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The easiest way for sans to not think about the logistics of his life would simply be to bite the big one. Unfortunately, that one's not on the table at this confusing moment of time.
He and his alternate version of himself—it’s not worth thinking about—are sitting together in Sans’ kitchen, passing a bong between the two of them in a desperately calm way only someone like them could understand. Every so often, the two of them stop to eat at the junk food they have in front of them.
This is the second easiest way. Getting so unbelievably high with Red, then Red’s horndog of an appetite asks to have casual sex.
It rules.
Sans probably takes his longest hit so far, hazedly staring at the opposing wall in front of him. He can feel his theoretical stomach compress as he breathes in, then expand greatly as he breathes out. It feels like his limbs are spinning in on themselves.
Red next to him is dick deep in a hamburger, grease and mustard spreading all around his face. A messy, messy eater, this one is.
The both of them have had an… admittably shitty day. The little one with the brush dragged him and Fell—or, shit, Red, whatever, does it really matter?—into some dumb mission for something or the other, Sans doesn't want to remember; peep why on the weed. He doesn't even get why he gets invited to that sort of thing anymore, isn’t he important or something to them? It doesn't matter.
Sans can only blow smoke out through his teeth as he feels it creep through his teeth, slowly rocking back and forth on his chair. Red’s a great guy to get high with, and maybe even a great guy in general if Sans was feeling some type of way.
Seemingly sensing Sans’ hazy staring, Red pulls away from where he was practically eating out (he knows where his mind is at and it's a shame he's so easy for himself) his burger. Red gives Sans’ the quickest brief, dazed, white eyelights flickering down and up again as he takes a quick hit of his own, separate cigar.
“You shouldn’t smoke, y’know.” Sans winks at him, all teasing and amused grin. “S’bad for your lungs.”
Red puffs out his cigar smoke, blowing it off to the side. His expression is annoyed, but Sans knows by now that it’s a fond type. “Are ya fuckin’ stupid?”
Sans keeps eye contact with him, breathing in bubbled smoke from their shared bong with excitement and amusement surely clear just in his eyes. Red’s eyelights trail him slower then, a lazy grin spreading like how blood to a fresh wound does. Sans feels his soul pulse and face flush at the glint of gold, sharp teeth present.
Unfortunately, Red is incredibly attractive. It’s not something Sans likes to think about, because once he remembers that Red’s him, it gets weird fast.
Red glances at his burger, eyes narrowing at the clear signs of his slobbering it down messily. He looks back at Sans with a renewed look, grin uplifting to an all knowing, teasing smirk. “Ya’know yer next, right?”
Sans looks at him as if trying not to smile, but amusement is clear in his lidded eyesockets. When a laugh somehow escapes him, along with a puff of smoke, Sans moves the utmost closer to Red to blow the rest of his smoke into Red’s face, who takes it all with his dazed smirk.
Small hand reaching out, Sans rests his palm against Red’s cheek, licking up the mustard and grease teasingingly slow with his ecto tongue (when did he?—you know what, it doesn't matter).
Red stiffens, and Sans can hear his magic eye activate. Surely enough, when Sans pulls away, Red’s staring down at him, singular desperate red eyelight glowing.
“Matta’ fact, why don’tcha come ‘ere an’ sit on Daddy’s lap, princess,” Red coos, though his clear struggle to take the nickname seriously is eminent. They will never for the life of each other take anything seriously.
“Whose lap?” Sans sniggered lightly, though not while also maneuvering himself to sit across Red’s front, legs dangling from one side of the chair.
“Well, definitely ain’t yours,” Red yammers, and Sans reaches for the bong again, boredly watching Red defend his joke of a kink he doesn't even have, smoke bubbling. “Yer the biggest pillow princess I know.”
Sans grabs the back of Red’s skull, phalanges digging in between sharp teeth to force Red’s mouth open. Once successful, he slowly blows the smoke into Red’s mouth, hearing more than feeling the other’s tongue moving at the cotton mouth feeling. Sans pulls back a moment later, fiddling with their bong again.
