Chapter Text
He Doesn't Bite (Sans/Reader)
Chapter 1 – Steaks Shouldn’t Bleed
“Good afternoon! Great to see you again, ____!” You’re greeted by the nurse as you step into the blood bank bus. You’d completed all of the sign-up forms in the mall the bus is parked by, so the iron test is all that’s left before it gets drawn again.
This isn’t your first time donating blood, and it sure won’t be the last. With the emergence of monsters from the Underground to the surface a couple of years ago, a whole new body of science has been opened up to try to find cures for conditions and diseases. Therefore, with what monster scientists are capable of, there’s been a greater demand for blood donations than ever before.
A few months ago, you’d casually made the choice to help out with the cause. Monsters becoming part of society is something you’re completely happy with; you’ve never had an encounter with one that wasn’t peaceful and enjoyable. After your first donation some time back, you’d been contacted and told that your blood was healthy enough to be put into use, and that they’d appreciate you returning, if possible. It only stings for a little bit, and you usually get free shirts and food vouchers for it, so you’d made habit out of returning every eight or so weeks, when the required time has passed.
If you get too caught up in your own thoughts, though, you won’t be able to focus on the questions the nurse is asking. You go through the same set as always, giving an honest answer of ‘no’ to all the disease questions. Once that’s been dealt with, she prepares your finger to have a drop of blood taken to test the iron.
“Thanks again for being here, ____. We really appreciate you wanting to help our causes this much.”
“Hey, it’s helping out good people, and I get free burgers for it. What’s there not to love?” Sharing a laugh, the familiar nurse takes the sample from your index fingertip, which might sting a little more than the donation itself. As always, it passes the test, and you’re directed to one of the long seats to lay back on in the bus, where your blood will be safely taken. Peering ahead, you see that the doctor taking it is the same monster as usual; a dog that walks on two legs, with a lab coat over its tank top. You’ve seen him smoke dog treats before when you were out on a walk, but it doesn’t seem to hinder his work.
“Hello! We’re ready to take your blood again! Remember, stay completely still!” The doctor has seemed to have a phobia for things moving when he doesn’t expect it, but that makes him a perfect doctor for doing a blood donation; no one wants to move and risk making him uncomfortable. Following his mandate to stay completely still, he prepares your arm with the usual skin cooler, as you can’t help but notice that he smells like burgers and fries. He must’ve taken a trip before arriving.
“Time to get it started! No moving… please.” He’s gotten better about saying please.
“You got it, Dr. Doggo.” You’re about to use the opposite arm to give a thumbs up, but think better of it. He does the usual needle procedure, which stings for a moment, but isn’t all that bad. Once it’s in, he hands you a rubber ball that looks an awful lot like a chew toy, and asks you to gently squeeze it to get the flow going.
While you do that for a few minutes, a floating horse… being… comes over and hands you a bag of cookies, as well as a can of soda.
“Have something sugary to fuel you back up ; )”
“Erm…. Thanks, Dr. Aaron.”
“No problem, you need that boost during your donation ; )” You make sure to not judge.
“Yeah, I appreciate it, I don’t wanna be too wobbly for the drive home.”
“Hope it’s a sweet snack and drink ; )”
Before he can go on, someone walking a dog strolls by the bus, so Dr. Aaron goes to the window to… flex at them. You’re not sure why he feels the need to do that, but at least that brought an end to the winking. You pull a cookie out of the bag, and see that the frosting’s being designed to look like some anime you haven’t watched. Anime distractions aside, it tastes really good.
Like Dr. Aaron said before his winks, the snacks are a good thing to replenish the sugars you’re losing from donating, so you eat and drink away at them, until your donation’s reached a pint. As per usual, Dr. Doggo gives your forearm a thorough wrap after removing the equipment, and recommends you leave it on for a few hours. He says you can sit down as long as you want to build your energy up with the snacks, as long as you let him know you’re getting up before you do.
“Something… happened once when someone got up without me knowing. You’d rather not know the details.” Nervously clutching onto the medical license that hangs outside of his medical coat, Dr. Doggo gives you your space, and you finish up the cookies and soda. Making sure to give him your warning, you cautiously step off the seat, not wanting to slip and end up donating blood a different way.
Thanking everyone for the clean job they did, you’re about to leave the bus, when someone in the front stops you.
