there's no way this won't be great

[skelepun]

Who: Sans + Toriel + Ivan + Frisk
When: April 14th/morning of the 15th
Where: Gardens, bars, and rooms
What: The goat asks out the skeleton. The skeleton gets drunk. The hunk teaches the skeleton how to be a player. The kid learns what a hangover is. Fun for everyone.
Warnings: Drunkenness? Hurt goat feelings? Ivan?


gardens; closed to toriel

There are a few similarities between the gardens here and the Waterfall marshes. Despite every logical impulse, it is easy to pretend for a little while that the sky stretching above isn't a cavern ceiling or ship's hull. With just a hair of concentrated effort, those trappings of reality melt away into something wholly imagined. The glitter of crystals turn to stars, and the shine of light off metal becomes the sun.

It's peaceful. With the feeling of grass poking up between the gaps in his bones, Sans can't remember when he fell asleep and isn't keen on waking just yet. Even the warmth feels like the genuine article, soaking into his bones like a heat lamp. As reality drips in clearer, bit by bit, Sans notices that warmth is located to his back specifically. Another few seconds remind him that the grip around his rib isn't, in fact, a furry blanket -- rather, it's a furry arm, pressed in close and in a position he definitely didn't remember falling asleep in.

So much for staying asleep.

"Whoa, uh." He leans up and away, rubbing at his eye socket and feeling like the world's littlest spoon. "Hey, T." Nudge nudge. "Wake up, Tori. Think we conked out."

bar; closed to ivan

Well. That went well.

Toriel was many things, and kind might top the list. Maybe if she were to get angry at him, or ask for an explanation, or even react beyond quiet understanding, Sans would feel less low right now. He would be so content to coast along as best friends, full satisfied by that arrangement. Companionship without complications or strings. Sans' favorite kind.

She was just so understanding. Ironic, considering Sans understood only about 10% of his own reaction. Even more ironic, the person he wishes he could talk to about this, the person he's sure would have all the answers he needs, is Toriel herself.

Welp. Sans would just have to resort to his second best friend: ketchup. Maybe Miles would be back tonight. Sans wasn't hopeful -- he might not have ears, but he kept them to the walls all the same, and word was Miles had some further recouping to do -- but today was a day of surprises.

Of course, Sans was wrong about everything except for the surprise part.

"'Sup, Ivan." He nods, sliding up onto a stool. "Usual, please. Extra vinegary, if you have it."

nomo deck; closed to frisk

If Sans didn't know any better, he would be sure there were hamsters skittering around in his skull. Hamsters with tiny hammers tied to their tiny feet, pounding with each frantic footfall.

Hamster hammers. There's a pun in there somewhere, but it's a testament to how prominent the ache in his head is that Sans can't think of one for the life of him.

He had a reason for setting his alarm this morning, but pulling the covers over his skull takes precedent. Whatever or whoever it is can wait. Sans has the hangover of the century coming on and he's not about to miss a moment of this groundbreaking personal event.

Ow.

Comments

gardens

[inruins]

Toriel for her part makes a very dignified sound at being roused, a half awake snort. "Sans-?" They really needed to stop falling asleep in the gardens, it was getting a bit silly. When she realizes where they are the boss monster sits up a little, rubbing at her eyes with her free hand herself. Her other arm still lazily cast in Sans' direction. Her body is comfortable and would rather sleep, but they need to get up eventually.

"Sorry, did I squish you?" It was a legitimate concern to have.

[skelepun]

"Nah, nah, I'm good." Sans shrugs, a blue cast across his cheekbones as his magic works itself up into a warm fervor. The longer he thinks on their position, the more embarrassed he seems to get. Doesn't Toriel's son work around the gardens? Talk about something a kid might misconstrue.

"Can't believe we did this again... I mean, I've heard of flower beds, but this is ridiculous."

