Chapter Text
It had been two years now since Sans and Papyrus had met, well, Sans and Papyrus; or rather several of both themselves and their brothers. But opting to stay in what had been dubbed the ‘master line’s had been a decision neither had really hesitated to make once the option was provided to them. And that was how this whole mess had started. Sans, Red, was more than proficient in reading his doubles face by now. The slight tic in Classic’s jaw was practically begging him to physically prod at it.
“A’igh Classic what's got yer panties in a bunch?” Red asked sipping on his second mustard bottle of the night, he’d shown up to the typical Grillby’s night early avoiding his Papyrus after an argument.
Sans popped the top on his own bottle and sighed, “Paps thinks we're dating, insists on it. Nothing I'm saying is getting through to him.”
Red dramatically draped an arm over his eye sockets, “You've been using me this whole time?”
Sans tossed a ketchup soaked fry at him across the table leaving a smear of the stuff on his face. Red sneered at it wiping it off with his jacket sleeve, “Seriously man, let it drop. ‘S not that big a deal. Let him think what he's gonna think, not really gonna change his mind if its set anyway.” He knew cause that was something both their brothers had in common, once they assumed something was a certain way it was hell trying to explain how they were wrong.
Sans huffed and shoveled a few fries off the plate and into his face. Red rolled his eyes, somewhere between shitty jokes and bumming smokes off each other, the two of them had genuinely become fairly close friends. Hell Red wouldn't be opposed to actually dating his counterpart- did he really just think that? Eh might as well go for broke.
“Who says he's wrong?” The blue that flashes into Classics face was actually a rather pretty shade. Red wondered how much darker he could get it to go. The deer in the headlights look was fascinating, had Red ever actually looked like that?
“I mean if you can't beat ‘em might as well join ‘em, right?” Red grinned.
Sans blinked at him, “Don't be an asshole Red.”
“I’m serious. How much different would it really be than now? Add in a little touching here and there and nothing else would really change anyway.”
Sans looked at him dazed for a few seconds, “I, uh, guess you're right…”
Red really did poke at the nervous tic in the others jaw then, “Quit freaking out Classic. Not reason when he ain't wrong.”
The rest of the night went exactly how they normally did. One or both of them would be tipsy by the time they left, Grillby would be almost suck of the puns for the night and glare at them with crossed arms as he held the door open. The only real difference was that they left hand in hand.