wrong number | sans .

act iii | dating handbook pt ii

Chapter Summary: Continuation of on how to 'woo' the one you like!

Despite wishing you a merry good night, Sans laid awake in his makeshift bed while Papyrus slept and snored next to him. He stared at the fabric of the tent, his phone and dating handbook in both hands as he lightly gripped the book.

His anxiety buzzed like busy honey bees. He knew nothing about relationships and how to pursue them, going by the handbook seemed to work thus far, but what about after?

Looking through the darkness he lifted the book to socket level and reread the next step.

Rule 6: Shower your honey with gifts!

Resources to get a gift were scarce in the underground. It was either washed up and had heavy water damage or something someone found in the trash.

He checked his phone again, only five minutes since he last texted you but it felt like a millennium ago. His soul twisted at the thought before he gave up. Sans sighed deeply and slowly crawled out of the ten to avoid waking Papyrus.

The sky twinkled with stars, and the bright moon lightly illuminated through the darkness around him, the fire embers were soot and everything was still, with the exception of a distant noise from the nearby city.

His gaze went from the looming dark mountain, his thoughts running and running for an idea of a gift. Something you couldn't get on another regular day.

Sans let himself wander up the mountain, passing dogamy easily as leaves in the wind. Letting his instincts guide him through his mind block.

He found himself in front of the entrance to the throne room underground. His soul vibrated with anticipation as he passed where the barrier once stood, acting as bars to their entrapment. A shiver crawled his spine as he passed judgment hall, the light from yellow flowers dimly lit the room only casted a reminder of previous runs.

In a blink of an eye, Sans was in Snowdin. The familiar bite of crisp air soothing his anxiety while snow crunched underneath his shoes, glancing at the empty houses along the stretch, the snow melted around Grillby's bar - a moment passed and Sans made his way to the bar. Opening the door with a familiar, comforting chime.

Much to his surprise, the regular and new customers were filling the place. All celebrating the opening of the barrier and their newfound freedom. A couple of fellow monsters Sans once shared drinks with and cheered upon his arrival, raising their glasses filled with liquor.

"Sans! Oh my spirits! It has been awhile, sweetie." A bunny purred, nursing her drink while her friends continued their conversation. "Congratulations on moving topside!"

"back atcha." Sans smiled, making his way to the bar and sat on his seat. Glancing at the seat next to him — spirits it felt like a lifetime ago he was pulling pranks to save his boredom.

•What's your poison?• The familiar crackle of soft fire caught his attention. Looking up from the stool to the ever-living fire monster on the other side of the bar.

Grillby was a man of few words but Sans knew how to coax a conversation out of him, an easy feat to him. "yah know." He said with a knowing grin.

Despite the furrow above Grillby's spectacles, he reached under the counter and pulled out a ketchup bottle, easily sliding it over to Sans, much like how they did before the barrier shattering.

With a deep content sigh, he tilted his head back and took long, long sips from the nozzle.

Grillby picked up a glass from the wall behind him and a bottle of something and poured himself a large shot. Sans raised his browbone in question, something new was always a welcoming change. His silent friend raised the glass in his direction (to which he raised the ketchup bottle) then swung his fiery head back with the glass. The fire around Grillby's glasses morphed into a purple before settling back to his normal orange-yellow hue.