Work Text:
“Welcome to your new home!”
Red glowered at the pasty meatsack that drove them all the way out to this pastoral hellscape in the middle of ‘god who the fuck knows’. They passed nothing but miles of hills covered in crops and grazing animals on the mind numbing, gut juggling ride here. Spending the past five hours in the back of some piece of junk truck that rattled across every pebble and pothole was far from the most endearing introduction to the long drives that Edge once fantasized about as a teenager. There was no wind blowing through anyone’s nonexistent hair. Just a nauseating introduction to why dirt back roads suck and why open windows can’t compensate for shitty AC on a sweltering summer afternoon.
One would think skeletons wouldn’t care about the heat, and to be honest, if it was just that, Red would have just shrugged it off like a trip to Hotland. But no. The heat made the air feel almost too thick to breathe, and the constant jiggling in combination with difficulty breathing and the past WEEK of pure stress…well, it left him and his brother curled over, sweating, and craving the familiar chill of Snowdin.
Meatsack opened the back doors of the truck and smiled at them, his teeth too white and his grin too wide—everything about his fat, fleshy face entirely too punchable.
Red curled and uncurled his hands, cracking his knuckles in a languid motion to hide his agitation. He returned the meatsack’s smile with his own, every sharkish tooth on display, his golden falsie glinting in the sunlight. The human coughed and glanced away, probably discomforted by the razor-blade reception his comment received. Edge sighed and climbed out, holding himself with a care and caution that made Red’s smile fade into neutrality. Back home, any show of weakness would mark you as easy prey and get you on the shanking shortlist.
But they weren’t back home…were they?
Red slowly climbed out of the truck and drank in the sight of their new prison. Their cage without visible bars or barriers. Oh, sure, they could technically leave, and they technically didn’t have to come. But when you’re outnumbered millions to two and one of you had one HP and the other had his ribs caved in…you kept your head low and adapted. Did what you were told. Played the part of poor, lost little monsters that just finally crawled out of the Underground, all confused and hurt and needing help. Then you smiled when they handed you a little voucher and told you to not worry one bit, that the monsters’ ambassador had negotiated for compensation and now each had a little plot of land and a roof over their head.
But with no money outside of a small government stipend, no means of transportation and just no clue or connections…they were trapped here for the foreseeable future. No way home, and nothing but an endless, unfamiliar sky as their reward for making it to the Surface.
“Follow me. I’ll give you the grand tour of the property!”
Meatsack had their bags thrown over his shoulders. Not that they owned anything beyond the clothes on their back and what the humans gave them in their care packages. With his hands stuffed into the pockets of his leather jacket, Red followed, kicking stones with his ratty sneakers and keeping an eye on his brother and their surroundings.
It wasn’t much to look at. Neglected farmland. Some old buildings that needed repair. Apparently the barn and chicken coop were in fair condition. Needed patching before winter, but good enough to keep the rain out for now. There was a tool shed that had ‘everything they needed to get started’ out here. Goodie. And a house. If one could call it that. The aged porch creaked and groaned in protest as Meatsack scuttled up to unlock the front door. It needed some manhandling, but it popped open, revealing a hastily cleaned interior.
Everything was made of wood. Wood floors. Wood paneling walls. Wood cabinets. Not a spec of paint to break the single-tone of lumber that adorned every empty inch of the space. Even the sparse furniture matched to the point of it almost being a rustic eyesore. At least somebody had the common sense to throw a rug on the floor and a patterned cloth on the table, even if they were in hideous pastel hues.
“It aint much, but there’s a carpenter in town that’s real good at expanding these little houses. Heard the locals haven’t had any real complaints about their work. So if ya get tired of sleeping in the loft, you can get a couple bedrooms added, easy peasy. Just need money for the labor and materials, or heck, learn to do it yourself. Couple of the monster folks did that too when they moved here. And there’s a lumber mill none too far from here where you can get wood.”
Red was very close to popping a hole in the meatsack and watching the blood drain out like a gorey water balloon, but he refrained, choosing instead to look around the small, uncomfortable space. Edge peered out the windows and fussed with a curtain, visibly struggling with the deeply ingrained instinct to board up the pretty glass to better protect them from Exp Hunters while they slept. There was troubled yearning in his eyelights. The sun was so bright. Too bright. Everything they dreamed of and blinding. Could they really blot it out now that they’ve gotten what every monster dreamed of seeing one day?
