Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Catch!”

“God, this is a terrible idea.”

“Shut up Burgerpants. This idea rocks. Ow!” Max tried and failed to dodge the purse Bratty threw through the window.

“I told you to catch it!”

“Just get in here!”

“Effing rude.” Bratty hopped up on the railing of the fire escape and clambered through the window. Max had the decency to catch her upper body to keep her from falling on her face. There was a pause. Catty, significantly shorter than Bratty, strained on her tiptoes, trying to see further into the room. “Bratty?” she called nervously.

“This is like, a really nice bathroom!” Bratty’s delighted voice floated from inside the building.

Heavy rain continued to pound on roof of the building, the metal of the fire escape, the pavement three stories below them.

Max’s long blue bunny ears reappeared as he popped his head out the window. “You’re up, Catty.”

Catty looked down at the pavement, and at the gap of several feet between the railing of the fire escape and the open window. She wobbled on her feet. “Can’t we just, like, look for another-“ A particularly loud clap of thunder sent her fur on end. “Ok! Ok! Here I come!”

Catty scrambled onto the railing, leapt off and grabbed hold of the sill. Max grasped her by the elbow and tugged her inside. “I gotcha!”

“Ooooooo…” Came Catty’s voice from inside. “This is an amazing bathroom!!”

“Right?!” Bratty squealed, and both voices together shouted “Bougie!!”

“BP,” Max said, back at the window, “You’ll need to give Y/N a boost. They’re little.”

“I’m not little,” you grumbled as BP grabbed you around the middle and hoisted you onto the railing. “Y’all are big.”

“Whatever,” Max said, growing impatient. “Jump.”

The railing was slick underfoot with rainwater. You braced yourself on the brick wall for a moment, took a steadying breath, and jumped. You grabbed for the sill but your stiff, cold fingers slipped right off the wet surface. Fallen trying to sneak into a Halloween party. What a stupid way to die.

Max’s big fuzzy paws gripped you under the armpits. He lifted you up and through the window like you were feather-light.

“Humans are so goddamn useless,” he complained, with a tinge of humor in his voice.

“Oh, fuck off,” you said once you were lowered to the ground.

Catty burst out laughing. “Hahahaha!! You almost DIED!!!”

“Catty,” Bratty giggled. “You’re not supposed to laugh when someone almost dies!”

“Yeah, save it for when I actually die,” you said.

Catty was laughing so hard she was clutching her belly. Your ears were ringing a little from the near-death experience. You paced around a bit, trying to walk off the jelly legs.

“Oof,” Max grunted from behind you as he caught the bulging duffle bag containing all your costumes. A second later, Burgerpants slid his narrow body through the window and you were all inside. Catty grabbed at the duffle bag, all in a frenzy at the prospect of five makeovers.

“Shouldn’t we take a sec to dry off?” you said.

Catty rolled her eyes and pulled out a huge professional hairdryer. “What d’you think, I’m some kind of amateur?”

While Catty and Bratty worked on each other’s hair, you, Max, and BP checked out the rest of the floor. As Max had expected, it was completely empty. You were in an uptown commercial building. Above you was a high-end clothing store, below a two-story lounge. Your current floor was the office space of an interior design firm, the employees having all gone home for the day.

“How do we get downstairs without attracting attention?” you wondered.

Max snapped his claws and gave you the finger guns. “Service elevator, baby.”

“Do they have one here?”

He stared at you for a moment. “I’ll be right back.”

You pulled out your phone and turned on the flashlight, making sure not to point it toward any of the windows for fear of alerting anyone outside, although the nearest windows faced the alleyway so there wasn’t much danger.

“Looks like we have an hour before the party starts.”

“Still won’t be enough time for those two,” BP grumbled, gesturing toward the bathroom from which Catty and Bratty could be heard chatting animatedly. “I told them we should’ve got ready at home.”

“It would have been pretty obvious if we showed up soaking wet.”

“Found it!” came Max’s voice from somewhere in the dark office. “They do have a service elevator!”

After another 20 minutes or so, Bratty emerged from the bathroom in full makeup with her hair dyed black, wearing Catty’s denim overalls. “Bow down, bitches!” Catty hooted from behind Bratty. “Your queen is here!!”

BP stared, nonplussed. “…where’s your costume?”

“Excuse me?!” The girls said in unison.

“I’m wearing it,” Bratty said.

“You’re just wearing Catty’s clothes!”

“She IS Catty,” Catty snarled.

“MEOW!” said Bratty.

Catty gasped, “Bratty that was like the cutest effin’ thing… OH! Your ears!!” Catty rushed back into the bathroom and fished around in the duffle bag. “Nobody look at her!”

“Don’t look at me!!”

You and BP averted your eyes.

When you looked back, Catty had clipped two purple cat ears into Bratty’s hair. “She has a tail too!”

“I mean, I already had a tail…”

“But now you have a fluffy one!!”

Bratty turned around to show off her tail, which Catty had wrapped in purple faux fur. Catty herself was wearing a long blonde wig, styled in Bratty’s signature pigtails. She had put on a pair of jeans and Bratty’s shirt. Upon closer inspection, you could see they had swapped lipstick and shoes, too.

“Who’s up next?” Catty bounced excitedly on her heels.

BP sighed. “I guess I’ll go. But my costume’s not fancy or anything. We have no time for you to fuss over me.”

Catty pouted, but led BP into the bathroom.

He reappeared wearing a plain white shirt, navy pants, and a messy black wig. He wore thick black eyeliner under his eyes.

“Um. Ok?” Bratty said. “Are you dressed as a depressed person?”

“I’m from an anime,” said BP.

“Ew,” said Bratty.

“I’m a detective? Max?” He looked hopefully at you and Max. “Anyone?”

Blank stares all around.

“L. I’m L from Death Note.”

“Where are your shoes?” asked Bratty.

“L doesn’t wear shoes!”

Bratty made a face. “Double ew.”

“I’ll take Y/N next.” Catty ushered you into the bathroom with her.

The bathroom actually was pretty nice. Glossy stone tiles, shiny onyx counters, and those sinks with the raised basins that were super impractical but stylish as hell.

“What’s your costume, babe?” Catty said, rearranging her beauty products.

“It’s not much,” you said, heading for the duffle bag. Just some stuff I found at a thrift shop.” You pulled out a black pair of leggings and a black hoody, both printed to look like a human skeleton. “The bones glow in the dark! Uh, but the leggings glow green and the top glows white… still cool. Right?”

“So I have to give you, like… skull makeup?” Catty said, sounding disappointed.

“Well, skull-esque, at least.”

“Can I still make you look cute?”

You looked at Catty’s hopeful face. You had no idea how to do your own makeup, anyway. “Sure. Whatever you think is best.”

Catty ended up giving you heavy black eye shadow and a black lip, dark shading under the apples of your cheeks. It didn’t look much like a skull, but your cheekbones looked amazing.

Last in the bathroom was Max. He was only in there a few minutes before you heard Catty shout “NO!” and the door to the bathroom burst open. Max stumbled out with a shit-eating grin on his face. “This one is dead to me!” Catty declared.

Max looked the same as when he entered the bathroom, except he’d changed his shirt. “Oh, no…” you said when you read the text on it, trying to sound disapproving but cracking up.

BP snickered. “That’s actually the worst, dude. You know we’re gonna have to ditch you?”

Max just shrugged brazenly, showing off his “This is my costume” shirt like he’d won a fashion award. “What? This is my costume.”

“The rest of us actually made an effort,” Catty said sourly.

“That’s your mistake,” Max replied.

By now, it was twenty minutes past the start of the party, and music had started up downstairs.

“Ok, so, all of you try not to embarrass me by acting like a bunch of broke-ass losers,” Max said.

“Wow,” said Catty.

“Yeah, like, wow,” said Bratty.

“We are a bunch of broke-ass losers,” said BP.

“That’s why you need to work especially hard not to act like it.” Max led you all to the service elevator and called it up. Something occurred to you.

“Are there going to be other humans there?” you asked. “Or am I just gonna completely stand out and get caught immediately?”

You all stepped onto the service elevator. Max scoffed. “There’ll be humans there. Probably. I think.” The doors closed and the elevator began to descend. “Look, it’s gonna be bussin. If there’s anything you can rely on rich people for, it’s throwing a great party. Right? Right. It’ll be so lit, no one will even notice we’re there.”

Immediately upon exiting the elevator on the first floor, you realized this wasn’t the sort of party Max had anticipated. The music wasn’t the ear-popping bassy music you would here in a club. There was a live band but the music they played was sort of jazzy and tame. At least the lighting was low. There was an attempt at Halloween decorations that you might call “tasteful.” The color scheme was black, white and gold, with black and white-painted pumpkins and hundreds of candles placed artfully around the huge main room, where the band was playing in front of a large dance floor. There were a few monsters standing around with drinks. No one was dancing.

“Well…” Max cleared his throat. “It’s still early! The party’s just winding up!”

“This sucks,” Catty groused.

“Food!” said Bratty.

“Where?!” At once, the girls scurried off in the direction of a waiter carrying hors d’oeuvres.

“Hey, wait a minute!” Max went after them, presumably to stop them from attacking the waiter like a pair of starving raccoons.

“Hey,” BP caught your attention, led you over to a corner, and ducked his head to talk discretely.

“What’s up?”

“You didn’t tell me you were gonna dress as a skeleton,” he said apprehensively.

“Uh. No? Should I have?” you asked.

“Um. No.”

“Ok?”

“Maybe just. Try to stay under the radar. It won’t be that hard ‘cause you’re, you know.”

“I’m not-“ You snorted. “I’m average height for a human.”

“Sure.”

“What’s wrong with my costume?”

“Hey look, alcohol!” BP chased down a server who was carrying cocktails and snagged a couple. With a drink in your hand, you decided to let it go for now.

A little while later, your group reconvened. “There’s so much free shit here!!” Catty exclaimed. “Max was right! This place IS bussin!”

“Can we give the word ‘bussin’ a rest for a little bit?” BP muttered. He was already starting to get that zoned-out dead-eyed look he got when he was drunk.

“I think Catty’s bussin,” said Bratty.

“That’s, like, sooo sweet,” said Catty. “I think you’re bussin too!”

“This night is bussin!” Max raised his drink. “Let’s do one of those things!”

“A shot?” guessed Catty.

“No, a-“

“A toast,” you grinned and raised your glass. “To getting completely sloshed on drinks that’re more expensive than our monthly grocery budget!”

“For free!” added Max.

“For free!” You clinked your glasses together, tipped them back, and drank.

