Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was long past midnight in this corner of the Underground, and yet the inhabitant of this room was a long way from sleep. His pen moved quickly, then stopped while fast eyes scanned the text. Logic weighed the words, pros and cons flashing past at lightning speed. He hoped his exhaustion wasn't influencing his decision making. He didn't have the time for the luxury of sleep. Lives depended on this paperwork getting done. 

Sans rubbed his sockets. A splotch of ink marred his slightly greyed skull. It wasn't the first. It wouldn't be the last. 

His brother slept fitfully a few feet away. Papyrus had helped him for hours, but the King couldn't afford to look sleep deprived. At least he had only ever needed a few hours a night to be refreshed. It was easy enough to convince him to rest that long. Sans just hoped he never learned that Sans wasn't sleeping too. He'd definitely have a few words to say about that. 

It's funny, but for all the times Sans had hated his brother for calling him lazy, Sans now had an hour where he didn't sleep so that the Underground wouldn't die. He missed the old days. He didn't have to do much of anything. Now he did just about everything. And his reward was more work. 

Sometimes he wondered why he didn't ask his brother to get him some help. Unemployment was a problem, after all, and most of this stuff was pretty simple. He was fairly sure there were a hundred monsters who could do this job better than him. But if he did that, his brother might decide he didn't need him. And Sans didn't know if he could survive that. 

So he'd be here, working through the night, until he couldn't continue. He hoped that day (or night) would never come. 

“Your Majesty, might I have a word?”

Papyrus paused in his diligent efforts to show the blue bunny from Snowdin the proper way to stir spaghetti sauce. The busy kitchen he himself oversaw never seemed to have an end of new employees. It brought tears to his eye how much enthusiasm and dedication they brought to their work. But even the most excited needed a bit of instruction. 

“OF COURSE! THE GREAT AND ROYAL PAPYRUS ALWAYS HAD TIME TO SPEAK TO HIS CITIZENRY! SPEAK AWAY.”

The monster in question, a well-dressed ocelot who looked somewhat uncomfortable standing on the saucy floor, coughed delicately. 

“It is... Somewhat of a delicate subject, your Majesty.”

“AH,” Papyrus had learned that this was a roundabout way of asking him to leave the room and speak in private. Annoying, but true. “PERHAPS WE COULD SPEAK IN THE LIVING ROOM?”

The ocelot looked pained but still nodded, “Excellent.”

Papyrus led the monster through the busy kitchen and into the main house. Once inside, the cleaner, calmer surroundings seemed to put them at their ease. They settled into a chair with very little ceremony; their tail provided the only difficulty. 

“Thank you for seeing me. I appreciate the gift of your time.”

Papyrus smiled. It wasn't a real smile, but the one he developed to deal with courtiers. He didn't like courtiers. Unfortunately, they seemed to like him. Sans said he couldn't order them away, so the fake smile was born. 

“IT IS NOTHING. PLEASE, CONTINUE WITH YOUR SPEAKING. I WISH TO KNOW WHAT IT IS THAT BROUGHT YOU HERE TODAY.”

The ocelot coughed again. Perhaps he had a cold? 

“Of course. First, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Variegate Klearsworthy. I have been elected to represent the oldest families of Monsterkind. After much deliberation,” Papyrus decided this meant arguing, “we have decided what the best form is for our support to take. There are secretaries and clerks trained by all our families who would be delighted to aid the crown in any way you see fit.”

“OH! HOW WONDERFUL! I AM SURE THEY WILL BE QUITE THE HELP.” 

Sans would hate it, but Papyrus had seen the bags under his sockets. He'd also seen the ink splotches on his brother's cheek. Sans needed help, or else his brother would never get any sleep.

“Splendid. Shall tomorrow be a convenient time for them to begin?”

Papyrus nodded so vigorously his teeth rattled, “PERFECT.”

Chapter Text

Sans sat at the desk that had been supplied for him a few months ago. He stared out at the room full of busy pens that was now his domain. He glanced morosely at the pet rock that now lived on the stack of papers he absolutely had to see.

It was mostly of his own making. One clerk each was dedicated to writing letters from all Pap’s dead friends. Sans insisted on signing them himself, despite the growing pains in all of his joints. He knew he was doing himself no good, but he didn't care.

He really should take his brother aside and explain where his friends really were. It was just... He couldn't stand seeing his brother cry. And if he told him, he knew his brother would cry. Paps was already exhausted by being the Hope of the Underground. Learning the truth would just be another burden. 

It was just like old times, really. Sans would do anything to hide the darker parts of their world from his brother. From Undyne’s intention to never let him join the guard, to the fact that everyone in town disliked his outfits, Sans would never let anything bring his brother down. Even his own pain was carefully hid.

The short skeleton pulled the top letter off of the stack and began to read. If the letter was a bit closer to his skull than it had been in times past, well, no one here was likely to notice.

#

Papyrus was in the garden when his personal secretary found him. He very much liked the monster. The black flame was not only kind, but he had a way of handling courtiers that the King knew he would never develop. He was also discreet, which made him the perfect monster to keep Papyrus’ little secret. 

“HELLO CHARK. DO YOU HAVE THE ESTIMATES FOR THE NEW MEMORIALS YET?”

“I do indeed. The costs will be well within the tomato budget, and with a little finagling they can be hidden easily.”

Papyrus smiled, the expression far more worldly than the ones he showed his brother. Sans meant well, but realistically it was impossible for him to hide the horrendous death toll from Papyrus for this long. He was the king, after all. 

So when the news had finally reached him he'd spent the next day locked up in his bedroom with a “cold” that kept Sans away from his side while he let his grief overtake him. Tear-soaked sheets freshly in the wash, Papyrus dedicated all his free time for the next week to designing memorials to all of the fallen in every sector of his new land. Now the construction could finally begin. 

“THANK YOU SO MUCH. I AM SURE HAVING PUBLIC MONUMENTS WHERE THEY CAN EXPRESS THEIR GRIEF WILL BE A GREAT COMFORT TO THE POPULACE. IF NOT, IT WILL AT LEAST HELP US MOVE ON FROM THIS TRAGIC EVENT.”

Chark smiled, “I believe you are right. On another note, the clerks in the office inform me that Sans’ health is still deteriorating. They do everything they can to keep work off his plate, but even signing the letters appears to hurt him.”

Papyrus’ smile turned into a frown. Despite everything he could think of, his brother seemed to be failing. His health had never been that good. It was even worse now. If Pap had been able to, he'd convince his brother to move back to Snowdin and take it easy. He knew it was a hopeless attempt. 

“WE'LL HAVE TO HOPE SOMETHING WILL CHANGE. MY BROTHER IS FAR TOO STUBBORN TO LISTEN TO REASON.”

His secretary frowned. He'd grown fond of both skeletons, and the thought of one of them hurting didn't appeal to him. 

“I'll see if I can comes up with something. Perhaps a survey of the Snowdin trap fields?”

Papyrus sighed, “MAYBE. I THINK THE WALKING MIGHT TAKE A TOLL ON HIM. LET'S BRAINSTORM A LITTLE BIT BEFORE WE JUMP INTO ANYTHING.”

Chark nodded his head, hiding his smile beneath his black flames. His king was growing more and more into the monarch Monsterkind needed. His brother would be proud of only he could see. Of that, he has no doubt. 

