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Hello, Alluvion

Summary:

Working for two of the most influential monsters while running on caffeine and plagued by chronic insomnia isn't quite the life Error saw for himself. But it's fine! He's got his best friend and all he's got to do is keep his weapons oiled and his alibies straight. It's not as if the pressure of years as a mercenary keeps him up at night. Nope, not a lick.
Then the chance meeting at the coffee shop occurred. He met Blue, with his endearing stupid smile, and eagerness to get to know him. Error could see he was going to be a problem, especially when he insisted on paying for his coffee that morning. His life took a turn, he felt so alive, someone understood him, wanted him even!
Or so he thought. How could he have been so wrong?
Bottom line is he should've been more cautious.

Notes:

Reference for Altered names:

  • Kuroo = Horrortale Sans
  • Classy = Classic Cans
  • Kills = Killer Sans

Chapter Text

The coffee house attracted Blue’s attention in the dark morning, the coffee-cup shaped neon sign promising warmth and caffeine to motivate him. The strong scent of freshly roasted coffee had been evident all the way down the street where he was staying–thank Stars it was so close! Pushing open the door with the tinny bell, he inhaled and hummed in appreciation at the wave of balmy air encompassing his chilled bones. His navy parka might as well have been made of paper for all the good it did.

The industrial, nouveau interior was decorated with vivid colors, appealing to the idealistic decor he fantasized about creating for himself one day in his own space. He adjusted his leather bag on his shoulder and strode towards the counter. He perused the drink and food items with enthusiasm, his mouth watering at the idea of a pistachio and chocolate croissant. He wondered if the pastries were still warm.

A flutter of motion, crumpled receipts on the counter, and a glitched utterance of ‘shit’ pulled his attention elsewhere. The fellow ahead of him hissed a few more choice words as he dug through his coat pockets, coming up absolutely dry. Blue quirked a brow.

“If you’re going to act like a toddler and call me names because you can’t pay for the cheapest coffee on our menu, then you can see your way out,” the cashier snarked boredly, voice hardly deviating from a monotonous drone.

Smacking his forehead, the guy grumbled, ready to take his leave as he gathered up his receipt entourage in front of the cash register. The cashier flicked a forgotten receipt to the floor where it landed at Blue’s meticulously polished dress shoes. Blue saw his chance and he took it.

“Hey, I can cover it,” he proposed.

The stranger appeared taken aback, stiffening in response to his voice. Whirling around, his rouge, yellow, and white eyelights searched Blue’s face, glowing more intensely as he picked apart his appearance. Ah, a skeleton like himself. Blue couldn’t help the warmth that tickled his soul as he observed that one eye socket was slightly bigger than the other, giving the stranger an expression of perpetual skepticism. The azure stripes running adjacent down his cheeks were wonderfully unique; Blue was certain he’d never seen another skeleton monster with such unique marks before.

“No, no, you don’t ha-ave to do that,” the stranger insisted, shoving his crinkled notes back into his pockets.

Blue chuckled, waving his hand dismissively. “Sure, I don’t have to. I’m offering.” Blue handed the cashier the money to pay for the others’ drink, offering a gentle smile.

The cashier rolled her eyes. “Oh, wow, charity for the pauper. Hey, my rent is due next week. You wanna help me pay for that, bud? Or are you only offering to drop a whole dollar and 87 cents because he radiates two-bit whore energy and you think you actually have a chance to jump into those century old pants he’s worn everyday for the past decade?”

Blue’s smile waned. How did he react to that? Would it be better if he didn’t acknowledge the fact that the cashier was rude? A sharp ‘pop’ caused him to flinch, snapping him out of his stupor, and Blue blinked, acutely aware of the grossly loud smacking emitting from the human’s mouth. Sticky, fuchsia bubblegum, stretched into a thin membrane as she stuck her tongue through it, daring Blue to comment on her crude behavior. Pop.

Error flashed the cashier a glare before pinching the bridge of his nose. Hoping to salvage the situation, he stated, “I’ll take a latte with vanilla and cinnamon with a custard pastry. Make that a large coffee and heat the food if you will.” He set down the money and turned his back on the cashier. Smile strained, but spirits undefeated, he addressed Error. “My name’s Blue, by the way. I’ve forgotten my wallet countless times before. Such an inconvenience, huh?”

“It’s Eero,” he grumbled, not willing to give the stranger his real title. He doubted he’d see the weirdly optimistic fool again. Blue thrusted a hand forward, excited at the prospect of knowing a single someone in Ebot city. Error glanced down at Blue’s hand, then met the other’s eyes before taking the offered hand belatedly. Blue noted the fingerless leather gloves, and the black, red, and yellow tipped phalanges. ‘This guy’s practically a fresco of the most colorful bones I’ve ever seen.’

“Nice meeting you, Eero.” Error offered another nod, the pseudonym reminding him that he’d be rid of the interaction soon enough as he shoved his hands back into his pockets. Blue didn’t blame him, with the below zero temperatures threatening to steal any exposed fingers or toes. Blue supposed his new acquaintance was the quiet type. Maybe he could work on coaxing him out of his shell a bit if he made small talk. It was always worth a try.

“Just arrived in the city not a week ago. Perfect time for this cold front to come through, too. Heh, ya know, you’re the first person I’ve actually talked to outside of my boss back in Chicago?”

“Huh.” Error acknowledged, preferring to look anywhere but at the one who just paid for his drink. If he could have been absorbed by his scarf, he would’ve taken the opportunity and cherished it. Maybe Blue would become bored with his presence if he stopped responding.

“She’s got a winning attitude, doesn’t she? I mean, that was uncalled for,” Blue glanced back, half expecting the girl to be peering over his shoulder. “Do you know her?”

Error sighed. “Unfor-for-fortunately.”

“Is she always so tactless?” Blue’s brows pinched as he stole glances at Eero’s visage. His presence was appreciated–experiencing the cashier alone would have been unpleasant.

“Chara’s always a disparaging biTch,” Error commented, eyelights flicking over to Blue momentarily to catch his twitch at his derogatory language. “Especially to me-e.”

“What did you do to get her this ticked at you?” Blue chuckled, running a hand over the back of his cervical vertebrae. Error scoffed.

“Literally no idea. It doesn’t take much, as you can see.”

“Mocha cappuccino for the trash bag with legs,” Chara announced, and Blue’s brows shot up. ‘Seriously?’ “Plus the pastry and latte for you, lover boy. You should really reconsider your options, your standards can’t get much lower than this guy.”

“That’s very rude, you know,” Blue stated pointedly as he snatched his order. “Seriously, what’s your problem?”

“I don’t need one, hon,” Chara stated, smiling facetiously, her charcoal lined eyes squinting in her mirth. Blue’s grin faltered as he sized up this strange barista. “You should catch a hint, by the way. Glitchy wouldn’t know normal interaction if it hit him in the face. Yer better off going to the club down the street if you’re after some tail.” Blue grimaced. ‘What is her deal?’ Shrugging, he turned around to talk to Error once more only to realize his new acquaintance was absent. Feeling slightly bereft, Blue followed suit and exited the coffee house.

The weekend opened with calls, online meetings, and the wonderful process of establishing a place to live downtown. He found an apartment after thoroughly searching, making more calls, attending walkthroughs, and meticulously note taking. Moving into his apartment alone was a chore, but after disassembling all of his bulky furniture, he managed. His brother called him a few times, but after the first unwanted attempt at contact, Blue had turned his ringer off. He contemplated blocking him, but their relationship was teetering on the edge. While Blue wanted nothing more than to cut ties at this point, but for now he resisted, if only to avoid the drama incited by his older sibling. Settling in, or at least trying to, was a chore in and of itself. Blue was lonely.

Coffee sounded nice, even if it meant dealing with the unpleasant barista. Pulling on his parka and gathering his work materials, Blue locked his apartment and headed out. His cell phone rang, and Blue’s immediate reaction was to tamp down the rising anger, fully expecting it to be his nuisance-of-a-brother once more. Pulling out the phone, he read his manager’s name on the illuminated screen. He answered it without a moment’s hesitation.

“Good afternoon, Dream.”

“Blue, have you been cued into the news?”

“I just moved into my new place, sir. Haven’t gotten much set up aside from my microwave. Why? What’s up?”

“There were two found dead, four injured. They suspect there’s more, there was a blood trail and dust as well. I need you to be following this closely. This isn’t random slaughter, it’s systematic and it’s going to keep happening,” Dream insisted, voice gravely serious.

“Of course. I’ll look into it as soon as I reach my location. Connection hasn’t exactly been a breeze with the guest internet and my phone service is finicky. I’m getting it resolved as soon as possible.”

“Keep me up to date, Blue. Reports are at the end of each week, don’t forget.”

“I haven’t forgotten. I’m about to enter a noisy coffee house. I can reconnect later. Sound good?”

“That works. Later.”

Blue pocketed his phone and felt his spirits sore when he spied an indigo jacket from across the room and a familiar black skull to boot. He rushed into the coffeehouse, smile tugging at his lips as he reached the line, conveniently positioned right behind his unaware acquaintance. He didn’t even have to open his mouth for Error to glance nonchalantly over his shoulder before his pupils contracted into pinpoints. Blue waved, overjoyed to see him again. Luck was certainly on his side.

“Long time no see,” Blue stated. Error appeared as though he’d just seen a ghost and Blue had his work cut out for him as he barely stifled a laugh. The guy accompanying Eero was taller, with a horizontal scar running horizontally across his right cheek. His red and white mismatched eyes looked over him critically before glancing between Error and Blue. “We must be destined to be best friends, huh?”

The stranger scoffed before remarking, “Buddy, he’s as friendless as they come. What are you playing at?”

“Fu-uck you too,” Error snarled.

“Hey, just saying it how it is. I’m Cross by the way.”

“Blue.” He shook the guy’s hand and turned to Error.

“Are you going to order or what?” Error snapped. Cross snorted, uttering ‘down boy’ to which Error huffed. He wasn’t going to censor himself for the nice guy who seemed to twitch every time he let a curse slip past his lips. He was too tired for that crap.

“Oh yeah. Sure.” Blue went ahead, listing off his order from last time, minus the custard pastry. As much as he liked sweets, the one he ordered last time made his teeth ache. He pulled out his card, but was thwarted by Error, who slapped the cash down on the counter. “It’s okay-”

“Yeah right, you don-don’t get to go paying for my shit and then not let me pay you back. I’m paying for your order. So deal.” Error dropped change into the tip jar begrudgingly, sneering at Chara for good measure.

“Are you too polite to tell someone that ‘no means no’ or are you just that desperate to get dicked down today?” The barista asked, coppery eyes piercing.

Error was tempted to scrounge the change he dropped in the tip jar back out and throw it at the smug woman’s face. “If I craved cock you wouldn’t be privy to where I’d be getting it from, twat. And I definitely wouldn’t have to pick it up at your shitty coffee shop of all places,” Error growled.

“M’kay, whatever tickles your peach,” Chara chirped, waltzing back to the espresso machine to pull shots for the drinks.

“Thanks,” Blue uttered, certain he’d stepped on the other’s toes indirectly. Not that he couldn’t remedy that–he was determined to make the guy’s day a little less bleak. It was just a matter of time. “You know, I just moved into a place down the road. I haven’t met anyone here aside from you guys, and I was thinking of making tacos and breaking out drinks to celebrate. Would you guys want to join me?”

“Stars, yes,” Cross responded, tension bleeding away from his shoulders as he relaxed his stance a touch. “I haven’t had a home cooked meal since–” he wrinkled his nasal ridge and shrugged, “Far too long. That sounds like hell of a good time to me.”

Error would’ve turned him down in an instant, but seeing that meal planning was a part of Cross’ repertoire, he begrudgingly agreed to accompany him to Blue’s abode. It didn’t mean he had to like it. He could grumble and act crude, relishing when Blue’s cheery expression would falter momentarily when he slipped a curse in here and there. The guy was far too polite to tell him off, though.

“My place of work is back in Chicago, but I’m here for an extended period for journalism. Ebot’s got a lot of history I hear, so the bosses wanted me to do some research into it, talk to the locals, yada yada,” Blue explained, sipping his coffee. Chara was a crappy human being, but she sure knew how to make a good latte. Didn’t mean he had to like her. “Plus, there’s the deaths to keep up with. Another significant incident happened this morning–did you guys hear about it?”

“Got the Ebot Local News’ summary of the events, but not much else yet,” Cross replied. “Eero?”

“Just caught a short scoop. They won’t d-divulge a lot. Authorities don’t want to incite panic.”

“Fair enough,” Blue conceded. “Does it worry you? I mean, there’s been a lot of ‘em in a short period of time. It’s concerning to think about, especially since I’m going to be staying here for the foreseeable future.”

“‘Worried' is an understatement. Since the deaths have been both monster and human, it’s clear whomever is carrying this out doesn’t discriminate. You really can’t be careful enough,” Cross emphasized, entering the building behind Error as Blue held the door for them.

“They’re unpredictable. That’s what’s alarming,” Error stated. “You might thin-ink you’ve caught onto a pattern, only to find out there’s none.”

“I agree completely. From what I’ve seen, things look pretty grim,” Blue unlocked the door to his place welcoming his guests inside. “Make yourselves comfortable, guys. Do either of you like wine? Beer?”

“Wine sounds good. Not a bad place you got here, Blue. Nice view of, uh,” Cross squinted and chuckled, “Bricks. They pack the buildings together like sardines in this city. Welcome to Ebot.”

“Heh, thanks. Yeah, I’m just thankful sunlight makes it into the apartment. Eero, you want something to sip on?”

Error flopped onto the couch, sighing as the furniture attempted to swallow him whole. “Wine.”

“Alright. I’ll get things started.” Blue clasped his hands together, reaching above the island counter to snag a pan hanging from the ceiling rack.

“What have you dra-a-agged me into?” Eero hissed quietly at Cross, who took a seat next to him on the couch. Cross grinned smugly.

“You’re blind if you can’t see that this journalist is head over heels for you. It’s fucking adorable.”

Cross,” Error stated slowly and deliberately, “What did I tell you about roping me into social events?”

“Tch. Okay, then learn to outdo me in social situations so I’m not accepting invitations on your behalf,” Cross remarked. Error grunted, looking away from his companion. He was pissed. “It’s one guy, dude. Chill out. He’s desperate for company and so are you. I’m not saying fuck him, I’m just saying be a little open and it’ll go a long way. Come on.”

“I hate you. I hate you and your s-stupid face,” Error snarled under his breath. Cross smiled, accepting his friend’s sour attitude for the time being. Blue returned to the living room bearing two cups of cabernet and an apron that read ‘Simmer Down’. Cross made a comment on it and Error rolled his eyelights.

“I’m sorry about the lack of working TV, I swore I’d get stuff hooked up, but here we are.”

“You’re doing fine,” Cross said, nudging Error when he remained as unenthusiastic as ever. “Toast to your new place?” Three glasses of wine clinked together and then Blue was hurrying back to the kitchen to check on the meat. Cross clicked his tongue, pinning Error with a look of disapproval. “You’re missing an opportunity, dude. Being an ass isn’t going to get you anywhere. Do you really think the guy is that bad?”

“I never said he was bad. You’re just putting words in my-y mouth now.”

“Stars, it’s like pulling teeth with you,” Cross stated, irritability creeping into his tone. “Go ahead, throw it away. He’s a sweet fella, he wants to get to know you, and of course you’re going to squander it. Damn it, Error. Are you gonna cook good food for me then?”

“Don’t c-call me that here,” Error snapped, “And hell no, I don’t cook-”

“Food’s ready!” Blue’s voice carried from the kitchen. Cross didn’t wait for Error when he jumped up from the couch, his magic asking to be fueled by something other than frozen dinners and carry out. Error trailed behind. He loathed to admit it, but the food was delicious. The meat was tender and melted on his tongues and the guacamole and other condiments meshed perfectly. Before he’d realized it, Error was reaching out across the table to snag another, biting into the crisp shell. Blue beamed as he watched his guests devour his culinary creation, feeling proud of his hosting. Even when the consumption slowed to a halt, he packaged the leftovers into a sizable Tupperware and sent them home with his new companions.

“So, now you’ve got my number. Don’t be strangers, guys. I’ll be glad to cook for ya anytime.” Blue flashed a smile at Error, who pretended not to see the way the guy’s eyelights lit up a vivid cerulean. No one looked at him like that–at least no one that he noticed. Was it bad he couldn’t think of a single bad thing to say about Blue? Usually he had a list and a reason to hold a grudge.

Cross’ shit eating grin was burning a hole in Error’s back on the way out of the apartment building. Error ground his teeth together, clenching his hands in his pockets. “You liked his food. Don’t even try to deny it, I saw you going back for seconds and thirds, buddy boy.”

“Fine. Fine, I didn’t choke and d-die after consuming his food. We can come back again if you’re so desperate. Fuck.”

Cross fist pumped, so satiated from the tacos they’d consumed he was certain he’d collapse as soon as they returned to their flat. Sleep came easy to him. Meanwhile, Error sat in the window seat in the living room, knees to his chest as the tacos left him uncomfortably full. The pressure seemed to be helping, until it wasn’t. The blanket over his shoulders staved off the chill at least. He had an ungodly amount of energy, and since he couldn’t dispel his magic currently, he was stuck in a jittery, unpleasant state between restless and overtired. Hugging his blanket around himself and pouting, he rolled around on the floor, watching the room flip angles over and over. When he grew bored of that, he inched along the ground like an oversized worm, grunting and growling as he contemplated what it would be like to operate without arms or legs. Eventually, he just became plain angry, cursing and throwing his legs out against the floor. Fuck being awake.

A bedroom door slammed open, and Error was pinned with a glare. “Can you shut the fuck up? Some of us are trying to sleep here. I get you’re an insomniac, but you need to get your shit together. Quietly.” Cross didn’t wait for a response, punctuating the end of his speech with another resounding slam of his bedroom door. Error groaned.

He wouldn’t consider the pitiful rest he experienced sleep, but he’d take what he was given. Cross’ bare feet against the floorboards was leaden weight thumping the interior of his skull. As he arrived in the main room to start brewing coffee, Error wished he had his arms out of the blankets so he could flip him off. Error attempted to burrow into his blanket tube he’d immersed himself in and yet each sound brought him further into alertness. He wished he could sleep like other monsters, uninterrupted and soundly throughout the night, but instead he got this paltry deal. It sucked.

“Morning,” Cross grumbled. Error gave up.

He opened one eye and lifted his head. “I swear, if you so much as breathe in my direction, I will end your pitiful existence.”

Cross snorted. “A'ight Cleopatra.”

“Oh so now you can use a different name!” Error let his skull thunk back against the floor, willing himself not to shed tears of anger as he asked himself how he used to sleep. It used to be so easy! Fuck this!

Error was on his fourth coffee of the day as he drove towards the mansion tucked away in the forest outside the city limits. Parking his inconspicuous sedan sorely in need of a new paint job in the lengthy driveway, he strolled up to the front door, announcing his presence with the steel knocker. Deep barking reverberated behind the door, accompanied by snarling as footsteps approached. Error was wary of dogs, sporting his share of marks from overly enthusiastic canines in the past who decided to try their luck at taking a mouthful of bone. He could rest assured these beasts were all bark and no bite, though, at least when it concerned himself.

“Right on time.” His employer stepped aside, encouraging his Cane Corso duo to make way for his guest. They eagerly sniffed at their master’s ‘guard’, recognizing him on sight. It didn’t hurt for Error to give the two scritches to ease his nervous energy. They weren’t shy about shoving their big noses into his jacket pockets or lapping at his fingertips. “It’s always a treat to see you. You’re the only one who's never ceased to impress me, you know.”

“Thank you, Mr. Joku. You’ve sa-said so before.”

“Error, please, it’s Nightmare,” the tentacled monster purred, a stern smile aimed in Error’s direction conveying just how serious he was. Far too tired, and used to his employer’s antics, he rolled with the punches.

“Of course. Night-Nightmare. My bad, must’ve f-forgotten.”

“I don’t mind reminding you, Error. Let Kuroo grab you a drink and come with me,” Nightmare insisted, beckoning his butler over to him. The skeleton monster was tall, and his one crimson eyelight had been an intimidating spectacle when Error had first begun working for Nightmare. Error was very familiar with the monster now, though. Kuroo was always especially hospitable to him.

“The wine I had last time was the best I’ve had-d. It was a white wine, I can’t recall the name-”

“Hmm,” he contemplated, tapping his chin. “I believe it was…White Lies,” Kuroo supplied, in his deep, gravelly voice. Nightmare snapped his digits in agreement, his tentacles twisting in satisfaction.

“That is the one. Your memory has improved, Kuroo. Pour one for Error here, and another for myself. Then take a break, will you? I can tell when you’ve been pushing yourself to your limits. Remind Classy I want to speak with him later concerning the wine brewing system.”

“Of course...Nightmare. Welcome, Error.” And with a nod, Kuroo left them to do his boss’ bidding. Homelessness and lack of any real family was what Kuroo’s life consisted of before Nightmare hired him. Nightmare gave him room and board, paid him well, and provided him a purpose. Error had never in his life seen a guy with one functioning eyelight and a gaping hole in his skull look so radiant. Kuroo’s stilted manner of speaking led some to doubt his intelligence, but so be it. His skull injury had been traumatic, and he’d never had the money to invest in speech therapy or a decent healer.

Nightmare had offered to provide the money to repair the hole, and Kuroo had kindly turned him down. His speech impediment was not nearly as severe as it had been in the beginning. It certainly could’ve been worse. Kuroo was by all means loyal to his employer and master of the house, unable to recall a time he’d ever experienced happiness as genuine as that which he experienced now. Uncorking and pouring the wine with care, he carried the tray back to Nightmare and his guest.

“Enjoy,” Kuroo hummed, offering the drinks and heading off to enjoy his break. He daydreamed about succulent, rare cooked mutton in a red wine sauce, paired with a side of something tart, possibly a gazpacho or cooled curry.

“Yep, this is the one.” Error sipped contentedly at the refreshingly crisp wine, closing his eyes and leaning back in a chair. Maybe he was a little too relaxed in his employer’s home, but familiarity bred this kind of tranquility. Not to mention his lack of any real sleep was making the chair he was seated in far more comfortable than it had any right to be, and if he let his mind wander, he could see himself drifting-

“Brilliant. You’ve got good taste.” He swirled the liquid in his glass, smirking. “Meanwhile, Fell wouldn’t know a good glass of wine if it hit him in the face. He’d drink battery acid and call it a good brew. Tsk.”

Error was alert, not asleep–no, not at all. He steadied the drink in his hand and held it up to his mouth again, swallowing down the cold beverage. Clearing his throat, he replied, “More like I can acknow-owledge good taste. You’re the one who intro-oduces me to all of this. Is this one yours?” He asked, tip-toeing around the comment about Fell, assuming he was talking about Red.

Nightmare smirked, his tentacles curling at the tips with the mirth in his features. “Can you really tell? This is one of the oldest of my bottles.”

“It’s fantastic, Night.” Error finished his glass, leaning back in his seat. So what if it was unprofessional in nature–it was either fall asleep sitting up or slightly reclined. “I, uh, I’m listening, if you wanna brief me on my job.”

“Of course.” Nightmare began going over what Error already suspected: ‘there’s this guy who was a thorn in his side, getting in the way and getting gunk in the gears. Make it look natural.’ Not even ten minutes in, Nightmare realized his prized hitman was deep in sleep, which was a rarity judging from the wells of dark pigmentation under Error’s eye sockets. He decided to wait for a while, retrieving a book from the shelves behind him. Opening up to where he’d left off, he settled in.

Error awoke to the scent of something succulent, his sockets bleary from finally closing for more than fifteen minutes at a time. Groggily, he moved to sit up, gripping the blanket over him close like a shield against the outside world. Then he stiffened. This was a job meeting, and he had slept through it–Nightmare would probably go with someone else, judging his conduct during their face to face as unprofessional.

“Well, hello there. You’ve returned to the land of the living,” a sonorous voice caught his attention, pulling him out of the downward spiral his mind nearly dove into. The vineyard owner shut his novel, setting it to the side as he smiled purposefully at Error. “How was your rest?”

“M-my apologies,” Error muttered, resituating himself as shame tinted his face. “Sleep hasn’t come easily to me re-recently.”

“No need to be sorry,” Nightmare replied, nursing his second glass of wine. “If you’re tired, please, be my guest. I can tell you need it.”

Error was certain there were implications that accompanied loitering around his employer’s home more than what was strictly necessary. He didn’t want to make that a habit, lest he become ensnared by his own carelessness. Slipping up meant losing a large amount of his income, and while he could work with that, he’d rather not have to.

“I…appreciate it.”

“Would you stay for dinner? I’d like to discuss the details of the job with you.”

Error hesitated, before conceding. “Yes, I’d like tha-at.”

Error departed the manor feeling satiated, yet exhaustion still clouded his cranium. Igniting the engine to his car, he squinted at the setting sun as he pulled out of the driveway the way he came. Cross would definitely have something to say about his late arrival home tonight, but he had meetings to attend. He’d text him when he arrived at the Fells’.

Error rang the doorbell at the looming home of the brothers, tugging his jacket closer to his frame as nighttime brought a sharp chill. He sucked in icy air through his teeth as he trembled, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. The door opened to reveal a skeleton monster with a black, spiked collar and a leather jacket, imbedded with the lingering scent of the fireside and tobacco. Red was a personable monster in Error’s experience, someone to be respected and kept at an arm’s length. His sharp teeth glinted in the dim light of the evening, red eyelights warming with recognition. “Well hello, Strings. Long time no see. Come on an’ get yerself out of the cold.”

Error nodded, stepping into the balmy atmosphere of the brothers’ large home. The space was industrial yet homey, filled with metals, leathers, and exposed brick. A fire roared in the hearth, and Error was drawn to it like a moth to light. He listened to the clink of glasses, realizing he was in for more drinks that would likely tempt him to doze off once more. He should request a few shots of espresso. He was well aware the brothers had live-in maids and butlers to operate their extensive list of appliances.

“How ‘bout we toast? Boss is with a few pals, don’ think he’ll be back for a while yet. He’ll wanna see ya too.”

“Sounds ag-g-greeable,” Error said, shedding his crisp jacket in favor of a furry blanket to coat himself in. He sighed, readily accepting a glass of whiskey, and clinking it against Red’s. The whiskey burned his formed throat all the way down, making him long for the far less caustic quality of Nightmare’s wine. He dealt with it, though--no need to make a fuss over a drink he was offered.

“To yer talent, Strings. Yer a damn good cutthroat.” Red chuckled, pleased with his declaration as Error’s brows twitched. He was certain the freelancer didn’t realize how emotive he was at times, especially with those wild eyelights of his. Taking in all of the nuances of Error’s appearance boggled his mind sometimes, especially if he was already buzzed. That wasn’t to say he wasn’t a handsome guy; he was unique and Red liked it. It kept him on his toes. “Ya want somethin’ sweeter?”

He was found out. Hoping he hadn’t insulted him, he uttered, “Uh, yeah, if t-th-tHat’s an option.”

“Tch. Yer funny, ya know that? Why’d I offer if I didn’ have options?” Red strode towards the cellar of alcohol, sliding the door open with ease. Red Fell was thick-boned, with scars littering his frame, and when he summoned his ecto to fill out his outfits, he filled them. Nothing about him was petite, save for the fact that he was shorter than his younger brother, which rubbed him the wrong way. On the other hand, Boss was lanky where he was stocky, and if they got into a pissing contest, he could throw that out and rub it in the younger’s face. “What d'ya like, Strings? Red, white, rosé?”

“Rosé.”

“I’ve got one ya’ll probably like. Come ta daddy,” Red coaxed, reaching up for the bottle of wine stored above his head. Boss insisted on keeping a variety of wine in the house, while Red settled for whiskey, gin, vodka, or anything that would get him drunk and keep him there. Whiskey was definitely his favorite, though. “There we are. Lucky fer ya, Boss is a thoughtful son-of-a-bitch.”

“So he is,” Error agreed, watching as he was poured a glass of peach colored, sparkling drink. “Thank you, Fell.”

“And we’ve been over this, Strings. Fell’s my father. Stars, yer practically family at this point. Lighten up a bit, will ya?” He handed Error the large portion of wine and sat down next to him, shedding his jacket to feel the heat of the fire on his bones. “Ya don’ have to be so skittish. I don’ bite,” Red chuckled, before adding, “Well, unless asked.”

Error nearly choked on the mouthful of wine he’d practically inhaled. Swallowing quickly, he couldn’t help the fact that his face was burning. Sometimes he hated his excessively colorful bones.

“Look at ya! Fuck, yer practically glowing.”

‘Oh stop, please stop’. Error hoped it would dissipate, but it was a gamble. He finished his glass of wine and held out his glass, which Red refilled. “T-thanks. It’s good.”

“Hey, don’ clam up on me now. Come on, it’s just drinks and talkin’. No harm, right?” Red refilled his own glass, leaning back into the couch.

“It was a long day.”

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

“Not much sleep. Haven’t slept well in a long time,” Error stated.

“No? Somethin’ on yer mind that’s been keepin’ ya up?” Red asked. Error shook his head, sighing.

“It’s just how it is now. Days run into each other, and it just becomes this cycle. Co-o-offee only helps so much after a certain point.”

“And ya still manage to do all ya do, huh?”

“Yup.” Error nursed his drink, feeling the effects of it in his cranium. Cotton soft sensations filled his skull, accompanied by the hyper awareness of the flux of his soul. Scent of the leather and whiskey filled his olfactory receptors, and he hummed, releasing some of the tension in his shoulders. “How’s your sleep, Red?”

“Sleep like a rock. Boss ends up throwin’ shit at me to wake me up. Sometimes he just gives up.”

Snrkt. Error clapped a hand over his nose and mouth, giggling after that dignified snort. His magic sucked the wine up like a sponge, leaving him feeling giddy. Red laughed along with him.

“You sle-eep through that? What’s wrong with you?” Error laughed, the tickle of wine in his throat and the giddiness amassing into a pleasantly uplifting buzz. He could have another glass, surely. He squinted in his mirth, feeling downright goofy as he thrust his empty glass out towards his edgy boss. “It, uh, it’s empty,” he stated, as though Red didn’t have eyelights to observe that he’d drained his drink once more.

“Heh, no shit, sweetheart.” Red plucked the stopper from the bottle and poured what was left into the glass, filling it up over halfway. He treated himself to another drink as well, smirking as he caught Error looking down into his cup, eyes half lidded. ‘It figures he’s a lightweight. Doesn’t know how to chill out.’ “Ya lost there, Strings?”

“I guess I was,” he replied, resuming his drinking pace. Flavors of fruit, sweet, acidic, and juicy flowed over his tongues, feeding his magic to a bursting point. There was so much excess Error didn’t know what to do with it, so he just let himself be a passenger to his soul’s overfed euphoria. Before he knew it, he’d polished it off, and set his glass down far harder than he’d meant to, surprising himself. “Oh.”

“Yer fine. Just sit back n’ relax a minute. Think I might needa cut ya off before ya topple over,” Red commented, lighting a cigar. The walls moved with the flames in the hearth, and Error’s rib cage felt as though it might overflow with heat. He rolled his head to the side to take in Red’s visage as he exhaled a ploom of smoke into the air. He received a sly grin in return. “What?”

Error shrugged, smiling for no reason other than he felt like his limbs and body had turned to jello. “Nothin’.”

“Ya look like yer feelin’ real good. Am I right?”

Error nodded, wondering when they’d gotten so close together. Red was so warm, like the fire tempered down to just the right temperature. Error’s eyes were shut, just listening to the ambience of the atmosphere, getting lost in the crackling of the fire, the pop of the wood as it shifted, the lulling sound of a soul pumping magic through glowing crimson veins…

He startled, realizing he was slouched against Red’s side–he was certain his boss didn’t want him smothering his space. He tried to find his balance, his limbs, his will to move, yet he stuck to the couch like a lead brick. He only did more harm than good, slipping and toppling onto Red further. “Shit–”

“C’mon, yer fine, Strings. Easy.” Smoke spilled out between pointed teeth, his eyelights red pips behind the haze. “Y’alright?”

“I’m–I…” Error’s soul felt as though it was trapped in his throat. He felt so pleasantly disconnected, yet wholly involved in the sensations flooding his bones. This was definitely the most drunk he’d ever been and it wasn’t terrible. He smiled again, looking up at his intimidating employer, and watched his hand as he reached out to trace the deep crack which caused Red’s left eye socket disfigured. One part of him was horrified that his hand was feeling up his boss’ face while another was high off of the fact that he was doing so. Red’s expression was curious.

“Watcha doin’?” He asked, letting the inebriated freelancer trace the chunk missing from his brow and zygomatic bone. It was so gentle, and entirely strange seeing the tri-colored digits so close. Every little detail Red could pick out, down to the hairline fracture on the middle joint of the pinky phalange. “Havin’ fun there?”

“I like it.”

“I can see that.” Red chuckled. “Why’s that?”

Error pondered, searching his drink muddled thoughts for an answer. “You, um, wear it well.”

Red burst out laughing. “Ya callin’ me handsome, Strings?”

“Your turn.” Error retrieved Red’s hand, placing it against his own cheekbone. Red quirked an eyebrow, noting the feeling of the blue stripes running vertically down Error’s face. He’d seen Error touch them before when performing a party trick, but feeling them himself was entirely new. The texture was slightly sticky, yet not; he shifted his digits, and strands of corded azure string followed.

“Oh wow, thas’ neat. Heh, real neat. It’s like I never knew ya had these,” he commented sarcastically, winking. He laid down his cigar in favor of listening to Error’s unsteady breaths. His thumb grazed Error’s lower lip, and the other leaned into his touch. This wasn’t where he suspected he’d be tonight, but here he was, having impure thoughts about the monster beside him, and he wasn’t stopping this, whatever it was. The tip of a slick, blue tongue ghosted against his thumb, probably tasting the sharp metal tang of his ring, and Red watched with rapt attention. His breath stilled, watching, waiting.

Error closed their proximity, testing the waters. ‘Do it’ he coaxed silently. He’d already pushed things far enough, and even though he felt as though he was walking on dazzling beams of starlight at the moment, he recognized how fucked things were. He was playing with fire. He was on the edge of fucking things up, but he didn’t care. He was focused on the fact that he could practically taste the sweet smoke on Red’s breath. They were so close.

When Red’s mouth melded with his, soft and rough simultaneously, his magic tasted heady. Error responded eagerly, opening his mouth more, inviting him to deepen the kiss. Warmth culminated in his pelvis, responding to the tickling, light touches to his sides. Red’s tongue was in his mouth, tangling with his own, and he was in Red’s lap, breathing hard, scrabbling to keep himself upright while also attempting to catch up with what was happening. Red was practically tongue-fucking him, and Error was loving every moment of it. Red’s voice was so husky as he groaned. His hands felt as big as Error knew they were squeezing the ecto of his thighs.

The slam of a door was earth rattling, stilling Error in any further movements he might have taken as he was keenly aware of eyelights upon him. Red sighed, running a big hand down Error’s lower spine. Error shivered, zygomatic bones feeling like magma as he realized who it must be witnessing him all over Red.

“You fucking sleaze, Red, tell me you’re not worming your way into his pants, too,” Boss growled, his voice reflecting his displeasure at seeing his brother with their trusted employee straddling his lap. “Or did you get him that fucked up, that he thinks you’re a good lay? Nyeh heh! Pardon, Error. It’s not your fault my brother can’t keep his cock in his pants.”

Error’s face was as radiant yellow as a lightning bug in a mason jar as he nodded in acknowledgment. He was positive he was too drunk to form something coherent, see he just pretended to be alert (which probably went terribly, but hey, he tried). He cleared his throat, increasingly aware of the dampened, sticky crotch of his slacks against the pronounced bulge Red was sporting. Maybe they should have kept track of time, or teleported out of one of the main areas before Red’s younger sibling returned.

“Geesh, harsh, Boss. Don’t gotta rub it in. We can’t all be as good looking as ya.” He rolled his eyelight as the other grumbled, hanging up his leather jacket. “Gimme a sec while I take care of business.”

“Business, brother?” Boss snorted, kicking his shoes into their ordained place in the closet. “Really, Red? Is that what the kids are calling it now?”

“Yep, really, Boss. Hope the kids ain’t doin’ what I’m ‘bout ta do, bro. Heh, at least if they are I don’ wanna know about it.” He smiled smarmily, holding Error close as he teleported to a guest bed with a dark yet warmly decorated interior. Boss was good at interior decorating and Red was good at helping with giving it a lived-in feel–hence why they weren’t going back to his room to bang. It was a clusterfuck and he wasn’t about to give the freelancer a reason to back out now. Error looked thoroughly startled, digits threatening to meld with his bones. Red apologized, commenting, “Sorry, Strings. Shoulda warned ya. That was my bad.”

“It’s fine. Are we still…?”

“Ya still wanna?”

He did. He very much did. In fact he was opting for just handling it himself at this point if everything else was off the table. He uttered a ‘yes’ before reaching between them, finding Red’s erection and fondling him through his pants. Red enthusiastically responded, grinding into Error’s ministrations, slipping his own hand past the other’s waistband. He found the slick opening between plump lips asking for his attention, and he wasn’t shy about giving it. Slipping a couple digits inside, he relished in Error’s pleasured gasp.

“How ‘bout I split ya open, Strings? Ya hidin’ a cute pussy from me?”

“Please,” Error pleaded, considering if Red’s phalanges could brush against the posterior wall of his summoned cunt, his cock would surely test his limits. He was nearly drooling from how much he craved the sensation.

“Wha’ was dat, Strings? Speak up, I wanna hear ya,” Red purred, scissoring three digits inside of Error, the flutter of the vaginal walls tempting him.

Error squirmed in his grip, looking him in the face before demanding, “Fuck. Me.”

Red pulled the slacks from Error’s thighs before releasing his erection and sliding into the other’s supine frame with a groan. “Fuck, yes. That’s good,” he hummed, not wasting a moment before moving his hips, hands massaging Error’s thighs. “Ya like this thick cock, sweetheart? Ya like being speared on yer boss’ dick?”

“Yes, harder!” Error cried, prompting Red to use more force. Pulling him towards him, Error urged Red onto the king sized bed, feeling excited when the other loomed over him, flushed face and half-lidded eyes taking up his view. He hooked his calves over Red’s hips and connected their pelvises, prompting a hiss from the both of them. “Like this, Red, right here–I need it d-deeper,” Error breathed. Hands finding their way behind Red’s skull, he closed the space between them, tongues dancing with the other’s once more as he was fucked.

Glitches dancing over his bones, Error arched into demanding touches, antagonizing Red as he pinned his hips against his own, digging the clawed ends of his digits into the already scarred ecto of his back. Red liked that, exhibiting his masochistic tastes as he encouraged Error to ‘cut him up’. Error tried his best to please while also having his pelvis hammered into, but not hard enough–he could take harder, but Red probably doubted his limits. Error clenched his jaw, tilting his skull to the side, urging Red to bury his face into his neck. He must’ve been out of his mind to think that those daggers for teeth should be anywhere near his cervical vertebrae, but intoxicated and horny, it seemed like a perfect pairing.

“Bite me,” Error demanded more than asked, sucking on his lower lip where it had begun to leak magic from their last kiss. The orb of Red’s eyelight widened in interest, looking to Error then back to the offered clavicle and neck. Red’s teeth prickled his bones, the gentleness of the action jarring before he actually bit down. Error choked on air, insides tightening as he came undone. He saw white, the searing pain accompanied by Red still moving within him inducing a euphoric state as his voice cracked, a withered whine of praise as he arched against the other.

“Yes, hell yes, Strings, yes,” Red growled, a stifled groan following soon after as he finished inside of the other. Error was motionless aside from his ribcage expanding and contracting, his glowing blue soul fluctuating fast behind its ribbed confines. Red panted heavily, arms trembling as he leaned over Error, catching his breath. He watched the beads of sweat drip off of Error’s skull and onto the sheets, the faint glow of his eyelights behind closed lids, the slowed dribble of magic and marrow on his lip. Exhaustion was quickly replacing the lust that had been pumping through him. Red pulled out, laying down beside his unlikely bed partner, drifting into a dreamless slumber.

Cross sat up and felt around for his boxer shorts before pulling them on. He immediately grabbed his phone from the nightstand and opened his messages, only to be disappointed. Error was notorious for missing a call or two. He opened his bedroom door, certain he’d find his friend wrapped in a blanket burrito on the living room floor or moping over a cup of steaming coffee in his ‘Don’t touch me’ mug.

Nope.

Cross’ soul sank as he made his way down the hall to Error’s rarely used bedroom, throwing open the door to reveal a made bed and untouched slippers. Everything was as it had been weeks ago. ‘It’s already 8am. Where the hell is he?’ Clicking on his contact, he was about to call him again–that was until he was distracted. Keys in the lock. The door opened.

He was in the foyer in an instant, soul feeling tight as he faced the opening door. Behold, there was his friend, looking like he’d just been hit by a car and smelling like stale wine. Cross’ brows furrowed. “Where the hell were you? I’ve been calling, texting–”

“Sh-shhh, not so loud,” Error pleaded, wincing at the other’s tone. His cranium was pounding, and the back of his eye sockets felt as though they were splitting. He groaned as the door shut.

“Fine. Why didn’t you answer me?”

“Meant to. Got busy.”

“With what? Getting a mean hangover? Oh, geez you look rough,” Cross commented. He wrinkled his nasal ridge at the scent of sex lingering on his roommate. “You need a wash, dude.”

“Thanks. A wash, and coffee–p-pain meds, too.”

“You’re a fucking mess, you know that? Stars.” Cross clicked his tongue before filling the water of the coffee pot and turning it on. “Pain meds are in the restroom, numbskull. C’mon.”

Error hobbled after him, squinting into the meager amount of morning sneaking into the windows to stung his eyelights. Grumbling, he joined Cross in the bathroom, perching himself on the closed toilet lid to rub at his forehead.

“Here.” Cross held out two promising red and white tablets with a cup of water. Error thanked him and tossed the pills into his mouth, swallowing them and hoping they’d do their job quickly. He winced at the abrupt sound of water in the tub basin before accepting that he’d have to tough it out. Cross was a mother hen and there was no way he’d get out of the restroom without being fussed over. “Come on. Get in,” Cross demanded, and Error shed his clothes smelling of old sweat. He was thankful for his roommate not mentioning that he smelled like he’d been doused in pheromones. Error eased himself into the pleasantly hot water, sighing at the all encompassing warmth.

Cross returned with a steaming mug of coffee, with sugar and creamer already stirred in. Error was eternally grateful for his friend and associate. “Thanks. Preciate it.”

“I know.” Cross set the cup down on the edge of the tub and made himself comfortable on the toilet with his own mug of coffee. “So, are you gonna tell me what went down yesterday or are you going to keep me waiting?”

Error opened an eye, glaring at Cross, but there was no anger behind it. He sighed. “Visited with Mr. Joku, and he insisted I drink with him. Y-y-you know how he is–well, I fe-ell asleep. He insisted I stay for dinner.”

“And you did?” Cross added, already knowing the answer to his assumption.

“I did. After that I stopped over at the Fell’s. The only one around was Red and he boozed me up too. Except that blend was stronger and I finished the whole bottle–”

Cross was chuckling as Error’s face reflected his embarrassment. “Damn, they spoil you. Is this part of the job description or what?”

“Shut up, you know it’s not,” Error bit out, rubbing his eye sockets. “T-then things got a bit outta hand. Uh, let’s see, I fucked Red–”

“Error.” Cross scolded, worry flashing across his features.

“I know, I know what I said. Business and foolin’ around don’t go well together, but I wa-as fucked up, Cross. I wasn’t in the right m-mind!”

For a moment, there was silence, before Cross asked, “Are you okay? He didn’t hurt ya, did he?”

Error sighed, shaking his head. “No. I’m sore, but I expected that. I’m fine.”

Cross didn’t seem convinced. He sighed in irritation. “Be careful, damnit. You worried the hell out of me. What am I going to do without my noisy, crass, insomniac roommate?”

“I d-dunno. Die probably. You’re dysfunctional like that,” Error quipped, sticking out a couple tongues for effect. Cross poked a blue, glistening lingua, earning a squeal and an expression of disapproval from the other. “Try that again and I might bite off your finger.”

“Hehe. Oh! You’re gonna hate me.” Cross smirked.

“Why-y-y?” Error ventured, certain he wouldn’t like the answer.

“Totally forgot to mention that Blue is coming to cook tonight.”

“What?!” Error squawked, barely catching his mug as it was knocked by his flail. Cross looked far too smug for his own good. “You’re joking. Tell me you’re kidding around.”

“Noperoni! His food is just that good, buddy. And he’s a likable dork. You’re acting like he’s the bane of your existence, Ru.”

“He’s a stranger I met at the bitch’s coffee house,” Error snarled as Cross’ grin expanded.

“Not a stranger any longer, dude; he’s much less toxic than the self-important tycoons you work for. You don’t have to save face with him, he’s just another guy. Doesn’t that make you feel good?”

“Cross. You said no more setups. You said–”

“Pft, who said it was a date? His food is fucking divine, so consider it a favor to the both of us. Eating takeout after experiencing his cooking feels like cheating,” Cross stated, mouth watering as he contemplated digging into another of Blue’s culinary creations.

Error groaned. “Fu-uu-uuuck.”

“Come on, grumpy glitch, you know he’s not that bad. He’s been nothing but cordial to you. Also, he likes you. A lot.” Cross waggled his brows. Error looked back at him disbelievingly.

“What? No wa-ay.”

“Over text he said you were interesting. And good looking. He wants to get to know you better. Don’t know if he wanted me to spill that, but here we are.”

Error threw his forearm over his eyes and groaned. “Fine! Fucking fine. Mix some pain meds into my next cup of coffee, I’m go-o-onna need it.”

“You won’t regret it, chum.”

There was a knock at the door, and Error had no doubt as to who it was. Letting a mix between a sigh and a hiss between his clenched teeth, he unfastened the locks and opened it to see Blue with his arms loaded with grocery bags. Error offered to take some of the bags, but Blue insisted he was more than capable, his face flushed a pale blue.

“I heard you had a rough night. I brought some tea that always helps to settle my soul after a rough time,” Blue stated as he rifled through one of the bags. “Ah hah, here we go. It’s great, I swear by it.” He plopped the canister in Error’s hands and greeted Cross as he joined them in the kitchen area.

Error looked critically at Blue. He was dressed in a dark indigo sweater with a bright blue neck tie peeking out of the neckline. The chestnut colored beanie still on his skull was no surprise since the weather decided it was time to bring on the apocalyptic winter temperatures. Speaking of, Error checked the thermostat and cranked it up a few degrees. A few more dollars to pay was nothing if he could stave off the cold now. Glancing back, he caught the vibrant stars centered in Blue’s eyelights, and considered the last time he’d seen eyelights like those. That trait was practiced, which meant Blue must have honed his magic further than Error suspected. There was a lot Error didn’t know about him. He never thought the guy would be here in their apartment cooking them dinner and pouring them drinks again looking so damn thankful to be involved.

A pang of guilt shot through Error’s soul as he contemplated how much of an ass he’d been. He really hadn’t done anything but pay for his coffee and invite him over for a home cooked meal. Error pinched his nasal ridge and kicked himself mentally. He wasn’t good at this–the socializing and small talk thing. He was awkward at best. He could drink, and fuck an evening away with his boss, sure, but platonic relationships took time and effort. It was time he realistically had right now, at least until Nightmare needed him to be at the function to take care of ‘the problems’. He could do this.

He plopped himself on a barstool and took up a drink. Blue’s suave grin left him feeling strange, but not bad. He could stand to see it more often if he was honest with himself, but when was he really open about what he wanted?

