Frisk was in a state of panic until they received a reassuring text from Sans that their relationship was fine and that this hadn’t impacted their friendship. They weren’t completely sure that was true, but it was comforting anyway.

Over the last months, Sans had grown increasingly comfortable - as far as they could tell - with speaking bluntly to them, with asking them to do things, with asking them direct questions.

He was always nice about it, though. Unless he was in a hurry, he would double check that they actually wanted to do whatever it was.

There was a time they’d shown up early to a comedy show and everything was going wrong. As soon as Sans had seen them, he’d sighed with relief and started giving them orders on how to help get the sound equipment set up, and it had felt so good. It had been wonderful to see his reaction, his faith, that as soon as they showed up, he knew he had support and he didn’t even have to ask if they’d help. It had seemed like the question hadn’t even occurred to him - they were there, of course they would help, this is what they needed to do.

All of that meant, of course, that their trust in him had grown. It was far from absolute, but they really believed that if he said their friendship was fine, then it probably really was.

For the next week, they were anxious about what he'd say, what he'd do. Finally, finally, Sans texted that he was ready to discuss and they picked a time. Frisk informed Flowey of a possibility of mega time loops again, and then settled in as best as they could to wait the last stretch.

This time, Sans had said that he’d be home. It was sunset as they arrived - a few minutes early, as usual - and they went right in.

Sans was already comfortable and sitting on the couch, lazily gesturing them over.

“I’m so sorry,” Frisk said nervously, wringing their hands as they walked over to the couch. “I really got carried away last time, and it wasn’t until after that I realized, what I’d said and done, I…”

“stop,” he said.

So they did, a sense of relief filling them at the feeling he’d taken control of the situation.

“relax, frisk,” he continued. “you didn’t do anything wrong. we both got caught up in the moment and carried away. it’s fine. i’m glad you honestly answered my questions.”

He wanted them to relax. Whether or not he actually thought that way, he wanted them to believe they had nothing to feel bad about. And really, he probably was glad they’d answered his questions.

Their anxieties melted into comfort and contentment.

He gestured at the stuffed lazy chair beside the couch and they sat down. It left space between them, much more than sharing the couch would have, but not all that much space. They could hold hands without sitting up, and if they leaned forward, they could reach the rest of him. A barrier, but not true distance.

It was comfortable.

“there is something i need from you,” he said, which made them feel even more settled and secure. “i’ve, uh, done my best to make sure that i won’t be as easy to distract this time.”

He’d… tried to make sure he wouldn’t get distracted? What did he mean by that?

One interpretation came to mind. That last time, he’d been distracted due to lust and so he’d masturbated a bunch today to try to prevent that. He couldn’t mean that, could he?

They couldn’t think of anything else, but then… it might be because they suddenly couldn’t think of anything else.

“i didn’t do a great job of actually addressing my main concerns before. so, here’s what i need. today, this meeting, we’re not doing anything sexual, no matter what. even if i, uh, start to change my mind, i want you to remember that and make sure nothing happens. can you do that?”

Oh no. Sans, no…

Inside they were howling with laughter and writhing with sexual frustration at once. He wanted them to make sure the two of them didn’t do anything sexual today?

Even if he started to change his mind?

The fact that he thought it was a possibility that he might start to change his mind… it made their previous interpretation of his first statement seem more likely. Oh, this was going to be hard.

But if he wanted to be sure they stayed on track today, they would do their utmost.

“I admit that will be hard,” they said. “But I will. You don’t need to worry.”

“good,” he said. “because your, uh, hope for things to go that way was one of the more difficult problems last time.”

Oh yes, this was going to be difficult. Seeing how much they wanted him had caused him problems, had it? So they’d have to try to both be honest with him but not too obvious with their desire?

Their knees trembled with the desire to fall to them before him and openly show how much they “hoped for things to go that way,” but they squashed that hope hard. They pushed back against their own lust. Nothing would happen, because Sans didn’t want either of them to fall to the temptation. They could masturbate to this situation later, but for now they needed to focus.

The burning faded, mostly replaced by a wicked amusement, as they grinned at him.

“I’m glad to have the chance to protect you from yourself,” they said.

He snorted at that.

“i’ve thought about this situation a lot, this last week,” he said. “here’s the thing, frisk. this situation is messed up. it’s beyond messed up. it’s completely fucked up.”

They’d heard him curse before, but rarely - it shocked them, and that shock carried a wave of shame through them. This situation was messed up because of how messed up Frisk was.

“if i try to look at the situation from a perspective of what ‘should’ happen, i shouldn’t have anything to do with you,” he said, his voice heavy. “every interaction with you is taking advantage of a completely fucked up mind. having sex with you is even worse, and i’m sure there’s people who would think that it’s morally only a step removed from rape.”

No, no, no, no, no…

Frisk’s mind was a shattered scramble, this was… they didn’t want him to feel this way, to view things this way, this was wrong…

“but i don’t always do what i think morality says should be done,” he said, a hint of sorrow, or perhaps guilt, tinging his voice, as he looked down at his hands.

That pulled them back to the present. They knew that feeling, and rather than taking what he’d said a moment ago as the real way he thought of things, maybe it was just his guilt talking.

They knew that feeling, too.

“For what it’s worth, Sans, I really feel differently,” Frisk said softly.

His gaze returned to them.

“I am my own person, and I have my own wants,” they said, the desire for him to understand flooding their voice. “If a person loses their sight because of traumatic reasons, they should still be loved and accommodated, including if they desire things that relate to their blindness.

“Yes, I do recognize that my devotion to you is ‘messed up,’ but this is who I am now, and I am glad to be this way. I don’t want to be otherwise. Even if you think my devotion is due to mental injury… which it pretty obviously is… I think it still deserves respect. Not to be obeyed, not to force you to accept it, but… to respect that I have the right to be who I want to be. If I truly desire you, and my whole being is in agreement, then to say that having sex with me is tantamount to rape is to say I have no right to consent. I think I deserve better than that.”

He looked away again, silent. They would let him think.

“you honestly think that it’s more respectful to use you?” he asked after a minute.

“No,” they said, shaking their head. “That’s not it at all. I’m saying I think it’s more respectful to accept that I am glad to be someone for you to use. What you do with that situation is up to you, and it’s fine either way. But if you want to use me, and don’t, it’s because you believe that my existence is wrong. That’s the part that seems less respectful of my own capacity for choice.”

“but,” he said. “but you’re talking about me using you like a tool. and you only feel that way because you had a really fucked up experience that broke you completely. taking advantage of that is… well, taking advantage of you.”

They grinned.

