Hey, what do ya know? I actually managed to keep up with this idea for more than a day!
I really liked this idea when it popped into my head - and technically, I was expecting it to cover a lot more content, like a developing relationship between Frisk and Sans as they grew into an adult, but. . . by the time I finished this, it just seemed like that would make things drag on too much. I liked the tone of this one-shot's ending. I think I may continue with this idea, though, in a separate thing. A companion fic, or something like that.
Today (Day 2)'s prompt for Frans Week was "Waterfall"
Enjoy!
"sorry, kiddo – only the hotland chain sells headdogs. here we've just got regular ol' 'dogs."
The human child in front of him huffed, crossing their arms stubbornly as their bottom lip puckered out in a pout. They frequently came around during his shifts, trying to coerce the skeleton into playing some sort of game with them. Since it was the easiest, they usually came to bug Sans during his shift at the 'dog stand he ran in Hotland, where he'd stack food items on their dome 'til the tower eventually fell over.
Today, however, it seemed that Frisk would not be appeased with waiting. "sorry, bud. you gotta hold up a while if you wanna hang out." They looked displeased, to say the least. Sans gave an amused sigh as they fixed him with their squint-y stare.
they're gonna use this as an excuse to guilt me, aren't they?
Their expression softened into something sadder. That jutted lip began to tremble minutely.
yes. yes they are.
Sans could see the beginnings of moisture on their lashes, and broke into a nervous sweat as he grinned tensely at them.
"kid. . ."
Their expression started to pinch, lip wobbling dangerously as those devilish little croc-tears started to bead up. Sans was getting desperate. His voice pitched into a flustered whine as he made a placating motion with his hands.
"aw, c'mon, frisk, don't- -"
Sniffle.
They made a quiet, keening noise, knowing they had the skeleton playing right into their trap.
"i'll make it up to you, alright kiddo? we can hang out after i'm done with work, got it? just you n' me. sound good?"
By the stars, this kid really had him wrapped around their little finger – and they knewit. He'd always been a sucker for a good pair of puppy eyes. . .
Their tears seeming to evaporate with the flip of a mental switch, Frisk immediately perked up into a broad, shining grin, nodding vehemently. Sans could tell he was screwed. There was no fighting that cute face.
"heh. it's a date, then."
The pair's "date", was nothing more than a little walk and a picnic in Waterfall. Frisk, apparently, had gone home after pulling the puppy eyes on Sans to wait, telling their mother of the outing. Toriel, ever the kind monster, had done some baking during the time between then and the end of Sans' work day, sending them along with a basket and blanket to enjoy during the trip.
Most of the time was spent in silence, aside from the odd joke here and there from Sans, and the two spent the majority of it looking around and listening to any new voices whispering from the echo flowers. It was peaceful, actually. He was enjoying himself, and Frisk seemed happy to be spending time together, even if they were a little. . . twitchy, here and there. They seemed clingy, but were also noticeably careful about walking too close to him. Every time they accidentally brushed against one another, Frisk would squeak and pull away again, looking at everything but Sans with a sudden, deep interest. It was a little odd, but he didn't pay much attention to it. Children acted weird without explanation all the time, right?
Now that he thought of it, Sans hadn't spent much time with the kid lately, had he? No, he'd been pretty busy with his different jobs for once, and Frisk was usually cooped up at either Toriel's home in the Ruins, or Asgore's castle in New Home. Since the two had adopted Frisk into their family line, technically, they were royalty, which had a certain amount of required. . . grooming, coming with that title. Lessons on etiquette, monster history, dialect (for those who either did not or could not speak the Underground's "official language"), and, to put it shortly, how to lead and govern a kingdom as New Home's potential Sovereign.
Yeah. Not a lot of spare time for hanging out with your bud between all of that.
Sans tapped the kid's shoulder as they entered the cavern containing the Bridge Seed puzzle. They flinched slightly, looking up at him. The skeleton pointed quietly at a bell at the far side of the cave, which Frisk then went to ring. The Seeds' blossoms folded back into themselves at the sound, and began to drift through the water, back to their starting point. Sans scooped one from the faintly-glowing pond, and placed it on top of Frisk's head, seeing how their hands were full with a picnic basket (they had insisted), before taking hold of the other three (two in his hands, one with his magic).
