Strange Magic
by pumpkinpye

(AN: Okay, so, the first of my one-shots. This one is a little mature: a little making out, some mention of sex, nothing too racy. But you've been warned :D Enjoy!)

Frisk woke suddenly to darkness and warmth. For a moment she was tempted just to drift back to sleep and leave the mystery as to where she was for another time, but something was bothering her. She lay on a couch under a blanket but…she wasn't alone. There was a solidness pressed against her, between her body and the back cushions, and if it wasn't exactly comfortable it was at least sort of familiar. Pursing her lips she sent a hand questing, determined to find out who she had cuddled up with in the moments before the bottle of wine she'd drunk had finally caught up with her…

Clothing. Cool bone. She went a little further, searching for something definitive.

A hand, one barely bigger than one of her own. Sans.

She closed her eyes with a sigh. Of course.

It had been almost two weeks since the day he'd agreed to help her with her art project—two weeks since she'd given in to the unexpected temptation to kiss him briefly on the mouth.

Two weeks since things between them had stopped being comfortable.

Sans had been doing his very best, she knew, not to make a big deal of it—but she knew it had already changed their entire friendship. In the moment she'd kissed him she'd all but admitted that she liked him. And he in return had admitted that, had circumstances been different, he definitely would've kissed her back.

But then Papyrus had come home. And that had been the end of it.

They'd seen each other a few times since then but there had been no opportunity to talk about what had happened. So it just continued to hang over them, poisoning every one of their interactions. She was almost starting to wish she hadn't given in...

But she had. And there was no going back. She let out a long, silent sigh.

And then, in spite of her headache, in spite of the fact that she was still a little drunk, she shuffled her way through the blankets until she'd spooned up behind her couch-mate, encircling him with her arms. He was bony; he was pointy; he was cold. For an instant she wondered if it was even physically possible for them to have a relationship.

Then with a gasp he was awake.

"P-pap…?" he croaked in a whisper.

She moved her hand until she was touching one of his fingers. He brushed the digit along her knuckle, searching sleepily for the answer to his question…and then he went very still.

She lay her forehead against the back of his skull and waited, knowing it would take him only a moment to decide what to do. It would be easy for him to apparate away; in fact that was probably the smartest thing he could do at the moment—she was still kind of drunk, plus she had intruded on his personal space without so much as a may I? She wouldn't blame him if he chose to put a little distance between them.

But he didn't disappear. He simply lay stiff as a board in her arms, not leaving but not entirely committed to staying. The seconds passed like hours.

And then, eventually, he relaxed.

Frisk let out a breath against the back of his neck and couldn't help a small smile as he shuddered. At least that hadn't changed in two weeks. "You're pointy," she murmured to him quietly. "And bony. And not very warm."

"Well, I am a skeleton," he mumbled back. "Not sure what you expected."

She hummed softly and, giving him plenty of time to object, began to trace the feel of his ribs beneath his shirt. His head lolled encouragingly and his breath began to stutter. "Uh, Frisk...um, what're you..."

"Exploring. I know the timing isn't great." She ran her fingers firmly up his sternum, earning herself a faint, sighing moan that made her skin prickle pleasantly. "You can say no if you want to; I'm not exactly sober and there are, like, four people sleeping upstairs. But I just thought maybe we ought to take this opportunity, since we've had precious few others, to figure out what happens next."

His jaw was such an interesting shape; she touched her lips to his jawbone, spurred on by the way he shifted automatically to give her more access. It was strange; she never would've figured skeletons could feel things like this. If not for painting him she might never have realized, and then maybe none of this would've happened. It was funny how one small revelation could change absolutely everything…

"Frisk. Frisk, wait; stop." He lifting shaking hands to urge her fingers away. "I, uh…I need to move."

"Move?"

"Yeah; move." She heard the shifting of the blanket before she saw the silhouette of his skull in the gray pre-dawn light starting to filter into the room. And then he was lying down again, this time facing her. She could almost feel his smile widening as his arms settled around her beneath the cover, his bony legs and feet tangling themselves with her flesh-covered ones. "You're so hot, like an oven," he mumbled. "You aren't, uh, gonna burn me, are you?"

She didn't have to be sober to know he wasn't talking about their temperature difference. "Only if you promise not to give me the cold shoulder tomorrow."

"I don't make promises, remember?"

He was poking fun at her. She scowled and scratched at his ribs, chuckling breathily as he grabbed for her hands. "Hey, none of that," he warned her, still squirming. "If it's a tickle fight you're looking for we're definitely gonna want to take this somewhere else."

She snickered, feeling suddenly light-headed. And then, to shut him up, she kissed him.

It was, unsurprisingly, nothing like kissing a human. He had no lips; just teeth and bone. She pressed her mouth against them, not sure for a moment if she was doing it right.

And then, unexpectedly, there was warmth. Her eyes flew open and she started backward an inch, feeling the pressure of his hands against her back. He was grinning in the blue light from his eye as it flared and flickered at her; she stared in surprise, not sure what was going on. "Sans; what…?"

