Much of Papyrus' childhood is fuzzy and unclear, but there are some moments that are crystal clear. Some of these are cozy and warm, others are embarrassing, and others still are varying levels of uncomfortable and painful, but nearly all of them involve his brother.

There's one memory in particular that he finds himself lingering on frequently; it's of himself staring into the mirror at about ten or eleven years old, marveling at his full set of permanent adult teeth and how sharp they were. He distinctly remembers how strange they all felt in his mouth, how wrong and too big they were.

Sans had come in later. "whatcha doin', paps?"

"My teeth feel weird." Papyrus had clicked his jaw shut and tapped little phalanges against the zigzag seam of his teeth.

Sans had frowned, all brotherly concern despite barely being out of stripes himself. "weird? weird how? does it hurt?"

Papyrus dropped his hands. "No." He'd paused, searching for the right words. "It just feels weird. Like- like my mouth closes too much."

Sans frown had pulled deeper, confused. "'too much'? what do you- oh yeah, that. you'll get used to it, don't worry bro."

The 'that' Sans had been referring to was the sensation of one's mouth closing too far after one graduates from flat teeth to pointy teeth that slot between each other.

Papyrus had frowned, still doubtful. "Okay."

Sans had knelt down on one knee, getting eye level with Papyrus. "hey, look at it this way: you look a lot like me now don't you?" Sans had grinned at him, showing off his full set of shark teeth.

"Yeah," Papyrus said slowly, in the way children do when an adult is explaining something to them.

"and i'm your cool big brother, right?"

"Yeah," Papyrus said, more emphatic.

"so that makes you cool too, right? a cool look for the best little brother in the underground!" Sans' eye lights were big and bright, something he'd rarely seen since.

Papyrus had grinned in response, his face brightening underneath the praise. "Yeah!" He paused, something occurring to him. "Wait, I'm your only little brother, Sans."

"so? that automatically makes you the best, doesn't it?" Sans was still grinning, unfazed.

"Well- ugh, whatever," Papyrus groaned, unwilling to argue semantics with him.

Sans had chuckled and gave him a few pats on the shoulder and stood up. "welp, i think there's some mac in the fridge callin' your name, buddy. how bout we get some dinner?"

Sans had been right, of course, but it took a while. Papyrus remembers many meals where his teeth made quicker work of his meat than expected and subsequently flung the food on his fork across the table, and Sans snickering while Papyrus would stab his fork angrily into the errant bit of food, flushing brightly and chewing with force. There were also many conversations with people and instances of grinding his teeth where the bumpy sides of his teeth would catch awkwardly on each other and he'd have to use every inch of his willpower to keep from shivering in discomfort and flailing at the weirdness of it.

Papyrus also remembers the first time he had to use those sharp teeth offensively. At the tender age of twelve, he'd bit deep into the shoulder of a fleshier monster around his age that had been picking on him, and he recalls vividly the sensation of ripping the flesh away - and it promptly dissolving to dust in his mouth. He doesn't remember what the other had done - wailed and run away, probably - but he'd promptly shoved the other away hard and spat out what hadn't fallen through the space in his mandible with something building in his chest that felt a lot like horror. The Dust had been gritty and tasted like ash, chalky and clinging to the inside of his mouth and he'd wanted it out and he'd begun scraping it out from the nooks and crannies of his mouth.

Papyrus doesnt remember how much time had passed, but the next thing he knew, Sans was calmly guiding him back to the house and into the bathroom where he murmured encouragements and thoroughly brushed his teeth with minty toothpaste. Sans had given him a piece of gum to chew on ("it'll help get the gritty feeling out, trust me.") and Papyrus had immediately popped it into his mouth, the incredibly sharp minty-ness of it scouring the inside of his skull.

Looking back on it, Sans had struck the delicate balance between praising his self-defense (his violence) and soothing the still-soft, horror-struck corner of his child-like mind. Sans had taken the same approach thereafter with every incident that left him shocked and horrified, and if Papyrus was being perfectly honest, it was probably the only thing that kept him sane and kept him from turning into a giant asshole (or at least, a worse one than he already was).

"hey boss, are ya gonna keep starin' at yourself or what? i know you're a handsome dude an' all, but if we don't get goin' soon, the captain's gonna break our door down, again."

Sans voice jerked Papyrus out of his reverie. He snapped his gaze from where it lingered on his teeth in the mirror over to Sans, who was leaning against the doorway. Don t get sassy with me, Sans, I know exactly what time it is! We won t be late! he declared. With an unnecessary flourish, he brushed past Sans and into the hallway. Upon reaching the stairway, something occurred to him and he abruptly stopped and turned around.

"uhh, is somethin' up, boss?" Sans asked.

Papyrus placed a gloved hand on Sans shoulder and found himself smiling fondly. "You're a good brother, Sans, you always have been. Don't let anyone, even yourself, tell you otherwise."

Sans blushed and shrunk in on himself, burying his face into the fluff of his collar. "aw geez, boss, what brought this on? you goin' soft on me?"

"I am never soft, I am the Great and Terrible Papyrus!" Papyrus hand slipped off Sans shoulder. "Just because I know I'm great doesn't mean you don't need a reminder yourself. Any brother of mine is cool!" He grinned, his face brightening.

Sans blushed brighter and shrunk further into his jacket. "thanks boss," he mumbled, unable to stop grinning. "let's get goin' huh?"

"Right! Of course!" Papyrus turned and headed down the stairs. "The captain waits for no one!"

Sans watched Papyrus for a moment before unshrinking from from his jacket. He shook his head fondly and started down the stairs himself. "heh heh. so cool."


A/N: i wanted to post something from my ao3 account on here, even if i never visit this site. i've also got some other stuff on there, too, so check it out: /users/therentistoodamnhigh