“So you’ve finally come to join in the fun,” Cross commented, nudging Error’s ribs playfully. Error resisted smacking his pal and instead sipped at his drink which was pleasantly bubbly and crisp. He liked that it was white rather than red wine.

“So I ha-a-ave. Good choice, Blue.” He tipped the glass towards the other in a mock toast, since Blue was preoccupied dicing veggies and herbs.

“Mweh heh, glad you like it. My boss recommended I try it. It was the last he had in stock and the guy’s just really generous.”

“Mind telling what the meal is going to be?” Cross asked eagerly, eyelights glued to the ingredients. Blue was so organized, dividing the various spices and herbs into small bowls, and talking them through his recipe. It was interesting to watch him work while enjoying a drink. Error listened to Blue’s sonorous voice rise and fall with each passing conversation. Soon he was pouring himself another drink, feeling a warm buzz inside his cranium and a buoyant sensation in his soul. The scent of simmering sauce filled his olfactory cavities and Error hummed in delight. “Don’t pass out, lightweight. That’s only your first glass, isn’t it?”

“Quiet, you,” Error snapped, and Blue chuckled.

“Are you fellas peckish?”

“Is that even a question?” Cross complained, leaning back in his chair. “I’m perishing.”

“You eat well, bonehead,” Error grumbled.

“Tch. Unlike you. Maybe you wouldn’t drown on your first drink if you ate regularly,” Cross replied, working on his second or third drink, he couldn’t recall. Error rolled his eyelights.

“Asshole! I eat j-just fine.”

“Drinking eight cups of coffee isn’t eating,” Cross said. “You depend on coffee and chocolate to get by and if you weren’t already a skeleton I’m sure it would be more noticeable, if not completely horrific.”

“Alright, mom. You worry too much,” Error chided, returning his attention back to Blue’s necktie and the cervical vertebrae exposed above it. They were sturdy and pearly in hue, and for a moment, Error caught himself wanting to reach out and touch them. He was startled by his train of thought, wondering if he should feel ashamed. When Blue looked up, he looked away quickly, feeling stupid as a flush covered his face.

“I know a lot of easy recipes,” Blue stated, moving to place a tray filled with a colorful array into the oven. “I could text some to you if you’d like, Eero. Though I don’t have your number, do I?”

Cross snorted at the fake name, kicking Error under the counter. Error shot him a glare, aiming a quick jab before clearing his throat. He had to agree the pseudonym did sound silly, said in his own home and by the guy cooking dinner for him. “Uh, Blue? You can c-call me Error.”

“Huh? Did I mess up? It was Eero, right? Or did I dream that?” Blue asked, continuing to prep food. His face was so expressive and open, it gave Error chills. Or the hangover was lingering and he was just exacerbating it now by adding more alcohol to his system.

“I gave you a fake name...for safety reasons,” Error muttered, loathing the fact that this idiot could make him feel uncertain. “It’s nothin’ pe-ersonal–”

“It’s only because he’s a lonely fuck who’s crippled socially. There we go, I’ve aired your dirty laundry, bro. It’s all out in the open.” Cross smirked, ready to get hit in the face and not regretting stating facts one bit. Error felt his skull burn with emotions heightened by the drink in his hands, and Blue tutted.

“I don’t believe that. Safety is extremely important, especially when humans and monsters are dropping like flies. I don’t blame you, Error,” Blue supplied. “To be honest I’m not as social as used to be. Work has been, well...it’s been something alright.”

“I love you, dude,” Cross chuckled and Error flipped him off. Blue snorted, and took a break to indulge in his drink.

“So you guys have known each other a while, yeah?”

“Too long,” Error grumbled. “He’s a pain in my ass, but he’s also my best friend. I can’t remember how long it’s been.”

“We met in high school, went to college together, both dropped out–” Cross rambled, putting a lot of faith in his bar stool as he leaned back.

“Yep, just make known our educational failures. Tha-thank you, Cross.” Error smacked a hand to his forehead.

“Yer welcome, buddy.”

“You guys are great,” Blue said, removing his apron. “Want to take a seat? It’ll be just a few.”

They chatted for a while, and when dinner was done, they enjoyed the delicious spoils of Blue’s hospitality. He said it was an improvised lasagna dish, rearranged so that savory and cheesy elements were paired with chorizo and slightly tangy sauce. It had Error floored as he enjoyed his plate of food, wondering how Blue could just slap items together and be certain they would taste good. He had to admit talent when he witnessed it.

“It’s really good,” he admitted, and Blue absolutely beamed. The sound of Cross’ text tone pulled him away from the immersion of Blue’s piercing eyelights.

“Oh. I might pop out for a few. Are you guys alright?” He asked, clearly eager to be somewhere. Error nodded and Blue responded with ‘of course’. He took his plate to the sink, and thanked Blue for the wonderful dinner before grabbing his jacket and heading down the elevator. It had been a while since he texted him and Cross was over the moon.

~

Cross entered the cafe and bar duo, rubbing his hands together. He could’ve teleported, but being drunk, he didn’t want to risk misjudging his end location and breaking something (namely himself). Looking around, he scanned the small crowd, happening upon the golden yellow eyelights he recalled from their last encounter. He made his way over, smiling bashfully. For all he accused Error of, he too was sorely out of practice in the socializing department.

“Cross,” Dream greeted. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“It has,” he replied, a small waver in his voice. He didn’t recall being this nervous the first time they met. “Sorry for the late reply, a friend came by.”

“Don’t tell me I interrupted. Cross, we could have rescheduled.”

“No, he’s more of a friend of my roommate. Well, crush, really. Mind you he wouldn’t admit that if his life depended on it. I’m just the matchmaker watching the pieces fall into place.” Cross winked.

“Oh? And how much experience do you have in match-making?” Dream asked, resting his chin on his palm. Cross snorted.

“Absolutely none. I have a hunch, though, so I want to see how it turns out. My roomie, he doesn’t take care of himself properly; doesn’t sleep or eat much at all–we’ve been friends as long as I can remember, and I love the guy, but he needs more than just me, ya know?”

Dream nodded. “I know the type. Personally. Sometimes it’s hard to get through to them.”

“He works long hours on and off, and I know it drains him. He’s so motivated, but I have no clue how he does it while running on fumes. He’s gonna crash and burn one of these days,” Cross stated, sighing despondently. “Sorry for laying that all on ya, it’s just been on my mind for a while.”

“No need to apologize. I asked to see you, didn’t I? I want to hear you talk about you, your day, your week and so on. Please don’t censor yourself for my sake.”

“Alright. What about you? How have things been recently?”

“Well, I’ve been irritated with the progress of my work. I have some projects in development that depend on other people to complete and so far, everything has been a complete clusterfuck,” Dream commented, stirring his Long Island Iced Tea. “Otherwise, I’ve had no time to decompress, so seeing you is nice. I’m glad you could meet me here.”

“I’m sorry things aren’t progressing smoothly. Group projects can drive you crazy. I, uh, I’m really glad I got your text. Really glad.” Cross blushed. “Feels good seeing you too, Dream.”

“Heh, you know, it might be a little sudden, but...would you want to head back to my place? I’ve got more than this place has to offer. I can get you a drink before heading out to sweeten the deal–”

“Dream. I don’t need a drink. Yes. Let’s go,” Cross said, a lilac blush dusting his cheeks. “I’d rather be able to hear you than the music they’re playing.”

The two departed, arm in arm as they made their way back to Dream’s apartment. Dream smiled, satisfied that his idea to text Cross ended up resulting in their meeting once again. Work had sucked the life out of him, and while he was aware he’d been negligent of keeping up with their conversations, he was certain he could make it up to the other. “Here we are. Home sweet home,” Dream said as he opened the door, turning on the lights as they entered. Cross looked up, noting the high ceilings and clean feel of the townhouse.

“Nice place you’ve got here, Dreamy.”

“Eh, it’s a place. You want to grab some spiked hot cider and cozy up?” His eye sockets squinted when he smiled, and stars, Cross was absolutely smitten.

“You read my mind,” Cross responded, just a little breathless. So they indulged in hot cider, skipping from topic to another while bundled in a pile of blankets. When they had their fill, Dream pulled Cross towards the master bedroom, lust beginning to manifest itself as liquid gold in his pelvic inlet. He noticed Cross’ eyes drift downward, and it wasn’t missed by him. Cross had the sweetest lilac flush across his cheeks and his heterochromatic eyelights glowed, fuzzy around the edges from the effects of alcohol. Cute.

“Is it wrong that all I wanted was to get you back here?” Dream hummed, voice deepening with the growing want spreading throughout his ribcage. Cross encouraged Dream’s heavy petting, gladly opening his mouth when the other pulled his skull closer, summoned tongue curling around his own. Cross felt too hot, and he wiggled his sweater off, shimmying closer to his shorter counterpart while doing so. Dream smiled into the kiss, tongue running over the back of Cross’ incisors. They broke the kiss, and Cross’ breath was unsteady, excitement evident in his searing blush.

“I wanted the same. Fuck, Dream. Y-you’re good at that.” Throat sand-papery, he swallowed roughly, his nerves catching up with him as he glanced down at the tented material at Dream’s crotch. He was certain he was going to top, he’d always topped in the past; everyone just submitted to Cross, that was how it had gone. No one ever asked, just leaned back and let him at it, but Dream, the way he was looking at him, his demeanor...

Dream wanted to fuck him. The realization made Cross dizzy with both apprehension and arousal. “Are you okay? You spaced out there, Cross.” Dream’s hand was cupping his jaw, and he felt safe, albeit anxious. Cross nodded.

“Yeah. Yeah. I’m fine.” He smiled, although it was half-hearted. Dream wasn’t convinced.

“You’re a really bad liar,” he ran a digit over Cross’ lower lip as he sat next to him on his bed. “What’s eating you?”

“Heheh, it’s nothin’ much. I, uh, y-you-” Cross swallowed, feeling tongue tied. He tried again. “Are we taking this to the bed?”

“Do you want to?” Dream asked, his golden eyes imploring. “Cross. We don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

“Okay. Well, while we’re here, I’ll let you know something: I don’t bottom,” Dream stated, expression serious. “If that’s a problem, well, we don’t have to go further. Also, I need your explicit consent. I’m not interested in feeling things out.”

Okay, well that answered that. Now then. “I’ve never summoned a cunt,” Cross blurted, face exploding in a fierce blush. He looked down, not sure he wanted to see Dream’s face. Cross felt out of his element and it didn’t feel pleasant. Was this how Error felt in large groups? This stinging shame?

“Alright. Do you want to? If you do, I can lead you through it.”

Cross looked up, shocked and...relieved? Dream’s expression was empathetic and damnably handsome. Cross assumed that since he was taller, broader, that he’d be expected to lead, and yet here he was falling victim to Dream’s commandeering attitude. He liked it. A lot.

“I can take care of you,” Dream insisted. “Come up here, loosen up. That’s it, claim some pillows, I’ve got way too many.” Dream chuckled, petting Cross’ sternum. “Comfortable?” The other nodded. “Good. Now, I’m going to help you form, but I can only do half of the work. Keep things as neutral as possible in your pelvic cradle. I’ll tell you when to shape things up.”

“Okay.”

“Can I touch you?” Dream asked, hand hovering just over the hem of his slacks. Cross nodded, watching the golden-accented joints disappear beneath the waistband of his pants. He gasped as Dream’s digits met his pelvic inlet, dipping into the accumulation of pooling magic. Cross’ soul throbbed more quickly, his joints glowing as heat rushed to his pelvis. “Focus on my digits. Can you feel the depth of my fingers, the movement? Here,” Dream’s thumb brushed the outside of the fluctuating magic, pressing in circular motions, “Is going to be sensitive. Your innate code knows this, you can do it. Can you try to form around my digits, Cross?”

“I think so,” he grunted, using no small amount of concentration to form something which felt absolutely foreign. Scrunching his brows together, he lifted his hips, pushing his slacks down to see what his own cunt could possibly look like. There was pressure as Dream withdrew his digits, which in retrospect, were only barely penetrating him. It was a lilac mound between his thighs, small in comparison to the erection he usually donned. It felt different too; it was a sensation that radiated inward, like there was a deep ache inside his pelvis. He glanced over at Dream, as if asking if this was correct.

“My, my, look at that. You did it.” Dream’s lips pressed against his once more, drawing moans from him as a single digit pressed inside his new hole. It stole his breath away. “It’s so pretty, Cross.”

“D-dream-”

“You like that?” Dream purred against his skull, the tip of another phalange teasing the outside of his pussy until it pressed in alongside the first. Cross nodded frantically, his grip on Dream’s shoulders tightening as his digits curled inside of his virgin cunt.

“H-how could I not? Fuckin’ tease,” Cross hissed, nestling his head against Dream’s clavicle and neck. He shivered as the other pressed a kiss to the side of his skull.

“Nah, I’m not a tease, just careful. You’ll be thankful for it later,” Dream promised, his cluster of digits doing things to Cross that he wished he’d known before. It was so intense, the building sensation, sharp and wet, coating the ecto of his thighs, and undoubtedly dripping onto Dream’s sheets. Cross trembled, spreading his legs to make room for Dream’s hips between them.

“You don’t think I’m ready? I feel ready, Dream,” Cross pressed, reaching between the other’s legs to tug at the turgid erection. Dream was far too clothed. “I think you should fuck me,” Cross commented, squeezing his clothed cock. Dream made a pleasured groan, and shoved his pants down and off of his hips. His dick jutted out, precum beading at the tip as he hungrily eyed Cross.

“You think so?” He asked huskily, stroking himself. Cross took in what Dream was working with and felt trepidation permeate his soul. Being on the receiving end of someone well hung was a little terrifying and his new hole clenched in sympathy as Dream’s digits were removed. “If you’re eager, I’m game, Crossy.”

Swallowing, Cross blushed, covering his face and uttering, “Be gentle. Please.”

His hands were pulled away, and he was kissed. Pulling away, Dream stated, “Of course. At your pace, alright? Look at me.”

Cross did. He watched Dream’s handsome face as the head of his cock bumped against his core, collecting moisture as he moved it across his clit and down again. The action was repeated before the erection was lined up once more, Dream’s eyelights glowing, half-lidded, and entrancing. Then there was pressure, blooming pleasure, and Cross threw his head back, groaning as he was fully penetrated. “I’ve got you,” Dream soothed, moving gently, languidly above his partner, drinking in his awed expression. He decided he’d like to keep this one, if he could. If he didn’t fuck this up. ‘Just don’t repeat the past’ his mind supplied, as he rolled his hips against Cross’, drawing the most beautiful sounds from him. He couldn’t hurt Cross if he wanted to–his psyche wouldn’t let him. Cross was perfect and he didn’t even have to try. Dream swore to himself he’d do better this time; he wouldn't let himself treat his relationship like he managed his job. He’d be better. For Cross.

Chapter Text

Error was stuffed full of Blue’s flavor packed meal and the wine in his system, yet he still helped him collect the dishes from dinner and clear the countertops. Squinting at the windows, he caught sight of the snowfall which must’ve started while they’d been idly chatting while finishing dinner. He huffed, wondering how much colder it probably was.

“You might want to stick around for a while. It looks like the snow is actually sticking out there. It’s pro-obably icy, too,” Error stated, wiping down the table. From the kitchen, Blue raised his brows.

“Are you sure? I’m more than capable of making it home safely,” he reassured, tucking the last of the dishes into the dishwasher. “I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

“Nonsense. Stay.”

“Okay.” Blue went to the window to watch the snowfall, a chill creeping up his spine at the thought of the temperature outside of the apartment. In the background, he heard the television turn on, intense background music of a show filling the small space.

“Ha-a-ave you ever seen Under Novella?” Error asked, wrapped in a blanket on the couch. Blue shook his head no, approaching the couch to settle down next to his host.

“Nope. What’s it about?”

A smile crept up on Error unawares, and he filled Blue in on the characters, the general premise, and the love interests thus far. Blue attempted to focus on the information (he could tell Error was a megafan of the series) yet his attention was drawn to Error’s inebriated glow, the motions of his hands underneath the blanket, his laugh, glitchy and Stars help him, adorable–

“So, uh, d-do you want to watch it? Or is it not your kind of show?” Error asked, rubbing the back of his cervical vertebrae. Blue was quick to reassure him.

“Oh, definitely my kind of show! I’d really like to watch it–I’ll probably still have questions, that was a lot of background information.”

“Of course.” Error took a blanket off of the back of the couch and handed it to Blue, trying to hide that he was practically jittering at the notion that someone else was interested in his soap opera. “Get co-ozy, we’ll be here for a while.”

Blue was there for a while. Episode after episode, snickering about the cheesiness of some of the scenes, splitting chocolate with Error, whose face seemed to glow with his blush, it was wonderful. All of it. The pit in Blue’s soul seemed to fill up with all of the interaction he’d been missing, yet avoiding intentionally, aside from his work assignments. This was nice.

He woke up from a sleep he was shocked to have fallen into by a comfortable pressure on his side. Glancing over, he took in the sight of Error, deep in sleep, practically molded to the side of his blanket clad bones. Blue recalled Cross letting him in on the fact that Error was an insomniac, and that he’d been barely sleeping at all lately. Concern that he’d stayed too long was overshadowed by the fact that his host was actually sleeping, deeply enough that small snores could be heard if he listened closely enough. As if the world was adamant on thwarting him, Blue’s phone buzzed loudly by his skull. Freezing up, Blue looked over at Error, whose face had scrunched up like he had tasted something sour. Error curled more tightly against himself, blanketed hands tightening their grip on Blue before he went still once more, exhaling a hefty sigh.

Blue immediately silenced his phone, turning off all notifications before searching out who could be texting him at 3am. Ah, of course. His brother was probably drunk and missing the fact Blue wasn’t there to pick up the pieces of his alcohol induced fuckups. Begrudgingly, Blue opened the messages.

why dont yuo tlk to me nymore blue? ive tried evrthing what do i need to do to reach you?

you know why. Blue typed, not willing to go in depth when his problematic sibling knew full well why their relationship was failing. Sometimes talking to Stretch made him wish he’d recorded what had been said after their arguments.

Stretch replied. im trying to fix things. how can i if you wont give me a chance bro?

Blue sighed, pinching his nasal ridge. go to sleep. text me when it’s not the ass crack of dawn. thanks.

Blue slotted his phone in with his sweater on the floor and made himself comfortable while trying not to shift Error. Letting his mind wander, he fell into an easy sleep.

Error was hard pressed to admit he snuggled with Blue all night a few days ago. Blue didn’t have a problem with it, in fact he shrugged it off easily when Error apologized privately for the breech of his personal space. His soul tightened when a rich blue tinted the other’s face, and he felt as though his magic might fail entirely. When Blue changed the subject, commenting on how much he enjoyed watching the first few Under Novella episodes and mentioned he’d like to do it again, Error’s confidence soared. They set the date for Saturday.

And now, here Error was with this all on his mind, dull hoodie and slacks emphasizing his average qualities as he toted the black backpack on his back. Little did passersby know that inside that pack with enough ammunition to take out the entire block, a carefully crafted tear gas gifted to him by Red straight from the Fell Brothers’ laboratory, and his two favorite guns. None of the folks passing by him mattered though; no one paid him to put a bullet in the skull of a Karen from Nowhereville, USA. Nightmare had been clear about the two targets at a convention downtown. They’d been a pain in his ass for too long, and it was hurting his image and his business. It wasn’t personal for Error, not like it was for Nightmare. Error didn’t think deeply about it afterwards like he used to. He was good with his aim, regardless of his awful vision in one eyelight, and that got him into a comfortable position with the important individuals of the city who needed jobs done. Confidential and well-paying, it was everything he could have asked for. He wasn’t looking to leave (not yet anyhow–he’d have to plan for that occasion).

He didn’t know if he could abandon this position at this point.

The empty offices surrounding the convention taking place stories below were perfect for this particular job. He set up shop, taking precautionary measures in case others were to follow (he highly doubted anyone would; there would be no point traipsing through dusty, abandoned rooms). Finding the men took time, but tracking them was not a problem. Eying them through crosshairs, Error steadied himself, before preparing to pull the trigger. Barely a sound, and the man dropped. Before the chaos could ensue, he focused on the other target, landing a bullet in his temple. People scattered, some finding cover while others tried to help the men, who were dead before they hit the ground.

Safety on and tools put away, Error was gone before the police arrived. No blood, nothing staining his clothing, there was nothing to trace him to the crime. He texted a code phrase to Nightmare once he entered the sanctity of his apartment. Cross stood up from the couch upon his entrance.

“How’d it go?”

Error shrugged off his bag, stowing it in the chest with the inconspicuous lock. “It was fine. It was a big event s-so it was inconvenient at most. Besides that, nothing to mention.”

“Good to hear. Coffee?” Cross asked, already knowing the answer. Error nodded, heading towards the restroom. He felt the dust and grime from the neglected rooms clinging to his person. Cross broke out the coffee bean grinder, contemplating his experience with Dream.

“So, about your roommate and his potential match…”

“What about them?” Cross asked, skull tucked into Dream’s clavicle. He focused on the soothing sound of Dream’s soul, the soft golden glow illuminating the space between them.

“Well, what are their names? I feel left out of the group. Don’t know if you realized, but I don’t exactly get out of work to hang out too often,” Dream commented, smiling at Cross’ content expression.

“Error is my roommate. He’s a quirky guy, skeptical, but calculating. He’s a creative thinker and just overall a great guy. Blue’s his crush. Error won’t admit to it, but he’s flustered as hell around the guy. Blue is outgoing and a fantastic cook; he’s got this presence to him and he just feels...radiant.”

Dream remained silent a moment before stating, “I know a Blue. We’re friends, in fact. Is he a skeleton monster?”

“Yeah, he is. What a coincidence. You should come hang out sometime. You can meet Error and it could be a double date–” Cross hesitated, face heating up as he realized how open he had been about his affection, “Eh hem, if you wanted, that is.”

“I’d like that,” Dream purred, pressing a kiss against Cross’ temple. “Of course I want to.”

The coffeemaker beeped, and Cross remembered he wasn’t wrapped up against Dream, but standing in his kitchen in his ratty sleep pants and tank top. He longed to be in his presence again, breathing in his scent and being held like he was. Nobody treated him like Dream did. Dream treated him like he could be hurt, like he was something special, and maybe Cross was looking too far into it, but he craved it. He desired it so much it hurt. ‘Good boy’ Dream had called him. He’d do nearly anything to hear those words said in that husky tone once more.

He poured their coffees and after delivering Error’s cup, retreated to his bedroom to ponder further about the especially vivid details of that night with his new lover.

Saturday rolled around, and Error was running on three days of no sleep. He had tried everything, but nothing worked. Hot baths, the tea Blue had bought for him, rolling himself into a blanket burrito and taking sleeping pills that were meant to knock him out. He was left sorely disappointed, and now he was jittery and probably looked rough. Nevertheless, he didn’t want to turn Blue away. His soul felt tight, and strange, and when he recalled the fact that he’d been flush against Blue in his sleep had him experiencing something akin to anxiety.

He cleaned up as best he could, actually trying with his outfit. Block striped tee, some nice slate gray joggers he’d gotten as a gift from Nightmare last year, and a charcoal, cable-knit cardigan sweater. He pulled on black chukka boots and admired himself in the mirror. At least now he didn’t look so haggard. Making his way into the restroom, he retrieved his tooth brush and refreshed his mouth, brightening his yellow teeth. Slathering foamy soap onto his face, he scrubbed until satisfied, then rinsed. He could act rested and sane. He could do it.

“Error,” Blue greeted him, hesitating in his approach to hug him before the other completed the action, face searing with embarrassment. “Ready to catch me up on what we’re about to watch? Oh, by the way I brought snacks. I remembered you like chocolate–”

“You didn’t ha-a-ave to bring anything. We’ve got food here, but uh...what kind of chocolate is it?” Error ventured, mouth watering at the idea of the rich sweet on his tongues.

“Mweheh, you changed your mind pretty quickly. It’s a milk chocolate with-” Blue retrieved a bar from the bag on his arm and continued, “Cocoa nibs! That’s what I was looking for.” He smiled and Error was gripped by the feeling he kind of dreaded and sort of liked(?). It rattled him every instance it occurred. “You look great by the way. I should take fashion advice from you, Error.”

“Pft, nah. Quit pulling my f-femur,” Error rolled his eyes, accepting the chocolate from Blue to look at him himself. Blue set the bags down, clicking his tongue.

“I’m not! Believe me, I’m an honest guy. Quit being so hard on yourself,” Blue scolded, setting out the abundance of snacks and the very same wine Error guzzled down last time.

“Uh, thanks. This chocolate looks really good and that wine is too go-good. It’s not my fault if my legs aren’t working in an hour...heh.”

Blue chuckled, opening caramel crinkles and cheesy popcorn and pouring them into a bowl. Snagging wine glasses, he looked like the answer to a prayer Error had forgotten. Years ago he’d desired someone to see that he was worth their time, that he wasn’t an evil piece of shit with failed dreams, an unsavory past or unsavory present. It stirred a portion of his soul and it was disconcerting, yet exciting. He couldn’t be a complete prick to Blue with that handsome face and charismatic personality. He was the opposite of Error, and it confused him to envision Blue actually wanting to hang out with him.

“Of course. Let’s get to it!”

Sure enough, Error practically inhaled the wine from his glass, and he’d passed the point of tipsy long ago. Blue had indulged, too, and they were both partially engrossed in the TV series, partly slap-happy. It felt so good to let go, Error recognized, as he acknowledged the weightlessness within his cranium. When he looked at Blue, he saw kindness, loyalty, and brilliance. 'What if he knew what you did for a living? How would his face change knowing that you kill for money?' And down another drink went, numbing those inconvenient thoughts that wouldn’t change a thing. He was deep in shit, but Blue didn’t have to know.

They were close, and at some point they must have begun sharing Error’s blanket. Error was slapped with déjà vu, but he couldn’t place why. Night had fallen, and the chill had set in. The heat in the apartment was temperamental, and they received what heat it coughed out, which was paltry. Liquid courage still giving him a helping hand, Error snuggled up to Blue. Blue welcomed it, wrapping an arm around his waist, and if that wasn’t hot Error didn’t know what was.

“Are you cold?” Blue asked, his voice all the more alluring considering there wasn’t a centimeter between them. When Error nodded, he was pulled into Blue’s embrace, leaning against his sternum. He was left absolutely speechless. ‘Was this happening?’ “Is this pushing it?” He ventured, really liking where this was going but not wanting to take advantage of the situation.

“Shhh-hhhh,” Error giggled, conveniently turning around to straddle Blue. “This is perfect.”

“Error. You’re really wasted,” Blue objected, taking in the other’s heavily lidded eyelights and unsteady movements.

“So are you,” Error replied. “Is this t-too much for you?”

“Well, no, but in all seriousness, I don’t want you to regret this,” Blue said.

Error pleaded unlike Blue had ever heard. “Please? I won’t regret it, Blue.”

What started as uncoordinated turned into a passionate tangle of tongues, slick and charged with the scent of wine and pheromones. Moaning, Error grinded down against Blue’s lap, enticing the other into kissing him more deeply, exploring his ribs with trembling hands. The thought occurred to Error that privacy mattered; they were out in the open on the couch, where Cross could arrive back any time and see them. Error broke the kiss. “Cross will probably be home soon.”

“Yeah, um, are you alright?” Blue asked, concern flashing across his features. Pointing the way to his room (not that it was very far), Error was ecstatic. He locked his door once inside, eager to resume the activities from the living room. Overwhelmed by uncertainty laced with desire, Error was uncertain how to approach this. Was this wrong to express how badly he wanted to press his whole being against Blue? What if he’d already fucked it up, maybe Blue was looking for a way out–he could be disgusted by him and unwilling to hurt his feelings…

“Am I making you fe-eel trapped?” Error asked, contemplating which direction this was about to go. Blue was the only one besides Cross who put up with him. He enjoyed Blue’s company, as much as he loathed to admit it. He didn’t want to be lonely. Not again.

“No. Not at all,” Blue admitted, sitting on Error’s bed. He relieved himself of his sweatshirt, opening himself up for Error to join him. Error did, sliding into his lap languidly, letting his sweater cascade to the ground as well. “To be honest I’m, eh hem, worked up. Really worked up.”

“So you’re sa-a-aying I turn you on, Blue?” Error smirked, pressing his sternum against the other’s and shifting his hips provocatively. “I have something to tell you.”

“What?”

“You turn me o-on too,” Error whispered, his soul stirring like it might jitter its way out of his rib cage. Blue’s breath against his neck had him shivering; he was hyper aware of the sensation of teeth barely there, nipping at his cervical vertebrae before a kiss was there to replace the burn. He tilted his skull, exposing his neck and clavicle, gasping out as Blue took the invitation, latching onto his vertebrae like he was starving. Error’s bones definitely bruised under the pressure of the other’s canines.

“Yeah-ahhh, yes,” he hissed, clinging to Blue as if grabbing him harder would help him process the overwhelmingly good ache. Blue grinned against his neck.

Error’s bones were soft and rough in all of the right places, and if Blue suspected correctly, he had formed his ecto in the cradle of his pelvis. Touching Error was like nothing he’d felt before; no one else elicited this kind of excitement in him. Gripping the colorful skeleton’s spine, he stroked, mouth watering at the vocalizations Error made when he touched him. When Error said his name in that tone of voice, it tempted him to find more especially sensitive parts of his anatomy.

“You like that don’t you? We could just do this for the rest of the night, my mouth on you, rubbing your spine. Hmm, how does that sound, Error?”

“Just that? N-nothing more than that?” Error asked, disappointment coloring his tone. Blue chuckled.

“I thought you were enjoying yourself. What more could you want, greedy boy?”

“You know very-very well what I want,” Error insisted. Blue lifted a brow, watching the other squirm under his gaze.

“Do I?”

Error pouted. “For the love of–” Error whined, burying his face in his hands, suddenly realizing just how horny he was. His cheeks burned hotter than flames. “Could we–cou-uld you–”

Blue supplied, pressing a kiss against Error’s mouth, swallowing any embarrassment he was feeling by coaxing his multiple tongues to play with his own. Furrowing his brow, Error submitted to the attention, allowing himself to become limp in Blue’s hold. His ecto filled out up to his ribcage, creating a softer exterior to hold and squeeze. He could pretend this would end well. Blue could believe he was a social outcast with potential, a wallflower with a dismal attitude but a good soul. Maybe Error could keep up the ruse.

“Touch me, Blue,” Error pleaded, loosening the tie on his pants. “I want your fingers buried insi-i-ide of me,” he stated, the slick between his thighs amplifying his desire. It would be so easy for Blue to slide inside him, he was ready, he could take the stretch. “Or you could use your cock,” he suggested, smirking up at the other.

“Don’t want to hurt you,” Blue stated, following Error as he laid down, shedding his slacks in favor of exposing his vivid blue ecto. Blue’s attention narrowed in on the puffy pussy nestled between his pretty thighs. Error tugged him forward, wrapping his legs around the other’s waist, encouraging and urging him to hilt himself inside his formed cunt.

“You won’t. What do I have to say to convince you?” Error asked, hands exploring the divots and glowing segments between vertebrae, biting his lower lip in anticipation. “I want you, Blue. Fuck me.”

Blue chuckled. “Alright, I hear you. Relax,” Blue urged. He was throbbing, cock stiff as a board as he kicked off his trousers. It felt like a dream he’d had many times since having Error and Cross over for dinner, and after Error had fallen asleep on him after he stayed on that snowy evening. The way Error watched him, how he blushed when he caught him staring. He could feel the magnetism now as Error’s digits shakily undid the rest of his shirt.

Lining his dick up, running the tip through slick, he was keenly aware of Error whimpering, breathily encouraging him, spine straining in anticipation. His alcohol-addled mind supplied imagery of the coffee shop they met in, the first time he saw Error’s stunning eyes beneath his hood, his adorably dismal expression. Blue wasn’t sure when his crush had taken on such an intense edge, but it had, and here he was watching the other’s face as it morphed into a blissed out expression.

When Blue’s phone rang, he pointedly ignored it, holding Error close and hilting himself to grind into him, prodding the end of his passage. Error’s voice split as he screamed, burying his face into Blue’s clavicle and praising his name, followed by an exclamation of ‘more’. Like putty in his hands, Error let Blue angle his hips, and all the while he took it and begged for more.

Error’s cries were infinitely better outside of Blue’s dreams.

~

Cross returned late with Dream in tow. They quietly hung up their outerwear, whispering and keeping their laughter quiet. Glancing around, Cross deduced that either Error had gone on a snack binge, or someone was over. His soul bloomed with excitement when he recognized Blue’s signature scarf on the couch next to a drained bottle of wine. He smiled at Dream, who quirked a brow.

“I think they hit it off well. Heh, really well. Error never sleeps in his room,” Cross explained. Realization dawned on Dream as he collected that Blue had been hanging out with Cross’ roommate. He could tell they’d taken things further considering he detected faint moans coming from the hallway. He hoped Blue had at least seen his text from earlier on in the evening or tomorrow morning might be more awkward than he’d intended.

“You were right, then,” Dream stated, smirking. “Congratulations.”

“Yes,” Cross fist pumped, as though he’d just won something besides his roommate fucking in the other room. “I knew it. Heh, I’ll rub it in Error’s face later. Wanna retire to my room?”

“Pft. You’re a dork. Sure, that sounds nice.” Dream yawned, heading towards the promise of a comfortable mattress. Cross quietly approached Error's closed door, leaning in close. And there was Error’s voice, breathy, strained, and so different to what he was used to hearing that he blushed a bright plum.

“What are you doing?!” Dream hissed, pulling him by the nape of his sweater into his own bedroom and pushing the door shut. “Tch.”

“I, uh, didn’t really believe it?” Cross defended weakly, still glowing with embarrassment.

Dream swiftly captured Cross’ lower lip between his teeth. “You’re a really bad liar. Are you a voyeur, Crossy? How’d you feel listening in on your roommate fucking someone?” Dream guided Cross’ hand down to the straining crotch of his pants, his own hand caressing the crux of Cross’ thighs. “How about you give me a little snack before bed, huh? I’ve been craving you all dinner.” Cross’ blush darkened, and he nodded eagerly.

“Y-yeah,” he whispered, as though the others would hear them over their passionate activities. “Mm, Dream, oh fuck–” Cross’ voice was stolen from him as Dream’s heavy petting turned to playing with his swollen clit. “K-keep doing that, hh-hyeah.”

“You’re such a good boy,” Dream purred, lightly pinching the lilac nub between his thumb and forefinger. The way Cross’ legs shook was precious. “My good boy. I’m going to suck and lick your pretty cunt until you’re trembling. Then I’m going to fuck you until you can’t feel your legs.”

“Stars damn, yes. Please, Dreamy, please.”

Moving onto the bed, Dream removed Cross’ pants entirely, leaning down between his legs so he was eye level with his lilac core. “You remember your safeword, don’t you?” Dream asked, drawing a phalange through the moisture gathering in the slit.. Cross eagerly nodded, eyelights vibrant with lust. Dream smiled wickedly. “I want to hear you, darling. Sing for me, sweetheart.”

~

Blue was roused by movement against his sternum, and a soft sigh next to him. His eyes snapped open, taking in the blurry image of a bedroom that wasn’t his own. Blue string lights hung from the corners of the ceiling, criss-crossing and extending across the space. It reminded Blue of an imitation of an unpracticed mandala design. Glancing over, his breath caught at Error’s serene expression. He’d spent the night with Error. In his bed. Holy Stars.

The peace never lasted long it seemed, as Blue’s phone reminded him of his missed calls and texts, rattling against the wood floor in his discarded pants. Slipping out of Error’s loose hold on him, he tiptoed over to the menace of technology he owned and unlocked the screen. A call and a text message from his brother he ignored, but three texts and two calls from Dream caught his attention. Shit. Shitshitshit. He clicked on the conversation.

I’ve been seeing Cross. he made it clear he knows you.

I came home with him. here’s what I’d like you to do:

you know me. we’re casual friends. this is convenient for case work.

btw I know some people are into breeding kinks, but damn. what were you doing to him last night? his wails rattled the apartment walls.

Blue frowned. He glanced at the closed door contemplating his manager walking in and hearing Error’s pleasured pleas. His cervical vertebrae prickled in irritation. Looking over, he took in the sight of the other’s curled form, focusing on the uncovered cherry red of his pelvis and tailbone, and the occasional flit of glitches over his frame. He released a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

Error was internally panicking. The idea that he’d ruined their blossoming friendship had his soul in shambles. As soon as Blue had slipped out of his grip, he’d been wide awake, and all of last night’s events came crashing down upon him. Blue probably was going to leave and Error wouldn’t blame him if he did. He was all over Blue last night, like an animal in heat, begging him to touch him. 'What if it had only been a pity fuck?' What if all of his thoughts had been right and Blue had only remained here because he felt sorry for him?

‘I’m never going to see him again.’ Tears gathered in his eye sockets as he contemplated him walking out.

To his surprise, he felt the mattress dip as Blue slipped back under the covers, his gentle, firm hands slipping around his middle to pull him closer. Error’s world narrowed as he was cuddled, the warmth of Blue’s bones easing the developing chill on his own. He was afraid that any second Blue would reconsider and retreat, but it never happened. He let himself drift into a shallow rest, listening to the sound of Blue’s soul percolating behind his ribs. Maybe it could be alright. He could pretend to be worth his time, fake it until he made himself into the ideal choice for company. Error scooted closer to his bedmate, blushing when Blue nuzzled his skull.

Blue had texted back an ‘alright’ to Dream’s spiel. He wasn’t necessarily happy about him being right across the hall, but there was nothing he could do about it. In the meantime, he read an eBook he’d been working on while Error snoozed on his chest. He was shocked the other was sleeping so much. Blue was satisfied to think that he’d given Error a fulfilling time last night.

Error awoke suddenly, looking around as though lost before his gaze settled on Blue. Blue couldn’t help but smile at him. “Look at you sleeping the day away.”

“I-What time is it?” Error asked groggily.

“10 am. Your roommate is up. I think he brought someone over, I’ve been hearing them chatting.”

“Oh.” Error processed that, furrowing his brows. “Did you sleep well?”

“I slept like a rock.” Blue tucked his phone away. “You’re adorable, you know that?”

Error’s face flushed and he covered his face with his hands. “D-don’t say things like that.”

“Why not? It’s true. I had a great time last night, you know,” Blue said. Error huffed in response. “What, you don’t believe me?”

“I pressured you into it,” Error stated.

“Hold on, what? You’re joking, right?” Blue waited for a response, and when he got none, he said, “Error. Error, look at me.” Reluctantly he removed his hands from his face. “You never did anything like that. I wanted you, too. I still want you. Understand?”

Error was not understanding how someone so out of his league could be intrigued by him. He had scars and hadn’t polished his bones in ages. Error opened and closed his mouth, unsure of how to express the turmoil he felt. Error swallowed roughly. “This...d-does this change things? Do you still want to be, uh, around? To be friends?”

Blue appeared upset. “Of course. What–did you think I was going to sleep with you and leave? Error, That’s ridiculous!”

Error was in disbelief. He needed to hear this. “Blue, I thought I ruined it. I tho-o-ought you’d be disgusted, that I never see you again–”

“Oh, Error. Come here.” He pressed their lips together, humming into the softness of Error’s mouth against his. Error’s breath was shaky, ghosting against his face from his nasal aperture. “I’d really like to take you on a date–or we could have a date night here. You choose. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“A datE?” Error repeated in awe, watching Blue’s eyelights shift into those mesmerizing stars. He nodded, cupping Error’s jaw gently, caressing his cheek with his thumb. “Y-yes. Yes.” Error smiled, a few tears escaping his eye sockets.

“We could watch Under Novella to your soul’s content, or visit the chocolatier on the border of town with wicked good chocolate. I just want to spend time with you.”

“Me too. With y-you,” Error supplied, drying his face with his covers.

“Let’s get you coffee and something to eat,” Blue stated. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

When Error’s door opened, the conversation waned in favor of watching the two late risers emerge. Error trailed after Blue, who steeled his expression as he witnessed Dream perched on one of the bar stools at the counter as though he belonged there. Internally he cursed his boss for encroaching on his personal space. Stepping on his toes seemed to be Dream’s specialty.

“Mornin’,” Cross greeted. “The coffee is being reheated. Never have I seen you let the coffee go cold, Error.”

“Well, usually I’m not sleep-sleeping, y’know.”

“Long time no see, Blue.” He then extended a hand towards Error. Uncrossing his arms, he took Dream’s hand, if only to keep the peace. “My name is Dream. Cross has told me a lot about you.”

“Error. So you’ve been privy to my deepest, darkest secrets, huh?” Error asked, tucking his hands back under the warm underarms of his oversized sweater.

“Oh, definitely.” Cross smirked, and Error wished he was wearing his scarf. He felt exposed. “How was the date?”

“No. No-o-O, I know that look, and–” Error was blushing, opting to weave his way over to the coffee maker instead of being looked at like that, “I didn’t sign up for this. Sh-shove it, Cross.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Cross’ grin bloomed into a malicious thing and Error pointed his direction.

“You know what you were doing. You were trying to get me to say something you already know, and I’m not going to play into your hand,” Error snapped, pouring himself a tepid glass of coffee, too impatient to wait for it to heat up fully. Blue chuckled, settling for a half-cold mug of coffee as well.

“Where do you work, Error?” Dream asked idly. Error’s eyelights were sharp and suspicious as he analyzed Dream. There was an edge to his gaze and Dream was itching to deconstruct why that was.

“I do freelance work. I visit offices during the week to do copywriting and other tasks. I t-take up what corporate needs finished in a pinch. It can be tedious, but it pays well.” Error dressed his drink up with cream and sugar and opted to heat it in the microwave.

“Very nice. By the way, you’re a dedicated fellow, hanging out and working with this numskull,” Dream snarked, seeking out Cross’ expression. He wasn’t disappointed when he found Cross’ a blush dusting his face.

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” Cross whined, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I’m on no one’s side but my own, sport.” Dream stuck out his yellow tongue.

Error snorted. “Cross maybe a dolt-dolt-dolt, but he’s a fucking good at time management. I meet clients, and he’s my administrative brain power. Never had a better partner and friend in my li-ife.”

Cross was beaming. “So you do appreciate me. I knew it.” Error rolled his eyes and set his coffee down. “Stars, you’re gonna make me tear up.”

“Pshh, nah. You cry that easily, Criss Cross?” Error grumbled, patting the other’s back. Cross could be a sap at times, especially in regards to their friendship. When his buddy actually sniffled, Error’s brows shot up and he looked into Cross’ face. “Hey, he-ey, I didn’t know you were actually upset! Aw, buddy, no…”

Cross wiped the uninvited tears from his face. “I-I’m good, I’m great actually, heh. Really. I’m so damn happy you’re my friend. You’re fucking fantastic.”

Error blushed. “Yeah right, that’s all you. I’m not worth the tears. C’mere, you.” Error hugged him tightly, not caring if the entire world was watching. This was Cross–if he was upset, Error was there to figure out why and fix it. “You’re my bro, I’ve got to know wha-at’s got you all weepy. Are you going t-to spill?”

Cross chuckled, sniffling before responding, “I’m really happy you’re hanging out and actually enjoying yourself. You actually slept last night? You’re not kidding?” Cross asked, skepticism in his tone.

“I did. And trust me, I’m as shocked as you are.”

“I can vouch for that,” Blue piped up, reminding Error they had an audience. Error’s gaze met his, and Blue’s soul thudded excitedly. As much as he didn’t like having his boss present, the fact that Error had agreed to a date kept his soul light in his chest. Leaning back against the counter, he let himself be at ease. Dream wasn’t about to ruin the atmosphere for him.

~

“I have a request for your next job,” Nightmare hummed, uncorking a bottle of tart apple brew he’d saved to butter up his rather rigid freelancer. Error’s mouth watered, accepting a glass of the bubbly elixir gladly. Tangy and crisp, it was a stark contrast to the color, which was the blackest hue he’d ever seen in an alcoholic beverage.

“Alright. Do tell,” Error coaxed, magic already affected by the delightful drink.

“I know you're a lone wolf, but there’s someone who has been referred to me who would like to work alongside you for this job,” Nightmare expressed, not missing the way the corners of Error’s mouth turned down. “This isn’t an insult to your skill. A comrade of mine is cashing in on a favor, and his friend knows you. If you decide to take up this offer, I’ll add on a bonus.” Error’s curiosity intermixed with the distaste he held for the idea of working with someone else while executing a hit led him to ponder. A bonus didn’t sound too bad. “It is only a request. If it is too much, I understand.” Nightmare’s tentacles flicked idly, a knowing expression cuing Error into the fact that his boss wanted him to agree. Error felt pressured.

Error's soul churned. ‘What if this was a test? Could I be replaced that easily?’

“My int-interest is piqued. When can I meet the lucky g-guy?” Error asked, feeling slighted and bristly as his boss cracked a smile.

“He’s been waiting for you. Dust, you may join us now,” Nightmare called, his teal eyelight flickering brighter at the sound of footsteps nearing the lounge. Error’s soul thudded uncomfortably at that name, his anxiety spiking as his potential counterpart entered, his features obscured by a hood. His eyes were cold and calculating under that lip of fabric, one of them ringed in crimson, the other deeper red and searing cyan. He shoved a hand in Error’s direction. Error scowled. He was just as he remembered him.

“Is that any way to greet a pal?” Dust snarked, his tone smug. He’d wanted to work with Error for a while, but since he was slippery, he’d had no luck in the past. Maybe if Error had been more thoughtful, he’d have asked who it was he would be partnered up with. “Don’t jump for joy now, kiddo.”

“Don’t you ki-i-iddo me,” Error hissed, swatting Dust’s hand out of his space. “Go make a joke of someone else, why don't you?"

“You’ve got it all wrong. Just humor me–”

“No, that’s just it. It’s a game-game to you. You’ve had a multitude of chances to shape up,” Error whisper-yelled. Nightmare sat down in his comfortable armchair across the room, offering the two some privacy.

“Give me once more then. Error, the pay is good. I’ve improved, dammit. I'm not the same Dust ya knew then.”

“I get paid well enough. I don’t need to ge-et more for babysitting you,” Error growled.

“Grant me this opportunity and I won’t bother you again,” Dust stated, eyelights pleading. Error rubbed his temples, mulling it over. He didn’t want to. He’d agreed, because of the amount Nightmare would pay him and of course the growing suspicion that the stakes would get higher as time went on. Someone would come along and replace him. He could always fall back on the Fell brothers, but he didn’t want to think of jeopardizing any part of his career. It was one time, no more, and that it would be easy enough. He could deal with it. Error sighed in exasperation.

“Just once,” he bit out. Dust’s smile spread across his features in response.

“Just once,” Dust echoed. Error shook Dust’s hand, not bothering to justify this interaction with any more conversation than necessary. Nightmare then laid the job out for them, detailing all they'd need to know about their targets.

