Can I Maybe Possibly See Sans :3

HIII

Drops my discord server and runs away

# X TALE

`Welcome, my friend to X Tale.`

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`We are a small X Tale themed server with many different things to offer, such as-`

- Art Sharing

- A Fun Community

- A Safe Space for All

- Roleplay

- Cosplay

- An Active Server

And Much Much More!

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https://discord.gg/kFA3PJcRDv

Hope you’re not too mad

- finallyyy finished this kross one shot ive been working on for so so long yayy. i’m not really familiar enough with fanfic terms to know what to call this but there’s some kinda hurt happening

- this is inspired by and based around the song favorite liar by the wrecks - also!!!! this au, rental suits, belongs to me and @psycho-chair

It was maybe, ten pm? And it was raining. Raining hard. It clattered against metal, pooled at Killer’s feet on the fire escape below him, drenched his clothes.

          His hood covered his skull. He was crouched at a window. Water soaked his jacket and the hood’s fur drooped with its weight to cover most of his face. The scarce furnishing of the living room inside was barely visible past his own reflection, which was made more visible in the dark and obscured by rain. The glow of a single standing lamp cut through it from one of the room’s corners, otherwise it was dark.

             He lifted a wrist to knock rhythmically on the glass. Then he waited. He knocked again. He didn’t bother to try and force it open himself. The rain wasn’t that bad. And he actually wanted to see him this time, instead of just sneaking in. 

       It took maybe more than five minutes, but eventually a figure shuffled into the room. A light was flicked on and the rest of the room became visible.

      Suddenly the curtains were jerked the rest of the way open, and Cross was there, in front of him. Killer grinned widely and waved at the him. There he was. The guy that he was sitting out here for. Now he couldn’t help but love the rain.

     He saw Cross’s face soften. Which, wasn’t saying a lot, but Killer noticed. The magnet of his soul whirred faster with anticipation. He was so close. 

    There was a click as the window unlatched and Cross quickly pushed it open. 

“Hurry, rain’s gonna get in.” He said hurriedly. 

“It’s fuckin’ comin’ down out here.” Killer exclaimed, yet his voice carried a kind of thrill with it. 

      He put two hands to the windowsill and slid himself inside in one quick motion. The window was promptly closed and locked behind him. Killer’s soaked sneakers sunk into carpet, and the fabric of he and Cross’s clothes brushed. Killer shook out his sleeves. Cross’s apartment was warm, and the rain now became only a muffled sound in the back of his mind. 

“Evenin’ sunshine.” He greeted the other. The response he got was a harmless, yet tired, scowl. He grinned.

     Cross didn’t complain about how late it was. He used to, but he stopped after Killer’s visits became repetitive enough. 

     Though, he gave Killer a look he liked to interpret as him drilling him, wondering what he wanted, what he came here for. He always wanted something.

Killer grinned and replied “I jus’ wanted to see you.” 

     He also wanted somewhere dry to be and a couch to prop up his feet. And maybe something to eat, if he could manage that, too. But he didn’t say that. 

     Killer eagerly slid into Cross’s space, hungrily, intent on something, but Cross put a palm to his chest and pushed him away. 

“Dude, you’re soaking wet.” He said, mild amusement now making its way into his voice. 

Killer scowled and stuck his tongue out at him. 

     Killer unzipped his jacket and stripped it off, draping it messily over the back of Cross’s couch. He put one hand on the arm rest and half turned half jumped to flop down onto the furniture. He sprawled out on it like a cat, and when Cross joined him, he leaned his back up against him and propped his feet on the arm rest across from him. 

       Killer fished a lighter from his pocket and fiddled with it before lighting a cigarette. Cross turned on the TV across from them; it was a handful of years older than the newest model. A late night reality show neither of them actually really liked started playing. Killer flicked the lighter on and off absently as he watched, only to listen to the clicking and occupy his hand. The room started to smell like smoke. Though it’s not like it didn’t always already. 

They talked quietly about nothing in particular for two episodes of Cross’s show.

       “Surprised you didn’t just break in.“, “Y’know me, no promises.”, “How’s work?”, “C’mon, I missed you, baby.” 