“Yeah, well, you used to be a tsun-tsun so who's the real loser,” He says under his breath, though he knows Red hears him.
Before Red Rocket can get ballsy, Sans takes another quick hit, dragging Red’s numbskull to his. Sans pushes their tongues together leisurely as he pushes smoke into Red's mouth, swinging his legs as he throws a casual arm over Red’s shoulder. Red whines against him, hand leaning down to massage Sans’ left ilium.
Saliva dribbles down his chin, possibly his, possibly Red’s, but it doesn't stop him from swirling tongues with his alternate. Maybe it’s the weed, but he feels like he can feel every inch of Red’s tongue.
After his initial surprise, Red quickly pushes for the control of the kiss back, which Sans doesn’t mind giving him. Red’s tongue pushes into his mouth, swirling in precise motions to make it feel overwhelming. Sans makes the littlest of noise, which unfortunately will only encourage Red to get him to make more.
With a quick shortcut, Red and Sans plop down onto Sans’ green couch, and Red pushes for Sans to straddle him. Without pulling away, Sans moves to sit over Red’s lap, legs folded on themselves on either side of Red. As the noises their tongues make smacking together get lewd, Red quickly wedges a phalange between soft, pillowy ecto and Sans’ shorts.
Sans pulls away with a gasp for air he doesn’t need before lifting his hips up, letting Red quickly peel his shorts off of him. Sans sits down fully in Red’s lap, chuckling when Red whines at where he lands.
“Is that a bone in your front pocket or are you just happy to see me?” Sans laughs at him breathily, looking at Red’s annoyed face as small snorts escape him. He always laughed funny when he was high.
Clearly wanting to fight back against Sans’ constant jokes, Red opens his mouth with the intent to speak. All that comes out, fortunately for Sans, is a deep groan that makes Sans’ magic curl.
Slow movements rotate Sans’ hips, lips of his cunt around the large bulge growing in Red’s shorts. Sans only lets out minimal whines to not get Red feeling some type of way, though this is likely way more stimulating for him than it is Red.
“You’re bein’ a big brat right now, dollface,” Red growls, phalanges gripping into the Sans’ wide, pillowly hips. Sans lightly rolls his eyes with a big grin, feeling like he’s floating right now.
After one more deep grind that has Sans biting his tongue, he lifts himself from Red’s lap to drape his back against the couch’s armrest. The man in question seems immensely bothered by it…
…Until Sans rubs a socked foot against Red’s bulge from the side. Red looks over, a twitch running through his whole cock before Red’s freeing it. Sans watches it bounce out, feeling heavily amused.
Sans laughs lightly as he slowly massages a foot up and down Red’s half-chub, his alternate’s hands clenching and unclenching as red magic swells in his shorts. It's a sight he’s used to, overwhelming Red like this. Picking for a fight always takes a minute to reach its desired effect.
“Can ya touch yourself?” Red asks, starting to get some more control in his voice, the gruffness coming back. Sans raises a delighted browbone before only continuing his administrations on Red’s growing cock.
With a hum of curiosity and a struggle not to laugh at his next question, Sans simply asks, “Would masturbating while high be masturblazing, weedhacking, or highjacking?”
As a bead of precome wets Sans’ sock from rubbing his distal against Red’s slit, the bigger skeleton growls under his breath. An excited look on Sans’ face, he asks, “Sexcuse me, buddy? I didn’t quite catch that,”
Suddenly, Sans’ arms are squished against his sides as Red grabs him, dragging him closer. Sans’ grin grows, red magic overtaking Red’s face as it usually did.
“Ya’know what, buttercup?” Red asks with a crazed chuckle and a small shake to Sans’ body. Sans continues to grin at him, so Red tries to not look so desperate. “I ain’t doin’ this shit with you tonight.”
Sans can barely make a noise of confusion before Red moves him again as the other lays on his back, having Sans’ straddle his ribs. “You ain’t doin’ that dumb teasin’ shit. Can—can we just blow each other? There ain’t nothin’ wrong with a bit a’ fellatio,”
Sans considers it while slowly rocking against Red’s sternum. “Whu… You wanna sixty-nine…?” He shrugs a second later, “Shoulda said so earlier.” Sans flips his body, scooting back to position his pussy over Red’s awaiting mouth.
