Novels2Search
The Last Timeline
Ch. 16 - Connection (Frisk POV)

Ch. 16 - Connection (Frisk POV)

Once Frisk woke up, read their messages and screamed, they realized they had no idea when they were supposed to head over. A quick text exchange settled that, with Sans surprisingly not harassing them about the previous night - he seemed subdued.

It was a long few hours till their chosen time. Frisk texted Flowey and met up, making sure he knew that this time there was definitely going to be a major loop. He hadn’t been conscious during the other times, just using some magic to fall asleep, and intended to do the same thing again. He noticed that Frisk was being weird, but they managed to deflect him.

Frisk made it to Sans’ door, but wasn’t quite the puddle of desperate goo that they’d hoped to be the previous night. Nerves edging on actual panic had actually dominated a lot of their thoughts that day. They’d done everything to try to make things as perfect for Sans as possible. Clean, well rested, a trip to a spa for some services the internet recommended, only water and monster food in their system for over a week. They had no idea what else to do and couldn't even try to dress special.

Their engine would rev pretty easily, but what Frisk actually felt when they approached Sans’ house was a bundle of nerves. They thought about trying to do a knock knock joke when they showed up, but they were too twitchy to sell it.

They opened it and went in, and Sans was waiting for them, leaning up against the couch.

Frisk immediately turned beet red and couldn’t speak.

Partially because Sans had actually put in some effort into his appearance - in a manner of speaking. He was wearing the exact same outfit he had the first day they’d met. They’d lived that day quite a bit, and had fought him in that outfit. The blue jacket he never took off, a white t-shirt underneath, and black shorts with a white line on the front of the legs. And of course, those pink slippers. It was a day they could never forget, in more than one way, and for more than one reason.

“good to see ya,” Sans said. “we’ll have to take this meeting somewhere else, though. paps will be back soonish.”

“Let me guess, we’re taking one of your shortcuts?” Frisk asked.

“yep,” Sans said, heading over to them.

He activated the teleport as he reached their side, and a draft of cold air hit them both.

“Here?” Frisk asked, eyes going wide.

“it’s a bit musty, but it’s private,” he said, going into his old house in Snowdin.

“Looks like you’ve done a bit with the place,” Frisk said curiously as they looked around.

The lights had been replaced with glowing crystals. There wasn’t any humming from the appliances in the kitchen, and the shadows were odd, but it was mostly untouched. It seemed warmer in here than last time they’d visited.

“CORE isn’t running anymore, so there’s no power,” he said, heading to the stairs. “still, i have a generator out back if i need any. the light crystals are good enough. got some magic heating going. no one else comes down here, ever, so it was worth it to do a bit to get it usable. to have a spot that’s guaranteed private, y’know?”

“Makes sense,” Frisk said.

“yeah,” he agreed as he led them to his bedroom. “uh. i need to say something. there’s, uh, actually a number of things we kinda need to talk about first.”

“Y-yeah?” Frisk asked.

They stepped into his bedroom and something about that made everything seem real. It was a blow to Frisk’s gut. They felt so nervous they could cry.

They’d never seen his bedroom before. It looked like there was a lamp with some light, but not nearly enough. It was pretty dim. There was a double mattress just laying on the floor, up against the wall - no bedframe, no box spring. Light came through the window, too - the shadowy early morning light that Snowdin always seemed to have. A simple desk and what looked like an unused treadmill were the only other things in the room.

“i, uh,” Sans said, and maybe Frisk was projecting, but he actually sounded nervous, too. “i’ve never, uh, been with a human before. i have seen the internet, i know the basics, and it matches up pretty well, but. uh.”

Maybe he really was nervous.

“I’ve never been with a monster,” Frisk admitted, shuffling around with no idea what they were supposed to do. “Though I asked Alphys and it doesn’t sound like there will be any problems.”

Sans went and sat on his bed. It wasn’t the biggest bed, just a double, but there was enough room to, um. And it looked like the sheets had been freshly changed, which was really sweet, since Frisk knew he hated tidying up. There was a pile of blankets at the foot, next to a haphazardly placed pair of pillows, which was so Sans they just smiled.

There wasn’t a chair or anything, though. Frisk had no idea what to do, so they ended up standing there awkwardly.

“I’m not completely inexperienced, though,” Frisk added in a low murmur.

He gestured for them to come closer and patted the bed beside him.

Oh. They would be with Sans. On the bed.

Okay, so they’d technically done that part before, with the whole killing him thing a month ago, but that was very different.

This was…

Their face felt hot, but he’d asked, and so they would obey. They didn’t know where exactly they should position themself, so they tried to model the distance from the previous night. Close enough to touch, but not enough to count as pushy.

“oh?” Sans said.

“I had a few boyfriends and one girlfriend before I fell down here,” they said, fidgeting. “Though none at the time I fell, and none that were worth going and seeing again.”

“so it’s been a while,” Sans said and they nodded. “it’s been a while for me, too.”

Oh god, this was real, Frisk was going to die. Except, no, that’d be easier.

They had worked themself up into a bit of a frenzy, and it had died down in their sheer, uncontrollable panic, but this situation was… reminding their body of that fact.

They had no idea what to do. Should they say something? Should they stay silent?

Their terror was gripping them in pretty awkward ways, and all other issues aside, he was the one they trusted in the most, so maybe they could just admit that part.

“I, er, so I’m feeling really awkward,” Frisk said. “Excited, too, but now that it’s… it’s real and looming, it’s kind of terrifying, you know?”

“it’s kinda similar for me,” Sans said. “less terrifying in the nervous way, and more in the ‘what the hell am i doing’ way.”

He sighed and Frisk looked away. They wished so badly he didn’t feel bad about this.

“look, uh, frisk,” he said. “before, uh, we do anything, there’s some things that kind of need to be said.”

While part of them wanted things to advance immediately, on a different level, this was nicely not-terrifying. So they nodded and looked at him, curious.

“your plan is good,” he said, looking at the ceiling. “practical. but there’s… uh, it’s incomplete.”

“How so?” they asked.

“if i went and found a prostitute, that wouldn’t make the kind of bond that i think…” he started to say, then paused. “it’s not about the sex, exactly. the sex is a means to an end.”

Frisk nodded. That made a lot of sense. And Alphys had said it was completely optional.

“the problem is on my end, not yours,” he said. “but…”

He hesitated and sighed. Frisk’s hand twitched. He seemed to be having trouble. Should they take his hand? Or would that seem greedy?

“i see the way you and flowey interact,” he said. “i know about your history. i think you’ve told me everything at this point, haven’t you?”

They had completely not expected him to bring up Flowey.

“I’ve skipped trivial details, but, well, they’re trivial,” Frisk said, wondering where he was going with this. “You know everything remotely important.”

“i know it’s not even slightly romantic between you two,” Sans said, and Frisk nodded aggressively.

That was a downright unpleasant thought.

“but there is still, uh. emotional intimacy i think is the best way to put it. the connection between you two? it runs deep. in both of you.”

“Yes, it does,” Frisk murmured.

“even though he can’t feel things right,” Sans said. “it runs deeper than just emotions. i know he doesn’t have a soul, but, if i say it’s like it’s part of his soul, would that make sense?”

“Completely,” Frisk said. “And you’re right. I thought… I thought you didn’t have any chance of knowing how powerful our connection is. And, a big part of me… I know how observant you are, Sans, but I think you can’t possibly understand it. Not really.”

Maybe it was rude to say it, but Frisk really didn’t think it was possible to understand. Even if Sans started to remember… between their history together, and having a time where there was only one other in all the world who could understand and remember… Flowey’s mark was on their soul, and vice versa, forever.

“that connection alphys was talking about…” Sans said, and sighed again. “it’s not something that’s guaranteed. it's just, when monsters share magic, it’s possible for more than just magic to be shared. it makes it easier to, uh, connect more deeply.”

Frisk nodded.

“here’s… here’s the thing, frisk,” Sans said. “i have a lot of magic, and am pretty damn good at working with it. i can make the bridge. and, unless we are both seriously confused about something, your side of that connection is, uh, ready. you are already bound to me pretty intensely.”

They nodded again.

