Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The Surface really should spread out some musical mentorship programs.

Sans stared blankly at his computer, tapping his fingers anxiously on the desk as he reviewed the music sheets again. He had to perfect this. There was no way he’d present this with his usual half-heartedness. Red wouldn’t appreciate a sloppy creation, no matter how much effort put into it. He was as ruthless as Edge when it came to criticising musical works.

But he still didn’t know if he should add lyrics to this mess. He’d been composing for some months now, staying awake just by the seams of his muse. Dancing was all and well for him, but music? Now that was Red’s area of expertise. They could manage science together, but Red would still have a better musical talent and Sans would still have his better dancing.

How did Red manage to compose so much music in such a short time? Sure, Sans hadn’t seen him working on anything, but Red had said he’d won incognito contests in his universe by composing on the spot. Sans had joined similar contests and done the same thing, so it wasn’t as though it was an unbelievable lie. It was a fact. Red wouldn’t lie about something like that.

It was just too frustrating, trying to figure out which music would be better. Three compositions under his private account and he still had no idea which one to use.

How would one confess their love to another person, in Red’s world? Up-beat? Slow? Dirty? What if he needed to be romantic? Something like Papyrus’ ballroom dancing, maybe? What about a waltz? What if Red liked something else, like ballet?

Sans only had one magical dance style… his choice of music was limited to a number of genres. It might take too much effort to make music for a dance, but for Red… For Red, he’d make three and more if it made him happy. One smile would brighten up Sans’ week.

Maybe finishing the songs would impress Red, but it wasn’t going to be paired to a dance yet.

Just as he was about to call it a morning of failure, the door to his room suddenly burst open, and Sans scrambled forward to turn off his monitor, SOUL pulsing rapidly under his ribs. He slowly turned his chair around, praying it wasn’t who he thought it was.

He glanced up, relaxing when he saw his brother staring at him with wide sockets. Oh, thank gods if wasn’t Red.

“you startled me, pap,” he sighed heavily, the hand on his sternum wiping off the nerves in his bones. For a moment, he’d thought Red had come bursting in his room to drag him out to Grillby’s again. “knock next time, okay? i thought for a second it was red. you know how he is with my trying on music. he’ll roast me over fire and laugh at my ashes."

“O-OH!” His brother looked horrified. “I’M SORRY, BROTHER! THAT WAS QUITE RUDE OF ME!”

Sans quirked a smile back, amused. “what’s got you so excited, bro?” He leaned back on his chair, thanking the humans who invented back support. “new sale at the resort?” He hoped it was something useful again. The lotion might not have worked for Papyrus, but it suspiciously turned out to be a good lubricant for repairing gears.

His brother bounced on his feet. It wasn’t his usual excitement… it looked nervous. Unsure. Sans had a bad feeling about this. "HAVE YOU HEARD?" he asked, voice hushed, leaning towards him like he was about to whisper a secret.

Wow, Papyrus was so distracted he’d forgotten his regular greeting? What a strange morning.

“‘hello, sans, brother-dear, how are you?’” Sans imitated with a flourish of his hand, “‘i'm doing well, bro.’”

"SANS, THAT'S NOT WHAT I – NO, NEVER MIND! THE POINT IS," Papyrus exclaimed, exasperated, “I HAVE HEARD OF SOMETHING FROM THE NEW CAPITAL THAT I THINK YOU SHOULD KNOW ABOUT!”

Sans hummed. Of course. His brother just came from the New Capital, where the two Asgores and two Toriels lived. Wherever they were, there was always gossip nearby.

"what's up?"

He smiled up his brother, hoping for good news. The last gossip had been a foursome between the monarchs. It wasn’t surprising, really. There’d been tension between the four of them since the beginning. It didn’t help that Red’s Asgore was more submissive than he let on, and Sans’ Toriel just loved on doting on anyone that needed it.

But the frown on his brother's face was worrying. What was so bad that it made his brother look like that—

"I HEARD THAT RED STARTED DATING SOME MONSTERS FROM OUR UNIVERSE!"

Sans' smile faltered and he went numb. Did Papyrus just say—?

‘what did papyrus just say?’ He inhaled sharply, rewinding his brother’s words in his mind. ‘red was dating someone…?’

Oh…

Red… Red was taken? Sans swallowed the stone in his throat, breathing out shakily.

"I WAS WONDERING IF YOU KNEW—"

"i didn't," Sans answered quickly, pocketing his trembling hands. He forced a smaller smile on his face, hoping it didn’t look weird. (No…) "who's he dating?" he questioned lightly, loosening his shoulders.

Papyrus kept his frown. "WELL, THE LAST I HEARD IS THAT BUNNY FROM THE BAR! DRUNK BUN!"

Oh. Sans dropped his chin, struggling not to flinch. Dates with Drunk Bun? She was… Drunk Bun was an odd monster. Kind, but odd… She hid that she was a female bunny monster. She had been in denial and admitted it until the Barrier had broken, but Sans knew before then. She didn’t keep a healthy string of relationships, flitting from one bedmate to another, free as a bunny with multiple suitors.

Was… was Red attracted to that kind of monster? Sans wasn’t like Drunk Bun, he was more of a monster who chose only a few trusted people. He didn’t bed anyone unless he explicitly trusted them. (He felt like he’d been bedmates with Alphys before, but managed to make her fall in love with Undyne after telling her stories about Papyrus’ captain. The feeling of déjà vu was something he rarely ignored.) He wouldn’t have contemplated bedding Drunk Bun even if she was the last monster in the Underground.

(‘or…’ he thought with dread, ‘or, was red only attracted to feminine monsters?’)

Sans tried not to think about it, but… it… It made sense. Red was secretly a family monster, protective and nurturing even if he didn’t let anyone know. He would want to pair with someone he could take care of, someone who’d have a side that Red didn’t have. Although there was a gender-variety of monsters that could capture Red’s attention, Sans had no idea… He… He thought him and Red…

"he is?" Stars, his voice. He had to fix that. “i mean, he’s dating drunk bun?” What had he…? Why did he even try…?

"I KNOW! LAST TIME IT WAS ICE WOLF'S DAUGHTER! THEN IT WAS THAT DRAGON LADY FROM THE CAPITAL!” Papyrus paused as though he was trying to remember more names. Ice Wolf’s daughter was beautiful and strong, and the dragon lady from the Capital was bipedal with wings and a tail, with shiny gold scales. “THERE WAS MUFFET’S HALF-COUSIN LADY RUFFET, DOGGO’S COUSIN VIXIE AND UNDYNE’S AUNT NEREIDIA."

There was his proof.

Hope dwindled down the drain, drying him up. He could feel his HP drop, could feel his smile tremble. All female monsters. He didn’t know if Papyrus would notice the change, but he… heh… hoped not.

All of those monsters were beautiful, effeminate and bodied with good form… with different personalities that didn’t make sense to Sans. Ruffet was loyal, analytical, and she liked to play fetch. Vixie was playful, but she didn’t like anyone staying with her for more than three days. Nereidia… Well, she was Undyne’s aunt and she liked inviting people in her lake for a swim. Naked.

They were also fleshed out, unlike Sans.

He should have done his research. He should have asked Red. Now he knew… He knew… ‘red wouldn’t have wanted… me.’

"he's straight?" It sounded empty to him, but his brother didn’t notice, distracted by the rhythmic tapping of Sans’ fidgeting foot. Sans felt – he felt trapped, backed into a corner with no way out. He was in a room, but he didn’t know what he was doing there. This fragile hope that Red would reciprocate his romantic feelings… It wasn’t feasible.

Papyrus gave him a quizzical look. “I – YES, BROTHER, RED IS… STRAIGHT. OR, RATHER, HE PREFERS THE FEMALE VARIETY OF MONSTERS.” His brother made a face. Sans figured he was having an equal trouble understanding it, what with his brother having a low sexual appetite. “I ASKED HIM JUST BEFORE I WENT HOME. HE SAYS HE FINDS THE COMPANY OF WOMEN DELIGHTFUL. HE MENTIONED SOCKETS AND PLUGS AND I TUNED HIM OUT AFTER HE TRIED TO CONVINCE ME THAT I SHOULD ASK UNDYNE AND ALPHYS FOR A THREESOME.”

"i just meant...”

“YES?”

He’d thought Red… They spent so much time together – they… He’d thought… Sans shuddered, lowering his gaze to the floor, pressing his arms closer to himself. Red had hugged him so many times, spent time with him just as much, and they went out together on their whims… Sans must have read him wrong.

“i thought we'd be the same," he said weakly, face falling. He’d hoped… Stars, he’d hoped so much, but it was so wrong of him to do so, wasn’t it? He could have asked. Gods, he was so stupid – so idiotically dumbed down by his emotions that he’d neglected the most basic of rules in communication: asking.

"OH!" Papyrus gasped. "YOU MEAN YOUR DEMI… THING?" Papyrus’ face twisted in confusion. He gestured at the air in a careful sequence. “THE… BONDING AND TRUSTING TYPE OF DATING?” his brother guessed.

Sans nodded and looked up, half-shrugging. "after the...” Sans cleared his throat. This was okay. He’d told his brother about this before. Sure, he didn’t remember anything about the timelines changing, but there’d been some reports, right? “the... loops. the resets… you know. i wouldn't have thought he'd be able to share himself like that. like me."

Papyrus was silent only for a moment. "PERHAPS HE HAS WAYS OF PROTECTING HIMSELF!" he suggested, offering a comforting smile. It failed to make Sans feel better, emptied of joy by his discovery.

But Sans still returned a faint smile, laughing tiredly, self-deprecatingly. "that's...” he breathed out slowly, careful not to spill his emotions, “not what i meant, but… that’s good to know."

He… He has feelings for Red. He loved… he loves Red so much. He’s had dreams of Red kissing him, of Red holding him, and of Red loving him back. His best friend, the one who didn’t mind his jokes and encouraged his bad habits if it suited both of them, would never love him back in the way Sans loved him. They’d started off at the opposite ends of friendship, but they had managed to understand each other well and Sans had thought — he had thought they were getting somewhere special.

Stars, this was – this was crushing. ‘pun intended,’ he thought numbly. This agony in his soul… He touched his neck. There was something painful stuck in his throat, something dry and sharp and bloated. He… he really had no chance. His efforts to confess… it was all for nothing, wasn’t it?

He suppressed a sob, gritting his teeth. What – what was he going to do?

He closed his eyes, still smiling tightly. "i think i'll ask him about it. thanks for telling me, papyrus." He would never open his mouth to ask.

“YOU ARE QUITE WELCOME, BROTHER!” Papyrus patted his head, gently. Sans leaned into the touch with a sigh. “NOW, I ALSO CAME TO TELL YOU THAT I WILL BE GOING TO UNDYNE’S FOR TRAINING. I HAVE LEFT FOOD IN THE REFRIGERATOR, SO PLEASE EAT!”

Papyrus left with a kiss to Sans’ forehead, hugging him gently and murmuring that there was a nice meteor shower that would be seen at some country away. He should bring Red with him, since Edge would be training Papyrus at the meadows with both Undynes. Sans whispered his usual goodbyes, wishing Papyrus luck. Papyrus added a worried kiss on the crown of his head before he went out.

When the door finally shut, Sans turned his seat around, the tears he’d held back falling down his cheeks. He covered his mouth, shoulders shaking as he stifled his sobs. Magic soaked his fingerless gloves, staining the fabric with his magic. His sleeves didn’t survive the ordeal, and neither did his heart, whatever was left of it.

He turned his blurry gaze to his monitor, SOUL fluttering weakly. The music… He didn’t need it anymore.

He reached out with trembling fingers, turned the screen on, and then deleted the three songs he’d written for Red.

Only then did he release his sobs, curling into himself, bones rattling at every hitch of his breath.

Chapter Text

He kept himself frantically busy, making excuses to Red about work after a few times he’d been invited for drinks out. He knew it would be a cause for worry – he’d never skipped out before. Three days later, an accident at the lab happened. Fortunately, it wasn’t Sans’ fault, and it gave him more excuses to skip Red’s invitations.

