Chapter Text
It was a dreary day.
Leaves were rustling, a car horn was blaring, and Sans was trying not to doze off at his hotdog stand.
Business had been quiet that day due to the weather; what with the chill from both the wind and a cloudy sky, and people were reluctant to waste their lunch breaks out in the cold.
“beach weather my bony ass, thaddeus beckett,” Sans mumbled under his breath.
Any other day and he’d be slinging dogs and toasting buns at a steady rate until the hours passed by in a blur of casual jokes and monetary exchanges. The people of this city loved their tube meat, and if there was one thing that got them fired up, it was the nomenclature and nuances of the humble hot dog.
Last summer, as a way to drum up business, he had placed a polling station near his cart, along with a sign asking, “Is a hot dog a sandwich?”
He really didn’t care one way or the other. Hot dogs were delicious regardless of what food category they happened to be in. But the reaction his question posed was the highlight of his summer.
People would argue with each other daily, to various degrees of furiousness, and yelling matches broke out on several occasions.
One in particular that stood out was the time an exasperated blue-collar woman got into it with the scraggliest looking hippie. She was shrieking that “a sandwich could not be, as he had defined it, ‘meat between bread’ because then a calzone would be considered a sandwich, and if a calzone is a sandwich then two pizzas stacked on top of each other, following the same idiotic logic, would also be a sandwich!”
Sans could see the wheels turning in this man’s head; the buzz of his residual high fading as his face changed to shock. His poor bohemian mind, expecting merely to consume a hot dog, instead had some life-changing, mind-blowing epiphany. After a beat, he told her she was a genius and that he’d been eating pizza wrong his entire life. Probably didn’t help that he tried to hug her.
Sans, barely able to contain his laughter, watched while the poor woman suffered what was surely an aneurysm.
One guy even asked if he could vote multiple times to ensure that a hot dog was considered a sandwich; as if this bullshit poll had any validity at all. Bemusedly, Sans informed him he could only cast one vote a day, and sure enough, there were no less than ten individuals who returned every day without fail to buy a hotdog and cast a ballot in the world’s dumbest poll.
Of all his bright ideas, this one shook his faith in humanity a little.
Did wonders for his business though.
With no hijinks to occupy his time Sans found himself struggling to keep his eyes open as the day wore on.
Working a hotdog stand was relatively easy and required very little mental bandwidth. It came naturally to Sans, though that may have been muscle memory from his days Underground. And part of the muscle memory included occasionally sleeping on the job (thank you very much low HP).
An alarm on his phone snapped him to attention and momentarily shook away the haze of sleep. It was his monthly alarm alerting him to “confirm movie night”. Ahh, the beginning of the month. A time when two semi reclusive people attempt to make and follow through with plans for social interactions.
Sans hit the proverbial jackpot with this particular friend. They were good with is bro, had a decent sense of humor and didn’t demand much of him. They talked almost daily but most of their conversations were through text and revolved around sharing various cursed imagery. And if they spent time together it was usually for the obligatory once a month get together which was mainly to keep his brother off his back about not being social. But even so, what they had was still genuine.
After fishing out his phone Sans silenced the alarm then began to text his friend.
S.T. Skeleton: heya bud that time again u free this wknd to come over n watch a movie r 2
~~~~~
You were surprised to hear the chime of your phone’s text notification. Last you had checked there was so signal in the fields where your equipment was set up and the day had gone by free of any distractions. Though now that you were distracted, damn it was getting cold. The wind was picking up something fierce, bringing in some dark clouds and maybe you should finish your findings report back in your truck before you moved on to a new sample site.
“A good day for the beach my supple ass Thaddeus Beckett. The only job that you get to be crap at on a consistent basis yet they still refer to your ‘expertise’ every day,” you mused out loud.
After removing a dusty glove you checked your phone and saw a message from your friend Sans asking if you’d be coming over to watch movies this weekend.
“That time again, eh?” you mumbled to yourself before deft fingers spun out a quick reply.
RockSolid: You bet. Just remind me the day before or I’ll forget and then bail. You know the drill.
As you pocketed your phone you could feel several drops of rain, spurring you to race towards your laptop and put it in the nearby vehicle. Every thirty seconds or so you punctuated your actions with a colorful curse word as you settled in to carry out the rest of your day working in rain.
~~~~~
When Papyrus got home that afternoon he was not surprised to see his brother’s wet hoodie and soaked shoes at the door. The sudden monsoon-like rain would have put an end to any outdoor affair, and his brother was the type to find any outrageous excuse to shut down early. This time it just happened to be totally legitimate.
That dreadful weatherman really ought to be replaced with, well, anything really. Even a badger could probably predict future weather patterns with more accuracy than Thaddeus Beckett.
It was just as well since Papyrus wanted to talk to his brother about a growing concern and the sooner the better.
After removing and hanging his own wet belongings Papyrus started the search, first checking for fuzzy pink slippers hanging over the armrest of the livingroom chesterfield. Nope.
