Chapter Text
Beep! Beep! Beep!
You wake from your dream, only to slowly process that the beeping was your 6:45 alarm. Perhaps you should wake up, but your bed… your sleeping position… it all felt so perfect. After a few cries from your phone, you clicked the snooze button without opening your eyes.
You refreshed your position, flipping on your chest and hugging the pillow.
...
Beep! Beep! Beep!
You wake up from your dream again, and peeled your eyes open to check the time. 7:00am.
Maybe you should get up. If the sun peeking through the window wasn’t a sign, you could also hear the morning birds.
You hit the snooze button again and let out a deep sigh. You weren’t ready to get up yet. You mentally promised yourself that you will get up soon, just a little bit longer…
A nasal sigh emerged next to you followed by the sound of shuffling sheets.
“you gotta get up, i don’t wanna hear the series of beeps again like last time,” The voice was sluggish and deep. “i need my beauty sleep.”
You grunted in response. It’s all you can muster right now.
You felt more shuffling next to you, and a bony hand creeped under your shirt to rub your back. It felt hard, but warm and smooth, almost like plastic if you could compare it to a human material.
“…Can you scratch my back?” You asked.
“…sure.” He whispered, pulling his hand out of the shirt and resting it over the fabric. He curled his fingers and started to scratch in circles, not painfully but applying enough pressure to wake your nerves. He aimed in certain parts, circling from your shoulders, then your middle back, and repeat.
You hummed greatly in content, enjoying the act of service and the attention from your partner.
“Ok, I’m up, I’m up.” You announced, lifting your body from your elbows and turning to face Sans. His head was still deep in his pillow, eyes closed. His body was limp with one arm over your body, also limp after serving its purpose. He’s wearing a souvenir tee from the time you both went to a Cracker Barrel for the first time. It was a mustard yellow, which surprisingly looked good on him.
He opened one eye halfway and looked at you, grin still plastered on his round head. You can’t help but to chuckle.
Sans closed his heavy eye again, “what’s so funny?” He quietly asked.
“Oh nothing, I just think you’re cute.”
He chuckled back, eyes still closed. “little ol’ me? wow, and i don’t even have to try.”
You smiled and lightly caressed his skull and the back of his neck. You could tell he enjoyed the attention from the change in his grin and him fiddling with a piece of hem from your shirt.
...
Beep! Beep! Beep!
Ah, well, bonding time is over. You both separated to shut your alarm up for good, then you reached back to Sans to give him a quick kiss on his temple.
Heading straight to the bathroom, you began your morning routine.
Afterwards you headed to the kitchen and checked the cat bowl, now empty. Going straight to the pantry to open the crinkly dry food bag, you can hear a scratchy meow in the distance. Your senior cat was awake and came to greet you and the prize you had in a cup. As soon as you poured the kitty kibble in his bowl, he dipped his nose in to sniff then chow. Toast was a name that you chose for his brown fur, but it was rarely used. Sans preferred nicknames such as “Mr. T” or “Pawpaw.” You preferred “Chunky” or “baby.”
As he was eating away, you pulled out ingredients from the fridge. You were feeling a bit fancy today.
Toasted bread with cold mozzarella, tomato, pesto, and basil. You bought it once at a sandwich shop, and after seeing how simple it was to make one, it became your favorite go-to meal for a while. On hot days, it especially hit the spot.
You sliced the bread, flattened it in the heated pan, and sliced your fillings.
“can I have one?” Sans asked, heading straight to the fridge for orange juice… and ketchup.
“If you pour me a cup,” You bargained, but then quickly spun your head-
“NOT the ketchup.”
Sans looked back at you, about to pour ketchup into a glass.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Put that down, you scoundrel.”
He exchanged the red bottle for orange juice, “you’re missing out, there’s benefits to drinking ketchup.”
You handed Sans a plate of your fancy sandwich. “…Such as?”
“well…for humans…” he started out. You watched in anticipation as he struggled, only to see him pull out his phone instead.
“for humans… it ‘may ease inflammation, boost your immune system, lower your cholesterol levels, and keep your blood from clotting’.” He read flatly before looking back at you. The confidence emanating from his raised brow and flirty smile, you didn’t know whether to laugh or play along.
“I can get that from onions and garlic. And V8 is a thing, don’t forget.” You took your glass of juice and followed him to the living room couch.
“ah, but with V8 you don’t get that ‘tang.”
“Ew. I don’t want cold tomato juice or sauce, period.”
You both paused your debate when seeing Toast, who was resting loaf-form on his usual side of the couch.
“sup, pawpaw.” Sans greeted as he cautiously sat next to him, plate on one hand and ketchup in the other.
