A finger drifted across the open contents of the blue duffle bag, pointing with each additional item. That finger belonged to Sans, who was hunched over, doing last-minute checks before the impending trip. Normally, Sans wasn't one for detailed checks. But this wasn't for any vacation trip. This marked the first, true interactions Papyrus would have with Alastor. Unimpeded.

Despite himself, Sans felt sweaty all of a sudden. Nervous.

His sweet, beautiful, amazingly innocent brother insisted on driving them there. So, for half an hour, it was going to be just Papyrus, Grillby, Alastor, and Sans. Locked in a moving vehicle together. Sans had tried to fight it, he had, but Papyrus gave him a look over the video call, and Sans couldn't say no to that face. Papyrus really did have Sans wrapped around his finger.

"... towels, sunscreen—sunscreen?" Sans startled, pausing before he frowned. "Alastor?"

A moment of silence crossed the threshold. "Yes?" Alastor's voice rang from the bathroom.

"Why the fuck do we have sunscreen?" Sans called back, leaning forward on his knees.

A sharp shuffle sounded, and a certain demon in a certain human form of his stuck out from around the bathroom door. His hair lightly coated in undried hairspray, a comb clutched between his fingers. Sans almost laughed at the absurdity of it.

"First off," Sans said, picking up the sunscreen. "I don't think we need this. I got bones, and from what I've noticed about your human body is that you don't really burn. We walked around in the sun for about six hours the other day, and you didn't even tan."

Alastor hummed to himself, stepping fully out of the bathroom and leaning against the door. Arms crossed, head tilted back, as if observing Sans. "Yes, well, it wouldn't make sense for a human to not bring sunscreen, would it?"

"But you're not a human."

"They don't know that."

"Yeah, they do. They just don't believe it."

Even though the man was wearing a simple button-down shirt and a long pair of dress pants, he still looked hauntingly predatory as he stalked toward Sans. As if he would snatch Sans up and drag him to hell if he could. The bracelet, all pink and sparkly, jostled at the movement. For a second, Sans debated putting a bell on it to collar Alastor like a cat before he jolted back to their conversation.

"You want me to be honest about everything regarding my... living arrangements?" Alastor asked, plucking the sunscreen from between Sans' hands. "But not use my powers at all in front of them, much less my demon form? Rather illogical, I must argue."

"There's a difference between them knowing and them seeing. I'd rather not freak out the kid."

The kid that fought Flowey in whatever form that flower took when he all but devoured those souls. Frisk was a lot of things, but being a coward was not one of them. Then again, Sans supposed being frightened of a demon didn't make anyone a coward. He ran out of the room the first time Alastor made his powers known, and he thought he was going to die when they met in person.

Alastor was just that type of man. Anyone would be unsettled when they saw him.

"There is a difference," Alastor continued, "between telling everyone I'm a demon and letting them see it. You just want to try and get them to believe you without having to supply proof. You want that confirmation that they care about you enough to believe you no matter what. What a narcissistic little thing you are."

"It's not my fault you made me this way," Sans grumbled.

"Made or found you this way?" Alastor challenged.

Sans would have punted the sunscreen into Alastor's face if he still had it. Sadly, though, the weapon remained inside of the demon's hands, carefully clutched just out of Sans' reach. So all Sans could do was reach up and flick Alastor's forehead, right where the man was shot.

Normal people would have been startled. Alastor simply shivered, his grin stretching more.

"Even if they don't believe me, it doesn't make them bad friends." Sans turned away from Alastor.

"Why, of course not! I wasn't going to suggest that at all!" Alastor said, like a liar. He hummed thoughtfully, twisting the sunscreen in his hands. "I just wanted to... mess with them, just a tad. A teensy amount. The smallest of amounts."

"Keep it at teensy. You should be very familiar with that size."

Alastor grinned. "I am, actually! I spend a lot of time with you, so it's something I'm very used to being around."

"Ah, but I'm fun-sized." Sans made a face at Alastor.

The radio demon returned the expression in full mockery, before patting Sans' head and plopping the sunscreen out of the bag. It remained out of the bag by the time Papyrus and Grillby got there, honking in his parking lot turned driveway.

"Ready?" Sans asked, both on the cusp of the doorway. One knob away from the oblivion of uncertainty.

"As I'll ever be," Alastor all but grunted.

Going to a wedding briefly, full of lights and food and other people as distractions, was one thing. Going to a private beach with his close friends with nothing but the sand and waves for entertainment was another. Alastor was about to get a full load of unrestricted, pure Papyrus energy.

Good luck Alastor.

"Alastor, Sans, hello!" Papyrus said, all but diving out of the car the moment he could. Grillby made sure to fully park it while Papyrus swooped up, and stole Sans into a hug Sans returned easily. There was no physical greeting to Alastor, simply a bright smile and a wave that Alastor returned. "I'm so happy we can all do this! Grillby and I adore beaches, and it's about time we go to one, nyeh heh heh!"

Alastor had to refrain from a flinch at Papyrus' call, no doubt annoyed by the high-pitched noise from a man the demon detested. Sans had to record it. Play it on loop whenever Alastor dared to piss him off.

It was a quirk of Papyrus' that the man picked up when he was in high school. Never quite shook it off. Admittedly, Sans had found it annoying back then. Then again, Sans had been balancing a lot of things in that particular time and wasn't able to really deal with the squeaky voice of puberty chiming when there was a human Underground he had to deal with. Then Sans got out of the hospital, and that became anything but a nuisance.

Almost losing that voice put into perspective how valuable it was to Sans.

"We're looking forward to it as well. It's about time I got to know you more!" Alastor agreed.

Papyrus' smile widened, pure and blissful. "I'm so happy you agree—here, come put your stuff into the car!" He moved to round the vehicle, Sans still clutched in a half hug, limp and compliant. "I'll help move some things so your bags can fit."

Sans eyed the mountain of bags in the trunk and nearly did a double take at the sheer multitude of stuff nearly piling out of the car. Bags upon bags upon bags, all for a three-day trip. There was no room for anything, not even hopes and dreams.

"Paps." That's all Sans needed to say.

His brother's face flushed. "I..." A scratch at the side of his face. "Wanted to make sure we had plenty of entertainment! I don't know what Alastor likes, and he's important to you, so I wanted to make sure he would have fun."

Ah. They totally were going to bombard him. Sucked to be Alastor.

Sucked to be Sans.

"I'm quite fine with any games, really," Alastor said. He peeked his head around the corner, duffel bag sagging. "I also don't mind simply relaxing on the beach with Sans, as I know that's what he's looking forward to."

"I'm not going to let you sit around all day, you lazybones," Papyrus chastised lightly, tone all too goofy to be serious.

They found room. Most certainly a hassle, for sure, but Alastor and Grillby worked together to reorganize a few of the top bags and push in Alastor and Sans' bag. A singular bag. Something Sans really prioritized in a future roommate. Sans wasn't necessarily one for cleanliness, fuck no, more so... enjoying people who didn't need a million things to function. Alastor always did take time to brush his hair or tidy up his suits but never did lag behind too long. It was nice to not have to sit on his hands and wait like he always did with Toriel and Asgore.

Maybe it was just a goat thing. They did have to polish their horns a lot.

For the next few days, making sure Alastor didn't do something inherently 'serial killer' was his first priority. And making sure Papyrus didn't grow to hate Alastor would also be a plus.

