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sim·plic·i·ty
noun
a thing that is plain, natural, or easy to understand.
If you got to know Dust well enough, you'd find that deep down, in his core, he was complicated.
Not complicated in the sense that he was impossible to figure out, no. 'Complicated' in the way he functioned, sometimes, in the way he held himself and the way he acted. Days with Dust were something of an unexpected. He tolerated something one moment but hated it the next, laughed at a joke one week and scowled in another. He was always changing, always shifting, and there were certainly times when he was different person all together.
Not all things changed within him. There were a few constant things that Dust liked and a handful that he hated. He liked smoking a cigarette on the rooftop when it got dark, liked reading by himself in the dim light of his room, liked watching Horror rifle through the kitchen cabinets to gather ingredients for a recipe. He didn't enjoy cooking- it was apparent that his skills hadn't bled into the kitchen -but it was calming for him to sit at the counter and watch his partner work his magic. Dust was fond of the way Horror moved when baking. The cannibal seemed more alive than ever when he was creating his own cuisine, and Dust couldn't help but let a smile tug at his mouth when he saw it. Not even his brother could ruin those little moments. Couldn't ruin anything, not when Horror was around.
There were a few other things that caught Dust's interest, but the dislikes far outweighed them. It was far easier for Dust to hate something than love it. He knew it made him a little bitter, sometimes, but the hooded skeleton had made it clear that others needed to fuck off and deal with it. Dust knew what he liked and knew what he didn't, and the opinions of others had no right to judge what should or shouldn't fall into those categories. He knew and that was all that mattered.
Well, Horror knew too. He knew that Dust wasn't a fan of parties. Wasn't a fan of birthdays, either, but the cannibal could only control one of those factors no matter how hard he tried. Dust had shown nothing against throwing parties for others- hell, the smaller thought they were satisfying if he was in a good enough mood -but just wasn't a fan when it came down to him. Dust would much rather have a quiet afternoon without any loud festivities or wild decorations. He liked things simple, liked things quiet, and liked his people minimal.
Horror knew all of that and a lot more, too.
Dust meant an awful lot to Horror, meant so much that anyone with a brain and an eye could see it. The smaller was his lover and partner, Horror's sanity in an otherwise unsteady life, and the cannibal wanted nothing more than to know with absolutely certainty that Dust's birthday would be special. It was why he had turned down Killer's idea of throwing a birthday bash; birthday celebrations were few and far between when it came down to the gang, but not every member wanted a party.
"No." Horror had said simply, ignoring the way Killer deflated at the words. "Nothin'.... fancy. No big dec'rations or any 'f yer weird games. Jus' a small cake n'.... somethin' to drink. Maybe." The cannibal's voice caught funny on the word 'decorations' but there hadn't been a single person present in the room who hadn't understood. "No decorations or party games? C'mon, H-" Killer whined from his position on the couch cushions, "-that ain't fair! 'S borin', there ain't nothin' special 'bout that."
"'S simple." The larger rumbled, "Nothin' wild. Dust ain't like that, Kills, 'n you know that." This wasn't their first time trying to plan for Dust's birthday. They'd thrown him a few parties over the years with relatively little success; Dust was always grateful for them, they knew that, but they were never really his thing. "I didn't pick my birthday, H." Dust had muttered one year, "'S jus' somethin' that exists. I dunno, 's jus' a little weird that you get the whole placed decked out 'cause of it. There ain't nothin' remarkable about it- 's jus' another day, same as everythin' else. I know that ain't gonna stop you from celebratin' but I wish everybody didn't try so damn hard."
Dust was right. They had never stopped celebrating his birthday but every year Horror tried to get closer and closer to something a little less extravagant. It didn't help that Killer and Cross always had some outrageous plan ready to execute- the two of them didn't quite understand how someone like Dust could possibly want a muted birthday.
"Yeah, yeah, I know." Killer had huffed, "But think about it, H. Dusty only gets older once a year, yeah? It's a limited-edition event. Do you really wanna do somethin' mundane for that?" The toe of Killer's sneaker bounced irritated against the side of the sofa. Nightmare had watched them from where he leaned against the counter, arms crossed and singular eyesocket falling half-lidded in quiet observation. The king never involved himself directly in the planning of a party; it was far more amusing to watch the whole thing play out and help with preparation afterwards.
