Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“And how long has it been since you’ve slept, Doctor?” you ask, sifting through documents at your desk. You look up to the Royal Scientist with a raised brow. “Well?”

Gaster takes a slow, steadying breath, standing before your desk as proudly as he can manage. He’s clad in his usual heavy, dark robes that serve to obscure everything save his head and hands. There is a definite weariness to his expression, but he does his best to hide it with the proper posture and false facade of attentiveness. “You know as well as I do,” he says, speaking slowly, purposefully, “that this project is incredibly important to the Royal Family.”

“And you know as well as I do that it's a ridiculous project commission from the King,” you say to him in return, standing from your desk with the stack of sorted papers and documents in hand. “You are running yourself ragged. And for what? Something we almost certainly can't fully deliver on.”

“Now is certainly not the time to get caught up on-”

“How long, Doctor Gaster?”

He sighs. “. . . How long since . . . what?” he asks, his voice unmistakably meek.

“How long since you’ve slept?” you ask, genuine concern creeping into your tone as you make your way closer to him.

Gaster doesn’t answer, just staring at you with empty eyes, a frown settling over his face. “One more day,” he assures. “Please. I need one more day with this project, one day to make some progress. And then I’ll rest.”

You inhale slowly. “Is that a promise?”

He nods. “You have my word.”

“. . . Alright then.” You hand Gaster the stack of papers, lowering your gaze. “I don’t mean to pester you, Doctor,” you say softly. “I know these experiments are important for the underground and the overworld. And the Dark Worlds, I suppose. But I don’t want to see you destroyed by your work.”

You raise your gaze. Gaster’s looking back at you, drained, even though the day hasn’t even begun yet. Regardless, he smiles at you, doing his best to make it genuine. “I appreciate your concern,” he says softly. “I do, my angel.”

You smile at him in return. “I told you not to call me that here,” you murmur.

“And I told you there’s no need to call me ‘Doctor’ when we’re alone,” he says. “I will be fine. As I said, you have my word. You need not worry.”

“I can’t help it,” you tell him, plain and simple. “I have to worry about you.” With a sigh, you straighten your posture, matching Gaster’s height almost perfectly. “Just as you worry over me. And over your projects.”

He nods slowly, eyes closing. For a moment, you don’t think he’ll open his eyes, that he’ll fall asleep standing up right before you. But after a beat, his eyes reopen and he straightens his posture as best he can. “I know,” he murmurs. “But I don’t wish to worry you like this.”

“Then get some rest tonight,” you say, resting a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll see you in the lab, my love.”

He grins. “See you soon, my angel,” he says, raising a hand to your face, letting it linger. Soon enough, though, you both withdraw your hands, and he turns and leaves your small office. You watch him as he disappears from view, heading out towards his office to sort out the documents you’ve given him.

Left alone, you take a deep breath and return to your desk. You do your best to get back to work, organizing a couple of experiment results and doing some prep work before you start the day. But despite your efforts, your mind immediately wanders.

The Royal Scientist, W. D. Gaster, has been your collaborator for years now. You’re one of the only humans who lives in this area of the underground and the only human scientist who works in the Royal Laboratory. For a long time, you were the only human in the underground at all. Plenty of monsters, if not most, have left for the overworld since the barrier was broken, but Gaster has remained, working diligently on specialized experiments for human and monster kind. There are a few aids and techs who are brought on when needed and a small team of permanent staff, but you and Gaster run the majority of the experiments commissioned by the Royal Family personally.

Given the workload you both take on as a result, the time you spend with Gaster is significant. Not to mention the time you spend together outside of the lab when you get the chance.

However, given that Gaster is your superior, neither of you has yet put an official label on the relationship you share. Though you’ve assured him time and time again that it would not harm either of your reputations or change anything about your work, he’s wanted to keep things subtle. As such, though it’s been a long time now, not a lot has happened between the two of you physically outside of your homes. In private, you’ve spent plenty of time in each other’s arms, doing all manner of things together, from cooking to reading separate books while splayed across a bed and each other. Outside of your homes, longing touches when secluded are often shared. On occasion, the two of you embrace in celebration or when bidding each other goodbye for an evening. You’ve shared a few awkward kisses, and once or twice you’ve climbed into bed with Gaster to sleep next to him for an evening, though again, only in the privacy of your homes. But thus far, the extent of your relationship has been limited, exclusive though you are.

You don’t mind.

