Chapter Text
You had just enough presence of mind not to faceplant into the car’s horn. Instead, you rested your forehead against the top of the steering wheel. It might have been more comfortable to lean back, but you were pretty certain that if you did that, you’d end up passing out or something. The moment you’d sat down, the past few hours hit you all at once. You were tired. The kind of tired that usually only came from a long day at an amusement park, not the kind that a long shift usually produced. You would be out like a light and drooling into your steering wheel if you weren’t careful. Not a good look. Mutt would probably be along shortly. Maybe. If someone else didn’t decide to stop you from seeing him for no reason. The last thing you needed was him seeing you asleep and thinking you’d fainted or something. Or seeing you drool all over yourself.
You stayed there, hunched over and just. Thinking. What are you even supposed to do now? You had eight soul mates. That’s a lot. Most people only had one. Having even two was rare. (Although, you did hear that there’s some teenager in Japan with 100 of them. But he says he got that information from God, so how reliable could it be?) They’re all skeletons. This is… fine? You didn’t quite have an opinion on that. They seemed pretty neat. Papyrus was handsome, and Mutt had some charm, and Blue was cute. Sans and Stretch… well, they probably had something neat about them. You didn’t know anything about Edge other than that he was loud on the phone that one time. And, well, Nox was a bitch. So you’d jot that down for later. Hmm. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven… who was the last one? There was one more. He was one of the shorties, right? You hadn’t even heard his name.
You sighed, and it turned into a yawn. You wiped your hands over your face. Hell’s bells, what were you going to do with eight of these dudes? Take them on dates? You could not afford eight dates. That’s too many dates! That’s more dates than there are days in a week. Even if you went on a date every day, you’d have to leave someone out each week. You were gonna have to make a chart or a schedule or something. Get a roulette wheel.
…Were they really all yours? They were all gonna like you? You spent every single day with yourself. You weren’t a bad person, you didn’t think, but. You could be too much sometimes. You’d lost track of how many interactions you’d had where you’d said the wrong thing and had no idea what it was or why it was wrong, and you had to just watch as all the air and fun vanished from the conversation. It felt absurd to think that you’d have eight people who were just fine with that. Sometimes you were whiny or lazy or sloppy, and you didn’t know how to fix it. You had been like that your whole life. The universe couldn’t just be handing you a group of people who were okay with that. Hell, even if that wasn’t the way things would originally have gone, even if the Split hadn’t happened, you’d still have two. You just got to have that. Two whole people who would want you to be around hand-delivered to you by whatever it was that governed fate.
You took a deep breath, and then another. And another. You grounded yourself in the texture of your steering wheel, in the vaguely mango scent of your car’s slightly-too-old air freshener, and in the sound of footsteps coming toward your location. Wait. Footsteps?
You jolted up and looked around. There was Mutt looking around with wide eye sockets and looking like he’d just seen a ghost. You weren’t quite up to yelling (or moving much at all, really), but you opened your car door and leaned out a little. Mutt glanced over at you almost like an afterthought before his whole skull snapped back to look at you. He scrambled over like a dog on a tiled floor. When he flung your door open, you managed a smile. Then he just. Stood there staring at you. He was panting, which was probably something to be confused about seeing as he didn’t have lungs. You know, based on that scandalous peek at Papyrus’ ribcage.
He seemed to be waiting for something. Hmm. You held your arms up. Not like you were being arrested. Out to your sides. Like you wanted uppies. Mutt blinked at you once, twice, and then you had two arms full of skeleton. He clung to you tight. You almost thought he was going to pick you up, but instead he seemed focused on getting as close to you as he could. He was practically on top of you. Again, you maybe should have been uncomfortable at this close contact with someone who was basically a stranger, but Mutt was yours. A lot of people went straight to sex with their soul mates as soon as possible, so you thought you could be excused for an enthusiastic hug. Even from a skeleton who didn’t seem to realize he was too big to be a lapdog.
“i’m sorry.” Mutt said. It was a little mumbled because he was saying it into your shoulder. You were also a little distracted by the feel of his jaw moving against you and the odd way his chest rumbled when he spoke. “i thought boss was gonna kill you.”
You smiled even though he couldn’t see it. “He didn’t, so it’s okay.”
