Chapter Text
Bearly Keeping Up - Sans/Reader
Chapter 1 – Putting It Behind You
“alright, bud, ya know what you’re doin’ here?”
“You bet I do. The ball’s gonna bounce off that rock and go right where I want it to.”
“well, let’s hope physics won’t rock your world, then.”
“I won’t bowl-der over in sadness if it does.”
For an evening with your favorite monster, you wouldn’t expect anything less than this.
It’s a Friday evening in the dog days of summer, with the sunset pounding on the back of your neck. Bringing the sunscreen along could’ve helped, but it’s nothing that won’t wear off soon. Nothing could sway your focus, anyway, with this ‘intense’ round of mini-golf that you decided to end your week with. Joining you on your putting adventure is a punderful, intelligent, oddball of a skeleton named Sans. His hot-dog stand closes early on Fridays, leaving you both with this nice chance to spend some time together.
“Alright, ball, do your thing…” Standing up to the orange golf ball you’d picked up at the start, you give a firm tap with your putter, with Sans’ floating pupils closely watching its movement. It takes a bounce off the rock that’s obstructing your route from the hole, hits the bricks that line the outside of the playing field, and slowly rolls towards the cup, where it does a little donut around the rim before falling inside.
“Sweet! Thanks for not bailing on me, physics.”
“hey, that’s just ‘cuz ya hit it the right way for the physics to do what ya want. lessee if i can do the same thing.” Sans’ bright pink ball stopped around where yours did, and he steps up to it in his matching pink slippers to try to do the same thing. It’s a valiant effort, but it stops just short of the hole, making him need to tap it in.
“ah, ya got me. what’s that make the score?”
“Uuuuuuhhhh…” You check the scorecard.
“Darn. You’re still one shot ahead of me. You didn’t tell me you’re such a mini-golf pro!”
“well, my brother once made a course i played about a bajillion and eight times. glad some skill rolled over.” He gently taps the ball towards your shoe when saying so, and you can’t help but giggle about it. It’s a great feeling, having a friend this good. Always knows what to say, and exactly how far to take it.
“one whole hole left. i better not mess this up, we’ve got 25 cents on the line. i’d never financially recover.” The two of you find comically small wagers in games like this. There’s a big skull in the middle of the final hole, which makes the two of you laugh without having to exchange a word.
Meeting Sans at a home equipment store is without a doubt what you’ve been the most grateful for since monsters made their emergence to the world above just a couple short years ago. You’d been looking for a new ceiling fan for your apartment, and when you’d entered the section of the store that housed them, this skeleton in a blue hoodie and pink slippers was looking for one, too. He’d seen you looking around for a while, asked why you needed a fan, and made some silly joke about celebrities.
Something about it made you stick around to listen to more, and after enough of a pun barrage from a complete stranger, you hit him with one of your own, and it turned into thirty minutes of every pun either of you could muster up about ceilings, fans, and rockstars. Maybe it was your jokes, or maybe it was you seeing him the same as anyone else, and not any different for being a monster, but it led to exchanging contact, which led to lots of hanging out and getting to know each other better, which led you to this mini-golf course.
It's all been such a welcome distraction from… from…
Well, no reason to dwell on that right now, you tell yourself. You think about it plenty already, and mini-golfing with your best bud isn’t the time or place to.
Sans ends up hanging onto his lead to close out the round; he must’ve seen eye socket to eye socket better with the skull than you ever could. Looking over the scorecard together to agree that there wasn’t any tomfoolery, you pretend to sigh as you pull a quarter from your pocket to give to your bud.
“heh, thanks. i’m sure you’ll win it back next time. can’t say i’m gonna putt myself here to practice before then.”
“Well, what if I am?”
“then i’ll get ready to par-t with my money.” Again, his way of spinning anything into fun, welcome words to hear makes you laugh, as you join him in returning your putters and buying some ice cream from the mini-golf stand. You’re expecting him to get strawberry again to go with his color scheme, but he opts for chocolate instead, leaving you hoping for his sake that none of it drips onto his hoodie.
“So, anything coming up this weekend?”
“the sun.”