You’re a scientist after all. You’re logical enough to know there’s something deep between the two of you. You’re also logical enough to know that Gaster is not ready for anything more than what you have just yet. And you understand that. The time will either come or it won’t. In the meantime, you can wait.

Besides, it seems as though you’re both about to reach a turning point in the relationship.

Gaster’s been more open to calling you his ‘angel,’ a nickname he gave you when you first came to the lab and helped get things back on track. He’s more accepting of your lingering touches, and he’s been reciprocating them whenever he gets the chance. In addition, you’ve both been spending more and more time outside the lab together.

That is, until the latest project from the Royal Family fell into your laps.

The slow building of gentle touches, shared smiles, and time spent alone together have been hindered significantly by the latest project. The commission from the Royal Family was for a new technology aiming to bring back artifacts from Dark Worlds. Though Gaster was integral in the conceptualization and understanding of these worlds, he never personally sought them out or made any himself. His private research on the possibility was extremely useful when they first sprung up, and ever since, he's been the Light world's leading expert on all things Dark. He was often tasked with keeping tabs on the Dark Worlds when they were first created and has visited many throughout his time for further research. Ever since the Dark Worlds were first brought to the wider attention of the world, the Monster Royal Family in particular and the Dark Prince have kept in close contact and worked in tandem to manage the relationships between the worlds of Darkness and Light.

That said, the King has always been an interesting man. And given his latest whim, by decree of the King, the two of you have been tasked with bringing objects between the dimensions of Darkness and Light without having them change their form, something that has never been done successfully on any meaningful scale.

In all your efforts, you've only managed to bring back a few eggs unchanged. And Darkner scientists and the Prince alike have told you simply that your efforts will most likely be for naught.

However, Gaster is the Royal Scientist. He must abide by the demands of the King, outrageous though those demands are in your opinion. And by extension, you must give him all the help you can offer.

As such, you have both been doing your best to produce something, anything, putting in long, late hours, even hiring new staff to aid in this project. But, despite every effort, progress has been unbearably slow, and it's likely nothing meaningful will ever come of this. It’s been a while now since this project was commissioned, and despite the pressure to produce something of substance other than the eggs, it’s taken a while for things to get underway.

Additionally, by request, you had to send in a progress report last week, which was not received very well by the King. As a result, Gaster has been putting in ridiculous hours in the lab day in and day out, working himself down to the bone in an effort to make more progress on what is, essentially, turning out to be a futile cause.

You’ve always had very healthy boundaries when it comes to work. You aren’t opposed to overtime when needed. The occasional late night in the lab will inevitably come around, and you’re willing to reap the reward of a job well done on time (plus a little extra payment as well). But Gaster has never had the same relationship with his job as you have. He’s been working late nights and early mornings, sacrificing meal breaks and, according to a couple of aids and techs, pulling a few all-nighters as of late.

The stress has taken its toll on all of you at the lab. You’ve felt your fair share of it, as have the permanent staff. But Gaster seems determined to work himself to death over this project. You’ve seen how dedicated to his work he can get, how borderline obsessive he can become. This isn’t the first time he’s been like this. And given how far he’s been willing to push himself in the past, you can’t help but be worried.

That said, he’s been better as of late. And despite yourself, you’re hopeful that Gaster will keep his word and head home at a reasonable time tonight.

As quickly as you can, you finish up your paperwork and head to the lab, ready to begin the day, hopeful for some progress.

Unfortunately, though, once again the work faces roadblocks and dead ends, with nothing to show for it at the end. Gaster continues on regardless as you and a few of the lab techs leave for a meal. And by the time the day’s coming to an end, you know you’ll be staying late alongside the Royal Scientist.

Though you rarely linger past late evening, you decide to try and remain with Gaster until he goes home and gets some rest.

However, it’s late at night, well into the early morning, when you realize you’ve been staring at a piece of paper for nearly a minute, trying to focus your mind enough to read it to no avail. You blink hard, your eyes blurry and tired, and though you know you need to read the report in your hands, you decide to set the paper down alongside some new blueprints. You cannot work like this. You aren't even able to bring yourself to read and understand a single paragraph. Looking over your shoulder, you find Gaster sitting hunched over a worktable, eerily quiet and completely still.

Everyone else has long since gone home.

And with a quick glance to a clock on the wall, you see that you should’ve been asleep at home hours ago.