Error tossed his stuff to the ground, cursing Nightmare and Dust both. That was a cheap shot. Nightmare was aware of how much he hated having someone else fucking up his flow. Now he was obliged to play nice with that fool from his past. Snarling, he shut his bedroom door and kicked off his pants. He was burrowed under his covers in no time, hands tangling in their warmth. Closing his eyelids, he could see him–Blue’s wicked expression as he teased him, the pressure of his sternum against him, the taste of his tongue in his mouth…

His ecto formed, filling out lower abdomen and thighs to accent his plush core. Reaching up into the hollow of his ribcage, he brushed the carapace of his soul, gasping into the silence of his room as the rarely touched organ trembled with keen sensation. Clenching his thighs together, he could feel the slick of his arousal gathering. Trailing his other hand downward between his legs, he envisioned it was Blue’s digits parting his folds, dipping into the warmth of his opening. Parting his thighs, Error whimpered, curling his digits as he pressed them further in, his other hand caressing his soul in tandem. Skull fuzzy with lust and bones burning hotter with the idea of Blue’s hands all over him, he panted out in desperation. ‘Blue, j-just like that, deeper, yeah, yes–’

“Blue,” he breathed, hips squirming to find the sweet spot the other had hit last time they’d slept together. Chest rising and falling, sweat beading up on the surface of his bones, Error ground against his hand and fingers, spreading his digits inside him, and grazed his soul in a particularly sensitive area. “Blue, Blue, f-fuck-” he clenched around his digits, his jaw falling open as raw, electric pleasure blossomed throughout his pelvis, climbing his spine to provide a feedback of the white-hot bliss of his soul being so intimately handled. He moaned, trembling through an orgasm so intense he swore he felt it in his molars. Coming down from it, gasping for air, he reached for his cell phone.

Blue?

A few moments passed before his phone chirped. Error smiled tiredly.

Blue: I was thinking about you :) How are u?

Error flushed. Blue was thinking about him. Had he also been…?

kinda miss you Error typed, before pausing to think about whether or not he wanted to send it. ‘Fuck it.’ He hit send.

Blue:We’re in the same boat then. How about breakfast tomorrow?

Error felt giddy as he turned on his camera to capture a photo of himself. His face was flushed, and light from his soul highlighted his features. If it wasn’t obvious that he’d been participating in some laborious activities then he didn’t know what was. He hit send.

Yessss Error responded

Blue:are you trying to tempt me?

bc it’s working

The sensation between his thighs hadn’t dissipated. Especially not when Blue hinted at feeling the same. Error shifted the blanket down slightly exposing the rich blue ecto of his hip. His shirt kept the photo decent, but it was obvious the message he wanted to send. Biting his tongues, he sent the image.

Blue:you have my attention

I want to caress every inch of you and make you scream like last time ;)

Error’s grip on the phone tightened and he contemplated the likelihood of Blue being open for a visit. He definitely wreaked of sex and the sweat was still clinging to his bones. Worrying his lower lip with his teeth, he texted Do u think u could remind me?

Blue:I could do that for you

Error: Yes yes please

I know a shortcut to ur place

only if u want company tho

Blue: Shortcut? Error it’s freezing

I’ll come pick you up

Haphazardly tugging on a pair of shorts and a tee shirt, the light of Error’s eyes intensified as he opened a path through time and space to the location of Blue’s apartment. While usually trusty, teleporting from one place to another was an imperfect art. Error found himself standing right outside Blue’s apartment door in a dimly lit hallway. A flickering light and the sound of footsteps coming from somewhere further down prompted Error’s quick knocking; he clenched his thighs together as the evidence of his arousal permeated the crotch of his shorts.

‘Shit shit shit, c’mon–’

“Error,” Blue exclaimed, pulling him inside and out of the hallway. Bewildered and excited, Blue kissed him, humming as he cupped Error’s face in his hands. “Error, you–how are you here?”

“Something I learned a long time ago. I meant to e-end up inside your apartment,” Error admitted, face glowing with embarrassment as he was keenly aware of the dampness clinging to his inner thighs. “Maybe I could show you later?”

“Yeah? I’d like that a lot,” Blue said, leaning in to capture Error’s mouth once again in a heated kiss. “I wouldn’t get lost, would I?”

Error clicked his tongue, sliding into the other’s lap as Blue sat down on his couch. “No. I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”

“That’s a relief.” Blue’s hands settled on Error’s hips, squeezing affectionately. “Error...can I go down on you?” Blue ventured, hands trembling in anticipation. Error tilted his skull, pondering the idea before nodding. “You’ll let me?” Blue asked, soul feeling as though it might burst at the thought alone.

“Yeah, uh, s-sure.” 'Smooth response. Is that all you can say?' Error asked himself. This threw him off so far his head felt as though it was spinning. Leaning back, he felt Blue’s gaze centered on his core, where the material of his shorts had long since soaked through. Blue’s eyes were a brilliant azure hue as he undressed Error mentally. He pressed a digit to the area where he knew the pert little nub was under the wet material. Error twitched. “You’re staring.”

Blue snorted. “Of course I am. You’re pretty to look at.”

Error voiced a guttural complaint. “Can’t y-ya just–?”

“I need these off.” Blue sought the waistband and Error lifted his hips. His shorts were forgotten in lieu of the sight Blue was entranced by. Settling down on his front, Blue breathed against Error’s exposed pussy, high on the intense lust driving his actions. He gently lapped at the protruding nub, and Error jerked, gasping as the action was repeated, only with Blue’s hands gripping his hips to hold him close to his face. “Mmm, you're so sensitive. You were touching yourself, weren’t you?”

Error looked away, uttering a quiet ‘yes’. Blue’s gaze between his thighs was far more intense than it had any right to be.

“When you texted me, I was just about to do the same. Heh, I was thinking about doing this to you, actually.” Blue swirled his tongue around the cobalt clit before creating a seal and sucking. Error gripped the couch cushions, legs trembling as the other assaulted his swelling nub, whimpering as it bordered on too much. Blue pulled off with a ‘pop’, smiling wickedly at the other skeleton. He moved downward again, providing barely there licks to his opening before forcing his tongue into the velvety passage. Error cried out, clenching down on the perfect pressure inside of him.

“A-ah, yes, I was fingering myself–” Error choked as Blue’s tongue curled, squirming and flexing just right so that the knot in his core tightened so fucking intensely “Thinking about you-u, imagining it wa-as your fingers spreading me open,” Error rambled, rolling his hips against Blue’s face as far as that restraining grip would allow him to. “I’m r-really close.”

‘Uh huh’ Blue groaned in agreement, doubling down on his efforts, massaging the thick hips in his hands as he ate the other out. He sought out the uppermost portion of Error’s pussy, lapping incessantly at the spongy-soft ecto there, and Error’s voice took on a shriller edge.

“Blue, BlUe, fuck, I-I’m cumming, I–” his frame stiffened, and fluids rushing to meet his tongue. Blue lapped gently, working him through it before pressing a kiss to a thigh next to his skull.

There was silence aside from Error’s heavy breathing as he came down from the pleasure filled release. Sitting up with not so little effort, he found Blue’s mouth, teasing his tongue with his own collection. Blue welcomed him, hands caressing his formed abdomen, squeezing his backside roughly. Error’s mouth watered as he brushed against Blue’s erection, and he gripped what he could of it through his pants. Blue groaned in agreement, pushing into Error’s hand, roaming hands applying more pressure to his pliable ectoflesh. Error parted from him, settling on the ground in between the other’s legs before freeing Blue’s cock from it’s confines. Eyeing it, he noted it was slightly thicker at the base; it was nice, weighing solidly in his hands. The dick throbbed as he gave a playful squeeze.

“You don’t have to,” Blue supplied, being so stupidly sweet as he cupped Error’s jaw fondly.

Of course he didn’t have to. He didn’t have to be here, but he was, because he fucking wanted to be. He craved Blue’s company, desired his touch, and dammit, he was going to suck his dick!

He’d never sucked dick.

There was a first time for everything though. Leaning in, he allowed the head of the brilliant azure cock access to the inside of his mouth, introducing his tongues into the mix immediately. Blue’s reaction was instant, tensing up and groaning at the contact as his length met warmth.

“I just don’t want you to feel pressured,” Blue stated, his voice wavering as Error took him further into his mouth, sucking before swallowing tentatively. Blue shivered in delight. “B-but if you insist, I won’t stop you, babe.”

Error took the thicker portion into his mouth, feeling the tip of Blue’s cock slipping down his throat. Blinking back tears, he swallowed, fighting the urge to gag before actually gagging around the sizable girth. Imagining Blue’s dick was a thick popsicle (that throbbed in his mouth, responding to the squirming motions of his tongues) he centered himself around making Blue feel good. Moving his skull in a bobbing rhythm, he established a better pattern.

“O~ohhh, keep doing that. I had no idea you were so good with your mouth,” Blue praised, hand perched atop Error’s cranium as he sucked him off. “Good boy,” he purred, slouching further back into the couch, giving Error more room to work with. “So, hm, talented, aren’t you?”

Error’s face had heated up with the shame and pleasure he wrought from having Blue’s cock nearly all the way down his conjured throat now. Inviting even more participation on Blue’s part, he gripped at the other’s hips, rocking them forward so that the turgid length slid wetly in and out of his mouth. Tentatively taking Error’s skull between his hands, he used his mouth, groaning at the sight of his length disappearing past the other’s lips. Tears collected in Error’s eye sockets, but his eyes were half-lidded, emitting a warm glow as he allowed himself to be manhandled.

“Error, baby, you look so pretty,” Blue said, voice wavering with lust and strong emotion. “Stars, you’re perfect, just like that, y-yeah,” he praised, thrusting deeply into Error’s mouth as he felt his lust increase tenfold. “I want you in my lap. I want you sitting on my cock,” Blue growled, withdrawing from Error’s mouth abruptly before lifting him up onto him. Error’s world spun as his fuck-drunk mind registered the dick in his mouth was no more and he was face to face with his new lover.

“W-what? You didn’t cum–”

“Not yet,” Blue confirmed, seeking out Error’s clit as he lined himself up at Error’s glistening opening. Error obliged him, sliding onto the lubricated length and sighing in satisfaction. What followed was less rushed, passionate sex that left him breathless and gripping at Blue’s shoulder blades. Time became irrelevant as he moved in tandem with Blue, hips gyrating languidly in his lap, obscene sounds a reminder that Error had been at this for hours now. Whimpering, sucking at Blue’s cervical vertebrae, he focused on how wonderful and wanted he felt. He nuzzled him, emitting breathy sounds he had given up on suppressing now that he was keenly aware of the sensations of the back of his canal being nudged over and over. Blue had probably stretched him out a good degree by this point.

When Blue’s breathing sped up and his movements became less coordinated, Error gripped his shoulders, grinding his hips downward to meet the other’s eager thrusts. Crying out, Error tried to mind the loudness of his voice, but it was easier said than done.

“I-inside me. I want it inside! Come on, Blue,” Error pleaded, bouncing in his lap aided by Blue’s strength. Error would’ve been enthusiastically partaking if not for his legs which had gone numb. They were about as useful as limp noodles at the moment, but Blue didn’t seem bothered. Pistoning his hips a few more times, he came, groaning out Error’s name with a level of endearment that left the other speechless. Squeezing his eyes shut, Error drifted in a plane of bliss, distantly aware that Blue was holding him close enough that the pounding of his soul could be felt distinctly.

Error was in trouble.

Because he was deep in over his skull with Blue and there was no way he was going to forfeit this budding relationship. Over his dusted body, he decided.

Chapter Text

The Fells contacted him after a leisurely breakfast with Blue. Error was expecting a text, but the fact that it took away from being held against the taller skeleton’s sternum. Begrudgingly, he gathered what little clothing he had, graciously accepting a sweater and a pair of sweatpants from Blue. It smelled just like him.

Throwing on a scarf from his own room and sliding on his leather sneakers, he checked his face in the mirror for any evidence of his rendezvous with Blue. He was all clear. Then he left, nothing on his mind but how much he didn’t want to see them, or take a job for a hit. But here he was, driving up to their pandemonium, smoke curling up into the peachy sky dulled by the smog of the city. Whoop de doo.

“Well, Strings, that was fast. C’mon in,” Red beckoned. The scent of fried eggs and toast permeated the house, and as Error entered, he was reminded that he’d forgotten to grab coffee. Maybe the two would be gracious hosts. “Boss, our boy’s here!”

“You don’t have to shout, brother, I’m right the fuck here,” Boss growled, turning a corner into the room, tablet in hand. “Hello, Error. How are you?”

“I’ve been better. I’d be more alert with a cup of coffee.”

“Heh, can do. Sweet like usual?” Red asked, already pouring the freelancer a steaming mug.

“Don’t skimp on c-cream and sugar,” Error responded. He took a seat, rubbing his hands together to ward off the clinging chill. He was thankful when his toasty cup was placed in his hands.

“So, about the assignment. It’s nothing ya haven’t done before. Two targets, I’ve got their information here,” Red placed a file down on the table. “I’ve got a pretty clear idea where you’ll find them this upcoming week.”

Error leafed through the file, analyzing the faces of the two. One was a middle-aged woman, another was a distinguished appearing man with groomed facial hair and a receding hairline. Sipping on his coffee, he read through what was typed up for him, waiting for caffeine to offer some assistance.

“Timeframe?” Error asked.

“One week at most. I’d prefer five days, but I won’ push my luck. Don’t doubt ya’ll surprise me though, Strings.”

“Noted. I’ll have it ha-handled before then.”

“We know you will,” Boss stated, his height causing him to loom over the rest of the inhabitants of the room. “I’ll add a bonus if you can make this especially clean. Authorities have been nosy as of late. I don’t want officers sniffing around the perimeter of the Fell property to become a common occurrence.”

Error nodded. “ That sounds like a fair deal.”

“Course it does, sugar. And we know ya won’t disappoint us. Heheh, can’t I brag about ya, Strings,” Red chuckled, his claws clacking against the tabletop. Error’s eyelights followed the light reflecting off of the rings adorning Red’s thick digits.

“I’m, uh, flattered,” Error said, shutting the file. “Anything else?”

“Yeah. There is, actually.” Red stood. “Come walk with me.”

Error obliged him. Sometimes Red liked company, other times he’d rather hide away and stew in his thoughts. Their history was business, flirting, and the one time Error had taken it further. A tangible tension existed between them now. Red had been giving him lingering glances, and Error could feel his bones bristle in response. It wasn’t as though he was tied down, but having just slept with Blue and cuddled with him all night, it felt bad to be contemplating his employer’s finesse in the bedroom. Blue was enough. He didn’t want it with anyone else.

“So, ‘bout the last time ya were over. We got pretty fucked up and–” Red’s hand was on the back of his cervical vertebrae, and he seemed uncharacteristically shy, “You, uh, are y’okay, Strings?”

Error blinked, not quite expecting to be asked that question. “I’m fine. Is there any reason yo-ou’re asking?”

“I broke some boundaries,” Red stated, face dusted a crimson over his zygomatic bones, “And I know I shouldn’t ‘ave. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. It’s not a huge deal. Really,” Error reassured, feeling his face heat up as well. Some part of him assumed their one night stand would be dust in the wind, but apparently not. “I, u-um, it was good–I mean, it’s all good.” Shut up shutupshutup. Error’s mouth felt like sandpaper. “You don’t ne-e-eed to apologize.”

“Yeah?” Red’s gaze felt all the more intense now. “It was fer me, too. Real good. But in the grand scheme of things, it ain’t professional of me. Boss was convinced we lost ya over my stupidity.”

Error quirked a brow. Lost him over a drunken one night stand? Ridiculous. It was all good until his hangover hit, and that had been remedied by Blue’s wonderful food and company. “I’m not going anywhere. Wha-at I got with you and Boss is far too lucrative,” Error commented, without voicing the parallel train of thought that said ‘I couldn’t leave if I tried, because you’d send someone to collect my skull.’

“Alright. I’m glad yer feelin’ okay about things. By the way, I got a little somethin’ for ya. Nothin’ big.” Red opened a thick, mahogany door, and beckoned for Error to enter. “I understand if receiving gifts isn’t yer forte, but consider this part of your job.”

Error was in awe. The room opened into a walk-in closet chock full of clothes–nice clothes. His eyelights scanned the suits, slacks, shirts and coats lining the racks, and were drawn in particular to the clothes laid out on an ottoman. There were ties, a few suits, soft looking shirts (cashmere if he had to guess), and button up garments. He looked to his boss for an explanation.

“These are for ya,” Red conveyed, beckoning to the stylish collection on the furniture. Error looked at him like he’d sprouted a third eye socket. Red chuckled. “This,” he picked up a black, long-sleeved shirt, “Is waterproof and resistant to staining. Liquid on the fabric rolls right off.”

“O-oh,” Error responded, overwhelmed at the idea of this clothing being all his. Why did he deserve this again? Why was Fell just giving this all to him? Was there a catch? “While that shirt is impressive and really soft–why am I receiving a-all of this again?”

“Consider it a token of our appreciation.” Red laid the shirt down, retrieving a suit jacket. “I figured ya could use a lil’ update to yer wardrobe is all.”

Error was flabbergasted as he took the suit being offered to him. The material was heavenly against his digits, and he was positive it was far out of his price range. He felt panic rising in his ribcage. “Thank you, Red. I like them. I...heh, wasn’t expecting this.”

“I figured. Ya can give ‘em a look through and I’ll help ya pack up.”

Error was right. In the mix of impeccable clothing, there were a handful of cashmere sweaters. He hoped the flush in his joints wasn’t visible to his boss duo as he left with a ton of clothing that matched his exact measurements. This was a new development which Error wasn’t certain he liked.

Saturday rolled around. It was his date with Blue. Everything should’ve been simple. He had an entirely new wardrobe: how hard could it be to put together an outfit? Then he overthought things, and he was back to square one. The problem was when Blue came to mind, he felt a little bit like he might suffocate, implode, or melt, possibly all at once. There was this buzz in his soul so much more potent than alcohol, so much deeper, and he was convinced he might actually faint if he let himself focus on it.

And it was all Blue’s fault.

Then there was the problem that occurred when he was around him now, since he was so adamant on being touchy (not that Error minded) his body decided it was time to go into full blown arousal mode. Ecto, boom, right in place, and not even a little bit discreet, filling out his pants. Every skeleton monster would know he was either really horny or an exhibitionist, or both, and Error would rather others keep their fucking eyes and opinions to themselves. It’s not like anyone did, though. People and monsters were both nosy. Error sighed.

Slipping into a sleek pair of dark pants and a sweater, he grabbed a bag and headed out to see his lover. He didn’t want to disappoint Blue, so he suggested dinner out. He didn’t like crowds, but maybe Blue did. Not everyone was a recluse. Pulling up to the venue, he checked himself out in the driver’s side mirror.

Blue, as always, looked radiant and suave. Error felt like an anxiety-ridden, sleep deprived basket case. Self-depreciative thoughts seemed to evaporate from him when Blue caught sight of him, though, and his face took on a look of something else. Error’s insides flipped, and if he had guts, they might have been outside of him at this point. Blue had done something to him, he swore it was mind control, because he was powerless to turn away from that endearing expression.

“Boy, am I glad to see you,” Blue said, wrapping Error in a hug that melted all of his fears and consoled his deep set worries. He hugged him back, resting his skull in that space between his shoulder and jaw that was made for his head. “I missed you like crazy, ya know? Couldn’t focus on work no matter how hard I tried.”

“Well, I ha-ave a way of screwing with people I hear.” Error smirked, making himself comfortable in the booth. “On the real, though, you’ve been on my mind, t-t-too. Tch, Mr. Perfect,” Error grumbled, flicking Blue’s fingers playfully. “Stealing my sleep and my thoughts.”

Blue rolled his eyelights. “You need to stop drinking so much caffeine, Error. You overdo it to the point I’m surprised you sleep at all with me.”

“Heheh, that’s not the coffe-ee’s fault,” he giggled, and Blue swatted Error’s arm with the cloth napkin. “What? I’m just being an honest boy. I’m a good boy, right?”

“Good evening!” The waiter greeted and Error’s eyelights shrunk down to pinpoints. Blue choked, playing it off as a cough as he tried to disguise his laughter. Clearing his throat, he ordered a bottle of chardonet while they perused the menu. Sweat clung to Error’s skull like dew drops on a mushroom. When the waiter left, he exhaled.

“Breathe,” Blue coaxed. Leaning forward, he said in a smooth, deep voice, “Of course you’re my good boy.” He pressed a kiss to Error’s temple. “If you keep it up, I’ll treat you to something hard and thick.” He winked.

He took a mental photo of his date’s precious blush dusting his face and neck. Error seemed to have crashed, so he gave him time to collect himself, all the while offering a reassuring smile. He had all dinner to push his date’s buttons.

When Error’s spine hit the mattress, Blue was already between his thighs, slicking his length before entering him in a smooth thrust that had him moaning. Contrary to what they’d engaged in before, this was slow and passionate. Blue’s movements were slow, agonizingly so, and Error’s breathing became heavier as his body responded in tandem, lifting his hips to meet every thrust, whining when he couldn’t encourage his lover to pick up the pace. Blue tutted.

“I thought you were going to be a good boy,” he said, feigning disappointment. Error narrowed his eyes at him, scowling. “Don’t give me that look, mister.”

“I am being good,” Error growled, grabbing Blue’s hips firmly before attempting to hilt the other inside of him. Blue’s strength won out, and Error pouted. “Blu~uuue. You’re being so difficult.”

“On the contrary, you’re being a brat.” Error stiffened, and Blue smiled seductively. “Do you need to be taught a lesson, Error?”

Error’s soul fluttered excitedly, the idea of Blue being anything but chivalrous and caring extremely exciting. He shifted under Blue, biting at the sides of his tongues. “What’re you going to d-do to me? Heh, what kinky shit are you into?”

“Give me a safe word and I can show you,” Blue whispered, digits tweaking Error’s ribs while he loomed over him, dick still hilted inside of him. “Unless you’re satisfied with the previous pace. I like watching you squirm.”

“Silver,” Error admitted, clenching down and hoping that might encourage Blue to move. On the contrary, Blue kept him pinned, sneering wickedly.

“Wonderful, hon. Now then, shout that safe word,” Blue said, his smile fading into a serious expression. “Use it if things get too intense.”

“Tch. Of course. You worry too much. I’m all yours, Blue.”

“Perfect.” In a flash of movement, Error’s wrists were bound in magic chords and lifted above his skull. Blue’s right eyelight had faded, the electric azure glowing fiercely in his left socket giving him a hauntingly beautiful appearance. “I think it’d do you good to learn some manners.”

“Teach me to be better be-behaved,” Error mocked. There was a sharp tug on his ribs, and Error gasped. Blue let go of his sternum, scooting back until his cock slid free, leaving the other pitifully empty. Error whined, brows pinching in frustration. “H-hey, that’s not–come back here,” he pleaded, gaze switching between Blue’s near purple erection and his stone cold expression.

‘Fuck, that’s hot. Keep looking at me like that.’ Error shivered.

“You’re not in control here,” Blue said, voice husky and controlled. “Just remember that. I make the rules. I want to see that you can behave. Are you going to be a good boy?”

“Yeah, I’ll be good.”

“Will you?” Blue tweaked a floating rib, and Error twitched.

“I’ll be the best boy,” Error insisted, face burning bright with lust and embarrassment. He huffed, looking away. “Si-sir?”

The sly smile returned to Blue’s handsome face. “Yes?”

“Touch me. Please?”

Blue’s hands, barely there, caressed his formed abdomen, digits tickling the ecto with the tips of his digits. “That’s it. Now, was that so hard?” Error whimpered, arching into the feather-light touch. Blue’s hands disappeared behind him, caressing his shoulder blades before wrapping back around his sternum, tethers of brightly glowing magic connecting into a makeshift harness at his sternum. Error was intrigued. “There we go. Look at that. Beautiful and all wrapped up, just for me,” Blue praised, tugging at the new addition to Error’s diaphragm. Error’s wrists popped free of the taut cord holding them above his head, and he brought his bound wrists to rest on his abdomen. “This isn’t too tight, right?” Blue felt around the magic, making sure there was enough room between the magic ribbon and the other’s wrist bones.

“No, it’s fine,” Error reassured, the pressure on his torso doing things to him and reinforcing the fact that Blue was in control...or at least wanted to be. He liked when Error was stubborn, so Error would give him stubbornness. Although laying back and taking it sounded nice for a summer evening, it wasn’t his style; Error could bottom while putting up resistance. Yeah. “It’s stopping me from grabbing that thick cock of yours, hu-uh-uh?”

“You bet, baby,” Blue purred, digits spreading Error’s pussy lips and dallying there, as if they had forever to waste, dousing themselves in the scent of sex and frustration. Error snarled, his patience waning. He squirmed, testing the limits of the harness and Blue’s hold on him. After going limp for a moment, he abruptly twisted, jerking his way out from under the other, flinging himself off the side of the mattress. Blue looked at him in shock before he gave chase.

Error sprinted into the living room, skidding on the rug and barely catching himself before he hit the coffee table. Cursing his luck with short tables, he dashed into the half-bath, slamming the door and narrowly escaping his horny pursuer. Leaning his spine against the door, he fiddled with the lock, soul hammering wildly in his ribcage behind the illustrious harness Blue had crafted. Speaking of Blue, the magic around his torso thrummed with its owner’s reactions on the other side of the door.

“Open the door now,” Blue demanded, voice sending chills up and down Error’s spine. He growled, digging his feet into the slippery marble tile.

“No.”

“That wasn’t a suggestion,” Blue hissed, shoving it open and dislodging his flighty partner from his post on the other side. Listening for an utterance of the safe word, he slipped in, lifting Error up to his level by the front of his harness. Error’s sour expression added to the sadistic edge he felt prickling at his psyche, urging him to push things, to take it a little further. “Tsk. What the fuck was that?”

Error shivered. Blue didn’t curse. He just didn’t. It was just becoming interesting, the strangeness of the situation egging him on. Error bared his teeth, canines on display. Blue reciprocated, a growl piercing the tense air of the small powder room. He jerked Error by the halter, daring him to take up further attitude with him. Error rose to the occasion, baring his teeth in all of their golden yellow glory. His back hit the wall, stealing the air from his being in one fell swoop. Blue was there to push his skull back, pinpoint eyelights and narrowed eye sockets filling Error’s vision. Error scrambled with his feet, feeling like he’d slip through the harness the way the other was holding him above the floor.

SMACK.

“Quit it,” Blue barked, the area where his hand had landed leaving Error’s ass stinging. Error stilled, processing the situation. Holy stars, Blue was playing steely and pissed all too well, and his thighs were slick, and fuck, he liked that heavy-handedness more than he wanted to admit. ‘Breathe’. “Are you aiming to piss me off?”

“B-Blue–”

“What as that?” Blue snapped, jostling the other against the wall once more. “Not sure I heard that correctly. Try again.”

Error clenched his jaw. His spine twinged with pain. “Sir?”

“Hm. That’s what I thought.” He leaned closer, the pips of his eyelights searing. Icy.

“Please,” Error pleaded, breathing hindered by the harness. “I want you s-so bad,” he said shakily, shame creeping into his tone as he thought hard about how he was being handled and how turned on he was by being treated rudely.

“You want, huh? Tsk, it’s all about what you want,” he snarled, dropping Error suddenly so that he staggered, nearly falling on his ass. “Alright. Make it up to me, why don’t you.”

In a swift movement, Blue had him, bending him over the basin of the sink, lifting one of his legs up under the knee to spread him wide. Error was face to face with his own desperate expression, getting intimate with the old crack in his left eye socket, the sweat beading up on his forehead and the rings of his eyelights fluctuating as Blue loomed over him. His clit was rolled between pointer digit and thumb before being pinched, drawing a gasp from him, resulting in an ache emanating deep inside his pelvis, throbbing. “Hug my dick tight, won’tcha?” The liquid silk tone asked so sweetly before he was filled abruptly and all at once. Error keened.

Mouth open, scrabbling for purchase, Error angled his pelvis, howling as Blue nailed his sweet spot. His forearms slipped over the cold surface of the sink, and he’d given up on keeping up a façade of togetherness–drool was spilling from the corner of his mouth as he was used. His bones burned with sensation. The magic binding his hands tight (almost too tight), the harness being grabbed roughly, and then his jaw being manhandled, Blue’s digits mingled with his tongues, forcing him to witness himself being fucked.

Blue slapped the luscious ass in his hands, reveling in the five-star markings he left imprinted on the other’s ecto. Error was an absolute mess. At this point, he couldn’t tell if the liquid dripping off of Error’s face was tears, sweat, or drool, but regardless, Blue ate up the sight. His voice was becoming shriller, glitching punctuating his cries, and Blue suspected he was nearing his end. He also noticed he was slipping more, his energy waning, so Blue pressed the other’s spine against the wall. Lifting him, he reentered Error, crushing his body against his and the wall hard enough to bruise.

“C-cum for me, Error,” he urged, slamming into him. “Come on, baby, I know you’re close. Let go” He thumbed away the moisture on the other’s face before kissing him deeply, groaning as Error responded with passion. Error broke the kiss, wrapping his legs around the other as tightly as he could manage.

“I’m so clo-ose. I-I, ghh, Blue, yes yesyes!” Error seized up, sobbing in bliss as he fluttered around Blue. “I’m cumming, I’m cumming--”

“Error, Error, you’re so good,” Blue clutched him closer, his emotions bubbling up inside him as the resistance in his pelvis snapped, “Oh, ohhho fuck!” He hilted himself as deeply as he could inside of the other. Breathing heavily, he pulled himself together, releasing the magic bonds from Error’s wrists and sternum. Error’s breathing was shaky, his posture slack, leaning heavily against Blue.

“Error?”

“Mnhmm?”

“Talk to me,” Blue insisted.

Error opened an eye socket slightly. “Tha-at was so good, Blue. Oh my Stars…” he chuckled, patting the other’s sternum affectionately.

“That wasn’t too much, was it?”

“Did I safe word?” Error asked, nuzzling into Blue’s clavicle. “I’m fine. Are you o-okay?”

“Mweheh, I’m great. Couldn’t be better, actually.”

“Really?” Error ventured, a confused smile sneaking into his expression. “You...I’m…” He sighed heavily, lower lip quivering slightly as a rush of exhaustion and doubt and sadness hit him, “I’m not used to being wanted...the way you wa-a-ant me, Blue.”

“Yes, really. I don’t just want you,” Blue laced his fingers with Error’s, “I really really like you, Error. It’s okay, I’m here. I’m here.”

Error felt crushed. He’d enjoyed it all immensely, the intensity of it, the debasement, it was all up his alley. So why did he feel so low? “I-I’m sorry. I liked it, I lo –like you so much. I just feel hollowed out.”

“Don’t be sorry. This happens. You did so well. There’s nothing to apologize for,” Blue soothed, carrying Error with him to his full bath where he turned on the tap. Testing the water, he let his lover rest his skull on his shoulder, stroking the ridges along his spine. “I want you to relax. Let me take care of you.”

Error nodded, not bothering to put up a fight. He was settled in Blue’s lap, the warm water soothing his bones and still formed ecto. With a soft rag, Blue cleaned him, taking time to comfort him during the sudden drop in his emotions. Before he knew it, the tub was draining, and Blue had wrapped him in a towel, guiding him back to his bedroom to tuck him in. Error felt water trickle past his firm lips and he gulped it down, emptying the entire glass. He threw the clothes that had been stained by their lovemaking in the dirty wash and sidled up behind Error, kissing the ridges of his neck bones. He wrapped his hands around his middle, caressing the ecto that would dissipate as the other drifted off to sleep.

~

Dressed in his dark, new swag meant for getting sharp and shooty and staying clear of stains, Error set off to meet his unfortunate counterpart for the job. Smelling of evaporating morning dew, exhaust, and breakfast cuisine, the city was barely alive. Supposedly their targets were early risers, preferring to get the hustle on before most others had even begun to stir. If he wasn’t mistaken, one guy was having a mimosa while his pal had ordered some coffee-rum concoction that had Error frowning in distaste. These guys were living in their own bubble, their pals all tipsy and dawn hadn’t even officially broken. What a charming group of fellas.

“You look happy to be alive,” Dust said, cleaning his weapon of choice as they set up shop. Since the group wasn’t moving, they could establish a lookout point and judge the best time to lodge the bullet in the targets’ skulls. Until then, Error had to deal with his unwanted partner.

“Ecstatic,” he groused, thumbing the cartridge into his gun, sliding the well cared for components into place with ease. Adjusting the safe, he set it down, pulling out his glasses and to look through binoculars at the party, unsuspecting of the source of their doom lingering just out of sight.

“Still not a big talker, huh?” Dust asked, as if he didn’t already know how the other felt about him. He smiled eerily, his admiration for the professional murder-for-hire bordering on obsession. He considered it an ode to Error’s accomplishments; he’d always desired a mentor. Error always turned him down in the past. Maybe he could convince him to reconsider. It was worth a try in Dust’s mind. “Nightmare had a lot of positive things to say about you, you know? Not that I need to be convinced. Heh.”

Error’s phone buzzed, once, twice, and a third time in quick succession. He figured it was Blue. He let him sleep after their night of play. He didn’t answer the texts. Now wasn’t the time to become distracted, after all. He already had one persistent distraction right in front of him.

Error sighed, giving the other a seething glare. “You know my-y-y thoughts on your persistent prying,” Error snapped. “You struck gold this time thanks to having a mutual connection with Nightmare. Don’t take it for granted.”

Dust let the venomous tone run off his back like water. “I’m not taking anything for granted. It’s just a treat I get to work alongside you. That’s it. No funny business, promise.”

Error grunted, adjusting the scope of his weapon in order to see his targets clearly. Disregarding his bad eyelight, he aimed as though he was about to take a shot, narrowing his good eyelight as he estimated their movements now until the time he wanted to take them out. Locking it into place, he set his weapon down again, stretching to loosen up.

“Talk doesn’t mean a thing, Dust. The fa-act that you had to go through someone Nightmare owes speaks to your desperation.”

More texts flooded in, and Error surmised Blue was worried. He didn’t much like impromptu occurrences. It was unfortunate he had to leave so early. He’d much rather have stayed wrapped up in his arms all morning.

“Ya wouldn’t have given me the time of day otherwise,” Dust commented, scowling. “You know I’m sorry for being such a dickhead, right? Right?”

Error tugged the kinks out of his knuckles, rolling his eyelights. “You’re right. I woud-dn’t have. I don’t know if you realized how destructive you were. Maybe you need longer to think a-about it.”

“Error, please, don’t block me out. I’m better. I’m not asking for anything but a bit of your time–”

“What happened to just this once?” Error snapped.

“I–listen. You’re right.” Dust conceded. “I was a complete ass to you in university. I wanted to befriend you, but I went about it completely wrong. I didn’t see it at the time.”

Error was silent, making miniscule adjustments to his tripod. He sighed. “Prove to me you-u’ve changed. This isn’t an invi-itation, by the way,” he growled. “I don’t want a fucking stalker, thanks.”

Dust perked up. “You’re serious?”

More text messages. Error ignored them.

“When haven’t I been?” Error asked with a deadpan expression. “By the way, what in the V-void are you doing with that? You’re going to damage it.” Error approached, aiming the weapon away from the both of them.”Here, let me-e–”

“I’ve got this. Error, I appreciate it, but I can handle it–”

“Tch. You’ve worn down the coating, se-ee? Just lemme do you a sol-solid–”

It wasn’t a blast, but more of a harsh, tinny ‘ping’ as the bullet left the gun. Dust knew it was all fucked even before the sound occurred because Error’s grip turned into a death hold before faltering, his body becoming stiff. He uttered this strangled sound as they locked eyelights, but Error’s were shivering, hazy with the absolute agony that gripped his system. He crumpled to the ground.

The pieces fell into place messily, but instantaneously for Dust who realized after a moment that he’d just shot Error. If only he’d just let go of it, why hadn’t he just let go? If only Dust had adjusted the fucking safety while the conversation had been going, just like common sense called for. It had to be this time he screwed up.

“No no, oh holy fuck–” he was down on the ground in an instant, hesitant to touch the other lest he do more harm than good.“D-don’t move, I’m calling for help.”

The pain was so utterly blinding that it debilitated him. Heaving, he gave up on sucking air back in through his lips when his ribcage refused to expand. Error squeezed his eye sockets shut, contemplating whether or not he’d dust right then. He wouldn’t doubt it if fate had such an end in store for him after the life he’d been leading. The visage of Dust’s panic swam in his blurred vision, and maybe Error would’ve felt an ounce of pity if he wasn’t in the worst pain of his entire life.

“Don’t, you can’t ca-all anyone here,” Error hissed, disregarding Dust’s attempt to ascertain he hadn’t killed him. Snagging his own weapon and backpack in a haggard motion, he shoved at Dust weakly, his anger petering out quickly into fear. “Report to Nightmare. Tell him it was a f-failed job. Fuck.” He tried to open his route through time and space, but his chest cavity felt like it was being flushed with shards of glass. Error barely dampened a wail, clamping a hand over his mouth while tears flooded his eye sockets.

“Error, oh shit–I’m not leaving you here like this.” Retrieving the other’s weapon, and compact tripod, he packed it into his bag. Then he caught Error, who was swaying from magic and blood loss. He was dying, he was certain. If there was a white hot skewer thrust through his soul, he was positive this sensation would be the equivalent. He whimpered as his vision swam, the increasing pain overwhelming all reason. He wanted Blue.

“They’re gonna get you to the ER. Hang on,” Dust’s voice was close to his skull, his humid breath ghosting against his bones. Error knew he was running through the hall and down the stairs they’d climbed to secure the optimal roost for the job. Error fisted his hands in Dust’s coat, smearing it a dark cobalt. He wheezed, so afraid that he wouldn’t be able to see his new lover again, that Cross would find a pile of dust and magic residue as the only remnants of his best pal. He didn’t want to die alone. “I-I–” he stuttered, voice far more frail than he’d ever heard it from his own mouth.

It was horrifying for Dust to see Error’s terror-stricken expression, so he just looked ahead where he saw bright flashing lights in the dawn of the morning.

“I’m so st-stupid,” Error whimpered, groaning as his diaphragm spasmed. Fighting through the pain, he reached inside his ribcage and found the source of leakage. He gripped and squeezed, attempting to stifle his life source leaving his form Error’s soul was a slippery mess of fluids that were meant to stay encapsulated in the protective, rubbery carapace. It was coagulating in some places, yet the ooze still managed to flow over his hand, drip dripping like a leaky faucet.

Being a pon of the moguls of this city had been his solution after he couldn’t manage to finish out his college education, the enticing idea of being paid handsomely too good to pass up. He had considered that he might pay the price of one of his employers catching him in his two-timing methods of racking up the bills, but no–it had been a genuine accident. He was too focused on things that didn’t matter, walking the line of stupidly confident and sloppy, and now he was paying for it. He couldn’t even muster shame as he felt hot tears trickle down his cheeks. He didn’t want to die. He bit back a scream. “I’m so scared,” he admitted.

“Here! Here! Hurry, dammit, he’s dying, h-he’s gonna die!” Crouching down, Dust tore open the dark shirt covering Error’s wound, knowing he wouldn’t like what he was about to find. Unwilling to relinquish the hold he had on the side of his lover’s soul that resembled splintered wood, Dust squinted into the blinding lights, terrified that Error was going to die here on the pavement.

They were quick to take him, a flurry of blue gloved hands stifling his bleeding and strapping him down to a gurney, packing him into the back of an ambulance before the doors were pulled shut. Then there was silence, save for the shrill retreat of the ambulance. Dust’s hands were coated in copious amounts of Error’s magic, the marrow creating a murky, fatal violet. He stood on unstable legs, unsure of who to go to first. He dialed the number of his boss, smearing the magic-blood concoction around the screen.

~

“Hey, Blue, what’s cookin’?”

“Have you seen Error? Is he with you?”

“Uh, no, why?” Cross asked, the sound of a television becoming quieter in the background. “Did you guys have a date today or somethin’?”

“Yeah, he was s’posed to be here at my place.”

“That’s not like Error…” Cross mumbled, the sound of him typing a text audible to Blue. “When’s the last time he responded to you?”

“Today he hasn’t. He spent the night at my place last night. He was gone before I woke up.”

“Cross?”

“Give me a few, I’m going to call a few of our work partners and see if they’re in a meeting with him. I’ll get back to you, aight?”Cross said, brows pinched as he received no response from Error.

“Okay,” Blue stated, skull pounding with a stress-induced headache.

“I’ll get back to you. Hold tight.”

~

Cross dropped everything. Dinner with Dream turned into Cross pacing the parking lot, frantically making phone calls.

Red clicked his tongue, clearing his throat after what was probably a draw of a cigar. Nearly every time Cross had seen him there’d been smoke rising from between his sharp teeth.

“S’not like Strings not ta answer his cell,” Red responded.

“So he hasn’t been with you at all today?” Cross asked, trying to sound slightly put together while concern accumulated in his soul.

“Nope, ain’t seen him today. I’ll shoot ya a call if he comes by, though. Hang in there.”

“Thanks.” Cross hung up, trying Nightmare instantly. Clenching and unclenching his fist, he fidgeted, thanking the stars when his call was answered.

“Ah, Cross. How are you?” Nightmare asked, voice smooth and unhurried.

“Honestly, I’m on edge at the moment. I haven’t been able to reach Error. Has he been with you at all today?”

“No. Did he fill you in on the job he carried out this morning?” Nightmare asked, voice level in contrast to Cross’.

Cross felt his insides twist. “No. He didn’t.”

“I’ll see what I can do for you. While it’s strange he is taking his time, there is a partner involved in this particular job who could have something to do with it.”

“I see,” Cross replied, the feeling of worry failing to recede. Thank you, Mr. Joku.”

“Of course. Take care.”

Cross pinched his nasal ridge, groaning in frustration. Error still hadn’t gotten back to him. He pocketed his phone, turned around and smacked right into Dream.

“Cross, what’s wrong?” His golden eyes were like honey in the light of the dimming afternoon. Too bad Cross couldn’t take the time to appreciate them. “How can I help?”

“Error never showed up for his date with Blue, he isn’t responding to me, h-he doesn’t just–” Cross swallowed roughly, his soul clenching painfully, “He doesn’t just disappear like this, Dream!”

“Okay, I can see you’re anxious and scared,” Dream said, caressing his forearms, placing his hands on Cross’ broad shoulders. “But I’m here, and I’m going to help you figure this out. Have you exhausted all of his contacts?”

“Y-yeah, he doesn’t have many–-other than myself, Blue, and his employers, but I called them, I already called,” Cross rambled, rib cage feeling too tight.

“Have you called any nearby hospitals?”Dream asked. Even though he knew it would probably panic his lover, it was realistic. If Error was really missing, it was the next option. Cross shook his head ‘no’. “Alright, well, that should be the next step. I’m right here, Cross.” He pressed a kiss to his forehead.

After some time calling, Cross received the confirmation he could go forever without hearing. Error was in the ICU, and had been since dawn broke. He was asking questions in a trembling voice, disbelief numbing the absolute panic that threatened to shatter his cool. As soon as the call ended, he phoned Blue to pass on the information. Dream was silent, but his presence was enough to help Cross keep himself together.

Dream pulled into the hospital parking lot where Cross’ best friend he’d ever had was critically injured. Blue arrived after him, eyelights wide, as he frantically searched for the right department. Upon seeing Cross and Dream, Blue approached quickly, not bothering to hide how upset he was.

“He’s somewhere b-back there. They haven’t told me anything,” Cross stated, fear gnawing at his soul. Blue wiped at the fresh tears bubbling up. Cross opened his arms, inviting Blue to step forward if he wanted close contact. He did. Blue launched himself at Cross, hiccuping and trying to tamp down the volume of his expression of stress and sadness. Dream pet Cross’ back, his own worry for the roommate of his lover amplifying now that they were in the hospital.

When someone came to get them, it wasn’t relief they felt. Dread and urgency was thick in the atmosphere, the staff rushing to and fro in the hallways providing another stressor to top off the awful situation. That was until they accessed the ICU, which was strangely quiet. Dream squeezed Cross’ hand. Blue took a deep breath, his eye sockets threatening to fill with more tears.

They explained that while he’d pulled through, his condition was fragile, and that he’d need magic transfusions to replenish the vital nutrients he’d lost after the incident. Upon entering the ICU suite, they found him, wires and fluid filled tubes weaving between his ribs, fused to the raw outlet where a chunk of soul was absent. It was a swollen, discolored, angry violet mass barely resembling the typical soul shape.

Cross was next to the bed, hands hovering over Error’s prone form. Looking at his closest companion, he felt his throat tighten. What if there hadn’t been experienced medical staff? Would he still be looking at a weakened, unconscious Error, or gripping dust laden sheets? Oh so gently, he touched his friend’s cranium, relief flooding over him as he felt the barest hint of warmth there. Error’s expression twitched as he subconsciously leaned into Cross’ palm. He sought out one of Error’s limp hands to hold.

Cross’ felt raw pain grip his soul. He choked, shaking his skull, grabbing his cranium with his free hand. Error didn’t sleep much, wouldn’t eat like he needed, but he always came back, because he was crafty, careful. The fact that Error wasn’t untouchable was a factor Cross had taken for granted. Why hadn’t he found Error? What was wrong with him? He was supposed to be there, dependable and supportive–not a ghost in his friend’s life when he needed him most.

Blue wanted to touch him. He wanted so badly to, but then again, he felt like an intruder. Cross’ concern was palpable. He was Error’s friend, best friend, and he was fiercely protective of him. Then again, he cared too. He had feelings for Error that weren’t fading, that had only grown stronger. He ventured to the other side of the bed, lacing his fingers with Error’s own before resting his forehead against their twined hands. He was never a religious monster, but he hoped that maybe some deity might hear his plea.

~

Days slipped past, turning into weeks, and while Cross visited as often as he could, Blue began to practically live out of the hospital room. He brought Under Novella DVDs from Error’s apartment, sliding them into the room’s system so that the series played out for the slowly healing skeleton. Blue wasn’t certain if he could hear his favorite series, but there was a hopeful part of him that wished that while he was under, he could see moving pictures behind his closed sockets. Error’s cell phone went off on the hour, the text tone and phone ringing giving Blue the reminder that there were others worried about him. He should let them know what had happened, yet the notion of opening Error’s phone felt invasive and wrong. He hesitated as long as he could, putting off answering a call or opening the screen until he was certain someone was worried sick over him.

“Hello?”

There was a pregnant pause before someone with a gravelly voice stated, “Yer not–who is this? Cross?”

Blue, startled, responded, “It doesn’t matter. Who am I speaking to?”

There was a grunt across the line before they uttered, “Heh, alright buddy. Put him on the phone.”

“No.”

“Why tha hell not? Quit wastin’ my time and tell me who th’ fuck I’m talkin’ ta,” the speaker growled, clearly not pleased with being declined. Blue clicked the ‘end call’ button. Immediately the phone began to ring again. With no small bit of hesitation, Blue answered, planning on not saying a thing this time.

“Ya little shit. Where’s Error?”

Blue took the phone away from the side of his skull, scowling at the screen as though he could see the other’s face. This character sounded like he’d rip a guy’s soul out and douse it in liquor before devouring it. The idea that he was eerily quiet now thoroughly unsettled him. His thumb found the ‘end call’ button once more before he turned off Error’s cell phone. Why’d Error have this guy calling him?

Blue made it a point to leave the hospital building more often. He could handle the ICU suite for long periods, but he still needed to feel the outdoors once in a while. He wanted to bottle some of the balmy weather and take it to Error in that sterile room. Maybe then he’d feel less guilty about leaving him for a break when his lover was limited to a bed.

Not only that, but Error was receiving texts and calls from individuals Blue had never seen contacting him. It was strange, especially since the angry fellow he’d encountered the other day had tried reaching out several more times. Blue was tempted to answer and pry, poke the dog with the stick and figure out why he was calling, but he doubted he would actually get anywhere with it. He’d ask Cross about it later on…

Blue was alerted to his phone vibrating against his hip. He pulled it out, greeted with a text message.

Cross: Error is awake. He’s asking for you.

Blue sprinted back to the hospital. He rushed through the hallways, showing his pass to the ICU entry officials. His soul thrumming in his ribcage, he entered the suite breathless, catching sight of Cross and a pair of eyelights he hadn’t seen in far too long. ‘Stars!’

