The Seeds We Sow

by thebananahasspoken

She'd made so many memories with them, so many sunsets and county fairs and days full of laughter and companionship... the need to see them each and every day ran so deep in her blood that it wasn't even a consideration anymore. She wanted nothing more than to be with them for the rest of her life. She'd never been more certain of anything. (Farmtale polyamory Frans)

The spring sun shone down from its noon zenith softly, heating all beneath its face from its home in the cloudless azure sky with gentle hand. It fell on road and tree, stream and dale, and spilled across the expansive, sprawling hills surrounding the village of Kingston and the lush lands beyond it, chasing away the remaining traces of winter and coaxing forth life again from the warming earth.

A gently flowing river, trickling merrily from the roots of the nearby mountain and laughing its way through the rolling countryside, sang to the sky and soaked into the ground as it bounced between the time smoothed stones in its bed. A warm breeze, tinted with the scents of blooming flowers and thawing soil, swept through glen and valley and across carefully, lovingly tilled farmland, rustling through bud heavy branches and new, sprouting shoots of corn and wheat.

That same breeze stirred ripples across pools of water left in the wake of irrigation, disturbed a few remaining, winter dried leaves lingering in gutters and drains, and snuck its way through the open doors of a shed on one of the farms beside the burbling river. It danced with wood shavings and dust bunnies and a few strands of aged straw, stirring them into a storm of swirling gaiety, before wending beneath the body of a large, hoisted tractor and ruffling a strand of grease spotted, sweat streaked mahogany hair, pushing it into a pair of squinted brown eyes playfully.

A sigh of frustration accompanied the disturbance, a dirt-streaked brow furrowing with obvious frustration, and that little strand of hair seemed to be, at last, what drove its owner from beneath the large, unresponsive piece of farm equipment, sliding out from under it on a rolling cart and sitting up to, with oil-stained work gloves, pluck the frizzy curl from their thick lashes.

The attempt was largely ineffective, likely contributed to by the unwieldiness of the thick gloves themselves, and the human woman wearing them, tsking to herself and quirking her lips to the side, stripped them from her hands and threw them to the ground, beside the bevy of tools she had been using to try to coax the machine behind her back to life. She ran her now bared fingers (somehow no less stained for the use of the gloves) through the wispy flyaways around her face and scraped them back with far more ease, towards the scarlet ribbon peeking through the dense thickness of her hair, either unknowing or uncaring of the oil streaks she left behind on her forehead in their wake.

Freed from the encroaching curl at last, Frisk let out a second, far more put upon sigh, casting an unhappy, thwarted, but lighthearted glare in the taciturn tractor's direction, and heaved herself up from the cart she had been lying on for the past few hours' time with a grunt of effort. She kicked a booted toe at one of the thickly treaded tires, sticking the tip of her tongue out at the stubborn machine, and clearly decided to call the whole thing quits for the moment, stretching her arms over her head as she walked around the aging behemoth and groaning in relief when her back popped in several places.

Damn thing was going to be the death of her, but she'd rather let it kill her than admit it was being so difficult. There wasn't a thing on this farm she hadn't been able to fix yet, and she had too large of a point to prove to let it best her.

Her steps carried her out of the large shed and out into the gentle rays of the sun, the same breeze that had interrupted her aimless work tickling at the sheen of sweat clinging to the back of her neck and the escaping strands of hair that she had been attempting to tame only moments before. She made no effort to try to contain them again, however, only tilting her head back, closing her eyes, and raising her face to the warmth of the sun, the fresh air and heat a welcome change from the lingering and stale coolness of the shed she had been sequestered to since daybreak... she was chilled to the bone, heh.

A chuckle escaped her lips, wry and quiet, her head shaking side to side. Stars save her, she'd been hanging around Saejun too much lately... the puns were starting to stick.

The wind surrounding her carried to her the scents of the farm, from where she stood, turned earth and flowering plants and sprouting greenery, mineral-rich water and freshly painted wood and sun-warmed stone. The maintenance shed was directly beside the barn, lingering in the large and well-loved building's shadow, and from its doorway she could hear the cows calling to each other in the pasture, the chickens chattering amongst themselves in their enclosure, and the farm's prizewinning hog snuffling through its trough for scraps.

The dull hum of traffic making its way down the road far beyond the fields was lost to the cacophony of life, the world outside the lush little patch of earth she stood on far away, and a smile, tender and dreamy, tilted Frisk's dissatisfaction with her pittance of work that morning away into nothingness, her eyes opening again to look out over the lands stretching out before and around her.

If you had told her, years before her travels had taken her to the sun drenched Ebott valley, that she would find herself enamored with the simple pleasures and quiet peace of farm life, she'd have laughed in your face, and rightly so. She'd grown up in the noise and hubbub of the city, born to the cling of smog and the rubbing of shoulders with neighbors you didn't know, the anonymity of being one of the crowd, just another face among millions. It had... never suited her, though, missing something integral that felt like everything, and after escaping a particularly toxic relationship, she had left the lights and the clustering nightmare of skyscrapers and traffic behind, with only the clothes on her back and the hope of finding something more to accompany her.

She'd fallen in love with the valley the moment she'd seen it through the grimy Greyhound window. The little town on the river, full of monsters and humans living in harmony, the neat square patches of farmland marching their way across the countryside, the friendly and welcoming faces of everyone she passed. Here, when someone asked your name, they remembered it, and when you walked into a store, 'Welcome!' was more than just the required greeting, it came from the heart and you knew it. Farmers markets and little festivals and children playing in the streets without worry for going missing, the sun bathing the rolling green hills in light and the air holding a crispness that simply can't be bought and the night sky bearing so many stars that you could do nothing more than stare at them in wonder.

She'd meant to only stay a little while, basking in the strange but pleasant livelihood of such simple folk and the labor of their hands... but every time she had even considered leaving, something ineffable had held her back.

It had felt like this place was calling to her, stronger and stronger as the days turned into weeks and it truly began to feel like home, something she'd never felt in her entire life... and when one of the local farmers had put out a call for extra help, she'd applied without much consideration at all. She'd been here ever since, and fell more in love with her idyllic lifestyle more and more with each passing day, it seemed. She couldn't imagine a place that she would rather be, nor finer people to spend the rest of her life with, than those with which she kept company.

A pleased smile spread across the woman's face, her thick lashes parting to sweep her gaze over the wide stretch of land before her, the farmhouse just down the little, trundling dirt road, the sun reflecting off the blades of the windmill beside the large home and the windshield of the rusty old truck parked beside it. Music carried from the wide porch from a radio, wound through with the sonorous humming of the monster listening to it, wedded oddly but pleasantly with the repetitive hammer strikes echoing from the back of the barn, and Frisk's smile only grew at the reminders of the presence of her companions, her feet carrying her, almost without realizing, around the side of the large building, seeking out the monster she knew was hard at work there.

In her life before, and in the few times she'd been able to find lasting work, she'd never come to know her co-workers, beyond names and a few terse and impersonal conversations. Things moved too fast in the city, people had their own lives to lead. She'd always understood that, lonely as it had been, and had simply carried on. During her employment here, though, and honestly, during her entire time spent in the valley, she'd never felt the same way she had in the city, like a distant and required acquaintance. She felt like family, something she'd never had before in her life, and it was something she hadn't even known she'd needed, before finding the acceptance that she had here.

The farmer that had hired her, those years ago, had been both an enigma and a balm from the second she'd shaken his hand. A skeleton monster of no great height but non-proportional heart, Saejun Park had struck a chord with her, within moments of meeting her, in a way that no one else had in her entire life... talking to him, for what she was certain was the very first time, had been like being reintroduced to a long lost and very good friend, someone she had known for years immemorial. He was the most interesting and strange person she'd ever known, quick-witted and sharp as a razor, stubborn as a post and just as immovable, but was also one of the most magnanimous and kind people she had ever met, and had taken her on without even looking at her pitiful resume, meeting her confusion with a patient and strangely charming smile around the strand of wheat between his teeth.

"never put much stock in interviews or resumes, ma'am, if you'll pardon my directness. way i see it, y'can't sum up a person on a piece of paper, no matter how pretty the letterin'. rather know someone by the work of their hands and the stoutness of their heart."

He'd stood by that assessment, too, had maintained the kindness and generosity of his first impression every single day, and she'd never found it a hardship to meet that candor with her very best. It was an almost instinctive thing, to want to prove herself worthy of the trust he had shown her, easy though that had proved to be... he'd always been pleased with her work, often claiming she did far more than was required of her, and frequently bullied her into accepting more money than they'd agreed on for her services. A relationship of respect, affection, and teasing banter had grown between them, nurtured from the very beginning by his affable nature and unrelenting goodness...

His farmhand had been an entirely different story.

Frisk let out a quiet huff, her smile twisting sardonically as she rounded the corner of the barn and raised her gaze, taking in the form of the hulking monster perched near the top of a sturdy ladder leaned against the side of the large building. She recalled with great clarity the time it had taken Sans, the other resident skeleton monster of Rivervale Farm, to warm up to her... or to even speak to her beyond short grunts and searing, hateful glares. She knew well that not everyone could get along, of course, more than familiar with that fact, and had borne the stares and the sneers, his pointed and aggressively cold distance from her, as best she could, but it had been a difficult thing, given the level of intimidation he was capable of just from appearance alone.

Sans was not a small monster, standing over a foot and a half over her own height and easily twice as wide, and in addition to his great size and kind of ridiculous strength (she had seen him heft a fallen tree with his bare hands without breaking a sweat), he was also... well. The world had clearly not been kind to him, and wherever his life had taken him, it had damaged him in more ways than one, leaving a gaping hole in the back of his skull, cracks in his thick and scarred bones, and a slightly slack eye socket that lent a certain level of the macabre to his appearance. Combined with the overlarge, crimson iris suspended in his only functioning socket and his oddly sharp teeth, stuck in an almost permanent and menacing grin, he struck a rather daunting figure, and having that figure so clearly adverse to her presence was of very little comfort to her.

It had been a very terse time, only made worse every time she'd had to work alongside him without the sunny buffer of Saejun to break up the almost hostile silence, but a little more than a year ago, he'd begun to open up to her, speaking to her in short greetings and clipped sentences in a voice so deep and rough it reverberated in her chest. His smile was no longer one that made clear his desire to rip her throat out each time he looked at her, softer and more patient, and where once he would recoil away from accidental touches with a bloodcurdling snarl, he now almost seemed to crave contact (most of the time, at least; if he was taken unaware, he would still snap, reactive in his monstrous instincts).

It was a dramatic change in her eyes, from near venomous dislike to as much affability as the damaged monster was capable of, and had only developed since then, leading to a trust and an appreciation of him that ran unquestioningly deep. He talked to her every day now, openly and for as long as he could, sometimes even seeking her out for conversation (though, for the most part, he liked to listen while she talked). He volunteered to spend time with her alone, both in and outside of work, and she couldn't count the times he'd reached out to make contact with her first, to fix her hair or steady her or to simply touch her hand, as though to make sure she really was there beside him.

The only thing he'd never done was attempt to explain his mysterious unfriendliness to her. Saejun had made excuses for him in an attempt to smooth things over, peacekeeper that he was, but Sans had kept his silence on the matter, and though she was certainly curious, Frisk had no real interest in pressuring him.

He was a monster of few words, after all, even now that their relationship had improved so drastically... but he was also straightforward and frank, sometimes to the point of rudeness, and his succinct nature made her certain that if he felt the need to explain what had made him feel the way it did, if it in any way mattered any longer, he would say it without hesitation. So she had put her trust in him, and thus far, it hadn't led her wrong.

A flush overtook her cheeks, a reminder of just how right things had been flickering through her mind and shifting her expression from doting remembrance to shy consideration. She and the monsters she worked so closely with had become far more than coworkers over the years, so much so that she very infrequently thought of them as such... she couldn't even, in complete honesty, only call them friends, though they had been the best she had ever had. She had become... very fond of them, them and everything about them.

So very fond of them, in fact, that she often found herself thinking of them when they weren't there, wondering what they would think of a new dress or a different hairstyle, racking her brain for a joke that was sure to make them laugh (Saejun, with that wry chuckle that made his sockets crinkle, and Sans with that deep, rolling rumble of laughter that sounded like distant thunder-), spending longer than she should there in the evenings because she simply couldn't imagine leaving their company any sooner.

She'd made so incredibly many memories with them, so many sunsets and county fairs and days full of laughter and companionship... the need to see them each and every day, whether she was working or not, ran so deep in her blood that it wasn't even a consideration anymore. It was a requirement, and she knew, with incredible clarity, that she wanted nothing more than to be with them, for the rest of her life.

She'd never been more certain of anything.

She... she was hesitant to call it love, before she had had a chance to explore things more deeply with either, but she definitely felt incredibly deeply for the both of them, and despite the strangeness of the thought that she desired not just one, but both of them, she found herself unflinching of the fact. It was an oddity that she had tried to talk herself out of before, tried far more than once to dismiss as greed or confusion. The years that had gone by had only solidified the knowledge, that her heart ached for them each in their own unique and special way... and unfortunately, only drove her further from the ability to do anything about it.

How could she ever convince them to accept where her mind resided? She knew- well. She suspected that they had feelings of their own for her, ones they tried to keep as guarded as she kept her own (sometimes, they would slip just the same as she did, a too lingering touch, a too deep and intense stare, a secret smile with just a little too much meaning behind it... or at least she hoped so), but she knew how jealous and competitive men could be, having been on the receiving end of such things before. Their being monsters only made things more complicated... monsters were known for being fiercely protective of their mates, and were not known to share under any circumstances, at least to her knowledge.

It was understandable, of course... not an idea many would be able to understand or accept. She had struggled with it herself, for a great deal of time. She also had very little hope that anything would ever come of it, and had no real intention of making it known. How could she ask it of them, knowing what the answer would be and most likely soiling anything that could ever grow between them? She could never be so selfish.

