Hey, congrats for 500 followers! For the drabble thing, could you please do #10 for the dialogue ("How drunk was I?") for Edgepuff? Thank you so much!
no problem!
tags: alcohol mention, drinking, blacking out, hangovers, mentioned past drugging, fluff
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He woke up with a sharp pain in his skull. Papyrus was used to having headaches, of course, but the fact that he ‘woke up’ in the first place was mildly concerning. He didn’t exactly remember falling asleep, or what led up to it, but he was fairly certain he’d gotten his monthly allotment for rest a week or so ago.
The pain got sharper as he sat up from… the couch? He squinted down at the cushions. No, he was certain he didn’t fall asleep here by choice. He was pretty sure no one would sleep on their couch voluntarily if they could help it, the protest of stiff magic in his spine evidence of such.
Footsteps approached him from behind and so he turned, the movement making the magic between his cervical vertebrae crackle in protest. Fell reached over the back of the couch, patting his shoulder gently. “Glad to see you’re awake,” he said.
Papyrus went to speak, but it came out hoarse. Fell’s other hand offered him a glass of water and he took it gratefully, drinking it quickly. When he was certain his voice wouldn’t give out, he asked, “Why am I on the couch?”
“I didn’t want your body to expel any magic in our bed. It’s not fun to get out of the sheets.”
He made an affronted noise. “I would never do such a thing!” As if to mock him, his soul roiled in protest and he could feel a pressure just under his jaw, nausea coiling. He took a deep breath, waiting until the feeling had mostly subsided to continue speaking. “What exactly happened last night?”
Fell raised a brow. “You don’t remember?”
Papyrus squinted at the wall, thinking. He knew they had a small party last night, and he knew Slim, Stretch, and Cash came over, and….. “Oh, god,” he said, “did they drug me again?”
At that the other snorted, shaking his head. Were his magic not pounding in his skull he would have been proud at getting the other to laugh. “No. Not since the ‘conversation’ we had last time.” Papyrus nodded, slowly.
“Then…”
Fell sighed, the kind of sound he usually made when Fang would yowl to be let out, and then continue to cry pitifully when Fell would put a leash on him and walk him around the yard (“Because it’s different up here,” he had said, “he can handle himself but if he wandered off and got hurt or got into something that could hurt him…” and Papyrus wouldn’t dare argue even if he disagreed- though he didn’t- because if making the poor creature angry at them was the cost for Fell’s own comfort then it was worth it). It was a sound he was used to hearing, but it didn’t grate on his bones the way it would have from others, less pitying and simply more fond.
“You had a drinking competition with Slim,” he said.
Papyrus frowned. “Did I win?”
“Yes,” Fell said. “But only after I realized that he’d been replacing his own drinks with water and started making him actually try.”
Papyrus swallowed, not wanting to ask it, but… “How drunk was I?”
When he glanced up, Fell was smirking. “Drunk enough to confess your ‘ultimate feelings’ and then dart outside to bench the car.”
Come to think of it, he did vaguely recall telling Fell that he loved him and then standing outside, holding his car above his head.
Fell didn’t seem too perturbed, though, just patting his shoulder once before walking back to the kitchen. “Would you like some coffee?”
Papyrus stood with a wince, picking up the knitted blanket- a gift from Toriel- and folding it slowly. “That sounds amazing.”
When he finished and walked into the kitchen to sit at the table, a mug full of coffee and his favorite creamer and sugar were already waiting for him.