Save Point (Sans x Reader)

Chapter Twenty-One

Third Person POV

Sans’s Perspective

“So how’s yer (girlfriend/boyfriend) doing these days?” Gerson asks, setting down a small stack of papers on his desk before getting to look at Sans, who was busy helping him move twice the amount of luggage into the office.

Though the turtle monster had lived a long life and accomplished numerous things ever since he was young, some things were becoming harder to do with each passing year. Now, he needed help with simple tasks. Simply moving a stack of graded papers and diplomas back into his office was hard for him at his age. Sans had offered to help, given the school was clean and the students were all inside the classrooms, busy taking their two p.m. classes.

“My what?” the skeleton questions, arching an eye socket as mirth slips from his tone. “I’m not going out with anyone.”

“(Miss/Mister) (L/N),” he clarifies. “Haven’t heard from ‘em in a while. Didn’t ya always visit their house on Fridays, but then stopped aluva sudden?”

Sans places the papers down on the desk and wipes a few drops of sweat from his forehead, the hot day letting him know summer was just around the corner along with its companion: humidity. Not even the air conditioner seemed to be working with how high the temperature was.

He slides his hands inside his front pockets and turns to look at the elderly monster, aware he was in danger of being reeled into a long conversation about his relationship with (Y/N) -- a topic he’d been trying to avoid ever since the turtle found out he was printing the credit transcript for Faust.

“Yeah, but their kid switched schools, so I don’t get to do that anymore.”

Gerson hums at the former tutor’s quick response, a smile making his wrinkly expression soften and for his working eye to narrow with interest. Sans grows even more uncertain of what direction he’s about to be pulled into, fearing the conversation would only deepen further if he added too many details regarding that topic.

“And why’re ya acting all chummy with a human, anyway? Didn’t ya say you didn’t trust most of ‘em a while back?”

“I never said that,” Sans objects, sending a disapproving look his way. “I just don’t like how some of ‘em treat Frisk and every other person who’s in favour of Tori foundin’ this school.”

“Yer hung up about the past, ain’t ya? None of us were ready for what happened -- Not even Fluffybuns expected that much hostility from the Surface.”

“I ain’t thinking about the past. That’s just how things are.”

“Sans, my boy, I’ve lived long enough to know you're stuck right now. Heck, I’ve lived through plenty of those feelings myself! Sure, life ain’t always pretty or peachy -- most of the time it's not. But now that you've made friends with (Y/N), you should pay attention to how much distance you’ve kept and how much of it you've closed with them.”

“I’m doing that already,” Sans remarks, setting another stack of papers down with a dull thud. 

“I figured you’d say that!” Gerson comments, a cackle making his smile grow wider. “Why, it was yer brother who convinced ya to make friends with ‘em, wasn’t it? But even then -- Think about what I’ve said, Sans. I don’t wanna see ya lose that friendship with them now that their kid’s outta the picture. You’ve got no pretext to hang out with them now, but you can still keep in touch if you like (Y/N) enough.”

★

“Sans?”

(Y/N) calling out his name makes him stop and think about what he’s doing. He looks down to see his hand on their knee, the fabric of their work uniform being the only thing to keep distance between him and them. A little too quickly, he pulls back and scoots away, facing every other direction except their eyes. They don’t seem fazed through plain sight, though by further observation, he can see they're just as reluctant to face him directly.

Sans shakes his head and dismisses their worry with the wave of his hand, falling back into the swing of things with the sound of the city and people walking to and back the streets. (Y/N)’s work uniform and the yellow folder they’re holding onto makes him remember just what was he talking about before he drifted away from the conversation.

“Sorry about that,” he speaks up, coughing away the startle from being caught with his head in the clouds -- plus a hand on their knee. “I was talkin’ with a co-worker before this, and it just got me thinking.”

“About what?” they ask, a smile on their face.

He stops to think on whether he should truly say what’s on his mind or not. It’s hard for him to put it into words without making them think he didn’t enjoy their company. Though he had tried his best to follow Papyrus’s advice on how to maintain his friendship with the human, he wasn’t too sure about it now that Gerson had called him out on that. He was still getting used to the subject of making new friends, and it was harder to do now that he couldn’t seem to feel at ease when being too close to (Y/N).

After some thought, Sans settles on the former, realizing he kept silence for just a little too long. “About how I’ve been acting around you,” he replies, meeting with their curious stare. He stops to find further words to include in his explanation, already seeing confusion settle on their face. “I don’t know if I’ve been too distant or not, but I want you to know that, uh, you’ve been a pretty good friend, (Y/N). That phone call we had the other day. . . You can call me when you need someone to talk to -- You don’t need to keep everything all to yourself.”

He stops to look at (Y/N), their raised eyebrow and barely contained smile making it known he’d been rambling. They don’t say anything, however, and only wait for him to continue with his train of thought.

“So I guess what I want you to know’s that, aside from the former tutor of your son, I’m your friend -- And I’m sorry if it didn’t translate as that before.”

“What are you even saying, Sans?” (Y/N) asks, an honest, spirited laugh making their face light up with joy. “That’s about the last thing you need to clarify with me. After all the things you’ve done for me -- for us. . . How can I not see you as a friend?”

Sans leans back even further when having them shift on the park bench, their presence just a little too close for what his mind was going through at the moment. A single, loud honk from one of the passing cars makes him snap out of it and encourages him to look at (Y/N) again.

“I can’t reject saying that hearing you say all that helps clear up some stuff, but you don’t need to act that way around me. I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again,” The human stops to grin at him, playfully jabbing a finger against his chest -- more specifically, the center of his ribcage. “You’re a dork. . . But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”