Red runs his hands up Sans’s sides as his skilled tongue laps desperately at Sans’ cunt. Phalanges move up and hold Sans’ jacket and shirt up, bunching it to the top of Sans’ back. Sans doesn't feel bad for suffocating the guy, sitting back fully as he leans down to jerk at Red’s ruby dick a bit more.
Sans remembers the first time that Sans gave Red a blowjob, but frankly only because it was humiliating. They—would you believe it—were high off their minds and Sans could feel his magic nestling strangely (Sans doesn't really question why he only seems to be able to form a libido when he’s high), which Red had noticed. He admits to feeling incredibly pent up as well, to which Sans crawls over and palms at Red’s pubis in a dazed manner. It resulted in a sloppy but enthusiastically given blowjob. Sans knew he didn't do good, but at the moment he was really only thinking of making Red feel good. He was strangely excited about doing it. And he completely sucked.
And he still does, in his own mind. Red likes to tell him that he sucks dick like it's his job now, but Sans doesn't know if that’s all that truthful. Sans also just doesn’t like sucking dick. It is boring and frankly it’s too much work.
Pre-cum beading heavily at Red’s tip brings him back, once again aware of the heavy grinding he’s doing against Red’s maw and the quiet, obscene pants he’s letting out.
Leaning down, Sans kitten-licks the dribbling pre-cum off of Red’s slit before sticking his tongue out and taking Red’s cock down his throat quickly. Being a skeleton that doesn't need to breathe makes it a little easier, he supposes.
The constant stimulation on his cunt stops for a moment, Red’s breath hitting against him as he laughs. “I really gotta know what goes through yer head when yer blowin’ me,”
“Your dick, mostly,” Sans pulls off and snickers to himself, laughing harder at Red’s annoyed sigh.
Red licks at his clit every so often, and it's enough for Sans to start getting vocal every time he does it, slobbering around Red’s dick as his boyfriend runs laps on him when it comes to giving the best head. Sans tries his best to bob his skull down, tongue following veins and teasing the slit, hands jacking Red’s cock off every time he rises to its tip. He really does want Red to feel just as good as Red’s making Sans feel. He feels genuinely upset by being bad at this, pulling back a moment in frustration, trying not to childishly pout.
After absentmindedly jerking Red off for a moment, Sans leans down with a renewed vigor to please Red, slowly moving his way down the absurd cock. Red is—fortunately or unfortunately depending on which hole you ask—hung. Deepthroating is something Sans is irrationally scared of because of this monster.
“Wh… hah…” Sans mumbles in ecstasy around Red’s dick, eyelights dilating as Red begins aggressively lapping and circling Sans’ clit with his tongue.
With a few more excited moans with Red’s cock in his open mouth, Sans pulls off of it to grind more easily against Red’s face. “Haa… Red…” Sans pants, uneven and quick breathing becoming melodic. It’s so much better to just let Red do all the work, lapping at him with skilled nuance while Sans can get off nicely. While he’s usually one for more drawn out, vanilla sex, he can do stuff like this, too.
Red reaches his hands around, almost absentmindedly squeezing at Sans’ the small pudge of Sans' stomach. The euphoria pulses through Sans’ body in waves, something he can only blame on the weed. Sans hangs his head, back and forth movements on Red’s face getting more and more sloppy. Sans’ pants turn to soft, desperate moans as he feels his thighs tingle and his pussy clench, his boyfriend’s name on the tip of his tongue.
The pressure stops, Red’s tongue retreating. “Huh?” Sans almost whines, body twitching from being so close.
“That’s what ya get, broad!” Red cackles from below him, and Sans can’t help but think Red’s in no position to be laughing at Sans. “Ya wanna tease me, and not listen, and act like a brat? Then you—”
Sans snrks, hand over his teeth. “You sound so dumb…” His laugh is breathy, small snorts here and there because he’s so goddamn high.