Then,

“We should go to the coast.” Killer blurted suddenly. 

“Tonight.”

     He started, sitting straighter and pivoting to stare at Cross. The last bit of cigarette smoke trailed off limply from his mouth. 

       It had been an off, half-serious comment, but the more he dwelled on it the more he liked the idea. The more it became a desperate fantasy. The more excited he got. He hadn’t been anywhere outside the city in who knows how long. And he knew Cross had a truck. The drive probably wouldn’t be that long.

   And the thought of seeing the coast again, getting in that truck and getting out of this city for however long,

With Cross.

    He wanted to wake up in some dingy hotel somewhere with him.

     Cross paused. His face screwed up in skeptical consideration. “The coast? That’s like, a four hour drive.” 

“It’s, what, saturday? You could miss some work. We’d just go down and fuck around for a couple days and come back.” Killer persisted. He was not planning to let this go. 

Cross laughed dryly and Killer immediately knew he thought it was damn absurd. “It’s fucking ten at night.”

“It’d be worth it.” Killer pressed. “I swear.” 

“Would it?”

“With you? Anything’d be worth it.” Killer tried, grinning.

“I can’t miss work, I.. I don’t have that kind of money to just,” 

“I’ve got money.” Killer said immediately. Which, wasn’t the most true. And he knew Cross knew that. But he couldn’t know that. And whatever would help convince him. 

“We needa vacation. I needa vacation.” 

       Cross considered it, actually considered it, eyes on the TV across from them. He sighed in a rough almost-growl. Killer wondered if he felt the way he did, about escaping off to the coast. He hoped he did. God, he hoped he did. Or maybe he just thought it was stupid. That it was too late to drive that far.

    It was always like this. Killer persisting, trying to convince Cross, dragging him by the wrist. But hardly anywhere as far as the coast.

Killer’s lighter flicked open, then closed again.

     Cross’s eyelights darted up and directly met Killer’s dark sockets. His gaze was intense now. Burned hotter than it had.

The lighter clicked open.

“Okay,” Cross decided. “Fine.” 

     Killer’s soul churned.

The lighter clicked closed.

“Yeah? You in?” Killer asked almost desperately.

    Cross nodded. Just once, but that’s all it took. Killer’s grin bloomed wider, wildly. He had not on his life expected Cross to actually agree. He expected him to brush it off, shake his head. Say they couldn’t possibly. Say he was going to bed, that Killer should too. 

        Killer quickly leaned back over to grind his cigarette into the ash tray on the table beside the couch. Cross didn’t smoke, not hardly enough to need one, but Cross had shoved it into Killer’s hands one day and so there it stayed. 

“But don’t try anything stupid, alright? If we’re going this far we..” 

You 

“We can’t fuck it up.” Cross said. 

“Yeah, yeah, nothin’ stupid, you got it.” Killer agreed quickly as he bounced up off the couch. 

       Cross went uncharacteristically fast from the living room, through the conjoined kitchen, to his bedroom. Killer leaned on the doorway, watched Cross kneel on the carpet to shove pants and shirts into a backpack. He retrieved a wad of cash from a box that had been tucked under his bed and added it to the pile.  

       Killer retracted a moment in favor of the kitchen, where he took two canned drinks and a container holding some kind of unknown leftovers from Cross’s fridge. When he returned to the doorway Cross was slinging the backpack over one shoulder. He caught the drink tossed to him.

       Cross grabbed his jacket from its pile on the bed, hastily pulled it on, zipped, and jerked on the hood. They filed out of the apartment and Killer collected his own jacket on the way. Cross fiddled with keys in the vacant stairwell to lock his door, and as he was, Killer did his best to tie his soaked jacket around his waist. Then they were descending flights of stairs to the ground floor.

Pavement. Rain engulfed them as darkness closed in like an ocean. 

      Cross’s truck was parked where it always was. Doors were unlocked, opened, then closed as they piled inside. Cross slung his bag into the space between them. 

