Written By: Zana B. Sparrows

Fanart By: (This is an actual WATERCOLOR PAINTING! I'm so impressed!)

Setting the Stage: So! This story takes place directly after the WTSM chapter "All's Well that Ends Well," as well as the oneshot that preceded this one. It's from Sans' perspective, so he wouldn't have known about the whole Chara arc. I won't say much about the story, because it'll be funnier if it comes as a surprise. ;-)

However... this is also gonna be an angsty one. You know me. I'm going to play with your heartstrings, as always.

~Lime rating: LIME BARS!~

~Also, fair warning: Mild language (And by "mild," I mean more than normal.)~

Sans' Perspective

She's late.

I'm pacing back and forth in my living room, worry slowly starting to gnaw at me. It's almost 4 pm—she should be here by now.

I stop in the dead center of the room and take a deep breath, trying to keep myself from panicking completely.

There's no reason for me to be worrying like this, I remind myself. It's not like it's a date or anything. We didn't even agree on a time—it was just one of those 'hey, you wanna come over?' types of things. And I guess it makes sense for a movie marathon to start later rather than sooner anyway. Yeah, you see? There's no reason to worry. 

...My little internal debate doesn't help much. In fact, if anything, it makes it worse. 'Cause if I'm going to start a debate with myself, I'm going to bring up all the counter arguments, too. That's just the kind of guy I am.

What if something happened that I don't know about? Flowey could've easily gotten to her again, and I wouldn't find out until (Y/N) causes a mini reset or whatever the hell that was—it was pure dumb luck that I was able to intervene that first time. If that grey thing hadn't tipped me off, I would've been blissfully unaware that the love of my life was dying out in the freezing cold... And even then, I wasn't able to save her. 

Or, even worse, she could be purposefully avoiding me. I mean, a lot of stuff happened at once yesterday, and I kinda ended up forcing her into a relationship. She... she never actually said that she wanted to be my girlfriend. I just kinda... went for it, and she followed my lead. And then, like an idiot, I stole a kiss. I mean, sure—she kissed me back, but—Ow. 

I slapped myself to keep myself from stressing any further. Have you ever tried hitting bone with bone? Well, it stings, and I instantly regret doing it... but it has the intended effect. I'm not freakin' out as much anymore.

"Okay," I breathe. "I'm going to stop bein' such an anxious mess, and I'm gonna sit here and wait like a normal person."

I sigh and cross over to the couch, beating down my unwarranted uncertainty as I collapse onto it.

"I'm just gonna sit here... relax... maybe take a nap. If she comes, she comes. If she doesn't, she doesn't. There's no use worrying," I tell myself. "Yup. I'm just gonna close my eyesockets... and try to make up for the sleep I didn't get last night."

I sink into the couch, allowing the worn out cushions to creep around me and suck me in. I sigh as I slowly start to relax, and my consciousness gradually begins to fade away...

Just then, the door bursts open, and an achingly familiar voice calls out my name.

"Sans!" (Y/N) calls. "I'm here—"

A tidal wave of relief rushes over me, and so the moment she opened the door, I unintentionally ended up teleporting to the space directly in front of her. She gasps and stumbles backwards, my sudden appearance startling her.

"Woah!" I exclaim. My hand shoots forward, and I manage to grab her by the wrist before she falls over completely. I pull her back upright, and then let go. She stands there for a moment with a blank look on her face, before coming back to herself and shaking her head.

"Really, Sans?" she asks, fighting back a smile. I give her a nervous smile and rub the back of my skull, my permanent smile stiffening into more of a grimace.

"Uh... heh. Sorry 'bout that," I mutter. "I didn't mean to scare 'ya."

"Hmm... let me guess—you weren't trying to scare me," she says, turning to shut the door behind her. "But you were trying to make me... jump out of my skin, right?"

"...What?"

"Oh, I'm on to you," she says, giving me a playfully suspicious look. "That was a setup for a pun—I know it was. But I beat you to it! So HA!"

"A pun? What... oh. Oh! Yeah. Totally. That was all totally intentional. Yup," I say, following her as she walks into the living room. "It's... uh... not like I've been waiting for you for hours, or anything like that."

