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Kamari333's Kustard Week 2019: Meme Theme

Chapter Text

Comic was nervous. This would be the first time he introduced his boyfriend to his other friends, and his brother Rus. He wanted the party to go well. He wanted everyone to see how great his datemate was. He wanted his datemate to feel like he had more family to love and be loved by.

He was nervous that it would all end in tears. However, Comic took a deep breath, put on a smile, and shuffled out to the back yard where he could hear his brother and Undyne were already play fighting. Comic watched them wrestle at the special wrestling table (a sturdy metal thing to try and prevent furniture breaking) for a few moments before starting on the grill.

Five minutes later, Comic got the telltale text message, and went around to the front of the house.

Red grinned at Comic from behind a pile of presents in his arms. "'eya, sweetheart. mind walkin' me round? can't see much."

Comic snickered. "whats all this?"

Red hid behind the packages. "boss said gift givin' was part o' th' datin' manual..." he mumbled.

Comic's soul skipped a beat, his grin softening to something more genuine. Red was just as nervous as he was. He took his place beside Red, putting a guiding hand on Red's shoulder. "ya didn't have to do this. but i'm glad you did. c'mon. everyone else is gonna love you too."

"did i bring enough?" Red asked, softer still, his eyelights white and quivering with nerves that were belied by his sharp grin.

"just me, paps, 'dyne, alph, and the kiddo today."

"perfect."

Comic led the way to the back yard, where they were greeted warmly by excited voices.

Red set the gifts on a table, taking a moment to breathe before passing them out. "wasn't sure what yer all like, so i made a few guesses..."

Comic opened his gift to find a new pair of slippers, which had hard rubber soles on the bottom like regular shoes, but were soft on the inside and pink and fluffy. He grinned, feeling the inner lining and appreciating the plush material. "oh. my god."

"yeah. slipper shoes. now ya can wear slippers in th rain n keep yer socks that much dryer." Red mumbled.

"i love them," Comic assured him, reaching over to give Red a gentle hand squeeze.

"OH!!!" Rus pulled out a wig. "A HAIR ORNAMENT!!" he tried it on. "PERFECT TO HAVE THE WIND BLOWING THROUGH!!! THANK YOU THIS IS VERY THOUGHTFUL!!"

Red averted his eyes.

"WHAT ABOUT YOU, HUMAN?" Rus asked Frisk. "WHAT DO YOU HAVE?"

"A knife!" The human child held up the sharp object, letting it shine in the light.

"no!" Comic jumped up, darting to take it away. "i mean- uh- that's not safe, for, ya know, a kid, and-"

"relax, its one o' them joke ones, that sheath themselves when ya stab with m?" Red made the accompanying gesture.

Comic looked at the toy, testing the blade. Sure enough, it shrank back into the handle and then popped back out when he let go. "oh..." He handed it back, and Frisk smiled up at him with ageless understanding.

Red sat beside Comic, watching Alphys and Undyne fan-gasm over the anime merch he'd gotten for them. "ya ok?" He asked in a whisper.

Comic shifted to sit in Red's lap, leaning back and closing his sockets. "yeah..." The tension in his shoulders eased, and he let himself drift into a nap. Red was there, and he was safe, and everything was okay.

They were going to be okay.

Chapter Text

Comic and Rus were sitting on the couch together when Red came in, kicking off his shoes and scowling at the little bit of dirt that fell to the carpet from them. His scowl softened marginally when he saw Comic, then resumed its position.

Comic, unphased, patted the spot on the couch beside him, soft, lazy grin that was just on the right side of being described as a smirk lingering playfully in his teeth. Red fell back into the spot, arms crossed. Rus, recognizing Red's mood, got up to gather the necessary materials to pacify him (specifically, hot chocolate and brownies that had a little more fiber in the recipe).

Leaving Comic alone on the couch with Red to do preemptive damage control.

"bad day?" It wasn't really a question Comic needed to ask, but he did anyway.

Red didn't need to answer, so he didn't.

