Classic Fontcest {scenarios}

Scene 4 {Fluff}

Warnings:
Tooth rotting fluff and cheesy material.
Sans works at the lab.

Prompt:
"Sans has a bad day."

———

"SANS! THANK ASGORE'S THRONE YOU'RE HOME! I WAS BEGINNING TO WORRY AND-"

"Stars, Pap. Sorry. Not right now." Sans has rushed into the house, carrying a bunch of blue prints and other things that Papyrus slightly despised; but only for the fact that every time Sans had those things, his anxiety and stress seemed to sky rocket a significant amount. Papyrus watched Sans with a concerned frown on his face, but the other didn't seem to notice. He instead tossed the prints on the kitchen table, his grin looking tired.
He had some dark circles around his sockets, and He knew that he had stayed up late despite Papyrus warning him of health implications due to the lack of sleep.
Sans was stubborn, often ignoring Papyrus' advice (which consists of him to stop eating cup of noodles three weeks in a row.).
Sans proceeded to take out a pen from his dirty lab coat which was partially covered in grime, soot, and some other blue and pink tints as he scribbled all over the blue prints with red ink. He seemed to be busy, but Papyrus continued to watch him, slightly hoping he would put the pen down and maybe spend at least an hour with Papyrus. Not to get him wrong, he doesn't mind Sans spending all his time away from Papyrus. It was fine with him, since he wants to give Sans freedom. He doesn't want to pin him down just because they're already in a relationship. It's just the fact that he was incredibly worried for Sans, going back and forth at the lab like that, wasting his energy channeling his magic to teleport again and again.
———

Thirty minutes have passed, and Papyrus only realized this when his bones started to ache from absentmindedly watching Sans from the staircase. He had been daydreaming, he supposed, eyes wandering towards Sans' small, hunched down figure in the dining room, and from the looks of it, he was half asleep doing his work with his movements slowing down.
Sighing, Papyrus made his way to Sans, putting a hand on his back. A tired huff came from him, not even moving slightly when Papyrus put his hands on his brother. His aura was practically radiating with anxiety, the paperwork crumpled up around him didn't make him feel any better.
Sans looked horrible at least, and no, Papyrus wasn't talking about his looks in general. It's just how sick he looked with a blush flush on his skull and stressed expression even when he was passed out.
Papyrus pursed his lips and pressed them together as he carried Sans in his arms, the feeling of exhaustion spreading through Papyrus too, and the added weight on his shoulders from Sans made his try and hurry up to his bedroom, open the door, and collapse on the bed with his brother in his arms.
———

"Mnh... Pap..??" Papyrus opened an eye socket, blinking from the light. Has he fallen asleep by accident? That was probably the answer since it was already dark outside his window. And from the looks of it, Sans has woken up earlier than him which was surprising, to the the least. Papyrus looked at the curled up ball in his arms, a cute, slightly tired grin met him. Papyrus' heart fluttered a bit.
(Even if they see each other every day, the other can't seem to get enough of him, and it's always like they first met all over again.)
"How're you feeling?" Papyrus yawned, using his indoor voice for once as he comfortingly rubbed Sans' spine, feeling a slight bit content with this lazy behavior. Just laying in the bed, with his love. Papyrus was extremely energetic, but sometimes he needed a recharge too.
"I'm okay, Pap. I.. Thanks for carrying me here." Sans buries his face in his chest, and Papyrus savored how he looked cute and small compared to himself; tall and big boned. After a few silent minutes of just them laying on Papyrus' bed (they decided to change the race car bed to a proper "human" type one which consisted of the bland color of white.), Sans' phone rang. Papyrus felt his soul skip a bit, wondering his Sans was going to take the call. Work was always on demand, which made Sans completely exhausted at the end of the day, his sleep cycle irregular.
But instead of picking up the call, Sans just ignored the buzzing and his ridiculous ringtone; the opening theme of "Mew Mew Kissy Cutie", or as Papyrus would call it; "a complete waste of valuable time". He snorted slightly, grateful that Sans wasn't answering the call. Serves his boss right; he supposed. Overworking Sans like that to the point he passed out at least three times this week from a total magic drain. As he shut his eyes, he kept petting Sans' head, grinning. It was peaceful, to say at least.

———

"SANS! YOU'RE HOME! DO YOU NEED HELP ON YOUR PROJECT-?" "Nah."
It was Monday all over again, and Sans has gone to work and actually came home pretty early. He looked better; to say at least. Decent, even except for his dirty and overused lab coat and soiled black untied shoes. The bags under his eyes were light now, and he seemed to glow with actual radiance, and it made Papyrus all fuzzy inside. Sans slipped off his shoes, tossing his lab coat away as he went over to Papyrus, standing on his toes to give a peck on the cheekbone. He grinned, popping his bones. "What's for lunch?," Sans asked, sitting down on a chair in the kitchen, the usual smell of spaghetti lingering in his nasal cavity. "Spaghetti huh?" Papyrus nodded, humming. "I THOUGHT I'D COOK YOU A QUICK MEAL SO YOU COULD GO AND TAKE A NAP EARLY. YOU KNOW, TO TAKE OVER YOUR GRAVEYARD SHIFT." Papyrus looked over at the cooling bowl of spaghetti with the perfect sauce, sitting on the counter and waiting to be eaten. "Oh yeah. 'Bout that." Sans chuckled, making Papyrus raise his skeletal brow. Has he taken more shifts? He had told Sans that he will cover all the bills as a chef, and the only thing Sans would pay for were the groceries.

"I took the whole week off."

"WHAT!?." Papyrus blurted out by accident, raising his voice an octave higher and making Sans snicker at his tone. He leaned back on his seat, arms supporting the back of his head. "SANS, YOU'RE GOING TO GET FIRED." Papyrus scolded him, slightly upset as he crossed his arms. Sans knew Papyrus wanted to spend time with him, but if it meant loosing his job, he didn't want to risk it. "No. I'm not." "HOW COULD YOU BE SO SURE??" "Because," Sans cleared his throat, a mischievous smirk played on his mouth. "They won't fire their very best scientist there. Besides, it's MY project, and the documents are with ME. So if they TRY to fire me, the documents will not be left to them. Which means, they'll have to start back at square one; and since this is a project we've been working on about concentrated magic outlets such as these things called "GasterBlasters"- which took fifteen years to build THAT much magic source, they won't risk it all on firing me." Papyrus' jaw practically dropped on Sans' smart ass loophole. Goddammit. He knew Sans would get away from something like this. After a while of slightly stunned silence and the ever growing grin Sans had, Papyrus sighed in exasperation.

"YOU.. You never fail to amuse me, brother."

"Heh. Thanks bro. Love you."

"I.. love you to Sans, even if you're such a bonehead sometimes."
"Papyrus. That was a pun-"
"NO. NOT. A WORD. SANS."