Just Plain Old Lazy! (Bara!SansxReader) {LEMON}

Story: Thirty Seven

~
Your hands pressed down against his chest, as he finished inside you with one last upward thrust, and you both yelled, reaching your limits.

He heaved a sigh, sinking into his pillow, and you fought to catch your breath. He rested a hand on your hip, then seemed to start shuddering, and you glanced up, tiredly.

Is he.... crying?

He was swiping away the tears as quickly as possible, smiling through them, and you instinctively reached out to help. They were a dull, glowing blue, and as your fingertips brushed across them, it stuck to your fingers like syrup would.
With a confused shake of your hand, it stayed, slowly dripping like molasses.

"I-it's okay, I'm fine." He mumbled. "It's just pent up energy."

"What?"

"Magic. There's to much of it." He waved his hand at it. "Raw magic."

You wiped it off, then leaned down to give him a kiss. "Better?"

"I- ... yeah, I actually am. I'm sorry, I should have left-" He started apologizing, looking half asleep, and you shushed him.

"It's okay." Was all you said, untangling yourself from him and the covers. His hand slipped off you, unwillingly, and you stumbled as you stood, still sore. "I'll be back."

You paused in the doorway, glancing back at him. He looked asleep. You assumed he was, and left, snagging a towel as you went to take a shower. I don't care how sore I am, there's still shit to be done.

~

Sans was still in his room. You wanted to walk in there and check, but getting fucked senseless again wasn't on your agenda.

You were just relaxing in the kitchen, letting the whole thing replay through your mind. Deciding on going in there later, you dropped your cup off in the sink and went to call your boss, to tell her you could come to work again.

You'd told her that someone very close to you (Sans) had gotten an injury, (the crack in his skull) and needed to be taken care of. She'd completely agreed, giving you some time to "help him" around, though he obviously didn't need it.

~

By night, Sans was still in his room, so you slipped in. He was laying on his side, sleeping quietly, and you inched forward. Then crawled onto the bed behind him, softly as possible. With a small, nervous breath, you settled and stared at him.

He doesn't look very peaceful right now.

His brow bones were furrowed, he was curled up a little, and his soul was glowing brightly beneath his shirt.
You reach up and gently stroke his temple, hoping for the best, and get it. He relaxes, mumbling lightly, and settling against his pillow.

~

"The parties on Saturday, right?"

"Of course."

"So tomorrow."

"Of course."

"Are you gonna be fine?"

His eyes drag up from his ketchup tiredly. "Of course."

You play with your sleeves a little. "I'm not sure I want to go."

He looks confused. "Why?"

"Well... you're all monsters..." The immidiant anger on his face makes you stutter out, "L-like, you know, I'll be the only human there, and I just feel like that might be wierd."

With a quick nod he says, "it might've been, but you're not the only human going. I don't just have monster family. You're not the first human to-... well, you get it."

You look down. "Oh. Well. I'm sorry."

"It's all good. No reason to apologize." He glances away. "I need to go call someone." With a flashed smile, he exits stage left.

He's gone. You brush the thought off quickly. He'll be back.

You stand and put his ketchup in the fridge, then stretch. You have work, and you need to get ready.

~

You go to work, drag yourself through the day, and get home later than usual. Bossy Bitch had made you take a night out with her, and you found it hard to deny free food.

"Sans? You home?" You call, dropping your stuff by the door, removing your shoes as well. He doesn't answer, and you check his room.

Not home.

You sigh and go to make yourself tea, grabbing the cup from the cabinet. It slips, thuds on the counter, and shatters on the tile floor.
You shriek in surprise, moving to take a step away, then freeze in fear of stepping on the shards. You're standing on one foot, one hand on the counter, when Sans suddenly appears in the middle of the glass.

There's an awkward silence before he says, "hi."
You nod in return as his gaze drifts down, surveying the scene. "Hm."

"I slipped."

He crunches through the glass and scoops you up, then turns on heel with a loud CRRRRRUNCH of glass. He drops you off by the door and goes to get the broom.

You watch for a second, knees trembling like you just ran a race, before whispering, "I can do it."

"No. I've got it. Don't want to you to hurt yourself."

Your hand drifts to the small cut on your arm, from him, and nod softly. You weren't sure what it was on him that had cut you.
"Where were you?"

"Out. Getting the party set up."

"Why'd you come home?"

With an amused glance, that is obviously covering up worry, he says, "was I not supposed to?"

"No you just had.... very good timing." You watch as he pauses.

"... I had a feeling."

"It was just a cup."

"You scr-... seemed scared, when I showed up, so I didn't know really at first-..." He shakes his head and continues sweeping.

"Alright." You nod. "Thank you."

"No problem. I've got this handled, go on." He glances over and smiles a small smile.

You smile back, blushing a little as you step back, away from the kitchen, and into the loving room.
Glass scrapes on tile, and you flinch a little, quickly going to your room to escape the noise.

~

You're getting really turned on right now, and feel really bad for it.

So, having sex with him must not have helped, because he's jacking off in his room, and he thinks you left, so he's not even trying to be quiet. 

Just get your bag and leave.

The night before had been uneventful, seeing as you'd stayed in your room. You'd woken up, and gotten ready. Said bye to Sans.

Shit, I don't WANT to leave.

Then you'd gone outside, gotten halfway down the road, and had gone back to get your bag.

Grab it and leave grab it and leave.

Your hand snatches up the bag , and you quickly go outside to your car, afraid to be late for work.

He was saying my name Holy crap.

Also afraid that you wouldn't leave at all if you'd stayed any longer.