If that was the only problem, that he was “taking advantage” of them, that hardly seemed like a problem at all.

“I’m kinda used to unfair advantages,” they said. “And besides - life isn’t fair. And if life is going to be unfair, then fuck it all, we should cheat. I want to give you advantages. I want to give you unfair advantages. If you ever have a desire to ‘take advantage’ of me, then by all means, do it. It feels good when you do. You’re talking about doing something that fights back against the unfairness of life in a way that helps you and makes me feel good. Why the hell not?”

He stared at them for a moment then sighed heavily.

“this is so completely messed up,” he said, a groan in his voice. “you know that, right?”

They shrugged.

“Does it matter?” they asked. “I’m an adult, I have the capacity to reason, I am who I am, and I’m happy with who I am.”

They winced slightly at the untruth. They weren’t hugely happy with a lot of details of who they were - that they were capable of such great evil, for example - but they were happy with who they were with Sans. It was the part of their existence they felt the most comfortable with. If only he’d accept them, it’d feel even more secure.

“Er… sort of, but I am in this particular sense, anyway,” they amended. “And you don’t have to do anything. You don’t have to ever tell me to do things. You could tell me to take a different approach to your questions, that I don’t always answer them, or that I’m allowed to be dishonest. I’m not insisting that you take me as a slave or anything. Just… respecting the fact that I have chosen - though that doesn’t quite feel like the right word - to be always and forever available to you.”

It really wasn’t the right word. They didn’t feel like this had been a choice, exactly. From the moment they’d held the knife, staring down at him, the transformation their soul underwent…

This was simply who they were.

He took his time thinking again and they waited, watching him.

“i’ll need to chew on that at some point,” he said eventually. “but in the end, it just makes me feel better about the conclusion i already came to. as i’d started to say, i don’t always do what it seems like morality would say i should. i’d already decided that, even if this situation is wrong, even if i am just taking advantage of you, i’m willing to do it anyway.”

He was accepting them? He was willing to have them be his, in some fashion? The fact that he thought it was wrong wasn’t great, but this was his choice.

And… did that mean… that he would… that together, they’d…

Heat rushed through them at the thought, and they aggressively tried to shove it away, but the knowledge burned within their mind and heart. And maybe other places.

“mostly because of things you already mentioned,” he continued. “the fact that you want me to, that you’re happier when i do, counts for a lot. if no one is getting hurt, then it doesn’t seem like it’s as bad as it sounds.”

He slowly took a breath as they beamed at him.

“sex is a little more sticky,” he said.

That was so bad and they couldn’t help but giggle. He gave them a genuinely amused grin and then continued.

“the fact is, between the two of us, one hundred percent of the sanity is in here,” he said, tapping at his skull.

Couldn’t disagree with that. They nodded in full acceptance.

“that means if i care about sanity at all, i need to be the one who makes certain decisions,” he said, and they nodded again. “normally, i’d have to trust my partner for something like this, but frankly, i don’t. not for this sort of thing - you’re willing to do way too much.”

That wasn’t ideal, but also, it’s not like they could argue about it. If he meant that he’d normally rely on a partner to set sane boundaries, that was something they couldn’t be relied on for.

“so i need certain information in order to decide if we’re going to go through with this, and it’s going to be really uncomfortable for you,” he finished.

Oh. Oh yes. “In order to decide if we’d go through with this” meant that he was seriously considering going through with this.

Which meant, if he was satisfied with their answers, then he would… he would…

Oh, that fire in their veins was going to be a problem. It was getting harder and harder to smother, but they tried.

Not today. He wouldn’t take them today. But maybe soon… and for it, they just had to answer some uncomfortable questions?

“Whatever you want to know,” they said, and meant it absolutely.

“we’re gonna start this with an order,” he said. “you need to make sure your answers are designed to convey to me what you actually feel, deep down, and not what you think i want to hear. not what you think aligns with your vision of how your devotion works. not with any fanciful thoughts of how you want things to be. if there’s a fight in you between two answers, you give me both. nothing fancy, nothing flowery, just the straight facts. do you understand?”

“I do,” they said solemnly. “You’re right. That will be uncomfortable.”

“i’ve barely started, kid,” he said and then scratched at his head, seeming uncomfortable.

“asking you what you actually feel for me would be a bad question, because it’d probably take days,” he said and they laughed. This was true. “so i’m taking a different approach. i don’t know what’s really going on in your head, and have a number of different hypotheses. i’m going to tell you one of them, and you’re going to tell me exactly how correct or incorrect it is.”

This seemed downright easy. They nodded, eager.

“before your genocide run, you were heading for romance with the other sans,” he said. “i don’t mean in the sense that he felt that way - i’m just talking about your half here. resetting destroyed that, and in your head, destroyed all possibility of it. you’ve mostly accepted that, but you’re straining to regain any hint of what could have been, what you wanted.

“so what you really want, deep down, is a romance of equals between us; a shared, mutual, romantic love. and all of the rest of this is born from your belief that you destroyed it, that what you want is actually impossible, and you’re trying to grab on to anything you can that makes you feel like it maybe wasn’t as completely destroyed as you’d first thought.

“so, first question - does this hypothesis make sense?”

Maybe not so easy. This hypothesis had a number of points that hit rather… heavily. Hard. Hearing him say these things… some parts of their heart hurt, and even caught them by surprise by the pain of it. And the type of pain. This wasn’t how they would have expected to feel, on having this brought to light this way.

“Yes, it does,” they said seriously.

“then tell me exactly to what extent it is true,” he said.

“I need a moment to think,” they said and he nodded.

That was an understatement. They’d had flashes of thoughts of things with Sans before, of course, but they’d all been scattered and ephemeral. They’d never latched on to one particular fantasy, because the biggest fantasy was uncovering the depths of his soul, the discovery of his truest nature, the connection to his deepest truths.

That. That was what they wanted.

Glimpses of him using them in various ways, or fucking them, or pulling them into a hug because he wanted comfort, instead of just for their sake, or telling them how much he appreciated them… they were all scattered. Nothing as coherent as dreaming about being in a romance with him. Though they hadn’t had fantasies of marriage, or candlelit dinners, or anything like that. Maybe because those things were just preludes to the real fun, but either way, they just hadn’t.

They’d tried to tell him that last week, too. But he’d obviously not been convinced. Or possibly hadn’t understood, that they’d said it wrong.

There were true things in the hypothesis, and yet, in looking at them… they felt wrong. Even the things that were true.

Oh, this was going to be a mess to sort through.

They focused, chasing the sensations, organizing them, facing them as directly as they could. Then when they felt they understood what was going on, they took some time to try to organize it, to turn the mess coherent.