"You've been waiting on me for hours?!" she exclaims suddenly, spinning around to face me. 

"Oh geez, I'm so sorry! We never agreed on a time, and so I thought that—and I had a really rough night last night, so I didn't wake up until like one this afternoon, and—"

"It's fine!" I exclaim, talking over her. "Really! We didn't agree on a time, so it's not like you're late; I guess I was just, I dunno... really looking forward to... seeing you?"

(Y/N) blinks rapidly, a tiny bit of pink making its way into her face. Oh geez. She's so cute. The fact that she's blushing is making me blush. The two of us lapse into an awkward silence as we do nothing but stand in the center of my living room, staring at each other. Then she shakes her head and clears her throat, her blush deepening as she realizes that she'd been staring at me.

"So... uh... should we pick out a movie or something?" she asks.

"Yeah," I agree, pouncing on the change of subject. "I was thinking we could start with something sci-fi. What d'you think?"

"What do you mean start with sci-fi?" she jokes. "That's all you own. It's going to be all sci-fi, all night."

"You know me so well," I say, cracking a smile. "But hey, we can always choose between sub-genres."

I walk over to the cabinet where we keep our DVDs, (Y/N) on my heels.

"Alright, so—should it be more of a futuristic, spacey sci-fi, or more of a physiological thriller?" I ask, sitting next to the cabinet and glancing over my shoulder at her.

"Oh my gosh, Sans. Do you even need to ask?" she asks.

"Thriller it is, then," I say, chuckling under my breath. "Let's see... we have 'Knowing,' 'Godsend,' and... that's it. You know, one of these days, I'm going to have to bring you to the dump. We need a bigger selection of movies in this household."

"That, I can agree with," she says. "I need to introduce you to a friend I like to call... romantic comedy."

"Oh no—anything but that," I groan, grinning. She giggles at my tone and reaches over my shoulder, picking the movie 'Godsend' off of the shelf.

When she does so, though... her chest ends up right next to face. My face heats up faster than a stove under the influence of fire magic, and while I'm silently cursing my decision to crouch next to the lowest shelf, I can't force myself to look away. I sigh quietly in relief as she straightens again, and I find myself running a hand down my face in embarrassment as my brain inevitably starts diving into the more perverted side of my subconscious.

For the love of... why?! I scold myself. Quit that!

"Have you ever seen 'Godsend,' Sans?" she asks. "It's pretty good."

"W-what? Oh, yeah. It's that one about the couple that cloned their dead son, right?" I say quickly, trying my best to act natural. "It's not bad. I tried watching it with Paps once, but it was too scary for him."

"What? But it's just a thriller—it's not even that scary," she comments, heading over to the TV.

"Have you met my bro?" I ask, leaning back onto my hands. "He wouldn't be able to handle a simple jump scare."

"True, true," she says, turning the TV on. "What's Papyrus up to, anyway?"

"Oh, you know," I say nonchalantly. "Patrolling, talking to citizens, watering the king's flowers... his usual royal guard stuff."

"Hmm," she hums thoughtfully. "And when was the last time you manned your hot dog stand, 

huh? Or should I say your hot cat stand?"

I chuckle quietly at her inside joke. There was this one time that her sister dragged her all the way to Hotlands to buy hot cats from me. She'd almost had a conniption fit trying to figure out how I managed to give them faces.

"I haven't for a while," I say, shrugging. "I guess I've been too busy hangin' out with my new home dawg."

(Y/N) flinches and groans, though she still has her inevitable grin on her face.

"Oh my god, Sans. That was awful."

"You've gotta be kitten me. That pun was claw-some."

"Sans!"

"Ruff crowd, huh?"

"Sans, you're killing me."

"Alright, alright. Quit giving me the death stare. I'll stop," I say, trying to fight back laughter. 

"You're just as bad as Paps—you've got no sense of humor."

"I do to have a sense of humor!" she exclaims, grabbing the remote and throwing herself onto the couch. "I just like more... I dunno... clever jokes, I guess."

