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Snowed In, Chilling Out

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“I’d better get going.” You stretched and rose from the couch. “I got work tomorrow and I can’t be late.”

“aw, c’mon,” Sans said, hiding his disappointment behind an easygoing smirk. “just one more?”

“Sorry, Sans. I gotta go. It was fun nitpicking movies with you, though.” You went to pick up your jacket from the coat hanger. “We should do this again sometime.” His soul fluttered. Damn, he really was in deep, wasn’t he?

Sans followed you to the door, lightly shaking the bowl of unfinished popcorn in his hands. “they’re callin’ yer name, doll!” he said in a sing-song voice.

You put your jacket on with a half-suppressed smile. “As tempting as popcorn is, I really can’t stay.”

“baby, it’s cold outside...” he crooned.

You snickered. “I am not gonna sing that with you.”

“why not? i’ll sing the girl’s lines, if that’ll convince ya.”

“Oh my god, don’t!” you said between giggles, covering your mouth.

“i gotta go away!” Sans screeched in his worst falsetto, the back of his hand pressed against his forehead. He batted his nonexistent eyelashes at you. You doubled over laughing, and he soon dropped his act to laugh along with you.

You wiped a tear from your eye, still chuckling. “You’re such a good singer.”

“the absolute best alive. mettaton wishes he had these skills.”

“Heheh...” You brushed a lock of hair behind your ear. A rosy tint claimed your cheeks. “...Sans?”

Sans sensed the change in the air. Sweat gathered on his palms. “yeah?”

“I—”

Sans’ ringtone blared, cutting you off. He jumped, cursing loudly and almost dropping the popcorn. He ripped his phone out of his pocket. Papyrus was calling him. He glanced up at you. You motioned for him to take the call. Great. Now he was never gonna hear what you wanted to say.

He pressed the green button on his screen and instantly regretted it. “SANS!” Papyrus’ voice boomed. “WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON WITH MOTHER NATURE?!”

Sans jerked away from the phone. Christ, can his brother talk like a normal fucking person for once?! “fer fucks sake, papyrus! ya tryna rape my eardrums with yer shriekin’?!”

“YOU DON’T HAVE EARDRUMS, ASS-HAT! I KNOW YOU CAN BE A TOTAL HERMIT, BUT WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU LOOKED OUT THE WINDOW?!”

A puzzled expression crossed your face. You must’ve been able to hear Papyrus’ voice too. You went over to a window and drew one side of the curtains back. “...well, I’ll be damned.”

“what? what’s outside?” You stepped aside and let him take a good look at what was out the window. He was confused when he was met with nothing but white.  

“YOU KNOW SCIENCE! EXPLAIN WHAT IS HAPPENING OUTSIDE!”

“i dunno, pap,” he said, walking to your side and squinting at the nothingness on the other side of the glass. “i dunno.”

“We’re snowed in.”

“what?” “WHAT?”

“We’re snowed in!” you repeated with a growing smile. “Nice! There’s no way they’ll call us into work tomorrow in this weather!”

“hold up, hold up.” Sans tapped the speaker button on his phone so Papyrus could hear you better. He looked to you, utterly confused and slightly alarmed. “did ya just say we’re in snowdin?”

“No, Sans! We’re snowed in! The snow level’s gotten so high, it’s covering the windows! Have you never been snowed in before? Didn’t you guys live in Snowdin when you were underground?”

“i mean, yeah, but...”

“WE’VE NEVER ACTUALLY BEEN... WELL, SNOWED IN BEFORE.”

You shrugged and put your hand against the window. “Ironic, but okay.”

“DOES THIS MEAN WE’RE TRAPPED IN OUR HOUSES FOR THE NIGHT?”

“It might last longer than that, captain. Could even last up to a few days.”

DAYS?!” Papyrus squawked. “I’M NOT SANS! I CAN’T STAY COOPED UP IN A HOUSE FOR DAYS!”

“gee, thanks pap,” Sans muttered, drumming his phalanges on the windowsill.

“I’m sure it won’t last too long! The snow will let up before you know it, you’ll see!”