They hated that they were making him wait, but he was patient, and he wanted their best answer, not an off the cuff one.

“The Frisk that existed before the genocide route is dead,” they said at last. “They got ill from the fear of Chara and the implications of the loop. They started to die at the realization of what they destroyed, and as they started to kill. And the moment they surrendered to Chara, after your gambit of attempting mercy? That was the moment they died. The moment I existed was the moment I fought back against Chara, fought to apologize to your passed out form, fought to reset. My birth was complete, when this timeline was born. My soul began to heal into its new shape when I spoke to you at the cliff, that first day.”

He continued to look at them impassively. They wished they could read his face half as well as he could read theirs.

“I say this because, I look at that Frisk, and frankly, they’re not me,” they said. “Their desires aren’t my desires. Their thoughts seem almost alien to me, in many cases. They seem almost as much not-me as Chara does.

“I think that hypothesis is right, in some ways. I think they wanted to walk a path of romance with you. That ‘me’ didn’t think of it in those terms, but it does look like that’s where their heart was leading them. But that desire isn’t my desire. It looks alien to me now. The thought of a relationship like that? It looks… weird and difficult.

“If you said you wanted us to be deeply intimate friends, sharing everything from jokes, to secrets, to sex, where you could just trust in my loyalty and companionship? That seems easy and natural. That seems like it fits the shape of my soul. That image seems like a breath of relief, to stop trying to twist myself in unnatural directions.

“If you confessed your love for me in a romantic way, and wanted a relationship of equals, like other people have relationships… that would be very difficult. I would, of course; I would try with everything I had to fit that shape. But who and what I am, now, is a thing that is utterly subservient to you. That’s not naturally compatible with a romance of equals.

“It doesn’t fit the shape of my soul, and while it’s… it is a little sad to realize that I don’t think I am capable of ever having that, with anyone… it’s not all that sad. It’s like the wistfulness when I appreciate someone’s art skills and think it’d be nice if I could do that, too. It’s a little sad I’m not an amazing artist, but well, I’m just not, and that’s okay.”

They frowned, thinking over what they’d said.

“I think I answered your question right,” they said. “Did I?”

“so you really, deep down, aren’t pining for me to declare my love for you and to have that whole fairy-tale happy ending?” he asked.

Did he really think that, or was he just trying to make absolutely sure?

Either way, the question hurt more than they’d have thought. How distant, how alien the question was…

They shook their head.

“It’s kind of sad to admit, now that I think about it,” they said. “I want you to love me, but… when I think about those stories of love, when I think about Alphys and Undyne, when I see these things… they aren’t the shape of my soul. I don’t see anything anywhere that matches me. All I have to go on is my own thoughts and feelings.”

They’d never seen anything that felt like a match for who they currently were, in so many ways. In fiction and reality both, they were intensely isolated. Not that they spent much time looking at fictional things, but still.

Flowey, the only one who was forever real, and who had lost so much of himself.

Sans, who they tried to bring with them, but it only worked in the context of words. And so, there was that eternal awareness that, with just a surge of will, anything he’d said or done, or they said or did, could just… not be. That whatever version of Sans they were talking to could be the fake one, all depending on their choices.

And no one else did they even try to take with them. Echoes and ghosts, everywhere. Mostly real, because they avoided resetting, but always the possibility.

And of course, the way they'd changed in direct relation to Sans. To feel like their soul was wrapped around him in particular, such that he was their purpose.

There was nothing that was like the dynamic between Sans and them. This was a truly new path and they had no guidance whatsoever.

They pressed on.

“And in those fondest imaginings, you do declare your love for me, but not… not like that,” they admitted, feeling another surge of distant aching. “Not that shape of love, not that style. You tell me that your own heart has settled into a position of trust in me, that your faith in me - in my loyalty, in my love, in my commitment - is absolute. That you know, deep down, that I am yours, and I am something that you treasure above almost anything else. That you are glad that I exist, that I’m in your life, and glad that I am yours. That you want me by your side for life, to always have that sense of security and certainty that, even if all else in the world is crazy and unknown, the fact that I am yours and I love you is a bedrock you can count on. That, even if it’s weird and not like what other people think is okay, that I matter, deeply and personally, to you. That is the kind of declaration of love I want most desperately from you.”

Oh, this hurt, to tell him this openly. Their heart trembled, now that it was explicitly in the air between them. Now that he knew the deepest key to their soul, their fondest desire.

And yet, they couldn’t even manage to be afraid. Because they were his, and if his desire was for them to be put aside, then… that was their purpose.

They gazed at him, waiting.

He leaned back in his seat, his gaze distant as he thought. He stayed that way for long moments before his gaze turned to them again.

How deep and dark his eyes were, the blackness within the sockets lit only by a faint spark. Not as dark as when he chose to embrace his darkness, of course, but still, it wasn’t brightness and cheer that he was thinking about.

“okay,” he said at last. “let’s talk about a different side of things. what if i fell into a normal romantic relationship with someone else? how do you think you’d really feel? not what you want to feel, how you’d actually react.”

“I’d be disappointed,” they said immediately, and then paused. “But… well, maybe that’s not true, actually. If they were okay with me being sexually used by you, I’d love that. You could have a great relationship with them, and I could help satisfy you when they weren’t around, or maybe participate and help out, all three of us. You could also give me to them for their use, too. That whole idea seems like it’d be awesome, actually.”

The more they thought about this, the more they liked it. It seemed both fun and hot as hell. Would it be Toriel? That would be awkward and maybe not so great. But if it wasn’t Toriel, pretty much literally anyone else, then they would be all over this plan. And things had seemed to just not go anywhere between Sans and Toriel anyway.

He sighed heavily at that.

“If they weren’t okay with that, or if you decided you didn’t want to do anything sexual with me in general, I’d be pretty much equally disappointed, I think,” they said. “I do want to be with you sexually. A… hell of a lot, and I admit I’d really struggle with my desires if you were opposed to that. And I’d want to talk to you and figure out what you thought was best to do about that, uh, need. I don’t think I can do a normal romance with anyone ever, and frankly, why would anyone else want me when I’m devoted to you? So I’d probably be stuck with casual options. But maybe I could find some sort of friends with benefits situation with someone that everyone could be happy with. Or you could give me to some people on occasion - that sounds hot.”

“you actually don’t think you’d be jealous?” he pressed.

They shook their head.

How could they be jealous of something they were incapable of even properly wanting?