“i, uh,” he said, and rubbed at his head awkwardly. “i… don’t do that. do the thing where, uh…”

He was clearly struggling to say this part, but they were pretty sure they understood. And it weirdly made them feel better. It wasn’t that he wasn’t connecting with just Frisk… he didn’t with anyone. It wasn’t good, he should make those connections, but it wasn’t about them.

Still, they could at least help give words to what he was clearly trying to say.

“Where you meaningfully connect in a real way with another person,” Frisk said. “Where you let them in to the depths of your soul, absolutely and completely vulnerable.”

“er, yeah, that,” he said.

His awkwardness was honestly kind of cute. Frisk had never really had a chance to see him like this. He seemed… downright vulnerable.

Which, of course, reminded them of another moment, a month prior. Where Sans had been vulnerable in an entirely different way that nonetheless felt related, both to this moment, and to what he was saying.

The connection to that moment was too potent and the memory swept them away as it had done so much this month.

“Hugging a friend is a good way to go,” he’d said, his voice trembling with emotion. With fear.

Sans, no, no, no, they thought, desperate and hurting. They hated this, hated it, hated it…

Chara was faintly audible and was laughing, and they couldn’t block out the sound, there should be no laughter in a moment like this…

They didn’t know what they should do, but they embraced him, pressing into his chest. Blood, a strange sort of blood, was all over their face and clothes as they held him close. He shouldn’t die alone, he shouldn’t die, no, Sans, no, no, no…

“It’s okay,” he’d gone on to say, his voice sounding hoarse. Dusty. Like Toriel’s, like Papyrus’s, like everyone except Undyne, as they breathed their last. “I’ll be okay, Frisk.”

In Sans’s last moments, as he lay dying in their arms, killed by them, with the demon howling laughter in their head, Sans comforted them.

They felt it, saw it, his body was starting to…

No, Sans, no….

Tears poured from their eyes and for a moment they didn’t know if he was blurry because of the tears or because he… he was…

Something changed. He gripped them tighter, and they could feel that something had changed. This was for him, this moment, this last embrace. It wasn’t to reassure them. It was because he was afraid.

They embraced him with all of the love in their heart, with a demon’s cackle in their ear… and then with dust in their lungs, they were alone.

They looked away as the memory, the nightmare, the hint of the demon’s laugh, touched their mind.

“You did once,” their voice seemed to say from a distance.

“i did?” he asked, sounding confused.

Because it never happened, because he’d never experienced it, because he’d never, ever had to be afraid like that.

“At least, it felt that way,” Frisk said, only halfway returned to this moment from the memory. “When… when I killed you, last month. You… you didn’t want to die, and the way it felt at the end… you were hugging me close for your sake, not mine.”

Sans was silent. Frisk joined him in the silence, trying to surface fully from the memory.

“i feel like i should say sorry, and i don’t even know why,” Sans said.

Frisk couldn’t help but laugh.

“It was hard,” they said. “Really, really, really hard. I never want to see you die again.”

“welp, that seems reasonable to me,” Sans said. “i’m not interested in dying.”

In a weird way, Frisk maybe knew that better than Sans did. He knew his thoughts; Frisk knew him in his final moments. It was a strange sort of connection and it pulled forth a gentle smile, because in the end, it should never, ever come up ever again.

“I’ll never let you die,” they said, and then realized they had to amend that. “I mean… unless you choose to.”

“and even though it’s incredibly selfish, i’m really happy to hear you say that,” he said. “anyway. this situation is messed up. we’re not doing it on a lark. if we’re gonna do it at all, we need to do it right. so, uh.”

He paused, seeming to struggle with his words again.

“i’m, uh, gonna try,” he said. “to, uh, do the thing.”

“Where you emotionally connect with me?” Frisk asked, a gentle smile tugging at their lips.

Who knew Sans could be so cute?

“yeah,” he said awkwardly.

They couldn’t help it. They reached out and took his hand, squeezing it tightly. He gave them a smile, which was a relief - this was welcome.

“i tried a little yesterday, too,” he said. “but then you distracted me.”

The distant fire in their veins coughed politely and reminded them of its existence. Yesterday was… oh, yesterday had been…

Their delight infected their face and voice, and could not be stopped.

“I accept all blame for that,” they said playfully. “Should I be punished for it?”

He shoved them over and they started laughing, pulling themself back upright. It was so much fun to tease like that.

“yeah, yeah,” he said. “i was thinking about what i’d said, and i didn’t say a lot of things. like, uh. a problem. i kind of am split in half about you.

“on one hand… frisk, you deserve better than this. than to be this way. you deserve a chance to heal and become your own person. i know you said it’s disrespectful to think it’s wrong for you to exist this way, and i’m sorry, but that’s how i feel.”

Bright side, he had listened and seemed to understand what they’d said. Dark side, he believed their existence was wrong. Well, he was probably right about that, honestly. They were an abomination that probably shouldn’t exist. But they were his abomination, and he was good, so it was fine.

Maybe their thoughts were still being affected by the memory of killing him…

“at the same time… i really like having you be like this,” he said and suddenly everything was better. “the stuff you said yesterday, the kind of love you wanted - a lot of that stuff is already…”

Their heart was floating, flying, and free. They pulled his hand to their heart, embracing him to what extent felt safe to do so.

“i am glad you exist. i’m glad that you’re there for me,” he continued. “that i can always rely on you. and i feel like an absolute monster for feeling that way.”

“You… feel bad about partially fulfilling my wildest dreams?” they asked, their bewildered incredulity thick in their voice.

Of all the things to feel bad about… seriously?

“yeah, i do,” he said. “because things shouldn’t be this way. you shouldn’t be this way. i’ve been trying to be better than i am. trying not to encourage you. trying to give you space to become your own person, to be less attached to me.”

Whiplash. He was just wrenching them everywhere. But this was his struggle he was sharing. He wasn’t trying to wrench them around, he was trying to show them how he was feeling wrenched around. This wasn’t an attack on them; it was a confession of his own struggles.

They didn’t know what to think, how to help him, how to support him, but this was hard to hear.

“i’m not good at that, either,” he said, sighing. “i keep using you, encouraging you. i’m trying not to, but i guess i’m too lazy to resist. it’s just… easy, having you around, y’know?”

And for all that they’d struggled, in the end he wanted to use them and it took effort not to. He wanted them to exist, he wanted them to be his. They’d done it right, they’d been good and easy for him.

“this is gonna encourage you, too,” he said darkly.

They grinned at him. Yes, of course it would, but it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter if they were encouraged or faced opposition. They never fucking quit.

“this is the kind of thing that makes what we’re doing here wrong. i should be trying to stop this, not trying to make it worse.”

“Haven’t you learned, Sans?” they asked, flying high on a strange feeling of triumph. “I can’t be stopped.”

“i bet, with the right orders, with keeping my distance, and with time, you would change,” he said, knocking them out of the sky with a voice that sounded lost. “and i don’t know, frisk. maybe that would be the right thing to do. maybe not. i don’t know what’s right. i don’t know anything. i just know that this feels wrong.”

Their face fell and they sighed.

This was ridiculous. Their sanity had shaken with the memory and it wasn’t piecing back together very well. Partly because they hadn’t had much to begin with, but still. This was really frustrating.

“Sans…” they said. “Why? Why is who I am so awful, when I love it, and you like it, too? You’re talking about trying to force me… to force me against my will… to become someone I’m not.”

How could they put this, so he’d understand…?

“If I had a magic button that would suddenly change me - maybe back into the Frisk who existed before the genocide route, or into some other version of Frisk, like me but what you'd think of as healthy - I wouldn’t want to press it. I would beg you, pleading and crying, to please not press it.”

They wished they could understand his expressions half as well as he understood theirs. If only they could see if he understood.

“If you ordered me to press it, I wouldn’t obey you right away. I’d defy you, if only a little. I’d try to insist that I’d see it as me dying, as losing who I am. If you insisted, I would do it eventually, but only because I’m willing to die for you. And honestly, Sans?”

This admission hurt, it hurt and it felt like he’d given them no choice, they didn’t know how else to make it clear. Surely, he understood how devoted they were to him, surely he understood the significance of saying that they would partially defy him.

