When Sans got back to his room after his chat with Papyrus, he saw a message on his phone that he’d missed.
Frisk: Hey, I was talking to Toriel, and a random thing kind of came up. We were sort of wondering how old you are?
Very random, he was sure. Especially considering the other text message he’d missed.
Toriel: Hello Sans. I hope you are doing well today.
Toriel: I would like to invite you to come over tomorrow. I was hoping that we might discuss a few things, if you have time.
Yeah.
He sighed and flopped onto the bed. Both messages had been sent close to an hour ago, so it wasn’t a big deal if he took a little time to think first.
He wasn’t sure what Frisk had told Toriel, but it might not have been anything at all - Frisk was really easy to read, and if they’d been discussing him, he could absolutely see why Toriel would be concerned. Even if - or perhaps, especially if - Frisk had been refusing to answer. So this made sense, whether or not Frisk said a word.
Not that he’d made it clear what his preference was, regarding them answering questions. He was confident that they wouldn’t reveal details of his past, or particularly private things they’d picked up, such as from his soul, but beyond that… he was fine leaving it to their judgment.
In the meantime…
Toriel’s conversation should be short and to the point, while Frisk’s might be distracting, so he started with Toriel’s.
Sans: ya sure i can come over tomorrow. i gotta thing at 4 so anytime before then is good
Toriel: That is good to hear. Perhaps at one in the afternoon?
Sans: sure. ill let ya know when im heading over
Toriel: Thank you. I look forward to seeing you.
That was a bit more formal sounding than her usual. No emoticons, no silliness… geh, it was going to be an annoying conversation tomorrow, wasn’t it? He sighed and swapped to Frisk’s message.
Sans: u cant prove anything
Frisk: ???
Sans: if u dont know my age, u cant prove that ur younger than half my age plus seven
Frisk: ??? What are you talking about?
Sans: really? u havnt seen that thing online, where an age gap is considered creepy if someones with someone less than half their age plus seven?
Frisk: No I haven’t. Wait. That means you’re at least 26 years old. Or 28, if you count the extra year in the timeloops making me 21 now.
Sans: which u cant prove
Frisk: I have both Papyrus’s number *and* Flowey’s number. I’m pretty sure I can get that information.
Sans: u would have me betrayed by my own brother
Sans: or by someone who dragged secrets out of my brother
Sans: that is terrible
Sans: how could u
Frisk: haha
Frisk: If you really don’t want me to know, I won’t press, or ask them. But I’m pretty sure you’re just messing around.
Sans: nah its fine. and u can tell tori even tho its awkward. im 33
Frisk: dirty old man ;)
Sans: hey
Sans: i was a perfect gentleman
Frisk: Do “perfect gentlemen” pin their helpless victims against the wall with gravity magic and edge them till they sob and beg for mercy?
Heh heh heh. That was a fun memory. Despite his attempts at self control, his breathing was growing unsteady as he texted them back. Also, the fact that they referred to themself as helpless was hilarious to him.
Sans: absolutely. that is exactly what a proper gentleman should do
Frisk: I agree. It was terribly wrong of me to accuse you of not being a gentleman.
Frisk: I’m willing to be punished for my wretched accusation. One option is for you to remind me of what a proper gentleman you are.
A rush of desire ran through him and he tried to shove it away.
Sans: seems like ur feeling FRISK-y
Frisk: omg no sans. No. Just… omg.
He outright cackled at that response. They even messed up their capitalization of his name!
Sans: oh well guess i was wrong. so what r u up to then?
Frisk: OMG Sans
He could practically feel the blush and the glare from here and he grinned.
Frisk: uh
Frisk: I don’t want to do anything bad or make things difficult for you.
Sans: oh?
Frisk: I mean, teasing a bit about what we’ve done seems fine, though I maybe went a little far, but I know you haven’t had time to decide what you want to do.
Frisk: And, before, I’d have hidden the sexual stuff.