“No,” they said with a bit of a sad smile. “Now that I’ve really tried to think about what a proper romance with you would look like… again, I’d be willing, even eager, to try, but I feel like… who I am would have to change, in order for it to work at all. And… to be entirely honest, though it pains me to say it…”

They realized something as they spoke - figured out how to say it, at any rate. And they didn’t want to say it, they couldn’t…

But he’d made it very clear what his expectations for this conversation were.

They really didn’t want to and they felt the pain of it appear on their face.

“I wouldn’t say this part, if it weren’t for your orders earlier,” they said with a sigh. “But while a part of me likes the idea of a romance between us, I honestly suspect that, deep down, I don’t have that capability anymore. That I could try - that I would try, with everything I have - but that, in the end, I would fail. And so if you do desire a… let’s call it standard romance, a love between equals, without this messed up power dynamic, then you’d…”

God, they had to say this, didn’t they. They didn’t want it to be true, they wanted to be able to give him anything he wanted, any type of connection he wanted, but… but…

They forced themself to speak.

“You’d… you’d probably have to find it somewhere else, in the end,” they said roughly.

Admitting this failure hurt terribly. And what if they were just thinking about it wrong? People could change. Maybe they could change, too.

“But I could be wrong,” they whispered. “If that’s what you wanted, I would try, I would, and it might work.”

“if i’m understanding you, the reason you’re upset isn’t because you’re sad that we can’t have a romantic relationship. it’s because you’re upset at the idea of me wanting something from you and you not being able to provide,” he said.

He understood.

“Yes, exactly,” they said, a surge of relief flooding them.

He sighed again and gave them a sidelong look.

“you realize if i ever do end up in a romantic relationship with anyone, they’re probably going to hate the idea of you even existing,” Sans pointed out.

Frisk laughed at that, and yet it hurt.

Maybe he hadn’t fully understood. They kept telling him, but, maybe he didn’t even want to believe them.

“I’ve said it so many times, but I think on some level you don’t want to believe me,” they said with a sad smile. “I am yours, Sans. Yours to use, to set aside, as you will. If you want me to stay away from you for the rest of your life, then I will. I would want to make sure you have some way to contact me, in case you change your mind, but other than that, I would. If we decide that it’s safe for me to let go and let myself die for real, and you want me dead, then I want to die. If you decide that I shouldn’t exist, then I won’t.”

“so you’re saying i’m stuck dealing with the responsibility for your life,” Sans said, frustration clear in his voice.

“Of course not,” Frisk said. “Only deal with the issue of my life if ever you feel like it. I can manage it on my own. My life or death are simply available to you, if you ever do feel like doing anything with them.”

Sans leaned back and just groaned, a sound of sheer, overwhelming exasperation.

They felt bad about that, but he’d wanted the truth, and they were doing their best.

“if you’re this obsessed with me, how would you even function if i weren’t around?” he asked, still looking up at the ceiling, still sounding exasperated.

“I don’t know,” Frisk said, looking down. “I would try very hard to avoid resets, to let time pass us all by. Otherwise, only Flowey would feel fully real, and that dynamic might be dangerous. Or, actually… I’d dedicate myself to trying to solve Flowey’s soul problem, and then if it worked, I think Asriel would be a great influence on me.”

That honestly seemed like a solid plan. They’d rather be with Sans in some capacity, any capacity, but if they couldn’t… their biggest regret over the awfulness of life, outside of their own actions, was what Flowey had lost. It seemed good, and healing, to help him with that.

They wanted to deal with Chara eventually, too, but now that they had a better sense of Chara, it really didn't seem urgent. That whole situation was scary, but it wasn't getting worse.

“Yes, I think that works,” they said.

He glanced at them for a moment, then resumed looking at the ceiling, thinking again.

They waited patiently. They couldn’t put their finger on it, but it almost felt like something in the air between them was changing over the next minutes. No particular shifting of his hands, or sound of his breath gave it away, and yet there was a heaviness that hadn’t been there before.

They awaited his judgment in silence.

“i’ve decided,” he said, after several minutes. “we’ll try it once. that’s all i’m agreeing to right now. we’ll have sex once and we’ll see if it looks like it’s having any effect.”

Oh. This was going to be a problem. The fire they’d suppressed came roaring back at the promise of actually… of actually…

Oh, they couldn’t breathe. They needed to not encourage anything today, but they could… they could try to focus on details, on practicalities, on…

Images flashed through their mind and they focused. Not yet, not yet, they could keep things focused.

“So then,” Frisk said, desperately trying to keep on track, “what we’ll need to do is save right as we’re about to start, right? To see if it’s working?”

“that makes sense,” he said, an odd note in his voice.

Oh, that thought was hard to bear. How long would they loop, feeling him inside of them?

They couldn’t think about that right now. They couldn’t. He’d given an order to keep things from going that way today, and that… oh, that thought, oh…

“When?” they asked, and he looked at them consideringly.

“tomorrow, maybe?” he asked.

So soon, so distant. How could they survive till then? Would they explode into a fiery pillar of sheer desire? So soon, just tomorrow, if they could just sleep then it would be tomorrow, and it would be the day that he…

Oh, this was difficult.

“How do you want me to be?” they asked. “Should I… I don’t know, dress sexy? Act in a certain way? I… I don’t know what you want, what you like.”

“this isn’t a date,” he said. “it’s not a romance. it’s nothing resembling that. i am going to have sex with you as a means to an end. i want you to just be you.”

A dash of cold water on their soul.

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

A terrible hypothesis rose up in their mind.

He found it hot when they’d been obviously lusting after him, but he’d have felt that way about anyone lusting after him. He wasn’t actually interested in them at all, and possibly even found them a little sexually repulsive. Not completely, of course, else he wouldn’t have pursued things last time. But maybe he was just making himself do this because of the hope of remembering the resets.

That he’d be making himself have sex with them, when he didn’t want to.

They'd thought he lusted for them, but they weren't thinking clearly, what if they were wrong, what if they'd misinterpreted something he'd said, what if…

They looked away.

They had to know… they had to ask… but what if he didn’t answer…?

“Sans?” they asked timidly. “Can I ask something?”

“sure,” he said.

“Do you… want to have sex with me?” they asked, still looking away. “Or… or is it something that you’re just making yourself do because it seems like it might work?”

“there isn’t a simple answer,” he said. “last week… i admit that i, uh, felt things. i expect i’ll enjoy myself. but if it weren’t for the practical side of things, there’s no way. there might have been a real chance of romance between you and that first sans - i have no issues with your body or personality or anything like that. the entire problem is how messed up this whole situation is. i feel like i’ve agreed to do something wrong, because i selfishly want to remember, and i just have to accept that.”

“So… the issue is just ethical?” they pressed. “If it weren’t for your ethics, you would… want this?”

