Cuddle me Closer - BSP

Chpt I - Trust

[Content: Killermare smut + booti eating, a little bit of angst at the start]

Familiar, unwanted voices echoed through his mind. His tentacles sharpened as he sat, unable to move a frightened bone. The words bounced off the melted walls of his skull, memories flooding their way inside. Memories he'd rather forget
The sudden intrusion by his lonely thoughts was inconvenient, to say the least. Dropping the ink-dipped quill from his fingers, it fell onto the paper, leaving a splotch of black on the cursive writing there before it.
Calls of a kind voice, yells of a hateful crowd, whispers of spirits pleading him to continue, all jumbled over one another as his body stayed still.
All of the memories, all of the visions, the slurred sounds that resemble swears of a foreign language. He could even feel the hands against his cracking skull -

"OI, boss! OI!" Nightmare heard as he fell to the floor, a hard punch to his cold shoulder as he whipped his head around at the culprit. Standing there was a skeleton with hate running from his eyes, a massive grin with sharp fangs plastered onto his face. He seemed to wipe the negativity from his fist onto the already ruined paper Nightmare was writing on previously.
"What was that for, you twit?" Nightmare lashed out at the grinning skeleton, using his sharpened tentacles to lift himself back on foot before they relaxed to their regular posture.
"Ya looked bothered, and ya didn't respond to a slap on the face, so I 'ought a punch would do the trick!" Killer replied as he leaned against Nightmare's desk, "And look at ya now! It worked, didn't it?"

Nightmare pushed the chair back under its desk, standing behind it. "I suppose so. It does not excuse your behaviour, however."
"Oh c'mon boss! What was I supposed to do? Let ya widdle ya eyes right there?" Killer teased, "Ya had a hundred-mile stare on ya face, 'outta burst any second!"
"What are you on about?" Nightmare asked with an unimpressed expression, slowly but surely shooing Killer out of the room.
"I'm on about ya sad little face! C'mon boss, ya ain't nearly as cute when ya're sad!" the cheeky skeleton continued to tease, pressing back against Nightmare's progress by walking right back to the desk.

Nightmare's tentacles rested even more at the backhanded compliment. "If you would like to flirt with somebody, go to Underlust. We have talked about this, yet you keep coming to me for your entertainment."
"Whaddya mean by that? We talked 'bout this, and I said I wanna flirt with you, not just some horny loser!" Killer exclaimed, "Ya're so much prettier than those flingers, ya're a literal god too! Ya're bound to have some shape to ya!"
Nightmare faced away from Killer to keep his composure, the smirk on his face seeming flirtatious. Whereas it seemed to be more mischievous before. "Do not bargain with me using that charisma of yours."
"What makes ya think I'm doin' that?" Killer asks with a sarcastic tone in his voice.

A tentacle from Nightmare's back made it over to Killer's cheek, giving it a rough rub as the short skeleton turned back to face him. "Just leave. I am too tired to deal with you."
Killer glanced at the tentacle on his cheek, a hand leading up to feel it. It felt warm for some reason, and didn't flinch back upon him touching it. He held it with two hands, before it squirmed back onto his cheek.
"Do not make me regret putting it there," Nightmare warned Killer as the tentacle left a soft, dark trace from where it was previously.
A circular eyelight took place in the socket closest to the tentacle, looking at it with a quick quiver. "I won't! I pinkie promise!"
The tentacle seemed to press up against Killer in a loving manner, causing his cheeks to puff up with a soft red blush. No matter how urgently he wanted to touch it, he didn't want it to pull away.

Nightmare walked closer to him, his pinprick eyelight staring up. It didn't seem as sharp as it usually was, and it was soft and fuzzy around the edges. Another tentacle joined the previous one, curling around the other cheek, slowly luring Killer over to the reading corner of the room.
Beside the desk, there was a small section of bookshelves with a fireplace and a rocking armchair made with black, plush leather. Nightmare often sat there to relax and read, as Killer had seen him do so many times.
With a soft push of both Killer and the room's door, Killer found himself trapped against the chair. It swayed beneath him and was extremely comfortable.