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—
Grillby made a sound like a sigh. He shrugged off his vest and now-greasy button up. The vest got hung up and the button up went straight in the laundry basket. He'd have to take it down to the washing machines later. Or tomorrow. It was already two in the morning. Saturday nights at the bar were always long.
Grillby lived in an apartment on the first floor of the Newer Home Apartment Complex. His upstairs neighbors were a lady named Undyne and her girlfriend, Alphys. Grillby liked them, he really did, but at that moment in time, 2am on Saturday night/Sunday morning, Undyne was throwing a very, very loud party. Again. And, regrettably, in the current moment, his opinion of them was a little less than superlative. Grillby could have sworn little flakes of popcorn ceiling were raining down on him like August snow.
The party upstairs was loud and distracting, but Grillby tried to ignore it and continued readying himself for bed. He wasn't quite sure how he would sleep with all this noise. Grillby didn't own earplugs, because his ears were more of a functional idea than a physical part of his anatomy. That is to say, magic and stuff, basically.
It was when Grillby had tucked himself into bed with his pillow taut over his face that a loud, heavy thud outside his bedroom window penetrated his polyester defenses. He threw the pillow off his face, frustrated because it was nearing three a.m., but also curious because he was more used to sounds being above his ceiling rather than outside his window.
Grillby peeked between two of the cheap plastic panels of the blinds, careful not to bend them. He scanned the concrete around the back patio of the apartment, straining his eyes against the dark.
There was an ill-defined, unfamiliar lump on a patch of the concrete a few feet from his window. He stepped back, fumbled his glasses onto his face, and pulled up the blinds to get a better view.
It seemed… like another monster. A hoodie and basketball shorts and… holy shit! Was that Sans? Grillby threw open his window and leaned out, using himself as a light source.
He only knew Sans as the regular at his bar who had a bad habit of pushing off payments. What was he doing on the concrete outside Grillby’s window? Sans lived closer to the bar, which was a ten minute drive from the apartments. Sans seemed to be moving minimally.
“...Hey…!” Grillby had meant to say it loudly, but it came out as more of a whisper-yell. “Are you alright?”
Sans shifted, facing his back towards the window. “hey, kill the lights, would ya? can't a guy get a nap around here?”
Sans’s voice was slower than usual. Grillby knew the cadence well. At the bar, it was the first indication that Grillby needed to call Sans’s brother, Papyrus, to pick him up.
Grillby climbed out of his window which was big enough for him to do that because of plot reasons. He couldn't just leave a drunk Sans outside.
He looked down at Sans and the outfit he was wearing nearly every time Grillby saw him. Grillby himself was only wearing a pair of sweatpants, and didn't much like the idea of being outside of his apartment where anyone could see him barefoot and shirtless, and then he realized he was fire, which pretty much soothed his self-consciousness.
“...Sans,” Grillby tried, not wanting to manhandle him. “can you stand?”
Sans only mumbled incoherently and threw an arm over his eye sockets, presumably to block out Grillby’s light.
“Alright,” said Grillby, mostly to himself. “...The hard way it is.”
He scooped his hands under Sans’s armpits and was surprised all over again at how heavy a bag of bones could be. This wasn't the first time Grillby had carried a drunk Sans, but it never got any less logic-defying.
“oh, hey… grillbz, is that you?” Sans asked when they made eye contact. “heyy. lookin ‘hot’ today. tonight. what time is it.”
“Nearly three…” Grillby placed Sans on his feet in front of him. “Can you stand?”
Sans seemed to understand this time so Grillby slowly brought his hands away from him. And then he watched as Sans swayed back and forth on his metatarsals. Gravity overtook him and he slumped face-first into Grillby’s chest. Grillby sighed, but Sans’s feet were still on the ground, which was a good sign.
“....Okay. I'm going to help you walk around… to the front of the building. We're going to go to my apartment…and see if we can't call Papyrus.” Grillby didn't think Sans could manage the fine motor functions of crawling through a window right now, and he didn't want to deal with that.