That was a good sign. A really good sign. The water he’d thrown in their face boiled away.

He let out a low breath, halfway to a sigh.

“it’s a little hard to argue with what you’re offering,” Sans admitted, and their heart - and other places - surged with triumph. “i’m not the best person, frisk. i’d say i try to be, but that’s not true, either. i just…”

He paused for a moment.

“if i say i just try hard enough to make sure i’m not a monster, would that make sense?” he asked.

Lust fell to the side - not gone, but ignored - as their heart leapt and reached out to him for something that was far, far more important to Frisk.

He didn’t talk about this sort of thing. About himself. Oh, sure, he would when under pressure, like when they’d been about to reach Asgore for the first time, or when he was about to die last month. Even then, he deflected and danced, usually.

They wanted to reach out to him so badly, but they didn’t want to push, never wanted to push. Only available, never demanding.

They reached a hand forward, towards his.

But they could ask.

“May I?” they asked.

He sighed and nodded.

They took his hand into theirs and squeezed it.

They’d had almost no direct physical contact with him, ever. He’d taken their hand at the restaurant so long ago, when they’d been particularly vulnerable and he’d wanted to comfort them. They’d taken his hand later in that conversation, too.

He’d put a hand on their shoulder, or they’d shared in hugs, or things like that from time to time, but that was always through clothing. But direct contact between his bones and their skin? It had only ever been that first day. Mostly, they remembered thinking that he’d felt just how he looked - like a skeleton.

“It does make sense,” they said softly. “I don’t think you’re that kind of monster, Sans.”

They kept his hand in theirs. Maybe it would still be comforting. He could always pull away if he wanted. They really wanted to explore his hand.

“aren’t i, though?” he asked, leaning back into the couch cushion, staring at the ceiling.

They fell to the temptation a little. They held his left hand with their right. Their left hand began to gently move over his hand, feeling the texture of his bones.

It was interesting. There wasn’t cartilage holding the bones together, or tendons, or anything like that. It was magic. If they focused, they could feel a faint tingling sensation at the joints, and a sort of… repulsion effect, perhaps. Like there was something invisible, soft, and squishy where the bones met each other.

Part of their mind explored his hand while the rest listened.

“if it weren’t for a promise, i’d have killed an innocent person, knowingly, for personal gain. and i would have, frisk. unlike you, it wouldn’t have been with the intention of it just being temporary.”

Their heart ached, as they gently touched him. They understood. They had no idea what to say, but he already knew. There was no way he wouldn’t know that they understood.

His eyes closed.

“i’ve… done other things, too, a long time ago. you aren’t the first person i’ve ever fought,” he said in a low tone. “...that i’ve ever killed.”

Ah, their heart… how could they tell him how much they felt for him? How much they appreciated his trust, that he would share this with them?

They had no idea, but he had given them his hand, and maybe they could use that?

They got up from their chair, carefully, to avoid disturbing him, to avoid moving their clasped hands. They knelt beside him, by the couch, and pressed his hand to their cheek, holding it against their face. Holding him as close as they dared.

They didn’t know how to say it, but maybe he could feel it. That their reaction to this was to press closer. Not sexually, not possessively, but just… closer.

There was silence for a time. Sans breathed, Frisk breathed, and they held him close. The only part that they had been given leave to touch. Words fluttered in their mind and heart, but they didn’t know if they should say them. Actions occurred to them to take, but they didn’t know if it would be unwelcome.

Eventually, they decided they needed to try. Just in case he didn’t know.

“I don’t know if I should say anything,” Frisk murmured. “But… I understand guilt. I understand wondering about whether you’re that kind of monster. And I know you care, Sans. You care about doing the right thing.”

“and yet i’m…” he said with a sigh. “i care about you, frisk. you’re my friend. you’re important to me. and in the end, i’m…”

Their heart surged with a joy so acute it hurt, and it hurt wonderfully. They squeezed his hand more firmly to their cheek, thanking him for saying these things, feeling these things, but not speaking. They wouldn’t interrupt this.

“it’s wrong, what i’m doing,” he said. “i should be trying to help you heal and become your own person. instead… i’m going to take advantage of your broken mind in so many ways, all for personal benefit. i’m going to have sex with you because i want to remember the resets and have the benefit of your power. and because… because it’s going to feel good and it’s been a long time since i’ve felt that.”

Their lust hadn’t been completely forgotten, but with this…

Oh, this was going to be difficult.

He did want them. Desire was one of the reasons he was going to do this. He thought it was wrong, which wasn’t ideal, but… but he wanted them, and oh, their body sang.

But not tonight. He’d ordered them to make sure, and so they had to hold back. They wondered if he could feel them trembling. They wondered, with as perceptive as he was, if he knew about the fire that was consuming them.

The fire grew hotter as they wondered if knowing that would make his own lust surge.

Oh, this was not easy…

“i know you view it differently,” he said, his eyes still closed. “i know you don’t think this is wrong. i know you think that i’m disrespecting you, the way i’m seeing the situation with you. maybe i am. no. i definitely am. i don’t see the way you are as being a… i dunno. valid way to be. that it’s just wrong for you to be this way. that going along with it is taking advantage, it’s morally wrong, it’s… abusive, maybe. it’s bad enough when i’m lazy and just messing around with you, but with sex, i… this is wrong.”

He put his other arm over his face, covering his eyes.

They didn’t know what to say. They’d already said how they felt, and it sounded like he understood. What could they say that they hadn’t already said?

The guilt in his voice as he spoke of fulfilling their desires tore at them. How could they fix this? How could they make him let go of his worries?

“and i can’t stop thinking about how good it’s going to feel,” he admitted hoarsely.

Lava flooded their veins, their breath wrenched from them. They resisted, they tried, they couldn’t encourage this, oh, but a desperate sound escaped their throat.

Silence, and stillness, and a desperate war.

There was one way that they could very easily, naturally, and effortlessly think of that could distract him from his ethical quandries.

But they weren’t allowed to do that.

And really, any other thoughts at all were proving… inaccessible. There was only fire, and devotion, and a desire for him to feel as good as they could, in every way they could.

And a number of incredibly selfish desires, but Frisk was good, they wouldn’t do that.

Not yet.

But they sure as hell couldn’t say anything, not when their lungs were full of fire.

But eventually, as the silence stretched, they had to anyway. They had to push back their lust and try to fix this.

“I… I know you see it that way,” Frisk said, trying and failing to keep their voice steady. “But… this is a precious memory you’re giving me. I hate that you feel bad about it, and maybe it’s horribly selfish of me, but I am… I am so grateful to have this. I wish… I wish you could be happier about this. I wish you could just let go of all your worries, even just for the one time. Just for those minutes or hours, just let it go, and let yourself enjoy it. Enjoy me.”

