Sans AU One-shots

[🎲/☀️] An odd way of showing that you care (Dust + Horror)

Summary: Dust hates any form of dirt, everyone knows this. He also hates it when his teammates are too tired to take care of themselves properly. When Horror walked in from his mission, it was like a double whammy hit him directly.

Characters: Dust, Horror, Nightmare, Dream (mentioned)

Word Count: 960

Trigger Warnings: Blood, alcohol (ment.), addiction (ment.)
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Dust looked up from his spot on the sofa as two skeletons teleported in. One was an evidently very grumpy black goopy skeleton, the other a barely standing beaten up skeleton, blinking repeatedly.

"I did tell you you should've outright attacked them instead of going with a sneak attack." He spoke.

Nightmare hit him on the head with a tentacle as he barged past over to the staircase. "Well thank you Dust, I'll keep that in mind next time I plan to get my ass kicked!" He yelled, sarcasm evident in his voice.

Dust paid it no attention. Nightmare always got grouchy and rowdy whenever he lost against the Star Sanses.

He turned his attention to Horror, who stumbled over to him and collapsed onto the sofa next to him. It was clear he was bleeding, his blood staining the light purple cushions.

"You okay?" He asked cautiously.

"..no.." came a mumbled response.

Dust tutted and rolled his eyes. It was common for them to be hurt during missions, but to spread around their blood was unacceptable to him. It was always easy for him to just walk upstairs to his room, yet for whatever reason his teammates simply refused to do so; preferring to bleed out wherever possible.

He got up and put Horror upright on the sofa, gently wiping off the dust around his skull hole.

"Don't move around too much, there's dust all over the hole in your skull." He stated.

Horror chuckled and closed his eyes, clutching his lower ribcage. Dust blinked, noting Horror's actions.

"I'll be back." Dust spoke, walking into the kitchen.

They usually kept first aid supplies in every room apart from the living room, which Dust had always found infuriating. The living room was where they always teleported to when coming back from a mission, it had never made any sense to him to not have a first aid kit in there of all places.

He pulled out the kit from underneath the countertop, opening it to inspect the contents.

"..Killer.." Dust muttered, slamming the lid down on the kit and throwing it haphazardly back under.

He stood up and walked off to the conservatory, where he'd hopefully find another kit.

After a short while of looking, he found what he was looking for and proceeded to walk back to Horror - kit in hand.

"Took a while.. figured you were leavin' me for dead.. heh.." Horror laughed, watching as Dust opened the kit and took out bandages.

"Had to go to the conservatory, kitchen one was replaced with a bottle of vodka." Dust responded, lifting up Horror's shirt.

"Typical Killer.. man I keep tellin' Night to tell him off but he never listens.." Horror muttered, licking positivity off of his fingertips.

Dust had never understood the obsession his teammates had with the remnant liquid of Dream's power. He'd heard that it was a painkiller of sorts if ingested, that it could cause feelings of euphoria for a short period and could heal mild wounds, but he'd never tried it for himself. He didn't want to. He didn't need another addiction.

He wrapped Horror's lower ribcage with the bandage, looking over him for any other visible wounds. There were a few minor cuts and scratches here and there but nothing that supposedly couldn't be fixed by Dream's magic.

"Done. Now you'll stop bleeding onto everything." Dust stated, closing up the kit and placing it onto the nearby table.

"Not true, my shirt's still covered in it.. I'm gonna bleed onto everything!" Horror spoke cheerfully, leaping at Dust with a pained wince.

"Gah-!"

Dust caught him before he could successfully make contact with his body, pushing him away in the most careful manner he could. He thanked the Gods that Horror was in a drowsy state otherwise he'd have to have to rewash his clothes for the fourth time that week.

"I just patched you up! Can't you give me a break?!" Dust yelled, managing to push Horror back onto the sofa with a grunt.

Horror breathed heavily, obviously tired out from his attempted attack on Dust. Dust mumbled almost incomprehensible threats of revenge whilst checking himself over for any visible stains on his clothing.

"You're fuckin' weird." Horror spoke, staring at Dust out of the corner of his eye with a grin on his face.

"Yeah, I think that's a requirement for being in this shithole." Dust responded.

"Nah.. you're somethin' different.. you just touched my wounds and fixed 'em.. but only now you give a shit 'bout.. 'bout the bloodiness of it? Weirdo." Horror explained, panting trying to catch his breath.

"Washing my hands is different to washing my clothes."

Horror rolled his eye, shaking his head lightly.

"Bastard." He responded, still grinning.

"Shit for brains." Dust responded.

Dust collapsed back onto the sofa, grabbing the remote with his telekinesis. He turned on the tv, scrolling mindlessly through the channels trying to find something, anything to watch that was even slightly interesting.

"Hey."

He turned to Horror, cocking an eyebrow at his sudden conversation.

"What is it?" Dust asked.

"We fucked with Dream when he was going to an event.. fucked him up reeeeeal bad.." Horror spoke, leaning towards Dust.

Dust grinned, knowing exactly where the conversation was going. "Yeah?"

"Yeah.. would be a shame if he.. got too injured to show up, huh? Would also be a shame.. if his absence was being broadcast where we could watch it.. and the people's reactions.." Horror spoke.

"Such a shame." Dust responded sarcastically, already entering the code of the AU that Horror and Nightmare had gone to.

"Yeah! Woo!" Horror yelled, jumping onto Dust.

Dust could feel the blood imprinting onto his clothes, the dust falling onto his face, his hands, he could see it falling onto the remote he was holding. He trembled for a moment before calming down.

Despite his own hatred of the stains, he'd deal with them to spend more time with his friend.