You awoke at 6:03 the next morning to the sound of a door slamming and Papyrus' voice pitching wildly all the way into his room, followed by some thudding noises against the shared wall.
You shook Sans' arm. "Sans. Sans."
He made a face and pushed his head into his pillow.
You smacked the back of his pelvis. "Dude, seriously, wake up."
He rolled onto his back. "Ten minutes, 'kay Pap?"
Speak of the devil, Papyrus was now banging on Sans' bedroom door and you, for one, wanted to have clothes on when it came off the hinges or splintered in two. You straddled him in an attempt to reach the far side of the bed, but before you could dismount, bony hands grabbed your ass.
"Oh, it's this dream again, huh?"
You froze. He had one eye open, but it fluttered shut again. He adjusted his hips under you and flung an arm over his head.
"SANS! SANS YOU LAZYBONES I-YOU PICKED THE WORST POSSIBLE DAY TO SLEEP IN! LISTEN, I CALL UPON YOU IN THE NAME OF BROTHERLY CHIVALRY FOR A… A MANLY, COOL CHIT CHAT, OK? OH DEar god please help. SANS! WAKE! UP!"
Sans' eyes flew open. "Uh, sure thing bro, I'll be there in two minutes, kay? Just hold on."
You rolled off him and wrestled on your pants on the floor.
"AND WHY ARE THERE CLOTHES ON THE KITCHEN FLOOR? I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN THIS PLACE WOULD BE A HUGE MESS AS SOON AS YOU GOT HERE, I-WELL, THIS ISN'T YOURS."
Shit. You looked at Sans, horrified and helpless. He leapt out of bed and tugged on his shorts faster than you had ever seen him move.
"Uhh, just stay right there, I'll pick 'em up!"
Sans flung open the door and almost crashed into Papyrus, who was standing in the doorway.
"HA! THAT'LL BE A FIRST." He peered into the room. "OH. OH. GOOD MORNING, FRISK. I BELIEVE THIS IS YOURS."
Averting his eyes, Papyrus tossed your sweater to you, shoved the bundle of Sans' shirt and jacket at his brother, and bolted back into the kitchen, his skull roughly the same color as his scarf. If he were wearing it. This morning, he was dressed in baggy grey sweats with marinara stains on them. You had never seen him so disheveled and you had a good guess the reason's name rhymed with-
"I'm gonna get a gun."
"Sans," you admonished, turning your sweater around so it was on correctly this time. "Let's hear what Paps has to say about it before we jump to any conc-"
"You're right, this is my fault."
"Well, that's definitely not what I said but-"
"I should've called him last night as soon as you told me what he was doing over there, I could have come and gotten him, or, I dunno." He zipped up his jacket. "If we hadn't been so busy last night, maybe he wouldn't be dealing with this right now. I mean, not that I blame you. Again, it's my fault. If I were a better brother, or…shit, a better person in general… last night would have gone differently. I'm sorry."
You blinked. Well, you'd been rejected in worse ways before. Or at least, you thought you had. None sprang to mind at that moment. Then again, 24 hours ago you'd have told yourself that in the event of sex with Sans, it being labeled a mistake after the fact was an inevitability. You had simply since forgotten that the words might come from him. You didn't want to hear any more, and anyway, there was somebody in the kitchen wearing grungy clothes, desperately in need of a heart-to-heart with his brother.
Although you were relatively sure Sans hadn't meant to hurt you, you were no longer feeling welcome. It was time to go.
"Go talk to your brother, Sans. Then decide if an ass-whooping is in order." You patted him awkwardly on the shoulder. "I'm going to go home and take a shower, I feel… gross. Um, thanks for…"
Thanks for the sex which he now regrets? Thanks for the glass of water you never drank? Thanks for a weird as hell, confusing afternoon?
"Well, anyway. I'll get out of your hair," you said, already making your way to the kitchen. "Bye, Papyrus, good to see you again."
Papyrus clotheslined you with an outstretched arm while remaining completely focused on the pot of boiling water.
"OH NO, YOU DON'T, AMIGO. ALSO THAT IS A NONSENSE IDEA BECAUSE WE HAVE NO HAIR. EXCEPT WIGS. WE HAVE WIGS IN CASE OF UNDERCOVER EMERGENCIES."
You picked yourself up off the floor and saw the water begin to boil over. You realized he wasn't so much staring at the pot, as he was staring through it. You reached over and turned the heat down. Breakfast should not be cooked when one is frazzled about sex. Personally, you were planning to go home and eat a cold pop-tart. Even a toaster seemed a bit risky at the moment.