“IT BETTER.” He cleared his throat. “YOU HAVE DONE ADEQUATELY TO ANSWER MY QUESTION, SANS’ HUMAN.”

You put a hand on your face and faked a bashful expression, even though Papyrus couldn’t see you through the phone. “Aw, shucks, big boss. You’re making me blush.” Your hand dropped and a look of realisation crossed your face. “Wait, did you just call me Sans’ hum—”

“A-HA-LRIGHT,” Sans cut you off before you could finish, his smile tight. “welp, was ice talkin’ with ya, papy! goodbye!” He spat out those last words as if they were pieces of Papyrus’ abominable lasagna, his marrow boiling.

“YOU’RE A FUCKING PUS—” Sans hung up and threw his phone onto the couch, his cheekbones hot with embarrassment. He slid a hand down his face and grumbled to himself. A heavy, awkward silence hung thick in the air.

You were the one to break it by coughing a couple times (obviously forced, might he add) and saying quietly, “Looks like I’m stuck here for the night.”

“looks like yer ‘bout ta be blessed with more a’ my great singin’,” he said, desperate to make you forget about what had just happened.

Judging by the easy smile that spread across your face, it seemed to be working.

 

 


 

“I’m boooooored...” you moaned. The two of you were playing Jenga for what felt like the hundredth time. The assortment of board games that you’d both gone through already laid haphazardly strewn about the carpet.

Sans flicked a block out of the stack, equally as entertained as you were. “wood else do ya do when yer snowed in?”

“Let’s see... movies, prank calls, board games...” you mused, listing off the things you’ve done together already while removing a block. “...cleaning?”

“fuck no.”

You looked at the mess of board pieces and spinners on the floor. “Guess we’ll do that later, then.”

He plucked another block from the precariously wobbling tower. “anythin’ else we could do?”

“Cocktails?” you said with a shrug, though your flat expression told him that you already knew his answer.

“pap cut me off from drinkin’ alcohol. fer now, anyway. yer suggestion was worth the shot, though.”

“I guess there’s no use wine-ing about it now, heh.”

“‘s there anythin’ else we could make?”

“OH! I know!” Your hands flew forwards, knocking the Jenga tower over. “Shit. Sorry.”

“‘s fine. i was prolly gonna lose, anyway.” Sans swept the pile of wooden blocks to the side. “whaddya have in mind?”

“Hot chocolate!” you exclaimed, beaming excitedly.

Chocolate and marshmallows sounded pretty good to him at the moment. “sounds like a sweet idea.”

“I knew you’d go cocoa for it. But be warned; we’re not making hot chocolate with cocoa mix. We’re making real hot chocolate. As in melt chocolate down and add milk and stuff.”

That required way more effort than he preferred, but if it tasted good, Sans guessed it’d be worth it. “sure. what ingredients do we need?”

“Let’s see... we’ll need chocolate, milk, sugar...” you trailed off.

“...ya don’t actually know, do you?”

“Hey, I’d bet my left asscheek that you’ve never made real hot chocolate before either!”

“why yer left?”

“You’re missing the point!”

“mm, sure, whateva. how are we gonna do this if ya don’t actually know how to make it?”

You whipped out your phone with a proud smile. “We ask the Internet!” Sans scooted to your side so he could see your screen. After a bit of scrolling and discussion, the two of you found a promising video. You pointed at the channel name. “It’s by You Suck At Cooking.”

Sans sniggered. “yep. it’s the one.” You pressed play.

“It’s a myth that hot chocolate is called hot chocolate because it involves bringing chocolate to a high temperature. The truth is, hot chocolate means using ‘hawt chocolate’,” the man in the video made air quotes with his fingers, “so it’s important to start with the chocolate that you find the hottest.”

Sans watched, amused as the man listed some types of chocolate under the guise of different stereotypes. “which one do you think’s the hottest?” he asked you when the video ended, more for his reference than anything else.

You shrugged. “Eh. My type’s not in there.”

He raised a browbone. “ya don’t say.” Then, in a sudden surge of boldness, he said, “what’s yer type, then?”