"Hmm... I've got just the thing," I say, grinning as I take a seat next to her.

"That wasn't an invitation!"

"Too bad."

She huffs and looks away, trying to hide her smile.

"Are you made of copper and tellurium?" I ask. She chuckles under her breath, and rests her head on her hand.

"Oh geez—not this one. Alright, fine. No, why?"

"Because you're CuTe."

"Oh my god, Sans," she says, losing her fight with her bubbling laughter.

"Well, is that more to your liking, Buttercup? I've got a ton more where that came from."

"Oh no—"

"A skele-ton."

"Saaaaans!"

"You know, I love it when you say my name like that," I say. "It means I'm succeeding."

"Succeeding at what, exactly?" she asks, giving me a knowing smile.

"Teasing you."

She rolls her eyes and scoots closer to me, leaning on my shoulder as the movie starts. I... I'm not sure if I can handle this. This is just too... too good. My old insecurities are pounding away at the locked door in the back of my head, and it takes all of my concentration to keep from breaking down again like I had earlier.

"Hey... I was meaning to ask you," I say cautiously. "About yesterday..."

I trail off, trying to find the right words.

"Let me guess," she says, her tone light, "you're going to ask whether or not we're actually dating?"

"...Are you a mind reader?" I ask, only a little bit surprised that she knew where I was going.

"No, but I'm a Sans reader," she says jokingly. "And yes, Sans. We're dating. And I'm fine with it. And we're going to be okay. And there's no need for you to worry about it. Okay?"

"...Okay."

"You don't sound so sure about that," she notes.

"Well... you know how I am."

"I know," she agrees. She shifts slightly, and then I'm surprised by a sudden kiss on the forehead. 

"I'm just going to have to keep reminding you that I love you until you believe it."

My face turns from white to blue as if she's flipped some kind of light switch, and I can already feel my soul thudding against my ribcage for like the gazillionth time in the last twenty four hours. Instead of my normal nervous embarrassment, though... I somehow end up feeling emboldened by it.

"...I don't think I've been reminded enough," I say coyly, looking away.

"Oh really?" she asks, a hint of amusement entering her voice. "I guess I need to fix that, huh?"

She leans over a little and gently kisses my cheek. The contact gives me a feeling of pins and needles all the way down my spine, and leaves me craving more. I make a negative humming sound, and continue to look pointedly in the other direction. I'm trying my best to act aloof, but I'm pretty sure my blueberry cheeks are giving me away.

"What, that's not enough?" she asks cheekily. I don't say anything. I'm too busy trying to keep myself from smiling.

I shiver as she runs her hand along my jawline, gently turning my head to force me to look at her. She leans forward, and I close my eyesockets, thinking that she's going to kiss me full on the teeth... but instead, she changes course at the last minute, and kisses me on the bridge of my nose cavity. It surprises me enough that my eyesockets shoot open, and I flinch away from her. She giggles, and leans back.

"Well, I got a reaction out of you, so I guess that means I'm done," she says, smiling as she picks up the remote. "Let's see... we completely missed the opening. I need to rewind now."

"What? No!"

"No what?" she asks, smiling as she gives me the most innocent look she can muster.

"We're not done."

"Aren't we?" she asks, cocking her head to the side. I don't know if it's intentional... but she's extremely seductive when she does that—that little head-turn thing of hers. When she sees my look of desire, she shifts forward slightly, a grin slowly blossoming on her face. Oh yeah. Yup. That smile says it all. She's doing this on purpose. She's toying with me—her way of getting me back for the puns.

"Nope," I say evenly, unwilling to let her get away with it. "We're not done."

She doesn't answer. She just continues to smile at me for a moment, before humming and turning to look at the TV again.

"Did I say that this movie's really good?" she asks nonchalantly. "'Cause it's really—"

"Hey, Buttercup," I say. She turns to look at me, an eyebrow already making its way up her face.

"Wha—"

I quickly lean forward and touch my teeth to her lips, silencing her. She makes a pleased sound when I do, and I can feel the vibrations of it travel up my teeth and around my skull. Her lips feel really soft against my teeth, and even though it feels kind of weird... it's a good kind of weird. However, my embarrassment soon gets the better of me, and I pull away sooner than I... well, then I really wanted to.