      For a moment they just sat in silence, there in the truck. Everything hung in the air. Cross gripped the steering wheel and scowled at the windshield. His chest rose and fell. Rain tapped on the roof, the windows, begging to be let in. The cab was barely flooded with light from a lone lamppost on the sidewalk. Killer pulled off the lid of his container, glancing down at his spoils. Leftover noodles. 

Killer looked back up and watched Cross. Waited.

He inhaled and keys met ignition.

         All Killer saw was the now-blurred stream of lights outside his window, but he was only focused on the promise of the coast ahead of them. He tipped the container up, dumping cold noodles into his mouth, then chewing, until the container was empty. 

         He leaned back, cheek propped on his hand against the window. He jostled with each bump of the cab. Droplets streamed across the glass.

“This is going to be a horrible idea.” Cross half muttered to himself. 

      When Killer glanced at him he saw his eyes were pinned to the road. Hands flexed on the grip of the steering wheel. 

“Relax, baby, trust me.” Killer cooed.

“Mm,” Cross hummed uncertainly. 

“Hey, if you wanna bail out and turn around we haven’t left town yet.” Killer said, making sure he made it sound almost like a threat, like they were back to square one and back in the gas station and Killer was planning to walk out with a pack of drinks. Like if Cross did it’d be his worst decision yet.

Cross paused a heartbeat, but shook his head and scowled harder at the windshield. “No,”

“And, think about it, all those parties I took you to weren’t that bad, were they?” Killer offered.

Cross’s knuckles clenched firmly on the steering wheel. 

“This isn’t just a party.” He murmured.

        As they drove, Cross was insistent on a budget. Killer obliged, and listened to Cross’s every condition. He went over how much he had brought, and decided they could get a room somewhere, food for two days, and gas. Maybe some things on the side if they weren’t expensive. Just what they needed, nothing needless. Killer nodded along as he repeated it, eyes just trained on the streetlights and the rain. 

       Cross drove all night. They only just reached the small coastal town that was their destination at around 2 am. When the rest of the world was long asleep. 

        It was a poor town with a small population. Out in the middle of nowhere, pressed up against the sea. Far from extravagant. Only filled with old battered houses and trailers, and the occasional board walk or dock or small shop selling who knows what. It was unkempt and overgrown, but not hostile, and Killer’s found it captivating for as long as he could remember. Even though he could barely ever get a ride out to it. 

      He had forgotten how much smaller it was than the city. Everything there was just tall buildings and concrete. But here, here you could actually see stars in the sky. 

       Killer awoke to an empty soda can hitting his shoulder.

“Get up, we’re here.” Cross murmured.

     Killer glanced around, rubbed at his face with his palms, and sat up straighter to peer out the window. 

“We’ll…” He searched, then gestured. “We’ll get a room at that place.”

    He had motioned at a motel, and it was just the same as the town it was in. Small, nothing pretty to look at. But it was cheaper than a hotel, Killer knew it well, and it was better than nothing. 

“There? Someone’s got to have been murdered there.” Cross observed monotonously.

“Makes it more exciting.” Killer offered. 

———

      Cross fished out his cash and pressed it firmly on the check-in desk. Killer leaned over it as they counted. The price for rooms had gone up since he had been here last, but they managed to fit Cross’s budget for two nights. Thankfully.

        Two keys were slid to them and they left the lobby.

        Their room was on the second of two floors. They walked up the stairs to it like near corpses, hoods covering their skulls. Killer moved ahead, glancing back at Cross. It was probably 2:40 am now. 

       Cross pushed room number 14’s door open, flicked on the light, threw his bag to the ground, took off his shoes, and promptly collapsed face first onto the only bed in the room. 

         It was a small space, furnished with a single full sized bed that had two tables either side, and an armchair in one corner. Each table had a lamp, and there was an old tv on a stand opposite the bed. The overhead light above them was dim and flickered periodically, like it was on its last legs.

         Killer kicked off his shoes and walked over to the glass sliding door that made up the back wall. It led to a balcony, and beyond it, Killer thought he could see the ocean. It was still raining, harder now. He could hear it. He grasped the handle,

He imagined hiding away in that downpour. 

