Chapter Text
Sans and Grillby used to be friends.
They used to be so much more than friends.
Sans likes to think their friendship first started in middle school, but he had gone to the same school as Grillby for as long as he could remember. Maybe it was Grillby being withdrawn, quiet, and a little mysterious that made Sans gravitate towards him in the first place.
Sans loved Grillby. He didn’t deny that.
He didn't feel that way about Grillby right now, though.
They had broken up for almost a year now—maybe 8 months?—and Sans was fresh out of high school, ready to tackle adulthood. He and Grillby had something that lasted from sophomore year to October of senior year, and he was done with it. It was the end of May, now. He graduated . It was in the past. The end of high school was a time for new beginnings, and–
"Sans, are you sure you don't want to go to college?" Sans' father, a busy scientist, was sipping on his black coffee on the side of the table opposite from Sans. "You're so, so bright, and I think you could really benefit from-"
"We've talked about this before, dad. I just—I don't need all of that in my life right now. I could always go later on if I ever felt like it."
Sans was looking for somewhere to work and maybe get his own place, but you simply didn't need to have a proper college education anymore, especially not in this economy.
His father sighed in defeat. They sat in silence for a while at the breakfast table before his dad left, coffee in hand, to work in his office.
Sans had to really give it to his dad for trying to convince him to go to college for so long: leaving college pamphlets on his bed, making him write college apps, getting coworkers to have pep talks with Sans. Sans wondered if he really wanted him gone that bad.
He eventually jumped on the couch and scrolled on Instagram. He saw pictures of his best friend, Alphys, on a date with her girlfriend, Undyne. Alphys' short, black, wavy hair was in a ponytail, her glasses askew in some photos. Her hair is fried from going blonde two months ago and it now fading away–good thing her Filipino genes instantly granted her thick, amazing hair. She was wearing a sweater and jeans, with her bag that she crocheted herself displaying all her little pins and flags on it (the bi flag and Filipino flag were the only ones in the picture). Undyne's dark red (dyed–her natural hair color was also black) hair was in a messy bun, and she was wearing her usual tank top and sweatpants. It looked like they were at the mall, but it was hard to tell with Undyne's face covering half the screen in the photos.
Truthfully, Sans wasn't sure if he and Al were really best friends anymore. Sure, they texted often, but he was sure that they both felt like they were slipping away ever since they graduated. Alphys was planning on going to one of the best STEM schools in the country when fall started, and Sans was staying exactly where they had both been all their lives. They stopped going on 5 hour long Facetime calls, hanging out at the neighborhood playground and terrorizing the local kids, walking to each other's houses—and what next? Would they stop talking like he and Grillby had?
He kept scrolling, and scrolling, and scrolling—then he saw Grillby. Grillby and a girl holding his hand. God, he hadn't actually seen Grillby's face since they broke up.
The two seemed to be on a beach or lake, with Grillby standing straight as the girl leaned into him. Grillby had dyed his hair a dark red—that was new—and grown out his stubble quite a bit. He looked… older. More mature. Tired, but really trying to put on his best smile for the camera. The girl was beaming, clearly the one who suggested taking the photo.
The caption read: Post-graduation beach date with the girlfriend :)
It hit Sans like a fucking truck.
They weren't dating anymore. Grillby was allowed to date whoever he wanted. Think rationally, Sans, he thought. You're both mature, responsible adults who have grown up. You promised yourself you would be over him by now.
But god, the way they broke up wasn't a fight. It wasn't Sans or Grillby agreeing to break up. It was painful, agonzing, and slow, and left Sans wondering what he did wrong.
He couldn't bear remembering it anymore. Alphys probably wasn’t busy after her date–he just needed someone to hear him out right now.
[12:40 PM] Sans: al i need sum1 to vent to rn you free?
[12:41 PM] Alphys: yeah dude what happened???
[12:41 PM] Sans: grillby has a gf and i feel asndjejdn. saw his post on insta
[12:41 PM] Alphys: WHAT
[12:42 PM] Alphys: he got a gf??? since when???