Sans was too short for Grillby to comfortably have Sans’s arm over his shoulder, so he just did it the other way around and hoped it provided the same support. When they struggled their way back around to the front door of Grillby’s apartment, Grillby sat Sans down on a chair in the small dining area.
Grillby went to his bedroom to retrieve his phone and call Papyrus, but by the time he had returned to where Sans was slumped over, he'd gone through all of his contacts (which were few) and realized Papyrus wasn't one of them. The only place Papyrus’s number was saved was on the phone at the bar.
Grillby sighed. “Sans…. Are you awake? I need your phone.”
No reply. Sans’s skull was squashed against his arm and the table. His eye sockets were shut. Asleep. Grillby attempted to shake his shoulders to wake him up, but that only evoked a snore.
Feeling a bit like he was overstepping, Grillby patted Sans’s pockets, searching for his phone. Sans didn't seem to have it on him. Maybe he'd left it at home? Or lost it? Who knew how he had even ended up here, wasted no less. He hadn't even been at the bar that night.
Sans stirred a little and batted Grillby’s hands away. “ugh…too warm,” he murmured (quite insulting, if you asked Grillby).
“...Good morning Sans. Do you have your phone?”
“yeah. no. uhh.” Sans felt his pockets. “i dunno. gotta tell undyne happy birthday. fuck, what time is it?”
Grillby massaged his temples. Undyne. He'd forgotten Sans knew her. “It's three a.m., Sans.”
“shit. hey, ’s this your place, g?” Sans looked around blearily, seeming to notice where he was for the first time.
“Yes.”
“i didn't know you lived with undyne.”
“I don’t.”
“oh. ok.” Sans rested his head back down on the table.
“...How did you get so wasted?”
“whuh? uhh… vodka. i think.”
“...You don't even… drink vodka.”
“undyne does. it's undyne's birthday. there was grey goose, in fucking. everything, i think! she always… has to do the most.” Sans looked up from the table and laughed loudly. “i saw the bottles, but. heh.” He put his head back between his arms.
Grillby gave him a concerned look. Sans would most likely not remember any of this tomorrow morning. Usually he only drank like this when he came into the bar in a sour mood. Y’know, minor alcoholism and stuff.
Sans being with Undyne explained why he was at the apartments. But the party was still very much going on upstairs, as evidenced by the current muffled screaming that Grillby could hear. Why was Sans outside Grillby’s window, then?
When he thought about it for more than a few seconds, he realized Sans had likely drunkenly fallen from Undyne’s balcony.
“you mind if i take a nap, g?” mumbled Sans, but his eye sockets were already closed.
“Yes, I mind.” Grillby stood up from the chair beside Sans and jostled him to try to make him alert. Before Sans passed out, Grillby needed to make sure that he didn’t hurt himself when he fell.
Sans grumbled but he opened his eyes halfway, sat up begrudgingly, and allowed Grillby to remove his zip-up. Grillby turned and inspected the bones of Sans’s arms for bruises or cracks. If he was honest, he wasn't very sure what an injury on a skeleton looked like compared to some of the other, more fleshy monsters (or humans) he performed first aid on at the bar. Or himself, even. Grillby checked Sans’s knees and even his lower limb phalanges, in case he had fallen on his feet. Grillby placed Sans’s slippers next to the table.
Sans had grown suspiciously quiet. Leaned over with his skull just barely on the edge of the table, he’d passed out. Grillby suspected it was for good this time. He sighed, because he still had to check his spine and ribs.
Grillby struggled Sans’s gray shirt off. He thought that once it may have been white. Sans, unconscious, was not very helpful with this process. Grillby gently pushed Sans forward and looked over each of his vertebrae. Finding nothing unusual, he pushed him back and examined his ribs. Grillby wasn't sure about all the different names of bones like Sans seemed to be, but there was a dark spot in between a rib and some hard cartilage to the left of Sans’s sternum. Sternum–Grillby knew that one (it was impressive, considering he didn't have any bones for himself)!