With a heavy sigh, you turn and start making your way to Gaster. Your footsteps seem to echo out into the lab, bouncing off the walls and washing over equipment, prototypes, and dozens of eggs. Strangely, even as you approach, Gaster doesn’t stir.

“Doctor,” you say softly, coming to a stop just behind him. “I apologize, but I need to go home.”

Gaster doesn’t respond.

All at once, panic builds inside of you, your mind unable to rationalize properly given the lack of sleep. “Gaster,” you say urgently, striding towards him quickly. You rest a hand on your shoulder, moving to his side to look at him. Your eyes widen slightly. He isn’t moving, eyes closed, breath slow, but steady.

He’s asleep.

He's only asleep.

You swallow hard, jostling him slightly by his shoulder in an attempt to wake him. Though you’re glad to see that he’s only sleeping, your concern for him has only grown. “Gaster,” you say again. “Wake up, love.”

That seems to do the trick.

Gaster’s eyes fly open with a sharp gasp, his back straightening like a rod in an instant. For a moment, he looks around in a panic, alarm filling his expression until his gaze falls to you. Then, all at once, he calms. “Oh,” he murmurs wearily. “Oh, I . . . Gods above, I apologize, I must’ve . . . What, uh, what time is it?”

You look at him, brow furrowed. “Past 4:00 AM, Gaster,” you say. “You’re supposed to be back here at 6:30, aren’t you?”

His jaw clenches slightly. “I apologize, my angel,” he whispers. Turning in his chair, he adds, “You should take the day off tomorrow. Take the entire weekend if you’d like, I didn’t mean to keep you this late, I-I-”

“You’re taking the day tomorrow,” you say firmly. “We both are.”

Gaster blinks. “I . . . don’t know what you mean.”

You sigh, easing in closer. “Were you even planning on going home?” you ask him. “Or were you just going to sleep at this worktable for a few hours?”

Gaster inhales slowly, but surely, exhaling with an undeniable exhaustion. “I think you know the answer,” he admits.

“How many nights has it been like this?” you ask, a worried tone slipping into your voice.

Gaster shakes his head. “I do go home,” he assures you. “Most nights I do, my angel.”

“But for how long?” you demand as gently as you can. “Are you in the lab this late most nights? I mean, Gods above, if you get here at 6:30 every morning and leave the lab at 4:00 in the morning, do you only go home to change?” To your horror, he doesn’t say anything, lowering his gaze with shame. “Gaster,” you whisper. “No. No, you can’t keep this up. You need to rest, my dear.”

“I find time,” he says, wholly unconvincingly. “I’m fine. This work, it’s more important than . . . The King, he . . .”

Gaster doesn’t go on. Nothing he could say would convince you, and he knows it. Moreover, he knows you’re right.

You swallow hard, emotion starting to well up in your chest. “. . . This work is not more important than you are,” you tell him, trying not to let your voice waver. “This work is . . ." Despite yourself, you sigh bitterly. "I hate to say it, but work on this project has largely been futile, my love. And it may finally be time for us to make our peace with the fact that we cannot deliver what the King wants of us.”

Gaster nods in agreement, staring out into the dark room, unseeing in his gaze. You take a deep breath, bringing your hands to his face. “And even if the work continues, I am not going to let you run yourself into the ground over something like this. It’s not worth it. You are worth more than this. You deserve better than this.”

Gaster closes his eyes and says nothing. You know it’s the late hour, but his posture slumps, pure exhaustion that has been seeping into every fiber of his being finally breaking through the facade of togetherness, and you feel tears start to threaten at the corners of your eyes at the sight.

Your employer, your collaborator, your dear friend, and dare you even say your partner, is not a particularly young man. Gaster is not as fit as he could be, injuries from his previous life before science scarring his face and the palms of his hands, some days making it difficult for him to move without the use of teleportation. But despite all that you’ve seen him endure, every state of being you’ve seen him in, you can’t recall a time that you’ve ever seen him look this defeated, this drained, in the many long years since you’ve known him. You don’t revel in being right. You don’t like seeing him like this. You’d almost prefer it if, despite his state, he could still laugh you off or wave you away and keep working, insisting on being fine.

But Gaster cannot even find the energy to respond to you just yet. All he can do is round his shoulders and let his head fall forward slightly out of your grasp, eyes closed, head shaking slowly but surely.

“Gaster,” you whisper, your voice trembling.

