Chapter Text
You stared at the small diner from across the street, hands shoved deep into your pockets. It was cute. The neon sign buzzed quietly, flickering in the dusk like some kind of beacon—“Grillby’s,” it read.
But the warmth coming from the place wasn’t enough to drown out the storm of nerves swirling in your stomach. This was stupid. Why the hell did you agree to a date through a dumb app? The guy didn’t even look like his profile picture. Or… maybe he did, but what the hell were you thinking?
It was a little past five, almost time for your blind date to show up. You told yourself, no pressure. It was casual. Just two strangers sitting down to have a meal, maybe share a few laughs. Right?
Except your stomach was doing backflips. You could be at home, wearing your comfiest pajamas, binge-watching some trashy show you hated just so you could get mad at it. Instead, here you were, standing outside some diner like an idiot, praying you wouldn’t get stood up.
‘Maybe I should just go home.‘
You chewed your lip nervously, shifting your weight from foot to foot. Nope. You made plans, dammit! You were going to follow through like a normal, well-adjusted adult who definitely wasn’t considering walking into traffic to escape a bunch of small talk. Even though it does sound like a good idea.
Taking a deep breath, you dragged yourself to the curb, glanced left and right like you were on a mission, and then crossed. The cool evening air bit at your skin, and the traffic was light, headlights sweeping by you in the quiet night.
Grillby’s was just a few steps away now, and with each one, your nerves twisted tighter.
‘Just breathe. It’s just a date. No big deal. No big deal. Just keep saying that.‘
You took another breath, trying to steady yourself before stepping inside. The warm orange glow hit you immediately, cozy and inviting. The air smelled faintly of something fried and delicious.
A few patrons looked up as the door chimed open. Some were monsters of all shapes and sizes, but they quickly went back to their meals or conversations, like you weren’t worth a second glance. That was… a relief, maybe? Or it felt like they were judging you for existing here. Yeah, probably that.
You hesitated, a flicker of doubt gnawing at your insides. You hadn’t been to a monster bar before. Well, at all. Actually, you hadn’t spent much time around monsters in general. You didn’t really have an opinion, though. Sure, they were probably cool, but this felt… different.
God, why was everything so awkward?
Okay. Move forward. Just find a seat. No one cares. You forced your feet to take you to the nearest barstool, plopping yourself down with a deep sigh.
The bartender—a figure who you were assuming was Grillby, considering the fire behind his glasses—looked over at you, his head tilting slightly, a silent, unspoken question hanging in the air.
What the—? Oh, right. Right. You had to order something.
Your brain caught up just a second too late, but you mirrored his head tilt like that was the thing to do.
‘Nice going (Y/N).’ You could almost feel the mental face palming.
The flames in his glasses flickered, and your face flushed a little. God, you were so smooth.
“Uh—” You cleared your throat, mind blanking as you tried to remember what you were even supposed to order. What did people drink here?
‘I don’t wanna ask for water… That'd be awkward. What if they don’t even have water here? Okay, don’t freak out, just order something… Anything.‘
Before you could overthink it any further, you blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “Uh, whatever wine you have is fine.”
He tilted his head again, a little amusement playing behind his fire-eyes, but he just nodded and went off to grab your drink.
You looked down at your phone. No text. Not yet. Your date was supposed to show up in fifteen minutes. That was… fine, right?
Yeah, right. You tried to reassure yourself that they were probably just stuck in traffic. No biggie. They’d text any minute now, right? Any minute now.
But as the seconds ticked by, your patience wore thin. You could feel the frustration creeping in. But no, don’t get mad. You had to stay calm.
But god, why had you agreed to this? A few minutes later, you checked your phone again.
Nope. Nothing. Zip. Zilch.
Fifteen minutes went by, then twenty. No one was texting you. Not even a “Hey, I’m running late” or “Sorry, I got held up.”
You let out a small bitter laugh, swirling the wine in your glass. Yeah. People totally forget about dates all the time. What a classic excuse. Right.
You glanced at the clock. Thirty minutes. Thirty minutes late. Not a single word from him.
You could feel your jaw tighten. Your foot bounced under the barstool restlessly, the nerves now replaced by… anger? Disappointment? A little of both. You sighed and set your phone face down. You didn’t even want to look at it anymore. What’s the point?
You had to stop yourself from checking your phone again. It was already sitting face up in front of you, screen dimmed, mocking you with its complete lack of notifications.
It’s fine, you told yourself. Just a date. It’s no big deal. Just move on. You’ve been stood up before, you can do it again.
—
Grillby was still doing his thing, moving around behind the bar like everything was normal. But that didn’t stop the crushing feeling in your chest. No one seemed to be paying attention to you—except, you could feel the looks. You could feel the pity. The quiet stares from the other patrons, like they all knew exactly what was happening. The kind of stares that said “Oh, that’s gotta suck.” And yeah, you were annoyed. Cause it did, it did suck.