Edge pulled the curtains shut, an errant beam peeking through. He stared. Red caught a slight trembling in his hands. Then he forced out a short breath and pivoted away, his healing injuries covered by borrowed clothes but evident to Red’s trained eye. Once Meatsack was gone, Red would have to remind him about going soft and being reckless. They needed to keep their guard up and that included not showing anyone they were injured, even if Edge was one stiff breeze away from a short coma.
“This here is the kitchen. It’s got all the basics and is stocked up with staples. Should getcha by for a while.” Meatsack continued his tour. “There’s a large pantry. Perfect if you wanna do any canning or preserves for over winter. There’s a chest freezer in the storage room for anything you butcher. Great for if you raise up a pig or a flock of for-meat chickens.” The house was pretty standard when it came to amenities. There was a washer (space and hookups for a dryer but there were drying racks and a clothesline outside). The bathroom had a shower-tub combo and a toilet. And apparently the two single beds in the loft and the lumpy couch in the modest living room were donations from nearby residents when they heard a couple of monsters were moving in. “Don’t be surprised if folks show up at your door and offer help. Especially with how late in the growing season you two got here. People will be bringing food and supplies and all sorts of stuff to make sure you get through your first winter. Then again, maybe you wouldn’t be surprised at all, bein’ monsterfolk and all. Kindness and compassion is a way of life.” He chuckled.
It took another hour before Meatsack left, giving them directions into town and advising them to ask their neighbors for help getting there if they needed anything. Walking all the way there would be quite the time-consuming affair, and they didn’t have a horse or a car to make it faster.
When his awful truck finally pulled away, kicking up dust and dirt in its wake, Red pulled a mustard packet out of his pocket and chewed it open. Then he got to work scoping out every inch of this angel forsaken place, restless and needing something to soothe the bubbling frustration burning the inside of his skull. Edge did much of the same, though slower, reluctantly closing all the curtains and inspecting every crevice for cameras or other devices that could be used to spy on them.
Red had found a toolkit and was in the middle of repairing and reinforcing the locks on the shitty front door when the first interlopers arrived. He clenched his teeth, readying himself to snarl at some nosy fucks, but he faltered when he caught sight of their faces. Holy shit. The tall one looked like a smiley, pansy version of Edge in dorky overalls and the short one…
(The Judge shivered. A flicker of recognition as white eyelights met crimson. The unmistakable feeling of Knowing and being Seen trespassing through his psyche.)
He blinked. Hard.
“GREETINGS NEW NEIGHBOR! I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS AND THIS IS MY BROTHER SANS. WE HAVE BROUGHT A CUSTOMARY WELCOMING GIFT IN THE FORM OF MY FAMOUS SPAGHETTI!” Papyrus held out a glass dish, grinning like a happy idiot as they both came to a stop at the front step of the porch.
There were many appropriate things to say in this instant. What came out of Red’s mouth instead was: “well damn, congrats on the record for the fastest i’ve ever been propositioned by a stranger. at least the humans waited to know my name before tryna get in my pants.”
Papyrus flushed orange in an instant before clearing his throat primly. Sans looked less impressed. Red smirked. What? He thought he was funny. There had to be some humor found in this shitty situation.
“I, ER, BELIEVE THERE HAS BEEN SOME MISCOMMUNICATION. THIS IS A SPAGHETTI OF NEIGHBORLY COMRADERY.” When Red didn’t move to take it, Papyrus awkwardly set it down on the porch and nudged it in Red’s direction. “NO PROPOSITIONING OR PANTS TAKING OFF-ING INVOLVED.”
Red actually snorted at that, “aight. now fuck off. i’m busy. so unless yer have a pack of smokes i can bum, go away.” He began to work on the door again when—
“apologize to my bro and you can have’em.”
He slowly looked back over at the brothers. Sans stood there with a lazy smile, wearing a rumpled hoodie over his own overalls like the world’s worst fashion statement. In his extended hand was a crumpled pack of cigarettes that’d seen better days.
