Sans took his time trying to wrangle with everything. It was difficult and, in a few ways, kind of depressing. If he were a better person, or if either of them were mentally healthy, this would be easier… but also, in any of those cases, this situation wouldn’t exist at all.

He texted Frisk later that first day, saying that everything was fine, their friendship was still solid, and that he would send them another text when he’d finished sorting out his thoughts. They often needed that reassurance, else they’d get twitchy. It was true, too - this really hadn’t impacted their relationship in any way that actually made a difference.

In some ways, he’d had a wrecking ball just go on a demolition rampage through his poor skull. In others, he hadn’t actually learned anything new.

In hindsight, the only reason he hadn’t thought it extremely likely that Frisk wanted a sexual relationship was because it would complicate things, and he’d let himself fall into the idea that if he never thought about it, it wasn’t a problem. He’d poked and prodded at the limits of their loyalty and devotion before - a process that was simultaneously comforting, horrifying, and bewildering - but he’d willfully refused to look in the direction of sex. Just, at all.

Partly because… well, he knew he wasn’t exactly a moral paragon. He did care about his self appointed role as a judge. He did care about concepts of morality. And on a deep level, they did matter, but in the end…

Well, in the end, he’d initially taken Frisk to be just a child, due to their baggy clothing and short height, and despite that, would have killed them the moment they appeared in Snowdin because he wanted Papyrus to see the sun. Only reason he didn't was because of a promise that he didn't even want to make.

In other words, while he wasn’t quite as fucked in the head as Frisk - and other than Flowey, he’d never met anyone else who was even close - they were still quite a pair.

There was this distant sense of the way things should be… but that’s not the way things were. And sometimes, trying to abide by what “should be” just messed things up worse. Sometimes you just had to work with the world the way it was.

And his reality was, there was a time-looping immortal who had, as they put it once, “broken into burning shards and reforged with devotion to Sans as the single thread of purpose to their soul.”

He had tried to encourage them to try to heal, to try to be their own person, but they’d just said stuff like, “it’s not who I was, but it is who I am now, and it is my deepest desire to always remain so.”

Which, of course, made him feel like an asshole trying to turn them into someone they didn’t want to be. Especially since they weren’t pushy about it at all - never giving him any trouble about spending time with others, even encouraging him towards a romance with Toriel, which hadn’t gone anywhere, never making demands on his time. Well, beyond their fervent excitement about the memory-reset experiments.

They’d also made excellent points about how the rather profound extent of their collective issues - their trauma, their guilt, their extremely top-secret and dangerous power of time looping and all the consequences of that, their bizarre association with Flowey, their fanatical devotion to Sans - was almost certainly beyond the pay grade of any therapist in existence.

Which collectively meant he couldn’t do anything to make them not attached to him. Other than giving them absolute orders in a way that seemed somehow even worse. What “should be” involved a world where that wasn’t the case at all, so how were questions of what he “should” do even applicable?

Even an entire year of only really interacting with Alphys and Flowey hadn’t made a dent in their devotion to him. If anything, it only seemed more stable. Part of him had just become convinced that they really had broken and reforged their soul permanently like this. That he really could just count on them being there forever.

And it really was convenient. And comforting. And increasingly comfortable. Part of him wanted to just give up resisting the situation and just accept it. To use them like they wanted to be used. A friend, a confidant, a companion, a source of insight and perspective, a place of warmth in an often dark world. And now, as a sexual outlet. He’d never used them as a maid, or anything, but all of the other things? They wanted to be used that way.

In that last case, clearly wanted it quite badly…

And if ever he was unsure if they really, honestly wanted to be used in any given way, he could just ask. They did try to mislead him a little on occasion - usually by pretending to be more okay or more sane than they were, though he’d mostly broken them of that - but, as long as he was paying attention, he was pretty hard to fool. Which meant he didn’t have the usual uncertainties about what people really wanted. He could just ask, and that would be that.

They didn’t pretend to be something they weren’t. He’d asked them, once, if they’d clean the house, and they said they obviously would. He’d then asked them if they’d want to clean the house, and they said they hated cleaning, but wanted him to be happy. They just… made themself available to him. Their skills, their likes, their dislikes, anything. He even could ask details about which of his jokes they liked, and they didn’t pretend to like them all - though they’d insisted that his delivery salvaged even jokes they’d otherwise dislike.

All that, really, just added up to the fact that, in some extremely critical ways, his trust in them was just about absolute.

And none of it changed just how fucked up this all was.