"It don't matter 'f I do or not, Kills. 'Cause Dust don't, 'n 's...... his birthday." Horror's voice had been soft yet firm, his hulking frame staring mutedly at his smaller trio-mate upon the couch. "He jus' wants somethin' simple. He ain't like you 'n Cross, he likes stuff quiet 'n straightforward. Nothin'... like last year's party."
While Dust's birthdays had been getting smaller each year, they still ranged fairly large in comparison to a normal day. Horror knew better than anyone how much Dust hated attention, much less when he was the center subject of it. His smaller partner had never liked the spotlight and Horror doubted there would ever come a day where Dust did. The cannibal had let the parties slide, beforehand, but he was dating Dust now. Things were different. Horror didn't want to watch another birthday slip by without seeing Dust smile at least once because of it. A genuine smile, at least. One of the softer ones that he hardly ever got a chance to see.
"I think it's a good idea. If, y'know, Dust wants it that way." Cross piped up from where he was positioned beside Killer, eyelights soft and looking downward to gaze at the hem of his jacket. Even after all this time the guard still acted like he was a guest among them. "I am in agreeance with Cross as well." Nightmare spoke smoothly. "I am aware that most of you like to make the most out of an occasion, but if Dust wishes for a small-scale celebration then I believe we owe it to him."
"Ugh, not you too, Boss." Killer scowled at the spoken words from his superior, crossing his arms with a huff. "But fine. 'F the Boss says to go simple, then I guess we go simple." Dark eyesockets met a broken crimson one, and Horror couldn't stop the silent smile from tugging at his mouth. "Happy, H?"
Horror gave a gentle rumble paired with a silent nod and the four of them had gone to work.
The benefit of hosting a small-scale party was that there was much less to prepare for than what went along with a large celebration. There were less decorations to make, less things to bake- though Horror wouldn't have minded that part necessarily -and less scrambling around to try and make up for all the little details they had forgotten the first time around. A few simple things were all they required; two or three small decorations strung up in the living room and kitchen, a space cleared off on the counter for drinks, and a little round-cake lovingly baked by Horror. Killer and Cross had helped decorate it; the design was a bit crooked and more than a little asymmetrical, but the two of them had been proud. Horror knew Dust wouldn't mind the discrepancies. He never cared as long as it was edible.
"We got alcohol!" Killer cackled when the guardian showed up in the living room, his hands busy with a crate of unopened bottles. "Just this once." The king spoke smoothly, "Do not get used to it." Nightmare usually kept the substance under lock and key to minimalize issues but in the circumstance the date wasn't 'normal.'
It was Dust's birthday, small and simple.
Horror had made everyone keep their promise when the day finally rolled around. There had been no loud music, no sporadic party games, and certainly no long, drawn out, dialogue with candles and song. They had eaten breakfast like usual, bantered like usual, and ended up washing dishes as punishment for yelling indoors. The only special addition was the small gift-giving they had afterwards, after the last bowl had been laid in the sink to dry. Even still the event was kept quiet and calm.
It had been years since they'd last had a gift-opening that was unknown to everyone involved. Working together to find, make, and purchase gifts for someone was something of a tradition; they had to make sure that whatever everyone got would work well with the party games scheduled. For the first time in a long while, though, nobody knew what the others had gotten Dust. The gift planning had been shoved off to the side; why spend collaborative time on something that was going to be simple? There would be no gift-game this year, just a moment where Dust was handed a few presents from the people who cared about him most. The gifts were a collective surprise, really, and even Killer had to admit that there was something fun about the unknowing nature. "Go ahead and open them, Dust." Nightmare hummed, "We are all a little curious."
The mystery was soon abated as Dust sorted through each of his gifts. A new training dummy from Nightmare- it was safe to say that Dust's old one had barely any life left in it -and a new notebook from Cross. "For your, uh, lab stuff." The guard spoke shyly, the soles of his boots scuffing quietly against the ground. "I noticed you were running out of room in your old one."
Killer's gift had been a bit more old-school than the others. Dust didn't pretend to hide his lopsided smile when he unwrapped a few boxes of his choice brand cigarettes. "'M assumin' yer gonna want a few, huh?" Dust had turned to look at Killer as he tucked away the cartons. "You betcha." Killer laughed, giving him a thumbs up and a flash of the grin he wore so often.
