Ch. 11 Summary – Sans doesn't think he'd ever love a criminal. He thinks Red is just a foul-mouthed pharmacy manager with a great sense of humor. He doesn't realize "pharmacy" is a cover for "druglord" until he overhears a critical phone conversation. He feigns ignorance and plays the part of an interested partner, slowly distancing himself, until he dumps Red and runs. The guy lets him…until he realizes Sans knows the truth and drags him back.
WARNINGS: Swearing, kidnapping, mentions of rape, mentions of gang activities.
Ch. 11 – Saints and Sinners
Sans soul hammered within his rib cage. For two weeks he pretended to still love Red. For two weeks he feigned a slow loss of interest in the other and not a sudden drop after an overheard phone conversation.
Red was a druglord.
Red was a starsdamned druglord.
It explained the mansion. It explained the money. It explained everything: the tricked out cars, the latest tech, the ability to buy him anything and everything he wanted with a flash of a platinum card. Everything.
A pharmacy manager couldn't possibly afford the sheer amount of things that Red afforded. He never would've known if Red hadn't boasted to someone on the other side of a phone call that their latest feat was unparalleled. "Who else can smuggle goods through several countries but me?"
And now he was about to dump the guy.
Sans wrung his wrists as he hesitated outside Red's office door. Hopefully his nervousness wouldn't be scrutinized as anything other than fearing an angry reaction to a breakup and not the reaction of a kingpin who smuggles illegal substances.
Steeling his nerves, he knocked. Moments stretched as fabric rustled behind the door and the knob turned. Red stood in the doorway, cranky but curious.
"Ya know better than to both'r me when ahm in here. What is it?"
Sans lowered his eyelights. "I…we need to talk."
Sockets narrowed and red eyelights flared, suspicious. "Ahm listening."
His soul threatened to explode. He was so dead. "I…you might need to sit down?"
Red studied him, unimpressed.
He sucked in air. "Okay, Red. I…I've thought long and hard about this, but…" he forced himself to meet the others' stare. "I'm breaking up with you."
Silence.
"Wha'. Did ya. Say?"
Sans flinched as if struck and rushed for his scripted explanation. "I just don't feel the same about you anymore. I used to love you. Really, really love you and I still like you but I don't want to lead you on. I don't know why I don't care so much anymore. You're still great! But…" he averted his gaze, playing another card "You deserve someone better."
"…wha' brought this on?" The tone was carefully unreadable.
Sans blinked and checked the other's face but that too was walled off. He let some past truths, before everything went to hell, come to light. "…you're never open with me. Like right now. You're blocking me out and I'm tired of not being trusted."
The taller skeleton leaned against the doorway and crossed his arms. "Why not gi'e me another chance?"
Sans swallowed back fear. He didn't want to be here any longer. It wasn't safe. "I know what I feel. I don't want to lead you on by pretending to be something I'm not."
Good. That was good. And it didn't seem like Red knew the truth, so was he free to go? The other stared him down.
"…a'right. I can't force you but know my door is always open."
He sagged, relief scrawled across his features. "Thank you. It was fun while it lasted."
The other waved his hand. "Yah, yah."
"I'll pack my things and be outta here soon." He hurried to reassure the other, just able to pick up on the tension in Red's frame. "Bye, Red."
With that, he fled to his room and gathered his pre-packed things and walked out the door. He was scot-free and safe and should've been relieved, but he couldn't shake the feeling of fear and eyes on him.
He took a taxi and returned to his brother. They lived together and he was happy and content. Things were safe. He kept the truth of Red's occupation a tight lipped secret and fed the same lie he was told to anyone who asked about Red. The guy was a very busy and well-known pharmacy manager. They grew apart. That was all.
Weeks passed and the feeling of being watched dulled into the background. He kept his mouth shut until one night at Grillby's had him drunk and spilling his guts. Of course, of fucking course, Red found out.
He didn't remember the person who grabbed him the moment he walked out of the bar. He didn't remember being shoved into a car and brought to a incredibly pissed off Red. He didn't remember much of the night. But he did remember waking up with a killer hangover and wrapped in skeletal arms.
He tried to scramble free but Red tightened the hold. His bare legs shifted and he became sickeningly aware of the dried texture between them.
"R-Red?" He croaked and fear crawled along his spine. "Wh-what…?"
"Yer a lyin' piece ah shit, ya know that?" Sharp teeth scrapped against his exposed collar bone. "How'd ya find out?"
His breath hitched. "I…I don't know–"
"Cut the crap." The tone had a underlying threat to it. "Since ya know the truth, ah won't let ye leave again."
He whimpered as reality crashed around him. The familiar bedroom. The arms. The stickiness. "…you raped me."
"We're datin', babe." Phalanges grabbed his shoulder and flipped him around. "So ya better start actin' like it."
He shook his head and pushed against the chest. "Red, I dumped you."
