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Love.
Something you'd think Killer would know a lot about, considering his past as "sans", the oh-so popular comedian.
But no. He had never been in a relationship before, never even had a *crush* before.
So, it was understandable he was up at 3 in the morning knowing he had a mission in the morning tomorrow, and that instead of resting, he was playing daydreams of Nightmare in his head, and replaying every memory that could possibly validate that Nightmare liked him back (if he didn't think about it, then Killer wouldn't have to face the fact he was lying to himself.)
It was also understandable when he paced around the corridors, consider going into Nightmare's bedroom but ultimately going back to his own instead, a voice in the back of his head calling him a coward.
At least, he thought it was understandable, but what did he know, with that shriveled up and rotten target he called a soul. It wasn't *his* fault if someone decided to constantly be so attractive, and smart, and logical, and so beautifully cold, and-
Ok. He may have had a SLIGHT problem with liking Nightmare, especially considering he was now back in the hallway, right outside his own door, yet for some reason refusing to go in there.
But what could he do? He couldn't exactly go to the others about it, not with his constant guilt every time he thought of Nightmare while hanging out with Cross, that wet cat of a man. He didn't understand WHY he has to get a crush on Nightmare.
Especially not when he already had one on Cross.
It was ridiculous. Either he was thinking of Nightmare taking his face in his hands, kissing him sweetly, then bending him over and-
Okay, not the time for that.
It was either that, or thinking of cuddling Cross, kissing the small scars he could see along his ribs as the both laid shirtless.
It was torture, especially considering how friendly Cross always was. That bastard was always over here helping him, washing his dishes when he felt too lazy to do it, sparing with him when everyone else was busy.
.
..
He loved them both.
He loved them both so much, and he couldn't do anything about it except hang out in the hallway in the middle of the night like a coward. He hated it.
He must've stayed there for at least until 5 am. And now here he was, in the middle of snowdin.
Snowdin was his area, alongside Cross. Dust took the ruins, Horror took waterfall, and Nightmare took care of the rest (with our help if we were done quickly).
If he hadn't stayed up late thinking about his stupid crushes, he would have seen the attack coming. If he wasn't so tired, he would have.
But he had. So he didn't see doganessa swinging her axe at him.
He only realized when he heard the distinctive sound of Cross's weapon blocking another, and turned his head in time to see it.
His precious Cross, on the ground, with doganessa about to swing down at him. That was unacceptable.
Killer shortcutted there immediately, wanting to swing his knife at her and—
A crack rang through the area.
The crack of multiple ribs getting broken, due to the swing of an axe.
Killer had crumpled to the ground quickly, feeling his own ribs moving around in unnatural ways. He stayed silent. That wasn't because it didn't hurt, but because he didn't have time to scream before fainting.
When he woke up, he was in the infirmary. There was a compressing weight around his chest, slithering along each of his ribs like a snake with a prey.
He tried getting up, but moving hurt a bit too much. So he did the next best thing.
"HEY!!! HEY!!!!!!!! I'M AWAKE!!!!!!"
He screamed his lungs out.
Cross was the first to enter the room (was he standing outside the door?)
He went to his side , and Nightmare went after him. No view of Dust or Horror.
"What happened?" Killer couldn't help but ask, though the growing smirk on his face indicates he didn't exactly take this seriously.
"You took a hit for me and fainted. I had to carry you back to the castle and the mission ended."
Oh. Right.
"Wow, I got to get carried by you?" Killer's tongue slithered out of his mouth for a second, showing the flirty nature of his comment, if the comment in and of itself didn't seem flirty enough.
Because why would he want to show disappointment? Why would he ever want them to know that he felt bad for making them fail. All because he was too tired and focused on playing knight in shining armor instead of concentrating? Atrocious.
If Nightmare knew of his emotions (which he did. He always did.) he didn't comment on it , instead choosing to lecture him for his carelessness.
Killer had to stay here for weeks. It was nice since Cross visited every day, but it still sucked. He couldn't move, and felt cranky from the pain like a baby.
When Killer was finally fully healed (with a mix of rest and daily healing magic), he decided to finally make a move. After all, what better way to make you realize you should confess than a near death experience.
