Tiny Raven

—Red—

Red held the café door open for Sans, noting how hard his counterpart was shivering with a frown.

“y’shoulda worn a thicker coat,” Red commented as they took their place at the back of the queue. “yer shakin’ like a fuckin’ maraca.”

“it’s the s-song of my p-people,” Sans snarked back as his teeth chattered.

Red rolled his eyelights, debating if he should offer his coat to Sans, at least to help him warm back up.

“i’ll be fine once i get somethin’ t’ drink,” Sans said, responding to Red’s unasked question like he could read his damn mind.

Sans was looking up at the menu board, hugging himself in an attempt to subdue his shivering.

“RED!”

The loud, cheerful voice broke the general quiet of the café, and made Red tense up.

wait … what’s today?

He pulled out his phone to check and groaned.

Every other week the skeletons had a standing get together at The Parlor. Usually at least a couple of them would show.

Red had it marked on his calendar, he just hadn’t thought to look at it before he texted Sans.

He was a fucking moron.

Fuck.

He wondered if he could get away with not responding. If somehow Blue would think he had the wrong skeleton.

… right, like there’s more’n one of me.

Red turned toward Blue’s voice, plastering a smile on his face and bracing himself for who might be there.

Mutt and Stretch were looking between him and Sans. Stretch’s expression was openly curious, like he had found a particularly interesting shiny thing that he couldn’t wait to take apart.

Mutt, on the other hand, had a grin that was wide and sharp. It was a grin that Red knew all too well. He was in for a whole mountain of bullshit from that one.

Black had his skull in a ledger, coffee cup abandoned on the table in front of him. As usual he seemed to be working in his time off. Fucking workaholic.

Blue was standing and waving, excited and bright as always. He didn’t seem to notice (or care) that he was bothering other patrons with his antics.

And Papyrus …

Papyrus wasn’t looking at Red at all. Hs eyelights were focused on Sans with an expression that set Red’s instincts screaming, although he wasn’t sure what they were saying.

Then he seemed to notice Red looking at him and the expression was gone. Replaced with a grin as wide as Blue’s, unthreatening and kind.

Red almost doubted he had seen the look Papyrus had shot Sans.

Almost.

“RED!” Papyrus called out, causing more customers to glare at the table of skeletons. Red could hear some of them muttering complaints to one another. A couple got up and left, taking their drinks with them. “COME JOIN US!”

A pit formed in his core.

Red wanted to accept the invitation, but something about Papyrus was making him uneasy. He trusted his instincts, especially when he couldn’t figure out why they were freaking the fuck out.

He also didn’t want to abandon Sans. He was an asshole, but he wasn’t rude.

“go talk to them,” Sans said, so quiet the words were almost lost to the background murmur of the café.

Red spun on him, his full attention on the other in an instant.

Sans’ eyelight flickered at Red before returning to the menu boards that he was staring at, unblinking. “i can order if ya … if you tell me what you want. i actually got the g this time.”

Red stared at Sans, his mind a jumble as misfitting pieces of a puzzle started to resolve themselves, just a little.

“i ain’t ditchin’ ya,” Red growled. “if it got back t’ the boss i wouldn’t hear the end of it.”

Sans was still in his casual, lazy slouch – but it was no longer casual or lazy. Red hadn’t noticed before but Sans was … tense.

A wire, ready to snap with just a little more pressure.

Scared.

The line moved and Sans took a measured step forward with it, leaving Red a step behind him. He tipped his head back, looking at Red out of the corner of an eye socket.

“it’s not ditching if I tell ya-“ he flinched, changing the word partway through, “-ou … you to do it.”

His grin was too wide. Too tight at the edges.

“if you don’t you’ll spend the entire time glancing over at them like a schoolgirl with a crush. just go.”

“i ain’- !“ Red began. His words were cut off with the pop of displaced air that came with shortcuts. A heavy weight rested on his shoulders, nearly knocking him over.

“heya Red,” Mutt said in a lazy drawl, his eyelights fixed on Sans. “gonna introduce me t’ yer date?”

“git offa me!” Red snarled in response, shoving the other away. Red glared up at Mutt as he snarled, “ya already know sans, asshole.”

“weird,” Mutt said as he continued to leer at Sans, who had his back carefully to Red and the interloper. Red could see his head was cocked just a little, listening to their conversation. “i thought that was sans. i take it yer little ‘date’ went well, then?”

Red flinched at the barely concealed mockery in Mutt’s voice, tensing for half a soulbeat. He dug his wallet from his pocket and shoved it toward Sans.

“mocha. small. double chocolate. get it t’go.”