(He’d been waking up in a daze, like he was in a nightmare of a dream.)

His best friend had given him an incredulous look from a video call, and Sans had lied to his face. Sans had lied to Red. He had never tried to lie to Red. He’d always told the truth to his counterpart as much as possible. So Sans promised they’d meet up soon, and Sans… he may not like making promises, but Red had looked so confused and disappointed all at once and he couldn’t have that.

He couldn’t stand seeing Red in that state.

Sans’ HP had dropped again, back to a measly four points. It was worrying – he and Red did a regular CHECK of each other, and if Red found out his ten HP had dropped so low… Sans didn’t know how he would explain the sudden decrease. He didn’t want to. He… He’d rather not think about it anymore, but his SOUL hurt so much.

He didn’t know why it wouldn’t just stop caring. Sans wanted it to stop hurting. Why did it matter if he wanted Red? He should be happy they were friends. Best friends, even. Friendship mattered more to him than any other relationship.

(But it was Red, and he was important to Sans. He would never leave him hanging for so long.)

So he went to Waterfall to try clear his thoughts. The Abyss, of where the water fell into a pit of darkness, leading to a place that no one knew. If he could move on from his silly crush (deep feelings) for Red, then he could go back to normal.

Sans sat at the edge of the Abyss, legs dangling over the darkness. He hunched forward, fiddling with his phone, staring at the poor excuses he’d made to Red. To his eyes, it was so obvious that he was avoiding Red, even more so after the accident in the lab.

His phone pinged, and a new message popped up. And then it pinged again, and again. Sans blinked, peering at the messages.

Red [11:48]
* hey.
* are you okay?
* you haven’t been feeling well, have ya?

Sans sniffled, wiping at his face. His phone pinged again, and it sounded really loud despite the gaping abyss before him. He didn’t reply. His fingers were shaking too much and he didn’t have the strength yet.

Red [11:50]
* i asked your bro. said you didn’ eat breakfast today.
* you gotta eat breakfast, ya numbskull!
* i’m the only one that eats like crap in this friendship.
* also, you better answer your phone the next time i call!

Sans’ fingers itched to write back, but he stopped himself, shaking his head. He shouldn’t… not yet, not until he felt more in control of himself. It wouldn’t do to write something with the way he felt right now.

Red [11:52]
* okay, what the fuck is wrong?
* and don’t tell me the usual shitty excuses
* i know when something’s up with you.

He wilted under the message. He knew lying to Red was futile. He was as sharp as Sans in that sense. His fingers fell on the keypad. He should—

Red [11:53]
* wait! don’ answer that.
* your bro said that was a rude way to ask.

Sans paused and choked on a watery laugh. Really, his brother? Stars, Red was getting desperate.

The next message took longer to come.

Red [11:55]
* fuck! i don’ know how to say things on text.
* so y'better fuckin' appreciate what i’m about to do, sansy.

Red [11:56]
* okay, so your bro helped me on this, so don’ laugh at me:
* sans, i’m really worried about you.
* so you better tell me what the fuck happened!

Sans really laughed now, chuckling lowly at Red’s frustration.

Red [11:57]
* he didn’ like it.
* [pap2_long-suffering.png]
* this is my problem right now.
* i think he's hard to please.

Red [11:59]
* come on, sans.
* y’know i won’t judge you, right?

Red [12:00]
* even if you tripped that one time in my universe…
* and got a handful of my undyne’s breasts.

Sans snorted, muffling his giggles. He’d been terrified then, remembering how much Red’s Undyne had terrible control on her temper.

Red [12:01]
* d’you remember?
* oh my god. her face, you fucker.
* d’you remember that expression on her face?
* she was so fuckin dehydrated she couldn’t even stand to suplex you!

He couldn’t stop his chortles, remembering the exact time Red’s Undyne had stood up shakily and face-planted on the ground of Hotland. Red hadn’t stopped laughing until they got to the CORE, exchanging mirthful looks as Undyne drank from one of Sans’ water bottle.

Red [12:03]
* shit, i think i cracked a rib.
* but i’m fuckin glad my alphys thought it was hot.
* yeah, that’s one thing that saved you from an instant obliteration.
* be glad they don’ live close to you.
* they’re kinky fuckers. pun intended.

Sans traced the messages with a small smile. Red… he really cared, didn’t he?

Red [12:05]
* never gonna have enough peroxide.
* it’s impossible to remove that memory of alphys asking you to touch undyne again.
* so you better thank your lucky stars, boneboy.
* my alphys is into some crazy cosplay and roleplay.

Red [12:07]
* but hey… back to the topic of you.
* come on, sans.
* tell me what’s wrong.
* i’m your friend, ain’t i?
* you've been there for me a lot.
* so you have to let me be there for you, too.

Sans swallowed his tears, keeping his teeth shut. He still wasn’t… He wasn’t okay yet. He didn’t know how he’d react to seeing Red. He couldn’t… He shouldn’t—

ping!

Red [12:10]
* if someone’s threatening you, i can fuck them up easy.
* no evidence left behind, o’course.
* no one messes with my best bud and lives to tell the tale.
* …y'know that, right?

Red [12:12]
* c’mon, ya sweetheart.
* don’ make me come find you and cuddle the shit out of you.

Red [12:14]
* …
* fuckin gods, you infected me.
* i never woulda thought hugging was an attack if you guys hadn’ squished the soul outta me.
* you fluffy fuckers don’ mess around in healin, don’tcha.

Red [12:16]
* saaans, my buddy, my pal, my chum.
* c’mon doll, let best bud red help you out.
* i’ll even let you talk me into knocking back milk if i have to.

Red [12:18]
* and you know i don’ like milk much!
* …sans?

He was really such a horrible friend.

The tears fell freely from his sockets, a miniature waterfall in Waterfall. He hadn’t felt like this since… since they were all trapped in the Underground, before the Merging happened. Heartbroken, though he knew he shouldn’t be.

He let his tears fall into the darkness, face crumpling. He felt utterly alone, even if the warm messages from his phone would be enough to make a fire. The breeze was cold, but he didn’t feel it, tucked into a jacket that Red had given him. There were little lights floating around, some smattering of echo flowers behind him whispering static, but it didn’t incite the usual awe from him. There was nothing fun about this place.

It was a good place to think alone.

Then his phone rang, vibrating in his hand. Sans turned it over and saw Red’s name.

Oh, no.

Reluctantly, he answered the call. If he didn’t, Red would have called and called and called or search for him, worried down to his bones.

“red?”

“sans,” Red breathed. Sans closed his eyes, wiping the tears from his face. Stars… he’d missed Red’s voice. When was the last time they heard each other? His voice sounded deeper, rougher like he’d just woken up. “c’mon, sans, what’s going on?”

Gods and stars, he was so selfish, making Red worry like this. “just… having some alone time,” he said steadily, gazing down beyond his feet. “thought i’d give this self-reflection thing a try.”

Red’s voice was tinged with worry that Sans hadn’t meant to cause. “was it ‘cause of wha’ happened at the lab?”

It wasn’t the reason. “red…” He closed his sockets, shuddering.

“’cause y'know tha’ ain’t yer fault, yeah?” Red whispered, “y'were out fer a break an’ yer lab partner was suppose ta watch over things.”

Sans mouth twisted into a frown. “how did you know that?” That wasn’t a fact plastered in the news. Some really important papers had burned, but Sans had prepared copies for such an incident, so it hadn’t mattered.

Red cleared his throat. “i… er. may have paid yer lab friends a visit.”

“you could get in trouble.” But Sans’ SOUL pulsed with warmth at the thoughtfulness of the action. Red really did mean it when he said he’d protect his friends.

His best friend chuckled darkly. “nah, yer lab pal was pretty fuckin’ terrified a’ me. spilled some beans on my shoes while he was at it.”

Sans’ mouth twitched into a small smile. “real beans?” he asked quietly, recognizing the tone.

“real, red beans. i had to grab a can opener to get it off.”

“heh heh heh…”

There was a moment of silence, and it wasn’t awkward. Sans could hear Red’s clothing shifting, cloth brushing over cloth. Moving. Red was walking. Sans’ free hand brushed over his own clothing. He’d been wearing the same clothes since that day.

Red spoke up again. “…sans.”

“hmm?” He traced Red’s name on the ground beside his femur, putting in small rocks into the depression to mark it.

“c’mon, sansy.” Red’s tone was softer, quieter. Sans’ SOUL ached to reach out and comfort his friend. Shoot. No, he… he shouldn’t do that, right? Touch Red while he felt… he felt romantic things for him?

Sans didn’t know why it made him shed more magic.

“tell me what’s actually wrong. ya don’ care ‘bout stuff like the accident. yer lab partner said ya had extra copies.”

Sans shook his head, brushing his tears away. He took one more look at the little mark he’d made, smiling softly. He really had a good friend. Why couldn’t his SOUL just accept that? “nothing’s wrong, red. i think i’m just stressed out.” He tapped a naked phalange on Red’s name, nodding. “all i need is some time to fix it.”

Sans could only hear Red’s sigh.

“l i a r.”

Sans’ head shot up at the duality of Red’s voice. ‘was that…?’ He turned his skull, and met Red’s glowing eyelights in the dark. His phone slipped out of his grasp, tumbling down to his side.

Oh stars.

Chapter Text

“r-red,” Sans whispered, taking in Red’s narrowed gaze and frown. His soul pulsed frantically, seeing that kind of look directed at him. Red hasn’t directed that look at him since they’d become friends ages ago.

“sans… this don’t look like fixin’ it to me.” A soft, frustrated growl followed after, emphasized by Red running a hand down his face. It was a familiar tell of uncertainty and exhaustion.

Though a dying excuse wanted to escape Sans, he stopped it. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t good. Red would know, and he’d just worry even more. But he couldn’t halt the tear that fell from his socket, trailed by more magic that came from his hurt SOUL.

Red’s sockets widened. “sans—”

Sans was horrified. “i-i… s-sorry, red—”

“fuck,” Red swore, and rushed to him, stepping over echo flowers that echoed the crunch of his shoes on the ground. Sans hastily followed the tears with his gloves, cursing himself for being so fixated by Red’s sudden appearance. Stars damn it, he shouldn’t even have – shouldn’t have been so distracted.

There was just a short second of Red removing his jacket and shoving it down, and then Sans was in Red’s arms, held firmly. He gasped inaudibly, freezing. The touch was grounding and Sans forgot what he was supposed to say, the reasons in his mind’s eye disappearing without a hint. He sat there with a blank mind and didn’t remember why he was crying in the first place.

“gods fuckin’ damn it—” Red stopped, and then he shuddered.

Sans felt the tremors, the subtle vibrations. Was Red angry? Did he make him mad? He… he felt so tired.

“i’m not good at this,” Red growled, his grip tightening slightly, and then loosening just as quick. Red sighed. There was a hand at Sans’ back, running up and down his jacket in a soothing rhythm. “but… what… what gotcha in this mess? who’d i hafta dunk on?”

Oh.

The memories came back with a vengeance, followed by an overwhelming sea of loneliness. His SOUL wasn’t in a good shape, aching and confused. Not yet… He wasn’t ready. Stars, he wasn’t ready yet. He hasn’t convinced himself yet of simply choosing to be Red’s best friend. He hasn’t… he…

Why did Red have to find him so quickly? Sans gritted his teeth and hid his face under his hood, wishing he could crawl under a rock and fade. This was bad. This was so bad, but…

“s-sorry—”

Red weakly interjected, “w-what tha fuck happened t’ya? ya… y'said ya were fine, an’ now yer in fuckin’ tears, i thought fer a moment yer were gonna – that you…” His best friend’s words died into a soft whine.

Sans moved as close as he could without hugging back, lowered his head. “i… i wasn’t, red,” he whispered. He knew what had gone through his best friend’s mind. Him, sitting alone at the edge of a seemingly bottomless pit of darkness… “i came here to deal with it.” Dealing with it miserably, he meant, but didn’t tell him.