Frisk: So if you ask an otherwise innocent question where the answer is sexual… I’m not sure what I should do. I don’t want to tempt you if you want to avoid that, but I also… I mean. You know what I want.
He slowly exhaled. Frisk was trying to do the wise thing, the safe thing, the sane thing. They were being honest and clear. They were giving him an out… one that he would be very wise to take.
He should avoid temptations, at least for now, at least until he’d decided things.
But…
But he didn’t want to.
Sans: go ahead and answer me honestly
Frisk: I’m having trouble, actually. I’ve been trying to masturbate and it’s just so empty by comparison. I could probably cum if I really tried, but it’s just so unsatisfying that I keep giving up and soaking in the memories instead.
His grip tightened on the phone. He didn’t make any conscious decision, but somehow or another, he found himself asking a question.
Sans: so ur just in ur room, alone, remembering things and touching urself?
Frisk: Yes.
Another slow breath. He closed his eyes and felt space around himself. He could reach out to their room so easily…
Sans: outta random curiosity
Sans: did u save when u got home?
Frisk: No. Do you want me to?
Their last save point was in that moment, earlier today. If they reloaded, he’d lose the conversation with Papyrus. They would fall on him, cumming. Again. And he would find himself caught in that cycle of pleasure.
Saving right now prevented that problem. It was a good thing to do, right? It wasn’t just because he was thinking of having a fallback in case he started to fall to temptations in this part of the timeline?
Sans: ya. seems smart. u never know what might happen, right?
Frisk didn’t respond for a minute. Sans tried to wrangle his thoughts, but they spiralled around the agonizingly intense memories.
Frisk: I saved. Um. I’m not sure if I should mention something…
Sans: tell me
Frisk: Just in case, I edged myself a little before saving.
He closed his eyes and leaned against the wall. Right now, Frisk was touching themself, wanting and hoping for him to teleport over and have his way with them. Afraid to ask, because they didn’t want to push him.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
He took a breath. It was probably the right thing to do to tell them to cum. To try to beat out his own lust a bit. To then use the clearheadedness to think about what he wanted to do.
But damn it, he wanted to feel them again.
And if he was honest with himself… there was no way that he wouldn’t eventually fall to the temptation. He would have a moment of weakness, no matter what he decided. What was the point of resisting, when it was inevitable?
More shaky breaths followed.
He didn’t want it to be inevitable. It should be his choice, damn it all.
Frisk: Er. Sorry if I shouldn’t have.
Right, it’d been a minute and he hadn’t responded. He had to say something. He stared at his phone but the only things he could think of to say were… him deciding things. He couldn’t bring himself to commit, either way.
Seconds passed. He knew that Frisk would be feeling increasingly anxious. He needed to say something, damn it.
Frisk: Sans?
Another moment passed, with him uselessly staring at the phone and fighting with his mind.
Frisk: I’m sorry. Don’t worry about anything. I’m okay. I’ll try to get to sleep.
He still couldn’t say anything. He didn’t want them to worry that they’d upset him. Maybe… maybe he could go to them in person and maybe he’d find a way to let them know.
He wanted to be there so badly that the teleport was practically effortless, as though a part of him had already locked onto their room and was just waiting for him to stop resisting.
It was just like the day before, when he was in this room. Standing there, in front of their bed, seeing them in the shadows as they stared at him with wild-eyed need.
Only this time, they didn’t have any orders that would stop them. Either of them.
“Sans?” they asked, surprised and breathless.
He still couldn’t speak, he discovered.
They sat up and the blanket fell from them, revealing the soft curves of their breasts in the light coming from their window. Another shaky breath pulled from him.
It was his choice. It had to be his choice, he wasn’t an addict, there was no way he could be addicted to…
The sound of Frisk screaming as they begged him for release, and then as he pounded them, feeling their tight heat around him, driving them to their limits as they fell limp on his body, even as their pussy continued to spasm and squeeze his dick.
His breathing seemed to be growing steadier as he gazed at them, as though some part of him were relaxing. Falling into the moment.
Giving in.
