Chapter Text
You still couldn't believe it - even two years after an entirely new civilization emerged on the back of (what else but) humanity's failures. It made you feel so horrible to think of them trapped down there for years and years, entire lifetimes going by - and so you tried to comfort yourself by reminding yourself that they were finally free.
Even if the government was still very twitchy about it all (good old America, right?), they still couldn't do much when most of the world was on the monster's side. Well, they can try (and you have no doubt they still do) but it never really worked.
If only the government was as spectacular a failure whenever its people made up their minds to steal from whoever wasn’t them.
But for all the horribleness of the government and the people who occupied it, at least you could count on most everyday people to pick up their slack when it came to welcoming all the new citizens! It had been truly wild that very first day: thousands of tweets in English that first hour (lots of Area 51 memes too, if you can believe it) then it started spreading and spreading and it wasn't long before news stations all over the world were verifying the news long before any speeches had time to be made.
It didn't really take as long as you thought it would, monsters gaining full rights - but maybe part of it had to do with the fact that… most humans loved monsters? Or, well, maybe not loved. Maybe more, were fascinated by? Curious? But not in a creepy way! Any time you took a walk down a street it wasn't unusual to see a human passing a monster with a smile, or monster and human parents sitting and watching their kids together at the park. For as worried as you'd been (as you think everybody had been), you're really, really glad things turned out this way.
It still kind of blew you away whenever you briefly encountered a shopkeeper who had fur or a dogwalker who was a dog: monsters are amazing.
Even if they hadn't introduced a plethora of safe foods, basically created a new financial system, or even solved the environmental crises taking place all over the world (trees never even got the chance to burn) - without all of that, you would still admire them.
It's not your fault, but it is the fault of the human mages that came before you. And if it’s anything that can make you truly angry, it is injustice like what the monsters lived through. You don't really know what you can do, but.
You want to give back to the monsters some of what they never had a chance to have. And it doesn't really make sense, but you're fired up about it anyway.
When you get home from work today, you resolve to start looking into ways to help.
Your feet ache but you're in a good mood when you reach your apartment complex. That's your usual status these days, and you fall into it like you fell into an easy routine at work. All of your muscle pain goes away for a few moments as you reach your door only to find a skeleton monster wearing what looks to be thigh high boots and (armor?? of all things?). Their back is towards you but before you can contemplate the boxes on the floor before them, they turn around quick as anything to face you, white eyelights tracking your every move.
You almost squeak, but you're much too quiet a person for that, so instead you just stand there for a few awkward seconds before looking them straight in the eye (sockets?) and saying, "Hi. Are you my new neighbor?"
They look you up and down… slowly, and then they just. Sort of frown and respond to your question with a simple, "YES." For some reason, even if their voice isn't particularly loud, you have the feeling they talk in all caps anway. (Their voice is smooth with a bit of a rasp, and it's. It's kind of relaxing to hear.)
Another few moments pass by, and they're still watching you very, very intently. But it's not… unnerving?
Maybe it's supposed to be, but you're really not feeling it. So you ask them if they'd like some help moving those boxes, and your new skeleton neighbor nods silently and goes inside without waiting for you. Internally shrugging, you stack two medium heavy boxes and enter an identical living space to yours, except this one has two extra bedrooms. You wonder if they're planning on renting.
High Heels soon returns to direct you where they want all their stuff, and it only takes ten minutes to get everything inside. You think of offering to help them unpack, wonder if that's too weird, but they hand you a cup of tea and before you know it, you're sitting across your new neighbor in a very bare and very clean kitchen.
They'd silently put down a plate of little Cinnabunnies, and you take one while saying thank you, and then after eating (a very delicious pastry) you take a sip of what seems to be entirely sugarless tea that has the very faint flavour of lavender. You almost smile.
High Heels looks away when you look up, but you catch a very faint ease on their face. Had they been worried you wouldn't like the tea?
The two of you drink in silence, but you decide to break it after a while. You have a single, burning question that won't leave you alone. You put a hand on the table and they tilt their skull, eyes sharp.
"What's your name?"
They seem to almost puff up, and they look at you with a quiet pride and a certain mischievous smirk as they say, "SANS, OF COURSE. AND YOU, HUMAN?"
You tell them, and the both of you take a sip of tea. You look down into an empty cup and Sans tilts their skull in a silent question that turns into what looks like thrilled vindication as soon as you nod, your please more of a whisper. You’ve always not been able to help being so soft spoken.
They bring back more tea for the both of you, and after you take another drink, Sans the skeleton asks you a question: would you like to come over again tomorrow?
You suppose that's a no on unpacking (kind of a relief), and as you look at your new neighbor, all sharp edges and dangerous eyes, you're struck by the thought that they look lonely; sitting there at a too clean table in a too clean kitchen, with the evening sun from the windows catching on them just like that.