Grillby wondered if it was something that he had the materials to treat. It seems Sans had already been sufficiently numbed, so Grillby fetched a roll of gauze and a cotton pad from the medicine cabinet in his bathroom. He folded the cotton pad and pressed it against the dark spot (bruise?) on Sans’s rib. It was about the fourth one down. Grillby wrapped the gauze around the junction between the hard cartilage and the bone, securing the cotton pad. He tucked one end of the gauze into the other. Hopefully, this would cushion Sans’s rib and prevent the area from further damage. Or something. Grillby was throwing things at the wall and hoping they stuck.
Grillby was about to put Sans’s shirt back on him, but he looked it over. It was mottled with stains of grease and other questionable substances. The smell was… not pleasant. He threw it in the laundry with his own button up. Grillby walked off to his room and returned with two nightshirts. The one he brought for Sans was undoubtedly too big for him, but Grillby forced it over his skull anyway.
After putting on his own nightshirt and slipping on the only pair of casual shoes he owned, Grillby left his apartment to visit his upstairs neighbor.
Undyne, like a good host, answered the door with a grin. The music got at least two times louder when she opened the door. Her clothes and hair were less than neat and she was holding a drink in her other hand.
“HEY, NEIGHBOR! I HOPE WE HAVEN’T BEEN, UH. TOO LOUD!!!!” she yelled at him. Her breath reeked of alcohol.
“...Not at all. Happy birthday…” sighed Grillby. “Is Papyrus here?”
“PAP??” Undyne looked behind her. “UH.. NO, HE LEFT EARLY. LIKE, HOURS AGO. SORRY!!”
“Not a problem. Have you happened… to have seen Sans’s phone?”
Undyne stared at Grillby quizzically. “UHH…”
“Alright… May I use your phone perhaps?”
“OH, MY PHONE? SURE…” Undyne patted her jeans with both hands, holding her drink precariously between two fingers.
A very recognizable look crossed her face. Her face went as pale as a blue-scaled monster could, and her eyes glazed with nausea. She covered her mouth with one hand and hardly managed a “SORRY” before she slammed the door in Grillby’s face. He could hear retching on the other side.
Grillby cursed under his breath and returned to his own apartment. He was off the clock and miffed that he still had to deal with drunk people.
Upon walking into the dining room, Grillby found that Sans had slipped off the chair and was now sleeping on his floor. Great. Wonderful.
Grillby gathered Sans up and plopped him on his bed. He pulled his covers over Sans, hoping that he wouldn't puke on them. On that thought, Grillby scooted the trashcan over to the side of the bed. Grillby generally didn't mess with water, but he did still use it for cooking and it did still come out of his kitchen faucet, so he got a glass of tap water and set it on the bedside table.
He stood back. Sans was snoring again. Grillby supposed he was sleeping on the couch tonight.
—
Sans awoke confused and with a skull-splitting headache. It took him a moment to understand where he was. Actually, it took him more than a few moments. Where was he? He didn't recognize these covers, these walls, or even this shirt he was wearing, which had pretty bad implications. The alarm clock that he didn't recognize on the bedside table he didn't recognize told him it was almost nine in the morning, which was early for him. Sans was tempted to go back to sleep, but supposed finding out where he was took priority.
Pretty much all he remembered was going to Undyne’s birthday party last night. Where he was was similar to Undyne’s place, but not it. Sans’s ribcage hurt (along with his skull, his spine, and just about everything else). He felt a little dizzy. Maybe he might have overdone it this time. He was too damn old for this.
There was a glass of water on the bedside table, but Sans opted not to drink it, even though he felt like his mouth was past the point of bone-dry. He had a foggy memory of that being how he had gotten into this mess in the first place.
Sans cautiously made his way out of the bedroom, unsure if he was about to need to defend himself.
He stepped into the main room just as the front door knob jangled. Sans tensed. The door opened and a bright light was on the other side. He had to look away, because it worsened his headache. He heard a quiet “Oh..!” and the light dimmed a little. Sans chanced a look back, and the glow from the flames didn't attack his eyes as much. It was his bartender.
Grillby stood in the doorway with a laundry basket in his hands and his shoulder holding open the door. He was wearing a tank top and jeans, which took Sans a bit aback for the casualness. Grillby’s presence confused Sans further, because as far as he remembered, he hadn't even been drinking at Grillby’s last night. His head hurt.