Alastor may establish himself as a charismatic dick, but he was a dick nonetheless. Papyrus might have a heart of gold, but at the end of the day, he did have a backbone. He knew when to set boundaries and could smell bullshit like a hunting dog. A common misconception people always assumed Papyrus to be lacking.

Alastor may have gotten away with murder, but Papyrus could probably hunt Sans through state lines if he put his mind to it. They were experts in their fields, and both overlapped in regard to him. A devastating graph Sans wasn't sure wouldn't ultimately end the world in some way.

Sans took his seat behind Grillby's chair, and Alastor took the one behind Papyrus. Grillby eased the car out onto the open stretch of dirt road just down from Sans' home, and a quick wave to his neighbor lounging on her front porch had them setting off.

"Is that the neighbor you've been talking to?" Papyrus asks.

"Yeah, it's Maurie. She's the one that gave me the welcome basket full of baked shit, remember?" Sans said, his chest warming at the memory. She really was a sweet woman.

"And she invited us both to dinner at her home. A lovely woman indeed, quite a fine chef!" Alastor added, rolling back his shoulders to loosen his posture. There was a tugging at Sans' wrist, and a look confirmed that Alastor's free hand had found its way over and begun absentmindedly rolling the beads between his fingers.

"That's so nice of her! I'm glad you've made so many friends in your new area, Sans!" Papyrus said, Grillby nodding along with him.

"I guess."

If two people counted as 'so many.' It was better than none, though, and Alastor was so much of an attention whore that he basically counted as ten people. Twenty if Alastor was in a grabby mood. Which seemed to be a lot nowadays.

The car bumped occasionally, the engine humming along nicely. Music swelled in the radio, light and quiet in favor of a conversation. Alastor himself was all propped up in his seat, relaxed just enough to comfortably play with Sans' bracelet and let his other hand lay idly in his lap.

"Alright, so," Papyrus started, turning around to face the two as best as he could. There was a notebook now on his lap, the pen markings swollen with glitter and bright, ambitious colors. "We're staying there for three days, so I organized so many activities for us to all do! Toriel said she managed to find a private cabin with a turtle nest out back, so we might see them hatch!"

"Shit, bro, that's awesome," Sans said, leaning forward. His hand dragged along. As did Alastor's.

"I know, right! We've gotten so many chances to see the natural world now that we're on the surface, and this is an experience of a lifetime! Especially since we didn't have any turtles other than monsters down there, like Gerson. I've never seen a natural turtle in real life before!" Papyrus's head snapped in Alastor's direction. "Do you like turtles, Alastor?"

"Of course I do. They're rather cute little things. I used to go down to the swamp and pick out a few small ones and gather them into a bucket with my friends before we'd have them race back into the water."

Alastor leaned forward, cupping his chin in his hand, perched up by his knees. There was a twinkle of familiarity in his eyes, tucked away behind the tinted, round glasses that make Alastor look almost dorky. In a handsome way, funnily enough.

"I've never watched any hatch, though. If we do get to see it, I'm sure it will be something to remember fondly," Alastor said.

"I agree!" Papyrus said. "I'm really hoping we can see it. If not, we still have plenty of other activities. I brought a bunch of board games, like Uno and Clue. I also brought a murder mystery kit. Oh, and Alphys brought her stuff to run a DnD session! Do you like DnD, Alastor? I've never played it before."

"Dnd? Since when the fuck has Alphys been into that?" Sans interrupted. "She's nerdy, but I didn't realize how far she fell."

"She watched this show on YouTube and got hooked," Papyrus said, a shrug escaping him.

Grillby lightly turned his head to join in on the conversation, his eyes never leaving the road. "She's been trying to trick us all into playing but wanted to get you in as well. We then planned this, and now she has a character sheet for Alastor as well."

"Ah, how kind of her," Alastor said, his expression straining ever so slightly. "I'll admit, I'm quite out of touch with that sort of thing; I'm not sure how to play."

"It's just imagination! We talk and roleplay, and it's great!" Papyrus giggled. "I'm playing a paladin."

"It suits you," Grillby said, tone on the cusp of flirtation.

"I agree, it does! Though I was also fine with being a bard if you didn't take it."

"It's called dibs. You should learn the merit of calling it sometime."

While the two of them practically made out with one another verbally, Sans tugged open his phone and looked up puns for DnD. He wasn't too familiar with the game either, so there was research to be done. When Alastor leaned over to join in this important learning moment, Sans didn't object. Tilting his body just enough, Sans gave Alastor a full view of the list he found as the two begin to idly scroll.

"I swear to the gods above, Sans, if you're looking up puns for DnD, I will come back there!" Papyrus said, startling the two.

"What? Me? Never," Sans replied. He swatted a hand toward Papyrus. "I'm a man of integrity and pun-less humor. Like this one joke I got for Tori. What do you call a snail that isn't moving?"

"Sans, please—"

"Oh!" Alastor snapped his fingers, looking at Sans. His grin full. "An escar-stay!"

"No!" Papyrus wailed dramatically. "Not him too!"

"He converted me. I was once a churchgoing man of God before Sans got his clutches into me. Now look at me," Alastor returned, just as dramatic, cupping an arm around Sans' shoulders. "Now I haunt him, and we make puns at one another over the radio. What a terrible fate that befell me."

"Should'a haunted someone else then, huh?" Sans snorted at him. "By the way, Paps, why don't you fill in Alastor in our friend group? I haven't been able to tell him a lot, so—"

"Oh my gosh, Sans, of course I can! Nyeh heh heh!" Papyrus squealed, spinning right back around to face Alastor again. "There's so much we need to catch you up on! So, Alphys is—"

Alastor was sure Papyrus more often turned around in his seat, facing the two in the back, than sat properly. That had been anticipated, of course, considering Sans had warned Alastor very deeply about how much effort Papyrus was going to put into trying to get to know the man. Alastor had women trying to court him with less rapt obsession back in his prime. Every time Papyrus' head swiveled back, zeroing in on Alastor, he wanted to snap that damn neck that allowed the skeleton to do so.

How he detested people like Papyrus. So clingy and bothersome. Obnoxiously loud and demanding of the room, no matter where he was.

At the very least, the two of them weren't alone. Sans' little question had Papyrus all but rambling about things Sans had already made Alastor privy to over the two-hour drive. By the time Grillby pulled up into the neat, solid pavement of the driveway, Papyrus was only halfway done with tales from their Underground years. The skeleton gawked at the house, utterly shocked to be there so soon, before whipping around and giving Sans the stink eye. Sans shrugged, his typical sly, knowing grin on his face. If anyone would know how to get Papyrus monologuing, it most certainly was Sans.

"Sans, you jerk! I had so many questions I wanted to ask Alastor. I made a list!" Papyrus huffed, very clearly jabbing his finger into the fourth page of the notebook. Alastor felt dread pool within him at how obtusely long that list was.

"We'll have time to go over it with him later. C'mon, Paps, give him a break. He only met you guys for a few hours last time. Gotta give Alastor some time to mentally prepare," Sans chirped, moving up to pat his brother's shoulder. There's a side wink he gave Alastor, quick and fleeting. "He's a little porcelain doll. He gets spooked easily."

"I sure do, Comic Sans. I indeed am quite fragile like that."