“E-Error, oh my Gods,” he said, feeling as though he was imagining seeing him actually alert. Error gave a weak smile, reaching out to him. Blue didn’t hesitate, taking the offered hand and resting his forehead against Error’s own. He sniffled, tears staining his cheeks and plopping onto the white blankets around Error’s midriff. “I was so scared.”

“Me too,” Error admitted, reaching up with his other hand to rest on Blue’s skull where it connected to his cervical vertebrae. “I ha-ad dreams of you, but I couldn’t tell if they were real or just hallucinations from the drugs. You were almost always here. Were you here with me? I recall you talking to me, si-sitting here beside the bed, touching me.”

Pressing a kiss to Error’s face, he said, “I was here. Every moment I could be. I was convinced you’d be bored out of your mind,” he admitted, wiping at his face. His eye sockets felt puffy from weeping.

Error felt guilt overcome him looking into Blue’s face. His eyelights were so filled with adoration and Error had nothing to offer. No one would care that his life was nearly snuffed out. He was certain of it. “Are you bu-usy?”

“I’ve been waiting for you to wake up for weeks. I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me hanging out right here.”

”Hehheh,” Error chuckled, coughing as he used his creaky voice after being under for so long.

Blue hummed, pulling a chair up to Error’s bedside, a lopsided smile accenting his bright eyes. His voice sounded nasal with his subsiding tears. “You really don’t know how glad I am to hear your voice. All I’ve heard for days is Under Novella season one on repeat.”

“Under Novella? They get that here?” Error brow’s furrowed, and Blue’s heart leapt, the expression reminding him his lover was awake and speaking to him, not drugged to the max and floating through a comatose ether.

“No. They’re your copies. I couldn’t bring myself to watch further than we’ve seen together. It felt too much like cheating.”

Error laughed tiredly. When Error kissed him, he made up for weakness through unrushed, gentle affection. Cross had gone to make a few phone calls some ten minutes ago. Blue sucked on Error’s tongues, cradling the other’s jaw in his free hand. With only breaks to suck in a breath of air, the two leisurely explored one another’s mouths. Without knowing when it began, Error’s lower lip trembled. His breath caught and he choked on his overwhelming emotions. He finally let the emotional buildup of his near death experience overwhelm him, and Blue was there to wipe his tears away.

Chapter Text

Blue had committed the most terrible beneficial mistake of his relationship. While Error had been napping, Blue had taken advantage of his unlocked phone, tapping the messaging app. His curiosity had grown over time, and he couldn’t dissuade himself from looking into who had been constantly contacting Error. He started with the conversation with Mr. J. He scrolled back as far as possible, looking through invitations to events and meetings. Jealousy flared in his soul, a bitter, acrid sensation that left his sternum prickly with discontent. He took screenshots of sketchy material, sending them to himself before moving onto F.

This conversation had the back of his cervical vertebrae buzzing with envy. The initiator of the conversations checked in with Error frequently, asking about his progress pertaining to “projects” before asking frequently when he’d be over to chat. Blue frowned, scrolling through the messages while keenly aware of every minute shift of his healing lover who was snoring away. Rummaging through older and older content, his resentment for this ‘F’ grew. They must’ve been close to Error speaking to him like this, and while the conversations hinted at criminal activity (he knew, he just knew there was something going on here) he was more focused upon the fact that Error hadn’t ever mentioned them to him. He was hiding these contacts. Why?

Continuing on with snooping, he clicked on the one labeled Cross. Cross texted like a lover would, and it peeved an already ticked off Blue. Cross was so protective of Error his eyelights would find him no matter where they were. It made Blue question his intentions; just because he was with Dream didn’t mean he didn’t crave Error’s attention. What happened when Blue wasn’t around, he couldn’t know, and that had him stewing as even Cross was cued into these ‘assignments’ and ‘projects’.

Scowling as he read, he identified red flag after red flag the further back he perused. He’d been majorly blindsided. It seemed Error was up to some shady shit, and it appeared he had been for a while, too. Glancing over at Error, he closed the phone, slipping it under the other’s pillow after sending evidence to his own device and deleting all snapshots he’d taken from Error’s phone. Bitterness, grief, and betrayal clung to him as he retreated from the room. Blue drove away from the hospital and didn’t look back.

Error felt the loneliness acutely after Blue stopped coming to see him. He sensed something seriously amiss. He texted and called him, but there was no response. All that answered was his voicemail. A few tubes were removed from his soul, and Cross was there to offer a hand to squeeze the daylights out of while Error breathed in a measured, slow manner. When Cross offered careful hugs, and Dream came with chocolates and a sympathetic smile, Error accepted it with a heavy soul, thoughts weighed down by the idea that Blue wasn’t coming back. Dread filled his marred soul as he let the pair leave, knowing they both had plans and didn’t need to be his babysitter. Part of him wanted to beg them to stay.

He ignored it.

Dream insisted they stay the night in his room one evening, and while he pushed back, insisting they go enjoy their evening somewhere less depressing, Dream was steadfast in his conviction.

“You’re hurting and alone. We’re staying.” Dream pulled blankets over the stiff hospital furniture, fluffing a pillow while pointedly looking at Error. “Right, Cross?”

“Correcto. You can’t get rid of us, bud. We’re here to stay tonight.”

“Fine. Fi-ine,” Error huffed. “It’s your own damn fault if the monit-t-tors keep you up.”

By the end of the night, when the topic turned to Blue’s abandonment of him, Error was visibly run down. It didn’t take long for Dream to embrace him, the feeling of comfort all encompassing.

“I can’t change the fact that he left, but I can tell you that we won't. Remember we’re only one call away. Alright?”

Error nodded, trying to disguise his sniffle as a cough. “Thanks. One problem, though. I don-don’t have your number.”

Dream made sure to add his contact to Error’s phone before retiring for the night.

Error awoke to Cross’ confused exclamation as three hard knocks resounding from the suite door. Opening it, his friend was immediately on the defensive as law officials made themselves known. They made their way past him, approaching Error with expressions belying nothing.

“Uh…can I help you?” Error asked, wishing he had more to cover his exposed diaphragm and damaged soul. One of the officers pulled out a document, stepping closer (and Error wished he hadn’t, because he was feeling like a cornered animal right about now).

“Sir, you are under arrest on suspicion of homicide. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be held against you in the court of law. You have the right to an attorney–if you are unable to afford an attorney, one will be provided for you.”

“No, you’re mistaken. He’s been through a traumatic event, how the hell would he have been–” Cross was cut off by an accompanying officer.

“This is non-negotiable. Stand aside, sir.”

Cross snarled, “Fuck no. He’s not well enough to get out of bed, much less walk around. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Sir, we’re asking you to stand down. We’ll provide safe transport for your friend here, but there is nothing we can do about the arrest warrant.”

“Cross,” Error voiced, sounding just as panicked as he felt while he was being prepared by nurses to leave the bed he had been confined to. With tubes still jutting out of his soul, he was led into the restroom inside his quarters to retrieve clothing. His legs trembled, having not held his weight in over a month. Overwhelming fear gripped him.

Unwilling to accept that they were going to sweep his friend away so easily, Cross forced his way into the mass of strangers. “No, I’m coming along too, you’re taking me too, dammit. Let me fucking see him!”

Error was thankful for Cross linking arms with him, eye sockets narrowed. They didn’t even bother putting cuffs on him, considering he was so weak that walking was an arduous task. He was offered a wheelchair, and took it out of necessity.

“You’re alright. I’m here, we’re okay,” Cross said quietly, tersely, because he knew from the start that this was bad, but he wasn’t going to show it. Error nodded, because that’s all he could do. They were ushered into the back of a secure black van with blue and red lights already flashing. Dream decided to get the info from Cross on where to pick him up when things had calmed. It would’ve been fruitless trying to get between his lover and the chaos that had descended upon the hospital room. Cross was fiercely protective of his best friend, and hell, Dream understood.

Error was going to be sick.

“Look at me. I know this is fucked up, alright? Don’t give them the satisfaction, buddy. Just hold my hand.” Error did. All the way to the station, the hallways and past the doors of an ominous room. In front of him was a black, one way window. For Error, there was nothing to see. He was alone, since they kept Cross behind in the lobby, outside of the secure rooms. He remained seated, until he was ordered to stand through a speaker embedded in the walls. He felt like an animal at a zoo, keenly aware of his audience on the other side of that dark glass.

Meanwhile, his accuser assessed him on the other side, taking in his frail appearance.

“Are you certain this is the monster?” The police officer questioned, expression belying nothing of how he felt.

“I’m certain,” Blue replied.

~

They had a great attorney, Cross made sure of it. He and Dream’s relationship took a hit, since Cross’ sole focus became figuring out how to get Error out of incarceration. Dream still insisted on checking in on him, being someone he could depend on. Bringing Cross food or cooking for him while he was scrutinizing and taking notes on legal documents helped Dream to maintain peace of mind.

Dream was fuming when he’d heard that Blue had gone to the local investigative teams behind his back–not only that, but they’d sent officers who were completely out of line, creating a larger mess that he’d have to clean up in the end. Pushing buttered peppers and mushrooms around a skillet, he zoned out with the sizzle of fresh garlic and chives. “What the fuck have you done?” He growled at Blue, pulling him aside in the lobby of the detention center. It was an industrial design, no cozy accents in sight. Blue’s expression conveyed betrayal.

“I gathered evidence and reported suspicious activity. What do you mean what have I done?”

“They’ve written him off as a murderer. The perpetrator of multiple homicides, Blue. What did you tell them? Did you extrapolate, stretch the truth? Because without concrete evidence, they can’t legally hold him here. Talk."

“I gave them his phone records that could lead to a conviction. Of course they’re not certain yet, what are you coming after me for?! I did my fucking job,” Blue snarled.

“You were to report to me before taking further action,” Dream barked, eyelights flaring. “Your job isn’t to keep me in the dark, bypass my explicit instructions to inform me of suspicious activity, and get a potentially innocent monster incarcerated while he’s recovering from a near fatal injury!”

Blue was silent.

“He’s now in this damn place until we can figure out a way to proceed. I’ve got to tell Chief Ink that a potentially innocent monster with a disabling injury is in prison because you couldn’t wait. Fucking hell.”

“What do you want me to do?” Blue asked.

“I want you to use your skull. I want you to do your damn job right and I need you to stop talking to these morons until I get a go ahead from Ink to proceed further.”

Dream blinked, greeted with the sight of golden shallots and tender veggies. When Dream served Cross his freshly prepped dinner, he sighed, setting aside the document with red ink notes scribbled in the margins.

“Thanks, Dreamy. You’re fantastic,” he said tiredly. “I don’t deserve you. Shit.”

“Yes, you do. You deserve more than you know.” Dream pressed a kiss to his cervical vertebrae. “And you’re welcome. There’s more if you want it.”

~

Cross’ time was spent researching the laws they were up against and communicating with their attorney. Things weren’t looking good, and Cross was kicking himself. He wanted this to work out, he did, but it looked like this was beyond what he was going to be able to pull off, even with the attorney he hired. He loathed to admit that he needed further assistance. He needed to access it before things got ugly.

Red was working out deals concerning a new psychiatric medication when he received the call from Error’s partner. Putting the others on hold, he answered.

“Hey, how’s it goin’? How’s Error holdin’ up?”

“Fell, shit’s gone south. Error’s been incarcerated.”

Red coughed on his mouthful of whiskey, clearing his throat before barking out, “What? If das a joke, Cross, I swear you’ll regret it. I’ve already had enough trouble with the guy bein’ hospitalized.”

“I’m dead serious. I’ve exhausted all other avenues. We’re lawyered up, but it’s not cutting it, Fell. Just–” Cross could be heard sighing across the line, exhaustion evident in his tone. “I don’t fucking know if you can help, alright? But Error seemed to trust you enough to spend time around you outside of work. I don’t have anywhere else to turn.”

Red uttered a ‘shit’ under his breath, hanging up on his other calls to focus fully on Error’s partner. “I’ve gotta few ideas, but I don’ wanna get yer hopes up until I can assess whether or not they’re legitimate enough to fly.”

“If nothing goes through then he’s incarcerated for who knows how fucking long. Listen, you’re literally the last choice on my list, and if you don’t have anything to offer, let me know up front.”

“Well, ya called me, n’ I care about Error enough ta put my neck out on the line. Got it? I need ya ta bring everything ya got over here. We’ll look over th’ documents, go over what’s realistic and what’s a stretch. Boss can get some advice from his end an’ we’ll figure out the best plan of action.”

“Okay. Okay.” Cross sounded beat up. The line cut, and Red smashed his fist against the tabletop.

“Fuck!” He yelled out, claws pricking the polished wood surface as his fury culminated in his right eye socket. Boss, who’d been lingering in the doorway to the dining room, raised a brow at his brother’s outburst. His inclination to tell his older brother to control himself died on his tongue. He wanted information, not a fight with his sibling.

“The cops nabbed Error at the hospital. They’re holding him. Cross is comin’ by to discuss options.”

“Brother, I know you like this one, but the risk outweighs the reward.”

“No, he isn’t just “one of em’”. Don’t fuckin’ act like he’s just a number among the other employees,” Red growled. Boss rolled his eyelights.

“He’s an excellent hitman, I’ll give him that, but there are others, brother. Don’t be blinded by the one or two fucks you had with this monster.”

Wow. Real help yer bein', Boss. I’m not gonna leave Strings imprisoned. Ya can fuck off ta wherever ya were plannin’ ta go today. I don’ wanna see ya when yer offerin’ that sorta advice.”

“Red–” Boss began, softer than before, knowing full well that yelling wasn’t going to get either of them anywhere. His older brother snarled.

“Don’t Red me. Either yer in this or not. I’m not gonna watch him rot in a cell. I’m not backin’ down on this, this is my decision, and if ya don’t wanna partake, then get. Out.”

Boss stayed. He didn’t know why. Cross arrived and they went over options. Boss bickered with Red more, arguing the laws they could finagle and which laws were absolutely set in stone. Red was fiery, as much as Cross was adamant, and by the end of it, they poured themselves a drink and cooled off. It wasn’t going to be a clean plan, but Boss saw the potential, and if it got his brother to remove the stick from his ass and focus on his job, then so be it. He could pull a few strings, and so could Red.

~

Error was assigned to the prison’s medical wing until further notice. He had near round the clock medical checks, cleaning the tubes and checking his overall magic levels to make sure they were within a safe range. Aside from that, Error didn’t do much at all aside from sleep. His appetite was gone, and his resting habits had morphed from insomnia to sleeping far too much.

When he had issues with his magic, they’d adjust the tubes and feed magic into his soul. His magic started out balanced, but he wouldn’t eat, therefore his magic levels plummeted, and the cycle repeated. His tasks involved keeping his mind off of Blue abandoning him, pondering the fact that his soul was no longer self-sustaining, and asking himself what he was going to do in isolation for the rest of the foreseeable future. Sometimes there would be someone screaming, and Error would look around, trying to find the source. Often he wished he hadn’t looked into it. Not knowing was always better inside this place.

At some point, he was granted a medical ward buddy who had a mouth on him and a laugh that was as infectious as it was obnoxious. Error was tempted to throw something through the curtain dividing their spaces and see if that would shut the guy up; if only he had the energy.

This new neighbor made contact first. Error had refused to eat anything solid again, and he expressed his displeasure as he was hooked up to a machine that distributed magic into his soul manually. After the prison medical personnel cleared out, leaving him with one hand cuffed to the stiff board for a bed he was sitting in, the curtain divider rustled. Error quirked a brow.

In an instant, he was faced with a skeleton monster sporting an arm in a sling and wrapped in a hard cast up to the shoulder. His smile was unexpected, as was the fact that he had a complete absence of eyelights in his skull. Tarry liquid lazily dripped from his eye sockets, cloying and drying on his face. It was all a lot to take in, considering Error had been staring at the ceiling and the sterile white ceilings for weeks.

“Well, well, lookit you. You sure are quiet, ya know?” The stranger took a seat on a rolling chair, his free hand donning a cuff which should’ve been linked to something in his own space. “Didn’t even know you were over here until ya put up a fuss today.”

“Uh, yeah. Been here a few weeks before you arrived. I’d say wel-welcome, but it’s clearly not homey.” Error sat up straighter, acknowledging his only company for what felt like eons was probably about to be torn away at any second.

“Yeah, it’s not the worst I’ve seen, not the best either. Any who, you can call me Kills. What can I call ya neighbor?”

“Error.”

“Sheeh. That’s rough.”

Error snorted, too uncaring to be offended. He never claimed his name was a good one. “And your name isn’t the cre-cream of the crop, either.”

“Fair, man, fair,” Kills smirked, scooting back and forth on the wheeled chair. “Ya look like you went through hell before ya arrived here. Tch, I thought I had it bad.”

“You could say that again. Thing is, you do have it bad. I just got-got unlucky enough to be in the way of a bullet.” Error scowled, recalling the pain exploding inside of his ribcage. “Didn’t expect my morning coffee trip to be interrupted by my soul being t-torn through.”.

“Fuck. That’s awful.” Kills paused his incessant back and forth fidgeting. “At least ya get another day.”

“Sure. That,” Error muttered, tugging at the handcuffs linking one of his hands to the bars of the bed. “How’d you ge-get so lucky with the restraints? Why don’t you enlighten me?”

“Guess the bitch was in a hurry. She was in and out and forgot to lock me back to my “leash”. Heh. So Imma enjoy it while I can.”

“So you decided I’m that interesting to be was-wasting your time in here?” Error asked, raising a brow. Kills shrugged.

“Guess so. Hopefully they’ll fuck off for a while. I don’t like being alone much. I’m going to lose my mind, I swear…”

You’ll lose your mind?” Error’s chest ached as he chuckled dryly. “Dude. I’ve been counting the cracks in the cement for entertainment. It’s been excruciatingly dull.”

There was the sound of a heavy door opening, accompanied by the echo of footfalls as they neared. Error groaned.

“Well hey. Let’s make life a little less terrible, aight? You, me, we’ll talk. Fuck some shit up.” Kills grinned wickedly before stating, “But that’s my cue to get my ass back to my side. I’ll be seein’ you, Error.”

“Ditto,” Error said, closing his eyes as the door to his room was opened. At least he had something to look forward to now.

~

Life sucked a little less with the knowledge that there was someone else so close by who wasn’t a complete asshole–at least not to him, anyhow. Kills was a dick to the medical staff and had little to no filter to speak of. Error found out quickly what kinds of food his prison roomie enjoyed, so when he was offered them, he would accept it, only to save it for later.

The prison medical wing had become more lax regarding his and Kills’ restraints; Error was aware that there was surveillance, so if there really was a problem with Kills strolling about the room when he wasn’t cuffed, there surely would have been an intervention by now. Error’s cuffs remained off, seeing that he didn’t have the energy to pace or wander. He almost wished he could. It would be a welcome change.

When Kills wasn’t occupied, he joined Error. For the first time in a long time, Error had a real laugh, and it felt somewhat wrong, but also necessary. He needed a distraction from the fact that he was broken. Also, Kills was a monster bursting with dark humor. Kills made it a goal to break down barriers, clear the air of the stifling feeling of being literally confined, but sometimes, when Error clutched his chest, he worried.

He’d seen too many buddies die and this one was fragile. He was always aware when Error had bad, bad days. Sometimes, it made a difference just to sit there, on the end of the bed. At times, Kills thought about how things would go if his new pal died before retreating from that line of thinking. He focused on what he could control, like the hot cocoa packets Error liked to hoard. There was a routine that formed for the both of them, and it sure beat being alone. Kills might even call him a friend, but he was hesitant to come off as clingy and ruin the thing they had going.

Outside of the room, in the medical wing meeting and recreational center, they weren’t forced into only interacting with each other; naturally, Kills strayed a bit. Error enjoyed being able to watch people, in his own space, planted in a wheelchair. Unless the action came to him, he was content to be doing his own thing. It just so happened that today was one of those days when someone wanted to chat. The guy was human, white hair and brown eyes a sharp contrast to his creamy complexion. Tattoos covered both of his forearms, ascending up past his shorts sleeves. Both of his hands were bundled in thick bandages.

“Hey. It’s Error, right?”

“Ye-eah, that’s my name.”

“Nice ta meetcha. Listen, the medical staff needed me to come and get you. Something about tests.”

“Uh huh…” Error eyed the man, not familiar with too many humans. His skin looked so soft yet rough simultaneously. It was strange. “So where are we go-going?”

“I gotcha,” the man stated, grabbing the handles at the back of the wheelchair and pushing him away from the bustling recreation center. Error wasn’t too keen on not having a say in this, but he also knew that here he didn’t have a choice in many things.

His arms crossed over his sternum, he was wheeled through secure offices, into a dingier, darker area. Then the chair was abruptly stopped, and he was gracelessly shunted forward onto the floor like a bag of trash. He grunted, magic laced joints creaking with lack of use. The next moment he was lifted from the ground by his upper arms, the grip excruciatingly tight, and he was face to face with a monster sporting red-flecked skin and gleaming yellow eyes. Error narrowed his eye sockets, clenching his teeth at the burn in his bones as they creaked.

“Thanks, man. We’ll leave your payment in your room tonight,” the monster said, satisfaction evident in his deep voice.

The door they’d entered through was shut, and Error felt his soul shudder in fear. His skull snapped back as he was dealt an uppercut, and for a moment he lost his vision completely. His back hit the cold, unforgiving surface of a metallic surface, and his hands were bound. As the haze of his sight began to clear up, his hip exploded with pain. The inside portion of his pelvis radiated with the blunt force of the contact of whatever had been used on his bone. He gave up on breathing or struggling at all when the agonizing sensations only increased. Pain bloomed as a metal contraption bit into his already abused pelvis, and his mouth fell open in a shaky, silent scream. He was sucked into unconsciousness before his lower ribs became the source of interest.

Kills was aware he’d been bailed out–by who, he had no clue. He didn’t know anyone cared enough to do that. Then there was the fact that Error was missing from his bed. He’d been gone since free time, and it had Kills’ cervical vertebrae prickling with concern. 'What if he’d died? Would they even tell him?' Kills felt ill.

Error was only semi-aware as he was wheeled through the halls, his pelvis feeling like a hot nail was being driven into it. He realized they were going down a new path. This hallway had different tiles, the sounds of other prisoners nowhere to be heard. Squinting at the bright light, he recognized his cell mate’s silhouette waiting with a group of law officials.

Thank the Stars for Kills and–Red Fell?

What the hell was Red doing here? Error’s brows furrowed in confusion, his bones raw and aching. He wondered if he was dreaming until he was proven wrong by Red’s gruff voice.

“Now, boys, that’s the guy I’m lookin’ for. Ya got ‘em ready fer me?” Red’s smile was more of a snarl, his gold tooth a beacon in the fluorescent lights overhead. “I can handle them from here. Don’ think these fellas gonna pose any difficulty ta me on ma way out.”

“Mr. Fell, we’ll walk with you to your vehicle. It’s mandatory procedure.”

“Very well. Ain’t tryin’ to skip out on standard procedure. Be gentle on my wheelchair bound subject, ya hear? Tch.”

Error was in a daze as he was wheeled out to a large, black hummer. What in the fuck is going on? This was one of his bosses, and he was here, just taking him away from the prison? Getting into the backseat was arduous, and he couldn’t help but hiss as his pelvis shifted over the leather, the place that had been abused flaring in pain. He didn’t even fasten his seatbelt, unbelieving of the fact he was actually leaving the prison. When all of the doors were shut and locked, Red began to drive. Error looked at Kills, then at Red; he could see Red’s gaze focused on him in the middle mirror.

“Holy fuck man–your jaw and–what happened?” Kills hissed quietly, tempted to reach out before hesitating. He didn’t know where he was hurt, after all.

“They…took me,” he said, unhelpfully, but his tongues felt glued to his lower jaw.

“Who?” Kills asked, brows furrowed, not liking the thoughts that flooded his skull at that statement. He noticed the big guy up front glancing back at them. Kills scowled. “Where’d they take ya?”

Error opened his mouth to respond, before pausing. “I d-dunno. Maybe a fa-fa-facility closet?”

Red piped up. “Hey, Strings. I know yer not okay. Ya don’t hafta talk right now. We’re going back to mine. Just hold tight, alright you two?”

Error stared at him as though he was some twisted figment, before glancing back at Kills. Maybe he was dreaming; he could still be in that dark, musty closet area having his bones broken. Red drove, occasionally glancing back at his backseat guests, who looked tired and unwell. Parking the car in his garage, he opened the door to the backseat. Error blinked at him, opening his mouth before shutting it. Kills frowned, shaken at the state of his new friend. Red was certain Error would have sat there, frozen in time if Cross hadn’t entered the garage, calling out to him.

“Cro-oss?” Error whispered, sockets wide.

Cross was down the stairs in an instant, rushing towards the car and swooping into the back seat to hug his friend against himself. Error wrapped his arms around him, wincing as his injuries were aggravated. “Holy shit, I’m so glad to see you. I didn’t know if we’d be able to get you out, but you’re here, thank Stars, you’re here.”

“What’s go-oing on?” Error asked shakily, gripping Cross’ shirt. “Why did they just let us leave?”

“Red struck up a deal with law enforcement and the judge. I can explain it when we’ve got you settled. Come on,” Cross began to get out, towing Error with him before he gasped as his bones twinged sharply. “Shit, did I hurt you?”

“N-not your fault,” Error hissed and bit his tongue when the pain increased. Aided by Kills, he slid out of the backseat, then leaned heavily onto Cross, forced to acknowledge the results of his beating. He was guided inside and accepted Kills’ on his other side to ascend the flight of stairs, which he took extremely slowly. Everything was an ordeal thanks to the fuckers who thought busting his pubic symphysis was a bright idea.

When Cross ran the bath, he didn’t ask anymore questions. Error stripped off his loose garments, exposing the bruising and swollen welts forming on his dark bones. Kills had seen him changing before and he’d seen him stripped down to his boxers. Without any ecto formed, they all looked nearly the same. Crouching down into the basin of the tub, Error nearly sobbed at the excruciating sensation of applying weight onto his damaged crotch. Cross sat down next to the tub, expression conveying sympathy. Kills leaned against the wall, forehead creased.

“So they hurt you?” Red’s voice came from the doorway, a respectful distance from the tub. Error wouldn’t have cared if he walked right up and gawked at this point. There was nothing sexual about his deplorable state.

“Yeah.” He shivered as a chill ran up his back at the hot water lapping at his sore spine. “Hours before you arrived, a group of officers...ju-u-ust went to town. I think they broke my pelvis.”

“Shit bags,” Cross growled, turning off the water when it was past Error’s lower ribs. Error slouched down, immersing himself as fully as was safe with tubes still jutting out of his soul. The inside of his cranium felt like mush. He was pretty sure a few of his teeth were loose after that fist to the face. His lower jaw had clacked with his upper, rattling the magic equilibrium inside his skull.

“Shoulda kept their mitts off a ya,” Red said. “Fuck those assholes. I’ll make sure they’re dealt with.”

“What’re we doing here?” Error asked, eye sockets closed as he rested his skull against the edge of the bathtub.

“Was just about to ask the same thing,” Kills commented, taking in the sight of Red. He knew him by sight, but not personally. Some people he’d been involved with in the past were familiar with him, though. He knew Red Fell wasn’t someone to double cross if someone valued their life.

“I made a deal–essentially bailed ya out. Ya were a package deal, thas jus’ how it went. Ya both are legally under my jurisdiction. Instead of stayin’ in the medical bay at the prison, ya’ll be here.”

Error opened an eye. “So we’re not going back, is what I’m hear-hear-hearing?”

“Thas right. No more of that shithole.”

“Then what?” Error asked, the reality of his former life crumbling to pieces clearer now more than ever. 'Fuck Blue. Fuck him and the ones who beat him into unconsciousness. Fuck his pelvis which felt like a continuous flame was lapping at it.'

“We don’t know yet,” Cross supplied. “For now this is what we’ve got. You’ll be here and I’ll be close by working out the kinks in the process. The important thing is that you’re not behind bars.”

Error nodded, energy waning. “Y-yeah.”

“I’ve got rooms made up. Lemme know what I can do fer ya. Cross, feel free ta stick around tonight. We’ve got room ta spare.” Red turned and left, his footsteps audible as he retreated somewhere in the Fell manor. Error popped the drain with his toes and began to get up, cursing his assailants and everything they held dear. He held shockingly little animosity for Dust. When he thought of him, his skull felt prickly, like rough sweater fibers. While he put him in this mess, he also prevented his demise with quick thinking. While Error didn’t like the fact that he had taken his weapons, it was a logical move, considering that it would’ve been evidence to his crimes. Cross walked with him, helping him into bed like he was an elderly monster. Kills was pointed in the direction of his bedroom by Cross, who seemed relieved when the other’s door shut. Error didn’t mind one bit when his best friend slipped into the other side of the master bed with him.

“You’re safe now,” Cross said, his warm hand resting on Error’s shoulder blade. “I’m not going to let you go back, alright? I’ll do what I have to, just trust that I have your best interest in mind. Always.”

Error nodded, eyelights dimming in exhaustion. “I know. You’re tru-uly the best, Criss Cross.”

Forcing a smile, Cross turned off the bedside lamp before pulling out his phone to text Dream.

~

Dream sent a text to Cross, hoping it would garner a response. When there was radio silence, he sighed, pushing a file drawer shut with his foot. He pinched his nasal ridge cursing under his breath. Of course when he found a guy he really felt a connection with, there would be a clusterfuck like this to deal with. So far, they’d linked Error to being a possible suspect of multiple deaths, and hypothesized that his range wouldn’t have been limited to the perimeters of the city. Cross was ride or die for Error. Dream couldn’t blame him.

He should’ve been working with Blue since the investigation had been initiated, but in all honesty, at this point he’d rather strangle him. Everything was going swimmingly, his time with Cross giving him hope that he could treat him to sappy, coupley things, and get to know him better. Maybe more. Fuck, he was in deep with him, and the thought of losing him had him outright panicking.

Blue was also in a funk; he was nowhere near his usual, go-getter self. He’d been filing the documents and ample paperwork for Error’s case, since he’d been the one to initiate the arrest. A few times Dream had seen him with his head in his hands as he walked by his office. Dream had no consolation to offer, and he feared he’d only worsen the situation by acknowledging his depressed state. It was the risk of getting close to someone that he’d taken, and now he was paying the price.

Blue shut his binder, rubbing his eye sockets. He couldn’t unsee Error’s face when identifying him in front of the agent in the room. He had expected the fury he felt when discovering Error’s communication with outside people to persist, that everything falling into place would make it easier to hate him for lying by omission.

It hadn’t. Error still had all of those tubes and ports sticking out of his ribs, and he looked so betrayed, he was certain he would fold under those eyelights. He looked small. Frail. He didn’t look like a monster who murdered innocent people.

He hadn’t deleted the photos from his cell phone–the ones that he’d first been sent, when Error had begun to open up. He couldn’t help but look at them, and look for clues into Error’s job, but there were none. He sure had covered his tracks. He only assumed that it was a work related incident that almost killed him. Was it awful of him to wish he hadn’t reported him? He was sure Error would never want to see him again, and that fact was the most agonizing.

Chapter 5

Notes:

Non-con/Dub-con scene marked at the end of chapter ***

Chapter Text

Error felt out of control. Red’s home felt like a foreign space, and while he paced down long halls and turned the handles of countless doors, he didn’t know what to do with himself other than walk until he tired out. Cross had gone to retrieve his clothing along with other necessities from their once shared apartment. He was told that this wasn’t going to be his forever destination; Red had to take him to the lab, which was located underneath the Fell residence. Their abode felt labyrinthian, and he was convinced he could get lost if he wasn’t careful. Maybe Red or Boss would find his remains on a rainy day. Heh, he’d be the literal skeleton in their closet. Or a pile of dusty clothing…

Boss glowered at him when they’d crossed paths. Maybe he was paranoid about his intentions or didn’t see a point in keeping him around. He was dead weight, after all. Kills could earn his keep–his cast had been removed, and while Boss seemed to despise him, he could complete requests requiring physical activity. Aside from anxiously wandering the halls, Error listened for Red’s voice, trailing after the sound as it shifted from one section of the overly large home to the next. Keeping out of the way seemed like the best bet.

Red was observant and his scientific prowess wasn’t often acknowledged, as people saw his exterior, assuming he relied upon intimidation to get him where he was. Error was skittish, and even though Red didn’t want to let him in on the fact that he actually had to be doing things to him for him not to end up back in a prison cell, it had to be made known sooner than later. Knocking on the door to Error’s room, he received a glitchy ‘come in’. He entered, offering a tray of coffee and pancakes whipped up by Boss.

“Mornin’. How’d ya sleep, Strings?” Red greeted, taking a seat in the chair closest to his long term guest. Error shrugged.

“Not es-especially well. You?”

“Eh, I’ve been better. Boss made ya some hotcakes. They’re damn good.” He watched Error observe the breakfast as though it might come alive and latch onto his bones. He cleared his “throat”. “So, I’m gonna be real with ya right now, and I need ya to hear me out.”

Error stilled before uttering, “Okay. I’m listening.”

“This is all legitimate. I’ve signed documents under the law agreeing that my purpose for having ya here is fer house arrest. Kills, he’s got his cast off in a couple days, but you,” Red sighed, “Yer condition ain’t anything to scoff at, Strings.”

“Yeah. Tell me some-something I don’t know.” Error said.

“Hol’ up, I’m not finished.” Red held his hands up. “It was this or leave ya there, and Cross n’ I agreed ya weren’t stayin’ there. They fucked up by takin’ ya in without goin’ through standard procedures, accordin’ ta Dream. Hopefully that’ll be somethin’ we can expand on in court…”

Error frowned as an impending headache prickled at his cranium. His magic levels were emaciated. His habit of refusing meals had left him with no reserves, and nothing to ward off random aches and pains.

“By the way, if ya leave here, I don’ have control over what happens to ya, Strings. I’m deadly serious when I say don’t try anything stupid. S’pecially not in yer condition.”

With only boxer briefs and a blue wife beater tank top clinging to his bones, Error stared into his coffee cup. Luck would have it that his phalanges were useless, and the mug tumbled to the cream area rug at his feet. Error winced as the steaming liquid doused the probably very pricey home decor. Panic rang out like alarm bells in his skull.

Error was long gone, padding down the hall as quietly as he could, slipping past a clueless Kills in the process. Kills shrugged, entering his room with a stack of pancakes. Error was glad to have explored the halls and rooms, because he knew of a few optimal hiding places.

Accepting his pitiful cowardice, he slipped into a larger bedroom, squeezing his way past the numerous items cluttering a walk-in closet.

When Red found him, he was more sympathetic than angry. It wasn’t a huge deal–sure, Boss would be ticked about the rug, but it wasn’t as if it couldn’t be cleaned. He sighed. “Strings, I know yer in there. C’mon.” There was no response. “I’m comin’ in.”

“n-Nno, I-I’ll–”

“Ya’ll what? Drop another coffee on the carpet? Sorry sweetheart, I’m callin’ yer bluff.” There was a playful edge to his biting tone. “Ya chose an inconvenient place. S’pose ya did that purposefully. This was my old man’s suite.” Tucked far back was his ex-hitman, not showing any signs of moving from his crevice amongst Red’s deceased father’s belongings. “Guess I shoulda expected ya to be flighty.”

Red squeezed his way through suitcases and stacked memorabilia, reaching the tight area Error was wedged.

“Error, ya know yer safe here, right? I’m here ta keep ya outta prison and house ya. Cross was good to reach out ta me when he did. Ya’ve got a great friend in that guy.”

“I-I know. He’s the best,” Error acknowledged, wiping the sweat from his face with his shirt. “I know wha-at you’re doing. I appreciate it, but I’m a mess.”

“I don’t blame ya,” Red crouched down, sitting on a chest that hadn’t been opened since his dad passed.

“I’m sorry for up and leaving…and staining the rug.”

“Yer fine. Nothin’ a little dry cleanin’ can’t handle.”

“What do I need to do in return for-for you keeping me here?” Error asked. Red quirked a brow.

“What d’ya mean by that?”

“Red, you know. You bailed me and Kills out. Kills can pull his weight, but I–” his voice caught. “I’m fucked, is what I mean.”

Red chuckled dryly. “Strings, I don’ need a thing from ya. I did this. It was my choice.”

“Right, okay.” Error put his skull in his hands. “Just...why?”

“My prerogative is ya. We’ll get through this together. Not sayin’ it’s gonna be simple. I’m not gonna keep shit from ya. Anything happens, ‘n you’ll be the first ta know. Alright?” Red asked, fiddling with the loosest of the rings adorning his knuckles. Error nodded, keeping his head bowed.

“A caseworker will be in once per month ta check in. If ya follow my lead, ya’ll be in good hands. Wish ya didn’t have ta deal with this, but hey, we work with the cards we’re dealt, don’t we?” Red stood up, offering Error a hand. “C’mon. Let’s getcha a new cup of coffee.”

~

Error fell into a pattern of waking up to have breakfast with Red. Well, more like Red approached him with a plate of food enough times that Error conceded eventually. Sometimes Cross would join when he wasn’t occupied with work, while Kills was happy to plop himself down in the vicinity wherever he could.

Red had taken Cross under his wing as soon as Error was unable to be involved in their two-man show. Cross was grateful, since it distracted him from his best friend’s situation and assured him he was still making money. He communicated with Mr. Joku, letting him know the unfortunate circumstances, leaving out the fact that Error was being held in secure confinement in the Fell brothers’ home.

Boss still avoided Error as much as he could, preferring to be out of the way of the monster who caused such a disturbance in their lives. If he was a passion project for Red, so be it, but he was hands off when it came to organizing the visitations and security assessments. As much as he despised having their former hitman integrated into their home, it did occupy his fractious brother, which left him more leeway for his own agenda. Now Kills…there was a guy who rubbed him the wrong way. Boss felt especially strongly regarding the eyeless, crass convict.

Red took the initiative to care for Error in small, unobtrusive ways. He recognized depression seeping in, and if anyone knew how fucking awful it was to be depressed, it was him. He set clothes out for Error, set breakfast outside of his door when he overslept, and left notes on his door, detailing the week’s events so there wouldn’t be any surprises. When the first day in the lab approached, he discussed it in detail with him so that there was an understanding between the both of them.

Error entered the looming space with apprehension. It was more organized than he’d expected from Red, but there was still an element of chaos to the rooms. As they had discussed, he took a seat on the examination table, and he allowed for Red to inspect his soul. Dressed in goggles, gloves, and donning a particularly strong light on his forehead, Red looked comical compared to his normally dark, grungy chic attire. Error might have found it funny if he wasn’t having any extremely intimate part of him inspected closely.

“I’m gonna sanitize the external tube ports and just shy of yer soul. I wanna give ya a stronger magic transfusion like I mentioned, too. It’ll help with yer tiredness. Capiche?”

“Full spe-eed ahead.” Error shifted, leaning back so that he could stare up at the chasm of darkness above. The underground laboratory had its perks. He could get lost in thought as Red poked around in his ribcage, pretending he was directing his life once more unhindered. He let out a sigh, willing himself to calm down.

Receiving magic took time. Red in this environment was far different than the loud, confrontational boss he was used to. This Red eyed measurements, taking time to administer perfect amounts of serum before taking notes and moving onto the next step in the process. He was completely focused on the task at hand, sorting through the tubes until he found the one to concentrate magic and siphon it into Error’s soul. Tugging on the core of his being was strange; he held his breath when it became intense, thinking about how his soul would function later on. It didn’t hurt as often as it used to. Maybe Red was the miracle worker who’d coax his soul back into functioning. He doubted it, but the idea was pleasant.

He scrunched up his brows as cool fluid pooled under his sternum. It felt slightly itchy, the constant flow just enough to apply pressure to the inner portions of his soul.

“Does it hurt?” Red asked, ready to jump into action if need be.

“No...not exactly.” Error furrowed his brows. “It’s uncomfortable, but bearable.”

“Fair. Is there anything I can do ta help?”

Error grunted. “You could-d sit with me, if you-you’re not busy. Company is nice.”

“Can do.” Red pulled up a swivel chair, taking a seat. Scribbling down a few more notes, he tucked the pen into his coat pocket. “Yer doin’ great. Seriously. Fuckin’ awesome patient. Got em’ all beat as far as I’m concerned.”

“Glad you think so, Red.”

“Ya remember the caseworker is comin’, right?” Red asked. Error nodded.

“Yeah, you detailed it in the schedule. Two days away.”

“Correct. So, ya’ve received some enriched magic. Stronger vitamin and nutrition levels than yer used to. You make sure ta let me know if ya feel any side effects, Strings. It’s important,” Red pointed out, clicking his pen as he added something to his page of chicken scratch.

“You’ll hear it if I feel like shit, yes,” Error responded. “I’m not exactly shy about-t making my pain known.”

“Fair enough. Just makin’ sure we’re on the same page.”

Error nodded, letting his eye sockets fall closed. Red knew he had short endurance and was plagued with lethargy after the incident. He wouldn’t mind him drifting off.

The caseworker coming to visit was no surprise, but Error’s soul was tight with apprehension. He was feeling more awake after the infusion, and Red had evidence that he’d begun to proceed with his outline plans. Red awaited their arrival as well, a little more nervous than he’d conveyed to Error. He figured frightening him more than necessary would only prove problematic. It was for the best that he remained calm. The doorbell drew him out of his thoughts, alerting him to the arrival of the caseworker.

Blue straightened his sweater, shifting the briefcase on his shoulder. His soul tremored with restrained anticipation. He was about to see Error again, after what felt like ages. Error, who he turned into law enforcement himself. The door opened to a skeleton taller and bulkier than himself. He looked like he had no tolerance for stupidity.

“Come on in.”

Blue obliged. Stepping in, he already had the words ready on his tongue. “Hello, my name is Mr. Swap. I’ll be meeting with you and your subject one on one. All I’ll be doing with Error is a wellness check and asking him questions. As for us, we’ll discuss your plans for the upcoming month.”

“Alright, sounds fine n’ dandy. Do ya need a drink? I’ve got water, espresso, soda...” he trailed off, gauging the other’s reaction. Blue shook his head.

“I have a coffee in my car, thanks. I appreciate the offer, Mr. Fell,” Blue stated, shrugging out of his jacket. “Now then, mind leading the way?”

Red guided him down to his lab, pointing to the door. Blue took the initiative to head down the rest of the way, relieved that the other monster respected the one-on-one order. He didn’t exactly know whether that would be easily established. Opening the creaking metal door, he entered, blinking at the overhead hanging lights. Error was there, seated on an examination table with crochet hooks in his hands. He’d made progress, considering the material was draped off of the table. Approaching as though he wasn’t about to cause a stir, Blue watched as Error’s skull snapped up, eyelights meeting his as he dropped his project. Stunned wasn’t befitting of what he was feeling. His soul stung and it wasn’t from the magic being fed into it through one of the ports.

“WhA-wha-at are you doing here?” He asked. Blue pulled the swivel chair up and sat. Error was frozen in place.

“I’m your designated caseworker,” he stated, as though Error should’ve expected him. “It’s awful I wasn’t able to be around earlier. They didn’t exactly let me have contact with you,” Blue explained. “You have to understand how shocking it was to be told that you were incarcerated. It was devastating, actually.” He gripped the clipboard in his hands until it creaked.

“Sho-shocking? I could s-say the same for you. If you’re talking about honesty, you’ve done a shit job at being transparent,” Error snapped, unimpressed at his appearance now. “Do you make a habit of just disappearing when it’s most convenient? What’s going on?”

Blue sighed, pulling out a pen. “Although I admit I could’ve been more straightforward, I haven’t been the one keeping secrets. There are distinct differences here. Also, it’s our meeting day–weren’t you aware you needed to be monitored?”

“Really? Distinct differences? How’d you know if I’d be-een keeping secrets?” Error bared his teeth. “This is coming from the guy who apparently works as a caseworker. Alright, journalist. Tsk.”

“It’s not the same,” Blue stated. Error leaned forward, entering Blue’s personal space.

“I haven’t been convicted-ed. This is just bail with swanky house arrest,” Error corrected through clenched teeth. “Quit p-picking and choosing what to answer. Where’d you go?”

“Hmm. Work called, unfortunately.”

“Yeah, I be-et it did. You couldn’t let me know? You had to ghost me completely?” Error snarled. “Heh. How mature. I thought bet-better of you.”

“I expected better of you as well, Error,” Blue responded. “So it seems we’re on the same page. How about we discuss some things?”

“Tch. What’s to di-discuss? Thought that’s what we were doing here,” Error snapped. “Nothing’s changed. I’m still attached to tubes. Nothing you haven’t se-een before.” He went to cross his arms, only to drop them when he rustled the tube feeding into his soul. He didn’t like moving them more than necessary. They were already tender with regular maintenance and magic transfer.

“Let me rephrase that: how are you feeling since you’ve arrived here at the Fell home?” Blue asked, expression neutral. Error grimaced, the temptation to flip him off hard to resist.

“Well, considering Red Fell hasn’t beaten the shit out of me or fed me lies reg-regarding my wellbeing, it’s been pretty swe-ell.”

“What?” Blue asked, face contorting into a scowl. “When were you beaten?” Error chuckled humorlessly.

“Oh, you didn’t know? Before landing here, I had a rendezvous with prison officials. Ever been the pin cushion for really fucking pissed monsters and humans?” Error pinched the bridge of his nose, phantom pains emanating from his pelvis. Red had helped him with his wounds from the beat down in the prison. He didn’t like being reminded about it. “Anyway, not important. Next question.”

I care–it is important. I'm obligated to report it.”

“Fuck your feelings and your obligation, ” Error growled, cutting him off. “Here’s a news flash–I don’t care. I don’t recall any of them anyhow. Next. Question.”

Blue scowled, hastily scribbling down a note. “Think about it then. If not for yourself then for others being processed at the prison.” Blue noticed Error’s scathing eyelights. The personality Blue had unpacked with the other was sealed up tight, the nights they’d spent tangled in each other’s arms suppressed in lieu of blocking him out. It was impersonal and clinical. Blue hated it.

“What are you able to do with your magic currently?” Blue questioned. Immediately he recognized he hit a sore spot as Error winced.

“Nothing,” Error muttered.

“What was that? I didn’t hear you,” Blue remarked. Error’s open hand landed on the metal of the examination table with a resonating ‘clang’.

“I sAid nothing,” he snapped. Bitterness filling his mind and soul, he disconnected the nozzle from his tube, snagging sanitary wipes and cleaning solution. He was finished. Fuck Blue, he could get the rest from Red. “Find your way out. As far as I-I’m concerned, we’re through.”

“Error, wait.” Blue’s voice fell flat as the other ignored him over cleaning the equipment sprouting from his soul like roots from a dying tree. He grunted as he flushed the port with water, then tending to the actual carapace of his soul. He didn’t even glance back. “We’re not finished. There’s still more to cover.” ‘Don’t you dare turn away from me.’

“Blue, if you think I’d like to spend a m-moment more with you after all of this, you’re sorely mistaken. What the fuck did you think? You can ask aw-away but shit,” Error tossed the non-sterile items into a steaming, sterile device, “I don’t owe you a thing.” You never came back. You didn’t care enough. Where the fuck were you?

“I know you must be feeling a sense of betrayal, but–”

Error was flabbergasted and irate. “You don’t know half of it!” Error shouted, whirling around to face him.

Blue walked over, closing the distance between them.

“Maybe not.” Blue said. He observed Error’s hands shaking as he used medical tape to secure the tubing to his sternum so it didn’t get in the way. Error’s hiss drew his attention back to his face. He flushed the tube once more, before inserting the last of the solution of magic and capping it off. “You know, I didn’t want to.”

“Didn’t want to whaT-t?”