“Don’t go outside,” Cross murmured. His voice was low, raspy. So Killer didn’t, and instead stared through the glass. 

     The sea was restless and turmoiling with the rain. Night’s darkness turned it into a vast almost-black abyss of nothing.

Cross murmured again. “C’mere,”

        Killer turned back to him. He was lying in a heap on the bed’s left side with his face buried in a pillow that he clutched with both arms. His jacket laid in a pile on the floor. Something in Killer pulled toward him, warmed him just by looking at him.

        Killer untied his jacket from his waist and it joined Cross’s. He slid under the sheets beside him. Cross shifted to his side to look at him. Killer looked back in turn.

“See? We’ve made it,” Killer whispered. 

    Cross hummed and pressed his eyes closed. Killer leaned his skull into his chest. He felt an arm partially go around him as he was eventually swallowed by unconsciousness. 

     Killer’s eyes flashed open. The room was almost entirely dark, save for whatever light could be scrounged from the balcony window. The lightbulb must’ve died. He slowly turned his head to stare at that window, not really actually seeing it. It was silent. His vision was fuzzed with the darkness and the smeared tar on his face. 

       He took a wandering glance and saw the shape of Cross’s body beside him, turned away on his side, shifting with his breathing. He closed his eyes again. 

    When he woke up the second time he was entangled with Cross. Cross had him wrapped loosely in his arms, holding him facing his chest. Killer’s leg lay sprawled over Cross’s, and a hand clutched his shirt. Everything was light now, golden early morning sunlight filtering through the sliding door and blue ocean sky was just barely visible from where Killer was. 

       He squinted against his newfound consciousness. It felt too early.

Cross was asleep. Killer was surprised he still was this late. But then he remembered the drive from last night. 

     Killer quickly shifted and let go of him. He just, laid there on his back a while. He didn’t see much; the tar ever-streaming from his eyes had smeared in the night like it always did. But he felt it. Felt Cross’s arm over his chest. Felt his other hand when he found it for a second among the sheets. It was all so warm.

      And for an instant he still thought there was nowhere else he’d rather be. Just for a moment. Just for a moment his soul was some semblance of still. 

    And it was so quiet. All he could hear was the waves and the occasional passing car. Nothing like the city. Part of him yearned for that noise again. But here, he was warm, and the sky was visible. And there was someone beside him. 

     He felt Cross shift. Cross’s eye sockets pried open and he squinted against his own newfound light. Killer beamed at him and he smiled faintly, tiredly in turn. Killer pressed back up against him, not as close this time. Cross closed his eyes again. And Killer never wanted to get up. 

     Eventually, Killer grew restless and he slipped out of the sheets.

      When he slid open the balcony door and stepped out onto it a breeze engulfed him. He wiped at his sockets with his wrist to clear his vision before hanging over the railing to look out at the sea. People already milled about on the beach below him.

    It was still warm, even outside and away from the sheets. And humid. Last night’s rain lingered in the puddles that hung on the railing. 

     When he came back into the room Cross stirred, barely awake again.

Killer greeted him. “Mornin’ sleeping beauty.”

Cross hummed. 

“Let’s go to th’ beach.” Killer decided as he stripped off his undershirt and pulled his jacket back on over his ribcage. 

    His lighter and cigarettes were dug out of his pocket and placed on the table at his side of the bed. 

     At first Cross just laid there, half asleep, watching Killer, with this stupidly fond expression on his face.

“You have shit all over your face.” Cross said with mild amusement.

     Killer huffed a laugh as he sat heavily down on the foot of the bed to pull his shoes on without socks. He was tying one when Cross stood up; and stretched out his arms while pondering the still-open balcony door a moment. 

“Really, first thing you wanna do is go to the beach?” He asked lightly, and Killer liked to think he seemed excited about the idea. 

“We’re here for a reason, aren’t we?” Killer replied. 

“Are we?”

      Cross had time to put on his shoes and grab his room key before Killer herded him out the door. Cross’s jacket stayed on the motel’s floor. 