Alastor sure did have his work cut out for him that weekend, it seemed. Why didn't he anticipate Papyrus bringing a list of glittery questions to ask? This was a male, monster version of Charlie he was about to interact with. Of course there would be a colorful friendship questionnaire. It came with the territory.

Alastor made sure to stretch his sore legs out as he stepped out, his flip-flops landing onto the even-patterned concrete below their car. Despite it being winter elsewhere, the air was still relatively warm, yet not blisteringly so. The air dampened with the stench of the sea, salty and humid as it pressed around him. When Alastor sucked in a breath, he could practically taste the water. Free from chlorine or hell piranhas. The purest ocean he gazed upon in years.

Stretched out in front of the sea was a beach, rocky on both sides, with a small area closer to the waves marked off with yellow tape and a sign of a turtle pressed upright through the sand. Just past that was no doubt their private cabin, with a wraparoundporch and a soft blue paint coating. Cute, really. Beach-themed, most certainly. Tourist trap, absolutely.

When Alastor tuned back into the noise around him, other than the chirping of seagulls or the rolling waves, he could hear a familiar, deep voice complaining from just behind the car.

"... your bags, not ours," Sans was saying. Alastor could hear the groan in it. "I don't see why I gotta carry that."

"It's called helping, Sans! And it's good exercise," Papyrus' voice rang.

A huff escaped from his favorite skeleton. "I'm just saying, bro, sounds like I'm being conned into free labor. Alastor and I are gonna start a union if this keeps up."

There was a squawk from his least favorite living being. "You can't start a union if you aren't even employed for me!"

"Exactly, there's the issue. I want a paycheck."

"You get paid in brotherly love, Sans! And ketchup. I brought some extra ketchup."

They really did get along, in their own, odd way. Alastor has never really seen siblings interact, not to the firsthand degree that he'd seen Sans and Papyrus. They were different than others, most certainly, but that sibling bickering was something that couldn't be replaced. No matter how you changed up the dynamic, teasing was most certainly inbound.

It was a very good thing Alastor didn't have a sibling. His genetics were fucked in their own right; his sibling would have been a carbon copy of his insanity. Either they were born earlier and ended up drowning him in the tub, or Alastor would have been the eldest and would have smothered them with a pillow.

Sans was much more fit for a sibling than Alastor ever would be. He was much too selfish to not be an only child. And Sans was much too selfless to be an only child, even if he was loath to admit it.

"I'm sorry if Papyrus is too much for you," Grillby suddenly spoke up, and Alastor had to quickly turn on his heels to smile at the man. Nearly forgot he was there. Much too quiet for Alastor to get a full read on.

It was annoyingly unsettling.

"He's just excited. It's not often Sans makes close friends. Especially since Sans has said he plans to live with you at some point." Grillby continued. He stood there, next to the car and Alastor alike, staring up at the house before them. Two stories, cute shingles and a tidy, organized row of trash cans. "I hope you can understand. Papyrus just... cares, a lot."

"Oh, I understand," Alastor said, because he did. Alastor wouldn't have before; understanding this sort of frivolous thing would have been beyond him. Yet, there he was now, willingly walking into the lion's den of social situations just so he could show off how close he and Sans were. "Sans is much the same way towards Papyrus. I had to practically hold him on the way back from the wedding."

There was a sharp bump against Alastor's rear, and he didn't even need to turn to see who did it. He did, regardless, because any opportunity to look at Sans and bask in his presence was one Alastor would take.

"Oops," Sans grinned up at him, so short compared to him, fun-sized all the way.

"Oops," Alastor returned, tugging over Sans' hood and covering his eye sockets. "My hand slipped."

Sans hit him in the back with a duffle bag once more, and Alastor snagged the weapon away from Sans' grubby little fingers. The man wasted no time in lifting up his hands, shooting Papyrus a look over his shoulder. "Oh no, Paps, Alastor volunteered to carry all of the bags! How nice of him!"

"Sans, help carry the bags!"

Sans, now thoroughly bullied by his brother, relented and grabbed two bags.

The four took their time carrying things in, as they were the first group to arrive. Alastor didn't mind the monotonous work, as it gave him something to focus on as Papyrus rambled on about all of the activities he brought for them to do. A net and some balls, plenty of board games, and icebreakers. Alastor, thankfully, came at a time when icebreaker games had yet to exist. He hadn't ever thought he would have to endure one, yet his lucky streak may end rather soon.

They were halfway done with the bags in the back of Papyrus's car when a new, shiny black car rounded the corner, honking at the group. Judging by Papyrus' overzealous reaction, it was Undyne. His assumption was proven true when the woman all but barrel-rolled out of the car the moment it parked, and sucked Papyrus into a hug where she swung him off his feet.

"Papyrus, my man! It's been too long since I've seen you!" The fish monster yelled, twirling on her feet with him in her grasp before she finally set him free. Undyne pulled back, hands clasped onto Papyrus' shoulders, looking firm and smug. "We're gonna have the best beach vacation, you hear?"

"I do hear!" Papyrus said, pumping his fists.

And so did Alastor. She was quite a loud woman.

"Oh, that's Alastor!" Undyne said, sharply turning around Papyrus to greet Alastor. Properly, this time. She had been rather intoxicated last time they exchanged greetings. "It's nice to see you again, bud! We got a lot of plans this weekend! Are you ready to get your blood pumping and body sweating!"

"I... suppose?" Alastor answered, eyebrow arched.

"Hell yeah! Let's do this!" Undyne shouted, pumping a fist into the air. "We gotta get you on my team if anything happens, you hear?"

"I most certainly do," Alastor replied, lips tight and tugged thin.

Alastor had heard plenty about all of Sans' friends. Papyrus, naturally, came often in stories. Following him was Grillby, a local where they used to live Underground with a healthy work and home balance.

Undyne herself was more estranged from Sans. Not that they weren't friendly, more so that she came with Papyrus instead of Sans. Much closer to him and his preferences than Sans'. The leader of the Royal Guard, which equated to the monsters military services. A high-ranking woman who lost her eye when she was younger due to a human Underground, much in the same way Sans had. Despite their shared common ground in that regard, neither of them spoke much about it or bonded due to that fact. Where Sans had shriveled up with trauma, Undyne had flourished with determination. It would be hard to find a mutual understanding from such differing outcomes.

In conclusion, someone Alastor didn't have to worry about in the slightest.

Alphys, though, was different territory.

An old co-worker of Sans', who shared several ramen-filled nights talking over their anxieties and fears. A woman run by her intense paranoia. And a high sex drive, Sans had admitted briefly. Not that he necessarily needed to, as Undyne and Alphys were rather open in that regard.

She was his closest friend before Sans had met Alastor. The previous best friend. Not bestie, that title was reserved for Alastor and Alastor alone, but still held within a high enough standard to annoy him.

He'd like to say that he wasn't jealous, but Alastor was. Alastor never even had anyone come near the best friend title, not in his entire existence. Sans did. Sans, even if he wasn't fully open compared to others, still had an easier time making genuine connections with others compared to Alastor. A man who could go out and seek companionship where Alastor couldn't. Even if Alastor claimed the title of bestie, a title none other could hold with that bracelet of his, he still found himself bristling at the seams at the thought regardless.

And, more importantly, was if this woman knew her place or not. She had Undyne. She didn't need to go and claim Sans too, like a parasite.