An hour into this and the shitty music was starting to sound pretty damn good. Your group had found a soft couch on the balcony overlooking the dancefloor. It was a great place to sit and watch the most boring crowd in existence. Rich people didn’t dance, apparently. There was a lot of talking happening. A few more humans had filtered in, maybe thirty or so, still outnumbered by monsters. There were lots of very extravagant costumes, but most of the men were just wearing formal suits, maybe with a mask or a fun hat, but often without.

“Holy shit!” Max elbowed you sharply in the ribs.

“Ow! Damn it. What?”

Max just pointed. A goat monster had arrived. Jesus, he was enormous, towering over most of the crowd. “Asgore.” You had seen him on TV.

“Big deal, dude,” Max said. “Big boss man.” 

“So, wait,” you said slowly, eyes scanning the crowd. “Is everyone… are most of the people here mobsters?”

“Yeah,” BP piped up, staring into his drink. “Pretty much.”

Asgore was talking to an older human in a pinstripe suite. You tried to imagine what they could be talking about, always in mindful, coded speech. Focusing on mutual interests and dancing around conflict. Or circling closer to it. Your head spun.

“I’m getting more champagne,” you said, getting carefully to your feet.

“Need help-?” BP started to get up.

“Nah, I’m good. Be right back.”

The servers in the main room were all occupied, so you turned down one of the hallways that branched off into smaller, intimate lounge areas. It became clear there weren’t any servers running around here, so you turned back, but paused as you heard raised voices in one of the rooms.

“It ain’t like you’re the big dog in town no more. Not after tonight.”

“’fraid i don’t know what you mean, bud.”

You sidled up to the door, which was ajar, and peeked through the crack. The speakers were just out of sight. One of them had an impossibly deep, gravelly voice. You were almost certain they were a monster. The other sounded like a young man, very agitated. 

“Not after everyone hears you’re a fuckin’ fairy.”

There was a beat of silence. “that so?”

“Yeah. It is. An’ my boss don’t work with perverts. Just so you know. You made a big mistake showin’ up lookin’ like a two-cent hooker in front of-!”

There was a thud and scraping of chair legs. The speakers had stepped into view. There was a monster crowding a human up against the wall, one hand fisted in his collar. You could see the man was being lifted to meet the monster’s eye level, the heals of his feet not reaching the ground. The hand not holding the man up was holding a glass of clear liquor. The monster paused to take a drink before speaking.

“my turn,” said the monster, gruff but quiet. “you must have some big swinging balls, i’ll give ya that.” He leaned closer, grew ever quieter so that you strained to hear. “you think i give a rat’s ass what you or any human think o’ me?”

“Yeah,” the man wheezed. “I do. In fact, you can’t even hurt me. ‘Cause you’d be completely fucked if you did. Your boss is only negotiating with us ‘cause we have his dick in a ringer. Your little drag show isn’t helping anyone take him seriously either.”

The glass in the monster’s hand shattered, right next to the man’s head.  The man flinched, liquor splattering onto his face.

“things change, pal,” growled the monster. “an’ i never forget a face.”

“Embarrassing,” the man said shakily, clinging to his last shreds of composure. “You showed up ‘n embarrassed everyone you know. Embarrassed yourself. Let go of me.”

Before the monster could respond, a booming voice came from further down the hallway, making you jump. “SANS!”

The monster’s head snapped toward the doorway, their grip on the human’s collar loosening. The man jerked out of their hold and stumbled to the other side of the room. The monster took a step toward the door and for just an instant, you got a clear few of them: black velvet opera gloves, a black dress that draped elegantly over the shoulders with a stiff popped collar and deep V-neck, a horned black leather headdress reminiscent of Maleficent. The monster was dripping in gold jewelry. Shiny red and gold pigments curled over their face in wicked tendrils, like flames bursting from their eyes. Eye sockets, rather. They were a skeleton.  

As they approached the door you backed away and threw yourself into a room on the other side of the hall, ducked behind a couch and prayed that they hadn’t seen you.

“SANS!” It was that shrill voice again. “SANS! SA- Ah Mr. Grayson, Wonderful To See You Again. I See You’ve Met My Ne’er Do Well Brother.”

“Uh, yeah, charmed an’ all that,” said the human. “I was just headin’ to the can.”

“Oh, Eh, Certainly! Can Away!” said the new monster in a manner that suggested he didn’t know what ‘the can’ was. The human’s footsteps retreated down the hall. “What Are You Doing Here?! Sulking?!”

“what’s it to you?”

“Sans This Is The Very Worst Time To Act Like An Insufferable Buffoon,” the second monster growled. “Why Did The Grayson Human Look… Disheveled?”

“that guy’s a fuckin’ creep.”

The second monster let out a beleaguered moan. “Come With Me.”

“i’m good here.”

“YOU ARE COMING WITH ME AND THAT’S FINAL! I Need To Keep An Eye On You.”

After a pause, the first monster said, “after you then, boss.”

When they had left, you cautiously slipped out the door, down the hall, and up the stairs onto the landing where your friends still sat.

“Where you been?” Max squinted at you.

You collapsed, boneless, onto the couch. “They were out of champagne.” 

Catty sat up suddenly. “That’s the last straw!”

“Yeah!” said Bratty.

“This place blows!”

“Majorly!”

“Also,” Catty continued, “those guys over there have totally been giving us death stares for a few minutes now.” You all turned to see two lizard monsters in suits glaring at you. When you made eye contact, they got up from their seats and started to approach.

“Yeah, it’s time to leave.” Max hopped to his feet and led the group swiftly down the stairs, skirting around the crowd, and finally out the emergency exit, until they were back in the alleyway where they had started. It was still raining. The thunder was softer now, a low rumble off in the distance.

“Ok!” Max said cheerfully, when he’d confirmed they weren’t being followed. “Where to now?”

“The Attic?” suggested BP.

“Um,” Catty cut in. “First, we’re going upstairs to get my fucking stuff!”

“Yeah, yeah, I didn’t forget,” Max grumbled. He leapt up to the fire escape and lowered the ladder so you could all climb up.

You decided to hang outside and wait while the monsters went back in through the window. You could hear bits and pieces of their conversation, mostly snarking at each other over the mess Catty had made in the bathroom.

“Just throw everything in the bag!”

“This shit is expensive! Don’t touch anything! I have a system!!”

“She has a system!!!”

“You’re both insane.”

“Wait, I need to touch up my mascara.”

Max let out a frustrated groan.

You leaned on the railing and watched the rain fall. It masked most of the city noise and made even the alleyway air smell fresh and earthy. The wind shifted and you shivered slightly. Somewhere, one of these clubs had to be serving pumpkin spice bourbon and playing the Monster Mash. You had a sudden craving for apple cider and Kit Kat bars. Your friends had only been on the surface for two years, and you couldn’t help but feel it was your responsibility to impart the true meaning of Halloween upon them. And that wouldn’t be accomplished until you’d all eaten a mountain of cheap candy, barfed it back up, and egged some poor bastard’s Lamborghini.

 A brief increase in the volume of the music downstairs drew your attention to the exit below you. A large figure had burst through the door, letting it swing shut behind them. It was the skeleton monster from before, you realized. You could make out the horned headdress, which was askew now, and flashes of white bone. They paced up and down the alleyway for a few minutes, rubbing aggressively at their face, the fabric of their dress billowing impressively behind them. They collapsed against a wall, slid down onto the pavement. They curled up, head dropping into their hands, and just sat there in the rain.

You watched them for a bit, unsure what to do next. You decided to creep down the stairs to get a better look, as stealthy as you could be on the iron grating, relying on the rain to muffle the sound. You could now see the skeleton was digging the heels of their hands into their eye sockets, as if plugging a leak. They were trembling.

You cleared your throat. “Uh, hey…”

The skeleton’s head shot up. It was dark down here, away from the streetlights, but you could clearly see the skeleton’s pupils; two points of red light gleaming in the shadows. You steeled yourself, climbed down the ladder and took a few steps in the monster’s direction. The skeleton vigorously scrubbed at their face again as you approached. They looked you up and down warily.  “who the fuck…?” That gravelly voice was unmistakable.

“I’m Y/N. I was just, uh…” You gestured vaguely. “On the fire escape…”

“right…”

“Are you ok?”

The skeleton looked absolutely bewildered. Up close, you could see that their makeup was ruined, smeared all over their face, making a few dark tracks down their cheeks that they had failed to obscure by smearing with their hands. That could just be from the rain, you reasoned. You kind of doubted it.

“I saw you at the party,” you blurted. Not at all in a creepy way. The skeleton’s eyes grew wider, if that were possible. “Kinda sucked, right? The, uh, party? My group ditched, and we’re heading over to The Attic. It’s a club, if you don’t know it. Downtown. They have a spooky sort of aesthetic normally, so I figure for Halloween, they’ll go whole hog.” You were babbling.

“sans.”

“What?”

“my name?”

“Oh! Shit. Yeah. Sorry. Good, yes, cool name.” God this was so awkward, what was wrong with you? This monster had been so fucking imposing when you first saw them, and overpoweringly cool. That was still true, somehow. Curled up in an alleyway with streaks of red, black, and gold on their face, their expression kind of lost and dazed. You felt that expression- in your bones, you might say. It reminded you of those moments in the dead of night, when you were too fucked up, or not fucked up enough, when you weren’t just alone, you were profoundly alone. Perhaps permanently alone.

“You should come with us,” you found yourself saying.

“uh,” they said.

“Really. If you want, we can get you cleaned up upstairs.” 

“i…” Sans said haltingly, and seemed to search for something in your face. “ok. yeah.”

You smiled and offered your hand. “My pronouns at they/them, by the way.”

“oh, uh. he/him.” He grasped your hand and you helped pull him to his feet.

Sans followed you up the fire escape stairs to the third floor, where you suddenly remembered you would have to jump through the fucking window again.

“Ok. Fuck. Ok, nothing to it.” You started to climb up onto the railing, when Sans stopped you with a hand on your shoulder. You turned back to look at him, and in the next moment you were on the other side of the window, in the fancy bathroom. “What?!”

Sans shrugged blithely. “magic.”

You gaped at him for a minute then shook your head. “Ok? Ok, um. We’re here! What were we doing?”

The bathroom was empty now. You could hear your friends squabbling in the hallway outside. You found a bunch of paper towels, wet some in the sink, and approached Sans with newfound confidence. As you touched the lukewarm towel to his face he went stock-still, clearly not expecting it, but didn’t pull away.

This was rather more intimate than you had anticipated. His eyes were trained on your face, and you were determined not to meet his gaze this close-up. You concentrated on carefully wiping off the makeup right around his eyes. His face had some give to it, kind of like human flesh. Beneath the makeup, he had dark reddish circles under his eye sockets.