“We both know you did what you’ve been convicted for,” Blue said, expression unreadable. “I wish it wasn’t true. Fuck, Error, do you know what you did to me? You made me choose–that’s not fair!”

Error just stared at him. Seeing that edge, that lick of anger he’d experienced in only scenes of play now directed at him in earnest chilled him to the core.

“I think you were addicted to the rush, the feeling of life giving way beneath your hands. Do you think I’m completely blind, Error?” Blue pinned him with an icy glare. “You had a lot of calls and texts while you were in the ICU. For not having a lot of friends, you’re rather popular. Seems like your employers miss their executioner.”

Error leveled him with a glare and simply said, “Go eat shit.” He hastily retreated, opening the door to the stairwell and disappeared behind it. Blue was left in the silence of the laboratory, albeit for the timed, mechanical sounds of Fell’s equipment. He packed up and prepared to talk things over with the guy.

Fell was seated at his table drinking a steaming mug of coffee and reading city developments on a tablet. After Error had stormed past absolutely fuming, he made his own conclusions about how the first meeting with his caseworker had gone. When he saw Mr. Swap, he patted the seat adjacent to him, minimizing his tab and sighing. “So, how’d it go? Anythin’ I need ta be made aware of?”

“Nothing extraordinary. Clarified a few questions I had concerning his health. He was hesitant to go into detail,” Blue remarked, readying his pen once more.

“The doctor's order was ta keep the tubes in fer now. He doesn’t generate ‘nough magic on his own, so this is how things are gonna be. He was roughed up before he arrived here. Love to know who pulled that shit,” he growled.

“I’m planning on filing a formal report. Since I didn’t receive the list of injuries from him, do you recall his condition upon arrival?” Blue asked.

“Yeah. Nasty break in his pelvis, cracked jaw, both upper and lower spine swollen, and one of his hips was dislodged. It was obvious his hip was outta joint. That wasn’t too bad ta heal, but the fact that he was thrown ta the wolves when he was s’posed ta be strictly housed in the medical wing pisses me the fuck off,” Red snarled. Blue nodded.

“Understandable. It’s horrible and never should've happened.” Blue set his notes down, steepling his digits. “A doctor needs to come in and check his wounds. I have a reference right here.”

“And I have a doc already on call. Don’ worry about it, Mr. Swap,” Red reassured. “He’s farin’ better than a lot of monsters would with a hunk of his soul missin’. Don’t think he’s got any pretenses about the complications that can happen if he’s not careful.”

“Alright then. Don’t hesitate in the meantime to reach out if there’s any changes.” Blue picked up his items, heading out of the Fells’ residence. He’d never wanted to follow someone so badly, but he itched to confront Error once more, to ask him why the hell he thought any of what he’d said validated the fact that he made him feel this way. He didn’t want to have feelings for a killer (but he did) and he definitely didn’t want to sympathize with him when he was supposed to be purely clinical.

The formal report was received. Whether or not a formal investigation would be instigated was out of his hands. He had no idle moment, organizing everything in Error’s profile down to his height, weight, and current magic levels. Mr. Fell sent him a copy of the vitals after the doctor looked Error over and Blue entered them into the database. When he asked how Error was helped with his magic transfusions, Fell sent him a rundown. Blue had ties to Error even when he wasn’t checking in on him in the once a month visitation, where he gathered as much information from the both of them as possible.

Error was adamant in making his job as difficult as possible, offering him silence or an obvious statement that gave him no insight whatsoever. He was being given the cold shoulder and it wasn’t about to end anytime soon. He dealt with it, looking to Mr. Fell for answers when Error leveled him with a silent, tired glare.

On the fifth visitation, Blue sat down on the familiar swivel chair and scooted up to the examination table where Error didn’t even bother looking at him. He was more interested in losing himself in the abyss of the ceiling, swallowing up the light like a cavernous maw. Laying back on the table, blanket draped over his lower body, he was tempted to drift off to sleep. He would’ve too if the hindrance wasn’t staring at him.

“On a scale from one to ten, how would you rate your pain today?” Silence. Alright, skip. “Have you received any news on your condition?” Blue already knew what news he’d gotten. They were going to remove two of the tubes and leave him with one. Anything that would prompt Error to talk was game at this point. “I’m curious.”

“I bet you a-are.”

'Score.' Blue’s eyelights subconsciously shifted into stars and Error was tempted to punch him for hurting him like that. His stupid eyelights weren’t supposed to remind him of life before this shitshow happened. He turned his skull away from his caseworker, sullen.

“Can you tell me about it?” Blue pressed, pleased at the little bit of engagement. For the longest moment, Error remained silent. Then he began, his voice glitching something fierce.

“They’re going to remove two of the tubes a-and assess the damage.” He frowned, feeling absolutely inadequate. He was a caged animal without the majority of his magic. “No one wants to donate magic to a potential convict. So I dunno what the o-o-odds are.”

Blue knew it was true. They’d rather have a weak prisoner than one they’d have to worry themselves over constantly. He left Error to his devices, brushing his phalanges over Error’s forearm as he reached for his tablet. Blue’s soul thrummed faster when Error sucked in a breath, before composing himself, muttering under his breath about ‘personal space’.

~

Cross stopped in as often as possible, usually toting some chocolatey coffee concoction. Error was always relieved to see his best pal. Cross tried to ignore how slight of frame Error felt when he hugged him. It hurt his soul knowing he wasn’t getting out, couldn’t have the freedom he used to, and doubted he ever would again. Regardless, the fact he could still see his friend was a positive.

With a heaviness he couldn’t shake, he ventured, “Hey, Error.”

“Hey wh-what?”

“I, uh, I’ve been thinking.”

“Really?” Error queried. Cross would’ve punched him playfully in the shoulder in the past. He wouldn’t dare now. Instead he flicked him playfully on the forehead.

“Yes, you asshole.” He chuckled. “I could be there for you a-as more than what I am now,” he stated, his voice belying his nervousness. “I-I could...would you–” he swallowed, throat feeling thick. “Would you want more out of our relationship?”

“How so? I mean, your wi-ith Dream, seeing someone is a big commitment.” Error’s brows pinched, before he clicked his tongue. “You’re not seriously considering what I think you are?”

“I am, though,” Cross said. “I just–I didn’t want to overstep boundaries in the past, and so you weren’t on my radar.” Cross’ face was purple and he appeared absolutely indignant. Error rolled his eyelights.

“Pfft. Dude, you’re making me sound like a rogue satellite. Haven’t you considered that maybe you’re not really attracted to me? Don’t go pushing this friendship to its limits to satisfy your savior complex, dude. I’m doing fine.”

Cross’ posture stiffened, and his brows furrowed. “Error, no. No. How are you fine?”

“Well, I’m alive f-for one.”

“That doesn’t fucking mean you’re okay,” Cross growled, throwing, his hands up, sadness and annoyance with the situation cracking his joking demeanor. “I could be consistent and dependable–”

“Cross, you know me be-better than anyone. Doesn’t mean you have to be intimate with me. Stop it. Don’t make things overly complicated. I like you just the way you are. This thing we have, this friendship, it’s great. It’s the best. Don’t spoil this.”

Cross looked at him with a distressed expression but conceded. He felt like he could solve things if he was paired with his friend, but it was unrealistic and unfair to Error now that he thought about it.

“You’re right. Fuck, you’re right. I’m being a dick,” Cross muttered.

“You can be a dick, yes,” Error agreed, taking his friend’s hand. Cross’ hand was pleasantly warm against his chronically chilled bones. His digits were always icy. Low magic was a pain in the ass. “But you’re the best fucking friend I’ve eve-er-er had. I wouldn’t trade you for anything, Crossy.”

Cross squeezed Error’s hand. “I miss you. It’s awful not having you in the apartment. Seriously, it’s downright depressing.” His eye sockets were wet, as he chuckled sadly. “Sometimes I can’t sleep because you’re not making a racket like ya used to. Isn’t it ironic?”

Error sighed. “I miss you, too. I wish it didn’t have to b-be this way. If only I hadn’t gotten sloppy.”

“Not your fault,” Cross said, accepting Error’s hug when he was pulled into it. A few rooms over, Fell was yelling about how a payment was late and how he was going to ‘wring the guy’s neck the next time he came crawling back’. Kills’ laughter echoed in the corridor. He was probably watching one of his dumb stunt shows again. “It was the both of us. We weren’t careful enough. I should’ve been there, and I’m gonna make it up to you somehow.”

“H-how could you have been there? I didn’t brief you on anything.” Error was slouched against his friend, listening to the thrum of his soul through his sternum. “By the way, don’t you da-are proposition me again, moron. I know you’re into Dream. He’d be crushed if you dr-dragged me into your business.”

“You’re irreplaceable,” Cross stated so seriously that Error felt a chill travel down his spine. It felt like icy electricity tangling with his weakened veins of magic.

“So are you. A-and your happiness matters.” Error squeezed his friend, hoping he felt the intent. Love/care/protectiveness/warmth.

Cross sniffled, drawing Error’s attention. He frowned as tears plunked against his bones, Cross’ diaphragm hitching as he hiccupped. Cross didn’t cry often. This was a rare moment that carved a crater in Error’s psyche, providing fuel for his thoughts when he was alone at night. Error rubbed Cross’ back and accepted that they’d be here for a while.

He’d give his companion as long as he needed.

~

The monotony of Error’s new life had officially dragged him down into a depression. Whoop de doo, congratulations former contract killer, your life is boring as hell and you can’t even shove your hand down your pants to relieve tension. Why? Oh yeah, because his magic was so weak that he couldn’t achieve orgasm if he held his breath and concentrated on keeping his ecto summoned. Not to mention Red had found him in a sorry state last time, dehydrated. Red had given him a tongue lashing–and not the good kind.

Error tugged a thick, wintry robe over his scantily clad bones, slid his feet into warm, knee high socks, and marched through the hallways, glancing around for any sight of Red. There was a chance he was out on business, or occupied with a meeting, but there was also a chance he was just somewhere Error hadn’t looked in this huge home. A few servants watched him closely, as if he hadn’t been there for over half a year. He passed a room where Boss and company of his were chatting, their enthusiastic prattle echoing off the walls. While Error wished to pad past his room unseen and unheard, luck was not in his favor. Boss shot him a glare, before his expression shifted into one of intrigue.

“If you wanted to be tonight’s entertainment you should have simply said so,” he stated as Error passed by, halting him in his tracks. Boss’ approaching footfalls sent chills up his spine. He picked up his pace, running down the stretch of hall on his slippery-socked feet, skidding as he turned the corner of the main hall. He looked over his shoulder, before colliding with something sturdy. ‘Fuck!’ He fell on his ass hard, an amalgamation of disorientation, an aching sternum and loosened robe.

“Error? What the hell are ya doin’?” Red asked. Error pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eye sockets closed. Everything needed to stop moving. “What the Stars are ya runnin’ from in th’ house?”

He got his answer as Boss appeared at the junction between the two halls, a cutting scowl plastered on his skull. “What did I say about keeping your pet on a leash, brother?”

“Fuck off with that bullshit. Ya know how fragile his health is. Stars, what is yer problem, Boss?” Red growled, helping Error to his unsteady feet. Red didn’t expect to see a silky gown that barely graced the other’s pelvic cradle. Pastel peach, and flecked with bright orange, shimmering pieces, the lingerie left little to the imagination. Red was enthralled.

“You, your idiocy, and this moron you are housing, are my problem. Keep that stray out of my sight or you might find the it missing,” he spat, and turned on his heel. Fuming at the thought of his sibling, he turned his attention to Error.

“Y'alright, Strings?” He asked. Error nodded, releasing a shaky breath. “How ‘bout ya come sit down? Just hang out fer a little bit? Sound good to ya?”

It did. They made their way to a large master bedroom that Red tended to spend time in when he wasn’t busy. Red cleared his throat. “So, uh, what’s with the getup? Isit a special occasion or somethin’?”

Recalling his scandy attire, Error shook his skull. “No special occasion,” Error remarked. He traced the rings on Red’s claws, contemplating how he could ask politely to be screwed senseless. A crimson eyelight followed the movement intently, before flicking up to Error’s face. Red was wondering if he’d fallen asleep and was experiencing a strange fever dream. “Ju-ust wanted some company.”

“Company, huh?” Red’s voice was a deep rumble, and Error felt it in his core.

“Mhm.” Error peered up to see the other looking at him with appreciation.

“Well, ya got it, sweetheart.”

Error hummed in approval, moving languidly into Red’s solid lap. Taking the large hands and placing them on his ribcage, Error pressed his sternum into Red’s touch. “If this is t-too much, let me know, and I’ll leave. We don’t have to acknowledge this ever happened–”

“No,” Red insisted, hands caressing the soft, shimmering material of the slip. Error’s sigh was breathy and sweet. Red was surprised he’d lasted so long without being able to summon properly. That wouldn’t be too much of a problem here, though. He wasn’t opposed to sharing a little magic. Error would look pretty in purple. “I know whatcha need. Ya’ve been so patient, haven’t ya? Heh, yer in luck, cause fer you, I’m a gracious host.” Pulling magic from his own soul in tethers with his ringed fingers, Red pushed the excess into Error’s, satisfaction increasing as the other drank it up readily. Error whimpered, gripping Red’s shoulders tightly as a rush of energy fluctuated within him. “That’s it. Lemme see ya now, sweetheart.” Error’s ecto summoned shakily, before snapping into existence. His body filled in under his ribs, cascading down into a pleasurable burn between his legs, right above Red’s own growing arousal.

Feeling bold, Error formed full breasts, letting the ecto spread until he was far squishier around his hips. He felt sexy for once, and Red cemented that feeling as he cupped his soft breasts reverently, squeezing them individually while another hand worked below, sinking digits into the tight entrance between his thighs.

He couldn’t bounce on Red’s lap like he wanted to, or even maintain a sexy grind for that matter–Error was running on low magic, and his condition dictated his limitations. Red worked with it though. He lifted Error’s hips before thrusting into him as he pulled his pelvis back down, the effect deep and exactly what he needed. Error tried to stifle his cries at first before Red purposefully caught him off guard, angling Error’s pelvis so that he struck gold, causing unintentional shrieks and moans to fill the air.

“Ya gonna cum fer me, baby doll?” Red purred, thrusting up and grinding deeper into Error’s pussy, nudging the back of the sweet, silky passage that insisted upon squeezing him relentlessly. “Cause I wanna see ya come undone. I wan’ you to flood my bones, Strings.”

“Pa-please I wan’ it deeper, REd-”

“Ya’ll have it deeper,” he grunted, stuffing his cock into him with rough movements, holding Error’s pelvis flush to his own. Error clenched down hard around him, twitching through a powerful orgasm that had him singing Red’s praises. “That’s it, Strings, that’s it, oh fuck,” he encouraged huskily, focusing on that throbbing rhythm around his dick and the way Error was mouthing his neck as he continued to whimper. Whatever he was doing with that mouth was making him see stars, the suction just bordering on painful, especially as Error used teeth–he liked that a lot. “Keep that up, ohhh, that’s nice. Mhm, yeah, can I turn ya over? Not too sensitive are ya?”

“Not too sens-sensitive,” Error responded, following Red’s motion and letting his front rest on the plush gathering of pillows while his ass remained propped up, his legs splayed for the other’s viewing pleasure. Reaching between his thighs, he grazed his swollen clit, working down towards his soaked entrance. He met the prodding head of Red’s thick cock, and groaned, taking the length in hand and pressing it to his hole. “You wanna use me, Red? Ca-cause I’m yours to fuck up.” He flashed a quick, horny grin and wiggled his hips enticingly. He could use another orgasm before the day was through.

His, huh? Red caressed Error’s backside adoringly before giving it a smack. “All mine? Ya tryin’ ta bargain fer somethin’, babe?”

“All I’m barg-argaining for is your cock splitting me so wide I won’t be able to feel my l-low-lower half.”

Red chuckled, hilting his shaft to the root again, and Error buried his face in the pillow he was hugging. Watching his dick slip in and out of Error’s pussy, Red felt himself edging towards orgasm, his thrusts becoming rougher. Error’s body was trembling in his grip as his claws dug into his ecto, his hands leaving marks as he lifted his backend to fuck at a deeper angle. Then Red was cumming, groaning as Error struggled to his knees to fuck himself on his sensitive shaft. Then Error was tensing, his insides squeezing Red’s cock viciously, like it was trying to suck his cock right off his frame.

Before Red could move, Error caught him, grabbing and holding tightly onto his ribcage. “Don’t pull out,” he pleaded breathlessly. “It’s been...so long si-since I felt...this good.”

“Alright, sweetheart, I hear ya. I gotcha. Let’s lay down fer a while,” Red said, holding Error to his front as he rolled onto his side, snagging the comforter to cover their rapidly cooling, sweat covered bones. “Take a lil’ snooze.”

Error grunted in agreement, already drifting off against his broader partner’s warmer, encompassing form. His skull felt like it was full of cotton fluff, ache free and weightless. Subconsciously, he acknowledged a hand over the ecto of his lower abdomen. His soul ached vaguely, yet not in a physical sense; a strange wave of deja vu followed him into his dreams.

~

******

This.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. Yet here he was, faced with Blue’s contemptuous gaze, making him feel like an animal with its leg caught in a bear trap. He clenched his jaw, nervous sweat prickling at his skull.

The universe must have decided karma was due to begin its debt collecting now, because everything within his being withdrew until he felt absolutely miniscule. His soul felt like it might pop, the drip-drip of the magic into his damaged organ overwhelmingly loud in the sudden silence that befell the laboratory.

Leaning forward, Blue reached a hand towards Error’s face. He flinched away, eyelights shrunken down into pinpoints.

“D-don’t,” Error snapped, meaning to sound far more authoritative than the reedy voice that escaped him. Blue repeated the motion, far more slowly. He brushed the other’s cheek with his hand before cupping his jaw. Already Error’s sockets were closed, his ribcage expanding and contracting more quickly than before. Blue sighed.

“Error, look at me.” A whimper left Error as he jerkily shook his head ‘no’. “I’d like for you to look at me. I’ll wait.”

Reluctantly, his eyes met Blue’s gaze, and he felt real fear coil in his soul. He was acutely aware of the thumb stroking his cheek, and their proximity to one another. The scent of Blue’s bones in the sterile laboratory was overwhelming, the jarringly familiar cologne choking–he was going to be sick, it was too much to handle–

Then he was being kissed, deeply, forcefully. He scrunched his eye sockets shut and actively fought the urge to bite down, culminating serene thoughts within his mind to distract him from being effectively pinned to the examination table.

His mind conjured up Red seated at his desk, laughing at an inside joke over morning coffee. He thought of the warmth of his favorite chaise, and the taste of Red’s tongue against his own. He convinced himself it was a game, one that he'd learn to play to stay safe and sane. He shakily swallowed his broken pride and with no small amount of loathing, slumped into the tightening grip on his shoulders. He imagined it to be Red calling him sweet things in his strong accent, nibbling his cervical vertebrae with sharp teeth, and caressing the divots of his pelvis. Not this.

Because this just didn’t happen to him.

It didn’t.

Chapter Text

Error developed a habit of platonically fucking, cuddling, and generally spending the majority of his time around his former boss. It was definitely platonic. Definitely (because he said so). Every time a little spark flared, he stamped it out without hesitation. House arrestees didn’t have the luxury of developing feelings. He was just a tool. For whatever reason, Red decided to spoil him. He wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, that was for certain. The little comforts were appreciated by Error far too much.

When he wasn’t platonically admiring Red or indulging in the larger monster's warm embrace, Error slept. Red would be making phone calls, typing furiously while grumbling under his breath and smoking sweet, pungent cigars, and Error would be curled up in a plush blanket on the daybed close to his desk. The piece of furniture was a deep brown leather, smelling strongly of the polish rubbed into it. It felt perfect against Error’s bones, especially after he trudged up from the chilly laboratory after his magic infusions. It was placed just right, too, so that the sun warmed it up for him. He could feel his bones relax at the sight, even when Red was heated and tearing apart a customer on the phone. When he was swaddled there, he could drift away unhindered.

When a doctor and a couple nurses came knocking to remove the excess tubage from his soul, Error was immediately on edge. While he should have been relieved, he was the opposite. Blue was present, surprisingly for once just sitting there as the group organized themselves and their machinery. Error’s rib cage felt tight, like some coiling mass that would eventually strangle him. He eyed them, feeling like he already had no room to breathe–how would they even do this? Would they just pluck the tubes out? Surely not, since the snaking tubage was welded with his soul.

“Mr. Swap, ya’ve got some company today. If ya got questions, I’ll be here ta supervise,” Red stated, coming to stand on the other side of the examination table. No matter how comfortable he tried to make it, the surface was always icy. Today the surface was bitter cold against his claws. Thankfully Error always dressed for warmth, laying down a ratty, albeit wickedly cozy blanket under his tailbone.

Red’s hands found their way into his pants pockets. He’d tried to warm up the lab many times. The lab was just too cavernous to get heat to permeate the space.

“I can see that.” Blue tucked his notes aside, forcing a smile. This put a rift in his plans for today. His mouth watered at the memory of Error’s reaction to his touch. It had been intoxicating, crossing that line. He was aware he was playing with fire, but he was too deep in it to care.

“Ho-old up, wait,” Error snapped, feeling cornered as gloved, human hands probed along his ribcage. They promised pain, he knew it, he could sense it. Someone else was hooking up another bag of something and he didn’t like that, the sounds were all wrong. Why wasn’t anyone letting him know what was going on? He felt like he was pulled into a waking fever dream.“ I wa-a-anna know what the fu-uck is happening!”

Red was at Error’s side, assessing the situation. “Hey, hey,” Red said, voice far quieter than usual, lacking its typical bite. Error hissed, his soul accepting cool fluid without a hitch. It didn’t help the panic rising inside of him, threatening to spill out in droves. His eye sockets stung, a mixture of anger and fear accumulating quicker than he could contemplate. “Ey, doc, couldja tell ‘im what’s goin’ on? He’s not enjoyin’ bein’ in the dark here.” He offered a hand for Error to take, and it was taken without hesitation.

The doctor appeared guilty upon being called out. He’d expected the nurses to be of some assistance in comforting their patient, but here he was running the show here as well. “Sorry, sir. All we’re doing is numbing the carapace of your soul so there won’t be any discomfort for you. We’re planning to remove the tubes when all you can feel is pressure,” he explained, eyeing the nurses who remained silent as they worked. “I promise there won’t be any pain when we begin. I know this can be nerve-wracking. My intention wasn’t to scare you, I apologize sir.”

Error didn’t seem so sure. His hand trembled in Red’s sturdy grip, and his eye sockets were pinched shut, brows creasing his forehead as they furrowed. Red frowned. “Strings, buddy, yer gonna be alright.” He pulled a rolling stool over from behind him, sitting down next to the table. He didn’t give a shit if his large frame was an obstacle to Blue’s oversight at the moment. He wasn’t about to leave Error alone to panic. “I’m here, bud. Jus’ focus on me. Can ya do that?”

Error nodded, the corners of his mouth downturned and quivering. “Good. Yer doin’ so good. It’s a lot, I know. Yer used ya knowin’ when everything’s gonna happen around here. But it ain’t all bad. Heh, they’re jus’ takin’ a little weight off yer chest, thas all,” Red spoke in as soothing a voice as he could muster.

“I’m so impressed by ya,” Blue heard Fell say like he’d known Error for a lifetime. “Ya’ve pushed through shit that would have other monsters throwin’ in the towel months ago. But not you.” Blue’s soul twisted in jealousy as he watched the bigtime scientist and multi-million dollar company co-owner hold his former lover’s hand. Fell looked at Error like he was precious. Irreplaceable. It occurred to Blue that he had probably seen Error’s ecto below the waist before, considering that was what he took Error in for in the first place. Blue had never wanted more to throw down his papers, his briefcase, and the pretense that he was an experienced caseworker than in that moment. His mind antagonized him, prompting him to move forward and establish his place next to Error.

“Mr. Fell, I can support him. I’m certain you're busy. Seems you always are at this time of day,” Blue stated. He was met with a glowing red eyelight, and a sharp-toothed sneer. Blue didn’t like that expression. Not at all.

Error’s eye sockets snapped open.

‘Hell no.’ Blue was not about to interject himself here, where he was already feeling like the ether wanted to devour him. “No, n-no,” he bit out, eyelights contracted into pinpricks. Red noted the death grip on his hand and used his other hand to pet Error’s metacarpals.

“Nah, I don’ think so. I’m busy here man. What d’ya need, pal?” Red bit out, lips twisted in a grimace. The word ‘pal’ stood out to Blue like a cactus spines between his joints.

“I’m fully capable of stepping in. We’ve gotten rather close over the time that we’ve known each other.”

“No, not–not you,” Error snarled, a flare of blue magic snapping into existence abruptly and fizzling out far before it came even close to reaching Blue. Blue blinked, stepping back at the charge of static electricity in the air. The attack hadn’t been strong at all, but the fact that Error had formed one at all was shocking. And impressive, in Red’s opinion. He blinked in shock before hardening his expression once more.

“I said I got it handled,” Red growled. “What part of I’m supporting him didja not understand, Swap? Fuck, he’s lived under my roof fer long enough, think I oughta know what makes him tick. Right now, yer another source of stress.”

“You ought to know, or you do know? I’m not concerned about a big show of empathy, Mr. Fell, I’m interested in the wellbeing of my client,” Blue insisted, standing his ground. Error was sweating bullets, his breathing ramped up and he was shaking. The nurses had to hold him in place so he wouldn’t dislodge the preparation for his procedure. He’d get out if Blue sat down, and he held his hand like he didn’t manipulate and use him during his visitations with Error.

“What the hell is wrong with ya? This is my fuckin’ lab, ya hear me, Swap?” Red barked, standing up to tower at least a head above Blue. “Now, yer bein’ a real pain in my ass. So step down or ya’ll be escorted out. I don’ care which ya choose. So cut the shit or get ready to be well acquainted wit’ my lil’ bro.”

Blue hissed as he relented, backing off. Fell huffed annoyedly, sitting down with Error once more, lowering his voice considerably. Those ringed digits stroked the top of Error’s hand soothingly…like a lover would. It made Blue’s soul contract painfully as he considered it. He hadn’t seen them interact much at all, but the possibility of their intimate involvement was there. He hated it.

“I’m going to give the tubes a little tug, alright? If you experience any pain, let me know.” The doctor moved the tubes, pulling gently, yet firmly, at the ones he intended to remove. “Any pain?”

“N-no,” Error responded, dark skull glistening. Red pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and ran it over Error’s skull, dabbing gently at the perspiration on his closed eye sockets. Error subconsciously leaned into the touch.

“And how about now?”

“I feel you moving it...it’s no-ot hurting, though,” Error said, squeezing Red’s hand. The doctor was satisfied and notified him that they were going to begin. “Okay,” he squeaked out. He turned his skull towards Red.

“I’ve gotcha. I’m right here.” Red reassured him.

Error nodded, tensing as cold metal tools maneuvered between his ribs. He was as still as possible, aside from his hands trembling. The sliding of the objects out of the core of his soul, threatened to make him sick. He focused on the rings adorning Red’s fingers, flexing his own digits until they were laced with Red’s thicker ones. Red hummed, a sound reminiscent of a deep, throaty purr.

It helped listening to Red’s voice. He could drift off for a while, imagining that he wasn’t here having cold steel palpating his most fragile organ. When everything was retracted and no more tools were knocking against his ribs, Error hesitantly opened an eye. He was met with the sight of Red, preoccupied with watching over what was happening, reminding him of a dedicated guard dog. When he realized he was being observed, Red met his gaze and smiled.

“Well hello there, Strings. Nice ta see yer eyelights again.”

“A-all done?” Error asked, and Red nodded. Error sighed, tension bleeding from his bones. “Thank Stars.”

“Ya did great. Jus’ cause ya did so well, I’ve got a lil’ somethin’ fer ya,'' Red stated, his smirk reflecting his intentions. A chill tickled its way up Error’s spine.

“What kind of something?” Error asked, voice soft.

“It’s a surprise. Not gonna spoil it.”

“But why? Tha-at was traumatic,” Error whined, scowling at the idea that he had to wait.

“It’ll be worth it, sweetheart, don’ worry. Good things come to those who wait, right?”

Error scoffed. “Sure. Whoever said that wasn’t the one waiting, obviously.”

“The anesthetic should wear off soon. I’ll schedule a follow up date before we head out.” The doctor mentioned, gathering up the equipment they’d utilized. Blue had loomed in the background like a vulture waiting for its meal to kick the bucket. When it was clear Mr. Fell wasn’t open to having a conversation with him after the interaction they’d had, he slunk off back up the stairs and into the main floor of the home. Curiosity might have tempted him to explore the space further if a notably taller, fiercer looking fellow hadn’t been shooting him a glare fit to kill.

“Looking for the way out?” He asked, his voice just as Blue imagined it would be. He nodded. “I don’t believe you. You didn’t look like you were departing.”

“I was,” Blue contradicted. The skeleton monster clicked his dark vermillion tongue.

“I don’t believe you,” Boss stated, his voice scathing.

Blue scoffed, nervousness apparent in his movements. He readjusted his briefcase, frowning as he zipped his jacket. Meeting with Error was out of the question today.

“You’re to leave, Mr. Swap. Now.”

Blue did, not bothering with a response. Boss watched him go, not minding the leaves blowing past the retreating monster into the clean foyer. Once the car was far enough away, he closed and locked the door. That had been strange–he’d seen it from the surveillance room. He wasn’t about to leave it alone either. Grabbing a double espresso and his glasses, he headed back to the surveillance office. He needed to inspect the tapes.

~

Red only met his brother in the living room because he’d insisted it was important; otherwise he would’ve spooned Error, caressing the smooth ecto of his abdomen, trailing his digits through the plush insides he’d been buried in for the past few hours. Error had been especially affectionate post operation. He had complimented Red’s appearance, which was new. Red didn’t expect to be so charged at Error’s attention, with the other pointing out how Red’s scars had him burning so pleasantly in intimate places.

Red didn’t want to jostle anything after the procedure, so he piled some pillows under Error’s hips and fucked him slowly from behind, lazily thrusting into his pretty pussy, teasing his puffy clit until it was pleasantly swollen. Error was the first in a long time he wanted to cherish for hours, to actually make love to rather than just fuck and leave. Error babbled throughout about ‘not letting him go’ and Red being ‘all he wanted’ sprinkled with ‘pleases’ and exclamations of his name while Red pressed kisses against Error’s neck and skull. He was tempted to knot him, but the waning light reminded him of his meeting with Boss. He still worked Error through an orgasm that had him sobbing out in relief, gripping Red’s hand like a lifeline. When Red came, he was so tempted to say ‘fuck it’ and drift off with Error into sleep. Reluctantly, he got up, tucking the other into the nest of blankets.

“So what was it ya wanted ta talk about? Hope it’s importin’ cause I’m beat, Boss.”

“Extremely important, Brother. It’s better if I show you. There’s been some, hmm–” Boss’ voice caught as he contemplated the scenes he’d watched unfold in the laboratory, “Rather horrific happenings we’ve been ignorant to.”

“What’dya mean?” Red asked, following Boss towards the surveillance room. He had a sinking feeling in his soul, his conscience warning him that he wasn’t going to like what he was about to witness. “Boss? Yer makin’ me worried here with the silence. Fill me in, wontcha?”

“Sit, Red,” he ordered, checking the history of the surveillance to make sure they video stream was where he wanted. “I’ve reviewed each visitation between Mr. Swap and Error. They’re…highlly unpleasant. If I’d known–” he trailed off, guilt evident in his features. He shook his skull. “Watch them first. Then we’ll talk.” He pressed play. Red’s eyes were glued to the screens.

It began with flinching on Error’s part to real expressions of pain. He observed Swap crushing Error’s hand with own, before gripping his jaw so that he was forced to make eye contact with him. Scenes blended together as Mr. Swap touched him under the blankets Error took downstairs to stave off the cold. Error repeatedly looked anywhere but at him until his jaw was snatched again and again. Red’s eyelights trembled in their sockets as he watched the so-called caseworker treating him like livestock as he squeezed the malleable bone of his jaw until it probably creaked with the pressure. His mind supplied him with what that might have sounded like and he felt ill. Blue would wipe his hand off on Error’s pants, like it was an inconvenience to touch him after he was the one who initiated things. He was treating him like a fucking toy.

The worst was yet to come though. Red was fuming, watching as Swap tried to force Error’s skull downwards in the direction of his pelvis–probably sweet talking him, or claiming he owed him. Error’s nasal ridge had barely met the jutting shaft before he tilted his head. Swap visibly jumped, and Red’s confusion was soon cleared as marrow infused magic spattered onto the examination table, the blanket, and Error’s unbuttoned shirt. Initially thinking he’d bitten Swap’s dick, Red felt a dark sense of satisfaction, before realizing it was Swap’s forearm which had suffered the puncture of Error’s canines. Error gathered up his blanket and disconnected himself from the infusion tubes, splattering raw magic on the floor. He remembered that day, when Error had trailed coagulating magic through the halls. Boss had been pissed, to put it lightly.

As a parting gift, Swap caught him by the back of his shirt, wrestling with him until he had Error by the cervical vertebrae. The magic pulsing through Red’s joints was boiling. Error was shaken like that, his own hands viciously clawing at the ones threatening to break the vertebrae of his neck. He thrashed, kicking at Blue, landing a particularly sharp blow to the monster’s pelvis that prompted him to let him go. Error fell to the ground (he told Red he’d tripped over the tangle of wires at the end of the examination table) and skinned his exposed bones, bruising his coccyx on the concrete floor. Like a feral animal, Blue was on him, connecting their lips forcefully. Error hit him, his leverage nil, scrabbling to get away–then abruptly he was let go, and Swap was spitting indigo blood against the cement floor. Error wiped at his mouth as he made for the stairs, dropping the blanket in the stairwell to impede Blue’s ascent after him.

Red couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen it. How could he have been so fucking blind? He got up, hands trembling with the rage he felt. That fucker had been preying on Strings, taking advantage of him under their roof–

“Wait. Don’t,” Boss ordered, recognizing that look in Red’s eyelights. He’d known him far too long to not interject when his older brother was about to fuck something up. “Not when you’re like this. Think about what he’s been through.”

“Why? Why shouldn’t I go and…and…”

“And what? Do you want to make him feel cornered, brother?” Boss narrowed his eye sockets, leveling Red with a critical look. “Put yourself in his position.”

“An’ ya know about comfortin’ Strings? Really? Coming from the guy who’s threatened ‘im, made him feel like a nuisance here, yeah, I should totally take yer advice. Right.”

“I recognize I haven’t been the best, but that doesn’t mean I’m soulless!” Boss snapped. “I’d never condone this happening to him, let alone any other monster. Now stop being so dense and sit down before you fuck up everything!”

There was a tense silence before Red relented, cursing and shoving his hands deep into his pockets. He was still trembling with rage, but it was becoming infused with a strong wave of guilt. He was supposed to have protected Error. What kind of guy was he to let this happen to him? He released a sigh and looked at the ground between his slippers. “Whatta my s’posed to do? I told ‘im I’d keep him safe here. If he’d just told me what was happening, I coulda done something…”

“We can’t know why, brother. You need to be understanding and listen. What he says will be vital in building a case against Swap,” he responded. “ Swaps visits cease now.”

“He’ll be lucky ta see daylight again if I see his face around here,” Red stated, before pinching his nasal ridge hard. “I need a drink, Boss. Somethin’ to lighten the load. Don’t skimp, I wan’ it ta bite me.”

“I second that.” Boss stood, beckoning the other to follow him to the cellars.

~

Red could be patient. The alcohol had helped (barely) and while he felt the unsettling churn of his soul while he contemplated the events that had occurred in his own lab, he had held himself back from cornering Error like an animal.

He even acted fairly normal throughout the day, keeping to his routine of responding to orders while Error went through the motions of his own day. When Error entered his office quietly to curl up on his favorite piece of furniture in the home, Red sighed. He felt better seeing him cuddle into the heavy blanket and warm leather, yet another part of him was eating away at his conscience. He needed to talk to him, but when was a good time? How did one go about addressing this kind of thing?

Red waited until he could wait no longer. Before he could logically plan his approach, he was looming over Error. It would’ve been wise to sort through it all and think, but Red wasn’t the best with tamping down his emotional turmoil. He’d done a wonderful job of scaring him out of sleep, Red noted, as he observed Error’s wide eye sockets and rigid posture..

“Why didn’t ya tell me about what’s been happenin’ in the lab?” Red asked, voice thick with emotion. Red fought the crack in his voice, loathing the feeling of having failed someone. Error looked like a deer in the headlights, shrinking back into the blankets and pillows away from him.

“F-found out what? What are you tal-talking about?”

“What he did to ya, it’s all archived, Strings. I coulda helped if ya’d just given me the chance. What the fuck ya were thinkin’ stayin’ quiet?” Red asked, his soul aching. Error looked mortified.

“Y-you saw?” He asked, mind going a mile a minute as he digested that. He’d seen it. All of it? “What did you sEe?”

“Everything I needed ta,” Red ground out, clenching and unclenching his clawed digits as though he could snap Blue’s neck from miles away, “I shoulda been there. When ya were hooked up, I shoulda insisted on bein’ present for the caseworker meetings–”

“Stop.” Error held up a hand, as though that would help the fact that Red had seen him violated on camera. He felt ill. Red wasn’t supposed to know about it–now he was probably pitying him, he could see it in his face.

“No, I’m not gonna stop! It’s inexcusable an’ I won’ let some backward fuck come in my lab and take advantage of ya while ya can’t properly defend yerself!” Red was a seething embodiment of rage, and there was no way he was being talked out of finding Mr. Swap to rip his skull from his spine.

“You’re finding out like this because I-i–” Error tripped over words, glitches fiercely crackling over his bones. “Fuck, I didn’t ask for thi s! Are you suggesting I en-enjoy what he did? Heh, it’s not like I asked to b-be used!” He shouted, the sound bursting forth with a ferocity Red didn’t expect. Error threw off the covers, getting in Red’s face. His soul stung where everything had been resealed, but he couldn’t care less.

“Strings–Error, I’m not sayin’ ya did–”

“You implied it. Why the hell wo-would I have told you?” Error’s face screwed up into a grimace. “He told me that I was an outlet for a fuck. That’s what I a-am,” Error stated. “I just pref-prefer being a cock sleeve on my own terms.”

“Error,” Red said sympathetically, guilt gnawing at his soul. He should have waited. He definitely should’ve waited. “No, yer not ‘just an outlet’. N’ of course ya wan’ it on yer own terms…”

“So what?” Error asked tiredly. He rubbed at his dry eye sockets and sighed. It wasn’t as though he was getting sound sleep anyhow. “What do you want? What’s going to ch-change now that you know he’s been handsy for months?”

Red was astonished, then peeved. “Everything will change,” he growled. “If ya think I’d let him near ya again, yer dead wrong. If I get to ‘im first, he’s gonna wish he was dusted.”

Error paused, then contemplatively looked over Red. It felt too simple. “Don’t play with me, Red. What can you do?”

Red chuckled humorlessly. “Sweetheart, I’m capable of a lot more than ya think. He ain’t comin’ back, I promise ya.”

Error snorted. “Because I can’t take care of my-myself anymore, right? I’m your property, can’t let me get broken before you ca-can use me, too,” Error muttered, before the sting of regret pinched his soul. He hunched over, looking down and away from Red, expecting a burst of emotion.

Red grimaced. “Nah, ya hafta know I don’t mean it that way. Strings, tell me ya know otherwise. You do, dontcha? Error?”

Error was silent, eyelights piercing in the low light of the room. He shifted, his arms crossed over his sternum as he leveled that critical gaze upon Red. “My autonomy is absent. I don’t ha-ave anything left. Don’t pretend I have any freedom.” He slunk forward, snagging Red’s white t-shirt in his tricolored phalanges. Glaring daggers up at his lover ex-boss felt good, especially since he begrudgingly found him incredibly attractive. Somehow, weirdly enough, that made it easier for Error to hate him. Just a little. ‘Screw your ruggedly handsome face. Fuck. You.

“I give as much as I can. Ya know that.”

Red might’ve been telling the truth, but nonetheless, Error felt cheated–like the world had chewed him up, spit him out, and now cursed him with a flame he couldn’t smother. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t kill this attraction to Red.

Error growled, forcefully grabbing Red’s hand and placing it on his hip bone where ecto had begun to form, his figure filling out into something more than bare bones. Anger flared white hot in Error’s soul, paired with lust that hurtled through his being like turbulent waves against a shoreline. Seeking out Red’s other hand, he gripped it, placing the palm on his firm abdomen, trailing it downward. “Do you?” Error asked, guiding Red’s thick digits so that they glided between the soft lips, grazing his opening. “Don’t lie to me,” he hissed.

“Strings, come on.” Red hesitated, tempted to put space between them, but Error pinned him with a look that dared him to leave. “Listen, I shoulda given ya time, waited til I’d thought this over more–”

“What would that have changed?” Error bit out, pushing two of Red’s thick digits inside of himself. “Heheh, no. You said your p-piece.”

“Dammit, Error.”

“Fucking fuck me,” Error growled, hooking a leg around Red’s waist and grinding down on his palm. His skull was burning with irritation and want, and why on earth was it taking so long to get this show on the road? “Your girthy cock. I wa-ant it inside me.”

“Seriously? We’re talkin’ about the fact that a guy was abusin’ ya under my watch–this doesn’t feel like bad timin’ to ya? At all?”

Error snarled. “Does it look like I give a sh-shit about timing? I’m furious and frankly very horny.” ‘For you’ was left unspoken. “Are you gonna give it to me or do I need to consult Boss to dick me down?”

That caught Red’s attention. He lifted Error’s other leg, pinning him to the mattress in a swift lunge. His eyelight was a lit ember in its socket, emitting crimson smoke into the air. “No. He’s not someone ya go to fer sex, ya hear me? Not now, not ever. Now stop bein’ a pain in my ass and listen ta me, will ya?!”

“Your cock. Inside me. Fucking please,” Error whined, squirming in Red’s hold. “I’m tired of talking.” ‘And tired in general’ Error thought, mourning the loss of his sleep even if it was crappy. Red sighed, the irritation clear in his tone as he unbuckled his belt and slipped his pants down over his pelvis.

“Boss doesn’t owe ya a thing, sweetheart n’ neither do I frankly.”

“Oh? So then why are you still here? Tell me that mu-much,” Error snapped, something in his voice strained. Choked. Red nipped his lower lip, leaving it stinging. Error’s lip throbbed, more than likely bleeding since his fuck buddy had the teeth of a shark. His suspicion was validated when Red ran his tongue over his lip where he’d bitten. Bastard. “You can kick me out. I have a room, bone daddy.”

Red snorted. “Hot and cold, aren’t ya? Ya want this or not, Strings?” His broader midsection rested between Error’s legs, warm and unyielding. Where Error’s ecto was leaner and firmer, Red’s was suggestive of ecto-muscle structure underneath the extra weight he carried. Error rolled his eyelights.

“Just…make me for-forget,” Error pleaded, his voice cracking at the end like unoiled machinery. While Red was momentarily confused at the change of tone, he didn’t let it deter him. He made Error see stars on the ceiling of the dark bedroom. Error’s soul alone illuminated the patterned bedsheets, a cyan flame licking upwards, trying Red’s resolution. It was a dangerous game to play, but Red tempted fate, rubbing his sternum against Error’s until tethers of his soul brushed the one below.

~

Error hadn’t meant what he said about propositioning Boss. He felt like he had hit a nerve by mentioning that he’d seek Red’s younger sibling out for sex, because Red had suddenly become more possessive. He’d wanted to rile him up to get his way, and he’d succeeded. Not only that, but Error could tell the Fells were tense considering they had an abuse case on their hands. Boss had called it rape. Error’s nasal ridge crinkled at that.

It hadn’t gone that far–Blue hadn’t done that. He’d just been a self-indulgent, inconsiderate prick who followed him somehow to his inevitable prison alternative. He was a stalker, a manipulative shit, but a rapist–Error wasn’t sure he agreed. He wasn’t raped, surely. He would’ve known. Right?

It still hurt. He felt it deep down, like an open wound. The fact that Blue had done those things that he did. Making Error touch him, touching him without permission, kissing him forcefully, grabbing his face like he was a toy to be jerked around–it all made him feel sick to his soul. He’d convey that it was fine, but he felt the acute burn of betrayal. Blue was supposed to have been the good guy, the one he could depend on and relax around. Instead he became a source of persistent pain.

“You know I wouldn’t actually prop-proposition your brother, right?” Error asked Red, watching the steam rise from his coffee cup. The morning had an earthy, metallic scent; maybe it was leftover blood from their lovemaking in his nasal aperture. He couldn’t tell.

Red didn’t look up from the documents in his hands. “Why’d ya say it then?” He was taking notes, mulling over the clauses and laws that could get Blue into deep shit. Boss was talking to someone over the phone and from the furious echoes of his voice down the hall.

“I wanted a reaction out of you,” Error admitted. “I wasn’t thinking.”

Red sighed. “Tch. Ya were thinkin’ alright.” Red’s expression turned sympathetic, and Error hated it. He didn’t want anyone’s sympathy. “I’m sorry, Error.”

Error winced. “Why the hell are you sorry?”

“‘M sorry cause ya have ta live like this, thas’ what I’m sorry fer. ‘M not mad atcha.”

“I’m not so desp-desperate that your brother is suddenly fuckable, dammit.” Error turned over on the daybed, looking out the window. Looking at Red was difficult when he gazed at him with that expression of concern. Error wasn’t a basket case. “I’m fine.”

Red snorted. “What, yer sayin’ Boss isn’t yer first choice for a hookup?”

“i’m not a fucking nympho-omaniac.” Error sighed. “Just sucks my ecto won’t form o-on it’s own…”

“Fair ‘nough.” Red cleared his throat, before stating, “I’m here when ya need ta burn off some steam. Just say the word, Strings, n’ I’m game.”

Error grumbled an acknowledgement, refusing to turn around with the burning blush in his cheeks. Red liked his cunt, that was it. So why was this turning out to be more difficult than he thought?

~

Cross sat with him in his room, which was rarely ever touched anymore. The warmth of Red’s bones and his rhythmic snores helped him to fall and remain asleep. His old room felt like a stranger’s suite.

“I’m worried about you,” Cross admitted, eyelights searching for a hint in his friend’s expression. “You’ve been avoiding me–”

“Well, I’m institutionalized s-so–”

“You’re keeping something from me,” Cross stated, eye sockets narrowing. “I don’t like it. You’ve blocked me out.”

“No–”

“You have though. I haven’t been able to see you in months, Error. I miss you. I miss living together and hearing your loud asshole antics in the wee hours of morning. I miss just talking to you.”

Error worried his lower lip and nodded. He knew how infrequently he had reached out to his friend. He also knew that telling him about what had happened would make him more concerned. Error sighed, stress written in his expression. “I…” he felt ill, a pang of anxiety fuelled nausea washing over him. “It’s a lot.”

“Yeah. I know.” Cross offered his hand, and Error took it. “I’m not going to blame you for being depressed. I just fucking miss my best friend. It’s lonely without you, Ru.”

Error nodded. He wasn’t going to cry. That would just serve to make him feel more pathetic than he already did. “Miss you too, Cross. So much.” He wiped at an eye socket, definitely not brushing away tears. “I’m go-going to tell you something, okay?”

“Okay. I’m here.” Cross squeezed his hand. Error looked up at the ceiling, watching particles of dust illuminated by the light filtering through the curtains. The room was too small and too large simultaneously; he wanted to disintegrate into that dust hanging in the air like it was immortalized there. Instead he was about to admit that he was tormented by what Blue did to him. Deconstructing how that made him feel was terrifying.

