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.


58. Pressure

"Okay, is a set of slippers one or two?" You bend over to pick up the pair of rectangular, Mettaton-shaped slippers, then turn around to face Sans where he's sitting on the bed. His eyes are stuck on your hips, and you realize that he must have gotten an eyeful of your ass when you leaned over, his dress shirt not quite long enough to cover you or the red, lacy underwear. Smirking, you clear your throat. "Hun?"

Sans blinks, looking up at your face. "huh?"

You hold up the aforementioned slippers, chuckling. "One or two? It's a pair."

"uh, two," Sans decides, shrugging.

You purse your lips. "Okay, but you said the curtains was just one, and there's two panels."

"then the curtains are two," he says. He goes back to picking at a large, ornate slice of chocolate cake with a Mettaton-stamped fork. ("That wasn't in the room when we got here, that one doesn't count.")

"Well I guess it doesn't matter. We were both wrong. There's at least twenty-five of them so far and I haven't made it through the bathroom yet." You sigh and shake your head, dropping the slippers down on the floor.

"c'mon, we got all this food—"

"You. You got all this food."

"i got all this food for both of us, come and have some," Sans says, jabbing his fork at the myriad of desserts sitting on the bedspread. About four plates in addition to the one in his hand; one of everything off the restaurant's menu.

"No, I'm determined to see how many I can find," you grumble, ducking into the bathroom. You're greeted by two Mettaton-patterned towels, and two robes with little Mettatons scattered over the fabric. You let out a loud groan. "Oh my God."

"okay, i think that's enough," Sans says from your side, and you start laughing as he ducks down to wrap his arms around your thighs.

With a cry of surprise, he lifts you off your feet and you grab hold of his shoulders to hold your self steady. "Sans!" you yelp, giggling down at him as he carries you back into the bedroom.

"what can i say, i always wanted to sweep you off your feet," he says, grinning up at you with an amused expression. With his hand planted on one butt cheek, he gives you an appreciative squeeze before setting you back down on the ground beside the bed. "now, stop scouring the room and have some cake. or pie. or whatever that other thing is. with the weird filling you said is made of some kind of cheese."

"The cannolis," you say, shaking your head.

"sure. that one."

You give him a lopsided smile, brushing one of his cheekbones with your hand and kissing the other before giving in and crawling onto the bed. Propping yourself up with some pillows, you decide that the cannolis do sound good and grab one of them off the plate. Instead of following you, Sans goes over to the suitcase that was here waiting for you when you arrived. Mettaton brought it up and left it so that neither of you had to worry about it while on your date. As you pick pastry crumbs off your cleavage (very sexy), Sans fishes out a pair of gray sweatpants and tugs them on.

"you know," Sans says as he takes the spot next to you, squashing a pillow behind his back. He picks up the plate with the half-eaten cake and settles in comfortably with his leg against yours. "if you're gonna make a habit of wearing my dress shirts like that after we go somewhere fancy... i might have to find some reasons to dress up more often."

"Well, I can think of something that you need to wear a suit for. Well, a tux really." You pause, licking sweetened ricotta filling off your fingers. Nervous all of a sudden, you glance over at Sans as he watches you. "I mean, unless monster, um, weddings are different."

"sort of. depends on the monsters," Sans says, shrugging. "can't say i've been to any human weddings though. seen 'em in movies."

"I know you said you weren't exactly planning on proposing. Maybe we should..." You trail off, pulling your knees up to your chest and wrapping your arms around your legs. "I dunno... take a step back I guess."

"is that what you want?" he asks, and you feel his hand on the side of your face as he pushes your hair over your shoulder.

You tilt your head to look at him and his thumb brushes the corner of your eye, making you smile. "I just don't want you to feel pressured. I don't want to pressure you."

"is that what frisk's dad told you? that he felt pressured?" Sans says, an edge to his voice even as his expression is warm. His hand on your cheek is tender and affectionate.

You shrug, resting your chin on your knee. "Yeah, basically."

"hey, look at me. come here." He tugs on your arm gently, unwrapping you from the tight ball you wound yourself into. He sets his plate aside so he can pull you to him and rest back into the pillows. With a hand under your chin, he tilts your head up to meet his eyes. "if i feel pressured, i'll talk to you about it. we'll find a solution and we'll move forward. together. i'm not gonna just run away. look, i don't make the choice to commit to anybody casually, and i committed to you a long time ago, even if there weren't any fancy words spelling it out. so don't think i'm gonna give up on us just cuz things get a little uncomfortable, which right now they're not. ok?"

"Okay," you mumble and he lets you go after giving you a tight squeeze. You're a little flushed, a fluttering feeling making your chest feel light as you smile at him. How does he know the perfect things to say?

"anything else bothering you that i can reassure you of?" he asks, grinning.