* * *

Chapter Text

It was one of the younger clerks who came across the missive. He and his bunny sisters were charged to sort through every piece of paper that came into the office. With nearly a hundred desks occupied 24 hours a day, it was an onerous task. But their job was essential in defense of The Goal. They'd rather dust than let too much paper reach his Majesty’s brother. It wouldn't be right. 

This missive was written in the florid script that marked a note from one of the Elder Families. As such, he should have passed it on immediately to Miripi, the pink cat who ran the courtly doings without mishap. But a few words caught his eye. He decided that only one person could deal with something like this. He stood up and made the trek through the gauntlet of stares up to Sans.

"hey, kid," Sans said softly when he arrived, oblivious of the stares, "whatcha got there?"

The clerk gulped, "A l-l-letter."

Sans looked down kindly on him. "why don't you hand it over, then? i'm sure you're busy. i can read it myself. promise."
“It's in c-c-code, sir,” This was a phrase the staff used whenever a message contained complicated handwriting that might strain Sans’ sight, “Do you want m-m-me to, uh, read it?”

The skeleton nodded. He was quite good at codes, but the staff seemed to prefer to translate for him. It used to bother him, but now he was coming to rely on them more and more. 

The rabbit cleared his throat,and slipped into the practiced tones of recitation trained into him, “Ahem. Your Magnificence, King Papyrus. I hope this letter finds you in good health. I am quite happy the staff we have lent you have worked out so well. The efficiency of your governance has improved noticeably.”

Sans winced. He knew he'd done a horrible job managing the paperwork, but was it really that noticeable? He should have told Papy to hire more staff ages ago. 

“Because your Majesty is so invested in the welfare of his kingdom, we are sure that he is aware of the traditions of the office. It has been some time since your Majesty took office, and yet we have heard no word of an official bonding.”

Oh no. There was no way some fancy-talking courier was going to force his brother into bonding. After that disastrous date with the human Pap and he had discussed things, and Paps had zero interest in being forced into a commitment until he decided he was ready to try again.

“We are aware of your Majesty's preferences, and after much deliberation the representatives of the oldest families have come to a proposition.”

Heh. ‘much deliberation’. Sans knew what that meant. Shouting and screaming had definitely been involved. Still, he wondered what kind of a conclusion these monsters had come to. Probably something awkward, given the look on the kid's face.

“For the next six weeks the oldest families shall be hosting a ball in the grounds of the Hotland Massacre Memorial Hotel from five onward.”

Wait, what? He definitely hadn't authorized that. Had the locals renamed the MTT Resort without a proper permit? He definitely had to get to the bottom of this. 

“We hope that you and your brother will take the time out of your busy schedules to come and join us. During this time all of the eligible members of our families shall make themselves available to you. During this time we hope that you two will decide upon which monster or monsters will be bonded to your brother and made heir.”

Sans brought the entire room to a halt with a coughing fit loud and ugly enough to shake the rafters. Concern blanketed him like the barrier blanketed the Underground. 

“Are you alright sir? I can run and fetch a healer if-”

“finish reading it.”

The entire room shuddered under that voice. It has the gravity and intractability of Mt. Ebott behind it, with none of the latter's warmth. None envied the young rabbit for having to stand up to it. 

The monster in question gulped and nodded. The coughing having subsided, he resumed speaking, this time with a far less confident tone.

“This bonding will tie your family to the oldest in the land. This tying will bring added weight to your ruling. It will give you backing and support beyond what you have hitherto experienced. It may calm certain factions whose confidence in the vote is less than immense.”

Well, Sans had to respect the political analysis at least. Everything they mentioned was true, if a bit glamorized and optimistic. It was clear to him that these families had been testing the waters when they sent in the clerks. Also, probably gathering data. But now they had decided to really throw their weight in, and this was their solution. Cerebrally, he appreciated it. Emotionally, he was at sea. 

“We are under the impression that your brother has never dated. We hope these events will give him the chance to explore his options. We would not want to place undue burden on him.”

Heh. That was true. No one had ever wanted Sans that way. Why would they? He was lazy. He was weak. He was devoted to his brother. None of these were traits a mate would want. Sans had decided that long ago, and taken himself out of the running to save everyone the trouble. The opportunity to be an heir of the Underground might be enough to overcome even that, but he doubted it. These poor monsters probably hadn't been told. Boy were they in for a surprise.

“We are aware of his worsening condition,” what, “and our family physicians will be on hand should anything occur. When you or his future partner or partners can convince him to see them, they will be available to him at any point from now onwards.”

Sans closed his sockets. Heh. Seems he wasn't the actor he thought himself to be. Good thing he'd never joined the stage. He couldn't even fool himself. He knew that what he was living with wasn't within the bounds of good health. Heck, he'd never been in good health. He'd never had the opportunity. Guess he shoulda hauled his shaking bones over to a doc years ago. It just never seemed like a good moment.

“From our preliminary reports these esteemed individuals have postulated that many of his conditions may be the result of the disadvantaged childhood you yourself have spoken of in your rousing speeches. Malnutrition, sleep deprivation, and exposure can leave lasting effects if not properly treated.”

Crud. Was Pap gonna be okay? They'd lived without a proper home for years. Yeah, Sans had given Pap all the food he could scrounge up. Yeah, he left him in whatever shelter he could find while he was out at all hours looking for work. But that was still so far from the happy, normal childhood he deserved. 

“Thanks to your robust figures, they have been able to devise an estimate for a healthy skeleton monster of his age.”

Oh. Good. Pap was fine. He wasn't neglecting his health like his older brother. What a horrible example Sans was to everyone. And apparently they knew. Great.

“This allowed them to build a basic regime which should bolster his health considerably. The details can be finalised once a more detailed picture of his health can be obtained. Reduction of stress and closer personal ties are of the essence. We hope that the introduction of a mate or mates as well as the honeymoon traditional after a bonding will provide both.”

Wait, who said they could take him away from Papyrus? His brother needed him! He wasn't stressed, and he had plenty of... Okay, no. His only friend at this point was his brother. Everyone else was dead.

“We hope this proposal meets with your approval. Signed by, as always, your servant, Variegate Klearsworthy.”

When echoes of the name died away, tense silence reigned supreme. No pens were scratching. No mouths were meeting. All eyes were on Sans. Every SOUL was beating frantically. They did not want their kind, adored, sticky skeleton to die.

Sans wasn't moving. Not even the top of his little finger was twitching. His bones were still as his mind raced under the burden of all that had been dropped on him. 

He had failed. That was what he was thinking. He had failed his brother, and now he was being sent away. The politics were just a thin excuse to get him out of the way. Paps would probably be glad he was gone. 

That wasn't right, the healthier part of his SOUL cooked up. His brother loved him. He was worried about him, Sans had seen it himself. He was worried about the kingdom. This would help both. He shouldn't be so negative. 

He couldn't help but doubt it though. His brother seemed to have found out about the massacre. Maybe he was angry for keeping it from him. Heck, Sans was reading and signing letters from his dead friends to this day. Papyrus had to resent him for treating him like a kid. 

Under the pressure of all those doubts and more as yet unformed, his rational side loudly shouted: Ask Pap. Before he could talk himself out of it, Sans had snatched the letter from the stunned clerk and teleported away. 