“’re you supposed ta have a skull face?”

“Hm?” Startled, you looked up and -shit- made eye contact, then quickly looked back at what you were doing. “Uh, sort of? I can’t do makeup, that was Catty’s job. So I can’t exactly complain.”

Sans hummed pensively. “why a skeleton?”

You felt yourself flush with embarrassment. “Um, Halloween, you know? Spooky scary skeletons. They send shivers down your spine! Unless that’s offensive, in which case… oops.” This actually coaxed a laugh out of Sans, which you felt absurdly proud about.

You soon finished cleaning his face and took a step back to appraise your work. “Looks good. Now, if you want to redo your makeup- hang on one sec.”

You turned and rushed out of the bathroom. You found your friends in the middle of an argument over where to go next. “We already said we’re going to The Attic,” you said impatiently.

“Y/N?” Max said in surprise.

“Catty, can I borrow your makeup bag?”

“Um, I guess?” She grabbed it out of the duffel bag and offered it to you. “Don’t you, like, need my help?”

“No, I’m good. I’ll be right out!”

You returned to the bathroom and offered Sans the bag. He fished through it and pulled out a couple products. “i’ll be quick,” he said.

You leaned on the counter and shrugged. “No worries. It’s actually still pretty early.” It was a little past midnight; officially October 31. You had a whole 24 hours of spooky bedlam ahead of you. You watched Sans through the mirror as he applied eyeshadow with confident strokes and practiced precision. He had big hands, broad like the rest of him, but they were dexterous.

He glanced at you through the mirror and you cringed like you’d been caught doing something indecent. “I can wait outside-“

“nah. almost done.” He’d gone with something much less complex and dramatic than the original look, but he was pretty. Stunning, if you were honest. He adjusted his headdress, fully restoring that striking black silhouette, sharp and serpentine. It was a decadent, vicious kind of beauty; not something you could pull off but something you could look at for a while.

Rather than returning the products to the bag, Sans found some makeup remover, looked at you and gestured toward the counter. “hop up.”

“Huh?” You said dumbly.

“it’s your turn,” said Sans.

“Oh! You don’t need to do that.”

He shrugged. “your choice.”

Nervously, you hoisted yourself up to sit on the counter and he closed in on you, delicately wiping the makeup from your face. He briefly retreated, then returned with products. You could see black, white, gray and, surprisingly, a bright neon blue. There was a velvet-clad thumb and finger under your chin, gently leading you to face forward, and he went in sketching out his pattern with an eyeliner pencil.

This time you could watch him while he was focused on his work, but he kept glancing up to meet your eyes. You were grateful when he asked you to close them so he could get to your eyelids. He spent some time on your nose, a lot more time on your lips and jaw. You could feel him drawing teeth and going over it several times.

When he was finished and you turned around you just stared in the mirror for a bit, speechless. Your eyes looked fucking gorgeous. The bottom half of your face was jet black, and he’d used the neon blue to draw a detailed nasal cavity, mandible and set of teeth. “You’re amazing at this,” you breathed.

Sans’ grin grew smug. “i could be humble, but, fuck it. i am amazing.”

“Legit talent,” you agreed.

“no bones about it.”

“You better. Uh. Mandible-eive it!”

Sans stopped midstride, hissed in a breath through his teeth and clutched at his chest like he’d been stabbed. “oh, ow, kid that was…” He started to laugh, a deep belly laugh. “the worst thing i’ve ever heard!” You laughed too, a bit embarrassed but more so delighted.

When you finally exited the bathroom, Max jumped to his feet. “Good god, finally! What, did you get the-“ He stopped short when he saw Sans. “Holy shit.”

Sans tilted his head toward Max in greeting. “nice cream guy.”

The girls looked freaked too, but Burgerpants had gone stiff as a board. His fur had poofed out and he looked ready to either bolt or faint.

“Haha, um, what is he-“ Max started to address you, then thought better of it. “No offense or nothin, but what are you doing here?”

“He’s coming to the club with us,” you said firmly.

“What happened to your makeup?” asked Catty.

“Oh, uh, it got smudged really bad, so Sans offered to redo it,” you said. “Yours looked awesome too, though.”

She came nearer and inspected you closely. “You. Look. Like. So. Totally HOT!” she squealed.

“Wait. Hang on,” said Max. “So he’s- I mean, you’re going with us?”

“YES!” Catty cheered, and you and Bratty quickly got on board. “YES! YES! YES!”

“Uh…” Max exchanged a stressed look with BP. “Uh ok? Um, let me call a bigger Uber…” He pulled out his phone.

Sans smiled good-naturedly. “i’ll pay for it. thanks fer havin’ me.”

Max relaxed considerably. “Oh! Cool, that’s cool of you. Great, so it should be here pretty soon. I think we’d better leave back through the window, so we don’t draw any more attention.”

You and the others groaned.

Max rolled his eyes. “It’s not that bad. Don’t be pussies.”

Sans walked over to a door by the bathroom, unlocked it, and pushed it open. It led out onto the fire escape.

You and your friends stood stunned for a moment.

“Are you kidding me?!” BP rounded on Max. “We didn’t all have to risk breaking our necks jumping through a window if you’d just unlocked the door??”

Sans chuckled, gold tooth glinting. “yer a buncha fuckin idiots.”

Chapter Text

The Attic was a bonanza of corny Halloween decorations. Paper mache ghosts and plastic bats hung from the ceiling. Cobwebs stretched over the bar, the light fixtures, the DJ’s booth. A projector cast ghostly images on the walls. The DJ was using a lot of evil laughter and werewolf howls to transition between songs.

When you and your companions arrived, Season of the Witch was playing, and you immediately found yourself humming along on the way to bar. You got drinks, and your group claimed a table in a little enclave in the back of the club. You sat next to Sans, who had Bratty on his other side. You had to admit, he stuck out in this environment. He was polished and expensive, while you and your friends were sewer rats at the best of times, very low on the social totem pole. You reassured yourself, however, that drunkenness was a powerful equalizer. You all got a head start with the free booze from earlier and the money your group had pooled on the ride here was more than enough to send everyone past the point of giving a shit who is or isn’t a powerful figure in the crime syndicate.  

Bratty offered you a sip of her candy corn cocktail, which you accepted and then gagged at the taste of.

“I don’t know what I was expecting,” you said, and tried to wash the sickening sweetness down with a big gulp of your bloody Mary.

“It’s good!” Bratty insisted.

“We need a second opinion. Here, BPants!” You offered Bratty’s drink to BP.

“What?” He eyed the drink suspiciously.

“Try it! It’s disgusting!”

“… yeah, no, I’ll pass.”

“I’ll try it,” said Max, and you handed it over. He took a sip and actually spit in out all over the table.

“Oh, that’s nice! Thank you so much, you gross asshole!” BP, who was sitting beside Max, scooted out of the booth and went to find napkins.

“Did you have to spit it out?” Bratty sneered at Max and made grabby motions for him to give her drink back. “You’re like the biggest drama queen on the planet.”

You laughed. “For real, now who’s the pussy?”

Max wiped his mouth. “That was foul.”

Catty leered at him. “Now we know, guys. Max doesn’t swallow.”

Bratty laughed, “and Y/N does!”

You winked at her. “I sure do.”

Just then, the first notes of Britney’s Toxic played over the speakers, causing Catty to squeal with excitement. She and Bratty practically climbed over Max in their haste to get on the dance floor. Bratty only paused to pull you along with her.

Catty and Bratty were excellent dance partners; funny, enthusiastic, and expressive. They had their insecurities but they also had this marvelous talent of shutting off their inhibitions when the mood struck them. You caught sight of BP trying to make his way back to the table and intercepted him, dragged him by the elbow over to the girls to be the fourth in your little dance party. BP danced stiffly, a little reluctantly. It always took him time to loosen up. He abandoned you when the song ended, still determined to wipe up the table. Max showed up and danced for a few songs.

At one point you turned to see Sans on the dance floor. He approached you until he was very close, staring into your face, his expression unreadable. You never danced like this with near-strangers, preferring to keep your distance unless you were familiar with your partner. You struggled to adjust to this very abrupt shift in atmosphere, feeling clumsy and slow. The alcohol had your body buzzing; a warm fizzy soda pop kind of sensation that was pleasant, but you were vaguely aware that you weren’t at your most coordinated.

Sans’ gaze was much too serious. You did a silly wiggly movement with your arms. The edges of his grin twitched upwards and his eye sockets crinkled with mirth. He mimicked the movement. You laughed, and your nerves began to lift. Sans was flirtatious, you discovered. Good at reading your body language. A decent dancer.

You both grew bolder as you became more comfortable, edging closer to each other. At some point he put his huge hands on your hips, which was unexpected but sent a little thrill up your spine. You rested your hands on his shoulders, fiddled with his collar, your eyes lingering on his chin, his mouth, the leather choker around his neck.

Catty caught your eye, gesturing at you and pointing at the bar. You assumed she was asking if you wanted to get another round with her. You gently extricated yourself from Sans’ grasp, silently indicating you were going to the bar. He nodded. Did he look disappointed? It was hard to tell. But part of you was grateful for the chance to deescalate the situation as it had been getting kind of intense.

You and Catty waited while the bartender was helping other patrons.

“You two are getting friendly,” Catty giggled. Her fur was mussed on one side of her head.

“Uh,” you said, coming up blank. “I guess?”

“Get it!” she said. “Tap that coccyx!”

You smiled wryly. “I ‘preciate the support.”

“Y/N, Y/N! C’mere.” Catty lowered her voice, pulled you closer, and glanced around like she was afraid someone would overhear.

You chuckled. “What?”

“Guess what I did at that rich people party!” Catty popped open her purse and tipped it a little toward you so you could get a good look at the contents. “I stole this shit!” She said, struggling to keep her voice down in her excitement.

“Oh my god dude…” Catty’s purse was full of gold and silver bracelets, rings, credit cards, watches, even a few car keys. You knew Catty had a tendency to lift items from stores but you hadn’t realized how bold she had gotten recently. You also quickly realized you were too drunk to be all that concerned about it. You found yourself laughing. “There’s so much!”

Catty was cackling. You put out a hand to steady her as she swayed dangerously. “Don’t tell Bratty,” she said, her voice marginally more sober.

You suspected Bratty would be as supportive of this development as she was of everything else Catty did, but you nodded.

Back at the table, you found BP slumped in the booth alone, nursing his drink. You smoothed the fur between his ears. They flattened against his head and he shook you off. Good, you thought. Not quite blackout drunk, then.

“D’you have work in the morning?” you asked, raising your voice over the music.