“You want dumb?” Red growls, and Sans squeaks at his stomach being pushed into the couch’s armrest, top half hanging over the couch’s side. “I’ll make you fuckin’ dumb, baby, don’ worry… jus’ focus on how that pretty pussy a’ your’s feels,”
Red pants between Sans’ shoulder blade, and Sans shivers excitedly. God, he loves this rough shit. He’s glad Red doesn't even consider being gentle when this intimate, aggressively humping against Sans’ leaking cunt. Red has a hand deeply pushing Sans’ back into an arch, the other massaging his ass.
“Ehehh… sure, break a leg, bu—” Sans is cut off from a wanton moan, one he can’t believe he’d ever make. Red spanked… Red spanked his pussy. Sans can feel his shoulders tremble, eyesockets wide and welling up at the sting. He really wasn’t… um, he really didn’t think that could feel so good.
Red rubs hard at his clit now, though he coos at Sans’ loud moan. “Daww, somebody regret that?”
Sans sucks in a breath, closing his eyes and doubling down. “I regret inviting you over, for sure,” and Sans closes his eyes in acceptance when the silence stretches on for just too long.
Two phalanges spread Sans’s lips before a hand comes down to strike him quickly. Sans lets out an aroused sob, clinging to the sofa’s arm rest. Red laughs excitedly from behind him on his knees, slapping against Sans’ open pussy three more times. Sans chokes on another cry, whining and shifting his hips for anything.
“Ya want more, ‘nilly?” Red is clearly getting off to this, excitement the clearest thing in his voice.
Sanz feels high off of stimulation, pushing back on the palm resting over his quaking pussy. “Hhhhhn… ha… Red, c’mon,” Sans folds his arms, head hanging over the armrest as he shakes in anticipation.
“It’s a fuckin’ sixty-nine, Sans,” Red says, and Sans can hear the sharp grin in his voice. “You do me, I do you. Not I do you and you owe me.” Red snickers, and Sans sighs. This guy…
Sans, grinning with a playful look in his eyelights, can only ask, “How cool do you think you are?”
“Pretty fuckin’ cool considerin’ I’ve got Sans classic under me right now,” Red snarks, hands on either side of the armrest suddenly caging Sans in. “Mustard done somethin’ right for that. Figured I charmed ya real good.”
With a breathy chuckle, Sans winks thoughtfully. “I’m sorry you thought you were smooth first time we met?”
Red’s hands tighten on the armrest, but Sans knows he’s embarrassed. “I wasn’t that bad—alright, no, who’s under who right now?” A tinge of a laugh breaks through his voice.
Sans can’t help but laugh with him, air filled laughs and small snorts. Red moves back again, and Sans twitches in surprise when he feels phalanges spreading his forgotten lips again. He forgot that they were having sex for a second there. He liked just bantering with Red, that was much more fun than this teasing game Red decided to reroute to.
“I dunno if I prepped ya enough,” Red murmurs, leaning down to kiss at Sans' back and shoulders, light and soft as Sans’ ecto body. He slides his hands up the sides of Sans’ thighs up to the front of his stomach under Sans’ shirt, squeezing happily. “Think you can take it?”
And Sans really tries not to make a bad pun, but it’s incredibly easy and he has no other option than to go for it. “Hey now, don’t be so cocky there, Red.”
He can feel Red freeze against him a moment, to which Sans desperately tries not to laugh. Sans is very excited about what Red’s gonna do.
Red is pulling himself back, and with a quick snap of his hips, is completely hilted in Sans. Sans gasps out a surprised laugh then, panting in arousal. He can see the shit-eating grin this bozo behind him has right now.
“I think yer the one who shouldn’t be so arrogant, sweetheart,” Red chuckles, kneading Sans’ stomach and rubbing his hips to Sans’ ass for a moment, kind enough to let Sans get used to it. Puffy lips circling Red's cock, strings of pre-cum between them.
With a huff and a bunch of grumbles, Sans starts pushing back against Red, trying not to move as desperately as he wants to. Red notices, because of course he does.