It was about a week before he texted them that he was ready to meet. Together, they came up with a time, and then they came over.

“I’m so sorry,” Frisk said, as soon as they arrived and stepped inside, framed in sunset colors as they wrung their hands. “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, and of course, they stopped instantly and looked immediately calmer. “relax, frisk. 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.”

Their face relaxed into one of contentment and relief. He gestured them to come and sit on the chair next to the couch, where he was sitting.

“there is something i need from you,” he said, and their face lit up. “i’ve, uh, done my best to make sure that i won’t be as easy to distract this time. 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?”

Their face did a number of things before settling on bemusement, with a faint, but still wicked gleam in their eye.

Which was exactly why he’d decided to phrase things that way. Their hopes were already up anyway, and he had a sinking suspicion that there was no way things were going to unfold in a direction that stopped this insanity.

But he had to keep them from driving this conversation in that direction this time, for the sake of his short-term sanity, if nothing else. And the best way to do that, he had decided, was to both outright ask, and to make a single, awkward confession.

It was helped by the realization that he’d been kind of a dick to Frisk last time, with them making themself profoundly vulnerable and having no idea if he felt anything at all. So this little confession made the situation feel more fair.

“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.”

Their grin broadened.

“I’m glad to have the chance to protect you from yourself,” they said, amusement dancing in their eyes.

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.”

He rarely cursed, mostly so that when he did, it’d prove more potent, and it paid off. Their eyes went wide with shock.

“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. “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.”

If looks could speak, Frisk’s face would be screaming fervent denial, just yelling “no” over and over again, horror and rejection dominating their face.

“but i don’t always do what i think morality says should be done,” he said, looking down at his hands as guilt twisted him.

Their expression shifted into one that was tender, regretful, and solemn.

“For what it’s worth, Sans, I really feel differently,” Frisk said softly. “I am my own person, and I have my own wants. 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.”

That argument shook him.

He kind of… was viewing them in that particular way, wasn’t he? He continuously thought of the way he could just ask questions and be confident in the answer, or tell them to do something and them doing it, as “taking advantage” of them. The idea that his very attempt to try to keep himself more moral, more restrained, was itself disrespectful to them… he had a hard time with that concept.

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

“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, having some trouble with this. “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.

“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.

He had noticed, of course he had, that their anxieties and nerves, their guilt and shame, all sorts of things, tended to evaporate when he fell to the temptation to give them orders of some kind. That, to the best he could tell, they really did feel good being used by him. They’d frequently get this contented expression like everything was right in the world.

“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. Er… sort of, but I am in this particular sense, anyway. 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.”

He could do that. He could try to order them to break off from him, to speak to him more normally, to stop obeying him in all things. To stop answering his questions like this.

But… damn them both to hell, neither of them wanted that.

If Frisk hated this situation, then yeah, he’d do everything he could to try to break them free of their devotion. But they loved it.

And on a purely selfish level… the only other person in the world he felt he could absolutely trust to have his back was Papyrus, and well… he kept a lot of things from Papyrus. He never wanted to burden his brother with anything, and his own head was full of burdens.

Frisk, despite their utter insanity that ought to make them count as unstable, managed to be a point of stability in Sans’ life. He would second guess himself sometimes, sure, but he never had to. And sometimes, when he was feeling lazy, he just didn’t. He would just tell them what he wanted them to do, just tell them to explain their thoughts or feelings, and things would be so easy.

And on a purely selfish level, he didn’t actually want to give that up. And they didn’t want him to give it up, either. So… why did it seem like giving it up was right, in that case? What was right, in this situation?

“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.”

Why the hell were their eyes shining with such delight? He suppressed a groan. He knew damn well why, of course, but still.

“mostly because of things you already mentioned - 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 said.

He took a breath and braced himself. This next bit was incredibly uncomfortable.

“sex is a little more sticky,” he said, and they giggled. He grinned at them. “the fact is, between the two of us, one hundred percent of the sanity is in here.”

He tapped at his skull, and 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. 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.”

Their eyes were shining with manic glee.

He supposed he had just said that he’d agree if the questions were answered to his liking… well, it was a good thing he’d tried to beat out all hint of lust from interfering.

“Whatever you want to know,” they said.

“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 uncomfortably.

He’d been calling them that forever, but it did feel awkward when they were talking about having sex. He hadn’t meant to say it again, but habits were hard to break.

“asking you what you actually feel for me would be a bad question, because it’d probably take days,” he said and they laughed. “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.”

They nodded eagerly.

“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?”