“WHY DO YOU EVEN HAVE THOSE? YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE QUITTING.”
“what? i’m throwin’ the guy a bone and givin’ them away,” Sans quipped back with brittle, faux innocence. “since apparently our new neighbor needs them more than i do.” There was a hint of warning in his voice. Subtle. Cute. The face-stealing softie was trying to be threatening. Good luck judging a Judge pal. Red was already in hell. He swiped the pack of smokes because he deserved a break after dealing with all this bullshit, and Sans already named his price.
“sorry for telling ya to fuck off,” he said cheerfully. “but i really aint feelin’ the neighborly spirit.”
“...YOU DID JUST MOVE IN. I SUPPOSE YOU MUST BE TIRED FROM THE RIDE HERE AND SORTING OUT WHAT NEEDS TO BE DONE.” Papyrus shifted a bit in that frettsome way Edge did when he couldn’t restrain his positively juvenile urge to be helpful. Guy was too nice for his own good. Red did his best to kick the shit out of that goody-goody attitude when Edge was a kid, but then the fucker got taller than him and forcefully drug Red out of the gutter he tried to dust in. Being part of the Guard helped refocus that helpful energy, but Red bandaged up too many needlessly broken bones over the years when Edge put helping some ungrateful rat over his own well-being.
Seeing that expression, that body-language, familiar and just…pathetic…Red found himself miserably weak in the face of it. He looked away and rummaged in his pockets for a well-used lighter and inhaled deeply as soon at the end started to burn. Fuck yeaaaaah.
“S—RED. WHO ARE THESE TWO?” Edge emerged from the house, as upright and formidable as he can manage. Which was a pretty good show if you didn’t know all the little signs of him being in pain. Such as that tiny little slip up when he spoke. Probably for the best they stuck with false identities when filling out paperwork. Wouldn’t it be messy to deal with the details of being the second set of Sans and Papyrus Skeleton brothers processed through the waiver system? He’d call these squishy doppelgangers name thieves but it was very evident that Red and Edge were the trespassers here.
Who knew that all it took to escape the Underground was getting jumped by a pack of feral Ravagers and a very, very desperate shortcut? The Tyrant liked the monsters driven crazy by their EXP exterminated now and then when they became a nuisance and sent the Royal Guard to do clean up. And like a psycho he assigned Edge to be on a patrol alone as some kind of sick ‘promotion’ test for the Captain’s ‘star pupil’. Red smelled bullshit from a mile away and stalked Edge on that patrol and watched his brother be a badass…until he was ambushed by too many for one guard to handle, and they started crushing him inside his armor.
Customs called for Edge to be left for dead. Even if he survived, he failed his assignment, and would get knocked off by the next monster that decided they wanted an ego boost. But Red heard the snapping of bones from across the clearing, saw the light leaving his baby brother’s sockets…and was at his side in a blink. Red knew he fucked a few of the Ravagers up with his own barrage of bones, but he was just focused on getting Edge out of danger. Fuck this test. Fuck Edge’s desire to follow the Tyrant’s bullshit rules about doing this patrol alone to prove himself worthy. Fuck everyone and everything. He grabbed Edge and without even a destination in mind beyond ‘safety’, he ripped them through space and time itself…and landed them in the middle of what used to be Snowdin…and had become a research zone for humans studying the Underground. He’d have probably fucked up some scientists if he didn’t immediately black out from exerting enough magic that his own soul quivered in his chest, as if on the verge of shattering to pieces.
He woke up in a hospital, and Edge on life support. Guy was tough. But being yeeted through the fabric of the universe at velocity didn’t agree with the bone soup that his ribcage had become.
Then there was paperwork and questions and a waiver shoved in his face that said ‘Wonderful Life Program” and now here they were. Edge pieced together like a shattered vase and barely able to stand, and Red without a damn clue about how farming works…stuck on a piece of land they were supposed to cultivate and call home. Other options weren’t even really presented. Probably because the humans didn’t want these strange, extra scary monsters integrating into their society. He’d rather have a cardboard box on the street and a chance at a mechanic gig than this. But choices were made in the name of self-preservation.
