Chapter Text
It had been one of the mornings when Sans didn’t really wake up. Sure, he got out of bed, drank coffee and ate breakfast, but Grillby was positive Sans was still asleep when he left to meet his brother for lunch.
Grillby confirmed this when he spotted Sans’ hoodie on the couch, where he had forgotten it. He had somehow managed to walk out the door without the shirt he wore every single day of his life.
Lately they had been watching old black and white human horror movies, specifically the ones featuring badly made fake skeletons. Those movies made Sans laugh until his voice got husky and his throat cracked when he tried to speak. Sans acted exactly like one ofthose skeletons when he first got up, Grillby decided.
He picked up the sweater by the hood and examined it. It was actually a little too big for Sans, but that was probably what made it so comfortable. It was like the shirt equivalent of his slippers.
Grillby set it back down on the couch, took a few steps, and then stopped. He slowly turned back. It was a little big on Sans, wasn’t it?
He picked up the hoodie again and slipped it on. It fit, easily. He pulled the hood over his head and zipped up the shirt. Did he ever wash this? It smelled like ketchup.
He patted at the pockets and found them stuffed with condiment packets, bits of paper with illegible notes written on them, two whoopee cushions (one for each pocket), and Sans’ cell phone. He really hadn’t been with it that morning.
Grillby tried to unlock the phone, but Papyrus’ birthday didn’t work as a password and that was his only idea. He got his own phone and sent a message to Papyrus, telling him to let Sans know he’d forgotten half his things at Grillby’s apartment.
The restuarant was closed and it was his “day off,” so Grillby cleaned up his apartment and then started in on the mountains of paperwork that seemed to come along with owning a restaurant in the human world. He still had Sans’ shirt on when he went downstairs to the restaurant to check his inventory.
He was halfway inside the freezer, the one he kept human food in, when a bony finger tapped his back.
“hey.”
Grillby started and melted half the food in front of him.
“whoops. thought you’d hear me come in. bro said you had my phone.”
Grillby pulled it out of the pocket of Sans’ shirt and handed it over, and then stuck his head back in the freezer. He was probably going to have to throw some of this away, now. Human food was a pain to deal with.
“uh.”
Grillby started taking out the food that had been closest to him when Sans surprised him. Maybe he would just bring it upstairs and use it for himself. You weren’t supposed to re-freeze human food.
“uh, that’s my…”
Grilllby handed Sans the items that were the warmest and took the rest himself. Sans trailed after him as he went upstairs.
They dumped the food on the counter of Grillby’s kitchen, and Grillby started sorting through it.
“um. hey, uh.”
Grillby tipped his head to the side, curious.
“yeah, never mind.” He laughed, a little, like he had just noticed a joke.
Grillby shrugged and started getting out the ingredients he would need to actually make a meal out of the random items he had completely defrosted.
“you look good.”
Grillby nodded. The shirt was actually very comfortable. He knew he would have to give it back eventually, but it was his free day, so it didn’t matter that much what he was wearing.
Sans left to pick up Frisk from school, and when he came back Grillby was watching television. He still had the hoodie on. Sans started to say something, and then seemed to change his mind.
“…there is plenty to eat,” Grillby said, gesturing at the kitchen.
“ok.”
When Sans sat down next to him, he had a plate. Grillby had the channel switched to Mettaton’s cooking show, and he was shaking his head at it in disapproval.
Sans reached over and pulled the hood back up over Grillby’s head, and Grillby pretended he didn’t notice. He left it there.
Sans finished his dinner and set the plate down on the coffee table. Grillby felt Sans’ stare. He was probably going to have to give it back soon.
The couch shifted and Sans was suddenly on his lap, his expression unreadable. Sans reached into one of the hoodie’s pockets and started rummaging around. "my keys in here? no? must’ve left ‘em at the house.“
Grillby found them in the other pocket and handed them over.
"you’re being kinda nosy for a guy with no nose,” Sans said. "am i getting this back, ever?“
"…oh, did you want it back?“ Grillby asked, innocent.
Sans snorted and pressed his face against Grillby’s shoulder. "i mean, at some point.”
Grillby nodded and started to unzip it, but Sans put his hand over Grillby’s, stopping him.
“might as well leave it on. i’ll just remember it tomorrow morning. not like you’re sleeping in it.”
Sans underestimated him, but he nodded.
“any of your old boyfriends ever tell you, grillbz–” he broke off.
“…yes?”
Sans shook his head. "nah. never mind.“ He leaned back. "oh, hey.” He got out his phone. "say cheese.“
"…" He heard the camera take its picture.
"nice.” Sans put the phone away, and then rested his head back on Grillby’s shoulder. He apparently intended to stay there. Grillby put an arm around him and let him fall asleep where he was.