“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.

He had to wait almost ten minutes before they spoke, but their facial expressions were interesting during that time.

“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.”

The fucked-up-ness of this situation was not improving. Also they really apparently struggled with the whole “not flowery answers” thing.

“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.”

This was interesting, mostly because it didn't match his predictions at all. He'd honestly thought that hypothesis was the most likely option, and failing that, that they wanted romance in some fashion. But they were actually opposed to it?

“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 was a little unsettling how incorrect he'd apparently been.

“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.

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

It was… interesting. And he had to admit, kind of appealing. Romance was hard for him, too. What they’d described as their ideal, of being “deeply intimate friends” who shared everything, including sex? That was kind of what romance was, except it just sounded easier.

No relationship worries, no second guessing, none of the usual bull and uncertainties.

But with lots of guilt for using them like that. He didn’t see any way around that issue.

Still, he wanted to make absolutely sure.

“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 pressed.

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.

“And in those fondest imaginings, you do declare your love for me, but not… not like that. 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.”

He leaned back thoughtfully.

It was kind of like the last conversation, really. Feeling like a wrecking ball was going through his thoughts from revelations, but at the same time, not actually revealing anything that, on some level, he didn’t already know.

They’d said all this, in some fashion or another, since the day they’d first met. In this timeline, anyway. He'd just constructed something else in his head.

The look on their face - now, and all those other times - they absolutely believed it.

The only question was - were they right about themself? Were they self aware enough?

Maybe it was wrong of him, but… he really thought they were.

He looked at them again.

The temptation to just… accept everything and let them be his was real. It would be so easy. Just to give up second guessing everything, give up worrying about their mental health, give them an order to tell him if ever their mental health seemed to be degrading, and just let the cards fall where they may.

Well. There were a few things he could still hash out.

“okay,” he said. “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. “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.”

That earned another long sigh. Seriously…? He wasn't even going to think about that. At least, he'd try not to.

There was no way he would successfully not think about this, but that was a problem for future Sans.

“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.”

And of course they thought he should have a say in how they handled their needs…

Though, to be fair, he figured it was just them being careful in the same way he was trying to be - making sure no issues of jealousy or the like crop up.

“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.”

Of course it did.

That particular bit of ridiculousness aside… this was sad. And it made a lot of sense. Until they healed, if they ever did, they couldn't ever have one of the most fundamental needs of the human mind. And worse, apparently couldn't even properly want it.

That was the part he had the hardest time with. Not being able to fulfill a basic need because of mental damage made sense, but not even wanting it? Or being jealous of those who had it?

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

They shook their head.

“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…”

Their face scrunched up.

“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…”

Their lip trembled and they forced themself to speak.

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

They looked incredibly vulnerable as they trembled in the next chair over.

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

It wasn't like he didn't already know their head was fucked up to a staggering degree. It was still sad to see the extent of it anyway. It made sense, too. Romance, in the usual sense, just wasn't a match for the whole subservient devotion thing.

They were bound to him in a way that meant they couldn't even hope for that kind of love. They deserved better than this.

And worse, if he was understanding them correctly…

“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.

Their face lit up with relief.

“Yes, exactly,” they said.

He sighed again. He thought about offering them a hug - he was sure it would make them feel so much better - but he needed to stay objective. To stay focused. To keep them at arm’s length as he tried to sort out this giant mess.

“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 the sound was wrenched in pain in ways that Sans had not expected from his comment.

“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, feeling a little frustrated with this insanity.

“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 didn’t tend to groan out loud, but this situation earned the exasperated noise that escaped him. He was leaning back and looking at the wonderfully not insane ceiling.

“if you’re this obsessed with me, how would you even function if i weren’t around?” he asked, letting his exasperation into his voice.

“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.”

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They nodded thoughtfully.

“Yes, I think that works,” they said.

He supposed that was reasonable. A long time ago, he’d figured they just needed some goal, some purpose, to latch onto. That being a creature of such intense determination without any focus is part of what screwed them up to begin with.

With a start, he suddenly realized, that was it. That was all the things he really needed to know.

They really weren’t pining after him for a conventional, fairy-tale romance. What they wanted was to be his most cherished “possession,” of sorts, to be used in whatever ways he needed, and ideally used in ways that they wanted. To have a relationship, a dynamic, that was as simple as it was fucked up - that they were simply his, in pretty much every sense.

The question was, what should he do now?

No. That ship had sailed. The question was, what did he want to do now?

With a sensation almost like dread, he realized he knew the answer to that.