She had been arguing with herself about it for years, trying to talk herself out of her attraction and hope, trying to remind herself that she wasn't getting any younger and would need to find a real option if she truly wanted the family she'd always hoped for, trying to be the bigger person and just let it go... she just didn't seem to be able to move on. She couldn't let them go, couldn't untangle herself from the feeling that some way, somehow, this was right.

And she so kept her silence, and held her secret longing deep in her heart of hearts, and did her utmost to appreciate what she had, even as she ignored the voice of reason and clung instead to the whisper at the back of her mind that told her to hold on just a little longer.

Not that it was a difficult thing to do, spending her every day with the two people she liked most in the world. She felt almost spoiled, and sometimes incredibly guilty to monopolize their attention so shamelessly... she simply couldn't help it, and she'd take it while it lasted.

As such, Frisk refused the guilty twinge in her stomach that told her to turn away and go back to her work, instead raising an oil-stained hand to hold over her squinting eyes, blocking out the sun to see the large monster prying weather damaged planks from the back wall of the barn and smiling secretly to herself. He looked like he could use a break too, she knew he'd been up and at it since the break of dawn, and with her conscience held firmly in check, she lifted her other hand to her mouth and whistled shortly, her smile only growing when the skeleton stilled reactively and turned his cracked skull towards the noise.

"How's it going up there, big guy?" she called out, swaying on booted toes and trying desperately to keep from giggling like a schoolgirl when the corner of his perpetual grin quirked upwards at the sound of her voice (oh stars, she was so attached, too attached, how could a smile do that to her-), and Sans, his skull turning further to look down on her with his good socket, let out a huff before clambering down from the ladder, his own heavy, muddy boots settling into the dust only a moment later.

Even standing flat on the ground he was massive, Frisk's head tilted back to meet his intense but friendly gaze (it had taken a long time to detect the differences between his expressions; they were incredibly subtle, and often lost behind the startling glow of his staring iris and the too wide smile he wore), but it had been a long time since his size or appearance had intimidated her, and she met his grin with her own as he tucked the hammer he had been using into a loop on his belt, leaning a large palm on its head and shrugging one wide shoulder noncommittally.

"'bout how you'd expect. siding took a beating this winter, with all the freezes. easy fix, though..." he explained in his rumbling bass and his short, clipped sentences, jerking his skull towards the pile of warped wood he had already stripped away and the new, freshly cut lumber waiting to be put in its place indicatively, before his smile sharpened, the blood-red magic in his socket hooding itself. "snow problem at all if you axe me, heh."

The puns surprised a snort from her before she could stop it, her hand leaping to cover her mouth to cut it off; she'd come to expect them from Saejun, who seemed to have a never-ending supply and offloaded them with almost sadistic pleasure, but Sans' own attempts at turn of phrase had been few and far between until very recently, any jokes he had told before the shift incredibly morbid. Still funny, she'd laughed at more dead baby jokes than she could say she was proud of, but gross enough to make you think about life a little bit afterward.

She took it as another sign he was becoming more comfortable with her presence, flattering herself with the idea that he liked making her laugh as much as she liked doing the same for him, and if his pleased smirk at her laughter told her anything, her suspicions were right, letting out a few chuckles himself at the look of woeful apathy she sent him as she recovered from her abrupt snort.

"Terrible. Absolutely terrible," she reprimanded playfully, unable to keep the grin from stretching across her face in response to his joy in amusing and frustrating her, but he remained unrepentant, reaching out a hand to pluck a strand of straw from her messy hair with the same grin playing about on his smug face.

She tried very hard not to pay too much attention to the feeling of his fingers pulling at her hair, or to her simultaneous desire for him to run his thick phalanges through the rest of it.

"you're smiling~" he teased, pulling back, crumbling the piece of straw between his fingers easily, and letting the wind carry the chaff away, and Frisk rolled her eyes, folding her arms across her chest and jutting a hip out in mock temper. She couldn't seem to wipe that smile away, either... not that she would want to. It was such a simple pleasure, to have moments like this with him. To see just how far they'd come, and indulge the vain hope that it could be more one day.

She was getting carried away. Stay in the moment... don't reach for more than you can have.

"Out of pity for your unfortunate sense of humor, Sans," she tutted, raising her brows meaningfully and trying her hardest to quell the sting of self-made rejection with banter (she was only hurting herself, this was ridiculous...), but his expression made it clear that he didn't believe her, one thick brow bone quirking and his chest shaking as he laughed quietly to himself, skull shaking side to side minutely.

"heh... sure," he snickered, his smile crooked with the knowledge that she was bluffing (she made a show of puffing up and blustering, turning her face away and sniffing pridefully, and beamed, within, when he chuckled again), before seeming to find himself contented with teasing her, hooking the thumb of the hand that had divested her hair of its dried grasses into one of the pockets on his dusty work pants. "what about you? tractor cooperating today?"

She turned to him again with a look of such utter annoyance and weariness on her face that he snorted a little, his nasal ridge wrinkling far too cutely to be allowed on the massive monster's face.

"i'll take that as a no," he surmised, sending a glance to the rear of the shed that she had emerged from not too long ago, and Frisk, letting out a sigh colored with slight frustration, turned to face him fully, shrugging her shoulders up and down resignedly.

"It's not as bad as I make it out to be. I'm making progress, slowly but surely... she's just stubborn. But old girls like her have their ways, it's practically expected, and when I get her going again, she'll be more reliable than any John Deere. Last Saejun another hundred years," she insisted confidently, brightening visibly at the thought of her long project being worthwhile and useful for the older skeleton monster, and Sans, amused smile sinking into a near flat line of discordance, turned his iris back to the human standing before him, his heavy brows lowering and casting a shadow across his sockets.

"he can afford to replace it, you know. said so himself. could save yourself the headache... and all the work," he reminded her, but Frisk waved a hand to dismiss the note of dutiful reprimand she could hear hidden behind his rumbling timbre, accustomed to the occasional bout of concern both he and Saejun were inclined to showing when they thought she was working too hard. It did terrible things to her lovelorn heart, having them worry over her, but their anxiety was unnecessary. She was more than capable of the things she took on, and planned to see her projects through despite the fretting.

Maybe she wanted to be as good to them as they'd been to her. Maybe she had something to prove, to herself and everyone else. ...maybe it was an excuse to spend all that much more time on the farm. She was a little afraid to consider the subject too closely, only to find the answer she was sure lay behind it all.

She really was in too deep...

"I know. And I'm also perfectly ready to prove him wrong about her~ maybe get him to spend the money on a new truck instead," she snickered, turning a meaningful and critical eye towards the rusted cab of the aforementioned beast where it was parked beside the farmhouse peeking around the edge of the barn, and Sans' former frown crooked at one corner, his chest shaking with a chuckle of his own and his gaze shifting to look over at the aged vehicle.

"good luck with that. think he'd rather lose the whole farm than get rid of bess."

He had a point, but it was one Frisk was unwilling to move on as well. She worried about the stubborn monster and his intractability... it was gonna blow up in his face one day. Likely literally, when that damn truck finally gave up the ghost.

"I'll bully him into it one day. Fair play, considering how often he talks me into taking raises," she huffed, folding her arms across her chest and shaking her head with fond temper (she knew perfectly well how well his farm was doing, but Saejun was far too generous for her comfort. He'd done so much for her, she honestly felt like she would always feel indebted to him...), and Sans, his blown out iris rolling in his socket to look over her obstinately set expression, sent her a smile so warm and indulgent that she felt herself flush slightly, unused to seeing it on his face but thoroughly pleased to have it directed at her.

"heh... you're just as stubborn as he is. determined. ...always admired that in you, even when it made things harder," he murmured softly, pensive and quiet in his introspection, his gaze flicking over her face, and Frisk, her heart fluttering and her breath faltering, found herself floundering, speechless in a way that she didn't quite understand. He had these moments, sometimes, as though he was looking right through her and at something, someone, else... in the not too distant past, those times had been thoroughly negative, and resulted in some of his most cutting and murderous glares, the worst of his snarls and growls.

This wasn't the first time, in their steadily improving relations, that such behavior had been more positive... but it was the first that she could recall that had resulted in what she felt, so deep down that it ached, was high praise, and all she could do was stare at him in the wake of it, gaping like a fish and flushed such a deep red that she knew it would be impossible to excuse. He obviously wasn't inclined to let her try, either, clearly aware of her reaction, if she could tell anything from the flickering of his iris as it rose to meet her eye, the deepening of that too soft smile.

One of his large hands rose, slowly, to brush its knuckles over one of her blushing cheeks, the bone rough and scarred but so comforting that it was all she could do not to lean into the touch instinctively. It almost seemed like he was trying to feel the heat radiating from her flushed skin, curious and tactile, and her breath shortened even further at both the sensation and his closeness, her throat tight as she swallowed thickly in an attempt to function normally.

She didn't know what to do with her hands, suddenly and overwhelmingly awkward and self-conscious. What did she usually do with her hands? She couldn't remember, but they couldn't just hang at her sides like they were right now, right?

"W-well, I... I mean... I need to be, working with that old bonehead. He's ready to trash a perfectly good tractor, but clings to that deathtrap he drives around? Not on my watch," she managed to stutter out the moment she remembered how her tongue worked, twisting her fingers together in front of her to have something to do with them (besides making good on the very sudden, very crazy desire she had to take his hand and slide them between his phalanges, see exactly how much bigger his hand was than hers-), her focus set entirely on the brush of bone to her cheek and the gentle pulse of his gaze where it held hers immovably.

How had she ever thought it was scary? She couldn't recall now...

Sans' expression softened further, as he took in her words and watched her watching him back... his jaw shifted, as though considering what to say, even as the hand brushing its knuckles along her cheekbone turned to cup her face, so large his phalanges did as she'd been hoping only a moment before and carded into her hair. A cloud of dust rose between them as he shuffled a half step forward, practically enclosing her in his presence entirely; her heart stuttered in her chest, her lungs forgetting how to function entirely as he leaned down towards her-

"well no wonder m' ears've been burnin' up somethin' awful. lookit you two, chattin' up a storm at my expense."

Frisk nearly jumped out of her boots at the sudden, completely unexpected voice cutting through the gentle, quiet moment that had fallen between herself and Sans, the large, now grumpy looking monster pulling his hand away from her cheek and sliding it into a pants pocket. He turned his gaze almost reluctantly from her to look on the other resident skeleton of the farm, leaned against the corner of the barn and watching the both of them with a knowing grin plastered to his face, beneath the shadow his straw hat cast.

The strand of wheat Saejun seemed to always be chewing bobbed merrily between his teeth (an effort to keep himself from picking up smoking again, he'd told her once), his arms folded across his broad chest and one boot crossed over the other in his ease, and Frisk, already redder than she could recall being in quite some time, only flushed darker at the realization that he'd likely been there for some time, brushing at her messy hair in an attempt to get it in order and realizing, belatedly, that she'd likely been spreading oil all over her face from her stained hands.

"You don't have ears, Saejun," she managed to force out conversationally, heart pounding a frantic tattoo against the inside of her ribcage as though she'd been running a marathon (what was the matter with her? It wasn't like he'd found them in a compromising position- great, now she was blushing more), and the older skeleton, raising a silent, inscrutable brow bone at Sans as he slouched over to the pile of wood he'd pried off the side of the barn moodily, sent Frisk a playfully reprimanding scowl that held absolutely no heat in it, pushing away from the barn wall and strolling over to where she stood.

"not after all this tongue waggin' i don't, you've gone and seared 'em right off. ruined my good looks," he lamented snarkily, his expression teasing and nowhere near as wounded as his soulful baritone would lead many to believe (he got this little gleam in his socket, when he was being clever, vastly different than when he was truly being serious), and with his seeming clemency regarding how he had found her and Sans, apparently uninterested in mentioning it, Frisk felt the tension ebb out of her shoulders and her shamed blush start to settle, the curve of the Saejun's smile working the magic it seemed singularly capable of and stealing away her worries without qualm.

She met that smile with one of her own, even, and stepped closer to bump her shoulder against his broader set (no hardship at all, especially considering the size difference between herself and Sans; even in his gardening galoshes, Saejun only stood about an inch taller than she did), waggling her eyebrows in an effort to play along as she recovered from her sudden bout of embarrassment.

"Oh, I don't think anything could ruin those," she teased back, though exactly how much of it was teasing and how much was truth she played close to the chest (she found him extremely attractive, everything from his country drawl to his aged bones to his artful smile making her heart flutter), but the older monster only tutted at her, assuming a "stern" expression that she knew all too well.

Sometimes it was even serious, though generally only when she'd been overworking herself.

"don't you try'n sweet talk me, missy. didn't your mama ever teach you it's rude t'gossip?" he reprimanded, gloved hands shifting to prop on his hip bones in mock severity, and it was all she could do not to giggle at the very close impression he was doing of a mother hen, snorting quietly and raising her eyebrows dramatically before glancing after Sans, watching him silently heft an armful of splintering, warped wood onto one of his massive shoulders. A pang of upset shot through her calming heart, lessening the brightness of her amused smile as she watched his back shift and flex under the weight, her mind on the disappointment that had flashed across his expression as they'd been interrupted in... whatever it was that they'd been caught up in.

She hadn't wanted it to stop either... already missed the feeling of his hand cupping her jaw, so much more gentle than he looked capable of.

"The same could be said of eavesdropping~ But I mean no offense. You know I only speak my mind," she replied with a chuckle and an easygoing shrug of her shoulders, turning her head to send Saejun a wink and an equable smile to attest to her sincerity (his playful glower cracked, softening and quirking up into a knowing and understanding grin, his glowing sockets crinkled in the exact way that made her heart throb against her will), before walking over to where Sans was bending to reach another stack of planks, laying a hand on his forearm, bared by the rolled-up sleeves of his plaid flannel shirt, to gain his attention.

