[Heather: hey girl! How's it going with the punny guy? Don't leave me hangin!]
…
[Heather: bet ur having an awesome time – some updates needed woman!]
…
[Heather: I take it u r still out? Gotta get back to me at some point – was thinking that if ur date is going as good as it seems to be that we could totally double date! Let me know what u think]
…
[Heather: it's pretty late r u home safe yet? Text me xx]
…
[Heather: I tried calling you. Lemme know ur okay plz xx]
…
[Heather: I texted sans. Says ur on ur way home. Glad hes lookin after you xx]
You sigh, feeling awful for not taking even a second to message Heather. Now you have this on top of your already embarrassing song-and-dance at work and your snotty attitude towards Sans when you got back – seems your best defining trait is making a complete asshole-jerk-bitch of yourself to everyone.
Pulling on a Soundgarden band shirt, you clip your hair back and pull on some fluffy pastel blue leggings – you literally have no cares to give on how you look right now and the temptation to shoo Sans out and sit alone eating ice cream is the only thing you want to do; taking a breath, you suck it up and pull together some determination to damn well start clearing up the mess you've made; beginning with Heather.
[You: oh heather. Im so sorry. You are my super duper mega-bae and I will call you later today. The date was really great and just so you know how sorry I am for not texting you ill give you an update… Sans stayed over]
You have to throw her a bone, right? Although knowing her she will leap to conclusions like a goddamn base-jumper, so best to make it clear:
[You: he slept on the couch so shush before you even start woman :P] you quickly add.
There's a tentative knock on your bedroom door and you jump a little. A moment later, Sans' voice now soft and soothing floats through.
"Hey kiddo – want me to make you lunch?"
A warm feeling prickles inside you but then a dash of guilt poisons it, reminding you how much of a bitch you were and yet he is offering to make you lunch.
You clear your throat and call "N-no it's okay. I'll do it. I'll be out in a minute."
"I'll go see what you've got."
Jumping to your feet, you pull on some socks and rush out of your room in an attempt to beat him to the kitchen and stop him from making you feel even worse. As you step out and face him you see the state of your living room and your mouth just hangs open –
Sans' Motoran Dragons jersey is splayed on your coffee table next to a toppled empty cup and all your sofa cushions are scattered around, a tattered and worn rucksack is also adorning your table with its contents half spilling onto your floor – toothbrush(es?) three individual socks, a pair of long tracksuit bottoms, a huge bundle of keys with all sorts of keyrings and doodads on it, a pair of boxers with "bone zone" printed on them (funny in any other circumstance) and a black vest are all amongst the messy pile. Your sofa and table are at odd angles and there are two books face down with crooked spines also on your floor, Sans' phone next to one of them and an empty energy drink can next to the other.
Call the damn fire brigade: your front room is an official bomb site. In disbelief you glance back at your own mess in the bedroom and definitively label it tidy and organised compared to the result of Sans' one night stay.
How in the damn hell did I not notice this when I left this morning – or even when I came home twenty minutes ago?
"So… you have nothing but snacks, noodles and cereal." Sans speaks as he's rifling through your cupboards.
"Is that meant to be –" you face him and falter "– a criticism…?"
He doesn't notice and starts talking about how you should start eating better or something – all you can focus on is his shirtless top-half.
Your eyes can't help but pry and pry and pry – you can see through him, between each rib and between his shoulder blades; it's nothing short of mesmerising – his bones move so fluidly, the motion like magic – he looks so smooth and his alabaster bones look somewhat inviting as they glide over each other, stark in contrast to all else almost like they are glowing.
"– are you even listening, kid?" Sans' voice snaps you to attention and he looks slightly annoyed with a quirk of a frown in his brow, a pair of headphones around his neck make a light clattering noise as they bounce against his collarbones.
You straighten up and do your best to hide your thumping heart, heated skin and burning cheeks; not to mention the wash of guilt you feel as you realise you were rudely staring at him.
"I… Uh… I think I eat fine." You manage to stutter, doing your best to push the knot in your throat as far down as you can "Besides – you don't have to eat yourself right? Why'd you care?"
Sans sighs and gives you an eyeroll before stating once more "Because we're friends."
"Alright alright. Don't hound me, jeez." You grumble, crossing your arms feeling a little conscious that apparently your eating habits are something to be judged "I'll get some stuff in at some point."
"Don't sweat it."
You cock your head at him and make a face "… But you were just mother-henning me to buy more food?"
Shrugging like he's just the coolest ice block in the fridge, Sans smirks at you and then his eyes flash blue for an instant.
There's the sound of a multitude of thumps and rustles and your cupboard doors wobble slightly. Sans opens one of them and it's stuffed full of tins, packets and pots; a packet of fig biscuits topples out and he catches it in one hand, looking prudently smug.
You close your gaping mouth and then gesture towards him "What the actual hell?"
Chomping on a fig roll Sans shrugs it off like it's nothing "Papyrus always goes overboard with the food shopping – if he asks where it's all gone I'll just tell him it's a fig-ment of his imagination." He smugly laughs at his own pun.
"So what – you're doing my shopping now? I thought you were my boyfriend, not my mum." You say it cheekily and stick your tongue out at him – and then you gasp as you realise your mouth ran way ahead of your brain just then.
You can't retract it as Sans is blinking at you wide-eyed, mouth partially open. A tint of blue tinges his cheekbones as he slowly continues eating, eyes darting away from you and to the floor.