[12:42 PM] Sans: idk
[12:42 PM] Sans: we never even officially broke up and he has a gf now
[12:43 PM] Alphys: im so sorry dude
[12:43 PM] Alphys: look he was the one who ghosted you. it wasnt ur fault. he stopped texting you all of a sudden, disappeared from his socials, and transferred schools. grillby's the one missing out dude
[12:44 PM] Sans: i dunno. i can't shake the thought that he just ditched me like that and came back on insta all of a sudden with a gf. ik something mustve happened with his parents or wtv but it hurt so bad
[12:44 PM] Alphys: still, it seems like he has his shit together now so it’s his fault for not texting you and telling you what happened. that's the least he could do
[12:44] Sans: i guess so. thanks a bunch, al :)
[12:45 PM] Alphys: ofc, text me next time anything comes up
[12:46 PM] Sans: you're too nice
[12:46 PM] Alphys: if you ever need me to be meaner it’s my duty as your best friend to do so
[12:46 PM] Sans: thx alph <3
He sighed. A part of him kept saying he deserved all of this—to be ghosted and then replaced. Grillby had no obligation to talk to Sans, not after months apart. He desperately hoped the same thing wouldn't happen with Alphys, but he knew she deserved a best friend better than him.
Desperate, that’s what you are. You're overreacting. It's not that big of a deal. You're acting like you need Grillby to breathe. Like Alphys said, he's the one missing out.
If he knew this, then why did he still feel so terrible? Why was it so hard to shoot down his feelings?
Sans shut his phone off and rolled his face into a pillow, groaning his frustration into it. Then he heard loud footsteps clopping down the stairs, definitely not his dad.
When the footsteps drew closer and stopped, Sans looked up from the pillow. "Hey, Paps."
"Are…" Papyrus scanned Sans' face. "Are you okay, Sans?"
"Doing just fine," He forced a sideways smile. "How are you?"
Papyrus frowned. "Something's clearly not fine, brother."
Sans rolled his eyes. "You're not going to make this easy, are you?"
Papyrus shook his head and studied Sans’ features. "But if you don't want to talk about it, you don't have to."
Sans debated telling his brother what had happened, but decided against it. "I don't want to."
Papyrus shrugged. "Nyeh. Let it be known that I tried." He started walking away from the couch and into the kitchen, but turned to face Sans again. Sans noted the way his eyebrows furrowed and the corners of his mouth were uncharacteristically sad.
"You know I'm here for you anytime, Sans. If you need a hug, you don't have to 'man up' and say no."
Bless his sweet brother's heart, but Sans wouldn't dump all of his emotional mess onto Papyrus. His brother and dad knew he was gay and that he had dated Grillby before, but Sans had a strong distaste for sharing things like this. Even still, he couldn't refuse a hug from his younger brother. Sans reached his short arms out and Papyrus wrapped his arms around him for a moment.
"I don't know what happened, but I hope you feel better soon."
Sans tucked his head in the crook of Papyrus' neck. "Thanks, bro."
When he let go, Papyrus walked off into the kitchen again to cook something. Sans decided to curl up on the soft couch, tucking himself underneath a warm, heavy blanket, and not long after succumbed to his heavy eyelids begging to close shut.
After dozing off for at least 3 hours, he woke up to the smell of something burning not too far away from his nose. He slowly opened his eyes to see Toriel and Papyrus at the oven, trying to remedy the gross smell of burnt food.
Toriel, Asgore, Frisk, and Asriel visited often. They had been neighbors ever since Gaster moved here (long before Sans was born), and sometimes the Dreemurrs would materialize in their house at random. Sans was more surprised to see Asriel, as he was a year older than Sans and these days was away at college. He visited on occasion, but it seemed like he was home on summer vacation. And Asgore and Toriel had recently divorced, so it was even more surprising to see them visit together.