Comic leaned over and put his full, if negligible weight on Red's side. "guess you'd be pretty annoyed if i did this huh?"

Red gave Comic a look, inscrutable and intense. Comic couldn't help grinning up at him.

"or this?" Comic wiggled into Red's lap, sitting sideways so his feet were where he had just been sitting and he could tuck his head against Red's neck. Red was forced to move his arms, opening them to hold Comic so he wouldn't fall. Those arms clung tight, holding Comic securely.

Comic sighed in satisfaction, pressing his teeth to Red's jaw before murmuring, "or this?" seconds before he bit down on the bit of Red's collarbone left exposed by the ratty hand-me-down wife beater he had worn that day.

That did it- Red gripped Comic by the ribcage and pivoted until they were horizontal on the couch, Red looming over Comic. "that's it, now yer gonna get it-" Red began to growl, leaning in to being something less innocent than a few nibbles or kisses.

"wait-" Comic put his hands up in supplication, pushing gently (and uselessly, since the only reason Red stopped was because Red chose to stop).

"wut??"

"i'm baby," Comic answered, grin widening to something mischievous.

Red's utter confusion was well worth it. "th' fuck's that even-?!" He grumbled, before leaning in to try again.

"HEY!! YOU CANNOT DO THAT!!" Rus called from the kitchen doorway, three mugs of cocoa on a tray in hand, the brownies on a plate in the other. "HE IS BABY!!"

Red looked between Rus and Comic, even more confused. Comic sent him a raspberry, juvenile and triumphant.

Whatever retort Red might have had was cut short by Rus handing him his cocoa, and then the both of them were made to readjust their positions to sit more properly on the couch.

Red swallowed one of the brownies whole, then drank his drink, squinting in pleasure at the experience and relaxing back into the couch. Whatever it was that had soured Red's mood was now long forgotten, overshadowed by a number of other emotions it would take hours for Red to sort through. By the time he did, Red would be in bed with Comic, sleepily cuddling him like a stuffed animal and too comfortable to be bothered by them anymore.

Comic was pleased that his japes could be used for such a noble goal.

Chapter Text

"so what about tomorrow?" Comic asked, smiling.

"no." Red answered in that terse, irritable fashion Comic had gotten used to dealing with.

"the day after?"

"abso-fuckin-lutely not."

"well, when then?"

"never."

"never?" Comic stopped mid-step, his one slippered foot still in the air. "why not..?"

"one does not simply walk into underfell," was Red's smartass reply.

"are you... ashamed of me?" Comic asked, grin still easy. "i'd get it. you're world is all about fighting, right? and i'm not exactly the poster child for being a good fighter..." Comic would probably make Red look bad. But still, he'd have liked to meet his brother, and his friends, and-

"no! fuck- no, it ain't-" Red stopped, turning to grip Comic by the shoulders. "i jus' dun wanna see ya get hurt! it's dangerous over there. i mean, i get it, ya see me 'n my lazy ass 'n how 'm wrapped 'round yer finger, but not everyone over there's as reasonable as me. fucker's back home'd kill both 'o us fer a fuckin' tootsie roll, no warnin'. i dun' wanna..."

Comic reached up to pat Red's cheek. "hey, chill, buddy. it's ok. i get ya." Comic crept closer, nuzzling, and sighed happily when Red pulled him into a tight hug. Red was shaking, a soundless quiver too tense to rattle. He cooed at Red, trying to comfort him. "it's ok. i'm sorry. i just want to know more about you. and meet the people important to you..."

Red calmed down after a few moments of holding Comic, feeling he was there (and, presumably, safe). "maybe i c'n get boss t' take a day off t' come visit. we could do like a picnic thing..."

"i'd like that." Comic was starting to like any excuse Red had to be in his world.

Red tilted Comic's head up just enough for a kiss.

Who was he kidding; Comic had liked those excuses (and those kisses) for a long time.