Chapter Text

Papyrus, King of the Underground, was sitting with his back to the palace and his sockets fixed on the Barrier. He wasn't speaking. He wasn't really thinking, either. He was holding vigil. He'd been doing so for an hour a day ever since he learned of his friends’ deaths. He'd long since given up the notion that the human, or even his friends, might one day walk back through. 

It was never going to happen. 

What did appear before him today was his older brother. He didn't stick the landing on the rocky dirt. He ended up half on his back right next to Papyrus’ knees. The king reached out one long arm and righted his brother. Sans was panting, and observant sockets detected a whole body tremor. His left hand held a piece of paper like he wanted it as far away from him as possible, and yet also wanted to hide it under his shirt. His eye lights were fuzzed out with worry. 

Papyrus took the offending paper with one hand and squeezed his brother's calmingly. He knew better than to try and talk to his brother about whatever was worrying him until he'd finished reading. The reason was probably in the paper, anyway. He squinted at the familiar, elaborate handwriting. He started to read. 

Well, he could see why his brother was in such a tizzy. This letter hadn’t been meant for his eye sockets; whoever had showed it to him was going to be in considerable trouble very shortly. This letter held nothing back, not the improvements that came with the staff, not the renamed hotel Papyrus had designed a brand new lobby for, not the pushing towards a Royal Heir, not Sans’ health - nothing. It was the worst possible way for Sans to have found out.

“SANS-”

“have i been that much of a burden on you pap?”

The king frowned. Where had Sans gotten that impression?

“NO.”

Sans’ eye lights blew wider.

“no?”

“NO,” Papyrus’ tone was absolutely firm, “YOU HAVE DONE NOTHING BUT HELP ME, BROTHER.”

Sans’ skull turned away, keeping his eye sockets from Papyrus’ line of sight.

“really? cause that’s not the impression i’m getting. the clerks-”

“ARE TRAINED TO DO WHAT YOU WERE NOT. OF COURSE THEY ARE MORE TO THE OLD FAMILIES’ TASTES. THEY DO THINGS IN THE WAY THEY ARE USED TO. THERE ARE ALSO MORE OF THEM THAN THERE IS OF YOU. THEY CAN GET MORE DONE THROUGH THAT ALONE, EVEN IF EACH INDIVIDUAL WORKS FAR LESS THAN YOU DID.”

Sans still was looking away.

“i should have told you to hire them sooner.”

Papyrus scoffed, “PSHA. YOU HAD A LOT ON YOUR MIND, AND I DOUBT YOU KNEW THAT TRAINED, DISCREET INDIVIDUALS LIKE THEM EXISTED. IN ANY CASE, WE WOULD NOT HAVE BEEN ABLE TO PAY THEM AND YOU KNEW IT. IF THE FAMILIES HAD NOT DONATED THEM AS THEY DID, I AM SURE YOU AND I WOULD STILL BE...HOW DO YOU SAY IT? “MUGGING ALONG”. YES. WE WOULD BE MUGGING ALONG TOWARDS THIS SAME GOAL, JUST SLOWER. THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH THAT.”

“i didn’t want you to realize you didn’t need me.”

“SANS,” Papyrus forced his brother to meet his gaze, “THAT IS SILLY. YOU ARE MY BIG BROTHER. I WILL ALWAYS NEED YOU. YOU RAISED ME,” he didn’t look convinced. The king sighed, “YOU WORKED YOURSELF TO THE BONE, BROTHER. YOU SACRIFICED YOUR FOOD. YOUR SLEEP. YOUR SAFETY. YOUR TIME. YOUR HEALTH. YOU HAVE GIVEN UP SO MUCH FOR ME. I WOULD NOT BE HERE WITHOUT YOU.”

The familiar eye lights before him lit up at the pun but quickly dimmed as the speech continued. By the end, they were all but nonexistent.

“you would have been fine without me. great, even. some nice monster would have found you and given you a better life than i did. you’re kind, caring, and, uh, persistent? something like that. you keep going long after i would have given up. i was just holding you back.”

Papyrus scowled, “SO WHAT? I WOULDN’T HAVE HAD YOU.”

Sans looked at him like he was seriously doubting his brother’s sanity.

“but-”

Papyrus shook his head, “NO BUTS. YOU’RE MY BROTHER. I’LL ALWAYS LOVE YOU.”

Sans shook his head too, but there was a fond smile on his face. Then it faltered.

“and the offer?”

“DO YOU WANT TO DO IT?” Papyrus didn’t even have to think.

Sans breathed out through his nose hole, his breath slow and filled with emotion. 

“you should. they’re right about the politics of it. you need support, and people need the kind of hope that comes with an heir. it gives them a future.”

“BUT DO YOU WANT TO DO IT?”

Sans frowned, “i just said-”

“NO. THAT WAS LOGIC. I WANT TO KNOW WHAT YOU FEEL ABOUT IT. I DON’T REMEMBER YOU EVER DATING. WAS THAT BECAUSE YOU DIDN’T WANT TO, OR BECAUSE YOU COULDN’T? OR WAS IT THAT YOU DIDN’T THINK YOU DESERVED TO?”

The last question sent his brother reeling. It wasn’t the first time. Papyrus had a way of getting past all of his defenses. Sometimes he said things even Sans didn’t realize were true. This was always the result. 

“i, uh, i d- i mean, i...i…”

Papyrus’ expression softened, “I UNDERSTAND. IT IS ALRIGHT, BROTHER. I DO NOT AGREE, BUT I UNDERSTAND.”

Sans skull fell, “sorry.”

“DO NOT APOLOGIZE, BROTHER. BUT NOW THAT THAT IS SETTLED, HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT DATING NOW?”

Sans shrugged, “dunno bro. it’s been so long since i’ve even thought about it…i dunno. i can try.”

Papyrus studied his expression deeply. There was hesitation, yes, but not fear. It was residual doubt and uncertainty rather than anything that might make him call it off. Good. That was a good sign. Something like this might be exactly what Sans needed.

“ALRIGHT. ARE YOU ALRIGHT WITH ATTENDING THESE BALLS? WE DO NOT HAVE TO DO IT THEIR WAY. I AM SURE I CAN CONVINCE THEM TO ARRANGE SOMETHING LESS FORMAL AND...INTIMIDATING. BEING SURROUNDED BY PEOPLE TRYING TO COURT YOU...THAT IS A LOT OF PRESSURE. IF IT IS TOO MUCH, I CAN-”

“pap.”

The king snapped out of his monologue, “YES, BROTHER?”

“i’m fine. i mean, they’ve already got it set up, right? and we don’t have to stay the whole time. if it gets too much, i’ll tell you and you can invent some urgent appointment you have to drag me off too.”

Papyrus scowled, “I DO NOT ‘INVENT’, BROTHER! I SHALL SIMPLY HAVE CHARKY ARRANGE SOMETHING. AFTER ALL, ANY MEETING THAT THE KING OF THE UNDERGROUND HAS TO ATTEND IS CERTAINLY IMPORTANT.”

Sans smiled at him, “you’re so cool, bro.”

“OF COURSE I AM! I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS, KING OF THE UNDERGROUND! HOW COULD I BE ANYTHING BUT COOL!” In a slightly quieter voice he said, “AND SO ARE YOU.”

Sans opened his mouth, clearly about to protest. Papyrus shushed him.