So here they were having a conversation with the soft mirror image of themselves.
“these two are our neighbors. they were just leaving.”
“I WOULD LOVE TO STAY AND HAVE A CHAT OR TEA WITH A FELLOW, EXCEPTIONALLY HANDSOME SKELETON, BUT YOUR BROTHER HAS INDEED INSISTED WE PART FOR THE DAY.” Papyrus sighed.
“...HANDSOME?” Edge echoed.
“WHY YES. YOU ARE A CLEARLY AN ADONIS AMONGST SKELETONS. IT IS A SHAME ABOUT THE PANTS…”
“I DO PREFER THEM BETTER FITTED BUT I HAVEN’T A CHANCE TO MAKE ANY ADJUSTMENTS.” He tugged at the secondhand, oversized denim that swamped his skinny frame. “AND LEATHER WOULDN’T BE PRACTICAL FOR FARM WORK I HAVE BEEN TOLD.”
“YOU SEW?”
“SOME. YES.”
“TALENTED AND HANDSOME!”
“bro…” Sans mumbled.
“WHAT? IT IS NOT OFTEN I MEET SOMEONE WHO IS NEARLY AS GREAT AS I. AND COMPLIMENTS ARE NICE. YOU SHOULD TRY IT SOMETIMES, SANS. IT’S CALLED BEING FRIENDLY AND PERSONABLE.”
“is that why you told undyne last week that she is very talented at setting her house on fire?”
“IT DOES TAKE TALENT TO DO THAT MORE THAN ONCE WITHOUT INTENDING TO DO SO! SHE IS A TRUE VIRTUOSO AT MAKING FIRE FOR A FISH MONSTER.” Papyrus paused and waved. “YOU APPEAR TO BE AROUND MY SIZE, PERHAPS FOR GYFTMAS THIS YEAR I CAN OBTAIN A PAIR OF PROPER FITTED…HM…HOW WOULD YOU PUT IT SANS? LEATHER DADDY PANTS?”
“...i am going to forget you ever said those words in that order so i do not have to try to bleach out my sockets.”
Papyrus rolled his eyelights, “AS I WAS SAYING…IT WAS NICE MEETING YOU TWO, WE’LL BE SURE TO STOP AROUND AGAIN SOON!” And without hesitation he scooped Sans up under one arm and walked off with him like a sack of potatoes that needed to be taken to market. When they were firmly out of sight, Red and Edge traded looks.
“they’re gonna be a problem.”
“THERE’S WORSE THINGS THAN FRIENDLY NEIGHBORS…”
Edge would live to regret those words somewhere between the fifth and sixth ‘friendly neighbor’ that ‘just had to stop by’ that day.
They had so many dishes of food thrust at them that one would think they were high-end prostitutes in the red light district that everybody wanted to keep as their own personal comfort companion. Then there were the other gifts… A goat monster that looked uncannily like the Tyrant but pudgy, blonde and wearing a floral shirt, drove up in a rusty green truck he could barely squeeze into and brought them pallets starters for crops that could be transplanted into their own fields as well as flowers to ‘pretty up the front garden’ for some reason. A goat lady arrived as he was leaving, glared at him, and brought with her…a cow. A whole freaking dairy cow. Which she left in their pasture after insisting they should keep her for the milk. Both of them tried to give the brothers pies.
Undyne’s less scarred up twin wandered over with Alphys. The fish bitch offered a burnt fish casserole of some kind while grinning, and Alphys held out a basket of fresh eggs. Next thing they knew, the pair were bringing in a couple of chickens and telling them how to use the incubator.
More and more people showed up with things and advice. It was insufferable!
Come the next day, Red woke up to people on his property…tilling the damn dirt and tending the animals. Like it was NORMAL. They were just so happy to help a new neighbor. It made his bones crawl and he fought down every instinct to start stabbing everything that moved. Edge cautiously reminded him that they didn’t have a clue how farming worked and how this was a good opportunity to learn more about the people around them and to make alliances.
Also, if they showed interest and competency, maybe they’d LEAVE THEM ALONE.