“If you refused to see it as killing me, I would die feeling like I had been betrayed by the one I love,” they said, heat in their voice. “Regardless of what the new Frisk felt, that’s how I would go.”

He looked away and caught a glimpse of pain on his face. They felt suddenly guilty. Maybe they were being unfair. But they wanted him to understand, damn it.

“i… guess it’s good that i wouldn’t want to press it, either,” he said, his voice low and rough.

Relief flooded them, but incomplete. They kissed his hand and breathed. It was good that he didn’t want to destroy them, but they didn’t… they didn’t want him to think it was right, either.

“Please, Sans,” they said. “Please say that you don’t think it would be right to force me to change who I am.”

“you’re right, frisk, it wouldn’t be the right thing to do,” he said, his tone oddly desolate. “but that means i have no idea what is right.”

Strange. He sounded like he had on that day, the first day they truly existed, the day they had slaughtered everyone and they broke upon the wall of their love for him. He sounded like he had when they’d survived his final attack. Like he had when he had been defeated. He sounded resigned, lost, maybe even hopeless.

Damn it, this wasn’t okay, either!

“Why does it matter?” they asked, desperate for him to understand. “Who cares what’s normal, the way things ‘should’ be, or anything like that? I like me being like this, you like me being like this, just… just accept me, Sans.”

Please, Sans, don’t fight this.

He looked over at them, locking gazes for a long moment as they willed for him to be okay, for him to accept this, to just have everything be okay. He sighed again and grabbed their shoulder, lightly pulling them into his side. This certainly felt more like acceptance than rejection. A happy noise escaped them as they snuggled into his side.

“it’s really hard to argue with you, kid,” he said in a grumpy tone.

“Does that mean you accept me?” they asked hopefully.

“i dunno,” he said. “but… today, i’ll try. just today, though. i’m gonna try to just let go and feel whatever, say whatever, and let the cards fall where they may. i’ll burn for my sins later, and i’ll try not to think about it till then.”

Okay, they knew this feeling, and unlike him, they couldn’t summon bones to throw at his head. Also they wouldn’t quite dare to do that much, but still. A firm poke and a glare was close enough. He jerked slightly at the poke and met the glare with a soft smile.

“It’s not a sin,” they said. “I know what it feels like, to have sins crawling on my back.”

And they were currently experiencing far more interesting and pleasant feelings. Hmm. That might help.

“Clearly what needs to happen is to distract you from these thoughts,” they said, letting their lust into their voice.

“heh,” he said. “speaking of, did you… uh… manage to sleep last night?”

A pleasant shiver ran through them at the thought of their attempt to sleep.

“Only because of the use of sleepy meds,” they said. “And I’ve been on a slow simmer all day.”

“that does sound distracting,” he said and they grinned.

“Good,” they said. “I want you to let go and just enjoy things, even if it’s just the once. I want you to accept the decision you made and let this time, let today, be free of all that.”

“it won’t be easy,” he said. “good thing you’re here to help.”

Oh, yes, this they could do.

“I am eager to serve,” they said, pouring their desire into their voice.

“there are still other, uh, concerns,” he said.

No… they wanted… they needed…

A pout pulled at their lips.

“i’m sorry, it’s terrible that i’m making you talk to me,” he said, his tone dry and amused.

Words almost escaped their lips - of him talking and them doing something else with their mouth in the meantime, and that was so wrong… they choked off, blushing furiously.

“what?” he asked.

No, no, no, they’d have to tell him, wouldn’t they? That they were thinking of blowing off a conversation that he thought was important, to blow him instead.

They shook their head, hoping that he wouldn’t make them answer.

“are you actually not gonna tell me?” he asked, amused.

That… that wasn’t an option, they had to say, but… but…

“It was awful, I shouldn’t have thought it, it was the worst thing, I couldn’t…” they managed with a squeak.

He grinned at them.

“tell me,” he said.

God his orders felt good to hear, even when they didn’t want…

They covered their face with their hands.

“Just that there are things that I could be doing while you’re talking,” they confessed, hiding. “But those things are not helpful for discussion.”

“heh heh heh… no, i wouldn’t expect they are,” he said, his voice heated, too. “i’ll ask you for the details in a minute. otherwise, i’ll get distracted.”

Mmm, they wanted him to be distracted. And if they distracted him enough, he'd forget to ask! Wins all around, as far as they were concerned.

“Understood,” they said, squirming a little.

“so, this isn’t a problem, exactly, but it’s a thing to be aware of,” he said. “the whole… thing… about using magic to try to help set up a connection? you’ve, uh, already learned about what accidental magic interacting with humans can lead to.”

Their eyes widened as they realized what he was describing. That, during the actual act, his magic might flood through them, burning them like his blasters did, killing them as they… as they…

“Are you saying you might literally fuck me to death?” they asked incredulously.

“come on, frisk, i’ve got more control than that,” he grumbled.

So it could happen, if he didn’t have control. Not that they wanted to actually die, that’d upset him, but that was still hot. They grinned at him.

“just, uh, that it’d be completely safe if i weren’t trying to make a connection like that. and i could try to be really careful and controlled, to do it without risking hurting you,” he said and glanced away uneasily. “but, uh… but i don’t actually want to. be that careful, i mean.”

He didn’t want to be careful. He wanted to just cut loose and enjoy them, not holding back, and if it hurt them, so be it.

He wanted to use them exactly the way they wanted to be used.

“with anyone else, i wouldn’t even mention it, i’d just make sure to always keep my head,” he said with a little cough. “but, with you, i figured…”

“Yes, Sans,” they said, practically purring. “I am absolutely okay with this. You try to connect with me, and just let yourself go. Let yourself fall to everything.”

“i am not okay with you accidentally dying,” he said. “you need to make sure you keep your vitality up.”

That was funny.

“You know who I live with, right?” Frisk asked dryly. “I pack more healing magic food items than most monster hybrid hospitals. I’ve got this.”

“and if ever it’s, uh, more than you’re comfortable with, you hafta let me know,” he said. “i don’t want this to be bad for you.”

He really had no idea what he was getting into, did he? They grinned at him, laughing internally at his naivete. That was absolutely not going to be a problem.

“seriously, frisk,” he said.

“I promise to make sure I am enjoying every part of what you’re going to do with me,” they purred.

“that is so not what i said,” he said.

“Too bad,” they said, flashing another grin.

Oh, they’d do what he said, if it came up, but they legitimately couldn’t conceive of how that could actually happen.

He shoved them over again and they couldn’t help but break into a giggling fit.

“what have i gotten myself into,” he grumbled.

“You know you’re looking forward to it,” they said, getting back on their knees and gazing at him hungrily.

“yeah, yeah,” he said, but grinned at them anyway. “i guess we’ll play that by ear. so, uh, one last thing.”

“Yes?” they asked.

One last thing… that meant it was soon… they bit their lip.

“uh, so, you kind of have shown an interest in, uh, making me have a good time,” he said and they laughed at the sheer obviousness of that statement. “i, uh, am a little concerned about making sure you do, too.”

“You can’t be serious,” Frisk said, their jaw dropping. “You’re actually worried about me enjoying myself?”

That was downright sweet. Also hilarious.

He coughed.

“i don’t know your likes, your tastes,” he said. “i don’t want to have us do things that match my tastes only. i just, uh, want things to be more… mutual.”

“But, Sans, what turns me on most is the idea of giving you pleasure,” they said.

“which means that this shouldn’t be too hard,” he said. “i figure, the easiest solution is for you to tell me some things. things you’d really like to try, things you’d definitely want to avoid.”

They frowned. There were things they’d like specifically, but it was just… so awkward seeming. What would they say? “Sans, I find the idea of you hurting me really hot, but only if you’re into that.” Or “Sans, I find the idea of you forcing me to do things while I protest really hot, but only if you’re into that.” Or “Sans, I like the idea of a gentle lovemaking session, where you treat me like I’m precious to you, but only if you’re into that.” Like, what was the point? They’d read up on all sorts of kinks online, and kept imagining what Sans might like, and as it happened, there was really very little that wouldn’t get them off in that context. Some things, yes, but not much.

