Oh gods, I can't believe this is what I'm making my first contribution to this site.
Disclaimer: I don't own nor do I hold claim to Undertale or any of its parts.
It was a regular day in Snowdin. The shop was being stocked with fresh Cinnamon Buns and Bisicles, bun-buns were being walked, Grillby's was being opened to its regulars, and best of all, the skele-bros were beginning their rounds.
"BROTHER!" Papyrus called, "IT'S TIME TO HEAD TO OUR SENTRY STATIONS! YOU BETTER NOT STILL BE SLEEPING!" As he went to rouse his lazybones of a brother from his assumed sleep, he heard a chuckle, "heh, nah, i ain't sleeping. yet." "AGH! SANS!" The skeleton groaned, "WHATEVER, LET US BE OFF, WE'RE GOING TO BE LATE FOR OUR SHIFT!" He grabbed Sans and sprinted out into the early morning snow, ready and raring for the day. Bounding towards his station, Papyrus took a moment to look down at his passenger, to find him asleep. Again. "ARGH," He moaned, "NAPPING YET AGAIN! AT LEAST HE CAN'T PLAGUE ME WITH HORRIBLE PUNS IN HIS SLEEP." Just as this thought escaped his jaw, he heard Sans mutter, "what does a skeleton tile his roof with, shingles. heh." "RIGHT AFTER I SAID IT, TOO."
Carrying his boondoggling bro to, and plopping him in, his sentry station, Papyrus walked towards his own, personally crafted station. Only the greatest checkpoint for the greatest skeleton, after all. After a few minutes of fantasising about new puzzles he could make, his sharp mind drifted onto, less appropriate thoughts, "OH, HOW PASSIONATE OF YOU. IT SEEMS I'LL HAVE TO, RETURN THE FAVOUR~" The tall skeleton mumbled, half asleep, "NOT EVEN METTATON'S RECTANGULAR CURVES STAND UP TO YOUR PERFECTION~" He quickly shook himself out of such, lewd, fantasies and refocused his attention to recalibrating his puzzles.
As Papyrus quickly strode to his soon to be improved puzzles, he tried to keep his mind off of his earlier thoughts, though that proved to be quite difficult with how tantalising those thoughts were. "NNGH..." He groaned, feeling flushed just thinking of all those possibilities. "heya paps," "AGH!" The unrivalled spaghettore yelled, surprised by the sudden interruption, "SANS!? HOW DID YOU GET HERE?" A moment of silence passed as a look quickly flashed on the smaller skeleton's skull, one that could be described as incredulousness. "well, you looked pretty distracted when I passed by you, so I thought i'd leave you to your thoughts." He explained, "O-OH, I SEE. WELL, SH-SHALL WE RECALIBRATE OUR PUZZLES?" Papyrus asked, embarrassed by the reminder of what had occupied his mind. "uh, sure paps. let's go." Sans said, slightly worried for the taller skele, "MARVELOUS! ONWARDS!"
After a long day of patrolling and puzzle-making, Papyrus was back at home, while his brother took the time off to go to, ugh, Grillby's. He had nothing against the fire monster himself, but the food he served was so packed with grease it made his bones rattle in disgust. "UGH. I SIMPLY DON'T UNDERSTAND HOW SANS CAN STAND BEING IN THERE!" He yelled, "THEN AGAIN, HE'S SUCH A SLOB IT WOULDN'T SURPRISE ME IF HE HAD MORE GREASE THAN GRILLBY DOES!" He continued. To take his mind off that whole greasy debacle, he decided to make The Great Papyrus Special! Gathering the noodles from their cask, and the ingredients from their cupboards, he began the arduous task of creating such a culinary masterpiece. And after a while's work, it was complete, shining with edibility, Papyrus took the spaghetti from the kitchen, past the table, and straight to his room. He locked the door, as rare as that is, and turned to the noodle art he had created, "W-WELL THEN, SHALL WE GET STARTED?"
Changing out of his specially made battle body and into a more casual outfit of shorts and a hoodie, the blushing skeleton approached the spaghetti, and began, the SHOW. Grabbing a nearby fork, (A TRUE CHEF ALWAYS KEEPS COOKING UTENSILS AROUND) he delicately twirled the noodles onto his cutlery, and shoved it into his gaping jaw, absorbing the nutrients and moaning from the absolutely delectable sensation of the spaghetti. Forming a blue tongue from his magic, he wasted no time in shovelling another forkful of the culinary delight into his maw, only to keep it in there a while longer, using his tongue to properly taste it and swirl it all around his skull, Papyrus never thought spaghetti could be so, so, "SEXY~" He moaned, pulling in as much flavour and pleasure from every bite as he could, until his plate was empty, and his hunger satisfied.
Unlocking his door, he straggled out of his room, with the fork and plate in his bony hands, and headed to the kitchen to clean up. After cleaning up, the tall skeleton decided to head back to his room to sleep off this sudden exhaustion, but before he could take even a single step towards his room, he hears the front door click and sees Sans rush in, "heh, hey bro, you'll never guess wha-" He suddenly breaks off, noticing Papyrus' disheveled appearance, a light sheen of sweat on his skull, wrinkled and slightly stained clothes, and a lolling blue tongue still hanging out his jaw. "uh... did I interrupt something...?" Sans awkwardly asks, as Papyrus stares at him, and promptly proceeds to collapse upon his brother.