“Pfff, got me there. What else is coming up? The moon?”
“nah, it’s a new moon weekend.”
“Oh.” Bamboozled by a bucket of bones. His chocolate-dotted grin turns up a bit, seeing how he drew you in.
“eh, for real, not much happenin’. papyrus doesn’t have mascot duties for once, i’ll see what he wants.”
“Awww, that’s a nice, brotherly plan.”
“’m sure he’d invite ya for whatever it is, too. know you want that uno rematch with him.”
“Oh, you bet. I’m sure I’ll have the right color for my last card next time.”
“don’t say it too loud. if he hears that, he’d somehow figure out a way to make sure that card never meets your hands.” You wouldn’t put it past Papyrus to find some way to soak up info on your game strategies, so you stop there.
“how ‘bout you, buddo?”
“Don’t know, didn’t have anything set up. Time with you and your bro’s always great, if that lines up.”
“aww, thanks. glad it’s a cozy place after your work week.”
“Well, of course it is! It’s the two of you there!”
“even when it’s me talking about people trying hot-dog fraud? h’dog fraud? h’fraud?”
“Yes, any h’fraud talk is fine, aside from people trying to steal from you.”
“eh, if they try that, i recognize them and never let them order from me again. i don’t forget faces. got a whole doo-doo butt list in my noggin.”
“Hope I’m not on that.”
“nah, that’s the do-do list. people i’d do some do-do with, not doo-dooing on.”
“i’ll doo my best to remember all that.” The rest of the chat carries on around the same caliber of jokes. You each enjoy the rest of the ice cream and all the conversation that comes with it, and get ready to head back to the parking lot. Sans’ strange powers that not even he can explain let him come and go anywhere he pleases, and he’d use that to get you home, but you drove straight from work to the mini-golf course, and abandoning your car isn’t what you’ve had in mind for your Friday.
Unfortunately, something’s about to come that’ll do a fine job derailing all the nice thoughts you’ve had about your day.
There’s a few stands around the mini-golf that sell their own food, some of which sell things like burgers and chicken tenders. You sure don’t mind seeing those things cooked, but as you walk with Sans to the lot, learning some interesting tidbit his brother picked up on recently, someone walks in front of you carrying a case of raw ground beef.
Dear god. How didn’t you notice him sooner? You know exactly what’s gonna set off if you’re looking at it for too long. It wasn’t something you had any plans to tell Sans about, at least no time soon, and this would be such a bad time for him to find out. With no bathroom around or anywhere else to go that’d make a lick of sense, you make a quick choice to pretend to buckle your knee, falling down on it while the food worker carries on. You feel a bit of a tremor in your spine as he draws close, but it’s thankfully not for long enough, as he leaves the sidewalk. Too close of a call.
“uh oh. y’okay, ____? that didn’t look comfortable.”
“…Y-Yeah, I’m fine, Sans. Thanks, though. I, uh, must’ve been putting too much pressure on that leg the way I was putting.” Your work pants kept your knee from getting scratched up, at least, and Sans reaches a hand out to help you up. He’s found ways to trick you before when you’ve had to take his hand, but you can tell from the concern on his face that there’s complete sincerity, as you’re helped back up to your feet.
“that happened a couple weeks ago, wanted to make sure you’re all good to go. there’s some good doctors around, if your knee’s in a dilly of a pickle.”
“Heh, nah, maybe I just need to be eating more pickles or something. Appreciate it, though.”
Your mind’s racing enough from the close call that you don’t realize that you’re still holding Sans’ hand for about the next ten steps. He doesn’t seem to notice either, but eventually, it hits you both at the same time, and you let go.
“oop, uh, sorry. wanted to make sure you can still walk the walk.”
“Aww, thanks, bud. Felt w-”
Why did you almost just tell your best friend his hand felt warm? He stops, and a drip of sweat somehow forms around the side of his skull. He’s still smiling, as always, but something in the smile’s quivering a bit.
“erm… gotta go. dinner’s probably waiting. catch ya around.” There’s a loud snap, and Sans is gone.