"Wingdings!" A very panicked Toriel yelled from the kitchen, coughing. The fire detectors were sounding off, and Asriel and Frisk were having a good time laughing at the hot mess in the kitchen. Frisk, Asriel, and Asgore sat in the living room along with Sans, who was still drowsy from sleep. Sans' dad quickly ran to the kitchen with a fire blanket in hand, opening the window, and putting out the flame. Frisk and Asriel clapped and cheered while Toriel and Papyrus were quick to apologize for nearly burning down the Gaster residence.
"Goodness," said Wingdings, "you nearly destroyed the kitchen!"
"Look, I'm really sorry, Dad." Papyrus said, exasperated. "It wasn't Ms. Toriel's fault, I swear."
"Oh, I'm not completely blameless, Wingdings…"
Sans' dad, Papyrus, and Toriel kept going at it for a couple of minutes before cleaning up the mess around the stove and countertops. Frisk and Asriel had started playing UNO and asked Sans to join, but he kindly declined and decided to go upstairs to his room. What he would do, he wasn't sure, but he wasn't in the mood to play UNO or deal with the mini house party going on downstairs.
He opened the door quietly and hopped on his bed. Maybe he would sleep for the rest of the day, maybe he would sit in bed and drown in some music, maybe he would call Alphys and play Minecraft. He could do anything, really—he just didn't want to feel miserable about Grillby.
Good god, he was pathetic.
He reached over to the bedside table for his headphones. The pair were decorated with faded skulls and bones by Sans and Papyrus drawing on them with paint markers a long time ago. He smiled despite himself and connected the Bluetooth headphones to his phone. He decided to play a random Spotify playlist (out of his many) and turn off his phone.
Sans let the music wash over him.
"'Cause you make my earth quake,
I don't want no confrontation, no..."
He stared at the ceiling and huddled underneath his sheets.
"And you don't want my conversation, no,
I just need some confirmation on how you feel…"
A song about a love so intoxicating that they make your entire world shake. Sans just wanted to sleep. He really didn't want to think about these lyrics too hard.
Just as the song was about to end, his phone rang and annoyingly stopped the music. He checked to see who was calling at 4 in the afternoon—surprisingly, it was Mettaton. He and Mettaton didn't really know each other, but Alphys was close to him, so of course Sans was familiar with the guy. Sans honestly wasn't sure why he had his number, though—or even why they went to the same high school. He thought Mettaton was some sort of nepo baby influencer with rich parents that owned a big hotel chain. Nevertheless, Sans answered the call.
"Hello, is this Sans?"
"No, it's Joe."
"Who is—oh, for Christ's sake, Sans. Very mature. I'll admit, you almost got me there, darling, but this is actually a business call."
Yikes. Sans hoped he hadn't messed up any job opportunities by making a bad joke. Sans apologized for the unprofessionalism, and Mettaton laughed it off.
"Oh, you're fine, darling! I'm actually calling because a little bird named Alphys was telling me you're looking for a job, and I have a couple spots open at my parents' hotel. I wanted to ask if you were interested in being a parking valet or working at the front desk…"
Well, he was looking for a job. And here he was, getting offered a job by the next-in-line for one of the most popular hotel chains in the world. Was he going to pass on an opportunity like this?
"Er, when and where do I go to get interviewed?"
"I know it may be a little inconvenient, but would tomorrow be alright with you?"
Was Sans doing anything tomorrow? No, not really. He accepted and decided to go into the job interview blind the next day.
"Alright, thank you for your time! I'll see you at 2 tomorrow."
Mettaton hung up and Sans' music unpaused by itself, the song finally coming to its end. The conversation left him a little jarred. Would he regret that phone call in the future, when he hopefully gets hired? He hoped not.
Sans placed his headphones on his shoulders and walked downstairs to tell his family what happened on the phone. His breath was shaky and his fingers felt jittery. Why was he so nervous to tell his dad and Papyrus that he had found a job offering (or, rather, it found him)? He knew they would be happy for him. His dad would be elated— "You're finally becoming an adult,"— he would say. Papyrus would of course be happy for Sans, as his sweet brother would always support him.
With sweaty palms, he tiptoed to the living room and kitchen. Sans saw the Dreemurrs and his own family at the table eating—presumably what Papyrus and Toriel were trying to cook earlier. His dad noticed him walking in first, and upturned his head as if to tell Sans to take a seat and eat with the rest of them.