“NO, BROTHER. YOU ARE AMAZING.”

Sans looked away again, “but i’ve been lying to you, pap. your friends...aren’t on vacation.”

“I KNOW. I ADMIT I WAS...SOMEWHAT PUT OUT WHEN I FIRST REALISED. I THOUGHT THAT YOU WOULD NEVER LIE TO ME ABOUT SOMETHING THAT IMPORTANT,” Sans winced, “BUT THEN I DID SOME THINKING. IF YOU HAD TOLD ME, I WOULD HAVE BEEN INCONSOLABLE. I WOULD HAVE BROKEN DOWN, AND IF I HAD DONE SO ANY EARLIER THAN I DID, I AM SURE THE UNDERGROUND WOULD HAVE SUFFERED FROM SEEING THEIR RULER SO DISTRAUGHT. AS IT WAS, I WAS ABLE TO HAVE THE TIME TO GRIEVE WITHOUT HURTING EVERYONE. I WAS ABLE TO COME TO TERMS WITH THEIR DEATHS. I WAS ABLE TO DESIGN MEMORIALS THAT ALLOWED EVERYONE TO COME TO TERMS IN THE SAME WAY.”

Sans eye sockets closed, “i still should have been the one to tell you.”

“IT IS FINE, SANS. I KNOW YOU ONLY MEANT TO PROTECT ME BY IT. AND I MUST ADMIT THE LETTERS ARE...ENTERTAINING. ESPECIALLY THE ONES FROM UNDYNE.”

His brother chuckled, “heh. she always was a crazy monster. i mean, she put out her own eye climbing the spires of the castle. then she went to the school the next day and tore off the bandage for show and tell.”

Papyrus nodded, “I KNOW. TRAINING WITH HER WAS...EXCITING.”

“yup.”

They sat in comfortable silence that could only live between siblings. The Barrier flickered from some phenomena outside. The hum of the Underground echoed off the roof of the cave. A few birds flittered past. 

Papyrus, reluctant to break this moment, hesitantly spoke, “SANS?”

His brother shook his skull like the dogs used to whenever they stood up.

“yeah, bro?”

The king gulped, “HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN IN PAIN?”

Sans went stiff. It was clearly a question he’d been dreading. Papyrus wasn’t going to give in.

“...dunno. kind of...always?”

Papyrus’ subdued face fell. He reached over with one hand and easily picked his brother up by gripping his right scapula. Not even a second later he had Sans situated in his lap. He wrapped both arms around him and rested his skull on Sans’ shoulder. Then he started to bawl.

“wha- pap, why are you crying?”

“I SHOULD HAVE NOTICED SOONER. WHAT KIND OF A BROTHER AM I NOT TO HAVE NOTICED?”

Sans tried to move out of the hug, but he was trapped. “pap, don’t beat yourself up about it.”

“WHY NOT? YOU DO.”

Once again his brother was stunned. Papyrus felt that getting it all over with now would be better for Sans than spreading it out. 

“...i’m sorry. i should have gone sooner, but i’d never been to a proper doctor before, so i didn’t know how to start, and it never felt like a good time to try.”

“HOW ABOUT WE BOTH GO TOMORROW? ASGORE’S ROYAL HEALER HAS BEEN WANTING TO MEET WITH ME FOR A WHILE. CHARKY CAN RESCHEDULE MY MORNING APPOINTMENTS.”

“sure thing, bro.”

Papyrus resumed staring at the barrier with his skull resting on his brother’s shoulder. They didn’t speak for some time. Then Papyrus asked, “DO YOU WANT TO JOIN ME FOR DINNER? I WANT TO GET YOU UP TO SPEED ON THE DIFFERENT HIGH-BORN FAMILIES.”

Sans turned his head and gave Papyrus a look he couldn’t find the words to describe. Then he answered, “okay.”

“GOOD.”

Papyrus stood up, Sans still safely wrapped by his long arms, and headed back into the castle.

Chapter Text

“AND THAT’S THE CARVARAS. PROTOCOL STRICT, BUT GENEROUS TO THOSE WHO TAKE THE TIME TO FOLLOW THE RULES. I DON’T THINK THEY’D MAKE A VERY GOOD MATCH FOR YOU. APART FROM THE FORMALITY, THE CLOSEST MONSTERS IN AGE TO YOU ARE FOUR. BUT IF YOU CAN TAKE THE TIME TO DANCE WITH AT LEAST ONE OF THEM I THINK THEY’LL BE CONTENT.”

Sans sucked in another mouthful of somewhat bitter soup. It definitely wasn’t ketchup, that was for sure. But it wasn’t mass-produced spaghetti either. Somehow he hadn’t thought to have dinner with his brother in months, possibly years. This food, while still simple, managed to be a heck of a lot tastier than what he’d been getting. Then again, he’d just grabbed a plate from the kitchen whenever he’d remembered to eat things. Papyrus had scheduled meal times and chefs and things. He should have meals with his brother more often. It might even help him remember to eat on the regular. 

“who are they most closely tied with again?” Sans asked.

His brother swallowed a spoonful of the cabbage broth and answered, “THEY’RE ON THE BRIGADE WITH THE KLEARSWORTHY CLAN, THE TRUFFADORS, THE HALLEY FAMILY, AND THE FAERIES. I HAVEN’T TOLD YOU ABOUT THE HALLEY FAMILY YET, HAVE I?”

Sans shook his head. He was starting to wonder if it wouldn’t have been smarter of him to have been taking notes. The only times he’d ever had to deal with the older families was when they’d spat on him in the street. He’d never even heard most of these names before, and two days from now he was going to meet them? He still couldn’t take it in.

“THE HALLEYS ARE RELATIVES OF GRILLBY. THEIR FAMILY LORE IS THAT THE FIRST FLAMES WERE TWO COMETS THAT CROSSED PATHS IN SPACE AND WALKED HALF THE WORLD TO FIND EACH OTHER AGAIN. THEY ARE FIRM BELIEVERS IN DESTINY AND LOVE. THEY ARE ALSO FAIRLY LONG LIVED - NOT AS LONG YOU’VE SAID WE ARE, BUT CLOSE.”

Sans wondered what Grillby was up to these days. He hadn’t been over to see his favorite bartender in, oh, far too long. Maybe he could sneak away for a burg? The letter had said he needed to have more close relationships in his life. Maybe Grillby’s would be a good place to start.

Papyrus continued, “THERE AREN’T AS MANY OF THEM AS THERE ARE OF MOST OF THE OTHER BRIGADE FAMILIES, BUT THEY MAKE UP FOR IT IN WEALTH. THEY OWN THE ONLY WHEAT FIELDS IN THE UNDERGROUND. WITHOUT WHEAT, THERE WOULD BE NO SPAGHETTI. I SUSPECT IT WAS ONE OF THEM WHO PROPOSED THE BALL. IT SOUNDS LIKE SOMETHING THEY WOULD DO.”

Sans suddenly sat up. He said, “what am i going to wear? to the ball, i mean. you have your robes, but i kinda just have this.”

He gestured to himself. Papyrus blinked. He took in Sans’ worn and ink-stained hoodie, yellowing shirt, and creased shorts.

“I...DO NOT KNOW. YOU’VE ALWAYS HANDLED THAT. HOW DID YOU DO IT?”

