Would That Make You Happy?

Frisk is your child, the result of a teen pregnancy, but they've always been told that you're their older sister. In an effort to get away from your own abusive mother, the two of you end up falling into the Underground, where Sans is startled by this abrupt change in what had become a predictable pattern of events. Maybe your presence is what is needed to stop the endless cycle of Resets.

After many struggles, both internal and external, you and your found family reach the surface, only to face even more difficulties from the society you weren't sure you'd ever see again. You meet new friends and encounter people from your past, though for good or ill, you're not sure. Sometimes it's difficult to tell kindness from cunning.

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55. Dinner Date

Mettaton's face is everywhere.

Not his new humanoid one, but the rectangular one. Little neon Mettatons flank the big 'MTT' sign out front, and there's even a fountain of him in the lobby (there's some water damage on the carpet but it looks old). As the host confirms your reservation and leads you and Sans to your table, you can't help but notice that the walls are dotted with stills from various Mettaton movies. The menus look like Mettaton. The tablecloths have Mettaton on them.

Sans glances up at you, the smile that's been affixed to his face since the lab fading just a little. "you okay, babe?" he asks you as you trail behind the host, your hand in the crook of Sans's arm and pressed close to his side.

"He... really likes looking at himself, doesn't he?" you ask, murmuring low enough so that only he can hear. You'd rather not have any of Mettaton's employees hear you.

"there's so much of it you just kinda stop seeing it after a while. it's sorta like a nasty smell; you just get used to it," he says, giving a weak chuckle. "does it bother you?"

You take another cursory glance around the room, more amused than unsettled. "No, not really. It's just so..."

"mettaton?"

You snort, nodding and hiding your face behind your hand as you try to muffle your laughter. The host glances back at you but doesn't say anything as you lean against Sans and take a steadying breath. "Yeah," you say, giggling. "God it's just so outrageous."

Arriving at your table, the host pulls out your chair with a manicured set of claws, pushing it in as you sit down. That's the first time anyone has ever done that for you and to be honest its a little awkward and you think you sit down a bit too soon. You end up having to scoot yourself a little closer, fidgeting with the gauzy layers of your skirt. Sans takes off his blazer (oh, you think that he might look even better in just the collared shirt and waistcoat, and are those heart-shaped cufflinks too?) and drapes it over the back of his chair, shooing the host away with a flick of his hand.

"Your server will be with you shortly," they say, giving you a nod and leaving you with your Mettaton-shaped menus.

Sans raises a brow and reaches out to take hold of a brass cube sitting on the table. There's a tealight candle inside and it —of course— also looks like a little Mettaton. He twists it a little from side to side, then lets go and sits back in his chair. "wanna make a bet on how many mettatons we find in our room later?"

It takes a moment for his words to register in your brain because you're staring. You want to tug at that knot in his tie and pull him over the table, or take hold of his waistcoat and start to undo the buttons. By the time your eyes flick back up to his face he's giving you a crooked smirk, and you think you see a hint of blue painted over his cheekbones. Your own face is starting to feel a bit hot, too. "That, uh, depends. How big is the room?"

Sans's smile widens, but if he notices your blush he doesn't say anything. "it's a full suite. sitting room, bedroom, bathroom."

"What are we betting on?" you ask. You lace your fingers together and rest your arms flat on the table, leaning forward a little. Sans's eyes flick down to your cleavage, lingering for a second before returning to your face.

"i get the feeling we both want the same thing," he murmurs, reaching up to trace his finger from the knot in his tie to the top of his vest. To the casual observer it might seem like he was just smoothing his tie, but no. That was definitely something suggestive.

You level your gaze at him, raising a brow and fighting the urge to find his leg under the table with your foot. Plenty of time for that. "Thirteen," you say.

Sans blinks. "huh?"

"Thirteen Mettatons." You smirk a little, pleased with yourself. "What do you think?"

