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It was getting steadily chillier outside, at the time; and when you opened the door, the two of you were swept with warmth.
It was a subtle kind of warmth, since your furnace didn’t exactly work very well in your house. As a result you had a good few blankets stuffed inside the closet in your bedroom and you wore your jacket indoors more than the average human being, probably—but it was surprisingly still pretty insulated, for such an old (so you’d been told) house. You didn’t usually have to worry about the cold getting in. …So far.
The real problem you had with it was how small it actually was; you had a living room, kitchen, bathroom and singular bedroom, but nothing more. And to be fair it was all you really had needed when you first bought it (or rather, were… Given it? Is that even the right way to describe whatever the heck happened there??). But, since then…
You shrugged to yourself, as though shrugging the weight of that thought off your shoulders—and you turned once more to the skeleton next to you, giving a showy sweep of your arms. “Well… This is it.”
In response, your husband raised one bone-brow at you.
“you say that as if i’ve never been to your house before,” he said dryly, and you chortled.
“You have but I mean… If you’re gonna actually be living here, for the rest of… Whenever,” you applied vaguely with another shrug, which looked rather silly in your attire now that you considered it, “might as well give you the grand tour.”
“or we could, y’know. take our clothes off, like normal people?”
“Wow, that eager to get to the good part, huh?” You waggled your eyebrows at him and he rolled his eyelights so far into the back of skull you were sure they’d roll out of existence.
But his smile, of course, never faltered. (You got the feeling it was truly real for once.)
“if the good part is getting to sleep through all of tomorrow, then sure,” he retorted which, yeah, fair point. As much energy as you could provide for the both of you, you were kind of exhausted yourself.
“Yeeah, now that you mention it.” A wedding dress wasn’t particularly cozy enough for you to be wearing after hours, so… “We should probably change, or something.”
Sans snorted, “oh, so now you’re serious about it?”
You decided not to give him the satisfaction of teasing you; more specifically, you decided not to reply with words.
Instead, in perfectly smooth fashion, you brought your joined hands up to your face, and brushed a lingering kiss to the top of his.
“Always have been, honey.”
…
“…eheheheh…”
You had expected him to go blue in the face, even look bashfully away from you as he did, knowing him.
The giggle was still a little new, though.
“if you… uh… say so,” he said at last in a mumble, sounding like he refused to believe you given the lightheartedness of before, but…
His grin had turned so, so soft again, and trusting—the same grin you’d seen him with for nearly the entirety of that day.
You tried not to let your own falter, and gently tugged on his hand.
“C’mon,” you hummed, “the night’s still young. …And I want popcorn.”
His resulting chuckling following you, you pulled him along down the hallway.
*
“Hey, remind me to call Mettaton soon,” you flippantly said over your shoulder, as you shimmied into your nightgown. Sans, clad in his old shirt and shorts again, looked all but totally confused for a few seconds.
“uh, why? thought he said he’s goin’ back in a few days.”
“Yes, which is why I need to give back the dress,” you reasoned. “And I don’t want to make him travel all the way here again just to get it back.”
“well, did you ever ask if you could just…” He flailed his arms at the subject of discussion, hanging neatly back in your closet. “keep it?”
You frowned. “No? It’s a rental dress.”
That didn’t seem to phase him, somehow, as he merely shrugged and supplied, “it’d be worth a shot.”
“…No. No, I couldn’t… No.” You gave it a brief glance, before shaking your head and turning your gaze back to the skeleton lounging on the bed. You smiled almost questioningly. “I mean? It’s not like I’m ever gonna wear it again anyway.”
You joined him a moment later, flopping down lazily (but briefly, you told yourself).
“I owe him enough already.” You… Kind of owed everyone. For more than just today, your soul reminded. You turned your head to face him with a smile, “Life’s too short to owe people stuff, y’know?”
“again. ya say that like you’ve got the whole future planned out,” he snorted. Your grin grew, and he stared at you. “…do you?”