Chapter Text

Lump lodged in his nonexistant throat, Red punched the hospital door open. He'd tried just pushing it open but it had been locked for some reason. Or stuck. Or maybe it was a pull door. Or a sliding door. Or maybe it was a person who looked like a door because they were in his way. He wasn't really paying attention. Thing was in way, now thing not in way. He vaulted over the broken glass and bit of metal he'd strewn over the tile and skid to a halt to catch himself at the front desk.

Overcome by rage and fear, Red didn't really know what to say, words replaced by unintelligible growling. He finally managed to communicate what he wanted, needed, demanded by right, pulling out his wallet to show a photo of him and his precious, vulnerable little pet, his precious kitten. The nurse pointed down a hallway, giving directions Red only vaguely heard or understood.

Still shaking in pent up, violence fueled emotion, Red scrambled down the hall, following the directions until he found yet another door he had to punch out of his way.

Skidding to a halt, Red pulled himself through the doorway into the hospital room, panting a little. His claws left marks in the doorframe as he threw himself inside and against the bed where his pet was now curled up on his side.

Jaw hanging open as he panted, Comic looked a little worse for wear. He was covered in sweat, quivering slightly and clearly in pain. Red reached down, gentle, and brushed some of the moisture from his skull, his soul swelling with fondness at the way his touch calmed and soothed his pet. Comic's sockets fluttered open the moment he felt Red's hand against his skull, and his pained expression turned to that of an amused wink.

"pretty sure i tolja not t' do it," Red growled down at him. His voice was cold and dripping in vitriol, presenting a stark foil to the gentleness with which he continued to touch and sooth Comic with his hands, seeking out tension in Comic's neck and shoulders to scratch and rub away.

"guess you were right," Comic admitted, snickering, only to wince and clutch his middle harder. He sucked in a pained breath, then smiled again. "but now i know-"

"dont-"

"for absolute certain-"

"don't ya fuckin' dare-"

"that i don't need any more water weight!" and with a flourish, Comic threw back the blankets to reveal the watermelon partially lodged in his pelvis, the source of his discomfort. He wiggled his brows at Red, smiling harder.

"all this fer a fuckin' pun." Red groaned, rubbing his face. "yer th worst."

"you love me."

Red answered him with a kiss. Yeah, maybe he did.

Chapter Text

Comic wandered into the back yard, chasing after the smell of food. He had kind of been expecting to see Red, huddled over the big grill they had bought last week in anticipation of summer barbecues. He had been expecting the pink apron that Red was wearing a little bit less (not that he was complaining, it suited him, even if Red would never admit it and would probably deck him for saying so).

The sheer amount of meat sitting in the plastic wrapped kiddy pool (where the hell had he gotten a kiddie pool?!) was something Comic had not been expecting.

Comic ambled slowly towards his boyfriend, taking care to step on leaves and twigs and shuffle noisily through the grass in his slippers, going out of his way to make a little extra noise. Red looked focused, and they were outside, so sneaking up on him wasn't a good idea.

Red cast a glance in Comic's direction, crimson eyelight wisping threateningly before settling to plain white. Comic's soul pulsed in reciprocal assuagement, lengthening his stride to close the distance between them. "wassup, babe?"

Red smirked. "makin' lunch."

Comic glanced again at the pool of meat, then at the table where already cooked meat was sitting. "uh. just lunch?"

"yup."

"for the two of us?"

"boss'll be home t' join in."

"so three."

"rus might come?" Red looked over his shoulder at Comic again, opening the grill and turning what looked like a whole ham without looking. "whats yer point?"

"why do we have all this meat?"

"found it."

"you found it."

"yup."

"w-where did you find it???" Comic was trying not to laugh at the rediculousness of it all. There was so much fucking meat.

"in the yard."

"you just walked outside to take a smoke and found a kiddie pool full of pork?"

"no." Red brushed his hands on his apron. "came out for a smoke and found thirty t' fifty ferel hogs goin' after boss' t'matoes."

Comic stared at Red. Then he looked closer at the meat. There were... char marks in places, and the yard did look a bit... roughed up. "what did you-"

"killed 'm."

"how?!"