Red learned that day that he knew jack shit about farm work. Some of the helpful monsters gave him pitying looks when he struggled to even till a small portion of dirt in his fields. (He had 1HP and the stamina to match. But he could kill a man before he could blink. Everyone had their strengths…). Collecting eggs and feeding chickens was easy enough…and he was almost kicked in the head by the cow when someone showed him how to milk one. Edge would be better at all of this, but he was resting as much as his neuroticism would let him so that Red didn’t end up tying him to a chair.
Of course this meant he slept a whole four hours before pacing around the house, cleaning and trying to stay indoors as much as he could so he didn’t strain himself. He fretted about his cat, the people they left behind and the fact that he was near useless like this. If they were assaulted, he’d probably pass out in the middle of trying to summon a bone attack. Red came home that night aching, disoriented and exhausted, to Edge setting the table for dinner and adjusting the plates centimeters into the perfect place. He always did get high strung when anxious and laid up.
“HOW DID IT GO?”
“like shit.”
“I SHOULD BE OUT THERE—”
“no, yer keepin’ yer ass in here, healing, until yer don’t look like a teapot somebody dropped on the floor.”
“IT IS MY FAULT WE ARE HERE. IF YOU DID NOT HAVE TO SAVE ME. IF I WAS STRONGER—”
“oh shut the fuck up.” A pause. They watched each other for a long moment. Red let out a long sigh, “we’re here. we’ll figure it out. not like we can go back home.”
“IF YOU GOT US HERE MAYBE…”
“papyrus.”
Edge trailed off at the sound of his name and his shoulders slumped, “PEOPLE DEPEND ON ME BACK HOME, SANS. I NEED TO GO BACK.”
“you need to heal. that’s what you need. fuck everyone else.”
Dinner was a quiet affair that night.
How did one not throttle one’s neighbors?
Red felt the urge every single day for the next month as people just wouldn’t piss off. Even AFTER he figured out how to milk a cow and take care of chickens and tend to his new crops, people invaded the property every day to just say hi or to shove more food in his face. It wasn’t even funny anymore. Papyrus was the worst offender about arriving unannounced, but at least he stopped bringing food after day one. No, instead he just arrived on the doorstep, barged in when Red wasn’t looking and chatted up Edge, who he had declared would be his best not-Undyne friend. And Edge didn’t throw his ass out for some reason! Instead he warmed up milk and chatted to him, as if they’d learn anything useful from the brazen idiot.
(Or maybe he was just lonely and bored. He really hadn’t been able to socialize much, and it was only recently that he was healed enough to even help with light farmwork.)
He was ready to rip the head off the next person he saw on his territory that wasn’t his brother when a certain shortstack showed up smoking a cigarette. Red narrowed his eyes at Sans as he left the barn and found him sitting on a few bags of feed.
“thought yer brother said yer wuz quittin’.”
“that was before multiverse theory decided to prove its existence. gotta cope with the existential dread somehow.” Sans blew a smoke ring. “you want a ride into town?”
“why? you offerin’?”
“maybe.”
“pass.”
“folks have been real nice, pal. mebbe you should return the favor by going into town and being friendly back. say hi. shake a few hands.”
Red snorted, “yer picked the weirdest crusade to stand behind. neighborly niceness? what is this? preschool?”
Sans slipped off the feed sacks, “no.” He dropped the cig and snuffed it under his heel. “just some advice.” His smile was impassive.
“that a threat?”
“didn’t realize ‘love thy neighbor’ was threatening. i’ll keep that in my pocket for the next murderer i meet.”
Red flashed a hard, razor smile and edged closer to Sans. Got up in his space. Breathed in those last dredges of dissipating smoke. “so that’s yer angle. yer want more eyes on me. awe, don’t like a wolf amongst all yer cute little sheep, sansy~? think i’m gonna…gobble them up?” He snapped his jaws and jeered.
Sans’ expression twitched, “dunno. you’re the one with all that lv. you don’t get that much by accident, pal.”
They stared at each other, the tension thick enough to choke on if you deepthroated it. Red snorted and tried to walk past. Sans darted a hand out. Suddenly, they were stumbling in some random back alleyway that Red didn’t recognize. Red whirled and pinned Sans to a wall quicker than Sans could dodge, and had a bone dagger at his throat just as fast. His eyelights were pinpricks and he was breathing heavy, his aura a chilling lake one could drown in. Sans hung there as limp and lax as a kitten despite the very real danger he was in right now.
