Chapter Five :: Rain On Me

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The next morning comes without warning. Sans stares at the empty ceiling above his bed with his hand resting over his forehead. He isn't sure if he slept well or if he slept at all. He gradually sits up and lingers in silence for a moment. There aren't any sounds coming from anywhere in the house, everything is quiet and settled, beckoning a new day ahead for him. He rubs his sockets as he fights the restless urge to lay in bed for the rest of the day. Even if he did, he wouldn't catch a wink of sleep anyway. There's just too many thoughts running through his mind. He can't make sense of his days, ever since you fell into the underground. It's all a mad mess of events that he simply can't keep up with. It's getting exhausting.

Maybe this is what you meant… living your life like a dream. Now I know how you feel…

San swivels on his bed and drags himself up. Then with a yawn, he shuffles his feet across the floorboards towards the door. He hopes that Papyrus is already awake, and if he'd be interested in going to Grillby's for breakfast this morning. It would make a nice change from his all-spaghetti diet. But as he swings open the door of his bedroom, he's suddenly met with the widened eyes of the fallen fugitive human. You. Wrapped in nothing but two fluffy towels over your hair and your torso. And Sans is immediately floored.

"Oh… um, morning… Sans." You say quietly as you try to shake away your surprise. You hoped you could sneak past his bedroom and into the bathroom without having to wake anyone up, but it seems that an interesting morning was inevitable in the skeleton home. Sans is stuck simply staring at you in unfathomable shock, before he blinks and regains his composure whilst you stroke a wayward strand of hair underneath your towel.

"Mornin', bud. Did you sleep well last night?" He desperately tries to keep his cool as he leans against the doorframe, "Gotta be a lot better than the shed floor, right?"

"I won't say no to a warm duvet and a soft mattress, I'll admit that." You smile as you feel your body heating up once again as Sans' gaze drops to your bare legs. Suddenly, you're incredibly self-conscious about the length of the towel, and you quietly worry if it's really covering the bottom half of you like you once thought. Your face flares into an incredible shade of red as you quickly step towards the bathroom, "Um, I'll talk to you later. I just have to clean up…"

"Hey, uh, actually I'm glad I caught you. I want to ask you something." Sans calls after you, and you instantly freeze on the spot. You turn a little over your shoulder to see how he stepped out of the doorframe with his hand stretched out. But he quickly pulls himself back as he awkwardly retreats and continues, "I was wondering… if you're getting bored with eating the same thing all the time, then maybe you… well, I'm actually really happy you enjoy my brother's cooking this much, so I don't mean to say you're bored with it… but anyway, if you'd like to take a break from eating so much spaghetti, then maybe… you'd like to… come to Grillby's for a bite to eat?"

You curl your lips into a gentle smile, and you feel humbled by his effort to be friendly. You grip tighter on to your towel as you nod,

"Sure, that sounds really nice. Just… give me a few minutes to prepare myself. I'll let you know when I'm ready to go, okay?"

"Yeah, okay. Just say the word." Sans says with a cocked smile as you disappear into the bathroom, with one last eager side-glance at him before you leave. And immediately after you shut the door, Sans almost stumbles towards the railings of the balcony and throws his arms around it as his legs feel as if they completely turned jelly.

He holds his head in his hands as he presses his mouth into a tight thin line. He's never tried so hard to calm down so much in his life. Your presence alone shoots at his nerves, and catching you as you were so suddenly in the morning had completely knocked his composure all over the place. It took all the strength he had within him to stop the urge to drag his curious gaze along the contour of your figure, wrapped loosely with a towel. The sudden image of you from the night before promptly popped up in his head, and it was all he could think about as he spoke to you. The image of your bare frame clung to his memory and refused to leave. It was as if your fully exposed form had been permanently branded into his memory. And it was enough to tear down his composure in no time at all.