Other than things like wanting the people who mattered to him to be happy, what he wanted most was to remember the resets. To never, ever have to face being in a dead end in time. To never have to be erased like so many other Sans-es had been erased.

And their idea was practical. But it was missing a component. Deep down, he’d been trying to keep Frisk at arm’s length. To be their friend, to care about them, but not to let them into his heart too deeply. And if what was needed for the memories to stay was a strong bond between their souls, he’d probably have to let them in.

And sex seemed as good a way as any to compel him into trying to take that step.

As his thoughts ground their way to that conclusion, another part of him was staring in horror. Was he really going along with this? Was he really going to do this - to fuck his friend for personal gain and pleasure, despite how incredibly messed up the situation was?

Slowly, he grew to accept that the answer was yes.

But he would try to keep some measure of sanity in all this. He still thought it was wrong to just give in and use them completely.

“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.”

“So then,” Frisk said, their voice breathless and desperately restrained, “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, almost begrudgingly.

The idea of them looping during sex was kinda… he didn't even know. But the only time they'd ever not looped for a trial was when they'd killed him, so it just made sense.

He… for many reasons… really wanted this to work. And after their last success, a part of him believed it really might this time.

“When?” they asked, and he looked at their bright and eager face.

What was he doing…?

“tomorrow, maybe?” he asked.

“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.”

Guilt tore at him. He shouldn't be doing this, shouldn't be encouraging this, he just… he wanted Frisk to be okay. And yet he was going to…

“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.”

Their face fell and they looked away.

“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?”

This was wrong. Anything he said would make it worse. Didn't want them to feel unwanted, didn't want them to feel used, didn't want them to feel encouraged towards the two of them having a sexual relationship… what the hell could he even say?

“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?”

He let out a low breath, halfway to a sigh. “If not for your ethics,” like it was a thing he could just discard. That was an important part of him. But outside of that concern? If he could believe that everything was okay, that Frisk was okay… who the hell could turn away from that?

“it’s a little hard to argue with what you’re offering,” Sans admitted. “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.

They reached a hand forward, towards his.

“May I?” they asked and he sighed, but nodded.

They squeezed his hand comfortingly. All his uncertainties aside… the contact felt nice.

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

If he had to let them in… well, he might as well say these things outloud.

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

Frisk was gently tracing their fingers over the bones of his hand. Their hand was so warm and soft.

He never said these things out loud. But if anyone could understand… and he needed to connect with them anyway…

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.”

Warmth pressed against his hand. Their cheek, he figured. He didn’t open his eyes to check.

There was silence. Silence and warmth. Frisk often stayed silent when they weren’t sure what to say, when they had no questions to answer. But they held his hand gently and the warmth was nice. They didn’t turn away.

“I don’t know if I should say anything,” Frisk murmured, several minutes later. “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…”

He sank deeper into the cushions as they pressed their face more firmly to his hand. Appreciation, he thought.

“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 breath was hot on his hand and they were trembling. Desire, he thought.

“i know you view it differently,” he said, finding the words oddly flowing, in the darkness of his closed eyes. “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 arm over his face, half to hide his face, half to make sure he didn’t open his eyes.

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

He… probably shouldn’t have said that.

A faint sound escaped Frisk. A sharp intake of breath followed by a sound halfway between a whimper and a moan.

There was silence for another long, few minutes. Sans just lay there on the couch, listening to Frisk struggle to breathe, feeling them trembling through the hand they still held tight. The anticipation he felt, the sound of their struggle with desire… apparently he hadn’t beat out his lust quite well enough.

“I… I know you see it that way,” Frisk said eventually, their voice wavering and husky. “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, and 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. “Try to… distract you from pesky thoughts.”

He moved his arm away from his eyes and looked at them. They knelt before the couch, holding his hand to their face, as he’d thought. Their cheeks were flushed and their eyes sparkling, their gaze burning with desire.

Desire for him. Pure, sweet, and compelling. No judgment for admitting that he was a killer. Their eyes were full of love, despite all the reasons they shouldn't love him. Acceptance of him, despite his inability and refusal to accept them.

He found that he just couldn't turn away from that gaze.

Slowly, feeling like his own better judgment was flaking away, he moved the hand they held. He traced his fingers over their cheek, their jawline. He held their chin and ran his thumb over their lips. They gasped lightly, and he let his thumb go into their open mouth. The wet heat of their tongue pressed against the bone. They closed their mouth, enveloping him in the sensation.