He had seen her briefly at the wedding, and now she looked far more put together than before. Wearing a simple blouse, flip-flops, and a sunhat. Short and plump with a thick pair of glasses, no doubt as blind as a bat. The woman smiled at him and nervously waved, giving out a stuttered greeting that Alastor returned with lacking sincerity.

"It's nice t-t-to meet you," The woman said, her stutter all evident. A medical condition, both Papyrus and Sans had warned him about it. A thick, yellow, scaled tail flicked behind her. Wagging, almost. "Sans t-told me a lot about you! I'm so happy you g-g-guys are friends; he really likes you."

"Oh." Alastor blinked. "Thank you."

The woman nodded and then went to join Undyne's side, clutching her girlfriend's hand in her own.

And that was it. There was no backhanded comment or subtle remark on their history. Alastor did know that Sans described them all as objectively good, but he had been expecting some competition of some kind. Papyrus did deliver, albeit muted and much more full of joyous applause and protective nature over anything like that. He thought Alphys would have come forth with the shots, but she seemed much more subdued and happy over it.

Then again, he didn't really have to worry. Everyone here was attending with a pair. Alastor was Sans', they'd be sharing a room together. They were marking themselves as a duo, unique and claimed in their own right.

This back and forth of Alastor's greedy mental state was going to last three whole days.

He should have asked Sans to bring headache medication.

Thankfully, due to Undyne's more distant relationship with Sans and Alphys' lack of urgency, Alastor was left relatively alone as they carried in the rest of the bags. In fact, he had enough breathing room with the two new distracting presences to get a proper read on the new cabin he was going to be staying at for two nights and three days.

Cozy, admittedly. Had that beach feel to it. Sullen carpets recently vacuumed, coral-colored with the streaks from the cleaning still etched into them. Along the walls were littered several pictures of the shore or of aquatic life, all plain and fairly equatable to stock pictures. Past the basic couches and the matching table, brown and muted in color, was the kitchen. An open floor design for optimal movement, making the air feel fresh and light despite how stagnant it must get in here.

Alastor breathed in. The ocean flooded his senses; being indoors seemed to not slightly deter the smell from following him in.

It was nice.

Sans nudged him with his shoulder when he stepped inside, dropping the last duffle bag with a huff.

"Whatcha think, demon boy?" Sans asked.

"Cozy." That's what Alastor settled upon. There was no better word for it. It simply was just that.

Cozy.

"Yeah," Sans said, with a smile so soft it makes it even the tiniest bit cozier. "It is."

Papyrus and Undyne were talking amongst one another as they trailed in after Sans and Alastor, three bags dangling from Undyne's arms, stuffed with whatever a lizard and fish monster would require. Grillby and Alphys trailed behind them, Alphys' tail wagging like an excited little puppy while Grillby clicked away on his phone.

"It looks like rooms are first come, first serve," Grillby announced to the group. "Some rooms have two twin beds, and some have one queen bed."

That was to be expected. Some of them were couples, and some of them weren't. Alastor didn't see any issue with it.

Yet the whole room gained a veil of silence after those words. Everyone turned to quietly look at Grillby, the flame monster staring down at the phone in silence. Alastor glanced around at their faces, each more solemn and tired than the last. As if the fun and relaxation of before had been dampened within seconds.

"How many?" Sans asked quietly.

A moment passes. Another shortly after that, where Grillby's shoulders rolled back. "Two queen beds."

There were five 'pairs' in total. Grillby and Papyrus, Sans and Alastor, Undyne and Alphys, Toriel and Frisk, and Asgore with his new girlfriend. She was invited in much the same way Alastor was, a new addition to be prodded at with questions and bonding. Someone unable to make it to the wedding, now an accompaniment for this upcoming weekend adventure.

Five rooms. Two queen beds, three sets of twins.

Alastor felt his grin sharpen ever so slightly.

Three couples, two beds for couples. They were one short.

First come, first served.

Asgore had already messaged the group chat previously that he would be half an hour late before they settled on the booking of the cabin.

"She wouldn't," Papyrus exclaimed, giving a bright and somewhat strained smile. "I think it might have just been an issue with the booking, or maybe they only had two queen beds?"

Alastor had to bite his tongue to refrain from laughing at the situation. What a sly little wench this Toriel was. Not as sly as she thought she was being, considering everyone who knew her instantly sniffed out her little trick. Pathetic of an attempt, but a humorous one indeed. Sowing drama into the trip right off the bat, much too insecure to simply let it be.

Alastor certainly hadn't expected it. What he knew of Toriel was bits and pieces Sans splurged on. An old friend of his that helped him out in a desperate time. He felt nearly disappointed he hadn't pushed for more information.

"She would, she totally would," Undyne huffed, baring her teeth. She turned on her heel to look at Alphys, the fins that made up her ears rising with agitation. "I told you she would do this. You saw how passive-aggressive she was when I invited his girlfriend, I told you guys—"

"We don't know for sure. It might have been a booking error, and not all rentals give an option for customizing beds for rooms," Grillby pointed out. A hand reached up to pinch at the arch of his nose. "Let's save one of the couple rooms for Asgore; Papyrus and I can sleep on twins. I have to have a fireproof sheet anyways."

"No, it's fine, U-Undyne and I can do the twins," Alphys stuttered out, adjusting her glasses.

"You don't have to, Alphys; we'll be fine being separate."

"Exactly!" Papyrus says, "Grillby and I are fine sleeping in separate beds for a few days. It's not the end of the world."

Ah, the sweet, sweet smell of drama. A petty little act wasn't what Alastor had expected in the slightest when he arrived here, and yet, the air simply was so much more delectable in seconds. Now he could hardly wait for this weekend and all of the aching annoyances that were bound to spawn.

All friend groups had cracks, of course. People who let their bad sides take precedent, those who couldn't keep still with harsh remarks or bitter decisions. Naturally, a friend group with two divorced people was bound to have that sort of drama. And Alastor got a front-row seat to it all. If Sans wasn't involved with these people, didn't care about them and cherish them as equals, Alastor would have insisted the two of them should share a bucket of popcorn and watch it unfold around them.

But Sans' expression soured, all bitter and puckered. As puckered as bones could get.

"Why don't Sans and I take the other queen bed?" Alastor offered, raising a hand. Once all eyes were upon him, the man made sure to flash his typical charming smile. "Asgore and his girlfriend can get the second, and we get the first. So instead of one couple having to be awkwardly on twins, it could be two. Just to stop all of this arguing, of course."

Not the most perfect solution, but one better suited for their circumstances. One that no one objects to, all nodding along amongst each other. Easily convinced, per usual.

"Will you two be okay with that?" Undyne asked, a finger pointing back and forth between Sans and Alastor. "With your whole... anti-touch and anti-sex and anti... fucking?"

Sans replied, "Sharing a bed together does not immediately lead to fucking, Undyne, contrary to you and Alphys' habits."

The fish monster huffed and stuck out her tongue at him while her cheeks flushed red. Sans couldn't hold back a laugh at that, the sound warm and bubbly.

That's what they decided to follow, thus leading to Alastor and Sans dragging their bags toward the second couple's bedroom. Their room was a lavish one-bed, one-bath placement with the corner walls hugging in on them. To the bed's left, a small, quaint balcony sat. Fake potted plants accompanied the plain painting decorations.