Mutt shook his head, smooth bone gliding over your shirt. “he could have killed you, and it woulda been because i told him about you wrong.” You turned your head to the side and pressed a light kiss to the side of his skull. He tensed up and made a little sound you would charitably call a grunt, and for a moment you thought you’d probably moved a little too fast, but then he was clinging even tighter. You were oddly content with that, even though his fingers dug into you a little. There was something satisfying about his weight on you, although he was lighter than you expected. “‘m sorry.”
Nox was a grown man who didn’t need his brother to apologize for him (and also a bitch), but you didn’t think that was what Mutt needed to hear. You took a deep breath, filling your lungs with the scent of bones and something sweet you couldn’t identify. “You shouldn’t be.” You reply. “He’s the one who introduced himself to his soulmate via attempted stabbing.”
Mutt was quiet for a few seconds. A few long seconds. Oh. Oh fuck, did you say something wrong already? You knew you shouldn’t be trusted with this whole “gaggle of soul mates” thing. Is that what a group of soul mates is called? A gaggle? Whatever. You gotta figure out how this talking thing works at some point. After a silence long enough to make you sweat, Mutt spoke up again. “you’re his soul mate too?”
No one told Mutt you were Nox’s soul mate. Oh jeez, oh no, nobody told him that and then you dropped “soul mate” and “stabbing” in the same sentence. You are terrible at this comforting thing. Try harder. “Yep.” You say in a voice approaching cheery. “Got an 8 for 2 deal.”
Mutt huffed what might have been a laugh. He started to pull back. Then he thought better of it. He squeezed you one more time. Then he actually let go. Sort of. His hands left your back, but as he pulled away they slipped up, then to your shoulders, and then slid along your arms down to fit into your hands. It was one smooth movement, not slow but still gentle. You wished you were in the mood to marvel at the feel of the oddly textured bone on your skin. Still, you were only too happy to let his hands hold yours like he was trying to keep them warm.
“how you feeling about that, darlin’?” He asked. He looked tired, you thought. He looked concerned.
You didn’t really have an answer for him. You weren’t feeling bad. And you were very happy to be his soul mate. Like right now, with him holding your hands (and in public! How lewd!) you were so happy it would probably start bursting out of your eyeballs if you weren’t careful. Could not overstate it. But a feeling about all of them? That sounded big. That sounded so, so massive. And you needed to answer him, didn’t you? You didn’t want him thinking that you didn’t want them, or that you disliked the idea. You weren’t unhappy to have him, or him, or him, or him, or his brother, or his brother, or his brother, or his brother as your soul mate! You weren’t feeling bad about it at all. But what were you feeling?
“A lot.” You answered.
Mutt stared at you for a moment, probably because you weren’t even close to making sense, but he nodded after a while. Maybe he did get it. Or maybe he just got that you got it, and that was enough for him. Either way his next move was to pull back entirely. “sure looks like you’re feelin’ a lot.” He said. “probably not a good idea to drive home like this.”
You. Huh. You had kind of forgotten about driving. You think if you were on your own right now, it would probably take you a few hours to remember that was what your car was for. It wasn’t just the soul fog getting to you, although it was disorienting how near every thought through your head was being filtered through thoughts about the monster in front of you. It was probably contributing significantly to how lightheaded you felt. Especially since Nox had gone and added another layer on top and not even stuck around to take responsibility for it, the bitch. You were also tired from fighting Nox. If you had any intention at all when you climbed into the driver’s seat, it was probably that you were going to take a nap. But now that he’d mentioned home, you were craving the reassuring feeling of your own bed something fierce.
You looked up at Mutt, and just turning your head felt a little like falling out of sync with the universe. “But I want to go home.”
Mutt seemed to expect that you were going to say that, because he was already motioning for you to move over. “scooch over then. i’ll drive you.”
And scooch you did. Or at least, you made a valiant attempt to scooch. Your bones felt like they were full of lead, and a lot of the signals you were sending to your limbs seemed to be getting lost somewhere before reaching their destination. Still, you managed to get maybe 30% of the way there before Mutt decided to help you. To your credit, he didn’t wait very long at all. To his credit, he did ask before putting his hands on you. And to your credit again, you definitely had only pure thoughts when he lifted you.