Ugh. Should you have bit your tongue better before that came out? You weren’t even thinking that before you said it, you just… did. Sans didn’t seem annoyed in any sense, though, was he… about to say the same thing? Whatever that was, weighing on it for too long wouldn’t do you any good, so you try not to think about it while you unlock the car. Maybe he really did need to get home in time for dinner. It lets your mind creep back into the worry from earlier, though, and you realize contemplating Sans’ hand-holding and shakes would be a far more comforting thought.
Of all the things that could set off your curse, it really has to be looking at raw meat for too long. Guess it draws out the wrong instinct or something, but it’s really untimely when you just want to go out into town and have a nice time. This has been such a nice friendship, and the last thing you need is having it ruined if you friend finds out you’re a… a werebear.
Well, you say ‘werebear’ whenever you talk about it with yourself, but it really does just make you a bear. If you’re too close to rare meat for too many seconds, it snaps inside of you, a dramatic change hits that you can’t control, and then a bear’s standing where you once had two human feet. It’s caused enough harm before for you to not need it now, of all times. The more you dwell on it, the less sense it makes, and the more reason for you to not want it to damage what you’ve built.
Why did I ever have to eat that cursed fish? Years ago, on a hiking trip to get away from the hustle and bustle of your busy town for a few days, you found yourself more strapped for food than you expected, with the draining feeling hiking can give. It was getting late, and you needed something to eat, and you found this strange diner built into a log cabin along the trail. Maybe if you hadn’t been so hungry, you would’ve used more judgment, but the situation felt desperate.
Stepping inside, where there weren’t any other customers, you ordered the salmon dish, which sounded tastiest and easier to carry after a long walk. The man that served it had the strangest expression when he brought you the food, and returned to the kitchen without a word, but again, the hunger was too much for you to weigh this. To your pleasure at the moment, the salmon tasted delicious, and you’d devoured it within minutes. Right after you paid the bill, though, something in your gut and forehead started getting the most terrible throb. You don’t remember much else about the night, other than the pain from that moment, but you must’ve left the building at some point and fallen asleep on the trail without even opening your sleeping bag, because you woke up with your face in the dirt, and the cabin was… gone. Trees were in its place, as if nothing had ever been there.
Your stomach felt like nothing happened, so you assumed you’d passed out from exhaustion and that the night was some trippy fever dream, but it was enough for you to cut the trip short. It was a hungry walk back, but you arrived at your car in one piece and made an eager trip home for dinner. The family wanted help preparing it, so you agreed to cook the chicken thighs, when… it happened. Picking them up from the fridge, you felt this burning feeling in your stomach, and as you bowled over while dropping the meat, you dropped to your fours, felt your entire state of being grow while a thick coating of fur sprouted all over you, your clothes ripped off, and within seconds, you’d become a brown bear in front of your whole family…
Ugh. I’m too deep in the memory now. Just start driving, ____. You put the key in the car to start driving to your apartment, doing your best to start thinking about the mystery of Sans’ floating pupils, but it wasn’t to much avail. The feeling of transforming and the horror on your family’s faces is too strong a memory to get out when it comes up.
You were still in control of your actions when it hit, at least, so you were able to try to run into your room to give your family space, but they couldn’t make out a word of what you were trying to say about what wasn’t going on. After several hours of pacing around your room, hoping no one was coming to knock you out and take you to be investigated, it suddenly wore off, and you changed back. To your immediate relief, by the time your family returned to the house after you showed in a video call that it was over, they hadn’t called anyone to try to get you, but they demanded that you pack everything of value you have and get out of the house, or else they would. You haven’t seen or heard from any of them since.
Pulling in at the apartment complex, you try to think of something to stop your mind from carrying on with the same story you’ve told back to yourself far too many times. Texting Sans is all you can think of at the moment, with it being your go-to any other day when you don’t have anything going on, so you send one to him.
“Hope dinner was tasty, sorry if my knee scared you. Really think I’m fine, just gonna try some more stretches with it in the morning”
He replies about a minute later.
“all good, hope you still enjoyed the mini-golf, papyrus would love having ya over tomorrow for a darts rematch”
Somehow, you’d beaten Papyrus at a game of darts last week, and you presume he’s read a book by now on all the strategies.