“Boy, ya sure are easy,” Red whistles happily, beginning to thrust with a calm pace. Red takes Sans’s hands, holding his wrists to his back with a strangely strong grip. Sans hums in pleasure, closing his eyes.
“I’m not.” Sans says with a tone full of fake annoyance, bouncing back on Red’s cock in time with his thrusts. “But I can be persuaded with good puns.”
Red snickers against his will, thrusts beginning to speed up more and more. With a few more hard kisses to Sans’s shoulder, Red grumbles, “I’m makin’ yer hole weak right now and yer still crackin’ jokes? Must not be fuckin’ ya hard enough,”
Drool makes its way down Sans’ chin, laughing drowsily in pleasure. Red’s free hand ends up clawing to the arm rest again next to Sans’ shoulder, heavy panting coming from behind him. Sans would like to say he’s fairing better, but just the sounds he’s making would easily contradict that.
He flexes his hands, Red’s thrusts getting impossibly harder, pistoning into him. His mouth is dry from the weed, slobbering from the rough fuck he’s getting, making melodic noises as he’s thrusted against the arm rest over and over.
Sans swallows down his saliva, pants out aggressively after a particularly hard thrust. He feels so, so, so good right now. The pleasure pulses and waves through him like when he’s high and focused on his breathing. It’s blissful, and Sans is thankful that Red is able to reduce him to mush, leaving him focused on simply just the pleasure he’s feeling and the man helping him feel it.
Kisses begin on his jacket sleeves, kissing up and down their lengths then up again for good measure. Sans jerks back and forth from Red’s thrusts, the tears that had welled up earlier from the spanking finally spilling over.
Red chuckles, hand squeezing the couch lifting to squeeze at Sans’ neck instead, pulling his head back. Sans hums in euphoria, smiling up at the ceiling, drool pooling in his mouth again. There's obsence slaps of slick skin echoing throughout the room, Sans' desperate moans and whines only accenting the lewd slaps.
“Ya’know, princess, I wanted to do this with a bit more dignity, but, uh…” Red smirks, sweating bullets as he leans over Sans’ body. Sans tries to look back at him, spine arching as he pants open mouthed into the air.
Sans grins when he finally catches sight of Red, a light whine getting past his teeth as Red doesn’t stop his heavy thrusts. Sans can barely even focus on what Red is saying to him, more concerned with the cock wringing his insides out, the hand holding his two wrists together, the stench of their raunchy sex and weed seeping into the crevices of the couch cushions. Likely due to the weed, Red’s big cock is the only thing he can feel, pleasure waving through his body every time Red hits the end of the tunnel. A shuddery breath rakes his body, trembling excitedly as a thrust sends a bead of his drool to the carpeted floor.
“Wanted to get ya a bunch a’ echo flowers an’ everythin’, too,” Red laughs again, more nervous this time. Sans looks back at him, eyesockets slightly streaked and mouth open, dripping saliva. Their ecto flesh continues to smack together, wet magic bouncing against one another. Sans can’t help but laugh, the glimpse of Red’s nervous face he can manage being too cute.
Red laughs with him, less worried than last time, before using his hand on Sans’ throat to make him look forward, then his hand on Sans’s wrists to dip under Sans’ shirt to squeeze his stomach, bending over his body. “Take ya home after takin’ you out ta eat, ask ya somethin’ important, then if I was lucky enough, bend ya over ‘n fuck ya realll nice ‘n slow,”
Pants brace against Sans’ skull as Red says it, and Sans lets out a drawn out whine when Red talks about such a raw promise of them fucking. Red knows he’s a sucker for slow sex, and Sans can only reply with a shaky hum as Red squishes his stomach again.
Sans’ hand blindly reaches behind him, holding the back of Red’s skull as his eyelights roll up in a mix of discomfort and pleasure. Red’s so close to the side of his face, heavy breathing and groaning and whines slipping from his mouth as his rams his cock somehow deeper yet deeper.