He wasn’t in the kitchen either.
Sans couldn’t be downstairs as he was still banned from entering the basement after recent events dubbed, “The Unpleasantness” which were not worth mentioning, ever.
The only place left was his room and Papyrus swiftly ascended the stairs and knocked on his door, ensuing to knock six or seven times to offset any chance at a ‘knock knock’ joke formulating.
Papyrus heard the shuffling of blankets and soft padded steps before the bedroom door opened to reveal a tired-looking disheveled Sans.
“hey paps, what’s up? how was work?”
“Work was fine, we finished early today. Sans I’d like to talk to you about something, can I,” Papyrus hesitated before finishing his question. He loved his brother very much despite his utter lack of innate cleanliness, and while the rest of the house had to remain in peak condition, Sans’ room was the one place Papyrus had no jurisdiction over. Like the shadowy lands in that lion movie he liked so much. “Come in?”
Sans shuffled his feet before looking back into the recesses of his room, sensing his brother unease.
“sure paps, but, ya know, why don’t we talk downstairs. i could use a bite anyways.”
The relief on Papyrus’ face was as apparent as him being a skeleton. “Splendid idea. I’ll meet you down there.”
Papyrus turned on his heels and beelined for the kitchen trying not to think about the last time he was in Sans’ room and what he saw in that garbage vortex. There were just some things one was not meant to know about their sibling. At any rate googly eyes were now on the list of items bared from entering his house.
Sans was already perched up on the counter in the kitchen by the toaster waiting for his bread to pop when Papyrus walked in.
“so, whattaya wanna chat bout?”
“In a word, friends.”
“oh hey, speaking of, my pal’s coming over for our movie night in a couple o’ days. you gonna join us?
“Sure, if I’m around. Sans, I’m going to be blunt here, but I think you should try to meet new people and make some new friends.”
Sans’ response had a bit more of an edge than he intended, but he was genuinely caught off guard. “hey, i have great friends paps. what’s this all about?”
Papyrus put up his hands in a placating gesture. “I’m not implying there is anything wrong with the friends you currently have. All, what, two of them? Three if I’m being generous, Four if I include myself. Five if - are you and Undyne still fighting?”
“until she admits she’s an ass and apologizes for the saxophone incident, yes.”
“Then four it is. Listen, Sans, it’s not about quantity. My point is simply that it would do you good, real good, to try new things and meet some new people. Join a book club. Play bingo on Thursday nights at the senior’s home. Just something to put you out there! You know I met the most interesting human with a Gatling gun for a hand the other day while jogging on my lunch break. It turns out he doesn’t actually have a gun for a hand, he was just pretending, but he’s delightful to spend time with and we are now friends.”
Sans grunted in response but otherwise kept quiet.
“Look, you so rarely see Dr. Alphys anymore, and your human friend is lovely, but they are often out of town for work. And while it’s sad that you don’t spend as much time with Grillby, you know cutting back on the drinking has been a positive change for you. I’m not suggesting you try and reach my friend count. That bar is WAY too high but...” Papyrus crossed the kitchen to Sans and placed a hand on his shoulder, leaning down to force some brotherly eye contact. “I’ve noticed you’ve started hiding away more and more, just like old times, and I think you need this. You’ve made such amazing progress and we should keep pushing forward.”
The silence in the kitchen was thick, cut only by the sound of toasted bread heralding its new crusty existence.
Sans reached out to grab a slice, chewing methodically to avoid talking.
“Here, I’ve thought out a simple way for you to start meeting people. No need to jump right into the thick of it when you can do things at your own pace.”
Papyrus walked to the table to pick up his phone before returning and passing it over to his brother. An app was currently loading on the screen.
“It’s called Yakety-App. A program used for monsters to meet like-minded individuals and stay connected. You create a profile and answer some questions, and then it helps match you with applicable candidates based on all the criteria you’ve entered.”
San scrolled through a sea of his brother’s contacts and notifications, still unsure about the app. “i dunno paps, i mean how fulfilling can an online relationship be with someone who calls themselves MapleThunderDownUnder?”
“Come now Sans, best not to judge a book by its title. Maple is a sweetheart who regularly sends me videos of people scraping barnacles off of sea turtles. It’s oddly satisfying” Papyrus took back his phone and left the kitchen, walking towards the staircase. He paused before beginning the climb. “Please, at the very least just make a profile. That’s all I’m asking brother.”
Sans didn’t offer up a response, but Papyrus didn’t linger for one anyways. Sans remained seated on the counter, eating plain toast and collecting crumbs on his shorts. Really, how bad could it be? All in all signing up would take minimal effort on his part, would make his brother happy, and when it inevitably went nowhere, he could go back to business as usual. At least until his brother came down on his case again with another plan to ease the despondency on his soul.
But that was a problem for future sans.
Sighing in resignation Sans searched for the app on his phone and proceeded to download his new project for the evening. Much to his delight, KetchupDawg101 was available as a username.
tbc