Sans sat beside his dad, not daring to meet his eyes. He wanted to keep this as a notice, not an announcement.
He still felt his father's eyes burning into him, daring Sans to speak his mind. Not as a threat, but more like, I see you being anxious and I'd like you to tell me what's happening, right here and right now.
Sans' father wasn't particularly intimidating to most people—he was a science nerd and a frail, lanky, old man with vitiligo—but he was also brilliant, cunning, and a man that could communicate through just a look. Accurate for an acclaimed scientist in his field.
Sans stuttered. "I just wanted to tell you something," he gulped.
The old man raised an eyebrow. "So, what's going on, Sans?" His dad spoke much louder, as if to draw attention from the Dreemurrs and Papyrus—and of course, everyone was now listening. There's no need to be so nervous, Sans. Get a hold of yourself, they're proud of you. Your dad has always been proud of you. He wants you to be successful.
"I… I just got a job offer. By a friend. I'm getting interviewed tomorrow."
The Dreemurrs congratulated him immediately, and Papyrus patted him on the back. Had he sitting beside Sans this entire time? He was so busy worrying about what his dad would think to glance to his right. To his left, however, his dad smiled genuinely. Not that it was rare, (though now that he thought about it, Sans had finally made his dad smile over something he accomplished for the first time since he graduated,) but he was always looking for his dad’s approval. Just a smile from his old man meant a lot to Sans.
“And, Sans,” Gaster inquired, “what job are you being interviewed for?”
Sans didn’t know the answer to that, actually. Mettaton had mentioned something of a valet and working the front desk. Had he meant both jobs? Sans guessed they were so understaffed that Mettaton had to contact a high school friend that he barely knew and said friend was being asked to work multiple jobs at the hotel.
But of course, Sans wouldn’t tell them that. “A high school friend—his parents own that popular hotel chain, MTT Resorts—asked me to work the front desk. I haven’t asked about the pay yet, but, uh…” he thought for a moment, placing his words carefully, but in a way that didn’t feel forced, “I’m planning on doing… other things. Working other jobs, I mean.”
“Well,” Asgore said cheerfully from across the table, “that’s a step up, Mr. Gaster! First a desk clerk, then using that money to get that big brain of yours a diploma!”
Everyone at the table—excluding Sans, who tried to keep a poker face while his anxiety welled up inside him—winced at the comment. Asriel elbowed his dad. Ow, Asgore mouthed, what did I say?
Toriel coughed and rolled her eyes at her ex-husband’s tone deaf response. “What Asgore means to say, Sans, is that we are proud of you. This is your first job, and the fact that it was offered to you is exciting!”
Asgore began to apologize, but Sans’ dad held his hand up to stop Asgore from saying anything else embarrassing.
“I’m happy for you Sans, and I hope the interview goes well,” the scientist started. “We all know you have a talent for the sciences, but I understand that you don’t want to go to college, and that’s perfectly okay. All I wish is for you to be happy, son.” He then gave Sans a look that told him to talk to him one-on-one later.
“Thanks, dad. And it’s okay, Mr. Asgore, really.” Though Sans had a difficult time excusing his dad being so harsh on him, especially as of late, his little speech made Sans feel better.
They all continued to talk and eat around the table until the Dreemurrs had to leave. They all said their 10 minute goodbyes, and Frisk gave Papyrus their secret handshake on the way out. Sans realized Frisk was a high school freshman now, and he couldn’t believe it. Papyrus was an incoming senior. They grow up so fast.
When the door closed shut, Papyrus stood next to Sans. "Is this what you were upset about earlier?" Papyrus whispered—though he was notoriously terrible at whispering. "Not finding a job?"
Sans chuckled softly. His brother was always worried about him, always so careful and empathetic. "No… it wasn't." He took a short pause. He still didn't want to give away what was eating him up in the back of his mind. "But thank you for caring, Paps."