"BROTHER, THERE'S BEEN A CHANGE OF PLANS. I AM NO LONGER IN NEED OF YOUR BROTHERLY CHIVALRY. FRISK AND I ARE GOING FOR A WALK." He pulled you along out the front door so quickly you barely had time to register Sans' surprised expression and give him a shrug.
The weather was a little cooler than the day before and you wouldn't have minded another shirt on under your sweater, but the sun was shining and the wind was still, so you let the crisp morning air wake you. You had a feeling you would need your wits about you to get through this conversation.
"FRISK, YOU HAVE SUCCESSFULLY DATED MANY OTHER HUMANS, CORRECT?"
Dated, yes. Many? Debatable. Humans, not always. And successfully? That heavily depended on one's definition of success, and even then, you would need the benefit of the doubt. So, short answer? "Yes, absolutely."
"EXCELLENT. IN THAT CASE, I SHALL BEQUEATH TO YOU MY TITLE OF LOCAL DATING EXPERT."
"Oh, umm-"
"AND AS DATING EXPERT, I HUMBLY REQUEST YOUR GUIDANCE."
"Okay, well, uh… So what happened with Mettaton, Pap?"
He gasped. "WOWIE, FRISK! I THINK THAT TITLE GAVE YOU PRETERNATURAL ABILITIES! YOU CUT RIGHT TO THE HEART OF THE MATTER! HOW DID YOU EVEN KNOW METTATON AND I WERE DATING? THAT'S SUPPOSED TO BE A SECRET!"
A young couple walking their dog looked at the two of you incredulously as they passed.
"Actually I just read the note you left for Sans."
"AH, YES. 'NETFLIX AND CHILL,' FRISK. ARE YOU AWARE OF THE MEANING OF THIS?"
You nodded. "Are you?"
"OF COURSE I AM! I AM A VERY COOL GUY AND VERY HIP TO WHAT ALL THE YOUTHS ARE SAYING. WHAT, YOU DON'T BELIEVE ME? WELL LET ME ASK YOU THIS! WHO DO YOU THINK SUGGESTED IT IN THE FIRST PLACE? THIS COOL GUY!"
He grinned and poked his chest with his thumb.
You were unable to hide your surprise.
"So… what actually happened, then?"
"NOTHING! THAT'S THE PROBLEM! WHEN THE MOVIE WAS OVER, HE PUT SHEETS AND BLANKETS ON THE COUCH AND LET ME SLEEP THERE! WE WATCHED THE ENTIRETY OF ROBOCOP 5 AND THAT WAS THE MOST ACTION WITH METTATON I GOT ALL EVENING! WAS I NOT CLEAR? DID I MESS SOMETHING UP? DO I NEED TO MAKE MYSELF MORE ATTRACTIVE THAN I ALREADY AM? YOU CAN SEE WHY I NEED THE SAGE ADVICE OF OUR LOCAL DATING EXPERT!"
He had transitioned somewhere in there from his usual loud speech to shouting in earnest. You were not prepared for this. You weren't sure anything could have prepared you for this.
"You aren't mad at him about this, right Pap?"
He sighed. "NO, I'M NOT MAD. IT WAS… IT WAS A VERY NICE EVENING. IT'S ALWAYS A VERY NICE EVENING. I SIMPLY DON'T UNDERSTAND. HE SENDS OUT ALL THE RIGHT SIGNALS, WEARING CLOTHES ON OUR DATES AND MAKING ME SPAGHETTI AND TELLING ME HOW COOL I AM AND REMINDING ME HOW TALENTED AND POPULAR HE IS, I- I MEAN, IT MUST BE ME, RIGHT?"
He rubbed his skull, looking at the clouds. You had almost made a complete block, and as the two of you rounded the corner, stomping through dewy grass, Papyrus' house came into view.
"I'm sure it's not you. I'll admit, it doesn't sound much like him, but you know him better than I do. If I had to guess, though, I'd say he's probably nervous to make a move because he actually cares about you."
Papyrus blushed again.
"But um, either way, nothing will happen if you don't talk to him about it."
Hearing yourself say that made you angry. Hypocrite! Who spent the last year inot/i talking about it? Who could already feel a new, colder silence settling over last night and stretching for more?
Then again, maybe there really was nothing to talk about with Sans.
"YOU WEAR THAT TITLE SO WELL, AMIGO. I'M PROUD. WELL! HERE WE ARE. WANNA COME INSIDE FOR BREAKFAST? UNLESS THERE'S SOMETHING ELSE YOU WANT TO TALK ABOUT! LIKE WHY I WALKED IN ON YOU AND MY BROTHER THIS MORNING?"
For that matter, there was nothing more to talk about with Papyrus, either. You had never seen him look smug before; he must have picked that up from Mettaton. Now it was really time to go.