“I figure, though, that now’s as good a time as any, baby,” Red coos before it breaks off into a groan at the sound of Sans’ stuttered moan.
Sans can barely focus on Red’s words, but he's really trying here. It’s just—Red’s cock ramming up into all the right places, desperate growls in his skull, the light pressure on his neck, and the weed amplifying everything he’s feeling—Sans’ feels too good to focus on anything else. The only thing there is for him to care about is the length of Red’s dick dragging out against his walls, then quickly back all the way in again.
“He… hee…” Sans laughs deliriously, scrambling to keep hold of Red’s skull as his thrusts somehow get even harder. He feels like he can barely think for himself at this point. The pulse beating through his whole body is an addicting feeling, one he could cum off of alone. All he cares about is the build of pressure in his gut and the swirls of static in his thighs, bucking back as much as he can to meet Red halfway. “Hhhhh… Red, s’good, Red…”
Red laughs heartily by his skull, hand on his stomach running up to brief between Sans’ ribs. “You with me, gorgeous?"
Sans feels his mouth dry up, and he pants and pants and pants. He gulps down nothing, trying to rein himself in to actually listen to Red instead of the immense stimulation he’s getting pushed into him. “Hmmh… mmhhahh—mhm, yup..!” Sans nods sloppily, hiccuping and buffering with moans.
“Then, ya wanna be mine, sweetheart?” Red asks, gruff voice finally getting sloppy with his thrusts, Sans’ clenching hard around him. “I’ll take ya out real proper after this.”
“Reeed..!” Whining with a heavy twitch to his body, Sans squeezed his eyes shut and arched his back, feeling cum spurt out of his pussy in a drowsy register of relief. “Fuck, yes..! God,” Sans moans loudly, body trembling and toes clenching as another heavy pulse rushes through him, globs of cum still pushing out of him, staining the couch beneath him.
Sans pants, head hanging over the couch as he tries to remember what Red had asked him. All he can focus on is Red’s monster of a cock still pummeling into him, body beginning to twitch in discomfort and overstimulation.
“Shit, of course—yeah, Red,” Sans turns his head drearily, panting heavily into Red’s mouth in a desperate way to signal for a kiss. Red seems to get it, meeting Sans’ open mouth with his own. They lick at each other's tongues, Sans’ pants and Red’s groans seemingly neverending.
Sans’ heavenly whines into Red’s mouth continue as Red pulls Sans’ hips tight to his own. With a short moan of Red’s own into Sans’ tastebuds, Red’s cumming deep within Sans, cock twitching heavily. Sans feels like it should never stop, how much seed is being planted into his magic body. It doesn’t help he’s already overstimulated and thoroughly brain-fucked.
Red pulls his tongue out of Sans’ mouth, sighing in relief. “Well, that was a load off, wasn’t it, princess?” Red grins wildly, looking at Sans’ dazed expression. Eyelights struggling to not roll to the back of his head, tears threatening to fall, and drool heavily coating Sans’ jaw.
Same self-absorbed smirk on his face, Red slowly flips Sans’ body to look him in the eyes. “You’re all mine, ain’tcha, babydoll?”
“Mmh…” Is all Sans can offer, overstimulation fading as he slowly begins to buck and bounce onto Red’s cock again. Sans' can only focus on where they connect, blue, fat pussy, bubbingly with fluids as he shifts and bounces against Red's deep ruby cock, lines of sweat and cum connecting big blue thighs and red ecto flesh. Red smirks excitedly, sweating happily as he holds Sans’ legs to his sides.
“So… s’good, Red… I wanna feel good…” Sans whines, bracing his hands loosely around Red’s shoulders, who just can’t seem to stop smiling with that winning smirk of his. It’s just so good, the pulse and sweat is too good.
“I love gettin’ ya all dumb, buttercup,” Red drawls, slowly pulling out again before leaning down to swap spit with Sans. Just as their tongues make a lewd, slick noise, Red thrusts forwards, ramming his cock back in quickly.