"Sans, can I h-" she began to ask, already reaching for some of her own to help him out (and maybe, somehow, communicate her own sorrow that their quiet moment had been broken), but pulled back, alarmed, when he jerked his arm away and let out a sharp, gruff growl, the slice of his perpetual grin she could see from his averted face taut and agitated. She clutched her offending hand to her chest, biting her lower lip to keep it from wobbling the way it suddenly wanted to; she blinked rapidly to dispel the sting of hurt that prickled at her too wide eyes, resolutely determined not to let even a single tear spring to life.

It wasn't his fault. It wasn't his fault. She knew better than to touch him out of nowhere, he'd just reacted, she knew better-

Her very best attempt at hiding her upset didn't help. His scarlet iris, wide and almost sparking in his choler, snapped to her expression, taking in her distress, and his reactive anger fell away as he realized what he'd done, his gaze sweeping over her face and his own creasing with unspoken regret. The boards on his shoulder creaked, as his grip on them tightened... his hand shifted back from where he had jerked it away, to softly touch a single fingertip to the clenched fist she held to her chest, pushing it down and away gently. He gave her a small, tense smile when she glanced back up at him, heavy brows arched penitently.

"...i've got it. thanks," he murmured, pulling away again to go back to his work, and though her heart ached yet, wondering, not for the first or last time, what had happened to him to make him react the ways he did (it must have been terrible...), she obeyed the soft dismissal in his voice and backed off, wishing she had the words to bridge the gap, to give him some sort of comfort, but knowing how badly she would stumble when it came down to the wire, that she would likely only make things worse.

The most she could do was give him space. It would have to be enough, until the day came that she got to know him enough for him to trust her with the knowledge.

If that day ever came. For all she knew-

Saejun's hand resting lightly on her shoulder broke her from her downward spiral, squeezing gently and pulling her from her reverie instantly. He gave her a reassuring smile and a nod, an unspoken and grateful acknowledgment of her efforts in his sockets that lifted a weight from her sagging shoulders that she hadn't even been aware was there (how did he always know how to make her feel better?), and then stepped past her and towards the pile of wood, his steps purposefully loud to announce his presence to the agitated monster before him, tilting his straw hat back and rolling up his sleeves as he walked.

"i'll get the rest. you jus' rest easy for a spell, darlin', you done enough this mornin' as it is," he announced at large, completely ignoring Sans' attempt to take the rest of the wood himself and hefting the remainder into his own arms easily (Sans let out a huff tinged with a growl, but said nothing, stumping off around the corner of the barn with his load), and Frisk snorted disdainfully, falling into step beside the farmer as he followed along in Sans' wake, along the dusty road that wended its way through the fields and orchards he called home.

"Hardly. Bess has worked harder than me, and she hasn't moved since yesterday," she sighed, wiggling her stained fingers in the air indicatively (she was going to have to find time to sneak to the bathroom and fix herself up after the mess she'd made of herself, she must look awful), and Saejun, a look of long-suffering petulance narrowing his sockets, shot the human walking along beside him a reproving glare, adjusting the wood in his grasp to settle it more evenly as the pair of them turned onto the lane that led towards the farmhouse, the road more packed and less dusty through long use.

"y'just won't let my girl alone, will you. 's just shameful, holdin' no respect for the classics," he complained, the dappled light filtering through the budding leaves of the beech trees lining the short road decorating them both with shifting blotches of both light and dark, but Frisk only blew a raspberry in response, snickering at the affronted (and completely fake) shock his expression assumed at her rudeness. Ahead of them, Sans had already reached the aforementioned truck (he nearly dwarfed the ancient thing, having to ride in the back whenever they went into town), and was tossing his load of planks into the bed haphazardly, a few flakes of rust drifting from the aged machine's body and to the sprouting grass around its tires with the motion.

Frisk frowned at his affected, and almost pointed, moroseness, the blank focus in his narrowed iris and the tight set of his jaw, her heart aching again for their lost moment (he had wanted to say something, she'd seen it written all over his face... what had it been?), before she turned her gaze from the upset monster and to the house he stood beside, its familiar face offering to soothe her the way it always did.

The sun, at its peak in the sky, cast the shadow of the two-story, wood-paneled farmhouse over the truck, the garage beside it, and the nearly empty firewood box just around the corner; it had already felt the surprisingly careful touch of the larger skeleton monster that year, after the tough and uncommonly cold winter, freshly painted a plain but pleasant white and as near to gleaming as anything on a farm could be. It was a comfortable and welcome sight, rising from a bed of sprouting lilies and new grass, overshadowed by the boughs of a towering, ancient oak, set beside the windmill that helped pump fresh water from the well, and surrounded by the embrace of a shaded, wraparound porch.

Frisk had spent many a hot afternoon on that porch in good company, many a late winter evening in front of the hearth in the living room, many a laughter-filled autumn day in the large kitchen, canning and preserving produce.

It was more home than anything else she'd ever known, and she felt a smile curve her lips at just the sight of it, at the green-painted shutters that didn't quite match the roof tiles and the welcome sign she'd helped Saejun carve from the trunk of a fallen tree ('I yam so peas-ed you could turnip!'), the wreath she'd woven two years before still hanging on the front door, the corner of Sans' massive wicker chair, peeking around the corner where he liked to watch the sun go down and the stars come out.

She wished she'd had enough gall to do what she'd wanted to, last fall when she'd had to move apartments, and take up Saejun's offer of one of his spare rooms. She had feared she would allow herself to be far too bold, however, in such close proximity to those she cared for most dearly.

She feared ruining what they had more than anything. Even with the little voice at the back of her mind that whispered such insidious things as their caring for her just as deeply as she did for them, she couldn't allow it on a whim, and had kept her wish to settle here to herself, only thinking, in her wildest daydreams, of what it would really be like to just... give in, and by some miracle be reciprocated.

Such a sinful indulge it always was, too, considering how little time she would spend in her own bedroom-

"Classic here meaning a rusty old junk pile twice as old as me and bound to fall apart any day," she retorted laughingly, desperately trying to hide the blush that had erupted across her cheeks; she mounted the porch to avoid Saejun's piercing, far too knowing gaze (he always saw everything, it seemed like, she didn't want to have to try to explain this away-), taking a few steadying breaths as she pretended to straighten one of the planting pots awaiting the herbs that usually grew in them, before going to lean against the railing and watch the boys finish their work from a safe distance.

She was getting so carried away today, only encouraged by Sans' behavior earlier...

She needed to get a grip.

Saejun, walking the rest of the way around the porch and to the side of the truck, allowed Sans to take the wood from his arms to load it up before holding a now free hand to his broad chest as though wounded, turning his face away from the regrowth of her teasing smile and feigning a sniffle.

"you're breakin' my heart, darlin', metaphorical as it is. come an' have a bite to eat, stop up those cruel and undeserved words, a'fore i dust from such abuse," he remonstrated, recovering from his pearl-clutching and climbing the steps of the porch after looking over Sans' loading job critically and nodding his approval, and Frisk smirked at him playfully as he walked past her, bouncing her foot where it was crossed over the other in her repose.

"So dramatic~ I will, if only to spare you further demoralization," she shot back, sticking the tip of her tongue out at the older monster before turning her gaze to the large skeleton dallying around the rear of the truck (and thus missing the flush of green magic that spread across Saejun's cheekbones, his gaze lingering just a little too long on the flash of her tongue she'd shown before shifting away and to the toes of his galoshes), tilting her head towards the house, and a break from work, with a gentle smile on her lips.

His sideways glance at her was short and quick, barely more than a flicker of his overlarge iris, and his nod little more than a jerk of his skull, but agree he did, breaking away from whatever thoughts were consuming him and following after Saejun, up onto the wraparound porch. He had to duck a little to fit under the entryway, something that always made her laugh to herself (thankfully he fit inside the house well enough, doorways the only real struggle for him), and that wasn't changing today, a short giggle escaping her before she could stop it.

Her hand flashed up to cover her mouth as though it could keep it in, chagrin overwhelming her as his gaze slid over to her from his stooped position (the last thing he needed right now was someone laughing at him, she was such a jerk), but somehow, by some whim of the stars, it seemed as though the sound of her laughter was just what he'd needed. His flat grin crooked at one corner, the tension fleeing his expression like water swirling down a drain, and he let out a short, warm chuckle to accompany her quickly stifled giggles, standing back up to his full height and making much the same motion as she had only a moment before, titling his skull towards the front door indicatively.

Nearly all of her worries fleeing in the face of what she could only take as a signal that he was letting go of his upset, Frisk obeyed the silent beckoning, pushed away from the railing she had been leaned against, and walked across the age smoothed boards of the porch, sending Sans a warm, happy smile and watching as Saejun sat in the chair beside the screen door, shucking off his boots to avoid dragging in the dust on their soles. He seemed to have missed their exchange, in his occupation, and looked up from setting his galoshes in their place beside the doorway with a sly grin, standing from his seat to hold open the screen door for her.

A gentleman (gentlemonster? She'd never really known which was appropriate, and the boys were no help, either, almost insistent in teasing her for her ignorance), as always. She was going to get spoiled to death at this point...

"the face of an angel and the kindness of one too. fine company no matter the squall, eh sans?" he snickered in response to her former comment, turning his gaze from Frisk and to the large monster hovering behind her expectantly, and Sans nodded immediately, his grin softening as he shifted his iris down to watch her kicking off her own boots as well.

"none better."

It was all she could do not to just fall over, her knees weakened so drastically in response, holding onto the back of the chair beside the door to keep from doing so as she stumbled over her bootstrings and struggled to keep from letting her legs collapse. They had a terrible habit of doing that, teaming up on her to compliment her... they had no idea what it did to her, her poor heart and her weak will and her wild imagination (she could, and had, imagined all the ways they could team up on her before, and them doing so in this manner did nothing to help that), and she floundered in silence for a moment, forgetting entirely how shoes worked and training her eyes pointedly to her fumbling fingers, before letting out a strained and forced laugh, sending the both of them a lighthearted glare in the hope that it diminished just how affected she truly was.

"Boys, please. It's warm enough out here without a blush to complicate things," she remonstrated in a wild attempt at jest, finally recalling how to take off her own boots and successfully kicking them off, but neither of them looked even remotely abashed, Sans shrugging his wide shoulders and leaning against a railing post and Saejun outright smirking at her, giving her a shallow and pointed bow as she passed by him to enter the farmhouse.

"apologies, ma'am... you know i only speak my mind~" he mimicked, his sockets gleaming with satisfaction as he turned her own words on her, and she couldn't help but laugh at how proud he was of himself, even as her heart raced in her chest and her blush only deepened. He was, and always had been, a bit of a flirt, which did nothing good for her infatuation... it helped none that he had only seemed to grow more and more sincere with his flirtations as time had gone on, and as she'd teased him back.

She wasn't prepared for the full fury of his abilities, though, not with how vulnerable and sentimental she was feeling today...

"Too clever by half, sir. Too clever by half," she rejoined as affably as she was able, reaching out to pluck at one of the straps of his coveralls with a tick of her finger teasingly, before moving past him and into the comforting coolness of his home, turning past the wide staircase leading to the second floor and through the formal dining room towards the kitchen as quickly as she was able.

"Now what still needs done in here?" she called out as she walked, careful not to touch anything with her grease-covered hands, and Saejun, entering the house as soon as he'd handed the screen door off to Sans, watched her disappear around the corner, sliding his straw hat off the dome of his skull as he did. He fanned himself with it for a moment, a drip of lime-tinted sweat streaking down his jawline and a small, chagrined smile playing around his grin, before hanging it up on one of the hooks beside the door and following after her, sending a look in his wake as the massive skeleton behind him stepped inside.

"washin' up an' sittin' your pretty self down; i got it covered. mind your boots, sans. just mopped up," he called out, snapping stern phalanges at the larger monster before rounding the corner of the dining room himself, and Frisk, letting herself into the kitchen, found that he did, in fact, have it covered. Lunch was already laid out on the small table beneath the window that looked out over the yard behind the house, sandwiches and pickles and potato chips (homemade, of course), complete with a sweating pitcher of iced tea and some of the pie she'd brought him from town yesterday (butterscotch cinnamon, a local treasure that she'd never heard of before and couldn't get enough of), and she snorted quietly to herself, shaking her head, before going to the kitchen sink and doing as she'd been bidden, washing the oil from her hands and face as well as she could without a mirror.

Always on top of everything, Saejun... and he complained about her working too hard.

Both of her companions had made their way into the kitchen as well by the time she was done, drying her hands and face (and her now slightly damp flyaways, still stubbornly curling out of control despite her best attempts) with one of Saejun's dishtowels; the older monster was buried to his broad shoulders in the fridge, humming and moving things around inside, and the larger, now sans boots (heh), lingered near the table and was fidgeting with the back of one of the chairs, clearly waiting to pull it out for her.

Throwing the damp towel over her shoulder and trying very, very hard not to smile quite as broadly as she wanted to (her heart ached with adoration, he was trying so hard and she was so touched-), Frisk rounded the island in the middle of the kitchen and accommodated Sans' unspoken wish, letting him pull out her chair before seating himself in the large, reinforced one he'd dragged up beside it. He looked intensely pleased with himself, a dusting of deep blue magic lingering on his rough cheekbones and his clawed fingertips apparently incapable of stilling themselves as he picked at the crocheted tablecloth, and glanced around the room idly as Saejun emerged from the fridge's depths with a jar of mayonnaise and a pat of butter, obviously taking in how clean the house was.

Saejun was a neat monster, and kept his home and farm in good condition, but spring was a busy time, and some things had to be let go of, one of those things being keeping the kitchen back-splash spotless. It was particularly surprising today, in fact, considering that Saejun had told them he would be spending most of the day, and likely the next, taking stock of everything that had been stored the fall before.

