[[ This is the longest chapter I've written to date for this fic. It took me longer than I wanted, but I'm happy with how it turned out.
NSFW, sexual content at the end of this chapter! 18+ only! If you're too young then just read to the (*SINNAMON ROLL*) and you'll be good. Or just don't read this fic. Cus, y'know, it's rated M. Yeah.
Hope you all enjoy it! ]]
Papyrus hated conflict. Despite having at one point wanted to join the Royal Guard, he wasn't too terribly fond of altercations of any sort. Fighting just wasn't his style, wasn't the way he worked. Why fight when you can just talk things over in a calm and level manner? It was much more efficient (not to mention intelligent) to go about things that way and, in most cases, lead to far fewer misunderstandings. Sure, he still had difficulty grasping things from time to time, but so did any other person! Despite how many people seemed to view him, Papyrus was incredibly intelligent. Perhaps not in the way of 'book smarts', but he had an incredibly sharp sense of intuition, and he was insightful. He was able to perceive what someone's next fifty moves would be after only seeing two or three. But he was seen as naive and childish, having so much hope and trying to see the best in people. Even his brother often times treated him as though he were better off 'not knowing' things.
He tried to remind himself, though, that it wasn't just him that Sans did that to. No, Sans was stubborn, and, through whatever experiences that still weighed heavily on his soul, he'd taken on the belief that it was better for him to endure on his own. Even though his brother thought that he was doing well to hide his struggles, Papyrus could see it. He had always been able to see it, but he played the fool, letting Sans believe that he was none the wiser. In return, Papyrus had learned how to support and comfort Sans in ways that weren't quite so direct. Being his usual happy, hopeful self seemed to do the trick, more often than not.
But that, he realized, would not work this time.
It took him several moments to realize that his eyesockets had begun to emit a soft orange glow, a comforting measure that seemed to be more instinct than a conscious action. The cause of this was an argument, a very serious one, at that, taking place between his brother and human friend. Worry made his soul shiver beneath his ribs, but he pushed it aside, instead insisting on healing his brother's wounds. The cracks that spider-webbed their way across the shorter skeleton's jaw weren't as bad as they appeared, mostly superficial, but they still held the risk of deepening. It was his arm that had taken the worst of the damage, his radius holding a deep fissure that nearly cracked it in two. There was iridescent blue marrow seeping from the wound, dripping through the tear in his sleeve, staining the navy blue fabric. He could tell that something bad had happened; that much was painfully obvious. However, true to form, his brother stayed quiet, refusing to talk, and Papyrus...was so used to it that he merely shrugged it off. Healing him was more important right in that moment, and there would be opportunity to grill him for answers later, when his HP wasn't dipping below the 0.75 range.
So it was with a sense of understanding as he watched the human try and delve into the reasoning for why Sans was late, why he returned home with injuries. Many times he himself had tried to do the same, but he had learned that pushing only made the door close more tightly. Lena was normally so quiet, not ever raising her voice or speaking out like this, and Papyrus had hoped that she would give up on her own, give Sans the time to cope in his own way...but she was DETERMINED.
"It's got nothin' to fuckin' do with you!" Papyrus' eyesockets widened in shock as his brother's deep voice raised, gravelly and rough with emotion, and he reached his hands out uselessly, wanting to do something, but not knowing what. He couldn't even think of anything to say, not wanting to get between the two of them. The human flinched slightly, but she pressed onward, and the room suddenly felt like the air was pressurized, ready to burst at the first possible opening.
"How does it have nothing to do with me?!" she asked, voice rising to something nearly shrill. "Someone I love is hurt, I want to help!"
"Yeah, well, you can't!" Sans ripped his arm out of the human's grasp, his bony hands clenching into fists so tightly that the sound of bone grinding together filled the air. "You have no place in this and you proddin' at me is just pissin' me off! Butt out!" Papyrus felt his soul squeeze within him, his eyesockets widening as he glanced from his frustrated brother to the human, who had fallen silent. Tears were beginning to gather at the corners of her eyes, and he could see her frame tense where she stood. "'m goin' to Grillby's." The door slammed shut, breaking Papyrus from his reverie, and he stormed to the door and tore it open, calling out for his brother, only to see him blip out of sight.
He hissed a sigh through his teeth, turning back to the living room just in time for the human's bedroom door to slam shut, as well. He felt pulled in two directions, and he wasn't sure which way he was supposed to go. Sans needed time to calm down, he knew that, for certain. He carefully closed the door and stood helplessly in the middle of the living room for a moment, staring at the floor and trying to think of what to do. 'Surely...taking care of my brother's human in his absence is the best brotherly thing I can do.' With this thought in mind he quietly walked to Lena's door, foregoing knocking and instead turning the knob as silently as he could, pulling the door open to peer inside. There was a mass underneath the blankets, quivering, and Papyrus felt his soul tighten painfully. The room gently lit by the glow of his eyesockets, he closed the door behind him quietly and and padded across the room, hesitating only for a moment before sitting on the edge of her bed. The mattress dipped beneath his weight and he felt her flinch. "It is me," he reassured, his voice soft, and he wasn't sure if she was reassured or disappointed in the sigh that she gave.
When she made no move to remove herself from the covers he moved to lay on his side, draping his arm over her and pulling her close to his ribcage. Almost instantly the trembling worsened, and he heard her choke on a sob, muffled whimpers and cries escaping the bundle of blankets. The glow of his sockets brightened, bathing the room in an orange light. "My brother is the biggest of boneheads. He is...under the impression that he has to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders." The bundle in his arms sniffled and he sighed, leaning to rest his skull against what he assumed to be her head. "I know that all too well, and he is...stubborn. It is not you, Lena." Slowly, she moved and uncovered her head with the blankets, and Papyrus could see that her cheeks were red, wet with tears. He smiled sadly and raised a hand to swipe at her cheekbone with his gloved thumb, wiping away the tears. "I mean that, truly and sincerely. It is not you. It isn't that he doesn't trust you. He just...wants to keep us safe and happy, despite how unhappy it makes us that he chooses to suffer alone." The human nodded slightly, still crying, but she looked far less tormented. No doubt she probably felt like Papyrus himself had, that his brother didn't trust him or believe in him.