"Magic," he whispered. "I've had two weeks to think about this; and, believe me, I thought about it a lot. Not that I never thought about it before now, but that was before I ever thought I had a chance…" He trailed off and cleared his throat. "Anyway, I think I've figured out a way to make stuff like this more comfortable for your squishy body. I'm hoping it'll, uh, feel kinda good, too. Just…just let me know, okay? I, uh…this'll be the first time I've ever done something like this."

"Um…okay." She tried to settle back against him comfortably, attempting to ignore the butterflies in her stomach. "So, what do I…?"

"Nothing. Just what you were doing. Just, uh, let me know if it isn't working."

"Um…all right." She leaned in toward him again, lips pursed faintly, not sure what to expect.

Warmth again. Movement. If she kept her eyes closed it almost felt like a pair of lips against her own, and now she could feel the flicker of his magic against her cheeks, and then warmth against the rest of her as his hands began to travel. She sighed, feeling her body start to respond. Oh yes, this was nice… She put her own hands out to touch him in return and could feel odd little eddies of his magic swirl through her fingers. She ran her palms over the outside of his shirt, massaging his spine, his ribs, and smiled as she heard him try unsuccessfully to muffle a moan. They weren't going to be able to keep this up for much longer a distant part of her brain realized; but making out was definitely a fun way to pass the time…

"Ah, Frisk…w-wait…I, ahh…" He pushed her back and she was surprised to see the bluish flush of the magic wreathing around him like an undulating layer of skin. "I, ahh…think I might've overdone it a little with the magic. You okay?"

"I'm fine." She frowned at him faintly. "Are you okay?"

"I, uh...yeah, I'm…I'm fine…"

She shifted a little, trying to get a little more comfortable as he continued to struggle against what she assumed was an excess of the magic he'd conjured. As her knee brushed against one of his legs, however, he hissed like she'd burned him and gave a small moan. "Ahh, Frisk…w-wait… I can't dispel it..."

"Uh oh. Is that bad?"

"Not sure. Just…just gimme a minute…"

She watched in silence for a few moments as he closed his eyes, trying to regain his focus enough to hopefully solve the problem. It wasn't long, however, before she noticed that tendrils of the energy were still reaching out for her. Curious, she let them lick over her skin…

And felt a sudden, unexpected wave of…something ripple over her skin. Then it came again and she couldn't help a soft moan. Oh god, what…?

"F-frisk…what're you…oh…oh god…"

It happened very quickly. One moment they were trapped together in his excess energy; Frisk couldn't help reaching for him, moaning as his hands were suddenly on her as well. For an instant all she could feel was every touch of his body against her, every point of contact burning and aching as they writhed together in an eternity of seconds…

And then, without warning, she cried out as her body peaked at so much stimulation, the magic breaking and releasing into the room with a rattle of glass and picture frames. Sans, too, seemed to have reached some peak; he was gripping her tightly, his face pressed firmly into her shirt, his breath still coming out in heavy gasps…but at least the energy was spent.

She resisted the urge to laugh in relief; she had a feeling Sans wouldn't appreciate her mirth at the moment. "Sans," she prodded softly, "you okay?"

"Uhhgh," he moaned quietly. "That wasn't supposed to happen; sorry. Please tell me you're not hurt…"

"I'm not hurt," she assured him. "That…felt really good, actually."

"It was supposed to. I was just supposed to be able to control it better, and shut it down without having to release it. I…I hope we didn't wake anyone up."

"BROTHER…?"

They froze in each other's arms.

"BROTHER, WHAT WAS THAT? ARE YOU USING YOUR MAGIC DOWN HERE?"

"Uh…uh, yeah, Pap. S'okay, though; problem solved. Just a little…something I had to take care of. Go back to bed."

"A…ALL RIGHT, IF YOU'RE SURE. BUT PLEASE TRY TO REFRAIN FROM USING YOUR MAGIC IN THE FUTURE WHILE EVERYONE IS SLEEPING. AND IF YOU WOULDN'T MIND BEING A LITTLE QUIETER ABOUT MAKING OUT WITH THE HUMAN ON THE COUCH I'M SURE EVERYONE WOULD APPRECIATE THAT, TOO."

"Yeah, dorks! Be considerate! Even I'm not that loud!"

Frisk felt her face flame and glanced at Sans, unsurprised to see him looking just as mortified as she felt. They stared at each other for several moments in silence…

Until a voice emanated from the master bedroom, one that made Frisk feel about seven years old. "Children…"

There was deafening silence. Sans seemed to be turning an interesting shade of green.

"…I do believe I won our bet. Alphy, Undyne, Papyrus—you all owe me twenty dollars; I'll expect my money in the morning. But right now, if everyone doesn't mind, I would like to go back to sleep. So, Sans and Frisk…"

Frisk wasn't sure she would've been able to make a sound even if she'd wanted to. Sans seemed to be trying to disappear into the couch.

"…I'm glad you've finally worked out your mutual attraction; next time don't take two weeks about it. And, if you don't mind, please wait until you've reached one or other of your bedrooms to rattle any more windows."

Laughter rolled through the upstairs. Frisk buried her head under the blanket…and discovered Sans there, too. She smiled faintly. "Busted," she whispered.

He chuckled softly. "Wanna get out of here?"

Moments later the downstairs was empty and silent. The only movement came from a blanket fluttering to the floor…

…and that, too, soon came to rest as all unsettled things were wont to do.