"you've been busy. inventory went well?" Sans remarked as Saejun set his finds on the table, dipping his skull in agreement when Frisk silently offered to pour him a glass of tea, and the older monster, plopping himself into the chair on Frisk's other side with a groan, nodded in affirmation, shucking off his gloves, pulling the wheat strand from his mouth to lay carefully beside his plate, and reaching out to drag the platter of sandwiches in the middle of the table closer to himself.

"right y'are. with miss frisk's assistance, everythin' was laid up good'n right. ain't seen the stores so nicely organized since pilsu went his own way," he replied as he tipped two sandwiches onto Frisk's plate for her before fetching his own, fondness weaving into his voice at the mention of his beloved younger brother (the tall, lanky monster had worked this land alongside Saejun for centuries before, about three years previous, deciding he wanted to finally explore the world and find his place in it), and Frisk brightened at the news, pleased and flattered by the comment.

It had been a nightmare to do, if she was honest; as neat as the aged skeleton was, he had no mind, nor patience, for organization, and his storehouses had been something of a mess before she'd decided to intervene. It was all worth it, if it had paid off in such dividends as to save Saejun so much time and work, and she couldn't help the pleased smile that stretched across her face, busily setting the tea she'd poured Sans beside his plate (he murmured his thanks, reaching for it before she'd fully let it go and brushing his fingertips against hers, causing a spark of pleased but shocked awareness to leap between the point of contact) and fussing with the sandwiches Saejun had plopped onto her plate.

"I'm glad I could help! I thought it might be easier for you," she muttered bashfully, fumbling with her butter knife so she could spread a little on her bread (she truly was happy to help, anything she could do to help him more than a pleasure, but always struggled when it came time for him to give thanks, always overcome by shyness), but the older skeleton, tsking his magical tongue against the back of his teeth, shot her a frank look over the top of the jar of pickles he was plumbing the depths of.

"modesty's a virtue, darlin', but invaluable's what it was. wasn't your job t'do, and y'went above an' beyond the call of duty with it despite that. i won't let you demean your hard work," he lectured, ruining the entire picture of sternness by shaking a pickle at her and spraying droplets of vinegar on the tablecloth (she'd have laughed if she wasn't so stunned by his sincerity, taken entirely aback by just how grateful he was), and turned to look on Sans as he scooped the rest of the pile of sandwiches onto his plate, raising his brow bones meaningfully.

"sans, remind me t'pay it forward, come payday," he directed matter-of-factly, biting into his pickle with relish, and Sans hummed in agreement, sending a covert and sly glance towards the flabbergasted human sitting between them, hemming and hawing to herself as she tried to find the words to articulate both her surprise and her dissonance with the entire situation.

It was a difficult thing to do, as out of left field as the entire situation was (at least for her, it was... she'd expected nothing more than a simple thanks for doing what she considered a given), and, utterly flustered and blushing more than she was certain she had thus far that entire year, Frisk finally managed to put her tongue in order and splutter out a response, setting down her forgotten butter knife after having clutched it so hard, in her distraction, that her fingers ached.

"Now hold on- no you don't. It was my pleasure, I won't take a dirty hay-penny from you for it," she protested lividly, furrowing her brows in her best attempt at severity and tapping her forefinger against the tabletop to make her point solid... and was further taken aback when, rather than acting even a little cowed, both skeletons grinned at her broadly, snickering to themselves and sending each other knowing glances.

"ain't that 'bout right."

"told you. like a book."

Wind now properly stolen from her sails and at a total loss, Frisk's shoulders drooped, gaze moving between the two conspiratorially chuckling monsters in confusion.

"What?" she queried bemusedly, blinking and cast adrift, and Saejun huffed out another snicker, leaning an elbow on the tabletop, setting his chin on his balled up knuckles, and smirking at her from beneath half-lidded sockets, his expression rife with smug candor.

"reckoned you'd make a fuss 'bout it, but wanted to show my 'preciation anyhow. sent sans into town earlier this mornin' to get y'something nice instead, no pennies involved. y'can consider it an early birthday gift, if it settles you," he rejoined, waving his free hand at Sans and turning back to his plate to start in on his lunch as though it were nothing, and Frisk, startled and spluttering yet again (she just couldn't seem to keep it together today), looked between the two monsters aimlessly, watching Saejun take a large, satisfied bite of one of his sandwiches on the one hand and Sans stand from his chair to fetch a small, brown paper and twine wrapped package from the top of the sideboard on the other.

This was too much, they couldn't spring something so... so thoughtful and sweet on her without announcement, she was going to embarrass herself even more than she already had today-

"But-" she started to protest, watching Sans lay the package beside her hand delicately with wide eyes and a hammering heart (she was putting far too much significance in this, it didn't mean anything, it was as Saejun had said, just repayment for her work, that was all), but the large, damaged monster, regaining his seat beside her, sent her the exact tender, pleading look that had talked her into staying many a late evening effortlessly, his bony brows arched just the way that plucked her heartstrings like a fiddle.

"let us do this for you. please," he rumbled, nudging the package against the side of her hand with a clawed fingertip and sending her a soft, hopeful half-smile that melted her into a puddle effortlessly, a smile of her own, small and fond, spreading across her face as she gave in (just like she always did anytime either of them asked her for anything, she was so weak, but she just couldn't help it...) and picked up the little package, tracing her fingertips across the carefully folded paper with barely withheld excitement.

What had they gotten her? It seemed small and selfish to dwell on it, but the thought that they'd put their heads together to get her something they knew she'd like excited her more than she cared to admit.

"...Oh, you know I can't say no to that face. Thank you," she relented softly, sending them both grateful looks from beneath the thick curl of her dark lashes before glancing back to the box in her hands, and the pair of them, exposed to the fullness of her gratitude, had the grace to be just as affected as her, a soft chartreuse flush spreading across Saejun's cheekbones as he hid his face and mumbled response in his food ("ain't nothin', honey, ain't nothin'-") and Sans' grin, already sincere and deep, tilting into a lopsided and almost tender smile, his iris practically fluttering as he watched her pick at the twine strings wrapped around her gift with obvious excitement.

Frisk, for her part, didn't notice their changed expressions, attention fully focused on keeping her fingers from trembling so much that it was noticeable as she worked to unwrap the box in her hands. The expectant silence was too heavy, meant too much to her hopeful and desperate heart, and she couldn't help but fill it with a terse little chuckle and idle chatter, finally stripping off the twine and balling it up on the tabletop, beside her thus far untouched plate.

"Absolute scoundrels, the both of you, conspiring against me. I didn't even think you remembered when my birthday was," she admitted laughingly, working to unfold one of the sides of the paper so she could slide the box inside into her palm (it was a very nice box, too, a crisp white lined with silver foil), and at her side, Saejun let out a snort, raising his brow bones and sending her a sarcastic glance over the top of his glass of tea as he sipped at it, the ice cubes within clinking together with the motion.

"we wouldn't forget your birthday, darlin'," he supplied simply, setting his glass back down and wiping his mouth on the back of his hand before doing just as Sans was doing and watching her unwrap her gift expectantly. It was all she could do not to drop the box altogether from her jumbled nerves, returning the older monster's glance with one of her own before turning her eyes back to the box in her hands and biting her lower lip, carefully sliding the top off.

"No, I suppose not, considering you don't... you don't celebrate... yours..." she agreed, recalling all the times she'd tried to pry the information from the both of them (monsters lived so long that they really didn't bother with birthdays, many of the longer-lived species, like Mister Gerson down near the river, often forgetting exactly how old they were as their age grew), but stumbled over her tongue and into silence as the top of the box came loose and revealed what lay within, her breath stolen from her completely.

It was a hair comb. A gleaming, golden, beautiful hair comb, adorned with topaz stars and lacquered yellow buttercups, glittering beneath the overhead light and casting shining fractals of light across the small padded cushion it lay on. She'd looked at it often, sitting in the jeweler's window in town... tried to talk herself into buying something so ridiculous and pretty for herself many times, even though she would never have cause to wear it, knowing it would just sit on her dresser gathering dust.

How... how had they even known? She'd never... she'd never said she wanted something like this-

"i've seen you admiring it, every time we go to do the shopping. thought you'd like it," Sans volunteered softly, through the haze of her astonishment and as though in answer to her exact thoughts, and she finally tore her eyes from the gorgeous hairpin, looking up at him with stuttering breath and unwilling tears pricking at the edges of her eyes. She looked between the two beaming monsters in stunned awe, reluctant to believe this moment was even real.

It hadn't been an exorbitantly expensive piece, beyond her budget but not ridiculous... but no one, no one, had ever bought her something like this before. The nicest thing she'd ever gotten before had been the blender she'd received in the town's secret Santa exchange two years ago, and she'd been over the moon about that.

This... this was...

"Sans, I... Saejun... I couldn't possibly..." she whispered haltingly, her lower lip trembling and the surface of the comb blurring through the gathering of tears on her lashes (she couldn't seem to stop them, she was so embarrassed but it was just... it was so nice, and it was from them), and the older skeleton, expression creased with knowing but austere gravity, scooted his chair closer to hers, the legs squeaking against the tile, and set his hand over the one that held the box in its palm, closing her fingers around it more firmly.

His thumb smoothed over the back of her hand soothingly, his sockets holding her tear speckled gaze and his smile soft and crooked. Her already affected heart thumped louder, her cheeks flushing for the thousand and first time that day and making her head light.

"yes y'can. woman like you needs a few pretty things; stars know y'won't get'em for yourself," he encouraged quietly, pushing the box, and her hand, back towards her where she had started to hold it back out to him unconsciously, and Frisk sniffled, letting him and trying to quiet the pounding drum of her heart as she did so. Her hand felt strangely cold, when Saejun pulled his back into his own care slowly (his fingertips had lingered, dragging along hers, and her skin tingled pleasantly where he had touched), and she had to distract herself with pulling the hair comb from its box to keep from reaching out to chase his hand, to return it to its rightful place.

Carried away. Getting carried away. Take what you have and be grateful.

Don't be selfish and greedy, you've been given so much today already.

...one last indulgence.

"Put it in for me?" she requested of the room at large, without even looking up from the stunning pin sitting in her palm (she'd been bold enough to ask, but not enough to face the consequences of the asking), and outside the circle of her awareness, both of the monsters sitting at the table stiffened, equal and intense longing in their magically lit sockets as they glanced away from the woman between them and to each other.

There was a beat of electrically charged silence, something unspoken traversing through their reflected expressions, before Saejun dipped his skull and looked back to his plate, and Sans, an excited twist to his grin, turned his gaze back to Frisk and nudged his chair around the back of hers, taking the comb from her extended hand carefully. He set it on his jean-covered femur for safekeeping as he reached up to pull the ribbon from her tresses, nearly hidden among the voluminous curls, and marveled at them as they tumbled free of its clutches, hanging over the back of the chair and just below her shoulders. He looked almost greedy as his large hands framed the freed locks, running their curling ends indulgently over his phalanges, before lifting the mass of her hair into his palms and twisting it gently upwards.

Frisk, adjusting her position in her seat so he could better arrange her hair (had he ever done a human's hair before? She had no idea, was she making them uncomfortable for even having asked, what if they thought it was gross, oh god-), did her best to keep herself still, though shivers kept running down her spine at the feeling of his claws sliding through and pulling lightly at her curls. She bit her lower lip to keep herself quiet, focused almost entirely on the sensation and intimacy of the moment (forced though it had been, through her lack of shame), and thus was totally unprepared for the sudden drag of one of his knuckles along the shell of her ear and along her jaw, jumping slightly in surprise.

She turned her head a little, in the loose grip he had on her hair, enough to be able to see his expression, and he looked... she couldn't tell. She couldn't see enough of his face to be able to fully judge how he was feeling, but his smile had a tinge of guilt to it, his phalanges shifting in her hair to pile the mass of it higher on her head... his wandering fingertip following the shape of a curl too short to join the others, at the nape of her neck.

She shuddered at the feeling, stimulated beyond her ability to control, and his iris snapped up from the path his finger was taking and to her sideways glance, holding her gaze.

"...i'm sorry for growling at you. i didn't mean to. i just-" he muttered beneath his breath after a moment spent just looking at her, completely still and quiet, and Frisk blinked at him, confused for a moment. Had he growled at her? She couldn't recall the last time he had, it had to have been months ago now, as far as she could recall-

...oh. Behind the barn, when she'd touched his arm without him being prepared for her to.

She interrupted him before he could even finish his totally unnecessary apology, her lips quirking to the side and one of her hands reaching up and over her shoulder, slowly so he could see it coming, to lay her fingers over the tips of his phalanges, where they lingered at the base of her neck. She squeezed them comfortingly, her smile just for him.

"I know. No sorries necessary," she murmured in response, sending him a sideways wink, and pulled back just as slowly as she'd reached for him, turning back around to let him finish her hair. Saejun was smiling to himself as he pulled a bit of crust from his remaining sandwich, when she turned back fully, and gave her a short, approving nod when she raised an eyebrow at him, obviously pleased with the pair's reparations. She shrugged good-naturedly at that, smiling as impishly as she could while Sans' fingers twisted with her hair (she... she was going to need a moment to recover from this feeling), and the older monster snorted out a chuckle at her expression, shaking his head.

Only a moment, and the slide of the teeth of the comb into her hair to secure it, later, and Sans was done with her hair, scooting his chair back, setting her faded ribbon beside her plate, and looking her over with a magnitude that only made her blush more, twirling the loose curl at the nape of her neck around one finger bashfully. He'd done a pretty good job of it, though the twist was a little loose (he'd obviously been making great efforts not to hurt her, the giant sweetheart), and it became clear he was admiring his work a moment later, as a proud grin stretched across his face to accentuate the intensity of his stare.