"I was just w-worried about him..." she mumbled, her voice watery, and he gave a small hum in agreement. "I... I shouldn't have yelled at him..."
"No, you were in the right. Though I hate arguing, you meant well...just as Sans means well." He ran his fingers through her hair, smiling as she settled down against him, her breathing settling. "I still do not know exactly what my brother has gone through, but it has led to him having difficulty in communicating to others. He handles things...differently than most. It is not the most healthy way, but he has improved greatly since we left the Underground. But, of course, Sans does not talk about these things..." he mumbled, resting his chin against the top of her head. "There was no way you could have known." She gave a tentative nod and murmured a quiet 'thank you', and Papyrus leaned forward to gently knock his teeth against her forehead. "Mwah!" A small, tired giggle rewarded him for his efforts and he sat up, patting her on the head affectionately. "Perhaps you should go and talk to Her Majesty. She is my brother's closest friend, aside from yours truly! Perhaps she could help you understand how to talk to him...?" Her lips pulled down into a small frown, but she nodded, and his face immediately brightened. "EXCELLENT! I SHALL CALL HER MAJESTY FORTHWITH!"
The growls and 'murr's of several floating skulls gave little comfort; to be honest, he could hardly hear them at all past the angry buzzing of magic in his bones. He didn't linger, though. Instead, he fell through the emptiness until he landed on the sidewalk just outside of the familiar brick building. It filled him with a small bit of nostalgia. It had been built as an exact replica of the building in Snowdin, though the neon sign lighting up the front said "Grillby's II." Even from outside he could smell the familiar scents of burgers and fries, fried foods, and beer.
He intended to have a drink or four before he had to go home.
Pulling on his best smile he strode into the bar, immediately being greeted with a chorus of voices calling his name. Dogaressa caught his eye and, when he noticed her concerned expression, he gave her a wink and a wave, his way of saying 'don't worry about it.' He sidled up to the bar and hopped onto his usual stool, leaning against the bar with his arms folded. The door to the back room swung open and the warm glow of Grillby's flames filled the bar. Sans immediately relaxed a bit.
"Heya Grillbz. Order 'a fries and a whiskey." The flame elemental paused in his reach beneath the bar, the flames higher on his forehead raising slightly in his way of raising a brow, then nodded. He pulled out the bottle of ketchup he'd been in the process of grabbing and set it on the counter, turning around to fix Sans his drink. A short tumbler glass was filled with ice and he took great care as he poured the amber liquid over it, sliding the glass across the smooth wood counter and into Sans' awaiting hand. The skeleton raised the glass and gave his friend a tired grin, muttering a short 'thanks' before tipping it back and draining it completely. The alcohol created a pleasant burn, spreading warmth through his soul.
"So?" The soft whispering voice pulled Sans from enjoying the sensation, browbone raised in question. Grillby picked up a freshly washed glass and grabbed a cloth to begin drying it. "You don't usually just come in for a drink anymore..." The white spots of flame where the elemental's eyes were narrowed and he leaned forward slightly, setting the glass and rag down on the counter. "What happened?" he asked, gesturing toward Sans' jaw. The skeleton shook the glass, the ice clinking noisily against the side, and Grillby huffed a smokey sigh as he moved to refill it.
"Ta be honest Grillbz... I'm not sure what happened. I, uh, broke up a fight, and I kinda got caught in the crossfire..." The flame elemental's eyes narrowed further.
"I did hear about the altercation that took place. A human was found very nearly dead in the alleyway beside the Nice Cream parlor. ...You didn't...?" Sans frowned, the lights vanishing from his eyes.
"No, they did it themselves. I didn't attack 'em... 's why I got these," he mumbled, gesturing to the recently healed cracks in his bones. Grillby seemed to relax slightly at this, nodding. Sans took another long drink from his glass, already feeling the slightest bit of looseness that came from consuming alcohol. It always affected monsters differently, because of how their magic broke down the things they ate or drank. They felt the effects sooner, but it lasted a much shorter amount of time. "I went home after that...shit show...and I get yelled at. So I came here." He stared down into his glass, swishing the alcohol with the ice. After a moment he could feel eyes on him, and he glanced up to find Grillby staring at him, his arms crossed over his chest. "...What?"
"You got yelled at. By chance, what was the reason for being yelled at?" Frowning, Sans threw back his glass, emptying it again before setting it on the counter.
"They were askin' me about what happened."
"...And?"
"...And I didn't wanna tell 'em." A soft sizzling noise, like the sound of air hissing from a fire, escaped Grillby, and Sans stiffened slightly, eyesockets narrowing. "What?" The flame was looking at him, shaking his head slightly, and then the glass was suddenly slipped from Sans' hand, its contents dumped into the sink. "Hey, what the hell, Grillby?" The other didn't answer, so, frustrated, Sans grabbed the ketchup bottle and took a heavy swig from it. "So what, I'm gonna get a lecture now? I didn't come here to get nagged even more."
"I am not going to lecture. I am going to help you." The dim lights in Sans' sockets rolled as he rolled his eyes, and Grillby pressed on. "You may not like it, but as your friend, it's only right for me to tell you when you are being an ass." Then he leaned over slightly, so that his face was only six inches away from Sans'. "...You are being an ass."
"How am I bein' an ass?! I wasn't the one who decided to start yellin' at someone who nearly got dusted!" He threw his hands up, the ketchup bottle knocking over on the counter with a noisy 'clink'. A small amount of the red condiment escaped onto the smooth wood, and Grillby wasted no time in righting the bottle and grabbing a rag to wipe up the spill.