He feels perspiration on his forehead as he runs his hand over his skull, and he takes a deep breath as he shakily returns to his bedroom. He can hear you pacing around the bathroom as you make your way around. The sound of your footsteps pattering on the ground makes it sound as if you're in the same room as him. It makes Sans wonder how thin the walls between you really are. Papyrus obviously had to resize the bedrooms so that a small bathroom could fit in between, so he mustn't have put too much space between the plastered walls.

I bet it's as thin as paper…

Then, an idea crosses his mind all of a sudden, and lingers there as he presses his hand against the wall. It feels incredibly hollow just by pushing against it slightly. He knew that with enough force, it could be easily damaged and indented. He could very easily put his arm right through it if he wanted. Again, the idea loudly runs past his mind as it grows all the more tempting, and his teeth bite into a ruthless grin. His pupils dissipate into the black voids of his sockets, and his blue glowing iris fades into existence as he slowly lifts a hand to the ceiling. He doesn't think twice once he summons a small bone attack in the air.

Just one tiny movement… just one… and it's done…

This mantra is all he needs to tell himself before his wrist flicks to the direction of the wall, his eyes follow in anticipation as the bones fly across the room, and they effortlessly pierce through the plaster with a small thump. The sound it created wasn't enough to attract any suspicious attention. Sans' wicked smile grows wider as the crumbling pieces fall to the ground in an insignificant heap, and his slippers bury into it as he steps before the newly created hole indented into the wall. It's small enough to be disguised as a crack in the plaster, but it's just large enough to make out the majority of the room on the other side. And more importantly, it's wide enough to make out the person standing inside, completely oblivious to the perverse intentions of the sinner on the other side.

You pull the towel from over your head and let it fall over the side of the basin. Your hair unfurls in an unkempt mess around your face. Then, as you step up to the bathtub, and as you turn the faucet to bring the shower to life, you stretch your hand into the falling water and smile to yourself at the pleasant warmth. Sans presses his forehead to the plaster and steadies his hands against the wall. His tongue runs along the curve of his corrupted grin, and all sense of goodwill is completely lost on him. You're too much, you're addicting, every day is a new struggle to withstand the overwhelming power you hold over him. The lines are beginning to blur and it's difficult to tell right from wrong… your power is too strong to fight… so why… why am I fighting so hard against this anymore?

Finally, the towel wrapped around you falls away. And his clawed fingers crush the plaster beneath his tight grasp.

You step into the shower and sigh as you feel the warm water rain down over your head. Your hair flattens and sticks to your back like second skin as your hands slowly run over it. The soapy water runs down your body until your unscathed skin begins to shine. You can feel the dirt that clung to your skin wash away down the drain, you feel completely refreshed as if you've been reborn again, and you feel the remnants of the soap drip off every inch of you. Your arms, your stomach, your legs, every single part of you is restored to its former glory. And Sans can tell how much you enjoy the feeling as your mouth lets out a satisfied sigh every time you run your fingers over your frame.

The steam from the water rises up and makes the air incredibly warm. The smell of scented soap sprinkles the atmosphere with an alluring aroma that fills your senses. You're in paradise in your own home. And as you close your eyes with the water bouncing off your face, your hands stretch up to feel the streams of water pool in your palms and fall between your fingers. You mind begins to drift as your hands begins to wander. Slowly, and as if by accident, your thoughts are brought to him once more…

You conjure the image of Sans just as you saw him earlier that morning, and you recall how his eyes dragged his gaze over you with a crude smile. You saw how he tried to hide this, but you're too observant of his movements. His face lit up with wordless desire, and you saw it deep within the darkened shadows of his sockets. You saw the way his shaken composure gave away how much he wanted your towel to dissipate, you saw how he picked the towel from your body with his eyes, and you were surprised as you found a perceptive gleam within them… as if he's already seen every bit of you… without you even knowing it…

And yet, the idea of Sans watching you like this… the idea of his lustful gaze looking over the curves of your figure… the idea of his watchful eyes studying how you touch yourself… that idea turned you on beyond belief.