[inruins]

She has to smile in turn, her gaze turning to something fond at the flush of blue settling across his cheekbones. It only confirms something she's been feeling for awhile. The conformation to herself is... a little scary in part. Toriel has been debating about this for the past week, but now seems like a good time.

The boss monster laughs at that, gladly distracted from her thoughts. "We're a ridiculous kind of pair I suppose." She spares the gardens a glance, quietly relieved Asriel isn't around today as she continues. "Besides.. it feels more like home here. A bit of nature that feels more alive than a good portion of the white walls."

sorry for the delay, busy weekend!

[skelepun]

"Wish I could say the same." Sans shrugs, eye sockets scanning the lush foliage. It didn't feel like home to him, so much as a place he wishes was home. Home, to Sans, was cramped caverns and endless snow. He didn't mind it so much -- there was Grillby's, the inn, his house, the door...

But of course, that's the thing that feels most like home of everything -- Toriel. Her voice acts as an instant sedative to his nerves and fears. In retrospect, it's no real wonder why he gets all his best sleep with her around. Smile settling into something more genuine, Sans elbows her gently in the side before stretching. His bones crack impressively as he flexes them over his head.

"But, y'know, it's pretty great. I'm not complaining."

psh u all good

[inruins]

"I still owe you, quite a few descriptions of where we lived on the surface, don't I?" She muses lightly in turn, knowing this was something they generally danced around for each others comfort. She watches him gaze around, taking in the light of his eye sockets and the flush thoughtfully. The shift of his smile into something real makes her feel warmer.

She had only realized recently, very recently, but... the temptation to tell him was there. She laughs softly at the elbowing, poking him lightly back. Gladly teasing the skeleton back. "Maybe next time we'll plan a nap opposed to having it just happen suddenly."

Even if it didn't work out, she would be happy with this. She would always be happy with Sans.

these olds....

[skelepun]

"Heh, what, you don't like our surprise naps?" Sans' grin went wider, waking up more by the second. "I find them very a-resting."

Of course, he wasn't so awake that leaning on his very soft, very big, very warm best friend wasn't still an option. Yawning, he settled against her arm subconsciously and let his eye sockets droop.

"What sort of plan did you have in mind?"

[inruins]

The boss monster snorts at that, the pun making her smile back. "I should hope so given how often it happens." She gladly wraps an arm around the smaller monster, enjoying the contact.

"Nothing concrete. We deserve a soft surface to sleep on after all." The goat laughs a bit at her terrible wordplay before pressing on. "Maybe something besides planning to just sit together and drooping into a nap accidentally."

She hesitates, wary about breaking the easiness of the moment. "I did want to talk with you though, about something that has been on my mind. But... we fell asleep."

[skelepun]

"Really? Sorry, T. If I knew you had a bone to pick with me, I'd have held off on the nap." Sans straightens up a little, determined not to give in to the plush of Toriel's fur. That stuff was softer than a down comforter, and twice as cozy. A man with ten times his constitution would be hard pressed not to doze against her.

"What's up?"

[inruins]

"Ah, you never have to apologize for a nap. I enjoy them, even if they distract both of us." She answers lowly in turn, trying to find the right words. "Ah, I'm not sure where to start, really." Toriel settles on being forward opposed to shy about this. She was never one to shy away from these things.

"Are you a carbon sample?" She leaves the question hanging in the air, hoping he'll be curious enough to continue.

[skelepun]

The subject change is both unexpected and, well, expected. It's not the first time one of them has built up a joke with lofty gravitas. Sans is already chuckling, anticipating a good one. Probably something fossil related. He is a skeleton, after all.

"I dunno, why do you ask?"

[inruins]

"Because, I want to date you." She states very simply back, Toriel smiles softly at Sans. She's confident in what she wants, in what she means.

1/???

[skelepun]

At first, Sans laughs. It's instinctual -- Toriel tells a funny joke, Sans laughs, and around they go until they get sick of laughing. That last part usually never happens, which is just fine by Sans.

Besides, that's a pretty great set up. Skeletons, carbon dating, that works out to one hilarious zinger.