“W-Wait! Er, I mean, would you be okay with hanging on for a minute?” You’re approached by Dr. Alphys, the leader of your region’s blood donations. She was one of, if not the top scientist in the Underground before the Barrier was destroyed, and you happen to reside in the same area as her. Having her apparently be the supervisor for today’s donations is an honor.
“Sure thing, whaddya need?” Dr. Alphys looks out the window for a moment and scratches her face a bit, before turning back to you.
“You’ve actually been our most frequent donator since we started… ____. It’s ____, right?” You nod your head, and she continues.
“W-Well, we’d like to invite you to a celebratory dinner tonight we’re having for some of our top volunteers. With how much you’ve helped, we thought you’d deserve to come, too. T-They’re all kind people, I promise!” She seems a bit alarmed at herself for not telling you that sooner.
“Don’t worry, I wasn’t worried about that at all. You’d really wanna do that for me?”
“Of course! You’re helping make our society all the better. If you’ve got the time around 8 tonight, we’d really like to do this to show our thanks.”
“Sure thing! Where’s it at?”
“That new steakhouse just a few miles down the road. It’ll all be on us, you can get whatever you’d like.”
“I’ll definitely be there. Thanks a bunch, I’m sure I’ll enjoy.” You shake hands, but before you leave, you think to bring up something else.
“Oh, kudos to whoever made those cookies. They tasted great, and the design was real cool, even if I don’t know what it’s from.”
“O-Oh, thank you! It’s from an anime called Mew Mew-” She stops and makes a nervous blush, realizing she just gave away exactly who made the cookies.
“...Eheheh, I can t-tell you about it at the dinner later! If you’d like!”
“Of course. See you there, Dr. Alphys!”
“J-Just Alphys is fine, too! We’re eating out, titles aren’t needed.” Making sure to remember that, you step out of the bus, reminding yourself to not eat or drink anything, aside from some more sugary drinks, before you go to the steakhouse. You’ve heard nothing but good things about it, and want a full appetite for a fun night ahead.
Pulling into a close spot in the parking lot, you step out of the car and take a good breath of the warm August air in. You’ve probably never met most of these people, so you’re hoping long-time volunteers are fine with someone that donates once every two months showing up, but Dr… no, just Alphys, seemed excited. There’s probably nothing to worry about.
Going by how crowded the rest of the lot is, news of this new place has caught around quick. It’s your first time giving it a shot, so you’re hoping they make a mean steak. Locking your car behind you and stepping inside, you’re greeted to a loud wave of chatter from both monsters and humans. With your town’s close location to Mt. Ebott, the mountain that the monsters emerged from, there’s a denser monster population than the rest of the world’s gotten yet. You sure aren’t complaining; the diversity is something you’re very pleased to see.
You tell the man at the front desk that you’re here as part of the blood bank event, and he begins to lead you to a table, removing any risk of you having been bamboozled. There’s a big table set up on the left by some windows facing the mountainside, where Alphys, Aaron, and some humans you don’t recognize are seated. Alphys notices you right away, and immediately wants you to feel welcome.
“Ah! There’s ____! Glad you could make it!” There’s only two open seats left, so you take the one facing away from the window, wanting the whole crowd to know you’re paying attention.
“Erm… I hope you like steak. Seems like that’s one of the only kinds of things on the menu.”
“Oh, yeah, it’ll be fine. The stakes are low when the steaks are high.” That manages to get the rest of the group laughing, so you’re glad they’re open to some punning for the night.
For a few minutes, Alphys and the rest of the volunteers ask where you’re from, what kind of work you do, and those sorts of questions. They also take the time to share what they do; one keeps track of when boxes of donations safely deliver to the center, another handles phone calls people have about donating, and Aaron makes sure everyone has all the snacks they need (with a ; ) to boot), among other things.
After a bit of time passes, though, you realize that it’s 7:59, and a guest hasn’t arrived yet. Alphys takes a glance at her watch, and notices the same thing.
“Hey, Sans hasn’t shown up yet.”
“Huh, yeah, that’s surprising. A good meal’s always up his alley.”
“Yeah, he always enjoys something nice and meaty ; )”
Alphys must be very used to that last part, because she makes no notice of it. The name gets you a little curious.
“Sans? Like the font?”
“Yes, exactly. Really thought he’d be here by now.”
“whaddya mean? i’m right here.”