Instead of letting him go, Red pulled him closer. "And ya had me fooled. 'I don't wanna lead ye on' sounded so sweet. But it was a cover, wasn't it? How'd you find out."
Still, he played dumb. "I don't know what you're talking about." He pushed harder. "This isn't like you. Let me go."
"Ya don't know a thing about me, princess." Red snatched his wrist and rolled atop him, pinning him in place. "But you found somethin' out, didn't cha?"
"I found out you're a real jerk." He snapped despite the fear. His left eye flared with magic. "C'mon, Red, what the hell? Get offa me!"
The other chortled as his own eye flared red. "Hell, naw. Ya right where ya belong."
Unease churned as Red grasped his soul and locked him in place. The jerk leaned to the nightstand and grasped something. His sockets snapped wide.
"Red? What the hell?" Leather snapped around his throat. He struggled against the red magic. "Take it off!"
"Nah, babe." Red climbed off the bed and released him. "It's a good look for ya."
He growled and tugged at the collar. He tried to summon magic only to be electrocuted instead. Magic inhibitors. Horror must've dawned on his pained face because Red sneered.
"Can't have ya running off now, can I?" The creep stalked to the door. "Ah tried to keep you outta my business ta keep ya safe but–well–can't be helped now, can it? Clean up, sweetheart. We've got work to do."
He started to protest but the door clicked shut. He slumped back to the covers, half debating on sleeping away the nightmare. But, given Red's sudden increase in aggression it was better not to take any chances.
He sighed and crawled off the bed and to the bathroom. He showered and searched for clothes but, to his irritation, the only thing in sight were frilly dresses. Stars, Red had asked him to wear dresses before but he had always refused. Now it looked like he had no choice.
Angrily, he shoved on one of the many frou-frou things and socks. At least the light blue fabric of the one he picked was thick enough to cover his body from view. Many were transparent and uncomfortably revealing. When he managed to claw through the ruffles and zip up the back, he grudgingly went to look for Red. Or escape. One of the two.
To his surprise, there were unfamiliar monsters situated throughout the mansion. His soul sank and cheeks blushed with blue magic as many of the guards openly stared. Some leered. Others whistled. He shrank into the poufy dress and steadily tensed as he wandered around.
So. Escaping was out of the question with so many uniformed guards clearly watching him. Which meant he had to find Red. Urgh.
By the time he arrived at the jerk's office, his skull matched the bright blue of the dress. Nerves made his hands shake as he knocked. What did Red even want from him now that he knew the truth?
The door swung open and ravenous eyelights raked across his form. He swallowed back fear as Red dragged him into the office and shut the door.
"R-Red?" He stammered. Being under that familiar, hungry stare was no longer exciting. Not when Red had showed his true colors. Not when his freedom and power had been so easily stripped from him. He cleared his throat.
"Babe," Red purred as phalanges trailed along his form and he flinched. "Ya look gorgeous."
Sans stepped away from the touches. "Red, what do you want from me?"
Red seemed to regain his sense. "Oh?" He straightened with a feral smirk. "Haven't ya figured it out, yet? Here, maybe this will help."
Sans frowned as the other curved around the desk and opened a drawer. Red returned to his side with a golden crown studded with red and blue jewels. A hand kept him in place as the other placed the jewelry atop his skull. Red magic pulsed and warmth held the crown in place.
He retreated a step, phalanges fumbling to remove the headpiece. When he couldn't, he looked to Red with confusion. "…I don't understand."
"Every kingpin needs his queen." Arms crossed in a languid manner as Red leaned against the bookcase behind him. "And you, sweetheart, are the lucky winner."
He didn't feel lucky at all.
He fled for the door and Red let him run. He stumbled over his own feet as he raced from the mansion's exit. Guards blurred past him and his chest heaved as he sprinted. He nearly slammed against the front door and turned the knob. He wrenched open the door but the moment he tried to step outside, warmth emanated from his crown and he hit an invisible barrier.
"W-what? No!" He slammed fists against the unseen surface.
He could see the garden. The driveway. The arched gates in the distance. But he couldn't even step outside. Panting as fear gave him strength, he ran for the backdoor and past snickering guards only to meet the same result. Same for any windows.
He was well and truly trapped.
"Red!" He screamed. "Let me out!"
Magic crackled as the jerk appeared beside him. "Aw, babe. That's no way to talk to your king."
"You're crazy!" He spat and staggered backwards. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
Red eyelights guttered out. "Ya wanted to know me? Well here I am."
~oOo~
Notes: Inspired partially by the song Devil's Backbone by the Civil Wars (Guy version by IrisHime on Youtube) and Royalty by Conor Maynard.
Feel like a blob of uninspired-ness. Not too happy with this idea. Red is creepy as fuq in this one which normally I would dig but I think it could've been better. But hey! Figured I should post it anyway cause who knows? Someone might like it!
One week until classes end! One week to cram Final Papers! One week!
Thanks for reading and feel free to review!