“fuck that!” Red swore, but there was something fragile in his voice that edged on a plea. “jus… don’… look, yer my best friend, r-right? i’ve… i’ve never seen ya cry, not… not even when y’get yer nightmares.  an’ even then yer always lookin’ so fuckin’ zen about it.”

Red pulled away and Sans was caught in a fierce, angry gaze. Red’s mouth was pulled down into a frown, browridge lowered.

Sans tensed. “uh…” He’d never seen that directed at him before. Edge owned that kind of gaze from Red.

“but now yer havin’ an off week or somethin’,” his best friend muttered, eyelights turning to sharp pinpricks of light, roving over Sans’ form as if he was trying to find out a physical reason as to why Sans would have a bad week. Sans could understand the need. He didn’t take more than two days to fix himself, but this time… “‘cause you haven't even met up with me to some place. your bro saw you and i get that, but fuck, sans, ya gotta tell me things. i don’ know what’s goin’ on in that mind-a yours.”

Sans shied away from his look, eyelights trailing to Red’s sweater, tucked so neatly under Red’s jacket. It was the stupid yellow one that Sans had gotten him for a prank last year. The black vest and red dress shirt had been underneath the gift, but Red’s uproarious laughter still had Edge shouting all kinds of profanity at the both of them.

There was some kind of stain on it.

Upon a closer look, he finally saw it, and he froze. There were strands of short, brown hair on top the weaving. He’d seen the familiar pattern before on Drunk Bun’s bedmates when they’d bother to go with her to Grillby’s.

So it was true… Sans’ SOUL pulsed hollowly, sinking. He never really had the chance, did he?

Sans shook his head slowly, feeling utterly alone all of a sudden. No, he… he…

He needed to be strong. If Red found out about his stupid crush… If Red found out, then Sans would lose a great friend – a friend that stood by him through his bad days and his good days and even his boring days. He’d lose Red’s morbid jokes and his aggressive, shy hugs. He’d lose the moments where they talked of everything and nothing and…

He wasn’t strong enough to lose Red.

“i was having an off week,” he confessed, omitting a whole lot of other things that could ruin their relationship. He didn’t know what to say, not when his mind was so conflicted, at war with itself and the ideas that threatened to spill from his mouth. He was hurt. He was in pain. “i really think i can handle it, red. you know me. i keep to myself when i have a bad day.”

Red sighed out a shaky breath. “shit, sweetheart, y' gotta let me help,” his best friend pleaded. There was an undertone in his words that encouraged Sans to nod hesitantly. Dropping in a pet name meant he’d really scared Red. He wouldn’t be this sweet otherwise. “i nearly couldn’t track you down—”

“but you did,” he commended reflexively as Red’s voice cracked a little. “you found me.”

“only after i fuckin’ swept up the whole underground,” Red snarled lowly, startling Sans. Red’s fingers were sharp and he could feel them through his jacket, scraping the cloth above his scapula. “those fuckin’ dogs were coverin’ yer goddamned tracks since last week. yer fuckin’ shortcuts were all over between the surface and the underground. your fans pointed me to the opposite sides of yer fave’rit spots.” Sans was shaking, only to notice that it was caused by Red. He looked up with wide eyelights at the near-feral expression on his best friend’s face. He could only describe it as… ‘at the edge.’

“then how…?” Sans trailed off. His best friend struggled with his words, and once again he was witness to the pained grimace he’d never thought he’d be familiar with.

Red replied a sharp, angry, “i only found you ‘cause of stupid damn luck. followed the old trails i knew from my ‘verse to the quietest places i know.”

Sans murmured a surprised, “oh,” before turning silent.

Red seemed to understand he was done and just kept holding him, even if Sans didn’t dare reciprocate. He wasn’t supposed to do that, right? He felt romantic feelings for Red. But then, if he did stop his… his regular physical affection with Red, then Red would be suspicious of him. He’d ask questions Sans wouldn’t be able to give straight answers. Heh.

Sans’ smile drooped around the edges, eyelights lowering. He tentatively hugged back, arms loose around Red’s waist. He hid his face on Red’s jacket, weeping quietly as his best friend, the love of his life, comforted him for a lie.

———

Sans stared aimlessly around as they walked to Sans’ house in Snowdin. His feet moved away flowers from his path, crushing dead grass under his shoes. They followed a small trail of magic curling and unwinding, mimicry of breadcrumbs for the lost monsters that didn’t know how to get back to the towns.

Red was talking lowly to him, saying something about having dinner at the Grillby’s in Snowdin, something about meeting up with people, mentioning no bunny, but there was an implication in his voice that he was expecting something good.

Sans murmured that he was tired, that he just wanted to sleep.

He wanted to spend time with Red, but he knew he wasn’t ready yet. He still felt a fluttery sensation in his ribs whenever Red touched him, romantic or otherwise. He wanted to lean close and hold his hand, maybe give him a kiss. He wanted to cuddle on the couch and watch some stupid show from the Underground Cable. He wanted so much—he can’t let this go out.

He had to be like a star. So close, yet so far away.

It was the only way to stop being this pitiful.

Chapter Text

Red paced back and forth his door, eyelights darting at Sans now and then. They were in Sans’ room in Snowdin, the closest place, according to Red, that was safe for them. Sans couldn’t protest that, except going into the house had tripped the alarms he’d previously placed and alerted his brother of their presence in the house.

Papyrus had met them earlier after his training with Edge and went to the kitchen to prepare his special get-well soup. Sans wasn’t sure what the ingredients would be, but he hoped it was edible. Red wasn’t picky, but he’d definitely developed some taste in food after some months in Sans’ world.

“so are ya going to be free tomorrow?” Red asked him, still eyeing him like he was about to bolt through the window and out into the snow. Sans couldn’t blame him for his vigilance, knowing he’d disoriented Red with his avoidance. Red was the sort to stick to some kind of safe routine, something familiar that he could tackle easily.

Sans shrugged loosely. “don’t know,” he admitted lowly, glancing down at his lap. “didn’t check my schedule.” He hadn’t been following it anyway. His… his stupid crush on Red had been keeping him off his game.

Red huffed. It wasn’t the angry kind of huff, but the amused huff he always had for Sans. “me an’ sum monsters got invites to shyren’s. i thought ya would’ve been all over it.”

“i’m not really that interested in dancing,” Sans mumbled. Right now, all he wanted to do was nap, and maybe stare at Red some more.

Red’s face looked tired. His magic seemed sharper and darker around his sockets. There was more evidence of Drunk Bun’s fur on his clothes. At the third strand of hair, he just made sure his eyelights stared at the carpet. It was safer, less depressing.

It wasn’t like he’d miss out. Shyren had a permanent invite for him despite not knowing who he was. Being a freestyle dancer had its perks sometimes.

Red stopped pacing. “not into dancing?” Red repeated, and Sans had to look up at him to see what he meant. Red’s mouth was turned down, browridge set into an angry, righteous scowl.

He wasn’t sure why his friend’s expression was set that way. He hadn't annoyed him, had he?

“did anyone make fun of yer dancin’?” he demanded, “‘cause i gotta tell ya, bud… that ain’t sittin’ right with me. yer bro sings yer praises when i can get ‘im to talk about yer dancin’! he hasn’t mentioned anyone dissing yer steps fer it.”

“t-thanks, i guess.” Sans turned his head away. He couldn’t quite manage to hide the flush of magic on his cheeks.

Red wasn’t… he wasn’t that generous with praise, claiming that he’d only do it if someone deserved it. The lack of trust in his version of the Underground had made him determined into keeping kind words to himself. When Red said things like that, Sans’ soul fluttered helplessly, thrilled to be noticed by someone important to him.

But stars, did they really have to… have to talk about dancing? Sans couldn’t even contemplate stepping on the dance floor anymore, not when… Not since… Not since he’d heard Red was straight. He couldn’t even picture himself dancing to any kind of music. He hadn’t thought he’d be back into this kind of mindset, not when monsterkind was free to roam the surface. It wasn’t a good feeling.

“…sans?” There was a palpable tension in the air, one that could be cut with a knife. Sans peeked at Red, who stared at him with pleading pinpricks of his eyelights.

Sans sat up straight. Heh. “yeah?”

“are ya… are ya sure yer okay?” Red whispered, wiping a hand down his sweater. Sans nearly copied the telltale gesture of nerves, just as anxious as Red probably felt. “‘cause yer not…” Red hesitated, “yer kinda quiet, sweetheart.”

Sans couldn’t hide the flush on his face this time. “i – i’m just thinking about something.” He was thinking about ways to make Red avoid saying things like that to him – stars, he wasn’t that strong enough to hear Red calling him names of endearment. He wasn’t ready. He… he could get his hopes up with the way Red was staring at him in such worry, with such obvious care in his expression.

It was frankly alarming how quickly he melted inside when Red called him sweet names. Red didn’t even notice he was doing it, probably used to saying it because of his best friend status. Even his edgy brother received such softness once in a while and it never failed to make Edge sputter and blush and look gentle.

“yer not sick, are ya?” Red murmured, eyelights flashing. And it was that tone that Sans was dreading to hear. That was Red’s... Oh—

“red, wait—” Sans braced himself for the CHECK, shuddering when he felt Red’s magic scan him. He felt more than heard Red’s sharp inhalation.

His best friend almost flew across his bed when he lunged to grip his shoulders. Sans flinched, but it wasn’t because Red’s grip was tight – it was loose, and yet it was also caging, with Sans trapped between Red and the headboard.

“w h a t   h a p p e n e d?” Red snarled lowly, red eyelights wild and sharp teeth parted with near-murderous intent.

“i…” Sans stared at him with wide, panicked eyelights. He’d never seen Red so out of control. The words and excuses lodged in his throat and he choked, trembling.

Red’s eyes darted across his face, and then he took a deep breath. “f-fuck. i didn’t mean ta – ‘m not gonna hurt ya, just…”

Sans jolted when Red dropped his head forward, allowing their foreheads to touch. “red…” That wasn’t what Sans had felt. He was worried red would go out and get into trouble.

Red’s sockets were shut, and his whole body was shaking again. Sans couldn’t tell if he was angry or anxious. “can… can ya tell me,” Red began quietly, “what happened to yer hp?”

Sans paused, waiting for Red to say something else, but he didn’t. “had some thoughts. went deep into the thoughts i shouldn’t have lingered in,” Sans whispered, feeling sick that he had to lie. It was his fault, after all. Falling in love with Red wasn’t in his plan, but he did, and that… that wasn’t something he should have done. They were friends and Red trusted him enough to believe him and now he had to lie because he didn’t want to lose Red—

“n-nightmare?” his friend sighed, assuming things once more.

“it felt like resets.” Sans woke up from temptingly sweet dreams and was met with a lonelier reality. He so badly wanted to stay asleep, but he knew that was wrong – it was like he was fantasizing about Red. Dreaming about Red like that… Sans shuddered. “you know it happens, sometimes.”

“yer down by a lotta points,” Red breathed harshly. His grip shifted, tightening and loosening over and over again like he was trying to control himself – as though he was restraining himself from doing something bad. Red held himself with a cagey stiffness, though. He’s controlled, even if his eyelights were wild with his magic, excess of it fading into the air. “like a fuckin’ lot.”

Sans nodded slowly. “by six points.” There was no use denying it. Ten to four points was a drastic change. “n… nothing i can’t get back, of course,” Sans added hastily, seeing Red’s expression shift slightly. He could gain more HP, he just had to find some hope…

Stars, that sounded like the worst idea in the world. Losing HP wasn’t that bad to him, since he’d lived with one HP before. He survived until now. He had four points left, not just a single one. He… just… had to find hope. Somewhere.

“yer letting us help, right?” Red’s tone was firm, unyielding.

Sans trembled at the thought of being near Red. He… He wasn’t sure if that was a good idea. Not yet. He still wanted… things that he shouldn’t entertain. Not even in his sleep.

“i’ll let you help when i run out of options,” Sans bargained quietly, looking away momentarily. “i’m not a baby bones, after all. i can figure something out.” He offered Red a smile that he’d given Papyrus before to reassure him.