A coy smile played at your lips. “Oh, you know. Funny, smart, witty, sarcastic... a hint of bad boy thrown in the mix. Huge tsundere at first. He’d be the perfect guy to laze around with. I don’t really care too much about height, but I just love guys that are about this tall.” You gestured to a height that he couldn’t help but notice looked similar to his. “Ooh, and he’d have a unique taste in drinks, too.”

Sans’ cheeks had been getting more and more flushed with every trait you mentioned. “that’s... oddly specific.” He shrunk a little into his sweater.

“What can I say? I know exactly who I want.” You winked at him, and damn if it didn’t feel like Cupid’s arrow striking him right in his pounding soul. The type you’d described sounded exactly like him; did that mean...?

don’t get yer hopes up, he warned himself. no way she’d go for a guy like you.

“enough a’ this mushy crap.” he said gruffly, standing up abruptly and turning his flushed face away from you. “we makin’ hot chocolate or not?”

You got to your feet and he followed you into the kitchen. “Hey, you were the one who asked!”

“shuddup...” He opened a cabinet and searched for some chocolate. “which type are we gonna make?”

“Let’s do the one with maple syrup.” You scanned the fridge for vanilla extract. “Has your fridge always been this stocked? The first time I came to your house, the only things in here were three bottles of mustard and an empty bag of Chisps.”  

“i dunno. guess pap’s naggin’ finally got ta me.” That was only half true. The reason why he finally started buying groceries was mostly for you. You came by his house pretty often and had stayed the night on many occasions—he wanted to make sure that you had stuff to eat besides Grillby’s takeout.

“Alright, I got the milk and extract.” You set the ingredients down next to each other. “Found the chocolate yet?”  

“yep.” Sans dumped the chocolate, maple syrup, and measuring tools on the counter. He checked the packaging of the chocolate bar. Dark chocolate, 85 percent. Perfect.

You set a saucepan on the stove and turned the dial up. “Video says to heat one cup of milk up. Let’s use two cups so there’s enough for both of us.” He nodded dutifully and measured out two cups of milk before pouring them into the pot.

“what udder stuff do we need?”

“Heheh, um... 30 grams of chocolate. That means 60 for us.”

Sans ripped the wrapper off the bar. “how many squares is 60 grams?”

You opened your mouth and started saying something but immediately stopped with a frown. You reached over, yanked the bar out of his hand, snapped it in half, and plopped it into the pot. “Good enough,” you said with a satisfied nod.

Sans snorted. “we should have a spot in that Masterchef competition you always watch.”

You shook a few drops of vanilla extract into the mixture. “Screw being in the competition. We should be judging it!”

“i can see it now.” He waved a hand through the air. “you and me, standing amongst the culinary giants.”

“What would your signature dish be?” you asked as you added the maple syrup to the saucepan.

“microwaved spam.”

“Really? I expected better of you, Sans.”

“microwaved spam served with a light drizzle of meat juice, fresh from the can.”

“Much better.” You scooped up a bit of the hot chocolate and drank it. You closed your eyes with a blissful smile. “Mmm.”

“what’s your verdict, chef?”

“My verdict is... that it needs whipped cream!”

“i got ya covered.” Sans took the opportunity to take a pack of marshmallows out of the pantry as well, popping three into his mouth while you transferred the hot chocolate to two mugs. You eagerly snatched up the can of Reddi-wip and shook it before dispensing a generous amount of whipped cream into your mug, giggling almost maniacally all the while.

“Ta-daah!” You lifted your mug into the air. “The perfectest cup of hot chocolate there is. I gotta go take a picture of this.” You put your hot chocolate down and dashed off to the living room.

...

GOGOGOGOGO!

Sans plunged his hand into the bag of marshmallows and dumped a fistful of them into his hot chocolate. Some bounced off the rim of his cup and onto the floor, but he would have to care about that later. He went to get another batch of marshmallows. Right now, he had to get as many as he could in here before you—

“Hey, so uh... I don’t think I have enough whipped cream on here? What do you th—” Both you and Sans froze at the sight of each other. The latter had his hand buried deep inside a packet of marshmallows, his other hand holding a cup of hot chocolate that was absolutely overflowing with the fluffy treats. A big smile plastered itself onto your face.  

