Sans/Toriel 30 Day OTP Challenge

Day Three: The Reveal

prompt: "When your OTP confessed their feelings. Or were their feelings originally a secret until someone else intervened?"

notes: oh god this one is so ridiculous and I'm sorry. I hope I haven't made Frisk too annoying, lol - tbh I'm not usually a fan of the "matchmaking kid" trope, but I figured here it's pretty much canon, so... Also, I kind of suck at writing Papyrus (which upsets me bc he's my fave), but I'm trying to kind of ease into it because I want him to be in other chapters? but yeah, constructive criticism is always welcome!

I'm gonna try for Friday updates from now on btw! obviously, RL is a thing that might disrupt that, but just in case anyone was curious c:


"Mom?"

"Yes, my child?"

"Do you like Sans?"

"Why, of course I do, dear," Toriel answered, as she continued stirring the big, delicious-smelling pot on the stove. "He is one of my dearest friends. Now, where did I put those spices?"

Somehow, Frisk knew she'd say that. "No, Mom," they said patiently, "I mean – do you like him? Like, as more than just a friend?"

"Hmm?" There was a long silence, and then their mother let out a suspiciously nervous giggle, the spoon clanking against the pot as she stirred more vigorously. "Why...why on earth would you ask that, my child?"

"Aww, you do!" Frisk broke out into a grin, bouncing excitedly up and down in their chair – this was just so perfect. "I knew it. When are you going to tell him? I could help – you could write a note, or..."

"Frisk." Finally, Toriel turned away from the stove, and Frisk fell silent as she fixed them with her 'that's enough' look. "I am pleased that you have such an active imagination, but Sans and I are just friends. There will not be any notes or grand declarations of love. Certainly not from me, at least. In any case..." She resumed her cooking, now stirring so fast it reminded Frisk of Undyne. "Not that it need concern you, but I am far too old for such things. Someone as sweet and funny as Sans can surely..."

Frisk flashed her a knowing smile as they caught their mother's eye over her shoulder, wiggling their eyebrows; Toriel scoffed at them and shook her head, but they'd already spotted the blush creeping up on her cheeks. "Well, he can certainly find better than a silly old lady like me. I'm sure he will settle down with a nice young monster some day."

"Mom, you're not too old!" Frisk actually had no idea how old either of them were, or if monster years even worked like human years – but they knew it didn't matter, when two people cared about each other. Toriel deserved to be happy, and Frisk had never seen her or Sans look happier than when they were cracking awful jokes together. "Sans doesn't want a young monster, anyway – he wants you. And there's nobody nicer than you."

"Oh, Frisk!" Toriel's face softened into a smile at that, as she stepped away from the stove to ruffle Frisk's already-messy hair, planting a loving kiss on the top of their head. "You are as sweet as pie. Speaking of which, dinner is almost ready. You should go and wash up."

"Yes, Mom." Frisk knew better than to argue, but they lingered in the doorway for a few seconds anyway. "Hey, you should say that to Sans, you know! He'd love – "

"Now, Frisk."

"Okay, I'm going!"

But, as Frisk bounded up the stairs, a genius plan was already beginning to form in their head.


"Saaaans?" Frisk sing-songed, in their best 'I'm going to ask you a favour' voice.

"Mmhmmmm?" he replied, in his 'I'm probably not going to do it but I'll humour you for a while' voice, which conveniently was just his normal voice.

"You like Mom, right?"

"Sure." Sans opened one eye to find himself face to face with the kid, smiling hopefully. "What's she need?"

"Oh no, she's fine, it's nothing like that!" Frisk took that as an invitation to hop up on the couch next to him. "I was just wondering...cause, you know, I think my mom really likes you, too."

"Okay?" Sans had a pretty good idea what they were getting at, but maybe if he played dumb for long enough he could change the subject to literally anything else. "I mean, yeah, we're good buds. We hang out all the –"

"Sans," Frisk interrupted, kicking him in the tibia with a surprising amount of force for someone so supposedly merciful. "Don't be a bonehead. You know what I mean – I can see right through you, remember?"

Sans chuckled, reluctantly shuffling upright into a sitting position – annoying as they were right now, he'd taught the kid well. "Touché, kiddo. So...what's your point?"

"I think you should ask her out. On a date."

"Noted. But here's an alternative: we don't do that, and you let me go back to sleep and..." he tried to think of something human, "go eat some spoiled food or something."

"Oh!" Frisk gasped, clasping their hands to their mouth dramatically like they'd been watching too much MTT TV. "But what if I did eat spoiled food, and get really sick, and then I told Mom that you told me to do it? Can't you just imagine how disappointed she'd be then, Sans?"