And worse, almost everything on their “no” list was the stuff that was legitimately awful to even think of, let alone speak.

“That… doesn’t sound fun,” they said. “Just listing things out like that. Maybe I can just mention things as we go along.”

“i can see that working out well for things you really like, but it’d be awkward for things you don’t like,” he said.

“Maybe,” they said and thought about how to solve that. They had an idea and gave him a sly little smile. “Sans? Do you… like it when I’m embarrassed?”

“honestly, yeah,” he said. “your reactions are hilarious.”

“Then,” they said, blushing a little. “Then it shouldn’t be a problem.”

All they had to do was twist the awkwardness onto their own self, and that should work. He’d get an embarrassed reaction he’d like, and also the knowledge he wanted.

Except there was a problem that suddenly occurred to them.

“But,” they continued, frowning. “Does it apply retroactively?”

“yes,” he said.

“I don’t know if this is the sort of thing you want me to mention. I don’t hate it, I’m not opposed, but um, the ‘daddy’ thing is really not, uh, sexually my thing,” they admitted.

If that was his thing, they'd happily do it, but it always seemed so cringy to them personally.

“but it embarrassed the hell out of you,” he said, grinning.

“This is very true,” they said.

“good,” he said. “it’s always good to have handy tools for horrifically embarrassing your friends.”

There really was no escape.

“Oh my god, Sans,” they said into their hands.

He laughed again. Embarrassing as it was… they loved his laugh.

“also, you should tell me borderline stuff like that, too, if you’re unsure if i figured it out myself,” he said.

“Okay,” they said with a smile.

“that aside,” he said. “i want to know what you would want to do. like, right now, for example.”

They pulled their hands away and gazed at him with naked hunger.

“Give you pleasure,” they said. “Touch you, taste you, feel you. Drive you to distraction.”

“bit vague,” he teased.

They flushed and looked away. There was sadly a reason for that.

“I… don’t actually know what to do,” they admitted. “Or what I can do. I don’t know when or if I’m allowed to touch you. Or… or how to touch you. I’ve only, uh, figured out three things. Two ways of pleasing you with my mouth - one we tried, and one we alluded to - and sex itself. But… but many things with, uh, humans don’t look like they’d apply. Like, uh, kissing, for example.”

“you’re right that kissing isn’t something i can do,” he said. “and all that is a potential problem. so let’s start with that. i’ll show you what i like. how to touch me. i’ll learn your body some, too. and you’ll tell me if anything is either really up your alley, or really not.”

That seemed reasonable.

“O-okay,” they said, biting their lip.

“go ahead, frisk,” he said, gesturing vaguely at himself. “touch me.”

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

Their mind blanked.

“W-w-where?” they asked.

“where do you want to?” he asked with a grin.

Their gaze dropped to the bulge in his pants and they turned bright red, earning another laugh.

But… while they supposed they could escalate… they didn’t want things to go too fast. This opportunity was precious. Even if they really wanted to, there were things they wanted more deeply than that.

They reached, instead, for his face. His eyes closed and they touched his forehead. It was smooth and cool, but still warmer than room temperature. They traced their fingers over the side, feeling more of the magic pseudo-flesh over his temple and where his jaw connected. It was more pronounced over his cheekbone. With his “eye” closed, they could feel the changed shape of the bone. They lifted their hand to skip over his teeth, reaching down to touch his jawline. They felt almost nothing there - just the bone.

“It feels so strange,” they said. “What does this feel like for you?”

“probably similar to humans,” he said. “your fingers are soft and warm. it feels nice.”

That was good. They were glad that their touch was nice for him.

“Touching lips feels really nice to humans,” they said. “But teeth, not so much. What about for you?”

“whether it feels like teeth or skin to me depends on how much i exist outside of my bones,” he said. “go ahead.”

“That magic pseudo-flesh,” they said. “You feel it directly.”

“heh, that’s a good way to refer to it,” he said. “yeah, i do. pretty, uh, intensely.”

Good, very good. They grinned happily and went to touch over his teeth, where lips should be. Their fingers were fully held back from his teeth, with a firm barrier between. They felt him breathing through his nose hole, and none through his mouth. So his pseudo-flesh allowed some air control - probably helping him to speak like humans do. Weird.

“So weird,” they said. “And… and your mouth?”

“what about it?” he asked.

Eek, how could they ask this? But they wanted to know, and it… had a possibility of being relevant. They blushed as they tried to speak.

“Do you… um…” they said awkwardly. “Do you have a tongue?”

“not always,” he said. “some parts of me, the parts made purely of magic, they only exist when the reason for them to exist is present.”

So cool. But also, did that mean…?

Their gaze fell to his shorts.

“including that, yeah,” he said and they blushed furiously.

So he didn’t always have a… a cock. But when it was needed… when he felt desire, when he felt a sexual drive, it would actually come into existence. That was kinda cool. They wondered what it’d feel like, if they had their hand where it would form during that process.

Though, they realized with a twinge of regret, if this was the one and only time, they’d probably never find out.

“so i have a tongue when i want to speak or eat.”

They were so curious. And if this was the only time, they wanted to experience everything.

“Would… would it be bad to ask to feel it?” they squeaked out.

“nope,” he said, grinning more broadly at them. “go ahead and ask.”

He wasn’t going to make them ask, was he? Nooooo… this was hard, damn it!

“Sans…” they whined.

He laughed at them, the bastard.

“well?” he prodded.

They didn’t give up, damn it.

“M-may I feel your t-tongue?” they stammered.

“sure,” he said, and then added in a lower tone, “where?”

Heat flooded them at that question. They pulled back, covering their face and letting out a pathetic squeak.

“i like seeing you blush,” he said lightly.

They wouldn’t deny him, then, even if it was horribly embarrassing. With a surge of effort, they pulled their hands away, revealing their red face and naked desire.

“and i know the answer, but tell me anyway. did you enjoy me doing that to you?”

He was going to make them confess everything, to reveal the naughty, dirty slut they really were, wasn’t he?

“Y-y-yes,” they managed with a shiver.

“good,” he said. “also, you didn’t answer that last question.”

His last… oh. About where. Their blush had started to go away, but that had been fixed. They tried to steady themself with a breath.

“M-m-maybe my fingers,” they managed.

“hmm,” he said thoughtfully. “is that really where you want to feel it?”

They were helpless before him, he would take everything from them, he would find out any dirty thoughts, he would take his pleasure from them, and oh…

Their body was trembling and writhing and they were powerless to do anything about it.

“I… would like to feel it in several places, but I’m curious, and I think my fingers might be the… e-e-easiest p-place to start,” they said.

He reached out and took their hand, bringing it to his mouth. He opened it and they twitched in surprise as they felt something wrap around their index finger. It was like… a snake, maybe, or like that tentacle porn that for all they knew he’d make them confess to having watched. It didn’t feel like a tongue at all. Thick like one, sure, but much longer, stronger, and vastly more flexible than tongues were.

“It’s completely invisible,” they said, staring at their finger.

He laughed and the sensation vanished like smoke.

“sort of,” he said. “humans can learn to see magic, but it’s not easy. i’ll make it more visible for now.”

This time, when his tongue emerged from his mouth, it was glowing a faint blue. The same hue his eye glowed when he gathered his magic, or that some of his summoned bones glowed. Most of his magic was bone white, and they wondered at the difference.

Seeing it more clearly, it was definitely more like a flat, thick tentacle than a tongue. It moved gracefully as it wove around their fingers, binding them with a gentle strength. Like the rest of his pseudo-flesh, it had a pleasant sort of tingle to it, that somehow felt like the sound of humming.

“It’s beautiful,” they said as they examined it. “It feels so weird…”

“in a good way, i hope,” he said, his tongue ceasing to exist just before he spoke, but letting them play with it again as soon as he finished.

“Yeah,” they said, having a surprising amount of fun with this. It felt really nice. “Tingly, not wet at all, it feels really cool.”

“think it’ll feel good elsewhere?” he prodded, his tone playful.