"There is a gift here from Error as well." Nightmare's admittance gained a few odd looks; it wasn't every day that the destroyer offered up a present of his own. "Damn, really?" Dust couldn't stop the muted surprise from leaking into his tone; he hadn't expected gifts from anyone but least of all Error. The present had been Dust's old hoodie, stitched up and cleaned as if it were brand new, and the shadow in Dust's eyes grew a little lighter at the sight.
With the short festivities already over it didn't take long for the morning hours to bleed into the afternoon ones. The cake had been cut, gifts had been exchanged, and some of the beer had been cracked open and consumed. The day soon fell into normal routine without anything else planned, and Horror realized with no uncertain clarity that the day thus far had been perfectly plain. Simple, just like Dust had wanted.
It wasn't the only thing that crept through Horror in the form of realization, no; it hadn't been a secret that Dust headed up to the rooftop after the cake-cutting session had been over. Nightmare didn't let him smoke inside the mansion. The guardian didn't like the way the cigarette smoke clung to every surface, and if someone wanted to inhale a cigarette they were told to go outside. The roof was one of the only easily accessible places in the guardian's AU. There was far too much snow and ice on the ground to even think about going out, and Horror knew that the rooftop was one of Dust's favorite places at his core. The two of them went up there often after missions were over and the sun began to set, and he'd begun to think of the roof as a home away from home, too.
Horror was headed up there now with a bottle of booze cradled in the crook of his arm.
The hatch leading to the roof was cracked open as expected. Dust never bothered to close it behind him. The access was in an empty wing of the castle where it didn't matter one way or another if the cold winter air seeped down into the hallway; there wasn't anybody to freeze and nobody to care.
Scaling the ladder with only one hand proved to be a challenge, but Horror managed to make it work. His broken skull peeked out over the roof in search of his lover- not to mention the birthday boy -and wasn't disappointed when he spotted the smaller perched in his usual spot.
The ashes of Dust's cigarette were just barely visible against the snow even from where the larger stood standing in the entrance. Horror noticed that there were ashes on the top of Dust's shoes, too, and wondered briefly if the smaller even cared. Probably not. Dust had a habit of not caring for the little things such as ashes on rooftops.
"....Bunny?" Horror's voice was soft and mutedly quiet against the wind, struggling to be heard over the rustle of snow as the cannibal hoisted himself up and out of the hatch. Sound didn't carry very well up here but that was to be expected- they were, after all, several stories above the ground.
"Yeah?" Dust's voice caught on the butt of his cigarette and the smaller tossed the still-burning stick over the side of the roof. The smoke lingered in the cold air for a while longer before he waved a hand lazily to disperse it; Horror wasn't a fan of the smoke and Dust wasn't douchey enough to let it stay.
"Brought you.... this." The cannibal's large frame appeared besides Dust's smaller one, tall and looming in the winter-chill of white. It would have been unnerving if Dust hadn't been so used to it. "Brought me what?" The smaller's eyelights flickered down to the bottle of booze Horror offered. Understanding flashed in his eyes and Dust grinned, taking the alcohol to settle it in his lap.
"'S cold 's fuck out here." Horror grumbled, sitting down to move closer and press up against his lover's side. "Always is." Dust replied simply, and the cannibal hated that he was right. It was always cold on Dust's birthday. Having it fall in February was an uncontrollable inconvenience; though Nightmare's AU was in a perpetual winter, January and February were always the coldest months of the year. The frigid temperatures never stopped Dust from smoking, though, a fact Horror could never comprehend. Dust got cold so easily, so why did he keep coming out here?
"You okay?" Dust's voice was quiet. Horror nodded, blinking, before returning the question in his own choppy rendition. "Me? 'M fine." The smaller snorted, "Jus' thinkin' 'bout the fact that I owe you one big time." Dust's eyelights turned up to look at his lover. "So, thanks. I know they woulda thrown another party 'f it weren't fer you." Horror grinned happily at the rare snippet of thanks; if his cheeks hadn't been colored from the wind, they certainly would have been from the sight of Dust's own smile. "'F..... course. I kno' you never liked the fancy stuff."
"Fancy stuff?" Dust scoffed, heels kicking against the overcrop of the building. "Dunno 'f that's the word I woulda used, but sure. Ain't never been a fan 'f the fancy stuff." The truth was that as much as Dust had changed over the years, he was still a Sans at heart. He had never lost that craving for all things minimal and plain. Dust was content with sitting quiet by himself, and that was okay.