You couldn’t even get mad anymore. The anger had faded into something worse: that sinking feeling of having been forgotten, of being left alone.
The whole room felt like it was closing in. You could almost hear the seconds ticking by. An hour—no show.
Still no fucking text.
Another glass. Why not? You raised the glass to your lips, and then it hit you. The whole thing felt so absurd. You were sitting here, getting more and more wasted, being stood up like a bad rom-com joke. A loud groan slipped from you as your forehead thudded against the counter.
You’d been stood up. Simple as that.
Your head thunked against the counter with a soft groan.
Goddammit.
“Another night wasted,” you muttered under your breath. Your face scrunched up into a grimace, and you let your shoulders drop. Great. What a great evening this was turning out to be. Couldn’t even get through a date without making a complete fool of yourself.
You stared blankly ahead, just letting the night drag on, hoping it would end without you completely imploding. But no—then the sound of footsteps interrupted your spiral.
“heya grillbz,” a lazy voice broke through the quiet bar. It sounded bored, casual. “gimme my usual.”
You blinked, looking up to see… a skeleton. A freaking skeleton sitting at the bar. He was slouched over, wearing some ratty ass jacket, looking like he just rolled out of bed.
’Damn bitch, you live like this?’
You blinked twice, like that was gonna help the situation.
Nope. Definitely a skeleton. Cool.
But you did your best not to stare, keeping your face neutral. This wasn’t your first weird thing to witness tonight, after all.
With a single motion, Grillby slid a bottle of ketchup across the counter, which the skeleton caught effortlessly. You didn’t even have time to process it before he took the ketchup bottle and started drinking from it. Like… like it was a soda. He tipped it back, chugging it like it was the best damn thing in the world.
Your brain short-circuited.
‘DID HE JUST DRINK THE DAMN KETCHUP LIKE IT WAS SODA? WHAT THE FUCK?!’
Your eyes were wide as you stared at him in complete disbelief.
The skeleton wiped his mouth er.. teeth? with the back of his hand, giving you a side-eye like it was completely normal.
“heh, somethin’ wrong, kid?” he asked, still holding the ketchup bottle like he wasn’t in some weird dream you were about to wake up from.
You just stared at him. “Did you just… did you just drink that?” you asked, voice flat. It wasn’t even a question at this point. It was just you being completely baffled.
“yeah,” he said, shrugging. “what of it?”
You stared at him, trying to process what you’d just seen. “I mean… that’s fucking weird,” you muttered under your breath, still trying to wrap your mind around the fact that you’d just watched someone drink ketchup like it was the most normal thing in the world.
The skeleton took another sip, unbothered. “eh, humans are picky about their drinks. you don’t get it, but some of us have… different tastes.”
Your fingers fidgeted in your lap as you tried to collect your thoughts. “I mean… it's definitely a choice,” you managed.
You stared at him for a few more seconds, still unsure whether you should laugh, run, or just pretend this conversation never happened.
The skeleton didn’t seem to care, though. He just stared at you, unfazed, taking another casual swig of ketchup.
“You—seriously—just drank ketchup. Like it was your favorite fucking soda or something. What’s next? Mustard shots?” you said flatly, still staring at him.
His unbothered demeanor made you wonder if you were the one in the wrong for reacting this way. Am I the weird one here?
“eh, i mean, mustard’s a little much,” he said casually, “but ketchup? classic.” He took another leisurely sip, clearly enjoying himself as he noticed the bewildered expression on your face.
You stared at him for a beat longer, then sighed. “I guess. But god, you’re weird.”
“heh, you’re not wrong, kid,” he said, leaning back in his chair. Then, his perma-grin widened at you in a way that made you think this was going to be even weirder.
“so,” he said with that signature casual tone, “don’t you know how to greet a new pal?”
You blinked, still trying to wrap your head around everything. “What? Like, a handshake or something?”
He extended his hand to you, that grin still plastered on his face. “yup” he said while popping the ‘p’
‘How the fuck did he do that??’ Another question for later.
You sighed—because why the hell not? You reached out and shook his hand. But as soon as your hands touched, the sound of a loud fart erupted from somewhere.
The noise just kept going.
And going.
…
You froze, eyes wide, staring at your hand—no way.There was no way you just got pranked like that.
He pulled his hand back with a deep chuckle.
“heh, the ol’ whoopie cushion in the hand trick. it’s always funny.”
And for a second, you were just… staring. Processing. There was no way this was real.
Then, like something snapped in your brain, you snorted. It was that ridiculous of a situation. And once that snort came out, you couldn’t hold back the laughter that followed.
The skeleton was still grinning, and honestly, you couldn’t even be mad. It was… it was pretty damn funny.
“names sans. sans the skeleton,” he said, clearly pleased with himself.
You gave him a once over, finally finding your words again. “No shit.” You couldn’t help but shake your head, still laughing. “I’m (Y/N), by the way.”
