Papyrus was beginning to get annoyed.

Which was annoying.

Obviously.

Sans still wasn't home, and it was waaaaaay past dinner time. He was probably at Grillby's. Probably? Of course he was at Grillby's! That lazy-bones did nothing but sit around drinking ketchup and cracking puns. Papyrus had tried to convince Sans to spend more time in the house and do productive things-ahem, like CLEANING-but lately his brother had been even more reluctant to be anywhere near their home-sweet-home.

Papyrus checked the clock on the kitchen wall again and hummed cheerily. Tonight's spaghetti had really been fantastic. A shame Sans hadn't been there to try it. And Papyrus detested leftovers. Spaghetti was best in the moment! And not a minute later.

The front door slammed open, and Papyrus jumped. "OH MY GOD!" He stormed into the front living room, his brother's name already on his lips. "Sans, you laz—"

Papyrus' bright red boots squeaked as he skidded to a stop.

"Sans?"

Sans leaned against the doorway, soaking with melted snow, his face shadowed by the blue hoodie he always wore.

"H-hey, Pap…" Sans called out, a little louder than he usually did. "Sorry I'm (hiccup) late."

"SANS!" Papyrus said, already using his Royal Guard Voice. "YOU WERE AT GRILLBY'S, WEREN'T YOU? DINNER IS AT 7:00, YOU LAZY-BONES! NO EXCUSES!"

Sans blinked sleepily, and then slumped dramatically onto the carpet.

Papyrus sighed, and stepped over his brother to shut the door. Hmm. Where were the empty ketchup bottles that usually followed Sans home? Come to think of it, Papyrus didn't see any recent ketchup stains on his brother's clothes, either. How odd. Oh well.

"WELL, COME ON THEN, SANS! I'LL BE HAPPY TO MAKE ANOTHER BATCH OF SPAGHETTI FOR YOU!"

Papyrus started back into the kitchen, then turned again when he realized Sans hadn't moved.

Typical.

"SANS, ARE YOU GOING TO LIE THERE ALL NIGHT?"

No response.

Papyrus was definitely getting impatient. Stooping down, he tugged at Sans' jacket insistently.

"…Papyrus?" came a weak sound from the lump below him.

"YES, SANS! IT'S ME! NOW GET UP BEFORE YOUR BONES FREEZE OVER ON THAT COLD—"

It happened quickly, much quicker than Papyrus could have anticipated. One moment he was standing over Sans demandingly, and then his ridiculously lazy, impossibly slow brother was on top of him. Papyrus hadn't thought Sans could have ever been faster than him.

"SANS? GET OFF ME!"

Papyrus looked up, and felt an odd twisting sensation between his ribs.

Sans was staring down at him with an expression Papyrus had never seen before in all their lives.

Sans grabbed Papyrus' face and kissed him roughly. The sensation made Papyrus squirm under him. Sans pressed deeper, softening his touches instantly. Papyrus groaned in protest, attempting to jerk his head back, but Sans was holding him in an unbreakable grip. His fingers roamed all over his brother's face, tracing his smile, his eye sockets, the edges of his jaw, gentle and slow. Papyrus tried to speak, tried to struggle, but he was confused and scared. Sans pulled back, smiling sadly. Seeing the broken, exhausted expression on his brother's face made Papyrus realize exactly how bad things were. He could feel the horror building in him while his mind came to terms with the situation.

Was Sans going to…rape him?

San's eye had started to glow, but it wasn't blue. Instead it bloomed with a sickly yellow color. It looked diseased. His hands left Papyrus' face, and gripped the sides of his ribcage with painful force. Papyrus gasped, arching his back in shock. He thought he heard Sans chuckle quietly, and the laugh that once brought him joy now terrified him. But it wasn't a sound that conveyed sadism, just adoration.

Sans was…proud of him?

San's hands wouldn't stop moving. They caressed every rib, teased over every inch of cartilage. Papyrus had begun to shudder spastically, the fear and panic building inside him until he was a trembling mess. "Sans, brother…" when he spoke, it wasn't his usual confident yells. Instead he begged, soft and croaking.

Sans looked up, and hiccupped weakly. His breath smelled different. A scent Papyrus only recognized from Grillby's.

Alcohol.

Or beer, to be more exact.

So that was it then.

Sans was drunk.

"SANS!" Papyrus said loudly, trying to get his brother's attention. "I THINK YOU'VE HAD A BIT TOO MUCH TO DRINK. THE GREAT PAPYRUS WILL PUT YOU TO BED NOW, AND WE CAN TALK ABOUT THIS TOMORROW."

Sans didn't move, he simply leaned forwards and focused more intently on Papyrus' ribs. Papyrus swallowed thickly.

Alrighty then.

Carefully but firmly, Papyrus gripped San's shoulders and attempted to scoot out from underneath him. Sans wasn't really very heavy, but at his brother's touch he sagged until he had collapsed fully on top of him like an immobile corpse.

Papyrus grunted in frustration, and attempted to use magic to lift his brother.

"Papyrus…" Sans moaned. Papyrus froze. "Did…did I ever (hiccup) tell you…how beautiful you are?"

Papyrus laughed shakily, trying to keep the panic out of his voice. "Y-YOU DIDN'T NEED TO TELL ME THAT, SANS! THE GREAT PAPYRUS ALREADY KNOWS WHAT A HANDSOME SOON-TO-BE ROYAL GUARD HE IS!"

Sans lifted his head a fraction of an inch, and smiled groggily. Papyrus flinched at his beer-soaked breath. "I never…said you were handsome, bro. I said (hiccup)… I said you're beautiful."

Sans' fingers caressed Papyrus' neck, moving down in sliding motions across his collar bone and towards his shoulder. Papyrus shuddered hard, clenching his teeth to stop an undignified sound from escaping him.