Red’s eyelights dilated, and then he searched Sans’ face for something. “i… i guess i can work with that,” he sighed, retracting his hands. “just… just let us know if ya need anythin’, alright? me and my bro have yer back.”

Sans nodded, and then scooted back to get more space away from Red, already aching from the distance. “sure.”

He could… he could try dancing, he supposed. He… Even if he didn’t have the urge to dance at all right now… He could try.

That’s all he can do right now.

———

Footsteps of boots echoed outside Sans’ room, where his friend napped quietly in bed. Red eyed the other skeleton as he turned over for the fifth time. Sans was an unusual calm sleeper, so seeing him so restless like this…

He CHECKED Sans again, using a stronger bit of magic to boost the observation.

sans
lv: 1
hp: 4/4
at: 1
df: 1
mt: ???
dt: ???

*a restless sleeper

Red gritted his teeth at the sight of his HP. Sans had been at a single HP the first time they’d met. Red had been a great ass to him at first, not knowing just how much of a good guy Sans was. He hadn’t been the kindest person, glaring and hissing and shouting profanities at him, doubting Sans’ good intentions and warning his brother to stay away from him. He even frequently CHECKed Sans just to spite him, to make him feel all the horrible things that Red felt back then.

Sans had taken all those in stride, his powerful patience for Red’s irritation bordered on negating every little thing that Red spat at him. He hadn’t even blinked when Red insulted Papyrus, just telling him not to be mean and whispering that he should get to know his brother’s double.

Papyrus didn’t have a single bad bone on his body. He was kind, a little sarcastic and ultimately a motivated realist when he knew the facts. He was like his bro, except nicer and even more forgiving. He didn’t mind when Red swore and enjoyed other puns that wasn’t just about bones.

It was only when Sans fell asleep with Red in the room that made him start hesitating. Sans knew enough that Red wasn’t a big fan of his, and yet he took the risk to nap in the living room, so completely vulnerable. Red had felt… He wasn’t sure. But to think that Sans had trusted him enough to sleep near Red, without anyone to stop Red from doing stars know what…

Red had slowly held back in being rude, and it seemed like Sans and his brother took that as an invitation to be more weirdly affectionate with him. He’d slowly gotten used to getting picked up by Papyrus, and then getting slept on by Sans. Healing had been violent in a good way. Papyrus had caged him in an embrace while Sans had healed him, scolding him lightly for getting into fights with other monsters from ‘Fell universe.

It had been strange to feel the kindness in Sans’ magic. To feel how much Sans appreciated his presence that he’d be able to heal some old scars.

Red glanced down at his hands, unblemished with the marks that had been there nearly all his life. Sans had erased so much of the scars that could have instantly dusted him. Cracks gone, bones healed. Red hadn’t felt so at ease before, but now he did, because he knew Sans could heal him up in a second.

He turned to Sans, clenching his hand when Sans’ mouth turned downward.

It was probably his turn to help.

Chapter Text

The path to Waterfall was a damp hell of a nightmare, but his best friend still took it. Red didn’t know how Sans managed to keep his shoes on the right path, where the soil didn’t sink around his feet, but he did it so well that he looked like he was gliding. It must’ve been his skills as a dancer. Though Red had never actually seen him dance, he was sure Sans had something to do with the ground.

He only knew little bits of Sans’ dance skills from the kinder Papyrus, and Sans’ brother never failed to sound admiring.

Sans hopped over a log, and Red followed a few steps away, hidden in familiar shadows. He wasn’t supposed to be acting like a creep, watching over his best friend like this. He had no excuse but the fact he had no idea what to do with Sans’ little breakdown from earlier.

He hadn’t ever seen Sans so glum like that before, not even after his best friend’s nightmare episodes. The other skeleton always mustard a smile for him at times like those, genuine and soft, maybe a little tired. It wasn’t like the broken smile that Sans had shown him at his room, eyes downcast and avoiding his gaze. That wasn’t usual of his buddy. Sans wasn’t – he didn’t… He was a smiley, soft-hearted bastard with a heart of light. He made just as stupid jokes as Red did and pranked as much as his brother on a rampage. He wasn’t supposed to be moping around like he was mourning, HP dropping to single digits. He wasn’t supposed to be walking like he had was...

Sans wasn’t this sad piece of monster that had nothing left to live for—it just wasn’t right.

His buddy turned left, and Red realized it was a field with no trees close enough to hide in. Cursing, he peeked from the side of the tree. Sans had sat on a small boulder by a small spring, leaning back on his hands and looking at the crystal ceiling of the Underground. He couldn’t see Sans’ expression, but Red had a feeling it would be wistful. He stared at the same ceiling before from his own world, though his world didn’t have that much sparkle since the time scavengers stole the crystals for trade in the city.

Watching his best friend sitting alone in some open field made him feel guilt. He didn’t know what was up with his buddy, so he couldn’t even help him. Sans was just as stubborn in keeping his hurts close to his soul, wouldn’t want to reveal it to just anyone, even Red. If Red tried to pry, it’d most likely push his friend away.

Just as he was about to leave, Red caught sight of Sans standing up. Red stood carefully out of sight, hiding more in the shadows. He wasn’t about to be busted by his buddy. He wouldn’t live it down if he got caught.

Sans started fidgeting, and pacing – an obvious tick of hesitation. After a few more steps, Sans started doing some weird movements. He lifted his foot forward here, twisted his torso there, and all the while making sure his arms kept up with the slow motions.

Watching him, Red realised that Sans was dancing. Or trying to dance, he noted, when Sans stopped at moments to further the evidence of great hesitation. It was stilted, and it didn’t flow like Papyrus had told him it would. He was too awkward and too fidgety in his dance.

Sans did a little more of his dancing before he stopped and sat back on his boulder, burying his face into the soft gloves Red knew he’d never taken off. The guilt swelled inside Red as he saw Sans’ shoulder slump down. It wasn’t a dance. It wasn’t even a practice of dancing. It was Sans giving up on something that his brother mentioned he’d loved.

Red quietly backed into a shortcut, hoping to find something that would make Sans feel even a little better.

Sans was Red’s best friend, after all. What kind of friend would he be if he left Sans in this kind of mood?

———

Sans hadn’t skipped work the next day. The lab had been fixed, according to his lab partner. Red had checked the lab personally to make sure it wasn’t tampered with some nasty traps. He couldn’t get it out of his head that Sans wasn’t feeling well enough to be left alone, so he’d also followed him in secret. When his brother hadn’t mentioned anything about his absence at home, he figured he was still good with stealth when it came to following someone.

In one of his routines, Red had told his brother he was going out with Bun and left. Bun had been drunk enough to crawl, so Red had taken her home as quickly as he could, knowing she’d be knocked out until the next day if she’d slept then. Afterwards, he tracked Sans’ mobile tricycle heading to Grillby’s. Sans hadn’t invited him today, so Red had free time in his hands – though it was really weird that his counterpart didn’t ask him to hang out.

Peering through the window, Red could see Sans playing around with his fries. He poked and prodded and arranged his fries by size, and then he carefully soaked the tips with ketchup. His face didn’t show much emotion, that much Red could tell from the way his shoulders drooped at his side. Grillby didn’t ask his buddy anything, just stayed a silent glowing fire monster behind the bar. When Sans was finished, he pushed away from the counter and left some gold coins on the glossed wood.

Red scampered back into the shadows, crushing the stress ball in his hand as he tried to control his anger. With the way Sans was acting, it couldn’t be anything else but a personal problem to be affecting him. He hadn’t seen anyone change the expression on his buddy’s face, good or bad. There wasn’t a noticeable reaction from anything in Sans’ routine, nothing that could tell Red how to help.

With a grumble, he took out the stone from his pocket and lifted it to the night sky. It was a small, oval-shaped stone that glittered like it was made from a million crushed crystals. It was a small thing that came from Red’s universe, something that was used for trading since gold had been scarce in Red’s universe. He’d had it since Sans’ drop of mood, knowing something so stupid and sentimental could cheer him up. Or at least, Red hoped so. He couldn’t predict Sans when they weren’t on the same wavelength.

Knowing his best friend’s schedule by heart, he took a shortcut in Sans’ lab, and left the little stone as a paperweight on his desk. But then he caught a glimpse of one of Sans’ experiments on the table, so he had to pause. It was a luminescent liquid inside a flask, and it glowed a pretty, pale shade of blue. Underneath it were papers about the experiment, something that had no reaction to air, so it was exposed so simple.

There were unfinished formulas on the paper that intrigued Red, something that he hadn’t touched yet upon the merging of the worlds. He surveyed the room before taking a peek at the neat lines and numbers. Something about the numbers clicked in his head. He grabbed a pencil from the jar on the table and scribbled in some notes, giving himself a mental pat on the back when he figured out what Sans was trying to do. Echo flower dew? A piece of cake. Sans had told him all about it that one time they were hanging out at Grillby’s.

Sans had probably felt too tired to think all about it and that’s why he left some of the notes incomplete. Red could help him with this, too. It was the least he could do for Sans.

Chapter Text

Sans wanted to stay in bed for a little while longer, but the beeping sound of his alarm stayed persistent throughout the morning. No matter how many times he allowed himself to snooze, it would start chirping near his ear every five minutes.

At the fifth time his phone made a noise, Sans clenched a fistful of his blanket and threw it away from his body.

It fell on the carpet with a short-lived flutter, but it also dropped Sans’ annoying phone.

He lifted his head from his pillow and glowered at the sacrificed blanket. The alarm still beeped at him, so he needed to get up. Papyrus would come knocking at the tenth ring, Sans remembered. He needed to get up to grab some clothes and head to the lab.

“get up, get up,” he chanted under his breath. He moved his arms above his skull, swaying it. “i need to do an inventory of the tools, have to finish out the notes, need to arrange the shelf…”

He needed to do a lot of things in the lab. He had scheduled a small meeting to mention items they need to have in the lab, like the latest technological advancement the humans have made. There was monster-made tech too, stuff that made things easier in the Underground. There were notes and books that had to be shelved, internet connections to be settled, and new cables to be installed.

He slumped back into bed. “damn it.”

Sans didn’t want to admit it. He’d been trying to chase a dream, failing when the alarm had woken him up. In his dream, Red had been sitting beside him at Grillby’s and making stupid knock-knock jokes that had barely made sense. But every joke that Red made had Sans laughing in the dream, and it made him feel lighter inside—

Until he woke up, and realised what a massive mistake it was to chase Red in his dream. How he shouldn’t do it in the first place, since Red was taken, and it felt wrong to have Red in his dreams when –when…

Sans clenched his teeth and slapped his sockets shut. “get up, get up, get up,” he muttered, digging his palms over his sockets. He ignored the twinge of pain in his soul, the hollowness inside. “get uppp—!”

Sans couldn’t stop the tears that fell from his sockets.

“stop crying,” he whimpered. “you’re so stupid, sans. you’re an idiot.” How did he not know that Red was taken? Red was a catch – anyone could tell he had a soft soul behind his sharp jokes and sharper teeth. Sans had caught onto it the moment he met the edgier skeleton, seeing how flustered and confused and dazed he had been upon meeting Sans. Every bluster, every CHECK, every snarky remarks – Sans could just tell how nervous the skeleton had been.

He didn’t even mind the CHECKs. Sans’ magic had simply danced around Red’s intent, ignoring the bite and allowing the CHECK. Red had awkwardly apologized for it, but Sans hadn’t felt any malice from the CHECKS, so he simply forgave his counterpart and didn’t tell Red that he was as harmful as a whimsum on a good day. Red had just been like Tsunderplane, acting tough but wanting to be close to other monsters.

“that’s probably why…” he whispered. Red must have felt safe enough to be close to someone.

The tears still didn’t stop from falling at the tenth ring of his alarm.

“SA-ANS!” The knocking came fast, almost abruptly.

Papyrus.

Sans dragged his face on his pillow to wipe away the magic on his face. He managed to find a smile when the door opened carefully, and Papyrus’ head popped through the gap.