“i’ll try,” he said.

They hoped he meant it.

“I… may not be the most experienced with this sort of thing, but I’m going to try to make it feel as good as I can,” Frisk murmured, fire leaking into their voice. “Try to… distract you from pesky thoughts.”

He moved his other arm away from his eyes and looked at them. Searching. They didn’t know what he saw, but they wanted him to see everything.

No, no, they shouldn’t want that, it would distract him, he’d said he didn’t want…

But they couldn’t help but be naked before his gaze, pierced by the faint lights within the consuming void.

Slowly, he moved the hand they held, and they let him. But he didn’t pull away. They trembled harder as he began to touch them. Gently, softly, slowly, he traced over their cheek and jaw, his hand moving down to their chin. He gripped their chin a little more firmly and traced his thumb over their lips, still silently appraising.

Oh, they were going to die. They would just spontaneously combust, they couldn’t… his touch on their lips did not feel platonic in the least and a little gasp escaped them despite their flagging attempts at restraint.

And as their mouth opened, his thumb slid in.

Oh, oh, this wasn’t fair. Their mouth closed over his thumb, reflexively taking him in, their whole body shivering with need.

And they could have never imagined that he’d feel like this.

He tasted like dust and magic. A different fire lashed at them at the realization that somehow he tasted like the air had after they’d killed one of the monsters. And they had no idea how “magic” was even supposed to be a taste, but that’s what their brain insisted on. No other flavors, no saltiness or anything, but just pure death and magic.

And for some reason, he didn’t feel the same to their tongue as he had to their finger. There was a pulsing pressure, not too unlike the throbbing of blood, that emerged from his bones. With each pulse’s height, it was almost like it was an actual finger, if a bit thin, with all of the hard edges smoothed out by the soft presence of his magic. Between each pulse, it felt more like a bone, but still they could feel, could taste, the bindings of magic that held him together.

The bone of his form was just the only part they could normally see.

And the magic, as they pressed their tongue to him, tingled.

They couldn’t help but wonder what that would feel like inside them elsewhere, and the madness within them burned yet higher.

They wanted to… they wanted…

Oh, but was this even allowed? Did this count as sexual? It was, wasn’t it? Or was it?

With a surge of will, they managed to pull back slightly, his thumb wetly resting against their lip.

“Y-you said n-not to let anything sexual happen between us today,” they said, their voice scorched from the heat. “I-I don’t know if t-this counts.”

“let’s say it doesn’t,” he said, the darkness in his gaze consuming them.

Close enough.

A moan escaped entirely unchained as they leaned forward to take his thumb into their mouth again. They would explore the taste and texture of him thoroughly.

Oh, this was probably wrong, probably too far, but they’d been given an out. An outlet for this fire as they sucked and licked. How could they resist…

The magic seemed to be growing and thickening, oddly. There was more… presence, more pressure, less roughness as time went on. The pulses were getting stronger, too - maybe it was just that they were receding less. His digit thickened in their mouth and they focused on the faintly tingling sensation of his magic.

His breath started to catch and they heard a tremble in the sound, as he slowly and carefully exhaled.

Oh, this wasn’t fair. He wanted them. Right now, Sans wanted them. He was burning, too. The look on his face remained impassive as they squirmed, making love to his thumb, but they knew.

Something caught their attention. His jacket had shifted slightly open. And, just as Alphys had indicated would be the case, something was pressing up the fabric of his shorts.

That was it, they’d died. Frisk no longer existed. Only fire and lust remained.

But… but no, he’d said that they weren’t to do anything sexual, they had to stay focused.

Restraining the whimpers and moans was no longer something they were strong enough to do, however. They writhed, a worm on a hook, bound by their mouth and unable to do anything to escape the delicious torment.

After an intense, agonizing stretch of time, he suddenly moved. His hand gripped their mouth, their jaw, with real strength and he pulled them forward. He didn’t pull hard, but they had no choice but to obey as he pulled them into position beside him on the couch.

If he had any body heat at all, they’d be close enough to feel it. Somehow they felt scorched by his proximity anyway.

His hand relaxed and freed them to resume helplessly loving at the pulsing pseudo-flesh of the magic within their mouth.

This was escalating, wasn’t it? Oh, they needed to stop this, didn’t they? But how? How could they…

But they had to try, they had to.

“Sans, I…” they managed from around his thumb.

“your mouth feels good,” Sans said.

Oh… oh this was hopeless, they could do nothing to stop this…

Another whimper escaped them as the memory of his order pierced them again. No, no, they had to be strong enough.

“i find myself wondering things that i haven’t let myself think about before,” he continued in a tone that was lower and huskier than they’d ever heard, but full of artful casualness. “do you want to know?”

Knowledge was okay, right? Knowledge was safe. Knowledge wasn’t something that was sexual. They could agree to this.

“Yes,” they whispered before assaulting his thumb again.

He pulled away his thumb and their breath caught, wondering what he would do. He shoved two fingers into their mouth in its place - his index and middle fingers. Two digits to pleasure, now, and their tongue worked feverishly as another full moan escaped with no hint of restraint. The magic of his presence was thick enough now that there weren’t any really rough edges, just parts that were harder than others.

“i’ve asked questions from time to time about your devotion,” he said. “but i’ve never brought up a situation that pits what you really want against an order.”

They had a feeling that this was going to be difficult, but thoughts were kind of impossible, so they would just have to suffer helplessly and find out what he had in mind.

His other hand reached up and moved through their hair, sending pleasant shivers down their spine. He’d never just… touched them like this and it felt good in an entirely different way.

Oh… they just wanted to surrender. To give in to this, to let him have his way with them, to just do anything and everything, helpless to resist his pleasure, their pleasure, lost to this burning madness…

But somehow, they had to hold on.

“what would you do if i pulled down my shorts, grabbed you by the hair, and…”

He trailed off leadingly as his hand suddenly clenched a fistful of their hair, holding them in place, and they gasped in shock. His grip was slightly painful, and that clearly meant they were utterly bound and could do nothing but helplessly go along with this.

Their brain completely short circuited. Another moan slipped out and they writhed as they were completely forced to lick and suck at his fingers, with no possible escape imaginable.

But he’d asked a question, and so they had to answer, right?

“I-I…” they tried, but words were really hard for many reasons.

His fingers pressed into their tongue, and oh, they had no choice at all, they couldn’t possibly speak, more sounds of lust escaping the thing that Sans possessed.

“because i think you’d want me to do that,” he said.

