Camping, Frisk decided, was fun. Camping in the heat was not so fun. The mosquitoes kept attacking them while so rudely avoiding Sans. Bug repellent smelled bad. They didn't have the heart to kill the mosquitoes even as they were bitten. Sans had started slapping them instead if he spotted one on Frisk.

"don't think i don't know about the diseases they carry, pal." He told them as he wiped one of the dead bugs off onto Frisk's shorts. Frisk made a face at the poor bug even as they began to scratch at one of their many bites. What a cruel way to die. "your folks won't be happy if you caught something on this trip."

Frisk had almost pointed out that with all of the world travelling they were doing, they wouldn't be surprised if they caught some foreign disease, but they decided to keep it to themselves. They didn't want to jinx it. They had already fallen ill twice. Luckily they had received a number of vaccines in preparation for the trip. They hoped that they were worth it.

The tent Sans and Frisk were staying in was extremely large (due to it being a monster tent to prepare for every type of monster) but a pain to set up. But when it was set up, it was like a small bedroom. It was very easy to cook a warm meal with their portable stove and roll out their sleeping bags. Frisk just wished that it wasn't so hot. They had resorted to just hanging around in their underwear, not quite willing to go fully naked yet.

The heat was too unbearable to actually sleep in yet. Their body wasn't accustomed to it or the humidity that clung to every bit of their skin. The loud songs of crickets and cicadas were extremely distracting and left Frisk unable to even lay down to sleep. If it wasn't for the fact that the ground was harder than the sleeping bag, Frisk would forgo it as well just so they wouldn't have to deal with the stuffing suffocating their back.

"you'd better sleep." Sans warned, his voice ragged with his own drowsiness. Not for the first time Frisk envied his ability to sleep anywhere and anywhen.

"Too hot." Frisk complained, rolling off of their sleeping back and curling up against Sans's bones. His jacket and shirt lay strewn across the ground considering he hadn't been expecting any sort of cuddling on that night. Frisk didn't mind that there wasn't any padding for the moment. They entertained themselves with running their fingers over his smooth bones. Here and there were some bumps. When they touched some of the sockets, they could see the damage Sans had explained was from fusion practice. It was what allowed Sans to pop off his joints whenever he pleased. If Frisk pressed their fingers into the joint, his bones would pop off.

Sans made a quiet sigh of contentment. Frisk watched his rib cage expand and contract despite the lack of lungs. They gently and carefully slid their hand up the inside of his vertebra, watching Sans's reaction in case he told them to stop. His eyes stayed closed, though. His body stiffened only slightly at the foreign touch. Frisk wondered what it felt like. A part of them was nervous to see their hand inside of him. Their skin prickled.

"Sans?" They asked quietly. There was a soft patter on the roof of the tent, and then a distant rumble of thunder. Ah, so that's why it was so humid. They hoped it didn't rain too badly. Sans hummed, poking his eye open just a bit. Frisk's eyes jumped to his and then back down to their hand where they wiggled their fingers without touching his bones. "Can you feel this?"

Sans considered not answering, but he could tell this was going to be one of those nights where sleep wouldn't come easy to Frisk. And when sleep didn't come, they asked questions until they got sleepy. It had been a while since they had asked questions about Sans, though. He was already exhausted and slightly wary thinking about it.

"sort of." He murmured, somewhat reluctantly. "i can sense the magic in your hand more than i can actually feel anything."

Frisk blinked, surprised. "You can feel magic in me?"

"yeah."

Frisk stared at their hand, and then moved it to touch his scapula from the inside. Sans shifted a little at the sensation. "And now?"

"feels like you're touching me."

Frisk trailed their fingers back down Sans's spine and watched him shiver just a bit at the feeling. Automatically they kissed his sternum. Sans tensed some as Frisk trailed back up the spine and pressed a kiss to one of his ribs, so they stopped, hesitating. They took a moment to put themselves in check before pressing a reassuring kiss to his sternum again. Their slow touch returned to curious movements. Sans relaxed again.