BP made a noise of disgust. “Yes? Maybe? Who cares?”

You nodded thoughtfully. “You know what’s up with Catty?”

“Whatcha mean?” said BP blearily.

You shrugged. “Never mind.”

“You shouldn’t have invited him,” BP said.

“What?”

“You shouldn’t’ve invited… you know.”

“… do you want to ditch him?”

BP laughed a weird, strained laugh. “Fuck no. I’m not ready to die.”

You frowned. The nagging fear in the back of your mind felt distant, like something bad would happen, but to someone else. You knew that could be the alcohol talking. You knew BP knew better than you when it came to the monster mob. “You serious?”

BP looked away, slid his empty glass away from him. “Prolly fine,” he said finally. “Just. Watch your back. No one really knows what Sans’ll do next. I dunno if he knows.”

Unbidden, Spooky Scary Skeletons started playing in your head for the second time that night. You offered a smile that you hoped was reassuring. “We’ll play nice tonight, then we won’t have to see him again.”

BP looked somewhat skeptical. After a long pause, he said, “we should dance.”

BP liked his space, something Catty, Bratty, and Max all tended to ignore when they danced with him. When he was drunk, he was comfortable taking your hands, as much for the purposes of dancing as keeping his balance. He was more fun than most people gave him credit for.

When you began to feel dizzy, you figured you would sit down for a bit, but halted on your way to the table when you got a good look at its occupants. Bratty was sitting in the booth with Catty in her lap kissing her ferociously. Catty gripped Bratty’s face like she would drown if she let go. Bratty’s manicured hands rested on Catty’s waist, tugging her closer.

You remembered to avert your eyes at that point and quickly walked off in the direction of the bathrooms, the only other place you could think of to get some shelter from the noise and the crowd. The bathrooms were down a narrow hallway at the back of the club. It was lined with carpeting to dampen sound.

“fancy meetin’ you here.” Sans was propped against the wall toward the end of the hallway. He took a slow drag off the cigar in his hand.

“Uh,” you stuttered. “I don’t know if you should, uh…?” You glanced pointedly at the smoke detector a few feet away.

Sans opened his mouth and smoke tumbled from between his teeth. “’s busted.”

“Fucking fire hazard,” you muttered, and moved to lean against the wall next to him. “You doin’ ok?”

Sans didn’t answer, but offered you his cigar. You hesitated. Perhaps it would be rude to decline? You had never smoked one, and the chance may never present itself again. You took it, considered it (it looked way too big in your hands), brought it to your mouth and inhaled. Your eyes watered as you tried and failed to suppress a cough. Sans laughed, which irritated you.

“you inhaled,” he said.

“Well. Yeah?” You tried to hand the cigar back.

“you don’t gotta do that. just hold it in your mouth.” Sans’ voice was all hot cocoa and smooth whiskey. Dark chocolate ganache with a cherry on top. You licked your lips and tried again, just holding the smoke in your mouth for a few seconds. You tasted cherries this time.

“better?”

You nodded. You caught San’s eyes drifting down your body. You looked down at yourself and realized the bones on your clothes were glowing brightly in the dim space, which was embarrassing, but you were determined not to think about that. Chocolate, your brain supplied. I want candy.

You looked at Sans. “D’you wanna get out of here?”

His expression shifted. Then you realized that had sounded very much like a proposition of a different nature and you scrambled to correct yourself before he could say anything.

“Halloween!” You blurted. “It’s… I know monsters didn’t, y’know, trick-or-treat or anything like that underground. But I feel like we should all eat candy now. It’s my Halloween intuition. My Hallo-ition…” You had to stop babbling around this fucking gangster. “My intu-ween…”

 Sans laughed heartily. His face was dusted with red, which you figured was to do with drink. “i don’t really do candy, sweetheart.” You deflated a little. “but I wouldn’t object ta watchin’ you eat it.”

Your face was hot. You pushed off the wall and awkwardly gestured for Sans to follow you. “We should, uh… round everybody up then!”

You and Sans found Max chatting up a human who was dressed like a bumblebee. Max agreed to go, but wrote his number on the human’s arm before he left. BP was asleep at the table where Catty and Bratty had thankfully stopped making out. You, Max, and BP knew not to comment on their smeared lipstick. It actually looked good in an 80’s grunge kind of way.

It had finally stopped raining. It was damp and cold outside, but the crisp air felt good after the sweltering club. The bright white light inside the convenience store made you squint and rub your eyes. It felt like one of those scenes in the movies where you get abducted by aliens and the inside of the ship is so bright you can barely see the Greys. You somehow made your way to the candy aisle.

“Let’s just get, like, a bunch of everything,” you said.

“We’ve got…” Max took way too long to count the group’s remaining money, losing track and having to start over several times. “$2.85.”

“Shit, ok, uh-“ You shuffled the candy around in your arms and started to put the 3 Musketeers back. 

“i got it,” said Sans. “get whatever.”

You looked at him, starry-eyed. “Really??”

Sans shrugged a little. “it’s just candy.”

“It’s the most important thing in my life right now.”

“ok, weirdo.”

“It’s not weird!” Catty said, and surprised you with a hug that nearly brought you both to the ground. “It’s, like, the most beautiful thing ever.”

Bratty leaned down to hug you too. “Humans are like so totally cute!”

Bratty and Catty helped you raid the candy aisle. With candy purchased, you and your friends walked to a small park down the road and got comfortable on the playground equipment. You and Catty were the only ones small enough for the swings. Bratty and BP perched in the monkey bars, Max lounged on a plastic yellow slide, and Sans sat on the little merry-go-round.

“A lot of this stuff has chemicals in it that’re banned in other countries,” you said cheerfully as the monsters dug around in their shopping bags and pulled out the candies that most intrigued them. The chocolate was sweeter than you remembered, on the edge of too-sweet. But a Snickers was a Snickers. It was good.

“So, this is Halloween,” said BP. “We just eat candy?”

“I’ll admit buying it from a 7-11 doesn’t have quite the same mystique as trick-or-treating,” you said, breaking open a box of Reese’s Pieces.

“Is it true, what they say will happen if you don’t pay up?” Max popped a Gushers in his mouth. “Gimme the treat or you get the trick!”

“Trick?” asked Catty.

“Like throwing toilet paper all over someone’s house!”

Catty frowned, underwhelmed. “So not like, breaking in and smashing all their shit?”

“That crosses over from prank territory into more of a felony,” you said.

“Hm.” Catty stuffed a bunch of gummy bears in her mouth.

“And kids do this ‘cause they didn’t get candy?” BP asked. He sniffed at a Tootsie Pop like he was checking for poison.

You shrugged. “I guess, for some kids. But pranks or vandalism or whatever were usually reserved for actual enemies.”

“Enemies, you say?” You had Max’s full attention now.

“Yeah like, a teacher you don’t like. Or the principal of your school,” you said. “Or the neighbor that broke your fucking skateboard with their creepy fucking pedo van and wouldn’t replace it.” You crushed the candy packaging in your fist and threw it with force at a trashcan.

Max whistled. “Some unresolved issues there?”  

“Don’t know what you mean,” you replied, aloof.

“We should do it!” said Catty suddenly.

“Fuck yes, we should!” agreed Max.

You blinked at them. “What? TP a house? Whose house, though?”

“What about your asshole neighbor?” said Max.

You shook your head. “No idea where he lives now.”

“Boooo,” Catty pouted.

“let’s do it.” Everyone turned to Sans, who had a wicked smile on his face. “i know a place.”

It was a three-story townhouse in an extremely nice neighborhood. Pristine hedges, a large bay window and neat little portico. All the lights were off but there was a car parked behind an iron gate in the drive. The car was intimidating; a huge, sleek Mercedes-Benz. 

Max, Bratty, and Catty were buzzing with excitement. You felt the need to remind them you weren’t here to smash shit.

“Yeah yeah yeah.” Catty was already grabbing rolls of toilet paper from the packages they’d picked up at a 24/7 drug store.

“This house?” BP said, keeping his voice down. He was looking at Sans, his ears laid back, hunched slightly as though he were fighting the urge to cower. “Really?”

Sans’ grin only broadened. “just a little harmless fun.” He picked up a roll and chucked it. It got impressive air, landing in a gutter, rolling, bouncing, and unraveling until it eventually got lodged in the corner of the roof. A single ribbon of toilet paper dangled from the gutter, waving eerily in breeze.

“Good throw,” you muttered. Sans startled you by leaning in close and pressing another roll into your hand. He smelled of cherries, smoke and whiskey. He looked at you expectantly, so you threw the second roll. It barely crested above the first story, but arced over the portico as it unraveled, and came to rest among the hedges.

You looked up to find that Catty, Bratty, and Max had all joined in. Catty let out a hoot of delight and Bratty quickly covered her mouth. “Catty! You’ll wake everyone up!” They both started giggling.

You turned and offered a roll to BP, who flinched like you were handing him a venomous snake. He seemed to consider taking it, glancing between you, Sans, and the house. He stepped back. “I- I can’t…”

You appraised him with concern. You were still foggy from the alcohol. It was hard to judge how alarmed you should be. “That’s ok…” you said. “You don’t have to.” Sans gave BP a once-over, hmphed, and turned away to throw more TP.

In a few minutes, the townhouse and the surrounding fence and hedges were covered in toilet paper. “Fucking beautiful,” Max said, wiping an imaginary tear from his cheek.

“one last thing,” Sans reached into the bottom of a bag and pulled out two cartons of eggs, then headed around the side of the fence closest to the Benz.

“Oh shit,” you whispered. “That’s for…?” Eggs were a vandals’ favorite for a reason; the yolk would eat right through paint, really fuck up a car.

“sure is.” Sans threw an egg through the bars of the fence. It smashed with considerable force against the side of the car, splattering yolk and albumen.

You don’t know why you hadn’t expected the car alarm. Of course there would be an alarm, but you and your friends all jumped when it blared to life.

“Fuck!” squealed Catty.

“That was fun, time to go!” said Max. He grabbed the shopping bags you all had accumulated and booked it down the street with Catty and Bratty close behind him.

You and BP were about to follow, when you realized Sans wasn’t done. He threw three more eggs in quick succession. His grin from earlier was more of a snarl now. A light switched on in a room on the third floor of the house.

“Sans! We have to go!” you said. He ignored you, or couldn’t hear you through the rage building in him.

BP tugged on your elbow. “Leave him!” he pleaded.

The second story of the townhouse lit up as its occupant hurried downstairs. The car alarm rang in your ears. Your head spun. You were in a terrible state to be making decisions like this.