The zipper of his duffle bag, a faint red with a black outside, felt warm under his fingers as he tugged it open. Hell-made. His clothes that he tugged out were not, yet were still exact to his measurements and preferences. Red or brown in color, and not revealing in taste. There was a drawer on the right side of the bed he tugged open, and in they went, neatly folded. Alastor let his powers manifest, small and dainty, to neatly tug them into a more preferable organization while he closed it. Sans said not to be obvious with his demon antics. He didn't say any whatsoever.

Out in the hall, behind the closed door, he could hear muffled whispers between Alphys and Undyne. The two women mumbled, words cut and snipped.

Meanwhile, to his left, Sans dragged open the drawer, dropped all of his clothes (all of them together: underwear, a hoodie, his swimsuit, and his pants and socks) into the empty space (unfolded), and promptly kicked it shut.

Alastor felt a part of himself die just watching.

When they lived together in hell, he was going to do their laundry. He's seen Sans wash his clothes. Never separated the whites, tossed everything in with random measurements, and then left it in the washer for a few hours, soaking in the mildew of leftover germs, before finally switching it to the dryer, where it remained for the rest of its days. It annoyed him to no end.

Alastor was going to do their laundry. And he was going to fold it. And put it away. Sans could sit there and make jokes if he wished to participate, but Alastor didn't think the man knew how to fold.

Fingers drifted across the sheets as he further took in the room. Sharing a bed wouldn't be an issue. He's slept in the same bed with Sans once or twice before. If anything, he was sure Sans would be the one at a loss for the shared bed.

Sans slept like a rock. A heavy, unmoving boulder that slumped and lay there until the end of his days. Not the heaviest of sleepers; light enough to be roused if his environment fussed enough.

Alastor was the fuss in the environment.

Tossing and turning was natural to him. He couldn't quite sit still, and needed to discover the most comfortable position every twenty minutes. During the rare times Alastor and Sans shared a bed for their sleepovers, each on their own designated sides, Alastor has always managed to make Sans grumble from his movements.

Alastor had this sleeping pattern for nearly one hundred years, and he was certainly not going to stop now. It'd just have to be another one of their minor disagreements. Considering the likelihood of them sharing a bed in hell was in the negatives, it wouldn't matter in the long run.

They would be sharing a room, though. Or adjacent ones. Either could work. Alastor did like the idea of sharing a room, but at the same time, it meant Sans had access to his face and markers without anything impeding him. That was a risk he'd have to contemplate.

There was a sudden knock on the door, and just as inconsiderate as Charlie was, Alphys popped her head in without bothering to wait for a response.

"H-Hey guys," Alphys said suddenly, appearing in their doorway with the click of her shoes. A short lizard monster, a scientist on the same level as Sans, with an interest more in robotics than quantum physics. "Looks like we're a-across from one another."

"Oh, heck yeah. Hallway buddies," Sans said.

"It's s-super cool that you're t-tagging along, Alastor. We've a-all been wanting to meet you for a-a-a-awhile now." Alphys sucked in a breath, rubbing at the back of her neck. "H-Hopefully this all isn't t-too much f-for you."

"Oh, don't fret, darling, it won't be at all. I'm quite used to popping in for events and such—why, my acquaintances back home are more impulsive than you lot. At least I had more than an hour to prepare for today," Alastor said, placing a hand on her shoulder after he walked over. "And I'm very happy that you all want to include me. I feel honored. I care about Sans deeply, and being considered as a close friend of his is rewarding in its own right."

"Aw, I'm blushing," Sans said, not a single inch of a blush on his face.

"That's a very interesting colored blush. Absent and bare. I'm so happy you enjoy me enough to lie to save my feelings."

"Yep. Totally. You can sleep in the tub, by the way."

"Only if you sleep in the toilet. If I cannot roll over and give you hilarious jokes at two in the morning, what good am I for?"

Their audience of one snorted, giggling into her hand. She perked up when she realized she was standing there awkwardly without contributing to the conversation, her face as red as Sans said his was.

"I-I-" She gripped at the ruffles of her blouse. "Uh, Igottogo-"

She was gone back to her room the next second, red as a tomato.

"You know," Alastor said after a moment, turning to look at Sans. The skeleton, unloading towels onto a towel rack, turned towards him. Half turned, as his hands continued to work at tugging out their towels. "Everyone who talks to me acts like it's a miracle I'm here. Are you really that socially inept outside of me?"

Sans choked on his breath and bunched up Alastor's towel in his hand. "Oops," came from him as it free fell from his hand onto the ground.

A shadow of him quickly closed their door before rounding toward the towel. Plucking it from the carpet, the shadow folded over itself and dropped it off onto his designated rack. Sans quickly stole a head pat toward the creature before it dissipated.

"It's not an insult; I am genuinely interested. You have told me about your anxiety over humans, but they're speaking like I'm a gift from God. Which I'm most certainly not. Though I don't object to being treated with such respect, I am curious."

The group didn't believe in the slightest that Alastor was a demon. They weren't aware of his powers or status or anything of the sort. There was nothing for them to knowingly gain from him. They were curious; the curiosity twisted and warped to such a degree that it was almost unrecognizable.

A heavy, long sigh dragged from Sans. "I just... don't make new friends very often. I've had the same friends for... forever." Sans shrugged. "I dunno, I guess they just got worried about me. Especially since I moved out to fuck-all nowhere and didn't talk about anyone new for months. Then suddenly you popped up, and I guess they just latched onto you. They're just worried—especially Paps. I think he's gonna be on you for the next three days to make sure you're good for me."

That was expected. Alastor was the person who Sans spent most of his time with, and was the closest nonrelative the man had. Heavens knew that Charlie and her group of hostage friends all but jumped onto Alastor's personal life despite him being very explicit in their lacking connections.

Except for when he was trying to piss off Lucifer, of course.

"I find it curious they're that obsessed with a new friend of yours."

"They're just worried. You ain't that special."

Alastor would beg to argue, but he instead settled for sitting on the edge of the bed to watch Sans sift through the bedding and tug out the tucked-in sheets. The slow, methodical movement of his background noise aided Alastor's wandering mind.

He really was curious how much of this was caution and interest, and how much of it was nosiness.

Entertainment while he endured this trip, he supposed. A trade. Though Alastor knew he didn't have permission to go and ruin it, his demon abilities were firmly a 'no-no' in public, but a few words here and there to spawn some minor petty arguments amongst the group would be interesting.

As long as he refrained from going overboard, of course. Making Sans upset would ruin this whole trip.

It was an odd mesh of a group. There was Sans, perfectly imperfect in all of his skeletal ways. A scientist who worked as a part-time comedy writer, with a leaning towards vile foods and a backstory tragic enough that Charlie would house him in seconds if he shared it. It made sense people wanted to include him in their friend group. He was quite wonderful, after all. Entertaining in his own right, which simply puts others to shame, able to bounce with Alastor in ways none ever have or will. A fine choice.

Then there's Papyrus. Not many people typically included their siblings in their friend group, especially not siblings far younger than them. Sans was in his mid-thirties, and Papyrus was in his late twenties. That was certainly a gap. But this was Sans he was thinking about. Practically worshiping his brother was just... part of him. A foundation you couldn't pluck away, lest the ivory tower would fall.