“S-so, uh, where do I start?” Error swallowed, sandpapery, ethereal material greeting his formed throat behind his wispy, gray scarf. “My caseworker turned out to be Blue, for one. Heh.”

Cross’ expression morphed into one of bewilderment, then suspicion. “What do you mean he was your caseworker? Blue? As in–”

“Yes. Him.” Error breathed out, trying to steady himself. “He took on my case for whatever reason…more than likely wanted to b-be close to me still. It didn’t go well.”

“What happened?” Cross asked, forehead creased with concern. Error didn’t like feeling choked up. Why did he feel like this all of the time now?

Stinging tears trickled down his cheeks. “It sta-started out small, but he would force me to do things while I sat through magic transfusions. I just went-went with it,” Error spat, coughing and sniffling as he searched for something other than his scarf to wipe his face.

“What did he do, Error?”

“He used me,” Error’s voice cracked. “Forced me. Shoved his hand down my pants while I w-was hooked up to the magic transfer. He manhandled me every time he visited,” Error hiccupped. “He just wouldn’t stop...”

Cross was livid. He opened his arms, and Error accepted the embrace without hesitation. Rubbing his friend’s back, Cross said, “He’s dug his own grave, Ru. He’s not gonna touch you again. I won’t let him, and neither will Fell.”

“R-Red’s filing for a new caseworker.”

“He should be,” Cross growled, hugging his pal more tightly. Error shrugged weakly. “Did you tell Red you guys were involved before?”

“No.”

“Error. Why not?” Cross’ eyelights were hardened. “This is important. Blue hurt you, he crossed a fucking line when he stalked you here. This is serious, dude, we need to take action–”

“I kno-ow, I know.” Error sniffled. “I’m going to tell him. I just needed to collect myself.”

“Do it. Or I will,” Cross stated, holding his friend tightly against his chest. Error knew his friend wasn’t bluffing. He wouldn’t put it past him. “Shit, Error, I’ll tear him limb from limb for doing this to you.”

“Don’t,” Error muttered. “You’ll be jailed, too. Do you wan-want that?”

“You’re underestimating me by a lot,” Cross mumbled, swaying back and forth gently. “I’m not gonna do anything stupid. I’m going to come by more often. Not going to let you go through this alone.”

Error nodded, feeling deflated as he sank into Cross’ comforting embrace. Oddly, it felt nice not having to hold it in any longer. Maybe he could start to heal his mental wounds and his physical ones would get the memo and start doing the same.

~

Blue didn’t return to the Fell household after Red called social services to make a report. He was dumbfounded when the response was that there was no Mr. Blue Swap in the system of caseworkers. Instead, a skeleton monster with square, wire-frame glasses, a white lab coat, and dark under eyes approached Error and Red on a Tuesday morning, extending a hand to Error.

“Mornin’. Call me Sci. I own five cats and I can count my friends on one hand,” he said, his lazy smirk and light blue eyelights a welcoming sight. Error readily took his hand, gripping it firmly as he shook it.

“E-e-error. Is Sci short for something?”

“Hehe, yeah, Science. Isn’t that clever? It’s on the nose, I know. My buddies gave me the name in medical school and it stuck.” He extended his hand to the Fell brother sitting with Error. “Hope you can excuse my tardiness. There was a hitch on the way here.”

“Oh?” Red quirked a brow. Sci’s smile turned terse.

“Nosy bitches butted into my file cabinet. I wasn’t about to lead them to the residence of my client,” he explained, retrieving a laptop from his bag and making himself comfortable at the table with the others. “I don’t let prying go unpunished.”

“Ah. Fair ‘nough. Yer off the hook this time, bud.”

“Thank you, Mr. Fell. Now, how about we get this show on the road, huh? How’re you feeling today, Error?”

Needless to say, the atmosphere was relaxed. With Red present, Error could breathe easy. It was all standard, nothing sketchy, and when Sci had to leave, it was almost a shame. He was someone normal from the outside, a breath of fresh air in a way; that was strange for Error, since social interaction was something he never really valued in the past. He wondered if that would count as growth or regression.

What didn’t change were the tedious magic infusions. He downloaded a podcast app and made sure to bring his crochet with him. He was partway finished with a sweater that switched between a deep red, vibrant sunset orange and black. Up until recently, he’d been able to focus perfectly fine, but with the increase in vitamins and other nutrients in the blend, Error’s magic had begun to churn uncomfortably. He could describe the feeling as having the ground pulled out from under his feet, the resulting sensation leaving acrid, residual flavors in his mouth. When his tongues spontaneously manifested without him summoning them, Error expected to expel magic orally.

Red had pointed out a serum to ease nausea. He’d told him the name, the color, had him smell it, and Error was confident in his ability to find the glass tube with soul calming elixir. Uncomfortable and swearing to himself, he sought the test tube, popping the cap. He was nauseated enough that the liquid didn’t smell like anything–scrunching his face in discomfort, he tipped the liquid back into his mouth. He shivered at the taste, despising the slimy texture and everything about it. The test tube clunked against the surface of the sink, empty of its contents.

‘Red, what in the fresh hell was that? Ew. How about never again?’

Sliding back onto the cold surface of the examination table, he closed his eyes and threw a forearm over his face. Something was happening for sure. Stars help him, if the spinning of the room could stop, he’d be elated. Taking measured breaths, he waited, relief washing over him as his being settled into a state of non-sickly sensation. Strangely enough, his core felt abuzz. He suspected the serum had minor side effects of its own. So be it.

Come evening, Error wasn’t so positive this would pan out in his favor. Boss was cooking something with savory meats and strong spices, and while it smelled great, Error had never drooled on account of anyone’s cuisine. He grabbed a towel from Red’s bathroom, holding it under his jaw, because he couldn’t unsummon his tongues, which felt thick in his mouth. So here he was, like an infant, unable to control his ecto functioning. Absolutely wonderful.

Then came the hot flashes. He ended up abandoning his towel in favor of dousing himself in cold water. Sitting down in Red’s large shower unit, he let the multiple heads rain down upon him, chilled water doing almost nothing against the furnace brewing inside his soul. He was literally panting. He felt like a mutt on a scorching summer’s day with mounds of fur surrounding his bones. When one hot flash passed, he was hit with another wave of prickling discomfort lapping at his sternum, descending his spine before climbing up his cervical vertebrae and blooming over his face. He decided to remain there–not that his legs would comply at the moment. Hours in the frigid water kept him comfortable enough. He let the back of his skull clunk against the black marble tile, allowing his legs to fall open.

‘Think loose, just relax. It’ll pass. At least you’re not nauseated any longer, right?’

Red arrived back home from a meeting with Mr. Joku in exasperation. He was hungry and pissed. Leave it to Error to be so secretive that he left it unsaid that he worked for the guy while also signed on as his merc. He was also enlightened to the fact that one of Joku’s partners had recommended the guy that was responsible for Error’s near fatal injury. It wasn’t hard to put the pieces together. The guy fled the city, practically dropping from the face of the earth. Red wasn’t satisfied with that answer. Shedding his jacket and plopping his keys down, he trudged into the kitchen.

“You look awful, brother,” Boss remarked as he stirred the stewed meat on the stove. Red snorted. Kills snickered somewhere in the living room, remarking about how ‘Boss was bold to remark on who looked awful here’. Boss rolled his eyelights, pointedly ignoring him.

“Thanks. Figured as much,” Red growled. “Where’s Strings?”

“I’m not sure. He was in your room earlier. I’d check there first.”

“A’ight. Dinner smells fuckin’ great, Boss.”

“Of course it does. It’ll be finished soon, so fetch Error while you’re back there. He needs to eat.”

“Yeah yeah,” Red grumbled, making his way back to his room to find Error. Nearing the room they’d been sharing for a while now, he heard the water running from the bathroom. Entering, he looked around, then towards the restroom door which hadn’t even been shut. “Strings,” he called out, expecting to hear a response, but none came. Exasperated, he knocked on the restroom door. “Error, ya good? I’ve ‘ad a long day. Needa talk to ya,” Red grunted. The only response he received was the continuous spray of the shower heads. “Hey, are ya listenin’ ta me? Cause ignorin’ me ain’t gonna fly,” he hissed, turning to head towards the shower. When he didn’t immediately catch a silhouette, he was confused. Now that he was closer, he could see the dark shape on the shower floor. ‘Shit.’ Throwing the foggy glass door open, he entered the large space, bending down to inspect the other. His eye sockets were closed.

“Error, shit. Error, c’mon, hey–” he jostled his shoulder, noting that he was shivering. The water seeped into Red’s bones.

“No,” Error whimpered, attempting to swat Red’s hand away. He couldn’t feel his arm though, so it was more of a flop of his hand in the general direction of Red’s touch. “...too hot,” he said, as though that was enough to explain why he was on the icy floor of the shower, his cheek flush against the tiles near the gurgling drain. The filtering of water through the slats became a song over the hours, and he thought Red’s voice had been a part of the sounds originating from it. Now, of course, he knew otherwise.

“Strings, fuck–” Red turned the knobs until the water ceased. “What’re ya doin’? Tell me what’s goin’ on. Why’re ya in freezin’ water an’ on the ground?” Red slid a hand between Error’s skull and the ground.

“S’too hot,” Error stated, yet he found himself liking the heat from Red’s hand. He couldn’t explain it. “Don’t fe-eel good.”

“A’ight. Red’s gotcha,” he reassured, gathering Error’s numb form against his body in a bridal carry. His bones reminded Red of the numbing-cold, moss covered stones at the bottom of a creek. Boss used to collect colored rocks, shards of pottery, and anything his young mind deemed pretty when he jumped in any creek he could find. Red always got on him afterwards, reminding him that he wasn’t immune to hyperthermia. This is what ran through Red’s mind as he stripped off the clothing that was plastered to Error’s bones, heavy with the hours of soaking up water like a sponge. “Let’s get these off–just gonna make ya more ill. When did ya start feelin’ bad, Strings?” Red asked, not liking how Error’s skull lolled back. Propping him up in his bed, Red wrapped him in layers of blankets, focusing on warming up his soul.

“Earlier…nauseated and t-took some medicine,” Error slurred, fighting the blankets weakly. He was cold and hot and painfully weak. “Helped a little. Then…this.”

“Ya know yer s’posed to call me down,” Red said, contemplating which vial he’d find missing upon going down to the lab.

“You wer-eren’t here…”

Red sighed, acknowledging the obvious. “Yeah, I know. Shit. I’ll be right back, hold on.” He was down in his lab in an instant, the snap of his fingers landing him directly in front of the silver sinks with the cupboards of test tubes overhead. He didn’t even have to open one to know which one Error had taken–the evidence was in the sink. Red grimaced as he recognized the label. It was a medication in development. It was too early on to discern exactly how it was going to react with monster anatomy, but he had a few ideas of how this was going to go. With no antidote, he cursed aloud, gathering a few tried and true remedies which may help. “Ya had ta show ‘im, didn’t I? Why’d I even point this crap out? What the fuck was I thinkin’?”

He blipped into the kitchen, hands full of supplies from the lab. Boss whirled around. “What in the name of Asgore–”

“Can ya bring dinner to the room? He’s in bad shape. I’ll explain later.” Before Boss could ask anything more, Red was gone. Red was back in the room dropping the supplies on a bedside table. Sighing and grumbling, he grabbed supplements and liquids to combine, crossing his fingers it would help some of the symptoms subside. “Ya grabbed a special medication in testin’. Can’t say I can stop what yer feelin’ but I’m gonna try my damndest.”

“T-thanks…” Error croaked, squeezing his eyes shut. He really was a masochist–with all that was happening to him, he felt a raw, throbbing ache in his pelvis. It strengthened in intensity with the hot flashes, contributing to the turbulent sensations assaulting him. He clenched his knees together, grinding his teeth as he buried his face in the plush pillow supporting his skull. What should he say? ‘Hey Red, I feel awful, but I’m starting to feel really horny, too. Got something for that?’

“Take this.” Red left no room for denial, holding the vial against his chin. Error opened his mouth, suppressing his gag reflex. He coughed after the fact and Red retrieved him a glass of water. “Tasty, ain’t it? Sorry, sweetheart, th’ medications aren’t known fer their flavors. Next time I’ll grab some bubblegum flavoring.”

“It’s vile,” Error replied after gulping down the water. “But ap-appreciated. I’ll p-pass on the bubblegum.”

Red sat himself down on the edge of the bed, unbuttoning his shirt. The conversation with Mr. Joku was still heavy on his mind and he figured with Error right next to him he might as well address his persistent, circling thoughts.

“Met with Mr. Nightmare Joku earlier. Ya never told me ya worked fer him, too.”

Silence. Then the covers rustled as Error squirmed, readjusting himself. “I never did, no.”

“Was there a reason fer that? Ya coulda informed me ya had others in on th’ operation. It’s a liability, I’m sure yer aware,” Red stated, eyelights hard as he studied him. Error nodded.

“Personal re-easons. Cross and I had things handled.”

There was a knock on the door to which Red barked ‘It’s open’. Boss entered with a tray of two plates of dinner. Error shrunk in on himself subconsciously and Red eyed the tantalizing meal his sibling had cooked up. “Bring the dishes when you’re finished, brother. I’ll be in the study.” The lithe, sharp monster turned, not bothering to nose around when he’d get the scoop later on. From what he could see, Red had a handle on the situation.

Error stared at the food. He didn’t feel hungry, contrary to Red who dug in with gusto. It took him no time at all to polish off the meal. He looked at Error, then to his plate. “What’re ya waitin’ fer?”

“Can’t.”

“Ah ah ah, can. Yer gonna eat, Strings,” Red insisted, picking up the spoon. Ladling up sauce, vegetables, and meat, he presented the spoonful. Error relented, opening his mouth to accept the food. “There ya go.”

It was great, but eating felt wrong when his body was having a conniption. “It’s good…but I’m not hungry.”

“Ya need ta eat food with the meds. C’mon, take some big bites. I know ya can.”

Error groaned, but his jaw fell open to accept the next spoonful. Screw it. He had officially regressed back into monster infanthood. Oh how far he’d come…

~

Error rolled around in his sleep, kicking and throwing hands like he was fighting off an enemy. Red was woken up for the umpteenth time. He could feel the bags forming under his eye sockets. Sucking in a breath, he held it before releasing it in a huge sigh. He was half tempted to move Error back into his own bedroom, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave Error to deal with the effects of the drug alone. He needed to monitor him to make sure his condition didn’t worsen.

Error whimpered in his sleep, mumbling unintelligible nonsense as he tossed and turned. The last thing Red expected was for his troubled bedmate to grind his wet core against his femur. It caught him off guard for sure–Error was soaked. Once his leg became a source of pressure, Error groaned, rolling his pelvis into the source of relief. Red just laid there and blinked absently for a moment before he collected himself. The soft ecto being forced against his leg was overheated, the amount of slick obscene…he rolled onto his side, interrupting Error’s humping, earning a pitiful whine.

“Shhh,” Red said lightly, his hand descending to Error’s slit, digits grazing the puffy opening. His claws found the protruding bud of his clit, taking no time in massaging it in circular motions. Error’s breathing hitched, his legs falling open. “There ya go. Yeah, babe, ya horny?”

Error’s hips squirmed, pelvis canting upwards. “R-Red, Red please–”

“You’ve been naughty, haven’t ya? Keepin’me up all night, Strings,” Red purred close to Error’s skull. Error moaned, leaning towards him in his sleep. Red wondered when he would stir. “Does yer pussy ache, sweetheart?”

Error nodded, clenching his jaw. His eye sockets fluttered, the tricolored eyelights brightening the lids as he gradually opened them. He panted, reaching for Red’s face. “Red…”

“Tha’s me,” he said, giving in and melding his lips with Error’s. He wasn’t expecting him to taste so sweet and smell so tantalizing. He sighed before drawing back, breathing heavily.

“You…inside me,” Error insisted.

“Yer not feelin’ good, Strings. I don’t think that’s a good idea right now.”

“Finger me the-en,” Error pleaded, fighting to keep his eyes open. Red obliged him and he cried out, hips snapping up to sheath his thick digits the rest of the way. “Y-yes, ohOh Stars, yes.”

“Easy there. Easy,” Red whispered, curling his claws against the velvety ecto of Error’s insides. Thrusting his digits in tandem with the insistent motions on his clit, Red brought Error through a quaking orgasm. “There we go. That’s it.”

“D-don’t stop,” Error gasped, sweat beading up on his forehead. It felt so good–he was on fire with want, the burn of his desire deeper than he’d ever remembered it being. After cumming once, he was still hungry for more, even though he was utterly exhausted. His limbs felt leaden. “Please don’t stop. O~oh fuck, hngn, Re-ed, will you please fuck me? I need it. I need it–”

“Str–Error, are ya crying?”

“Don’t make me answer that, you ass-asshole,” Error snapped, sniffling as Red’s claws brushed something sweet deep inside of him. It had his mouth watering. “Just-just please,” he whimpered.

“Error, talk ta me. What’re ya feelin’? I’m not stoppin’, just talk ta me’,” Red instructed, scissoring his fingers and pulling in an exaggerated ‘come hither’ motion. Error groaned, pleasure spreading throughout his lower half.

“It’s just–it’s more intense now. Like orga-asming was fuel to the fire. God I want you,” he breathed, voice wavering as he blinked past tears. “I-I don’t wanna feel overheated anymore,” he sobbed. “Fuck, I’m sorry I didn’t wait for you to get back to take the right medicine! I just want it to end, m-make it end, please,” he pleaded, grabbing for Red’s broad shoulders. He held onto him like his life was on the verge of ending.

“I know ya are. We’re gonna get ya through this. C’mere, I’m not mad atcha,” Red cooed as he situated Error in his lap. It was awkward, since Error was about as helpful as a ragdoll, but he managed; it wasn’t as if he weighed as much as he did. Red was larger than his bedmate and he was thankful for it. “Even now, when I have ya like this, yer pretty, ya know that?”

“Shut up,” Error coughed, hiding his face. “With that absolute n-nonsense–”

Red played with the dips in his spine, finding the sensitive places in his sacrum that made Error whimper. He adjusted the thick head of his cock and the other slid onto it with no resistance. Error’s insides were boiling. Red grit his teeth at the tightness around his girth that bordered on painful. “Holy…fuckin’shit yer tight. N’ it’s not nonsense. Ya think I tell that ta just anyone? Heh.”

“How should I know?” Leaning his skull to the side, finding the perfect nook between Red’s shoulder and neck, he hoped for something on his bones to provide more. He just needed more. “Bite me,” he blurted, not even sure if he meant it. It reminded him of their first drunken fuck when he’d returned home with bruises and a replica of Red’s teeth in his bones.

Quirking an eyebrow, Red hesitated momentarily. He inhaled the addictive scent radiating off of Error’s bones before sinking his teeth into his clavicle and shoulder. Error wailed, cumming hard, and like a fuse igniting, Red had flipped him onto his back. Error vocalized his pleasure, voice breaking as Red fucked him raw. Pistoning his hips rapidly, before alternating to a sensual grind, he sucked at Error’s cervical vertebrae, groaning in bliss as silken walls fluctuated around his shaft. Error squealed as his clavicle was nipped, catching Red’s lusty grin as he hilted himself deeply.

Red purred against his skull, thrusting deeper and deeper yet, his dick hitting the end of Error’s pussy sharply. Error wiped his mouth of drool, panting as Red continued to ream him.

“Ya wanna take my knot, sweetheart?” Red asked, fully intending on letting go.

Being called ‘sweetheart’ by Red wasn’t special, but it still made Error’s soul stutter. He nodded eagerly, whispering ‘yes’ since his voice was hoarse with overuse. Red obliged him, pulling his partner’s hips against his with every thrust, growling as his cock began to swell with his impending orgasm. Error took notice immediately, having his sensitive insides shoved aside by the growing pressure. Not knowing exactly what to expect, his breathing quickened, especially when Red was cumming, and the pressure flared tenfold. Because, holy shit, it was huge. Error didn’t know what to do with himself–Red was so deep inside him, he was hitting a place that was sharp, and while it was satisfying on a visceral level he was freaking out a bit. Looking down, he could see where they were attached, and the purple shape deep within his ecto body. Error swallowed thickly.

“Mmm, thas fuckin’ sexy,” Red hummed in appreciation, thumbin Error’s swollen clit. Error laid his skull back against the pillows, sighing as his bud was played with, gripping the sheets by the handful. “Ya doin’ alright? Yer takin’ me wonderfully.”

“Y-yeah. Better than alright,” Error breathed, hips stuttering as Red rolled his pelvis into him in a gentle, fluid motion. It tugged on the knot, stretching Error’s insides sharply. He hissed, tensing up before moaning as Red paid attention to his neck bones, distracting him from the burn. “R-Red, it’s a-aAh do that again.”

“My pleasure.” With careful, languid movements, he had Error digging rivets into his shoulder blades, strangled moans escaping his throat. Red shivered. “Baaaby, hnggh, scratch the shit outta me.”

Error kissed him, pulling him in close. He was nearing another orgasm, and Stars it felt like it was being slowly wrung out of him. It was torturous, and he whimpered into Red’s mouth, melding his tongues with Red’s, soul singing as their sternums brushed.

“Ohhh, fuck–oh Red, RedRe-edRed–”

“I’ve gotcha, mm, ya feel so good around me. Yer so good, Error,” Red’s voice wavered slightly, the intensity of the pull at his own soul getting to him. “Cum, babe. One more time fer me.”

“Y-your soul–can I–can we–”

“Yeah, fuck yeah,” Red growled, rolling his hips against Error’s, kissing him deeply as his magic spread from his soul, tethers intermingling with those below him. Blinding pleasure coursed through him. Error choked on a scream, spine taut as he arched against Red. Eyelights fizzing out, he trembled before falling completely lax against the sweat soaked mattress. Red let himself come down, catching his breath over his bedmate, forearms shaking, a goofy grin tugging at his lips. Until his vision cleared up enough to notice Error’s eye sockets dark. Not closed, just absent. Completely.

Red shook him lightly, talking sweetly, coaxing him, but no, he was out. Red panicked. Unsummoning his ecto body completely, and securing a towel around his waist, he made a mad dash for Boss, a complete mess of erratic motions. Boss followed him, because the last time he witnessed his brother react like that was eons ago. Red being livid was one thing–terrified Red was another.

“He-he just–” Red babbled, sounding nothing like himself. Boss cut him off, interjecting forcefully.

“He what, Red? Speak clearly. I’m not able to assist while you’re stuttering uselessly!” Boss stated sternly, his shadow looming over the bed.

“We were f-fuckin’ and he just went limp–just boom, and he’s unconscious–I’m afraid I really hurt him, I-I don’t know!”

A figure loomed at the open door, surveying the scene. He’d heard enough to know that what was going on wasn’t good, and that it involved Error. “What’s goin’ on?”

Boss ignored him, focusing upon Red as he stated, “You told me he wasn’t feeling well earlier. Did you involve your souls?” Boss asked, clinically gathering up the sheets that were sticky with sweat and magic. Error remained where he was, listening from the shell of his exhausted skull. He couldn’t move if he wanted to.

“Yeah, we did,” Red admitted, maneuvering Error’s body to move him into a dry area after Boss tugged the cling sheet from the mattress. “Got kinda caught up in everything…”

“I see. He’s probably dehydrated, brother. Did he eat?”

“Yes. Not all of it. Fuck, I’m so stupid. He took the wrong shit for nausea when I was out during my meeting. Triggered aphrodisiac-like symptoms. Shoulda controlled myself. Stars I’m sucha fuckin’ idiot,” Red growled, rummaging around the medications he’d brought up from his lab. Locating an IV, he prepped it before slipping the needle into Error’s arm joint. Error scowled, bunching his brows together, and Red breathed a sigh of relief.

“Hold on,” Kills invited himself into the bedroom, much to Boss’ and Red’s vexation. “You mean to tell me he got a hold of some drug in yer lab? The fuck is it gonna do to him?”

“It’s under control. He’s gonna be jus’ fine,” Red said, laying down a wet cloth on Error’s forehead before giving partial attention to their impromptu guest. “It was a medication in development. I didn’t know what the side effects were gonna be yet, but so far they seemed ta have passed. Think he jus’ passed out from exhaustion.”

Kills didn’t look reassured. He ran a hand over one of Error’s clammy shins.

“Brother,” Boss said, gathering up the mess of sheets and towels from the bed. “I’ll get an electrolyte mix from the kitchen and more blankets. Is he waking up?”

“Yeah…yeah he is. Holy shit,” Red exclaimed, hanging the bag of magic from the headboard. “Error? Can ya hear me?”

Error squinted at him, eyelights searching his face. He was incredibly disoriented. “Yes,” he croaked.

“Thank fuck,” Red breathed, petting Error’s skull.

“It was a re-reboot…I think. Hasn’t happened in a l-long time,” Error said, his voice frail.

“Reboot? Ya mean fallin’ unconscious–that’s somethin’ that’s happened in the past frequently enough that ya’ve gotta name fer it?” Red asked, his concern dissipating slightly. Error nodded tiredly.

“Used to happen…when I was young.”

Kills expression conveyed perplexion as he asked, “Ya used to pass out all the time? Before all this happened to ya?”

Error nodded. “Yep.”

“Well fuck. It’s not nice to scare a guy like that. Ya hear me? I was dead asleep and then I woke up to find out you’re out cold,” Kills rambled, clicking his tongue. “Don’t do that shit again. You’re not leaving me here alone. No way.” Kills squeezed one of Error’s hands before heading back down the hall to his bedroom. Red released a sigh.

“Ya had me thinkin’ I hurt ya.” Red sat down on the edge of the bed, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Ya know I…I’m sorry, Error. I’m just really sorry for what’s happened ta ya tonight.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” Red stated, eyelights sharp. “I’m gonna make sure ya know exactly whatcha can take next time. Hell, I’ll concoct a serum just for ya. This ain’t gonna happen again, not on my watch.”

“I’ll hold you-you to it,” Error promised, feeling returning to his hands as he reached towards Red. “M’ really cold. You mind being my furnace? Your bones are always t-toasty.”

“Uh, well, I’m sweaty. Boss is returning with blankets.”

“Don’t care. I want you over here.” Error patted the space next to him. “I’m n-not horny anymore. You cured me.”

Red snorted, laughing out loud while simultaneously feeling like he wanted to cry. He cuddled up to Error, pulling him into his chest. Error melted into him, sighing and closing his eye sockets. “I don’t wanna see that happen to ya again.”

“Touche,” Error mumbled into his clavicle. “I was just over-erloaded. That’s all…”

Error was asleep by the time Boss returned with amenities. He helped Red cover them both up, before Red grabbed his hand. He was tongue-tied, but his younger brother was more perceptive than he gave him credit for.

“You did the right thing. You don’t need to say anything,” Boss insisted. Red released a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “I know how you feel about him.” Boss considered a moment before stating, “He’s lucky to have you,”he stated, before rubbing the back of his neck, “Us.”

Red nodded, before letting him go. “G’night, Boss.”

“Sleep well, brother.” And with that, he closed the door to the bedroom, leaving Red to be soothed by Error’s gentle snores.

Chapter 7

Notes:

Hello! I hope you all are having a wonderful day/night.

Trigger Warning:
This chapter contains descriptions of self harm. If that is something that is triggering to you, please consider proceeding with caution or refraining from reading the section marked with *TW*.

Chapter Text

“I demand to be involved in Error’s case.”

Red paused, halting his sandwich's journey to his mouth. 'Hold the phone, what?' “What d’ya mean ya wanna be involved?” Red asked, his roast beef sub dripping with hot sauce and mustard finally shoved into his maw. Nightmare chuckled on the other side of the line, the voices of his butlers filling the atmosphere of his home.

“I’d like to be his sponsor. What better way to stick it to the bastards who fucked him over than to fund him?” He purred.

He sounded so smug and Red’s hackles bristled. He had to admit that having Nightmare Joku backing him would be beneficial. Not that he didn't have the money to support Error, but Nightmare was well known and had sway among many influential monsters and humans. What better way to become untouchable than to garner support from one of the slickest bastards around the tristate area?

“Uh huh. Well, that’s a thought, tentacles,” he surmised, dragging his sandwich through the spilled sauce on the plate. Vinegary, spicy goodness to saturate his palate; Red hummed as he tucked the rest of his meal into his mouth. “Though I’m feelin’ like ya want somethin’ from me in return.”

“Pft. Of course I do,” Nightmare stated. “I’ve missed Error. I'd like to know in his own words what happened. I can provide a sense of control back into his life of captivity. That is not to minimize your efforts, Fell. You’re a brilliant monster to have thought this up in the first place.”

“Sure sure. Flattery won't getcha anywhere," Red said, chuckling dryly. He sighed. "When do ya plan ta initiate this, uh, partnership?”

“I’d like to visit Error. When are you open to company, pal?” Nightmare asked, sipping on something audibly. Red picked his teeth, considering the pros and cons of having his friendly competitor over sooner than later. He sighed.

“Tomorrow. How ‘bout we do brunch?”

“It’s a date. I’ll bring along Kuroo–he’d be downright thrilled to chat with Boss. You wouldn’t mind, would you, Fell?” Nightmare asked in a velvety tone. At the mention of his name, the ever attentive Kuroo’s voice arose as he asked if his boss needed anything.

Red pinched the bridge of his nose. “Not at all. I’ll be seein’ ya, Joku.”

Error tucked the loose thread tails of the dark sweater as he closed the last of the seams. While the effects of the drug he ingested still lingered somewhere in his magic, he felt as though he was coping with the leftover symptoms much more effectively. While he scrutinized his handiwork, he acknowledged the craftsmanship of the garment. It was definitely the most intricate geometrical design on a sweater he’d ever attempted. While it wasn't perfect, he counted it as a success. Folding it into a neat square, his soul shivered at the thought of presenting it to Red.

“Error. Mornin’.”

'Speaking of the devil.' “Hey you. Work has been keep-keeping you today.” He commented, swiftly tucking the sweater under blankets next to the couch.

“Heh, yeah it has. We’ve got a visitor tomorrow. Nightmare’s droppin’ in fer brunch with one of his boys. He’s gonna discuss some details with us regardin’ a sponsorship.”

Error’s brows shot up. “Oh? He's coming here? What gi-ives?”

“I dunno. The guy misses ya, he said. Also, somethin’ tells me he’s bitter about yer accident. Prepare yerself.” He sat down on the couch, leaning back into the supple cushions. “He’ll be an asset, ya know. Another barrier between yerself and the law.”

Error nodded, chewing his lower lip. Some part of him felt anxious about seeing his other ex-employer again. “He doesn’t be-eat around the bush. I remember.”

“Heheh, no, he doesn’t. I think this’ll be good fer ya. Maybe we can push some boundaries with his assistance.”

Error’s hand hovered over the folded blanket pile which the sweater was shoved in. ‘Why is this so difficult?’ Swallowing his apprehension, he shoved his hand in, grabbing his gift for Red. Naturally, his face bloomed with embarrassment as he cleared his throat, presenting the half folded garment. “I agree. Um, b-by the way…this is fo-or you.” Smooth. Red unfolded the gift, holding it up to take in the pattern of red, black and white, noting that it appeared large enough to fit his frame. Glancing at Error then back at the sweater, he felt something especially warm culminate in his soul.

“Did...didja make this, Strings?”

“Of course I did. Where else would I have gotten it?” Error snapped before reigning his tone in. Rubbing the back of his neck, he cleared his throat. “You look good in those c-colors. Just–”

“Thank ya, sweetheart,” Red smiled–really smiled–exposing his sharky teeth and squinty eye sockets. Error committed it to memory. “Don’t think I’ve ever received such a personal gift before. I’m so fuckin’ flattered, Strings.”

“It’s no problem,” Error waved him off, his blush a beacon of emotional vulnerability. He was mentally soaring, the fact that Red liked his present a gift in and of itself. Red was looking at it like it was something precious and it was giving Error the jitters, like he might burst right out of his bones.

“I’m gonna wear it. Feel like it’ll fit like a glove,” Red said, stripping the black leather jacket and shirt for his new sweater. It was so soft against his bones, the thick material bundling him in fuzzy warmth. It was the way Red liked his shirts, form-fitting, yet just loose enough that it didn’t smother him. He looked down at himself with admiration. He felt like a million bucks. “Watcha think, bud?”

It was perfect. With the confidence Red exuded, Error was reminded of the first time they’d slept together, and the nervousness that gripped him. He felt out of his element. Red was untouchable–he could walk out the front door, go wherever he wanted in that sweater that emphasized his thick bones and leave Error to the house, which had become his entire world. His mouth was dry as he wracked his brain for something to say. What was he supposed to say? ‘I’m feeling these strange emotions, and it’s not fair! Why am I attracted to you? Stop smiling like that, and looking so perfect in that gift I gave you! Stop making me like you more, stop it, stop it, stop it–’

“Strings? Heh, hey, ya zoned out there. Am I really that nice ta look at?” Red’s eyelights were warm with familiarity, and if Error was braver, he’d have kissed him then. But instead he remained socially inept, loathing himself for it, hating that he couldn’t be numb to Red’s charms. They’d just fucked–that’s it. Now someone tell his stupid, damaged soul that, because it felt like it was going to tap dance its way out of his rib cage.

“Looks great o-o-on you,” he responded, standing up from the couch. “I'm really glad you like your gift. I, uh...I’m going to lay down. Feeling a b-bit crappy again.”

“Go on and rest up. Heh, I gotta show this ta Boss. You’ve got some real talent, Error.” He winked. “Thank you.”

Error shielded his face, disappearing into the hallway towards his old room. Slipping under the covers, his hands dipped under his clothing, finding the column of his spine, coaxing his gradually forming ecto in his pelvic cradle. In his mind’s eye, they were Red’s hands. Tugging his magic, hanging onto the frustration that arose from being unable to live like he had once been free to, he grit his teeth together, groaning aloud. Feeling adventurous, he formed a dick and wrapped his phalanges around the sensitive shaft. It reminded him of college days after classes: he'd be perched in his upper bunk bed languidly stroking himself to a burning erection, circle his thumb lazily at the head where precum beaded, teasing himself for hours until cresting in a toe-curling orgasm. He’d tried stupid things while sipping at Cross’ pale ale beers, like slicking up the non-curled ends of his thinnest crochet hooks, slipping them slowly into the opening of his cock. Cross had caught him once and they’d just stared at each other–Error gripping his sounded blue shaft and Cross’ face glowing a bright periwinkle. It was a memory they cackled over now when it happened to come up.

Jerking himself languidly, Error reached his other hand around to rub at his tight backs opening which hadn't seen action in eons. It was awkward, crooking his wrist this way and that until he got a rhythm going, fingering the slick, puckered entrance. He felt like a live wire, stilted breathing reflecting just how turned on he was by this point. He contemplated Red–throwing open one of the many large closets in the house, shoving him into it, kissing him deeply, demandingly, a large hand tracing the outline of his cunt. Ridding him of his pants in an instant, hands all over his ribcage and spine, rubbing his fantastic rouge shaft between the globes of Error’s ass. Telling him to be quiet while he fucked him or there would be consequences–there were important people visiting who could hear them. Then those large, clawed hands holding him in place, fingering his ass open while telling him how he was about to breed him, fill him up, make sure all of it stayed deep inside. Red whispering against the side of his skull as he fucked into his shivering form, Red huffing and growling like a sex-starved behemoth, and his own phalanges leaving dents in the shelving that costed more than his paychecks as a merc. He'd beg him to keep going, tears brimming in his eye sockets–he'd plead for Red to thrust deeper, harder, punish him, really show him who's boss, care about him dammit!

With a choked breath, Error climaxed hard, spilling luminescent blue magic all over his abdomen, hand milking his twitching cock for all it was worth and flexing his digits just right against the inside of his ass. All of the tension broke, leaving him gasping for breath, Red’s name fresh on his tongues. The world stood still for a few minutes, the haze of his strong orgasm pulling at the insides of his cranium like putty. Then it wore off, and he was sticky with the evidence of his emotional pining cooling on his bones. Begrudgingly, he threw the blankets off and headed to the restroom to shower.

'I'm fucking fucked.'

~

Nightmare’s tentacles and tarry bones glistened from the polish he’d used after a lengthy shower this morning. His butler was looking sharp and he’d told him so with a dazzling smile. Dressed in a deep amethyst cashmere sweater, a slate Stetson hat, and slim fitting black slacks, Kuroo cleaned up nicely. He’d smiled nervously this morning, itching to accompany Nightmare to brunch; it didn’t take a lot to excite him, since he worked where he lived, and a breath of fresh air was more than welcome.

Toting a few wine bottles as a gift, Kuroo shifted the box in his grip and rang the doorbell. He was nearly jittering out of his clothes at the anticipation of being able to chat with Boss Fell. Another foodie who knew what they were doing in the kitchen had him looking forward to this a little more than he probably should’ve been, but he didn’t have a lot of companions. Make that zero, except for Classy, and he wasn’t certain that was out of obligation or a sense of sympathy; regardless, he didn’t like taking up his time, even if he felt it was his duty to crack jokes until Kuroo was roaring with laughter. Socializing with his skull trauma was still a sore topic, (heh, cause his wound still hurt often) but he was working on getting over it.

“Welcome, boys. Come in and make yerselves comfortable,” Red said, offering to take the box of beverages from Kuroo. His guest politely refused.

“Thanks…no worries. Isn’t heavy,” Kuroo reassured.

“Suit yerself. If you’ll excuse me fer a sec, I’ll go find th’ guy ya’ve been waitin’ for. Boss, can ya call the kitchen crew? We’re not payin’ em’ to slack off.”

Boss complied, but only to indulge in Red's idea of efficiency. If Boss had it his way, he'd have them all fired and cook every meal they ate themselves. He was more than capable.

"Hello, Mr. Fell," Kuroo stated, feeling as though his voice was being sucked out of him. Red's brother was considerably taller than he remembered. Boss donned a sleek, black apron with silver studs along the waist pocket. He extended a hand in welcome to Kuroo, who gripped it firmly, offering a soft, close-mouthed smile. Kuroo’s ruby eyelight, blown wide to take up his full socket, was a stark contrast to the rest of his face. Boss supposed the other eyelight was gone permanently, as there was no hint of illumination from the dark hole in his skull.

“Call me Boss. None of that ‘Mr. Fell’ nonsense. I can’t stand it when folks call me that,” Boss stated. “That was my old man’s title. I’d rather it stayed that way.”

“I see. My name…is Kuroo,” the shorter replied, wishing in moments like these he could make his speech impediment disappear. “Nice…to meet you…Boss.”

“Nice to meet you as well, Kuroo. I’ve never heard that name before. It’s definitely one I’ll remember.”

“My parents…were too creative…for their own good,” Kuroo replied, following the ganglier Fell brother into the large kitchen. He didn’t expect to see a group of humans peering back at him. A shiver slithered up his spine, causing his bones to clatter at the joints.

“Just to humor my brother, I’ve called in some help. Not that I don’t think we could’ve handled this on our own,” Boss explained, pulling gloves over his hands and offering another pair to Kuroo. “They can prepare your station for you. At least we can save some time.”

“Su-ure,” Kuroo agreed as his assigned helpers looked back at him with expressions he couldn’t quite decipher. He didn’t want to make a big deal of his discomfort in front of Boss (the monster he admired from afar for so long and now he was certain he was going to fuck this up somehow), so he utilized his help. “Hello there…you can begin…by chopping garlic, and thy-yme. Dice it finely, please.” Kuroo instructed, and two women and a man stepped forward to do his bidding. The others followed through with Boss’ orders. Stepping aside momentarily, Kuroo removed his hat, retrieving healing balm from his pocket.

The blasted hole in his skull was notorious for becoming irritated, especially when the weather was cold and dry. It just so happened that today was particularly bad for his skull. He assumed when he left the space he was out of view of the kitchen, since treating the edges of his skull wound wasn’t something he did just anywhere. From behind him, he heard one of the assistants at his station whisper in what she probably thought was a quiet voice. It wasn’t quiet enough for Kuroo to not hear all of her words clearly. Having only half the vision he once had, his other senses had picked up the slack, giving him keen hearing.

“Holy hell, he’s got a hole in his head. Is that sanitary? It doesn’t look healed.”

Glancing over his shoulder, Kuroo clumsily pulled his hat back on, the idea of others seeing him treating his head wound uncomfortable on a visceral level. Washing his hands thoroughly and replacing his gloves, he let the words slide off of his back like water. He still felt watched, which he didn’t like, but he wouldn’t let one nosy, tactless human ruin his day. Retrieving the chopped ingredients, he ignited the flame of the gas stove, tossing a healthy helping of butter onto the warming pans surface. He loved when the butter began to sizzle.

‘Should he be allowed to use the stove?’ Another whisper behind him caught his attention, and suddenly an acrid taste flooded his mouth. Unable to focus on the simple aspects of cooking he usually took joy in, he cleared his throat, adding the herbs robotically. Sweat clung to his skull. His thoughts spiraled. 'What did they mean?' Did they think he was completely incapable because of his speech impediment? Did he really come off as that much of an idiot?

'Maybe coming here with Mr. Joku was a mistake–’ Kuroo contemplated before he was drawn away from his thoughts.

“What is your name?” Boss’ voice boomed, silencing the noise in the rest of the kitchen. Kuroo glanced over his shoulder to see the tall Fell brother looming over a human who looked thoroughly affronted.

“Isabel Marcel, at your service, sir.”

“Mhm, well Ms. Marcel, since you insisted upon running your vile mouth instead of doing your job, you’re fired.”

“W-what? Sir, I was performing the task requested–” she babbled, before Boss cut her off once more.

“And you believe that insulting my special guest is successfully doing your job? Tch, stupid girl,” he snarled. “Go and pack your things. I want you out. Let me assure you, if I find anything of mine missing from the apartment, I will press charges. I’m not a cheap monster, either. You don’t want to be in my debt darling,” he chuckled dryly. “I always collect interest.”

“Y-yes, sir.” The woman left her kitchen uniform and tools before quickly departing in a rush. The other assistants in the kitchen didn’t bat an eye, instead focusing upon Boss’ orders as they were given. Before Kuroo had a moment to collect his thoughts, Boss was next to him at the stove.

“I’m sorry for the absolute lack of tact exhibited by that imbecile. Obviously there was a mistake made when hiring her. I hope you aren’t completely put off of cooking with me.”

Pushing the simmering garlic and herbs around the pan, Kuroo reached for the succulent meat, opting for the cutlets of lamb. “It’s alright…it was her-er decision to…be rude. It doesn’t reflect…upon you.”

“I won’t stand for slander like that in my kitchen. The Great and Terrible Papyrus will not let the Fell household be a place hosting toxicity, thank you very much!” Boss hit a gloved fist against his spiked apron, his conviction bringing a smile to Kuroo’s face. He really liked that title. And the fact that he referred to himself in third person. ‘Heh, what a wonderful guy.’

“Thanks. I like your name…a lot. It’s nice.”

“Why thank you! I think it’s respectable as well. Do you intend on using the oven?” He asked, hesitating in reaching for the gauge to ignite the heat. Kuroo shook his skull, placing the lamb cutlets into his well seasoned pan. “Then I’ll make use of it. I look forward to tasting your food, Kuroo.”

“The feeling…is mutual, Papyrus.”

~

Red went to retrieve Error while Kills sat with Nightmare Joku in the living room. His fascination upon Nightmare’s arrival was palpable, and he’d promptly invited himself to occupy a seat where he could observe the tentacle clad monster. Red didn’t need to look far for Error, because said skeleton nearly walked right into him as he opened the laboratory door.

“Woah there–Strings, ya need ta get dressed. Nightmare’s here.”

Error’s face fell. “What? N-now?”

“Yeah, right now, c’mon,” Red said, ushering Error towards his bedroom. “Shit, uh, let’s see. Let’s get you put together.” He rummaged through some items, creating a cohesive outfit in a matter of seconds. Error was stripping off his lounge clothes, dabbing at the places on his bones where magic had dribbled from his soul port. “Here. This’ll look great on ya.”

Error didn’t question it, just pulled the soft, long sleeve shirt on, zipped up his form fitting, tapered slacks, and ran a damp cloth over his skull, picking any stray strings away from the stripes on his face.

“Oka-ay. Lead the way.”

Nightmare’s presence was just as imperious as he remembered it to be. He immediately stood, the four of his tentacles twisting as he approached Error with an unreadable expression. Error could smell his ex-boss’ cologne, the aroma reminding him of being seated in his gothic manor’s living room.

“As I understand, things have gone to shit. Tell me about it.”

Error didn’t know what to say initially, so he settled on silently following Nightmare to the comfy chairs where drinks had been poured. Seeing Kills trail Nightmare with his empty sockets like he was in the presence of a god would’ve been comical if Error wasn’t sweating bullets. The voices of Kuroo and Boss resonated from the kitchen, the scent of the cooking food promising good brunch.

“I don’t know if you realized,” Nightmare stated, the corner of his mouth twitching, “That I was left to draw my own conclusions from what little information Cross supplied me,” Nightmare explained. “So clearly, I’d like to hear it from you. What actually happened on the job? And why did I hear only bits and pieces of it from Cross?”

Error opened his mouth, before shutting it, looking over at Red in his comfy leather chair as though he’d be able to help. It had been so long since he’d actually considered everything in so much detail. He needed something else to focus on other than their eyes on him. Swiping his digits down his cheeks, he gathered tethers of strings as he chewed the moist bone inside of his cheek. Too bad the strings frayed, snapping like weak rubber bands. His magic wasn't even close to strong enough to support the thread. He frowned, hastily brushing the remnants off of his fingers and onto his pant leg.

“He was having issues with his weap-eapon. I offered to help him recalibrate it. He refused, but I insisted,” Error cleared his thickening voice, “And then his gun fired. That’s what happened.”

Nightmare’s aura was a turbulent, heavy thing. One of his tentacles sent a glass tumbling off of the coffee table as it responded to his darkening emotions.

“Don’ worry ‘bout the glass,” Red reassured him, snapping his cigarette case shut.

“Why wasn’t I contacted?” Nightmare growled, tentacles spilling over and around the seat he took up. It took mental effort to keep them from lashing his tentacles in his ire, but the monster was well versed in controlling his temper. Being in a confined space, on the other hand, was something he wasn’t as used to–his home ceilings were high for a reason. “So he just happened to mishandle the tool he was supposed to have mastered years ago? By chance alone, happened to shoot you? Why the fuck didn’t you alert me to the fact that he was a literal danger to you? What were you thinking?”

Red blew a plume of smoke into the air, one of his eyelights absent. One of his hands gripped the arm of the leather chair he sat in.

“Not to mention, you lied to me,” Nightmare snapped. “I was so open with you. Transparency is what I expected in return. You didn’t think to inform me you worked for him? That you were running yourself ragged, putting yourself in jeopardy by taking on excess work–I would have respected your wishes to extend your services elsewhere. Hearing it now, though, what else should I be aware of, other than the fact that a monster I respected lied to my face?” Nightmare sighed.

“Goin’ heavy handed aren’t ya?” Red interjected, eyeing Error’s second potential sponsor. Nightmare was unphased, ignoring Red’s comment for the real source of his interest.

“So, what’s the damage?” He asked, eyelight trained solely on Error.

“A go-good portion of my soul is missing. Heh, it was blown open, l-literally,” Error said, voice trailing off. He swallowed, noting how clammy he’d gotten since they’d sat down. He’d been a witness to Nightmare’s meetings that devolved into the tentacled monster’s temper flaring. Being on the receiving end of Nightmare’s anger wasn’t a position he ever envisioned himself. It rattled him to the core. “Was apparently like splintered wood, just shredded–explains why I couldn’t stop the bleeding, or catch my breath.” There was silence, save for the voices from the kitchen. Boss was admiring something Kuroo was doing as part of the meal, and the deep timbre of Kuroo’s voice held a note of delight. Glancing up, he caught Nightmare’s shocked expression, and he was unsure of what to say. He cleared his throat. “So, uh, as of right n-now, I’m taking magic infusions. My magic fluctuates throughout the day. It’s better than it was, but it’s not great.”