The second egg carton popped open, apparently on its own. Then all the eggs left in both cartons were encompassed in bright red magic. They rose into the air, surrounded the car, and all collided with it at once, with enough force that you could see dents in the fucking thing. 

Before you could react, Sans had you by the wrist and you were both running in the direction your other friends had gone. San’s dress was billowing out behind him. He was moving incredibly fast for a drunk skeleton in high heels. You looked back to see BP close behind, and a figure that had emerged from the townhouse- an enormous figure. Incredibly tall and thin.

An animalistic screech pierced the night, sending a chill up your spine. Soon after, you heard a voice that you quickly recognized. It was the voice of the monster you’d heard berating Sans at the party. “MY CAR!!!”

You, Sans and BP caught up to the rest of the group a few blocks down. You were all a panting, shaking mess. Even Sans was sweaty.

“We need… to get far away from here,” BP said between gasps. “Like, now. Like, yesterday.”

Max squinted down the dark street. “Looks like no one’s chasing us.”

“Oh god I hope he didn’t see me,” BP said. “Home. We all need to go home.”

Max scoffed, but Bratty was nodding. “Tired,” she yawned.

“That was like, so much fucking fun,” Catty said. “But I’m ready to crash. Like so hard, like do not reboot.”

“That sounds good,” you agreed. Max relented and called up an Uber. While you waited, you turned to Sans. “Do you need some place to crash?”

“eh…” Sans hesitated, looking away. “i don’t want ta… y’know. impose…”

“It’s no problem. You can sleep on our couch.”

The look on BP’s face said it very much was a problem, but he said nothing.

“… sure. thanks.”

The apartment you and BP shared was tiny but relatively clean. By the time you made it to your front door, you were all dead on your feet. BP muttered “g’night” and immediately went to his room. You and Sans sat on the couch, which was a mistake because it was much too comfy to ever get up again.

“Can I get you a blanket or somethin’?” you mumbled, but it may have come out as gibberish.

“nah…” said Sans.

The low glow of the bathroom light and the streetlamp through the kitchen window were the only illumination in the room. It was quiet at this time of night- or morning, rather. The air conditioning unit hummed placidly above your head. You slumped down until you were laying on your back, glad you had a big sectional. Sans laid down perpendicular to you, his head next to yours.

“tonight was fun.”

You laughed softly. “Yeah.”

“so, thanks. i guess,” Sans said. “not that i needed you to…”

“I know…” you said. “Thanks for coming.”

There was a long pause. “it just feels better sometimes,” he said quietly. “i’m good in a suit. even better in shorts an’ a sweatshirt. But it just… it feels…”

“don’t gotta explain,” you said dimly.

“…yeah.”

“I’m gonna turn on my side. So I don’t, y’know, asphic… ashfixi. Not breath no more.” And you did, facing Sans and dimly hoping he was chill with that. You were fading fast, struggling to focus on Sans’ voice. Your vision blurred and spun. “You good?” you mumbled.

“yeah.” Sans snorted. “ya can stop askin.”

“I think it’s time to go sleeping. Go… to sleep, is what I…” You began to float off.

“free,” you heard Sans say through the fog of sleep. “is what it feels like.”

Chapter Text

“How do you tell someone they’re bad at sex?”

Max nearly choked on his coffee. “Fucking what?”

Bratty squirmed, fidgeting with her drink. “I just don’t want to hurt his feelings…”

Catty made a big show of rolling her eyes. “He’s such a loser!”

Bratty shot a glare at her. “I like him.”

“Uuuuuugh.” Catty let herself fall backward onto the pier and lay there dramatically.

It was a grey afternoon. More like morning for you and the gang, as you were all hungover and had slept in, with the exception of Max. He was always out with his nice cream cart bright and early, regardless of the amount of sleep, drugs, or alcohol from the previous night. He was manning the cart now, but no customers were about on such a dreary day. The whole boardwalk was nearly empty. Cold, salty air blew in from the ocean. You sat bundled in your coat and knit hat, warming your stiff fingers on your cup of coffee, next to Catty and BP.

“So, Nathan can’t fuck.” Max tittered, thoroughly enjoying this news.

“He can, it’s just…”

“He’s bad at it,” said Max. “Bad sex is even worse than no sex.”

“Dump him,” said Catty.

“Ugh, you know what? Forget I said anything,” said Bratty.

“Haha, no wait,” Max said quickly. “What exactly is he bad at?”

“… he’s not a great kisser. And… IDK, other stuff. He’s cute and I like him but he’s…”

“Stupid,” supplied Catty. Bratty ignored her.

“Have you tried telling him what you like?” you asked. “Like, specifically?”

“Yeah, I’ve tried. I mean, a little bit.” Bratty looked down at her hands. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Yeah,” you said sympathetically. “Maybe think about what you want to say beforehand? It could really help.”

“But what do I say?”

“You say ‘bye, bitch,’” interrupted Catty. “And you delete his fucking number.”

“Omigod Catty, you just- GOD! You know what?” Bratty glared at Catty for a moment, then gave a frustrated huff, got to her feet, and stormed off down the pier.

“What? Wait!” Catty leapt to her feet as well.

“Don’t follow me!” Bratty shouted over her shoulder.

Catty hurried after her. “I’m sorry, ok?? I don’t know why you’re bugging out about it!”

“Uh. Should we…?” you trailed off, pointing after the girls.

“Nah,” said Max. “They gotta work out their issues.”

You all sat and looked out at the ocean for a few minutes. You glanced over at BP, who had been quiet and mopey all morning. He just got like that sometimes, but you had a feeling his current mood had something to do with last night. Maybe he was mad you had invited Sans to sleep in the apartment?

Sans had disappeared by the time you woke up, but he’d left his number on a post-it on the kitchen counter. You hadn’t texted him, and you weren’t sure what you would say anyway, if you ever worked up the nerve to do it. And you remembered BP saying something ominous at the club last night. That you shouldn’t have invited Sans to the club. Watch your back, he’d said. And then you’d gone and invited Sans into yours and BP’s home. Your stomach twisted with guilt.

You swallowed, then broke the silence. “We should do Friendsgiving.”

Max looked up. “Uh. Ok? What’s that?”

“You know Thanksgiving?”

“In the vaguest sense, yes.”

“This is like that, but with friends,” you said. “We have a big feast, maybe some decorations, then sit around all bloated and watch movies or something.”

“Pfff.” Max waved a paw dismissively. “We do that all the time.”

“I’m not talking pizza, here,” you said. “I mean delicious homemade food, dude. Casseroles, mac n’ cheese, green beans, mashed potatoes and gravy, fresh rolls, cranberry sauce, pumpkin pie-“

“Even more pumpkin?” Max laughed. “Humans are obsessed! I thought pumpkin season ended today.”

“Pumpkin season is a state of mind. It only dies when you stop believing in it,” you said. “Like Tinker Bell.”

“Who?”

“It’ll be awesome,” you pressed on. “I promise.”

Max rubbed his chin. “Who exactly is making all this food?”

“We can all make some,” you said. “Potluck style. That way, we have lots of variety. Lots of leftovers!”

“And I can’t just bring potato chips?”

You answered with a deadpan look.

He laughed. “Ok, I think I can get behind it! What about you, Droopy Drew?” Max nodded over at BP.

“Uh, yeah…” BP said distractedly. “Yeah, sounds cool.”

“We got a Moody Marvin over here,” Max grinned. “A Sulky Susan.”

BP’s ear twitched. “Ok, douche!” he said. “We get it!”

“Jeez, Salty Sam, lighten up.”

“I swear to god, Max-“

BP was cut off by the sound of a scream.

You all jumped and exchanged glances. It had come from the direction in which Bratty and Catty had gone. Without a word, you got up and ran down the pier and onto the boardwalk where a row of shops and restaurants faced the water. You stopped in front of a little café. They were nowhere in sight.

“Catty?” Max cupped his paws around his mouth and shouted. “Bratty!”

You heard no response. You hastened down the boardwalk, looking down the little alleys between shops, until movement caught your eye. There was a lizard monster, scales a rusty red color, spiky like an iguana, standing in the alleyway. They looked up and made eye contact with you, and in that moment, Catty came sprinting around a corner. She was instantly tackled by another lizard monster, grunting as she was squashed into the ground. There was cloth tied over her mouth.

“Catty!” you cried. You, BP, and Max started down the alley toward her. You felt a sharp crack to the back of the head that exploded out over your skull, and your vision started to go dark. You could hear Max shouting at the lizard monsters, a thud, and you lost consciousness.

You’d thought hangovers were bad. As you woke up you groaned, lifting your head stiffly and squinting against the harsh light. Your head was throbbing. You sort of wished they would just knock you out again.

“You ok Y/N?” came a whisper from your right. You turned to find BP and Max, both sitting in metal chairs with their hands bound behind their backs. You tried your own hands and found they were also bound.

“I’m ok. Where’s-“ you began, then Max gestured with a tilt of his head. You turned to find Catty and Bratty on your left. They were both still gagged, but conscious. They stared back at you with wide eyes.

“Those lizards were the guys from the party,” BP said. “The ones who were about to throw us out.”

“Fuck! They recognized us?” Max said.

BP scowled at him. “You weren’t even wearing a costume! And Bratty and Catty were just dressed as each other.”

“Well excuse me for not thinking, ‘oh I’d better wear a disguise in case some party goers go full psycho!’”

“We’re so stupid,” BP lamented. “They’re gonna roast us on a fucking pike! You know what they’re like. We’re fucking dead.”

“Where even are we?” said Max. You could tell you were probably in a basement. The walls were brick, the floor dusty tile, and there was a staircase leading up to a closed door. Your chairs were gathered around a large, round card table.

“What does it matter where we are?” BP exclaimed.

The door swung open and the lizard monsters appeared. They took their time slinking down the stairs, leering at you and your friends. 

“Hey, guys,” Max said. “I think there must be some mistake. See, I actually got an invite to that party. I’m-“ He glanced at you and the girls awkwardly and looked back at the lizards. “Y’know…”

“We know who ya are, nice cream guy,” said the red lizard.

“And what are these, your plus 4?” The other lizard, green with bulging chameleon eyes, sniggered.

“Well, uh. Did it really specify in the invite how many we could-?”

“This ain’t about the party,” said the red lizard.

“It did, by the way,” said the green lizard. “Plus one, like pretty much every other party ever.”

 Max offered them a supplicating grin. “Whoops.”

“Like I said, this ain’t about the party!” growled the red lizard. Abruptly, he slammed his hands down on the table and got up in Max’s face. “Where were you in the early morning of October 31^st?!”

“Wha- you mean, today?”

“Technically speakin’,” said the green lizard.

“At approximately 4 AM,” said the red lizard.