Another odd point to linger on for their group. Having one's mentor they've known since they were a child included was certainly an odd choice. And then adding in the man's ex-wife was another choice Alastor didn't typically see.

Undyne and Alphys made sense with the two. Undyne had been friends with Papyrus ever since he tried to join the Royal Guard, and Alphys and Sans used to work together. The two women had a long-lasting crush on each other before Papyrus helped them admit it, and they began to date. Alphys' family had some sort of tradition about proposing on the first day of the fifth year, Sans had explained that way back when first introducing the pair to Alastor through photos. Thus why they had yet to be engaged despite dating longer than everyone else.

Throw in Frisk, the random child who saved their species, and you had their stew of a friend group. Odd leftovers in the fridge mixed together on a night the chef was feeling rather lazy.

What a group indeed.

Good people, in a broad sense, but good people with flaws. Toriel's was her lacking leniency towards drama with her ex-husband. Papyrus with his obvious need for social attention. Alphys' anxiety. Undyne's clear siding with Asgore, her pseudo father figure. Grillby's lack of action.

Sans was flawed, but he was perfect even with those.

Trying to find his own amusement wasn't going to be as challenging as he thought. Balancing it with keeping this trip a success, though, would be.

"Is Toriel often like that?" Alastor asked.

Sans' shoulders hitched ever so slightly, and he gave a strained grin. "Yep."

"Fantastic. I'll keep an eye on her, then," Alastor hummed.

"Don't do anything."

He craned his body to the side, a horrific crack settling into the air as Alastor's body hung adjacent to Sans'.

"Little ol me?" Alastor asked, fluttering his eyelashes. "Why, I would never. Go too far, that is. If she does anything, that's entirely on her."

"Yeah, it is, just don't... egg her on. Tori really loves getting on Asgore's case, and this is the first time we're all meeting his new girlfriend, and just—I want it to go well, you know?"

"Of course."

"I mean it. You make Paps cry from drama, and I'll cook you alive. Deer stew. Yum."

"Save me a bowl, would you?"

The trip was going admittedly well so far, even with the minor hiccup caused by Toriel's booking mishap. Alastor never vacationed much as a human or in hell, so this was a mostly new experience for him. And he was enjoying it so far. Sans and Grillby distracted Papyrus enough in the car to make it bearable, and the bed incident was hilariously petty enough to make his smile genuine for the foreseeable future.

Toriel and Frisk arrived soon after Sans and Alphys were done unpacking, both dragging behind simply packed suitcases. Toriel, donning a sunflower-patterned dress and a straw sun hat, waved eagerly at Alastor and Sans lounging on the couch. Having escaped the wrath of Papyrus' questions by a sudden disappearance of the paper, causing the poor man to have to search through each and every bag of his to see where he misplaced it. How unfortunate.

The two minutes of solitude and relaxation they had were heavenly. Now Alastor had to act again.

Alastor had always been so used to acting his entire life. And don't get him wrong, it was simply so damn amusing, but being able to be purely himself with Sans was a comfort he grew to enjoy.

"Sans, hello, hello!" Toriel sang out, her vocal cords ringing with the noise. The goat monster noticed Alastor and paused, perking with a smile at the sight of him. "Alastor, you are here! We were worried you wouldn't be able to make it!"

"Of course I would. I am a man of my word, after all," Alastor chuckled, moving to stand and sweep across the room. A handshake was in order for the woman who already soured Sans' mood, after all. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance again. Sans and I were simply ecstatic for this trip."

"Whoops, my secret is out," Sans grunted. "Frisk, cover yer ears; he's gonna spill all of my hopes and dreams."

"They're all ketchup related," Alastor said.

Toriel giggled as Sans huffed. "Spoilers, bambie. Damn, now it won't happen."

"I believe that logic only applies to birthday candles, dear," Toriel said, tilting her head around Alastor to smile at Sans.

"Same family tree."

Little Frisk, the human savior of them all, stares up blankly at Alastor. It was nearly unsettling. Nearly.

Maybe if Alastor were a tad more sane, he'd find concern from it. Alas, sanity was a privilege he had yet to experience, so all Alastor could do was the usual. Grin down and find it all so amusing.

"Hello, little one," Alastor greeted. "Excited for the beach?"

Frisk doesn't say anything, their gaze narrowing ever so slightly.

"They're a bit shy," Toriel said, waving a hand. Alastor could hear Sans' confusion without even needing to confirm his facial expression. Alastor has heard plenty of stories of Frisk, the twenty-nine hotdog-stacking prodigy that went on a pity date with Papyrus and flew a jetpack on live television. Plenty of descriptive words could color this child's image, but shy? Not one Alastor would've used, personally.

"Augustin."

That's all Frisk said, with their tiny, muted voice. A murmur more than a declaration, yet so much more powerful than one all the same. At that single word, at that single confession, Alastor felt an eyebrow arch and his chest tingle with twisted excitement.

"In the flesh," Alastor laughed.

Sans coughed into his fist behind him, sounding ever so strained.

At least one of them had bothered to try and research him. Had followed the bread crumb-ridden trail Sans painstakingly made for the past few months. Alastor would have been disappointed if none of them bothered to. It didn't take much effort; the internet was simply so vast and accessible these days. If he had bothered to try this back when he was alive, he would be stuck up in the library for the entire weekend, wasting away the good weather and delicious food.

A bit odd the child was the only one so far, but considering Frisk's track record thus far, this is quite on brand.

The question was, what would that small child do with such information? They hadn't spilled it to anyone else yet. He wondered if they'd slip up that afternoon or not.

Then again, no one tended to believe the words of a child. How imaginative they were.

"Quite glad you know my last name; you do keep up with research! How sweet." He cooed at the small little distraction, patting their head twice before he spun on his heels. "Toriel, I would simply be delighted to help carry your bags, if you wouldn't mind."

"Oh, you flirt," Toriel giggled, rolling her head over to glance at her single suitcase. "If you would, that would be wonderful!"

Alastor does, because his Mama raised him right. Giving one last, long look at Frisk, Alastor rounded Toriel and claimed the luggage to be carried. The conversation he carried on with her was short and, frankly, meaningless. Consisting of nothing but simply memories of the beach back in his day before he dropped the bag onto her bed and returned to Sans' side, who was having some snippy conversation with Frisk.

The human gave Alastor one more look when he returned before they scampered off to wherever children who suspect a demon was on their trip go.

"Quite a smart kid, that one," Alastor pointed out.

Sans chuckled, drawn out and nearly forced. "Yeah. Always real smart. Got Alphys and Undyne together and, ya know, saved the monster race from underground imprisonment. They're gonna go places when they get older."

"Yes, I could quite imagine!" Alastor said, plopping down onto the couch beside Sans. Ensuring that his entire body weight draped across the man, as it should. "Especially when they get a driver's license."

"Heh, yeah, they'd be going lots of places. Mainly on grocery trips for Tori. She hates trekking down to the grocery store. It's a whole thing."

"Ah, the woes of modern-day privilege. What a shame."

Sans' reply was cut short when the front door pressed open, a new, hulking figure ducking down sheepishly to avoid his horns from catching on the average-sized door frame. A man still not fully acclimated to his height despite growing with it. Behind him, a dainty woman followed suit, a bookbag dangling from her shoulders in much the same way a bright smile did from her lips.