“YOU’RE UP!” Papyrus gasped upon seeing him. “THAT’S GOOD! BREAKFAST IS READY, I SIMPLY HEATED THE LEFTOVERS FROM YESTERDAY FOR US! AND… WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO BRING IT UP INSTEAD?”

A soft thread of concern seemed to be in Papyrus’ voice. He must have noticed the residue on Sans’ face.

“hi, papyrus,” he murmured, blinking. “had a weird dream.” A dream where he’d been laughing at Red’s illogically timed jokes that had no meaning. A dream where he had felt so safe and warm and… it felt good, but it was wrong.

“NOT TO WORRY, BROTHER!” Papyrus exclaimed, fully letting himself in and shutting the door. Sans blinked at him owlishly. “I HAVE PREPARED YOU A GIFT! I’M SURE YOU’LL ENJOY IT FOR… ERM… A TIME… AT SHYREN’S?”

Sans’ skull flushed, down to the tip of his toes. Welp. That was one way to get rid of Red from his thoughts. “…i thought we agreed not to talk about what happened last time?”

The last time he’d been at Shyren… was a little embarrassing. Misunderstandings had happened and things got a little too confusing and… well. Sans had almost forgotten, but so many monsters had been on the scene. He wasn’t sure why Papyrus was bringing it up.

Papyrus sputtered, “I WASN’T! I – JUST! SIMPLY FORGOT. M-MOMENTARILY!” It didn’t help that Papyrus looked embarrassed and flustered like the night of… well.

The less Sans and Papyrus thought about what happened last time, the better.

Sans cleared his intangible throat, trying to hide his hands and failing. He didn’t fall asleep with his jacket on. “so, what are you saying?”

“I GOT YOU THIS!” Papyrus offered out his hands. A pair of soft-looking black gloves greeted Sans’ eyelights. “IT’S TO PROTECT YOUR HANDS FROM—” Papyrus looked away, blushing, “—THE FLOOR.”

“i stumble that one time,” Sans snickered under his breath as he got out of bed, “and you’ve never let me live it down.”

Papyrus looked at him in disbelief as he grabbed the pair of gloves. There was a healthy flush of magic on Papyrus’ face, and Sans felt himself mirror it as his words finally hit him.

“MUST YOU MAKE JOKES AT A TIME LIKE THIS – FOR A MOMENT LIKE THAT?”

Sans wanted to shove his face back into the bed to hide his flustered face. “gotcha,” he replied quickly, winking. “no more talking about… that.”

“AGREED!” Papyrus nodded, too quickly.

Sans eyed him warily, fidgeting with the gloves in his hand. “so long as you keep your part of the deal, we’re good.” It would be better if no one knew at all what had happened, but the monsters at the scene had already spread it.

“I AM!” The hint of nervousness was too obvious. Sans wondered exactly what his brother had been doing in his free time.

“are you sure? because you don’t look sure.” Sans couldn’t help but sound doubtful.

Papyrus gasped dramatically. Indignation written all over his face. “I ASSURE YOU—”

Papyrus paused immediately and groaned. He shut his eyes, as if in pain. Sans cracked a grin, and it only grew bigger when Papyrus opened his sockets to give him a look of expectation.

Papyrus sighed, long and drawn out very dramatically. “GO AHEAD, I KNOW YOU WANT TO—”

Sans burst into laughter before his brother even finished his sentence. “papyrus,” he wheezed out as Papyrus looked at the ceiling to count stars.

“I WAS NOT MAKING A JOKE!” Papyrus defended himself. There was a twitching grin on his face, so Sans thought it was a helpless mistake. “I WAS SIMPLY STATING THAT YOU MAY RELY ON ME TO… NOT TALK ABOUT IT! AT ALL!”

Sans’ smile came easily to his face as he looked at the confident skeleton monster in front of him. A large part of him felt at peace. “thanks, papyrus.”

———

The lab made for monsters had been designed to handle monster-builds. Doors were wider and taller; rooms were more spacious. The same could be said with other monster buildings, so it wasn’t specialized, it was just very normal for a monster building to have a higher height clearance.

The materials that had build it came from Sans’ research of natural materials they had in the Underground. The trees in Waterfall had been a critical hit. A specie that outgrew the other trees had a great resilience that mixed well with cement and plaster. It became a material that humans found very, very interesting.

Too bad it couldn’t grow anywhere else that had no magic.

It was also too bad that Sans had bred them that way. What a shame.

Sans stopped eyeing the building and entered, grinning to himself. It was useful to have knowledge of some futures from the strange reports he’d read. The loops sending him way back more into the past had seemed to unlock more opportunities for monsterkind, with him somehow being able to write it down before the ideas disappeared from his head.

It was a shame he didn’t have a clear view, but based on his single HP back when he first woke up to it… well. He probably didn’t want to know.

———

When Sans arrived at the lab, he immediately noticed the crystal on top of his papers on the desk.

Sans’ soul stuttered, and then started rushing with magic. Every other thought in his skull disappeared, leaving only the shiny thing on his desk.

He grabbed the crystal, feeling the magic gather on his face. He didn’t need to know who owned the crystal, there was only one other monster who could get into his barricaded lab room without tripping the alarms.

Red.

“stop it.” Sans gritted his teeth, clenching the hand that wasn’t holding the crystal. He tried. He tried very hard to stop it, but…

The pain in his soul returned. Sans didn’t know how to deal with such a sweet gesture from… his best friend. A part of him wanted to react like he would have, before he learned Red was taken. A part of him wanted to cry. A lot.

Sans carefully looked at the crystal, twisting it around and observing the shifting colours as the lights in the lab hit it.

It looked so beautiful. A nice, shimmering shade of red. It fit in his palm, clicking against his bones lightly. Sans liked it. Sans liked it, a lot.

A weak smile flitted on Sans’ face. The ache in his soul worsened, and the tears gathered in his sockets.

He still wasn’t ready to move on, was he?

“Yo, doc!” a voice called out as the door opened.

Sans quietly dispersed his magic, pocketing the crystal as he turned around.

“hey, beanie,” he greeted casually, trying to come up with a topic—any topic at all. “do you have the papers for the echo dew?”

The bean-shaped monster blinked at him with beady eyes. “Didn’t you already finish them? I just sorted it out on your desk with the paperweight and started working on arranging the papers for Doc Scales.”

Sans’ smile stiffened on his face. “sorry,” he heard his voice say. “i actually meant the glow threads.”

Beanie grinned at him, innocent and bright. “Doc, you’re testing me, right? Don’t worry, don’t worry! I know you finished them all. I’ll get in a word with Doctor Alphys to give you a break.”

Sans sweated under the beaming smile of his lab partner. “uh, thanks. do you mind fixing the vent at room fifteen? i can’t find a tall enough stool to reach it.”

“No problem, doc!” Beanie threw him a sad look, as if Sans was bemoaning his shorter stature to Beanie’s towering height. Beanie was taller than the human doorways, he was a monster that had to lower his head to get in. “I’ll make sure to fix the burners at room ten, too!”

Beanie left the room but couldn’t hide the eyes of pity.

Sans let him leave. Hearing the fading footsteps, he grabbed the papers on his desk, flipping quickly as his eyes took in the handwriting that was like his. The numbers were sound, the solution was something he’d come up with—

Red. They’d been at Grillby’s discussing the echo dew and glow threads and a bunch more of Sans’ research on things that would help monsters create a space for the musicians. Red had been acting like he wasn’t listening, but he had piped up many times about adjustments that could be made for monsters that went crazy on LV.

The echo dew had a simple property of allowing monsters to calm down, and it allowed them a lower level of clarity. It had been a good discovery, so Sans and Red had debated what things they could add to it. Some green water, to heal wounds, and some purple water, to narrow down the area it would need changing.

Sans laughed helplessly as he smiled. How the hell was he going to move on when Red was this ridiculous – prowling in his lab in the middle of the night to lighten the load of Sans’ work, leaving little gifts like a cat that happened to just pass by?

Sans’ soul felt unwilling to let go. He wanted to be with Red, in his embrace, napping against the skeleton like it was the first time again.

Red had changed just from that one day, when Sans had failed to keep awake after rushing through lab time with all his material works written in an encrypted notebook. Red hadn’t left, not even when Sans woke up groggily to Red’s panicking face.

Red had become softer with his words, little terms of endearment would drop unknowingly, and Red would growl at any human that was near when Sans chose him as a pillow in any moment. Red hadn’t even noticed how Sans felt comfortable leaving him in charge of guarding him while he was knocked out.

A glow slowly came from inside his ribs. Sans looked down at his chest and sighed. “shut up,” he told his soul.

Why would it play now, when he wasn’t that interested in dancing? He couldn’t – he didn’t know what to do.

The music crafted by his magic was torturously sad, and languorously slow.

Sans’ smile wobbled.

Something about his dance music made him want to cry.

———

“d’ya want to go to shyren’s?” Red asked Bun, who handed him back the card he gave her.

“You should read it first,” Bun chirped as she brushed more of her fur in front of the mirror.

Red grimaced, already hearing Edge’s nagging in his head. The fur had been mixing up with his other clothes, which led to his brother’s clothes also becoming a nest of bunny fur. Laundry hadn’t been the same ever since he started dating Bun.

Red glanced at the card, taking in the words. “there’s a dress code?” he asked incredulously. How would anyone know who was who?

“Yup! Everyone at Shyren’s place need to be masked,” Bun explained, like it wasn’t a big deal. Like no one could get away with dusting someone and becoming one with the crowd. “I heard one of the founders required it because they had problems dancing in public without one.”

“ugh.” Red flinched.

Bun misunderstood him completely. “I know, right? That’s why they chose Shyren to lead it, since everyone already knows how shy she is. But when she’s masked—” Bun started to look dreamily into the distance “—she’s super good. There’s really nothing shy about her then.”

Red wanted to crumple the invitation card, expecting the date to suck already. Bun hadn’t exactly been keeping a secret how much she wanted to jump his bones—and he was fine with it. It was normal to jump your date. Sure, it was taking all his damned time trying to make her stay put. Sure, maybe they’d try it next time when he was ready.

However, Bun hadn’t been able to keep out how much she wanted to jump other monsters’ bones.

He felt exhausted by it.

Even Vixie, that damned dancer fox-dog had been eyeing his bones like it was a Nicechew. Nereidia hadn’t been able to respect his intent to stay clothed in the lake. There was a tiny mouse monster that he had to turn down. Gently. She still cried anyway.

The other side of the universe really had it out for him. The thought didn’t stop him from trying, though, so he let a lot of things go. He wanted to be a good date, even if Bun was acting strangely.

It had been his stupid brother’s fault he’s in this horrible train wreck of a date, anyway. Red could just yell at Edge’s stardamned plans when he got home. Edge had told him to go out with his date and have fun, Red wasn’t really feeling it.

Red eyed Bun, who had already dressed up way before the dance hall opened. “yer goin’ out now?”

Bun turned to him, excitement lighting up her eyes. “Of course! It’s better to be early. You never know who’s going to start a dance practice outside the hall.”

“is it dangerous?” Red didn’t know much about the dancers, but their Music Hall had so many spars that ended up with monsters in need of green water.

Bun shook her head. “Nope, not at all. It’s just a bunch of dance practice for people who really need to relax before going in.”

Red’s shoulders relaxed just a little.

“Except – wait!” Bun looked rabid, almost. Red couldn’t help but tense when she leaned close. “Last time I went early,” she whispered, “The Stars had a duo battle with some drunk goobers that were making a mess of things at the practice hall!”

Red blinked at her. “the stars?” Dancers had celebrities?

“It’s all a coincidence!” Bun waved her fluffy hand in the air, ignoring his confusion. She hopped on her bed and hugged a large pillow, staring at him with a wide smile. “They’re the monsters that put ‘star’ in their identity name in the Dance Hall. Starbright and Trickstar, two bipeds that have amazing moves. Trickstar’s been with the main Dance Hall in the Underground for a long time, way before me, so we already know them. Starbright came along about... what, a two or so years ago? They went to register in the branch on the Surface. But they really hadn’t met at all until like, a year ago to pair up for an event at the Underground Hall. Shyren thought it’d be funny to pair up the monsters that had a part of their nickname on each other.”