“You act so calm. He ruined your life. Because you settled for appeasing me, and the idiot that was referred to me, your life is in shambles,” Nightmare stated flatly, voice deadly serious. He snarled, magic taut like a bowstring. “I could’ve had the cops who ripped you out of that hospital strung up by the balls. You would’ve been out of prison the day they incarcerated you! If you’d just contacted me sooner, things could’ve been different.”

“That’s a-fuckin’-nough.” Red stood, putting out his lit cigarette in his drink. “Ya think he considered becomin’ disabled ‘fore this all happened? Quit yer victim blamin’ and bitchin’ about shit he can’t change. The hell is wrong with you?”

“He can speak for himself, Fell. He doesn’t need you to fight his battles for him,” Nightmare hissed.

Error considered it as the two glared at one another. All he had to do was reach out; Nightmare was a phone call away. Blue had abandoned him at the hospital and he’d been alone, consumed by his emotional turmoil accompanying abandonment. Time had moved so slowly then. Why hadn’t he called? Opening his mouth to respond, he was promptly cut off.

“Ya know this ain’t about takin’ over his autonomy,” Red growled, the smoke turning his blazing eyelight hazy. His lip curled in a snarl as he narrowed his eye sockets at Nightmare. He was tired of this one sided conversation already, and they’d barely even scratched the surface. “Ya come in here and ask stupid shit when the answer’s right in front of ya. Open yer fuckin’ eye socket, man!”

“Brunch…is ready,” Kuroo announced before realizing he’d interrupted a tense moment. Error’s skull whipped around, and he was met with Kuroo frozen in the doorway. Holding up his hands, ducking his head, and uttering a ‘sorry’ upon noticing his boss’ posture, the cook stumbled. His hat slipped off of his head, hitting the ground with a pronounced ‘thunk’. Kuroo’s face was as red as the cabernet staining his apron. Nightmare used a tentacle to retrieve the cap, lifting it back to his butler’s fractured cranium.

“No harm done, Kuroo. Thank you for letting us know. We’ll be in momentarily,” Nightmare reassured him, very aware of his live-in chef’s insecurities. Kuroo nodded, and left the room, securing his hat over his skull. “Error–” Nightmare started, before realizing the object of his focus was missing, “Where is he?” He scanned the room, but he was gone. He looked to Red, who wiped a hand over his face, pinching his nasal ridge. Kills reached for another full cup of whiskey to compliment his steady buzz from the first.

“Maybe he’s hungry,” Red stated sarcastically, knowing full well how untrue that was. He made his way to the kitchen with his and Error’s drink glasses, noting that Error hadn’t touched the chardonnay he’d poured. Nightmare remained in the living room, tentacles lashing in frustration.

“Drink?” Kills offered, holding out an untouched drink to the seething Mr. Joku, whose teal eyelight was bright enough to torch a man. Nightmare tilted his skull.

“Hm, no. I have standards when it comes to what I imbibe.” At the slight shift in the other’s expression, Nightmare countered his previous statement with, “Listen, I’m a vintner. Let me show you quality wine.”

“Oh?” Kills smirked, his forehead relaxing. He set down the glass. “Please do, Mr. Joku.”

“What is your name?” Nightmare asked, finding himself curious as to why he couldn’t find eyelights in the other’s empty orbital sockets.

“I used to be called Killer, Mr. Joku, but I prefer Kills. Tryin’ to improve as a monster n’ all.” He smiled and Nightmare picked up on all of the nuances behind that cutting smile. He related to it on a visceral level.

“I see. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Kills. I’d like you to try this,” Nightmare stated, pouring a glass of his black, cidery beverage.

“Tsk, my my, well aren’t you a gent?” Kills observed the dark liquid, which reminded him of the night sky. He took a sip, and his magic swelled when he swallowed, his entire being accepting the smooth mouthful. Looking up at Nightmare, he hummed in delight. “Oho ooh, you’re good.”

Nightmare smiled back at him. “You have no idea.”

~

*TW: Description of self harm*

Error hoped he hadn't let onto the fact that he’d made a mad dash to the restroom. He needed an out, an escape from questions he didn’t have straight answers to. He rummaged through the drawers on Red’s side of the double vanity sink, hands shaking as the idea of losing Red’s trust after living with him, sleeping with him, becoming closer–maybe too close to him, left him on the verge of panic. Wrapping his tri-color digits around the smooth hilt of Red’s switchblade, he flipped it open, resting the honed edge against his upper femur.

He applied steady pressure, dragging it across the black surface. Dark marrow beaded up as the laceration was elongated, the bite of the blade so cold and jarring his breath hiccupped its way back out of his mouth. He repeated the action a few more times, finding untouched bone to slice. Overwhelming and simultaneously not enough, the wounds he inflicted offered a distraction from the steady buildup of panic. Then he sat, closing his eyes as the magic turned blood lazily dripped, the sting dulling to a constant throb.

All of this time, he’d acknowledged he was screwed health wise. His soul was fucked–there were limitations on his existence now, and yet he’d never thought of himself as disabled. But it was true, he was, and it left him feeling things he could have gone his entire life without.

He must’ve lost track of time, because there was a firm knock on the restroom door. The knife clutched in his hand clattered to the ground, conveniently into the growing puddle of marrow and magic. It splattered on the powder room toilet and against the small room’s walls. ‘Shit. Bravo, Error, you fucking idiot. Now he’s going to know what you were up to, stupid shit.’

“Hey, Strings. Y’okay?” Red asked. Of course Red would come looking for him, what the fuck did he think was going to happen? He was supposed to be out there explaining why he hadn’t contacted Nightmare, why he lied, and why he kept so much under lock and key in the past. Instead, he’d fled like a coward. “Error?”

“I’m fi-fine. Just, uh–” he swallowed. “You don’t need t-t-to worry.” ‘So reassuring.’

“I know it got a little intense out there. It’s alright ta be anxious–it's completely understandable, ya know? Yer not alone, a’right? M’ not gonna let im walk all over ya.”

“Heheh, yeah, y-you could tell, huh?” Error’s voice glitched as he wiped the floor while also smashing a handful of toilet paper to his sticky thigh bone. Cursing himself for making his life harder, he tried to track down every bloodied spot on the lower section of the walls. When everything was mopped up to the best of his ability, he inspected his leg. His marrow had clotted enough so that it wasn’t actively bleeding and he sighed in relief before flushing the toilet napkins down. “You’re right. And uh, I ha-ad an inconvenient magic bleed,” he said as he presented his hand, which was a sticky indigo. Red’s brow furrowed.

*TW*

“Wha–ya lost magic? Error, thas not good,” Red insisted, gravelly voice firm. “Ya really okay? Don’t play with me, Strings,” he warned.

Running his hands under water, Error clicked his tongues. “Yes, I’m fine. My nasal aperture leaked magic, I wa-as just stressed. All good,” he lied, drying his trembling hands. “So, uh, brunch, right?”

Red smiled softly, the expression one of Error’s favorites. His soul hurt in a way that wasn’t physical.

“Yeah. C’mon, sweetheart. Lucky you, ya got a seat right next ta mine.”

“What d’ya know,” Error mimicked the larger monster’s accent, earning a laugh from him. “Ya shoulda told me sooner. Maybe I would’ve been there earlier if I knew I’d-d have such a special spot at the table.”

“Oh stop, yer flatterin’ me.” Red laughed. “Ya need ta eat, ya hear? Not gonna let ya slip away until I know ya’ve actually had somethin’. Can’t have ya witherin’ away on me.”

Error sighed. “Fine. Fi-i-ine.”

“Found him, boys,” Red stated, as though he was speaking with a party he was entertaining. Error rolled his eyelights and sat down. He caught sight of a very inebriated Kills sitting near Nightmare, nursing a cup of his new favorite beverage while sneaking not-so-subtle glances at the vintner.

“I realize I struck a nerve.” Nightmare eyed him. “But unfortunately I’m not here to tell you what you want to hear.”

“I’m fine,” Error said, voice clipped as he stirred his coffee. He was aware of Kuroo observing him with his large, crimson eyelight. The pinprick pupil was intense, and it made him feel pressured to at least try the food in front of him.

“I heard you…liked chocolate,” Kuroo said, the baritone of his voice attention grabbing. Error nodded. “The croissant has…da-dark chocolate inside. Made them earlier this morning.”

Error located the sweet, and took a bite of the wonderfully layered, buttery pastry. Sure enough, he hit the chocolate inside, the consistency smooth and tantalizing. He hummed his enjoyment. “It’s delicious. W-wow, I mean, really, really good.”

Kuroo grinned. “I’m glad you like…like it.”

Error inhaled the croissant, grabbing for another before asking if anyone else was interested. Given the go ahead, he enjoyed the pastry slowly, sipping coffee in between bites. Boss seemed thrilled to have Kuroo present, his signature grimace a fraction softer and his posture less rigid. When Kuroo smiled, squinting his large eye socket, the edge Boss’ mouth twitched upward in response. Not to mention Boss had given Kuroo compliments on his food–a monumental sign of respect from the younger Fell. Red’s brows had risen as he peered over at his brother. Kuroo’s blush was impossible to hide.

“Heh, nonsense. Your dish…outdid mine,” he responded, chuckling nervously.

“Tch. Don’t be so humble. You should know your fare is delicious–you’re Mr. Joku’s personal chef for fuck’s sake.”

“It is true,” Nightmare hummed, enjoying his butler’s food as he always did. Kuroo had a talent in the kitchen–it would be criminal to deny that. “Kuroo’s humility is deeply ingrained. He can stand to learn a little about the true quality of his cooking.”

“I don’t see why you’re so shy with an ability like that I–well, I’d like to know how you did it, Kuroo,” Boss admitted honestly. Kuroo didn’t know how to respond, covering his face with a large hand. He was used to Mr. Joku’s kindness, but he wasn’t used to receiving praise from others. His spine tingled with embarrassment. “I understand if you don’t want to reveal the secrets to your methods.”

“I’ll…show you. Just flattered,” Kuroo reassured, removing his hand from his face. He hadn’t expected the younger Fell brother to be so…kind. His reputation precedes him as a fierce, no nonsense monster with sway in the legislation of laws between human and monster kind. What Kuroo was witnessing was an aggressively caring, competent individual who was passionate about his interests. What a guy. “Is it really…that good?”

“Ye-e-es,” Error piped up, chewing a mouthful of meat from his plate. It was tender enough to melt in his mouth, savory and balanced in its wine based gravy. “It’s delicious. I’d eat this everyday if I co-ould.”

Red's brows shot up in surprise at that. Error's appetite definitely did not disappoint today. He felt a distinct warmth culminating in his soul as he watched him enjoy the fare.

“Error is as finicky as they come, and he’s devouring your food. And he doesn’t eat anything. This should be proof enough how talented you are,” Boss insisted. Kuroo snorted.

“Alright, a-alright. My food…is good. Are you happy?”

Boss smiled, his sharp teeth accented by the warm light above. “Yes, very.”

“So, Error,” Nightmare said, instantly drawing the other’s attention, “You were going to tell me about what kept you from contacting me. You’ve kept me on the edge of my seat thus far.” Tone dripping with sarcasm, he cut his lamb, chasing the sauce around on the plate before chewing clinically, eyeing Error all the while.

Error set down his silverware, opting instead for his coffee. He needed it for this. “I was comatose. I wasn’t exactly enjoyi-ing free reign of my cell phone while unconscious.”

The twitch of Nightmare’s tentacles was a telltale sign he wasn’t pleased with Error’s response. ‘Too bad’ Error thought, taking a long gulp of his coffee. Let him stew in his feelings. ‘Heh. Stew.’

“For how long?” Nightmare asked, voice stoney.

“I don’t exactly remember it d-day by day,” Error remarked, irritation and anxiety prickling along his spine. “Ask the hospital, or Cross. I’m sure he’d rem-em-ember every minute of it.”

“So much could’ve been prevented had you been honest about having multiple employers, Dust’s lack of skill, and the secrets you kept under wraps. You’re weighed down by the lies you’ve woven, Error. At this point, I don’t know what to believe from you.”

“Fa-a-air. I won’t refute it, I’ve lied to you. And you,” he pointed his empty fork at Red, who was more focused on the fact that Nightmare was stirring the pot now of all times. Kills, who was drunk enough by now that reading the room was futile, played with the end of one of Nightmare’s tentacles as it twisted around his phalanges. “You don’t have to stick by me. I’m a monster without self gen-enerating magic. I’m literally an example for you to display for others of ‘What not to Do’,” Error stated, certain that he was feeling light-headed because he was speaking passionately. “You came here to clear the air, and he-ere it is from my mouth: I fucked up. Are you happy now?”

Momentary silence was broken as Nightmare chuckled dryly. “You’ve got the wrong idea. Do you think I attended brunch with you because I wanted to rub your face in your mess?”

Error sighed. Fatigue was hitting him hard, and he stood from the table, picking up his plate of half-finished food. “I need t-ti-time to myself. Don’t wait for me.”

“Is...that blood?” Kuroo asked, halting Error in his journey to the sink.

“What?” He asked, soul feeling like it had fallen out of his ribcage and into his pelvic cradle.

“You’re blee-eeding. Back of…your pant leg,” Kuroo pointed out, brows pinched in concern. Error turned to look, and sure enough, right where he’d cut on his femur had been agitated and dripped down, soaking his pant leg. Perfect. Just what he needed right now.

“Oh…so there is.” He plopped his dishes in the sink, making his way out of the kitchen hurriedly. If only he could teleport. He missed that ability like crazy.

“Error.” Red’s voice echoed in the hallway, not too far behind him. He was concerned, and rightly so after his hasty retreat. “C’mon, don’t do this–”

Closing the restroom door in Red’s bedroom, he locked it, and began to strip his pants. The cut was oozing, wet with magic and blood. The sensation of it sticky in the fabric of his trousers was one that made his absent gut turn. Red’s tone reflected the fact that he wasn’t happy with Error’s choice to lock him out. Error didn’t blame him–it was his restroom.

“Strings, what the fuck is goin’ on? Open the door, dammit!”

“N-no,” he shot back, wiping the blood from his femur, rinsing the encrusted blood from Red’s switchblade, and contemplating what to do with his pants. This was pointless. What was he doing? This was chaotic and nonsensical, but for some reason, he had thought it would work out. Fumbling with the blade, he earned himself another few shallow cuts as the thing clattered to the floor. He cursed under his breath.

Dizzily picking it up, he realized the blade’s edge had bitten into his trembling phalanges, and he loathed himself in that moment. 'Fucking fuck!’ This was his low point. He used to be able to handle himself, and now he was fumbling with a stupid pocket knife. He casted it into the sink, gripping his searing metacarpals.

The lock of the door was dislodged, scaring Error enough to send him stumbling on the glossy floors, the soles of his shoes no match against the bloody mixture. Red Fell had never looked more imposing than in that moment. Ever observant, he glanced from Error to the bloody sink before his expression darkened.

"The fuck were ya doin'?" Red snarled, down on his level in an instant. "You were cutting yerself, weren't ya? That's what's been happenin'." He shook his head, grabbing Error’s forearm to get a good look at his wounded hand. "What the hell were ya thinkin'?"

Error didn’t have an adequate response. He was mortified that it had come to this...that he'd caused this situation. Red was looking at his femur, the open cuts drawing his attention. Red's eyelight held pity behind that glare he was leveling him with. Even though he was livid, his large, clawed hands were gentle, stifling the blood tinged magic coming from his femur. His rings were slick with cloying fluid, and Error watched the metallic shine become mattified, like moss covered stones after a lengthy drought.

"Are ya even listenin' ta me?" Red snapped, bristling with fury. "Do you wanna die? Is dat it? Cause that’s what's gonna happen if ya continue like this. Yer soul isn't strong 'nough fer this shit!"

Boss' voice echoed throughout the restroom as he checked in on his brother and Error. Things had gotten tense, and with the way Error was bleeding, he was certain there was something wrong. He was right. "Brother, what's wrong–and that's a lot of blood."

"Boss, can ya help me take him down? He needs a transfusion. It can't wait, he needs it now."

In an instant, Error was lifted by Boss, Red’s jacket swaddling his lower half. The world spun, especially from this height, where the ground shifted like quicksand below with Boss’ long strides. And look at that, he was finally able to look down on Nightmare Joku, who just happened to be hastily approaching to see for himself what the situation had devolved into. Mouth tugging into a thin smile devoid of joy, Error groggily held up a middle phalange, disappearing from sight as Boss quickly descended the stairs of the lab. Error was foggy-skulled, swept into a chaotic state reminiscent of a waking nightmare. By the time they reached the bottom, and Error's coccyx met the cold metal, he was curled on his side, sucking breath past his teeth, wheezing pitifully.

Maybe Red would throw him out of his home after all–abandon him in the woods and let him wander. Freezing air chilling his joints, causing his bones to clatter together.

Blue, the good-for-nothing monster would be able to find him then. With no means to defend himself, no more fight left in his failing frame–he’d be useless, friendless, completely and utterly alone. Then there would be unwanted phalanges, skittering like thick, segmented centipede legs inside the hem of his pants, touching him where he didn’t want it ever from Blue, not again!

“Stop,” he warned, voice hollow. Blue smiled that smile that he used to find gorgeous. Instead of fluttering, soft and giddy sensations, his soul lurched. The expression that had him easy like putty in Blue’s grip, and willing to spread his legs. “No, sto-o0p!”

“You might have them fooled, but you’re not fooling me, pretty boy. You liked it. You like what I did to you, and you like what I do to you in your dreams,” Blue purred, his presence choking as he palpated Error’s sensitive insides. He felt sick. He was going to be sick.

“I hate you,” Error stated through gritted teeth. “You’re vile, incompet-etent, and disgusting. You u-used me…”

“I think you’re guilty about the fact that you’ve been fooling around with Fell. I could smell him on you, you know?” Blue hissed, his touch becoming painful as he jabbed phalanges into the soft inner lining of Error’s ecto. Error tensed, the ache rippling through his sex. “This is always going to be our little secret, isn’t it? The big oaf in your stupid sweater won’t ever know you’re obsessing over what we had in his laboratory, what I mean to you–”

“Shut up shutupShuTup!” Error yelled, shoving outward as hard as he could. A grunt had his eye sockets squinting open in alarm. To his left was Red, eyelight glowing as he neared with caution.

“Wasn’t expectin’ that kinda reaction, sweetheart. Heh. Didn’t mean ta spook ya.”

Error’s tongues felt glued to his hard palate. He turned his head, stating, “Thought you were someone el-else…”

“Yeah?” Red’s voice was a low, comforting rasp, and Error sighed in contentment at the sound. “Well, lucky fer you it’s just good ol’ me.” He sat down next to the table where Error had been covered by a heavy blanket to stave off the cold. Red released a lengthy sigh. “We need to talk, Strings.”

Error’s soul nearly stilled. “Ok.” He looked down as shame burned his cervical vertebrae.

“I’m not gonna leave ya alone after what happened tonight–at least not ‘til we get some things figured out. So, in short, ya’ve lost some privileges,” Red stated, eyelights like embers.

Error’s head felt full of cotton. He tugged himself closer to Red, until he was near enough that he could reach the other without straining. Red looked confused as he studied Error. His words were stolen from him as he was silenced by Error’s soft mouth pressed against his own. Error’s mind soared with the fact that Red wasn’t finished with him, that he hadn’t fucked up badly enough that his support system had crumbled. Coaxing a wickedly sweet sound from Red, he rested his skull against his broad clavicle, nuzzling into the warmth of his bones.

“What dy’a doin’, Strings?” Red asked softly, brows furrowing. Error’s hands slotted themselves inside of the other’s jacket, fingers playing with his scarred lower ribs.

“Trying to say sor-sorry,” Error stated so quietly he wasn’t sure if Red heard. Regardless, the blanket was pulled over him as Red draped his arms around him.

This was good. Things might be alright.

Chapter Text

Kills didn’t bother to hide his obvious swooning over Mr. Nightmare Joku. The monster had led him to his bedroom later on in the day after he’d finished off the bottle (plus a little more alcohol), laid him down in his bed, and tucked him under the thick, downy blanket. Kills had just offered a dopey, drunk smile and squeezed the tentacle he’d been holding onto at the time. Nightmare had taken a seat close to the bed, offering him a glass of water while answering the idle questions Kills came up with as his lightless eye sockets grew heavy with exhaustion. And he hadn’t even gotten the monster’s number. It was a damn shame. On the other hand, he knew he’d been drunk enough to miss Error slicing and dicing his bones, which he regretted. He wished he'd been there to support him, but he knew he wouldn't have been much help in his inebriated state.

Error approached Red at a natural break in his work day. He knew he sat down with a glass of scotch at 3pm in his office, so without giving himself any excuses, he sat down next to him on the couch in that room. It wasn’t his room of choice, being dark in atmosphere and slightly claustrophobic in comparison to those in the rest of the mansion.

“Good afternoon. How’s yer day been?” Red asked, cracking a lazy grin. Error’s soul felt as though it was going to strangulate itself before imploding as he mustered the courage to spill his guts.

“I need to t-tell you something...that I should've never kept from you,” he began, hating the glitches riddling his voice. Red’s brows rose as he set down his drink.

“That's a heavy admission. Aight, I’m listenin’.”

“Mr. Swap…he wasn’t a stra-anger to me. We’d been seeing each other before he became my case-caseworker,” Error admitted, shame creeping up his cervical vertebrae and to his face. “I don’t know what we were before, but we we-ere involved–”

“Woah woah, what? By not tellin’ me this shit, ya put me in the position of not bein' able to do jack shit,” Red exclaimed, scowl replacing his default warm expression he usually had around Error.

“I realize that now,” Error said. “When I f-first arrived here, I wasn’t thinking clearly. I was in an en-entirely different headspace, I can’t gi-give you a rational explanation, Red!”

“Ya kept from me the fact that he stalked ya here, then went on an' abused ya. We coulda had this in an’ outa court, I could have had his ass incarcerated by now!” Red snarled, clenching his fists in frustration. “I can’t fuckin’ believe you, Error. I’m tryin’ my fuckn' hardest to help ya, putin’ my neck on the line and ya ain’t even tryin’ ta help yerself. Why?” Error didn’t have an answer for that. Red hit the couch cushion between them. “I’m tired of the lyin’. Tell me these things, dammit!”

“I was ash-ashamed, alright? I wasn’t sure I’d be able ta get a replacement caseworker and I pan-pan-panicked, thought I might get sent back to prison! It made sense at the time, I don’t know why–”

“Don’t keep makin’ me watch ya self-destruct, ya fuckin’ fool! Let me help ya, help me to help you, Strings!” Red was gripping his shoulders, fiery eyelight piercing his own. “Yer gonna fall down at this rate, ya know? I can’t always fix yer problems, s’pecially if yer lyin' ta me.”

Error nodded, lower jaw trembling even when he actively tried to stop it. “You’re right,” Error stated. It was so uncharacteristic that Red just looked at him. The larger skeleton let go, before swiping his drink up, and walking out without another word. Error was certain he’d gone too far, but it was necessary evil at the time. While a weight had been lifted from him at having finally come clean, he felt Red’s absence acutely.

Red poured himself another drink, grumbling as he grabbed meat and spicy mustard from the fridge. Slapping together an impromptu sandwich, he ate it in a few bites before downing the alcohol. He grimaced, setting the glass down. He didn’t want to be shit-faced. Knocking on his brother’s office door, Red fiddled with the rings on his left hand, sweat prickling at his skull. There was a sigh from the other side, and the sound of approaching footsteps. Upon the door opening, Boss glowered down at his older brother.

“And to what do I owe this untimely visit?”

“I need ta talk to ya. Do ya have a moment?” Red itched at the back of his cervical vertebrae. “S’ important.”

“Ugh. Fine. Take a seat, brother.”

Red plopped himself down across from Boss, feeling the buzz from the alcohol but unable to enjoy it. ‘Fuck. Why’d ya have ta lay all that on me, Strings?’ He felt ill at the thought of Error’s ex abusing him for months. The fact that Error had known the sick fuck made it all the worse in Red's mind. He felt responsible for his prolonged suffering, even if he couldn't have known.

“What is it that’s bothering you?” Boss asked as he sat in his deep red, velvet office chair. It had always reminded Red of a throne. So very fitting of his little bro.

“So ya know that disgustin’ creep of a caseworker, Swap? Guy that fuckin’ used ‘im fer months? Yeah, he an’ Error knew each other before that happened,” Red explained.

“That…is extremely disturbing. Were they involved?”

“Dunno, Boss. Point is he refrained from tellin’ me. If I’d known, I coulda had this handled, I woulda had that guy’s skull rollin’ across the laboratory floor–”

“He's mentally unwell, brother, not to mention he was in a very precarious position,” Boss pointed out. “How much did he tell you?”

“I–” Red paused, thinking about it. He’d gotten angry, yelled, then departed. He sighed. “Not much. Just admitted that they’d known each other. He seemed resigned, but I was fumin’, I had ta get out. Pissed me off that the obsessive fucker pretended ta be somethin’ he wasn’t ta get ta Strings.”

“While he didn’t tell us the whole story, this isn’t a time for getting wrapped up in your hurt feelings. He probably feels shame surrounding this entire situation, brother. He needs someone to listen to him,” Boss stated, tapping the polished surface of his mahogany desk. “Make him feel wanted. Come. We’re going to find him.”

“Huh?! Right now?” Red stiffened, unsure that he wanted to return to the monster he’d just fled from. Boss didn’t give him a choice in the matter though, glaring at him until he rose from the chair. “I dunno, I made a point ta–”

“Yes right now, I don’t care what excuses you have. You’re going to talk to him and make certain he understands that you won’t hold a grudge. Don’t you dare, by the way, or you’ll have me to answer to,” Boss hissed, his hold on Red’s jacket all but dragging him along.

“A’ight, okay, Boss, just calm down–”

“Tsk. He came clean to you, and you acted like the victim? What did you expect, he’s a former murder for hire, his job entailed being an archivist of lies,” Boss snarled.

“I get it. Ya’ve driven the point home,” Red assured him, holding his hands up defensively.

“Do you really?” Boss spat. “I don’t think you do. Error! Error?! Where are you?”

A door opened at the far end of the hall and Error peeked out into the hallway at Boss, wide-eyed. He wasn’t expecting to see both brothers quickly approaching, Red being roughly shoved through the corridor by his sibling. Error retreated, leaving the door ajar as Boss pushed Red into the guest room, eyelights glowing a fierce scarlet. Red swatted at his younger brother, barking ‘Quit it, will ya?’ before his focus centered on Error standing in his original bedroom (not tucked in his arms, pressed against his sternum, where he should be). There were some clothing items he’d collected and dropped in a pile on the floor, ones that used to line Red’s drawers because Error spent the night so often with him in his bed, it was only practical. The thought of him moving his things back to this room caused Red’s soul to clench in hurt.

“You needed me-e?” Error asked, waiting for an explanation. It was odd that Boss decided to come in as well. He wasn’t exactly the fondest of him, Error knew, but Error would try to be cordial if Boss was making an effort. Their relationship was progressing gradually, but Error wouldn’t quite call him a friend. He didn’t dislike him any longer, but he didn’t seek out Boss’ presence.

“My idiot brother informed me that you knew Mr. Blue Swap before he was your caseworker,” Boss stated, not beating around the bush. Red’s expression turned sour.

“Boss, ya can’t just–”

“I can, and I will.” He focused his bright red eyelights on Error, face giving nothing away. “While it’s unfortunate that you didn’t say anything sooner, there is no need to estrange yourself from us.”

Error was lost for words. Hearing Blue’s name, even phrased so formally, felt like sandpaper against the insides of his sternum. So this was a game of telephone, was it? He narrowed his eye sockets at Red, who had caught onto the fact that Error wasn’t very happy about having their conversation aired like dirty laundry. “So tha-at’s it? Red’s apologizing through you?” He asked, watching the shorter of the brothers closely.

“I can speak fer myself, dammit,” Red bit out. “N’ no, my reaction was appropriate. When yer sittin’ on a throne of lies, it tends ta make people around ya hesitant ta help ya out.”

Boss thunked Red upside the skull harshly before hissing out, “You’re a moron.” Turning to Error, he scowled. “I’m not apologizing on his part, although I do disagree with how he handled the situation.”

“Ain’t any more a moron than yerself, Boss. Fuck off,” he said, baring his teeth. Error crossed his arms over his sternum.

“Take a walk in my sh-shoes, Red. Then tell me how I should’ve behaved. I could’ve kept it under lo-lock and key for a lot longer,” Error stated, tone frigid. There was an uncomfortable silence for a moment before Boss initiated the conversation once more.

“I don’t think less of you.”

Error quirked a brow. “Really?”

“Truthfully.” Boss stepped forward, trying not to loom over Error. “If you’d like to talk, you can, but I won’t make you.”

Error pondered. He really didn’t want to be alone at the moment. So he took Mr. Tall and Edgy up on his request for sitting down and talking. Red appeared exasperated, and that made Error tense. Boss being present there was oddly helpful, and at the same time confusing. Why did he care if Red was angry at him? Error thought he would be delighted at such an outcome, at least he would've been in the past, when he thought he deserved it. But now...

“I’m not sure wha-at I should be saying. Blue Swap was at my bedside while I was rec-recovering at the hospital. I thought he–” Error swallowed dryly, shrugging out of habit. “Well, I th-thought he cared.”

“Someone who cared fer ya wouldn’ do what he did,” Red snapped, eyelights blazing.

“If you’d let me-e-e finish,” Error snarled, tongues curling behind his canines, “Then you’d know I was about to say ‘maybe he cared in the past’. I don’t fucking know why he stayed in the hospital with me, t-talked about how I me-meant something to him." He began to become choked up as the dormant pain of abandonment reared its ugly head.

“Monsters change,” Boss expressed, much more collected than the others. “Sometimes it takes time to see someone’s true colors. It can be hard to identify the toxic from the good intentions, especially if there are deeper feelings involved.”

“Maybe ya just didn’t recognize the red flags. It jus’ kills me! When you were here, sleepin’ in my bed, fuckin’ me n’ givin’ me false info, were ya even thinkin’?” Red asked, lighting a cigar to smoke. Boss wrinkled his nasal ridge at the scent. Error glared daggers at Red.

“Do you think this is funny? My constant degradation, the lo-loss of my dignity down there–the fact that I’m fucKing disabled now?!” Error yelled, standing in a startlingly quick movement that had his skull throbbing at the suddenness. “I screamed your name from your lab! Bet you didn’t know that, huh? Heh. Heh heh. I had feelings for him once, sure, b-but I didn’t ask this new version of Bl-Blue to shove his hand down my pants and his tong-gue into my throat. Get over yourself, Red.”

Red felt the discussion falling apart, and in a last ditch effort to reign it back in, he called out, “Strings, wait, listen I–”

“Don’t ‘Strings’ m-me. That’s all you’re getting from me. Figure the rest out on your o-o-Own if you know why I did what I d-did.” Error retreated back the way he came, holding his breath through the corridor as tears accumulated too quickly to stifle.

“Fuck.” Red pinched his nasal ridge. Boss glowered at his older brother, sympathy for Red’s antics ran dry.

“Put on your big boy pants and have some tact, brother. Kuroo is coming over to cook in the near future, so preferably fix yourself before then.”

“Great advice, Boss.”

“I know,” Boss said, standing to leave his sibling. “Don’t fuck this up. You’ll be sorry. You know you will.”

Red was well aware how bad it felt, because driving the nail in wasn’t satisfying. Seeing Error’s pain left him feeling dirty.

~

A week and some days had passed. Error had holed himself up in his old room. He talked to Boss–let him inside the room to chat even–but Red didn’t see a glimpse of him. It put Red’s nerves at ease to know that Error was doing alright, according to Boss; that he hadn’t tried anything like he had the other day. Boss left him food to eat, but he kept up his bad habit of not touching much of what was offered. Boss would huff and grumble, grabbing the dish and telling Error he needed to eat. Error had a similar reply each time, commenting he ‘wasn’t feeling good’ or ‘he was full’. Boss found that anytime he left pain au chocolat from the batch Kuroo had baked with Boss the other day, it was eaten up. He made a habit of leaving two on his breakfast plates.

Red meant it when he said he wouldn’t leave Error alone. The guy was upset with him, sure. He didn’t know the limit of how far Error was willing to go with his previous risky behavior, and that left a sinking feeling in his soul. He’d let him decompress long enough. So when he knocked and entered before Error could respond, Error was taken aback at the sheer audacity. His face was scrunched up, and it was fucking adorable to Red, but he wouldn’t reveal that fact. Now that would light a fuse he couldn’t put out for a long while, and he wasn’t willing to risk it when he needed to talk to Error.

“Wha-at do you want?” Error snapped at him from the bed, rubbing the sleep from his tired eye sockets.

“It’s been too long since I seen ya." Red settled himself into a loveseat adjacent to the bed, tap-tapping his claws on his cigar case in his pocket. Also, we needa talk.”

Error frowned, hissing out a sigh. Irritation culminated in Error’s bones, branching out from his soul. “Why? It’s hardly been a we-eek. Aren’t you glad not to be bothered for once?”

Red huffed out a sigh. “Ya know I don’ consider you a bother, Strings. Don’ ask stupid questions like that. Ya know I like yer bein' around.”

“So, what? You’re going to watch me whi-ile I sleep?” Error asked, growing annoyance evident in his tone. “I don’t need a babysitter. You can-n go back to your room.”

“No. Ain’t gonna happen.”

“Yes. Leave,” Error growled.

“Ain’t leavin’. Get used to it.” Red cross his arms, settling into the chair. It was stiff and uncomfortable. Why did they have this chair again? It was awful.

Error flopped dramatically back against his pillow, groaning loudly enough that it echoed down the hallway. Red snorted. Error angrily buried himself in blankets before cursing under his breath, knowing that sleep would evade him now. He couldn’t drift off while watched, especially not by the guy who’d been haunting his dreams in the best ways. It wasn’t a peaceful sleep, anyhow. Losing out on more tossing and turning, while sweat coated his bones, horniness pervading and loneliness looming over him wasn’t the most enticing. Red didn’t have to know that, though. Quietude existed for a while before Error asked, “Do you re-eally think I’m stupid? That I was actually naïve enough to belie-ieve he cared about me after he followed me here and did those things to me?”

“Nah, I don’t think yer stupid. Never have, Error.” Red twisted the thick ring on his middle phalange. “Was pissed ya didn’t tell me about it sooner, though. Not fer the reasons ya think. I didn’t believe ya had any twisted notions like that. I promise.”

Error released a wavering sigh, picking the stray, pokey feathers from the duvet. “I don’t want-t you to want me gone, Red,” Error admitted, wrapping his arms around himself. “But I think this…m-me stayin’ here–it’s going to run it’s c-course.” He swallowed hard, sadness reflected in his eyelights. “This isn’t working, is it?”

Red was quick to respond. “Error, no, I’m not bootin’ ya out. Get that thought outa yer skull this instant. Yer not goin’ back to prison, an' yer not leavin’. Period.”

“Okay. Um, Red?”

Red internally chuckled. “Yeah?”

He turned over, and all Red could see was the blankets shifting. “There’s…well, I…” Error sucked in a breath before shakily exhaling. A maelstrom of motions wreaked havoc on his mind, his rib cage aching with the fear of inadequacy.

“Ya can tell me. Ain’t gonna attack ya, Error,” Red reassured him. He recognized he hadn’t always been good at keeping his emotions in check, but he meant it. "Not again."

Taking in a deep breath, Error released it slowly. “There’s something I need to tell you. It-it’s not easy, because…well, it’s about you.”

Red sat up, giving Error his full attention. “Again, ain’t gonna be angry. Ya can tell me anythin', sweetheart.”

“I’ve been, heh…am really attracted to you, Red.” He paused, soul thrumming so hard it felt like it might burst. “But now, it's more. I’ve got feelings f-for you,” Error stated, voice laced with anxiety. He was ready to be shot down, told he was crazy and making something out of nothing. So he followed up with, “I realize you might not fe-eel the same, and that's okay–”

“Error, are ya serious?” Red asked, time slowing to a crawl as he digested what had just been said.

“Yes? O-of course I’m serious,” Error responded, peering over the blankets. “Why would I jo-joke about something like-oh–”

Red was sliding onto the bed in an instant. “Hell, ya don’t know how long I’ve dreamt of hearin’ that,” he expressed, cupping Error’s jaw. “I’ve been walkin’ the line of too little an’ too much fer months–I didn’t wanna make ya feel like ya owed me. Cause ya don’t. Not at all, never did.” He kissed the other softly, stroking his cheek. “ But I know I’ve felt deep things ya fer a while now. Can’t pin exactly when I caught feelings, but I knew fer sure they was there when ya moved in.”

“...really?”

“Fuck, yes, really. Error, ya had me hooked a long time ago. I was so stupid ta say what I did to ya. I shoulda controlled my damn temper. Ya were so right, I don’t know what it’s like ta be in yer position. Don’t know how ya feel, but from what I’ve seen, it’s downright awful at times. Don’ know what it’s like bein’ disabled, n’ I’d never wanna make ya feel like I look down on ya, sweetheart. Ya hear me? Yer fuckin’ strong as hell is whatcha are.”

Error pulled him close, forehead resting against Red's. Red’s scent was all enveloping, immensely comforting and he could live happily nuzzling into that large rib cage littered with scars, until he was wearing Red’s unique aroma. “Red…I felt so isolated when Swap was around. Your pres-presence was everything. You don’t realize how mu-much of a difference you made. I…I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you. I w-was a coward.”

Red growled, stiffening. “No. No, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinkin’, Error. You don’t gotta thing ta be sorry fer. That fucker, he’s not gonna touch ya again, sweetheart. I’ll repeat it as often as ya need ta hear it.” Red nuzzled his cervical vertebrae, barely grazing his teeth along his neck. “He’s got karma comin’ his way. I’m makin’ sure of it.”

‘Okay.’ Error nodded, tangling his fingers into Red’s shirt. “Don’t le-eave, okay? I take it back.”

“Not plannin’ on it,” Red hummed. “After tellin’ me all that, there’s no way yer gettin’ rid of me.”

“Take thi-this off.” Error tugged at Red's shirt, hands finding their way underneath to the robust rib cage underneath. Red’s bones were thick and solid, littered with indents and scars. Strong.

Red smirked, pulled his shirt off, doing the same for Error, who donned a beat up tee shirt with the words ' Using his large hands, he caressed Error’s frame, trailing down his spine to thumb the indents and holes in his pelvis. He avoided the cuts, which were faring well with healing cream. Error enthusiastically writhed against his touch, magic curling and coiling around Red’s phalanges. “Ya gonna form somethin’ pretty fer me?”

“That depends. Are you g-going to move your claws?” Error snarked. Red tweaked one of Error’s floating ribs, causing him to squeak. Sure enough, his ecto filled in under his ribs, creating a lean torso and thighs which complimented his figure. Red didn’t expect to be poked.

“Wha–ohhh, well hello there,” he purred, taking in the view of the deep blue shaft. Taking hold of the dick which was shorter than his own, he admired the weight of it in his grasp. Error moaned, thrusting into his palm, weaving his digits deep within the other’s ribs. “This is a pleasant surprise, Strings.”

“You like it?” Error breathed, seeing stars as his dick was squeezed within Red’s large hand. It felt as though the streams of magic twisting around his joints were being drawn southward as Red tugged, the sensation almost to the point of overwhelming.

“Hell yeah.” Red ground his own hips forward, pressing his hardened dick against Error’s before gripping them tightly. Gathering pre, he slicked them, and moved his hand over the shafts. “There we go.”

Error shivered in pleasure. ‘Shiiit.’ That felt too good. Burning with the desire to get closer to him, he kissed Red, whimpering into his mouth as the pressure and speed of the hand surrounding his cock increased. Red’s smooth tongue was such a contrast to his sharp teeth, and Error felt like he was going to melt with the heat culminating in his soul. “Red…R-Red–”

“I gotcha, sweetheart,” he rumbled, his fisting of their flush cocks becoming more insistent. “I feel ya throbbing. Ya gonna cum?”

Error’s spine bowed as he pressed his pelvis upward, panting out as the tension inside of him built up, just on the verge of releasing. He nodded, tears pricking at his eye sockets. “Don’t st-top, fuck, don’t you dare stop, o-ohhh fuck–”

“Look at yerself,” Red commanded, and Error did. Peering down, he observed the glide of Red’s hand, his bones slickened with combined magic, their shafts rock hard and squished against each other. Seeing Red’s girth in comparison with his own, the suggestion of a knot forming in the larger, crimson rod twitching in the tight grip was enough for him to let go. “That’s it, baby, that’s a good boy,” Red praised, his other hand finding the back of his skull as he trembled through his climax. Error was sensitive right after orgasming, and he wasn’t shy about letting Red know.

Legs falling completely open, he exposed the rest of his lower ecto, offering Red a knowing smile. He had formed plush lips with a ready hole within, and he spread the velvety folds, displaying himself for Red’s enjoyment. Red might’ve wanted to come off as unaffected, but his eyelights belied his interest.

“Shoulda known ya’d go ham on summonin’ parts. How many didja form?”

“Tsk. Only t-two holes. What’d you expect?” Error slid two phalanges into himself, pumping in and out of the slick which came from his delectable orgasm. “Wouldn’t you like a taste?”

Red’s cock twitched in interest, and without a verbal answer, he dove between Error’s femurs, tongue ready to play along with the other’s digits. Positioning Error’s calves over his shoulders, Red lapped at the soft cunt, teasing his way inside before curling the tip of his fiercely red tongue, groaning at how hot his lover was. Error was his lover. ‘Holy fuck, what? He’s inta me…n’ it’s not all in my thick skull.’

Error’s voice was beautiful as he clamped down, hands petting Red’s skull sweetly, femurs clenching as spikes of pleasure caused him to twitch. The edges of his teeth caught on Error’s nub, and he jerked his hips, crying out as Red pulled back the hood of the azure clit and focused his attention on the head. It felt like molten heat spreading throughout his pussy. Error felt the beginning of another impending orgasm, but he was adamant about not leaving Red out of the action. He tugged at his shoulders, coaxing Red out from between his thighs. The other’s eye sockets were half-lidded, tongue gliding across the expanse of his sharp teeth before he moved up Error’s body.

“I could eat ya fer days n’ still be craving the taste of ya,” he said, his voice husky with want. “Ya want me ta fuck ya good, Strings? Leave ya too weak ta stand?”

“I want your delicious co-cock knotting me,” Error replied, stroking near the base where he remembered Red’s shaft swelling and locking inside of him. “Fill me up, big guy. Please?”

“Daddy Red is gonna fuck ya real good,” he purred, his cock sliding through the wet coating Error’s opening before lining himself up, the head of his dick catching on the lip of the clenching hole. Gripping Error’s hips, he thrusted slowly inside, groaning at the squeezing, perfect heat around his shaft. “Yer so good–feel so fuckin’ perfect around my cock, Strings. Fu-huck.”

After not being in Red’s bed, the thick shaft stretching Error’s hole was accompanied by a distinct burn. He was girthy and long, and he made Error’s eyelights roll back as the end of his pussy was pushed to its limits. “A-aahah, nghh, forgot how bi-big you are,” Error choked, the blankets clutched in his fists. As Red withdrew his hips, Error’s skull hit the pillow, a moan coaxed out of him as the walls of his cunt were stroked by Red’s fluid movements. “Ye-Ees, oh-ohh my gods,” Error cried out, face buried in Red’s neck and clavicle, thighs crushingly tight around Red’s waist.

“Yeahhh, that’s it, doll, hug me with those delicious thighs,” Red growled, picking up his pace as Error fluctuated around his shaft. He was surprised to feel teeth on his neck, biting down hesitantly. “Ya bitin’ me, baby? Show Daddy whatcha can do with those gold canines, sweetheart.”

Error latched onto Red’s thick clavicle, the pop of his teeth into the layers of bone louder than he’d thought it would be. Red’s forceful groan caught him off guard, but not enough to stop him from sinking his teeth in, tongues lapping at the marrow beading up. Red shook and the fact that he’d found something that had Red trembling like a lead felt significant. After a moment, he released the clavicle, his tongues soothing the wound. Red’s sigh went straight to his core, where the larger had slowed his thrusts.

“Red, wa-ait, wanna turn over,” Error pleaded, turning over shakily so that he could grab onto the headboard. Glancing over his shoulder, he met Red’s feverish kiss, his sternum pressing up against Error’s spine, his cock slipping back inside of him with a wet squelch. He whined, pressing back against Red’s pelvis to meet each thrust, cursing as his insides were tugged by the ridges lining the bottom of his lover’s dick. There was static in the atmosphere, passion marked by Red’s hands roaming his abdomen, dipping down to thumb the head of his cock, or pinch the puffy nub above the occupied hole.

Red slapped Error’s ass, earning a pleased shriek, his thrusts becoming deeper and quicker as he felt his shaft begin to swell. Kneading Error’s soft hips, he drilled his pussy, nipping at his shoulders and moaning as his climax neared. “So fucking p-pretty, mmh-yeah, givin’ Daddy such a good view. Next time maybe I’ll teach ya why ta make more n’ one hole fer me. Got such a cute ass, Err.” He felt his growing knot pop past Error’s lower lips, the quick expansion preceding his bone rattling release. “Oo-oh, Error yes, take me, take my knot, sweetheart–shit!”

Error reached between his legs, gripping his cock and jerking himself quickly. There was no rhythm to it, he was so close it hurt, just sloppy and fast. Finesse was forgotten in favor of cumming as soon as he could. He found himself lightheaded, Red’s fat knot inside him such an intense pressure as his stretched walls fluctuated. “Mhm-m-m, Red, I’m…hghh, close, really close–”

“C’mon, baby, c’mon. Cum on me. Feel my knot inside ya? Focus on that feelin’.” He pet Error’s thighs, his taut stomach, and the area above his soul where it ached. Then he bit down on Error’s shoulder. Error wailed out his completion, clamping down on Red so hard it had both of them reeling.

“Red–cumming, I’m cu-umming,” Error babbled, tears trickling from his eye sockets. Red ground his hips against Error’s, effectively drawing out his orgasm as the thick knot offered friction inside him.

When he came down from the high, Red eased them both down beneath the covers. Kissing his neck bones, Red purred in a mixture of adoration and wonder. Error was urging him to hold him, specifically around the waist, where his ecto was smooth. Red never told him, but he loved touching his abdomen; if he had, it probably would’ve freaked him the fuck out before, considering they’d been casually banging. But now, there were a multitude of possibilities. They were both into each other, and while there were ramifications, Red was willing to slide those under the rug for now.

~

Kuroo had a day off, and it found him in Boss’ kitchen having a cook off with the younger Fell brother. Without the humans around, he felt much more relaxed. He was certain Boss did too, since his demeanor was less harsh. They were both making lasagna dishes. The scent of the kitchen had his mouth watering.

Boss had this game completely planned out before Kuroo had stepped in the door. He was interested in Kuroo–more than he remembered being interested in anyone. Kuroo was a balance of respectful, intelligent, and humble, but Boss wanted to dig deeper, chip away at the barriers he’d erected. He was certain it would be worth it.

“Now then! Since we’ve got our final dishes, I’d like to move onto the next step. Please take a seat, Kuroo.”

He did, settling in and removing his gloves to tuck into his folded apron. “And then?”

