Crumbling House of Cards

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He couldn't believe he'd ever agreed to this.

"Kid, be careful," he reprimanded Frisk for the fifth time, grabbing the back of their shirt to keep them from falling off the step ladder.

The two were in charge of decorations, which meant putting up the banners, blowing up the balloons--sometimes literally, just for the shits and giggles. The kid liked it, so Sans didn't mind the lectures he got from the Queen and his brother after the fact. They also had all of these streamers and ribbons they had to put up that made the skeleton want to throw up his nonexistent guts.

Why had he agreed to this?

Frisk finished tying the banner that read "Here's to One Year on the Surface" up at the front of the living room, turning to the skeleton to give him a thumbs up. 'Finished,' they signed.

"Thank Christ." At the look he was given, Sans shrugged. "Hey, don't get me all tongue-tied, kid. I'm just..." He hesitated. For once, he couldn't think of a pun. "...I'm tired."

'Break?'

"Now we're talkin'." Sans snorted, stretching. His spine popped as he did, Frisk shuddering at the sound. Sans chuckled at their reaction. "Sorry, kiddo. Gotta get it out, though--it's uncomfortable."

'Gross,' Frisk responded, sticking their tongue out at the skeleton and shaking their head.

He laughed. "You're gross. I mean, look at ya, with all that skin and muscle. Ew."

'Better than being spineless.' Frisk couldn't fight back their grin.

Sans chuckled. "Oh God, Tori's rubbin' off on you," he said. "Or maybe I am."

'Both.'

"Good."

Sans flopped down on the couch, oblivious to the party-favors he'd almost crushed. Boss monster really went all-out when it came to parties, he was starting to learn. "Man, I'm exhausted...wonder if now would be a good time to take a nap."

"Don't you dare, lazybones," he could hear from the kitchen, Toriel peeking out from around the corner to shoot him a glare, though playful in nature. "There's still a lot to do and we can't afford any slackers!"

"It'll be a quick one," he lied, and everyone present knew he was. Frisk especially gave him their best attempt of the Look, which made him a bit uneasy due to the strong resemblance it had to his brother's iteration, "Like a catnap..."

"A cat can sleep the day away and call it a 'catnap'."

"Sounds like a good excuse to me."

"Sans!" Toriel shook her head, chuckling. "You can't sit there and tell me you're a cat."

"Meow."

"Sans!"

The skeleton chuckled. "Alright, alright," he held up his hands, "I'll get up."

"Good!"

"In a few minutes."

Toriel sighed and shook her head again, but fell silent and returned to her baking. Probably one of her pies, from the smell of it.

Sans checked the time as Frisk settled down next to him, the child humming a familiar tune to themselves. Only an hour left, he sighed, leaning back. Heh...might as well catch some sleep while I still can.

And, after the thought crossed his mind, he blacked out.

***

"H-Hey, Papyrus?"

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