A/N: And here's chapter 2. Sorry in advance for the short chapters so far. Easier to find motivation to type them up that way. They'll get longer as crap starts to hit the fan, though.
Chapter 2
"Red! Get up! We've got to get ready for school!"
Joke's on him-he'd watched the sky steadily grow lighter through the guest room's wall of windows for the past hour or so, stuck in that breezy, buzzed state between awake and asleep.
He dropped the empty bottle, finding satisfaction in its dull thump against the thick carpet. He hopped up-whoops, too far, was there always a wall there? Oh right. Not his house. Not his room.
He pushed away from it, stretching as tall as his small frame could manage, back and joints popping deliciously. He decided, not for the first time, that he liked this swishy feeling, like bubbles in his nonexistent stomach.
"Red!"
Ohright. Focus. Uniform. He made a face, padding towards the closet, where he'd dumped his duffle. What kind of dorky-ass school needed a uniform, anyway? Were they afraid all the students would wander off without them, like ducklings?
He grinned at the image. "Quack."
He couldn't hold it in at that, it was just too ridiculous. He sat down hard on his rear in front of the closet, giggling like it was the funniest thing he ever heard in his life. He still managed to pull his duffle the rest of the way to him, somehow.
It took a couple of tries to find what he was looking for, and even more to get each piece on the right body part in the right order. Satisfied at that he was the epitome of a proper schoolboy in his proper monkey suit, he snagged his keys off the nightstand, marching out to meet his cousin.
Sans, already immaculate of course, took one look at him and sighed, a sharp blast out his nose. Kinda like an elephant, 'cept Sans was sans a trunk. He couldn't help it. The giggle fit started all over again, though he miraculously managed to stay on his feet this time.
"...You're drunk, aren't you?"
"Eeeeeyup." He got why humans liked to say that now. It just sorta rolled off the tongue, in a nice way that felt good against his teeth.
Sans clicked his at him, conjured blue flashing behind the white as he fussed, smoothing a few creases out of Red's (untucked) shirt, straightening his jacket. Even tying his tie, despite Red's groan of protest.
"Are ya done now, mom?" he grumbled. He definitely wasn't pouting, though. He wasn't a babybones.
"Close enough. Come on. We gotta hurry or we'll be late for the bus."
"Pfft, screw the bus." He held up his keys, jingling them in Sans's face. "Got a car, squirt."
Sans looked at him as if he'd just swore in front of the principal. "I can't drive, and you're drunk!"
"Can't drive?" Red pulled his hand back, tossing his keys to Sans with surprising accuracy. "Put on your big boy pants, kid. You gon' learn."
"I c-can't! Are you crazy?!"
"Noooo, I'm drunk." He winked, weaving his way towards the front door. Sans checked his watch, groaned, and followed after, gripping the keys in a way that had to hurt.
Despite Sans's high pitched running commentary ("Oh stars Red we're gonna die your first day here and I'm gonna accidentally kill you in a horrible car crash I'm sorry I'm sososorry!") that went on, completely oblivious to Red's expert assurances ("Eyes on the road, squirt! Face our potential deaths like a monster, not a babybones!") they arrived safely at school, with plenty of time to spare.
Sans more or less jumped from the car the second it was parked, breathing as if he'd run the entire way. He pressed a small hand over his chest, almost wheezing. Grinning, Red slung an arm around his shoulders, soul warm with affectionate pride.
"Attaboy. Knew you could do it."
Sans shoved the keys back into his hand. "Never again! Stars, I hate you so much right now."
"Love ya too, squirt."
Catching his breath at last, Sans turned back to the car, as if looking for something. Red was one step ahead; he held Sans's bag out to him, still grinning. The smaller snatched it back, primly adjusting his glasses.
"Come on, jerk. You don't want to be late on your first day."
"Whyyyyy? 'Fraid I'll make ya look bad?"
Sans slanted a look at him, completely unimpressed. "No. It's just bad form."
Red wanted to laugh it off, but he'd come down off his buzz enough to admit, at least to himself, that Sans was right. It was such a little thing, but if he really wanted all this to be a proper do over, getting off (ha) on the right foot with his teachers was the first step. Showing up late wouldn't exactly earn him their good graces, not in a strict and proper school like this. So, for once in his life he shut his smart mouth, easily falling into step beside his cousin.
They'd barely gotten inside, when some tall asshole had the gall to steal his cousin's glasses right off his face from behind, quick as you please.
So. It was that kind of school, was it? Quick as they were, Red was quicker; he turned smartly on his heel, fist smashing into the dickbag's ribcage before they could even think about running off, knocking 'em on their ass with a satisfying thud. Red caught Sans's glasses with his magic like a proper fucking hero, his still semi-drunk mind already supplying the deserved level of appreciation and awe.
As usual, reality was much different. Sans snatched his glasses back, glaring at him like he was the bad guy. "Red! That's my boyfriend."
His...whuh? Said boyfriend groaned from the floor, holding his ribs. Whoops. "Oops. Sorry. Good thing I didn't go for the face then, eh big guy?" Thankfully, the guy cracked a small smile at that, readily accepting Red's offered hand. He pulled him up-jeez, he was big. Opposites attract, he guessed.
"Okay there, Stretch?"
"Papyrus," Sans corrected shortly, right eye sparking blue for a brief second. Whoops indeed. "His name is Papyrus."
"Heh, yeah. What he said," Papyrus confirmed, shaking the hand still in his grip. "So you're the cousin. I think I like you already."
Red snorted. Funny jolly orange giant, wasn't he? "D'ya normally say that to a guy who just knocked you on your ass?"
"Eh? Not normally, no." Papyrus grinned, bright and infectious. "It's never happened before."
Wow, Stretch. How d'you get through doorways with that ego? "Savor the feelin', Stretch. In the interest of not being murdered in my sleep by the squirt, it won't be happenin' again."
"Fair enough," he allowed with a wink. Sans groaned, grabbing his boyfriend's arm, pulling him along.
"Come on, you two. Classes will be starting any minute."
Pap rolled his eye lights, heaved a fake sigh, but went along with his small boyfriend tamely enough. He took his arm back, only to wrap it around Sans's shoulders, pulling him close. Sans, in turn, leaned into him, sliding an arm around his narrow waist. The movements were completely natural, neither breaking stride-like they did this every day. Hell, they probably did.
Red felt his soul pulse painfully, sharp but not unexpected. They were exactly the sort of sickly sweet couple he and...and Boss would've made fun of together. The sort of couple Red secretly envied.
But it hadn't been all bad, had it? A quiet, deceptively reasonable-sounding voice in his head said. No, it hadn't. In fact those two years had been the best of his life. But then Boss had to go throw them, all of them, the good and the bad, away like trash when he...Red shoved those thoughts, those memories, away. Good or bad, they didn't matter anymore. Right here mattered. Right now mattered. He had his whole life ahead of him. Damned if he was gonna waste any of it mourning something that obviously never meant as much as he thought it did.
He pushed forward, wishing he had just pled sickness and stayed in bed that morning.
A/N: Tfw your boyfriend tries to be cute and your overprotective cousin punches the shit out of him. Also, poor Red. Don't worry, though, there will be a happy ending to all this angst. Eventually. More to come.
