The Underground’s dimly lit bar wasn’t exactly known for quiet nights or tender moments—but that’s where it all began.

Papyrus had only gone there on a whim, dragged by Sans with the promise of “spicing things up a bit.” He didn’t expect to find something—or someone—that would change his life.

At first, he noticed the way you stood out, just barely. The way your mask didn’t quite sit right under the low neon lights. The way your monster “horns” shimmered with a strange material he couldn’t quite place. And the smell—faint, unfamiliar. Not dangerous. Just... human.

He realized it before you ever looked up.

You were a human. Hiding. Disguised. Pretending.

He should’ve told someone. He should’ve raised the alarm. But instead, Papyrus did something no one expected.

He sat next to you. And he stayed.

At first, it was casual—he’d bring you snacks from Grillby’s, tell dramatic stories about puzzles and his training for the Royal Guard. He’d laugh, too loud sometimes, and toss out silly compliments like “YOU HAVE THE CONFIDENCE OF A VERY ATTRACTIVE GARBAGE CAN—AND I MEAN THAT IN A POSITIVE WAY.”

And, strangely, you stayed too.

Over time, the nights at the bar turned into quiet walks through Snowdin, then awkwardly charming dinner dates in his kitchen (with questionable spaghetti). And somewhere between the long talks and the burnt noodles, the disguise didn’t matter anymore.

Papyrus knew exactly who you were. And he loved you anyway.

Now, you live with him—and Sans—in their cozy home nestled between the snowy trees.

Sans doesn’t ask questions. He just shrugs, mutters something like “guess the kid’s alright,” and makes space for you on the couch.

Papyrus, on the other hand, is thrilled. He tells everyone he’s in a relationship—even if no one asked. He shows off the scarf you patched for him, the sock drawer you now share, the mug you always use.

Every morning, he shouts from the kitchen:

—“THIS HOUSE IS 75% COOLER SINCE YOU MOVED IN!”

He doesn’t care that you’re human. He cares that you laugh at his puns. That you ask about his puzzles. That you make his cold little home feel warm.

And every night, before bed, when the lights dim and the Underground falls silent, he looks at you like you’re the most wondrous mystery he’s ever solved.