“uh… grillby?”
“...Good morning…” tried Grillby awkwardly. He shut the door behind him.
Sans looked down at the shirt he was wearing, which was presumably Grillby’s. “did we sleep together?” he blurted.
Grillby nearly dropped the laundry basket. “....No.” He set it on the dining room table instead.
“ok.”
“You… were very drunk,” crackled Grillby’s voice. It was quiet and easy on Sans’s headache. “...You fell from Undyne’s balcony.” Grillby pointed above his head to gesture that his apartment was just under hers.
“huh,” Sans said thoughtfully, patting his pockets and finding no phone. “i’m surprised papyrus hasn't organized a search party by now. hey, i’m sorry for the trouble. thanks for making sure i didn't dust myself.”
“Don't…mention it. I don't know where your phone is…” Grillby gestured weakly to Sans’s empty pockets. “Maybe somewhere outside. But… I washed your shirt,” Grillby held up Sans’s freshly washed shirt. It was whiter than Sans had ever seen it. “That water on the bed table is for… your drymouth. I also have Tylenol.”
“oh, man. i owe you one, huh, grillbz?” Sans took the shirt from Grillby’s hands but didn't change into it. He noticed his jacket was also in the basket, but didn't say anything.
“Yes… you do. You can repay me by… paying your tab…”
“as soon as i can, g. you got my word.” Sans winked at him.
Grillby made a low sound like a bonfire hissing and popping. Sans had told enough good jokes at the bar to know he was laughing.
“Would you like… to stay for coffee?”
Sans sat down, smiling. “you’re too good to me.”
Grillby made coffee with monster-grown coffee beans, because although he could stomach human food, he could only consume water if it was combined with monster food materials. He poured his coffee into a plain white mug, and poured Sans’s into a mug that said “Life is what you bake of it” with a graphic of a muffin. Grillby thought Sans might appreciate it; it was the tackiest thing he owned.
“heh. this mug is awesome.”
Grillby chuckled. He was never wrong. He had that bartender’s intuition.
Sans took a slow, savoring sip of coffee. Since coffee was a diuretic just like alcohol, Grillby filled a new glass of faucet water for him and placed it next to his mug. He didn't want to walk back to the bedroom.
Grillby pulled the other chair to be opposite of Sans’s and sat across from him.
“so, i was pretty trashed, huh?”
“Yes… Blackout drunk.”
“damn.”
“I didn't… take you for the type.”
“i’m not, heh. i think i got handed this giant tumbler. from alphy of all people. i dunno what i thought it was, but not vodka. which, it’s subtle in water, i guess. or something. i dunno, i don't really drink it.”
“... I know you don't.”
“it's pretty strong!”
“......... I know it is.”
Sans sucked in a breath through his teeth, and it kind of sounded like a grimace. Maybe at the awkwardness of this situation, he thought.
“so, i better call pap, huh? where is it that you said my phone might be?”
“...Right. I didn't look, but it's probably where you fell.” Grillby gestured towards a wall of the dining space that also occupied a window facing the same way his bedroom one did. “...Sorry, it was past three so I didn't go back out.”
Sans waved him off. “nah, don't apologize.” He stood and strolled over to the window, in no rush.
Sans scratched his skull looking out over the concrete patio. He didn't really have a good view.
“... Is that it?” asked Grillby.
Sans started, not knowing he had come up behind him. He followed Grillby’s pointing to the plasticky pink corner of his cellphone case, half-hidden by a hedge. The phone case was a gift from Frisk.
“yep… facedown, yikes. doesn't bode well.”
“You might have… to go around from the front to retrieve it.”
“nah.”
Sans went to open the window, but it seemed to be stuck. He used all his strength trying to pry the window open. His elbows both popped. The window wouldn't budge.
“........”
“um.”
“......It's locked, Sans.”
Sans flipped the lock down. The window came up easily.
“oops. ‘sill’ a bonehead, i guess.”
Grillby pinched the bridge of his nose. Mostly in disappointment with himself for finding that funny.