Sans thought for a minute, sipping on some soup. He eventually said, “i used to make most of your stuff by hand. but i don’t think there’s time for me to do it.”

Papyrus sat up straighter.

“ISN’T THERE A WORD FOR PEOPLE LIKE THAT? TAIL-LORE?”

Sas coughed on a spoonful of soup. 

“yeah. tailors. i think there’s a couple in new home. maybe we could get one of them to do it?”

Papyrus beamed.

“THAT SOUNDS PERFECT. I’LL HAVE CHARKY ARRANGE FOR A COUPLE OF TAILORS TO COME IN TOMORROW AFTERNOON. IN THE MEANTIME I WOULD LIKE...I MEAN, CAN YOU...COULD YOU PLEASE READ ME A BEDTIME STORY?”

Sans nodded, the nods speeding up. Papyrus sighed with relief and explained, “I’VE MISSED HEARING YOUR VOICE.”

Sans face softened, “i’m happy to do it, pap. anytime.”

Chapter Text

“Now, the clerks have said you have trouble with your fingers. Can you show me what you mean?”

Sans hesitated. He really didn’t want people to know just how bad his tremors were, but this was the doctor. Admittedly they were a young doctor, a brown-furred bear monster who was probably fresh out of medical school, but they were the only hope Sans had of ever fixing the tremors… and everything else. 

The older skeleton sighed and held out his hands, showing the violent shaking that plagued him constantly. The doctor tutted and held his wrist. 

“Please, can you try your hardest to hold them still?”

Sans swallowed. “i am.”

“Ah. I see. Hmm. Do the joints cause you any pain? If so, please rate it on a one to ten scale.”

Sans slipped into a coughing fit. He managed to stay just upright enough to see that the doctor was taking more notes. Great. That saved him one question to bring up.

When the fit had ended, Sans said, “all of my joints hurt except my left elbow. i’d say they’re...hmm, an 8 on the bad days, and a 6 most of the time. ten would be the worst pain i’ve ever experienced.”

“And that would be?” The doctor asked without hesitation.

“well, there’s two times that are tied for the worst thing. when I was...eight? one of the gangs in hotland caught me dumpster diving in their territory, they didn’t like it, so one of them poured liquid lava down my throat. they didn’t want me to die, which is, uh, probably why i didn’t die.”

Papyrus looked incredibly guilty. “WAS THAT THE TIME I ASKED YOU TO GET ME A STAR PARFAIT FOR MY BIRTHDAY? I REMEMBER WHEN YOU CAME HOME WITH IT. IT WAS A LITTLE DENTED, BUT YOU COULDN’T TALK FOR A WEEK. YOU THREW UP A LOT OF COFFEE GROUNDS, TOO. I KEPT TELLING YOU TO STOP EATING THE COFFEE GROUNDS, BUT YOU-”

“Coffee grounds? Or blood?” The doctor asked sharply. 

Sans looked down at the ground, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. “blood,” he said quietly, “it was blood.”

“Ah. I’ll have to check your spine, ribcage, and throat. Later. What was the other worst pain you’ve ever felt?”

Sans smiled nervously. “i’ve been getting migraines lately. really bad headaches, some so bad i’ve almost passed out. most of them are, like, an eight? definitely an eight. i can’t really think when i’ve got one. those have been the other worst pain.”

The doctor smiled. “I can give you something for those, although reducing your stress levels will be a big help. Do you have any other problems you’d like to share with me?”

“well…” Sans hesitated, but if anyone would know what to do about this, a doctor would. “i’ve had this problem with my soul. it’s not new or anything...come to think of it, i can’t remember it being any other way. but pap’s soul isn’t like this, so…”

“What is the problem, exactly?” The doctor asked, leaning in.

“it’ll probably be easier if i show you. here,” sans reached under his shirt and pulled out his soul.

The soul wasn’t the traditional upside-down heart shape of most monsters. No, his soul was a circle with ragged edges that slowly dripped magic from several sources. It was so dead it was almost grey, and it’s beat was very, very slow. Some attempt at stitching the holes closed had been made, but the stitching just seemed to have gotten infected. The string was cutting into the swollen soul, too.

“Oh my goodness- how are you still alive?!!” the doctor jumped up and cupped the soul. Warm healing magic surrounded it. Sans’ eye sockets went lidded very, very quickly. He fought against it, thrashing in his chair. His soul’s beat became erratic. “I’m sorry, but this needs surgery urgently. We need to-”

“SANS!” Two strong hands enclosed his humeri and held him bodily down in his chair. Sans looked up desperately into his brother's upside down eye sockets. "IT'S OKAY, SANS, HE'S GOING TO HELP. I'LL BE RIGHT HERE THE WHOLE TIME, OKAY? I'M NOT GOING TO LEAVE…"

Heavy eyelids blinked open in the morning light. Vague shapes on the wall resolved themselves into a picture frame, a lamp, a tv, and a doorframe. The door in the frame was just opening. 

"Ah, Sans. I'm glad you're finally awake. I admit I didn't expect the anesthesia to hit you this hard. You may be wobbly on your feet for a few hours after this, but there will be no lasting effects."

Sans managed to find his voice. "thanks, um...voice that's probably attached to a person? i can't move my skull. is that bad?"

A vaguely familiar brown bear's head bobbed into view. It was the doctor. What was his name again? Oh, yeah. Dr. Smoky. "Nothing to be concerned about. We've braced your skull while the healing in your neck settles. That lava did quite a bit of damage. You had a CSF leak, which is probably the source of your migraines. Please let me know if they come back."

Sans shot some shaky finger guns in the doctor's direction. "can do doc. anything else I should know?"

Dr. Smoky grinned. "Surgery went well. I've stabilized your soul. I must be honest, I've never even heard of damage like that. Do you know what did it?"

"nope," Sans said as he tried to shrug. It failed in the most painful way possible. He wheezed. "it's, uh, kinda always been that way? i've been trying to doctor it myself. bandages, ointments, you know the stuff. nothing ever really worked."

The bear nodded his understanding. "I'm impressed you survived this long. It really did need surgery. Now that it's had it, it should heal up within a week to ten days. I suggest you massage the scars daily for a few months after that. That will make them softer. Of course, it would work just as well to have someone else massage them. Wink."

Chuckles escaped Sans' throat. "you've been spending a lot of time around paps, haven't you? i can do that."

"Good. Now, please console your brother. He had been worried sick about you, with good reason."

No sooner had he said it when Papyrus' familiar skull bounced into view. "BROTHER! I AM SO GLAD YOU'RE AWAKE! THE GREAT KING PAPYRUS MUST APOLOGIZE. I SAID I WOULD STAY WITH YOU THE WHOLE TIME, BUT DR. SMOKY INSISTED THAT I LEAVE YOU ALONE WHILE YOU SLEPT. DOES YOUR SOUL HURT?"

Sans smiled at his brother, the coolest guy in the Underground. "my soul hurts less than it ever has, bro, but I think that might be the sleepy juice. doc?"

"I'm going to assume that means you didn't know pain medicine exists, because your brother says he's never seen you take a pill in your life. I'm prescribing a course of them for the time being. You can take them every six hours, and if you need more please let me know. If your pain goes above a 3, you need more pain medicine. Okay?"

Sans gulped and tried to nod. He… could not be in pain? Really? He knew that was the goal of all this, but… it didn't feel real. He'd always been in pain. It just seemed way too good to be true. 