Sans casually slipped his hand back into his pocket, taking another swig of ketchup without a care in the world.
“So, kid, what’re you gonna order?”
You glanced quickly over the menu, the choices overwhelming. “Uh, honestly, I don’t know. It all looks good, I guess,”
“okay, okay, i’ll make it easy for ya.” He gave a little wave of his hand like it was no big deal and then casually called out, “two burgs with fries, grillbz! extra crispy.”
Grillby gave a quick nod, the flames in his body flickering in acknowledgment, and went off to get the order ready. You raised an eyebrow at Sans, still processing everything. “Two? You’re not even gonna let me get a word in before you just assume what I want?”
Sans shrugged with a grin. “you’ll like them. and if you don’t,eh, more burgers for me, right?”
‘That was giving very much “My source? Trust me bro” vibes.’
You shorted at the thought.
You crossed your arms, rolling your eyes. “Well, alright, I guess. You’ve got a point. Plus, I’m starving, so whatever.”
Moments later, Grillby came back, setting two plates of juicy burgers and crispy fries in front of you both. You picked up a fry, still staring at the plate in awe. You took a bite, and almost immediately your eyes widened. “Oh my god,” you mumbled, mouth full.
“This is delicious.”
Sans chuckled, clearly pleased by your reaction. “heh, i told ya it was good. grillby knows his stuff.”
You took another bite, but this time something felt… off. You froze mid-chew, a slight tingling sensation spreading across your mouth. You blinked a few times, looking down at the burger. “Wait… why is my mouth tingly?”
Sans leaned back in his seat with a playful glint in his eye sockets. “mmmmmagic,” he said, drawing the word out like it was the most obvious thing in the world and giving you a playful wink.
‘Now how the fuck did he do THAT??’
Another question for another time.
You blinked again, then shrugged, clearly too tired to question anything anymore. “Huh. Oh, guess that makes sense.” You took another bite, trying not to think too much about it.
He leaned back, glancing over at you with a grin. “You look like you’re about to ketchup to your feelings.”
Sans took another swig of ketchup.
You stared at him, blinking. “Did you… did you just…?” You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head.
”Jesus, that was bad,” you muttered, shaking your head as you finished chewing
Sans let out a small laugh before tilting his head and looking at you like he’d just noticed something.
“you look like you got stood up.”
You took another bite, chewing slowly as you processed his words. “Well, I did, in fact, get stood up,” you said flatly, not even trying to mask the hint of bitterness in your tone.
Sans raised an eyebrow.. browbone?, his grin faltering just a bit as he took in your tone. For a second, there was a flash of something almost sympathetic in his eyelights —something brief, but noticeable—before he shrugged it off. Anyone would feel bad for someone who got stood up.
“eh, whatever,” he said, dismissing it with a casual wave of his hand, his smile returning. “stand-ups happen. no use crying over it, right?”
You snorted and nodded, half-expecting him to throw in another pun, but instead, he just went back to sipping his ketchup like it was the most normal thing in the world. You weren’t sure if that was weirder than the first time.
You glanced at the clock hanging behind the bar, and your stomach sank as you realized just how late it had gotten. You were tipsy enough to feel the buzz, but sober enough to know you had to catch the bus.
You glanced at Grillby, who was wiping down the counter, and called over. “Excuse me, how much is this gonna set me back?”
Sans raised a browbone from his spot at the bar, still casually sipping his ketchup. “eh, don’t worry about it, kid.”
You stared at him for a second. “Wait, seriously? How much—?”
Before you could finish, Sans waved a hand. “put it on my tab, grillbz.”
Grillby let out a long sigh, his flames flickering slightly as he visibly deflated. You caught his expression, your eyes narrowing slightly but a smile still on your lips. “Are you sure, Sans?”
He shrugged, grinning. “yeah, don’t sweat it. besides, it’s the least i can do after all the ketchup jokes.”
You were about to respond when something in you made a decision. You dug into your pocket and pulled out 20 gold, sliding it across the counter toward Grillby. “Here. For the tip.”
Grillby looked at it, his flames brightening slightly in surprise, and then he gave a small nod. “Thank you.” he said softly, genuinely appreciative.
‘First time he’s spoken.. he has a nice voice.’
You stood up from your seat, a little wobbly but steady enough to walk, and gave Sans one last look.
“I’ll see ya around dude and hanks for the Skele-ton of ketchup puns,” you said with a smirk.
His eyelights seem to glow a bit more and his permagrin getting a smidge wider at the pun, Sans chuckled the sound low and easy. “yeah, yeah. don’t forget to take the bus, kid.”
With a sigh, you turned toward the door, stepping out into the cool night air. As the door swung shut behind you, you couldn’t help but think: well, that was definitely one the weirdest nights of my life.
And something told you, it probably wouldn’t be the last.
Oh well, that’s a problem for later you.