Chapter Text
In typical lazybones fashion, it’s the week before Halloween and Sans hasn’t bought a single thing.
“Are you not doing a costume?” you ask him. “Is it offensive to you, or…?”
He laughs at you, delighted by the question, but he also promises, “nah, it’s nothin’ like that. this whole thing’s hilarious, ‘course m’doin’ it.”
“Then…”
“already got everything i need for it. trust me.”
Not for the first or last time, because you never learn, you allow those two little words to lull you into a false sense of security.
Sure enough, Halloween comes and Sans is wearing something that’s definitely not his usual…but you’re not sure how it’s much of a costume, either.
With him before you, dressed to the nines in a tailored suit, with a neatly fixed tie and a shiny pair of shoes, you can’t help but notice…
“Is that the suit you wore to Alphys and Undyne’s wedding?”
Without an ounce of shame, he happily confirms, “yep.”
“……Okay, so…what…are you supposed to be? Some kind of…”
Nope, you’re at a loss.
“oh right, thanks for reminding me. it ain’t done yet, hold on.”
Sans reaches over to the pad of post-it notes next to Rocky, the pet-rock—in easy reach for the on-going war of ‘MOVE YOUR SOCK’ just a few feet away—and scribbles something on it with a sharpie.
You frown, even more confused when he peels the note up and slaps it on his chest.
“ta-da,” he says, which doesn’t make sense until you look at the note.
And what’s written on it.
‘sorry’
Oh god damn it.
He’s a formal apology.
“I hate you,” you say flatly, and Sans’ smile is downright beatific.
“i am sincerely sorry,” he assures you.