“Why’dya call me… thhhat?” Sans moans into Red’s mouth, much more preferring the slow, deep pace Red sets after his initial thrust in. “You’re always callin’ me… stuff,”
Red gives him a long, more tender kiss, massaging Sans’ calf as he looks down at his new boyfriend. “Yer real precious, ain’tcha?”
Red slips a hand underneath Sans' shirt, rubbing deep circles into Sans' ribs. It takes a moment, but Sans takes the hint that Red wants him to form his chest. With a trembling breath, Sans tries to focus his magic on his ribcage, Red's excited chuckle cletting him know that he did good. A hand lifts Sans shirt over large mounds on his chest, perky nipples and bountiful tits revealed to Red.
Sans shivers as Red slowly grinds his hips, feeling his boyfriend (...did he call Red that already? What a pre-fire.) laying down against San’s chest, nuzzling inbetween Sans' breasts.
“Mmm…” Sans hums in bliss, circling his hips slowly in time with Red’s own movements. Currently, he’s more focused on his pleasure than responding to Red. He reaches his hands up to Red’s skull, petting over the bone, as Red shifts himself up to lap at Sans’ nipple. “Dunno,”
It’s all so good. Sans can admit he sounds needy, rhythmic breaths as Red nips at a bud, humping slowly whenever Red stops moving his cock into Sans’ cunt. Sans likes this part of sex more than anything, their eyes closed, slowly humping and moaning against each other. Sans looks to the side, tucking his chin into his hood and purring contentedly.
“Well, you are, Sans.” Red speaks into his skin, arms wrapping around Sans’ midsection as he says the sweet words. Sans purrs louder, a small smile reaching his teeth. “Yer real important to me, ya’know?”
On the couch, Sans isn’t sure how long they grind against each other lazily like this. Sans could probably fall asleep if it wasn’t for the pressure building up in his magic and the perverted pulse bouncing through his being. Red sucks deep kisses into the ecto skin he can reach on Sans’ breasts, rubbing hard circles into the sides of Sans’ body.
He wants to be here with Red forever, and everywhere else, too. He likes having slow sex with Red, and hard sex, and talking all night, and napping together, and not really fully trusting each other just yet, and bantering over food, and he and Red being able to be there for each other when dealing with multiversal bullshit. He and Red are all he needs. This is Sans’ true kind of love, petting on Red’s skull slowly, numbed to sleepiness as Red slowly enjoys himself. And now Sans is his, and he always knew he would be.
Red was never… well, secretive. Which is strange to him, considering Red is a Sans. He just seems to have bad impulse control. The first few times they got high and had sex together, Red kept saying he loved Sans, which was more of a shock at the time than it should’ve been. Sans had always figured that they were dating up to this point, but neither of them seem worried to label it as an actual relationship. Honestly, it’s been stressing him out a little bit. He’s glad it’s patched up now.
“Love you, Sans,” Red mumbles into Sans’ collarbone, beginning to pick up the speed of his slow thrusts, groaning deep into sparkling blue flesh. “‘N yer all mine, now, too.”
Sans laughs lightly, continuing to pet at Red’s skull. His back slowly curled up from the new pace, breathing picking up. “I love you too, Red,”
“It’s been freakin’ me out for so long, I didn't know how ta ask,” Red whimpers into Sans’ ecto skin, moaning deeply after a slow thrust runs against Sans’ walls. Sans squirms, wrapping his arms around Red’s neck.
“I’ve been stressing about it for weeks,” Sans smiles, clinking his teeth to Red’s forehead with a laugh.
Red looks up at him in major confusion, a laugh edging into his voice. “...Have you been?”
Sans just nods with an airy chuckle, breath hitching as he rests his chin on the top of Red’s head. To hide his breathing transforming into whines, Sans presses a sweet kiss to Red’s head again as Red’s thrusting gets a bit faster.
“I really do love you, Red,” Sans continues to pet at Red, mewling against his skull in pleasure. Compared to how fast his other climax came to him, it’s nice to have it slowly build up and fester in his gut, back unsure of if it should arch or not.
