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Grillby’s is very cozy-looking.
That’s the first thing Sans notices about the small brick building. He’s - he’s heard a bit of buzz about the bar, from some of the residents of Snowdin.
And it’s his and Papyrus' first night in the small town, and he can’t really cook for shit, and his mind’s still reeling a little from everything that’s just happened - with, with Hotland, the Core, G̸̨̜̯͉̳̱̝̺̼̈́̆̂͗̌͘͜ā̵̭̥̠͊̋͛̓̎̇̕̕ͅs̵̡̧̙̳͚̜̰̻̦̻̜̒̔͋͝͠ṱ̸͉͌ę̵̮̲̹̩̣͓͎̔̍͐͜ȑ̴̤̟͕͚̝̥̲͓̤̺́̿̎̓̇̊̏͜͜͜͝ -
Sans needs a small break. Just one night, he - he can start doing everything tomorrow. Cooking, getting furniture, finding a job -
Papyrus, of course, is as ecstatic as ever to explore more of their new town. Across the short walk from their new home to the squat building, the kiddo’s been doing cartwheels and kicking up giant piles of snow. He doesn’t know that their entire lives have been uprooted.
Doesn’t even know that they’re missing an integral part of their family.
Sans - Sans isn’t that lucky. But it’s okay.
He can handle this. Hadn’t he always known that there were risks with what he and G̸̨̜̯͉̳̱̝̺̼̈́̆̂͗̌͘͜ā̵̭̥̠͊̋͛̓̎̇̕̕ͅs̵̡̧̙̳͚̜̰̻̦̻̜̒̔͋͝͠ṱ̸͉͌ę̵̮̲̹̩̣͓͎̔̍͐͜ȑ̴̤̟͕͚̝̥̲͓̤̺́̿̎̓̇̊̏͜͜͜͝ were doing?
“SANS!” Papyrus shouts, nearly tripping over himself as he rushes ahead and points up at the giant neon sign that spells out Grillby’s . “LOOK, LOOK… G..RILL... BY’S !”
Sans claps his hands together proudly. He grins and praises his younger brother, “that’s right, pappers. grillby’s. ain’t you just the smartest skeleton in snowdin?”
His reading skills are impressive considering Papyrus hasn’t yet started his second year of school. He would have started two weeks ago if everything hadn’t gone sideways, if the core hadn't swallowed up their dad. But that’s okay too. Because Sans signed him up to start in Snowdin’s little schoolhouse a few days ago, which means he’ll be joining all the other kids next week.
Sans has got this all under control. Everything’s fine. Good. It’s all good.
“I LIKE GRILLBY’S.” Papyrus declares rather suddenly, grasping Sans’ hand tightly when he catches up. “IT HAS A VERY PRETTY SIGN.”
“that’s, that’s great, paps.” Sans tells him. When he grabs Papyrus’ hand in return, he thinks that maybe he’s holding on too tight, but there’s no complaints. “... i think it’s a good sign of what’s to come, huh?”
Que grin and cheeky wink.
The joke almost flies over Papyrus’ head. He stares up at Sans with a scrunched up expression for a full minute before his brow ridges furrow and he shrieks. Papyrus lets go of Sans’ hand and stomps his little bootied feet into the snow.
“NOO!!” He looks up to point at Sans, pure betrayal shining in his eye sockets. “BAD SANS! BAD SANS!”
“good one, sans?” Sans relays with faux-innocence, “keep telling jokes, sans?”
“THAT!! IS THE EXACT OPPOSITE OF WHAT I JUST SAID!!” Papyrus pouts, “YOU ARE A VERY BAD SKELETON.”
This is better. Familiar. Sans has had similar banter with Papyrus many times before. His brother's reactions are just too funny to leave him be.
“aww, don’t tell me you got a bone to pick with me, pappers. i happen to think i got terrific humor.” One more wink is all it takes to have Papyrus hiding his face in his mitten-covered hands.
Absolutely shamed.
Not a minute later, though, Papyrus pops his head up and again his face scrunches as he tries to come up with something to say. Finally, he lights up like a character in a silly cartoon would, and laughs triumphantly. “NYEH HEH HEH! YOUR HUMOR IS CER-TAN-LY…. TERRIBLE - IFFIC!!”