"Jeez, kid – that's how it is?" Sans was rapidly reconsidering his initial judgement: Frisk was clearly pure evil, smirking like they had him and they knew it – no sane monster or human wanted to incur the wrath of Toriel's disappointed face. "You really don't give up, do you?"

"Nope," they replied cheerfully.

"And you're...you're really serious about me and your mom, huh?"

"Yup!" Realising he wasn't getting out of this any time soon, Sans let out a groan as Frisk patted him on the head condescendingly. "Don't worry, Sans. You're gonna do great. I'm here to help you..." They leaned in closer and took both of his hands in their little fleshy ones, all the while maintaining an intense and slightly disturbing level of eye contact, "express your true feelings."

"Uh...huh." Sans lifted a sceptical brow bone. "Alright, then, buddy. Whaddaya got for me?"

"That's the spirit!" Frisk beamed and clapped their hands together, looking way too prepared for this. "I was thinking we'd start with a little roleplaying."

"...Come again?"

"You know – to practice what you're gonna say to Mom when you ask her out!"

Okay, Sans figured, maybe that wouldn't be so bad, just for an entirely hypothetical...

"So – you be Mom and I'll be you."

Scratch that – it was much, much worse. "Uh...why can't I be me?"

"It just works better this way. Trust me," they added, unconvincingly, "I know what I'm doing. I helped Alphys and Undyne get it together, remember? But don't worry, I don't think Mom will throw you into a trash can, unless you really make her mad. Just give me a second to get into character."

Frisk jumped off the sofa and shuffled onto their knees, before baring their teeth in a disconcerting...smile? They looked more like the Snowdin dogs when someone mentioned the word "cat", and Sans snorted, somewhere between amused and bemused.

"Is this supposed to be me?"

"I'm a method actor. Pretty close to the bone, am I right?" Frisk winked, before clearing their throat and continuing in a drawl several octaves deeper than their normal voice: "Heyyy, Tori! So what's, um, goat-ing on?"

Okay, that was both impressively terrible and a not-half-bad impression, so he'd play along. "Hello, Sans!" he trilled in his best royal falsetto that didn't really sound anything like Toriel. "It is a pleasure to see you!"

Apparently he'd said something right, because Frisk-as-Sans (Fri-Sans?) smiled and nodded encouragingly. "It is?"

"Why, of course," Sans-as-Toriel (Soriel? Things had gotten real weird, real fast) replied. "It is always a pleasure to see a good friend. It is wonderful that we are such very good friends, is it not?"

"Uhhh, sure," Frisk said, ignoring his heavy emphasis on friends. "Anyway, Tori, l was just wondering – do you like raisins?"

"...Maybe? I dunno? What's that got do with –"

"Then how do you feel about a date?"

Sans let out a pfffft, shaking his head because he should've seen that one coming, but somehow it was still kind of genius, and he wasn't even breaking character because he was sure it'd definitely tickle Toriel's funny bone too, even if he'd never seriously try it on her. "Okay, kid, that's actually –"

"I'm not kid, I'm Sans, remember, Tori?" Frisk narrowed their eyes, creepy grin still in place as they planted their hands on their hips. "So, what do you say?"

Tough crowd. "Oh, Sans!" Sans coughed and attempted some kind of vaguely goat-like whinny in what was, judging by the way Frisk wink, a poor attempt at Toriel's laugh."You are too much!"

"You like that one? I got more." Frisk screwed up their face for a moment like they were concentrating hard. "Tori – did you just come out of the oven? Because you're hot."

Sans buried his face in his hands, now sounding more like a dying goat than a laughing one, which was probably closer to reality anyway."I can't say that to her – I mean, me?"

"No, wait, Tori, wanna come to Grillby's with me? Know what's on the menu?"

"I suppose...?"

"Me 'n' you." Frisk winked and pointed double finger-guns at him, and Sans couldn't help but feel a little twinge of pride as he finally raised both arms in mock surrender.

"Alright, alright, kid, that's enough," he said in his own voice, still chuckling weakly. "You're killing me here. I'm not sure your mom's ready for such smooth moves – you should probably just hang on to those, y'know, for emergencies. I think you can use them better than I can."

"But I picked them out for you." Frisk's face fell as they got to their feet, eyes big and accusing, and Sans felt like he'd just kicked a puppy in the face. "Was I wrong? Do you really not feel the same about Mom?"