Her face is bright red when I pull away, and she has a kind of surprised grin on her face. She stares at me for a moment, her eyes carefully scanning every inch of my face. I think she can tell that I wanted to kiss her for longer, because she leans forward again, and kisses me back. I sigh quietly and let her, my eyesockets sliding shut. The next thing I know, her arms wrap around my back, pulling me closer. My ever-present jacket unintentionally hikes up just a little bit as I return her gesture, hugging her close to me. Only a tiny bit of my hyper-sensitive spine is exposed, but it's just enough that the skin of (Y/N)'s arm brushes against it.

I gasp reflexively and pull back, a wave of pleasure making every single bone in my body feel as though it's slowly catching on fire. (Y/N) is staring at me with open curiosity, her brow furrowed.

"Uh..." she murmurs. "Did I... um... do something?"

"Kinda," I rasp, pulling my jacket back down. "But it was mostly my fault."

"No, no... I got that, but, uh... what did I do, exactly?" she asks, her face turning red.

"What?"

"Um... Well... I've kinda been meaning to ask this, because I've been curious for a while, but... it's kind of an awkward question, I guess?" she rambles. "So, um... how would... you know... that... work with a skeleton?"

I thought that I was blushing before, but... being asked that kind of question, point blank? Hoooly cow. I could probably unscrew my head and use it as an LCD light bulb.

"N-not that I want to do that!" she exclaims, throwing her hands up. "Not yet! We're not there yet—I mean—we've only been dating for a day! It's not as if I—oh geez, this is all coming out wrong."

"Uh..."

"I mean, I just want to know! For future reference! And also personal curiosity—but mostly just because I have a skeleton for a boyfriend, and we're probably—I mean maybe—I mean, I assume you would want to—"

"Uuuuhhhh..."

"Oh my god, this is awful," she mutters, covering her face with a hand. "I-I... I just... just answer me this: do skeletons have... y'know..."

My metaphorical brain has officially left the building. I knew that this would inevitably come up, and I actually had this whole spiel planned out to explain it to her... but now that the question's actually come up, I'm forced to realize just how utterly unprepared I am to actually discuss it.
We lapse into an awkward silence, each of us staring at the other... but not actually looking at the other person. My mind has gone dead silent, and (Y/N) is cringing so hard that I can almost hear her internal voice scolding herself. Then she takes a deep breath, lets it out again, and grabs the nearest pillow. She promptly puts it on her knees and buries her face in it, her mortification so strong that I can practically taste it.

"U-uh," I mutter, continuing to sound completely dumbstruck. "I... uh... well..."

I make a hissing sound as I take a deep breath, my cheekbones continuing to burn as I try and retrieve my brain from the depths of outer space.

"Skeletons... we... I... um..."

(Y/N) peeks up from her pillow, her (e/c) eyes somehow managing to ooze both complete embarrassment and barely restrained curiosity simultaneously.

"Well... we can... our souls are... malleable, I guess? Monsters usually... um... recreate... with our souls, but..." I mutter incoherently. "Heh. Um... I have no idea how I explain this to you. I mean... I know how humans... do it from movies and the stuff I find in the dump, but... I-uh... Well..."

I laugh nervously and pull at my jacket, my face somehow managing to heat up even further.

"I-is it hot in here, or is it just me?" I ask, pulling at the neck of my T-shirt.

My discomfort seems to make (Y/N) a little bit more comfortable, because she manages to laugh a little bit, and slowly sits back up.

"Look, uh... okay. Um... we monsters... reproduce using our souls," I say, squirming under her gaze. "You remember that one time that you accidentally—Oh! Uh... never mind about that. Forget I said that. That was a stupid thing to bring up."

I cough awkwardly, and shrug my jacket off of my shoulders. I'm literally roasting right now. Like seriously. I feel like I'm finally starting to understand how it feels to be Grillby.

