Chapter Text
With soaked clothes and a sour attitude, you paced angrily into the closest bar. A group of young neanderthals had sped by you, splashing you with dirty gutter water as you attempted to walk home, so you weren’t the happiest of campers right now. Damn kids, you thought as the bar’s active atmosphere warmed you up. A couple of dog monsters regarded you with a few condescending sneers as they dabbled in their card games. You didn’t even give them the time of day as you slumped into the nearest barstool.
You look up solemnly from your seat to see a flaming bartender shooting you the stink eye. His quizzical glare literally and figuratively burned into your soul as he polished a glass. Fortunately for you, you were too pissed to be fazed in the slightest. “A beer, please. Don’t matter what brand. I ain’t got no allergies.” You said flatly.
His blue flames flickered as he stared you down, bemused. You took a glance at his nametag: Grillby. Ah, so he’s the owner of this place, huh? “Please...Grillby. It’s been a rough night.” You shifted in your seat, your jeans squelching comedically.
He gave you a sympathetic look before walking off. You only hoped that your drink would come shortly (or at all, even). All you wished to do was drown your sorrows with a pitcher or three of something strong.
“‘ey sweetheart, water you doin’ in a place like this?” A deep voice rumbled from beside you.
Was...was that a pun? “Oh just sulking. And y’know, burnin’ the midnight oil.” You sighed, keeping your sights forward. A part of you wasn’t in the mood for talking, but the other 95% wanted somebody to vent to.
“ah,” You could hear the man’s knuckles rap on the counter. “yo grillby! my usual, please.”
You could hear the flamesman scoff as a yellow bottle slid by you. Wait, what? Turning to your side, you see a skeleton man swipe the bottle from the bar table. You take a gander at his beverage and your face recoils. “Mustard?” You couldn’t stop yourself from asking aloud. Never had you considered mustard a drink of choice.
“yep. goes down smooth as a river, dollface,” With that, he takes a swig. “want some?”
“No, no thanks. I prefer my drinks alcoholic.” You smiled, pushing a strand of hair away from your face..
The skeleton man laughed. “suit yourself, sweetheart,” He takes another swig and your stomach flips. You wouldn’t ever be able to handle downing a packet of mustard, let alone a bottle. “‘ya got a name, love? or should i jus’ call ya’ mine?”
A cold bottle is placed in front of you as you rack your brain for a response. “Y/n. Its Y/n. Pleasure to meet ‘cha.”
“welp,” He reaches his hand out to you. “i'm sans. sans the skeleton, but most people jus’ call me red.”
Something about his skeletal hand beckoned you to hold it as you reached out yours. “Well Red, what made you wanna-”
PPPPFFFFFFFFTTTT!!!!
“...”
Red’s smile widened as the flatulent sound faded, but you also figured that he was amused by your confused expression. “ah, the old whoopie cushion in the hand trick. a classic.” What was he, five? “or should i say, a work of fart .”
You snorted. Okay, so maybe you had some low-brow humor in you as well. What’s it to you? “Oh stars, that’s awful!” To stop your less-than-civilized laughter, you placed the bottle to your lips and drank.
“but yer’ laughin’, doll,” His eye sockets crinkled with glee. How does that even work? “so that makes ya’ awful, too.”
“Perhaps so,” You smiled complacently as you leaned in, engrossed by the odd scent of mustard. “Guess we’re both awful people then, huh?”
Red smirked, satisfied with your interest as he twirled his now empty bottle around . “i’m alright with that, sweetheart. that’s just another thing we’ll have in common.”
Ohohoh~ “You talk to everybody you meet at the bars like this?” A light buzz was kicking in, giving you the cojones to flirt back a bit.
Red shrugged. “eh, only with the feisty ones i do.”
You tipped your drink appreciatively. “I’ll give you that, boneman. You’ve got good tastes.” You finished off the rest of the bottle, never letting your gaze leave his.
Red immediately tipped his bottle back at you. “heh, i’ll drink to that.” The two of you clink your now empty bottles together, sharing a bit of laughter.
.
.
It’s about to be one in the morning and the two of you were still talking- erm, well it was more of slurring than talking at this point. You were both well into your fifth drinks, giggling and leaning on each other like best buddies.
“Oh Sansy, you’re soooo funneh,”You said. “You shud be, like, a comedian or somethin’.” Your pinky coiled itself around Red’s as he chuckled tipsily.
“already am, sweetheart.” His other unoccupied hand wandered up your arm and slithers just beyond the fabric of your t-shirt. “yer’ mah best audience tho.” His fingers feel cool and smooth against your shoulder and you can’t help but lean into his touch.
“Thanks.” You simply giggled, more than happy to let him into your personal space. “I need a nap.”
You felt the world start to ripple around you as you gripped his forearms for balance. Your face ends up deep into the fluff of his hoodie and you inhale. It smelt sooo good, like pinecones and hotdogs and everything else great in this world. Your insides flutter and you smile, muttering about lord knows what into his hoodie. The last thing you felt were a pair of arms wrap around you intimately, stroking little circles on the small of your back.
“i’ve gotchu’, sweetheart.”