"And did she know that?" the flame asked smoothly, looking across the counter at Sans expectantly. When all he got was silence, he sighed. "It was very long ago, but I was once in a relationship." He picked up the glass he'd abandoned and continued wiping it dry, setting it in the rack behind him and picking up another. "It was many many years ago. I was a soldier in the war and she was a healer, a rare magical talent for flame elementals. We were quite the pair. She had to patch me up on many occasions..." A chuckle escaped the elemental monster, a low, smokey tone of laughter that was light, while also heavy with nostalgia. "I picked up many bad habits from being in war, and our relationship was strained on many occasions. Our biggest fight was over something small, really, but it was fueled by my unwillingness to talk to her... It is something that I wish I could take back now." Sans frowned, his eyelights flickering between his friend's face and the ketchup bottle, watching as the flames dimmed slightly.
"It's for her own good that she doesn't know, Grillbz... Her and Paps. I'm doin' em a favor-"
"No. You are trying to do everything and failing." Sans flinched, eyesockets widening as he felt anger well up in his soul, but before he could say anything against it, the other continued speaking. "You think that by carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders you can protect everyone and make them happy... But you keeping everything to yourself like this is only making them worry. You are not as good at hiding things as you seem to think." He reached a hand out and rested it over one of Sans', the sheer warmth enveloping the bones there, and Sans wanted to be mad at how comforting it was. "We've known you longer, and we know how to handle you...but your human has only been around for a few months. She can't possibly know everything she needs to, especially with how unwilling you are to share."
"...I told her ta drop it, but she just kept pushin' on," he argued weakly, hunching his shoulders so the fur of his hood hid the lower half of his face.
"And if you were in her position? If you were home waiting and she showed up late, badly injured?"
"They were just cracks-"
"If she came home hurt and unwilling to tell you anything, how she felt, what had happened... You're telling me that you would just drop it?" The sound of bone grinding as Sans grit his teeth, raising his hands to grip at his skull.
"But that's... It's different, because it's- ...ugh, fuck." He groaned, leaning forward to rest his skull against the cool counter top. "I hate when you're right." The flame chuckled and resumed cleaning glasses, looking over the skeleton from the corner of his eye. "I fuckin'... Stars, Grillbz. I yelled at her. Told her she had no place in it, to butt out." His fingertips scratched against his skull and he looked up, sockets drooping sadly. "I"m such an ass."
"Perhaps, but you always find a way to make up for it."
"What if- ...fuck, what if she hates me now?" His skull rushed with thoughts and his magic flared nervously within his bones just at the thought. "I'm...I gotta go." Sans hurriedly hopped down from his bar stool and turned to give Grillby a small grateful smile. "Thanks, Grillbz. I owe ya one."
"I'll put it on your tab." A genuine huff of laughter pulled from the skeleton as he nodded, giving a small salute before he opened a doorway beneath his feet, falling into darkness.
Lena couldn't help but wonder exactly what it was about the ex-Queen that made her feel so small, like a child. True, the monster's stature alone was enough, considering she was several heads taller, and her frame was much wider. However, something in the way she spoke, the aura she exuded, made her feel like she was safe, comforted, protected. The only word the human could find for it was 'motherly,' and even that didn't fully cover the effect she had on people.
She'd taken a few moments to herself after Papyrus left her room, getting up and splashing her face with cold water to try and lessen the obvious physical evidence that she'd been crying. Her eyes always got so puffy and red...she hated it. After she deemed herself to look 'presentable' enough, she'd made the short walk to Toriel's apartment. She'd barely knocked on the door when it swung open, and she was immediately encompassed in large, warm arms. Something about that hug brought her little walls down, and she'd sniffled meekly into the front of Toriel's deep violet robes. "There, there, my dear friend," she'd murmured gently, comfortingly, "Everything will be alright." Somehow, just with those words alone, Lena felt inclined to believe her.
They sat and talked for a long while, and, although not much was exchanged in the way of hard factual information about past events, Lena learned of the woman's experiences with learning to deal with Sans. "He can be a real bonehead at times! But he does mean the best."
Lena slowly climbed the stairs back to her apartment with deliberation, stomach full of butterscotch-cinnamon pie and herbal tea. She'd come to terms with what had happened, for the most part. Sure, a part of her was still upset with being left in the dark, with a couple of things Sans said to her, but she also realized that she'd reacted poorly...and she worried if he'd even give her the opportunity to apologize. 'Just because we're dating doesn't mean he has to tell me everything...' Her mind went back to that night at Alphys and Undyne's, when they sat out on the porch in the chilly winter night and looked up at the stars. 'I told him that he didn't have to talk if he didn't want to, and then I went and pushed him...' A sigh escaped her and she paused on the second topmost step, fingers curling a bit more tightly around the railing. 'Even if he's still angry, I'm going to apologize.' Feeling determined, she climbed the last couple steps and opened the front door as quietly as possible, expecting everyone (if Sans didn't come back, then just Papyrus) to be in bed asleep. She'd ended up staying and talking with Toriel for a few hours without even noticing the passage of time. Just another thing she loved about the large, motherly goat monster.
She wasn't expecting for the kitchen light to be on, the sound of the electric tea kettle hissing away as the water inside came to a boil. The door closed behind her with a soft click, and a faint clattering noise came from the kitchen, followed by a muttered curse as the sounds of ceramic being set on the counter rang out, far too loudly in the quiet ambient air of the apartment. The human slipped off her shoes by the door and turned to secure the deadbolt just as whoever it was exited the kitchen.
"Oh, uh, hey..." It hadn't been common knowledge that a skeleton's voice could crack, but his did, the normally smooth baritone breaking partway through the last word, heightening in pitch just enough to be noticeable. Sans cleared a throat he didn't have and gave another 'hey', his smile absent, instead replaced by an uncomfortable expression of guilt. The lights in his eyesockets were incredibly dim, only visible because of how dark the room itself was, and Lena raised a hand to her chest to try and quell the feeling of tension there.