"So, um... basically, monsters touch their souls together, and one of them gets pregnant. But... not in the same way that a human gets pregnant. It's like... soul pregnancy? Does that make sense?"

"Kind of," she says.

"I mean... it's a lot more complicated than that, but... uh... that's the basics of it," I say, looking away. "And as for me, specifically... well... um... as you have probably guessed, I don't have... Oh, what the hell. Why is it so hard to just say it? I don't have a dick. I'm a skeleton."

She stares at me for a moment, before laughing quietly.

"What?" I ask, a little bit confused by her reaction. I was expecting... I don't know. Disappointment? I basically just told her that I'm incapable of pleasuring her. (Even though that's not necessarily true—I have more to explain.)

"I figured," she says, shyly looking away. "You're flat as an ironing board."

"...You've actually looked?"

She goes completely rigid, her face going beet red.

"No! I mean... I might have... casually... looked—glanced in that direction," she mumbles. "But that's all!"

"You know... somehow, I'm both flattered and insulted by that statement," I joke. Seeing her so embarrassed is somehow managing to make me feel better about talking about this. She makes a strangled croaking sound, but then clears her throat, and tries to regain her composure.

"So... you don't have a... yeah. You don't have one. I figured that," she says. "But uh... isn't there some kind of... I dunno... magical work around? If you can have a tongue, couldn't you..."

"How much have you thought about this?" I wonder aloud, raising a bone-brow. She gives me this look... like that was the one question I wasn't supposed to ask her. She stays completely silent, and acts as if she didn't even hear me ask. I chuckle, leaning back against the arm of the sofa. "Yes, there's a work-around. Magic is a beautiful thing."

"Okay! That's all I wanted to know," she squeaks. "I'm just gonna... go and hide in the corner of shame now."

She gets up from the couch in one fluid movement, and with almost robotic stiffness, starts to head towards the front door. Before she can, though, I catch her by her wrist.

"Hey, where're you going?" I ask.

"Nowhere. Somewhere. Away from here. Probably to go and fall into a snowdrift again."

...Again?

I push the thought aside, and instead pull her back towards me.

"Oh, we can't have that," I say, feeling unusually confident. "Don't you want to hear more about what my amazing skeleton-magic can do?"

"N-no?"

I chuckle and pull her back onto the couch, where she's giving me an uncertain look that is absolutely adorable.

"So... basically, I can use magic to change my soul's shape for a short amount of time—so, I can make myself a dick," I say. I grin at her as even her ears start to turn red. I think I can hear the sound of a kettle in the distance... oh wait. That's her face.

"G-good to know," she murmurs.

"And... theoretically speaking, I can both make it any size... and you won't get pregnant, because your physical body and your soul have absolutely no correlation to each other," I tell her. The redness in her face is slowly creeping down her neck, and she makes a strangled croaking sound. "So when we eventually do get to that point... I'll probably be the best partner you've ever had."

"I... uh..." she murmurs. "I've never actually... had a partner before, if you know what I mean."

...What? There's no way.

I must look every bit as shocked as I feel, because (Y/N) nervously presses her thumbs and fingers together, an apprehensive look on her face.

"Boys weren't exactly something I saw everyday on Mt. Ebott," she explains. "So... um... all of this is new to me. You were... uh... actually my first kiss."

My hands drop limply to my sides, and I give her a blank stare. (Y/N)... the talented, smart, beautiful, and empathetic (Y/N)... has never dated anyone before?

"...What?" I ask. My dazed voice exactly mirroring my shock.

"Y-yeah. When you kissed me yesterday, that was the first time I'd ever kissed someone."

"No," I say. "No way. You? You've never dated anyone before? You?! But you're so... you're so... oh geez. I... I stole your first kiss."

And in was in that moment... that I realized... that I had fucked up. I had stolen her first kiss. I hadn't even asked first. I'd literally just run up and... took it from her. The brightness of the room fades a little bit as my eyesockets go dark, and the sad music of the movie in the background is only serving to make me feel even worse.

"Oh god... I'm a total douche. I stole your first kiss."

"Sans!" she exclaims, concern briefly flashing across her face. "Don't you dare start feeling bad about that kiss."