Sans can’t help but let a few chuckles loose.
*oh that’s so bad -
“VICTORY FOR PAPYRUS!!” Having defeated his horrible, un-funny brother, Papyrus again grab’s Sans by the hand and leads him to Grillby’s front door. Sans stumbles the entire way, not prepared for his younger brother’s quick gait.
“w-wait, paps - “ Sans yelps, almost falling flat on his big face when Papyrus shoves the door open and yanks him in.
*stars
*how the hell is a six year old so strong?
Papyrus has always been more sturdy than his older brother. It isn't quite hard, seeing as Sans is sporting 1s all across the board, but he's never felt as weak as he does now. A bare house, a babybones to take care of with no income -
“...”
Sans doesn’t even realize that the room is too quiet until he looks up from brushing off his coat to see that every eye in the entire bar is on him and Papyrus. A blue blush blazes across his cheekbones as he tries to subtlety pull his younger brother closer to his person.
“h-heya…”
Sans could almost shed a tear in relief as everybody turns back to what they’d been doing before, ignoring the brothers.
“SANS!! SANS!! LET’S SIT AT THE COUNTER!!” Papyrus exclaims, once again dragging Sans. He’s a little more prepared for it, now, so he doesn’t end up looking like a complete buffoon when he stumbles forward.
…
“THE CHAIRS ARE VERY TALL.” The small skeleton observes this as he stares wide-socketed at the seat which is just about as tall as him.
Sans chuckles and picks up Papyrus - who squawks at the treatment - under the arms and sets him on the stool. “sure are, good thing your big bro is feeling chair-itable today, huh?”
“UGH, NO.” Papyrus groans. He swings his short legs and looks around while Sans takes a a seat at the stool next to him. Good thing there were exactly two bar seats left - almost like they were meant just for Sans and Papyrus. “... IT’S DARKER IN HERE THAN I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE.”
As if in response to Papyrus’ comment, the back door swings open and out walks what has to be one of the tallest monsters Sans has ever seen - besides Asgore, that is.
And he’s completely made of flame.
Sans’ jaw drops. Papyrus makes an awed noise.
“THAT’S BETTER.” He decides.
Better indeed.
The flame elemental’s fire burns a bright orange, flickering a deeper shade at the edges. He doesn’t have much of a face - fire based monsters rarely do - but he’s one of the most beautiful monsters Sans has ever seen.
Tall, lean, broad shoulders…
Sans doesn’t even realize that the monster’s come closer until Papyrus pats him on the shoulder roughly.
The stocky skeleton finally cranes his neck upwards to look the monster in the not-face, eye lights focusing in on the glasses on his head, and gulps. Sans is sure that the heat he feels on his face is not due to the living fire across from himself.
“...... drinks……?” The whispy question almost seems to float around Sans’ head, keeping him from wrapping his mind around the question.
“i, uh… d-drinks, yeah…”
*fucking say something!!
“YOUR FINEST MILK, BARKEEPER.” Papyrus requests seriously. “TWO GLASSES, PLEASE.”
Sans feels probably an equal amount of relief and mortification over the fact that his baby brother’s saved his bony ass by ordering for the both of them.
There’s the sound of crackling that might be laughter, and the elemental whisks away into the back, presumably to get what Papyrus has requested.
“YOU’RE ACTING VERY STRANGE, BROTHER.”
“.....” Sans tears his eye lights away from where the barkeep disappeared and looks over at his younger brother. “sorry bro, must have been blinded by the light .” He rubs at his eye sockets with the sleeves of his favorite blue hoodie.
“JUST TERRIBLE.” Papyrus scolds lightly, “... WHAT DO THEY SERVE HERE?”
“dunno, you’ll have to ask the barkeep, pappers.” At this rate, Papyrus might have to carry out the entire transaction. Especially if Sans freezes up again like just now.
Where had that even come from?
Sans has seen some attractive people before. Hell, he’s dated an attractive person.
She was a pretty cat monster with blue fur. Sans had liked her a lot, back when they dated in college. He’d especially liked it when she had pressed little kisses to the top of his skull.