"oh, uh..." He looks a little flustered as he glances down at his menu. "well, this is mettaton we're talking about. i'm gonna say twenty."

As you wait for your server, you decide to take a look at the menu as well. The moment you open it you're greeted with a quarter-page sized glossy photo of a steak in the shape of Mettaton's face. "I think I may have underestimated the strength of Mettaton's narcissism."

Laughing, Sans flips to the back to the drinks and desserts. "too late now. you've already guessed. he takes the ton in mettaton very literally i guess."

You turn the page. "Oh good, there's some food that isn't shaped like a rectangle."

"i don't care what it looks like, i'm getting the most expensive thing on the menu."

"Oh wow, Sansy is that you?"

Sansy? You and Sans look up from your menus as your server arrives. The first thing your brain comes up with is 'sheep'. Her thick, wooly hair is styled into a soft, fluffy bob that's shockingly pink. It matches her vibrant collared shirt and the little rings of wool around her wrists. She reminds you of a groomed poodle. The rest of her that you can see is trim, cream-colored fur that's especially fine on her face. Two big, watery blue eyes are fixed on Sans, flashing blunted teeth in a bright smile.

"oh, hey bo, long time no see," he says, giving her a friendly grin. 

You wonder how they know each other, then vaguely recall that he said something about doing comedy here at the resort before. It doesn't help the little annoyed feeling that's building in the back of your head.

"It sure has been a hot minute since I've seen you around here, and I almost didn't recognize you in those clothes! Aren't you handsome?" She reaches out to rest a hand on his shoulder, giggling before she lets him go. You fight the urge to grit your teeth. Bo turns to look at you, giving you the same sweet smile that she gave him. Maybe... maybe she's just friendly. You feel the little twinge of jealousy start to settle a bit.  "Never would have thought to see you back here. With a date no less! I haven't seen anyone like you around, honey, where are you and your family from?"

"she's from snowdin," he cuts in, answering for you. You're glad, because you hadn't even thought of coming up with any kind of backstory for yourself. No one ever really asked you anything about it back in Snowdin.

"Oh golly, isn't it cold for you there? I mean, you don't even have any fur to keep warm," Bo says, pretending to shiver. "I don't know how you stand it, I love being here by the Core. It's nice and warm."

Sans gives her a big smile. “are ewe saying that i should be cold in snowdin? i don't have any fur, you know.”

Bo giggles again, giving his shoulder a playful smack. Oh, there's that ugly feeling again. You look down at your menu so you don't have to see the way she's smiling at him. "You joker, not everyone is all warm bones like you!"

How does she know he's warm?

"i know, the cold just goes right through me." You can hear the wink in his voice. He's this way with everyone, but for some reason it's grating on you. "but it's sweet of you to worry about my girl, bo. but you don't need to, i make sure she stays nice and warm."

Oh. You blush, looking up in time to see Sans give you an affectionate smile. Bo titters behind a raised hand, beaming at you. "Aren't you two adorable!" she says, looking thrilled. "Now, now, I'm sorry to interrupt your date, let me get your drinks while you take a look at the menu." Bo pulls a small notepad and pencil out of her pocket, shifting closer to you with an expectant look.

"do you wanna split a bottle of wine?" Sans asks, looking at the drink list.

You feel Bo's big watery eyes on you and you fidget a little, an unsettled feeling stirring in your stomach that has nothing to do with Sans or Bo. "Um, no I think I'll just stick to water."

"Well you just tell me if you want anything different, honey," Bo says, shifting her hips and reaching out to touch your arm. She winks at you. "I can get you whatever you want."

You blush a little and you hear Sans chuckle. "i'll have water too, for now. we'll let you know if we want something else, bo. thanks."

"Sounds great, I'll be back."

"in the shake of a lamb's tail?" Sans winks at you and you smile.

"Now there's one I haven't heard in a while," Bo says, laughing. "Leave it to Sansy."

You wait for Bo to walk away before raising a manicured brow at Sans. "Sansy?" you ask.