Alphys jolts to her side a bit, noticing that this ‘Sans’ is suddenly… right next to her? You didn’t see anyone entering the place, and now he’s right here. The others, on the other hand, don’t seem phased at all.
“Hey, Sans!”
“Sup, Sans.”
“Glad you made it in one piece ; )”
Getting over the shock of seeing someone appear out of thin air, you take your first good look at Sans, and…
And…
He’s a skeleton? One that volunteers for a blood bank?
…
And your heart thinks he’s pretty darn cute??
He’s about a head shorter than you, with a big smile that doesn’t open when he talks. His figure’s that of… well, a skeleton, and one that’s sort of short and a little chubby. Sans’ bones seem a little thicker than that of a human, though, going by his hands. You’re not looking at a set of bare ribs, though; he’s wearing a white tee shirt, a light blue hoodie over it, and some black athletic shorts with a white stripe. You can’t see his feet from where you’re sitting, but you’re sure there’s something equally comforting over them.
You aren’t kidding about the cute thing, either. Sans is the first and only living skeleton you can recall seeing before, and your heart seems to be really liking something about what you’re seeing. Maybe it’s that smile. There’s something about it that looks like it makes anyone that shares a room with him happy and at ease. The way his hands are stuffed into his hoodie pockets is cute, too, and…
You have to stop and get ahold of yourself. You’ve seen Sans for a whole ten, maybe fifteen seconds, and have only heard one sentence from him. If you want to think about someone like that, they need to be someone you’ve gotten to know better.
Managing to regain most of your senses, Sans shakes the hand of everyone else at the table, before going to the only empty seat that’s left. Coincidentally enough, it’s the one that’s facing right across from you.
“so, alphys, this is the donator you were talkin’ about?”
“Yup! Their name’s ____. They’ve been kind to us already, I’m sure you two will get along well.”
“alrighty, then. good to meetcha, ____. i’m sans.” Sans sits down in his seat and holds his hand across the table for you to shake it. You’re impressed by how considerate he’s been to each person to the table in just a couple minutes, and reach your own hand out to shake it.
Pffffffflllrrlrlrlrlrlrt.
“S-Sans, did you really do that to ____ already?”
“yup. consider it an initiation. welcome to the blood bank dinner, ____. try not to withdrawal too soon.” The rest of the table laughs, and you find yourself doing the same thing.
Talk about making a statement right off the bat. It’s… an equally adorable and baffling one. Not only did he seemingly break physics to give you a little prank right away, but he added a pun along with it! You really like puns, too!
“hope i didn’t give ya a heart attack with that. don’t think we’d be getting any more blood donations, if there’s no blood to be flowing.”
“Huh? Oh, right, right, the donations. Heh, yeah, you’d be way in the red without me.”
It’s rare for you to find someone with as much of an enjoyment for puns as yourself, so you’re more than happy to take the chance to share some. Yours gets Sans laughing for the first time tonight, in this warm, hearty sound that his almost-New York accent makes. Putting the now deflated whoopee cushion into his pocket, Sans scooches closer, with only down to the bottom of his ribcage being visible above the table.
“So, Sans, what do you do for the blood bank?”
“ah, nothing big. i help sort papers at the headquarters. gotta make sure the hospitals don’t get a bunch of donut order receipts, or anything like that.”
“Pfff, don’t downplay that, it sounds like an important job.”
“It is!” Alphys heard from across the table, and seems to want to pipe in.
“____ is right, Sans, you’re helping get everything where it needs to be. If it wasn’t a big deal, you wouldn’t be here right now!”
“ah, alrighty, if ya say so.” He turns his attention back to you.
“so, i, uh, guess we’re gonna be facing each other a lot. may as well do this newfangled thing called ‘talking’.”
“Pfff, good idea. Hmmm…” You’re not exactly what to ask first, when the other person’s a skeleton that suddenly appeared out of thin air, and already pranked you with a whoopee cushion.
“Do you, erm… have any big hobbies, Sans?”
“’dogging.”
“’Dogging?”
“yup. i sell hot-dogs every now and then downtown. guess i’m supporting a rival by eating here, but it’s the best way to see how juicy the competition is.” The puns seem like they’ll be a part of regular conversation, and you’ve got no problem with that at all.
“fellas, can i get a vote on if i make a mean ‘dog?” Everyone else at the table says yes immediately; even Dr. Doggo, despite that being a sudden movement to vote.
