"Aaah, Sans! Baby, please!"

…

August 27th, 210X

…

Chiiiing. Ringringring. Sans stopped short hearing his phone ring, his grip loosening on the leather belt binding his partner's wrists. It was Papyrus' ringtone. He looked over at the lit up screen on the nightstand, but his attention was pulled back by a voice above him. "Let it ring, honey…" Mettaton moaned, but Sans knew he couldn't.

"Sorry, babe…" Sans murmured, pulling the younger man down for a quick but heated kiss. He reached out to pick up his phone while Mettaton sat back with a huff. "Hey, Pap," Sans greeted after he hit the green 'answer' button.

"Brother! I know you said you'd be busy tonight, but I need some help."

"What with, bro?" Sans had to bite back a grunt when Mettaton grew impatient and decided he wasn't about to be denied or left waiting. Sans' free hand grabbed Mettaton's hip roughly, bruising the pale skin as he attempted to still his partner. "M," Sans growled away from the phone.

"What was that?"

"Noth- gh… nothing, bro. What do you need?"

"How do I fix a blown fuse? The storm made the power go out."

"You at th-the fuse box…?"

"Yes!"

"Okay, there oughta b-be a-" Sans had to stop as Mettaton leaned down and bit his neck. Sans' fingernails dug into the younger man's hip in reaction, his back arching involuntarily. "… Oughta be a switch in th-the 'off' position. Just f-flip it back on."

"Aha! Perfect! Thank you, brother."

"Yeah, no prob-… problem…" Sans pulled the phone away before he gasped sharply at a shift in Mettaton's hips that made a tremor run up both their spines.

"Sans? Are you alright? You sound like you're… in pain."

"Nah, no, I'm good," Sans answered quickly. "Just distracted. H-helping Mettaton… move some stuff."

"If you say so… tell him I said hello! I'll let you get back to work. I can't believe he got you to stop being so lazy!"

"Heh… he has his- agh! … his ways… But he's a pain in the ass…" Sans glared down at Mettaton's seductive smirk.

"It sounds like you're working very hard! Perhaps you'll finally sleep well!"

"Yeah, probably… See you, Pap."

"Bye!"

Sans practically threw the phone after Papyrus hung up, the heavy smartphone thumping on the rug at the side of the bed while both of Sans' hands gripped Mettaton's hips. "You are so fucked," Sans growled darkly, and that made Mettaton bite him again to draw a sharp groan from the burly man's lips.

"I think we both are, gorgeous," Mettaton murmured in that musical tone. "Oh!" Sans unbound his wrists and flipped him over in one smooth motion. Mettaton would need his hands to hold on for dear life. Sans was out for revenge.

…

…

…

"Jesus Christ, Sans," Mettaton panted, tightly pinned to the sheets beneath his collapsed lover, Sans' broad arms wrapped around him as if Mettaton was his last anchor in the aftermath of the high. "I should piss you off like that more often…" Sans was in too much of a haze to answer beyond an annoyed grunt, and Mettaton chuckled softly. He lifted his hands from Sans' waist to caress his broad back and shoulders, one hand combing through his messy and short black hair. While Sans recovered, Mettaton glanced toward the bedroom door and saw their clothes scattered from the doorway to the bed. Mettaton had been unable to keep his hands off Sans that evening. It had taken ten minutes of teasing and coaxing to get Sans to take him to bed rather than just pinning him up against the living room wall and having his way. Sans had pulled off his own belt to bind Mettaton's wrists, subjecting him to the most lovely torture until he couldn't wait anymore.

"I hate you," Sans finally muttered against the younger man's chest. Mettaton was a whole foot taller than him, but much more slender, even curvy for a man. Sans was short for a man at only 5'3" but what he lacked in height he made up for in sheer muscle.

"And you can't resist me," Mettaton teased, drawing Sans up a little closer for a lovely, warm kiss.

"Mmm… I choose not to," Sans insisted, propping himself up on his elbows to look down at Mettaton when their lips parted. "And if you ever do that while I'm talking to Pap again, I'll break your hip."

"You've already dislocated my shoulder before," Mettaton giggled, and Sans flushed in embarrassment.

"I said I was sorry…" Sans muttered, his bravado failing to a bit of guilt, only for Mettaton to pull him back down again for another, much longer kiss that made Sans' mind go blank.

"It's okay, baby," Mettaton whispered when their lips were only a centimeter apart. "You know I like it rough."