Sans suddenly takes a sharp intake of breath as your face lights up in a deepening blush, and your fingers run smoothly over your liquid skin from your exposed neck down towards your shoulder blades. A small moan escapes your lips as your hands slowly slide further down you torso, lightly moving the tips of your fingers over the skin between your breasts towards the curve of your navel. And your head tips back as water rushes down the shape of your face, and drips from your chin as your hand ventures down your torso to the most sensitive part of you.

Your fingers slip between the folds, and slowly move in delicious circles around your clit as the water rushes between them. And your head swims as you find your fingers slide easily with the soapy water. Your hips shudder as the warmth of the water rushes down your body just as the adrenaline rushes through your bloodstream, and a pressured pool of pure ethereal ecstasy begins to build in your abdomen. Your mouth hangs agape in silent pleasure as water falls away from your full lips, soundlessly calling out to the man that made you feel this way.

And he can't take much more of this. Sans wants the wall to completely disappear, he wants the lone obstacle to completely crumble away until there's only him and you, opposing each other like a western showdown. He wants his hands where your hands aimlessly wander. He wants his tongue against yours, battling for dominance, discovering how you taste, before he brings it between your legs, licking your folds, and discovering how you taste all over again. He wants all of this so much, to the point where the wall quietly creaks beneath the intense pressure of his hands pushing against it.

You fall back against the wall until you're sitting on the side of the tub with your legs resting apart. Your head leans back into the corner of the wall with the water hitting against your chest, and the speed of the jet feels as if it's piercing through your skin. You clench your teeth as you breathe in erratic intervals, almost as if you're enjoying how rough the water feels against you, and your fingers begin to speed up between your folds. And you wonder how Sans likes it… soft and slow… or hard and dirty?

You wonder what he would do if he could see you now, and you wonder what you could do for him. There's no doubt that you've found his attraction to you thoroughly entertaining, there's no doubt that you've become the sole objective of his desire, and you cruelly revel in the torturous game you've invented to tease him as often as possible… until you find yourself wondering just how far you could truly push it until he loses his mind…

The speed of the shower is giving you sadistic ideas. And as your heavy-lidded eyes flutter through your vision, blurring with intense pleasure deep within your core, your gaze catches an eyeful of the showerhead. There's a clasp at the base of it. And you smile wickedly. It's detachable.

Sans is struggling to hold himself back as he sees you suddenly reach up to press down on the clasp with your thumb. His fists are trembling against the walls as you pull the showerhead from the clasp, and bring it closer to you until it hovers over your torso. The water spills over the skin between your breasts and creates a glistening stream flowing all the way down to your encompassed fingers, and your breath hitches in your throat as you feel the warmth of the water running over your lower lips, making you shiver. His eyes narrow as he wonders what you intend to do, and he feels himself easing away a little in slight relief. Then, his sockets widen all of a sudden as your gaze lifts vacantly to the empty space, and you drag your tongue slowly along your bottom lip before biting down on it, hard. You're preparing yourself. Sans wonders what for.

And he instantly regrets his curiosity as you reveal your intentions.

Suddenly, he tightens his jaw to stifle a sharp gasp. You bring the showerhead slowly over towards your navel, down further towards your lower lips, and as your fingers scopes your folds apart, the rushing shower of water rains down mercilessly against your sensitive skin. And immediately on impact, you involuntarily arch forward as you loudly let loose an elongated moan through your pouted lips. Your eyes roll back as the blissful bouts of intense pleasure overpowers all your senses, until your head spins into a spiral of clouded thoughts.

The sight of you like this deeply cuts Sans to the core. He feels sharp tremors take over every bone, weaken his ability to stand, and shorten his erratic breathing. His wayward tongue hangs low as drool crawls down his chin carelessly. His tight grip against the wall shakes aggresively as he almost pushes himself through the plaster entirely. And he feels instantly restrained as the result of his arousal pushes against the tight material of his shorts.