His brother smiled and punched Sans lightly on the shoulder. They were still brothers—they couldn’t be too nice to each other. Papyrus walked away (with a little spring in his step as per usual) to his room.
When Papyrus left, his father appeared beside him. He had a habit of walking quietly and scaring the brothers from behind unintentionally, but Sans expected it this time.
“I’m… sorry.”
Sans didn’t feel like meeting his dad’s eyes.
“I’m sorry for being hard on you all the time. I know I’m the reason why you don’t want to be a scientist, or a chemist, or a biologist, or whatever. I know that’s why you don’t want to go to college. I know I forced that on you.” He took a deep breath. “I love you, son, more than anything else in the world.”
“Maybe that’s why you’re at work all the time. Must be why I’m the one driving Paps to his basketball games, to school, to everything. You love us so much that you can’t even be around us for a whole day.” He still couldn’t meet his father’s eyes. Not because he was scared—but because if he looked at him he would fall apart and apologize for everything he said.
“Sans, I… I try to be there for you, and especially Papyrus. But so many things get in the way, and I’m trying to be present. I’m always a text or a call away. You know I always answer my messages punctually.”
Could Sans really be mad at his dad for trying to make sure he could get scholarships and college opportunities? Could he really criticize him for pushing Sans to do good in school? His father tried his best to provide for his family, being a busy single dad. Now Sans was making him cry.
But he knew his dad was right. There was nothing his dad could do to help his own situation.
After a long silence, Sans spoke.
“I understand, pa. I’m sorry to bring this all up, even though I know you’re right—”
“Sans, there’s nothing to apologize for.” Sans was about to lash out and tell him to not interrupt, but he held back. His father continued. “I just… If there’s anything else you want to tell me, tell me. I think I’ve said enough, at least for now. I’m going to be better about not pushing you. You’re an adult now. I trust and love you, Sans. I’m going to be there—or here—more for you and Paps. I promise that.”
Better. Better was good.
“I love you too, dad. Thank you.”
Sans took his old man in his arms and squeezed him. His dad wheezed and tried to hug back with the same ferocity, but failed. They laughed, and they were happy.
When Sans trudged back upstairs to his room, Papyrus was standing at the top of the stairs, his arms crossed.
“So.” His younger brother started.
“So…”
“So that’s what you were upset about?”
“Have—have you been listening?”
“Answer the question, Sans.”
Oh, good. Papyrus had just heard Sans yelling at his dad.
“Not exactly what I was upset about before, but… but it’s not important, Papyrus.”
“I will figure this out, brother. Mark my words.”
Sans and Papyrus bursted out laughing at the villain-of-the-week type shit Papyrus had just spat.
After a good laugh and another exchange of jokes, Sans stood at the opened door of his room. He really needed to clean up here.
With the soft noise of the door closing shut, he flipped the light switch. His eyes burned at the change in brightness, but he pushed through. He needed to look through his closet for an outfit to wear tomorrow. What do people wear to interviews?
Sans dug through his closet, or at least tried to. There were clothes scattered all across the floor (mostly basketball shorts and plain tees) to the point where you couldn’t see the carpet, while the nicer fabrics hung up on the clothing hangers collecting dust. To his surprise, Sans managed to find his one good dress shirt and matching pants through all the coats that haven’t fit him since middle school. He probably needed to buy more business casual outfits if he was going to be working at the hotel.
He laid the selection of clothing on his desk chair and turned off the room lights once again. The lamp that dimly lit his bedside table remained on, and Sans remembered that he had left his phone there too. He turned the screen on. No new messages.
He set his phone down to charge overnight. Today had been strangely eventful. He laid down on the mattress and drowned in his thoughts, the night quiet sans (puns of his own name are the most hilarious thing in the world) the sound of cicadas outside.
With it being summer break, Sans didn’t have to drive Papyrus to school or basketball, and their dad was going to be home more. It was the perfect time to turn a new page. He wouldn’t worry too much about the interview tomorrow, or his dad, or Papyrus, or Alphys, or Grillby.
I’ll keep this job until summer’s over. Just for the summer.
He hoped he wouldn’t regret that.