to be able to maneuver properly and Papyrus almost wants to face palm at her indiscretion. Especially as a passing car honks eagerly at her disposition.
"Oh dear." Toriel mutters with a smile, Frisk attached to them at the hip when lighting cracks the sky, rain coming down impossibly faster. They don't like storms.
"Did anybody even bother to check the forecast?" Flowey asks, head tilting up from his space in Papyrus' arms and he seems more entertained by their predicament than anything but frowns when he sees the concerned look on his partner's face. "Ugh, it's fine. It's just a bit of water, that never killed anybody."
"I beg to differ." Mettaton complains pointedly.
"You're waterproof." Alphys tells him, which isn't as much a revelations as it is an obvious fact everybody knows but nobody bothered to point out since the diva never pays them any mind.
"Still-" The robot pouts.
"Hey losers, are you still coming or what?!" Undyne hollers at them from across the street, now save and 'dry' under the awning of the other building, shaking her wet hair from side to side.
Papyrus sighs, and Flowey pats his hand sarcastically. "Let's just get this over with. The sooner we're done with this entire farce the better."
At least it can't get much worse than this.
5.
And then it does, because of course it does.
Surely this is Flowey's bad karma catching up to them. Papyrus can see no other possible, reasonable explanation.
One moment they're enjoying themselves, talking and dancing and he feels like finally he can let his guard down and relax, the hardest part is over. Then suddenly there's a distinct 'pop', like the sound you hear when you're making popcorn.
Except it's not popcorn, it's a fuse blowing out and the room is immediately plunged into an inky darkness, the music halting abruptly in the middle of the chorus and somebody makes a rather embarrassing noise, probably Alphys.
Papyrus groans.
"I hate today." He says, maybe crossing his arms and pouting just a little bit because nobody can see it anyway.
Flowey giggles softly from the table. "Agreed."
"At least we're married now." Papyrus goes on, leaning one elbow on the table and then he catches a flicker of flame from the corner of his eyes.
Grillby has set Frisk on his lap, because if there's one thing Frisk hate more than storms its the dark and they wave at Papyrus.
He waves back.
Then it hits him.
Ten minutes later the room is lit up again, not by electrical lighting but by an abundance of candles. They practically raided the nearest store that sold them, getting weird looks along the way but ignoring them because Papyrus would rather die all over again than have his wedding ruined by something so petty as crappy human engineering.
It's cozy though. Asgore is using his hands to make shadow bunnies onto the wall while the kids giggle eagerly and ask him if he can do other animals as well. Alphys and Undyne are sitting close together, the flames reflected in their eyes as they lean closer, their lips inches from touching and Papyrus has to admit the current set-up is rather romantic.
Until Sans pulls out his trombone out of seemingly nowhere and attempts to make up for the lack of music as well. That is very not romantic.
Flowey frowns, groaning his irritation. "How is this any better than silence?"
Papyrus laughs, grabbing the flowerpot and when he pulls it close Flowey leans again him.
"Let's get out of here." The skeleton says and his new husband nods in approval.
They have done enough of this to last a lifetime.
+1
They're in the safety of their apartment not long after, sitting on the couch and the television is on but it's only background noise. They're paying more mind to each other.
They've lived together for months now but somehow it's different now. They're not just best friends living in the same abode anymore.
They're husbands, sharing a home.
Papyrus bumps his forehead against Flowey, breathes in shallowly and this is it. This is why it was all worth it.
"That was rather more eventful than I expected." Flowey mutters, smiling faintly and Papyrus knows he can feel it too. The difference.
"It was a bit... much." Papyrus admits and Flowey looks at him seriously.
"Are you okay?" He asks.
Papyrus takes a moment to think about. Truthfully, it wasn't at all the day he had imagined it to be. It was hectic and nerve-wrecking and there isn't enough money in the world that could convince him to do it over.
But right now, he doesn't care. Right now, it's just the two of them alone with nobody around to bother them.
"It was perfect." He says.
"It really wasn't." Flowey laughs cynically. "It was a disaster."
"Hmm, maybe." Papyrus answers. "But at least we're married now." He repeats his statement from earlier, because truly that's all that matters.
"At least it's over with."
He closes his eyes. Flowey curls one vine around his hand.
They're as content as they could be.
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