       Killer led Cross, who was fully lucid now, to a small, stone tiled and weed-overgrown path around the back of the motel. Cover in the form of shade from the building hung over them. To their left was the chainlink gate enclosing the motel’s small pool, and in front of them was a wood-paneled fence. Sand spilled out at the bottom through the cracks in its boards. 

   Killer wasted no time; he immediately jumped the fence, kicking at it and pulling himself up to perch atop it.

“What’re you doing?” Cross called up to him. 

“Showing you what yer missin’,” Killer stated and dropped down the other side.

     He waited a minute. 

“Killer,” he heard his companion growl. But, Cross eventually followed, doing the same he did, and Killer took his hand to help him down. 

      During his last visits Killer learned quickly that they made you pay to get in at the actual gate, and every time after he’s made a point to find any other way of entrance that he could. The toll wasn’t absurdly high, but regardless it was high enough that he didn’t want to spend more money than he could help. And Cross would probably say something about it “not being in the budget”, too, and Killer couldn’t stand the idea of not getting to go to the beach while they were here. So might as well cut to the chase himself. 

      The ocean waves were louder now, and sand shifted under their feet. Killer breathed it all in. 

       The ocean was vast, only broken by the few sharp, large grey rocks that jutted out harshly from the sand in dispersed clusters along the coast.

       Killer quickly scrambled to pull his shoes off and now held both up by the heel in one hand. He spread out his arms enthusiastically, looking back at Cross, waiting.

          He was frowning back at the fence they had scaled, brows creased. But when he looked back at him and the ocean, Killer thought he was relaxed enough. More than he usually was, anyway. And his eyes sparkled ever just as he gazed out at the water. So Killer thought he’d take it. 

“C’mon, let’s go down to the water.” Killer said and started through the loose sand.

    Killer ran down to the edge, breached the wet compact layer just before it, and then his feet met sun-warmed water. Just in time for a wave to come in and sweep foam around his legs. 

“Get down here, pretty boy!” He shouted back to Cross, who lingered, up in the dry sand. 

Killer watched him pull off his shoes and pad down to stand at his side. 

    Killer eagerly went farther in, kicking at the incoming waves and disturbing the sand. A sea-misted breeze played with the fur of his hood, and the next wave that came in almost reached his knees. All while shadows of gulls chattering overheard dappled the water.

“So, we’ve just trespassed?” Cross commented when Killer turned to grin at him.

“Eh, fuckin’ who cares. No one monitors this place anyway.” Killer replied with the dismissive flick of his wrist. 

“If we get kicked out, it’s your fault.” Cross replied, though lightly, and Killer gave him a shove in the arm.

“Quit worryin’, nothin’s gonna happen. Trust me.” 

     Killer started wading through the water along the edge of the ocean, and Cross did the same just a few feet behind him.

     It was all a vast field of blue-green waves, warmed by the sun. Killer whirled to grin and kick a spray of water at Cross’s legs. Cross retaliated, but they were splashed by an incoming wave Killer hid face behind his arm from. He attacked his companion again, flinging up water with his hands at him. He thought he heard Cross laugh before he was smacked in the face by ocean water, which just made him laugh harder. Killer drank in the sound. 

        He jumped for Cross and wrestled him until they fell backwards into the waves. Killer’s grip tightened on his shoes so they wouldn’t get lost to the waves. 

     Both of their clothes were entirely soaked through now. But they laughed. Cross laughed, and Killer felt a little bit proud of himself. He’d done this. This was the break he was talking about. Part of that fantasy. And now it was real. 

       He didn’t hear Cross laugh often, not like this. Not enough. He loved it whenever he just, let go. When he got to see all of it. All of him.

          Cross pried away from the other to stand. Killer did shortly after, using Cross’s offered hand to pull himself up, and shouldered off his now-drenched jacket. He tied it around his waist.

          They retracted to trail along the edge of the water again. A glint of pink caught Killer’s eye and he bent down to dig a shell fragment out of the sand. He shoved it and another he came across into his pocket before standing to join Cross again. He tossed a third shell into the edge of a small oncoming wave and watched it land.

“You comin’?” Cross asked, the hint of a smile still lingering on his mouth. 

Killer jogged to catch up, flashing Cross a grin as he took his place beside him.