"gaster blaster t' th face. how else i gonna kill thirty t' fifty feral hogs runnin' round th' fuckin' yard, duel wield ak-47s?"

Comic couldn't take it anymore, he started laughing, hugging himself. "holy shit-!!"

Red looked proud of himself. Comic tried to pull himself together. He did. He would need to go emergency purchase an industrial freezer to store all this fucking meat because there was no way three people were going to be able to eat it all in a day. That, or run around town giving it away to anyone who would take it.

Better get the freezer just in case.

Chapter Text

Comic looked up with a grin as Red finally curled up in his lap. It had taken a lot of pot brownies to get Red this relaxed, but finally their diligence had paid off and Red was now pliant and comfortable. Comic sighed in relief, bringing his arms up to wrap around his boyfriend and hold him, cradling his scarred frame with a tenderness he wondered if anyone else had ever shown him.

From the responsive, emotional little trill he got for his trouble, Comic figured the answer was few and far between.

Red snuggled deeper into Comic's arms, mimicking Comic's favorite laying position of situating his ribs in the space between Comic's ribcage and pelvis, taking advantage of their unique anatomy to be as close and comfortable as possible. He began to purr, loud and full and affectionate, nuzzling his face weakly against Comic's chest.

"see? isn't it nice to chill out?" Comic asked.

"yeah....." Red agreed, grinning. "hey......."

"hmm?" Comic snickered at his stoned datemate.

"'r ya from tennessee?" Red asked.

"uh, no? i'm from snowdin. you know that."

"really?" Red grinned sharp and dopy all at once. "'cuz yer th' only ten i see~!!"

Comic blinked down at Red in surprise, choking on a laugh. "w-what?!"

"are ya french?" Red asked, completely ignoring the previous conversation. "cuz eiffel fer ya."

Oh. My god. Comic grinned wider. "you can't be serious-!!"

"ya like vegetables?" Red asked. "'cuz i love ya from my head tomatoes~!"

Comic snorted. "boo. low hanging fruit."

"ya like sales? lookin' fer a good bargain?" Red rumbled, voice still slurred and soft. "'cuz clothes 'r 100% off in my room."

"now i know you're high," Comic wheezed, shaking.

Red looked like the cat that got the cream. "'r ya area 51? 'cuz i'd storm ya at 3am."

Comic could not respond, wheezing and laughing as he clung to his little shit of a datemate.

Red seemed to decide this was enough, because he wiggled up to start his attack on Comic, drinking in his laughter and stealing his breath away with somnolent kisses. Comic was defenseless before his might, only able to hold on for the languid little ride, holding him close to keep it from ending as long as possible.

Eventually Red got tired, and resumed his position snuggling into Comic's chest, sockets drooping and grin hitched higher, smug with himself. Comic decided it was fine that way, closing his own sockets and sighing contentedly.

Brownie days would need to be a regular thing from now on.

Chapter Text

It was a Sans convention. A convention for Sans from all across the multiverse, whatever roll they happened to play or history they had. Swap types were gathering to compete energetically, Alter types had set up little booths to pass out snacks, and Metta-Sans was just finishing up the stage area where it looked like there would be entertainment. The bartender Sans was washing glasses, just waiting for the inevitable rush (and looking a little concerned).

Red took in the spectacle, the crowd, with a cautious eye. There were... more people than he expected. He curled his arm a bit tighter around Comic, pulling him closer, more secure to his side. The multiverse was full of infinite possibilities, and not all of them were good. Red honestly wouldn't even have come if if wasn't for the fact Rus wanted to go to the neighboring Papyrus convention, and Boss was loathed to let his friend go somewhere like that alone, and they had both needed a ride, and it was just easier to hang out in the next door building than make two round trips.

"relax, we're gonna be fine," Comic hummed, leaning into Red's side with a trusting ease that made Red's soul flutter. He smirked down at his little pet, curling his claws to scratch under Comic's chin. Comic squinted his sockets, eyelights soft and deforming with elastic ease to match his grin.