Frisk stood up, giving him a concerned look. Their shyness had faded away, presumably from the many hours they had fucked earlier. They stood before him, utterly naked and unashamed.
Entirely at his mercy.
“Are you okay?” they asked.
Nope, he found that he still couldn’t speak. The part of his mind that handled thinking and speaking was still tangled up, even if the rest of him seemed to have come to a decision. His hand rose and put a finger on their lips, silencing them.
Their breath caught. They began to tremble as he traced his hand over their jaw.
“Please,” they whispered so faintly that he could barely hear it, but the trembling whimper in their voice was too much.
No decision had been made, and yet somehow he found himself pinning them down on the bed, his shorts pulled out of the way, and driving himself inside. They cried out sharply in pleasure and he groaned.
“Oh god, Sans…” Frisk moaned as he sank into them again and again.
It was everything it should be. Their heat, tightness, and vitality welcomed him like coming home.
“Frisk, are you alright?” Toriel’s voice called out, and Frisk cut off with a strangled noise.
But Sans didn’t slow down.
“whoops,” he said. “i guess we’ll have to reset, won’t we? so don’t hold back.”
Even in the shadows, he could see how thick the red color was on their cheeks from that.
“I’m fine!” Frisk called out. “Don’t come in!”
He reached up and pinched their nipple hard. They squeaked a little.
“louder,” he said.
“Sans… she’s… she can hear us,” Frisk whimpered.
“wonder what she’s gonna think when i make you scream,” he said, and Frisk gasped. “if you deny me now, i’ll just have to edge you next loop until i get what i want.”
“Oh god…” Frisk said and let out a half strangled moan as his words set off their orgasm.
It felt so good, he could have joined them. But he could hold back for a time yet. Besides, the red face, squirming, and squeaky noises of embarrassment were fantastic.
“Frisk?” Toriel asked, from right outside the door.
“Everything’s f-fine!” Frisk said, stuttering a little as Sans thrust a little harder for no particular reason.
Man that glare was hilarious. He grinned at them.
Why had he tried to resist this? Every thrust, sliding into that tight pussy, feeling the heat and texture on his dick, their strength pouring into and invigorating him…
The pleasure was building and he looked forward to cumming, and then fixing this little mistake of a timeline.
But making Frisk lose their mind in embarrassment was too much fun. Since it didn’t seem like a regular orgasm would make them scream, he summoned a small swarm of ethereal bones.
“Sans…” Frisk moaned out. “You can’t…”
“don’t you remember?” he asked with a dark grin. “i can do anything i want to you.”
Even though they’d just cum hardly thirty seconds ago, that nearly set them off again and he laughed. Perhaps a little loudly.
He heard a sound through the door - a gasp of recognition, maybe? But Toriel didn’t speak. And he was trying not to think about her, or about any hypocrisy issues from resetting the timeline - the two had made a mistake, and needed to fix it, that was all. And that meant that nothing they did had any consequences.
All that mattered was how good Frisk felt, especially when they were cumming on his dick, and how much he enjoyed their embarrassment.
With a little bit of help from a well-timed bone swarm, he did get them to cum loudly before killing them and trying again. It took two more tries before they managed to avoid getting Toriel’s attention and he collapsed happily beside Frisk on their bed.
Which was when the post-orgasm clarity hit.
He groaned - quietly, still - into Frisk’s shoulder.
“What’s wrong?” they asked.
Apparently he could speak just fine when he was falling to temptations. Or when he was so overwhelmed by intimacy that he just freely said things to Frisk he could barely imagine saying, otherwise. Didn't think he'd have any trouble coming up with words if he decided to blow them off, either.
He was silent for a moment while he struggled. Frisk gently stroked at his chest again, like they had earlier.
“Whatever it is, I’m here for you,” they whispered.
Maybe the problem was simply that he was fighting. Maybe instead of trying to say things, trying to figure out what to say, he could just… speak. And if it was wrong, or sappy, or stupid, or conflicted, or whatever, he could just trust Frisk that it’d be okay anyway.