Their body trembled and another whimper escaped them. The warmth, the wetness, the pressure… it was nice.

They pulled back slightly, so that his thumb rested on their lower lip.

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

It totally did.

“let’s say it doesn’t,” he said.

With a moan, they moved forward and took his thumb into their mouth again. A slow breath escaped him as their tongue danced around him, caressing and sucking.

It felt so good.

His dick had been beaten into submission, but this was too much. If he wasn’t careful, his newest difficulty would be visible.

He wasn’t careful.

Another whimper and moan escaped Frisk when they noticed, higher pitched and desperate, and they writhed as they sucked at his thumb.

God, it was hot to see that. To feel this.

It was wrong to put this on Frisk, but… he didn’t need to worry about losing control and doing anything too much tonight. He could just relax. He could just enjoy this.

He gripped their chin and mouth and pulled them up to the couch, beside him, then let them start suckling his thumb again.

“Sans, I…” Frisk said around his thumb.

“your mouth feels good,” Sans said and they whimpered again. “i find myself wondering things that i haven’t let myself think about before. do you want to know?”

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

He pulled his thumb out and shoved in two fingers. They moaned and fervently resumed pleasuring him. It was weird how the sensation seemed to connect directly to his dick. It made him want the real thing.

“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.”

While they sucked the fingers of his left hand, his started to gently brush his right hand through their hair.

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

He trailed off leadingly, gripping their hair a little too tightly. They moaned and gasped adorably, squirming as they licked and sucked.

“I-I…” they stammered, but it was hard to speak with their tongue occupied like that.

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

The shiver that ran through them was beautiful.

“Mm-hmm,” they affirmed, their eyes wild.

“i want to do that,” he said and they whimpered desperately. “your mouth feels good… and it’d feel good elsewhere, too. 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. Their eyes fell to the bulge in his shorts and they writhed.

“T-th-that isn’t what you really want,” they managed, their gaze torn back and forth between his face and his dick. “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, looking dazed.

“i like knowing that i can trust you to obey me,” he said and they whimpered again. “i shouldn’t like that, but i do.”

He lifted their chin, making them face the ceiling, and traced a finger roughly and slowly down their neck.

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

They gasped and gave him a richly complicated expression as he tugged sharply at their collar and then let go, leaning back again.

“where could i touch you before you stopped me?” he said, his voice idly curious with a husky undertone. “if i took your hand, where could i put it on me, before you pulled away?”

“I… I…” they tried to speak, their eyes wide and wild.

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

“Yes,” they whispered.

“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.”

So many interesting ideas.

“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 admitted. “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.”

“Then we should stop,” Frisk said, their gaze sharpening.

Except he didn't want to.

He slowly reached out a hand to their face and they held statue still, indecision warring in their eyes. He touched their cheek and they cracked, leaning into it, reaching up to hold his hand there.

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

“i want something from you,” he said and they trembled in his grasp.

“Yes,” they said - a statement, not a question.

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

They whimpered again.

“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.

The look on their face was a work of art.

“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?”

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

“then don’t,” he said and they squirmed deliciously.

“As you wish,” they said. “...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.”

They whimpered and writhed again.

“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.”

They staggered to their feet, dazed. They started to make their way to the door, and then turned to face him.

“Sans?” they asked.

“yeah?” he said.

“Thank you,” they said, their voice thick with gratitude. “I look forward to tomorrow.”

It didn't seem right, letting them leave just like that.

With one more longing look towards him, they turned to leave.

Nah, this wouldn’t do. As they turned, he acted on impulse and teleported way, way too close to them, barely shifting to a standing posture in time.

Soft breasts pressed against his chest as they started to move forward, and their face was just in front of his. They were close enough that even with a human tongue he could have licked the tip of their nose, and their eyes widened like saucers. Their pupils were so dilated that they looked utterly lost as they gazed at him.

It was honestly kind of adorable. And better yet, even though their breasts had pressed against him with the step they’d taken, they hadn’t stepped back, keeping that very pleasant sensation on his chest. He couldn’t help but grin.

“you seem distracted,” he said, a laugh in his voice.

“Y-yes,” they said, almost mindlessly.

“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, still gazing at him with a lost expression, and he laughed at how mentally not present they sounded.

He bet he could have suggested taking them away so they wouldn’t get abducted by aliens, or because their blood had turned into chocolate, and they’d have agreed in exactly the same way. In hindsight, he totally should have, but then, he hadn’t realized quite how lost they were.