“Sounds like a great time, I’ll let him know I’ll be there, thanks a bunch”
“no prob, the old couch would like to say hi anyway”
“Guess my scent can mix in with the decades of other ones in it”
“nice”
“What”
“what”
Sans is excited about your smell sticking around in the couch? If stuff wasn’t already strange enough today…
Being distracted by whatever that could mean is a fun thought for a bit, but it’s not long before everything else creeps back. Entering your room and slumping on the bed before getting changed, you figure you may as well let the story ride out in your head instead of fighting it.
Once you’d sadly moved into this space on your own, far enough from your old place to make it a clean break, you figured you were sane enough during the transformation to test it again on yourself, so after cautiously having some groceries delivered so you wouldn’t have to see the meat elsewhere, lo and behold, it hit again, the transformation not feeling any different. Wandering over to a mirror, you simply looked just like a bear; maybe a little more animation in your eyes, but everything else, brown fur, darker brown nose, chompers, and all, was undoubtably one. Even if werewolves are fantasy, which you can’t say you’re confident on after this, you figured something like that would’ve at least been a bit more… likely? A werebear? Who the hell is a werebear? And why does looking at raw meat trigger it?? You don’t even get a desire to eat it after you change, it just… hits. And it meant you’d have to weigh this every time you go in public.
It's gone well enough to not have any similar disaster since then; once, it did hit when you accidentally got too close to someone cooking gyros at a town culture festival, but you managed to struggle into a porta potty just in time, and after a few hours of silent horror, it wore off before it was time for someone to take the stall away. It wasn’t long before you were able to find new work that you enjoy enough, so you were able to keep living with all your needs met, but now without any of your old connections, and a large sense of dread of your curse being felt every day.
About a year later, though, something incredibly strange happened that got everyone’s minds on something different: monsters emerged from a nearby mountain. They could eat, breathe, and talk with everyone else, aside from the ghosts, who could only do the last one. Their unique ways of living, along with the stories of them being trapped underground for centuries and centuries, left many people feeling sympathy for them and wanting them to live happy lives with humankind. Yes, some bigots did their best to try to keep monsters from “taking away” what they felt them and only them should have, which wasn’t at all correct, and some of the bigots are still at it, but humans and monsters alike have been working hard on policy to make everyone as included and celebrated as they can be.
At first, you thought there could possibly be some people that understand your curse. Could there be any chance any of them face the same kind of thing? After some time, though, no monster had told the public anything of the sort, and your nerves returned. Some of the monsters were other fur-coated creatures; would they think you’re pulling some kind of dark magic if you changed to a bear in front of their eyes, or lack thereof? All in all, there was too much risk for you to change anything, even if them being around did make life more fun.
Life carried on, and that’s led you to the year that you’ve gotten to know Sans. Something about being with him makes it easier to forget about your curse than anything else. Sure, there’s his unparalleled jokes, but there’s something about his understanding that you feel the most. Whether you’re enjoying a success or bugged from a tough day or week of work, he always seems to know exactly what to say, and it’s never felt like it’s come from a textbook. It’s simply how he operates, and something as real as his behavior is incredibly comforting.
His philosophies on life are always relatable, and as time goes on, he’s shared more about what he’s had to experience to get to where he is. Sans is generally a more private person about bigger things, so everything he’s shared about nerves to overcome and finding happiness from the people around him is something you treasure and promise to never let leave your space with him. There’s times you’ve debated just opening up about what’s been troubling you for all this time, but the more frequently you’re together, the more you surmise it’s not worth risking. You’ve got something very nice going, and your challenge is so different than what he once faced. Too much to lose…
The weekend ends up being a highly welcome distraction. Your way out of being near rare meats at the house is that you have an allergy to being near too much grease. As for how realistic that is, you’re not very sure, but neither Sans or his brother, Papyrus, have questioned it, so any cooking with it is done far away from you. Finished meats, for whatever reason, are fine. Whoever crafted the curse had far too much time on their hands.