Aaaaaand their thoughts were in the gutter again. This beautiful, fascinating marvel of magic, of discovery about a cool biology thing about their friend… and now they were imagining what that strength would feel like as it rubbed against their clit, about the tingling sensation, and how that’d drive them mad…

They tried to pull away reflexively, to hide their embarrassment, but he held their hand tight. Bound, held in place, at his mercy. They helplessly writhed in his grip as he held their hand flat and drove his tongue between the fingers, pushing past the flesh that held him back effortlessly.

The sensation of his tongue pushing past them… it was like he was driving his tongue into them. The imagined sensation filled them and their body clenched with need.

He laughed again, his tongue fading from where it had tormented them, as he grinned at them expectantly.

He’d asked a question, after all.

“Y-y-es,” they managed.

“now it’s your turn,” he said.

What? They had no idea what was going on.

“M-my turn?” they asked, dazed.

“unlike you, i know the basics of how your body should work,” he said. “it’s your tastes i don’t know about. though i’m sure i’ll know your ‘taste’ soon, too.”

Their face filled with heat. That sounded… that sounded… like many things. It did sound hot, but… but… it was important, it was critical, that it was what he wanted. If he was trying to pleasure them for their sake, that would be downright boring and sad. If he enjoyed doing that to them, though, then it’d be… it was hard to even think about it…

And he’d said they had to tell him. But how to phrase it? They weren’t thinking clearly. They wanted it and also needed it to be the right way, but…

“A-a-about that,” they said. “Um, I… the sensation would be nice, and I have absolutely no objections, it’s a good thing, but… but, in knowing my preferences, being given pleasure like that isn’t, uh, isn’t really hot for me.”

“would it give you pleasure? make you writhe and squirm?” he asked.

“Yes,” they said. “B-but so would me tasting you.”

“hmm,” he said. “if i’m understanding you right, you’d enjoy it, you’d feel pleasure and i could make you finish, but the idea of it is only hot if i’m enjoying doing it to you.”

He was magic, that was all there was to it. How had he understood so clearly from so little? Or maybe he’d had enough hints from other things they’d said.

“Exactly,” they said with a smile.

“what i’d enjoy is making you writhe, squirm, and moan, bringing you close to the edge and then deciding on a whim if you get to finish or not,” he said.

Frisk couldn’t breathe. A wave of pleasure tore through them and ripped their breath away, leaving them shaking. Their breath came back heavily when it returned.

He really was growing to understand them, wasn’t he? That was… could he have phrased that in a way that was hotter? They honestly didn’t know.

But if that’s what he really wanted… they weren’t sure if it’d be possible for them to not cum on his tongue.

Unless he was a horrible tease. Oh no. No, no, no… he probably was, wasn’t he?

“think that’ll work out?” he asked, breaking them from their agonizingly pleasurable spiral.

“Yes,” they whispered.

“good,” he said. “but, hmm. not yet.”

No? What was he going to do to them?

He put a finger under their chin, lifting it, just as he had the previous day. In a mirrored motion from then, he traced his finger down their neck.

They suspected they’d find out what he’d been tempted to do yesterday. Oh this was hard.

“tell me,” he said casually, like this was easy for him. “is there anywhere i shouldn’t touch you? anything i shouldn’t do to you?”

That was an extremely difficult question at the moment. They tried, honest, but they just…

“I… I can’t think of anything,” they said. “B-but, I admit, it’s also because I can’t think.”

“hmm,” he said, tugging at their collar. “do you like this shirt?”

They didn’t even remember what shirt they were wearing. But they didn’t care about clothing at all right now. And didn’t care in general, either, save for the locket that they weren’t wearing.

“What shirt…?” they asked dumbly.

He laughed.

“how upset would you be if none of your clothing survived today?” he asked.

He was going to destroy their clothes? They’d just be naked in front of him, and vulnerable, and revealed, and couldn’t even escape to put them on if they wanted to, and so utterly at his mercy, and…

They managed to make themself breathe, a quick gasp of air, before they could speak.

“N-not upset at all,” they said.

“good,” he said. “anything in your clothes that shouldn’t be destroyed?”

How could they have forgotten about their phone and keys and stuff? They had been completely ready for him to wreck everything. An embarrassed squeak squeezed out of their throat and they started digging in their pockets.

“I can’t believe I forgot, I…” they admitted, tossing aside their cell phone, keys, and wallet.

He laughed at them and his eyes glinted.

A small storm of bone shards appeared, delicately flying through and rending their shirt and bra into scraps. They barely touched Frisk’s skin, but never quite cut at them, and they tried not to feel a little disappointed at that.

He looked down at their chest and torso, blatantly taking them in. They weren’t embarrassed about how they looked - they knew they were conventionally attractive, for being thin if nothing else. Probably too muscular for most people’s tastes, but whatever. That’s what happened when you trained four or five times a week with Undyne.

But they didn’t know what he liked. Did he like softer bodies? Did he find humans attractive at all - would he prefer it if they were a bunny girl from Snowdin, for example? Would he rather have a female skeleton, with cool magic pseudo-flesh that could shape itself to his needs?

It was so embarrassing, being topless and revealed in front of him like this. They remembered how much they’d struggled with just having their shirt cut off below their breasts, during the stabbing trials. This was… maybe not fully revealing themself to him, but really close.

He put his finger back where it had been before he summoned the bones and began tracing it down. He shifted to using his whole hand, gently, as he ran it over their stomach. Then he made a slow circle, spiraling in towards their right breast.

“your body is nice,” he said as his hand moved. “i had to make myself stop thinking about it, when we had to do that stabbing trial, you know.”

So he did find them attractive. He’d had to stop himself from thinking about them that way. He actually did want them.

They supposed he’d already admitted that to a certain extent, but there were many ways and many reasons to want someone, and Frisk wanted them all. Okay, maybe not actually all, but at least all the good ones.

His gentle caress abruptly stopped and he turned, pushing them against the wall. They slid across the bed and, once braced, he harshly grabbed at their breast, squeezing and clawing at it roughly. This didn’t feel like exploration, this felt like desire and the idea of Sans really, actually, lusting for them, to feel it and not just think it…

Fireworks were going off in their mind and moans were shamelessly flowing from their lips. Their gaze met his and they knew, they knew he wanted them, and oh, he could just take them right now, they wanted so badly to have more, they needed him, they needed to cum, oh…

“tell me,” he said. “what felt better? when i was gentle, or like this?”

Their brain was giving them error messages, that’s what was happening.

“W-wh-whichever way you like more, th-that’s what I want,” they said, almost by reflex.

He pinched and twisted their nipple, hard. A sharp edge of pain stabbed through their body, feeling like it raced straight to their clit, making them throb with need and sharp pleasure. They didn’t expect that. Also… they were pretty sure if he tormented their nipples they would cum. They had mixed feelings about this. How embarrassing would it be to cum from him torturing their nipples, from just pain, without ever even touching their pussy?

Mmm, but if he wanted that… and he did, he liked it, they could see it on his face…

“wrong answer,” he said. “i know you like my pleasure. i want to know what you like.”

“Fucking hell, Sans, that was so hot I can’t think,” they moaned.

“oh?” he asked, a sly tone in his voice. “you think i like hurting you?”

Wait, were they wrong? Was it just that they were masochistic and had made assumptions? Was it just them? But they’d really liked it… but…

Sans just laughed, and they stammered helplessly.

He reached out and tweaked their other nipple almost as hard. They couldn’t help but respond, another lance of pain and pleasure ripping through them. Maybe some things didn’t matter if he liked them all that much, because it felt so good when he hurt them like that…

They wanted him to want this, but also… but also they wanted him to do it again. To do more, to hurt them more, to give them more pleasure, to please, please make them cum, they couldn’t handle this, they needed more…

“i hated stabbing you. i hated the impression, the feeling, of burning out your heart,” he said. “but this? this is fun.”

He clawed down their chest, and they felt none of the protective softness of his pseudo-flesh. Rough bone scraped their skin, leaving what had to be red marks in their passage. They were being marked by him, hurt by him, and it felt so good… more pathetic whimpering escaped them.

Suddenly, his hand was soft and thick with magic. His touch was gentle and felt loving as he softly touched both of their breasts. In the wake of the roughness, it felt impossibly sweet, like he wanted them in more ways than just carnal.

And they had no idea what he’d do next.

“tell me,” he commanded.