“you can put me down now,” he drawled.
“where the fuck are we, level bait?”
“town.”
Red scoffed and dropped him, just barely keeping himself from dusting the dumbass. He shook from the effort, “are ya suicidal? yer don’t just grab a guy like that.”
“i’m not dead.”
“says the one who was just accusing me of being a murderer.”
“meh, had to test those murder instincts somehow.”
Red just blinked at him, “you. are an asshole. and i’m going home.”
“true, and c’mon. seriously, stick around. if you’re going to live here, might as well get to know the town so you can, y’know, make supply runs? attend festivals and all that.”
“pretty sure nobody wants the murderer around.”
“that really got to you, huh?”
“so doth say the judge.”
Sans huffed, “look. if you proved a real threat…” Red’s soul pinged blue and he yelped as he was thrust into a wall and pinned in place by a cage of blue bones. “you’d already be dead.” He smiled and let the bullets fade and released Red’s soul. “sides. you’re my evil twin from a different dimension, you’ve got to have some of the same complexes as me. anyway, i’ll show you around.”
It was then that Red realized something.
Sans was absolutely bonkers. Stick a fork in the toaster for the thrill of it, kind of bonkers. This man had zero fucks to give and no self-preservation. One had to wonder what the hell was wrong with him and his timeline to get that way.
Red idly followed Sans out, almost entranced by his own epiphany.
Soon he was being greeted by everyone in this tiny town of monsters, hardly a human in sight. It was bustling. They passed a bakery and Asgore’s flower shop on their way down the street to Sans’ favorite spot. Red stared at the sign for a moment.
“grillby’s?”
“best burgz in town.”
“i could still shank ya for giggles and run. murderer. remember? crazy bastard.”
“could. would. should. king fuzzybuns is also a murderer but he’ll carry those sins like an albatross for the rest of his life without needin’ bounced off a wall first. you? heh. hafta wait and see.”
Red squinted at Sans then rolled his eyelights. Whatever. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Red did not actually want more notches on his knife holster. Even with his LV crawling up his throat and demanding to taste dust and blood, he found it easier to choke down the urge than to satisfy it. He shoulder-checked Sans.
The asshole smirked.
In they went into Grillby’s and Red was confronted with another, softer copy of someone he once knew. The elemental was not nearly as flashy or flamboyant, looking like an actual bartender rather than a pimp. His flames were a homey, comforting orange…
“he’s hot, aint he?” Sans quipped, elbowing him.
“yeah…smokin’, actually.”
They hopped into chairs and Sans ordered for them both, as Red didn’t have any damn money on him because SOMEONE kidnapped him. Red watched Grillby work. Man looked just as good as the one back home. Them were some toasty buns in those pants…
“gonna burn a hole in his back pockets if you keep staring.”
Red flinched, “fuck off.”
“what?”
Grillby would turn back around to give them their drinks before going into the back to cook up their orders. A bottle of ketchup for Sans, and a bottle of mustard for Red. He didn’t even flinch when asked for a condiment. Just nodded as if it was perfectly normal, and all of his customers did so. And true to Sans’ word, the burgers were awesome. Not as good as the ones back home. Those had more spice to them. But this Grillby was still a great chef, and apparently less of a cheapskate, as he let Sans put their meals on Sans’ tab without question.
As they left, Red kept glancing back over his shoulder.
“seems like someone has a reason to come back into town.”
“...tch. i’m just waitin’ for someone to come shake us down for the money yer owe him.”
“nah, he’s a cool dude. he knows i’m good for it.”
“thought he was a hot shot?”
“oh he shoots hot all right~”
Red cocked a browbone, “personal experience?”
“everybody needs to let off some steam now and then. it’s nothin’ serious. we go way back, and sometimes need a pal to lend a helping hand.”
“y’know i didn’t need to know how you casually suck off the bartender.”
“thought you were aiming for tips~”
“yer too vanilla to be givin’ me tips.”