“I told you this trip’d be worth it.”

     Cross exhaled through his nose in a half-laugh. To think he was here, four hours away from his apartment, at a beach with the guy that flashed a knife at him the first night they met. But he was seeing the ocean for the first time since he could remember. And he admitted he was a bit fond of that guy. 

       They meandered about the beach for maybe another two hours as strangers milled around them. Killer lingered among the waves while his companion only really watched, amused, sometimes sitting by the sand. Killer was always drawn back to splash at him or try to drag him in with him. These efforts were only successful half the time, but that didn’t sway him. And it was worth it when they were. Cross would always tear back up, lighthearted danger in his eyes as he chased him. And so they would run after each other through awkwardly waist high water. Laughing. Laughing like nothing else but this mattered. Like nothing had ever happened, would ever happen. And Killer felt the warmth again, like he had that morning.

      Somehow, at a point they ended up close by the beach’s proper gate, where a stifled stream of visitors entered and exited from. Killer raised a hand above his brow and gazed at the entrance. After about a minute a monster who he gauged as an employee noticed him, then narrowed their eyes back at him, and just for a moment Killer’s soul whirred anxiously. He watched them wave down another employee nearby and say something to them, pointing right at him. Then his soul dropped.

        Both of these strangers started toward him, cueing Killer to swiftly pull back and turn around to rapidly bump Cross on the shoulder with his wrist.

“We gotta go.” He hissed. 

    He knew they recognized him now, like they’d had a bounty over his head from the many similar times before this. Either that or someone had seen them jump the fence and snitched. 

“What?” Cross replied, glancing over his shoulder.

“We gotta go, those guys’ve seen me.” Killer repeated.

“I thought you said they don’t monitor anything,” Cross said firmly.

“I didn’t think they would! I dunno what their deal is, but we ain’t gonna take any chances,” He pressed.

“Killer, you-“

“We gotta go, Cross” 

      Before he could argue more, say something, whatever, Killer tugged at his sleeve and ran for the fence, motioning with the quirk of his head. He already knew the people from the gate had to be following him, but he only glanced back at Cross to make sure he was. He saw Cross hesitate, but he inevitably ran with him. 

        When they were maybe two feet from the fence Killer heard one of their pursuers shout something, and he tore further ahead. Scrambling, he managed to pull himself back up over the barrier, but in his frantic escape his footing became uncertain and he fell the way down. 

“Shit,” He winced as he landed hard on his arm.

      As he sat up and pulled his shoes on, he wanted to glance over his shoulder, make for certain he was in the clear. But he knew all he’d see would be wood fence. And that didn’t make his breathing any less rapid. 

     Beside him, Cross dropped down heavily to join him on the other side of the fence. He quickly pulled his own shoes on and Killer stood up, scowling at nothing. He absently cracked his knuckles. His arm hurt. 

He cursed to himself. There goes the beach. So much for that plan. 

Fuck,

“God dammit.” He heard Cross curse. “If we’d actually gone through the gate,” 

      His voice was startlingly low, dangerous. He was not thrilled about this whole thing anymore. The ocean and the warmth, everything, that came with it was ripped away. He’d finally gotten out and Killer lost it just as soon.

“You wouldn’t catch me dead, that toll they make you pay’s a fuckin’ scam.” Killer snapped.

“Does it matter that much?” Cross asked.

Does it matter that much if we still lose it anyway.

“Yeah, it does. I’m not giving them shit.” 

“You probably woulda said something about your fuckin’ budget, anyway.” He added, in a huff under his breath. 

Killer exhaled before he traded his scowl for a grin he hoped looked confident. “Hey, there’s plenty else to do. Who needs the beach.” 

He said, as a dismissive.

Cross’s brows grew darkly uncertain and he focused on his shoes.

       The walk back was longer than the walk there. Killer was cold now, away from the warmth of the beach and in the shade of the buildings beside them, and he was hyper aware of how soaked his jacket was (he decided he preferred putting it back on to walking half naked through the street). And grass clung uncomfortably to his legs. And his arm hurt. 