Toast looked back with squinted eyes, slowly blinking.
You switched your orange juice on the coffee table for the tv remote and turned it onto the news. The news segment finished and was now showing different ways to spice up your spring party platters.
Having the silence to enjoy your breakfast, Sans asked after a swig of ketchup.
“so, what’s the plan today?”
“Hmm…” you drank some orange juice to clear your throat. “Today I have to do some errands, but later today we’re meeting up with your brother for dinner, remember?”
Sans smile grew, “yea, he’s so excited for that. we were calling last night and he insisted on making a quiche.”
Your eyebrows raised in interest. “A quiche? I thought he didn’t like quiches.”
“he doesn’t like mine. I know he’d never tell me though, he just smiles and tells me it’s ‘ok.’ what a trooper.”
“I like your quiches, it’s good with tea.”
“thanks, always happy to please a fan.” He ate the last bite of his sandwich, “it’s actually tori’s recipe.”
“Yeah, that I remember you telling me.” You look away in thought, “I haven’t seen her in a while, I wonder how Frisk and her are doing now.”
“probably enjoying retirement and her bakery.”
After reaching the surface, all monsters slowly found their place integrating in human society Under Asgore, Toriel, and Frisk’s guidance. When the time was right, Toriel stepped down from being queen for the last time and began enjoying the rest of her days taking care of Frisk and owning a small bakery, located a bit far from you and Sans’ apartment.
You and Sans follow Frisk and Toriel on monster Facebook, but Sans surfs through it more than you.
“frisk’s a part of their school’s lacrosse team now.” Sans continues.
You set your empty plate on the coffee table with his. “They’ve WHAT now? Actually, that’s fitting now that I think of it… but I never thought lacrosse would be the one.”
“yea,” Sans sighed as he turned to look at you, “i guess that’s the one they’re sticking with at the moment.”
Oh, so we’re starting this now, huh?
“I can’t blame them. I’d be
ballin’
with the rich kids if I had the chance.”
“the connection between lacrosse and wealth is a widespread misconception. it’s a dangerous sport, ya gotta have
balls.
”
“Oh, of course I’m not discrediting Frisk’s talents, they’re an incredi- ball teen with so much potential.”
“exactly, so be nice or i’m gonna get ball-i stic.”
You scoffed, “Ballistic? You? The only kind of “ball” you do is
ball-ing
from watching the Titanic.”
“no way, nuh uh,” Sans sputtered, equally embarrassed and impressed at your wit. “automatic disqualification. you can’t use my sensitive nature against me. that’s a beautiful movie and you know that.”
“Yeah, ok, all I hear is ‘grrr i can’t top that, that was so good…’ “ You laughed, making sure your impression of Sans sounded nothing like him at all.
Sans slumped back on the couch, totally not losing his cool.
“looks like the student has become the master…” he accepted in defeat, smile still sweet and genuine. His cheeks were slightly tinted, perhaps from the excitement.
You scooted closer, your legs touching his. “You’re holding back, I could tell.” You teased, resting your chin on his shoulder. You placed your free hand on his chest, rubbing it soothingly to reassure him that he is still the Punmaster in this household.
Sans softly chuckled, “yea, i’m not gonna lie. i’ve got a
soft spot
for you.” he pauses to observe your reaction. “y’know, even though i’m a skeleton-”
“YES, yes, I get it.” you interrupted, face scrunching at the low hanging fruit.
Sans turned to place a hand on your thigh, initiating you to move even closer.
“cool…still got it.” he murmured with a loosened grin.
You kissed his teeth softly as Sans sat still, his eyes closed. His thumb rubbed circles on your thigh and you felt him do a breathy sigh, melting at your touch. As you trailed your kisses from his cheeks to his jawline, he swallowed dryly and ran his hands to your hips to squeeze your skin. You winced at the pain, but it was only an invitation to do something more. You both reposition on the couch, Sans laying you down on the couch as he used his hands to roughly roam your body.
“W-wait..” you moaned.
Sans snapped out of his hungry daze, “...whuh? what happened?”
“He’s watching…”
He turned to your geriatric cat, who was indeed on his side of the couch, still loaf-shaped.
“oh. what’s up little pussy?”
“DON’T call him that.”
Seeing Toast’s emotionless state, you’d think he couldn’t care less about any of this.
“alright, i get it grandpa. Sheeeesh.”
He got off and playfully slapped your thigh, making you react with an “ow!” He’s feeling a bit silly now. That’s ok. It’s endearing when he’s at his maximum energy level.
“well, wanna tango in the bedroom?” he said, clearly riled up from the turn of morning events.
Whatever. Those errands can wait.