Bun continued rambling, telling Red how the two dancers had been awkwardly dancing around each other, until the time she came early to witness them have a duo against two drunk rabbit monsters.

“They were strong and fast, and my instructor pal back then said they were too good,” Bun admitted, “I wouldn’t even try battling them, I’d definitely lose even with a dance partner.”

Bun continued to tell him more, and Red thought it was good to note down how different their worlds were, how different types of monsters had a specific dance style that matched them, that Trickstar leaned more on freestyle while Starbright enjoyed leading a dance with partners.

It was almost like Red’s world, where musicians had a genre of music they preferred to use for battle. Dancers, like musicians, relied heavily on rhythms and leading a dancer into their style field. Winning a battle still needed some damaging, but this world had so many healers it wasn’t even a problem. Projectiles were still a thing, and weapons still existed. It wasn’t much different from Red’s world, except this one was more merciful.

The dancers that Bun told him about had shown the highest synchronicity the Dance Hall had ever seen. She explained that their SOULs had started to play music with each other, that if the music matched well with another monster, it usually ended up in a partnership or marriage.

“so courting here is different? do y’ play music for someone too?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“It’s all about the harmony of the song and dance,” Bun giggled. She rolled off her bed, standing up with ease before her body touched the ground.

Dancers had a good flow for movement, Red noted.

“Anyway, it’s not that important. We must get ready! There’s still time to see if one Shyren’s dance practice is on.”

Bun abruptly left the room, leaving Red to wonder why she was so much in a rush.

The Dance Hall in the Underground couldn’t be that exciting, right?

Red glanced at the phone in his hand, frowning. He’d rather go with Sans, if he was being honest. Bun had a lot of friends in the Dance Hall, but Red’s friendships only branched out to two other skeletons. He wasn’t even sure if Papyrus was registered, or Sans. The dress code wouldn’t help him find them. There would be too many monsters, and none of them were allowed to CHECK each other, so Red wouldn’t even find out if someone was out to kill him.

And the cards… It wasn’t like a ticket in his world. No one needed the card, it was just for show. Anyone could come into the hall to practice or join the fun inside at night. Red sighed, pocketing the invitation card. He already knew Sans had one, but just in case Red saw him, he’d give him the invitation.

Chapter Text

Red
* i’m picking you up for grillby’s

Sans’ magic rushed through his skull as he ducked his head, soul pounding in his ribcage without control.

Maybe tonight would be different. Maybe Red wouldn’t be able to draw out his emotions as much as usual. Maybe Sans wouldn’t reveal his love for him, and maybe Red won’t notice.

There was no way to be ready unless he took a step forward. He had to move.

Sans typed in his response, shrugging off his lab coat and opening the dirty closet to hang it with the rest of the dirty coats.

Sans
* i’ll be near that crooked tree.

Sans hesitated to add more, but he was hopeless. Red had done something for him, something unexpected. Sans’ hands were free to type up nonsense to his best friend, to commemorate Red’s absurd way of helping him out.

Sans
* you’re lucky you didn’t get caught.
* next time you visit, let me know so i can let you in
* i can’t always expect you to clone the perfect footage.

It would not work much as a warning, but he hoped Red would tell him if he planned on visiting. He could control his feelings better if he had the time to calm himself.

Sans stepped into a shortcut by the crooked tree hidden away from security cameras, hands pocketed in his jacket to hide his clenched hands.

He waited for only a few seconds before seeing Red’s form appear beside the tree, walking closer to him.

Sans met Red’s searching gaze and nearly stumbled when his best friend reached out for him. He ignored his fluttering soul, because taking note of it would break the illusion of his emotional stability.

“yer ready?” Red gripped his arm, drawing him close.

“no, you’re red-y,” Sans quipped, forcing out a grin.

Red barked out a sharp laugh, eye sockets half-lidded. He looked so adorable that it made Sans’ stupid soul pulse with love. It didn’t help that he looked like he just came from music practice, dressed up in the clothes Sans had given to him.

“o’course i am,” Red confirmed. “just for that, make some knock-knock jokes if ya eat the burg piece by piece.”

“heh, you’re in for a ride.” Sans winked, hoping to cover up his nerves with his usual humour. “gotta say, my knock-knock jokes are a total knock-out. you won’t red-gret it.”

Red grinned sharply at him. “better make it good. puns can only last so long, bud,” he warned playfully.

Sans shrugged and then knocked a hand on the trunk of the crooked tree.

“knock, knock.”

“who’s there?”

Okay, so he hadn’t thought that far yet. “not.”

“not who?”

“not you,” Sans widened his eye sockets. “it’s me.” It wasn’t the best of his repertoire, but it was enough to make his best friend laugh at his stupid attempt at a joke.

The tension in the air seemed to loosen. Sans saw the grin on Red’s face and figured it was a bad joke worthy of laughter. His soul relaxed under the sound, wishing he could keep on going. He wanted to hear Red laughing at his bad jokes, wanted to lean close to share the worst ones he’d heard at the Surface. But he should avoid getting too comfortable if he wanted to move on. Sans couldn’t keep Red if he felt like… this.

“that was the most horrible one you’ve made.” Red smirked at him. “worst than the puns,” his best friend added.

Of course, Red preferred knock-knock jokes to puns. Just the thought of it made Sans smile, because he had enough practice with Tori to bring down all the doors in the castle. If Red wanted knock-knock jokes, then Sans would knock him out with them.

Still, he had to defend himself. “you’re not allowed to get tired of my puns. best friends should like puns.”

“best friends can drop yer bones in the dump if ya pun too much,” Red countered.

Sans laughed and silently thanked Red for acting normal, as if there wasn’t a problem with Sans’ HP. Seeing that smile brought an ache in his soul, a soft flutter that died as he suppressed it. Stars, Sans wanted to hug him so badly, it wasn’t funny – nothing about his feelings seemed funny anymore.

In the past, he could follow through the urge, hugging his best friend without a care. Platonically, of course. He would have laughed to himself, thinking of ways to bother Red with silly problems. Since the time he’d discovered his feelings, it just made him be more affectionate – Red hadn’t exactly stopped him. Red just hugged him back because that’s what friends did when another friend wanted a hug.

Sans couldn’t drop his guard. He can’t, he just can’t, because one wrong move could destroy his and Red’s relationship. He knew enough monsters to see the same pattern happen, the probability of friendship was so low that he reeled back at the idea of making a mistake.

Not to mention that Red was dating. Red had Bun as his partner and Sans wasn’t about to ruin it for him. Confessing at this point would be unreasonable when he’d already seen physical evidence that Red had some close encounters with Bun.

Sans avoided looking at Red’s black vest and the red dress-shirt he’d given him. Bun’s fur would be on it, he guessed, too afraid to confirm it. He would make a face if he looked and Red would strip his expressions bare. Red would know and it would destroy Sans.

Sans stopped his train of thought when Red curled a hand around his other arm.

“you… wait,” the hum that followed was familiar enough to make Sans sweat magic.

“h-hey,” he stammered, drawing back. “i’m good, red.”

Red checked him anyway.

So, Sans still hadn’t gained back some of his HP, but at least he still had more than a single point. Right? And he had ideas to get them back.

Red sighed and leaned his skull close. “yer dealin’ with it?” Red’s voice rumbled low, a whisper.

Too close, too close, too close!

Sans avoided his gaze and nodded. “yep. i… uh.” He looked up and met red eyelights, soul thrumming under his ribcage when he saw the concern in them. “i have a plan.”

He hoped the emotion carried by his voice didn’t sound obvious.

His plan seemed easy, but it would be hard to carry out. Still, Sans wanted to follow through it, so desperate that would do anything… everything. He wanted to keep Red. Stars, anything to keep Red.

Red searched his expression, eyelights bright, sharp, and worried. “alright, that’s good.”

Sans relaxed his tense bones, holding it steady.

Practice, he remembered. He needed to practice. His only plan to move on from Red involved going back to dancing, even if his dance song sounded like a sad mess. Shyren’s was a good place to find someone – stars, anyone at all.

(Anyone, please, anyone so he could stop feeling like his soul was about to burst with Red so close enough to hug and touch and kiss—)

“so, grillby’s?” he blurted out, quick to derail his thoughts. Red continued to look at him, observing him. No doubt he was hyperaware of every move Sans made, tracking every motion with the eyes of a Judge.

Sans maintained a clear face.

Red blinked slowly, and then smirked. “yeah. my treat, remember?”

Then, just like the annoying usual, Red dragged him into a shortcut without so much as a warning.

Sans wasn’t surprised to find himself clutching onto Red’s vest, with Red laughing loudly, and him panicking over the sudden move.

“do you always have to do that?” he griped, trying to calm his fluttering soul. The darkness had seemed darker – but he didn’t find anything wrong. Thankfully. He gave a weak glare at the skeleton before him. “can’t we have a code word for when you do that? let’s call it a pickle. like, you’ll tell me we’re in a pickle and i’ll know to grab on to you—”

“nah, you are hysterical,” Red cut off, poking him at the rib. Sans choked on an abated laugh. “shoulda expected this from me. y’know how i work, sweetheart.”

Sans didn’t find it funny anymore when his face flushed with magic. He pulled away from Red, pocketing his hands, and seeing that they weren’t that far from Grillby’s.

“it’s because you always send us off like a rocket,” Sans mumbled, stepping away from the trees.

“what?” Red quickly followed him. “the sweetheart doesn’t like space anymore? dude, yer breaking my heart.”

Sans threw him a look. “hate to burst your bubble, but you don’t have a heart.” He paused, and then dropped the truly baddest of bad news, “you’re a skeleton, red.”

His reply brought out the chuckle he planned for.

They entered Grillby’s, which was surprisingly empty of the perpetual presence of Bun. Red must have chosen a day when she wasn’t here, or she was dancing in a club at the Dance Hall in the Underground.

Or she might be on the Surface, wanting to hook up with someone.

Sans hid a grimace at the thought.

He knew her well enough that she’d be flirting with someone the moment she entered a club, regardless of whoever was pursuing her. With a dance hall on the Surface, many more monsters, dancer or not, had the chance to… meet her.

What if… she did hook up with someone? Sans paused, and then he shuddered.

Red would be devastated. He seemed like a guy who would give it his best into something he loved. Edge liked to boast about him when Red wasn’t within hearing range – mentioning that when Red trained, he trained hard. It must be a music thing Sans didn’t know about, because Edge had been telling him about how Red was multitasking with music, using all his soul to perfect something.

Sans barely understood the specific music jokes, but he had studied classical and electric instruments for Red – for the gift he had planned to give him. The music gift he trashed, but there was still… something else.

Another gift, for another time. It wouldn’t be a courting gift, but it could be a best friend’s gift.

Just a best friend’s best gift, nothing more.

Grillby greeted them when they shuffled over to the bar counter.

“just our regular, but…” Sans thought about it. “hold on the extra burger.”

“hey, no need to hold back,” Red protested. “it’s my treat, remember?”

Sans shrugged, looking at Grillby, who already started working on their orders, before turning back to Red and winking. “i don’t have the guts to eat two.”

Red frowned at him. “what—” he cut himself off and shook his head. Sans figured he might have pieced the clues together. “yes, fine. next one’s mine again if you keep ordering singles.”

Sans smiled weakly, and then they headed off to the booth at the corner, far away from Grillby.

The fire monster would just drop it off, Red muttered at him.

While they waited for their food, an awkward silence descended upon them. Red kept staring at him, and Sans knew he looked distracted. So, he started to casually talked about the lab, about Beanie’s obvious pity for his short height, and about Alphys, who’d been surprised that he finished his work early.

He talked enough that Grillby finally brought their food over. The steaming burger looked amazing, greasy, and delicious. Red stared at it like he wanted to devour everything, including the table.

Sans kept a tight hold onto his burger, grounding himself with the magic emanating from it.

“so how did they grade my notes?” his best friend asked.