“Kinda? Not really. Just… Have a sort of vague idea in mind.”
He made a noncommittal hum. “like what, sweetheart?”
You gave him a rather serious look, despite your carefree smile. “Don’t you remember?”
You could tell he did; and he looked… Almost surprised, when he realized. A bit to your own surprise, maybe.
“you still… wanna do that?”
“Why not?” Your smile faltered, maybe. “I thought you… Didn’t you say—”
“no, no, ‘s not that i…” He laughed, surprisingly lightly and your smile became a… Not smile. “i just… would’ve thrown in the towel by now, if i were you.”
Well… “You’re not me.”
Another laugh, “i know that.”
“…That’s why I love you though.”
You weren’t sure what you’d do without him, at this point.
He meant the very world to you, and when you looked at him, you hoped he knew as much.
…
“But… It’s fine, if you’ve changed your mind,” you told him. You knew you could be a little overambitious, and… “My dreams are… Kind of dumb anyway. So if you…”
Sans cut you off, sliding over to his side and nuzzling his teeth to your lips to stop the words from leaving you.
“baby, if i thought that,” he said softly, with just as soft eyelights that gazed into your eyes, with no small amount of certainty, “i wouldn’t be here.”
You opened your mouth to deflect, or argue or something, but,
your husband kissed you again.
“if i even remotely thought it was dumb, or crazy, or…” He chuckled. “or if i didn’t want what you want.”
You chuckled too. It sounded a bit weaker.
“and, i don’t know, maybe… maybe it is impossible, or unreasonable or whatever but…” Maybe, you had always been wishing for too much, and… “but… i feel like, if there’s anyone who can reach that kinda thing…" His thumb brushed your cheek. "it’s you.”
You scrunched up your face at him in incredulity—mostly to distract yourself from the tears that now threatened your eyes—and he giggled. “heheh, really, sweetheart, i’m serious. ‘s like you… make it easier to believe things will turn out better, somehow. i don’t know, like together we can…”
His eyelights warble a bit as he meets your gaze, sockets lidded, smile somehow looking dopier than you’ve ever seen.
“like we could do anything.”
You smiled back, just as dopily, likely.
“I hope so,” you said. “I…”
…
“You’ve… Always made me feel like I can too.”
Like you didn’t have to… Care about before.
Like you could be… Better.
Your eyes were getting misty again, so you quickly blurted, “Speaking of… That? You know, we still have to unpack everything tomorrow.”
Sans groaned.
“do we have to?”
“If you want to stop rummaging through boxes for things then yeah.”
“but that’s so much work.”
You snorted. “Says you.”
“…what’d you mean ‘says you?’”
“Says you says me because you know why,” you retorted, emphasizing by pressing a swift yet gentle kiss to the spot between his eyesockets.
He mumbled something that sounded like a halfhearted protest. You propped yourself on your elbow, trying to meet his gaze as you paused.
“Would it be weird for me to say I’m really proud of you for that?”
Sans wrinkled his lack of a nose at you, albeit playfully—likely mostly to distract from the light blush that blossomed across his cheekbones. “since you’re not my dad, yeah.”
In retaliation you wrinkled your nose back at him (which should have been more effective since you actually had one). “Yeah, well. Deal with it,” you snapped back, “’cause I am.”
A confused expression crossed his skull.
“you’re my dad?”
“Wh—”
You gave his arm a light smack, scowling more as your skeleton simply laughed.
“No! You know what I mean, silly bones! Geez,” you rolled your eyes, grumbling loudly. “How can you take one thing so seriously like that and in the next be… That?”
He gave you a look, one that pointedly said, says you.
But before you could retaliate to his unofficial jab like the well-versed adult you were, he pulled you back down to him, nuzzling your cheek in retaliation of his own.
“i dunno, maybe i just like being corny once in a while.”
“Well,” you sighed. “I guess I can’t argue with that.”