“. . . I’m sorry,” he murmurs, eyes opening against every instinct in his body. He stares out at nothing, gathering more energy. “Truly,” he continues. “I . . . gave you my word, and now . . .” He swallows hard, turning to look at you. “I am so sorry, my angel.”

You bite your bottom lip, feeling it tremble. “Could I take you home?” you ask him, softly. “I don’t want you to go alone . . . Can I? Please, love?”

He nods, slowly. “I would . . . It would be . . . greatly appreciated, my angel . . . Thank you.”

You try your best to smile at him. “You think you can up stand straight?” you ask.

At that, he cracks a smile as well. “I am only tired,” he says, starting to rise. “I can stand.”

“The aids tell me you didn’t eat lunch,” you remind him. “Or dinner.”

He shrugs. “I ate,” he assures you. “Here and there, I . . . I ate. I swear it. That I wouldn’t neglect.”

You roll your eyes, parting from his side so you can turn off the lights in the lab. The rest of the mess can be taken care of later. Right now, you both just need to get out as soon as you can. It’s a walk to Gaster’s home, and knowing he’s in no state to teleport, you need to get going as soon as possible if you two want to get any rest. “I have some of that cider you like,” you mention, swiping a small jug from a nearby desk as you make your way towards him. “You should have the rest.”

Gaster continues to smile, swaying slightly as he stands. “You are far too kind to me,” he whispers, raising a hand to accept the drink. He follows behind you as you begin to make your way out of the lab, drinking the cider you offered him slowly.

You both stop to grab your things from your respective offices before leaving.

It’s dark outside, the air still and quiet. You both wade through the silence slowly but surely, walking together wearily. At some point, you bump into Gaster’s side and stay there. At some point, he tangles his hand with yours, and you both smile at the gesture, continuing on at a languid pace.

Soon enough, you arrive at Gaster’s home, walking up to his door hand in hand.

The building itself is nothing spectacular, a rather modest living situation, all things considered, but it suits him well, hidden away down a side path, giving him ample privacy. You’re about to stop short of his porch and bid him goodnight when he murmurs something about you staying for a bit, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

You don’t object, happy to step inside despite the late hour. Plus, more than anything, you want to make sure Gaster actually settles for the night.

You move past the familiar living room and kitchen, passing into a small hallway that leads to Gaster’s bedroom. Without hesitation, you both enter the small room together.

Automatically, you part from Gaster’s side and sit yourself down on his mattress while he moves about the room, returning his belongings to their proper places. “Just a moment,” he says, moving towards the bedroom door, slipping back out into the house to put away a few other things.

You lean back against the pillows for a moment, pulling out your phone to send a quick email to your staff. You let them know that you and Gaster will not be in for the weekend, and that they are welcome to take a break as well.

As you hit send, letting your phone fall against your chest, an unmistakable blanket of drowsiness begins to coat your mind and body. You never stay up this late. It’s been years since you’ve stayed up past midnight, and your body is not letting you forget it. Figuring it won’t hurt to just rest your eyes for a moment, you allow yourself to sink into the bed, relaxing greatly.

When you wake with a gasp only a few minutes later, your gaze immediately finds Gaster quietly closing the door to the bedroom, watching you carefully with a slight smile.

“I'm sorry,” you say, propping yourself up. "I didn't mean to fall asleep."

Gaster holds up a hand. “No need, angel,” he says. “It’s late. If you’re tired, you should rest.”

You give him a look. “As tempting as that sounds, my dear,” you say with a sigh, “I do need to be getting home.” You lift your phone from your chest, glancing at the screen and checking the time. “Gods above, nearly 5:00 AM.”

Gaster chuckles quietly, shuffling over to the other side of the bed. “May I?” he murmurs, gesturing to his mattress.

“It’s your bed,” you tell him.

“That it is,” he agrees, settling beside you. “I just wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” The bed is just big enough to fit the both of you, and the thought of just lying next to Gaster and falling asleep for the night beside him crosses your mind. When you look up, you find Gaster settled with a heavy sigh, both of you still clad in your work clothes, lying on top of the blankets.

For a moment, you both just stare at each other.

Gaster takes a breath. “You messaged the team, I saw.”

You nod. “I told them we’re taking the weekend,” you say. “And if they want to, they should as well.”

“The entire weekend?” Gaster asks, settling gently on his back.

You smile, kicking off your shoes, letting them fall to the ground as you give in. You settle in close beside Gaster. “You're going to need more than a day,” you tell him quietly. “I hope that’s alright.”