(It was probably owing to the exhaustion that you only made a mental note of how easily he moved you, instead of going into detail imagining exactly how wonderfully he might utilize that strength in another situation. You were probably going to think about it later, along with his hands and his voice and the elongated canines he had that Papyrus definitely did not, and you were going to have an extraordinarily difficult time being normal about any of it.)
He slipped you into the passenger side seat like you were something precious. Or like a bag of groceries that probably should have been split into two but you only used one bag so it might burst soon. Or just that first one. That sounded more romantic, you thought. You mustered a “thank you” strong enough to not embarrass yourself, and you buckled up all by yourself. Mutt just. Fit himself into your seat.
You were fairly certain that it should have been more of a struggle for him. He was 7 feet tall, at least. That’s an inch or two shorter than Shaq. Your car was not built to accommodate Shaqille O’Neal. This should cause some kind of issue. But in the time you looked away to grab the seatbelt buckle, Mutt had slid your seat back as far as it could go, and then somehow fit his long ass legs in, and his knees were still bent a little oddly because he didn’t quite fit into the space the way it was meant to be used, but he fit. He fit just fine. How he fit was a question for a future version of you.
You still turned your head to watch him, of course. He adjusted your mirrors to the point that you’d probably never get them just right again. He turned the key and your car took a moment, and then kicked to life. Then he looked over at you.
“Where am I taking you?”He asked.
You stared at him blankly for a moment before your brain registered the question. Then you jolted into motion like breaking out of a dream. You pulled your phone from your pocket, entered your address into google maps, and then set it on the dashboard. “Home, please.” You answered. Some part of you registered that you’d normally be concerned about telling some guy you just met where you lived, but this was your guy you just met, so it was fine. Probably. You had just been stabbed by a different one of your guys you just met, but then another one pretty thoroughly unstabbed you, and ohhh that is too much for you to be thinking about right now. Mutt wasn’t going to hurt you and probably wouldn’t steal from you without good reason. That was as far as your thoughts needed to go.
As Mutt pulled out of the parking space and then out of the lot, he didn’t say anything else. Maybe he was giving you space to gather your thoughts. But what you needed was the exact opposite of gathering your thoughts. You needed to like. Scatter them to the winds and pick them up tomorrow. You wanted to talk to him.
“We’re soul mates.” You said intelligently.
Mutt paused for a moment, glancing at you before returning his eyes to the road. “Yeah.”
“Did you… do you…” You started, then restarted, and then you couldn’t find the rest of the sentence. “What do you want that to mean?”It was sort of fascinating to watch Mutt’s chest expand as he took a long breath and then sighed. That was just a ribcage, right?
“everyone always pictures a romance, don’t they?” He answered with a shrug. “thought it’d be like that.”
You blinked. That didn’t sound enthusiastic. “Not if you don’t want it to. It could mean whatever you felt like, honestly.”
“Turn right onto Ethel Lane.” Said your phone. Mutt rolled the car to a stop at the Stop sign ahead.
He took the opportunity to look over at you fully. “i’m feeling like a romance, darlin’.” He replied. Then he followed the phone’s instructions.
“Continue on Ethel Lane for .6 miles.” Said the phone. You were grateful for the interruption, because it let you take a moment to respond before the pause was officially Too Long and it would be Awkward. It did nothing to hide the way you were sure your face had flushed. You still could read eye sockets for shit, but something in the look he’d given you was enough to get you thinking. And you were thinking in a way that would probably include how easily he’d moved you earlier, his hands, his voice and the elongated canines, and whatever other distracting features he was going to show off during this very short drive to your place.
“Yeah.” You replied, somewhat weakly. “I’d, uh. I’d like that too.”
“you sure?” He asked, a ridge of bone raising like an eyebrow. “because you seemed like you might be -”
“I want to date you!” You interjected without a second thought. You were honestly lucky that a sentence that normal was what came out of your mouth. You could have said you wanted to chew on his bones until your teeth ached and crawl inside his ribcage to live there forever and keep him somewhere safe where not even the sun would ever see him again. You didn’t. Which is good. You sure hoped that was soul-brain and not just how you were going to be about all eight of these guys. Otherwise you were going to have to find a place with a bigger basement.