Silence reigned between them as the rain began to pick up more. Frisk saw the tent light up outside at a flash of lightning, followed by another thunderclap, closer this time. The rain was becoming heavier. The sound was soothing to Frisk, reminding them of days curled up in their mom's chair with them as it poured outside.

"Am I touching your soul?" Frisk asked him, breaking the silence.

"nah." Sans sounded more awake now. Frisk couldn't help the small smile at that. It was always a little funny waking Sans up properly. His own hand had crept its way to Frisk's hip, slipping his fingers a little beneath the waistband of their underwear so that he could cup only skin. A frisson of want burned its way through Frisk's body, but it was acknowledged and ignored. They instead scooted closer to him, pressing their legs to his. Sans yawned and rolled over, throwing one of his legs over theirs. Frisk scoffed a laugh. It was a good thing skeletons didn't have body heat. Frisk found it amusing how Sans had become so used to cuddling. They vaguely recalled a time when he had been somewhat uncomfortable with it.

"But your body is made of magic." Frisk protested, confused.

"doesn't mean my soul is being touched by you anymore than i'm touching your Soul right now." His hands slid over the bare skin of their lower back. Goosebumps scattered across their body at the pleasing scrape of his bones. They considered probing him for a back scratch.

"What if I brought magic to my hand?"

Sans's eyes opened at that, watching them with wary but curious eyes. ". . . probably." He finally said, after considering it for a few long moments.

Frisk brought their hand out of his chest to instead spread their fingers across the top of his rib cage. Sans was still watching them, a silent witness to their thoughts. They looked away from their hand and instead met his eyes. ". . . Can I?" They asked.

Sans took a breath. They could see his confliction in the very minimal expression changes on his face. Frisk knew what it felt like for Sans to touch their Soul, but only brushes of it because otherwise he might accidentally absorb their Soul (or so they both feared). Humans, Frisk knew from their history lessons, could not absorb monster souls. At least, not in the same way that monsters could take human Souls. But Frisk was also aware of how personal it was and how intimate.

Frisk blushed a little as they also realized they had essentially just propositioned Sans. Their heart rate picked up at the thought.

". . . alright." Sans finally responded softly, sounding a little breathless. "try it then."

Frisk swallowed thickly. He had accepted. They had honestly not expected him to say yes to their thoughtless question, but now he had been given permission. The pressure of his consent weighed on them, the importance obvious. Sans had offered himself to them. That was something they had never expected to receive from him; not after everything they'd done. Sans had only offered himself up to one other previously that Frisk knew of. They would take their responsibility seriously.

Pulse beginning to race, Frisk summoned up their Soul. Through the vision of their Soul, they focused on Sans's body and located his soul within it. The small white upside-down heart was bigger than the last time they had truly focused on it. Papyrus's training with Sans had really paid off in more health for the smaller skeleton. Frisk was relieved to see proof of what they had been told. A part of them that had been worried about possibly causing damage relaxed. If Sans had still had one health left, then a single bit of damage would've dusted him.

Magic burned on their hand that made them feel as if they had dunked it into a warm bath and swirled their hand around. The sensation right under their skin was bright in the vision of their Soul. The red magic coated their hand as tentatively they let the magic seep past the physical body of both Sans and Frisk and towards the bright white soul within Sans.

Sans's hand immediately clenched around Frisk's hip. Frisk froze, their magic stopping its careful process. They could feel the call of Sans's soul tingling just outside of their fingers. Their magic itched to touch. They forced themselves to focus through their physical eyes to look upon Sans, but he wasn't seeing them. His eyes were shut and clenched. It didn't look like he was in pain, but rather with confusion.

"Sans?" Frisk asked, worried.

Sans's eyes fluttered open, and it took longer than a moment for the lights in his sockets to come back on. His breathing was a bit more ragged than usual. He focused on Frisk's face. "i'm good." He reassured them. The clench of his fingers relaxed to something a little less painful.