Sans hiked a leg up over the window sill and let momentum carry him through. He couldn't quite touch the ground on the other side. He was actually quite far from it, in fact. He landed on his back.
Grillby shuffled over, sticking his head out the window and looking down at Sans. “...Are you alright?” He was laughing.
“never better.”
Sans picked himself up and dusted himself off. He also picked up his phone and dusted it off, as well. A few shards of screen protector came with it. The screen was cracked underneath. He walked back over to Grillby’s window as he tried to turn it on. It was still functional, just out of battery.
“it's dead,” shrugged Sans.
“... Well, come on inside… finish your coffee, and you can dial him from my phone.”
Sans gave Grillby a thumbs-up. Grillby cocked his head as the air filled with the sharp smell of ozone, like fresh rain and lightning. Grillby felt staticky for a moment. And then Sans wasn't in front of him anymore.
Grillby felt a presence behind him and spun around just as Sans rematerialized behind him. The esteemed “shortcut.” Grillby had never actually caught Sans doing it. Why he would use it for a five-foot jump was beyond him.
It seemed Grillby had turned around just in time, because Sans’s eyes unfocused and he leaned forward a bit too far for it to be purposeful.
Grillby grabbed him by the shoulders to stop his fall and he snapped back to alertness in less than a second.
“woah, heh. too tired for that one. shoulda figured.” Sans patted Grillby’s chest with the back of his hand. “thanks again, g.”
Sans turned to go sit at the dining table again, and Grillby shut the window.
Grillby took Sans’s phone and put it on an extra charger he had. Sans nursed his water, abandoning his coffee in favor of hydration. Grillby handed him his phone so he could call Papyrus, and sat across from him again, after confirming that Sans was okay with him staying in the room.
Sans dialed Papyrus’s number, which he had memorized, but wouldn't admit that he did. He put the phone up to his ear hole. Papyrus picked up on the first ring, like he always did.
“HELLO, WHO IS IT?”
“hey, bro.”
“SANS?? THIS IS NOT YOUR NUMBER!!”
“yeah, about that–”
“I TOLD YOU TO CALL ME! WHEN YOU DID NOT, I ASSUMED YOU WERE STAYING WITH UNDYNE AND ALPHYS. WAS THIS ASSUMPTION CORRECT?”
“uhh… sorta. i’m with grillby right now.”
“THE BAR??? IT IS NINE-THIRTY, SANS! I DID NOT THINK IT OPENED SO EARLY, NOR THAT YOU DAY DRANK!”
“nah, not the bar, the tender. i’m at his place. he lives in the apartment under undyne’s.”
“OH. I SEE.” Papyrus tried to lower his voice, but it was still a scream-whisper. “DID YOU… HOOK UP? WINK WINK! I KNEW YOU TWO HAD A ‘THING’ GOING ON! THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS ALWAYS CORRECT!!!”
He said “wink wink” out loud.
Sans groaned. The blood vessels in his bones betrayed him. His face felt hot.
“no. i was just, uh. ‘dropping’ by.”
Grillby laughed. Sans hid his smile.
“WHAT?”
“i’ll explain more later, bro. but, uh, yep. still alive, and with only minimal damage. and a hangover. i’ll be home soon.”
“AH…. OKAY SANS. IF THIS IS CODE FOR ‘I CAN’T TELL YOU ABOUT MY HOOKUP BECAUSE THE OTHER MONSTER INVOLVED IN THE HOOKUP IS LISTENING,’ THAT IS FINE, JUST KNOW I EXPECT MORE INFORMATION WHEN YOU RETURN HOME. AND STAY AS LONG AS YOU WOULD LIKE!”
Sans laughed awkwardly. “no, pap, i didn't–”
Papyrus hung up.
Sans cleared his throat, pulling the phone from his external acoustic meatus. “well, that was… could you hear all that?”
Grillby nodded, amused. “...Very loudly.”
Sans chuckled and Grillby joined him. They both relaxed a little.
Though Sans didn't have lungs or a diaphragm, laughing jostled his ribs a little too much and he brought his hand up to his left side with a pained hiss.
“ow, heh, what did i do??”
“You…. fell off a balcony, Sans.”