Sans sighed – he didn't want to lie to the kid, and he wasn't sure they'd have bought it anyway. "No, kid – Frisk – listen. Okay, so maybe I do like Tori. I mean she's..." – kind, beautiful, funny, smart, strong, amazing and so obviously out of his league he generally tried not to think about it – "great. But just think about it - she's the queen. She was married to Asgore. I'm..." He managed a self-deprecating laugh, scratching awkwardly at his cheekbone as though that could somehow get rid of the blush he could feel growing there. "Kind of a downgrade, don't you think? But that's not the real problem," he continued, before they could argue. "Say I do ask her out, and she says no – or maybe we date for a while but it doesn't work out. What happens then – we can't hang out any more without everything being awkward? I don't wanna do that to her – or to you. She's my best friend, we have a ton of fun and that's...enough, you know? Why would I want to risk losing her just for the slight possibility that she might...that she's crazy enough to want the same?"

Sans hadn't planned on saying any of that – he didn't even think he had any guts to spill, in the most literal sense – but it was actually kind of a relief to get it off his sternum, with Frisk listening with their familiar, seemingly indifferent but weirdly reassuring expression.

"Sans," they said quietly after a moment, and as their eyes met, just for a second he caught a glimpse of a soul much older and wiser than their young body, "you know how much Mom cares about you, right? Even if she did say no – which she definitely won't –she'll always want to be friends with you, no matter what. You're the only one who actually laughs at her jokes, after all." They smiled, but then let out a long sigh, flopping back down onto the couch next to him like they were totally exhausted. "This is harder than I thought. I was kind of hoping, by now, you'd be making a big speech about how awesome Mom is and how you were sure she'd never love you back because of your crippling emotional issues, and then she'd suddenly walk in and hear everything and at first you'd be like "oh my god" but she'd be like "it's okay, I feel the same" and then you'd kiss and everything would be perfect. Just like Alphys and Undyne...well, kind of."

Definitely watching too much MTT TV, but Sans grinned fondly back at them and gently bumped his head against Frisk's in solidarity. "Sorry, kiddo. But sometimes things just don't work out how you want –"

The door rattled like someone was trying to get in, making them both jump, and Frisk's face immediately brightened up again.

"Ooh, maybe that's her now! Maybe she did hear!"

They had to be kidding. "Kid, if you're telling me you set this up, I swear I'll..."

Before Sans could finish his threat, Papyrus burst through the door in a typically understated fashion, clutching a bunch of skeleton teddy bears and wearing his '#1 MASCOT' baseball cap backwards. "Sans! Human! Look at all this cool stuff they gave me!"

Sans and Frisk glanced at each other shiftily, and Papyrus narrowed his sockets at them over the top of his neon shades. "Why are you two staring at me like that? Wait, I know! Could it be...you were planning a surprise party in honour of my twenty-seventh day as official mascot of monsterkind?!"

"Uh, yeah, damn," Sans said quickly, "you totally caught us, bro, that's too –"

"Actually," Frisk interrupted, smiling like the demon child from hell they were, "we were just practicing for Sans' big date."

Papyrus' jaw dropped, and if Sans had a heart it would have sank.

"Oh my god, what?! Is this a joke? Wait! Let me get the book!"

His brother clattered off upstairs, and Sans decided he needed a date with a big, fat bottle of ketchup or several right about now. "Oh, hey, you know, I think I left my hoodie at Grillby's last night. Better go get it."

Frisk side-eyed him (they were good at that). "You're wearing your hoodie."

"I meant my other hoodie."

He was out of the door before they had a chance to point out that he only owned three items of clothing, just in time to hear Frisk yell after him: "You can't hide from your feelings forever, Sans!"

Sans could sure as hell try his best to teleport away from them, though.


"Wowie! She was a fusion the whole time?!"

Initially, Toriel had had her doubts when Frisk suggested a cartoon Alphys had recommended as after-dinner viewing – some of those animations, or whatever they were called, were most definitely not suitable for children. After several episodes, however, she was charmed by the sight of her child enjoying themselves so as the four of them sat on her sofa, cosily close together without being squashed; Frisk and Papyrus both on the edge of their seats, transfixed by the magical ladies dancing across the screen and punching each other, often at the same time, while Sans was on her other side, relaxing back against the cushions with a sleepy but contented smile. Every now and then, as their respective relatives gasped and clutched each other when something apparently significant happened, she would catch his eye and they shared a fondly amused smile – and oh, how Toriel had missed this. At moments like these, she almost hardly dared believe her life was real, that she had been given a second chance for the one thing she had truly longed for, all those years in the Ruins: a family.

"I know, right?" Frisk bounced excitedly up and down in their seat as the episode ended, before hopping off the sofa and tugging on Papyrus' bony arm. "Oh, Papy! Remember that puzzle I was going to show you in my room?"

"No – oh wait, yes! That puzzle!" The two of them exchanged very unsubtle, and somehow audible winks, and Toriel realised at once what they were up to. She tutted mildly as they hastily retreated upstairs, leaving herself and Sans to exchange awkward smiles.