“In bed, probably,” Max said promptly. “Right guys?” You all nodded in agreement.

“Got any way to prove that?”

“Do you?” Max had gotten too cocky. The red lizard leapt across the table and grabbed Max by the collar with one hand, the other held up a knife to Max’s face.

“You wanna try again?” the red lizard growled.

Max laughed nervously and gulped. “Look man, we don’t even know what you’re talkin’ about!”

“After we left the party, we went to a club for a few hours,” you said quickly. “We left the party at about, what, midnight? And we were only at The Attic until, like, 2:30 at the latest.”

“Right, and then there was nothin’ to do but go home,” said Max. Slowly, the red lizard began to pull the knife away from Max’s face. Max let out a breath. “We know not to go lookin’ for trouble, sir, honest!”

Behind the red lizard, you noticed the green lizard had picked up a handbag and was fiddling with it. Then he turned it over and dumped the contents all over the table. There followed a stunned silence.

It was Catty’s purse.

“Hey, that’s my watch!” The green lizard grabbed a shiny silver watch from the middle of the pile. The red lizard turned back to Max, who smiled sheepishly. 

“Uh, that’s… Oh, that stuff? That’s just-”

“Let’s see what the cat has to say about this.” The red lizard walked around the side of the table and untied Catty’s gag.

“Get your nasty scaly dragon hands off my goddamn purse you bug-eyed whore!” Catty roared, tugging violently at her restraints.

The lizard flinched and dropped the purse, looking a little hurt.

“What do you call that?” The red lizard asked Max.

“A kleptomaniac,” grumbled the green lizard.

“But it- it doesn’t have anything to with- with whatever you’re asking us about!”

“How d’you know that?”

“She got all that stuff at the party,” Max said. “Right Catty?”

Everyone looked at Catty, who was red-faced but silent.

“Catty,” Max whined, “seriously.”

“UGH FINE.” Catty drooped in her seat. “Yeah I took all that stuff at the fancy party. You happy?”

“So can you let us go now?” Max said.

 “Not a chance,” said the red lizard, raising his knife threateningly. “We’ll just see if relievin’ you of one or two o’ them fingers makes you more-“

Ping. The red lizard pulled out his phone, took a moment to read the text, then turned to the green lizard. “He’s ready.” He looked at you and the other captives. “Sit tight.” And without another word, the two of them slunk back up the stairs and through the door.

You immediately started testing the rope binding your hands, twisting and manipulating it. “Can anyone use your magic on these ropes?”

“He was gonna chop my fucking fingers off,” Max said faintly.

“He could have been bluffing,” said Catty.

“Would you shut the fuck up for once in your life?” BP said.

Catty looked deeply offended. “What did you-?”

“Why did you have to take all that shit?” BP snarled. “And why did you still have it in your purse? Why are you so crazy? And not in a fun way!”

“Hey, dude.” Max said. “A little harsh?”

“And you,” BP said, turning his anger on Max. “You had an invitation? Did you really? What the fuck?!”

“Well, I- I couldn’t get everybody in, so. Where was your invitation, anyway? Didn’t you get one?”

“No, idiot. I’m just a gopher,” BP spat. “If you get invited to something like that, they consider you a real gangster. Not a compliment, by the way! We never should have snuck into that fucking party.”

There was a beat of silence.

“I love you, Bratty!” Catty suddenly burst into tears. “I’m so sorry I said those mean things to you! I didn’t mean it! I was just, like… I was…” She took a shuddering breath. “I was fucking jealous. And like, I do think Nathan is a dickless jerk. But that’s only partly because he can’t fuck. The other part is, I don’t like anyone who gets to be with you, if it’s not me.”

“Mm mmf mf mnnf?” said Bratty, still gagged. There were tears in her eyes.

“And I know you can’t talk right now, but if we’re about to die, I think you should know. I’m completely, totally in love with you.”

“Cfffy…” Catty and Bratty shared a long look.

“Um,” you said haltingly. “This is beautiful and I support you and admire you Catty, and I hate to interrupt. But about the ropes…?”

BP rolled his eyes. “They’re fucking magic ropes, Y/N. You think we wouldn’t have tried to escape already if they weren’t?”

“Don’t yell at Y/N, you moody bitch!” Catty seethed. “What is your problem?”

“Y/N is the one we should be yelling at the most!” BP shot back.

“Me?”

“Why did you have to invite Sans the fucking skeleton to the club with us? How could you invite him home?” BP hissed. “And how could I just go along with it?! Why didn’t I say anything when I knew that place was Sans’ and Papyrus’ hou-“

The door at the top of the stairs slammed open and into the wall next to it with a sound like a gunshot. In the doorway stood a massive, skinny figure in a suit. Slenderman, you thought deliriously. He had to stoop to get through the door.

He was another skeleton, much taller than Sans but not as wide. His face was long, teeth and cheekbones sharp. Both Max and BP went rigid with fear as the skeleton descended the stairs two at a time, staring the five of you down with those red specks of light in his dark sockets.

“A HUMAN,” he sniffed disdainfully as he approached. “I MIGHT HAVE GUESSED.”

It was the first time you were getting a good look at the face that matched the voice. His voice was reedy but powerful.

“HMPH. I SUPPOSE THIS WARRANTS AN INTRODUCTION.” The skeleton struck a confident pose. “I AM THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE PAPYRUS! SCROUGE OF THE STREET! UNDERBOSS SUPREME! THE MANY-EDGED BLADE OF KING ASGORE!”

That was a mouthful. “Good to meet you,” you said.

“IT IS, IS IT?” Papyrus narrowed his eyes. “WE WILL HAVE TO REMEDY THAT.” He lunged forward suddenly and buried a dagger in the table in front of you. “WHICH ONE OF YOU WAS IT?”

“B-boss I swear,” Max piped up. “You remember me, right? The nice-cream guy? I don’t have any reason to lie to you…”

Papyrus rubbed his chin. “VAGUELY. LOOKING AT THE COMPANY YOU KEEP, I’M NOT TERRIBLY MOVED, RABBIT.”

Max’s ears drooped. “B-but I uh… I know not to mess with you. That would be suicide! So, uh, whatever it is you think we’ve done-“

“DO NOT PLAY DUMB WITH ME!” Papyrus gripped the side of the table and flipped the whole thing. Stolen jewelry flew through the air. The table toppled over and landed upside down, narrowly missing BP. “I WAS THERE. I SAW A GROUP OF HOOLIGANS, ONE OF THEM SUSPICIOUSLY SMALL,” Papyrus paused to look pointedly at you. “FLEEING THE SCENE OF THE CRIME! AND WHO DO MY HENCHMEN FIND TODAY BUT THE VERY SAME GROUP OF STREETRATS THAT WERE UP TO MISCHIEF LAST NIGHT AT WHAT I MAY ADD WAS AN EXTREMELY IMPORTANT BUSINESS MEETING.”

“Business- uh. I didn’t- um,” Max stuttered.

“YOU AND YOUR HOODLUM FRIENDS ARE AT BEST EXTREMELY FOOLISH,” Papyrus continued, practically foaming at the mouth. “AND AT WORST, YOU RUINED MY FUCKING CAR! WHICH ONE OF YOU-” Papyrus rounded on you and the girls, whipped his head back toward Max and BP. “WHICH ONE WAS IT? IF NO ONE COMES FORWARD, I’ll ASSUME YOU ALL HAD A TURN!”

The room was silent. You didn’t dare look at any of your friends.

“WHAT OF YOU, HUMAN?” You jerked as Papyrus leaned down to your eye level. “YOU HAVE THE MOST TO LOSE HERE. THE MOST BLOOD, THAT IS.”

“They wouldn’t do something like that!” Catty exclaimed, drawing Papyrus’s attention. She shrank under his glare. “I- I mean… they couldn’t. Right? Because they’re so weak and puny? A human couldn’t put dents in a car like that!”

“WHO SAID ANYTHING ABOUT DENTS?”

Catty went white. “I-I d-d-don’t- I j-just thought- I didn’t know it was dented, I just assumed, because you said- you said it was ruined…”

Papyrus looked enormously skeptical. He turned and said, “WHAT OF YOU, ORANGE CAT? YOU LOOK FAMILIAR.”

BP flinched and averted his gaze. “I’m just a gopher…”

“YOU CAN’T FOOL ME, FELINE!” Papyrus thundered. “YOU ARE CLEARLY A CAT!”

“No, I, um. Go-fer stuff. I-I uh, I do… errands. You know?”

“AN ERRAND BOY. I SEE. HOW SUSPICIOUS THAT YOU WOULD ATTEMPT TO DECIEVE ME WITH YOUR ‘SLANG.’”

“It’s not my-” BP sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“YOU WILL BE.” Papyrus turned to Bratty. “THIS ONE IS QUIET.”

“She’s gagged,” you said.

“SILENCE!” Papyrus’s magic flared and bones appeared around him, sharp as giant skewers, pointed at you and your friends. “WHAT FUN, HM?! ATTACKING A PERFECTLY INNOCENT TRIUMPH OF GERMAN ENGINEERING?! I FIND YOU REPUGNANT!”

The bones drew nearer. Your face was illuminated with red light as the point of one of them came within inches of your face. You turned your head away and pressed back into the chair.

“’ey, boss!” came a low, muffled voice from upstairs. “we outta popsicles?” The door opened and revealed Sans, unmistakable even out of makeup, wearing a baggy t-shirt and shorts. He instantly made eye contact with you.

“SANS!!” Papyrus blustered. “CAN YOU NOT SEE I AM BUSY?!”

“heh. right.” Sans stood there in the doorway.

Papyrus groaned. “They’re In The Back Of The Freezer. Keep Looking!”

“thanks, bro.”

“OK GOODBYE!”

“oh, one more thing.”

“WHAT?!”

“forgot to tell you,” Sans said. “i egged your car last night.”

There was a beat of silence. Then Papyrus was leaping up the stairs at his brother. “YOU WHAAAAAAAT?!”

The skeletons disappeared from the doorway but you could hear Papyrus raging and what you guessed was the smashing of furniture from upstairs.

Eventually, the noises stopped, and the lizards came back, wordlessly untied you, and led you all out of the house. Blinking in the sunlight, soaked in sweat, rope burn on your wrists, you stood with your friends on the side walk. You realized you were standing if front of the very same house you had TP’d the night before. The toilet paper was cleaned up. The car was notably missing.

Max sighed heavily. “I gotta go get my nice cream cart… But I can call you guys a ride first.”

“I got it,” you said, pulling out your phone. You turned to Catty and Bratty. “You two want to come home with me and BP for a bit?”