You bite your lip, settling into the pillows at his side as you glance at the cake next to him. Watching your face, he picks up the plate and fills his fork, holding it out for you. Leaning forward, you let him feed you, giving him a shy smile as you pull away. He follows the path of your tongue as you lick chocolate icing off your lips.

"Um... there is actually one thing," you admit, shaking your head as he offers you another bite. He eats it instead, scraping it off with his teeth. He gives you a curious look. "Usually people talk about like... plans for the future before making these kinds of commitments. Things like... kids?"

Sans blinks. "what about kids?"

You sigh, running a hand through your hair and tugging it out from behind your back. "Like if we want to have any. Or any more in my case." Your eyes flick up to his face, his expression is blank. "If that's even possible."

"it's not. your biology and my magic don't really mix the right way. not for a kid at least," he says, winking. His smile seems a little forced as his attempt at a lewd joke falls flat.

"And are you okay with that? With the fact that I can't give you a child of your own?" Something uncomfortable twists in the pit of your stomach. Maybe this is the thing he didn't think about, the thing that might make him second-guess this decision. Kids are really important to people, and when those hopes don't line up—

"you already did. i have frisk now."

"Oh," you say, startled and smiling. The twisting in your stomach fades and is replaced by a swell of affection in your chest, so full it makes you tear up a little. You give a small laugh, blotting your eyes with the ends of Sans's sleeves, embarrassed. "Sans, that's... Thank you. Really. I never thought that Frisk would ever get a dad as great as you."

He reaches out to take your hand, threading your fingers together and giving you a tender look. "i dunno about great, but i admit i never really thought about kids." Sans gives a weak shrug. "i didn't think i'd have the chance to have a family, other than papyrus."

"Why not?" you ask, searching his face as you squeeze his hand.

His eyes are on your joined hands, watching his thumb trace over your skin. A small furrow forms between his brows before it smooths away, then he looks up at you. "never thought i'd meet anyone who'd wanna put up with my hilarious jokes, i guess," he says, giving you a grin.

There's something he's not telling you hiding behind that smile, but you don't push. Things are too nice right now for you to want to spoil them. Instead you lean in close as Sans fills up his fork with chocolate cake, and let him feed you another bite.

Refreshed from a nice hot shower, you take a moment to survey the marks left on your neck and shoulders last night. You trace the bruises with your fingers, smiling to yourself as you stretch from side to side. He definitely did a number on you, but damn if it wasn't worth every last mark. You feel claimed, wanted and desired. The familiar ache in your thighs has nothing to do with the bruises there from his teeth and fingers.

You blow dry your hair enough that it's not dripping anymore, too impatient to finish all the way. Your hair is so thick it always takes forever. Then, wrapped up in a towel, you head out to the bedroom. It's already noon but Sans is still asleep. He has your pillow locked in a vice grip and he's curled up near the side of the bed where you were before getting up. Despite the absolutely enormous bed the two of you slept right next to each other, starting out cuddled together before you drifted apart to get more comfortable, but still touching.

Passing the bed, you head to your shared suitcase and get dressed. Your normal clothes are less glamorous than your dress from last night, but it's nice to be back to normal. At the very least, it's a lot more comfortable in jeans and sneakers instead of chiffon and heels.

"Sans," you murmur, rocking his shoulder gently. He doesn't budge. "Hun."


You stroke up and down his arm for a moment until he finally blinks his eyes open, looking up at you and squinting. "hrmm?" he grumbles, crushing the pillow tighter to his chest.

"It's noon, I'm gonna go get something to eat. Do you want anything?" you ask, smiling.

"where are you going?" he asks. The lights in his eyes get a little brighter as he wakes up a bit more, but they're still dim and a little blurry at the edges.

"Just downstairs. There was a burger place in the lobby, I think." You reach up to stroke his brow and he closes his eyes again, burrowing back down into the pillows and blankets.

"don't worry about it. i'll get room service later or something. don't forget the room key."

"I got it, hun."

"and take your phone."

"Already in my pocket."

"ok. i love you."

"I love you too. Get some more sleep."

He gives you a sleepy grumble of agreement that has you chuckling as you give him a quick kiss on the crown of his skull. Then, snatching up the room key from the coffee table, you head out of the room by yourself.

The lobby is quiet when you reach it, save for the monster at the check in counter and a few more waiting by the elevator into the city. You pass them in silence, heading into the fast food restaurant emblazoned with a MTT logo and a picture of a burger.

It's empty except for a single employee behind the counter. He's leaning against it with one hand, taking a lazy drag from his cigarette. The sound of the door makes him jump, and the shift from bored to panicky happens in less than a second. The catlike monster's hand slips on the edge of the counter and he almost doesn't keep his balance, stumbling a little as he drops the cigarette to the floor and snubs it out with a foot.