But he’d never… looked at another guy like that. And not that there was anything wrong with looking at men like that, Sans had just never… known... this about himself. The truth is that he does find that flame monster highly attractive, though, and it’s making him flustered out of his mind.
It seems like it’s too soon when the flame elemental walks back out with two glasses in tow. He sets them in front of Sans and Papyrus gently.
“THANK YOU, MR….?” Papyrus chirps.
“ ... grillby.”
Sans echoes Papyrus’ sentiment quietly. Of course Grillby would be his name. The damned place is named Grillby’s.
“.... here….” Grillby tells them, “.... would you like any…. food?”
“d-didja…” Sans flinches when the barkeep’s head turns towards him. He’s embarrassed to feel sweat sliding down his forehead. “didja have a menu? we’re, uh, new to town.”
“...... of course…..” Grillby reaches under the bar to grab a little paper menu, and places it between the two brothers. Papyrus is already happily sipping his glass of milk and leans over to look at the options.
Sans can feel Grillby’s, heh, burning stare on him as he looks it over with Papyrus.
Wanting something else to occupy him, Sans reaches for his own glass of milk and takes a sip. When he peaks over at Grillby in his best attempt at ‘discreet’, Sans feels the milk dribble out of his mouth and onto his hoodie.
Grillby has rolled up his fancy sleeves up to his elbows and is polishing a glass with a rag. The way the flames of his arms flicker and his wrists move has Sans entirely too captivated. It’s why he doesn’t notice Papyrus’ loud gasp.
“BROTHER!!” He exclaims, “YOUR SHIRT!”
Both Sans and Grillby glance down to see that Sans has indeed spilled quite a good amount of milk on his hoodie. His face feels like it might melt.
“a-ahh, oh, crap…” Sans mumbles as he tries to brush off the milk. But it’s already soaked into the fabric, leaving a big wet spot on his front.
*great .
Grillby grabs some napkins from under the counter and wordlessly hands them to Sans. Sans takes them, utterly mortified, and dabs the front of his hoodie frantically. Papyrus decides to help, but it’s pretty clear that he’s just rubbing the milk in.
“.... are you okay….?”
Sans is dying inside.
“i’m fine.” He says, “the milk is fine, e-everything’s fine, you’re fine - “ Sans nearly stops breathing.
*why the hell did i say that -
“.... what…?”
“what??” Sans laughs nervously, “pft, i mean, uh, you’re not fine, you’re hot .”
“IS THAT ANOTHER JOKE, SANS?” Papyrus asks flatly.
“no, yes.” Sans takes another giant gulp of milk. Thankfully, he does not spill it this time. “sorry, grillbz, i mean, grillby - “
“.... are you - “
“- i mean, i mean, of course you’re hot ,” Sans rambles, sweating even more, “you’re on fire… hahahahahahah…” Sans takes another drink of milk and stays silent after.
“... WE’LL HAVE TWO BURGERS PLEASE, MR. GRILLBY.”
“..... coming…. right up….”
When Grillby walks away for the second time, Sans lets his head fall forward, his skull smacking loudly on the bar. He lets out a groan that is a small part from the pain but mostly from existential despair.
“... SANS?” Papyrus asks in a stage-whisper a little later.
“yeah, bro?” Sans replies. His voice is muffled because he hasn’t moved an inch from where he’s flopped on the bar.
“LET’S NOT COME TO GRILLBY’S AGAIN. I DO NOT LIKE BURGERS OR FRIES. THEY’RE TOO GREASY.”
“yeah.” Sans says again, “yeah. i gotcha, bro.”
Sans isn’t quite sure he can ever face Grillby again, after that. It’ll probably be a long time before he walks into this place again.
In fact, he might never visit Grillby’s again, because Sans feels like he’s the one on fire when Grillby brings out their food and Sans has to avoid looking at him while he eats. Papyrus picks at his own food with a disapproving face.
“DO YOU TAKE CON-STRUC-TIVE CRITICISM, MR. GRILLBY?”
“...?”
“I BELIEVE YOU NEED TO EXPAND YOUR MENU. GREASE IS NOT VERY APPETIZING.”
“... ah… i see…. ”
Yeah, Sans is never coming here again.