“oh.” He said. “that’s good.”
“In a quarter mile, turn left onto Mingus Road.” Said your phone.
The two of you were quiet for a bit. It was embarrassing to talk like that with someone you’d just met. Wasn’t that strange? He was your Soul Mate, but you were still so nervous to say that you liked him. Your cheeks were still heated. You felt like an idiot. You turned your head to look out the passenger side window like you were interested in the sight of a neighborhood you’d lived in for years. Mutt at least had the excuse of watching where he was going to explain why he was looking away from you. He wasn’t exactly laser focused though. When you turned back to look at him and found a blush on his cheekbones matching your own, he obviously noticed. You knew because it only grew more vivid.
“Turn left onto Mingus Road.” Said your phone. Mutt did. “Continue on Mingus Road for .4 miles.”
Mutt cleared a throat he didn’t have. “you want that with the others?”
Oh, whoops. Were you trying to get your thoughts together about the (Gaggle? Herd? School? Pack? Pod? Group. That one works.) group of soul mates you were going to meet and bond with and love and pester until either you were in the dirt or they were dust? You probably should have picked a topic other than soul mates to talk to your new soul mate about. Task failed. No retries.
You can’t read every expression Mutt makes, and the one he wore then especially was a mystery to you. You couldn’t get any emotion, positive or negative, out of it. He was probably doing it on purpose, forcing you to choose based on what you wanted and not what he might want to hear. Still, you didn’t have to think about it all. You already knew the answer. You just needed to put the words in the right order.
“I don’t know the others yet.” You replied. It wasn’t quite avoiding the question. “I like romance. I like thinking about it, but I’ve never really had it before.” That wasn’t quite an answer either, but you were getting close. “So I can’t say for sure that I’ll want to date everyone. But you guys seem pretty easy to fall in love with.” Getting closer. “I guess that’s a yes until proven no.”
The GPS nearly covered up the sound of Mutt’s snort, but you heard it anyway. “In a quarter mile, turn left onto Mulholland Drive.” It said. You smiled.
“I don’t know if that’s the right answer.” You admitted. You didn’t know Mutt well enough to know if he’d be possessive or eager to share you or somewhere in the middle.
“wasn’t a right or wrong answer to it.” He replied. He sounded honest, you thought. “ain’t a job interview.”
“Turn left on Mulholland Drive.” Said the phone. “In 500 feet, your destination will be on your left.”
Mulholland Drive was nothing but two-story town homes. Each unit was painted in different colors following a color scheme you could only describe as “not quite Roy G. Biv” or “probably afraid of gay people”. They had no front yards to speak of, and no drive ways - only sidewalks leading to street parking. Each one had a landing in front of the front door that could charitably be called a porch. Your unit was the red one on the end, with the only things on the porch being the welcome mat and the chair that came with the unit.
Mutt parked your car in the same spot you did every day, but you froze before getting out of the car. There was a dog on your porch. To be clear, you weren’t afraid of dogs, and the dog on the porch didn’t look unfriendly at all. There was just something about it that made you pause. It looked like a Samoyed, big and fluffy with a perfectly white coat of fur. And it was simply sitting there in front of the door. Just. Panting, with a big old tongue hanging down and its lips looking almost like a smile. It was, as far as you could tell, a dog. Not one you knew, but a dog nonetheless.
“shit.” Mutt swore over your shoulder. You jumped at the sound of his voice much closer than you expected. When you turned to look at him, he had leaned down into your space in order to look out the window. If he’d been human, you would have felt the heat coming off his body at that distance.
You had the feeling that he wasn’t simply worried about being chased down for his bones. “What’s wrong? Do you know him?”
Mutt pointed to the canine currently occupying your porch. “that’s a cop.”
You looked from him to the dog, which literally just looked like a dog, and back. “That’s a cop?”
“he’s part of the guard," Mutt told you. "so basically yes.”
“Bwoof.” Said the dog cop, perfectly business-like. It reverberated through your car like passing someone who was blasting their radio. Then the dog went back to panting.
“yeah, alright.” Mutt replied to the dog. “we’re getting out of the car.”