Thighs trembling, Sans lowers his hands to lift Red’s head, his whimpers and groans becoming more audible once his mouth is lifted off of Sans’ shirt. Moaning, Sans’ lifts Red’s teeth to his for a tender kiss. “And I’ll always be with you,”
“Right here.” Sans pants as he pulls off of Red’s mouth, hand creeping between them to ghost over Red’s chest.
Red, now seemingly more out of it from the slower pace, breathes heavy into Sans’ mouth, eyelights hazy. “My… my chest?” His voice is drifty, clearly not all there.
Trembling hands wrap back around Red’s neck, a small laugh breaking through Sans’ teeth. “No, silly.” Sans presses another kiss to the top of Red’s skull, gasps picking up. “Red..!”
“Shit, I got ya, princess.” Red unfurls his arms from around Sans, holding himself up on the couch as he begins thrusting harder into Sans’ cunt.
Sans’ mouth is open, small puffs of uneven breaths breaking out. Red grins down at him, not fairing much better as he picks up the speed of his humping.
“Red, Red…” Sans pants against his boyfriend’s sharp teeth, who dips down to lick at the inside of Sans’ mouth. It still feels weird, their tongues slicking together while he has cotton mouth, but it’s pleasurable in its own way.
Squeezing his arms around Red’s head, Sans’ stomach quivers and his toes curl. “Red!” Sans moans into his boyfriend’s mouth, back lifting off of the couch as his second orgasam washes through him. The waves of beating drift through his body again, calming him down and riling him up all the same.
Red groans against his teeth, thrusts only getting stronger, cock only dragging harder against Sans’ insides. “Keep sayin’ my name, babydoll..!” A hand reaching down to rub at Sans’ clit, causing a loud, stuttered moan to pierce the inside of Red’s mouth.
“Geez, Red…” Sans pants, feeling his magic work his system up again rapidly, the stimulation from Red’s finger and his cock overwhelming Sans fast. “Fuck, Red… Red..!”
With a gutteral, gruff groan, Red is balls deep into Sans’, hilted and pumping hot spunk into his magic. Sans can feel his stomach heating up, drooling at the sensation, barely realizing that he’s cumming again.
Once the last of Red’s cum spurts into Sans’ body, he’s slowly pulling his cock out. Sans sighs in deep pleasure, a low purr echoing through the room as Sans tucks himself into his shirt’s neckhole. He can hear Red laugh, arms wrapping around Sans’ stomach.
Red nuzzles against his pudge, a happy noise coming out of Red’s throat. Sans laughs at the sight, petting Red’s head again.
“You’re the best boyfriend, Red.” Sans murmurs, eyesockets lidded. Red perks up, and somehow is blushing the most at Sans’ comment.
“Yeah, well—I’m always the best!” Red grins in victory, stretching up to press a sweet kiss to Sans’ teeth. He pulls away, but Sans pulls him right back in again with something that could qualify as a giggle. Red seems to like it, an entranced laugh of his own meeting Sans’ teeth.
When they pull away, Sans looks at Red with an amused smile and lidded eyes. “If you’re really the best boyfriend, can you go get the bong? And those cookies we bought?”
Red seems to really like when Sans calls him his boyfriend. He leans up, grumbling something salty, before stalking away to the kitchen.
Sans takes the time to slowly sit forward, stretching his arms up and pulling his shirt back over his breasts. Reaching for the TV remote, he flips through all of the available channels before finding a cringy dating show, nestling back against the arm rest in comfort. The couch is squishy enough to melt into.
Red comes back a few seconds later, grinning at the TV as he puts a container of cookies down on the coffee table before he lights the bowl of the bong again. He stares at Sans as he takes a long, bubbly hit of the bong.
Lifting Sans’ legs up, Red sits in their place before plopping them down in his lap, blowing smoke all around. He passes the bong to Sans, who takes a long drag of it in bliss.
Before long, his body starts to pulse again, waves of relaxation smacking against him as if he were at a shore’s edge. Before long, Red’s phalanges begin to trail up Sans’ ecto, two boney fingers slipping between pillowed thighs.
Getting high with his boyfriend is a great way to kill time.