Sans shrugs. "bo's like that with everyone."

"I noticed," you say, rubbing your arm and giving an embarrassed laugh.

"hey, you know you don't have to worry about the cost of any of this. get whatever you want. wine, mettaton-shaped steak, anything," he says, reaching across the table with his hand palm-up.

You slip your hand into his and he gives it a squeeze. Had you not mentioned this before? But, when would it have come up? "That's not why I didn't want wine. It, um... I can't stand the smell. Mom used to, well I guess she still does... She drinks wine. More than she should." You bite the inside of your lip and Sans squeezes your hand again. You look up at Sans, feeling suddenly selfish. "But you get whatever you want! I don't want you to worry about me, it's fine."

"babe, c'mon. i'm not gonna do anything that might make you uncomfortable. especially not if it has something to do with her." The way he grimaces and growls out the word makes you smile.

"Thanks," you say, a swell of affection pushing everything else you're feeling away. You're here, with Sans, on a fancy date. It's all that matters.

The tension leaves his face and he rubs his thumb across the back of your hand. "so," he says pointedly. "maybe we should figure out what we want to eat."

Dinner is amazing and Bo is the perfect amount of attentive yet absent as you make your way through an appetizer and the main course. About halfway through your Mettaton-shaped steak (there's something oddly satisfying about cutting him into little pieces, and you have to admit it's a damn good steak) you slip a foot out of one of your shoes so that you can snake your toes under the hem of Sans's trousers. He shifts his leg closer to you with only the barest hint of a smirk as he picks at his food. Turns out that the most expensive thing on the menu isn't necessarily the tastiest.

He doesn't make the same mistake with dessert. But before you realize it Bo is taking away your plates and you and Sans sit there and regard each other across the table.

"So, what now?" you ask him, folding up the napkin in your lap and setting it on the table in front of you.

Sans balls up his napkin and puts it beside his unused silverware. He glances over at the stage set in the corner of the restaurant where there's a trio of monsters playing some light music. There's also a small dance floor, where a handful of couples are swaying together. "um." He looks a little uncomfortable.

"I'd rather not worry about stepping on your feet," you admit, much to Sans's relief.

"we could go for a walk. the resort's pretty big. i dunno about you, but i'm happy just spending time alone with you. doesn't need to be anything fancy." Sans shrugs, but then gives you a hesitant look. "unless there's something you wanna do."

You're smiling —probably blushing a little— happy and most certainly loved. "That sounds perfect."

"ok. cool," he says, and he sounds so pleased that you can't help the way that your smile widens even more. You love seeing him this way. You love seeing him happy and knowing that it's because of you.

It swells inside your chest almost painfully, the affection and joy you feel as he gets up from his chair and shrugs his blazer back on before coming to offer you his hand. You let him help you to your feet. He crooks his arm for you to take it but instead you lace your fingers together and guide your joined hands into his pocket, leaning close to rest your other hand against his sleeve. "I love you," you murmur, soft and private, because it's the only way to alleviate this pressure in your chest. You need to tell him, need him to hear it and know it before you burst.

As the two of you start heading for the exit, wrapped on his arm, he looks up at you like you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. "i love you too. are you having a good time so far?"

"Of course. Can't wait to see what else you've got in store for me," you say, making a pleased sound.

Sans hesitates, but you're not sure why. He nods at the host as they hold the door open for you as you head into the main lobby of the hotel, but he makes a noise like he wants to say something but can't think of the words. That's strange. You're about to ask him if something's wrong when he starts to laugh. Really laugh. "i can't believe it," he says, shaking his head and laughing some more.

"What, what's so funny?" you ask, smiling and curious. 

"i'm sure i should have had a joke there, but..." He meets your eyes and another happy chuckle escapes him. His smile has taken over his eyes, and no matter how hard you look you can't see anything hidden behind that grin. "i can't think of anything. all i can think about is you."

   
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