The familiar awkward atmosphere rears its head again and you wish you could just swat it away. In the quiet you can hear the thrumming of dim music coming from Sans' headphones.
After a little longer lingering in discomfort, you attempt to change the subject and jerk your head towards Sans' mess "This what it's like at your place?"
With his mouth full (fig rolls are not exactly good for you and you note to call him out on his hypocrisy later) Sans mumbles a somewhat audible response, shaking his head "Noh nhot aht awll – Pahpyruth kheepth the phlath sphotlesth." He swallows and wipes his mouth on his bare arm "It's just my room that's a trashheap."
You chuckle "You sound so proud."
Sans beams at you with a cheeky wink and starts grabbing milk and cereal for you. You plop down on one of the breakfast stools and rest your head on your hands "How'd you know I wanted cereal?"
"Magical intuition." Sans says as he takes a seat opposite you with a cup of coffee, passing you the bowl.
Your brow creases as you focus on him and shrug your shoulders "What does that mean exactly?"
Sans' eyes are closed as he relishes his first sip of coffee, letting out a contented sigh before answering "Just something we monsters can do, I guess."
"You guess?"
He shrugs "It's not like telepathy or mind-reading… But it is?" he shakes his head "I dunno." He takes another long sip.
You impatiently wait for him to carry on.
He looks at you over the rim of his cup and raises a brow "What?"
"If you're working some magical hoo-hah on my brain I'd like to know." You huff.
"I just know stuff." His eyes dart a way for a brief moment "Sometimes."
You groan "You really can't tell me?"
"Eat your cereal."
Grumbling, you shove a spoonful into your mouth and then pull a face at him, stubborn as you can manage.
Sans sighs "It's not that I can't tell you. I just dunno – like you know when you're feeling hungry? Well it's like that – you just know."
"Hmm… How much do you 'just know'" you add air-quotes for an air of sarcasm.
"Only little bits at random times."
"So you just got an inkling that I had a bad time at work? Even though you were no where near me?"
Sans seems to hesitate, grabs his cup again and nods "Yeah, basically."
You know there is much more to this than he is letting on but decide to leave it – for now – you've already pissed him off and you should be endeavouring to make up for it.
"So," Sans is giving you a soft, comforting smile "What happened at work?"
Taking a breath, you speak slowly to try and flesh out the feelings you had at the time mostly to yourself rather than trying to explain to Sans – it's quite possible you hadn't dealt with the situation as best you could have.
Once you finish, you sulkily look into your soggy cereal feeling embarrassed and disappointed in yourself – you'd finished your recanting of the story by stating that you should not have taken it all so personally but at the time you just saw red.
Sans is quiet for a moment before sheepishly rubbing his neck "Guess I know what just seeing red is like…"
You smile a little.
He sighs deeply before bringing down his usual calm and collected composure – or what you used to see as his typical lazy self but now you know there's more to it than just that.
"Listen kid – this sort of stuff happens to a lot of people." He leans back in his chair "Hell if I'd broken a pair of legs for every time it happened to me…" he whistles "It'd become politically incorrect to say they didn't have a leg to stand on against me."
You giggle and he grins back at you.
"You just gotta suck it up." He adds, looking a little more sincere, his eyes lazy but focussed on yours.
Fighting the urge to look away, you stay steady and nod to him "Okay. I will."
Sans smiles wider and holds his fist out to you "That's my girl."
Letting yourself enjoy the tingling of a slight blush on your face, you bump his fist. You feel almost giddy with how good his few words make you feel and after a moment you notice your hand is warm – when you look you see Sans' hand closed around yours.
Immediately your heart swells and you break out in a hot-chill that shudders up your arms and down your back and look to meet his eyes…
… He's looking at his phone with a lazy expression, completely ignorant of the fact that he's actually holding your hand.
The chills quickly die and you look at him, slightly annoyed.
"Heh. Papy's found out half our kitchen is empty." Sans chuckles, entirely unaware.
You can't help but let out a snicker "I'll pay both of you guys back."
Sans' absentmindedly releases your hand to grab his coffee, shaking his head "I said don't sweat it."
You scoff "Dude – you took me across the world and back in one night,"
"Heh, pretty awesome, huh?" he says smugly, taking a sip.
You roll your eyes "Yeah, really awesome – I'm not letting you give me a hundred quids worth of shopping too."
It looks like he's barely paying attention to you as he continues to drink his coffee and text "Why not?"
"Because that's not what people do – you can't just give me all this stuff."
He shrugs nonchalantly "What do you call an alligator in a vest?"
"… What…?"
"An investigator."
You blink, dumbfounded before realising he's just winding you up to get out of having this conversation "Sans! You're not even listening to me!"
"What's red and really bad for your teeth?"
"Sans, stop it!"
He's still not paying any attention to you "A brick."
You groan, covering your laugh "C'mon, I'm not taking this amount of stuff from you."
He takes a casual sip of his coffee "What's good about letting the cat out of the bag?"
"Sans!" you stand up and glare at him, keeping as straight a face as you can manage.
"It's easier than putting it in."
Throwing your hands up in the air, you stomp off frustrated but trying to hide a smile "Ugh! You are just insufferable."
Sans watches you with a sarky grin "Heh. Funny that you and Papyrus seem to feel the same way."