Click. His gaze flicked briefly to your phone. He narrowed his eye-sockets at you. “ya better delete that right now, girly.” Your shoulders began shaking with laughter. Fine. If you weren’t gonna delete it, he’d do it himself. He teleported over to you and reached for your phone. “gimme that!”

You raised it high above your head. “Nope!”

“give! it! to! me!” he said between jumps.

You stood on tiptoe. “N-O-P-E!”

Sans crossed his arms with a huff. Wait... couldn’t he just turn your soul blue? You’d be immobilized and the phone would be his for the taking! Perfect. He raised his hand and prepared his magic. Unfortunately, you seemed to catch on to his train of thought. “Uh oh.” Without any warning, you shoved your phone down the front of your shirt. The magic in his fingertips fizzled out. “Hahah! Can’t get it now, can you?” you crowed.

“ya can’t do that! it ain’t fair!”

“Uh, yeah I can. C’mon, bone boy! You’re always talking about how weird human bodies are. Why don’t you just come over here and get it?”

Sans sputtered in disbelief. Sure, humans found way too many things inappropriate (Boobs were literally just lumps of fat!). But this was you. His best friend that he somehow fell in love with. Just the thought of touching you there made magic rush to his cheeks. sh-shit! i can’t go blushin’ like an anime schoolgirl at gross human bodies! i can’t let her win!

“I’m waiting!” you sang, picking up your mug and taking a sip of your hot chocolate. “Hurry up and make your choice. Having a phone in your bra isn’t exactly comfortable, ya know.”

and yet...

“alright, fine...” He stuffed his hands in his pockets and kicked the floor. “you win. happy?”

“Very,” you said gleefully, reaching into your bra and pulling your phone out. “Besides, even if you did get my phone, you don’t know my password.” Sans dragged a hand down his face with a groaned. How could he have forgotten that? “What’s so bad about liking marshmallows anyway? If anything, it’s super cute.”

“that’s the point!” he said through gritted teeth. “i ain’t some cute, innocent pansy. i’m a monster.”

“An adorable monster who loves marshmallows.”

you—!

“Sans, I’m not going to think any less of you because of something as trivial as this. You could be a brony and I’d still think you’re cool.” You put a hand on his shoulder. “We’re best friends, man. This doesn’t change anything about how I see you.”

Sans’ soul was practically singing at your words. A glimmer of light flashed from his ribcage. Shit, he was glowing! “yeah, yeah. cut me the sap, will ya? ‘s gonna make me puke.” he grumbled, occupying himself by eating away at the mountain of marshmallows on his hot chocolate.

“I’ll take that as a ‘thank you’,” you said with a smug smile, squirting some more whipped cream into your cup and taking a triumphant sip.

Sans copied you. The hot chocolate was rich; not overly bitter but not too sweet, either. Damn. This was good. “so, we made hot chocolate. now what?”

“Oh! There’s one thing we haven’t done yet!” You stepped closer to him. “Let’s bake some cookies!”

Just as you finished your sentence, a loud crackle sounded from the roof. All the lights in the house went out. The room was plunged into total darkness. “Or not.” You sighed. “Great.”

“looks like the power’s out. can you see anything?”

“Other than your eyelights? Just pure black and disappointment. You?”

Sans blinked, trying to adjust his eyes to the darkness. “a little bit. i see the way outta here. let’s move.”

“Dude. I can’t see. You’re gonna have to lead me there.”

“oh. right.” You approached him and groped the air for his hand. Before he could decide whether he wanted you to hold his hand or not, he felt your fingers close around his, warm and soft against his bones. His soulbeat quickened. “this way,” he said quickly, roughly tugging you after him.

“I left my phone on the couch,” you piped up. “If we can find it, we’ll have a good light source.”

“that’s a real bright idea, swe-- bud.”

“I’m delighted you think so.” You reached out and grasped the armrest of the couch. “This the couch?”

“yep.” You moved your hands across the surface of the sofa. Sans joined you. “damn, why does finding stuff in the dark have to be sofa-ckinghard?”

“Heheh— oh, found it!” An almost blinding light shone from the device in your hands. “Shit, that’s bright. Lemme just...” You turned the torch on. “There we go. Phew.”