"Yeah, gonna take a rain check on that, buddy. I really do need a shower. And talk to your brother, pretty sure he assumed the worst and I know for a fact he's in there, stewing on how to kill your new boyfriend."
Papyrus waved a hand dismissively. "LET HIM STEW. WE'LL HAVE BONE SOUP FOR LUNCH! NYEH HEH HEH!"
You got in your car and went home in a daze, trying hard not to be burnt about the whole morning. It was too late, though. By the time you pulled into your parking space, you were bitter char.
What was that bullshit line he'd fed you last night about running out of reasons to regret? What was the theme of last night's whole conversation if not not regretting? And what did he do at the first sign of trouble?
"Sorry, kiddo, guess I didn't realize I needed to get my stupid fucking skull together before fucking you!"
You realized your best Sans impression sounded closer to Pauly Shore and that just made you even angrier. You slammed your car door shut and trudged up the stairs to your apartment.
The microwave clock said 6:56 AM. Maybe… maybe if you slept it off. You could just shower when you got up. You kicked off your shoes and fell, starfish-style, on the cool sheets.
You woke up at 1:00 PM, groggy, disoriented, somehow twice as greasy as you'd been when you left the skeletons that morning, and still seething. Why couldn't sleep ever just fix your problems like you wanted?
You huddled under the covers for another hour or so before finally braving the cold air, stripping down and running a bath. The day was already a waste and there was no point being in a hurry.
You sat in the tub as it filled, soothed by the sound of running water smattering on the drain. You closed the shower curtain to keep the steam in and rested your head against the tiled wall.
You had fallen asleep so quickly the night before and you'd been so angry that morning, you hadn't had a chance yet to process everything that had happened in the last eight hours.
You willed yourself not to think about it because god dammit, you were still so mad, but as the water rose around your hips and the steam condensed on your skin, your heated body seemed to dwell on the memory with very little assistance from the angry part of your brain. You clamped your knees together and slid further underwater.
What now?
You had gotten what you wanted, but had never prepared for the aftermath. This was messy, this wasn't like any of the scenarios you had imagined where everything was easy and Sans desperately wanted to be with you and you could just talk out your feelings (like that was something either of you were ever any good at). You dunked your hair under the water and listened to the rumble of the pipes in the building, everything sounding so far off and deep and slow. You closed your eyes, remembering the very first time you realized you had a crush on him. It had taken somebody else to spell it out for you.
Sophomore year, Toriel had managed to rope him into being a chaperone on your band's spring trip after Undyne cancelled on her with a stomach virus. He was less than pleased about it, and he was absolutely the worst chaperone on the entire trip, or the best, depending on one's perspective. If your group had any reservations about him being a skeleton, they were quelled when your friends realized on the first day just how little he actually cared how they spent their free time. He showed up, more or less on time, when the schedule demanded it, and for most of the rest of the day he was nowhere to be found.
The second day of the trip, the whole band went to a water park after performing. You were looking forward to getting into splash fights and flirting with everyone in sight, but you had slipped on a slimy patch of concrete and twisted your ankle on the way down. Your friends helped you hobble over to a picnic table, cooed over you, bought you a frozen lemonade, called Sans, and left you to your misery. "No, no, you guys go on and have fun, I don't want to spoil it," you lied.
You were digging with the wooden paddle, carving Xs into the yellow ice, one for each friend who had abandoned you, when you heard a chair scrape on the concrete next to you. "You don't have to stay with me, I'm fine," you muttered.
"Whoops! Sorry, Fine, musta tracked down the wrong moody teenager. I thought you were Frisk."
You rolled your eyes, trying not to smile.
"Your ankle all right? It's not swelling or anything, I mean?"
"Not yet."
"Good. Maybe Tori won't kill me as much."
By the time you were finished with your frozen lemonade, you and Sans had covered a staggering number of topics. Your friends had come back to check on you a few times and you had waved them away, wanting to get rid of them so you could get back to your conversation with Sans. You had never hung out with him quite like this. Sure, he showed up to big events and things mom invited him to, but since you broke the barrier, you'd never really had a reason to just sit and talk with him.
By the time you had to limp back to the bus, you were not in the least bit jealous of your friends, who were now all sunburnt and exhausted and missing flip-flops and complaining about sore feet and petty squabbles.
And by the time the charter bus was headed back to Ebott Valley, you found yourself unable to converse with any of your friends without bringing up his name, or relating the conversation back to him. Monster Kid cornered you about it when the bus stopped for gas and a bathroom break.
"You wanna tone it down a bit about your little crush maybe?"
"It's not a crush, M.K., I just… it just took me a while to realize how cool he is."
M.K. nodded to where he was standing, one of his jokes clearly falling flat with several of the parents.
"So maybe not cool exactly, but… you know!"