“right,” Sans smiled, exhausted. “you mentioned that.”
“...You have a fairly concerning bruise. I cushioned it, but…. I will admit, I’m unsure how a skeleton heals.”
It was true; with his hand on his ribs, Sans now recognized the bump over his fourth rib as bandaging. He was mildly surprised that Grillby knew he was hurt at all, and then remembered he wasn't in his own shirt. It was very much like Grillby to check Sans for injury. Or any drunk person, really! He was just a helpful kind of monster!
Sans took a sip of water to avoid speaking for another few seconds. “uh, yeah. thanks, g. i’ll just need to ice it later. and probably eat something.”
“...Of course!” said Grillby, suddenly standing from his seat. “You're hungry…!”
“grillbz, that's not what i meant…” Sans started, looking guiltily at Grillby’s half-finished cup of coffee. “you've, uh–”
Grillby twisted to look at Sans. He was already holding a carton of eggs. He looked dejected.
“uh… what i meant was, you know i’d never turn down free food.”
“That's what I thought you said…!”
-
Sans attempted small talk while Grillby whisked eggs and cut spinach.
“so, you're not going to work?”
The whisk made a tinny scraping sound against the metal bowl Grillby was using.
“Sans… I know you know the bar doesn't open… until eleven… on Sundays.”
“well, i might’ve had a hunch.” Sans was not going to admit to having the bar’s opening hours memorized.
Grillby turned halfway to make eye contact with Sans. “Cheese…?”
“please. whatcha makin’?”
“Omelets. Eggs for protein, spinach for iron,” Grillby shuffled around with the ingredients that had amassed on the counter. He produced two pieces of white bread that he put in the toaster. “...and toast, to help with your nausea.”
Sans put his skull in his hands. He was in disbelief. “you're a saint, g. no, a godsend. an angel. i think i’m legally indentured to you now.”
“Yes… You might be. Pay your tab.”
-
Grillby placed a plate in front of Sans. Two pieces of plain toast, and a perfect spinach-cheese omelet. It was the second most beautiful thing Sans had ever seen. He almost started crying.
Grillby refilled Sans’s water, and then sat down with his own plate. They ate mostly in silence, because Sans was too busy stuffing his face to speak, and Grillby wasn't much for starting conversations.
“Slow down. You'll… make yourself vomit.”
“it's all good, grillbz,” said Sans, pointing at himself with his fork. “i got a stomach of steel. or, well. I guess i don't.”
Grillby hummed amusedly. “..You enjoy it, then?” Sans ate anything put in front of him. Grillby already knew the answer.
Sans set his fork beside his plate in mock outrage. “g, are you yolking? this omelet is amazing. out of this world. eggstraterrestrial. it surpassed all my eggspectations. really. you could say it was eggscellent.”
Grillby put his head in his hands.
“but, i don't wanna be eggstra, heh.”
Grillby groaned. “I should have…. just made you bacon.”
“i gotta lot of bacon puns too, but i’ll spare you. ya know i love grease, grillbz, but right now..” Sans made a face and laughed.
Grillby smiled. “That is why I did not make you bar food.”
“i woulda still eaten it if you did.”
“....I know.
-
Sans stood across from Grillby, in front of his apartment door. He shifted his weight awkwardly. It felt like neither of them really wanted to say goodbye quite yet. The air was figuratively stagnant.
“well, thanks for doin’ all this for me, grillbz. you really didn't have to.”
“Of course I did… It's… not a problem, but. You still must pay your...”
“i dunno how i'll ever repay you.” Sans’s face split into a shit-eating grin.
“...tab…” Grillby sighed good naturedly. “...You're sure you don't need a ride?”
“nah,” Sans put up his hand to dismiss it. “thanks g, but i can't ask for anything else. i know a shortcut, so don't worry about me.”
“But, you…”
“that omelet fixed me right up. i feel speggtacular.”
“That… was a stretch,” said Grillby, but he was laughing anyway.
“no, it was a pun.”
Grillby opened the door and gestured. “Get out.”
Sans laughed heartily as he stepped through the doorway, and Grillby found himself laughing as well. Sans turned when he'd reached the charred welcome mat and faced Grillby, who was still holding the door open.