“thank the stars. i was startin’ to think that this whole operation was just a shot in the dark.”

“I know, right? Any longer and I would’ve started using you as a torch.”

It took Sans a good second to fully process what you said. “wait, what?”

“Nothing.” You hugged your arms. “Fuck, it’s cold.”

“i can shortcut up there and fix the lights,” he offered confidently. “just gimme thirty minutes or somethin’.”

“Thirty minutes? Uh...” You looked away from him. “Can you stay here? With me? I don’t wanna be alone in the dark.”

He cocked a bonebrow. “ya got yer phone. i don’t see the problem.”

“Just...” You shrank a little. “Stay. Please?”

Fuck, how could he refuse when you said it like that? His soul swelled with protectiveness. “fine. i’ll stay. i’ll fix them when ya fall asleep or whatever. fer now, we gotta do somethin’ about gettin’ ya warm.”

“How about we build a pillow fort?”

He smirked. “doll, yer talkin’ to the master right here. let’s do this shit.” The two of you set off to collect materials—blankets, sheets, pillows, chairs, and anything else that would help in the complex construction of a mighty pillow fort.

While you clipped all the sheets together, Sans pushed the couch flush against the wall and started arranging the chairs at where the ends and sides of the pillow fort were going to be. Together, the two of you draped the giant sheet over the furniture. The couch pinned the sheet against the wall and the chairs kept it from drooping too low.

You stood back to admire your work. “Beautiful,” you whispered with a hand against your heart.

The fort could’ve been a little taller, but Sans thought it wasn’t bad at all. “just be careful when enterin’, yeah? i can’t affort to lose all this hard work.”

You cracked a smile at his pun. “No problem.” You carefully lifted the sheet up and crept into the fort with a checkered quilt. Sans followed suit, a quilt of his own tucked against his chest. You slumped back on the cushions propped up against the front of the couch and made yourself comfortable. He crawled to a spot next to you and unraveled his quilt. You let out a content sigh. “So warm...”

“mmhmm.” You turned your phone’s flashlight off and snuggled deeper into the pillows beneath you. “y’know, there was a kidnapping at school when i was just a babybones.”

Your eyes flew open. “Really?!”

Sans’ grin turned shit-eating. “yeah. don’t worry though, the teacher woke him up.”

You tittered and shook your head. “Can’t believe I got baited by that.” You were silent for a few seconds before you fired back with a joke of your own. “Okay, here’s a one-liner I saw the other day. A sound sleeper is just a person who snores.”

“i’m great in bed. i can sleep for days.”

“I got paid to take part in a study at the sleep clinic. It was my dream job.”

After a while of exchanging jokes and puns with you, Sans was starting to feel a bit sleepy. “I’m so tired, my tired is tired,” you mumbled.

He snorted. Was that even a joke? “c’mon, sweetheart. you can do bedder than that.” He waited for your response, but all he got was the steady sound of your breathing. “(y/n)?” Had you fallen asleep?

He got his answer when your head suddenly fell onto his shoulder. He stiffened. ohmygodohmygodohmygod— You leaned the rest of your weight onto him, snuggling up to his side. His blush was so bright, it was enough to illuminate your face. His soulbeat was akin to a jackhammer at this point. Would it be creepy if he smelled your hair? Probably, but he’s done it before and was doing it right now, anyway.

It felt amazing, though, being so close to you. He’s never been this close to anyone else besides his brother before, and that was a very, very long time ago. Truth be told, he was a pretty touch-starved monster. You made him feel loved, even if he wasn’t sure you returned his feelings.

“yer the only one who could do this to me,” he murmured, entranced by the rhythmic beating of your heart. His soulbeat slowed down to match yours, and for once in his life, everything felt perfect. Drowsiness made his bones heavy and eye-sockets drift closed. He rested his head against yours and wound an arm around your waist, slowly to make sure you didn’t wake up. “i love you.”

