Chapter Text
The neon sign above Ember’s Bar buzzed and sputtered like it was choking on its own light. Red squinted up at it, cigarette clenched between his teeth, and muttered, “Figures. Even the sign’s givin’ up tonight.”
He shoved the door open with his shoulder. Warm air rolled out- beer, grease, and a faint tinge of ozone from Ember’s fire magic. The place was half-full, a low hum of chatter under the scratchy old jukebox. Perfect background noise for someone who wanted to drink alone and complain about his “brother” without witnesses who cared.
Ember looked up from behind the counter. The flames of his head flickered a dull purple; he didn’t need to ask what kind of mood Red was in.
“Machine give you trouble again?” his voice rumbled, smooth but tired.
“Trouble? Nah. Catastrophe,” Red grunted, sliding onto his usual stool. His jacket rustled as he sat. “Sans swore the calibrator just needed a tune-up. Next thing I know, there’s at least six damn universes jammed in one dimension like a clown car from hell.”
Ember poured something dark and left it without comment.
Red stared at the glass a second before downing half. “I swear, one day that lazy bastard’s gonna open a portal straight t’ my patience an’ drain it dry.”
Ember only hummed. “You always say that, but you go back to fixing it anyways.”
“Yeah, yeah. Guess that’s the curse of havin’ a conscience.” He stubbed a cigarette out, muttering. “Shoulda left it in the void where I found it.”
The door opened again. Red didn’t look up right away- just another late-night customer. Then Ember’s tone shifted slightly. “Evenin’ stranger,”
The newcomer’s boots clicked against the wood floor, steady and unhurried.
Red finally glanced over.
Human.
Leather jacket, storm-tired eyes, and an expression that said don’t test me. You didn’t seem the bar-hopping type, but maybe that was what drew Ember’s curiosity. You took the stool two down from Red’s and asked for whatever was the strongest. Your voice carried, low and dry, like you’d run out of time for pleasantries a long time ago.
Ember chuckled, started mixing something smoky. Red tried to mind his own business- but he caught himself glancing sideways anyway. What was a human doing in a monster bar? You were tapping a finger against the counter, eyes distant but sharp.
Ember slid your drink over. “First time in?”
“Yeah.” You took a cautious sip and winced. “Tastes like regret.”
Ember chuckled at that. “You’ll fit right in.”
Red snorted before he could stop himself. You turned your head, one eyebrow arched. “Something funny, bones?”
He froze mid-swig. “..what’d ya just call me?”
“Bones,” you repeated, deadpan. “You’ve got that whole grumpy skeleton vibe going on.”
Ember’s flame flickered brighter. “Careful. They bite.”
Red leaned an elbow on the counter, smirk lazy but dangerous. “Cute. You always talk to strangers like you’re tryna get punched? ‘er ‘m I just lucky?”
You shrugged, “Depends. Are you the punching type or just complain?”
That earned a bark of laughter from Ember and a piercing glare from Red.
“Yer mouth writes checks that your bones can’t cash, sweetheart.”
You grinned without warmth. “Good thing I brought my own account.”
Ember mumbled something about the furniture being fragile before he drifted off to the other side of the bar.
For the rest of the night, you and Red traded glances like knives. He’d grumble whenever Ember would have a chance to chat on the side, you tossing in comments just sharp enough to illicit irritation from the skeleton.
Somehow, you didn’t leave, and somehow he didn’t stop talking. When you finally pushed your glass away, he caught himself watching you stand.
“Ya gotta name, sweetheart?”
“You first.”
Red thought for a moment. It wouldn’t hurt, after all, when would y’all ever meet again? “..Sans. You?”
You smirked while making a tutting motion with your finger. “If you need to curse at me, just yell ‘hey human.’ That’ll work fine.”
He huffed, slightly in irritation and slightly humored. “Yeah, figures.”
___________________________________________________________________________________
A week went before you saw him again.
You didn’t plan to. You were just craving greasy bar food and something to drown out the thoughts, your feet just guiding you the way the whole time to the one place that didn’t blast dance tracks or serve you mixed drinks with umbrellas. So, when the bell over the door gave its little tired chime, you didn’t expect your stomach to drop.
He was here. Again. Sat in the same exact stool, almost as if he hadn’t moved from the spot if not for the grease stain on his sleeve and the faint scent of oil that clung to him, like he had been elbow deep in machinery yet again. You didn’t know the specifics, but you heard enough about some “annoyin’ as all hell” brother and this machine that needed to get fixed to know that may have been the case. He glanced up, recognition flickering across his sockets before he rolled his eyes.
“Aw, great. My favorite human conversational hazard.”