Gaster hums softly, his eyes closing. “More than alright,” he assures. “I can’t thank you enough.”

“Don’t mention it,” you whisper. You move a hand to Gaster’s chest. “It is my pleasure, love.”

Tentatively, Gaster lays his hand on top of yours. “What would I do without you?” he whispers.

You squeeze his hand gently, deciding to say nothing. You’re curled up on your side, watching Gaster’s chest slowly rise and fall.

To your surprise, Gaster just manages to crack open his eyes again, turning his head to look at you. “. . . Are you still wanting to get home?” he asks.

You pause, considering your options. “It’s . . . late,” you note. “Would it, I mean . . . Could I stay here? Would that be alright? I can sleep on your couch for the night.”

“Nonsense,” Gaster says to you. “You’re here already . . . It wouldn't be the first time either.”

“You don’t mind?” you ask.

Gaster smiles. “As long as you don’t mind,” he says, letting his eyes close again. “. . . Are you . . . alright, my angel?”

You nod, your eyelids heavy. “Yes, my love . . . Thank you for . . .” You pause to yawn, your eyes shutting tight, stubbornly refusing to open for a moment. “Mm, sorry. Thank you for letting me stay.”

When you manage to crack your eyelids open, you find that Gaster’s already asleep, his breath slow and steady.

Deciding to follow his lead, you let your eyes close, your body relaxing in seconds.

You fall asleep in Gaster’s bed beside him with your hand resting on top of his chest, one of his hands covering your own.

You dream of a Dark World you visited many years ago with Gaster for a research project, when he first called you his angel.

Chapter Text

You don’t wake with your hand placed gently on top of Gaster’s chest, his hand on top of yours.

You wake curled up on your side, Gaster’s back pressed against your chest, with one of your arms wrapped around his body to keep him close.

Without a second thought, you press your face against Gaster’s shoulder blades, relishing the closeness. You don’t even open your eyes, just taking a deep breath and settling back against the bed.

It’s a bit cold in the room, and your bodies are positioned on top of the blankets. Gaster’s body doesn’t provide much warmth as is, but the closeness keeps in any escaping body heat. Plus, you like being with him like this. It’s a small luxury neither of you has ever afforded yourselves outside of your homes.

Soon enough, you start to fall back asleep. Though you don’t know it, you’ve woken up at 6:00 AM as you usually do, just out of habit. That said, it’s easy to find rest again given how late you were up.

Had it been any other day, your slight shifting around would have woken Gaster immediately. But he’s still deep in sleep, making up for the many days of lost rest.

For a very long time, both of you stay close and still, dreaming of darkness and of work and of each other here and there.

It isn’t until around 1:00 PM that Gaster begins to stir. His breath picks up, and his eyes crack open ever so slightly. Almost immediately, he realizes you’re still lying in bed beside him. He can feel your soft breath, your chest rising and falling against his back, your arm still slung over his body.

Gaster smiles faintly to himself, eternally grateful to have you here with him. He’d half expected your presence last night to have been a dream or a waking hallucination formed in his sleep-deprived mind. But you’re here, real as anything, curled up against him.

As cautiously as possible, Gaster tries to readjust his position. But at his subtle movements, you start to wake, stretching out slightly against the mattress. You let out a soft sigh, your eyes opening.

Gaster grins, moving around without concern until he’s lying on his back, your arm now slung across his chest. You smile up at him as he eases an arm around you in turn.

“Morning,” you murmur.

“Good morning,” Gaster says in return. He squints, his smile falling. “Gods above, I apologize. You must be cold, my angel.”

You shrug. “I’m alright,” you assure, even as Gaster begins to move, pulling the blankets out from under you both. You adjust, gladly pulling the blankets over both of your bodies. “Thank you, my dear,” you murmur, easing back in against your partner.

Gaster hums in response, turning onto his side to face you, still just glad to be with you.

For a long while, your limbs tangled, your bodies relaxed, you and Gaster lay in bed together, simply enjoying each other’s company. The two of you have only occasionally done things like this. You’ve fallen asleep more than once in Gaster’s bed after a late-night conversation went on a little too long, just as he has at your house. The kiss you plant against his forehead is also not out of place here. Kisses are common for the two of you.

But when a few minutes of silence pass and you both start to curl up against each other, moving so that you’re face to face, you smile, sensing that things are about to take a new turn.

It seems your patience with Gaster is finally about to pay off.