"But—"

"I wanted that, okay? I wanted you to kiss me. Sure, maybe it was a little bit sudden, but I couldn't have asked for a better first kiss! I love you, and there's absolutely no one that I'd have rather have given my first to."

"But... I'm just..."

"No buts!" she says adamantly, a determined look on her face. "I love you, and I wanted you to kiss me. End of story."

And, just as I'm about to continue protesting, she kisses me again. This time... she's more forceful when she does it, as if this whole conversation has abated some of the new-couple caution that had been in the air. Her lips are pressed firmly to my teeth, but not so hard that they hurt. It really turns me on, and I can feel my soul kicking it up a notch in my ribcage.

That's when it finally hits me—this is really happening. This isn't just some kind of fluke, or some kind of dream that's going to end when I wake up. (Y/N) is really in love with me, and she's trying her absolute hardest to make me see that. So... for once in my life, I let myself throw caution to the wind, and return her kiss whole-heartedly.

I push hard against her, harder even than she is against me. I'm not reining myself in, and so when I accidentally push her over... I don't move to correct her position. I follow her, hardly stopping to register that I'm now laying flush against her. I continue to press against her, silently asking for permission to give her tongue. She tenses underneath me, but just as quickly relaxes. I need this. I really, really need this. I hadn't realized it until now... but the truth of the matter is that I'm emotionally starving.

Sure, I'd had my flings throughout the years (it was one of the only things that those damn resets had been good for), but I had never let anyone get close to what I can only call the "real" me. It was too daunting. Who in their right mind would want to be with me after learning about all of the ridiculous baggage that I carry around with me? But she... (Y/N)... she learned who I was right off of the bat. She'd met me at what I can safely say was my lowest point, and yet she still cares about me. She wants me, and not just so she can jump my bones. This physical stuff... this is just the latest rung in a ladder that's over a month in the making.

The way I'm feeling right now... I've never felt this way before.

(Y/N) sighs beneath me and parts her lips ever so slightly, allowing my tongue to explore her mouth. Damn. She's so... soft. And sweet—like she ate sugar for lunch. She moans quietly, as though she had been trying to suppress it. I guess this feels as good to her as it does to me. The sound of it encourages me to keep going, and I allow my tongue to brush ever so slightly against hers...

Suddenly, the door bursts open.

"SANS! SANS!! WE HAVE AN EMERGENCY! I WENT TO THE STORE, AND THEY WERE COMPLETELY OUT OF SPAGHETTI... SANS? I SWEAR HE WAS JUST HERE—WHERE DID HE GO?"

(Y/N) makes a muffled squeak as I fall on top of her, me having teleported us to the top of the stairs. I quickly get off of her and furiously wipe at my teeth, trying to get rid of any trace that we were kissing—not to mention French kissing. (Whatever "French" is.) My bro... well, I'm not entirely sure he's ready to learn about the more... pleasurable side of reproduction. (As far as he's concerned, souls = kids. And really, that's all he needs to know.)

(Y/N) is giving me this amused look, but she follows my lead and wipes away at her mouth with the back of one hand. There's no way we're going to be able to get rid of the coloring in our cheeks... but with any luck, Paps won't notice.

I make sure that I have a regular old smile on my face instead of the dazed look of euphoria that I can feel bubbling under the surface, and then start down the stairs. (Y/N) follows soon after, the sound of her footsteps perfectly echoing mine.

"Sup, bro?" I ask causally. "Sup, kiddo?"

Not only is Paps here, but the kid's with him. That's just great. I dunno how much the kid knows about adulthood, but I'm guessing it's more than Paps. And I get the feeling that I'm right. She takes one look at her sister and then grins like a lunatic, her shoulders shaking as represses her giggles.

"LIKE I WAS SAYING—THE STORE IS COMPLETELY OUT OF SPAGHETTI! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?! AND NOT ONLY IS THE STORE OUT OF SPAGHETTI... BUT WE ARE OUT, AS WELL! THIS IS A COMPLETE CRISIS!" he exclaims, eyesockets closed and foot stomping in a classic Paps rant. "I DON'T KNOW WHAT WE'RE GOING TO DO FOR DINNER TONIGHT, BUT APPARENTLY PASTA ISN'T GOING TO BE A PART OF IT! I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO. THIS IS GOING TO BE A DISASTER."