It had been... Awkward. Killer had invited both Cross and Nightmare to some fancy restaurant in a post-true pacifist AU, and they had clearly not thought Killer was inviting them somewhere fancy (which he could understand, the name of the restaurant didn't sound fancy), or inviting them for serious reasons. This had led to Killer being in a dark red suit with a bowtie and a white ironed shirt and black polished shoes (most of which he had bought for the occasion)
Meanwhile, Cross had shown up in black jeans, a white t-shirt, a black jacket, and white sneakers, and Nightmare had shown up in black pants, a slightly darker teal blouse, and black shoes.
The only reason Killer hadn't seen their outfits beforehand was because he had planned to get there early to have drinks already there for when they arrived. (With their knowledge of course.)
Now, Killer felt very, very overdressed. Nevermind the two little boxes containing jewelry he might as well have spent an hour picking, the boxes having little ribbons. He had made sure they wouldn't be spotted by the two when they sat down.
Cross had ordered fried rice, with some mochi ice cream for desert (which would come later), Nightmare had ordered some sort of soup with octopus and a bunch of vegetables that he couldn't remember the names of with some rice on the side, and no desert, meanwhile Killer had ordered fried pig intestine with boiled vegetables, and mochi ice cream for desert (totally not for the sole reason that he could say "we ordered the same desert!" To Cross.)
He had tried his best to keep conversation flowing, despite noticing that he was weirdly much more nervous than usual about each of his words.
When came time for desert, Killer ended up not liking the ice cream (which he was sad about), so he ended up giving it to Nightmare who regretted not taking a dessert.
"Um.." Killer cleared his throat, and the two others stopped eating. It was time, and Killer was pretty sure he was about to melt right then and there.
"I... Uh." He kept tripping over his words, and suddenly the speech he had prepared before arriving felt very corny and horrible.
Oh god they were staring at him. They were waiting for him to continue. Oh god oh fuck oh god oh fu-
"I like you guys a lot. Please date me." He blurted out.
....
They were staying silent.
Had Killer said something wrong?
Oh god he was gonna get rejected. He would never be able to look at them again. Nightmare would kick him out of the gang and Cross would be his new right hand and they'd make fun of him and say how stupid and annoying he always was and—
"I like you too, Killer." Cross was the first to speak, Nightmare nodding in agreement. Killer felt like he couldn't breathe.
"You do?" He almost believed they were gonna laugh in his face and say that 'no, they'd never love someone like Killer.'
But they didn't. They just nodded again.
Killer got out a tissue from his pocket and wiped at the sludge descending his eyes.
He hurriedly got the small boxes that were sitting next to him on the free seat (they had a four person table) , and laid out the box for the correct individual in front of them.
Killer only knew the brand from asking Nightmare once while on a mission just the two of them. It was some expensive brand Nightmare had bought most of his rings from. Killer knew Nightmare only wore gold, so he had gotten him a golden necklace with a moon pendant made of one of the cheaper gems (lab grown or whatever). Of course, he had made sure they were blue, to match him. Meanwhile, he knew Cross wasn't a big jewelry guy, so he got him a silver bracelet with an accessory on it. It was a smaller rendition of his weapons that he had specifically gotten customized for Cross.
The two of them had cost him a lot, and he had to search a lot to find enough money. He had been saving up for sometime he had really wanted, but he ended up taking some of the funds from it (not all, he had other funds outside of that) to pay for it. Luckily, the lady at the counter had given him a discount because of "young love" or whatever. He didn't bother correcting her that he was in his thirties, as he was not about to pass up on a discount.
"Uh.. do you like them?" He asked, watching them intently as they opened the gifts, nervous.
Cross was the first to respond, saying he loved it. Nightmare agreed soon after. Killer was pretty sure he was slightly red in the face, but he ignored it in favor of practically fangirling in his mind about them liking the gifts.
Before Killer could do anything else, Nightmare got up from his seat and kissed Killer. It was barely a second, but it left him stunned.
.
..
...
....
.....
Killer, Cross, and Nightmare had been dating for a few months now, and it was heaven. All of his daydreams were coming true, and it was wonderful.
Maybe being the damsel in distress helped, sometimes.