This was absolutely true and they “mm-hmm’d” in response.

“i want to do that,” he said.

How? How could these fires that had raged, had consumed them with madness, how did they keep rising higher and hotter? Only a faint slip of sanity remained, that Sans had ordered them not to let the two of them do anything sexual… and they’d kind of screwed that up a little, but they at least had some small measure of plausible deniability.

All else but that single note of sanity burned with need and a desperate sound filled the air.

“your mouth feels good… and it’d feel good elsewhere, too,” he said, his tone achingly rough with his own need. “so, i’m curious, frisk. i want you to use your mouth on me. what are you going to do?”

He let go and pulled both hands away, leaning back again.

This wasn’t fair. This was cruel. Their eyes fell to the bulge in his shorts and they writhed, but that single thread of sanity was also the core of who they were, and as much as they wanted to do as he desired, they just… couldn’t.

“T-th-that isn’t what you really want,” they managed, their gaze torn back and forth between his face and his bulge. “I’d said I’d protect you from yourself, and I didn’t think it’d… but… I can’t. Not… not today.”

“Mmm,” he said. “that’s good.”

“It is?” they asked, deeply confused in the haze of torn desire and devotion.

“i like knowing that i can trust you to obey me,” he said, and another sound escaped them, a touch of deep satisfaction and joy that they hadn’t expected added to the inferno of their mind. “i shouldn’t like that, but i do.”

A finger touched under their chin, pointing their head upwards and they didn’t resist. It felt more like a bone again, rather than the pseudo-flesh of semi-tangible magic as it roughly and slowly scraped down their neck. They were sure they’d have a faint red line left in its passage.

“i wonder,” he said, as he started to pull down their collar. “i wonder where you’d draw the line.”

He tugged sharply at their collar, as though about to rip off their clothes and they gasped, staring at him with the insane fires of lust, with confusion, with desperation, with really quite a huge host of complicated feelings.

He let go with a faint chuckle, leaning back again.

“where could i touch you before you stopped me?” he said, his voice an interesting blend of curiosity and lust. “if i took your hand, where could i put it on me, before you pulled away?”

He had asked, they had to answer. They had to. Even if there wasn’t anything in their skull, they had to somehow find words.

“I… I…”

This wasn’t working.

“no, don’t answer,” he said. “it’s fun to imagine, though, isn’t it?”

God yes. The images were scorching them, rending them, ripping them to little shreds.

“Yes,” they whispered.

But they had to resist. They had to.

“the things i might ask you to do,” he murmured. “the things you might beg me to do... i wonder how easy it would be to make you beg.”

Probably really damned easily.

They didn’t know how long this battle could continue. Would they fail, would they break the order he’d given? Would they lose their mind to lust to such an extent that they might find themselves doing things, allowing things to be done, that were just too much?

Some things were obvious. If he bent them over and started to… god, just thinking of it made their mind scream… that was obviously too far. They’d have to stop that. Somehow. They couldn’t even realistically pretend to be overpowered, they’d defeated him once.

They had to do something.

“Sans…” they said, their voice rough. “I… we… this is getting carried away, isn’t it…?”

“heh heh heh… yeah, we are,” he said. “i don’t think you actually mind, though.”

“Not at all,” they admitted. “But I don’t know where to draw the line.”

He sighed.

“probably should have drawn it a while ago,” he said. “but that’s on me. there’s things i want to ask, want to do, but i’m pretty sure i’m already going to be annoyed at myself in the morning.”

A touch of sanity grew in the flames of their mind. He would regret what they’d already done? Then that made it clear. Their eyes sharpened and their voice grew steady.

“Then we should stop,” Frisk said.

He slowly reached out a hand to their face and they held statue still. Uh. Reaching for them wasn’t explicitly sexual. That was probably not one of the problem activities. Saying they needed to stop going too far didn’t mean they had to stop all interactions. They’d be careful, they would.

His hand gently cupped their cheek and their resistance broke as they leaned into it. They raised a hand to his, pressing his hand against their cheek. This was just the loving connection they’d had, before things got… fiery.

Wait, loving?

Well. It was on Frisk’s side, at least.

They needed to try to obey that order, and Sans was clearly not putting that much effort into resisting.

“Tomorrow, Sans,” they whispered. “I’ll somehow survive till tomorrow.”

“i want something from you,” he said.

They loved it when he said that. Anything he wanted.

“Yes,” they said, agreeing without question.

As long as it didn’t contravene their order.

“i like you like this,” he said. “desperate and needy. make sure you’re particularly riled up tomorrow.”

They whimpered again. Images burned in their mind.

“Sans, I… I really want to… I will…” they choked out.

“i look forward to seeing… how did you put it? for you to finish with me inside of you?” he said.

Their little fantasy that he’d dragged out of them last week. Their body clenched so hard at his words they swore they’d almost orgasmed just from that, and they stared at him in naked need as they did so.

“tell me, frisk,” he said. “i don’t know your body, your patterns. will it make you hornier tomorrow if you don’t finish yourself today?”

Oh, this was dangerous. Oh no. They needed… oh, this was going to be so hard.

“I… I don’t know,” they said. “... but probably.”

“then don’t,” he said.

There was no escape from the torment, from the fire. The very next time they came, it would be from him. Flashes of images, of imagined sensations, tore at the scattered ashes of sanity of their mind. They squirmed helplessly, pierced in place by his gaze.

“As you wish,” they said.

The question burned in their mind, and escaped without any conscious choice.

“...will you?”

“of course,” he said with a smug grin. “i’ll be thinking of how desperately you’ll be writhing, unable to do anything about it, when i finish.”

Tonight, while they were tormented by need, he’d be getting off to that very torment. They held themself back from begging him to somehow rescind his earlier order, to maybe let them cum right in front of him now, something.

But that was all they could restrain, as sounds of need emerged in strangled whimpers, as their body writhed in desperation.

“in fact, i think i’d like to start right away,” he said. “so, in the interest of us not doing anything sexual together today, you probably should leave.”

He wanted to satisfy himself right now, and if he tried with them here, they would surely cross some other line. But that made things simpler. They would leave. They would burn and melt. They would be ready for the next day.

They managed to stand and moved towards the door.

But it wasn’t quite right, yet. There was something they wanted him to know. They turned around to face him, face the darkness of his gaze.

“Sans?” they asked.

“yeah?” he said.

“Thank you,” they said, trying to pour their sheer gratitude, their appreciation, their joy at all this into their voice. Hopefully he could hear it. “I look forward to tomorrow.”

They gazed at him longingly and then turned to leave, stepping forward… and bumping into Sans.