"Hey..." The fact that she spoke to him at all seemed to make him relax just a little, and he sent her an uneasy smile. "I, um... I'm glad you came back," she mumbled, hoping that the things she was feeling weren't being broadcasted across her face, that she didn't look as nervous as she felt. She must have, though, because his eyesockets widened slightly, and he took a small, shuffling step forward.
"'Course I did. Not like there's anywhere else to be." Her lips twitched downward slightly and he quickly rephrased his own statement. "Nowhere else I wanna be, anyway..." They stood there, awkwardly, and after a few minutes he gestured to the couch with one of the mugs in his hands. "D'ya mind? This conversation's so tense I can hardly stand it." Her facial expression softened just the tiniest bit, her lips curving up into a tiny smile, and he felt his soul flip at the little victory. She nodded, taking a seat on one end of the couch, and Sans only hesitated for a moment before he chose to sit next to her, only a few inches separating their hips. He held out one of the mugs to her, which she gratefully accepted. She could already smell chocolate and sweetness from the rising steam, and one look revealed a mass of half-melted marshmallows on the 'd made her hot chocolate. She took a tentative sip, the hot liquid nearly too hot for her to drink comfortably, but she suppressed a small flinch, disguising it easily with a smile as the rich flavor melted over her tongue.
"Thank you," she said softly, raising her mug to take another drink. They settled into a comfortable silence, enjoying their own warm drinks and the pause to ponder their thoughts. How exactly does one go about apologizing for something when they're so certain the other person is angry? The last thing they wanted to do was fall into another argument. After a few minutes the silence was broken by Sans tapping his fingertips against his mug, the soft 'clink' of bone against ceramic breaking Lena from her thoughts. She rested her mug against her thigh, the warmth spreading through her sweats in an odd sort of comforting gesture. Swallowing past the coat of sweetness across her tongue and the lump in her throat, she spoke, her voice soft, yet sounding incredibly loud in the silence stretched between them. "I wanted...to apologize..." Sans' skull whipped around to look at her, she could see the movement from the corner of her eye, but she continued staring down into her half-empty mug, fingers curling more tightly around the ceramic. "I was really, really worried about you, and... I shouldn't have been so pushy. I still am worried, but..." she trailed off, biting her lip for a moment before continuing, "It was wrong of me to try and force my way in somewhere I don't belong." The familiar sting of salty tears touched at the corners of her eyes, but she stubbornly held them off, brows furrowing. "I... You should talk to someone. Even if it isn't me, and I-I'm sorry I-"
"Why the hell are you apologizing?" Sans interrupted, sounding genuinely confused, and she hunched her shoulders up to her ears. "Hey, no, hang on, I mean...ah, shit. You didn't do anything wrong, babe." When she wouldn't look up at him he sighed, leaning over to set his mug on the floor and scooting closer until their hips were touching, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Here I was all freaked out, thinkin' you were gonna be pissed off at me... You were just doin' what you're supposed to when someone you care about is hurt. What I do when you or Paps or Frisk or any of our friends are hurt." His fingertips dug gently into her shoulder as he gave a small squeeze, pulling her closer until she was pressed against his side. "...'m sorry. For yellin' at ya- stars, I never should've said the things I did. I was just still kinda...in fight or flight, y'know?"
"Still, I shouldn't have gotten so upset..."
He gave a small snort, "Babe, if our roles had been reversed, I'd've lost my shit... Yer allowed to be upset about somethin' like that." He felt her tense the smallest bit at those words, and he couldn't help but remember what he'd seen, how Brit had gone out of her way to mention that she'd not been allowed to express herself, and he felt like the biggest asshole for reacting the way he did. "What happened is...difficult," he struggled, speaking slowly as he tried to choose the right words. "I can't tell ya now...but I will. I just got a few things to figure out before I can do that. I'll talk to someone about it tomorrow, though. And I'll tell ya what I can..." She pulled away from him to lean over and set her mug on the floor, looking back to him with a frown.
"You don't have to force yourself to tell me anything..."
"Babe, I want to. 'sides, isn't tellin' someone you love about somethin' that troubles you kinda what your supposed to do?" he asked with a small chuckle, shrugging his shoulders and glancing up at her from the corner of his sockets. Her expression had fallen into one of surprise, her soul fluttering brightly in a way he hadn't seen before. "...What?" She seemed to snap out of the trance she'd fallen under and her cheekbones flushed a faint cherry shade, casting her eyes to wander across the room.
"N-nothing, nothing. It's just...y-you've never actually...said it before." Confusion filled his skull for a moment as he tried to understand what she meant...then realization came crashing in, and his soul strained painfully against his ribs. Any time she'd ever said she loved him, he responded with "you, too" or something similar. He'd never actually said outloud, in actual words, that he loved her. The words were on his mind frequently, any time they were together, but for whatever reason, he'd never decided to open his mouth and actually vocalize them. 'God, I'm such an ass.' She must have noticed his frantic, mortified expression, because she was looking at him in concern, brows drawn together and her lips pulled down into a small frown. "Sans...?" His name on her lips snapped him from his thoughts and he blinked at her, mind trying to grasp at what they were talking about before his stunning realization.
"Right. So, I was on my way home and happened upon a few humans who were cornering a friend of ours, a monster named Burgerpants. It was soundin' pretty tense, so I stepped in, let him escape." Even as he said the words, his mind was trying to take him back into the moments in his memory. The flash of a silver blade, the glint of crimson eyes... He suppressed a shiver and shrugged his shoulders. "They didn't much care for that. I only got hurt 'cause I didn't use my magic. Coulda dunked em into next week with a flick of the wrist."
"Yeah, I know," she mumbled softly, picking at her sweat pants, and Sans winced slightly, remembering so suddenly the night she'd woken him up from his nightmare. "I'm proud of you for not 'dunking' them, though... But why didn't you just teleport away?"