"How does it feel?" They questioned, not completely reassured. They didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

"like." He stopped, breathless. Despite Frisk's hand physically being on his chest, they also felt as if their hand was in his chest. The duality would've been mesmerizing if they weren't so used to their vision being so skewed whenever they used magic. "like . . . the lake in the summer."

"My magic." Frisk agreed.

"i can feel the heat." Sans sounded a tiny bit amazed by that.

"In you?" Frisk asked, eager to hear more. Sans looked amazingly young, almost like when he had seen a galaxy for the first time through his telescope. The lights of his eyes were starting to spark, almost turning into the stars Frisk loved most to see.

"yeah." His eyes met theirs. "keep going."

Frisk nodded, grinning. His excitement was infectious, but they could feel the tentativeness in him as well. The closer their magic got to his soul, the more they realized they were sensing from him. The sensation of their magic in his body rebounded into Frisk's own chest. They could sense his soul trembling at the near proximity to Frisk's magic, but they weren't quite sure why until they brushed over his soul.

Immediately both of them gasped, bodies bucking towards each other automatically. It was almost enough to break the connection Frisk had on Sans's soul, but the magic clung together and refused to let go. Frisk's mind swam with sensations and thoughts that they weren't sure were their own. Power flowed through their veins. They felt like they were on fire, but they wanted to burn. They were drowning in the energy even as they wanted to swim lap after lap. Confusion and elation and curiosity swirled in a maelstrom in their mind. Their body was warm, and they could sense their physical body reacting. The urge to press further into each other was there; Frisk's need echoed by Sans's body (or was it Sans's body being echoed by Frisk's?). They wanted to kiss Sans and dig their fingers into Frisk's skin and they wanted to press their sex against Sans's hipbone and they wanted to bite the soft skin of Frisk's neck because they loved the sound the human made when they did.

Frisk's forehead bowed to press against Sans's skull as wants and needs clawed and dragged around in their thoughts, mixing with Sans's until Frisk couldn't tell what was them and what was him. They were distantly aware that they were gasping, each breath not enough to fill needy lungs. They could feel the icy-heat of Sans's soul encased in their magic, fluttering and electrified. Frisk knew that if they wanted to, they could snuff out the little light they held. It would be so easy.

Fear crept into the emotions in the back of their mind, and it took Frisk too long to realize it was a steadily-increasing panic. They were only vaguely aware of pain alerting their mind from various parts of their physical body as Sans's bones dug too hard into their skin, but it was lost beneath the tide of Sans and Frisk's combined experience. Why was there fear there? Why were they scared? No, rather, why was Sans scared?

Sans. Frisk thought. His name repeated in their head, more confused with each echo. They couldn't seem to get past that thought until the fear began to overcome every other emotion.

"n-no!" Sans's voice startled Frisk and their eyes snapped open. They couldn't see anything at first, baffled, until Sans's whole body was in front of them again. The lights of his eyes were small. His thoughts finally translated into words in Frisk's mind. hurt. no. no. kill me. no. NO!

Frisk gasped as they were suddenly back in the judgement hall, only they saw a figure before them. They recognized that hair and that shirt, but the smile on their face was not theirs. This was someone else. Dust coated their body. Pain sliced across their chest suddenly and liquid coughed out of their own lips. Frisk looked down at themselves to see a familiar blue jacket, red fluid leaking from their chest. Bony hands shook as they clenched their wound-

and then Frisk was flinging themselves away, body scrambling from Sans in the same moment Sans was struggling away from them. Panting filled the air. Frisk could still feel the tingle of Sans's magic on their hand, but they felt unbearably cold. They curled in on themselves and sobbed once, holding their chest. They couldn't breathe properly even though they could feel air filling their lungs. They felt too confined even though they had space. They wanted to dig their fingers into the ground and drag them. Everything hurt, but they felt so powerful. They hated it.

They didn't calm down quickly. It was a gradual process for Frisk to come back to themselves. The separation between "Sans" and "Frisk" didn't become clear until an uncountable number of minutes had passed. Frisk had to stare at their hands, questioning why they looked the way they did before they understood that their hands had always looked like that. They weren't Sans. Still their mind swam with confusion. Their sense of identity was disorganized.

