Fairytale Complex - [Sans x Reader]

Chapter Eight | Dating Start! (Part 2 of 3)

"Can I see your hand for a moment?"

The question's immediate, guilt pushing you to blurt it out the second you step foot out of Snowdin. Even so, he doesn't rush in giving you an answer and, rather, looks at you like you've asked the most absurd question of the century. "C'mon, pal," he says, sneering. "Don't tell me you're still worked up about this?"

Beyond pissed he's brushed it off so easily while you're still stressing your years out over it, you huff and hold back the urge to glare at him. "Yes, I am. Now can you show it to me, please?"

"Alright."

Sans gives in with a grin and takes off his gloves. Then, he shows you the hand you'd hit to reveal there's a reddish mark visible on it despite him being made out of bones. "See what I mean? Your hand's got a bruise on it!" You frown at the sight and take his hand, using your thumb to rub at the injury. "Does it hurt? I figured you could still bruise… But just, not like this."

"I'll be fine," he says, pulling his hand back. "That's probably just frostbite or somethin'." He walks with you to the nearby river and sits down next to it, letting his legs drape over the edge and shoes barely graze the surface of the water. "It'll fade after a while."

"At least let me try to do something," you say, persistent. You sit next to him and look at his hand again, now resting on one of the many puddles surrounding the floor. True to his word, the mark starts to fade with the help of the lukewarm water, though only slightly and -- when compared to his other hand -- it's clear as day the mark that's left is a result of you swatting his hand away earlier. "Give me your hand."

"In marriage?"

You bite back a smile, caught off guard more than you would like to admit. "Are you that set on teasing me like this from now on?" you retort, maintaining a stern look throughout. "I thought you said you weren't interested in this kind of stuff?"

"Yeah, but flirting's different."

"So now you admit you're flirting with me?"

"You're not gonna give this a rest, aren't ya?"

"Not unless you show me your hand again."

"Fine." He chuckles, offering his hand out to you. "Go ahead."

You take his hand -- left bare now that he's not wearing gloves anymore -- and place it over your thigh as a makeshift table. Then, you take a first aid kit from your backpack and retrieve a few items from it. "Stay still," you say, facing his hand. "I'm not sure if human-made medicine works the same with monsters, but…" You disinfect the wound, rub some cooling gel over the burn mark, and stick a waterproof bandage on it after, all while ignoring how tense his hand gets until you're finished with the process. 

"Nervous?" you ask, grinning. "Your hand's all stiff now."

"I thought you said you would give your own teasin' a rest?"

"It's not teasing if it's the truth."

The conversation's ended on that when his phone starts to ring.

He stands up, reaches out for it and -- though he tries his best not to let it show -- it's made more than obvious he doesn't want you to see who the caller is by how awkward his body language gets. His irises jump from the phone and a nearby spot for him to possibly answer the call without any interruptions, to your face and the hand you healed up. A conflict seems to settle itself out in his mind when he decides to take the call right where he is, though still without revealing who the person is.

"Hello?"

The voice on the other side booms with a "Have you done it yet?", impatience present in their voice. It's a familiar sounding one, though you don't want to jump to conclusions yet with how bizarre the possibility is.