Prompt: "You haven't even touched your food." - King Papyrus ending
You haven't even touched your food..." His brother's voice startles Papyrus, making him look up sharply. "What's going on?"
He has to force down the automatic denial that tries to slip out.
Nothing's wrong. What would possibly be wrong?
It's not like all his friends are dead? It's not like he's expected to just carry on ruling the country as if he in any way would make a suitable ruler? It's not like his brother, the only family he has left, is lying to him on a daily basis?
No, sir. Nothing's wrong. Everything is going just spiffy, thank you very much.
"Papyrus?" Sans tries again, voice slightly firmer.
He blinks, realizing he was just blankly staring at the other's face for a few seconds there. He forces himself to grin, grateful for a skeleton's natural disposition for such a facial expression.
It makes it easier to fake his smiles.
"It's nothing, brother," he says, averting his gaze back to his plate. Just as Sans says, the noodles are soggy and untouched and the tomato sauce has taken on a rather unpleasant, half-congealed consistency. "I had too much for lunch."
Empty sockets rake over him for a second, and Papyrus has to try hard not to shiver under their scrutiny. When Sans looks at him this way, it's almost as if his brother can see straight through him.
But then Sans chuckles, and Papyrus remembers that's not true. He's excellent at deceiving Sans. Just as Sans deceives him continually.
It's just the way their relationship works.
It hasn't always been that way, and sometimes it saddens Papyrus to think about this, but it's how things are now and it works for them.
"Really, bro? That's a first..." Sans seems pleased. He is one of the only ones who knows about his... irregular eating habits.
Papyrus fiddles with his fork, pushing the food around on his plate. Almost absentmindedly, he gestures his hand in the general direction of the library. "I made something from the queen's cooking books. Quiche Lorraine? I think it turned out quite well..."
Sans says nothing, hands clenched tightly around the edge of the table, as he always does when Papyrus mentions their former ruler.
"There was some left over if you want it," he offers, watching his brother relax again and recompose the grin back onto his face.
They're not that different at all.
"Maybe later..." Sans says. He seems to be casting his mind around for a pun, but comes up empty. That happens a lot lately, Papyrus has noticed.
Looking back down at his plate, he carelessly lets the fork slip from his hand, clattering loudly against the wooden surface.
His chair makes a screeching noise when he scrapes it against the floor, avoiding his brother's eyes when he pushes back from the table.
When he's almost out of the room, he stops.
"Sans..." Papyrus pauses, wanting his voice to be loud and clear. He doesn't feel like he'll be able to ask this twice. "People can eat anything they want on vacation, right?"
To his credit, Sans answers immediately - no trace of hesitation in his voice. "Of course, Pap."
Papyrus is grateful that he's not facing his brother. He doesn't want Sans to see his grimace.
"Good. I'm glad," he lies, before leaving the room.
As always, thank you to the people who commented. It's appreciated!
If you want to leave me a prompt, my tumblr is: sharada-n