Asgore and Lilac.

Alastor heard of Asgore. The King of Monsterkind, a man more known amongst monsters as a nuzzling champion than for anything else of note. The kind of soft and pushover personality that got bullied in middle school.

Toriel and Asgore both had impacts on Sans' life. When Sans stowed away underground, everything was a little too much, and his depression was a suffocating, cruel thing, Toriel's voice on the other side of the door helped support him in the roughest of days. Asgore came earlier, a man who gave Sans and Papyrus a chance for a life their parents deaths couldn't. A man Sans would very distantly claim as a guardian, nowhere near a Father, though.

Sans wasn't someone who suited having parents. That's what he had claimed, anyways.

Alastor begged to differ, considering how lovely his Mama was, but one look at his own Father showed how the universe balanced these sorts of things out.

"Hello everyone!" Asgore announced, hoisting two bags underneath his arms. The man was primed with muscles, and despite the plain Hawaiian shirt and neatly manicured nails, his strength spoke for itself. A man of contradictions.

"Hey, Gorey!" Sans said, perching up over the couch back and giving a heavy wave.

"Sans, hello!" Asgore's eyes danced around for a moment, landing upon Alastor as his lips perked up. "Howdy to you, Alastor, correct?"

"Correct indeed, and a returned howdy as well, Asgore. A pleasure." Alastor's eyes snatched onto the woman standing beside the King, fully confident in her stance. "And this lovely miss must be Lilac?"

"Yep! That's me!" She giggled, rubbing at the back of her neck. "It's a pleasure to meet you both."

The woman stood just below the doorknob, as short and plump as Sans was, with bushy green skin and petaled hair. A flower monster, it seemed. Suiting for the green-thumbed man beside her. The flowers, naturally, matched her namesake.

"I'm so excited to see the beach! I've gotten my vines all in a tangle over trying to see it for months! It's about time we saw the sun setting over the waves!" Lilac burst out, practically clapping her hands from excitement. "I know it's my first time meeting you all, but this is going to be fun as all heck. I'm sure of it."

"Ditto," Sans added. "My bro, Papyrus, is super cool. He planned out a whole itinerary for the three days. I think he time-stamped this entire evening."

Her eyes grow as wide as saucers, gleaming with excitement. "That is so cool! Tell him I said thank you—ah, I'll tell him myself, actually! I've got so many people to introduce myself to!"

Alastor has only met two of Asgore's recent or past relationships, and the man clearly had a type for stronger-willed women. Confident in their presence. Such an odd contradiction from the times Alastor grew up in. Where any woman who had a presence was to be scorned. He remembered his Pa taking him aside, on one of the few 'Father-son advice' snippets, with careful advice regarding the state of what his future woman should look like. A quiet, dainty thing that looked real fancy on his arm and had supper ready. The quieter, the better, he had insisted.

Alastor was quite content that times had changed.

Lilac quickly snatched up and planted a kiss onto Asgore's cheek before rushing down the hallway, eager to make herself known amongst this friend group. Alastor would have to keep her in mind if this relationship stuck around, considering how much history Asgore and Sans had. That type of relationship wouldn't deteriorate so easily, so anyone important to Asgore was important to Sans.

And vice versa, judging by how Asgore recovered from the gross romantic gesture and swept across the room to the couch the two were sitting upon.

"I'm happy you finally brought Alastor around," Asgore said, giving Alastor a toothy grin. His voice was a deep, purring type, rumbling from his throat. "I'm happy you found a partner, one that suits your preferred living style. You deserve it."

"I could say that back at ya, fluffybuns."

"Then I suppose this weekend getaway will be a weekend full of congratulations for us both then."

"Papyrus will have that covered, I'm sure," Alastor pointed out sharply.

Asgore's smile turned into a knowing one. "Oh, yes, he certainly will. I—now that you say that, I should go make sure he doesn't ask every question known to mankind before she can get her stuff in our room. Where is our room, may I ask? I'm assuming we got last pickings."

"Yep. Sucks to be late. We still saved ya a good room, though. Just down the hall, on the left—it's next to ours. In between mine and Alphys' room."

Guess saving Asgore from knowing about Toriel's little mix-up was Sans' plan, and Alastor followed suit, keeping his mouth shut and his smile tight.

None of this mattered. If they entertained him or not, if drama became center stage or was quietly shuffled aside. Alastor wasn't here for any of it, even if he did find it quite hilarious. He was here to show off, to confidently take the other spot in Sans' room and show everyone important to Sans their ranking. That they simply didn't have what they had.

Looking over at Sans, willingly sitting beside Alastor despite all of his friends gathered in the building, only further cemented that. His bestie certainly was a trophy to parade around, and Alastor could tell it went in the other direction as well.

Sans grinned at him, knowing and understanding, and his insides bristled to latch on and never let go.

Not that he needed to worry about that anymore. Alastor already did ages ago.

Sans' very, very cool brother managed to gather everyone in the living room shortly after Lilac and Asgore arrived. Sans hadn't even had to move an inch for the meeting, which was great. Even if Alastor was all but perched upon Sans like a parasite, it was pretty damn comfortable. Warmth seeped into his bones, greedily now his. Fueling his lazing about, as Papyrus pulled out a whiteboard he likely packed, presenting the rest of the day's plans for the group to go over.

So far, they had been here for half an hour, and things seemed to be going well. Sans liked it.

Alastor should definitely keep this up. Especially since Frisk knew about him.

Sans should've expected that. Of course the kid would've snooped after the wedding. Part of Frisk's blood was to snoop until nothing was left. No corner left unturned. No conspiracy too far to follow.

He hadn't lied once to his friends or brother, and didn't plan on doing it now. If Frisk told everyone else, that'd just speed up the process of the eventual discovery. So while it was a little bit unsettling, it wasn't anything too out of left field. He waited for it, the moment Frisk had mentioned Alastor's true last name.

Frisk hadn't done that, though. Hadn't said anything but asked, in a muted tone, if Sans was happy.

The answer never come easier to him before. Absolutely.

That seemed to satisfy the kid enough, who backed off at a moment's notice. A good one, that kid. Odd in the best of ways. Sans hadn't been expecting much from them when they first met, under the snowy forest of Snowdin. Just another human that would die, a necessary sacrifice so Paps could see the sun.

Then Frisk proved him wrong. Again and again. Saved monsterkind, bonded with them in ways none had before. Was so thoroughly one of them that they didn't offput Sans like other humans had. Frisk was safe, even if they were... extra.

"So," Papyrus began, pushing up his prop glasses that were taped to his skull with Scotch tape. The pair of glasses jiggled from the movement. "I have our itinerary for the day!"

If the glasses had been a bit thinner, Papyrus could have passed for Gaster. If Gaster were a full skeleton monster, that was. Gaster was a half-breed, with paper-white skin stretched over his bones and floating hands that were anything but still. It always made Sans' chest ache a bit whenever Papyrus donned those thinking glasses. Reminding him of someone he would never see again. A person defeated by their own perseverance.

"I figured we could start off with some classic beach volleyball," Papyrus announced, clicking a finger against the diagram. "We can randomly divide into teams—I claim Alastor—and we can play for an hour before we have dinner and then relax on the beach for tonight, nyeh heh heh!"