Sans cocked his head, “and how would you know that?”
“just a feelin’ i have,” Red sassed. “...it’s gettin’ late. i need to do the evenin’ chores.”
“see you around, then?”
Red fiddled with the pack of smokes in his pocket, “don’t count on it. yer still on my shitlist.” And he stepped into an alleyway to shortcut home.
The first time Red went back into town, it was to take Edge to scope out the place. To look for that deep, dark underbelly. Its grim secrets. They were both excellent information gatherers…and when they met back up…they concluded that the dirtiest secret they found was that Asgore kept sending Toriel flowers despite them being divorced and trying to apologize for the human killing he did when they were Underground. How…scandalous?
Edge eventually got distracted by a stray cat and Red wandered into Grillby’s bar. He just wanted to bask in the comforting ambiance, but the bartender waved him over. Red sat down and offered an apologetic smile. “sorry, pal, i don’t have any cash on me. can’t even afford a mustard bottle until we figure out how to y’know…make money on the farm. just wanted to come and check out the atmosphere again.”
Grillby hummed then put said bottle on the counter.
[I’ll put it on Sans’ tab] he crackled in firespeak, a note of humor in his flickers.
“...damn he must be good at sucking dick,” Red whistled. Grillby’s flames leapt a bit, as if flustered. Red snickered. “i bet i’m better~” Wink wink. When Grillby cleared his throat, Red laughed. “heheh. gotcha heated up, don’t i, hotshot? sorreh. couldn’t help myself.”
[Your jokes are just as terrible as his.]
“But you love it.”
A pause.
[Don’t tell him. I’ll never be able to live it down.]
“Secret’s safe with me. Anyway, thanks for the mustard. I gotta head out.”
[Take care of yourself. I heard your brother was in bad shape when you two arrived.]
Red frowned. Was everyone here a gossip monger? “he’s better. fit and fighting ready.” He headed out. No reason to loiter.
Red kept visiting. Sometimes with and sometimes without Edge. Taking care of the farm was getting more bearable with two sets of hands working things out, and people still occasionally invaded their property to help or give them shit to help them through their first year. Nobody could say they were regulars, but folks were a little surprised by how often the pair managed the journey given they didn’t have a horse or car.
Maybe it was because he was a creature of routine, but he dropped by Grillby’s place every time he was in town to chat up the bartender. He even kept putting more mustard bottles on Sans’ ever growing tab. He really didn’t think anything of it until he came into town earlier than usual, and found the main bar area empty when he wandered in.
Huh.
Where was Grillby? He wasn’t in the kitchen. Store room getting stuff ready? Red poked around like a nosy bastard…and froze as soon as he cracked open the store room door.
[It’s okay Sans. Shhhh. Relax. I’m almost done.]
And that was when he heard the most pitiful, needy noise in his own damn voice.
Bent over one of the crates in the backroom was Sans, his trousers on the floor, arm in his own mouth to muffle himself with the sleeve of his sweatshirt. He was sweating and shivering, his legs trembling with strain. Behind him was Grillby, who was very gently and methodically poking the tip of a bright-red ribbon through the last of the holes in Sans’ sacrum. His hands were strong and steady, clearly very practiced at such delicate work, even while the subject of his attention was squirming like a bitch in heat.
“grillbz. please. i…i can’t…please…”
A long, stuttering breath. An arched spine. Sweat crept down pale bone to linger and pool in the natural contours of Sans’ frail frame. He was so small. Even more so than Red. Somehow looking delicate and underfed despite the cushy softness of this world where people handed out food like it wasn’t worth fighting over. It was the pale, half-broken fragility a lot of monsters in his world craved to get their LV laden paws all over. Unsullied. So easy to crush. Helpless to every whim.
[Shhh. Yes you can. I’ve got you. You’re doing so good. Just a little longer.]
Grillby pet Sans’ spine, his gloved hands so large, encompassing in scale, and...pulled the ribbon through. Sans bucked and gasped and swore, choking on filthy promises as the elemental started to tie the ribbon off into a tidy little bow. Grillby then leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his tailbone.
[All done.]