“alph’s gonna expect things from me.”

Red frowned at him. “did i do it too good?”

“yeah,” Sans sighed as he bit into his burger, sucking out the magic. The warm kindness and comfort soothed his aching soul, distracting him from Red’s speculative stare. “she saw your work, but she thought it was all me.”

“it’ll be fine,” his best friend scoffed. “at least she’s gonna be too nervous to ask for a new project.” Red hummed, narrowing his eye sockets as his teeth cut his burger in half. Sans witnessed him drain the magic in an instant and started sweating. Red only rushed through tasty food if he had other important things bothering him. For example, a best friend that was acting weird.

“yeah?” came his late response.

“yeah – and, hey, yer gonna have to face it,” Red told him, smirking, “yer kinda advanced, sweetheart, but you keep on letting them tag behind yer ass like little chicks.”

Sans slumped in his seat, trying to keep his cool. Between his hands, his burger drooled out grease on the plate below it.

“the reports aren’t supposed to be used this way,” he mumbled, gently placing the burger at the least greasy side of his plate. “alphys was supposed to be the one doing the biology stuff, and i wanted to do the physics stuff.” Never mind that he’d ventured into more ecological studies to give monsters an edge over humans. With rare natural resources that grew only in the Underground, they’d be rich in no time.

“physics is easy for ya,” Red bluntly told him. Distracting himself, Sans separated his burger into pieces. “y’gotta learn a bit more about other material science, bud.”

“nope. i already got enough grease on my plate.” Besides his burger pieces, he had an important plan for dancing. Moving on from Red, which would take… forever, maybe?

“it’s not just grease on yer plate.” Red shrugged at him. “got some tomato juice in it too.”

Sans eyed the burger on his plate. He had other things to do, and it wasn’t just dancing, music, or doing science. Some of his ‘other things to do’ involved settling down disputes, offering his insight to some important people, and figuring out ways to conserve a lot of energy with less work.

Of course, he lazed around for those things, and he placed them far down the list of his things to do. It wasn’t his current issue, which was… well… finding someone else to tack on his feelings.

Someone who isn’t his best friend, who looked at him with a smug grin and worried eyelights. His best friend, who had a smile that caused Sans to slip on his feet when he thought of it.

“i’d like to say i’m kidding,” Sans told him, voice steady, “but i’m not.”

Red didn’t even know half of it.

Sans needed to move on from Red. He needed to find scraps of hope from somewhere else. Sans wanted to keep Red.

He knew what he had to do. He just needed to dance his specialty and figure out which monster could keep up, and he could find someone who could sweep him off his feet.

(Which, to a dancer, would be a terrible idea.)

“it’ll be fine once you find your rhythm.” Red offered him a grin. Sans smiled at the joke, moving his burger around.

Red shoved the remainder of his first burger into his mouth. Sans watched as he went for the second burger, efficiently draining the magic from it. The burger disappeared in a flash of magic.

A cold chill went down Sans’ spine as he thought of why Red would rush through his last piece of tasty food – his best friend might pay too much attention to him tonight.

“so, what are you up to?” Sans asked, swiftly absorbing the magic from his burger pieces and making it disappear from his plate. He needed to concentrate on keeping up his mask. A burger would distract him all too well.

“right… oh, right.” Red wiped off the grease from his hands with the napkin from the table. He reached into his pocket. “you can have this,” Red offered, sliding over a familiar card.

Sans picked it up and opened it. His soul dropped and a chill settled in his soul. “isn’t this…?”

Outdated rules stared at him in the face, mocking him. If this had been given weeks ago, Sans would have assumed Red was coming onto him. But now… his soul hurt so badly that he could feel it shrinking away from his sternum.

“it’s an invitation card or something.”

“this is, uh,” Sans’ voice trembled a little, but he disguised it with a snort, “really old for an invitation card.”

Red peered over. “is there a difference? i thought my source was okay.”

There were obsolete rules written on the card. Sans didn’t want to break the bad news.

“yes. lots of the stuff here… it might be outdated.” Sans flipped the card over, sockets squinting at the old club sign. “shyren’s… well, the dance halls that have clubs and dance shops have new rules. we’ve updated it almost three years ago, when the musicians came over.”

“fuck. i shoulda gone to you first. i thought i got useful info, but… damn it.” His best friend leaned back on his seat, rubbing the back of his skull. “i figured yer bro woulda invited mine over, so i had some plans to scout the place.”

Sans pocketed the card. “there’s info desks at the hall… halls.” He paused to recall his previous visits to the dance clubs in the Hall. “actually, i’ve seen some musicians go to the dance hall. i don’t think they had any problems, but you can still check it out.”

“now i gotta figure things out again,” his best friend groaned.

“when are you going?” Sans asked as casually as possible. If Red went tonight, he would do his best to avoid him. Sans wasn’t sure if he could handle seeing Red while he looked for someone else to… love.

Sans ignored the twinge of pain in his soul.

“i dunno if i can go tonight. what’s the difference between the halls?”

Shoulders relaxing, Sans sighed. Red wouldn’t be able to go tonight, which meant Sans had time to pick someone from the Underground Dance Hall as a dance partner. Though it would take a while to get to know a person, Sans understood himself enough to know he’d need to trust his chosen monster before he could move on. He would just have to be patient.

“the underground is a little smaller.” Sans looked away, humming. “the surface has a better view. i can’t really talk much about the differences, since… well, there are a lot of things introduced every month, and i haven’t been back in a while.”

Red stayed silent. Sans suspected he’d given something away again.

“so, uh, do you want to hear about what else beanie did at work?”

Red snorted. “yer labmate? did he knock out a mold off your table by accident?”

“actually…”

Sans worked hard to distract Red. He did his best to control his reactions, dragging out some conversations to avoid linking it into awkward topics. After talking about Beanie, Sans had to dig into his skull for a bunch of knock-knock jokes, badly delivered with horrible puns. He went from normal puns to his normal dance puns, and to his bad rhythm jokes.

Rhythm linked musicians and dancers together. It was something they both understood.

Red nearly choked on his milkshake when Sans casually called him off-beat. “ruthless! fucking ruthless. i can’t believe ya called me off-beat!”

Sans sipped on his milkshake. “i heard you’re the one with perfect pitch, but can you dance at all?”

“not even with my three left legs and four toes, sweetheart.” Sans choked on his milkshake. Red laughed at him as he wiped off the goop from his jaw. “i’m the cripple on the dance floor nobody would want.”

“don’t dance at all, then.” Sans looked back at his empty plate and busied his hands with tearing apart the napkin. “we can’t have you tripping on the dance floor. you don’t even have a band around your clothes to help you.”

“…what’s a band for?” Sans’ grin froze on his face. Oh, boy.

It took all Sans’ restraint not to answer it in the musical sense. He didn’t know enough band jokes, and if Red got him started, then he’d be roasted alive for accidentally misusing horrible band puns.

Sans reflexively encircled his hand around the upper arm of his jacket. “like… a band of colour around your clothing. if there’s something like that on you, it means a lot of monsters will stay clear from you, especially dancers.”

“y’mean i coulda saved myself time from chatty people by just wearing my old jacket?!” Red’s expression looked exasperated.

“that’s why you didn’t get any chatty dancers around you,” Sans agreed. He remembered Red’s black jacket with the grey band around the waist. “but yours wouldn’t have worked if you had it open.”

“what does it mean, anyway?” his best friend asked.

Sans stiffened up, shrugging. “…it makes monsters stay away,” he repeated instead. Red made a face at him, but he continued. “but it doesn’t work all the time. sometimes, monsters who really want to chat with you might ignore it.”

“so, it’s a courtesy thing? and really chatty ones might go for ya anyway?”

“yep.”

“then,” Red looked hesitant, and then asked, “what else can i wear so they stay away?”

Sans eyed him and placed his torn napkin strips on his greasy plate. “…do you want dancers to stay away?”

“not you,” Red waved off, “or your bro. you guys are fine.” Sans relaxed in his seat. “just the chatty ones. “

“if you go to shyren’s, you could wear a mask and a band,” Sans pointed out.

Red snorted into his own milkshake.

He sighed and recalled the steps he took to hide his identity. “keep yourself completely covered and don’t let anyone know it’s you. buy the generic protection mask from the mask store at the capital and it’ll save you a lot of magic. it’ll keep your identity protected.”

Red leaned over the table, eye sockets wide. “dude, you mean i gotta dress up so much?”

“the thing about dancers, red…” Sans lifted his hands up, when Red opened his mouth again, “we’re overly dramatic. you’d think only musicians are aggressive, but –”

“damn fuckin’ right, they’re aggressive!” Red complained with a shudder. Sans stared at him, gaping at his vehemence. “the dancers here, what the hell do they want from me, a damned musician? they put us in orchestra music rehab in our music hall for a reason. then i get chatted up by dancers like some… some kinda spectacle or something.”

Like a what? Sans blanked out for a moment. What exactly had been going on with Red and chatty dancers? Sans eyed Red, and then his clothes and did some quick thinking.

“it’s… probably…”

While Red looked amazing in the black vest and red dress-shirt, his pants were slightly tight for bigger movement. His black shoes were simple slip-on thing and… No. On a regular day, Red would have worn his jacket and loose pants and sneakers. He’d wear his gloves… Ah.

That was it.

Sans’ eye sockets widened. “right. you look like you might be a dancer with your normal clothes. you get a lot of offers to dance, right?”

If Sans wasn’t hanging out around Red… did that mean he got a lot of offers? If a dancer walked with another dancer, it meant friendship or partnership, but no one would approach, because it was better to be safe than sorry.

“what?” Red gave him a flat stare. “d’ya think i moonlight as some kinda ballet dancer on a swan lake? want me to prove ya wrong when i dance the goddamned waltz to electro swing?” Sans muffled a snicker on his jacket sleeve. Red’s eyelights rolled. “if i was a dancer, i wouldn’t have my bow and strings. my percussion ain’t gonna play itself while my twinkle toes move to salsa, nor will my electric guitar riff if i have to do breakdancing.”

“oh, boy,” Sans snorted and Red threw him a mock-offended look.

“what’s that look for?”

“sorry, didn’t know you had an idea about dancing.” His words drew out a chuckle from Red. His best friend gave him a smug grin.

“i know some. if i gotta scout, i need to learn the names, sweetheart. that means ya gotta help me out to keep ‘em away, even if there’s a dress code.” And then Red winked. At Sans.

Taken by surprise, Sans flushed and cleared his nonexistent throat, leaning back on his chair. His soul hummed in his ribcage, flustered. In his mind, he smacked it down.

“dancers can’t know what your dance style is if you’re completely covered. this means less offers from dancers that dance in the same attire.” Sans tenses and adds, “and, uh, a band means you have a partner that you’re going for.”

“the bands are what?”

Sans looked away, fingers absent-mindedly tracing the condensation on his glass. “means you have a dance partner, or wish to pursue a prospective dance partner,” he explained quietly, recalling the jacket he’d hidden deep in the closet in the basement. “and, the band means a lot of stuff, so it can get a bit jumbled by the meaning. but, if you want to, you can, uh, approach them. they’ll make it clear if they’re not willing to be… swayed from a prospective partner.”

“but…?” prodded Red.

“but, in general, you might want to stay away,” he suggested, glancing at Red. His best friend stared at him with clear interest and expectation. “some dancers in courtship can be… uh, aggressive, when someone’s trying to interrupt them. they might try to fight you off.”

“oh…” Red’s browridge furrowed. “so, it’s a courtship thing, and also not a courtship thing.”

“yep.”

“but how will i know who’s taken or not?”

Sans felt his soul clench at the thought of Red seeking someone. No. Wait, Red had… Bun. His best friend just wanted to know information like this.

“bands started as a statement of… someone wearing their prospective partner’s colours on their clothes,” Sans explained, skipping the part where he’d accidentally started the ridiculous trend some time ago. “the nuance gets tricky since it’s an evolving development. sometimes, bands with a hollowed shape could mean anything. yearning—” it took all his power not to react “—pursuit, or loyalty for their prospective partner. other times, it means they’ve been rejected. you…” Sans looked away, unable to continue. “you might have a better chance of understanding it by seeing it in action.”

