Save Point (Sans x Reader)

Extra #14: And They Were Roommates

Note that the following extra features the five days spent in Sans's house before plot and chaos stood in the way of everything (or basically what happened after moving in/before Chapter 50), lol.

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Day 1: The Kitchen

"So," you begin, losing your train of thought. The grand display of colours deems it difficult for you to say anything else, distracted by each new thing you come across with. "I take it Papyrus didn't bring his. . . recipe items with him?"

Confused at first, it only takes a glance at the open pantry for Sans to grin, a chuckle escaping his teeth. "He left them for you," he explains, approaching your side. "Said it's a house-warming gift to celebrate you guys movin' in."

"This is too much, though. I. . . I don't even know how to thank him!" You scan the items, varying from staple ingredients like all-purpose flour, boxed milk, and baking powder, and growing more complex with a wide variety of spices, nuts, and herbs for both savoury and sweet foods.

"Just him knowin' you received the gift's enough. The promotion also came with a heftier raise, so it ain't a sacrifice, if that's what yer worryin' about."

You hum, crossing your arms as you try to search your mind for anything that might be useful -- a hint over Papyrus's interests beyond that of cooking. The red scarf he almost always seemed to wear rises among your thoughts, urging you to bring that up. "What about finding him a scarf?"

"If that'll make ya worry less about this, then sure." Sans's irises glint with amusement. You can feel him stand behind you, one arm grabbing your waist while his free hand goes to grab yours, keeping you from holding the pantry open any longer. "Would you believe me if I said he has multiple red scarfs? They all look the same at a first glance, but they're each a different shade. Think he doesn't have crimson yet, if you're thinkin' about givin' 'im one."

Sans gives you some space to turn around, though he keeps you in place, between the kitchen isle and himself, keeping his gaze focused on you. "Kind of like how you have more than one jacket?" you tease, grabbing his current one. "This one looks different from yesterday's. A lot less dark, and with a fluffier hoodie."

"We'd have to be livin' together for you to notice that difference," he retorts, snickering as his grip on your waist tightens. "It's too subtle for a stranger like you to notice."

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Day 2: The Living Room

Your thighs grow numb, the weigh of Sans's head obliging you to stay in place, against waking him up just yet. Faust is already sleeping, and with school being put on hold for the holidays, you figure it wouldn't be bad staying up until late. When a commercial break airs, you begin staring down at Sans's face, unguarded due to him being asleep -- a heavy slumber, you assume, based on how shaky his snores are, and how much he cozies up to you.

You boop the upper part of his nose cavity, chuckling when you remember the night at the beach and his sneeze. Then, you bring your hand over to his eye sockets, tracing the dark semicircles under them, long-imprinted there for hours of lost rest. He shifts, halting your observation as you instead wait for him to go back to sleep. Leaning in, you press a kiss against his cheekbone, grazing that spot with your knuckles when you pull away.

"I can feel every lil' thing you're doin' to me, (Y/N)," the monster states, almost making you flinch when you see his sockets open again, white irises bright as he grins, holding the hand you'd placed over his cheekbone. "Wanna hit the bed now? Figure your lap must be gettin' tired with how big-boned I am."