Without warning, you jerked away from him and out of his hold. Sans’ skull, no longer having a surface to lean against, landed on your torso. You put both your hands on his shoulders and straightened him up. The fort lit up in a dim, red light; and his face was the source of it all. He’d thought his blush had been bad enough before—but now? This was downright mortifying. You were staring at him with wide, disbelieving eyes. “What?”

“what?”

“What?”

“what?”

“What?”

Sans dragged his claws across the surface of the pillows beside him, leaving deep scratches in the fabric. Dread settled in his bones. “were you awake this whole time?!”

“Did you just say what I think you said?!”

“i’m outta here, i ain’t doin’ this, nope—” He scrambled backwards, gathering his magic for a quick shortcut out of this nightmare.

“Oh no you don’t!” You leapt for him and you both landed on the floor in his room with a hard thud.

“get offa me!” Sans thrashed against you, but you weren’t letting up. Fuck, you were strong.

“Just talk to me, Sans! I get that opening up can be hard, but—!”

ya don’t get it!” he roared in your face. “i can’t!”

“Why the fuck not?!” you snapped back.

“i can’t lose you! you— i love you too much!” he yelled. You immediately shut your mouth. He screamed at himself to stop, but once he started, everything else just kept pouring out. “i never told ya about it ‘cause i’m happy just bein’ yer friend and keepin’ my distance! at least then ya won’t realise that you can do betta than a fucked up monster like me!” His voice broke, his vision swimming with hot tears.

“Sans...”

“i dunno what i’d do if ya weren’t here,” he mumbled, facing away from you. “yer more than just my best friend ta me, sweetheart. yer my everythin’.” He scrubbed at his eyesockets with his sleeve and met your gaze with a glare. “there. i said it. now let go a’ me.” You backed off of him, letting him sit up but holding his hand so he couldn’t teleport away. He drew a stuttered breath. “look, i’m not sure if ya wanna stay friends, but i’d understand if y—”

“I love you too.”

Sans halted. “wh-what?”

You took his other hand. “I love you too.”

“as in yer in love with me?” You nodded. He gripped you tighter, his phalanges digging into the back of your hands. “ya mean it, right? yer not kiddin’ or gettin’ me back fer all my pranks?”

“I could ask the same to you, Sa—” The skeleton let go of your hands and tackled you in a hug before you could finish.

He squeezed you tight. “i’d never joke about this,” he breathed, his soul glowing softly beneath his sweater.

“Me neither,” you said, returning the hug with just as much affection. “I love you, Sans. I love you so much.”

Sans buried his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent and letting your heartbeat soothe his magic. “am i dreamin’?”

You chuckled. “I, uh, think this is pretty real. You’re not dreaming.”

“i gotta be. this can’t be real. life ain’t this kind ta me.”

You pulled back gently and tilted his head up. You leaned in with half-lidded eyes. “What am I gonna have to do to convince you otherwise?”

Sans gave you a coy smirk. “oh, i dunno...” He looped his arms around your neck and tugged you closer till you were mere millimeters away from his face. Your breath ghosted over his teeth, a small cloud of condensation leaving your mouth and curling in the air. “how ‘bout we start with a kiss?”

“I can do that,” you purred before closing the distance between the two of you with a sweet kiss, and he had just enough time to pick up on the faint trace of hot chocolate on your lips before he let himself be swept away in the moment.

Despite the snow piled up around the house, Sans couldn’t had felt more warm than when he was in your arms that night.

 


 

You blinked. “Hold on a second. You could’ve just teleported me back to my house all this time!”

“heheheh...” Sans chuckled sheepishly, raising his hands up in a shrug. “i... forgot?”

“You dick! You totally remembered!”

“hey, can’t a guy spend some time with his gal on a winter day?”

“If I didn’t remember that you could teleport, I’d be wearing the same underwear for what was about to be a second night in a row! Take me back home! I need new panties!”

A lewd grin spread across his face. “only if i get ta keep the ones yer wearin’ right now.”

You started smacking his shoulder. “Pervert!”

Sans caught your hands. “gee, calm yer tits, woman! i was just jokin’ around!” He lowered his voice. “seriously though, if yer not wearin’ em ya might as well give them ta me.”

“WHAT?!”

“kidding, kidding! don’t— ow, fuck, stop kickin’ me!”