"It was downtown. Lots of people walkin' around..." Another shrug, and all she gave was a quiet 'oh', falling silent again. "But hey, it's...settled now, for the most part. The human who attacked me was found in that alley, pretty badly hurt. He won't be comin' after anyone again for a while." She nodded slightly, eyes narrowing the smallest bit, and he reached out to grab her hand. She squeezed it back, and he could feel faint tremors running through her fingertips.
"Papyrus told me that you only have 1 HP..." He frowned, running his thumb across the back of her hand, and there were tears brimming in her verdant eyes, and he hated seeing her look like this. This wasn't the side of his human he wanted to see, especially not with him being the cause. Guilt clawed its way through him as he realized again just how little of himself he's actually shared with her, and he hated it. "Y-you could've-" She choked on the word she'd been meaning to say, swallowing thickly past the lump in her throat, trying to stop the tears before they could fall. He wanted them to stop, she wanted them to stop, so he did the first thing he could think of. He shot an arm out and threw it around her waist, pulling her until she was on his lap, leaning up to press his teeth to her lips in what he hoped was a distracting kiss. She stiffened in surprise, then breathed out a quiet sob and pressed into him, her arms wrapping around his neck.
"Nah, 'm not dyin' that easily, babe," he mumbled reassuringly, pulling away just enough to get a good look at her face. A few tears had managed to escape down her cheeks, the rest clinging to her long, dark eyelashes, like morning dew on a spider's web, and something about them made her eyes look like they were shining in the darkness. He raised a hand to cup her cheek, thumb brushing away the tears there with gentle, sweeping motions. His soul fluttered when she nuzzled into his hand, pressing a kiss to his bony palm. His other hand raised until he was holding her face like it was something precious, valuable, fragile, the lights in his eyes brightening as he looked upon her. "...Stars, I love you." He heard her little intake of breath, felt the freckled skin beneath his thumbs warm as it flushed a gorgeous shade of red, and he chuckled. "I know I don't say it enough, and 'm sorry for that..." She tried to avert her eyes, to turn away, but he held her fast, looking into the eyes that were the very windows to her soul, the green pools reflecting his image. They were tempting him, begging to let them draw him into their very depths, and he wanted them to. Stars, he wanted to just fall into her and live within the light and warmth of her very soul. He was pulled from his musings when she leaned back in to press their mouths together, her lips molding against the hard surface of his teeth and he imagined, not for the first time, that it couldn't possibly be pleasant, yet she poured her all into it regardless. He slid his left hand from her cheek down to curl around the back of her neck, pulling her closer while also allowing his thumb to rest against her pulse. The strong yet gentle beat was soothing, enticing, interesting. He found himself notice how it slowed and quickened, and he wondered just what it would take to make it change its steady rhythm.
Summoning his magic, he felt it pool in the base of his jaw before it manifested, and he wasted no time with parting his teeth to allow his tongue to brush against her lips. Her pulse quickened and she drew in a shallow breath, lips parting as she granted him entry. He'd always imagined that kissing without lips would be...weird. It had never come up that it would even be possible, in his mind, until she came along. He was thankful that he'd experimented with his magic before they'd gotten together, otherwise he wouldn't be able to do what he was doing now. He wouldn't be able to feel how her tongue curled around his, or how she shivered when he traced along the outside of her lips with the tip of his tongue. He was glad that Papyrus had gone to Undyne's (even though having your baby bro encourage you to partake in 'canoodling' was probably THE most embarrassing thing), because the thought of the taller skeleton hearing the way her breathing quickened made him feel...uncomfortable. Not just his brother, but anyone. He didn't want anyone else to hear his human the way he did, to feel her the way he did. It only took a few moments of kissing before he started to grow restless, his hands itching to move The hand still cupping her cheek slid down along her shoulder and back, and he felt her tremble on his lap as it rested on her hip. When they finally broke apart her lips were slightly swollen, a faint trail of saliva along her chin. Her chest was rising and falling swiftly with panting breaths, her cheekbones flushed a deep shade of crimson. The verdant eyes he'd felt like falling into before were half-lidded now, their normal crystal green hue hazy with something he recognized but had no name for himself.
(*SINNAMON ROLL*)
"Could you...let me show you? Would that be alright?" he asked, squeezing her hip gently and relishing in the way she pressed closer to him, seeing out more contact. She didn't understand, clearly from the confusion that passed over her face, and his cheekbones glowed with a faint azure hue. "I wanna show you how much I love you..." Maybe it was his words, or maybe it was the way his voice dropped into a lower tone as he said them, but something made her grip at the back of his hoodie, her eyes shining. She gave a small, hesitant nod, and Sans felt a wide smile break out across his face. Leaning in for a chaste kiss, he hummed. "Good... Hold on tight." He lowered his hands to grip at the backs of her thighs as he got to his feet and she yelped, her voice breaking into a series of breathless giggles as he carried her across the apartment. He used his magic to open her bedroom door, kicked it shut behind him, and crossed the room to lay her carefully on the bed. Her laughter died out slowly, her breathing evening out, and Sans took the opportunity to look at her.
Her hair wasn't pulled back, as it usually was; she'd left it hanging loose, so it was spread out around her head like a halo against the forest-green of her comforter. The soft blue light from his left eyesocket illuminated the right half of her face, giving her eyes an almost iridescent teal glow. The moonlight coming in from her haphazardly closed curtains lit up her left side, outlining the soft edge of her jaw, the bridge of her nose, her brow, in a soft white light. She was nervous, he could tell that much from her expression, from the fluttering of her soul's aura, but it wasn't in an unpleasant way at all. It was less anxiety and more anticipation. He suddenly had the urge to speak, to talk on and on and on about her. He wasn't a skeleton of many words. On most days, he was too lazy, and he'd get by with saying as little as he really needed to...but she deserved it. Even more so, she made him want to say something, made him want to extinguish even the smallest amount of doubt in her mind.