“sure,” Sans agreed with a nod. The tattered trifold disappearing into his own hoodie pocket.

Red grabbed the ring of Mutt’s collar to drag him back to the table with the others.

He’d almost figured out the damned, infuriating puzzle that was Sans.

He wasn’t about to let Mutt fuck it up.

—Sans—

Sans watched Red drag Mutt away with a half-hearted smile. His soul clenched with desperate want, and he turned away before he could meet anyone’s eyelights.

They were staring at him. He could feel it.

He clenched his fists in his hoodie pockets, fighting the urge to scratch at the back of his neck. Trying to ignore the way his bones prickled uncomfortably with shame and fear.

He repeated Red’s order to himself softly, a mantra. He didn’t want to mess it up.

“small mocha, double chocolate, to go.”

Today had been enough of a disaster.

Sans should have never agreed to come out when he still had a visible bruise. Red had been tense since seeing it, even when he changed the subject. He kept glancing at the back of Sans’ hoodie, as if he could see the injury through the fabric.

Of course, Sans’ slip (heh) up of an explanation hadn’t helped.

His only excuse was being exhausted. Papyrus hadn’t let up on him after their fight, waking him early every day and sending him out to find a job.

(at least he was sleeping deeply enough that he didn’t have nightmares.)

He wasn’t getting enough sleep. He’d fallen back to his old go-to explanation: a smile and a pun about ice and slippers. He hadn’t updated it since they’d left the Underground.

He hadn’t needed to.

(had it really been that long since someone cared enough to ask?)

“small mocha, double chocolate, to go.”

Sans allowed himself a glance at the table, watching as Red talked with the others. He looked serious, and Sans wondered what they were talking about.

Red shifted and Sans saw a hint of the red of Pap’s scarf. He looked away, focusing on the menu board, hoping he hadn’t been caught staring.

Papyrus.

He wasn’t going to be happy that Sans was out with Red. Again.

He was supposed to be finding a job.

(a job Sans was increasingly thinking he wasn’t going to find.)

“small mocha, double chocolate, to go.”

A solitary night job was one thing. Finding a solitary day job was futile. The few places that had even bothered to call him back hadn’t had positions open that were away from … people. Cashiering and waitstaff jobs were plentiful. Jobs that limited his outside contact were few.

He hadn’t even bothered mentioning the callbacks to Papyrus.

(why bother when he’d … )

“small mocha, double chocolate, to go.”

He pulled his wallet from his pocket, counting out the G for two drinks so he wasn’t doing it at the counter. He left Red’s wallet where it was. He had been saving up, wanting to repay Red for his generosity.

He was able to pay.

He wanted to.

“Hello! Welcome to The Parlor,” the girl behind the register said. A cat monster, pale fur and (appropriately) a Cheshire grin. “What can I get you?”

“Uh … ” Sans stuttered as he forgot how to talk for a moment. He shook his head, trying to clear it. “Two small mochas. Double chocolate. To go. Please.”

“Certainly!” Cheshire smiled. She grabbed two small cups and a pen. “And your name?”

The girl misheard, or he mumbled too much, a mistake Sans only caught when he watched her hand the cups to a coworker.

SANDS

He chuckled, knowing there was some rite of passage to having a barista spell your name wrong. He wandered over to the pickup window, trying to think of a good pun or joke to use with it.

He wondered if he could make Red laugh.

—Red—

Halfway back to the table, Red lost his nerve. He let go of Mutt’s collar and approached the table with a small wave.

His off hand was clenched tightly deep in his pocket.

“didn’t expect t’ see yeh all here,” he said. He grunted as Mutt leaned on him again, arms crossed over his head. He shoved at the taller skeleton, but Mutt seemed determined to annoy him.

“WE DID NOT EXPECT TO SEE YOU, EITHER!” Blue said with a frown. “YOU HAVEN’T BEEN AROUND MUCH.”

“yeah,” Stretch agreed. He leaned back, balancing precariously as he sipped on his coffee. “when was the last poker night? must’ve been at least a month ago. feels like it’s been more’n that.”

Papyrus was looking toward the registers, expression and demeanor neutral.

“been busy,” Red said with a shrug, desperately hoping no one asked for particulars.

“SO HAS EDGE,” Blue said as his frown deepened. He pointed accusingly at his alternate, who hadn’t stopped looking through the ledger in front of him. “YOU’RE STARTING TO BE AS BAD AS BLACK!”

“IT IS BECOMING A PROBLEM,” Papyrus agreed as he focused back on the conversation, turning his frown to the coffee mug in front of him. “I HAVEN’T BEEN ABLE TO DISCUSS PUZZLE TECHNIQUES IN AGES.”