“WELL! LET’S SEE IF THE 301 PAGES ON DARTS THAT I READ CAN MEAN A GAME OF 301 POINTS.” Seems you were right about him reading a book.
“Uh oh, not sure how I’ll stand a chance against that.”
“DID YOU READ 302 PAGES?”
“Alas, that’s 302 two many.”
“WELL! THE CHANCES MAY BE IN MY FAVOR! BUT I WOULDN’T BE DOING MYSELF A FAVOR BY REWARDING MYSELF A WIN, SO LET’S STILL PLAY.” As you expect, Papyrus completely wipes the floor against you this time, with the final score being enough of a difference for you to give a bit of a bow when you shake his hand.
“Forgive me, I’m not worthy of someone as advanced as darts as you.” Sans laughs a bit at how formal it all looks.
“what a performance. can feel the tear in my bull’s eye.”
“SANS, NOW’S NOT THE TIME TO CONFUSE ____ ON DARTS TERMINOLOGY. WHAT IF THEY START MISSING THE BEST SPACES ON PURPOSE? AND IT’S OUR FAULT??”
“Pfff, don’t worry, Papyrus, neither of you are gonna sabotage my darts game. How the heck did you find the time to learn this much about it, though? You’re so busy with everything else you do, you’re the monster mascot, you run cardio lessons, there’s a bajillion other things you’re researching…”
“OPTIMIZED SLEEPING! THERE’S FAR MORE YOU CAN DO IN A DAY IF YOU’RE MAXIMIZING EACH HOUR YOUR SLEEP. NOT RECOMMENDED FOR THOSE WITH FLESH, ESPECIALLY RECOMMENDED FOR THOSE WHO DON’T HAVE A BODY AT ALL.” The first one disqualifies you, so you decide to not follow Papyrus’ efforts at minimal sleep, which don’t seem to tire him an ounce.
Each time you spend the day with the skeletons, you’re left feeling far better than before you made the trip. It makes you want to be there longer, with less time between your stays. Papyrus’ energy and ability to do anything he sets his mind to never stops inspiring you, and something about being with Sans continues to be very, very warm and cozy. Whether he’s lining up a mini-golf putt, finding a way to teach you about cellular biology, or joking about the layers of a burger being a “burgaucracy” when the cheese takes over all the flavor, his perspective makes everything feel easier.
Your handhold with him at the mini-golf course hasn’t left your mind, either, and some other similarly awkward moments spring up, like grabbing for the TV remote at the same time, or happening to want the same chip from a big bag. Each time it happens, he seems to get a bit more… stirred up? You’re not sure how else to explain the little shakes his hands get that seem to stop if you look too close. It’s never been something you’ve wanted to pester him on, though, so you’ve kept quiet, even if it does leave you with questions.
Eventually, on a pleasant August weekend, when thinking of things to do out and about in the nice weather, the local arboretum comes to mind. You’d love if Sans could come, so you shoot him a text about it.
“Hey, got anything goin’ on today?”
“nah, u?”
“Got an idea for something if you wanna know”
“ya gotta pay the toll first”
“Toll?”
“yea, a pic of a roll of toilet paper”
You’re not sure why he needs this, but you make the effort to get off the couch to get a picture of one.
“thanks, that’ll be great for the research”
“Research?”
“oh that’s top secret for now, shouldn’t have said anything, oh well can tell you some other time”
Once Sans finishes rolling along about toilet paper, you share the idea and ask if he’d like to come.
“oh that sounds real nice. nature and some summer air for the joints. 4 good?”
“Sure thing, see you there!”
“try not to forget to bring yourself along the way”
“Yeah, that’d stink if I just forgot myself, I’d have to go all the way back home”
You really, really hope he never changes.
The arboretum’s a large, protected area of nature that’s home to trees and floral life from around the world. It’s hard to find anyone in town that doesn’t appreciate the beauty and the peace it provides, and you definitely aren’t an exception. Soon after you’d made the move to this place, you’d gone here often to find some tranquility, when that was something hard to feel just about anywhere else. This would be your first time with Sans, though, and with his interest in sciences, you figure he’ll enjoy this a lot too.