Alastor's finger tapped at the mention of his name, looking ever so annoyed. Sans kind of wanted to see Alastor play volleyball. The man used to be in sports in high school, to the point where he was a self-proclaimed jock. One of the popular, cliché folk. Sans had to see.

"I claim Papyrus!" Undyne roared, bouncing from her spot on the couch.

Papyrus huffed. "No, we can't do that—you're the only other person who matches my speed, nyeh heh heh! It'd be quite unfair to have you on the same team as me."

Undyne paused, glancing around the room before laughing, scratching at the side of her face. "Yeah, fair."

"I volunteer to sit out," Sans said instantly, raising a hand.

Papyrus bristled, whirling on his feet to look at Sans. "Absolutely not, lazybones! You have to play! Or else we'll have an uneven number."

Before Sans could whip up an excuse, Asgore gave a hearty little laugh and replied with, "Oh, don't worry, Papyrus, I would have to sit out. I actually brought my fishing gear and was hoping to catch us some dinner, if that would be quite alright."

"What, no!" Papyrus insisted, flaring his arms. "We all have to play! Bonding time!"

"I can watch," Sans hummed, cocking his head. "I don't want to flounder on the court."

The only thing louder than Papyrus' near screech of appall from Sans' pun was Toriel's bustling laughter.

Toriel leaned forward in her seat, eyes positively glistening. "Guess he's just feeling a bit selfish and sitting this one out."

"Toriel—"

"I didn't want to be part of the tide this time."

"SANS—"

"Looks like they're playing it cool—" Toriel cut herself off, "or should I say, school!"

"I cannot—you two—you two—" Papyrus grumbled, throwing up his hands in utter defeat, face as red as a tomato. "Fine, fine, Asgore can fish and Sans can sit out and watch, but I expect everyone to participate in other friendship bonding activities! Especially Alastor! He's not allowed to escape." Papyrus broke off his stern look towards Alastor, sheepishly adding a quick addition of, "Unless, of course, he's sick or feels uncomfortable, upon which he is absolutely allowed to sit out!" before Papyrus shooed everyone off to go get changed.

Sans cozied up to Paps and threw on one last pun for good measure. "Sorry that I'm not feeling too gill-ty about sitting this one out."

Alastor watched, likely in light amusement, as Papyrus started hitting Sans with a couch cushion. Eventually, he broke the two of them up, and snatched an arm around Sans to get him to change his shoes. Tennis shoes weren't really the best kind of shoes for sand, even if Sans was going to be left out from the physical activity.

All Sans did was toss off his shoes and hoodie, not keen on getting sand caught up in the ruffles of unnecessary clothing. Despite Alastor having spent time in the bathroom plucking at his human appearance that very morning, he still ducked within there to change for volleyball focused activities.

Alastor had a bit more... cohesion to his fit. Instead of the usual brown and duller outfits he wore when he was human, Alastor strolls out of the bathroom in a a more red leaning outfit. A flower patterned shirt and plain red shorts suited for swimming. He still had his glasses on, and a towel tossed over his shoulder.

"You know," Sans grumbled, glancing down at the flip flops his bestie was wearing. "I think this is the first time I've ever seen you with... toes. This is weird. Go back to your hooves."

Alastor's grin sharpened. "Would you like me to go in my usual demonic charm? I'd be more than happy to. It's not my fault you can't keep peeking at my toes."

"Not my fault you're being a whore and showing your ankles. Absolutely disgusting."

They didn't linger in the room after that. No need to, not when the beach was pleasantly warm but not smoldering hot. Alastor outstretched his arm for him to take, the usual hold they've begun to do. And Sans slipped into it so naturally, so freely, that he didn't even blink before Sans is holding onto the guys bare arm.

Sand pooled between his bare bones as Sans' first foot settled off of the pavement and onto the beach. Always an unpleasant experience, in his opinion. Getting even a single grain of sand stuck between bones was rather unpleasant. And sure enough, he could already feel particles slipping through the cracks as he and Alastor started their journey to reach his friends. But the warmth was amazing. Alastor at his side and the burning sand underneath his feet. Very nice indeed.

Papyrus, wearing a loose hawaiian shirt and shorts, waved toward them. There was a net halfway unpacked besides him, and a volleyball tucked underneath his right arm. A new one with the price tag still firmly stuck to it. Fourteen dollars. Did Paps really pay fourteen dollars for a single fucking volleyball?

God damn prices these days. Sans hated it all. Sans goes to make a joke about it, but his mouth snapped shut when he caught Papyrus staring at his bare arms. Arms that hadn't been bare before, as Sans had been wearing his trusty blue hoodie on the car ride down.

Papyrus, his sweet, lovely little brother, winced for a second. It didn't take a genius to know why. His gaze swept away, but it's too late. Sans saw where he had been looking.

It wasn't in any way his fault. Papyrus should know that. Sans didn't think Papyrus could fully get over it, though. And that part was a reminder that sat in his gut like a rock, indigestible and unpleasant. Existing and reminding him every so often that the paranoia his brother eluded, on the coldest of nights or the most anxious of days, was because of him.

(It wasn't his fault, he shouldn't feel guilty, it meant Papyrus cares, but sometimes it took Sans a bit to remind himself of that. Just long enough to make him feel shitty for a second.)

"Do you play volleyball often?" Alastor whipped up quickly, his forearm tilting and squeezing Sans' arm further into his crooked elbow. It grounded Sans, the sweltering heat of his bestie dragging him back from his drifting thoughts.

"I do! Along with basketball! Been playing them ever since school." Papyrus giggled. His brother jumped onto the change of topic with just as much grace as Alastor had. "Volleyball was a summer camp thing and I played basket ball during the school year. I considered joining ping pong but it clashed with basketball so I didn't."

"Shame, you would've been good," Sans said.

Papyrus puffed up his chest. "I would have been! I love sports, doing teamwork and getting the final victory just in the nick of time—do you play any sports Alastor?"

Alastor grinned fluidly at Sans' brother. "I did!" He said, his voice becoming almost distant as he reminisced on times he didn't miss in the slightest. "I played football in high school and played a lot of homemade games out back when I was young. With the neighbors' kids, of course."

"That's amazing! I never played football, Sans was too worried I'd break my nose," Papyrus snorted, shooting Sans a fun, teasing look.

Sans elbows him. "You nearly did in basketball."

"It was only a bloody nose, nyeh heh heh!"

Sans could feel Papyrus losing favorability with Alastor by the second. A warning tap was pressed against his elbow, brief and to the point. Alastor returned it with intensity.

"What's your favorite sport, Alastor?" Papyrus asked, leaning in towards Alastor. His eye sockets honed in on the man, like a missile a target. Alastor looked like he wanted to vomit behind his smile.

"I'd have to argue something along the lines of kick the can. Mainly for the nostalgia," Alastor elaborated, back tilted back ever so subtly. "I'm quite the nostalgic person, you see."

"I agree completely! I love rewatching old films from when I was younger!" Papyrus said. He almost swayed side to side on his feet, as if wanting to lunge forward and tug Alastor into his arms. "What's your favorite old movie?"

Alastor's smile twitched, and he stole a glance towards Sans. "I'm quite fond of Alice in Wonderland literature, you see. Find it fascinating. I suppose that would have to be my favorite picture show, as I'm not too much of a movie person."

If anyone claimed that Sans shivered at that declaration, they would be a filthy liar.