It was with that want that he climbed up onto her bed along with her, a knee placed on either side of her wide hips so he was hovering over her. He leaned down and pressed his teeth to her lips in a kiss, nipping at her bottom lip, and oh, how his soul sang when he heard the soft, breathy moan that slipped past her lips in response. It was hardly even a sound at all, really, but he picked up on it acutely, as if it were the sound he was designed to hear. He wanted to hear more of it.
"Never thought much about humans, really," he mumbled against her skin as he moved across her cheek, nipping at her jaw and neck. He paused at her pulse and pressed his tongue against it, tasting her heartbeat, feeling the energy pulsing just beneath the skin against his magic. "You all have different ideas of what's attractive, what's good or bad..." He nuzzled his nasal aperture against her neck, pressing into the junction of where her neck met her shoulder and breathing in deeply. She shuddered beneath him as he sighed, a small, rumbling noise rising from his chest. "Ta monsters, we all look so different...'s the souls that matter." He moved one of his hands to rest on her sternum, just above her breasts, and she felt her breath catch at the touch. "Babe...lemme tell ya..." He made a grasping motion and pulled upward, and she felt a slight tug within her chest, and suddenly the room was bathed in a rich green light. His own soul beat wildly against the inside of his ribcage as it pleaded to be let out, to dance with hers in the small space between them, but he resisted. "...Your soul's one that any monster'd be proud of havin'." 'One anyone would be proud of bonding with...' he thought to himself, allowing the thought to linger for a moment before he pushed it away. He raised the hand he'd summoned her soul with to hover over it, fingertips just shy of touching its surface. It wasn't something solid, not something fully physical, but it was tangible. He could feel it occupying the space between them and, even though it wasn't solid, when he touched it, he felt something beneath his bony fingertips.
It was only a small touch, momentary, but in it he felt her feelings pouring into him through that small connection. Her fear and anxiety that she'd felt, the pain he'd caused her, all of those things came to the forefront, and he couldn't help the stab of guilt he felt in his nonexistent gut in response. Beneath all of that, though, was love, pure and unfiltered and simple, and it was for him. So much that his soul felt like it was going to overflow, even though it only lasted a second. He drew in a deep breath and allowed his sockets to fall closed. "Yer soul is the most gorgeous thing 've ever seen, babe. I...heh. I still have a hard time believin' that yer real."
"I am real," she mumbled quietly, raising a hand to reach through her soul, which she couldn't touch, and interlacing their fingers. Her soul floated around their joined hands, bumping eagerly against his ribcage. "...and I'm yours. If you want me to be..." The gentle nudging of her soul made his own pull greatly and he shuddered, bones rattling together slightly as he leaned down to press a kiss to her lips.
"Stars, babe, you have no idea...no idea just how badly I want you to be..." A primal urge, hardwired into his very being, was telling him to summon his own soul, to mark her as his and to allow her to mark him as hers. A desire far from sexual permeated his entire being, and, in the heat of the moment, he wanted to do it. He wanted to do whatever it took, to share everything with her, to give as much as she could take, to take as much as she could give, to share everything he was: mind, body, and soul. ...He didn't, though. Instead, he breathed her scent in deeply, feeling her squirm underneath him, and nipped at her pulse. "...Not now, though. Stars, I want to, so badly, but not now." He pulled away enough to see her face, seeing the heated expression on her face, so foreign, but so fitting. "I said I was gonna show ya how much I love ya...and normally, I hate makin' promises. But I promise, after tonight, you shouldn't have a doubt in your soul how I feel about ya." She drew in a quick breath and he could see her eyes tearing up again, but the smile she sent up to him, so warm and full of certainty and love, told him that he'd done right.
He slowly eases her soul back into her body, watching as it phases through her chest, disappearing with a final soft green glow. He leaves his hand resting against her sternum for a moment, feeling her heartbeat thrumming against his palm through her ribs, her muscle, her skin...again, he found himself wondering how much he'd have to do to make it quicken. Giving the hem of her shirt a tug he sent her a crooked smile, pulling the fabric between his fingers. "Mind takin' this off, babe?" She tensed and stayed still for a moment, as he knew she would, and he leaned forward to pepper her face with toothy kisses (how could they possibly be pleasant, he had no idea) until, after a while, she nodded. Shifting and wiggling her torso until she could pull the fabric up and over her head, she let it lay on the bed next to her, her eyes focused on it intensely. Her bottom lip pulled itself between her teeth, a nervous habit he knew by heart, and he sat back so he could just look at her. "Wow..." he breathed, reaching out hesitantly to run his fingertips across her jaw, following the ridge of bone. He traced her neck, down to the hollow of her throat, felt her swallow against his fingertips, and his eyelights flitted up to her face only to see that she was staring at him. His cheekbones flushed a stronger hue of cyan and he shot her a small grin before continuing with his exploration. From the base of her throat he followed her collarbone to her shoulder, which he leaned forward to give a small nip before his hand traveled downward. He brushed along the swell of her breast through the white cotton of her bra and ran his fingers purposefully down her side, counting her ribs in his mind. They were smaller, thinner, more delicate than his own thick, stocky ribs, but he didn't find himself missing the little joys in their differences.
"You're so soft..." he muttered, moving his hand to lay across her stomach, fingers splayed out as far as they could reach as he pressed down lightly. He knew that it was something she was insecure about, about her body size, and always made sure to cover up areas like her stomach, her legs, her arms... Body fat wasn't any big deal, and everybody (well, every human) had it, yet there were those who would belittle her for it. Frowning, he leaned down to press a kiss to her stomach, feeling her flinch slightly in surprise. "You're beautiful, baby. Stunnin'. Gorgeous." Her freckles blurred together, her face was so red, and she tore her eyes away from him, instead closing them as she fought off tears. He didn't think she'd be so emotional about this, but he wasn't about to think of it as a bad thing. He kissed and nipped his way down her stomach until he reached the hem of her sweat pants, which he tugged on gently. "You okay with this?" he asked, wanting so badly for her to be comfortable. She nodded, still not looking at him, and he crawled his way back up her body, grabbing her chin gently and guiding her face to look at him. "Hey. I wanna hear for sure... You okay with this?" She slowly opened her eyes and, when she saw him, looking at her with a concerned smile, she swallowed thickly.