A happy Sans looking at all the nature and feeling refreshed… thinking about that makes you really happy, even more so than it would before. There’s something about being with him, his demeanor, and… yes, his endearing mug, which certainly isn’t what you would’ve thought you’d think some day about a skeleton when you were growing up. It makes you feel all the happier to have him as your good friend, in the midst of everything else you keep having to think about.
All this thinking about Sans, though, and no Sans himself. A peek at your phone tells you it’s 4:02. Was something holding him up? You hope everything’s alright…
“heyo. sorry i’m late.”
It gets you each and every time. Jolting around, you see that Sans silently appeared behind you, knowing exactly where to be to rattle your bones the most.
“S-Sans! Hi! It’s no problem, glad you’re here!”
“had to clean some dishes. hope the hold up didn’t make ya want to leaf me alone.” Knowing how strangely tall the sink is at the skeletons’ house, you laugh at his joke and assure him it would’ve taken you longer, as you start to walk with him along the main path.
“so, ya’ve been here a lot?”
“Yep, I really… *cough*… really like how different all the nature is. Lots of things wouldn’t find anywhere around.” His surprise nearly made you explain why this place matters so much to you, but you managed to catch yourself.
“sweet, this’ll be real pretty. i really gotta show you the nature ‘round where i used to live. curious if the flowers’ll wanna leave you alone.”
“Leave me alone?”
“yeah, the flowers there do a good job hangin’ on to everything ya say. if ya don’t put your petal to the metal and find somewhere else to bloom, ya won’t stop getting yammered to.” He enjoys the confusion in your face and refuses to explain any more about these strange, pestering flowers.
“Well, we gotta check them out sometime, then!”
“sounds like a dat- day together. yeah. a day together. definitely a day.” His covering isn’t hiding what he was about to say, and he seems to know that, with how his face fills up with a tint of blue and he stops talking. Sans is definitely keeping something quiet… but whatever it is, there’s definitely way more you’ve been keeping to yourself. Pushing would be hypocritical, so you keep walking through the path, eventually coming up on some tall, purple flowers to read about together.
The two of you keep close together as you come up on trees and plants, reading the factoids that the little plaques have to offer. Every now and then, some of the lab biology that Sans has worked with makes him know something about a plant’s scientific way, and he finds a way to share it with you that’s very easy to understand. You’re far from safe from being a joke subject still, though, as he finds some plant names that’re close to your own name to mush together.
Minutes, and eventually hours, pass by, and neither of you think to check anything outside of being in one another’s company. It makes you think about Sans’ generally reserved nature, and how a good bunch of that seems to open up with you. If that means he’s really comfortable right now, you’re grateful that he can be feeling that way.
“wanna go sit over there?” The path nears the end of the arboretum and overlooks some rolling hills that look perfect enough for a postcard in the evening sun. Your legs could use a break, so you agree to stop over there… and find yourself sitting on a cleverly hidden squeaky toy. After all the peace of the trees, the noise makes your butt shoot right off the bench, with your eyes now catching the little football that was squeezed inside.
“pffff, thought ya’d know to check anywhere ya sit down with me. a bit behind on that.”
“B-But… you got here at 4:02! There’s no way you were finishing cleaning a dish and putting this over here in that time…”
“sure did. tried a shortcut, got real lucky.”
“Oh. You, uh… I’ve really never met anyone like you.”
“heheh, sorry.”
“O-Oh, not that way! Just can’t think of anyone else that’d do that much set up to get me to sit on the dog toy.”
“i’ll give it to that dog that’s been invading our home for years. papyrus’ll sure like that.” Sans pockets the toy in his hoodie before looking out at the view. It’s probably the prettiest sight in town, making the trip worth it every time. Not that you needed any other encouragement, though, with your best bud by your side.