“geez, doc, if you’re gonna solve all my problems, what about the tremors?”

Silence reigned for a few seconds, then Dr. Smoky breathed what sounded like a sigh of relief. 

“I was afraid you were going to mention some new horrific wound. The tremors should calm down now that the wounds on your neck and spine have been dealt with. They may not calm down for a while, though. Even with the pain medication I will be giving you, your nerves still have to heal. Nerves are notoriously slow to do so.”

Sans tried to nod again, but the bindings kept him from doing so. That was just about what he expected. The fact that they could clear up at all was a miracle. “thanks, doc. is there anything else?”

Dr. Smoky coughed. “A few supplements for you to take is all. Vitamins for your general health, calcium cream for your scars, calcium supplements for your bones, and a magic stabilizer. You had a flare up during surgery that almost burned out my equipment. Those can be extremely dangerous to you and everyone around you. Do you know how long they’ve been happening?”

“um… what? i’ve got no idea what you’re talking about, doc. what would they feel like?” Sans asked, earnestly trying to understand.

The doctor blinked back at him, searching his face. “You really don’t know, do you? It-”

Papyrus interrupted him. “MY BROTHER’S MAGIC IS VERY DEFENSIVE. IT HAD TO BE WHEN WE WERE YOUNG. EVEN IN HIS SLEEP IT CAN REACT IF IT THINKS THERE’S A THREAT, BUT IT HASN’T DONE THAT IN YEARS. DID THE FLARE UP HAPPEN WHEN YOU WERE ABOUT TO, UM, START THE SURGERY-ING?”

The bear hesitated, then said, “Yes... I believe you’re right, your Majesty. I was about to start suturing. I’d still like to put you on magic stabilizers, Sans. They won’t hurt you and they might help to protect yourself and others.”

Sans shrugged. “i’m game. i don’t want to hurt anyone just because my magic thought they were going to attack me. it’s just a pill, right?”

Dr. Smoky nodded. “It’s one pill twice a day, so you take it with breakfast and dinner.”

“i can do that. what about the others?” Sans asked.

“In total you’ll have 5 pills in the morning and 2 at night,” Dr. Smoky explained, “Or you could do 3 in the morning and 4 at night. The vitamins can be taken whenever you want. They won’t keep you up or make you sleep. The pain pill tends to wake people up, so I suggest you take it in the morning. All of them should be taken with at least a little bit of food.”

“THAT SHOULD HELP REMIND YOU TO EAT MORE OFTEN, SANS. I’LL ASK THE STAFF TO HELP YOU REMEMBER.”

Sans smiled. His brother was so cool. “thanks, bro. i owe you one.”

Dr. Smoky coughed. “Well, then. I’ll leave you two to it. The nursing staff can tell you when you’re cleared to leave, and they’ll help you learn how to take your medicine. I am, of course, available if you need me.”

“thanks, doc. really,” Sans said sincerely.

The doctor smiled and nodded at him. “I am glad to have helped you. I hope I don’t have to see you again until our followup. Goodbye!”

Chapter Text

Sans was nervous. Of course he was nervous! He was going to a fancy ball for the first time in his life and had no idea what he was doing. A street rat was going to a ball. Heh. What a joke. He still had to do it, though, so he spun around awkwardly, his skirts bunching up around him and almost knocking him over. Papyrus, the shining star that guided the whole Underground now, caught him.

“BROTHER! YOU NEED TO BE MORE CAREFUL. DR. SMOKY SAID YOUR SPINE WAS ONLY UP FOR GENTLY DANCING AND WALKING, NOT FOR SHOCKS LIKE FALLING OVER OR RUNNING, REMEMBER? DO YOU NEED A CANE AFTER ALL?” Papyrus asked, deeply concerned.

“i’m fine, paps, really. it’s just been a while since i’ve worn a skirt, and i’ve never worn three of them all racked up like an upside down stack of cups,” Sans answered.

“THAT WAS A STRETCH AND YOU KNOW IT,” Papyrus pointed out.

Sans tried his best jester’s grin. “pap, you know this fabric doesn’t have any stretch in it. the tailor said so.”

“BUT IT DOES HAVE A SANS IN IT, SO IT NEEDS TO BE CAREFUL OF HIM!”

“you have a point,” Sans conceded, looking down at his dress. It was a beautiful ballgown, the type he’d always dreamed of wearing as a kid. There were purple ruffles and blue trains, white underskirts and black bodices. Well, bodice. He only had one torso. The bodice had pink glitter on it, so that had to count for something, right? It all looked really nice. He just wished it hadn’t taken so long to get it fit. Standing there with pins right near his bones had been the scariest hour of his life.

“Ahem. Your Majesty? Your Highness? I believe it is time for you to make your grand entrance?” said a familiar voice. Both brothers turned. Variegate Klearsworthy was standing nervously in a pretty black flapper’s dress, waiting for them to finish conversing.

Sans winced a little and, out of the corner of his eye, thought he saw Papyrus nod. Wow. His brother was so cool.

“OF COURSE WE MUST! SANS, DO YOU THINK I SHOULD CARRY YOU HEROICALLY DOWN THE STAIRS, OR DO YOU THINK YOU CAN HANDLE THEM BY YOURSELF?” Papyrus asked. Sans smiled inside, although outside he was still nervous. That was the Papyrus that he knew so well. It was nice to know he was still in there.

“you can carry me, pap. i don’t mind. stairs are kind of… not my thing.”

“GOOD! WELL THEN, VARIEGATE, LEAD THE WAY!” Papyrus said as he carefully lifted Sans up, somehow not crushing any part of the beautiful dress that Sans had grown so fond of, and then held him gently in his arms. A part of Sans sighed with relief. Yeah, this might look ridiculous, but having Papyrus around always gave Sans more courage to do things he never thought he could do before. Yeah, Papyrus really was great.

#

Grillby almost choked when he saw Sans coming down the stairs. Well, perhaps that was not totally accurate. For one thing, he could not choke, and for the other, Papyrus was the one coming downstairs in a handsomely tailored uniform, Sans in his arms. In Grillby’s eyes, though, all he could see was Sans in the most stunning dress and expression he’d ever seen. Sans looked happy. Genuinely happy.

He wasn’t sure whether to believe it or not. Sans had a lot of practice pretending to be things he wasn’t, like healthy and awake, but this looked leagues better than anything he had done before.

His brother, Chark, who worked for the King as his Chief Aide (Their mother’s words, not his) had told him of Sans’ bad health, overworking, and lack of sleep. At first Grillby didn’t want to believe that last part. Sans was almost always asleep. Then Grillby had gone to his childhood friend Variegate and it had been confirmed. Sans was not doing well. Sans needed help.

Grillby had been on the verge of shutting down his restaurant and going up there himself when he’d heard the good news. Sans was trying to fix things, mostly because his brother had tricked him into it, and it was helping. Grillby didn’t want to intrude… but he couldn’t help but say yes when his brother asked if he wanted to cater the balls the nobles were throwing to try and match Sans up with someone or more. He needed to see Sans for himself. He just did.