There is a melancholy here. But there is someone who looks at you and doesn't mind your company, someone who asks you for more.
Sans looks at you like they're expecting the worst and hoping for absolutely nothing, and that more than anything makes your next words come out fierce. "I would love to," you say to them, and you mean it.
They blink at you, and then give you a smile in return for your words. It feels a little like 'thank you', and it feels wonderful.
Before you leave, Sans gives you their number, and you're glad, because you know you never would have asked for it, or at least not so soon. As soon as you flop down on your bed, you change their name from simply 'SANS' to something a little more appropriate.
'Tea Friend' sounds nice and comforting, and so you laugh a little to yourself at how bad you are at naming things and decide to keep it. You also add a little black heart at the end, because you’re never getting over those thigh highs. (They're too cool.)
After spending a few hours relaxing reading but before you head to bed, you shoot your new friend a text.
'Good night! See you tomorrow! :D'
Their reply comes barely a minute after yours.
'VERY WELL. >:)'
You have to smile at their reply, because… what? Who replies like that to a good night?? It's endearing, and Sans's texting style fits them to a tee.
You forget to look up local food donations for monsters in need. But you end up dreaming about being chased down a never ending hallway - a dream that's familiar to you.
You wake up wanting to smile.
The next afternoon, after work and after changing into more comfortable clothes, you knock on Sans's door and wait. You'd already texted them the time you got off today, and so hopefully they've had enough time to prepare for… whatever this social interaction ends up being. A normal hang out?? It’s too bad you don’t really have any experience with those, you think to yourself, internally laughing.
Sans opens the door exactly one minute after you knock (you are a habitual time checker), and they look excited. They've exchanged their spiky armor and thigh highs (nooooo!!) for something a little softer: a loose black turtleneck that looks to be two sizes too big (ah. A monster of culture) and pressed grey jeans, along with these beautiful and delicate gloves lined with lace, different from yesterday's. They look good!
They look away from you for a moment before turning back, blushing… a slight mauve?? It’s so pretty that you don’t even realize you complimented them out loud before they invite you in, a slight assertiveness to their person that wasn’t there yesterday. You feel your cheeks heat up a bit because you are naturally very warm blooded (that is all this is) and a bastion of absolutely no emotion. You follow them into their home, and have to stare in wonder.
What had been bare before is now full of miscellaneous furniture, decorations, and knick knacks. A very nice leather couch sits before a plush and colorful rug with little bones on it (too cute!!). A respectable flat screen TV on the other side, and a few dark cherry wooden end tables are here and there for flavour. Then you see the framed pictures on the wall (one is just a bone, but the other is a pretty landscape!) and you turn sparkling eyes over to Sans, who’s been watching you this whole time and wow, how embarrassing. You didn’t mean to gawk. But they look happy, even happier when you bashfully say that their home is beautiful.
“Ah!” You exclaim softly, sending an apologetic look towards your neighbor. “I’m so sorry for not asking yesterday, but what are your preferred pronouns?”
Sans straightens up and sends you an unreadable look before smirking. “HMM, I FORGOT HUMANS DIDN’T… NO MATTER! YOU MAY REFER TO ME AS HE, HUMAN.” He extends a gloved hand to gesture at you, almost like he was asking for a dance. “AND YOU?” Oddly enough, there is a knowing look in his eyes, as if it’s an unnecessary question. Certainly he hasn’t used gendered language for you yet, but it could be that monsters just have a way of telling. They can see souls, after all.
You smile at him. “Oh, thank you for asking! I’m… good with they, he, and it. Feel free to use any of those.” He simply nods, elegant as he insists you sit down while he fetches the both of you ‘A NEW BLEND I’VE BEEN WANTING TO USE FOR QUITE SOME TIME!’.
It’s a weight off your shoulders, the way he just accepted it. You’re not exactly surprised, seeing as how monsters are so much more tolerant and compassionate compared to humans, but there’s always that little piece of you that’s waiting to be disappointed. It’s not even as if you’ve ever experienced anything like that - you have a wonderful, accepting family, even if you’ve never been out among co-workers - anywhere you’ve worked. But it’s easy to be anxious, with all the accounts you hear from people on the internet. Usually, it’s just easier for you to hide it. But… you’ve been trying to be braver, lately.
Sans’s easy answer and question just serve to make you that much more comfortable with him. You relax into the firm couch and listen to the faint humming coming from the kitchen.
When Sans comes back out with a tray holding both a tea set and various pastries, you make to get up to help, but he merely has to cock his skull at you twice (much to his exasperation) before you’re watching him set everything up quickly and efficiently.
“IT IS MY DUTY AS YOUR HOST TO SERVE YOU ALL OF THE EXCELLENCE THAT IS IN HOSPITALITY!!” It takes you a moment, but then you wonder: was that a pun??