Without saying a word, you both lean in, joining in a gentle kiss. One of your hands moves to cradle the back of Gaster’s head, and you feel him grab gently at the fabric of your shirt in return, letting out a soft sound against your lips.

That alone stirs something inside of you.

You start to deepen the kiss, letting one of your legs hitch over Gaster’s side. He makes another soft, needy sound against your lips, clutching at your shirt ever tighter.

With a smile, you ease up, pulling away slightly so you can look at Gaster.

Gaster looks up at you almost reverently, his chest rising and falling against yours with heavy breaths. The amazement in his expression makes you laugh a little, both of your hands coming to his face. “Are you alright, my dear?” you ask him.

Gaster blinks, realizing he’s staring at you. “Yes,” he says immediately. “Yes, my angel, I’m fine . . . Are you alright?”

You nod, leaning in to leave a kiss against Gaster’s cheek. “More than alright, I’d say,” you murmur. “Should we . . . Do you want more, love?”

“If . . . you do,” Gaster says, cautiously hopeful in his tone, a small smile crossing his face. “How far do you wish to go?”

You offer Gaster a small shrug. “I’m more than happy to do anything you want.”

“The feeling is mutual, my angel,” Gaster assures.

“Well, if we’re in agreement,” you say, moving your face in closer to your partner’s. You bite your bottom lip for a moment before saying, “Shall we see where we end up then?”

His eyes wide, nothing but love in his expression, Gaster nods. “I’d like nothing more,” he whispers.

With that, you let your eyes close, Gaster following suit as you press back into a kiss.

Though your pace remains languid, you can’t help the excitement starting to bubble up inside of you. This, the moment when you and Gaster finally take the next step in your relationship, has been a very long time coming. As you part your lips and press your tongue forth into Gaster’s mouth, earning a sound of pleasure from him, a flare of arousal makes itself well known within you in turn.

The kiss begins to grow more heated, passion taking over on your part as you move a hand to cup at the back of Gaster’s skull once again, guiding him into the quicker movements carefully, but eagerly.

A thought occurs to you as Gaster grabs at your shirt again, tugging gently at the fabric in an attempt to lift it away from your skin.

You have absolutely no idea what you’re going to find under his robes.

Though Gaster keeps his head and hands uncovered for all to see, you have rarely seen him in anything other than a long-sleeved, high-neck, floor-length robe. On occasion, you’ve seen him roll up the sleeves of his robe while working, and at times when the two of you have been alone, he’s even removed the robe entirely. But underneath the robe, he wears flowing pants and a long-sleeved shirt, revealing nothing definitive about his figure.

You know his body is skeletal. But he also has a tongue, and more than once, you’ve seen him cut himself on equipment, and to your surprise, he can bleed. Not to mention when you shift your body closer to his, one leg over his bony hip, the other tucking neatly between his legs, Gaster grinds down against you with an instinctual motion. And you can’t help but smile as you feel something between his legs, softer than bone, but growing harder by the second.

You don’t pretend to understand how it works. Monster biology is entrenched in magic, allowing for many things that shouldn’t be possible by human standards. But now is most certainly not the time to consider such things.

There are more pressing matters to attend to.

Gaster’s begun to grind ever so slightly against your thigh, keeping the movements as restrained as possible. To your amazement, he starts to whine softly into the kiss, his hands finally sliding past the hem of your shirt, tracing along your spine delicately. He moves as if dreadfully afraid to overstep, yet so deeply wanting for more.

You crack your eyes open ever so slightly to watch him. Gaster’s brow is furrowed, his expression painted with desperate need.

You smile.

You pull your face away from Gaster’s gently, both of you taking a moment to catch your breath. You move your hand from the back of his skull to the side of his face, running a thumb gently across the hard bone of his jaw and cheek. With a soft sigh, Gaster presses into your touch, eyes closing. He strokes along your spine, forcing his hips to slow to a stop for the time being.

“Apologies,” he murmurs, sounding meek.

You raise a brow. “What for?”

Gaster takes a deep, steadying breath. “I, uh . . . I fear my body may be a bit more eager than I’d anticipated. I hadn’t even noticed I was . . .”

You shake your head. “I don’t mind in the slightest, love,” you assure. “I’m sure . . . Well, it’s . . . been a while. For me, at least.”

Gaster hums softly, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “I’d have to say the same,” he whispers to you. “As you know.”

Neither of you has talked about your previous relationships much. There isn’t much to talk about anyway.