Now he was here, working behind the bar and totally unable to stop the hoard of idiots and leeches (and idiotic leeches) that some people called the nobility descend upon Sans and Papyrus like a wave. He heard Papyrus’ booming voice calling out for Sans and began to panic. Surely he was okay? Surely those clumsy idiots who used to step on his feet in dance class hadn’t-

Then a familiar knock, right below his craning neck stretched over the bar in a way that would almost make Lesser Dog jealous, reassured Grillby. He looked down at Sans, still in the stunning dress, grinning up at him and reaching for a ketchup bottle.

“hey, grillbz. icy you have my favorite snack. were you saving it for someone special?”

Grillby relaxed. He could handle this. Sans didn’t ever need a translator, not like most people. It was as though he could read Grillby’s peculiar speech like a speech bubble. “Of course….. I was saving it for the brother of the King.”

Sans didn’t falter from the banter. Grillby had the distinct feeling that, just like always, Sans was going to miss his attempts at flirting completely. Knowing now that Sans had grown up on the streets that made more sense. It was hard to pick up inter-species etiquette without taking a class or two. Grillby wondered if Sans knew they existed.

“well, then, i’ll keep it safe for him until he manages to get out of that mob and wander over this way. i’d say the safest place for something like this is a monster’s mouth, wouldn’t you?” Sans winked his left eye as he said that.

“Do you expect me to answer or would you prefer I make your brother a milkshake? I hear he’s been on a “health” binge again. You and I both know that a little milk never hurt anyone. Who even told him that milk was a kind of alcohol?” Grillby asked sardonically. He didn’t expect an answer.

“it kinda is? it makes me act as drunk as tipsy. must be a skeleton thing, then,” Sans said with a shrug.

“That was because you smoked one of Doggo’s dog treats, not because of the milk.”

Sans couldn’t see his rolled eyes behind the ever present glasses, but he grinned anyway. “oh, it was that? whoopsie. we’d better tell my brother that. he used to drink the whole gallon whenever i could get it when we were young. i bet he’d love to find out he can drink it again.”

Grillby snorted. That sounded like exactly the sort of prank that Sans would pull. “Tell him I said hello, would you? I haven’t seen him in even longer than I haven’t seen you.”

“nah, you should tell him yourself. he’s lurking behind that conveniently shaped rock over there,” Sans said, pointing to the statue of their King that Lesser Dog had made to distract herself from the pain of losing almost all of her pack.

“NYEH!” Said the statue, “SANS, YOU CAUGHT ME AGAIN! HOW MINDBOGGLINGLY PERPLEXING! HOW DO YOU DO IT?”

Sans shrugged. “dunno, bro. must be a gift.”

“You smell like spaghetti, Papyrus. Quite strongly, I have to say.” Grillby answered honestly. Sans shot him a wink as Papyrus’ eyes boggled. Ah, yes. This is what he had missed. There was something about bantering with Sans that made his soul feel complete.

* * *

Chapter Text

Papyrus was surveying his map of the underground and thinking about the uses of a shovel when Chark tapped his shoulder. He nodded absently, then more aware-ly as it trickled into his brain that someone wanted his attention. He turned and smiled at Chark. He’d actually wanted to speak to the flame, and, by the looks of it, Chark wanted to speak to him. Ever gracious, Papyrus said, “WHAT DID YOU WANT TO SPEAK TO ME ABOUT, CHARK?”

“Well… I simply wished to say… I spoke with my mother, and she said she would be willing to let my brother have his title back if he wanted to marry yours. That is, if he wants it. Or you do. Do you?” Chark said, speaking with the least eloquence he’d had since Papyrus had known him.

“WHO?” Papyrus said, hopelessly lost.

Chark ineffectually tried to explain, “My elder brother… Sans seemed to enjoy speaking to him at the ball. You seemed to know him, as well. He may have given up his title, but I have never seen him happier than when he and Sans were chatting at the bar.”

“… GRILLBY. YOUR BROTHER IS GRILLBY?” Papyrus said, guessing purely based on context… and also on species.

“Oh, yes! Grillby was my mother’s first child, but he gave up the title to open a restaurant, with our mother’s blessing. He… well, he never seemed happy among the nobility. He always was smar… never mind. He always seemed to be missing something, and we assumed it was his destined soulmate. Not everyone has one, but some people do. The way he lit up around your brother, Sans, and the way Sans relaxed around him… I think they may be made for each other. If not, they are, at the very least, a good match.”

Papyrus, able to read between the lines better than he used to, put a few things together. Grillby, the monster who’d been his brother’s best friend for years, was a former noble who got out of it because he was too smart to put up with the weird things the nobles thought were important. That was fair. Papyrus was trying to get rid of that weirdness right now. Grillby was a flame. Grillby loved Sans and had been flirting with him for years, as Papyrus had personally observed. Sans was more himself around Grillby than he was around anyone but Papyrus. Sans was okay with dating someone. Therefore, Papyrus should tell him that Grillby was someone he could date. Yes, that was an excellent plan.

“TELL GRILLBY THAT HE CAN CHOOSE EITHER WAY, BUT THAT, IN STRICTEST CONFIDENCE, I WOULD LOVE TO LET HIM CONTINUE TO ANNOY THE NOBLES INDEFINITELY. IT WOULD MEAN MORE LETTERS, I AM SURE OF THAT, BUT IT WOULD ALSO MEAN MORE… WELL, FUN! BUT DO NOT PRESSURE HIM IN ANY WAY. ALSO, TELL HIM THAT HE SHOULD TEXT SANS TOMORROW AND SET UP A DATE. YOU CAN HELP HIM WITH SANS’ SCHEDULE, CAN’T YOU? GOOD. OH, WOWIE, I HAD NO IDEA HOW MUCH FUN THIS MATCHMAKING STUFF WOULD BE!”

#

Papyrus found his brother in the place he’d decided to call “Flower Land”. It was technically the throne room, but Papyrus did not use it. He was… less than fond of those Golden Flowers, and they were everywhere. It was nicely lit, though. Sans seemed to enjoy staring out the windows at the memories of the Surface Asgore had embedded there.

“HELLO, BROTHER! GOOD MORNING! OR SHOULD I SAY, GOOD NIGHT? IT IS AFTER DINNER AFTER ALL.”

Sans jumped a bit as he turned around, then relaxed back into his shaking stance after recognizing him. Papyrus knew his font was distinctive, so he wondered what thought had his brother so deeply buried in the firmament of his own mind that he did not recognize his own brother immediately.

“oh, yeah. hey, paps, i’ve been rethinking this “dating” thing and… i’m not sure i can go through with it.”

Papyrus deflated like a three-day-old animal-shaped balloon. He lamented, “OH, BUT I WAS JUST ABOUT TO TELL YOU ABOUT SOMEONE YOU COULD DATE! I AM SURE THEY WILL PLEASE YOU!”

Sans sighed, clearly conflicted. “really, paps, i don’t think i-“

“GRILLBY,” Papyrus said simply.

His brother blinked at him in shock. “what?”

“YOU CAN DATE GRILLBY, SANS,” Papyrus explained further.

“…what?”

Exasperated, Papyrus enunciated, “YOU. CAN DATE. GRILLBY. BROTHER.”

“but i thought he was just, you know, a flame!” Sans exclaimed.

