Prompt: "Just pretend to be my date, okay?" with Papyrus and Flowey. Purely platonic, but how could I resist...
"Just pretend to be my date, okay?"
The words slip out before he knows it and he can feel the vines tighten around his wrist, nearly to the point of being painful.
"What?" Flowey hisses, eyes wide for a second and Papyrus throws him a glance, one that says 'please for the love of god don't make a bigger deal out of this than it has to be.'
Then again, he did just ask his best friend to pretend to be more-than-his-best-friend in public, so maybe that is a big deal.
Papyrus doesn't know, there wasn't anything in the handbook about this, and he skimmed every page at least 24 times.
"Please, jus-"
"Fine," Flowey says before he can even finish his sentence. His gaze skims the monsters gathered in Toriel's backyard through narrowed lids. "But why? Is your ex here or something?"
"Haha, very funny," Papyrus deadpans back at him, leaning closer across the tiny table they're sharing, fingers curling securely around the flowerpot Flowey has reluctantly taken as a home. "The Great Papyrus would never resort to something as petty as that."
"I'm sure you wouldn't," his friend answers slyly, sarcasm evident in the tone of his voice and it makes the skeleton smile despite himself.
Flowey knows him better than anyone.
Papyrus has scooted over almost completely, barely an inch between them now and it makes Flowey incredibly self-conscious all of the sudden. An outsider looking at them - at the way Papyrus has practically heaved the flowerpot into his lap or the way Flowey's vines curl around both of the skeleton's hands now - surely might think they aren't merely best friends.
He suddenly has to try hard not to start giggling at the absurdity of it all.
"So who are we fooling?" he whispers, close enough to feel Papyrus' heat, the radiance of a soul Flowey lacks. It's kind of nice.
"Sans."
Flowey pulls back then, unable to put much distance between them in their current position but enough so he can show Papyrus just how annoyed he is at this answer.
"Trashbag Sans?"
Papyrus frowns a bit at the nickname. "My brother Sans, yes."
They stare at each other for one fragile moment and it looks very much like Papyrus is the one trying to suppress his laughter this time around.
"Why?" Flowey repeats, displeased and his best friend pulls him closer still, actually putting the flowerpot onto his lap for real this time.
"Because it will vex him."
He opens his mouth to reply, maybe some scathing remark to show how low they've fallen if they're resorting to old-school deception just to annoy the trashbag. Then he closes it again.
"Fair enough." He leans back in, the gesture comes as close to sitting with his arm around his friend's shoulder as he can manage. "But what was that about not being petty?"
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