"Papyrus, there's more types of pasta then just spaghetti," (Y/N) says, her voice interwoven with amusement. "And not every meal needs pasta to work. You know what? I'll cook tonight. I stocked your fridge the other day—I've got everything I need for an old family favorite."

Frisk gasps, and her eyes practically sparkle as she turns to her older sister.

"Squash?!" she exclaims. "Please tell me it's squash! I'm starving! I was out playing with Monster Kid all day, and it's too long of a walk back to Goat Mom's..."

"You know me too well, huh?" (Y/N) replies, being careful not to look at me as she crosses over to the kitchen. "What do you think, Papyrus? Can I borrow your kitchen for tonight?"

"HMM... I DON'T KNOW. THIS SOUNDS RATHER... EXOTIC."

"Exotic, huh? Well, I guess you could say that," she notes. "After all... this is a super special surface recipe, right Frisk?"

"MmmHmm!"

"WELL... IT WOULD BE RATHER INTERESTING TO SEE YOU PREPARE A HUMAN DISH..."

"It has pasta in it," she baits. "Not spaghetti... but still pasta."

"ALRIGHT THEN! I, MASTER CHEF PAPYRUS, WILL ASSIST YOU IN MAKING THIS SPECIAL HUMAN PASTA!"

My bro turns to me, excitement plastered all over his face.

"AFTER ALL, WHAT BETTER WAY IS THERE TO GROW CLOSER TOGETHER WITH MY BROTHER'S NEW GIRLFRIEND THAN THROUGH COOKING?!" he exclaims. "THIS WILL BE GREAT! YOU SHOULD REALLY CONSIDER COOKING WITH (Y/N), SANS—I'M SURE IT WOULD BE..."

Paps trails off, and fixes me with a more serious look than I've ever seen him wear before. He's not looking me in the eye, though... instead he seems to be focusing on... my chest?

"Sans," he mutters quietly. He glances over his shoulder at the kitchen, and is making a remarkably small amount of sound as he crosses the room. When he reaches me, he gently spins me around, and nudges me towards the stairs.

"Wha—bro? What's going on?"

He makes a kind of uncomfortable sound, and then sighs.

"Sans, your soul is showing."

My neck cracks with the speed that I look down at myself. Sure enough, there's a glowing silhouette of an upside-down, royal blue heart to the left side of my white T-shirt. I stare at it for a few moments and watch as it pulsates, its light flickering at an unusually quick pace compared to what I'm used to.

Shit.

"Th-thanks bro," I stammer. I've never been more embarrassed in my life. I know it was getting intense with (Y/N) for a minute there... but enough to manifest my soul? I need to be more careful. No more... whatever that desperate mess was.

"You go take care of that," Paps mutters. "I'll keep them busy."

"Thanks bro," I repeat, my face burning. "I'll uh... be back in a sec."

"Take your time," he sighs. "Really Sans. You need to be more careful. What if she saw?"

My thoughts exactly. The moment she saw my soul... everything would be over between us.
There aren't really any words that I can say right now that won't give away my completely and utter mortification, so I just nod, and start to trudge up the stairs, taking the walk of shame. From the corner of my eye, I see Paps shake his head, and then turn around.

"HUMANS! ARE YOU STILL IN NEED OF MY ASSISTANCE?"

The answering call—(Y/N)'s answering call—makes my soul shudder from its barely contained position in my rib cage, and the aching feeling of longing that comes with it is more than enough to make me rush up the rest of the stairs and to my room. I shut the door behind me and lock it, before wading through a sea of discarded clothes and ketchup bottles to collapse on my bed. And not a moment too soon.