“I’ll have to get one myself, someday. A table full of doctors can’t be wrong.” Sans chuckles again, and you’re about to share your own hobbies, when the waitress suddenly comes by to take everyone’s orders. Most of the table goes first, until it’s your turn.
“Hmmm… I’ll have the porterhouse, please.”
“hey, that’s what i was thinking of. great tongues think alike.” Given how Sans’ mouth hasn’t opened once yet, you’re wondering if he even has a tongue, let alone how he eats. He orders it medium-rare, so you appreciate him not wanting his steak turned into a brick, as the waitress takes the menus from everyone.
With the menus gone, the chatter at the table resumes, and you start to bring up your own hobbies with Sans. Despite his joking demeanor, he pays attention to everything you cover, as well as giving his own input for how cool each thing is. After a bit, though, he takes a pause.
“hang on one sec. all this chatter’s gettin’ my mouth dry.” You’re not sure what makes a skeleton’s mouth more dry than usual, but decide not to ask, in case he gets that a lot. Sans reaches into his left hoodie pocket to get something, and you’re expecting it to be a bottle of water, but to your surprise, it’s a little bottle of ketchup.
“this’ll do the trick.” Opening the plastic cap, he sets the bottle on his teeth and starts drinking from it. Somehow, it all passes through the spaces between his teeth without a single drop going haywire, and he gulps it all down, despite not having a throat. Magic’s a wonderful thing.
“there we go. does the trick a heck of a lot better than water. you should try it sometime.”
“That’s… not a bad idea. I put it on enough stuff as is, it probably tastes good on its own.”
“ayy, ya like ketchup, too?”
“Of course I do. Tomato goodness goes great on whatever I wanna put it on.”
“alright, guess we’re friends now. i’d hafta ketchup on what the friend contract says, but liking the same condiment seems good enough to me.”
“Pfff, I’m cool with that. I’d be a real musturd if I said no.” You share a laugh, feeling any lasting nerve you had about dinner slip away. Sans must bring a lot of vibrancy to the blood bank.
“Have ya ever thought about getting into comedy? You’ve got me by the… well, you don’t have palms, but you get what I mean, and we’ve only known each other for, like, twenty minutes.”
“oh, i think about it a lot.”
“You do?”
“yup. ‘cause it’s one-a my side jobs. it’d be pretty bad if i didn’t think about it.”
“That’s great! I’m sure you do a fantastic job at it.”
“heh, thanks. i’m not one to pound my ribs over anything, but i do my best. there’s this one pub i stick to a lot, but maybe i can get something happening here. people can enjoy their meat and watch the least meatiest person in the world spit out jokes.”
“Heh, well, if they don’t like not having bones to play with in their steak, you’ve got ‘em all covered.” It times out well, because the waitress returns with a huge platter of sizzling entrees. Despite being… well, a dog, Doggo ordered the fanciest one of the whole table. Eventually, she gets to you and Sans.
“ayy, thanks. this looks fantastic.” His kind manners get your smile even bigger, as you’re handed your own steak afterwards. Sans and yourself might’ve ordered the same kind, but how you prep it goes entirely different; you spread a light Montreal seasoning over yours, while Sans takes the ketchup bottle from earlier and gives a hearty squirt over the top. You don’t mean to stare, but he catches you looking.
“i know, i know, this usually ruins a steak and all, but it’s sweet, and makes my bones happy.”
“Oh, I wasn’t judging, eat your steak however you want. Judging what a human wants to eat is never good, let alone a monster. If you’re happy, I’m happy.”
Geez. That demeanor of his is already getting you to make plenty of compliments.
“heh, thanks. there’s one steakhouse that did judge. coulda gotten mad, but the best way to make ‘em quiet is to not give ‘em any dough.” Bothered that anyone would get weird at your new pal for how he wants to eat, you ask him which place it was, and after he shares, you make a mental note to not bother going there again.
“anyhoo, if i ramble much longer, your steak’s gonna get cold.” Sans cuts a piece of his own steak, and holds his fork up in the air, like he’s giving a toast.
“to healthy blood.” Appreciating how blunt that was, you cut your own piece and say the same thing.
