Fairytale Complex - [Sans x Reader]

Chapter Twenty Two | Another Medium (Part 5 of 5 | His POV)

"Are you okay?"

It feels like a crime to break eye contact with how deep their stare is and how strong their grip on his hand becomes.

"Why the question?"

Their eyebrows furrow and a hint of a frown reveals itself on their lips.

"Well, you hugged me with a strength that could leave Superman wincing, and now..." They let go. "Now you're looking all grey and gloomy."

Sans feels conflicted for choking up at such a simple comment. The edges of his eye sockets immediately water, and a growing tightness takes no time to form on his rib cage. Though he hadn't addressed it before, he notices how cold his hands are when compared to almost everything else around him, be it his partner, the bench he's sitting at, or even his clothing. A tear makes its way down his skull, one his company cleans up through a peck. "You never told me you felt, well... down? Depressed? Do you still feel like that, or did I understand you wrong?"

"...Yeah. You're not mistaken." He rests his head on their shoulder and looks up at them. "I take it Frisk told you about that?"

"No." Their hair tickles his face as they shake their head. "They haven't said anything too personal about you, but I haven't forgotten about that day we spent together on the couch. You broke up crying, and you never seemed to look back at it." They pause to squeeze his hand, then rub his knuckles with their thumb. "It just... It just makes me think you're hiding something."

"How come you still remember that?"

"What kind of question is that? I care about you, duh."

They're more than direct with their way of comforting him, as with each quiet tear he sheds, they approach him with a kiss or with the graze of their fingers across his skull.

"I guess I never gave it too much thought after that day."

"You're lying." With their hand, they cup his chin, bring him closer to make him meet directly with their eyes, and let their frown show again. "I doubt you'd forget something like that. If you had, then I don't think you'd be shedding tears like this." More persuasive than he cares to admit, they let go of his face and use his ever-growing feelings against him by locking their arms firmly but gently around his neck. "So, could you tell me more about this, please?"

He tries to stand his ground and dodge their questions by avoiding their gaze.

"And what about that reaction you had to thunder a few times before? Does that all mean nothing anymore? That I've seen it happen, and that it's affected you? The last time I saw that, you were shaking a lot, and... And you were sweating just as much, too. You tell me to take care of myself more, yet you don't apply that advice for yourself."

"You're the one who's in danger, though."

"But that doesn't mean your problems are any less important."

They stand up from the bench and offer to pull him up.

"If you care about me, why can't I do the same? I want you to be happy, too, and I-"

He grabs their arm and -- rather than allowing them to tug him up -- he tugs them right back down instead.

"Stop."

"Stop what?"

"Saying things like that." Though he'd already done that outside the office, he hugs them a second time to avoid meeting their face. "It makes my soul burn."

A hug turns into a kiss on the cheek, and a kiss on the cheek turns into him kissing their neck, then their lips. Sans carries on that way until he has them caught in his hold, once more reminding himself of that day at their couch. He corners them on the bench, with a hand placed on their lower waist and the other underneath their shirt, brushing against their navel, and gradually going upwards until he almost reaches their chest. Returning their words through touch is the single thing he can think of as the rain falls harder, drowning out the booming noise of his soul racing, of their heart beating, and of their exhausted breaths when he kisses them for too long. Thankful thunder isn't present to ruin his day, he continues, though they don't allow him to go further than a chaste kiss to their lips. They push him away and fix their shirt after that, wrinkled as an aftermath of his actions.