"I'd rather not have to drive you to the hospital after every round," Sans sighed, unable to resist yet another kiss. Mettaton's lips were so soft and full, and always welcoming. In fact, that was Mettaton as a whole, not to mention a huge tease that liked to send Sans dirty texts while he was at work.

"I don't know about you," Mettaton murmured when they parted again. "But I'm not tired at all… How about a shower and a drink?"

"Sounds great to me." Sans slipped from the bed slowly, but before Mettaton could follow, Sans scooped him up with ease and made him squeak in surprise.

"Sans! I have legs…"

"If you can still feel them, I didn't do my job," Sans smirked down at him, and Mettaton laughed in that lovely feminine tone, wrapping his arms around Sans' thick neck.

"Oh, you did it very well, darling. I'm just very robust." Mettaton relaxed against Sans' chest, enjoying that Sans seemed to like to carry him around for no particular reason. It wasn't far to the bathroom in Mettaton's tiny apartment, and Sans set him down on the counter by the sink before turning on the shower. Both were already naked, so Mettaton silently slipped from the counter and pushed Sans into the shower while it was still just a little cold. Sans took in a sharp gasp at the feeling of cold water on his warm skin, whereas Mettaton was just fine. Sans was like a living furnace, which gave the always-cold Mettaton an extra excuse to cuddle up to him all the time.

"You-" Sans tried to be mad, but he was silenced by one of those drugging kisses that made him pause and forget about the cold. The water grew warmer, and Sans pressed Mettaton to the shower wall after sliding the curtain shut to keep water from getting on the tile floor. The height difference made Mettaton have to lean down to kiss Sans properly, but Mettaton didn't tease about it… too much.

"Sweetheart, you don't have to be so… short-tempered," Mettaton murmured against his lips, and that made Sans tilt his head back with a frustrated groan.

"Goddammit… now I know how Pap feels…" Mettaton let out a bell-like laugh and hugged him tightly.

"Serves you right, you torture that poor boy constantly." Mettaton pressed a kiss to his forehead and then watched as Sans' gaze began to wander between them. Sans was the sort of man to adore his lover's skin, but he was also rough on Mettaton, who liked that sort of thing. Mettaton regularly had bruises all over, but especially around his arms and hips and thighs. Occasionally he'd get a few on his neck too from bites and nips. Sans was the one who got the most, though, because Mettaton knew that, like himself, Sans was a bit of a masochist and he could take a lot more punishment. This particular time, Mettaton found he'd actually drawn blood on Sans' shoulder, and he could feel the ridges of long scratches all over Sans' back from his shoulders to his waist, and some on his hips. Mettaton had matching scratches on his hips and thighs and one across his stomach, and his bruises were in the shape of Sans' fingers. They had really outdone themselves this time.

"Sorry…" Sans finally murmured, making Mettaton raise a perfectly-shaped eyebrow.

"For what, honey?"

"Uh… all this…" Sans answered, his fingers trailing down Mettaton's scratched stomach.

"I did worse to you, Sans."

"Still… I always kinda feel bad, y'know? I've done some serious damage before…"

"My body can take all that raw power, baby. You're gentle where it matters most, and you're terribly sweet to me even when I'm in full-blown bitch mode after a rough day."

Sans looked up at him with some measure of surprise. The two had never actually confessed love for the other. They weren't really sure what their relationship was. 'Friends with benefits' seemed so cheap, but 'boyfriends' seemed too… serious. Sans liked to go to see Mettaton sing, and Mettaton liked to steal Sans away after one or the other was done with work. They had a lot of (often rough) sex and tended to order takeout at least once a week at Mettaton's apartment. There was no real 'dating' involved. Sans had taken Mettaton out to a few fancy dinners, but it just wasn't Sans' scene. And if Mettaton was honest, he too preferred ordering food and lazing around on the couch in an old t-shirt, Sans' head in his lap, talking until one dirty joke or comment led to a long make-out session and more sex. It was simple and just… nice. But there was something missing.

After a long shower occasionally interrupted by kisses and little touches, Sans and Mettaton finally emerged with damp hair and each in their choice of pajamas. For Sans, that was just dark lounge pants. For Mettaton, it was a tight black tanktop and boxer briefs. Mettaton gave Sans a little smile when they parted at the archway to the kitchen. Sans got into a cupboard under a counter for the vodka and gin and then into the fridge for strawberry grenadine and tonic water. Mettaton got out a shot-glass and two black-tinted glasses, grabbing ice from the freezer on his way after Sans.