“To healthy blood.” You chow down on your first piece, and it’s immediately one of the best steaks you’ve had in a while, with plenty of juice and tenderness. This place definitely deserves the crowd it’s already got. Sans takes his own first bite as well, and to do so, he simply slaps the bite of meat over his teeth. Something makes it pull between the splits the same way his ketchup did, not leaving a speck over his mouth. The restaurant’s too loud to make out any chewing sounds, but you remind yourself to not think into how he eats too deeply; this isn’t some interrogation. The important thing is that going by his smile, he really likes what he’s having.
“hey, it’s our first meal together as buds. worth a fist pump.”
“Darn right, it is.” Setting your fork down, you give one to Sans, feeling the coolness of his fingers. It’s not something you noticed during the handshake, with how distracting the whoopee cushion was, but there’s something sort of calming about it.
Your conversation with Sans gets a lot quieter, as you each immerse yourselves in how fantastic the steaks are. Watching more of his bites is tempting, with how curious you now are for how a living skeleton goes about their daily doings, but you’re able to stop yourself. It’s only when you’re halfway through the steak that you realized you forgot to talk to much of the rest of the group after Sans arrived. They all seem happy with the talks they’re having, though, and Aaron is still taking opportunities to flex at anyone that looks remotely near him, so nothing seems wrong.
It doesn’t take long for everyone to be finished up. You make sure to thank Alphys for all this, while she’s busy pulling out a company card, and she assures you it’s no big deal.
“Again, thank you! You’re helping make our work go a lot easier.”
“If only you could’ve seen Undyne here, ____, there would’ve been plenty of romance tonight ; )”
Alphys stares at Aaron, unable to hold back a blush from what he said. This ‘Undyne’ must be someone that means a lot to her. You’d ask what he means, but you don’t want to interrupt while she’s paying the bill, so you turn your attention back to Sans instead.
“well, that was fun.”
“Heck yeah, it was. I got a tasty steak out of having a needle in me for ten minutes, and met another pun enthusiast along with it. You’ve got a ribeye socket for good steak tastes.”
“heh, you, too. we sure feel pretty full-et mignon.” Laughing together again, Sans looks down at the few bits that’re left on his plate, before his expression lights up.
“hey, i’ve got an idea. ya got anything goin’ on next weekend?”
“Don’t think so, why?”
“that’s when i help get the papers where they need to be at the headquarters. we’ve got a lot comin’ in this week, so if you’d wanna come volunteer, it’d help out a lot. it’s not boring, they play music and give us muffins.”
If anyone else was asking, you’d wonder if getting a meal beforehand was some way to maneuver you into saying yes to volunteering. You’re not getting any of that from Sans, though. There’s some extra excitement in his smile that you’d been seeing grow since you started talking, and it tells you how much he’d enjoy some more new friend company. There’s nothing in your mind that doesn’t want that, either.
“Totally. It’s a cause I already support, and I can’t turn down a good muffin.”
“oh, you’re not gonna be disappointed. everyone there would bleed to get one.” He says that while you’re standing up from your seat, and it almost sends you right back into it from the laughter. Alphys perks up again, stopping the punning from going longer.
“Thank you all for being here! Blood bus volunteers, see if you can be there on Monday. Another day, another… another…”
She doesn’t know how to finish. ‘Dollar’ isn’t exactly right for a non-profit.
“donation.”
“…Yes. Another day, another donation. I think you just gave us a new slogan, Sans.”
“my pleasure.” Stepping around the table, you’re about to head out, when Sans realizes something.
“oh, whoops. i better share my number, and the address of the hq. it’d be pretty bad if i didn’t voluntell you where to go.” You tell him your number, and he works on sending a text your way. A moment later, you feel a buzz in your pocket, so you pull you phone out to see if it’s him.
“welcome to sans messaging. fibia and tibia rates apply.”
The address is listed under that. Having the info is getting you excited to check the place out already. Together, you walk to the front doors, and in true double door fashion, you open the first door for him, and he opens the second one. The air’s gotten a little cooler since you came in, but it’s still a comfortable night with a clear sky.
“alrighty. i’ll see ya next week, ____.”
“You got it, Sans.” Before you turn to head to your car, though, Sans does something that catches you a bit by surprise, but in a completely good way. Reaching up, he gives a little pat on the back of your shoulder. The adorable part of it is with him being a little shorter than you, he has to reach his arm up to do it. Before you can thank him for how kind that was, he’s disappeared into the air again.
In just an hour or so, you’ve met a living skeleton for the first time, became his friend, thought he looks cute, and got a shoulder pat from him. If that’s not a complete night, you’re not sure what is.