“HE IS. BUT HE IS ALSO THE ELDEST SON OF THE CURRENT DUCHESS HALLEY. HE GAVE UP HIS TITLE BECAUSE HE WANTED TO RUN A RESTAURANT…” Papyrus paused for effect, “AND A FEW OTHER THINGS. HE WOULD BE MORE THAN ACCEPTABLE FOR YOU TO DATE, AND HIS MOTHER WOULD EVEN BE WILLING TO GIVE HIM HIS TITLE BACK IF HE OR YOU WANTED IT.”

Sans was silent for a long moment as his face followed a full 18-book anthology of journeys. Eventually he said, “…but what if he doesn’t want to date me?”

“SANS, YOU HAVE BEEN FLIRTING WITH EACH OTHER FOR YEARS! HE’S BEEN GIVING YOU COURTING GIFTS FOR YEARS, BUT YOU ARE TOO… SANS, YOU DO KNOW WHAT COURTING GIFTS ARE, DON’T YOU?” Papyrus finished on a deeply worried note. He’d have a lot of work to do if Sans didn’t even know that.

“nope,” Sans said, popping the P.

Papyrus sighed. “THAT’S FAIR. YOU NEVER REALLY HAD THE TIME OR OPPORTUNITY WHEN WE WERE KIDS, DID YOU? YOU WERE TOO BUSY RAISING ME AND KEEPING US ALIVE. I AM SURPRISED YOU MANAGED TO LEARN AS MUCH AS YOU DID! ADMITTEDLY, IT IS ALL FROM THE SAME NARROW TOPIC OF THEORETICAL PHYSICS, BUT STILL,” Papyrus said. Sans waggled his brow bones at him, something Papyrus couldn’t help but giggle at. Then he coughed and tried to be more serious again. “ALRIGHT, LET ME GO FIND THE DATING MANUAL AND YOU AND I CAN SIT DOWN AND MAKE FUN OF IT.”

“don’t you mean read it?” Sans asked.

Papyrus rolled his eye lights where his brother couldn’t see. “THAT WOULD, IN FACT, BE NECESSARY IN ORDER TO MAKE IT. ALSO, IT’S 50 YEARS OUT OF DATE. I CAN CATCH YOU UP ON THE CHANGES AS WE MOCK IT. NOW, WHERE DID I LEAVE THAT THING?”

* * *

Chapter Text

It started with the outfit, as most things did with Sans. Papyrus' idea of a dating outfit was daring, exciting, and... Stupid, if Sans was being honest with himself. He looked like a pinata in shades of blue and white. A skeletal pinata. One stuffed with bones that showed through in far too many places for Sans' liking. That outfit lasted about half as long as it took to put on. It took twice as long to get off. Sans gave up and went with a clean hoodie and actual pants.

The next problem was Sans' fault, and he'd admit it without any regard to his brother's protests. The orders were ignored, too. Sans just didn't want to believe that falling asleep in the middle of tying up the laces on his only pair of sneaks wasn't his fault.

He was still stuck in the cycle of self-blame that was way too deep to get out of in a few days. Heck, he was pretty sure it would take a few years.
Because he fell asleep like that, Sans was late for the thoughtfully scheduled time that his brother had set up for Grillby and Sans to meet. Sans suspected that the exact timing had more to do with his brother's self-imposed duty to keep the date from failing than any propriety set up in that book they'd read, but he wasn't... Entirely sure about it. That book had been pretty serious, after all. He didn't know that most human books of that sort written in the 50s were like that.

Even if it was just for Papyrus' sake, Sans was willing to put up with being watched from the obviously fake bushes during his first date. Papyrus was worth it, and besides, it had been way too long since his brother had let his silly side out. Sans couldn't be prouder of his King, but everyone needed to let their hair down some time or another. Otherwise, their soul might start to crack. Souls were tricky things. After all the lectures he'd sat through in the past week and a half, he should know. They needed a lot more care than he'd thought they did.

Grillby looked a lot more relaxed than Sans was. Sans felt like a buzzing ball of bees was bumping around in his belly, and that was way too many Bs in a row for anyone to handle safely. Then again, almost everything that Sans repeated out of that weird human dating manual made Grillby grow stiffer, and his flames flicker tighter and faster, so Sans was pretty sure all those nerves came because he was messing up.

The final straw that broke the date in half was when his brother's assistant arrived, clearly even more uncomfortable than they were, dressed like a bad impression of a human stereotype of an Italian chef. He was carrying some of Papyrus' personal spaghetti. Sans knew that the moment he saw Grillby take the first bite.
Sans couldn't take it anymore at that point. He burst out laughing, and pretty soon they all were, which was somehow worse. He knew this was a bad idea, so he did what he always did when that happened. He balled up his emotions, shut the whole thing down with a few jokes, and ran away. He didn't notice Grillby following him until they were both sitting on a bench hidden deep in Waterfall with an abandoned quiche underneath it.

#
#

Long after the disastrous and hilarious date, Sans sat quietly and peacefully on the bench with Grillby, his soul beating in time with the one next to it and his mind relaxing to the sound of flames crackling and water flowing. Suddenly, the urge to speak overtook him, and he blurted out what was on his mind. “i’m going to be honest with you, grillby. everything i know about dating i learned yesterday from papyrus and an out of date book. so, yeah. i’m lost.”

Grillby chuckled. Sans had always loved his chuckle. There was something about it that made it the best response to his jokes he’d ever heard, and that included from the old lady… Sans shifted his focus away from that thought quickly. He didn’t want to get mired down in grief.

“Then I shall just have to help you with the directions,” Grillby’s voice said in his acoustic meatus. Sans blushed. That tickled!

“heh. you sure you don’t mind putting up with a clueless old maid?” Sans worried.

Grillby grabbed his mandible and twisted his skull so it was eye to eye with him. “Sans, I maid my decision a long time ago, and I won’t be putting up with you, I’ll be standing next to you as you learn.”

Sans laughed at the pun, but sobered as Grillby’s speech turned more serious. “thanks, grillbz. i should have known i could count on you. speaking of which, you’ve got fifteen freckles on the left side of your face that show up when you laugh, but only fourteen on your right. is there a story there or can i just not count anymore?”

An unexpected burst of laughter filled the space between them. Grillby huffed for air when he came to a stop; Sans was grinning like a maniac. He loved a response like that.

When Grillby had gathered himself, he sternly said, “Sans. I adore that you have that much interest in my face, but I would much rather you turn that attention to a kiss than to my freckles. Are you as interested in that as I am?”

Gulping, Sans earnestly said, “yeah, but i don’t know how? like, no one has ever kissed me before, so i’ve only got a little bit of an idea about how it should go. most of it comes from observation, so… yeah, i don’t know what the hell to do. do i turn my head? do i open my mouth? what do i do, grillby? what if i mess it up? what if-”

Grillby had clearly decided to shut him up and break him out of his panic spiral, because Sans was suddenly in the middle of a kiss. His eye lights fuzzed out of existence like the static snow on a TV. Wow. Oh, stars, wow. This was what it felt like to kiss someone? No wonder people were so obsessed with doing it. He didn’t want this fizzy, popping, warm feeling to ever go away.

All good things must come to an end, though, and that included kisses. Grillby pulled back first, and Sans was too short to pursue him. It was a good thing, too, because Grillby had pulled back in order to breathe.

Having collected his breath, Grillby smiled serenely down at Sans. “So, how was your first kiss? Was it everything you had hoped? Was it more?”
“yeah, grillbz,” Sans dazedly said, “yeah it was.” *