He hugged them close.
That’s not how he did things. But, well. Between his mind-wrenching perspective changes earlier, and his conversation with Papyrus, maybe he needed to try to let go of that a little. Or a lot, but ha, that wasn’t happening anytime soon.
“i didn’t mean to do all that,” he said. “i wanted to… make a decision, to think things through. i’d just talked to papyrus, i hadn’t chosen anything.”
Frisk flinched a little.
“Did I do the wrong thing…?” they asked. “I didn’t want to make things difficult for you.”
“no, frisk,” he said. “you did exactly right. teasing and messing around - i never want you to feel like you can’t joke around with me. and then you did try to make sure you weren’t saying too much. you were…”
He sighed.
“you’re stronger than me, but i guess we already knew that, didn’t we?” he asked with a dark laugh.
“No, Sans, I… It’s just that I’m messed up in the head, that’s all, I’m not…” they said, trailing off.
“i appreciate you trying to salve my ego, but on the other hand…” he said and flicked their forehead.
They giggled a little.
“i know when i’m beat,” he said, and a flash of pain went through their eyes. “what was that look about?”
He had his guesses, but he would rather ask, so he did. They looked down.
“You knew, from before the first time I approached you in the hall, that I’d won,” they said softly, and he nodded. “That your only hope was to make me give up.”
“yeah,” he said. “i guess i gotta face facts here, too. doesn’t matter if i think it’s right or wrong, if it’s what i should do, if it’s even what i want, in a bigger picture sort of way.”
He hugged them close.
“i don’t have any choice but to accept you,” he said. “to accept everything. i can only hope it’s right, hope that it proves to be something i can live with, because… well.”
He flashed them a shaky grin. The look they gave him was rich and torn, conflicted and joyful.
“guess what i'm saying is... i'm all in. no more trying to resist the inevitable. just us, figuring things out together.”
“I… I’m not sure… it doesn’t seem like you sound happy about that?” they asked tentatively.
He squeezed them tightly to his chest.
“i’m afraid,” he murmured, and recoiled a little from his own words.
What the hell was he saying? Maybe this whole “stop trying to figure out what to say and just speak” thing was stupid…
Frisk, on the other hand, did not seem conflicted. They inhaled sharply, hugged him back, and then gave him a determined look.
“I don’t want you to be afraid,” they said.
“me, neither,” he said with a wry laugh.
But now that he’d said it, named it… he was afraid, wasn’t he? Afraid of looking back at this time in his life, and seeing that he’d destroyed something precious. Destroyed Frisk, and ruined their life by letting them get tangled in his.
And worse, to have done so without properly thinking through his decision, but simply because sex with them felt too good to resist. Not just the sex, but… everything. The intimacy, the connection, the feeling of being loved and accepted. He didn’t want to let them go… he never wanted to let them go.
He swallowed. Papyrus had made a really damned good point. He knew what was right. Sans didn’t want to say it… god, he didn’t want to say this, and it probably didn’t even mean anything, but he was afraid if he refused, he might…
Well. If he couldn’t say it now, when there was no chance Frisk would go, then maybe he never would. And he would prove to be something that he despised.
“there’s… there’s something i have to say,” he managed, his voice rough and hoarse. “i know you’re bound to me. i know you don’t want to go. but. but look. things might change. it’s important, it’s critical, that you understand - if things change and you start to feel like you want to belong to yourself again…”
Knives were stabbing through his gut. This was ridiculous. They weren’t going anywhere, he knew that. The look on their face told him as much, as clearly as if they were giving him a heartfelt oath.
“you have to let me know. i… god, frisk, i don’t want you to go, but you have to know that you don’t really belong to me. i’m going to act like you do, because apparently i can’t fight this, but…”
He cut off, and they squeezed him tightly.
“I’m yours forever, Sans,” they murmured.
“you’re only twenty. or twenty one, whatever,” he said. “you can’t know that, not for real.”
“Maybe not,” Frisk said. “But can anyone, really? I know that right now, I want to be yours forever and I won’t hesitate to commit to that.”