"Fancy stuff aside-" Horror mumbled, turning to dig a clawed hand through the thick material of his jacket pocket. His old coat had been worn out and frayed to the point of wearing through completely, and once Dust had given him a new jacket that cannibal never took it off. That was fine with Dust. He liked having Horror warm. Well, warmer than he usually was.
"Here." The larger's hand unfurled to reveal a carefully wrapped present. The box was small and dainty in comparison to the gentle touch that held it, but Dust knew right away that Horror himself had found and wrapped the gift. "Aw, H." Dust exhaled, "I thought the party stuff was over." The smaller's gloved hands hesitatingly moved to accept the package, digits shaking a bit within their grip. The tremors never left Dust's hands. Not completely.
"Almost." Horror spoke slowly, "I ain't.... had the chance to give you yer gift yet." Horror had wrestled endlessly with when he should present the item to his lover. He'd felt a little odd earlier in the morning. It had been unpleasant being the only one not giving Dust something at the overall gift-opening, and the last thing the cannibal wanted was to make his partner feel like he had forgotten.
Horror would never forget Dust, not now and not ever.
"You didn't hafta get me anythin', H." The smaller skeleton's eyes were downcast, glowing lightly as they skimmed along the outskirts of the box. "I kno'." Horror responded, soft and reassuring, "But I love ya. I.... wanted to." He gave Dust's hands a gentle nudge with his own, the touch careful, slow, and prompting. "Go 'head. Open it."
Dust did. He unwrapped the little package with more than care than he usually possessed, with the same amount of care he always displayed towards Horror. He took his time untying the ribbon bow and peeling back the paper with fingers that tried so, so, desperately to keep still enough to do so. Dust offered one last fleeting glance up towards his partner before slipping the lid to the box off and brushing back the tissue paper.
Asymmetrical eyelights widened and glowed at what he found, and Horror thought they were pretty alight the falling snow. "H-" Dust's voice held a hint of roughness, "-where the hell did you find this?"
Nestled within the box, packaged delicately atop bubble wrap, was a tiny carving no bigger than Dust's palm.
The sculpture itself glowed faintly in the dim winter light with every curve and gentle angle sparkling softly in its cocoon. It was a roughly cut outline of a compass carved in crystal, and Dust recognized the way the little item was preserved. There was only one AU he'd ever visited that held the same kind of substance. He'd only been there once. Once, and the view had been unforgettable. The crystals had been smooth beneath his hands, shining firm and strong under the light of an actual sun. Dust hadn't said it aloud, but that surface AU had been someplace special. Not just because of its warmth and light, no, but because-
"-this is from our first ever date, ain't it? I'd recognize that material anywhere."
"Mhm." Horror hummed, "From..... the surface vendor, rem'mber?" Dust did remember, every little part of it, and the hooded skeleton couldn't silence the shaky breath that left his frame. The little carving had been a souvenir- a memory - from the first date he'd gone on with Horror. The two of them had visited a surface AU. Neither one of them came from timelines where they had made it above-ground for very long, and though Dust had never admitted it that day was one of his favorites. Special. That day had been special.
"How the hell did ya get ahold 'f this? I looked goddamn everywhere for it but had no fuckin' luck." The smaller's voice held a bit of pain in its syllables. It was so fleet and flashing that Horror barely heard it at all. Dust was.... upset?
"It was broke." The cannibal spoke slow, doing his best to keep his words straight and clear. "I found it.... in pieces. Musta fallen out of yer pocket at some point."
"Pieces?" Dust's hands tightened slightly around the box. "So yer sayin' that-"
"-I fixed it." Horror answered, "Mhm. Sorry it took so long."
Dust's hands weren't just shaking from LV when he reached down to gently hold the carving in delicate fingers. The empty box tumbled soundlessly onto the snow-covered rooftop when the weight was lifted, and Horror carefully scooped the parcel up to tuck it safely back in the pocket of his coat.
The smaller didn't speak for a while after that. Just sat there quietly with the totem in hand, pressed securely up against the cannibal's side. Horror knew that it wasn't a bad type of silence; Dust always got quiet when things got meaningful. He didn't mind one bit, not at all. Not everyone was verbal when it came to appreciation.
"Thanks." Dust's voice was gruff, and Horror pressed a gentle kiss to the top of the smaller's hooded skull. "'F course, Bunny. Happy.... Birthday." The smaller turned to tug his lover into a rare show of affection and Horror pulled Dust close to hold him soundlessly. Though the rooftop was cold, the two of them were warm.
Simplicity.