Catty nodded gratefully but Bratty hesitated. “I think I want to go home and sleep.”

You shrugged. “Ok. I’ll text you in a few hours though. Just, you know. To make sure you’re ok.”

Bratty nodded with a small smile.

Catty sulked on the ride to your apartment and didn’t say much the rest of the day, so it turned into a routine sort of night for you and BP. Pizza, Netflix, bed. Catty took the couch.

That night in your room, you spent some time staring at your phone for a bit, deleting a text to Sans and rewriting it a few times.

friends and I are doing friendsgiving this year. want to come?

You hit send.

Chapter Text

Sugar: friends and I are doing friendsgiving this year. want to come?

You: sure. when?

Sugar: probably the day after thanksgiving. I’ll keep you updated.

Sans was royally fucked. This little human could invite him to do anything, anywhere, and he’d be there with bells on. 

He surreptitiously slipped his phone back into the inner pocket of his suit jacket and tried to focus on the conversation taking place. Asgore and the old man were still just chatting over after-dinner coffee. Asgore had brought up the topic of houseplants and Brennigan was yammering about how his granddaughter was an aspiring botanist. 

Brennigan was in his 70s but he looked about a hundred. He was the leader of the dominant human gang in the city. He was ruthless in reputation, frail in appearance. Sans had seen old photos of him, before he went grey and stooped, when he was a bloodthirsty young man with the same red hair and pointy nose as his son-of-a-bitch grandson Bradley. 

Watching the cordial pleasantries between the old man and Asgore made Sans ill. The monsters were “courting” Brennigan, as Asgore put it. Looking to make tentative allies and open up new business opportunities. A tactful way of saying that Brennigan had them outnumbered and outgunned, and was positioned to either squeeze them out of their territory or have them all dusted. The only option left was to play nice. 

Bzzt. San’s phone vibrated against his chest. He glanced warily at the thug standing behind Brennigan (both the old man and Asgore were smart enough to bring bodyguards to this sort of meeting). Sans decided he could risk another quick peak at his phone. 

Sugar: it’s gonna be potluck style. like, everyone brings food, if that’s cool with you. 

yeah, he responded. no problem. 

This Friendsgiving thing sounded like it was more up his brother’s alley, if Papyrus could relax for an hour or two and resist the urge to flay anyone. If he were Papyrus, he’d bring homemade lasagna. What could Sans make, Cup Noodles? 

He tucked his phone away again, just as Asgore and the old man were adjourning their meeting. Asgore was comically large next to Brennigan. They shook hands, Asgore making an obvious effort to take the human’s hand very gently, before they parted ways. Once outside the restaurant, Sans ported Asgore and himself into Asgore’s office. 

Asgore let out a deep sigh and slumped into his armchair. “I think that went well,” he said. “All things considered. Thoughts, Sans?”

Sans shrugged. “sure. friendly enough.” 

Asgore hummed thoughtfully. Sans stood waiting for Asgore to dismiss him. “Is there anything you would like to discuss…?”

“like what, boss?”

Asgore pursed his lips like a fretful grandmother. “After you disappeared from the Halloween get-together, I thought perhaps…”

“yeah, wasn’t feelin’ well.” Sans began to sweat. “remember?”

“Yes…” Asgore tilted his head, scrutinizing Sans. “Of course. Why don’t you take the rest of the day off.”

“boss?”

“I worry, you know.” 

Sans shrugged. “nothin’ to worry about.”

Asgore hesitated, then seemed to decide not to press the matter. “Silly me.”

There was a knock at the door. “Yes?” called Asgore. 

“I got a delivery for the boss from MT.”

“Come in.”

Sans did a double-take at the delivery monster. He was an orange cat, dressed in a too-big leather jacket and ripped jeans, hunched a bit with his shoulders drawn up. He was glaring at the floor as he stalked up to Asgore’s desk and laid a sealed envelope on it. 

“Why, thank you,” Asgore said. He looked up at Sans and gestured toward the door. “If you wouldn’t mind.” Sans nodded and left the office. “And get some rest!” He heard Asgore call after him before he shut the door.
 
The cat was in Asgore’s office for five minutes or so before he returned and quickly shuffled down the hallway. 

“you’re burgerpants, ain’tcha?” Sans said, following him outside. 

The fur on the back of BP’s neck stood up. “Uh,” he glanced around. “Yeah…” 

“y/n invited me to their friend-givin’ thing.” 

A dark look passed over BP’s face. “Yeah, I heard…” 

“was wonderin’, whaddya think i should bring?” 

“Uh. No idea, honestly. Y/N said somethin’ about… pumpkin pie?” 

More sweets, Sans thought fondly. “i think that can be arranged.” He looked BP up and down. “how long you been doin’ this?” 

BP pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and took a drag. “Few years.” 

“shit.” He must have been around constantly. Mettaton’s little messenger boy, flying under the radar because he was just that unimportant. Sans wasn’t sure how to say I never fucking noticed you before. He had a feeling BP had already got the message. “eh,” he said into the awkward silence. “how’d you an’ y/n get to be roommates?” 

“We’re both poor,” said PB. He exhaled a cloud of smoke. 

Sans blinked at him, struggling to come up with a reply. 

“I really gotta run this note back to MT.” 

“yeah.” Sans cleared his throat. “see ya around.”

“You can’t all bring pizza.”

“Says who?”

You sighed irritably, crossing the living room into the kitchen, stepping over the mess on the floor. “Bratty called dibs on pizza. Suck it up.”

“Pizza rolls, then,” came Max’s voice over the phone in your hand. 

“No.” You made it into the kitchen, took the hot kettle off the stove, and fished teabags out of the cabinet. 

“Why not?!” Max said, outraged. “It’s not pizza!”

“I’m black-balling all pizza-adjacent foods,” you responded firmly. “Maybe Bratty can’t even do it now, I haven't decided. It’s not a Thanksgiving food, anyway.”

“You said we could bring what we wanted!” 

You scoffed. “I thought you would want to bring nice cream, like for dessert.”

“We have that all the time!” 

“We have pizza all the time!”

“Wait,” exclaimed BP, who had emerged from his bedroom without you noticing. “We can’t have pizza at this dumb Friendsgiving thing?”

“Could you possibly, like, not scream at the top of your lungs?!” shouted Catty from the living room. “Some people are trying to sleep!”

“At 1 in the afternoon,” BP muttered acidly. 

Catty was laying on the couch cradling an empty nice cream carton. She had been staying with you and BP for a few weeks now. BP kept floating the idea of trying to trade her off to Max but you hated the thought of her knowing she wasn’t welcome, especially when she was having such a hard time coping with the Bratty situation. 

“Has she still not gone home?” Max said over the phone. 

You dunked your tea bag in to your mug aggressively, on your last nerve with every last one of your friends. “You know what? Bring pizza rolls. I don’t give a shit.” You hung up on him. 

“What’s wrong with pizza rolls?” BP groused, pouring himself a glass of milk. 

“Ok,” you said, keeping your voice low. “We have to get Catty out of here.”

“Right?!” BP hissed. “I can’t take it anymore! How does Bratty deal with having a roommate that literally just drops her shit all over the floor. She doesn’t cook for herself, she doesn’t do her own fucking dishes!” He gestured dramatically toward the sink. 

You nodded. “I love Catty. I don’t want to hate her. Which is why she has to go.”

You and Max met Bratty for coffee a few days later. She tended to wear oversized clothing when she was feeling down. Today she wore a baggy cardigan and a slouchy knit cap. 

She sat nursing her sugary frappucino, giving short responses when you and Max tried to strike up conversation. Finally, you decided to cut to the chase. "Have you talked to Catty at all? Texted her?" 

Bratty went silent, looking down at her drink.

"Yeah, that's a no," said Max.

"Well..." Bratty muttered, "Well, what am I supposed to, like, say? What would you say?"

"Hi, how have you been, are you still in love with me?" Max shrugged. 

Bratty let out a frustrated sigh. 

"We're not saying you have to reach out," you said. 

"I am," Max interjected. "You're fucking up our whole... equilibrium! The delicate balance of our friend-group ecosystem!"

"I'm fucking it up?" Bratty exclaimed. 

"No one is fucking anything up," you said quickly. "Look, I'm hearing that Catty's confession really freaked you out, and that's totally understandable. It also occurred while we were being held captive by the monster mob and I'm sure we'll all have to process that whole thing at some point-"

"Nah, I tucked that shit away good and tidy," Max said, tapping the side of his head. 

"Good for you," Bratty said scathingly. "But I'm still- I feel-" Bratty shook her head, getting misty-eyed. 

You scooched around the table until you were close enough the hug Bratty. She gently returned the hug. You felt her hiccup. "We're here for you," you said.

"Yeah," added Max, softening. "No getting rid of us."

"Thank you..." Bratty frowned at her cup. "I do miss her. I guess I'll call her."

"Great!" Max clapped his hands together. "That's solved. On to the next problem." He turned to look at you. "What do you think you're doing?"

"What?" 

"Inviting Sans the Skeleton to hang out with us? Again?"

You grimaced. "You don't like him?"

"Oh no, he's a peach! Until you cross him," Max said casually. 

"I mean, I get it, ok? He's a gangster." You lowered your voice. "But so are you, technically."

"Ha! I'm just the lovable, incorrigible nice cream guy!" Max replied cheerfully. "You know what your boyfriend's nickname is? The Judge. Ominous, right?" 

You frowned. "Fine. I don't know what I'm doing."

"Hey, it might be nice to have such a powerful friend! But BP is super pissed off at you. Once again disrupting the ecosystem that is our friend group." 

"Right..." You said guiltily. "I know. I'll talk to him." 

"Fantastic!" Max hopped up from his seat. "I'm going to try one of these ube lattes everyone's talking about."

Over the next week, you resigned yourself to the fact that you would be making most of the food. You tried to keep it simple- dinner rolls, corn on the cob, green bean casserole, candied yams. Solid side dishes. You assigned the casserole to BP, relieving him of the burden of choosing a dish himself. All this made for a long grocery list. 

With only a few days left before Friendsgiving, it was time to go grocery shopping. BP was at work and Catty was passed out on your couch, so you were on your own. The sky was threatening to pour so you tried to make the trip as fast as possible, skipping quickly from aisle to aisle, when suddenly you stopped in your tracks. 

At the other end of the aisle was Sans the Skeleton, in a crimson button-up, black tie and suspenders. He was throwing boxes of pasta haphazardly into his cart. You stood frozen, debating whether to pretend you hadn't seen him when he looked up and made eye contact. You gave him a little wave and he approached you. 

"if it ain't the little human," he said. You had almost forgotten what a smooth glass of bourbon voice he had. 