Fucking hell… again…

Almost reluctantly, Sans tucks his thumb beneath the hem of his shorts and shifts it over his growing erection, and it illuminates into a flaring cyan as his increasing desire pulsates through his bones. His magic comes from such a rooted place within him that it feels as if the deeply-seated aching in his cock runs through every inch of his skeleton, and each breath sends abysmal bouts of pure euphoria over his bones like adrenaline. And the sight of you alone, the sight of your twisted smile as you've been overcome with ecstasy, is almost enough to push him completely over the edge. Almost.

He draws his hand over the base of his cock, and pumps as a delicious thrill curls and shudders down his spine. He leans his forehead fiercely against the wall as his free hand unfurls against the plaster, and presses his middle finger hard against the ridge of the paint as if it was you. As your fingers moves the rushing water around your clit in a breath-taking motion, stimulating your skin as you become more and more sensitive to the liquid touch, you both imagine it is his hands, skilfully bringing you to the height of paradise with the sound of his name on your breath.

"Sans, please…" you plead, voice like velvet. Sans lets out an animalistic growl in response, muffled by the desperate clench of his teeth as he tries not to be heard.

You imagine his hands, callous and skilled, as he feels for the shape of your entrance, hungrily burning the movements that made you shiver the most with pleasure into his memory. You tense as the harsh bouts of bliss pulsate harder and harder deep within your core, and you sharply suck the air between your teeth as you try to delay the sensations for as long as you can. But you can't last for much longer.

And Sans reaches the same height, speeding up his movement as he pumps in sync with your heavy breathing. Your whole body stiffens as you moan loudly, your legs brace for the unrelenting onslaught of shuddering, and they constrict in protest as you try once more to resist. The glowing cyan colours bursting within Sans' eye lights up like a roaring firecracker, and he can't hold back for much longer in turn. You're both lost and obliterated to the soaring and agonising perfection of paradise. And as you let loose an elongated moan, as you throw back your head as you give your body away to the skeleton man's magic hands, you swear you hear his voice cry out as you cum.

Sans gasps beyond ecstasy as he releases every bit of himself in an intensive wave of pure euphoria. He's gone, careening into an ethereal realm as you join him unknowingly on the other side of the wall. Everything you know about reality melts away around you as you blend in with the water. You feel like liquid, returning to the Earth in particles as nature claims your body, shattering into a million pieces. The reddish tinge blossoming over your cheekbones never falters on the harsh comedown, and you upturn the showerhead and aim the stream above your hair so that the water cools down the heat emanating from your head. The bathroom feels too much like a furnace.

Sans feels weak, as if he exerted all of his power in his final climax, and leans hopelessly against the wall as he attempts to catch his breath. He can't quite understand what it is about you that makes him cum. He wonders if it's the sound you make when you shape his name on your lips, or the movements of your wrists as your fingers explore the depths of your curiosity in the world, and in yourself. There's no one answer. There's dozens. There's too many to ignore, or resist any longer. And the more he wonders about this, the more he comes to realise…

You're not human. No, you're a fucking goddess.

He goes to slam his fist against the wall in frustration, but he stops himself as he fears of disturbing you. He lays his forehead against the plaster, torn between the urge to end your life, draped over with the desire to preserve it. He catches his tongue between his teeth as he steadily regains his composure to glance one final time through the crack in the wall. You're still laying on the side of the tub, lazily enjoying the slowing spurts of the water jet raining down on your form, completely limp and lifeless with satisfaction.

And suddenly, for a moment… Sans wonders why you still appear to be wearing your black banded jewellery wrapped around your forearm…

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Chapter Five End. Chapter Six coming soon, as always...

Thank you everyone for reading and thanks so much again for all the awesome reviews! You guys truly give me motivation to keep writing. You're all the best, I mean this from the bottom of my heart. Cheers everyone, pass over your thoughts on today's chapter, and I'll see you all real soon~!