…
…Wait.
You squinted at him.
“Excuse me?” you asked.
He just grinned back at you. “what?”
You carefully pushed him off you, rising to your feet.
“I’m leaving.”
“why?” He sat up, feigning a bit of hurt (and innocence). “i thought we were butter together.”
Despite the undignified snort that almost escaped you at that one, you narrowed your eyes at him, crossing your arms in equally-feigned annoyance. “Stop.”
“don’t you mean pop?”
…Now that was just plain stupid.
You would not stand for this any longer.
You leaned over him, uncrossing your arms—and in one quick, smooth motion, you swept an arm under his legs and the other around him, quite literally sweeping him off his feet.
“wha—” he started to squeak, but you were already moving.
“Gotta stick to tradition,” was all you declared, which just caused him to splutter more. “Very important, can’t forget about it.”
“tradi— wh— th-this isn’t—? what tradition?!”
Undaunted by his stammering you made it all the way down the hall, to the living room, and finally stopped back directly in front of the front door.
And then you simply supplied with clear obviousness, “Carry you across the threshold.”
“…what?” He stared at you, eyelights almost as large as his sockets themselves, face blazing blue at this point—but for all the befuddlement and fuss he made, he had promptly looped his arms around your neck. “that doesn’t even make sense for— we're already in— i-i’m not— the Hell kinda reasoning—?”
At that point you couldn’t take it anymore, and naturally you started snickering like a lunatic. “Cool, so,” you chirped between your laughter, “now I know how to get you to stop punning.”
Ohoho, you couldn’t wait to try it out more! What other kind of methods would work, too, you wondered…?
You had plenty of time to find out, you supposed.
“you’re awful,” your skeleton shot at you, which had a lot less bite to it when he wasn’t directly looking you in the eye—or saying it without any actual conviction whatsoever. “terrible.”
As far as you were concerned, he could tell you that all he wanted; and you would still recognize otherwise.
“Yeah, yeah,” you scoffed, “that’s why you married me, I know.”
He scoffed slightly back, only to rest his skull against your chest. Your heart did about a thousandth somersaults all at once.
You cleared your throat. “…So how about that popcorn?”
Though, he’d probably he asleep by the time you even popped the bag in the microwave. (Which really just meant more for you in the end.)
And sure enough,
“no thanks,” he murmured. “already got all i want."
. . .
"sure it’ll be grain, though.”
You set him down on the couch for that one, practically deadpanning down at him.
“Yeah,” you drawled, “good ol’ microwave popcorn. Amazing.”
“a-maize-ing.”
“…Okay, you’re sleeping here tonight.”
You stalked off to the kitchen, listening yet again to the sound of his laughter, genuine and bright.
…
You never clarified you wouldn’t be there either.
Which is exactly where you ended up in the end with your midnight(-ish) snack, snuggled up with his sleeping form on the couch—not exactly the most comfortable place (especially when you spilled said snack all over the floor and cushions by incidentally falling asleep yourself), but…
Somehow, you found you slept better than you had in months. Years, maybe.
And, for the first time you felt…
Happy.
Truly, wholly happy, and…
. . .
And you Hoped he was right.
You Hoped you could—
...No.
You knew you would be able to do anything now.
You had Sans by your side, now.
Forever and always. Until the end.
And nothing,
nothing made you feel stronger.
Nothing could have changed it.
Even if you never got everything you wanted—everything you had Hoped and Dreamed for…
No matter where the two of you ended up.
This was still enough.
He was enough.
…
His own words echoed in your mind, a hundred times over.
already got all i want.
And you knew you could say the same, without a second thought.
Because he was all you had ever wanted too.
All you ever needed.
You'd spend all of the rest of your life being wonderstruck by him; enchanted to have met him, and known him.
You adored your skeleton.
With all of your heart, all of your entire being.
With all of your soul, you loved him.
And, because of that…
Because of him,
finally, this could feel like home.