“I COULD TALK TO YOU ABOUT PUZZLE DESIGN!” Blue argued, eyes bright, excited by the idea.

“AND IF I WANT TO TALK ABOUT PUZZLES THAT CAN BE SOLVED WITH WIT ALONE, I WILL TALK TO YOU IMMEDIATELY,” Papyrus said with a bright smile.

Pride soothed, Blue returned the smile. He jumped when his phone began to vibrate in his pocket.

“OH! STARS,” he said as he pulled it out to silence it. “I HADN’T REALIZED HOW LATE IT WAS. PAPYRUS? STRETCH? WE SHOULD GET READY TO GO. THE MOVIE IS STARTING SOON!”

“THEN WE SHOULD LEAVE POSTHASTE!” Papyrus said, standing and pulling a thick coat around his shoulders.

“WE CAN AT LEAST SAY OUR ‘GOODBYES,’ PAPYRUS,” Blue said with a laugh. “WE’RE NOT GOING TO MISS ANYTHING.”

“TO BE GREAT ONE MUST ALWAYS ARRIVE AT LEAST FIFTEEN MINUTES EARLY. NOT A MOMENT SOONER, NOR LATER!” Papyrus secured his scarf with a flourish.

Blue frowned, glancing toward the registers.

“PAPYRUS, ARE YOU SURE YOU DON’T WANT TO SAY ‘HI’ TO SA – “

“STRETCH! THE CINEMA ON FOURTH STREET, IF YOU WOULD?” Papyrus said sharply, making everyone jump. He blushed, bowing his head. “I’M SORRY. I DO NOT WISH TO MISS THE PREVIEWS.”

“don’t worry about it,” Stretch said as he patted Papyrus’ shoulder. He raised his hand in a wave. “see ya later, red. mutt.” He gave the latter a fist bump. Then he waved a hand in front of Black’s face before saying, “black.”

Before he could respond, Stretch had vanished with Blue and Papyrus.

Black scowled at the empty spot they left, the expression quickly deepening with rage.

“THEY DIDN’T EVEN BOTHER TO CLEAN UP AFTER THEMSELVES!”

Mutt laughed as he wandered around to take a seat next to his brother.

“they were runnin’ late for their show, bro. it’s not like you’ve never left a mess before. remember at … was it breadbasket?”

“HOW WAS I TO KNOW?!” Black responded, defensive and sharp. He hid behind his ledger, only succeeding in making Mutt laugh harder. “THE HUMAN WAITSTAFF HAD BUSSED TABLES NEAR US! I THOUGHT IT WAS PART OF THE OFFERED SERVICES!”

“nowhere that has ya self-serve drinks is gonna bus your tables for you, bro,” Mutt said as his chuckles died down. He wiped at an eye socket with his sleeve.

Red glanced around, checking to see how annoyed the other patrons of the café were at the table’s antics.

He didn’t particularly want to get banned from The Parlor because of the Swapfells.

Sans was leaning against the pick up counter, staring at the floor.

“so, red,” Mutt asked in a low drawl. He was circling the rim of his mug with a finger, leaning lazily on his other hand. His teeth were pulled up in a calculating grin. “whatcha doin’ with sansy?”

“gettin’ coffee,” Red shrugged, “same as you.”

“huh,” Mutt said, sitting up straighter. “i thought yer little ‘date’ happened a month ago?” he frowned. “i didn’t think you’d keep leadin’ him on like this. seems a bit cruel, doncha think?”

“i ain’t leadin’ him nowhere,” Red said, dismissing the accusation.

Mutt looked up, meeting Red’s eyelights. There was a glimmer of something predatory in his eye.

“don’t tell me you caught feelings for him!”

Red glanced behind him, checking that Sans wasn’t coming up to the table. He didn’t want to get caught in some liar-revealed sitcom trope.

Sans was where he’d been the last time Red had checked. Staring at the floor and waiting on their drinks.

“there’s somethin’ weird about him,” Red said as he turned back toward the other two. “i’m tryin’ t’ figure out what it is.”

Mutt frowned, and Black looked up with a raised brow.

“what’s there t’ figure out?” Mutt scoffed with a roll of his eyelights. “papyrus doesn’t like him. pa-py-rus. he likes everyone!”

Red shrugged, unable to do more. He didn’t have time to detail out all the inconsistencies between expectation and reality.

He wasn’t sure how to explain that Sans … didn’t seem to be a bad guy.

That Papyrus might be … wrong.

“there’s somethin’ weird,” Red said, shrugging again as he turned away, waving at the Swapfell brothers over his shoulder. “and i’m gonna figure out what.”