“that may change,” Sans said. “i don’t… i don’t want you to be trapped by me, frisk. you deserve better than… than any of this.”
“People keep saying that,” Frisk said. “That I deserve better. But, even aside from what I ‘deserve’ - you’d think it’d be considered a positive thing, not a negative, to get everything I want, and this is what I want. This isn’t some awful fate I’m resigned to because I think I’m the worst or anything. I’m fighting to fulfill my greatest desire.”
A twisted perspective, like how they viewed their devotion, how they viewed pain, how they viewed being used. Alien as it was to him… he’d seen their soul. How was it his place to say they were wrong about what they wanted?
“And you’d never trap me with you,” Frisk said, sounding far more confident than he was on that subject. “Of course if I wanted to leave, you’d let me go.”
Ripping, tearing uncertainty. He would let them go. He would do whatever it took to make sure he’d do the right thing. His grip on them tightened anyway.
“And as far as it changing?” Frisk asked. “I don’t want to change. Isn’t that the best anyone can do, though? To commit to forever, heart and soul, and fight to stay the course, come what may?”
“that’s the problem,” Sans said. “i don’t want you to fight to stay this way.”
That was an outright lie. But it’s what he thought a better version of him would want, anyway.
“You care about what I want, though, right?” Frisk asked and he managed to nod. “I do want to be this way, to stay this way, and to fight to remain so. I want, with all of my heart, to be yours.”
They met his gaze and he burned within it.
“Forever,” they said, and it sounded like an oath.
He was being ripped in two. It hurt like hell and he was probably gripping them way too tightly. Well, if they were anyone but Frisk, anyway.
On one hand… his selfish desires. If he stopped fighting all his impulses.
He’d take Frisk as his own, and encourage them to be happy within their devotion, encourage them to stay this way, to be always his. Make sure all their needs were met, emotionally and otherwise, with the aim that they would never be tempted to look at any other path. To worship him, love him, and serve him forever. To love them back, in his screwed up way, and to always trust in them.
To take their power for his own personal use and pleasure. To discard everything he’d ever said about restraint with the timelines, and just abuse their power as much as he liked - to test things, to learn things, to have fun, to have time to think, for random whims.
On the other… his better judgment.
To work towards healing and growth, for himself and Frisk both. To face things with Papyrus, and let him know the truth of everything. To restrain himself to the sorts of entertainments that didn’t have moral problems. To remain cautious and careful, whether with timelines or people.
To maybe figure out his problems better so he even knew what his better judgment should be. So maybe to try to talk seriously with others, to lean on them and figure things out together?
Ugh.
And some things that… maybe weren’t so easy to categorize. The desire to keep people at arm’s length, to keep things simple and uncomplicated. The desire to shove Frisk away, because of how much this hurt. Not like that was an option… the idea of losing them hurt even worse.
This was all such a goddamned mess.
His arms relaxed a little as he held them.
He was tired of fighting. Tired of feeling alone. Tired of trying so hard to do the right thing when he didn’t even know what that was.
Maybe giving up was the wrong thing. On some level, it was - he should try to do better, to be better. Even if he didn’t know what “better” meant, he shouldn’t stop trying. But this evening had clearly shown he wasn’t strong enough to succeed, so maybe he should just give up, trust Frisk, and hope things work out.
Well. Not “should.” He knew it wasn’t what he should do. And yet…
“alright then,” he said, relaxing further, with a strange feeling of both loss and relief. “i accept your choice, frisk. until you decide otherwise… you are mine.”
As expected, they let out a sound of joy and fulfillment as they nuzzled into his chest.
It was a sweet silence that they rested in together, for a time. And when the memories started to grow compelling, Sans whisked them away for privacy, taking Frisk without hesitation or second guessing.
Frisk slept in his arms that night. The next morning, he stole away back to his room and went about his business, his heart oddly bruised and yet light.
Apparently this was his life now. Terrifying, hopeful, sweet, aching, morally questionable…
And so good.