My soul forces its way out of my ribcage and floats anxiously above my chest, jerking ever so slightly as it tries to find its way to that oh-so-tempting soul of hers. I've always been aware of it. Souls give off a... a kind of vibration that monsters can sense. I can tell when she's nearby, even if it's only subconsciously. Like when you know that someone's looking at you without seeing them actually do it—it's a kind of awareness that surpasses the five physical senses. Now, though, me being so utterly aroused as I am... I can actually feel it. The call of her soul. And it's so... wow. It's a good thing she's not nearby. If she were, I have no doubt that I wouldn't be able to control myself.

I sigh and stare down at my soul, the sight of it, like always, managing to depress me. My soul is just so fucking pathetic, especially compared to hers. Royal blue—judgmental. Never a good trait. It makes me too quick to jump the gun when it comes to... well... judging people, and once I've made a decision, I can be stubborn as a mule when asked to change it. My soul's small, too; about the same size as Frisk's. Man, that's just great. My soul is the same size as a child's. It apparently didn't get the memo that it's supposed to grow... monsters tend to get kinder as they get older. I guess I'm an exception. And as if that wasn't enough, it's dim. I could barely read a book in the light of this thing. Dim, like the embers of a fire. Dim—hopeless. Though I suppose it's gotten a little bit brighter in the last few weeks. ...I can't really tell. If it has, it's such a small difference that it's barely noticeable.

But all of that... at least all of that is somewhat natural. Heh. I may be insecure about it, but at least I can write it off—delude myself. All souls vary in size, shape, color, and brightness. I can explain that away as just being my lot in life—I just got the short end of the stick. Nah. It's the scars that I'm most worried about. Anyone—even if they're a human with little-to-no knowledge of souls—can look at those and immediately tell that something's wrong. A maze of miniscule cracks crisscross my soul, forming a spider-web of light blue crevices. They aren't deep enough to make me start losing base, but I can still see hints of bronze here and there. No... most of them aren't too deep. But even so, I'm not any further from the edge. There's just... so many of them. If just one of them gets any deeper... if just one of them goes... it may cause my entire soul to shatter.

Just another, more personal testament of how fucked up I am. Who would ever fall in love with this? This... this broken mess of a soul that's barely keeping its shit together? If she knew, she'd dump me in a heartbeat. That thought... it hurts. It really does. Because it's true. Who would want this? Who would want to spend their lives holding this fragile mess together? Not me. It's my soul—it's literally me—and not even I can stand living with it. I can already see it now. She'd see it... and then the pity would enter those beautiful eyes of hers... and then she'd find some excuse to leave. Something lame like "I'm just not ready for a relationship right now" or "it's not you, it's me." I grit my teeth, waves of self-hate flowing over me in quick succession.

...I'm pathetic.

...I'm useless.

...I don't deserve her.

...I could've stopped it.

...It didn't have to be this way.

...I made myself this way.

...I'm just a burden.

...Why am I even still here?

She loves me.

...But she hasn't really seen me, has she?

She knows I'm messed up.

...But she's never seen my soul.

Shut up.

...You're just afraid to admit the truth.

No, I'm not!

...You know that if you showed her, that would be the end of it.

That's not true.

...Then why haven't you done it? You've seen hers. It's only fair that you let her see yours.

...

...That's right. You've put it off. And why have you put it off? Because you know it would go badly.

Shut... UP!

A wave of pain racks me, and I just watch, numb and emotionless, as one of the cracks on my soul widens. A single, solitary bead of bronze lazily makes its way to the surface of my soul, where it stops moving, physics thankfully allowing for its surface tension to hold it tenuously in place.

My hand shakes as I reach out and carefully wipe the droplet away, its removal causing an intense moment of dizziness. It has the intended effect, though. The crack is still there, but it's still not wide enough to allow any more of the base to seep through it.

With all of my emotion completely wiped out, I collapse back on my pillows and close my eyesockets, content to wait out this stupid spell of arousal. My soul will just have to sit there until it burns itself out, and eventually returns to me. God, I could really use a Sans' special right around now.

Well... maybe it's not all that bad, I think, the soft vibrations of three other souls echoing throughout the house. One of them stands out above the rest, its soft and melodic soulwaves both familiar and comforting.

At least I can hear her like this.