Sans was drunk again.

Grillby had long ago ceased to refuse his friend's plea for alcohol. Mainly because the skeleton had broken into the back room of the restaurant looking for it one night. But also because he couldn't stand to see Sans so desperate anymore.

The days seemed to stretch longer and longer the more time they all spent cooped up in the Underground. Grillby served liquor almost constantly to every person who just wanted to escape for a little while. For a long time, he'd tried to avoid giving any to Sans, as the last thing he needed was alcoholism on top of all his other problems. He'd been so worried that Sans would do something wild and hurt himself, perhaps permanently.

Fortunately, Sans was a quiet drunk; most of the time he just sat silently, consuming glass after glass until he was dead asleep. And then Grillby would wake him up and walk him home after hours so Papyrus wouldn't worry.

Tonight, however, Sans was much more talkative than usual.

"H-hey. Hey, Grillby. Grillbz. Grillboy. My flamey… friend."

Grillby looked over at Sans. The skeleton's head lay on the countertop, hand grasping an empty glass. Grillby moved the glass and leaned on the counter.

"You know… you're a great guy, you know that, Grillbz? You're my good friend. B-best friend even. 'Mazing person." Sans's eyes stared into Grillby's, far more open and vulnerable than normal.

His words were so slurred that Grillby could hardly make out anything specific, but he got the gist, and that left him confused. Sans was never a sentimental, gushy kind of person. Unless he was thinking about Papyrus, of course.

"You're ssssssso nice to me, Grillbz. Even though I never pay my tab 'n… stuff…" Sans almost looked sad.

Grillby patted Sans's shoulder awkwardly. That tab would be far better discussed when Sans was sober.

"Sometimes…" Sans broke his gaze, but couldn't seem to stop the words from tumbling out of his mouth. "Sometimes I kinda wanna kiss you…"

Grillby's flames flared involuntarily. He feels the same way?

"Yeah." Sans's face was already flushed blue from drinking, but the color seemed to deepen at his confession. "Yeah. N-never figured out how we could do that though... I don't have lips 'n you don't have a mouth…" He furrowed his brow. "Do you have a mouth?"

The lines around Grillby's eyes crinkled and a laugh rumbled deep in his chest. He could hardly believe it—he feels the same way! Without thinking, he pushed his forehead against Sans's.

The skeleton gave a rare, giddy-sounding giggle. "Guess you like me too, huh?"

The fire monster pulled back, embarrassed at his lack of restraint, but the feeling in his heart, suddenly renewed, did not fade.

He began to pack up the restaurant for the night, much faster than usual. What a feeling this was, to know. They'd have to discuss it later, of course, when Sans could actually think, but now, at least, they knew.

There was a loud crash as Sans fell off the bar stool. He sat up groggily, rubbing his head. "Well. Uh. I was gonna try 'n go home, but… guess I'll just sit here 'stead…"

Grillby smiled as he locked up the back door. Then, instead of pulling Sans up on his feet and getting him to walk, like he normally did, he picked him up and held him.

Sans only seemed barely aware as Grillby left the restaurant and headed down the dark main street of Snowdin, falling back into his standard drunken silence. He was completely asleep by the time Grillby got into the skeleton brothers' house and dropped him on the couch.

Grillby patted Sans's head just before he left.

They'd definitely have to talk about this. Sans probably wouldn't remember, and he'd be hopelessly embarrassed once Grillby told him, but hopefully, once they were past that, they'd be ready to start something new.