"That's me," you said awkwardly. "Funny meeting you here." It was downright strange meeting Sans here, under the flourescent lights, pushing a cart full of mostly spaghetti. You also spotted a bag of sugar, a frozen pie crust and a can of pumpkin puree. 

"skeleton's gotta eat. you almost done shoppin'?"

You looked down at your list. "I need a few more things."

"i'll walk with ya." 

You made small talk with Sans as you gathered the last of the items on your list, and then headed to checkout together. 

"you doin' anything tonight?" Sans asked, voice casual. 

"I was going to argue with my roommate for a while," you said. About you, you left out. "But I'd love to get out of it."

His grin widened. "i know this cozy little place. we could grab a drink."
Your mind raced, but you already knew you were going to say yes. You already knew you were going to lie to BP about where you were going. Shitty friend, you thought in the back of your mind. No sense of self-preservation. "I could use a drink."

The bar gave you speakeasy vibes. There was a doorman at the entrance who wordlessly stepped aside at the sight of Sans. The bartender was a crackling fire in the shape of a person. Sans was very friendly with him, introducing the two of you before you collected your drinks and sat down at a secluded booth.

"Thanks, by the way," you said. "For taking the heat for the whole car-egging thing."

Sans shrugged. "i was the one who did it, after all."

"Right..."

"why did you end up sneaking into that party to begin with? not that i ain't happy about it."

"Max's idea," you replied. "Papyrus called it a business meeting?"

"eh, business meeting in disguise." Sans stretched out his long arms and rested them on the back of the booth. "not much fun, huh?"

"Not exactly, but hey- free food." You sipped at your drink and discovered it was delicious. "So Papyrus is your brother?" Max had filled you in on that piece of information. 

"yep," Sans said, slightly chagrined. "that's my baby bro." 

"He's the younger one?" you asked in surprise. 

"heh, i seem younger to you?"

You hesitated. "No. Now that I think about it, I guess not. He's just scarier."

"hey," Sans feigned offense. "i'm pretty fuckin' scary."

"Sure you are," you said. "Look, I'm shaking!"

Sans snorted. 

"No, really, I'm so scared."

"shuddup."

"It's just that you didn't have some lizard goons threaten to cut off my fingers."

He considered this for a moment. "hey. you heard about the chameleon that couldn't change color?"

"Uh? No?"

"he had a reptile dysfunction."

You weren't sure if it was the drink working on you, but you laughed so hard you snorted. "You're a huge dork!"

"that ain't the half of it!" 

You both ordered a couple more drinks and Sans spent the time telling you corny joke after corny joke. You were having trouble connecting this goofy skeleton to the foreboding figure Max and BP had described. 

"you got any family in this town, sugar?"

"My dad. We don't really talk though."

He frowned. "no?"

You shrugged. "He expected a lot from me. I didn't deliver."

"any siblings?" 

"I have an older brother that lives across the country," you responded. "We talk sometimes. What about you? Any other family?"

"nah," said Sans. "paps is all I got."

You looked down at your hands and said haltingly, "I've heard that life in the underground could be pretty brutal."

He gave a half shrug. "since we formed the organization, at least the in-fighting ain't so bad. and the open spaces help. confinement can make a monster go a little nuts."

You leaned back and the back of your head rested on Sans' arm. "I can't imagine how awful it must have been."

Sans brought his hand up to toy with your hair. "eh, things have been lookin' up lately."

You looked up into his eyes. When had he gotten so close? You could smell his cherry cigars, feel the heat radiating off him. You studied his face; the ridges of his brow, his sharp teeth, the softening of his eye sockets. You weren't quite drunk, but everything was all soft around the edges. 

"You're so cool," you breathed. 

His grin twitched upward. "you think?"

"I never told you," you went on, "at that party, how amazing you looked.

Not that- not that you don't look good now! You do! It's just-" You swallowed thickly, losing confidence.

Sans shifted a little closer. "you want to get out of here?"

You processed this for a minute. "Like, not to eat candy and egg a car?"

Sans chuckled. "like, to my place."

The butterflies in your stomach could be infatuation or it could be fear at the idea of going back to the house where you almost got your fingers chopped off. 

You nodded. "That sounds good."

Once you were out of the bar, Sans took your wrist gently and said, "we're gonna port, ok?"

"As in, teleport?" You said, remembering his trick on Halloween. 

He grinned sheepishly. "don't have a car, and couldn't exactly borrow papyrus'. just hold onto me and relax."

You took his large hand in both of your own and closed your eyes. "Ok."
The next second, you opened your eyes and you were in an unfamiliar room. You saw an unmade bed with a pile of books next to it, some dirty clothes in a corner by a large closet. 

"sorry about the, eh, mess..." Sans said, kicking a dirty sock toward the clothes pile. He looked at you uncertainly. "you maybe want a drink or somethi-"

He was cut off as you grabbed him by the lapels and pulled him down into a kiss. 

You may be more intoxicated than you thought. All your awareness zeroed in on the kiss and the rest of your senses faded into the background. You realized quickly that he's a great kisser,  matching the movement of your lips and pressing deeper, then backing off a bit, suckling on your bottom lip, flicking a tongue you didn't know he had against your upper lip teasingly. His hands slid down your sides to your waist and tugged you insistently into him. You tilted your head to deepen the kiss and his fingers dug into your hips a little more urgently. You ran your palms across his shoulders and down his chest, just making out the ridges of ribs beneath his suit. 

Mouth glued to yours, Sans steered you toward his bed. 

"SANS!" came a shrill shout from below. 

Sans flinched, pulling away. "shit, my brother's home."

A beat of silence, and then there were footsteps thundering up the stairs toward Sans' room. 

"yeah, boss?" Sans shouted. "was just goin' to bed."

Sharp rapping on Sans' door. "WE NEED TO TALK, SANS."

"fuck," Sans muttered, and he ushered you toward the closet. He gave you an apologetic look and gestured for you to go inside. 

After a moment of hesitation, during which Papyrus called Sans' name again and rapped harder on the door, you walked inside and Sans closed the door softly behind you. Turning around, you could see glimpses of his room through the slats in the closet door. 

"can't it wait til the morning paps," Sans affected a yawn. "i'm wiped out, here." 

"This Will Only Take A Moment." Papyrus pressed. "Open The Door, Sans."

Sans sighed and opened the door. "arright, what is it?"

"Asgore Requires You To Attend Another Meeting Friday Night."

Sans paused. "this friday?"

"Is That A Problem?"

"i got plans." 

"Of Course You Do," Papyrus said sourly. "Well Now You Have New Plans."

Sans shrugged. "i'll work it out with asgore. that it? great, see ya later."

But Papyrus hesitated in the doorway, blocking Sans from closing the door. He took a deep breath. "... Why Did You Have To Wear A Dress?"

"'scuse me?" Sans said gruffly. 

"I Know That You Do Not Want To Talk About It." Papyrus wouldn't look at him properly. "It Is No Big Deal To Us, But Humans? You Know They Enforce Strict Gender Norms."

"i don't give a fu-"

"Maybe You Should Give Even The Slightest Fuck!" Papyrus' tone turned sharp. "For Asgore's Sake. For The Sake Of This Organization! We Needed To Impress Brennigan, Not Alienate Him! Why Do You Always Have To Make Things So Difficult?!" 

"you think i was tryin' to make things hard?" Sans growled. "it was halloween, you're suppose to dress up! it's not my fault humans don't understand their own damn holiday!" 

"You Have The Rest Of Your Life To Wear As Many Dresses As You Want. But This One Night?"

"oh fuck off!" 

"I WILL NOT FUCK OFF!" Papyrus roared. "LAST I BROUGHT IT UP YOU HURLED EGGS AT MY CAR AT WHAT I CAN ONLY IMAGINE WAS AN EXTREMELY HIGH VELOCITY! YOU HAVE BEEN ACTING EVEN MORE VOLATILE THAN I HAVE COME TO EXPECT-"

"i don't feel like me!" 

There was a heavy pause. "What?" 

"i don't..." Sans stumbled over his words. "i don't recognize myself in these fuckin' suits, in this fuckin' house... what the fuck are we doing, paps, playing gangsters..." 

"We Are Not Playing." 

Sans chuckled weakly. "it ain't like i never busted nobody's kneecaps underground, but it was never a fuckin' business venture. we used to have to fight to survive." 

"We Must Still Do That," Papyrus said, rather gently. 

"now we're kissin' some old asshole's nasty feet to keep our shitty territory in this shitty town. i just woke up one day and thought, who the fuck am i anymore?" Sans shrugged, defeated. "so i wore a dress. tryin' to claw back some fuckin' identity. you happy?" 

Papyrus stood stock still for a moment. "I Am Not Happy."

Sans threw his hands in the air, exasperated. "just get out of my room then."

"No! No, Sans..." Papyrus extended his hand and gave Sans an awkward pat on the shoulder. "There, There."

Sans stiffened and then started to snicker quietly. 

"WHAT?" Papyrus puffed up defensively. "I AM COMFORTING YOU."

Sans reined in his laughter. "yeah, i got that. you might not want to get too sappy right now though."

"WHY?"

"'cause there's a human in my closet."

"EXCUSE ME??"

You took this as a cue to timidly step out of the closet, giving him a wave.

Papyrus, to your surprise, instantly recognized you. "HOODLUM," he balked. Being called a hoodlum, you thought, was a little ironic coming from an honest-to-god gangster. 

You offered your hand to shake. "My name's (Y/N)."

When Friday came around, you were pleased to discover that Max did not bring pizza rolls. He did bring two bottles of cheap wine and a tub of nice cream, which you considered more than sufficient. After a last-minute discussion, you and Bratty decided she should bring extra plates and cutlery instead of pizza, as you were planning to have more than enough food. Catty helped you and BP in the kitchen. 

Sans showed up around 7 bearing two pumpkin pies, which you were over the moon about. He was wearing makeup, less elaborate than on Halloween, but very striking. While you were bustling around the kitchen, Sans quickly integrated himself into the group, charming as ever. There was something really nice about seeing your small apartment filled up with guests, all laughing and chatting.  

At 8 o clock sharp, just as you all were preparing to lay the food out buffet-style, there came a firm knock at the door. Your friends stared around at each other in confusion. 

"I may have invited one more guest," you said bashfully as you went to answer the door. 

Stooping to fit through the doorway, in came Papyrus, Scourge of the Streets, Underboss Supreme, The Many-Edged Blade of King Asgore, holding a dish of lasagna. "I REQUIRE AN OVEN PRE-HEATED TO 350 DEGREES FAHRENHEIT FOR THE NEXT 30 MINUTES," he said.