Neither of you talk much, opting to take in the sight of the trees and sounds of the sparrows that’re fluttering around. It makes you think about how Sans hadn’t gotten to enjoy these sights and this air since… well, however long he’s been around, you haven’t found yet if it’s proper to ask a monster their age. You can hear him loudly drawing air in through his nose-hole, one of the only loud things he’ll do now and then, and as you look back at the nature and feel his arm around your shoulder, you’re happy that this can be such a decompressor for him-
Wait. Hand around your shoulder? How long’s he been doing that? Looking to your left, Sans seems completely oblivious that he’s doing this, but after his pupils follow a hawk flying ahead, they eventually meet you and your slight confusion.
“erm- eheh, sorry, i… i, uh… w-well…” You can feel his hand coming off your shoulder, and on some impulse, you find yourself putting your hand over his to keep him from doing that.
“N-No, that was… nice?” Ending ‘nice’ with a question. Way to make him feel better.
“ya sure?”
“Yeah, I… I want you to get to do whatever you wanna do.” It’s the best you can think of when asking yourself what you’re feeling, and it seems to stir some confidence in your friend.
“…uh… ____, i, uh… i think i gotta tell you something.”
“T-Talk away.”
“you, uh, eheh… ya make me feel special. in a way i can’t say i’ve ever felt before. any problemo or worry wart just fades away.” Sans is immediately sent into a long, long explanation that’s by far the most you’ve ever heard him talk about himself. He talks about how he’d never looked for someone in the Underground to have a long connection with, thinking it’s not what he wanted in life, but that being with you has made that completely change. Your kindness to him and the happiness you feel from rolling with any subject, never wanting to take things too seriously, and many other details come up for why he feels so nice around you, and how much you made shift inside him.
“it- it ain’t something i ever thought i was gonna feel, and i was fine with that, but… i talked to my bro about all this, and he said i deserve to do anything that’d make me love life most. if this is how ya feel too, i, uh, t-think you’re really cool, and i, y’know… wanna be c-close… gosh, why can’t there be easier words for this stuff.”
“Sans.”
“y-yeah?”
“…Please don’t worry, I…” You pause to find the right words. Sans being the first to talk about this sure wasn’t what you were expecting, but… it’s exactly what you’d been trying to find inside, too.
“…I have to thank you, that’s something I’ve been trying to find the words for, too. Heck yeah, I feel every bit of that about you, too.” His expression completely lights up, and the admittedly very cute blue glow in his cheeks and around his nose-hole returns.
“y-ya mean it? that isn’t the biggest bamboozle on the boulevard?”
“Of course not, ya dork! What could I not love about the way you approach things, your jokes, your smile, and everything else? I, eheh, really do like everything about you. Whatever you’d wanna call us, I… I’d really like that. C’mere, you.” You’re proud of everything Sans managed to get out there, and find yourself wrapping him into a close hug. With you having about a head of height over him, the top of his skull ends up under your cheek, close enough for you to see and appreciate the little glow his pupils give off.
“well, uh… this is…” Sans stops, looking away from you. In a flash, his face looks startled, as he jerks you closer to him. You can hear an undoubtable splat of bird poop hit the part of the bench behind you, and you don’t need to ask what he just saved you from.
“Awwww, look at you. Brave and a savior.” With how often he’s tripped you up with jokes, finding that kind words is a way to return the favor is something you’ll be glad to use again and again.
“eheheh, no prob. this is nice. we don’t want it becomin’ a shitty situation.”
“Yeah, what a turd that bird’d be for doing that. Way to try to rustle the feathers we don’t have.”
“pffff, or we’d have to tell it to flockin’ leave us alone.” Each joke makes you more and more grateful Sans let everything out that he did. Everyone’s special someone should be their best friend, monster or human. It’s only been this way for a minute, but you can already tell how correct this feels. If every evening can be as peaceful as this feeling of being snug with him and looking out at the trees, it could make each day you’re together so soothing, and… and…
Wait. The curse.
It doesn’t take long for the worries to hit you like a sack of bricks. Being closer like this means more time you’re together, which means a bigger risk something’ll happen some day. What if you screw up, and Sans finds out? Could he think you want to eat him? Would him and his friends think you’re some demon, trying to fit in with their kind? You were so caught up in his warmth and your excitement for being together that it’d somehow completely passed your mind. You’ve been this close for three minutes, and you’re already thinking about what could go horribly wrong.
Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no.