You couldn’t sleep.
It had been an issue with you ever since you fell Underground and entered a world without hope, where the creed really was ‘kill or be killed.’ You had been fortunate enough to manage to befriend two skeleton sentries–despite the fact that the Royal Guard Captain wasn’t exactly thrilled about the idea of letting a human SOUL remain in its vessel when they only needed a few more to supposedly break the barrier, but…
Sans had vouched for you. He had actually stood up to his brother, getting over his nervous stammer to gain you Mercy.
And once you had stomached Papyrus’s lasagna (which you were almost certain contained so much vinegar that even some glass shards from the bottle had managed to become incorporated within), you had been deemed ACCEPTABLE FOR A HUMAN and allowed refuge in their home.
Of course, this meant sleeping on their couch…
Even after what had happened with Sans.
Wistfully, your gaze was drawn to the bedroom door, barely visible past the railing of the upstairs hallway. You found yourself sitting up on the couch, your fingertips rising to brush against your lips, feather-light. You could still feel the imprint of his teeth there, his phalanges on the back of your head, tilting it back while his magical tongue swept across your lower lip, demanding entrance.
It had been a hell of a kiss, especially from a skeleton, but Papyrus had chosen that moment to barge in (literally kicking the door in; you had discovered over the last month or so that he had a weird fetish for kicking inanimate objects, as well as Sans’s ass) and ruin the moment. The two of you had jumped away guiltily, flushing like teenagers caught making out by their parents. Sans’s zygoma were flushed a vibrant crimson, his eyelights dilated and just as bright, and he hurriedly wiped saliva from his sharp teeth on the back of his sleeve.
Papyrus had narrowed his eyesockets at the two of you, giving you a knowing glare. Of course, he had grilled both of you for a confession, but Sans stammered some excuse, and ultimately, Papyrus decided he didn’t care enough to wring a truth he already knew out of you. After that, Sans had laughed with a nervous timbre and squeezed your hand, claiming you both had dodged a bone attack there. He was sweating as the two of you went back to watching MTT, and while he didn’t move closer, he also didn’t let go of your hand until he retired to his bedroom with a “welp, night sweetheart.”
That had been weeks ago, and ever since then, Sans had been quick to kiss you when his brother was away, though he was becoming more and more brazen, like holding hands beneath the dinner table with Papyrus seated directly across from you. It felt both silly and exciting to hide your affection from the grumpy Guard Captain, and it was obvious he knew what was going on but chose to simply scowl at the two of you instead. You had achieved relationship status–you’re crazy about the red-eyed skeleton–and yet you were still sleeping on the lumpy couch. And he would still kiss you and murmur a “night sweetheart” before retreating upstairs.
After he did that tonight, you hadn’t been able to sleep, but that wasn’t new. You had been on-edge ever since the first monster in the Ruins tried to kill you (you could still feel that Froggit’s tongue lashed around your throat), and when you did sleep, it was uneasy and felt as if you were constantly being chased.
So… given your dynamic with Sans, maybe you could sleep in his bed tonight and let him chase away your bad dreams. It would be nice to finally find a reprieve secure in his arms.
You creep upstairs, careful to step over the creaky stair midway up the staircase, and head down the hall to Sans’s room. There, you pause, your knuckles poised to knock.
But… you don’t want to wake up Papyrus and have him irritably shout in your face and banish you back to the downstairs couch. So, you throw caution to the wind and try to doorknob. It’s unlocked, of course, and you quietly slip inside the bedroom, closing the door behind you. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust, but once you spot the lump curled up in the middle of the mattress, you gingerly pick your way across the messy floor (geez, Sans was a slob; food wrappers crinkled lightly underfoot, and you’re fairly certain every garment he owns has been haphazardly discarded on his carpet) until your leg hits the edge of his mattress.
Two sudden red lights emerge from beneath the ball of blankets, and in the next moment, the bedside lamp temporarily blinds you as it’s switched on. You blink away the sudden slew of spots in your vision and Sans jolts up in the bed. "what’re you doin’ here, sweetheart? tryin’ to give me a heart-attack?“
"You don’t even have a heart, and I taught you that phrase,” you point out, giving him a look. "I just wanted to see if I could…“ You voice trails off as you gain a better view of his bed. You’ve never been in his bedroom before, and now… you understand why.
Sans follows your gaze and freezes, as if he forgot it was even there in the first place. "shit, uhh.. listen, it’s not what it looks like.”
You’re suddenly grinning ear-to-ear. You had thought Sans was such a gruff monster, someone who had probably dusted plenty of monsters over the years–someone tough, fierce, and quite crude.
But you never expected to see this side of him.
“It looks like you sleep… with a mountain of stuffed animals!” you blurt, unable to keep the unabashed amusement from your voice. Still grinning like an idiot, you sit on the edge of his bed while he blushes a vibrant crimson (even brighter than the time his brother caught you making out on the couch) and tries to articulate a rebuttal, but… he’s just too mortified.
You pick up a fluffy brown bear, missing a button eye and appearing both worn and well-loved. A sudden realization dawns as you watch him attempt to stretch the blankets over his collection. "Is this why you never offered to let me sleep up here with you?“
"yeah, ok?” he snaps, irritated and unable to look you in the eye. "i didn’t want you to see. ’s embarrasin’.“ His growl of a voice is low, his chin dipping down beneath the cherry red collar secured around his neck. "i kept meanin’ to stash 'em away in my closet, but… they… help me sleep.”
He looks so miserable in that moment that you reach out and hug him, crushing the stuffed bear between the two of you. "There’s nothing wrong with that. I used to sleep with them, too, before…“ Before you fell. You shake your head to dispel the thought. "If anything, I find it cute.” You draw back while he scoffs, his hands balling into the bear as if he wants to rip its stuffing out. Your hand covers his, and your smile shifts from teasing to gentle. "I didn’t know you had such a soft spot, Sans. And I like that there’s more to you.“
He snorts. From the smirk that crosses his face, you can tell he has a good come-back in mind, but he doesn’t ruin the moment by utilizing it. Instead, he draws you into both his arms and his bed and clicks off the lamp. "there’s nothin’ soft about me, sweetheart, but… maybe you can be my stuffed animal from now on.” His arms wind around you, drawing you against him, while you can feel the mountain of stuffed animals pressing into your back. It’s comforting, being surrounded by both.
“I’ll help you sleep if you help me sleep,” you murmur, your fingers tightening in his sweater. He grins, clicking his teeth against your forehead.
“ok, sounds fair. 'night sweetheart.”
“G'night.”
And this time, when you fall asleep, neither of you has nightmares.