They tried to focus, to make words exist.

“Both feel really good, honest,” they said. “The rough feels sexier, the gentle feels sweeter. One to drive my body wild; the other for my heart. I… I admit the whiplash, the uncertainty, not knowing which way you’ll touch me next… that… that was really, uh, really hot.”

“you like the pain, too, don’t you?” he asked, pinching their nipple and making them squeak and tremble. “masochist.”

Oh, he knew. He knew they wanted to be hurt by him, that they loved it, that they needed it. They couldn’t speak, but they nodded.

“and how much pain would be too much?” he asked. “before it stopped being good for you, that is?”

They blushed brightly. Oh that was not a good question. That was probably a very dangerous question.

“U-uh, I-I, um, I think you really don’t want to know,” they stammered.

“and why’s that?” he asked.

Because I’ve literally gotten off to the memory of you killing me, they thought, but they couldn’t possibly say that.

“B-because you have concerns about my mental health, and the answer would not be reassuring,” they said instead.

He laughed again, trailing into an affectionate and faintly exasperated sigh.

“kinda figured,” he admitted. “i doubt we’ll cross your lines, then, but if we do, you are to tell me immediately.”

“Yes, sir,” they said.

He tweaked their nipple again, pulling another squeal out of them.

“not one for being called ‘sir,’” he said, sounding thoughtful.

Maybe he’d like something else more.

“Should I call you master?” they asked, their gaze burning. “Lord? My god?”

He tweaked their other nipple again and they squirmed.

“you could call me daddy,” he said, grinning.

Wait, did he like that…? He knew they didn’t… but…

It was too much. Too embarrassing, too ridiculous, too… too everything! They pulled away, shrieking in sheer mortification, and hid their face before remembering he wanted to see them blush. They pulled their hands down, as if their hands were bound.

“Do you actually want me to?” they asked, which was the most important question.

“nope,” he said.

He didn’t even… but… why…

Because he wanted to embarrass them. Damn it, Sans! They glared at him with all the rage they could summon from under the mountain of desire and he utterly failed to catch on fire in any way, shape, or form.

“that was educational,” he said casually again. “my turn.”

“What?” they asked, confused.

Oh. Right. They’d… learned about his tongue, and then…

“i learned about your breasts, and a few other questions besides,” he said. “what part of me do you want to learn about next?”

He leaned back against the wall and grinned at them.

That was it, they were going to die. They couldn’t. They couldn’t do this. They needed to cum. They needed him to torment their breasts, to use their mouth, to use their pussy, to make them cum, they really…

But he wanted to torment them. Their face fell into their hands and they just groaned, and then groaned louder at the sound of him bursting out laughing. He was mocking them, the smug bastard, as they writhed and needed and burned…

And he liked them like this, desperate and needy, he’d said. It wasn’t going to stop. They were going to be tormented by him for as long as he wanted and fuck that was so hot.

“You could just do whatever you wanted with me,” they said, desperation clear in their voice. “You could just tear off everything, and use me, in whatever ways you wanted.”

“you’re saying you don’t want to know anything else about me?” he asked.

R-right, they wanted a lot of things, and they really did want to learn about him more than most anything else, but they needed to cum, but, no, they had to learn more, this was a priceless opportunity, but, but…

“Sans,” they whined, knowing it wasn’t going to help, but unable to stop themself. “You’re tormenting me. On purpose.”

“yep,” he said. “but you like it, don’t you?”

How could they answer this? No, no, they didn’t like it, they wanted him to take them now and make them scream in pleasure, but also, fuck, it was so hot, but… but he’d asked, they had to answer, so they had to pull their thoughts together someh-

“answer me,” he commanded, and a wave of delicious pleasure ran through their body at his command, pulling a gasp from their lips.

“Yes, I do,” they said immediately, helpless before his order.

“i admit, i am tempted to use you to get off right now,” he said. “not sure what i’d prefer - your mouth has been tempting for a week now, but also… hmm.”

They were just going to die. They’d been needy all day, and after yesterday, they couldn’t take this…

He reached over and trailed a finger down over their abs, then over their pants, stopping just slightly after it he’d reached an “inappropriate” terrain change, but substantially too soon to give any pleasure or relief to their poor clit.

“what term do you prefer for your bits?” he asked.

They so did not care.

“U-uh-uh, I don’t know, uh, pussy is normal I think?” they stammered.

“sure,” he said. “your mouth and your pussy are both tempting. so while you explore, make sure you remember how much i’m looking forward to that.”

Oh. Oh that made it easy. Their gaze dropped to his bulge. He wanted them to taste him, and they wanted that, this would be easy, but they couldn’t cum like that, or hell, maybe they could, they were going insane… what would it feel like in their mouth…

“So… so that’s what I should do,” they said as they gazed, lost in a haze of desire.

A sudden pain in their head pulled Frisk’s attention away. They were shocked and pulled back, confused, and then saw the shit-eating grin on Sans’ face. He'd… he'd thrown a bone at their head, hadn't he? They tried to glare at him, but the sheer ridiculousness of everything was just… it was too much. They cracked and just fell over, laughing madly. There was no escape. Only delicious torment.

“nope,” he said. “wrong answer again. y’know, frisk, i wonder if you’re even paying attention.”

They were so totally paying attention! They were! He said he wanted them to taste him! They sat up and tried their best to glare, but they knew it was ruined by how fucking horny they were, and he just laughed at them, again, and they couldn’t take this…

But they loved his laugh, and loved his pleasure, and for all that they whined in their head, they loved this…

“i’d asked you what you’d like to learn about next, and told you to think about how much i’m looking forward to using you to get off while you do it,” he said. “i want to see you struggle.”

Right. Right, they’d already figured that out. He liked to torment them, to see them desperate. He wanted to see them battle between conflicting desires.

He could get that, too, if they were sucking his cock, just saying.

But, they understood. They’d let him torment them more.

“I don’t know how much more I can take,” they whimpered.

“let’s find out,” he said.

How would this end? Would he find their limit? Would they stop trying to focus on his pleasure and just start begging for him? Maybe that’s what he wanted. But… but the sooner he took them, the sooner this ended, and they may well never have this again. So they were in no hurry, even though they really wanted to fucking cum, god dammit.

How much more of this was he going to do to them? Oh… they wanted more, and they couldn’t take it, but they’d just have to take anything he gave them, and they would take everything, and soon… soon, for his own pleasure if nothing else, they would have it all.

Their body quivered with need, but they needed to focus. He’d asked what they wanted to learn about, and when they weren’t begging to cum - out loud or otherwise - it was an honestly good question. They could suffer while they learned, for his pleasure. But they drew on their will, their determination, whatever it took so they could think about the goddamned question.

“I… I want to understand how to touch you in general,” they said after a minute, gazing at him with desperate need barely constrained by their focus. “To not be afraid of touching the wrong place, or doing the wrong thing. Like your torso - in hugging you, I’ve felt, um, like there’s a body under your shirt. More… more than your face seemed to have.”

He gestured at himself, inviting them. They flushed and crawled forward to kneel directly beside him. They hesitantly reached out a hand. He would stop them if it was a problem, right? Well, no, maybe they should outright ask first.

“Your question earlier,” they said. “It was a good one. Anywhere I shouldn’t touch, anything I shouldn’t do?”

“eh,” he said with a shrug. “there’s stuff, but nothing i’d expect you to actually do. like, don’t try to hurt me, for obvious reasons.”

They nodded vigorously at that, a wave of fear passing through them at the thought. It was good he wasn’t a masochist, because they honestly didn’t think they could handle that, even if it weren’t for the whole vulnerable-because-of-a-magic-accident thing.

“i’m inviting you to explore with your hands for a reason,” he said, gesturing at them again. They began to move closer. “i’m not worried, and i have no problems stopping you, or worst case, teleporting away if there’s a problem. so go ahead.”

They nodded and reached for his jaw again. From there, with perhaps more caution than necessary, they trailed their finger lower.

His neck was completely filled with the pseudo-flesh. Inches of the stuff, and not just a little projection like over his fingers, or a separate sort of magic limb thing like his tongue. It was like an actual throat.

“So weird,” they said. “You actually have a throat.”

