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“ok, are you just followin’ me around at this point? didn't know you, heh, card about me that much.”
You jumped, dropping the card you held in hand, swerving around to see Sans looking at you with a skeptical expression. He was dressed up in all red; a strange burst of colour for him.
Of course he works at Target. Why wouldn't he? He works everywhere else.
“Hey, Sans,” you sighed, bending over to pick up the card. “Wouldn't take you for the grocery store type.”
He shrugged, smirking. “tryin’ somethin’ new.” You sat back up, wiping the dirt off the card that it collected from the floor as Sans leaned to the side and glanced at your hands. “an’ i wouldn't take you for someone ta buy a card.” He stopped to think for a moment, shoving his hands into his pockets. “actually, i would. you’d jus’ make a mess tryna make somethin’ yourself.”
You glared. “Ouch? That may be true, but that doesn't mean you have to say it…” You mumbled, setting the card back in its slot.
“sooo, what's the occasion?”
Raising an eyebrow, you glanced down at him. “What do you mean? It's a holiday! Plus,” you gestured around the card aisle, “there's signs and marketing everywhere.”
“m’not a very observant guy.”
“I somehow doubt that,” you said, rolling your eyes. After a moment, you looked away and continued. “It’s father's day. I did make my dad something, but I thought it’d be weird if I didn't get anything to go with it. Hence the cheesy card.”
When you looked back over at Sans, his face looked oddly solemn, making you immediately drop the sassy attitude.
“Woah, hey, you okay?”
Sans smiled, averting his attention back to you. “yeah, fine. just thinking about something. speaking of which,” he sang, bouncing on his heels. “i found a new joke yesterday i thought you’d like. okay, how’s a jewish guy make his coffee?”
You squinted in suspicion. “You know, you’ve never really mentioned your parents.”
The lights in Sans’ eyes wavered and for a split second, you could see a look of pain flash over his face.
But he quickly recovered. “heh, jeez, you're supposed to say ‘how?’”
After a moment of hesitation, you asked him how a jewish guy makes his coffee.
“he-brews it,” he chuckled to himself, nervously looking to the side. “gets me every time. got a few more coffee ones, but they’d be funnier at the shop.”
Despite what you thought better, you decided to push it more. “Who is Mr. The Skeleton? If he's anything like you, I’d love to meet him.”
“i’m nothing like him,” Sans snapped darkly, catching you off guard.
Suddenly, all curiosity was drained from your body and quickly replaced with guilt. You quickly spat out words, hoping to say something redeeming. “Oh god, shit, sorry, I should've realized you might be mad at him or not good terms or oh my god is he dead shit you probably don't wanna think about that ok just forget I said anything and maybe this was a little fucked up of me but--”
“kid,” he interrupted lightly with a sideways smirk, making you shut up. “can't really be mad. it's not like he was ever really around for me to form an opinion of him, am i right?” he laughed at himself, quickly clearing his throat at the look of horror on your face. “look. i just ain't a real holiday type of guy.”
“God,” you buried your face in your hands. “I should have just left it. That was really shitty.”
He shrugged. “dun sweat it.”
There were a few moments of deafening silence before you quietly broke it.
“...Why are men like coffee?”
Sans slowly looked over at you. “is that my cue to ask a deep question?”
You met his gaze. “No. You’re supposed to ask ‘why?’”
“‘why’ it is then.”
“Because the best ones are rich, hot, and keep you up all night.”
After a moment, you were relieved to hear a snicker.
“okay, that’s pretty good.”
“What do you mean? I’m ashamed to have had that come out of my mouth.” You said sarcastically.
“if you think that’s bad, do i got a joke for you.”
“Try me.”
“okay, so I guy walks into a bar….”