He carefully pulled up Sans’ pants as Sans sorta slumped, deflated and useless in his exhaustion, “fuck. i can’t feel my legs.” It was easy to imagine. His thighbones trembled from overexertion like he’d just run from the Ruins to Hotland and back. Grillby paused and then helped Sans stand up, holding him with the delicacy of a lover.
[I can take it off now] he fretted, wringing those large, clever hands as if desperate for a rag and cup to polish with it.
“nah. heh. you’re a real pal, you know that? remind me to ‘pay my tab’ later, heh.”
Grillby sighed and stepped back, [This plan of yours…I am unsure if you’ve thought it through.]
“sure i have. you two have the hots for one another and i’m the convenient fuck buddy with benefits to bridge the gap since apparently you’re both too shy with each other for a much needed quickie in the kitchen.”
[That would be unsanitary.] Grillby’s flames flickered low, dim, the same way all elemental’s did when anxious. [And you have not expressed him showing any interest that way in you. This could be disastrous and ruin your relationship with him if it goes poorly. It has been a while since you have spent so much time with someone who was not myself or your brother.]
Sans waved him off. “look. i’ll have him unwrap me like a gyftmas present. suck him off. get him all riled up. and send him your way for a good time when he feels an itch. i know him like i know myself. he’ll bite. and the sex doesn’t hafta get in the way of us bein’...pals? not-quite-enemies with benefits?”
[There is a flaw in this plan of yours.]
“and that would be?”
Grillby paused then looked straight at Red, [He’s been listening in on this conversation.]
Awe shit. Caught.
And with his hands in his pants too. Because during that whole, heated exchange, Red had a boner and was absently touching himself. He sorta stopped and just...held himself when the two started talking, having gotten distracted. He whipped said hand out of his pants and backed away from the door just in time for Grillby to open it more fully.
“I wasn’t tryna eavesdrop.”
[How much did you hear?]
“...er…enough to know sans is bad at making plans. dunno how he was gonna explain being tied up like that without lying through his teeth.”
“why would i lie?” Sans called out. “i woulda told you grillby tied me up real nice for you.”
“yer a shitty present.”
Sans came to the door too, “be honest, on a scale of one to ten, how likely would you have let me suck you off?”
Red scowled and looked away.
“ha! called it. you’re pent up.”
“i’m gonna go out of my way to find papyrus leather daddy pants for him to wear at home. and a bondage vest to match.”
Sans scrunched up his face in disgust at the image.
[My deepest apologies, Red. This isn’t how I wanted you to find out.]
“i already knew yer two were fucking.”
[That’s not what I meant.]
Red blinked up at him, “and what were you meaning?”
Sans shoved Grillby towards Red and the elemental stumbled, catching himself against Red and flickering. He cleared his throat and…leaned in, pressing his amorphous face against Red’s forehead. A kiss. O-oh.
[I was hoping to ask you on a date.]
“how did sans and sacrum lacing get involved?!”
[...]
“he’s shy and i figured if you didn’t kill me of all people while we were fucking, he was probably safe to give you a whirl.”
Red flipped Sans off, “why are yer so fuckin’ punchable?!”
“it’s part of my charm. speaking of which…you wanna unwrap me?”
Red glanced between Grillby and the cheeky bastard that just propositioned him. Grillby looked…intrigued. And Red had to wonder if these two were really just friends with benefits or if they just were dating and in denial. Because he was suddenly in the middle of this horny trainwreck.
“i’d rather see yer suffer, honestly.”
“even if i’d get on my knees and beg~”
[Ignore him. His Season is soon. If you’d like, I can get you a bottle of mustard and you can forget this ever happened…] Grillby looked so…embarrassed and uncertain.
Red swallowed.
“i’d rather come back tonight…after hours…and mebbe…get to know ya better? off the clock rather than as a bartender. edge’ll be pissed if i neglect the farm just for some tail…”
[Of course.]
Red chuckled and adjusted his coat, “well. i should be going…” Sans groaned his complaint in the background. “by the way. you should leave him tied up for the rest of the day. it is my present after all.”
Grillby’s flames flickered.
[Noted~]
Red slipped out of the bar, his soul racing. Maybe living in this pastoral hellscape wouldn’t be so bad after all.