Neither Sans nor Frisk spoke to each other while they reoriented themselves with their sense of self. Once they did, and the panic had passed, they both shakily looked at each other. Guilt filled Frisk's chest. They had accidentally hurt Sans. They had both been forced to relive something horrible. That wasn't meant to happen. It was supposed to be something pleasant. They had messed up. They had hurt him.

"I'm sorry." They whispered, but their voice was rough like sandpaper and as weak as the brush of a feather. They weren't sure if he had heard them over the pounding of the rain. Thunder cracked overhead. The tent held firm. They tried to apologize again, but it didn't come out much louder.

Sans looked away from them and ran a hand over his skull. "i'm . . . i'm alright." He finally said. His own voice sounded brittle. "that wasn't . . . what i was expecting."

"I'm sorry." They apologized again. It was their fault. They had hurt Sans when he had made himself vulnerable to them. They didn't understand why they had to always hurt those they cared about.

"it wasn't . . . don't worry too much about it." He took a breath. He still wasn't looking at them. "neither of us . . . knew what would happen. but i kind of . . . guessed something like that might."

Frisk didn't respond, but their unasked question hung in the air.

"it was probably, uh . . . too much. at once." Sans didn't sound overly sure. If anything he sounded small. Vulnerable. Frisk had made him like that. They curled more into themselves, trying to make themselves less of presence in Sans's space. They didn't want to hurt him anymore.

They didn't know how to respond to him. Everything they felt they could say just seemed terrible.

Silence overtook them for a period of time again, and Sans took the time to recover his defenses. He was calmer now. He uncurled from himself, and Frisk could sense his shields were back up. He was the normal Sans again, only a little weaker. He hesitated before he moved back over to his sleeping bag. He watched them, waiting, but Frisk couldn't bring themselves to get closer to him. They had hurt him again.

Sans patted the sleeping bag next to him in an offering Frisk didn't take. He sighed and stared at the wall of the tent. "it's alright, kid. it was an accident. not every . . . situation like that ends well."

"I'm sorry." They whimpered again. "You . . . you trusted me and . . ."

"i'm fine. we're both fine." Sans looked exhausted, although he tried to keep his voice light. "it was just too . . . overwhelming, y'know?"

Frisk did know. They felt it too.

"You." They swallowed. Their throat felt dry. "You thought I would . . . crush your soul?" Their voice tilted up into a question as doubt spread through their mind. What if Sans hadn't been the one to think it? What if it was Frisk's first impulse to think about crushing his soul? The thought chilled them even more, stealing the breath from their lungs with a punch.

Sans cleared that up quickly. ". . . yeah."

Frisk didn't trust themselves to reassure him. Not with their own doubts in their head. They hadn't been able to tell the difference between what had been them and what had been Sans. How many of those thoughts were really theirs?

"like i said." Sans murmured. "too much at one time."

"I'm sorry." Frisk responded, sounding weary now. Fear was being suffused out and replaced with sorrow and guilt.

Sans acknowledged the apology, but didn't reassure Frisk. Somehow that made them feel better.

"listen . . . uh." He paused and then continued, "if we . . . feel up to it . . . we can try again maybe. slower next time." He turned their head to meet their eyes. ". . . alright?"

Some part of Frisk felt relief that thereir might be a "next time". Even excitement. Tentatively they nodded. Their nerves and emotions were shot. They didn't know what all they were feeling anymore.

Sans patted the sleeping bag next to him again before he laid down and turned his back to them. Frisk uncurled stiff legs and crawled over to their sleeping back. The air was cooler now with the rain, but it didn't help them. They laid down and closed their eyes, not daring to touch Sans again. They felt too sensitive, and they were sure he felt worse. Frisk closed their eyes with a shaky sigh. Next time (if there really is a next time) they would be very careful. They wouldn't hurt Sans again. They were determined not to.