darude

Prompt: Sans getting caught in an above ground storm for the first time. (11/21)

You tapped your fingers absentmindedly on the bar of the restaurant, wondering why you were still sitting there alone. Sans was definitely lazy, and slacked off at work sometimes, but he was never late for your weekly dates at Grillbys. You sat at the bar for another large chunk of time, growing increasingly worried as the patrons began to thin out and the sky grew darker. Sipping absentmindedly at the drink in front of you, you alternated between shooting worried glances at the door and the clock above the bar.

A low rumble of thunder snapped you out of your thoughts. Your head shot up and you met Grillby’s gaze. He took a pause from wiping down the bar long enough for you to see him point at the umbrella rack by the door to the restaurant.

Your eyes widened at the hint and you began to clumsily pull money out of your pocket to leave on the bar.

“See you, Grillbz,” you said, swiping your coat from the stool next to you and dashing out the door.

You ran in the direction of Sans’ aboveground hot dog stand in the park, raindrops beginning to dot the pavement around you. As you approached the small wooden stand, you noticed it was empty. The wind from the storm had blown around some napkins and knocked a bottle of mustard onto the ground, splattering it in the dirt in front of the stand.

Wet, yellow footsteps led to the grass and into the forest behind you. You shivered, wringing out the water making the sleeves of your jacket heavy. The storm began to pick up as you pushed your way past leaves and branches to continue your search.

Thankfully, you quickly found the skeleton crouched under the covering of a thick willow tree, seemingly shaken but unharmed. Sans had his hood up and was zoned out staring at a small, bright blue flame he had flickering from the tip of his finger.

“Hey there, scaredybones,” you smiled, carefully stepping over the tree’s thick roots to sit beside him at the foot of its trunk.

He chuckled and looked over towards you, white lights returning to both of his eye sockets.

“Not used to thunderstorms yet?”

“see, most weather has a tendon-cy to stay the same down below, so…”

“So you’re not scared and the storm just caught you off guard, right?”

“right.”

“You could have just texted me to meet you back at home.”

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and flipped it open for you to see. You could clearly tell the screen was waterlogged and a few of the buttons refused to light up.

You laughed and nuzzled your head into Sans’ shoulder, unintentionally feeling just how soaked his jacket was. A sharp flash of lightning accompanied loud crack of thunder caused him to jump ever so slightly, so you placed one of your arms around him and pulled him closer to your side. Sans reached over brushed his fingers across your cheek, bones slick from the rain. He couldn’t believe just how perfect you looked, even with wet hair dripping down your face.

“this would be really nice if we were bone dry as opposed to soaking wet.”

Kissing the top of his head, you pulled him to his feet. You gave him a reassuring smile and with a quick flash, the two of you were standing outside the door to your shared house. You snickered at the wet squelch Sans’ slippers made on the doormat.

Upon entering the house, you found a note from Papyrus stating that he had gone over to Undyne’s earlier in the day to watch some sort of new human cooking show and was planning to sleep over there. You and Sans left your soaking wet shoes at the door before making your way down the hall to your bedroom. You stood in the doorway, shivering, distracted by the sight of Sans stripping down to his boxers. Today they had bottles of ketchup on them. Classy.

“sorry, babe, it’s my fault you’re chilled to the bone now.” He said, helping you out of your soaking wet jacket.

“”Ss not your fault,” you mumbled, peeling your shirt off. “You’ve never had to deal with a storm up here before.”

Sans took your hand in his and led you over to your bed, gesturing for you to lay down with him. You complied and curled up next to him, pulling the blanket over both of you. As his bones began to glow a light blue, the space the two of you took up grew warmer. It would be easy to drift off to sleep feeling like this; warm, toasty, and protected.

You reached out to Sans, taking his hand in one of yours while using the other to trace lightly over his ribs.

“You know,” you said, while you line up your fingers with the bones in his hand, “at least it wasn’t a Sans-storm. You’d be shaking that stuff out for weeks.”