"Definitely not a crush then?" they raised an eyebrow. You swallowed, turning red. "Just tone it down. I've got your back, but I can't help you if it gets around, all right?"
That was, what, about nine years ago? One might expect a crush from high school to go away eventually. At that moment especially, you wished it had. You were not hurt. You were just pissed.
And maybe a little bit hurt.
Or maybe a lot a bit. Didn't matter. You were an adult. You could handle this. This was just some standard, everyday haha-whoops-we-had-sex-last-night-which-he-in-no-uncertain-terms-said-he-now-regrets angst, and you would deal with it. Maybe after you got out of the bath and got some clothes on. Your fingers were pruny.
Toweling off, you checked your phone to find a voice message. From Mettaton. You couldn't remember the last time he'd called. You played the message on speaker while you brushed your teeth.
"Good afternoon, darling, you know, I've just had lunch with your mother and it was really quite interesting! Did you know she's very upset? Did you know that this morning when she went back to her museum to make some final preparations for the public opening tomorrow, she stumbled upon a crime scene? Oh, dear, she's just devastated over the loss of her artifact, poor thing! She described it to me and I was just remembering seeing you holding it when you were talking to, well, to someone who appeared to have something to say about it."
You stared wide-eyed at your own reflection, toothpaste foam dribbling down your chin. You hadn't thought anyone else had seen, but then… he had been in the last room already when you got there.
"Well, I just thought you should know! I don't work for the news but I imagine it will be all over the headlines tonight! I can hear it now- Priceless Artifact Stolen from Monster Museum by World's Thirstiest Human!"
He cackled.
"Oh, don't you worry, I won't give you up just yet. You're much too fun! Anyway, byee!"
You deleted the message. Oh, no.
You needed to talk to Sans. Well, eventually. It could wait, probably. Hopefully. It would have to. You had important things to take care of today.
After several hours of dawdling, you grew hungry, your stomach evidently malcontent with the single pop tart you'd eaten for "lunch". You opened the refrigerator hoping for magic, and getting none. You were out of food.
Having watched the story of the missing (as yet unnamed, thank god) artifact circulate on your facebook feed, you had absolutely zero desire to go to the local supermarket and have half the town accost you and tell you to give their sympathies to your mother. So you drove in the other direction, out of town to the closest Wal-Mart.
You hit the frozen foods aisle first. You were mostly concerned about dinner for the immediate future. Pizza? Pizza rolls? Bagel bites? Hot Pockets?
All gross but delicious. Just like you.
Your phone buzzed against your thigh.
Sans: Seen the news lately?
You: Yeah, uh. We need to talk. Like, business talk.
As you reached for the box of Hot Pockets, he called you.
"I didn't mean right now, dude."
"Hello to you too. Uh…"
He let the pause stretch.
"Um, listen, I think maybe we need to talk about some stuff that isn't business, too. Where are you?" He sounded nervous. Good.
"I'm at Wal-Mart."
"All the way out in Barton Bluff? Why?"
"Well, you know how it is. I suddenly had this really intense urge to go buy a bunch 'a knives and some Miracle Gro, and I didn't wanna go to two stores, so. Ya know."
He went chillingly silent for a moment. "It's actually kinda astounding how not funny that was."
You tried to sound normal despite your stomach having lodged in your throat and suddenly remembering what being in trouble used to feel like.
You needed to piss him off more often. Or maybe never, ever again, it was a tough call.
"Um, anyway, yeah. I just wanted to shop without running into everyone I know."
He audibly relaxed. "Oh, well nevermind. I was just gonna invite you to come meet me at Grillby's and maybe we could, um, y'know talk, but if you're lookin' to avoid townsfolk, that's not the place to do it and we can just do it another time if you even want to."
"No, we should do it tonight."
"We should?"
"Yeah, I mean um. Mettaton knows it was me. Or us, I guess. And who knows how long we've got until he says something so I really need to get...that thing from you and uh. Yeah. I can be there in 20 minutes?"
"Right. Yup. See ya then, it'sadate."
He hung up so quickly it startled you.
You left the store empty-handed. You were still mad at him, you reminded yourself. You dredged up your anger as you got in your car.
It was just a different kind of anger, the kind that made you so sweaty and nervous you turned up the air conditioning in your car even though it was in the forties and damp outside. The excited and anticipatory kind of angry that left you with a big grin on your face in spite of yourself.
You just wanted an apology and to get the vibrator back. And a burger. Once you got those things, you would call it a night and go home. Alone. Of course. Of course.
You didn't forgive that easily. Except for every time in the past that you did, but that didn't count. Tonight, your will was ironclad.
You would make him beg for your forgiveness.
Oh, but not like that.
Of course.