“i do breathe,” he said with a laugh, then blew some air into their face.

They really had not thought about that detail at all. Even with all the times he’d sighed, or how both he and Papyrus had panted with exhaustion after their fights, a year ago - they just… never thought about it.

“I guess that’s true,” they said sheepishly.

With a little more confidence, their hand traced further down. Unlike him, they didn’t try tugging at his shirt or anything, and just felt over it. They’d hugged him, but pretty much always in a situation where they were distracted by not-sexy emotions. They’d never really got a sense of his body, other than the fact that he seemed to have one.

Like his throat, the “flesh” under his shirt was weirdly thick. His throat had been more… throat-feeling, all firm and such, but his chest was really squishy.

“It’s just weird that there’s… I don’t know, so much pseudo-flesh here,” they commented curiously.

“hey,” he said, glaring at them. “are you calling me fat?”

Wait, what?

Oh no, they had, hadn’t they? They started spluttering and the glare on his face disappeared as he fell against the wall, laughing.

They tried to apologize, and he grinned at them, summoned a bone, and threw it at their head. Again. Well, they supposed that meant they could stop stammering out awkward, confused apologies.

“it’s my core,” he said and gestured at them to resume touching him. “honestly, it’s, uh… how do i put this… you remember when i said i’d had an accident that had some effects on me?”

They nodded. That wasn’t a moment they’d forget. There was a lot they were curious about, and frankly, they were even more curious than they were horny. Though only just. And mostly because his little prank had cooled their heat a little - feeling like they’d offended him wasn’t hot, but he clearly was amused by the whole thing.

He poked at their hand and they chuckled, realizing they’d gotten so lost in their head they’d stopped exploring! They went back to touching him all over his chest, and then down to his stomach.

It was like he was fat. Not seriously obese or anything, but definitely on the thick side. It was so weird that he was, in one sense, bone-thin, but also had a protruding belly. They didn’t mind, though. It wasn’t like his physical body had anything to do with their attraction to him, anyway - they hadn’t even been able to fantasize with any details until Alphys had told them about his magic cock. It was his mind, his personality, his soul… and his magic, his badassery, his humor, his power, that they were attracted to. And the situation that had reforged their entire existence with him as the center of everything, naturally.

“so, papyrus would have a body more like the rest of me,” he said. “where it sort of resembles humans, since we’re human skeletons, but only exists where and how it’s needed, so pretty slim. me, though… i am more powerful and more unstable. i am ‘fat…’ but also, i have to be.”

“It only exists when there’s a purpose, and so I could have guessed, if I’d thought about it the right way, that it needed a purpose,” they speculated and he grinned.

“you got it,” he said. “it serves a lot of the same purposes as in humans, actually. energy storage, insulation, and a layer of protection. i need a lot of food to maintain it, too. it helps keep my magic contained and prevents accidental, uh…”

They’d never forget how he’d said how vulnerable he’d been made.

“Prevents you from getting killed by wayward pokes?” they asked.

“sadly, yeah,” he said. “not quite that vulnerable, but basically. the rest of me - like my hands or whatever - aren’t such a risk. it’s only if you strike my core.”

Now that they were thinking about it…

“That’s why you always wear a jacket, isn’t it?” they asked.

“yep,” he said. “temperature is really not a thing for paps or me.”

“But touching you isn’t dangerous?” they asked, a little worried.

If they died, whatever. If he died… no.

He hesitated.

“i trust you,” he said.

Three of the happiest worst they could hear from him. A shiver of sheer joy ran through them.

“the fact is, i would have a hard time letting anyone else touch my core. you, uh, remember how you accidentally killed toriel that first time, even though you didn’t mean to, even though you didn’t have a proper weapon?”

“Even a slightly edged intent would be dangerous,” they said, gently poking at his stomach.

They’d really gotten the hang of controlling their intent with Undyne, so they weren’t worried.

“sorta,” he said. “it would take some real intent to actually kill me in a single strike, though not much. hurting me is easy - i basically have no defense at all. but it’s nothing to worry about. i know you’ve mastered that aspect of magic."

Wait, what?

“Of magic?” they asked.

“i mean, humans can learn magic,” he said. “and you’ve started. you’ve learned to shape and control the intentions of your strikes - to make them lethal, painful, or harmless, like against undyne in your spars. you even learned how to manipulate your defenses consciously, when we did the stabbing trials.”

Wait. They were learning magic?

They… guessed they knew that it was possible. Human magicians were the ones who had built the barrier in the first place, which meant humans had to be able to learn magic. And they were changing how their strikes hit Undyne, and how magic hit them - what else would that be?

“I… guess that’s true,” they said, staggered at the revelation.

“so, i wouldn’t let anyone else touch me here,” he said. “either i wouldn’t trust their control or their intentions. but you, frisk? go ahead and explore.”

He really trusted them. It felt so nice. The joy of it mixed with the molten puddle in their heart and just blended into a lovely sensation of desire, acceptance, and… belonging, maybe? Trusting them like this, it made this feel right, like he had cast aside his uncertainties, like he did truly want them here. And not for superficial reasons - for pragmatism, or simple pleasure.

“Can… can I, under your clothes, um…” they asked.

He laughed, obviously loving their nervousness.

“tell me what you want to do,” he said.

“I want to pull aside your jacket and lift up your shirt, to see what your core feels like directly, rather than through clothes,” they said.

“do it.”

A shiver ran through them at his command and they reached forward to obey. To obey their own desires, to obey him. But they knew he was vulnerable, so they were careful. They reached for the bottom of his shirt, which was right next to his cock. It twitched as they grew close and they were nearly undone.

They could give up, they could just beg for this to be over, beg for him to take them, and he might, or he might torment them more, but they wanted…

But they wanted this, too. This was also a precious memory and they might never get this chance again.

His jacket was pulled aside and they carefully lifted up his shirt. It had been laying on “nothing” - there was nothing beneath but a spine and ribs. They pulled his shirt all the way up.

So weird. They reached out with both hands, stroking and touching curiously. It didn’t feel like a human - fat or otherwise. It kinda did through the shirt, but not like this. It felt like… well, like compressed magic. Magic that pushed back against them, but didn’t have a clear boundary. It was soft and didn’t resist them much - they could “squish” pretty easily - but it also left their hand feeling partially immersed. Like they were, in a strange way, partially inside of him.

Some of their explorations made his cock visibly throb and each time was almost their undoing. He wanted them, he wanted their mouth, he wanted their pussy… oh how it made them squirm. But they could stay focused, they could have both, and this was so cool on pretty much every level.

Some of their explorations got him to murmur about how nice it felt, which sent shivers up their spine in a similar, but distinct way. He seemed to be enjoying just laying back and being touched.

How deep could they reach into him? They kept their intention as focused as possible, the most harmless and non-edged it could conceivably be - it was practically kittens and feathers. Wait, no, kittens were pointy. The point was, they shouldn’t possibly harm him. They pressed with purely physical power, their hand starting to slip slightly under his rib cage when a strange sensation hit them.

They had a feeling like they saw a faint wave of orange pass through the space under his ribs, though they also definitely didn’t see anything. It was a feeling of seeing the color, without the color.

With it came a faint burning sensation in their hand. Like they’d dipped their hand into a weak acid, maybe, but it didn’t feel physical. It technically hurt, by the barest of technicalities, and they felt their life energy slowly get nipped away.

But why?

“Why does this hurt?” they asked him.

He chuckled.

“you’re pushing a bit deep,” he said. “doesn’t hurt me at all. you’re being careful - which i appreciate - but like i said, my core is a bit unstable.”

They were directly feeling the instability in his core? The source of his power and vulnerability both? His attacks were very “Sans,” but this was the purest manifestation of him. An idea occurred to them.

They hadn’t thought about it in these terms, but they had learned to refine their defenses. A little with Undyne, though she was less explicit in her instructions, and more focused on Frisk’s attitude. But mostly during that trial where Sans stabbed them over and over again. Come to think of it, the way they'd learned to dodge in midair with some of Sans' attacks had required some twisting of their soul, too. Quite a few of his attacks had required something like that, now that they were thinking of it that way.