You slid onto a stool two seats away yet again. “Wow, and here I thought this place didn’t take reservations.”
Ember looked between the two of you with that weary amusement reserved for regulars who should really know better. “If you’re going to trade insults, at least buy something first.”
You raised a hand lazily, “Same as last time, only less regret.”
Red snorted. “Good luck with that, doll.”
The next half hour passed in a rhythm you both pretended not to notice. He muttered at his drink about faulty trans-dimensional stabilizers. You would throw in one-liners whenever he paused for breath. Somewhere between round one and two, you realized he wasn’t just angry.. He was tired. The kind of bone-deep exhaustion you recognized too well.
When you stood to leave, he surprised you with a, “hey,” while not quite looking at you. “You ever fix somethin’ that everyone else keeps breakin’, over an’ over?”
You blinked, your response coming without hesitation. “Only myself.”
He huffed, a second halfway to a laugh. “Yeah, figures.”
___________________________________________________________________________________
Three nights later, you walked in again, expecting the usual low hum of quiet chatter, the faint smell of smoke and grease, and maybe Red muttering to himself in the corner.
He was there, of course, perched on his stool, arms crossed, glaring at his drink like it had personally insulted him. You plopped down, only one stool between y’all this time, already bracing yourself.
“..You’re late,” he muttered, not even looking at you.
“And you’ve got the world’s worst resting face.” you said, voice already full of exhaustion, but you weren’t one to back down.
“and you’ve got the world’s worst sense of self-preservation.”
“Cute. You practicing your people skills?”
Red finally glanced up, sockets narrowing dangerously at you. “You’re real funny today.”
You met his glare evenly. “And you’re real grumpy every fucking day.”
The tension snapped taut between you, Ember shooting you both a look that begged y’all to not start today. It was too late, of course- the spark already caught.
The insults started off mild, then escalated quickly into sarcastic jabs, turning into biting comments, voiced rising in rhythm like you were both trying to out-sass the other.
“you think yer hot shit for a human who trips over their attitude,” Red grumbled.
“At least I don’t hide constantly smell like a work in progress gone wrong.” you shot back.
That one made Ember’s flames hiss in warning, knowing that was one of the major things Red complained about, but before Red could properly retort, a deep, rumbling voice cut through the argument.
“Would you two just shut the hell up already?!”
You both turned at once to see who had the audacity to interrupt their verbal fight.
A massive monster slouched at the far end of the bar- Aaron, you’d heard his name once before. He was.. well, unforgettable.
Upper body of a shredded stallion; glossy brown coat, square jaw, neck thick with muscle, and arms that looked like they could curl a small car. His lower half was a glimmering aquamarine fish tail that flicked idly, scales catching the dim light. His entire torso was a road map of flexed muscle- abs stacked like a protein bar pyramid- and he looked perpetually smug about it.
Aaron sneered. “You’re both loud as hell. Nobody wants to hear your couples’ therapy session.”
You blinked, offense overriding your features. “Couples- excuse me?!”
Red’s sockets darkened. “..say that again.”
Aaron grinned, toothy and mean. “You heard me. You sound like a pair of drunk lovebirds in denial. Shut up or get out.”
“Sounds like you’ve got a bone to pick, pal,” Red growled.
Aaron leaned back, crossing his thick arms. “Cute. A bite-sized skeleton trying to sound tough. What’re you going to do, clack your teeth at me?”
You smirked as you leaned back on your elbow. “You’re awfully brave for someone whose entire lower half is sushi.”
The bar went silent for half a second, used to Red starting fights with others, but a human dared to start something with that specific monster? Insane.
Aaron’s tail slapped the ground hard enough to rattle the floorboards, which finally alerted Ember who had went to the back a bit that something was going on.. but he wasn’t here yet, and you were itching to really stress even if it meant getting messed up by the Michelin Seahorse.
Red’s grin sharpened. “Guess that hit a sour spot, fish stick.”
Aaron lunged forward, surprisingly fast for someone with a tail instead of legs, and threw a punch that connected clean with a drunken Red’s jaw.
Red staggered back, sockets wide- and before he could recover, you instinctively shoved yourself in between them, giving the seahorse a punch to his neck. “Fuck off!”
“What the hell is wrong with you?!” you yelled. “I mean besides the fact that you look like Poseidon tried to make a cowboy and gave up instantly.”
Aaron fumed, practically neighing in anger as Red sneered at you. “I don’ need no damn human steppin’ in fer me!”
“Who the hell is stepping in for you?!” You shot back, blindly reaching for whatever you could, grabbing a bottle and tossing it at the seahorse who started to talk.