Sans set everything down and Mettaton let him make the drinks. Sans had left the sentry profession for five years when jobs were slim, and he'd been a bartender at a club in Echo where he and Mettaton had hooked up for the first time, occasionally seeking the other out again when they grew lonely. About a year back, they'd decided to just stick together for a while. There had been no spoken agreement, but it had been sealed when Mettaton gave Sans a copy of his apartment key.

Once Sans mixed up the vodka, tonic, and grenadine just the way Mettaton liked, he made his own tonic and gin and sat down beside the younger man quietly, draining half his glass at once. Mettaton sipped on his own, watching Sans set his glass down and stare toward the stove for a long moment. That blank stare only meant one thing: Sans was thinking about something troubling. Mettaton didn't like it, but he waited quietly for Sans to speak up. He would always listen, waiting for the rare occasions when Sans would open up.

"M…?" Sans asked quietly.

"Mhm?"

"… You seeing anyone?"

"What?" Mettaton set his glass down, watching Sans drain the rest of his own. "I mean… why would you think I am?"

"I don't. Just curious if anyone's caught your eye."

"Well… Other than you, no." Mettaton's brows furrowed in concern. This had been happening every so often since they'd hooked up that first time. But lately, Sans had been asking almost weekly if Mettaton had anyone else.

"Okay… just wondering."

"Sans. Do you… want me to find… someone else?" Mettaton asked softly, his heart squeezing just a little at the idea.

"I didn't say that."

"You've been asking a lot…"

"Oh,.. sorry. It's not that I want you to… y'know, go find someone else. But… well, we're not really… a thing, y'know? Are we?" But before Mettaton could answer, Sans shook his head. "Sorry, that sounds really fuckin' stupid."

"Baby, do you want to see someone else?" Mettaton finally asked, but Sans shook his head again with a sigh.

"No, I-… Ah, shit," Sans growled at himself. "It sounds like I don't want you, doesn't it? Fuck, I'm sorry…"

"No, darling. I'm just… confused. I suppose I'm as confused by… 'us' as you are. All we ever do is sleep together and follow each other like lost puppies…"

"What are we?" Sans asked the question that Mettaton had never quite had the courage to ask aloud. A long silence stretched between them, and Sans hated it. He distracted himself with making another drink, adding just a splash of grenadine this time to the gin and tonic.

"I don't know…" Mettaton answered finally when Sans downed the whole glass at once. That wasn't a good sign. Sans didn't drink like that normally. "I suppose… the real question is what we feel like."

"What do you mean?" Sans asked softly, glancing up with those mismatched brown and blue eyes.

"What do you feel for me?" Mettaton asked, and the blank look on Sans' face made his heart twinge painfully. "Do you… do you love me, Sans?"

"Yeah," Sans answered immediately, but Mettaton's expression made him stop short. "I… I mean… Well. We've known each other forever… We've always loved each other…"

"But is it the kind of love you want with a partner? A life partner, even?" That left Sans speechless and Mettaton sighed, looking down at his drink. It didn't seem very attractive or tasty anymore.

"Well… what do you feel about me?" Sans reversed the question, hoping to get something more concrete in return.

"I adore you, Sans. I love you so much it hurts sometimes," Mettaton admitted quietly, leaving Sans unable to speak again for a long time. "I first realized it when you came back around to see me again. It was a day after we hooked up after your shift at the club was over. I had a hangover, and you showed up at my door with a bunch of bad food from the taco place and you made me a smoothie and took care of me until I felt better… And I was caught, just like that. You were just being a good friend, like you've always been since we were teenagers. And you've helped me get over hangovers before… but that one time, I just got wrapped up and I wanted to keep you."

"I can't tell you how excited I was after I gave you my key and you were here waiting for me when I came home that first time. You made love to me all night and made me breakfast in the morning, then you fixed a bunch of things around my apartment and left with nothing in payment but a kiss. How could I not be absolutely head-over-heels with that?" Mettaton was spilling his soul to Sans for the first time. He'd always let Sans know his appreciation and adoration, but Mettaton had never actually told Sans he loved him.