"you look amazing," he complimented gruffly, shifting in his seat as he settled into it more comfortably in the wake of his motion (the chair squeaked slightly, complaining under the weight of the massive monster even despite it's being reinforced), and before she could even properly deny the claim, feeling a little faint from all the attention and compliments that day, Saejun piped up from his seat, patting around his broad grin with his handkerchief and eyeing the comb peeking out of the mass of her frizzy curls appreciatively.

"a sight to 'pin' over, though that's 'hair'dly a shock~" he joked teasingly, never one to miss an opportunity to subject those around him to his taste in humor (Sans, across the table, snickered to himself, his nasal ridge crinkling adorably), yet despite the puns, one glance from the corner of her eyes at the older monster told her he was just as sincere as Sans was in his regard, her flush now so deep and pronounced that she could hear it throbbing in her ears, her hands rising to cover her face in an attempt to recover some of her dignity.

It wasn't enough for them to give her such a beautiful gift, was it? They had to be so... so nice, and look at her like she was the only thing in the world, and make her feel like there was some sort of hope for the desperate and chiding voice in her head begging for her to believe she could have what she really wanted.

But there wasn't. Again, she was just seeing what she wanted to see. She wasn't going to ruin the moment with her overreaching, either, and rubbed her palms into her eyes for a moment, hiding the selfish tears wanting to spring forth, before looking back up at the both of them with a laugh, a dismissive hand wave, and an ironic smile.

"Please... I'm covered in dirt and grease, and my hair's just as bad. A comb doesn't change that, no matter how pretty it is," she sighed, tracing a finger around the edge of her plate to have something to do with her hands beside reach up to touch the hair comb (if she didn't stop herself, she would be fiddling with the thing all day, and if she wanted to keep it looking as nice as it did, she needed to avoid touching it too much... despite her rampant desire to admire and fawn over it), and the monsters sat at her sides both frowned as one, brow bones lowering over narrowed, almost offended sockets. Saejun opened his mouth to deny her claim, arms folding across his broad chest stubbornly, but Sans, clawed phalanges digging into his jeans emotionally, spoke before he could.

"no, it doesn't."

Both Frisk and Saejun stared at him, stunned by his frankness, Frisk with a sinking heart (o-oh... she hadn't been digging for a compliment, but...) and Saejun with questioning accusation in his glare, but the large monster wasn't finished, leaning over the edge of the table to hold the human woman's gaze with indubitable sincerity.

"you're always beautiful. dirt and all, comb or not," he supplied firmly, his wide iris still and intense and practically burning as he attempted to convey the depth of his earnestness, and Frisk, meeting his stare with all the strength she could muster, felt her blush return full force, so suddenly that she nearly swayed in her seat, dizzy from surprise and flattered but disbelieving humility. She could feel herself trembling, her breath escaping her parted lips in tiny pants (she only flushed darker when his gaze darted down to them, snapping her mouth closed and trying to control her breathing) and her hands fisted in her lap, and looked away from his penetrating gaze after only a few moments, practically squirming in her seat.

It was far cry from the first time that she'd been called that, but... it was different, coming from him. It meant so much that she could hardly believe she'd heard it with her own ears, and she struggled to come up with any sort of response beyond her stammering and blushing, staring at the backs of her hands in her lap and worrying her lower lip between her teeth and trying not to melt into a puddle right where she sat.

She must look so foolish...

Saejun seemed to pity her state, watching her fumble and stutter and blush in her seat with a small, admiring smile for a short moment before kicking Sans' leg beneath the table, effectively breaking the larger monster's poignant and pinning stare. The older skeleton merely gave a short, meaningful shake of his skull at the disgruntled look he received for his interruption, gently admonishing, and pointed a phalange at Sans' overflowing, and thus far untouched, plate of food indicatively.

"let's get to eatin' a'fore the lady faints away completely. c'ain't sit around complimentin' her all day... pleasant as it'd be," he directed mildly, reaching out to push Frisk's own plate into her line of sight with a fingertip, and sent her a wink when she glanced up at him from the corner of her eye, turning back to his own plate pointedly immediately afterwards. Sans acquiesced a moment later, though not without one last, lingering look thrown at the woman beside him (and the deep and persistent blush that ran all the way down her neck), and Frisk, letting out a quiet, shuddering breath, did as she was bidden and turned to her food as well, allowing the silence to siphon away her shyness and morph it into the comfort she was much more accustomed to.

Not that it was all that uncomfortable, really. It wasn't as though it was unwelcome, all of the attention and their extolment... stars knew she was desperate for it. The actuality of it happening, though, was simply too much all at once, everything that she had dared to dream of in her quietest, silliest moments coalescing into an early afternoon far too full of wishful fantasy made reality for her nerves to handle. She wondered, on a whim, if she should pinch herself, to make absolutely certain that she wasn't asleep... and resolutely kept from doing so, nibbling her sandwiches and watching a few wispy clouds skitter by, through the slice of window bared by the parted drapes.

If this was a dream, it was one she didn't want to wake up from. Perhaps, for most, it was a tame one, a simple gift and a few words of endearment, but it was all she wanted (and could possibly ever have), and in this moment, perhaps selfishly, she wasn't ashamed of it. She likely would be later, when her right mind and her accountability returned to her, but for now, she would revel in her gift and her monsters' attention, and pretend it meant more than it really did.

A girl could dream.

Saejun struck up an affable conversation before too long, asking after their work that day and, none too obviously, moving the conversation into more easy avenues than those they had been following moments previously, and both Frisk and Sans went along with the change seamlessly, letting the intensity of the prior conversation pass on without comment. They finished their lunch in such geniality, commenting softly to each other on the usual and expected goodness of the pie (Miss Toriel really was a talent) and the warming weather (not that it affected them much, as skeleton monsters) before beginning to clear up the table, Sans making his way out to the barn to feed the scraps to Saejun's pig and Frisk, with a determined set to her brow, rolling up her metaphorical sleeves to do the dishes.

She was starting to feel a tad unhelpful, especially considering how little progress she had made on the tractor that morning (maybe she really should give it up and actually be useful, go see about setting the watering lines straight like she'd been meaning to for the days the old girl had been fighting her...); doing the dishes seemed fine recompense, much as she disliked the triviality of the chore, and set about scrubbing bits of crust and breadcrumbs from the porcelain with resolute vigor, pouring her absolute focus into defeating the tea stains in the bottom corners of the cups with a might that Undyne, down at the gym, would be proud of.

And she was puttering along just fine, though she wrinkled her nose at her slightly pruny fingertips, when she received a hip check out of the blue, bumping her gently away from the front of the sink.

"budge up there, darlin'."

A skeletal hand deftly plucked the scrub brush from her surprise loosened grip, effectively robbing her of her attempt to be useful, and she turned an accusing, but lighthearted, glare to the grinning monster gently shepherding her away from the sink. She'd been hoping to get them done before Saejun noticed... she'd thought he'd be busy shaking out the tablecloth and scrubbing the tabletop for a little longer.

"I can do it-" she protested lamely, trying to snatch the scrub brush back from him, and pursed her lips in vexation when he only held it further away from her, resisting her attempt and only scooting her further away in her distraction. Her damp, soapy hands perched on her hips almost automatically, lips parting to chastise him appropriately, but he cut off her obvious attempt with a warm chuckle and a fond sideways glance that stole the breath from her lungs, sending her heart racing yet again.

"an' i can help. i know y'ain't fond of it, and there ain't no need t'martyr yourself before the faucet when i can keep y'company," he snickered, raising one bony brow meaningfully over a knowing socket (damn, he knew her too well...), before extending his free hand to pull the forgotten dishcloth from her shoulder, setting it over one of her balled fists and directing her to the small pile of already washed dishes now in front of her, as she'd been shuffled away from her former duty. "i'll wash, you dry."

She remained stubbornly unmoving for a moment, quirking her lips to the side and ignoring the dishcloth pointedly... before her shoulders drooped and an acquiescing sigh escaped her, her head shaking side to side (gently; she didn't want to accidentally shake the slightly too loose comb out of place) as she turned obediently to the damp dishes.

"Fair enough," she grumbled, picking one up and wiping the lingering water from its surface as way of abatement (though not without a hip check of her own, light and playful enough to convey her lack of temper), and Saejun's smile tilted upwards at one corner as he assumed his own occupation, huffing out a laugh and pretending to stagger slightly with her bump.

"thanks, honey. wanted a moment with y'anyhow... clear the air, as it were," he replied, revealing the intent behind his more than welcome intrusion (much as she wanted to actually do something, she didn't regret having the much despised chore of washing stolen away from her), and Frisk, humming under her breath as she stacked a dried plate on top of the growing pile of them, sent him a glance from the corner of her eye, curious and lost.

"Of what?" she queried encouragingly, when he made no move to continue the conversation himself (he seemed almost... hesitant, sockets trained fixedly on the swiftly emptying sink in front of him), and the skeleton monster beside her heaved out a hefty sigh, leaning his elbows on the edge of the sink before, with what looked like great difficulty, he turned his gaze to her, something that looked worryingly like remorse weighing down his already heavy brows.

"i'm hopin' y'can forgive me and sans our connivin' ways, surprisin' y'like we did. y'take so little care for yourself, seemed a shame not t'do somethin' nice for you given the opportunity, small as it is. i know y'don't feel deservin', untrue though it be, an' we mighta embarrassed you for it. i ain't sorry for doin' it, but i never meant t'cause you discomfort, an' i am sorry for that," he said, solemn sincerity in every note of his voice and in the weight of his magical gaze, and Frisk could only blink at him, absolutely thrown.

He thought that her reaction to the comb, her shyness and flustered reticence, was because he'd made her uncomfortable?

That was a shortcoming on her part, and one she couldn't, in good conscience, let lie. Nothing had ever made her happier, could still feel the lingering effects of her adoration for it, and the monsters that had given it to her, coursing in her blood to send her heart aflutter... she couldn't let him think she'd only accepted it through propriety.

As such, she lay her dishcloth on the counter, beside the dish rack and the stack of already dried dishes, and reached out a hand to gently clasp the older monster's shoulder, giving it as comforting a squeeze as she could manage while, at the same time, marveling inwardly at how surprisingly brawny it was. Sans made his strength clear almost every day, and worked shirtless in the warmer months (she definitely wasn't complaining, as strange as it sounded to be attracted to bare bones...), but it was easy to forget, at times, that Saejun was, while smaller in stature and far more demure in dress, nearly as strong as his larger counterpart, bones just as thick and well built.

Despite being nearly the same height, she had little doubt he could sweep her up in his arms effortlessly... could lift her up on the edge of the counter right behind her and-

"There's nothing to forgive, Saejun, I swear. You didn't embarrass me, I'm just... you know. Not used to this kind of treatment," she blurted out quickly, wildly attempting to dismiss the rampant and almost unabashed thoughts that had started to fill her mind's eye, pulling her hand back when she realized that it had been lingering on his shoulder just a little too long to be merely friendly.

He was looking at her oddly, as she retracted it, the flecks of light in his sockets flicking over her face as though searching for something, intense and penetrating, and she floundered for a moment, cheeks pinking and idly hanging hand rising to pull nervously at a loose curl, framing the side of her face. He was obviously waiting for her to continue, though she couldn't understand why his own cheekbones were a little flushed as well (maybe she'd embarrassed him, touching him too long...), and she scrambled for something to say for a moment before, belatedly, recalling what they'd been talking about in the first place, fingers lifting just a little higher to trace along the cool metal of the comb.

"I've... I've never gotten something as nice as this, least of all as a gift, and I... I was too happy to even put it into proper words. I didn't even thank you for it, did I..." she mused to herself, slowly coming to realize that she had, indeed, not said a single word of thanks for such a beautiful and thoughtful gift, lowering her eyes to the toes of her mismatched socks abashedly at the realization.

No wonder he'd thought he'd humiliated her. She was so ungrateful, always caught up in her own thoughts and wants and never thinking of others...

"So. Um. Thank you. I love it, I really do. ...you are too good to me," she whispered shamefully to the floor at her feet, slowly lowering her hand to her side, from where it lingered on the surface of the comb in her hair... and jolted in surprise when its path was halted, Saejun's larger, slightly damp hand (from washing the dishes, she could smell the detergent on his bones-) sliding into her grasp to squeeze it in a similar manner to the way she just had been clasping his shoulder. His other hand extended into her line of sight a moment later, tucking a curled phalange beneath her chin lightly, and raised her gaze from the ground to meet his own, far softer than it had been a moment before.

His smile was gentle, as gentle as the path his thumb took as it swept across her chin idly, a breath from the curve of her lower lip. His sockets were creased at the corners, the familiar, deep laugh lines illuminated by the magic lighting their dark depths, and his fingers, in her stilled hand, shifted to lace with hers, their palms falling together as perfectly as though they'd been created to meet in tandem.

"far's i'm concerned, not good enough," he murmured, his thumb circling to sweep across her chin again... the tip climbing higher to, definitively this time, slide across the lower curve of her bottom lip, his gaze flicking down to follow its path. A flash of what Frisk wanted to call longing flashed across his expression, then, speeding her heart in her chest and making her mind fizzle like an old television... and then it was gone, his body turned back to the sink, his hands pulling back and plunging into the dish water to pull the plug hurriedly (it had almost overflowed, in their mutual distraction), the slash of his expression that she could see almost carefully blank.

She felt cold and alone, in the wake of his fled touch, like she'd been woken from a very pleasant dream with a splash of ice water. Her skin tingled where his bones had met it, assuring her that the moment had been real... but stole away more and more as the seconds ticked by, as surely and as quickly as that expression had darted across his face.

Had it been her imagination? A trick of the light, or even worse, just a whim of her love-struck mind?

She didn't know, her heart beat slowly settling and her blush fleeing once more and leaving her in the lonesomeness of her desperate wonderment (she... she'd thought, for a crazy moment, that he was going to kiss her, raising shaking fingers to touch her parted lips as though to feel his touch still persisting there-) as Saejun himself, scrub brush once again in hand, seemed perfectly content to pretend that nothing had happened at all, humming to himself and placing another clean dish on the rack for her to dry off.