He then wandered to the far right, following the stream to where it vanished into a dark, empty tunnel. With a wink to his companion, Sans dropped the first Bridge Seed into the water, letting it drift down and out of sight. Frisk looked more than a little concerned, and eyed the summoning bell. "hold up, kiddo. check this out." Two more seeds were sent after the first. One of them stopped just outside of the shadows. He made a motion for Frisk to place the last one, and they tipped their head forward, letting the plant slip from their hair to plop into the water. The Seeds bloomed, creating a path sturdy enough for the two to walk over. Frisk looked intrigued as they crossed the seeds onto a proper, wooden bridge, and entered a much smaller cavern. It housed a bench, a single echo flower, and some bio-luminescent grass. A small handful of glowing crystals were embedded in the earthy walls. The blue light was soothing.
"ever been back here before?" he questioned in a low voice, to which the child shook their head in response, still glancing around. "pretty cool, huh? not a lot of monsters know about little caves like this. 's a nice place to go when you need some peace and quiet to think in. plus, check this out."
Frisk's eyes widened when Sans got to his knees by the bench, and pulled out what looked like a rather sugarless egg-pie from beneath it. Seeing how it was technically monster food, it could not spoil, leading them to wonder just how long it had been hiding there.
"free quiche, with lots of psychological problems on the side. neat, right?"
Instead of eating it, Sans put the quiche back, and began to set up their actual picnic. Frisk wandered over to the flower, listening to its regretful message with a sad, but curious, expression. When they had turned around, a blanket had been unfolded and set in front of the bench (for some reason), and the basket was taken from the human's hands to be set in one corner. They sent Sans an incredulous look, to which he shrugged in response.
"we already brought the blanket. would be a shame not to use it, right?"
They shrugged, and sat down beside him. Sans noticed the kid looked a little distracted.
"you doin' ok, bud? you've been kinda. . . twitchy, lately." Averting their gaze to stare at the wall-crystals, they nodded. Was it just him, or did their face look a little. . . red? Was it normal for humans to change color like that? "are you sick? y'know, we could've done this another day, if you're not feelin' good."
The child shook their head hard, and Sans tried to ignore the darker shade that started coming to their face. They were wringing their hands in a nervous manner, he realized, and decided to move on to something else for their sake. Although, he had to admit, the flustered look they were sporting was pretty adorable. Toriel would be absolutely swooning by now, if she were here. The picnic basket said monster had prepared for the two of them was opened, and Sans started to take out a couple different dishes with the kid's help. Snail pie, butts pie, golden flower tea, and some monster candy. It was simple, but made with love, which beat a bunch of water sausages any day. The small spread was still warm with residual fire-magic, which added a particular spark to it as Sans felt the food disperse into energy to be absorbed by his body. He couldn't help but wonder what it was like for Frisk to consume magically-made food, being a human and all.
Speaking of them, they seemed. . . quite focused on their food. Like, weirdly focused. Sure, the kid had never really been one for words, but this was just strange, even for them. It was a little off-putting. He sent them a grin, but was dutifully avoided. "hey, kiddo, what's up? snail got your tongue?"
Frisk huffed at his poorly-made joke, and stuck said tongue out at the skeleton.
"ah. yep, ok. looks pretty snail-free to me. you're good." They pouted at his cheesy grin, which melted into something small and concerned. "c'mon, pal, i'm really trying, here. i thought you wanted to hang out? so talk to me, or somethin'," he added when they frantically began to nod, "you're being really quiet. it's starting to worry me a bit. tell me about all that junk tori and fluffybuns are teaching you. learn any new signs lately?"
As a part of their lessons in alternate monster dialect, Toriel had been teaching Frisk a variant of sign language – commonly referred to as "Hands" – adopted and added onto by the more nonverbal monsters Underground. They'd really taken a shine to it, and tended to default to what they knew on their less talkative days. It worked a lot better than nodding or shaking your head someone guessed what you were saying correctly. Sans, being more or less fluent in Hands (the story of how he learned was left up to interpretation, since he didn't like talking about it for some reason), actually used to help out with their lessons, until the Queen caught him teaching them a few phrases she hadn't been too fond of. She didn't seem to agree that the humor of the situation was a liable excuse for those kinds of words, so he'd been temporarily banned from participating in her child's lessons.
