He stood shakily, hugging the feather duster against the frilly white apron his husband provided for him. The room before him is massive. Compared to all the rooms he's been allowed in, this makes him feel tiny. Aeron stood in the corner of it, an encouraging grin plastered onto his face. Don't misbehave, normal, completely normal. What is he supposed to do? Shuffling towards the long, delicately-carved wooden table, he noticed a thin layer of gray on it's top. There was a burning feeling, where he could feel his husband's stare on him. Don't misbehave, don't misbehave, everything's alright. Sans swiped the duster, brushing it lightly over the gray, watching as paths carved their way through. A dull thud of excitement pulsed in his soul. He's doing something, without being completely dependent. The dust clings to the delicate feathers with each stroke. It took mere moments for the entire surface to transition from the powdery gray to a deep chestnut.
"Good job sweetie!" He twirled around, clutching the duster, remembering suddenly that his husband was watching him."Now, now, if you dust the shelves this session will be over!" Was Aeron referring to the wall to wall, ceiling to floor bookshelf that takes up a giant portion of the room. Don't, misbehave, don't misbehave, don't misbehave, this is all for him. Black skirt swaying, Sans carefully dusted each shelf, each book, it had to be perfect. He isn't going to waste time, it's completely normal. Titles passed him by in waves, an ocean of knowledge passing him by as he painfully ignored it. Don't, don't, don't, don't! He forced himself to look away from the books and at Aeron once he finished. Those white voids glinted in disappointment, shooting a sting of fear and confusion. Clearing his non-existent throat, he gathered what little courage he had.
"..a-aer, wh-what's...what's the mat-matter?" His bones rattled as the other stomped towards him, looming over him like a massive wall, the first sign of any negative emotion he emoted ever directed towards him full force.
"Honey, you didn't dust the top half of the shelves. All I asked for was for you to complete a simple task, Sans, one simple task." Aeron gritted out sadly, pointing past him with clear annoyance. Sans blinked, eye lights following to a part of the shelving he couldn't reach even if he tried.
"i-it's to hig-high!"
"So?"
"h-how am i su-supposed t-to reach it?" There was an oddly familiar thrill in defying his husband, questioning him. Crossing his arms, he glared at the other only to shrivel at the intensity in those white voids burning into him. Don't misbehave, he isn't supposed to misbehave, but...
"Ask for a step-stool, if you have to! Since I love you so desperately much, I'm not going to punish you for those idiotic and useless questions, but next time you slip up.." Sans shrank back at the ferocity of the anger, the disappointment, the frustration dripping from each word staining into his soul like a brand.
"...i-i-i'm so s-so-sorrrry! d-didn't mea-mean for you to! i'm sorry!" He sobbed, the guilt, the fear manifesting into blue-tinted tears. This is all his fault! If he had just done what he was supposed to, this wouldn't have happened! Why did he misbehave? Now the only one who cares hates him! Familiar strong arms wrapping around him, he struggled against them in a panic. Doesn't deserve anything, not love, or hugs, or anything!
"Shhh, shhh, don't apologize sweetheart, I forgive you. Remember, you're allowed to make one mistake, everything is fine. I can't bare to see you crying, Sansy!" Hands smoothing against his temple soothingly. His eye sockets felt heavy as he continued to mumble apologies like a mantra. Sans gripped the shoulders loosely, snuggling his skull into the other's neck.