As the silence stretched on, Mettaton's heart squeezed tighter and tighter in dread at what Sans would say in response. The worst possibilities were running through his head. Sans would be angry, or worse, walk out without a word and never come back. Mettaton felt tears brimming from sheer nerves and fear as Sans' expression slowly went from shock to something Mettaton didn't see often. His brows furrowed and he frowned down at his empty glass, his eyes half-closed in a way that seemed… sad. Depressed, even.

"M…" Mettaton didn't like that tone, and he steeled himself for imminent heartbreak. "I really care about you too…" Before Mettaton's tears could slip out, Sans shook his head. "Shit… I love you too. Way too much for my own good." The rollercoaster in his heart was going mad, because that was all he wanted to hear, but Sans' tone implied a 'but' that hurt more than anything Sans could've said out loud. "I… I'm not the guy you should want to attach yourself to. We're as far as we'll ever get. I just don't have it in me to be emotional. I always get nervous when you're upset, and I feel like I should be a comfort, but I just… I can't offer enough."

Mettaton hated that he knew what Sans meant. While he was a comfort, Sans could never bring himself to cry with Mettaton when things were falling apart, or spill his own emotions and issues to Mettaton in return. Sans understood Mettaton like no one else, but no one understood Sans that Mettaton knew of. He was so closed off, deeply depressed under that charismatic and lazy mask. He didn't want to open up, nor did he feel he had the ability.

"Listen…" Sans murmured. "The last thing I want is for us to… stop being us. Y'know what I mean? But… if you want a real boyfriend… maybe even a husband one day… I'm not the guy you want."

Mettaton felt like his heart was being pulled out of his chest, cut out just a little more with each word. But at the same time… there was a little relief. Sans was being completely honest and open with him. Sans wasn't hiding anything, reaching to an emotional level he rarely visited, all for Mettaton's sake. And with that honesty came the knowledge that Sans did love him deeply, and that they could keep being what they were until their true partners came along. Maybe Sans would find the person that made him willing to show weakness and sadness, and they would help him heal.

When Mettaton remained silent, Sans stood from his seat and stepped closer to wrap his arms around the younger man's shoulders. That opened the floodgates and Mettaton's tears came rolling down as his own arms held Sans' tightly. "Sorry…" Sans murmured, and Mettaton turned to face him and hug him as tightly as possible.

"Don't say that… Don't ever apologize for being honest…" Mettaton kissed his cheek and Sans buried his face against Mettaton's shoulder. "All I ever asked from you is that you be honest with me… and you always are. Thank you… And as much as it hurts… I know you love me if you let me go so I can be happy…"

"I wish I could be the one to give you everything you deserve, babe," Sans' voice came out muffled against Mettaton's skin. "I'm just not the right person… I don't know if I can ever be that kind of person to anyone. And you shouldn't have to wait around or be stuck with me."

"We're still sticking together, darling," Mettaton told him resolutely. "I made you a promise once when we were young… that I'd be here for you until you found the right woman. Or man. Or whoever, I still don't know what your preference is." Both chuckled at that. Sans had always claimed to be mostly straight, but that wasn't strictly true anymore. "I'll still be here for you, until we're both swept off our feet by wonderful people and we can have lunch together gushing about them and wondering how we ever managed without them."

When Sans lifted his head, Mettaton pulled back to meet his gaze. His heart broke all over again as Sans' smile faded slowly, and he asked a difficult question. "Then… does that mean this is over…?"

"No, honey," Mettaton murmured. "This doesn't have to be over until one of us is ready to go on and see someone else. And even then, we'll be there for each other for the inevitable heartbreaks and to swoop in and save each other from bad dates and assholes. But until then… I'd like to stay with you, if only for the sake of not having to sleep on my own when I get lonely…"

"I'll stick around, then…" Sans murmured, lifting a hand to Mettaton's cheek, watching the younger man lean his head into the touch and close his eyes. "I might get lonely too…"

When Mettaton's strange amethyst eyes opened again, Sans gave him a charming little grin though his expression let on his broken heart. Mettaton finally stood from his chair and hugged Sans closer, sharing a slow, sweet kiss with him that seemed to seal the deal. They'd stick together, keep each other company and warm one another's beds when things got too lonely, and they'd see each other off to their proper partners. Heartbroken or not, things seemed a little brighter for Mettaton, and Sans felt awful yet much better. Mettaton was free to find a man who'd love him like no other. Sans didn't bother hoping for the same for himself, but he let Mettaton hope for him.