At the mention of the language they were being taught, Frisk seemed to perk up a little. They nodded with a grin, popping a final forkful of snail pie into their mouth, wincing when a missed bit of shell crunched between their teeth. Sans snickered. As they moved on to the butterscotch-cinnamon variant, nursing a thermos of hot tea between them, Frisk went on to show him all of the different words and phrases they'd learned. Sans already knew what the majority of them meant, being quite knowledgeable in Hands, himself, but the kid really seemed to enjoy "teaching" him, so he just grinned and went along with it. They would slowly sign one word to him, finger-spell what it represented, and then do it again, only faster. He'd nod and hum and haw, humoring them, even mirroring their actions between bites of pie. It was a good refresher for his own skills, after all, considering he didn't have much reason to speak in Hands these days.
As the two finished and began packing up, they seemed to be running out of signs to show him, and it wasn't long until they notified him of only one being left. He nodded, and popped a piece of monster candy in his mouth, briefly savoring the distinct, non-licorice flavor. "alright," he mumbled around the sweet, tucking the now-folded blanket into the picnic basket, "hit me."
Frisk seemed oddly shy about this one, for whatever reason, hesitating for a few moments before demonstrating. Sans quirked a brow and had to stifle a snort of laughter when he saw. The human pressed the tips of their fingers and thumb together on both hands, almost like a mouth hand-puppet, and gently tapped the ends of both "mouths" together. They seemed to be focusing very hard on their hands, diligently avoiding Sans' gaze.
Unable to resist teasing them, he inquired, "oh? what's that one mean?"
But that's when things got a little. . . weird. Not bad-weird, just. . . unexpected.
Rather than finger-spelling out the word, like they had for every sign beforehand (pun not intended, for once), the human fixed the skeleton with a nervous, albeit stubborn, look. From where they stood next to him, Frisk leaned up, and pressed a quick, shaky kiss to Sans' cheekbone. When they pulled back, their face was reddened with a blush, and their lips were drawn down into a determined expression. They were. . . trembling, a little. Sans blinked down at them owlishly for a moment, for once at a loss for words. His light-pupils were small, showing a mixture of shock and a bit of confusion, while his face started to become ever-so-slightly colored with a flustered sort of magic. Frisk seemed very anxious to see his reaction.
. . .
After a moment, his face relaxed into a flimsy smile, looking. . . sympathetic, perhaps? He affectionately ruffled their hair with a bony hand, moving to pick up the basket with the other. So that was it, then? Why they'd been so awkward and quiet? aw, geez. . .
Frisk had developed a crush on him.
"heh. . . sorry, frisk," he murmured, sounding genuinely apologetic. It was sweet, and all, but come on. They were still a kid, especially when compared to him. "might wanna wait for that kinda stuff for until you're older though, pal. or at least for someone your own age. i appreciate the thought, though. you've got this old bag a bones all flattered, heh heh."
Frisk stopped for a moment, looking crestfallen, and stars, Sans felt horrible.
by asgore's beard, someone just strike me down right here and now. i don't wanna be responsible for breaking this poor squirt's heart, followed by, shit, is tori gonna be mad at me? Probably not, but Sans didn't want to risk it. Hell hath no fury like a mother when you've hurt her kid's feelings, even if it's for a good reason.
However, before he could worry over that idea much longer, the kid perked up. Taking a deep breath, they pinned the skeleton with yet another, determined look. He could practically sense the red glow of their SOUL growing brighter as they gave him a curt not. It was obvious that the kid wasn't going to give up on this. They weren't the kind of person to throw up their hands and call it quits after a wrench is thrown in their plans. Look at when they first fell down, for example; they faced literal death to get through all of the monsters they came across without harming a single one. Even monsters like Undyne, and Asgore, himself! They'd gotten the guy to cave in and stop fighting, and had him and Toriel be civil enough around one another to take Frisk under their respective wings as family.
As young as Frisk was, they had a heart and nerves of steel.
One little rejection wasn't going to make them give in just like that.
And if Sans thought he was screwed before, he didn't know what he was now.
Not a lot of hardcore shipping here, I know, but eh. I like to build up things when it comes with my ships, platonic or otherwise. Not sure if/when I'll get to that companion fic, but odds are it may not be for a little while yet. Still getting back into the groove of writing, but this week has been pretty helpful with that! I'm having a lot of fun with this :)
Thanks for reading!