Save Point (Sans x Reader)

Chapter Fifteen

Updates have now been changed to Fridays, Saturdays, and Mondays! As mentioned before, this means the story will update 3 times a week instead of 2 here on. :-)

(Note that this is until I catch up with the story's progress on my main publishing site.)

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Third Person POV

Sans's Perspective

He stops eyeing the child’s paper at the sound of an older human calling out his name. His irises look up to see (Y/N) standing by the open door, Faust now standing next to them and eagerly tugging at the corner of their shirt, encouraging them to step inside.

“Relax and c’mon in,” he speaks, catching onto their uncertainty. “I won’t bite.”

“Kinda hard to do after what I said to you through that phone call a few days ago.”

Sans lets out a chuckle at that remark. He shakes his head and gestures for them to sit down on the chair set closest to his work desk. Not long after, he notices them hesitate once more when stepping in -- quite like that of a child afraid of plugging in a device after being shocked by the power outlet firsthand. He decides not to comment on that for the moment being, ignoring the urge to tease them for their hesitant nature.

“Thank you. . . for still choosing to tutor him even after what happened. And I’m really sorry for how this ended. I. . . I didn't think a compromise with Faust’s other parent would lead to this,” (Y/N) speaks up, their earnest tone failing to mask the blunt tiredness behind their voice. He notices bags forming under their eyes again, not to mention they took up the offer to sit down almost too quickly. The faint smell of baked good catches his nose cavity when the human shifts in their seat, and it isn’t until then that he notices something unusual about their appearance -- more specifically, their face.

They had flour in their hair, actual dusts of the ingredient stuck to their hair’s left sideline. He stifles the urge to let his smile widen, already imagining a scenario where they would freak out the second he mentioned that missed detail. He imagined how they would vex over that -- how they would think back on the number of people that saw them like that prior to arriving at the school.

“Should I take Faust with me now? I don’t wanna keep you if you’re busy.”

He almost jumps at the sound of their voice and focuses his eyesight again to see (Y/N) facing their lap, looking apologetically at their palms. They squeeze them into fists and sigh, looking up to meet with him again.

“I’m not busy right now,” he corrects, awareness falling upon him like a bucket of ice cold water. He’d been staring far too long at the human, and they had obviously come up with the worst case scenario as to why he wasn’t responding to them -- when in reality he’d spaced out completely, staring at the specks of flour decorating their (h/c), (h/l) locks of hair. “You, uh, just have some flour stuck in your hair.”

“Oh,” they mutter, posture stiffening at his comment. “Where?”

The skeleton directs them to where the stains are, chuckling when they’re unable to locate the last spot left to dust out. Wanting to lend a hand, he leans over his desk and reaches out for (Y/N)’s hair, excusing himself before getting to touch it. The close view of their face makes it all the more clear that they weren’t getting enough sleep at home, though he still refuses to make a comment on anything personal. He was more than aware by now that there was still the line of teacher and parent between him and them, one that kept him from approaching them any closer than he had the day Frisk and Faust decided to set up a day to hang out together.

“Thanks,” (Y/N) speaks up again, the suddenness and informality of that one word response only adding to his desire of teasing them for how nervous they seemed to be. “Are you. . . okay with this for real, then? I know I talked with you on the phone about this, but I wanted to make sure you were being honest by coming to see you in person.”

“I am,” he replies, leaning back on his seat. “It ain’t the first time somethin’ like this happens, if I'm gonna be honest, but it is the first time I’ve had someone worry so much about how I feel.”

“I just feel like have to. You and this whole school have been. . . pretty good changes, to say the least,” the human explains, words sounding distant despite having them sitting right next to his work desk. He observes the expression on (Y/N)’s face as they contemplate on their own, intrigued by the way their eyebrows furrowed the more they waited to say what they had in mind. “Faust’s opened up to me a lot since the day you talked with him. . . I-- It made me realize I could be a bit more open with how I feel every now and then.”

“So whaddya feel right now?”

“I. . .” They sigh again, placing their hands on their knees as they grip both tight. “I feel like this experience -- the whole moving to a new place, choosing a new school, and working on a new job. . . It feels like the right thing to do right now. The town I used to live in wasn’t any good for us, but here. . . I’m really starting to feel at home here.”

“Then keep doin’ just that,” Sans suggests, waiting a few seconds before adding else to his comment. “And if it doesn’t work out, you can try again. I’m sure you can do it if you stay true to what you want in life.”

He jolts at the sound of them letting out a laugh, one he would grow annoyed at if it had come off as mocking. Instead, the tone was warm and genuine, as so was the look on (Y/N)’s face.

“What’s got ya laughing?” he asks, looking to prod gently at them now that they’d chosen to do the same.

“Nothing,” they dismiss, a stray laugh hiccuping from their throat -- one that they covered by grinning. “That was really sweet of you, is all. Haven’t heard advice like that in years. . . Since high school ended, if I’m gonna be exact.”

“Are ya still in college?”

“I left when I got my Bachelor’s half a year ago -- started it at eighteen and finished four years later. Kind of a waste, considering I quit the job at the police department barely a year into it, but. . . I was lucky to find a job at the bakery a few blocks from here.”

“Is that the one Muffet’s still tryin’ to sue?”

“Precisely,” the human replies, snickering. “It’s still kind of nice, though. . . Really makes things interesting every now and then.”

Sans catches himself on a comfortable, back-and-forth conversation as he readies himself to speak up again. How he managed to keep this friendship going with (Y/N) was still a mystery to him. He didn’t have to be at Grillby’s or crack jokes all that often to gain the human’s attention, a change of pace he appreciated just as much as the feeling of falling asleep without having to aimlessly toss and turn in bed for an hour.