She supposed she should take her cue from him and carry on too...

Much as she wanted to dwell on the fleeting memory of that look all the rest of the afternoon (and likely would), Frisk turned back to her task as well, drying the dishes set before her dutifully and, as her companion began to move on to washing the silverware, putting them back in the cabinets to await their next usage. As she was reaching up to put the platter on one of the top shelves, teetering on the tips of her toes and wishing idly that Sans was around to reach it for her, Saejun, behind her, made a sound reminiscent of clearing his throat, obviously attempting to get her attention.

Giving up on the platter for the moment in high favor of instead paying him her attention (maybe he really would address what had just transpired between them), she turned back to face him... or at least, the side of him, as he was still washing a few pieces of the silver, fiddling lingeringly with one of the butter knives as he chewed something over in his head. The flush was back on his cheekbones, a light green that she knew was also the color of his tongue, when he summoned it (and was also likely to be, she thought to herself on lonely nights, the color of... other things), and his gaze flicked to the side when he saw that he had her attention, one of his ankles crossing over the other to bounce his foot idly.

"while i'm takin' advantage of your good will... i hope you'll stay late friday evenin', if'n y'don't already have plans. wanted t'have a little shindig, just us three," he queried hopefully, again turning to the subject of a birthday that she had forgotten was coming up and truly hadn't expected anyone else to remember (no one ever really had, where she'd lived before... she'd been orphaned from a young age, and in and out of foster homes after that, so her birthday had almost always gone by unnoticed, especially by her), and Frisk blinked in the wealth of her surprise, clutching the platter in her hands a little too tightly.

He (and Sans, more likely than not...) wanted to do more? They'd already given her a present, one she still couldn't quite wrap her head around, and wanted to have a party on top of it?

Maybe she really was dreaming.

"Is one birthday surprise not enough for you?" she chuckled weakly in an attempt to ground herself, turning away to hide her all too obviously wistful expression inside the dish cabinet (she could look like she was rearranging the plates for a second while she calmed down, that was innocuous enough-), and behind her, the faucet finally shut off, the monster behind her unplugging the sink and setting about putting the flatware in their drawer, if she could tell anything from the clinking of metal against wood.

She could practically feel his sardonic smile through the air between them, though, a laugh on his teasing and inviting tone... obviously moved on from the moment that had passed between them, if there had been a moment at all and it wasn't just her desperate mind pulling fantasy from thin air.

Wouldn't be the first time...

"not nearly, darlin'. we missed out last year, an' thirty's somethin' t'really celebrate. 'sides, technically ain't done nothin' for it yet, have we?" he cajoled just out of sight, the sink drain swirling and slurping in the background as it emptied, and though Frisk felt she should put up at least a little bit of a fight, already overwhelmed by the comb she could feel the weight of in her hair and the care that had gone into it, she knew that if Saejun couldn't convince her, Sans would sway her into it later.

One day, she'd be able to tell them no.

Right.

"Oh alright. But this is all the spoiling you're allowed. If you're not careful, I'm gonna start expecting this kind of treatment all the time," she sighed with exaggerated weariness (she wished there was any part of her that wasn't selfishly greedy for all the time she could scrounge from them, but there really wasn't), reaching again to try to put the platter on the top shelf... only for Saejun to reach over her shoulder and pluck it from her grasp.

He met her eye with a sideways wink, reaching up to plunk the platter in its place on the shelf... and didn't move away even after he'd done so, his extended hand settling on the countertop in front of her, his broad chest nearly pressed to her shoulder, crowded into the corner of the cabinets as they were.

He held her gaze meaningfully, his smile shifting to become less teasing and more reminiscent of the one he'd given her in their moment unspoken.

"as y'should," he muttered quietly, almost as though afraid to break the tension in the air, and though she hoped he would linger the way he had before, though she wanted to press her immeasurable luck and lean in closer... neither of those things happened. Saejun stepped back, his fingers fetching the strand of wheat he'd been chewing that morning from the front pocket of his coveralls to re-insert between his teeth, and Frisk let him do so, leaning her hip against the cabinet beside her hard to make sure she didn't move from that spot, either.

She couldn't trust herself, not with how flighty as her heart and desires were being that day, and clamped her mouth shut to keep from offering to let him know just how welcome he was to spoil her, carefully and laboriously folding the damp dishcloth in her hands as way of keeping them occupied. It was an awfully rude cue to give, if a totally necessary one (she couldn't think of anything appropriate to say at all, completely consumed by flight and fancy), but the older monster didn't seem offended by her silence, merely nodding his head and, after wiping down the sink to rid it of lingering soap, making his way to the kitchen doorway.

Frisk watched him go from the corner of her eye, watched him unroll his sleeves and slip his gloves back over his age worn phalanges wistfully, before noticing, as he passed the kitchen island, a little pile of neatly folded fabric on its edge, sticking out against its newly scrubbed surface.

Her ribbon. She'd forgotten about it entirely, in the aftermath of receiving the comb... Saejun must have put it there after he'd cleaned the table.

Idly, almost whimsically, she wandered over to it and picked it up from the countertop, letting the faded, slightly threadbare material unfurl around her fingers. It had been satiny, once, bright red and quite pretty, for a ribbon... that had been years ago. She'd been wearing it the day she met Saejun, in fact... he'd complimented it, commenting on how well it went with her complexion. She may or may not have worn it every day since then, put the poor thing to work far beyond its prime.

A little obvious, perhaps, and not exactly practical (it tended to slip a lot while she worked, often resulting in the mess her hair was currently in), but she couldn't help herself.

She wondered, as she wound the ribbon around her fingers thoughtfully, if he even remembered something so small. Likely not... it had been over five years now, and it was such an innocuous thing to give such significance to. He was well liked among the populous of the town (especially among the female monsters), and he wasn't exactly miserly with his flirtations... one little comment about a stupid ribbon probably meant nothing to him, long gone from his memory.

It had meant the world to her, though, unused to attention so benign and gentlemanly (she was far more used to catcalls and unwanted groping), and had sparked the curiosity that gave rise to her ridiculous, head over heels infatuation.

It was likely time to retire it, though. She certainly wasn't going to wear the comb to work every day (she couldn't chance it getting dirty or damaged, it would break her heart), but the ribbon had long worn out its usefulness. Maybe Miss Bonnie had a similar material at her shop in town that she could get a cut of, she'd rather not-

"sans was right, by the by."

Frisk nearly dropped the ribbon entirely, jerked out of her thoughts by the sudden entrance of Saejun's voice into them. She hadn't even realized he was still there, completely lost to her considerations, and turned to see him lingering in the kitchen doorway, one gloved hand set against the frame, his skull half turned towards her. His sideways gaze was on the ribbon the same as hers had been, obviously watching her twirl the faded material around her fingers, and she blinked in confusion, once again caught off guard.

What had Sans said? Had she missed it in the middle of her fumbling?

"Hmm?" she queried intelligently, self-consciously balling the ribbon up and shoving it unceremoniously into one of the pockets of her jeans (he probably thought she was so ridiculous, playing with a stupid ribbon-), and with the object of his former focus now out of sight, Saejun raised his gaze to meet hers, sending her a warm half smile that reached all the way up to crinkle his sockets.

"y'always look beautiful. ain't a scrap of mud or bit of hard work can change that," he enumerated, arching his bony brows meaningfully in an attempt to convey his seriousness, and with his bit said, departed, whistling quietly to himself as he disappeared around the corner. With his leaving, he missed out on the raging blush that rose, yet again, to plague her, and she wasn't sure whether it was boon or bane that he had left her to consider his words on her own, looking at the empty space he had stood only a moment ago hazily before, in a dreamy daze, wandering across the kitchen and towards the small bathroom beside the back door, one hand pressing to her chest in an attempt to calm her pounding heart.

It really wasn't fair, that they were able to do this to her so easily... she supposed it, in large part, had to do with her intense attraction to them that she was so affected, but there was a part of her that wanted to be able to do the same to them. To leave them speechless, charmed and intrigued with her wit and her ability to finally, at long last, say how she really felt for them...

Frisk snorted, as she meandered her way into the restroom and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror over the sink, unimpressed with the mess she had made of herself (the little peeks of the comb she could see in her hair did look nice, admittedly). Charmed indeed. Her hair, dirty as it was, did look better for Sans' interference... but that was no excuse for the rest of it. Her general sloppiness and disrepair spoke to how comfortable she was with the boys, not seeing the need to doll herself up just to be in their presence... and she supposed it wouldn't be a very practical thing to do anyhow, considering the sort of work they did.

She just didn't know how they could use the term 'beautiful' for what she was looking at in the mirror.

That was her own problem though, she supposed as she did her best to clean herself up minutely, careful to keep from upsetting the pile of frizzy curls Sans had so carefully arranged on top of her head as she did so (it was loose and a little precarious, she could certainly fix it to secure it better... but she also didn't want to ruin it, strangely attached to the fact that he had done it for her). She would have to take them at their word, despite the incredibly foolish hope that it instilled in her heart, and found, unsurprisingly, very little hardship in the acceptance of it, in allowing their flattery to worm its way into her core to warm her from the inside out.

She could get used to them thinking of her like that, even if it wasn't in the way that she really wanted.

She spent a little too much time in the bathroom washing up, finding herself frequently distracted by the striking flashes of gold among her tresses (she needed to get a nice jewelry box to keep it in, she couldn't bear the thought of losing it or having it scrambled together with the rest of the mess on her dresser) and her wandering, enamored thoughts, so long that when she finally wandered her way back out of the house to return to work, she was genuinely surprised to see both of her companions lingering about the bottom of the porch stairs, leaning against the railings and chatting amiably with each other.

She blinked down at them, taken aback by their presence and almost completely forgetting to put her work boots back on as they turned their attention away from each other and their conversation and to her.

"Oh, I'm so sorry... were you waiting on me?" she excused weakly as she sat in the chair beside the door to put on her boots, flushed with embarrassment at the thought that she had kept them waiting while twirling around in the bathroom, but Sans only raised and lowered one broad shoulder as he pushed away from the railing to stand to his full height, his expression unbothered.

"wasn't that long. didn't wanna head back without you," he dismissed easily, his scarlet iris flicking up to her hair as she bent to tie her laces (his smile crooked, at the sight that both the comb and the way he had arranged her hair was untouched, pleased by the affirmation), and Saejun, once again wearing his wide brimmed hat, nodded along in accord, hefting a worn gardening hoe onto one shoulder.

"ain't no hardship in waitin' on a fine lady," he rejoined affably, tugging on the brim of his hat in a charming and shallow bow as Frisk gained her feet and clomped her way down the stairs, and Frisk made a sound much too flustered to excuse as anything but a splutter, her attempt to calm herself seeming to be completely ineffective in the face of the older skeleton's easy flirtations.

Damn it...

"Well. Well, um... what are you getting yourself into this afternoon, Saejun? Since you already knocked inventory out," she recovered as quickly as she was able (and as awkwardly... stars, she was really out of it today), falling into step between the two monsters as they began the journey back out to the fields together, and though he clearly noticed her stumbling, a sly twist pulling at his smile, Saejun seemed to take pity on her and didn't comment on it, tapping the tool in his grasp against his clavicle indicatively.

"seein' to the melon patches. weeds are settin' in with a vengeance, need t'make sure they don't get t'the pumpkin sprouts. got my socket set on a couple prizes, come the county fair," he revealed, a note of confidence and pride ringing in his baritone voice, and Sans, with a quiet chuckle, sent him a sideways glance, thumbs hooking into his belt loops as he walked.

"not happy 'til you win them all, hmm," he observed laughingly, raising the brow over his blank socket (a fair comment, considering just how many ribbons and prizes Saejun won each year), and the older monster let out an indignant and completely falsified huff, his free hand propping on one of his hip bones and an affected scowl taking over his smile.

"i take very humble offense, son. most will do jus' fine~" he grumped playfully, more than well aware of his skill in his craft, and they all chortled at that, turning onto the main road through the farm and towards where the barn lay, just a little ways beyond the pasture. The sun was really starting to beat down, as the afternoon carried on, promising a warmer night than they had had thus far that year, and Frisk raised a hand to shade her eyes from its rays, the persistent and thankfully cool breeze ruffling the collar of her shirt and the too short curls at the nape of her neck playfully.

A pang of sadness pulled at her heart, as she watched the barn, and the workshop where she would, with some luck, be fixing that damnable tractor, draw nearer with every step, spelling the end to her time with her boys (could she call them hers? It was a selfish thing to do, they belonged to no one, least of all her...) far too soon. Sure, she could see them anytime, and likely would spend a little too long in the evening taking advantage of their hospitality before she made her way home...

But she clung to her time with them desperately, she always had. Today had been particularly special, despite the ups and downs of her own emotions... and she wasn't ready for that to end.

"Mister McCreedy won't be pleased you're moving in on pumpkin territory. I can see the steam coming out of his ears from here," she murmured in an honest attempt at pressing past her sadness, squinting her eyes under her raised hand as though spotting something off in the distance, and Saejun let out a snort of laughter at her antics, rolling the flecks of light in his sockets at her assertion, correct as it was.

"greg knows where t'find me if he's got words... but we all know he ain't got the sack t'square up with me," he dismissed with a scoff, waving a gloved hand through the air to dismiss the notion that the lanky old human intimidated him in any way, and Sans snickered to himself meanly, a self-satisfied and wry smirk crooking the corner of his mouth.

"heh... not since he mistook me for a scarecrow and nearly pissed himself," he recalled with a husky chortle, his wide shoulders shaking in his hilarity, and Saejun guffawed loudly enough to make the sheep in the pasture bleat in complaint, slapping a gloved palm against his femur and exchanging a wicked, amused grin with the larger monster.