"'m totally relaxed," Red lied, checking out another fell-type with his peripheral vision. A taller skeleton was dressed in ratty regal wear, pegging him as an alterfell of some sort, was eyeing the two of them up and down from his seat on a bench. A few more mixed into the crowd were watching the two of them, -tale and -fell types alike, with a mix of expressions that set Red's teeth on edge.

Comic brought his hand out of his pocket to reach up and stroke at Red's arm. "ok." It wasn't an agreement. It was an answer that meant, 'i realize you won't say anything else even though it is obvious to everyone in the building how very much of a lie that is, but i am not going to fight you over it because that is too much work,' and Red knew it, and Comic knew that Red knew it.

Red sighed, giving a few more affectionate scritches (yeah, he gave a shit about this freexp fucker, big deal, wanna fight about it? because he'll fight) before gesturing. "so what first?"

"lets go get a seat for the concert?" Comic suggested, indicating the stage area with his head. "then we can take turns getting snacks?"

"uh, that would imply splitting up at some point..." Red was definitely not comfortable splitting up in a crowd like this.

Comic caught on, like always, to Red's anxieties. "eh, its less walking to just go down the line of booths anyway. wanna start with the pies?"

"yeah," Red agreed, starting to head towards the smell of apples and sugar. There was a Sans in a straw hat manning the booth with the help of a horror-type. Red didn't like the look of the pair, but Comic smiled and waved and traded a few G for some apple pies. Red sniffed out a booth selling homemade chisps, with various flavors, and got Comic the ketchup kind.

A few more minutes of snack browsing, a few more additions to their inventory, and then they were settling down in seats towards the back of the stage area. Red couldn't help scanning the crowd every now and then, the sensors along the surface of his bones lighting up with the sense that they were being watched. Comic had to lay in his lap to pull him out of it, which was a double edged sword and ended with Comic asleep there on the bench with his head cushioned by an empty bag of chisps.

Red smirked, petting Comic's head lazily as he made himself pay more attention to the stage, where Metta-Sans was strutting on those robot legs, hot pink boots kicking up into the air. He danced to some dubstep for a while, before announcing the karaoke was open.

Red did a double take when he saw who came up to the stage first: it was another fell-type Sans, which in and of itself was not unusual given Red fell into that category himself. The unusual thing was that Red recognized this particular one. Fell.

Red growled, draping his other arm over Comic and glaring. That fucker. Comic's ex. Red couldn't stand him. Asshole could posture all he wanted, but Comic was his now, and he couldn't just walk back into their lives and take him back.

Comic sat up a little, likely sensing Red's spike in unease. He followed Red's gaze until he too saw the familiar figure standing in the spotlight, clutching a microphone and waiting for the music to start. Comic settled more fully in Red's lap, seeking comfort Red was more than happy to provide.

From the way those dark, tired sockets settled in their direction, Red could tell that Fell had seen them too.

It was too far to see much of his expression, but when the music started, Fell sang an oddly melancholy song that Red could have sworn he heard Boss listening to at some point. When the chorus hit, the crowd started to sing along:

Nevermind, I'll find
Someone Like You
I wish nothing but the best
For You Too

Red and Comic exchanged looks. Then, Comic smiled and leaned up for a chaste, affectionate little smooch, which Red was happy to return.

When the song ended, Red and Comic watched Fell meander off the stage, only to be tackled and fawned over by an affectionate Science Sans in big red glasses and a wrinkled labcoat. The two of them shared a kiss also.

Comic chuckled. "guess i won't be seeing him outside my window anymore." He sounded relieved.

"yeah- wait," Red rounded back on his boyfriend. "wuz zat fucker stalkin' ya?! again?!"

"it'd been a few months. chill. he never did more than hold up a boombox and annoy my neighbors."

"i'll fuckin-"

Comic cut Red off with another kiss. "its not worth it. lets just try and be happy, huh?"

Red sighed, pressing his forehead to Comic's. "ok."

They both knew what kind of answer that was, smiling as the depth of its meaning hung in the air, surrounding them in that moment and making everything okay.