Boss smiled. “You’ll wear a blindfold. I’ll offer a bite of both to you, and you’ll tell me which dish belongs to which chef.”

Kuroo shrugged. “Alright. Let’s…do this. Heh.”

Boss loosely tied the handkerchief around Kuroo’s skull, covering his good eyelight. Kuroo snorted at the ridiculousness of it, but humored Boss. He was having a good time–there was a lot less stress today, and it was a time he could relax. All preconceived notions of Boss had been thrown to the wayside when he discovered how relatable he was. “Tsk. What’s so funny?” Boss asked, chuckling a little himself.

“I feel…like I look-k funny.”

“Only a little,” Boss quipped. “But no matter! It will not impede your impeccable sense of taste!” Retrieving a spoonful of Kuroo’s lasagna, Boss offered it to him. “Open wide! This is the first lasagna dish.” Kuroo did, tamping down his fear about a few teeth he’d chipped decades ago. Surely Boss wouldn’t judge him for that. He closed his mouth around the noodle dish, humming at the burst of Italian inspired flavors. Just enough oregano, the tang of sharp cheese, perfectly cooked noodles–this one was very good.

“It’s perfectly…balanced.”

“Now the second.”

Kuroo accepted the second spoonful, focusing on the taste. He wondered if this one was his own. It would make sense. Boss probably had more experience with this dish. He frowned, considering the bite he’d just ingested. “It…wasn’t as good. It’s lacking…”

‘Gotcha.’ “I’d like to reveal something, Kuroo. Both of those bites were from your own dish.”

Kuroo lifted the blindfold, his ruby eyelight searching Boss’ face. “No way. I didn’t even…try yours yet?”

“Nope. And yet you both complemented and insulted yourself.” Boss spooned up a bite for himself, accepting the bite with enthusiasm. He nearly melted at the array of flavor. “How could you be upset with this? Kuroo!”

Kuroo blushed. “I…wow.” His digits twitched, the urge to tug at his wound or the empty eye socket in his skull bubbling up. He ignored it. “I’m not…heh, I’m not? It is good.”

“There we go. I’ve been waiting for that acknowledgement.” Boss planted his hands on his hips. Kuroo rubbed the back of his neck, the praise flustering him more than he’d like to admit. “This is a step in the right direction. You’re a fantastic cook, and I won’t stand for your self-deprecation!”

“I’m glad. Now…can I taste yours?” Kuroo asked, excitement thrumming in his soul. Boss relented, retrieving his dish from the kitchen.

“I suppose. But you’ve already blown the competition away–”

Kuroo chuckled. “That’s for the judge…to d-decide.”

“Ugh, fair fair. I must adhere to my own standards,” Boss grumbled, crossing his arms. Kuroo smiled, taking a bite of his competitor’s lasagna. He hummed in approval.

“You win.” Kuroo went for another bite, closing his eye socket. Boss gawked in disbelief.

“Unbelievable,” Boss remarked. “Mine cannot possibly be better!”

“Believe it. Can I…keep eating?”

Boss nodded, taking a seat with Kuroo. “Be my guest. I’d like to thank you for coming over and indulging me. There are not many who are keen on doing so given my reputation.”

“Of course. It’s…their loss,” Kuroo stated. “Thanks for…having me. I don’t have ma-many friends…either. You can probably…gu-guess why.”

Boss tilted his head. “No, I don’t know why. You are wonderful company in my opinion. Why do you think you have few friends?”

“Well, for s-starters…my speech prob-problems. Sorry, it …gets worse…when I acknowledge it. Secondly,” he removed his hat, exposing the jagged hole in his skull, “This intimidates…people a lot. They assume…that I’m broken…or incompetent.”

“Neither your speech impediment nor your skull injury led me to believe you are incapable. Scars are evidence of resilience and grit. You, Kuroo, are talented and great company. And, to be honest,” Boss stated, offering an open hand to the other, “I’d consider you my friend, if that is agreeable to you.”

Kuroo’s eyelight brightened as he slid his hand into the offered one. The warmth radiating from Boss’ bones was delightful. “Yes. Heheh, yes…friends. I’d like that very much, B-Boss.”

“You can call me Papyrus if you’d like. I…liked how it sounded coming from you. Which is entirely strange, because I haven’t been called Papyrus since childhood! Nyeh!”

“Sure, Pap-Papyrus. It’s a…strong name. Your personality is–” Kuroo made an explosive movement with his hands, reminding Boss of a firework going off, “Big. B-bold. Sounds…important.”

“You think so?” Boss asked, a smile curling the corners of his mouth. Kuroo really knew how to stroke a guy’s ego. Not to mention, he was adorably shy, but Boss could recognize something in Kuroo’s demeanor that suggested a more abrasive side. What he would do to uncover that side of Kuroo…

“Heh…yes, I do. You want to…walk me through…your recipe? I’m dying to know.”

Chapter 9

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Error didn’t need to be convinced to move back into Red’s room where he could latch onto the other in his sleep and absorb the copious warmth radiating from his bones. His loneliness faded into the background, only to show its ugly head on the worst of days. There was an unspoken understanding that they were together now. An item, as Kills had put it. Boss was keenly aware of this change, especially considering he’d caught Red sweetly kissing Error when they thought they were alone. This had evolved into Red sneaking a smooch whenever he assumed no one else was in the room, and thereafter whenever he suspected no one was looking. Boss felt happy for his brother, not that he’d vocalize it. He pointedly ignored the echoes down the hall from the make-up sex the two engaged in for days after they made up.

Refusing to let his older sibling back down from his hesitation to confront Error after they fought was definitely for the better. The way Red looked at Error was like nothing Boss had ever seen in his brother. Yes, Red had dated–no they had never lasted, and they always left Red increasingly bitter and more cynical than before. The fair-weather lovers always had a way of aiming for his pockets, asking for more and more until it occurred to Red that, yet again, he had been duped by a gold-digger.

Boss had also been very aware that Red was sweet on Error since before they’d slept together. At least a year before that, he swore he saw the signs, certain that Red didn’t even realize how deep his interest ran. The months Error had been living with them, Red had been a neon sign broadcasting his intentions, but he’d also recognized the impact of the situation on Error. Boss respected his brother immensely for his unending empathy (even if his older sibling could be thick-skulled at times). But enough was enough, and he was glad the two finally took a step forward, confessing their genuine feelings to one another.

On the other hand, Red was concerned. He expressed to Boss that Error had been especially fatigued lately. Boss had pointed out that maybe Error was exhausted from being fucked into every surface of their home, which had Red sputtering ‘cut it out’ and ‘go fuck yerself’. Boss insisted he wasn’t poking fun at Error’s expense, but rather at Red’s. Red wasn’t impressed at his younger brother’s laughter.

Error rejected food far more often, even going so far as to deny the chocolate filled croissants fresh out of the oven. Red notified Sci of the development, knowing the guy had gone through medical school and had the title to prove it. Sci offered to come out to run a few tests for Error and Red couldn’t have responded back sooner with his thanks. Red still had to keep track of drug orders and conference calls, so it worked out that Sci could come to them. When Error was notified that Sci was coming to diagnose the problem, all Error felt was relief. For once the idea of seeing a medical professional wasn’t terribly daunting. Sci was safe. Error was just absolutely done with feeling sick.

“So, persistent nausea, fatigue, and strain,” Sci hummed, checking items off of a list on his touch screen. “Anything else that really stands out to you?”

Error hesitated before admitting, “I can-can’t…unsummon my ecto.”

“Plus the inability to unsummon your ecto. Alright, noted. I’m going to give you this,” Sci handed him a small, thermometer looking device, “And what I’m going to have you do is insert this up into your ecto via–”

“Uh huh, okay, g-got it. No need to go in-into detail. I can read between the lines, doc.”

Sci chuckled at the suddenness of Error’s reaction. “Fair enough. Make sure to leave it in for two minutes,” he clarified. “If it’s not in for long enough, it’ll affect the results. After the time is up, just cap it, bring it back to me, and I’ll handle the rest.”

“Okay. Alright, two min-min-minutes,” Error repeated, snatching the device before heading to the restroom. Closing the powder room door, he sat down and spread his legs. The tip of the device was spongy, the sensation reminiscent of plushy foam as he pushed it up into himself. He didn’t like that–not at all. It was thick enough to feel but thin enough to be completely unnerving. Waiting, he rubbed his closed eye sockets. Irritability and hints of nausea prickled at him.

When the time was up, he handed the device back to the Sci as instructed. “Now wha-at?”

“Now I’ll process the results. Just a moment.”

‘Perfect. More waiting.’ He let his mind drift for a while before Sci returned from where he’d set up his materials.

“Well, I have news for you, Error. Judging from your test results, you’re pregnant.”

Error’s world slowed to a complete stand still. “C-come again?”

“You’re pregnant. A soul has integrated with yours. It hasn’t broken off yet but it should very soon. This is the most accurate test on the market, but we can certainly run it again if–”

“Y-yes, again. Please, Sci,” Error pleaded, sweat prickling at his bones. Another slender appliance was fished out pf Sci's case, and Error repeated the process, inserting the unsettling foam tip inside of himself. His soul was unsettled, and as he watched one minute turn into two, he yanked the test out, returning it to Sci.

“I realize this is a shock for you. Is there anything I can do?” Sci asked, removing his gloves and replacing them with a sterile pair. Error shook his skull ‘no’.

“You’re going above a-and beyond by being here outside of scheduled hours. Yes, it’s shock-shocking, but I’ll be fine.”

He wasn’t feeling fine. Very, very not fine. How the fuck did it happen that, even with a chunk of his soul missing, he could still support a flicker of another life? Tapping his phalanges anxiously against his femurs, he waited with growing anticipation for the news of the second test.

Sci released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “So this test has also come out with a positive result.”

“Yeah, that’s what-t I thought you’d say,” Error muttered.

While Sci informed him of resources that were available to him, all he was contemplating was Red’s reaction. Things had just settled down. He didn’t need this. He didn’t necessarily want to get rid of it, even though that would probably be the best idea in his current situation. There wasn’t even a guarantee that the brand new life would persist. More than likely it would be snuffed out, which was entirely upsetting, but his soul probably couldn’t sustain it if he wanted it to. It was entirely unfair. When Sci departed, he found himself terrified at the idea of keeping this information to himself. This needed to be aired. Now.

After a thorough exploration, he found Red chatting with a client. In person.

‘Today’s my lucky day' Error thought as his mouth morphed into a scowl.

The woman was dark haired and olive skinned, her hazel eyes peering out from under lush eyelashes. According to human standards, she was a gorgeous individual. The group accompanying her decided that staring at Error was in their best interest. If Error could shoot daggers from his eye sockets, bodies would’ve littered the ground.

“My, my, who is this? One of your helpers, Fell?” The lady asked. “Because I’m very in the mood for a drink. Something fruity, maybe a sweet red from your collection?" She stretched her arms onto the desk, revealing more cleavage from her deep plunge neckline. She smiled at Error. "Hey you, yes you, love. Could you fetch me a drink? I’m absolutely parched.”

Visible cringing, Red suspected she’d caught sight of his lover. She’d met Boss briefly in the past, and he had no qualms about staying around so she could analyze him to pieces. Error’s eye sockets narrowed.

“Heh, no, he’s not one of my help. I’ll call someone fer ya.” Red attempted to redirect her attention, but she was having none of it. The item of her attention was the strangest looking skeleton she’d ever laid eyes on.

“Who are you then? I’d like to know. You don’t look like any skeleton I’ve seen before. Your bones are so dark and vivid.”

Error scowled. Red took over. “Let’s focus on yer order, Ms. Molls. Leave im’ be.”

“His appearance is so unique, though.” She gasped, her excitement evident as she asked, “Is he an anomaly?”

‘Wo-oww. Really?’ “Ever heard of common decency? I’m ri-ight here,” Error snapped, his patience waning.

“Oh my gods, your voice! His voice, Red, it’s glitchy. Stars! Where did you find him? Underground?” She winked playfully, as though sharing an inside joke with a pal.

Red’s eyelight was a bright vermillion. “He’s not my help, if that’s what yer gettin’ at, and he’s none of yer concern. Do ya want this order filled or not?”

“Shit, Fell, what’s wrong with you? I was only curious about the company you keep. No need to be so uptight about it,” she pouted, crossing her arms over her sizable bust.

“Curiosity don’ cut it. We didn’ set up a meetin’ ta talk about my personal life n’ not the company I keep neither. So do we have a deal or not? I’m not here all day ta chit-chat with ya. I agreed to talk business with ya, not wine n’ dine ya.”

“You know what? Fine. Have it your way. I’m calling it off. You used to be so easy going. What happened to you?” She snapped, gathering up her things. “Why can’t I ask about it?”

It?” Red bit out. “I sure hope you’re not talking about him. He’s not a fucking ‘it’. That’s why.”

“Him,” she corrected, sounding not a bit apologetic. “I didn't know his gender. Simple mistake. You're making a huge deal out of nothing now. Monster gender isn't exactly my specialty.”

“No, heh, no, I got a damn good reason fer my behavior. Now this is over, yer time here is up. You and yer crowd outa my house. Pronto.” Red herded them out of his conference room, pointing towards the front door as he blocked out the rambling about how he was better in the past and how he was going to regret not partnering with her filthy rich fiance. Yada yada, he’d heard it before. Money didn’t sway him much anymore, especially if there were racists on the other end of the bargain. He escorted the irate Ms. Molls and her posse out the front door, locking it after them. He sighed, pinching his nasal ridge.

“Insufferable cunt. Wastin’ my time...”

Error chuckled. “She re-eally was. Holy Stars...”

“Fuckin’ racist. Color me surprised why dontcha.” Red rolled his eyelights. “So, sweet thing, what’s it that ya needed?” Red swiftly stole a kiss. “Or were ya just eager fer me to get finished so we could watch that show ya were talkin’ about earlier? I’m all freed up now, Err.”

‘Tell him.’ Error exhaled shakily before steeling himself. “Red.”

“That’s m’ name.” He bonked their foreheads together, humming in delight. Red was so snuggly as of recently and it melted Error’s soul. Ever since they’d admitted their feelings for one another, Red opened up so much more, and it pained him to think that he was potentially about to cause a rift between them. Again.

“Can we l-lay down for a bit? I, heh, m-missed you this morning. A lot.”

“‘Course we can, doll. Hold tight.” Suddenly being back in the room didn’t feel so comforting. Especially since the tests and documents left by Sci were left right on the dresser in plain sight. They were evidence–there was no hiding this. It wasn’t fair. He should’ve learned this by now. Tears stung his eye sockets, and he didn’t know why. It was pointless trying to hide the fact he was broken up.

“Sweetheart, why’re ya cryin’? Err, baby…c’mere.” Red gathered Error to his chest, his concern overriding any residual exasperation he’d been feeling.

Error hiccuped, wiping at his face. “I took a t-test–”

“Yeah? And?” Red asked, eyelights searching his face. Error nodded, tears like raindrops on his cheeks. Red thumbed them away, kissing him and hugging him close. “Talk to me, hon. What kinda test?”

How did one tactfully inform the father of their child that they were, well, the father. Of their child. Error didn’t have the patience or interest in waiting to tell Red, not after everything they’d gone through because of his lack of honesty in the past. He sucked in a breath before uttering, “Red, I-I…” he released the breath, steeling himself. He could do this. It was two measly words–a statement that could make or break this tenuous grasp he had on the one good thing in his life currently. It had to be done, though. Red deserved to know.

“I’m pregnant.”

Red stilled, his eye sockets widening in shock. Realization hit him like a club to the back of his skull. ‘That makes a lotta sense, actually.’ “Yer pregnant?” He mirrored, unable to form anything else quite yet. Error’s lower lip trembled, shoulders shaking as he sobbed. “Oh, baby,” Red cooed, finally getting ahold of himself. He inhaled Error’s scent, rubbing his spine and nuzzling his neck. Maybe this was why the magic hadn’t been taking as well to Error’s soul lately. All of the issues Error already experienced would be exacerbated. He hadn’t planned for this, and he should’ve–he really should’ve been more careful. ‘Fuckfuckfuck.’ “We’re gonna be alright, Err. I’ve got ya, baby doll. I've gotcha.”

“I'm...a-an idiot,” Error blubbered. “I just assumed that-that my s-soul was too damaged. I fantasized about some-something like this, Red, I just know it’s m-my damn fault…”

Red rocked his counterpart in his arms. His soul felt like it would shatter listening to the despair in his lover’s voice. In hindsight, he should’ve been far more careful when they were intimate, but that was easy to say now when he wasn’t caught up in the moment.

“I’m not upset, sweetheart. Hell, I didn’ think it could happen either. It’s…we can handle it. This is you n’ me, together. I’m right here n’ I’m not goin’ anywhere, Err.”

“Can we though?” Error asked, blatant worry in his tone. “This–if the s-state gets wind of this, they’ll take me back Red. I won-won't see you again a-an-and-”

“No one’s takin’ ya anywhere,” Red growled. “No, Err, you’re gonna be okay, baby. Look at me. I’m gonna take care of ya, just like I have been. Ain’t no one, no how takin’ you from me, ya hear? Not ever.”

“You shouldn’t have to t-take care of me,” Error mumbled, breath hitching with emotion. Red lifted his chin, determined to be the solid presence his partner needed. It didn’t matter that on the inside he was panicking–frightening Error wasn’t an option right now.

“I wanna take care of ya. This is my choice.” Red pressed a firm kiss to Error’s brow, then on his lips. They tasted like tears and magic. “We’re gonna sit in bed under the covers, and I’m gonna hold ya. We can figure things out piece by piece. Shit, we can stay there all day if that’s whatcha want, Err.” He took the other’s hands in his, squeezing them reassuringly. Stars, he hated seeing him cry. “I care ‘bout ya so damn much, it hurts. When ya appeared in my life, ya made me the happiest I’ve ever been’.”

Error let himself be situated on Red’s warm, bare sternum. He nestled into his lap, wrapping the strong arms of his larger lover around him. Sighing shakily, he closed his eye sockets. “I care about you, too, Re-ed. You don’t know h-how scared I was…well, am. I’m frightened,” Error admitted with a scowl.

“I know you are. Ya spooked me, too. It’s a lot to take in.”

“I thought I’d wa-ant to eradicate it. When, in realit-ty, I’m sad it might not live. Heh.”

Red caressed his hips, phalanges wonderfully kneading the soreness out of his joints and ecto. He sighed, his breath hot against Error’s cheek. “I’m here, hon. Can’t pretend ta know how ya feel, but ya can tell me. I wantcha to tell me.” He squeezed the hand in his own, the rumble of a purr emanating from his chest.

The scent of Red’s clothes, the balm he used on his thick, scarred bones, and his natural aroma had Error’s ecto swirling with sensations that emanated from his soul, where he was now aware a new life was nestled. Maybe Red would be able to see it soon. Would he be able to with a hand-held mirror? His skull became a source of fantasizing about the literal spec of a being he was hosting. Maybe he’d have a connection soon, feel its affection and existence evolving before it had the mind to produce such things. Maybe Red would be able to feel them, too, trace over where he could see the soft glow emanating through his stomach.

“Thank you,” Error said, warmth culminating in his soul. It sure was something, to feel wanted; it helped to seal off that section of his thoughts which continuously produced negative ‘what ifs’ and other unsavory scenarios. He didn’t need any more of those at the moment. Red would chase them off with his presence and his sonorous, wonderful voice.

~

“So is there a reason you’ve been hiding away? Or did ya decide you don’t like me any longer? Either is understandable,” Kills joked, leaning against the doorframe of his bedroom. Error felt slightly guilty at having been absent so frequently. They hadn’t spoken in quite a while, it was true.

“Have-haven’t been feeling good. Also…” he began, but paused. Should he mention the pregnancy? Was that appropriate or wanted? Did people just go around saying, “Hey, I’ve got this thing growing right here, it’s alive” or did they keep it confidential? He supposed it wouldn’t hurt, since just the other day the little thing had settled into his midsection like it owned the place. It had been jarring–not necessarily painful, just extremely unsettling.

“Also? Error, ya there, bud?” Kills was waving at him, a half goofy, half concerned smile plastered on his face. “Also, what?”

“I’m pregnant,” Error blurted and immediately the smile disappeared, replaced with an expression of stupor.

“Oh. Oh wow. You’re serious?”

“Completely,” Error said.

“I…congrats. Heheh. So Red's a daddy?” Kills asked, sly smile returning to his features as he centered himself. Error nodded, a blush forming on his face. “That’s fucking adorable, Error. You lucky bitch, you, shacking up with that hunk of big bones.”

“Pffft.” Error chuckled. “Hunk?”

“Yeah, hunk. Have ya seen Red? He could break me. So could Nightmare for that matter and shit...that’s kinda hot. Is that fuckin’ weird? I know I’ve got problems,” Kills said, moving to take a seat on a loveseat in his bedroom. Error moved to do the same, bundling himself in a blanket.

“Nah. A l-lot of folks have been interested in Night. He’s a pick-picky one, although he does seem to give you a lot of attention when he’s been around.”

Kills beamed. “Does he? Oh shit, that’s something I’m keeping in mind. Seriously, I couldn’t tell if he was just bein’ polite or not.”

Error shook his head. “He’s not shy. If he did-didn’t like you, he wouldn’t have given you his time at all.”

“Sweet. Good to know.”

“So you want to get to know him?” Error ventured, testing the waters.

“Yeah. That’s the goal. Ya know, for the future.”

“We could go for a vis-visit, possibly…I used to work for him. His place is a spectacle–in a good way. I think it could be a positive way for you to connect with him. If you couldn’t tell, he’s not exactly shy.”

“Yes! That sounds fuckin’ scary and amazing at the same time,” Kills said, clenching his hands in excitement and nerves. “So he’s important, huh? Damn…why do I always swoon over the big guys? Stars.”

Error snorted. “So what got-got you hooked? Did the tentacles have any part in it?”

Red magic flooded into Kills’ face. “It’s a lot more than just tentacles. But yeah. He’s downright tempting, just commands all the attention in a room and ugh–” Kills slapped his hands over his face, practically glowing. Error chuckled.

“You’ve got it bad.”

“State the obvious, why dontcha?” Kills grumbled, groaning. “The worst part is I don’t stand a fuckin’ chance. I mean, take you, for example. You got your eyes, your bright, colorful markings, and on the other hand, what do I have? Tch.” To demonstrate his point, Kills gathered that tarry goop from one of his eye sockets and it stretched before snapping off wetly. “See? I’m a freak show.”

Error frowned. “You’re not. Don-don’t say that. And so what-what-what if I have those things? You’re attractive in your own right.”

“If ya weren’t my friend, I doubt you’d be sayin’ that.”

“Kills. You are a catch,” Error said. “We can talk to Red, sched-ed-schedule a date for a visit, and it’ll be a good time. Don’t berate yourself, you don’t deserve tha-at.”

“Oh stop. I’m decent at best. Now Nightmare, he’s a catch. Have you seen him smile? Shiiiit. On the other hand, have you seen him mad? Fuck me.” Kills smirked. “That sounds good. If we can arrange that, I’d like that.”

“Stars.”

“I need him to look at me like I’m absolute trash…and then tell me I’m pretty and fuckable,” Kills clasped his hands together, holding them up to his cheek.

“The epitome of romance,” Error scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“You know it. By the way, back to square one–can you see the little guy yet?” Kills asked, referring to Error's new inhabitant.

“Yeah, actually, I can. D-did you want to see?”

“Kind of, if that’s alright with you. Only if you’re comfortable.”

Error shrugged. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen-seen before, I’m sure.” He tugged up the bottom of his shirt, exposing the brilliant blue of his formed abdomen, which was flecked with golden yellow. Tucked deep within was the barest glow, a small soul shape buried beneath the protective layers of magic and tissue.

“That’s so neat. Can I look more closely?” Kills asked, not wanting to make his companion uncomfortable. Error nodded. Standing up, Kills strode over to kneel, now eye level with the barely there swell in Error’s midsection. “Wow. Sorry if this is weird, but it’s really cool. What’s it feel like?”

“Hmm…tight?” Error pondered, before continuing with, “And warm...like gentle, con-constant pressure.”

“Heh, that’s wild.”

“Ain’t it just?” The two looked towards the door where Red was leaning, arms loosely crossed over his chest. “Still can’t believe it.”

“Congrats, big daddy,” Kills said, standing up. “Start believing, I’ve seen proof.”

“How ya feelin’, sweetheart?” Red asked, pressing a kiss to Error’s skull. Error sighed, contentment flooding his soul.

“I’m alright. Red, I have a proposition for you.”

“Shoot.”

~

Red had been reluctant at first, but once Error explained with a blushing Kills there to back him up that, yes, he wanted to arrange to see Nightmare, he couldn’t help but to agree. He’d be going along as well, of course. He hadn’t given himself a day off of work in as long as he could remember, save for the weekends, but a guy had to rest at some point.

After having gone through his limited closet before asking Error and Boss for advice, Kills was lent a few items from the both of them to assuage his anxiety before heading over to Nightmare’s residence. Kills donned a fitted black sweater with a pair of slim, burgundy trousers and Boss’ sleek, polished belt. To top it off, he pulled on a cap and a chestnut vest from Error’s wardrobe. Looking in the mirror, he felt immensely more confident than he had when he’d woken up that morning. Although, now that he’d stepped out of Red’s vehicle and found himself gazing upon the immense, ornate structure that was Nightmare’s home, Kills felt his self-deprecating thoughts returning to his cranium, cozying back up in the forefront of his mind where they’d once inhabited.

‘Well fuck me.’ “So…this is the old man’s home, eh?” Kills asked, knowing full well what the answer would be. Error was dressed in a deep blue tunic shirt with black slacks, and stepping out, he paused a moment, assessing whether his sudden vertigo was truly car sickness or due to his abdominal passenger.

“This is the Joku residence, y-yeah,” Error said, breathing deeply and squeezing his eye sockets shut. Red was there, a hand rubbing his lower spine. Error wondered what he did before Red was in his life before deciding he didn’t want to think about his past for once. He was working on being mentally present at the moment.

“Ya wanna go ring the door? He’s expectin’ us,” Red said, knowing Error would probably take some time to collect himself. With a thumbs up, Kills turned on his heel and made his way to the imposing front door. He was out of his element, what was he doing? He was suddenly overcome with an ungodly amount of trepidation as he ascended the cobblestone steps leading to the stoop. Ever persistent and unwilling to show how much this was affecting him, he pressed the glowing button of the doorbell.

Now those were some loud, deep barks, meaning big dogs. They sounded like they wanted to tear his limbs from his torso. Kills began to sweat. He nearly leapt a foot in the air when Error and Red were suddenly behind him, having finally caught up.

“Woah, sorry,” Error said. “Didn’t me-mean to spook you. Don’t worry, they’re sweethearts. Their bark is definitely worse than-than their bite. Trust me.”

The door opened to reveal the barking behemoths, and sure enough, Kills’ deduction of their size had been accurate. With a stern ‘at ease’ from their owner, the dogs calmed, eager to gather the scent of the group entering their home. Kills was as stiff as a board as he held a trembling hand out for the pair to sniff.

“Welcome. Please, come in,” Nightmare said, holding the door wide for his guests. His cyan eyelight found Kills, who obviously had some reservations regarding his canine duo. “Little Boy, Little Girl, come. Now.” The dogs did as they were ordered, trotting over to their master to take a seat at his side. “My apologies. They’re merely curious. How are you, Kills?”

Kills cleared his ‘throat’, offering a half smile. “I’m well. They’re no problem, I…have a spotty history with dogs. Heh heh.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, hoping the fact that he was sweating buckets wasn’t obvious. “How’re you, Mr. Joku?”

Closing the door, Nightmare clicked his tongue. “Fuck formalities. Please, call me Nightmare.”

Kills chuckled. “Alright, Nightmare. I like your style.”

“And I like yours. It’s a different vibe from your tee shirt and night shorts you met me in.”

‘Oh, yeah–that outfit.’ It wasn’t the best choice, but Kills hadn’t exactly been up to date on who’d be frequenting the Fell household. “Yeah, I’m sure you preferred that. I mean, it was only semi-threadbare in two places…”

“I couldn’t tell.” Nightmare smiled, and Kills soul throbbed. “Would you like a drink?”

“Did I give ya permission ta read my mind?” Kills chuckled, before relaxing his posture.

Error felt satisfied watching Kills interact with his former boss. He could tell Nightmare was interested in the other. The way the tentacled skeleton watched him, his body language, everything about his demeanor around Kills spoke volumes of his fascination–it was frankly pretty adorable. Never had Error actually seen the mogul express this type of interest in another being before.

“You missin’ the wine, hon?” Red asked, swirling a crisp glass of appley alcohol he’d been handed by Kuroo. Error huffed.

“Well, con-con–sidering you’re sipping on my favorite, what do you think, mister?”

“Tsk. I’m sorry baby.”

“No you’re not,” Error grumbled. “Don’t give me tha-at crap. Look at you, grinning like an idiot.”

“Is my Erry upset?”

Error glared at him, hoping the expression carried the weight he intended. Red snorted.

“Long time, no see. How’re ya doing? Care for a snack?” Classy asked, his tone warm. Error perked up. A snack didn’t sound half bad.

“Touché. I’d love one.” Error plucked up a small plate and filled it up with hors devours. “I’m good, by-by the way. And yourself?”

“Heh, oh you know, just peachy keen. Thanks for askin’. Glad to see you back here.” With that, Classy made his way to where Kills and Nightmare were seated in the study to offer them the spread of food. Error hummed in delight as he bit into a petite, triangular sandwich. It melted on his tongues.

Red’s concern for Error’s recent health issues was partially assuaged as he watched his significant other indulge. ‘Stars, he’s beautiful. How did I end up gettin’ so lucky?’ As if he was privy to Red’s internal dialogue, Error looked up mid-bite, narrowing his eyes slightly.

“What? What is it?”

“Nothin’. Yer just eye catchin’.”

Error’s face lit up, and he groaned, muttering ‘stop it’ and ‘we’re in public’. Red couldn’t help but chuckle. Error was a gem.

On the other side of the downstairs, already having downed his first glass of wine, Kills was feeling much more at ease. Nightmare’s smile was the best thing he’d ever seen in his existence, the edges of his canines definitely sharp enough to draw marrow–Kills wasn’t thinking about how the black skeleton’s tongue would taste against his own. Nope. Not at all, his mind wasn’t steadily drifting into the gutters. He wouldn’t be a complete and utter pervert and hope, no pray, to the gods that Nightmare was as dominant in the bedroom as he was in all other aspects of his life.

“You had a lot to say about your past last time we spoke,” Nightmare said. “Although, I wasn’t certain all of it was valid, considering you were well past tipsy. How is it you came to be at the Fell house, again?”

“Ah, that. I was Error’s neighbor in prison. We were housed in the same room in the medical wing. It was a lot less boring with someone there to chat with.”

“I can imagine so. And you ended up at Fell’s how?”

“Apparently Error and I were a packaged deal. Heh, like a bonded pair of cats from the pound or somethin’.” Kills frowned, suddenly feeling like he was blowing his chances with Nightmare. Sometimes he opened his mouth and he felt like stupidity was being aired for all to see. Nightmare was so far out of his league he was surprised the guy even looked his way. He probably had multiple college degrees and a couple packed trust funds at the very least.

“I see. Well, luckily you were, otherwise I wouldn’t have had the chance to meet you.”

Kills’ brows shot up and for a moment his expression was completely blank. Had he heard that correctly? Nightmare was glad to meet him? Him?

“Y-yeah, right? I feel the same way. I mean, but more so–I’ve, uh, never met someone quite like you, Nightmare. You’re a rare find," Kills said.

“Well thank you. Would you take a walk with me? I have a few things in mind that might pique your interest.”

“Yeah, yes, let’s.” Kills was up, then tripping over himself, because some time in the last few minutes he’d polished off another glass of wine. He needed to learn to slow down, but tell that to his anxiety which contributed to the frequent sips of liquid courage. Before his tail bone met the floor, he was caught by soft, coiling appendages which were much less wet than Kills had imagined. He’d touched them before, but the experience felt just as new as the first time. “Thanks. I can definitely handle my booze, as you can clearly tell.”

“Are you sure you’re up for a stroll? It was only a suggestion.”

“Of course!” Kills found his footing and by the grace of the gods, he was offered a charcoal, skeletal hand. He took it. It was soothingly cool against his own as Nightmare guided his hand to the crook of his elbow, where he encouraged Kills to link arms with him. Officially on cloud nine, Kills had no words to express how light his soul felt.

The first location they paused at was the largest library Kills had ever seen inside of a home. There were multiple levels, the high shelves all brimming with novels. He’d never been a big reader, but he could admit when something was truly spectacular.

“This is my favorite place in my home. It’s a guilty pleasure of mine, just coming here and reading for hours,” Nightmare admitted, his sonorous voice like honey coating the inside of Kills’ skull.

“It’s amazing.”

“Why thank you, I tend to think so as well. You’re welcome to accompany me here anytime.”

“Really?” Kills asked, as though he hadn’t just heard it from the source. Nightmare chuckled.

“Yes, really. Is that so shocking?”

“You barely know me. I’m an ex-convict, I-I don’t understand why–”

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” Nightmare asked. Kills was stunned, then extremely self-conscious.

“Um, it’s not you. I just don’t usually get this far with anyone. It’s a lot…” Kills admitted, face flushing crimson.

“Do you think that because you’re an ex-convict that I think less of you? Have I done anything to make you think that?” Nightmare asked, his voice serious. Kills shook his head ‘no’.

“No, you’ve made me feel entirely welcome. I don’t feel like ya think that at all. It’s just hard to get out of my head, is all. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. There’s nothing to apologize for. Would you like to continue?”

“I’d like that a lot,” Kills said, releasing a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He was alright. This was alright.

They wandered, with Kills clutching a flute of something tangy and bubbly, and while Kills felt undeserving of the gentle treatment, he accepted it without question. He didn’t want to compromise his chances, to let the self destructive portion of his psyche win as it had tended to do in the past. He leaned into Nightmare’s touch, enjoying the tentacles which had lingered on his shoulders to support him.

They ascended a grand, winding staircase which led into the very upper levels of the regal home, and Kills felt as though he had reached the canopy of a rainforest as he looked down, hearing Error’s and Red’s banter echoing from far below them. It was slightly dizzying, especially since he was feeling the full effects of his third drink by now. Nightmare tugged him away from the railing, very aware of his guest’s inebriated state.

“It’s a far fall. I’d rather you stayed near the center of the steps.”

“That’s…a fair point,” Kills said, snorting. “So where are we headed? I’m curious to see what’s tucked all the way up here.”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out, Kills,” Nightmare said, guiding him down a long hallway lined with sconces and an arched ceiling. Kills was blown away both by the way his name sounded in Nightmare’s mouth and the elaborate interior design. Who decorated like this anymore? He’d never seen a place that was so captivating. He was definitely far more into the little details when he was drunk, but holy Stars, he could get lost in a place like this without moving an inch.

“Boo, so many surprises,” Kills jokingly whined.

Before he knew it, they were entering a dimly lit room with cool, ultramarine lighting. Kills wasn’t sure what to make of it as his vision was adjusting, before he recognized a large, black desk, its shelving lined with neatly filed binders and yet more books. All around them was foliage: snaking, coiling, feathered fauna that brought the walls to life. Kills felt like he had stepped into a terrarium, the air thick with the scent of greenery, tinged with citrus and floral. Somewhere the whisper of water lulled him into a sense of calm, the lushness of the space and the atmosphere perfectly serene.

“This is my office space. It’s my second favorite area to frequent in my home,” Nightmare explained, tentacles giving Kills’ shoulders light, comforting squeezes. Kills swore he was having an out of body experience.

“I don’t think you understand how fucking cool this is,” Kills said softly. Awe-struck and keenly aware of Nightmare’s touch, Kills watched Nightmare’s teal eyelight squint as he smiled. “You have impeccable taste.”

“I thought you might appreciate this room.” Nightmare’s hand was on his jaw then, cupping the side of his face so gently, his touch cool against Kills’ flushed cheek. Kills thought about the tarry tear streaks dripping onto the other’s hand, and instantly he wished he hadn’t, because he felt a rush of insecurity quash his confidence. Nightmare pulled his hand back, and Kills felt like begging for it back. “I’m sorry–”

“No, p-please, it wasn’t you,” Kills reassured. “I…it’s this.” Kills swiped his phalanges over his cheek, gathering the muck from under his eye sockets. “Heh heh, cute, right? You’ve probably got some on you–”

“Kills.” Nightmare watched his guest closely, sensing the negative energy practically wafting from the other. “You’re absolutely striking.”

That caught Kills off guard. Without enough time to school his facial expression, he was caught, a deer in the headlights, empty eye sockets comically wide. “You don’t have to say that, ya know? I’m not a catch like you’re probably used to…”

“You’re right, you’re nothing like I’m used to. You’re radiant.” There that hand was again, at Kills’ chin, tilting his skull so that he could look right into the brilliant teal glow of Nightmare’s eye. “You're so quick to belittle yourself. I won’t stand for it.”

“No?” Kills squeaked out. He could smell the other’s sweet breath and it had him feeling lightheaded with excitement.

“No.”

The proximity between them disappeared as Nightmare leaned in to capture his mouth. Over the moon, Kills reciprocated with enthusiasm, vocalizing his approval with a groan. Reaching out, he found the ridges of the back of Nightmare’s cervical vertebrae before feeling down his spine to where the tentacles were rooted. The kiss became more heated as Kills massaged the area which originated the powerful appendages, phalanges eliciting pleasure in a location Nightmare rarely saw touch, if ever.

“You’re really good at that,” Kills said breathlessly. He’d let his vest fall to the side, the heat between them increasing at their proximity. “I wouldn’t object to another.”

“Who am I to deny you?” Nightmare asked, moving in for another, deeper kiss. Kills’ toes curled as he was guided back until his backside met the edge of Nightmare’s desk. Putty in the other’s hands, Kills felt a personal fantasy of his coming alive, the idea of being fucked in this setting spurring his ecto into existence. “Stars, look at you.” Nightmare sucked at his cervical vertebrae and his voice caught in his throat, the ability to speak stolen as pleasure shot up his spine. Kills whimpered. “Gorgeous,” Nightmare purred against the side of his skull, deft hands finding sensitive places on Kills’ frame which had never been touched.

“Nightmare–shit, you don’t know…what you do to me,” Kills said, hands trembling as he watched Nightmare loosen his tie before letting it fall to the ground.

“I might have an idea.”

“Yeah?” Kills chuckled, groaning as Nightmare slotted himself between his thighs. Seated on the surface of the desk, Kills eagerly took in the tented material of Nightmare’s slacks pressing against his own crotch. This kind of teasing wasn’t fair. “Oh fuck…”

“Something the matter?” Nightmare asked with a smirk. Kills traced a phalange over the outline of a sizable shaft, mouth watering at the thought of what it might taste like.

Feeling a wave of confidence cresting, Kills grinned. “I want what you’re packing here. Can I have it?”

“Be my guest.”

Kills slid off of the desk down to his knees, unable to banish the smile on his face. He didn’t care how stupid he looked at the moment–he was about to give the best head and maybe Nightmare would rail him over the surface of his desk afterward, if he was lucky. Undoing the button and fly of Nightmare’s slacks, Kills revealed the teal cock, and it didn’t disappoint. Swallowing the tip, he hummed, before taking the rest down as well. Nightmare’s sigh went straight to his core.

“That’s a good look for you,” Nightmare praised, lightly thrusting into Kills’ mouth. Kills bobbed his skull, choking down the slightly ridged surface of the other’s cock. With lidded eye sockets, Kills hummed, losing himself in the repetitive motions, absolutely ecstatic as Nightmare rested a hand on his skull to dictate his movements. ‘Use me’ he urged, feeling so overcharged and wound up he could feel the moisture gathering at the crux of his summoned thighs. “Yes.”

With cheeks hollowed so that it made an audible ‘pop’ as he pulled off, he licked his lips as he gazed up at Nightmare. “You like me on my knees that much?”

“You have no idea,” Nightmare said, caressing the side of Kills’ face. “Do you want to take this further?”

“Is that even a question?” Kills asked, standing up to meet Nightmare half way as he bent to kiss him once more. Kissing Nightmare felt like swallowing down molten pleasure, the buzz of it swirling in the carapace of his nontraditional soul. “Yeah, I wanna go further.”

Nightmare lifted him up onto the desk surface once more, tentacles busying themselves undoing Kills’ pants before stripping him of them in an instant. Then he was between his red thighs, hot breath against his exposed folds before Nightmare’s tongue was flush with his clit. Releasing a shuddering breath, Kills fell back onto his elbows, shivering in bliss as he was eaten out.

Time stood still as he was brought to the brink of orgasm, insides fluttering around the deft tongue and tentacle which had joined the oral debacle. Dark tears dripped lazily down his cheeks, his groans encouraging his dominant partner to press on, doubling down as he felt Kills’ frame respond to his ministrations.

“Oh fuck, oh Stars y-yeah,” Kills cried out, gripping the edge of the desk, probably leaving claw marks as he held on through the best orgasm he’d had in as long as he could remember. Hell, his vision was nil for a second and while he was disoriented, it blew him away (literally). “Shit, Nightmare…”

Speaking of the devil, he was over him, tentacles primed and clearly Nightmare was still revved up, considering the occasional twitch of the shaft pressing against Kills’ inner thigh. Nightmare chuckled at Kills’ reaction before nibbling at his cervical vertebrae. “You taste amazing, you know.”

Kills snorted. “You can’t just say things like that. Who are you?”

“And why not? It’s true.” Three was that dazzling grin, and the knowledge that he’d just been deep diving between his thighs brought a fierce blush to Kills’ face. Nightmare caught him by surprise, kissing him and sharing the taste he thought so highly of, and Kills’ stiffened.

“You didn’t just–”

“I did.” Nightmare looked proud of himself. He felt it, too. Kills shifted so that he rubbed against Nightmare’s cock.

“I’ll get you back for that one, mister. I promise ya that,” Kills said, reaching between his legs to line the teal shaft up with his sensitive hole. “Now, I’ve had the pleasure of your mouth on me, how about you give me a taste of this inside of me?”

“I’ll hold you to it, darling. That was the plan.” Kill’s pussy felt like it was made for him, the pressure and heat the perfect combination as Nightmare eased his way into his partner. It had been a long, long time since he’d been with another–far too long. Kills set his soul into a tizzy, generating a flame that fed a maelstrom of emotions that would have to be explored in full at a later date. Nightmare didn’t just catch feelings–he’d never been one to date. Kills made him want to reconsider that view of relationships he’d maintained in the past

“Oh Night…Nightmare please, if you don’t move I swear I’m going to ride you into next week.”

“Is that a promise?” He asked, stealing another brief kiss, and unable to convince himself he wouldn’t do it again. It was intoxicating.

“Please, please, I don’t beg and I’m doing it for ya. Come on, fuck me, bossman.”

With a considerable amount of control, Nightmare built up a rhythm, driving them both mad with the change in consistency here and there. It reached a fever pitch and Kills’ was clawing at Nightmare’s spinal column, breathing muffled curses into his shoulder as he was cleaved open by the other’s dick. Orgasm quickly approaching, he cried out Nightmare’s praises, locking his legs around the other’s waist as he lost his cool.

Nightmare growled as he plowed into him, the point at which they were connected so intensely pleasurable that he felt the urge to leave lasting marks in Kills’ bones, but that would be crossing a line. He hadn’t signed up for that, and neither had Kills. This was an overwhelmingly pleasant slice of bliss, but letting things get out of hand wasn’t an option. Kills was cumming again, his spine arching so prettily that, if Nightmare had the option, he would’ve had it immortalized and hung on his office wall. He could watch the other lose himself again and again and not grow tired of it. In lieu of Kills’ own ecstasy, his was secondary, his interest fueled by the skeleton speared on his cock.

“That’s it, say my name,” Nightmare hissed out, hips stuttering as his own orgasm rapidly approached. Molten heat flooded out of him and into the red ecto he was buried to the hilt inside, and Kills’ released a satiated groan. Kills kept his hips flush against his pelvis, not letting up a bit, even though he’d since lost feeling in his legs. The atmosphere was filled with the sound of the two catching their breath, basking in the afterglow of their amorous activities. “Shower?” Nightmare asked, acutely feeling the humidity and the perspiration prickling his goopy bones. “Or would you prefer a soak?”

“I don’t think I can stand,” Kills admitted, acknowledging the numbness in his lower body.

“No worries.” Gathering him up without jostling where they were connected, Nightmare was delighted by the squeak the other released as he walked them into the chamber where an indoor water feature awaited. The water was tepid, perfect for cooling the bones after exertion and warm enough to chase away soreness. He stepped into the whispering, in-ground pond, taking a seat along the bench following the inner rim. Kills rested his skull against his chest, for once letting his silence speak for the amount of satisfaction he was experiencing. If only this moment could last forever.

If only.

~

Error had a feeling Nightmare was going to be keeping Kills over for a few days as soon as he returned downstairs to inform them the other was fast asleep in one of his guest bedrooms. Red chuckled.

“Didja show him a few things, tentacles?” He asked, winking at Nightmare. Red was far past a few drinks in. He was feeling particularly amorous, and definitely open to suggestions, so he was more than happy to relent control over Kills to Nightmare for a while. They chatted for a while before the two departed, Error opting to drive a thoroughly buzzed Red home.

Boss was busy reading the news on his tablet while idly sipping on decaf coffee. He couldn’t help the soft smile that tugged at his lips when he heard his brother returning with Error. The lock clicked, and Red’s laughter filled the space.

“It sounds like you enjoyed yourselves,” Boss said, not looking up from the article. Error sighed.

“It was good, but I’m tired. Is that cof-coffee?”

“It’s decaf. I can brew some that’s caffeinated if you’d like.”

“Bro, we left Kills with the octopus.”

“You what…?” Boss turned off his tablet. “Tell me you’re joking.”

“He’s not. Nightmare has everything under con-control, though,” Error said, taking a seat on the couch, hand finding his sore middle.

“Hmm.” Boss made his way into the kitchen, prepping the grinder for more coffee beans. “Are you certain it was the best idea to leave him behind? He could be a liability.”

“They’re just fuckin’, Boss. It’s fine.”

Boss scoffed. “That makes me feel so much better, brother. Thank you for enlightening me about their bedroom activities.”

Error couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him. The couch felt like it would swallow him with the cushions being so soft, and honestly, he wouldn’t mind. His energy levels were drained. At this rate his progeny would be born asking for a cup of dark roast coffee with extra cream and sugar. If Error was an addict before then he didn’t want to know what he was now.

“How’s my baby mama?” Red purred, settling himself beside him. Error groaned and leaned into Red, finding one of his big hands to intertwine phalanges with. He still wore those gaudy rings and Error loved it, but he wouldn’t tell Red that. His ego was already big enough as it was.

“Very sleepy.”

“Aw, darlin’.” Red kissed the side of his skull.

“...and a little horny,” Error whispered.

“Oh, are ya now?” A hand covered the one over Error’s midsection. “Ya wanna go ta bed, sweetheart? I’ll grab yer coffee when it’s ready.”

“You know…I’d like that,” Error admitted, allowing Red to lift him up from the couch and carry him to their shared room. Red showed him how appreciated he was and ended their evening with massaging Error’s spine, which had since begun to ache with the constant addition of ecto. Error was certain he was deep in this now, being spooned by his larger partner, feeling like nothing could touch him.

It scared him a little, the intensity of the emotions he experienced with the other. On the other hand, he craved the warmth culminating in his chest which only grew as he focused on Red’s arms around him. He couldn’t deny it anymore.

He was in love with Red.

Notes:

Part two will be coming out soon! Thank you for reading. :) I appreciate your comments <3

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