He was running out of options. Sans didn't seem to know what he was doing, or even where he was.

"T-THE GREAT PAPYRUS…WILL NOW CAPTURE YOU, BROTHER!" he stammered, and he scooped Sans up as quickly as possible, dragging his brother off of him and scrambling backwards.

Sans tugged out of his grip, and climbed to his feet shakily. "I'm…fine, bro. I just n-need some…brotherly lovin', that's all."

He stumbled towards Papyrus, and ended up on his knees.

"SANS!" Papyrus screeched in fear. "ARE YOU ALRIGHT?"

Sans grinned up at him, drool dripping from one corner of his mouth. "Never better, (hiccup) beautiful bro of mine."

Papyrus stepped back hesitantly, almost afraid to approach him. He wanted to help him up, but how could he get close enough without Sans doing something he would(hopefully) regret later?

Sans didn't seem to need any help. He was already on his feet again, staggering clumsily towards Papyrus like a zombie. "C-come here, Papyrus. L-lay on the TV with me and watch couch."

"SANS, PLEASE. YOU NEED REST!"

"You'll help me (hiccup) rest."

Papyrus quickly put the couch between Sans and himself, and readied a gentle defensive magic. Sans seemed to sense the magic in the air, because he grinned broader and stirred up his own weak magic. It was even more depleted thanks to his intoxicated state.

"Oh, so t-that's how it's…gonna be. Wanna play, bro?"

"N-NO! I WANT YOU TO STOP—SANS, DON'T COME ANY CLOSER!"

Sans stepped forward, blue magic swelling at his core and resonating outwards, making his eye sockets look hollow and dead. "Don't be a-afraid of me, Papy. I j-just want a…hug."

Papyrus felt tears swelling in his eyes, and blinked them away quickly. "COME ON, SANS. THIS ISN'T FUNNY. YOU'RE NOT WELL."

Sans paused, and his magic dulled. "I…I'm not well?"

"YES!" Papyrus nodded eagerly. "YOU'RE VERY SICK, SANS, AND—"

"I'm sick for loving you?"

The room practically shrunk inwards in the silence.

"What are you talking about?" Papyrus asked quietly.

Sans looked down at his bare feet. "I'm sick…because I love my brother? Because I dream about him at night, and I'm distracted every time I see him? I'm sick because he's the most wonderful person in my life?"

With no warning, Sans began to heave, gasping great sobs.

"I-I'm sick because I want him, no matter how h-he's related to me? I'm not well because I'm only happy around him, and I can't think of anybody else, and even when I'm p-pretending not to care…I ache inside?"

Sans was gagging on his own grief. Fat tears coated his face in filthy waves, and he raised shaking hands to his eyes in shame, trying to hide the pain.

Papyrus didn't know what to do. He couldn't speak, he couldn't move. His emotions raged in a storm of confusion and horror and fear and pity.

"I want you Papyrus."

Sans was looking at him though his fingers, wobbling as he tried to remain standing.

"I love you and I want you all to myself, every part of you, and every piece of you. Every bone. For now, and forever. Every day of our lives. Because I'm that selfish. I'm so selfish, Papyrus."

His drunk stuttering and hiccups were gone. He was perfectly understandable. And Papyrus almost wished he wasn't.

Sans couldn't hold himself up anymore. He collapsed, falling to the ground in a heap. This time Papyrus did come to him.

It was his job.

As his brother.

Papyrus lifted Sans into a sitting position, holding him against his chest. Sans was crying silently, the sobs wracking his chest and vibrating through his whole body. And the horror, the hurt, the shock of seeing his big brother come apart in his arms…it broke Papyrus. He began to cry as well, his sobs much louder than his brother's.

"SANS, SANS, SANS," he moaned.

Sans wouldn't answer, he just hid his face deeper against Papyrus.

Time slipped by, and the grief wouldn't stop.

It was night before Papyrus felt his heart shrivel up, and the tears stopped. Sans had passed out in his arms, and they were both sticky with tears and sweat.

Wearily, Papyrus climbed the stairs to his room. He couldn't let Sans sleep by himself. Not while he was still under the influence. The new discovery of his brother's feelings made him uncomfortable with sharing a bed, but he had to put that aside for Sans.

He had to be the better brother now.

Lying across from Sans, staring at the white, small face still dirty with tears…Papyrus realized that things wouldn't be the same. They would have to work things out differently now.

And no one could know. Sans wouldn't allow it.

"Papyrus?" Sans whispered, and Papyrus focused on his little pupils in the darkness.

"Yes, Sans?"

"I'm sorry."

"Me too, Sans."

"We're one fucked-up family, aren't we?"

"Language, Sans."

"Ha. Sorry again."

"Sans…back there…when you were drunk…were you going to…r-rape me?"

"…I don't know. I can't remember much. I just remember how sick I felt, and how beautiful you looked, bro. I'm sorry if I invaded your space. I don't think I would have hurt you like that."

"Oh. That's good."

"Course, if I did try to…you know…you'd just stop me with one of your bonerific attacks."

"Nyeh-heh. Yep."

Sans looks more than exhausted. There are bags under his eyes, and sweat glides on his forehead. Papyrus hesitates, and then wipes it off.

"We'll work this out tomorrow, right?" Papyrus asks. He needs reassurance that this can be fixed. That everything will be alright, no matter what happens next.

"Yeah, don't worry bro. You'll probably forget it all before we even have to work it out."

"Oh, right. The…resets, right?"

"Uh-huh."

"But…but you'll remember, won't you?"

Sans blinks at him and then closes his eyes. He doesn't look ready for a relaxing sleep. He looks ready for a year of nightmares.

"Just part of my curse."