He reached out through space to their room, and following another playful impulse, lined up the target very carefully. Once primed, he activated it, and with a flash of blackness, they arrived.

He stood at the side of their bed, knees practically touching it. Frisk, however, for some totally unknown reason, didn’t have enough room for their legs, which were pushed forwards, making them fall back.

He could barely see them there, in the faint light coming through the window, shadows on their face. But he could see enough. He could see the way they gazed at him, on their back on the bed, their legs spread in the position they’d fallen. They didn’t move, and seemed completely captured by his gaze.

Their clothes could be torn apart with such incredible ease, with all the magic he had. They might as well be naked, and the way they were staring at him…

In this particular moment, other than the orders he’d given them earlier - and on some level, he was deeply regretting giving those - he knew that he could do anything he wanted with Frisk. Not because of their devotion, not because of them being broken, not because of any choices they’d made, but because of the sheer intensity of their desire.

Which, as far as his feelings were concerned, made his ethical objections seem really, deeply unimportant. And that meant the only reason he couldn’t do anything about this was because he’d decided earlier that they shouldn’t. Which, ironically, meant that the reason for his objections in the first place - their insane devotion and brokenness - was the only thing that prevented him from doing… anything.

His hand pulled from his jacket pocket and he thumbed the waistband. In this moment, they were his in a way more fundamental and primal than any sort of insanity, and that felt good in a way that he had never experienced before. If it weren’t for those… questionable orders… what would he do with them?

Thoughts he’d fought against so hard before were flooding through his mind. Temptations, pleasures. An image of Frisk desperately begging and then screaming in pleasure as he drove them to utter madness. How hard could he push them?

But, their devotion would stop him. How hilariously ironic.

The only thing he could think of that he could probably get away with was just masturbating in front of them, but that didn't appeal. It was downright boring. He wanted them to struggle, but not like that, not when even his choices were bound by his own damned order. He didn’t just want to enjoy himself, didn’t just want to torment them, he wanted their pleasure.

So he’d have to wait till tomorrow.

He closed his eyes and slowly exhaled, his hand going still. They gasped, the sound wavering and shocked, and he realized they hadn’t been breathing.

Yeah. It was time to go.

“goodnight, frisk,” he said, his voice low.

“G-goodnight, Sans,” they said, barely over a whisper.

He teleported directly to his room and fell to his own temptations, enjoying the knowledge of how Frisk couldn't do a damned thing.

It didn’t take him long at all before his head cleared and he realized that, once again, he’d been a dick. This was becoming a pattern…

He was incredibly frustrated with himself. He took a bubble bath to try to relax and responded to Papyrus’s message about coming home a little later, and then just took some time to think.

He had decided to go along with things because of a pragmatic reason. He had intended to not encourage Frisk into even hoping for a sexual relationship with him. This was supposed to be a one-off thing for science.

And in the interest of hoping, trying, something, to make a real emotional bond between the two, when he’d relaxed his guard and just ran with things…

He had not done a great job of preventing Frisk from getting their hopes up. Kinda the opposite. While he had, just a few minutes prior, really enjoyed the thought of the state they must be in, now that his head had cleared…

He was absolutely an asshole. He’d ordered a friend, his best friend, to go to bed horny and show up the next day lusty out of their mind… when he intended to not allow any sort of sexual relationship between them for real.

This whole situation was wrong and doing it for the sake of helping him to remember the loops was bad enough, but he couldn’t just use them sexually.

Even if just minutes ago it was looking like a really good idea.

And really, what the hell was wrong with him, at the end there? It was absolutely ridiculous that, apparently, he could trust Frisk more than he could trust himself. All his reasons, all his worries, all his decisions… when they looked at him like that, completely lost in a haze of desire… he would have done it. He would have taken them. If it weren’t for the earlier order… and he hadn’t said that to stop himself, he’d said it to keep Frisk on task and make things easier.

But he would have cracked, if not for that limit.

He knew he wasn’t the best at resisting temptation, but also, the hell.

And what he’d said and done to Frisk… that was downright mean. They shouldn’t have to suffer tonight just because the idea of it was hot to him. That was definitely taking advantage of them in a bad way.

He took out his phone and sighed. He had to say something to Frisk. He just had to.

Sans: uh frisk

Sans: i realize that i was being a dick

Sans: so i need to apologize

Sans: uh sorry

It didn’t take long before Frisk 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.

Welp, he’d tried. And if he pulled back from worrying about the mental and emotional health of his friend, it was hilarious. They were going to be so embarrassed about it.

He slept surprisingly well, all things considered.