How the Cookie Crumbles
Sans and Papyrus’ house loomed over you. The thought of just being in eyeshot of the building made your chest tighten. You’ve done such a good job avoiding them and everyone else for the past week, yet here you are. All because you walked this way in a blind rage. You tensed up when you saw the door knob turn and the front door slowly open. Running away was out of the question, whoever saw you knew you were there. Or maybe they didn’t and just needed to leave the house at the exact moment you found yourself there. You were still stuck in place when your eyes met with the lights of Sans’.
He looked almost as confused as you did terrified. You took a step back, you couldn’t talk to him. Not yet. His eyes dimmed as he saw you back up, before he shoved the hand grasping the handle back into his pocket. The smile on his face looking more strained, he walked calmly closer to you.
Another few steps back. He almost looked pissed after that. Was he angry at you? Was he angry over the fact you didn’t talk to him? Did he hate you once he realized how you really were? Thoughts like those clouded your mind as he closed the distance between you two. Curse your short legs making small steps. Soon he was only a foot away from you, staring you down with intense pits for eyes, any sign of his pupils gone. Suddenly your feet seemed much more interesting.
A skeletal hand to your chin brought your face up to look at him again. His own face inches from yours. No one was saying anything, you just stared at each other's eyes for what seemed to be an eternity. He sighed - oh god you could feel his breath - and backed off, his smile looking sincere again, the lights were back in his eyes too.
“nice to meet ya.”
You stood, completely dumbstruck. He came bounding over you like you had just killed everyone he loved, only have a weird staring contest - oh god he was touching you too - and just greeted you like none of that happened?
“wanna come inside? between you and me, i’m gettin’ pretty chilled to the bone,” he chuckled at your confusion and shot you a wink.
“I, I-I,” you had to stop and take a breath before saying ‘I’ another sixteen times. You couldn’t decline. After all you were a pushover, and you also avoided any actual conversations for the past week. But you had gotten accustomed to not talking to him, and boy you loved being alone. A shrug was the best response, you decided.
Another sigh and an offered hand, “please?” there was a pleading look in his eyes.
“Fine, but you don’t need to hold my hand the whole five feet to your door.” As much as you appreciated the contact, too much made you feel overwhelmed. Last week’s morning popped back into your head. You buried your burning face into your hands from the thought.
Sans gave you a look, “but how will i make it to my door?”
“You’ll just have to deal with it,” you returned the look from a crack between your fingers.
A minute of silence, the two of you ended up in the living, with Sans flipping through the channels on TV. You finally removed your hands from your face, but now they were in your very tense lap. It was always hard to be in a house that wasn’t your own.
“anything you like?”
You shook your head, “I-I don’t really watch anything…”
“really? nothing?” he raised an eyebrow at you.
“Surprise, I’m awkward more than just socially,” you try to joke. The concerned glance told you it didn’t work. Oh well, at least you tried.
“you wanna go grab a bite?” he looked nervous, “all we really have is spaghetti and ketchup.”
You haven’t eaten in awhile. Sans managed to help with your eating problems. Since you didn’t talk to him for a week, they began to slip again. Despite that, you didn’t feel hungry. The thought of food brought an idea to your mind though.
“I’ve got a better idea,” you gave him a mischievous smile and ran to the kitchen, looking for any ingredients the brothers didn’t have. All they had that you cared about was butter and salt. God they really didn’t have anything.
“We’re going grocery shopping!” You shout, turning to see a mildly confused, and slightly worried, Sans in the doorway to the kitchen. “and oh yea, where’s Papyrus?”
“oh uh, he’s havin’ a playdate with the little kiddo,” he answered, still very confused.
“Oh, so we don’t have a form of transportation?”
“i have a ‘bike”
“Great, perfect. Exactly what we needed,” you needed to get your sarcasm checked.
“no, i mean like a motorbike.”
“Oh,” you’re mental shopping list didn’t really agree to the idea, but it was better than nothing, “So where is it?”
“in the garage, where else?”
You just shrugged and ran out, very joyous. Sans watched your back with an amused expression. He really liked this side to you. It was cute. He immediately shoved that thought to the back of his mind, following you with a blue face.
When he got to you outside, you were practically jumping from excitement. You had thought about doing something like this for a while, but you kept forgetting to get ingredients. Whoops. You watched as he opened the garage door and pulled the bike out. It dawned on you that you had no idea how to ride on one, and it was clearly shown on your face.
“relax, you just need to hold on tight and it’ll be fine,” he handed you a helmet.
You took a deep breath in as you put on the helmet, and let the breath out once you sat behind him, “S-so uh, where do I hold tight?”
“waist is prefered.”
Nodding, even though he couldn’t see, you reluctantly wrapped your arms around his waist. Wait, he had one? He was just a skeleton, how???
“magic,” he chuckled, seeming to have read your thoughts, “also, you should probably hold on tighter than that.”
You responded by hugging him tighter. It felt weirdly intimate, even though you knew it wasn’t.
“okay, good. ready?”
“See, I’m probably not but oh well.” you laughed incredibly nervously.
And you were right. You would’ve never been ready. The ride was terrifying and you almost cried. You ended up having to hold onto Sans as you got off, you were shaking too much to stand straight. After you calmed down, the two of you made your way into the store.
Gaining your energy back after the horrifying ride, you rushed to gather all the stuff you needed. Sans inquired you multiple times on what you planned on making, you avoided every question somehow. He was exasperated by the time you got to the self check-out.
“won’t you give me a hint?”
You gestured to the goods in front of you, “This is the hint, silly!” you were too busy scanning and placing the items in the bag to notice the deep blue spread across his face. Everything you said and did in this elevated state was so cute and precious to him. It was decided. He was determined to keep you this happy forever.
Crying did happen on the ride back. You blamed it on the cold wind when he questioned your wet cheeks. You emptied the contents on the kitchen, pretending to cry fake tears of joy when you found out none of the eggs you bought broke.
You smiled to yourself as you pulled off your sweater - it got uncomfortable cooking with the baggy sleeves - and cracked your knuckles. In which Sans responded by shuddering to the sound.
“Oh gosh, was that weird?” your mood dropped a little, worried that you might have upset him.
“nah, well, yeah. but it doesn’t matter. how ‘bout you tell me what’s happening now?”
An innocent smile. You avoided his question once again by directing him what to do. After quite a few minutes, you two had made a nice mix of chocolate chip cookie dough. You snuck a small bit into your mouth before setting clumps down on a tray - thank god they had one - and placing it in the oven, which you almost forgot to preheat. That's what happens when you go by memory.
“Now comes my favorite part. Waiting,” you sigh as you fall into one of the chairs.
Sans sat in the chair closest to you, and watched as you stated somewhat intently at the oven window.
About every ten minutes you would check, and clear out any of the finished cookies onto a rack on the table, doing that until the batch was gone. You would nibble on one of the soft gooey ones while waiting too.
Standing in front of all the warm cookies in front of you, you mentally gave yourself a high five for a job well done. You looked over at Sans with a huge smile on your face to see his reaction, only to find him already looking at you, entrapped in what seemed like adoration? The look quickly dissipated once he noticed you were staring, being replaced with a smug grin.
“so, cookies?”
You nodded, “Yep! I don’t bake often, but it's fun when I do! My mom would bake a lot, so I sort of know some basic recipes by heart now,” you smiled fondly.
“guess you could say you were a chip off the old block.”
You blinked a few times, taking a while to register the pun. Once you did realize it, you broke down in laughter. God, today had been so weird! But you didn't mind. You got to spend time with Sans.
As Sans smiled at your reaction, it really dawned on him how much he cared for you. He had fallen for you. Hard.