       But he wasn’t particularly fazed. They’d go back to the room and dry off and then it’d be fine. This was far from the worst thing to happen to him. He’s had it worse. If anything, now that it was over, he was still riding the excitement of it all, of running, of jumping the fence before he could be caught. 

        He dared to glance at Cross, who was pacing silently by his side. He held his bare arms crossed over his chest, and his shirt was dark with sea water.

“You said nothing would happen.” Cross stated, hostility in his voice.

“I guess I was wrong.” Killer partially growled. But he wasn’t angry at him. He wasn’t sure what exactly he was angry at. 

“But that shit happens all th’ time, they’ll forget about us by next time.” Killer added confidently. 

     This wasn’t the first time he’s been confronted about jumping the fence. 

And, If there was a next time.

Cross just offered a firm “mm.” in response.

———

       Most of the sting that hung in the air faded by the time they made it back to the motel. Not completely, but enough. Thank god. It was starting to kill him. 

      The first thing Cross did when they got back their room was strip off his soaked shirt. Killer couldn’t help his eyes raking over his ribcage, and Cross gave him a knowing look with faintly colored cheeks, which Killer grinned at. Cross’s brows furrowed lightly in response. 

       The second thing Cross did was rummage through his bag and fish out fresh clothes, before he disappeared into the room’s singular bathroom.

Killer realized he hadn’t brought clothes. Or anything, really. 

        He toed off his shoes and padded over to crouch at Cross’s still-open bag. From it he scavenged a black t-shirt with some band’s telltale on it and a pair of basketball shorts. He held up and examined his spoils a moment, then stripped off his own clothes and pulled on Cross’s. The shirt was at least a size too big and he had to tie the shorts’ drawstrings to get them to stay up. He pressed his nose into the shirt’s collar; it smelled like it had been washed recently. And like Cross. Everything was warm again. 

          He located his knife where it had been concealed in his jacket and gripped the handle. Then he realized  he wouldn’t have anywhere to safely hide it in this new outfit, so back it went. A bit of him pricked anxiously like a needle at the notion of not having it. But it’d probably be fine, just for a day. Just for a day. 

      He was drawn to the far side of the room and shouldered open the balcony door to linger there. In a flare of spite he flipped off the beach, which remained unfazed, before the sand clinging to his feet caught his attention and he made an attempt to brush it off. After a minute he grew bored and ended up on his back on the bed.

      He propped himself up on his hands as the bathroom door clicked open and Cross padded out, drying his skull off with one of the motel’s towels. He wore a pair of jeans and a different shirt now.

      Killer sat all the way up before slipping off the bed and slinking over to Cross.

      Killer pushed through the towel, seeking his warmth. Cross turned away from him with very mild indignation at first, but Killer persisted, and he ultimately gave in to him when he kissed him. He held onto his tension, but he didn’t protest, and he tempted Killer with the hesitancy he gave when they pulled away. 

“Is that my shirt?” Cross commented. 

“Mmhm.” Killer kissed him again, now on the jaw by his neck, and Cross’s tension melted slightly.

    He eventually shifted, disrupting Killer’s touch, and looked down at him accusatorially. 

“What now?”

This was your idea, you should know.

Killer could probably come up with something.

      Their shoes and socks went back on, Killer retrieved his cigarettes, and then they were out of the motel again.  

       They found themselves on a board walk. Stores sat crammed side by side in a storied building to their left, and to their right a stirring sound held docked boats. Droves of civilians dressed in bright clothing crowded the area. They surveyed goods and snacked on refreshments sold at booths throughout the board. It was loud; everyone seemed to be talking or laughing or whatever else.

        Killer set his sights on the midst of the crowd, and waded through it with Cross beside him. In stark contrast to the beach, Cross kept close, pensive, hands firmly in his pockets. 

“We should get somethin’ to eat, yeah?” It’s prob’ly almost that time by now.” Killer suggested. Cross offered a stiff nod.

       Killer steered them over to the first decent place he saw. It was some bar, typical burger or sandwich place or whatever, and Killer had always known it to be expensive. But whatever. It’d be fine. Couldn’t be that bad. And expensive meant the food would be good, which they needed on a vacation like this. 