You’ve never heard much mention of any previous relationships from Gaster, though you know he’s had at least one partnership many years ago before becoming the Royal Scientist. Knowing how long he’s been Royal Scientist, though it’s safe to say he hasn’t been in bed with anyone in a very long time.

As for your history, not since you became serious about your work many years back have you even entertained the idea of a relationship. You’ve had a few long-term partners throughout your life, but none of them ever seemed to last. Your work was what drove most of them away. The long hours and occasionally unpredictable shifts made it difficult for most.

By that measure, Gaster has been the perfect partner. He is the only person you have ever met who not only cares about you but is also just as dedicated to your work as you are.

That said, your relationship with Gaster has been going on for a while, and you’re only just getting into bed with each other. The moment you two decided to be ‘together,’ as it were, all that time ago, you became exclusive. And while your bedroom (and Gaster’s, no doubt) has seen a bit of solo action, neither of you has been with another in quite some time.

It’s not as if this is the first time in your lives doing this.

But it is the first time the two of you have done this together. Not to mention, you’re both a little rusty.

However, as you give Gaster a little smile and laugh, moving a hand to his hip while the other eases down to tease at the knots on the front of his robe, Gaster very easily slides a hand to your waist, the other still pressed against your back. The rust shakes off. The movements are known to you both, well-practiced, ingrained, even if they were learned some time ago and haven’t been practiced as of late.

It’s a bit like falling into step, like hearing a melody and not only knowing the next movement, but doing it perfectly, almost without effort.

“May I?” you ask Gaster, tugging gently at the ties that keep his robe closed.

Gaster nods. “Please do, angel,” he murmurs, pulling his hands back, watching as your fingers work to expose him.

Though you don’t notice it, Gaster smiles at you as you untie the first of three knots that keep him covered, starting with the middle one. Your hands work with a steady determination, and in only seconds, you’ve undone the other two knots in his robe. You open it slowly, showing off, as expected, more clothes underneath.

Before you continue, Gaster sits himself up, rising off the bed for a moment to fully remove his robe and set it aside. You watch him set the garment gently on top of a drawer before he returns to bed, sitting beside you. You rise to meet him in sitting on the mattress, connecting with him in a quick kiss.

As you’re about to pull away, you feel Gaster surge closer, wanting more, not wanting it to end just yet. You smile, happy to press back against him.

Next thing you know, your bodies are pressed close again, this time as you both sit on the bed. You rise up onto your knees, now holding Gaster’s face with your hands, his fingers settling at your waist.

As you kiss, taking your time, making Gaster gasp as you once again sink your tongue into his mouth, you allow one of your hands to wander. Your fingers start to trace the collar of his loose shirt, moving steadily down. Through the fabric, you brush over his clavicle, then his sternum, then his ribs. His breath hitches when your hand circles around to grace his spine through his shirt. You run gentle fingers up and down his vertebrae as best you can, and Gaster breaks from the kiss to gasp. His hands fly to your shoulders for a grip as you tease the sensitive spot, his face buried against your shoulder.

“Right there, hmm?” you ask.

Gaster nods quickly into your shirt. “Y-yes, my angel,” he whispers, unable to hide the slight tremble in his voice.

“More?”

“Please.”

You run your fingers along Gaster’s spine again, and he arches almost involuntarily, clinging to you as best he can.

“God’s above, you’re sensitive,” you tell him, letting your eyes wander down to his crotch, a smile crossing your lips as you notice the bulge in his pants.

Gaster shudders slightly. “I, hahh, can’t help it,” he whispers. “I-I’ve found that I, ahh, have a-always been, mm, sensitive.”

“Is that so?” you murmur, honing in on a particularly sensitive spot, deliberately drawing out the gentle circling of your fingers against Gaster’s vertebra. “Lucky me.”

At that, you get a low moan from your partner, his grip on your shoulders tightening slightly. “A-Angel,” he begs.

You decide to give him some grace, moving your hand away from his spine before he gets too worked up. Gaster sighs with relief, his body melting against yours.

“That wasn’t too much, was it?” you ask, just to be sure.

Inhaling deeply, raising his head to look at you, Gaster grins. “No,” he assures. “You would have k-known if it was. I would have told you.”

You nod. “Good . . . Do you want more?”

Gaster nods slowly. “So long as the feeling is mutual,” he says. “If I may be so forward, I would very much like to lose some more of our clothes.”