"Y-yes... I'm...just nervous," she admitted, and he felt himself sigh in relief.
"Heh, join the club, baby cakes." The new nickname brought a bit of a smile to her lips before she could stop it and Sans leaned in quickly to kiss it while it was there, pulling back with a chuckle. "What, you like that nickname? I'll be sure to use it more often while icing your praises." Her smile widened and she smacked at his shoulder weakly, nothing more than a mere pat. "Nothing could ever hold a candle to you, babe." She groaned and rolled her eyes, though she was still smiling.
"If you pun me through this, Sans, I swear..." she warned, and he raised his browbones in defiance, his grin spreading to shit-eating levels.
"Who, me? I'd never..." He moved back down the bed, tugging her sweat pants down her thighs bit by bit. She immediately quieted herself, looking self-conscious. "You're just too sweet to resist, baby cakes." Once the article of clothing was fully removed he allowed it to fall off the edge of the bed, to the floor where it was immediately forgotten. "It's a good thing, too, 'cause, wouldn't ya know it... I've got a sweet-tooth." He punctuated this proclamation with a soft bite to her hip, and the gasp she gave made his magic thrum strongly within his bones. He felt the skin underneath his hands tense, goosebumps breaking out all over it as she shivered. "You cold?" She shook her head slowly, and he felt the smallest little nip of pride in the back of his skull. "Good."
He allowed his hands to roam, dragging his palms up her thighs to squeeze at her soft stomach. She let out a small whine of protest, but she made no move to stop him, so he continued. Kneading at the flesh of her tummy was...hypnotizing. He imagined that it must be similar to the feeling people who use stress-balls get. Everything about her was just so comfortable, so soft, so warm... Even if she hated the very things that made her so, he loved every single one. Sliding his hands down to grip at her hips, he leaned up to press his nasal ridge against the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply. When he finally exhaled, he mumbled words to her, his voice a soft growl in the silence of the room. "You're so perfect, stars, I love you." She trembled and her breathing quickened, her hands reaching up to grip at his ribs through his shirt, pulling him closer. She was ready.
"Tell me what to do, baby," he growled, nipping at her shoulder before pulling back to look at her. Her face was flushed, eyes half-lidded, lips parted as she drew in little uneven breaths. It did funny things to his soul, especially when her eyes met his. "I've done some research, but I've never...heh, never done this before." A look of fondness crossed over her features, one that was so warm it made him want to lean in and kiss her again, but he was waiting for an answer. She drew her bottom lip between her teeth again, gnawing on it as she hesitated, then, after a few seconds, grabbed his wrist and moved his hand to her breast. He stared at where he hand was now located, slightly startled by the boldness of the move, then a sly smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Guess I got my answer. After all...you know breast." The look she leveled him with in that moment made him snort loudly, shoulders shaking with poorly concealed snickering. "Sorry! I'm so sorry-"
"No you're not..." she mumbled, bottom lip sticking out in a pout, and oh, he couldn't resist. He leaned in close and nipped at her extended lower lip, his hand moving to cup her breast in his palm while giving it a firm squeeze.
"Yer right, I'm not." Moving so that his knees were on either side of her stomach, he hovered just over her, sitting up so both of his hands were free to explore the newly-granted territory. Just like her stomach and hips, this area was incredibly soft, as well, if not even more so. His hands weren't big enough to fully grasp, but he enjoyed grabbing whatever he could. "I love how soft you are..." It was so vastly different. He was all hard bone and edges, where she was soft flesh and curves. She gave a little sigh of pleasure as he brushed across the front of her bra and he paused, repeating the action to see if he could get the same result. She bit her lip and her cheeks reddened further.
"You can take it off..."
His hands had never moved so fast in his entire life. He pulled the straps down her shoulders, then felt around the front of the band...no luck. Frowning slightly, he thought back, remembering what he'd seen in those videos, and he slid his hands beneath her back. She arched slightly to try and give him more room, which he thanked her for by nipping at the top of her breast exposed from her bra. He pulled and tugged at the band, feeling around for clasps...but it wouldn't come off. Giving a small grunt of frustration he sat up, practically shoving his entire forearms underneath her to try and figure it out. He didn't realize she was laughing at him until he felt her chest shaking beneath his skull, which had moved to press against her sternum. She giggled in absolute delight, as if it were the funniest thing she'd ever seen, and Sans felt his skull flush blue in both embarrassment and shame. "Heh, it's uh...hard to take these things off when ya can't see the back," was his lame excuse, which only made her giggle harder, a stray snort of laughter escaping her.
"Push, don't pull." She was still chuckling as he took her advice and, miraculously, the clasps came open. He was quick to pull the offending article off of her and toss it to the floor of her bedroom to rest in some unknown corner. When he turned his eyes back to her (and away from glaring at the damned bra that had confounded him) he was surprised...not in a bad way. She was different from the women in the videos and, though he'd known they were different, he wasn't sure how different. Instead of perfectly round mounds that rested perfectly in line with her sternum, Lena was softer...which he found himself enjoying, quite a bit, as he returned his hands to them. He kneaded and squeezed and felt every inch he could get his hands on, and an amused snort from beneath him made him glance at her face. She rolled her eyes. "Men..." she muttered good-naturedly, and he snorted.
"I get the appeal now. Damn, they're soft."
"Heh, well, not all women are as..." she gestured towards herself, "...squishy...as I am." He'd expected her to say something negative, but he moved past it easily, leaning down to nip at the tender underside of her breast, pulling a small moan from her.