You try your best to stifle your snort, but his head still snaps back towards you in question. “Sorry! I just feel bad doing nothing to help, you know?”
He hands you a steaming cup of tea and raises a brow (bone?) at you. “IT IS YOUR DUTY AS MY GUEST TO PARTAKE IN THE VARIOUS FESTIVITIES GENEROUSLY PROVIDED.”
You gigglesnort, and although he looks at you like he’s on to you, he continues. “BEHOLD!” And he actually waits for your eyes to settle on your tea cup and then back onto him before he keeps talking. Wow. “TODAY I HAVE BREWED FOR YOU THE ULTIMATE IN NEW ACQUAINTANCESHIP TEAS! WATER SET TO A LOW BOIL… AROMATIC LEAVES PROCURED FROM A DUBIOUS SOURCE! AND!! THE SPICES! TASTE THE SPICES, HUMAN. IF YOU DARE!” And he straight up just cackles at you, amusement in his eye sockets as you nearly choke to death on nothing. Wow. This guy… he’s really freaking cool. Like, here you are trying to play in the Friendship Little League, while this guy here, he’s just… off in the middle of the ocean snorkeling. The sheer Vibes coming off this guy are almost too much for you to handle, if you’re being honest. But you persevere.
He watches you with a smirk on his face but a drop of sweat drops down his neck as he watches you lift the cup to your lips. Slowly, ever so slowly, you drink. You look to him and he seems braced for whatever it is that’s going to come next.
“I’ve never had tea this spicy before, but it’s really good. It reminds me a little of honey ginger tea, but this one is really refreshing… I think it’s a new favorite of mine.” You smile. “It’s tealicious!”
Sans, smirk on his face, absolutely freezes, face now blank. Then, the next second he’d looking so pissed but he’s laughing loudly, gloved fist over his eyes like he’s trying to erase the memory of you from his mind. It just makes you laugh too.
“CURSES! I DESPISE PUNS, HUMAN. DESPISE THEM!” He can barely get his words out, and his raspy voice almost squeaks at the end.
“You’re laughing,” you tease, as if you’re any better.
Sans throws his hands up in the air and looks Done with you, glaring while his scowl wobbles dangerously. “I AM AND I HATE IT!”
Then the both of you just start laughing all over again, and it’s a few minutes after that before everything’s finally calmed down. Your heart feels light, and you like being here with Sans, drinking tea. It’s so relaxing - there’s no one to impress here, and you can just be yourself. In a weird way, even though he’s so put together and almost.. refined? Even though this is only the second time you’ve been over at his house, it all feels so easy.
You’ve heard of friends who just seem to click - you hope that’s what you and Sans can have.
The two of you make the Dreaded small talk that is so abundant out in the wild - Sans has a brother while you have a sister (“HE’S SUCH A LAZYBONES! HIS SOCKS ARE… A TRIAL!”), apparently he has a big family (“PAPYRUS IS CURRENTLY LIVING WITH SOME OF OUR COUSINS, HELPING WITH HOUSE REPAIRS…”) whereas it’s just you, your sister and your mother, really, you tell him. His favorite color is royal blue, which explains the rug, and you tell him yours is purple, which makes him smug for some reason. When it comes to jobs, you say you work at a small restaurant just a few miles down the road, and it’s at that point that Sans clenches his fists, looking ready for a fight. Um??
He inhales deeply before letting his words out in a single breath: “I’M GOING TO OWN A FLOWER SHOP!!!” His eye sockets are glowing faintly, an almost purple shadow behind them, and he looks simultaneously terribly proud and angry.
You want to reassure him, so you tell him, sincere, “I love flowers. You’ll have to give me the address once everything is all set up - I’ll be your first customer.”
His face crumbles and for just one moment, he looks terribly sad, like he can’t afford to believe you. Your heart aches, but before you can gather the nerve to say anything more, he visibly gathers himself and reaches for the tea, hands steady.
He drinks his tea in one single shot, like it’s alcohol, but you savor yours. It’s such good tea…
When he walks you to the door that day, he is as silent as yesterday and nods you goodbye silently - his eyes are distant, somewhere far away from you already.
He doesn’t ask you to come over tomorrow, or the next day, or the next day, or answer your good morning texts, but on Saturday, you send him a picture of a poppy, hoping you’re not overstepping.
‘IT’S TWO, ISN’T IT?’ He texts back after an hour, and you probably look like a fool with how giddy you are.
You text him back immediately: ‘How does twelve sound?’
‘ACCEPTABLE.’ is what he ends up sending back. You hit him up with the one true kaomoji.
‘(=^･ω･^=)’
His response makes you giggle helplessly: ‘(๑•̀ㅁ•́๑)✧’
Sans truly is a man of culture.