Plastering a smile onto his face, he manages to blurt out, "Welcome to MTT-Brand Burger Emporium, home of the Glamburger. Sparkle up your day."

"Uh, hello," you say, looking up at the menu in an attempt at letting the employee regain his composure. You fight the urge to cringe from second hand embarrassment, wishing you could go out and come back in again and do it all over again. "Sorry about that."

He makes a little squeak in the back of his throat, like he wants to say something but decides against it. You look at him again, standing rigid behind the register, and notice his nametag. 'Burgerpants' huh? That's... different. "How can I help you?"

Studying the menu again, you're a little put off by the picture of a bright purple burger and, oh God, are those sequins? You're fairly certain that edible sequins just don't exist. The sandwich looks normal enough, even if it is shaped like a sword. "I'll have a, uh, legendary hero I guess," you say.

"Coming right up, little buddy," he says turning to a prep station with a look of relief.

Realizing you didn't think to bring any money, you clear your throat to get his attention again. He glances over his shoulder as he grabs what looks like a sword-shaped baguette. "Do you have a way of charging the bill to my room?"

"Sure thing. What the number and the name the reservation is under?" he asks, starting work on the sandwich.

"Uh," you mutter, pulling the key out of your pocket to check the tag. "404. It might be under 'Sans' but Mettaton is the one that made the reservation so I'm not sure."

Burgerpants freezes, his shoulders going rigid before he turns slowly to face you, a look of horror on his face. "Y-you're friends with Mettaton? You're not gonna tell him you caught me slacking off are you?" he asks, his voice a hissing whisper as he glances around like he's looking for someone watching him.

Your eyes widen in surprise, taken aback. "Oh, no! Look, it's okay, calm down. Mettaton just owed us a favor. It's a long story. Please, he's... definitely not someone I'd call a friend," you say, shaking your head and grimacing.

His relief is palpable, his entire body going limp as his face goes slack. Shit is this guy high strung. "Oh good. Look, lemme tell you, you do not want to work for that guy. He's..." Burgerpants starts trembling, shaking his head and turning back to work on your hero. "He's the worst boss I've ever had. I'd quit if I thought I could do anything else. I wanted to be an actor! But now I'm nineteen and I've wasted my whole life and all I have is this horrible job. When I said I wanted to work with Mettaton this isn't what I meant." He turns to look at you, pointing with a leaf of lettuce. "Take it from me, buddy. Be careful what you wish for."

"I'll keep that in mind," you tell him solemnly, wondering how this guy got so jaded at nineteen, just a year younger than you. You think you blame Mettaton.

A moment later he has your sandwich all wrapped up for you and he's punching your reservation information into the computerized register. "You have a good one on my behalf, okay little buddy? Since I'm stuck here." Burgerpants gives a half-hysterical laugh that cuts off abruptly, then his mouth curls into a wide smile.

A little creeped out, you just nod and take your food. "Sure thing. I'll do my best." Then you make a quick exit.

You pause outside the door, taking in a deep breath as you shake your head to yourself. That was... just strange. Pausing to check your phone, you don't have any new messages so you decide to try and find that little courtyard from earlier. You think it'll be nice to eat outside (well, outside by comparison) with the trees and flowers instead of trying not to wake Sans. Besides, he can use the sleep after all the work he did last night. With a self-satisfied smile, you head down the hall you know leads to the courtyard.

The stained glass doors swing open as you approach them, and you're pleasantly surprised to see Bo coming in. She's dressed in her waitress uniform, flicking through a cell phone before glancing up and spotting you. Her face breaks out into a bright smile. "Oh my gosh, imagine bumping into you again! How are you? Where's Sans?" she asks, bouncing a little on her toes.

You can't help but smile back, her giddiness infectious. "He's upstairs, still sleeping. I just wanted to get some lunch," you say, gesturing with your sandwich.

She covers her mouth with a hand, giggling. "Oh I bet he's tired," she says, winking at you. You barely have time to blush before she's gasping and looking at her phone again. "Sorry to gossip and run but I have to get back to work. It was great seeing you again, honey!"

And with that Bo runs off after giving you a rushed and awkward, shoulder-squeezing hug. You watch her turn the corner before heading out into the courtyard, chuckling to yourself. This place sure is filled with some... interesting people.

The courtyard is pretty much the same as it was at night, just brighter. The lampposts are off and crystals far overhead illuminate the Underground with pale light that you can almost mistake for sunlight. With no one else in sight, you take a spot on a nearby bench, right next to a bed of red flowers. You take a moment to just relax into the seat, sighing before you look at the sandwich in your lap.

Your sock feels a little tight around your ankle all of a sudden, so you set the hero down on the bench beside you and lean down to tug on the leg of your jeans. The pressure is uncomfortable. What you don't expect to find is a thin, bright green vine curling right above your shoe.


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