Their eyes refocused and he was right there. Scant inches from their face, their startled breath washing over him, their breasts lightly pressing into his chest. His grin broadened as they didn’t step back.

“you seem distracted,” he said, sounding deeply amused.

“Y-yes,” they said.

“it occurs to me that you might get lost or even walk into telephone poles on your way home, so how about we take a shortcut instead?”

“Oh, uh, yes, thank you,” they said and he laughed.

With another shifting sound - and they really should have heard it the first time, if they were able to think - they found themself in their room. It was dark, with only the lights of the town coming through the window.

Sans had positioned them with him standing right at the edge of the bed so that Frisk’s legs were pushed forward, making them fall backwards onto it.

They stared at him. Framed in shadow, the only thing they could clearly see was the spark of flame in his eyes. There was also a strange sort of blue glow from his body, like a light was shining inside his clothes. He looked dangerous, some primal part of them reacting to the sight of a skeleton, glowing with magic, in the darkness of their room.

They lay in front of him, on their bed, and he could so easily… he could do anything he wanted to them. He wouldn’t, and they wouldn’t let him, but… but it would be so easy. The tension was so thick they couldn’t breathe.

He seemed to breathe slowly, too, as he stood there in the silence, staring. His hand slipped out from his pocket and slid to the top of his shorts, fiddling with the band. He was clearly considering something… but what? What did he want to do? He shouldn’t, they shouldn’t let him, but he clearly was struggling with his own desire, and that was going to make them completely insane.

He let out a slow breath and closed his eyes, breaking the spell. They discovered that they hadn’t been breathing and took a wavering breath as his hand stilled.

“goodnight, frisk,” he said in a low tone.

“G-goodnight, Sans,” they said and he disappeared.

Oh it was going to be very hard to sleep tonight. They fell back onto the bed in a daze for long minutes. They lay there for around an hour, occasionally touching themself because they just couldn’t resist, with all the thoughts running through their head. It was a shame they couldn’t cum, because that was the horniest they’d ever been in their life and waiting till tomorrow just seemed impossibly difficult.

They were still in a daze of lust when they heard their phone buzz with a text. They checked it.

Sans: uh frisk

Sans: i realize that i was being a dick

Sans: so i need to apologize

Sans: uh sorry

They giggled and grinned at the screen as they responded.

Frisk: Don’t apologize.

Frisk: That’s the hottest thing that has ever happened to me.

Frisk: It was so good.

Frisk: You should do that again.

Frisk: wait

Frisk: Only if you want to.

Sans: frisk

Frisk: Yes.

Sans: u rly need to hear me out b4 agreeing to things

Frisk: Only if you order me to

Frisk: but inside I’ll agree anyway

Frisk: You can’t stop that

Sans: uh

Sans: i think ur still having trouble

Frisk: So much trouble. It’s so good.

Sans: u dont have to do anything i said at the end

Frisk: Okay

Frisk: I appreciate that

Frisk: but I think the horny Sans had a better idea of what tomorrow’s horny Sans will want.

Frisk: You’ll want me desperate and needy. I bet it’ll be easy to make me beg.

Sans: i feel like i need to stop this somehow.

Sans: this is my fault.

Frisk: Yes, Sans. It is all your fault. You made me into a quivering puddle of horny desperation. You did this.

Frisk: And tomorrow, you can fix it.

Sans: uh

Sans: ur gonna be rly embarrassed when u read this later. i would say i wont make fun of u for it.

Sans: but that would be a lie

Frisk: I probably will. Do you like it when I’m embarrassed?

Sans: im trying to stop the insanity

Sans: or at least slow it down

Frisk: I can’t be stopped.

Sans: ok that is true

Sans: but u dont have to be determined about this

Frisk: I know what I want. I want to see you like that again. I want to taste you. I want to feel you.

Sans: i hate to do this to u

Sans: but its only the one time

Sans: its not right. i prolly shouldnt have agreed.

Frisk: but you did agree. I will have a memory to cherish forever.

Frisk: Now I’m worried. You don’t regret agreeing, do you?

Sans: uh. dont worry.

Frisk: That’s not an answer.

Sans: of course i regret agreeing.

Sans: that doesnt mean ive changed my mind.

Frisk: Please don’t regret this. You’re only worried about it for my sake, right?

Sans: i think so. its a whole mess.

Frisk: I want this so much. Even just the one time. Today was incredible. I’m so grateful.

Frisk: You have no idea how much I want this.

Frisk: Especially right now.

Sans: i uh

Sans: could tell.

Sans: u arent good at hiding things from me.

Sans: at least i dont think so. unless u hid something from me that i dont know about.

Frisk: I can’t think of anything I’ve hidden from you.

Frisk: Well.

Frisk: Nothing important.

Sans: frisk.

Frisk: Sans.

Sans: frisk no.

Frisk: Frisk yes.

Sans: that was so bad. u shud feel ashamed

Frisk: You know you laughed.

Sans: u cant prove anything

Frisk: Really though. I did hide how much I’ve wanted this for months. So I guess I could hide it.

Sans: uh

Sans: i think i knew. sorta. i was rly trying not to think about it. so i pretended i didnt have any hints

Sans: but looking back its kinda obvs

Frisk: I’m glad that you could see it, even if you pretended otherwise. I don’t like hiding things from you.

Sans: its good that u dont want to hide things from me

Sans: somebody has to know enough to keep u sane

Sans: well not sane but something close to it

Frisk: I’m really not sane right now.

Frisk: It’s going to be so hard to sleep.

Sans: u rly r allowed to do something about that

Sans: u dont need to do this to urself

Frisk: I want to. I want to cum. I also want to be desperate for you tomorrow. This is so hard, Sans.

Sans: u could just uh do what u need to sleep well tonite and then work on the other thing tomorrow

Frisk: Would you like that? For me to play with myself before coming over, so I’m extra needy?

Sans: wow so this convo is going to be xtra hard for u tomorrow.

Sans: i wonder if ill hear u scream from here when u read it

Frisk: I bet you’ll hear me scream tomorrow.

Sans: i give up. this is hilarious. ull just have to accept never living it down.

Sans: make sure u get enough sleep tonite ok?

Frisk: I’ve got some sleeping meds. Don’t worry.

Sans: i dont think i have a choice.

Sans: i just hope ull be ok

Sans: when all this is over

Frisk: I will be.

Sans: sleep well ok?

Frisk: You, too, Sans. Goodnight.

Sans: night.

The sleeping meds were, in the end, quite necessary. And when Frisk woke up the next morning a little more sane, if not completely recovered, they did in fact scream in mortification when reading the text messages from the previous night.