"Yer perfect," was all he said, and a small part of her wanted to argue, but she found her words vanished as something cool slid across her nipple. Her breathing hitched and her eyes fluttered closed as Sans ran his tongue across the hardened nub, feeling her shiver beneath his hands. "I love how soft ya are," he growled against her skin, giving a few gentle nips here or there as he slowly moved himself downward. As addicting as playing with her breasts was, he could feel her desperation- hell, he could smell it. The scent of her desire, although faint, was enticing, and, more than anything, he found himself wanting to fulfill it. "How warm ya feel. Yer always so fuckin' hot..." He bit at the inside of her thigh, enough that his teeth left shallow indentations, but not hard enough to mark. She seemed to enjoy it regardless, her legs spreading apart as he settled himself between them. He opened his mouth to ask her again what she wanted...but he cut himself off. Surely it would feel more rewarding if he brought her pleasure all on his own, right? He dipped his index finger underneath the hem of her cotton panties, stretching the elastic slightly before letting it snap back into place. She jumped slightly, her breathing picking up again, watching him through half-lidded eyes. He met those eyes, and she gave a quick nod of consent before he slid her underwear off her legs, tossing them to join the rest on the floor. Yet more differences, but he didn't care enough to even call attention to them. He brushed his fingertips through auburn curls, giving her thigh a gentle pinch as he nudged her legs further apart. "Relax, baby," he rumbled softly, rubbing small circles on the juncture of where her thigh met her pelvis, feeling her shiver beneath his touch.
Slowly, so slowly, he moved to trail his index finger along her now exposed sex, and the first thing that came to mind was how hot she was. If he'd thought she was warm before, that was nothing compared to what he felt here, and he had a small bit of pride run through him when he pulled his hand back (to which she whined) and saw his index finger was already slick. "Calm down, babe, I'm not leavin' you hangin'," he chuckled, bringing his finger up to his mouth and allowing his tongue to wash over its surface. His magic surged in his bones and he shuddered, the soft rattling noise mingling well as he groaned at the unique taste. "Shit, babe...you really are sweet." She squirmed and tried to press her thighs together to get some sort of relief, but he held her fast, pushing her legs so that her knees bent slightly. He shifted down the bed a bit until he was practically at eye-level with her feminine mound, and he watched as realization dawned on her. She sputtered slightly, trying to sit up, but he gave another gentle nip to her thigh, causing her to still. "This okay?" he asked, glancing up at her yet again, and she nodded feverishly. He wanted to tease, to make her vocalize it...but the sudden desire to fulfill her was too great. With great care he leaned forward, lying on his stomach with his skull between her thighs, and brought his hands up to gently separate her lower lips. "You're so fuckin' gorgeous right now, babe." She drew in a sharp breath that ended up releasing itself as a low moan as he ran his tongue up her slit, from base to top. A rumbling growl escaped his chest as he got lost in the rich and unique taste, immediately going in for more. All the while he continued talking, a trick made easy since he was made up of magic itself, so his words were unhindered, even as his tongue continued to work her. He praised and complimented her, pausing to roll her clit beneath the blunted tip of his tongue, and she keened loudly, hips trying to press closer to his face. He chuckled, a deep, reverberating sound, and slowly slid one hand up from where it gripped at her thigh.
Hesitantly, he pushed his index finger into her, feeling her stiffen only for a moment before she spread her legs wider, a silent plea for more all while opening herself up to him. He did this to her, to his human, and he felt more pride than he had in a long while. He eventually added another finger, his middle joining his index, and he kept a steady rhythm, trusting in time with his licks. She tried her hardest to keep herself quiet but, after a few minutes, she lowered her hands to grip at his skull with trembling hands, moaning and panting and calling his name. "You gettin' close, baby cakes?" She gave a breathless nod, her hips rising off the bed to try and meet him, and he raised his free hand to hold them down. "Good." He increased his efforts, circling his tongue around her clit, delving it inside to join his fingers, nuzzling against where her thigh met her pelvis, everything, nothing was enough for him. He turned his wrist and curled his fingers insider her towards himself in a 'come hither' motion and she cried out, breathlessly begging for him to do it again. He did so gladly, feeling her thighs quivering on either side of his skull, making his magic burn within his bones, his soul hammering wildly against his ribcage. Soon her voice heightened and she grew louder, and he idly thanked the stars that Papyrus wasn't home, because there was no chance he wouldn't have heard her. Carefully, he used his magic to tug her soul out of her body, making it float into the hand not busy working inside of her, and it was by fate alone that he managed to curl his fingers just right the very moment he touched her soul.
She cried out loudly, an intimate song written just for him, and he could feel her affection and her desire and her love flow into his very soul as she orgasmed, the muscles of her inner walls clamping down on his fingers. He withdrew his fingers hastily and greedily lapped up everything she had to give, helping her ride out the waves of pleasure until they finally subsided. He released her soul and it nuzzled against his chest for a moment before it almost reluctantly returned to her. She was gasping and panting as she came down from her high, and he was quick to crawl back up the bed to meet her, pressing his teeth to her cheeks, her forehead, her nose, her lips, in a series of soft kisses. "Love you." Kiss. "Love you so much." Kiss. "Stars, baby girl, I love you so much." Kiss. Lena sniffled loudly and he felt a brief panic when he realized that she was crying, tears spilling out from her eyes and down her flushed, freckled cheeks. He was about to ask what was wrong, what he did wrong, but then she sent him the warmest, gentlest, most loving smile he'd ever seen, and stars, if it didn't make him fall even more in love. They laid there for a long while in contented silence, him running his bony phalanges through her hair as she basked in her afterglow. "...So did I make it up to ya?" She laughed, a sound so carefree and unbound that it made his soul do little flips in his chest. She leaned up to press a kiss to his cheekbone, her smile widening.
"Yeah... I think you did."
[[ Welp. There you have it, boys and girls. The longest chapter of WaW to date. Just over 10k words. I hope you all enjoyed it! (I sure enjoyed writing it ahuhuhu~) Feel free to follow on tumblr (life-sans-sin), send me messages, make requests, anything! Love you guys! ]]