“Adorable, you two really are-” he bottle crashes against his chest, Aaron flexing said pecs annoyingly, though he did hiss at the pieces that cut or stuck in him.
Aaron recovered quickly before swinging again, but Red disappeared from its impact this time, sweeping the fish tail out of the way with a sharp kick while you stepped in and cracked him across the face with a bar tray. Aaron roared, tail thrashing, knocking over stools as you ducked and Red slammed his fist into Aaron’s ribs.
“still think we’re adorable?” Red sarcastically snaps.
Aaron snarled, grabbing for him- only for you to hook your arm around his neck from behind, trying to pull him back. “Stop- thrashing- damn it! You overgrown mer-horse!”
He reared back, flinging you forward, and Red caught you mid-stumble before using the momentum to drive his knee into Aaron’s chest. The impact sent Aaron crashing into a table with a wet thud, scattering glass everywhere.
Ember’s voice roared across the chaos, his flames flaring with crimson at the center. “GET THE FUCK OUT, ALL THREE OF YOU BEFORE I CALL THE POLICE!”
Red’s breathing was ragged, eye sockets still glowing red-hot. Aaron groaned, face planted in the broken remains of his drink. Ember’s glare could’ve melted steel.
Red growled, “shit,” under his breath- then grabbed your arm before you could say a word.
“Wait, what-”
There was a flash of red light before just plain darkness, nothing to be seen or heard, but you could feel the world bend and twist- then the world blinked back into existence with a crack and a lurch, your stomach catching up half a second late. The smoke, noise, and flickering lights of Ember’s Bar were replaced by the hush of a city park at night- wet grass under your boots, the air cool and faintly metallic.
You staggered, blinking. “What the hell- did you just teleport us?”
Red stood a few feet away, hands shoved deep in his jacket pockets, expression still stuck somewhere between pissed off and unimpressed. “yer welcome.”
“You kidnapped me.” you snapped, brushing at your sleeve like the teleport left residue.
“nah,” he grumbled, glancing off toward the street lamps, “saved us both a night in jail. Don’t mention it.”
You folded your arms. “I had that handled.”
He huffed, a sharp puff of sound that might’ve been a laugh if he weren’t so annoyed. “sure ya did. I saw the look on yer face right before fish boy threw that punch.”
“oh, come on! I was fine!”
“you duck like a drunk pigeon.”
You snorted despite yourself. “At least I didn’t need saving from the seafood special.”
“Hey, I had him right where I wanted him.”
“While your ass was planted on the ground?”
“That was strategy.”
You cracked a grin, one that pulled an involuntary twitch from the corner of his mouth.
Silence hung a moment. The park lamps buzzed softly, throwing long shadows across the cracked path. You found yourself exhaling the leftover adrenaline, shoulders relaxing.
“He really did look ridiculous, though,” you said, voice low, half-laughing. “A;; that muscle, just to get taken down by a tray and a skeleton with anger issues.”
Red finally gave a grunt that may have sounded more amused than angry. “Yeah, looked like he skipped leg day- guess that tail don’t count.”
That earned him a genuine laugh from you, and his sockets flicked toward you- wary, like he wasn’t expecting it.
It lingered, that moment of shared absurdity, until it faded into awkward quiet.
Finally, he sighed. “guess I should get goin’.” Red shifted his weight, glancing at you from the corner of his socket. “ya got a place to crash?”
It wasn’t an invite, but more as if he was telling you to go home as well. You hesistated, however, just a beat too long. “Yeah, I’ll figure it out.”
He didn’t seem to buy it, but he didn’t push. “Right. Fine. Try not to start anymore fights without me.”
You smirked, “Oh, so I can start a fight as long as you’re there, huh? Wouldn’t dream of it without my one-way ticket outta there.”
He looked like he wanted to say something else- maybe an insult, maybe a half-hearted warning- but whatever it was, he just exhaled instead and gave a small nod.
“see ya around, troublemaker.”
And with a flicker of red light, he was gone.
The park fell quiet again, the sound of distant traffic faint beyond the trees. You stood there a long moment, staring at the spot where Red had been.
You told yourself you were just catching your breath. That’s why you stayed- to calm down, to think.
Not because there was nowhere for you to go.
The bench nearby was cold but not unbearable. You sat, pulling your jacket tighter, watching the fog of your breath rise and fade under the streetlights.
“See you around,” you muttered under your breath, half to the dark, half to yourself.
It wasn’t like you expected to actually see him again, especially now that you weren’t going to be able to show face at Ember’s for a bit.
But the night had a way of making promises people didn’t mean to keep.