Save Point (Sans x Reader)

Chapter Thirty-Eight, Part Two

The cool breeze of a fast-approaching autumn shakes the palm trees and drives out a shiver down your body. Brisk, salty air reaches your lungs when you breathe in, the scent serving as a soother for your mind. Empty surroundings with the exception of the two stray dogs sleeping by the shore, you’re given privacy to spend time with Sans without having to worry about being scrutinized by others. Sitting down by the sand, you let him rest his head on your lap and begin tracing your fingers across his face, slowly outlining his features by starting from top to bottom. You begin from his forehead and continue going downwards, laughing when he sneezes after you brush with his nose cavity. 

“Didn’t know you could sneeze,” you comment, smiling down at him. “What else don’t I know about you yet?”

“Try to reach for my irises,” he replies, taking hold of your wrist. Carefully, he brings your hand towards his left eye socket and waits for you to do as suggested.

You bring your fingers close to his irises, flinching back after you see the white light falter when you get closer. Sans encourages you to continue, grin widening at the sides when he sees you frowning, doubt preventing you from doing as he said. “Okay, but. . . Tell me if it bothers you, alright?”

He closes his right socket and keeps the other one open, still waiting for you to finish with what you planned to do. “Alright.”

Determined, you close the distance and come in contact with the light, shock passing through you when you feel warmth under your fingers. The glow stays and gives the illusion of it piercing your skin, the view similar to catching a lightning bug and trapping it by closing your fist. Having Sans this close was inexplicably ethereal to you. He was letting you go as far as to explore his differences -- what made him a monster and you a human -- through means of physical contact. Your heart begins to race when you pull back and see his iris still there, unhurt by your touch. Your eyes trail down to his teeth, a new wish crossing your thoughts.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Go ahead, pal.”

A shaky breath exits your mouth, anticipation making it hard for you to do what you wanted regardless of asking beforehand. Mulling over your next choice, you swallow your tension, breathe, and press your lips against his teeth, closing your eyes in accordance to your actions. Mind adrift, you flinch when feeling his hands slide behind your head, fingers passing through your hair. The moment lasts for what it feels like minutes, the only other sound present being of the waves crashing into the shore. You’re made to let go when you hear talking from a distance, voices and conversations muffled by the sounds of the ocean.

Eyes opening, you pull back whereas Sans untangles his fingers from your hair and sits up straight in the sand. The once empty beach is now habited by other people, most of them keeping away from the shore. Children are kept at bay by their parents, an elderly man stares, and a police officer discusses unintelligible topics with him. With the varied looks you’re given and the caution they all maintained, it was unnecessary for you to question what they were thinking. You stand up from the sand and wait for Sans to do the same. 

The night makes it harder for you to see people’s faces, but you can tell the officer's getting closer. He only goes as far as a few steps, keeping more than twenty feet of distance between you. “I'm afraid you’re not allowed to be here,” he mentions, hand reaching for the defense equipment set beside his waist. “Please leave immediately if you want to avoid conflict.”