“wait – yer sayin’ prospective partner, but all i’m hearing is a lot of pining and telling everyone yer heart’s been broken.” Red’s guess went straight to the point.

Carefully, Sans kept his expression blank. “i told you, us dancers can be… just as dramatic as musicians.”

“musician courtship is simpler,” Red revealed to him, “just play music to the person ya like. then they’d tell you to fuck off or stay.”

A sweat of magic dripped off Sans’ vertebrae. It was a good thing he hadn’t followed through to giving Red his musical gifts. “cool. i guess i’ll get to see edge be serenaded in the middle of the road one day.”

“he’d gut them.” A smirk appeared on the face of his best friend. “my bro doesn’t like to be put on the spot like that.”

Did Red also…? No. Stop. Sans’ mind went to places he shouldn’t visit.

Desperately, Sans’ eyelights darted around the bar and then towards their plate.

“speaking of guts…” Sans gestured to their empty plates. “i’m… kinda stuffed. wanna stop for the day?”

Any more talking and he’d accidentally spill his so-called guts on Red and red-gret it.

Red’s expression dropped. Instantly, Sans felt his sins crawling over his back as Red scrutinised him. “…yeah, if yer sure.”

“have to do some planning at home,” reminded Sans.

Red visibly relaxed. “yer right,” his best friend agreed. “you… you gotta get going, huh? better let me know if y’need me.”

“sure.”

“but wait, i forgot to tell you ‘bout something,” Red rushed to say, “about the dews.”

Sans paused, and then asked, “what is it?”

His best friend beamed like a star, and Sans was drawn to it like space rock. “i figured out how to make red ones.”

Several seconds later, Sans forgot he was supposed to go home.

—

The promised time at Grillby’s with Red ended amicably for Sans, who came home to an empty house in Snowdin.

He remembered trying to stay on the topic of echo flower dews and his other public projects, that he’d avoided Red’s searching gaze and kept a steady voice throughout his science talks.

He recalled when Red picked him up, dressed in the clothes Sans had given him: the red dress-shirt and the black vest. Red had mentioned that he’d come to grab him after his music practice with Edge and that… that thought had sent his soul fluttering. He’d done his best to shove his feelings aside, to look at Red without romantic affection, but sometimes Red would do or say things that made him weak and soft and...

Stars, they haven’t been separated for ten minutes and his mind had gone back to Red again.

Sans covered his sockets with his arm, shuddering. He wiped away his tears and forced himself to calm down.

He wanted to keep Red, even if they were just friends – he just had to move on, and fast, because Red was too good and too caring, and it hurt Sans in ways he hadn’t known he could be hurt.

‘stop it, stop it, stop it,’ he thought to himself as he paced back and forth the hall to the basement.

Grillby’s with Red had been… stressful. Sure, it was Sans that had invited Red over, but… It had taken all Sans’ reserved effort to hide away from Red’s sharp gaze.

He hadn’t been able to keep his cool, he knew, because Red talked more than usual, and the stare he gave crawled over Sans’ bones like he was trying to pick apart his pretentions.

He could only hope he hadn’t messed it up, that his actions hadn’t confessed his feelings for him, that he hadn’t stared for too long or looked away for too long or… or he hadn’t talked too much or too little.

Sans knew he’d given away something, but he hoped it wasn’t something too obvious. The aching need to hug Red had been very prominent in his thoughts, and if he’d sent the intent to his best friend…

Stars, it would be bad, right? Red would know and Sans wouldn’t be able to face him, to face a kind rejection, to face a Red who might force himself to love him, or to face a Red that might feel betrayed…

Sans shuddered and stopped pacing.

Red had a ridiculous sense for magic, but they’ve been friends long enough. Hopefully, it could be mistaken for something completely platonic.

Hopefully.

Since the house in Snowdin was empty, Sans went to the secret basement, walking a familiar path towards the closet between tall shelves of monster food.

Sans stopped in front of the closet, hands in his pockets, taking in the dark wood of the double-doors and carved bone handle. He reached out, grabbed the bone handles, and opened the doors, revealing a set of modified clothes hanging before him.

Hooded jackets, cloaks, and coats – they were mostly dark in colour, and some of them had shifting stars on them. All hanging tops had long sleeves and long collars, including a ridiculously yellow dress-shirt, and a dark blue sweater. Pants were just as dark, but some of them had stars moving across them, and one of it had an orange star flickering on its left pocket. Shoes on the floor were almost similar in nature, except all the ones with straps and shoelaces had glowing lines of magic.

Sans turned his head, and saw his exhausted face reflected on the mirror behind the left door. He shifted his attention to the opposite door. Two masks hung behind the door of the wardrobe.

One was a black mask with an emblem of a circle and six wings on its forehead. A special mask. Bisected in the middle, from top to bottom, with its black side on the left, and its emblem on the left cheekbone was a four-pointed star. On its white side was half a grin.

Beside his special mask was his dancing mask. On the left cheek of the white mask was a four-pointed star. Its design completed the secret identity a silly misspelling had given him.

He grabbed the mask for dancing, a long black shirt, and then a soft, black hoodie with the glowing red band with a hollowed circle on the arm.

Eyeing the clothing in his arms, Sans sighed. He touched the red threads of the hoodie, tracing the band with a trembling finger. He touched the hollowed part of the band.

Red’s colour around the upper left arm of his hoodie… To dancers, placing a band around their clothes meant they were taken with someone, that they were smitten in the most ridiculous of ways, to the point of stumbling in their steps. It meant they’re thinking of that person, that they’re most likely distracted, that they’d be daydreaming or dreaming of them. It meant a declaration of love, or a declaration of unrequited love. Maybe the dancer would be yearning for them, but wouldn’t be loved back, or maybe they were loved back, but no one would know.

No one would know, only because they would try to avoid monsters who wore bands around their clothes. It also acted as a safe zone.

“damn it.”

Just seeing Red today had been… hard. Red’s grin, his laughter and his snappy comebacks had sent his soul stirring, urging him to… to hug Red, which would be a bad idea. Red was taken, and most likely straight. Papyrus had been noticeably clear about it.

Sans had no chance, but why did it still hurt? How did monsters move on from falling in love with someone who would remind them how they were so good each time they met?

Sans stripped his jacket and shirt, and then wore the black shirt. He slipped in the hoodie, covering his face with the mask, and then attached the mask’s straps to its match under the hood.

He shucked off his pants and shoes, grabbing plain black ones. The red band around his arm would be enough. Anything more would be too blatant.

Nodding to himself, he sent the clothes on the floor into a shortcut.

Then he sent himself to the Underground Dance Hall, inside his reserved room at Shyren’s.

—

Sans felt the pounding beat of the music from the club once he’d exited his room. It settled deep in his bones, as if grounding him away from his thoughts. His feet shifted under him, moving fluidly across the floor as he headed to the backstage.

The dim lights and the glow of blues and greens gave it an almost sea-like design. It was dark, but not dark enough to disguise the equipment used to give the club its atmospheric settings. Sometimes a stagehand would crank up a mechanism to spread some fake magic fog on the floor to make everything look mysterious.

There were masked and unmasked dancers roaming around, but most of them gave him a wide berth when he’d appeared, making it easier to find Shyren.

A clam monster carried her, and she wore a sparkling, scaled mask. It shimmered a deep green under the glow of the lights. Her manager kept her up, supporting her as she talked to a stagehand. They spoke of something that Sans couldn’t hear, but he could tell it was about him when a cat monster beside her looked at him in shock.

As Sans made his way towards her, a few monsters surrounding Shyren started pointing at him.

When Shyren turned around, Sans was already a few steps behind her. The monsters surrounding her had scattered away, but still looked at him so… strangely, as if they still couldn’t get enough looks at him.

“T-Trickstar!” Shyren gasped, and then her manager repeated it like an echo. Sans winced at the reminder of the registration mishap with the Librarby volunteer. “N-no, sorry, I mean, Masked Dancer!”

At the correction, Sans relaxed.

“Hey,” he greeted, and then stopped. He’d forgotten how he sounded when he wore this mask. How many weeks or months has it been since he’d avoided the club…? “I’m back.”

Shyren’s singing and dancing manager inhaled sharply. “You’re back!” she exclaimed, and then Shyren floated off beside the clam monster. “Where… I mean, I’m glad that you’re back!”

“We’re so sorry!” Shyren blurted, followed by the manager.

“Yes, we’re very sorry!”

Sans raised his browridge at their combined effort to apologise. “What do you mean?” he asked, though he already knew what it was about: his ‘mistaken’ identity and the temporary scandal… with his brother.

“We didn’t mean to misunderstand the situation, and it grew out of proportion, so I’m really sorry,” Shyren apologised profusely, her magic flaring across her scaly body. “I paired you up with Starbright, thinking that, uh, you were together at that one time since… Well, it wasn’t you!”

Sans tilted his head. “It wasn’t me?” But it was him. He just didn’t have his normal disguise at that point in their story.

“Yes, it was a different dancer, and it wasn’t Starbright, it was his brother! We made a mistake,” the manager exclaimed. Sans nearly felt relieved. “I tried to keep the dancers quiet, but they misunderstood it and rumours about your band pointing to Starbright became a hot topic.”

“But don’t worry! I made sure to correct them,” Shyren added, swimming in the air to do a flip. While the mask was on her face, Shyren had a lot more confidence than her unmasked self.

Sans was glad to see the effect it had on her, especially when she swam around her manager in circles. The more distraction she caused, the better it would be for Sans to slip in his theme.

“How did it get so, uh, scandalous?” he prompted.

“It’s because of the dancers that were, um, following you,” Shyren admitted. “They saw you disappear at a corner, thought you were the other dancer, and then they followed him. Since they opened a door to a private room without announcement, the door hit the dancer from the back, and then it pushed him into his brother, and then they landed in a tangled heap on the floor—”

“And that’s when things got out of hand!” the manager hissed. Shyren swam around her frantically, as if trying to calm her. “They thought it was you and Starbright, but it was just Sans and Papyrus!”

Sans nodded along as if he hadn’t heard his name. “Oh, wow, what a mess.”

Shyren sighed in unison with the manager, and then they looked at each other like they were commiserating. Sans wanted to step out of the conversation, but monsters around them were listening in.

He wanted them to spread the words as fast as possible.

“They wanted to practice dancing together in the duo room, but then they left because the stalkers – I mean, the dancers following you started asking questions, so they walked out through the doors and the dancers didn’t see their face since they had protection robes on them, but they’re bipedal so they thought…”

“They thought it was you and Starbright, so they spread the word that you and… um. Well, they spread the word!” Sans hummed to show he was still listening. The manager continued, “But we’ve made it very clear that it wasn’t you, and that everything was a complete accident!”

“Yes, it was those dancers who didn’t knock!” Shyren’s little fins flapped quickly as if agitated. “They accidentally pushed Sans with the door, knocked him into his brother, and then they made it sound like Sans and Papyrus were, um, doing something. They didn’t even look at their face!”

“So, please come back tonight,” begged the manager. “I’ll even make sure to make them clear the floor and give you a zone—”

“Sure,” he interrupted, rocking back on his heels. “I can set the pace if you want me to.”

He only had tonight until morning to select a special someone from the crowd—anyone would do. Monsters had the flexible talent for quickly falling for someone, right? It was time for Sans to test if it was true.

“And… Really?!”

At Sans’ nod, the manager grabbed Shyren and twirled her around. Their excited laughter spread glee outwardly to the other monsters across the floor. Sans carefully avoided the magic.

“Yes, you won’t regret this! We have musicians from our world on the floor making and remixing dance music. So, if you have any specifications, they can play it for us!”

“Really?” At their seemingly eager body posture, Sans clenched his gloved hands in his pockets and sighed. He couldn’t believe he was about to do it, but… “Then, as a theme, how about a sad one?”

For some reason, Shyren and her manager’s body language displayed twin postures of horror.