"ha! 'nearly' ain't the word for the puddles he left behind."

Frisk could only shake her head and click her tongue at their antics as their pace slowed, the shadow the approaching barn cast falling over them, the road, and a little outcropping of the pasture fencing stealing away the warmth of the sun and bathing them in coolness for a moment. She leaned against one of the fence posts as casually as she was capable, hopeful of being able to stretch out their lingering company for just a little longer and manage to look nonchalant about it... and in a moment of mercy from the stars themselves, it seemed as though the both of them were of the same mind, Sans leaning against the fence beside her and Saejun, with a sigh, his hoe lowered and set against the fence as well, and his arms stretched out over his head to pop his spine, coming to a halt in a little patch of clover beside the dusty road.

Her heart leaped in her chest, touched by their obvious want to linger as well, and stuffed her hands in her pockets hurriedly to keep from doing something stupid and girlish, like playing with her hair and potentially ruining it.

Come on, Frisk, for once be cool...

"You two are absolute terrors," she reprimanded as admonishingly as she was able to, with how pleased and jittery she was suddenly feeling (she honestly felt like she was getting a sugar high, completely worked up from the day's excitement), and Saejun didn't even pretend to look abashed, preening and pretending to buff his gloved phalanges on his shirt while Sans, chuckles finally dying down, reached out an elbow to bump her shoulder gently.

"you love it. you cackled like a hyena," he reminded her with a crooked grin, his blown out iris hooded with knowing surety, and Frisk reached out to bump him back (as well as she could, at least; he didn't even budge), giving him a far too telling smile in return.

"Never said I didn't," she assured him, the want to tell him just how much she loved it, and everything about the both of them, surging in her blood and turning her to near lunacy. She couldn't do that, not when she was still so unsure of herself and just how much they cared for her in return (she knew something was there, something she'd never felt before and just couldn't put out of her mind... but just what that something was was unknown to her), yet as her heart sped in her chest and her want to do something in return for their generosity rose and her hands clenched in her pockets... her fingers closed around a little bundle of material in one of them, her mind blanking as to what it was for a moment before recalling with sudden and blinding clarity.

Her ribbon. The one she'd worn every day for over five years on a hopeful whim... a symbol, at least to her, of devotion and adoration.

It was a poor gift, especially in comparison to the one she'd been given... and she couldn't even give it to them both. Her thanks would simply have to bridge the gap in between, because there was no doubt in her mind which monster she was going to give it to (she'd find something to give to Sans too, she would), and with her resolution set in her mind, Frisk pulled the ribbon from her pocket, jaw set and hands trembling slightly, to snatch up the hoe leaned against the fence beside her, quickly looping the faded material around the smooth wooden handle. Saejun watched her do so with wide sockets, laughter dying on his tongue and bony brows raised so high they disappeared beneath the brim of his hat, and exchanged a stunned look with Sans before stepping closer, watching her attempt to tie a neat bow raptly.

"what's this then?" he queried softly after a moment, his sockets flicking between the slightly lopsided ribbon now tied around his gardening hoe and her set, determined expression, and Frisk, disappointed by her inability to make the tie neater but resolute to not back down from it, glanced up to meet his gaze, nodding firmly and smiling brightly.

"A little bit of that love, for your pumpkins~ Not that you need the help, you're a magician when it comes to your work, but still," she informed him with a finality and a boldness that surprised even her, turning the tool this way and that to inspect it before holding it out to him, and Saejun stared at her incomprehensibly for a moment so long her confidence began to wilt, his expression deep and intense enough to make her quail in her boots.

But then he blinked, his searching look melting into not just a touched smile, but a flush of green magic spread across his cheekbones as well, his gloved hand extending to take the hoe from her gently.

"well now... little bit of love goes a long way for a monster, darlin'. won't say no to it," he replied tenderly, the strand of wheat between his teeth bobbing in the breeze and the flecks of light in his sockets incredibly sincere (her heart throbbed, pumping a chemical high into her brain and sending her soaring), and with her trend of insanity that day, a thought, a crazy, flighty thought, leaped from her fogged mind and into reality before she had the ability to stop it. A day far too full of attention and affection and indulgence of her pining heart had finally proved too much for both her control and her long withheld want to finally do something about it, and so firmed her hold on the handle of the gardening hoe instead of releasing it into Saejun's custody, swallowing back her nervous giddiness and girding her quailing heart in steel.

They could deny her later, put her in her place as she likely deserved. She couldn't just keep pretending there was nothing here, she just couldn't, and so let the older monster's attempt to take the tool from her instead pull her closer to him, taking advantage of their closer proximity, and his dawning surprise at finding her there, to lean beneath the brim of his hat and press a kiss to his cheekbone.

"Then here's just a little more, for some extra mileage," she murmured there, only just resisting the urge she had to raise her hand to cup his jaw as well. She lingered long enough to ensure he was certain that it wasn't an accident before stepping back, letting go of the hoe and shyly raising her eyes to meet his wide, stunned gaze, his grasp on the handle so loose it nearly fell to the ground at his side.

She smiled at him as sunnily as she was able, shaking in her boots as she was at her sheer boldness (at the very least, she knew she'd had an effect on him; he was deeply and obviously blushing, his entire face flushed with his magic and his jaw hanging open slightly), before turning on her heel and beckoning to the tall, slightly morose looking monster leaned against the fence at her side, her bravery waning quickly enough to hurry her attempt at showing her hand.

"Y-you too, Sans. Get down here," she stammered, flushing as her voice cracked and showed her nervousness, and for a moment so tense she started to sweat, she thought he wasn't going to move, his overlarge iris pinning her like a bug on a mat and his mouth a flat line of consideration... but then he pushed away from the fence, rising to his full height, and bent at the waist to bring his large, cracked skull nearly level with her, never shifting that intense, glowing gaze away from her as he did. She had to stand on her tip toes to kiss his cheekbone, her hands rising from her sides to rest on his broad shoulders as she did, and when she sank back to her feet, her hands lingered where they rested, rubbing the material of his flannel shirt over the thick expanse of his clavicles.

"...I'm not afraid of you. I know better than that, and who you are," she whispered as she looked up into his pulsing eye light softly, their interactions that day wheeling through her head and making her voice a glaring truth that he, more than likely, feared for the existence of (oh Sans... even when he'd treated her less than cordially, she'd never really feared him...), and his blood red iris, flickering in its wide socket, constricted with an emotion she couldn't put a name to, the wash of his breath halting completely and his cheekbones coloring. His jaw flexed, the same as his mouth firmed, as though to keep unthinking words from spilling free, and as she slowly pulled her hands back into her own custody, stepping away from the radiating heat of his body, she could have sworn she saw his hands twitch, as though to reach out and snatch them back.

Wishful thinking, she was sure, and she no longer had the mind to consider it. Her courage had gone completely, leaving her a shivering, nearly teary mess, and she was fully prepared to flee to the ends of the earth and hide for the rest of eternity, hugging her arms around her midriff and walking quickly between the both of them, in the vague direction of the shed and the tractor that awaited her attention. She'd taken about six steps before realizing that it was kind of rude to just rush off without another word, though, nearly stumbling over her feet in her awkward discernment, and tripped to a halt, the dust of her escape rising around her feet as she looked over her shoulder to where they still stood, looking after her with the same starstruck expressions as she had left them with.

She couldn't meet those looks, unable to look her work in the face, and dropped her chin to gaze instead at the toes of their shoes, at Saejun's bright red gardening galoshes and Sans' mud crusted, steel toed boots.

"You've both been so kind to me today. I won't forget that. ...thank you," she muttered into the breath of the breeze, hopeful that her gratitude didn't appear as rushed as she thought that it did, and went hurriedly on her way the moment she'd spoken it, hiding her blushing face in her hands and fearing what was to come of her first tentative steps towards what she hoped for even as, in her chest, what she was certain was her soul soared, alight on wings of fulfillment and levity and the remembrance of how they had looked at her, and how right it had felt.

Maybe... just maybe... it would be alright.

---

The same breeze that carried Frisk's whispered words of thanks swept through the young grasses and budding flowers at the edge of the pasture, tugging playfully at Sans' shirt collar and Saejun's slack and now overchewed wheat strand... rustled the messy but lovingly tied ribbon in the older monster's grasp curiously, as though in wonderment of its presence and meaning.

The monsters found themselves incapable of reaction to that breeze, though, both apparently stunned speechless by the quickly retreating woman ducking into the maintenance shed down the dusty road, and only managed to shake themselves from such stupor when she had fully hidden herself within (which was just what she was doing at that moment, crouched behind the hoisted tractor and breathing anxiously into her hands), letting out a heavy and strained breath almost as one.

Sans collapsed back against fence he had been leaned casually on only a moment before as though the strength had been leeched from his bones (the wood creaked in protest, reminding him of his size and weight with their outcry), lifting a massive hand to touch his still flushed cheekbone, obviously still feeling the kiss that had been placed there so gently. His gaze was faraway and as dreamy as a face so fearsome as his could manage, his smile far softer than it was used to being.

"...holy shit," he murmured in obvious wonder, pulling his hand back to gaze at his hand hazily, rubbing his fingertips together as though he had somehow captured the feeling of Frisk's lips there, and Saejun, pulling the brim of his hat low over his completely flushed face, hummed in agreement, making much the same motion Sans had only a moment before and running the tips of his gloved phalanges over his cheekbone.

"that's puttin' it mildly," he sighed wistfully, at last managing to break his gaze away from the shed that hid Frisk from his sight (stars help him, the things she did to him...), and seemed to only then recall the gardening tool in his loose grasp, and the faded ribbon now attached to it, firming his grip on its handle and raising it higher for his inspection. His expression bordered on reverence, as he lifted his free hand to trace the clumsy bow's form, his smile crooked and holding a longing to it that was almost painful to look on.

Drawn from his own thoughts by the motion, Sans watched the older skeleton in silence for a moment, a flicker of jealousy flashing across his face before it was dismissed completely, along with a nod of his cracked skull, aimed at the impromptu and very surprising gift. Shouldn't have been that surprising, honestly, considering what they'd given her and what they knew of her character...

The larger monster only barely withheld a chuckle, fond and adoring, his iris rolling in its socket to look back at the shed. Never one to let a debt go unpaid, that one, even and most especially when there was no debt to speak of. Trying to treat that woman was a chore and a half.

Shame he liked doing it so much.

"that what i think it is?" he queried, both of their suspicions heavy in his meaningful and pointed tone, in the glow of his weighted gaze, and Saejun, shifting his jaw as he struggled with an emotion he obviously wasn't prepared to give voice to, merely nodded mutely, seemingly incapable of breaking his gaze away from it. Gently, so gently it took several tugs, he pulled one of the bow's tails until the ribbon unfolded completely, unwinding it from the hoe's handle to gather it into his gloved palm.

It caught the light of the sun there, its rich, if faded, material seeming almost to gleam against the worn leather of his glove. Such a simple thing, something one would expect to find in the hair of an antique doll, or discarded in a gutter... yet both monsters regarded it with an almost worshipful awe.

"her ribbon. she was wearin' it first time we met... an' almost every day since," he finally said, after a long and drawn out silence (he wanted nothing more that to feel it against his bones, feel the affection she had poured into it without even knowing sinking into his magic and touching his soul-), and Sans grunted to himself in acknowledgment, nodding and doing a quick bit of head math.

"five years, hasn't it been?"

"five years, two months, an' fourteen days. ...t'be exact."

Heh... leave it to Saejun remember that. Sans couldn't really blame him... he still remembered the first time he'd met her too, though it was beyond the scope of his ability to keep track of the precise number of days. ...he'd nearly killed her right where she stood, wide eyed and too pretty for a traitor to be allowed to be and blissfully unaware of his utter and complete loathing for her.

He flinched, pushing the memory, and the years of anger and resentment that both preceded and followed it, back, focusing instead on the present, on forgiveness and understanding and affection. On the sound of her laughter when he made a stupid pun, on the feeling of her kiss lingering on his cheekbone and her hair sliding through his fingers, on the scent of her still redolent on the wafting breeze, jasmine perfume and motor oil and iced tea.

His soul, twisted thing that it was, warmed in his chest, his reactively tight smile easing. His gaze flicked from the ribbon in Saejun's palm to his face, taking in the want that lay thick on the older monster's brow.

"that's long enough to make it a mark... but it's a common item. does it count?" he rumbled curiously, watching the wind ruffle the material almost indicatively, beckoning for it to be claimed, and Saejun nodded gruffly, obviously working to push the wash of emotion and longing down and away. The longer he held the ribbon, though, the more it persisted... he should put it away, or at the very least pocket it, so he could attempt to do the work he'd set for himself that afternoon and not spend it mooning over an impossibility.

And yet he couldn't seem to move his hand any more that it took to keep the breeze from stealing the ribbon from his palm, more than to take one of the ends between his fingers and rub the silky material there. How many times had he admired it, crowing to himself silently that she continued wearing it because of his comment on it... how many times had he imagined pulling it from her hair and setting her locks free, running his hands through her curly tresses and kissing those sun warmed lips and-

"the intent was there. y'can feel it just from lookin' at it. she don't realize it, though, guarantee it," he interjected quickly, cutting off his own thoughts hurriedly (he knew better than to go down that road, he knew better-), and Sans let out a knowing huff, nodding and sending another fond glance towards the shed, the sounds of an impact wrench carrying from it.

"doesn't know a whole lot about monsters... especially just how devastating she can be and not even realize it," he observed with a warm chuckle, shaking his skull at the memories of just how oblivious she truly was (how many times had he considered ravaging her in a haystack after yet another far too poignant, and likely accidental, flirtation? He honestly couldn't say), and the older monster couldn't help but agree, turning his own gaze to the shed with a wry and adoring smirk playing about his mouth.