"They'll sleep tonight, huh?"

"One would hope so," Toriel replied, feeling her smile wavering – she had rather hoped they could avoid this conversation, but she could feel the weight of her feelings hanging heavy on her heart, stretching out into this unfamiliar, increasingly uncomfortable tension between them that she knew would not go away unless she said something.

"Sans, I...there is something I should probably tell you," she began, butterflies stirring in her stomach in anticipation of his reaction. "I'm afraid Frisk appears to have gotten it into their head that you and I are – or perhaps that we should be – "

"...Dating?" Sans finished for her, confirming her suspicions, and Toriel offered a vaguely apologetic smile as her eyes met his sockets and she felt her cheeks heating up.

"Ah, yes, indeed. I must have a talk with them about...about proper boundaries." Toriel swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. "I really am sorry if Frisk has been bothering you, or has made you uncomfortable – or if I am doing so now. It was not my intention to..."

"Tori, it's fine, seriously. You got one very, uh, determined kid there, you know that?" Sans chuckled, not quite meeting her eyes this time. "But it doesn't bother me, I mean, it's funny in a way. Well, not funny – the idea of you and me ever being, y'know, but...yeah. I mean, it's nice that they're trying to help, even if they're wrong. Well – heh – maybe not totally wrong. But it doesn't have to be a big deal, right? I'm pretty good at pretending stuff never happened, if that's – if that's what you wanna do...?"

Toriel frowned, trying to keep up – she'd rarely heard Sans say quite so much, so quickly before, but if she had heard him correctly...

"Sans," she said gently, trying to stay calm despite her heart pounding in her chest in anticipation of what he may or may not have been about to say, "you do know you can tell me anything, do you not? I value our friendship very much, and I...I do not wish there to be any secrets between us."

She looked deep into his sockets, and saw his ever-present smile freeze for a moment before he let out another strained laugh, ducking away from her gaze and pinching where his nose would have been, if he'd had one. "Okay – you know what, kid, you win. Guess I've gotta ask now, haven't I? So, Tori..."

Toriel leaned forward encouragingly, sure that her heart was about to burst. "Yes, Sans?"

"Do you like raisins?"

"...Pardon me?" She blinked, bemused – whatever she had been expecting him to say next, it certainly was not that. "Well...yes, I do like raisins, actually! They are quite versatile, especially in oatmeal cookies."

"Great, yeah, me too. In that case..." Toriel never imagined that a skeleton could blush – and least of all that Sans would, especially around her of all people – but she had to admit, a light dusting of blue across the cheekbones was a rather adorable look on him. "How'd you feel about a date?"

"...Ah!" As the punchline connected, Toriel snorted, her laughter escaping in howling, hysterical whoops that she could not seem to control, as she could almost feel the tension pouring out of her. After a moment, however, she became aware that something was wrong – that, for once, Sans was not laughing with her.

"I could certainly be partial to a date," she told him, manging to compose herself but unable to keep the great, foolish smile from stretching across her face, "assuming, of course, that it is with you."

"Really? Uh, wow." Finally, Sans broke into a wonderfully wide, genuine grin as he let out a much higher-pitched laugh than usual – almost a giggle, as charming as the shade of cerulean on his cheeks as they smiled foolishly at each other. "That's great. I mean, that's –"

"Wow, human, you were right – that was a real cranium-scratcher!" Sans' next words were drowned out by his own brother's voice, followed by the sound of a door closing as Frisk and Papyrus tumbled down the stairs. "Luckily, the Great Papyrus is always prepared for helping his pals through even the most perilous of puzzles!"

"I did not doubt it for a second." Toriel smiled at them both as she stood up, smoothing down her dress in an attempt to look somewhat respectable, despite the flush on her cheeks. "Frisk, it is almost bedtime," she added, trying to sound stern even though she still felt a little giddy. "We have school in the morning, do we not?"

"Aww, but Mom – one more episode? Pleeease?" Frisk looked up at her with pleading eyes, before glancing suspiciously between Toriel and Sans for a moment; she could sense they were just dying to know what had happened, and dared not catch Sans' eye for fear she would laugh again.

Fortunately for her child, Toriel was feeling indulgent. "Well, okay, then – just one more."

She would still have to have that talk with Frisk, she reflected as they all squeezed back onto the sofa and Sans leaned his head against Toriel's shoulder instead of the cushions, a light but comforting touch as the familiar opening song started up. It would not do for them to start interfering in other people's romantic entanglements, after all – she could only imagine the havoc it might wreak.

But perhaps, Toriel thought as her hand found Sans' under a cushion and he interlinked their fingers, sending a long-missing secret thrill of excitement through her very soul – perhaps, later, she would also have to thank them.