“i should get back home to pap. he's probably worried,” said Sans, out of social necessity.
“Well…. He didn't seem worried.”
Sans chuckled. “yeah, i guess not.”
They stood and just looked at each other for a moment.
Grillby suddenly gathered himself and cleared his throat, which sounded a little like leaves sizzling on a fire.
“Even though you were horribly hungover… I enjoyed this morning. Usually… I eat breakfast alone. So.....feel free… to ‘drop’ by more often.”
Sans beamed proudly at the reuse of his pun. “you don't have to ask me twice, g! i mean, i already ‘fell’ for you.”
Grillby’s flames flickered for a moment in the silence that followed.
“oh, er. i didn't mean, heh. sorry.” Sans scratched his occipital bone.
“It's…. There are only so many puns…. you can make about.. falling off of a balcony.”
“yep, heh. i guess that's my fall….t.”
“That was horrendous.”
“you smiled.”
“No.” (He did).
Sans laughed. He was still lingering outside Grillby’s doorway, Grillby just inside. He recognized that they were both prolonging this, but the last thing he wanted was to stop it.
Grillby seemed to have suddenly remembered something important. “Oh…! Wait here.”
Sans stood at the doorway with his hands in his pockets. He had a second alone with his thoughts, but he found them a bit too tiresome, so he left them alone, and decided to think about what show to watch with Papyrus when he got home.
Grillby returned shortly with Sans’s phone in his hand. “You almost forgot this…” He handed it over.
“oh, thanks, grillbz! i’d seriously forget my own skull if it wasn't articulated to my atlas.”
“Of course.” Grillby paused for longer than usual. Sans stayed quiet, sensing he still had something to say. “...I know you have the bar’s number, but I entered my own in your phone. If you ever find yourself…. falling off any more balconies…. I would be happy to help.”
Sans looked down at his phone thoughtfully before he slipped it in his pocket with his hands. “thanks, g. i really mean it.”
Grillby nodded. He seemed tired from all the speaking he'd done.
“hey,” said Sans cheerfully, “i’ll see you at the bar tonight.”
“....That is brave of you.”
“i trust you won't serve me vodka, heh.”
“I will tell… my waiters to ignore any request you have… unless it is vodka.”
Sans laughed. “see ya, grillby.”
“..Goodbye, Sans.”
The air felt thinner for a split second, and then Sans was gone. Grillby hesitated at his doorway for a few more seconds before returning inside.
-
Sans re-coalesced in front of his and Papyrus’s front door. He was a little woozy from the travel and the hangover, but he took a second to shake it out of his skull before letting himself in.
Papyrus was curled up on the couch watching a National Geographic documentary about penguin migration. As soon as he heard the doorknob shift, he abandoned it and twisted in his seat to peer over the back of the couch at his brother as he entered.
“HELLO, BROTHER! WELCOME BACK!!!” Papyrus said enthusiastically. His voice was just loud enough to prod at Sans’s waning headache.
“hey, bro.”
“SO……”
“so……” Sans kicked off his slippers at the door and flopped on the couch beside Papyrus.
“HOW DID IT GO?!” asked Papyrus. He pulled the couch blanket up to his knees. His eyes tracked Sans, trying to pick up any sign of excitement or displeasure from his brother’s otherwise inexpressive face.
“papy,” said Sans with a laugh, “me and grillbz didn't hook up. i’d tell you if we did.” He avoided Papyrus’s gaze and watched the penguins.
“I AM NOT CONVINCED OF THAT.”
“yeah.. i wouldn't be, neither,” laughed Sans.
Papyrus looked at him sternly.
“ok. we didn't hook up. but.”
Papyrus’s face lit up. “BUT?!?”
“...i did get his number.”
“GASP!!”
He said gasp out loud.
“but it's not what ya think.” Sans feigned a yawn and shut his eye sockets. He cracked one open a bit to watch his brother’s reaction. “i’d tell you all about it, but i’m hungover and bone-tired. i think i’ll take a little siesta first.”
“SANS!!!!!”
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