2/?

[skelepun]

And he's just gonna keep laughing, 'cuz man. The more he sits on it, the funnier it gets.

3/?

[skelepun]

Yep. Still suuuper funny.

He certainly isn't chuckling and avoiding eye contact for any reason other than good ol' mirth.

4/4

[skelepun]

Sans takes a breath, skull sunk low into his hoodie. He's not laughing anymore, though there's still a quiet chuckle in his voice when he finally does speak.

"I, uh... I dunno if that's a good idea, T."

these two are a mess, my god

[inruins]

Throughout the laughter, Toriel waits. She waits. She will admit only to herself some uncertainty, maybe hurt at the laughter.

"I see." She laces her fingers together, it is obvious she's disappointed, but she offers Sans a slight smile anyway. "I... well, if you are not interested, I understand. I do like you, romantically, but I would not trade our friendship either. If that makes sense?"

[skelepun]

"It's not--y'know, it's not that clear cut." Toriel is objectively a beautiful monster, heck -- she's a boss monster. Even more than that, she was smart, funny, tough as nails, funny, and could kick his ass if she really wanted to. Not to mention funny. Sans never was one to feel attraction one way or the other, but as far as companions went, he would be hard pressed to do better than her. When it comes to leagues, she's at least several thousand leagues outside his.

That's the kind of wordplay Toriel would love, and Sans wants to share it with her. Instead, he fiddles with his finger bones.

"We're always gonna be friends, Tori, you know that. And it's not you, it's me."

[inruins]

She isn't upset with Sans, or angry- he has a right to answer how he wishes. "I'm glad to hear that. I wouldn't want to scare you away with this." Apparently the both of them have drifting gazes in the moment.

"I just... well, I had to ask." She laughs, a bit awkwardly rubbing the back of her neck. I shouldn't have asked settles somewhere in the back of her mind. She brushes it aside to keep smiling as she looks back up at the skeleton. She can be disappointed in her own time.

Her gaze drops to her lap for a moment. "If you do not feel the same, it is perfectly alright. If it is not clear cut, it means- it's better to leave it this way..."

[skelepun]

"Yeah." Sans nods, fingers interlocking at the back of his neck. This awkwardness, it's unbearable. He's never felt this with Toriel, not even when they were nothing more than a few mysterious voices drifting through a door frame.

"And, y'know, I do love you, T. Always have, always will."

[inruins]

The awkwardness is uncomfortable, a little weird. She won't hide from that.

"I am... glad to hear that. I love you too, my friend." She hesitates before reaching out to touch his shoulder. The touch is as friendly as ever, fond. Meant as reassurance nothing has changed between them.

Her hand drops away after a moment, a light attempt at humor falling from her lips. Self deprecation is easy to spin out, easy to rely on to break the awkwardness. "Thank you for at least hearing this old woman out."

[skelepun]

"Heh, well thanks for not pulverizing this bag of bones for being a big coward." Sans grins, giving her a squeeze in return, trying a little too hard to strike back as if the question never left her lips in the first place.

"You wanna go get lunch or something? I donated some of the snails from that giant crate to the kitchen, maybe Loki's fried 'em up or something."

[inruins]

She blows out a low laugh at that, "Oh you're fine. Don't worry about it." She means it. Even if Sans is sliding into comfortable denial- she can at least move to that familiar beat. Denial is very... Sans. The fact he hasn't run off is better than she expected.

"If you would like to. Fried snails would be lovely."

[skelepun]

"Great."

There's a beat of silence that stretches out longer than it should, their usual amicable friendliness soured by Sans' fidgeting. Of all the times for any part of him to be overactive, it has to be his mind?

"Can I meet you there? I think there's a work thing I forgot to do."

[inruins]

For all her trying, all their trying to shift to before she asked- it doesn't seem to work. Toriel's hands tightened into loose fists against her knees. "...Certainly. I'll see you there in a bit then."

So much for her assumption he might not run away.