"she's a rare 'n beautiful woman, an' no mistake. ...enough t'make a monster forget his sensibilities," he muttered humorously, unconsciously winding the ribbon in his grasp around his fingers idly, and Sans turned his startlingly large iris from the shed and to the motion, watching it thoughtfully before speaking.

"you gonna accept it?"

Saejun was just as silent, his smile draining from his face like water through a siphon, his gaze falling to the ribbon wound between his fingers in a loving embrace. His soul ached in his chest, he could feel its desperation for reciprocation and completion...

But he knew what the answer had to be, no matter his want for otherwise.

"no," he said shortly, forcing his rebellious soul into stillness and untangling the ribbon from his fingers stubbornly (if he didn't know better, he'd have thought it was clinging to him, it made itself so difficult to remove), pointedly ignoring the narrow of Sans' sockets and the disapproving weight of his gaze as he did so.

"...saejun," the larger skeleton reproved, the conversation they had put off having over and over again heavy in his deep voice, but Saejun was neither prepared to discuss it nor willing to consider it, too emotional from all his slip-ups that day (he'd nearly kissed her in the kitchen, all but backed her into a corner just to take in more of her perfect scent and feel her pressed against him-) and too lost to being presented with something he truly wanted but simply couldn't have.

"won't hurt her none, since she don't know what it is. for her, 's just a ribbon she wore," he denied obstinately, firming his jaw and finally succeeding in picking the twining length of the ribbon free, and Sans' disapproval firmed further, a flicker of ire brightening his scarlet iris.

"it was never just a ribbon and you know it. don't demean her feelings," he all but growled, instinctual protectiveness rearing at the very thought, and Saejun was stunned out of his tumultuous thoughts by the accusation, snapping his gaze up to meet the intense stare of his companion. He... he supposed it did sound like that, but that's not how he'd meant it, he'd never belittle how strongly she felt.

How could he? It was all that kept him going some days.

"i ain't. i'm jus' sayin'- you should take it. she feels for you, an'-" he began to excuse hurriedly, faltering a moment in reluctance before holding the now balled up ribbon out to the larger monster, and to Sans' credit, despite the sudden and consuming yearning that shot through his bones, he didn't move an inch. Didn't even look down at it, keeping his gaze firmly locked with Saejun's.

"i'm not touching it. she gave it to you, not me," he spat plainly, his heavy brows lowering over his glower significantly, and Saejun, a heavy but acquiescent sigh escaping him, dropped his hand to his side, turning his gaze away and to the pasture the pair stood beside. The world went on, outside their little circle of contention... cars drove by on their way too and from town, the crops grew just a little taller, the sheep and cattle cropped the grass a little shorter.

And yet, for him, nothing existed in this moment beyond the little scrap of satin curled in his palm... nothing beyond what it could mean, and his selfish pleasure in the fact that Sans hadn't taken it from him.

He really was a miserable, self-serving creature, in the end.

"...i can't accept it, sans. y'know i can't. it... it should've been you," he admitted quietly, acknowledging the truth of his own words and yet doing nothing to rid himself of the temptation of it (he couldn't give it away, and he wouldn't be able to give it back to Frisk without hurting her feelings... he couldn't throw it away, he didn't think he would be able to bear that, but he couldn't keep it either-), and Sans, momentary anger fleeing his expression slowly, watched the older monster struggle internally for a moment before sighing tremendously, raising a hand to rub at the back of his neck.

"...this had gone on long enough. we've gotta talk about this,"he insisted, jerking his head towards the shed they were both fixated on as indication of exactly what the subject matter of 'this' was (wasn't it always about her, though? Never a problem, but always a vexation), but Saejun merely shrugged one broad shoulder up and down morosely, still incapable of putting the ribbon aside, intoxicated by its very existence, by the possibilities it presented, even as he denied them.

He was winding it around his fingers again, without even knowing it. It was already a balm to him, settling the worst of his self-loathing for not being able to be better than this, healing the breaks he was making in his own heart.

Damnit...

"don't see why. y'know where i stand... fumblin' notwithstandin'," he dismissed as blithely as he was capable of, forcefully halting the motion of his hand as though it could possibly erase his all too obvious pining from the other monster's mind, and Sans let out a deep and weary sigh, shaking his skull and quirking his mouth to one side.

"it doesn't sit right with me. i know you have your reasons, but i'm the intruder here. this is your world... she's meant to be your mate. you have rights to her," he pressed, giving voice to an insecurity that had been on his mind ever since Saejun had told him he was welcome to pursue her (it hadn't stopped him, of course, especially not today... he'd been so close to kissing her, had been utterly intoxicated by the heat of her blush and the scent of her excitement rushing in her blood-), and the skeleton monster opposite him, finally managing to stuff the confounded ribbon into one of his coverall pockets (gently, lovingly almost, he didn't want to damage it...), shook his head resolutely, leaning on his gardening hoe for balance.

"ain't got no right t'all. she's her own woman, always will be."

"you know what i mean."

"an' you know i never intended nothin' towards her!"

The exclamation, harder and more firm that Saejun's voice had been in quite some time, hung in the afternoon air, finally stilling the playful breeze as it rustled through the leaves of the budding trees. His gaze was locked with Sans' now, motionless and meaningful... but softened after only another second had passed, his stiff shoulders drooping the same as the strand of wheat between his teeth did.

"...even if i could find my way past my reservations, i still couldn't justify it. 'm an old monster, sans. too old t'be a good husband, a good mate... give her the children she wants. my heats've gone, thirty years now... ain't possible anymore, an' she deserves a partner that can fulfill her, give her what she wants from life. ...want or not," he lamented quietly, all too aware of the age weighing on his bones and the limitations of them, the things he could and couldn't do as the stars spun him beyond the scope of companionship yet again (not the time... not the time), but Sans appeared unimpressed by the claim, his massive arms folding across his broad chest and his jaw firming.

"you're not that old. how do you know your season won't come back after you've bonded?" he queried pointedly, crossing one boot over the other as he leaned back against the fence (it creaked again, enough to worry a curious sheep away), and a flash of annoyance crept across Saejun's pensive expression, his brow lowering seriously.

"'m plenty old enough, an' enough t'know myself and the needs of a young woman that wants a family. i couldn't look her in the eye, denyin' her what she wants jus' to satisfy myself, on th' off chance it could happen," he lectured, exasperated by his companion's seeming inability to grasp why he couldn't have what he really wanted, and Sans fell silent for a time, besides a sarcastic snort released through his nasal cavity, his head turning to look out over the fields as he thought something over.

His booted toe tapped, a loose bootstring swaying through the grasses at his feet... before he spoke again, his deep voice sonorous and thoughtful.

"then we take the middle ground."

Saejun's brows beetled, confusion showing clearly on his face.

"meanin'?" he queried leadingly, when Sans made no move to continue on the thought (he had no idea what he could mean by it. Middle ground...?), and the damaged skeleton turned his massive scarlet iris to the smaller monster before him, considering his words carefully before speaking them.

"i'm not interested in competition or posturing, not against you. she's worth fighting for, but she wouldn't stand for anger between us, and i don't want it in the first place. so, we compromise," he offered, flicking his head to dismiss a fly hopeful of finding a perch on his neck, and Saejun stilled, blinking and, if his inkling was correct, beginning to catch on.

It was a hell of a thing to even hope for, though... not something he'd been willing to believe possible even in his wildest daydreams. It could easily be something else.

"...go on," he invited, tilting his skull as he awaited a more in depth explanation, and Sans nodded, speaking just as carefully as he had been before. He'd put a lot of thought into the subject, after all, and wanted to be able to get the idea across clearly.

"i've thought on it, and i don't see why we couldn't attempt a pack bond. as far as i know, it's never been done between our kind, and it'd take effort, but i think we could make it work," he explained as best he could, more than aware of the strangeness of the suggestion (pack bonds were complicated things, usually only accomplished between lesser monsters like the Temmies, and involved a complex order of operations that kept each soul involved from being well treated), and though he had suspected it was coming, Saejun could only stare, working his jaw as he attempted to scrape together an answer other than the one that had sprung to the tip of his tongue instinctively.

It couldn't possibly be this easy. Nothing in his life ever had been.

"...y'wanna share her?" he questioned in disbelief, unwilling to accept that, despite their close relationship, the big monster would consider something so wild as polyamory (it wasn't just uncommon among their species, it was unheard of; monsters of their caliber never shared, the competition and instincts that drove them were simply too powerful), but Sans seemed completely undeterred by the surprise in his tone, shrugging one shoulder and appearing completely content with the possibility.

"yep. if it's you, i don't mind it. you've been like a brother to me, since being sent here by that damn machine. you saved my life, gave me purpose. helped me find closure... helped me overcome my bitterness and anger. wouldn't have gotten a chance with her at all without your patience and guidance," he explained matter-of-factly, his expression both frank and grateful (how many late nights had Saejun stayed up with him, reminding him that this Frisk was blameless, this Frisk had only ever been good and right... that she didn't deserve his hatred? How many of his manic rages had he calmed, talking him down like a maddened horse? Too many to count), and though Saejun's expression creased with like fondness, his mouth opening to, likely, dismiss his all too true words, Sans carried on, unwilling to stop while he was already on a roll.

He felt almost giddy, finally saying what he had so long considered... a possible solution for the seemingly impossible situation the older monster had backed himself into. Stubborn old fool...

"we can give her what she wants together. if your heats don't return, i can provide her with the children she wants, and you can still be with her, without the guilt. plus, if i can tell anything from what happened just now, it's what she wants. both of us," he encouraged, his smile popping back into place like a switch being flicked (he could still feel her lips lingering on his bones, hear the words he had so long needed to hear from her, feel the weight of her hands on his shoulders-), and Saejun, for a heady, insane moment, almost let himself believe it was possible. That he could leave his fears behind, that he could share a bond with the monster before him and the woman he was head over heels for, and give her everything she wanted and more...

And then, the moment was gone, blown to tatters on the same wind that once again picked up and plucked at the brim of his hat. His hope sank back to where it dwelt in miserable defeat, hidden deep within the recesses of his long ago broken heart, and he let out a wry and dismissive chuckle, shaking his head.

"mind reader now, are you?" he joked lamely, leaning just a little too hard on the hoe and feeling its head bend under his weight, and Sans' fond smile vanished, replaced by an indignant glower. He pushed himself away from the fence behind him, standing to his full height, and pointed an accusatory finger at the unintimidated monster before him.

"don't play dumb with me, old man. you felt it same as i did," he growled, his patience with Saejun's mulish obstinance over this subject wearing dangerously thin, and the older monster sighed heavily, shrugging one shoulder and, wearily, turning his gaze again to the shed, to the sound of Frisk's labor and a short but poignant curse she let out. He couldn't help but smile, sad and tired as it was, mind on the ribbon in his pocket and the press of her lips to his cheekbone.

It was the most he would ever get... he needed to be content with that, at long last.

"a desperate mind sees what it wants, sans. 's a pipe dream, and one i won't put stock in," he dismissed, pushing himself up and, ready to put this occasion behind him (as well as he could, at least... he was going to be plagued with his want for the possibility of having her, and by the feel of her so close, for a long time after this), slinging his gardening hoe back up onto his shoulder, but Sans wasn't so ready to let it go, stepping into his path to halt him.

"it's pretty clear to me," he insisted through his grimace, his single eyelight pulsing dangerously in its socket, and Saejun tilted his skull back to meet that gaze unflinchingly, his own anger beginning to rise. Why couldn't he just leave it be? He knew why he couldn't do this, couldn't allow himself to believe there was hope.

"yeah? and how's that," he said shortly, bony brows lowered over narrowed sockets, but if Sans saw the warning in his expression, he ignored it, set on his path.

"she's our soulmate. it's obvious she feels the pull, and has been for years. her soul is calling to us both, i've felt it and so have you, and you know perfectly well how attracted she is, you see it every day. if you could find your spine and ask her what she wants rather than assuming you know what's best, i'm sure she'd tell you the same," he all but snarled, jerking his head towards the shed in the background, and with Sans' assertion that he was a coward (he was just trying to right by her the easiest way possible, why couldn't he understand-), Saejun finally snapped, taking a warning step forward and baring his teeth in a livid growl.

"you're pushin' it, boy. i've been patient with y'buttin' in my business, but now's the time t'leave it be," he barked commandingly, a flicker of venomous green magic sparking in his sockets as his rare temper ignited (the livestock in the pasture began to panic, the wind picking up and the sun seeming just a little dimmer), before the fight drained from him entirely, his magic settling and his hunched shoulders loosening.

He turned his sockets away from the slightly cowed monster before him, shame for his behavior and his wants and his inability to do just as Sans had said weighing him down. His grip on the handle of his hoe tightened, his gloves straining from the strength of his grasp.

"...it don't matter none anyhow. as y'say, i got my reasons, an' i stand by 'em. i never had no designs on her, and i don't ever intend to," he murmured, pushing past where Sans stood in clear indication that he was done with this conversation, and the larger monster didn't chase after him, stewing in his lessening temper... but he did call out after him, turning his skull to watch Saejun walking purposefully away.

"if that ribbon is any indication, she thinks you do. will is still not hurt her to break her heart?" he asked cattily, his blown out iris narrowed angrily, and Saejun stopped in his tracks for a moment, his head hanging low and the brim of his hat shading his face entirely. The breeze swept around him, pulling playfully at the very end of the ribbon extending from his pocket and only reminding him more of her... before he straightened, carrying on without even looking back.

"...i got work to do, an' so d'you. hop to it."

Sans watched him go, disappearing around the edge of the barn without a backwards glance, with disapproval (and no small amount of disappointment) showing clearly on his face, before letting out a snort, shaking his head, tsking, and doing as he as bidden, heading off to return to his own work.

The persistent breeze followed them all on their way, carrying with it their secrets and their desires, whispering it to any so willing to listen.

---

End of Act 1