In hindsight, they'd done a lot with selective modification of their natural defenses, hadn't they? They just hadn't really thought about it.

His blasters would attack their soul, and his bones would attack their body and soul alike, but there was considerable overlap. This was a perfect source for both of those attacks. If they refined their defense against this? This should apply to everything.

Including the connection he wanted to forge.

And they were pretty sure it was the physical damage he was most uncomfortable with. If he stabbed them and it phased right through, they bet if they were getting off, he’d be fine with it, but would draw the line at blood.

If they could try to make this as non-physical as possible, to pull it away from their body as completely as they could, to take the full measure of attack on their soul? That should make him most comfortable. And, that was the kind of damage that the healing magic was best at.

This was a hell of an opportunity.

They focused. Their intention remained sunshine and rainbows, and their defenses began to shift. They focused hard on the sensations, trying to make sure they understood when and if it hurt their hand itself at all.

“what are you doing?” he asked, sounding curious.

“I want to be familiar with the feeling,” they said. “I also want to make sure my defenses against it are as strong as I can make them. It feels a lot like how your blasters feel, or your bones when they were cutting my… my self, rather than just my body. I imagine when you try to make that connection between us, it’ll be similar, and I don’t want to have to stop things to grab pie any more than I have to.”

“makes sense,” he said with a laugh.

They were getting the hang of this. Their hand wasn’t getting any more specks of reddened skin, and the magic’s interaction with their soul kept changing. They were very pleased to note that certain “defense configurations” made his breath catch slightly and were apparently downright pleasurable.

But they wondered if they could make it complete. An absolute separation from their body, an absolute surrender to his magic. On a purely primal level, that was hard to do. It felt like they were trying to submit themself to being consumed.

Now that they thought of it like that, having their soul consumed by his magic was also kinda hot…

And with that thought, their desire catalyzed the change.

Abruptly, all resistance disappeared. Their hand slipped fully into his core, and they felt their vitality draining into him with a strange sort of pain that didn’t touch their nerves at all.

The sensation lasted only a fraction of a second, however, as Sans immediately disappeared. They blinked and started to look up.

“what’d ya do, kid?” he asked, sounding surprised, standing beside the bed.

He’d teleported… had they hurt him?

“You’re not hurt, are you?” they asked.

He started to make his way back to the bed.

“not at all,” he said. “it… actually felt oddly pleasant.”

Pleasant? Good. They felt a wave of relief. This seemed like it had potential. It might help with the connection he wanted to forge, plus there might be benefits to being able to do what seemed like transferring their vitality directly.

And there were some interesting ideas on what they could do with this. His bulge seemed large and their mouth wasn’t, and they weren’t exactly experienced with deep throating…

“That’s a relief,” they said as he sat back down. “That seems like an interesting trick that could be fun.”

“no, frisk, that was way too dangerous,” he said.

Dangerous? But…

“I thought you said it didn’t hurt you,” they said, suddenly intent.

“i mean, for you,” he said and they scoffed. “seriously, frisk, that could kill you.”

He just did not get it.

“I really know how much I can take before I die,” they said with an amused smile. “I know better than anyone. It barely did anything, and I feel like I could maybe make things smoother.”

“frisk, no,” he said. “there have to be some limits of sanity. sacrificing your vitality, your health, your very life force for my pleasure is insane.”

That tore through them like nothing else. A wave of pleasure at the idea of it burned through them, their body clenching and their pussy twitching so desperately they couldn’t think.

That was the hottest thing they’d ever heard… oh, they needed this, they needed to do this, the idea of doing this while sucking him off, to serve him, to sacrifice their life for him, but not all the way, but enough to give him pleasure in so many ways at once, and oh…

A primal sound of desire emerged from them and then they managed words, they had to have this, they had to.

“P-please, Sans,” they said, their voice quavering with a need that was as absolute as it was mad. “God, that was so hot, you saying that…”

“frisk, that’s… that’s way outside of my comfort zone,” he said.

If he really didn’t want this, then they shouldn’t. They hesitated.

But. But they honestly thought he didn’t understand. He was afraid of hurting them in a bad way. This was pleasurable for them. He didn’t want them to accidentally die. It was completely under their control, it was safer than any other type of harm they could think of, they could pull back at the speed of thought. He didn’t want their body hurt, and it didn’t touch their body. He didn’t want anything too intense, but the pain of it was barely more intense than what he’d done to their nipples. Yes, nipple play couldn’t kill them, but they were well aware of the limits of their vitality.

Saying all this was outside their mental reach.

“If I were really careful in its use?” they asked. “Really, so careful, to be sure it wouldn’t push me over the edge… to death, I mean, not the other edge…”

“you could actually get off from that?” he asked incredulously.

“Not from just that, but in combination with other things? Yes, oh god yes, I could,” Frisk said. “Please, Sans, please don’t take that option away. I’ll be careful.”

They were probably going to cum from sucking him off, oh they wanted this…

They crawled a little closer, on their knees, gazing up at him and begging him with their eyes.

“you have to remember that i don’t like seeing you seriously hurt,” he said.

They absolutely knew this. They nodded.

“If it doesn’t affect my physical body, and it doesn’t kill me, it’s okay, right?” they pressed.

“i don’t want it to almost kill you either,” he said. “nowhere near it.”

That gave them less leeway to work with, more interruptions for completely unnecessary healing. They didn’t want interruptions.

“Can we compromise on kinda close to killing me?” they asked hopefully.

He leaned back and groaned. Maybe they could help convince him with desire. They ran their hands over him, stroking and admiring, and almost running into his cock several times, and they wanted him so badly…

“Please, Sans,” they whispered. “Please. Trust me. I won’t die.”

“damn it, frisk, this is so fucked up,” he said.

They so completely did not care about that. They moved against him, stroking and shifting, changing their defenses so the sensation of them would change.

He grabbed their hands and made them stop. They whimpered… what would he do with them? They writhed and undulated within his grasp and they needed so badly…

“if we’re doing something that risky, you should go ahead and fucking save,” he said, frustration clear in his voice.

It wasn’t good that he was frustrated, but he’d see, they’d be so good, it would be so good for him, and they wouldn’t die, they’d be so careful. They were grinning and bouncing as they reached over the edge. But they needed determination and focus to make save points and they had clearly not thought this through because they were a little short on real focus.

What could they focus on, that resonated with their determination? It took long seconds to stop thinking about what they’d do next.

He was going to fuck them sometime in the next little while. He would and this was a goal they were dreaming about, had been striving for for a while, and it was almost theirs. Yes. That was the fate they were committed to, that they would anchor time itself to. Oh, it was deliciously wrong to anchor a point in time to the idea of being ravaged by him, but too bad!

It was right by the bed, in easy access no matter where on it they were.

“I won’t have to reload,” they said with a grin. “And now I might not even need pie! It’ll be great, you’ll see.”

Still - they might. The save point needed concentration in a way the pie didn’t, and would probably be slower. They’d learned pretty quick how to “eat” monster food insanely fast. They hopped over to where they’d put their phone and withdrew five slices, setting them down on the floor by the bed.

“either way, it’s the first timeline,” he pointed out as they put down the last piece of pie. “we don’t actually know yet.”

They were right. He didn’t understand. He was afraid of killing them - he wasn’t afraid of them being drained for his pleasure. They would be careful, in case things ramped up unexpectedly, but they would make sure that his fear would prove false.

They knelt before him and gazed at him with determination, with lust, with their faith in their skill, with their need, and hoped he could see it all.

“Please trust me,” they said. “I’ve died so much, I really know my limits. I will be careful.”

“alright, alright,” he said. “i’ve agreed already. please don’t make me regret this.”

“I won’t,” they said happily. “Thank you.”

He just sighed.

“two things are happening next,” he said, his voice rough with need and maybe some frustration. “you’re going to show me how to pleasure you by bringing yourself as close as you can to the edge and then stopping. i want you so horny it hurts. then i’m using your mouth and getting a little relief before things continue.”

Oh, oh, he was going to torment them, and then they’d… they’d… it was really happening…

The idea of trying to suck him off, with using the trick they’d thought of, while that horny… oh fuck this would be hard…

It was going to be so hard not to cum.