Work Text:
Wingding Gaster has never thought of his name as something particularly special.
It was just a name.
A label.
Unique, to differentiate one from another.
Though, the label itself doesn't really ensure the owner’s value or quality.
Just like how specimen N-04H is called as thus, to make it easier to know which being are being mentioned. To make it easier to know which ward he belongs to and which doctor is in charge of him.
And he found his name in that exact same nature.
A label, one that is not particularly special.
If he must comment, he would say that his name is particularly uncreative. Though, it does bring a certain….
How to say it…
…
Warmth?
…
Yes.
He supposed that word suffices.
His name does bring a certain warmth to his chest the moment he found out that it was a mean of connection to his brothers.
The Fontaine , as his youngest brother would like to say, refusing the second brother’s suggestion to just call themselves as Fonts.
And it really is just that.
A small warmth that has wrung its way to his… chest. Because it was his brothers that had called his name as if it was anything more than a unique label.
As if it was a secret inside joke that only the three of them understand.
As if it was something special.
Wingding Gaster absolutely refused to accept that something as insignificant as a label is considered to be important enough to affect him physically.
He is a scientist.
A man- or monster of logic.
He will not accept that something as intangible as calling one’s name could affect one’s physical body unless it was proven directly by himself.
And here he was…
Finding himself at a loss…
The sight of you, the writhing human, shivering as you bit your own lips to prevent a sound.
Ba-thump
Your lovely cheeks, flushed like a blooming blossom as you looked at him expectantly, shivering from the cold like a newborn lamb.
Ba-thump
“...Gaster-!!”
The sound of his name came out slightly high pitched. Breathy. Angry.
Gaster have never thought that a sound could be so mighty as to melt one’s brain.
‘Truly…this is maddening…’
“...Gaster…?”
You called his name.
For the nth time that night.
His name has never sounds so lovely.
“...Gaster…I swear-”
The sound of frustration coming from the litthe human is truly another force to reckon with.
“Gaster-!”
“Yes, (Y/N)?”
“You finally respond!... Can you move and share the umbrella with me? It’s freezing…”
“...”
“...please?”
“You can take one from the basket on that corner. We put it there since this part of Waterfall is always raining.”
“...”
“...”
“You mean you make me stand in the rain that long for nothing?!!! Why didn't you tell me sooner?!”
“You didn't ask.”