Summary: It... worked? More or less.

Geno leaned back in one of the fluffy chairs resident in Reaper's living room and crossed his arms, eyelights fixed on the death god as he weaved pillows and blankets together for them to cuddle in.

They had been dating for roughly a few months. Or maybe longer. Time worked weirdly between AUs and endless pitch-black voids.

The bloody glitch still wasn't sure why he agreed to date the other but had to admit it was far better than sitting in the Save Screen alone with only Sans to talk to from time to time.

And Reaper certainly proved to be quite serious about their relationship, more so than anyone Geno had considered pursuing a romantic relationship with in his AU. Back when he was the only Sans of the AU and could interact with people rather than stalking them through his windows.

The god of death practically made it his life's mission to shower him in affection- whether it be via gifts, sneakily stolen kisses, hugs/cuddles, abrupt dancing (which Geno could begrudgingly admit was adorable), or amorous comments.

Perhaps it wouldn't be such a bad idea to flirt back for once? Give the raven-winged skeleton a sign Geno did not intend to lead him on or use him to escape his prison; Show the desire to form a deeper connection.

A bright red hue tinted his skull at the thought, and his weak sliver of soul fluttered anxiously.

A weaker monster might back down from such a harrowing - and deeply embarrassing - task. However, Geno was nothing if not determined.

Steeling his nerves, he pushed out of the chair, only briefly mourning the loss of its comfort, before making the dreadfully short walk to his boyfriend.

When Reaper noticed his approach, the death god turned to him and tipped his skull in question. Not unlike a bird.

Geno felt his cheeks grow hotter, no doubt burning bright with his embarrassment.

"I... uh-" He fumbled, then halted as an uncomfortable feeling began to grow in his chest.

His eye sockets widened as he promptly clenched his jaws shut; A horribly familiar pressure built in his ribcage, followed by an itch in his non-existent throat and a stinging of pain from the slash across his chest.

Dread washed over Geno's soul.

"Oh no" were the sole words he could think of as his boyfriend took him by the arms and pulled him close to stabilize his trembling legs.

"Dove? Are you alright?" Reaper asked, the worry on his face palpable.

The glitch wanted to answer and reassure the other.

Alas, no such option existed in the cards fate had dealt him.

Geno attempted to move back, but Reaper's feather-soft grip proved too strong for him to currently break away from. And, try as he might, he could not hold back the rising sensation in his chest for a second longer.

Lurching forward, the wounded Sans shook as violent wet coughs rattled his body.

Once the action subsided, his eyelights darted up to the raven-winged skeleton holding him.

The other stared at his cloak in awe.

A deep crimson liquid dripped down it, and small white glitches flickered on atop, sparkling like glitter.

"A treasure," Reaper whispered, enraptured by the flicking movement of his robe's new decoration.