“That sounds doable,” you say with a smirk, leaning back from Gaster slightly. You reach for your shirt, pulling it up over your head in an easy movement, leaving your chest covered with only a simple sports bra. You set the shirt aside on the side of the bed simply. Looking up, you smile, watching as Gaster very slowly finishes removing his shirt as well, his gaze returning to you. You catch him glancing down at your chest for a moment before his eyes focus on your face.

You can’t help but laugh. With a groan of embarrassment, Gaster quickly covers his face with his hands. “Gods above, I apologize," he says, sounding genuinely flustered.

“What for, love?” you ask with a smile, reaching up and moving his hands from his face. “As if I haven’t also been stealing glances,” you assure him. “I expect you to look.” Still holding his hands, you guide them until they brush against your clavicle. “And touch, if you’d like.”

Gaster leans in closer to you, letting his hands move up to your shoulders, then over past them. “You are going to be the death of me,” he whispers. His fingers trace along your shoulder blades, one sinking down to your lower back to keep you close, the other returning to your collarbone.

“I’d hope not,” you say, your hands falling to his hips.

“Perhaps just a little death then,” Gaster remarks. He plays with one of the wide straps of your sports bra, studying it for a moment before raising his gaze. “May I?”

You nod. “Please do.

Delicately, Gaster slides both of his hands to the bottom of the garment, tugging at the sturdy elastic. He eases it off your body with slow, assured ease, and your arms rise so he can remove it from you entirely. He sets it down carefully, neatly. He is in no rush.

You watch as his gaze lingers on your chest for a moment before his eyes meet yours, seeking assurance that he’s not out of line. You smile. It’s all the assurance he needs.

“If I could,” you murmur, your hands coming to rest on his legs. You tug ever so slightly at his pants. Gaster’s posture straightens, his breath hitching slightly.

He nods. “So long as I may return the favor.”

“Of course,” you say, getting to work.

For a few unhurried seconds, you both begin to undo the buttons and zippers of each other’s work pants. You take your time, letting your fingers linger, though you restrain yourself, focused on getting your partner out of the last of his clothes. Gaster obediently pulls his hands back from your undone pants once you finish. He rises to his knees when you guide him to, allowing you to ease his pants off his hips and down to his thighs. He wears nothing underneath, you notice, your eyes lingering on the relatively normal-looking phallus standing erect at his pelvis.

When your eyes find their way back to his face, Gaster gives you a little knowing smirk. You return the expression, moving with a hum off the edge of the bed so you can get your pants the rest of the way off.

“Can I be honest?” you say, bending over gracelessly to rid yourself of your work clothes.

Gaster nods. “Please do.”

“I was almost expecting some kind of glowing magic creation to be between those legs of yours.”

Gaster chuckles, adjusting so he can remove his pants as well. “No,” he sighs. “Though I suppose I could hypothetically manifest something of the sort if I were . . . otherwise lacking.” You smile at him, watching the gears start to turn in his head. “I may have to look into that,” he says.

“Some other time,” you say, hooking your thumbs under the edges of your underwear. “I believe we’re in the middle of something.”

Gaster’s attention is brought back to you immediately as you begin to move. He lets himself stare as you bend at the waist with intent, smirking slightly as you slide your last piece of clothing down to your ankles. “Goodness,” he murmurs as you step forward.

He moves to the edge of the bed, taking in your form, unclothed as you are. You allow yourself to do the same, looking him up and down as you slowly make your way to him. Eventually, you come to a stop standing between Gaster’s legs as he stares up at you with nothing short of awe. You smile, watching his chest rise and fall with careful breaths, his eyes wide. He raises his hands up to your sides, running his fingertips down to your waist, then hips, then thighs. Your breath hitches slightly when he leans forward and presses a kiss against your skin, just below your sternum. You rest your hands on Gaster's shoulders, eagerly watching as he continues trailing kisses down your front, moving above your navel, then down past it.

Gaster only pauses when he can lean no lower, leaving a final kiss far below your waistline.

He sits up, staring at you with want, still gripping your thighs in his hands.

You smile at him. “What do you want?” you ask, softly.

“I want to taste you,” he says without hesitation.

Your eyes widen, your breath hitching at Gaster’s forwardness. The thought alone sends a rush through your body, your mind suddenly racing with the image.

“Please, angel,” he whispers, his voice soaked in longing as he squeezes your thighs gently. “I-is that alright?”

“Of course, love,” you say quickly, eagerly. “How do you want me?”