“Here?” Cross murmured skeptically as they approached.

“Yeah, trust me. This is the spot.” Killer offered confidently. He hoped he was right. 

        Killer pushed past the pub’s front door and slid into the first open booth he saw, which was tucked against a wall in the back. It was crowded. 

       When Cross picked up the menu and furrowed his brows Killer guessed his assumption was correct, and it was confirmed when he looked himself. Prime tourist spot, overpriced food. 

“I’ll pay you back.” Killer offered. It didn’t hold much weight, much sincerity. He said it so they could move on. 

“When have you ever paid me back?” Cross responded curtly.

       Killer repeated that it wouldn’t be that bad, that the food would be worth it, that they were on vacation and they should treat themselves, and Cross gave it up. So they ordered, waited, and then they ate. 

       Killer thought they should share an appetizer. Then a desert. The food was good, at least. It was really good, Killer thought. And Cross didn’t complain about it. So Killer became hopeful,  excited, even, that he’d been forgiven. 

      But, Cross still didn’t say really anything about it at all. He just scowled faintly at his plate and ate slow. They talked, and Killer still managed to make him smile faintly with a few comments. So he decided he’d take that. 

       When they left they continued their trip through the boardwalk. They passed booths, which they browsed. The air was warm from the sun again now that it’s light wasn’t obstructed, and a slight breeze played with their clothes. 

        At a point they were stopped. Killer saw Cross eyeing a popsicle stand. Killer glided to him and pressed up against him, grinning. He quickly located a wad of cash in Cross’s pocket and seamlessly slipped it into his fist. He danced back, proud of himself, and went for the stand. 

    He retrieved his spoils, then returned to Cross, and presented him with one of his prizes.

Cross looked at him. “You took money from my pocket.”

“Cross, it’s two popsicles.” Killer stated, and gestured with the one he held out at him. 

    Cross reluctantly took it, and Killer led them to a bench pressed against the water. 

      The collar of Killer’s shirt billowed gently against his neck with the wind as he sat. Cross stared off past him, absently, slowly licking at his popsicle. He had such an odd look of disconnection on his face. Like longing, almost. Maybe. 

“Let’s go back to the beach.” Killer blurted.

“Just to get kicked out again?” Cross replied.

“I know you want to, Cross. Let’s go back.” Killer pressed “Maybe if we go through the gate this time they’ll let us in.” 

“No, no it’s fine.” Cross murmured. “Not worth it.” 

“You’re lookin’ off like you just lost your puppy. Let’s just go.” 

“Killer, just drop it.” Cross sighed, his voice pricking with a sudden sharpness. 

So Killer dropped it.

——————

The rest of their trip felt like it happened in flashes. 

      They walked the boardwalk. Killer used the last of his cigarettes, so Cross bought him another pack. Killer thought they should go out on boat, so Cross rented them one for a few hours, even though neither of them really knew how to drive it. By the time they had gotten going the sun was already hinting at setting, because they had to allot for fiddling with how to work this thing. 

       Cross drove. They went nowhere in particular. The wind was much stronger, crisper, out on the water. It whipped in their ears and billowed their shirts. The sun cast everything in a bright wash. Like Killer was in a daze. He watched the glittering, swaying water. Watched Cross, too. Music played over the wind through a small, cylindrical speaker Cross had bought, too. Which was also Killer’s suggestion. 

       Killer sat on a bench against one of the ship’s sides while Cross stood at the wheel. He basked in it all. In the moment, he thought he’s never felt more alive. 

       Then, by evening, they were on the boardwalk again. It was darker, too, this close to the evening. Killer grew restless from not having his knife, and he compensated. He clashed with a few of the other passers-by because of things that were maybe a bit too small. Nothing severe, but Cross noticed. He felt the way he looked at him. The way he started feeling colder. 

       After another hour they were having dinner, where nothing changed. Like lunch had been, Cross was uncertain, but Killer assured him. The restaurant had a bar, and they drank some, too. Killer did, at least. Cross sat by his side, quietly, eyes on him. And like the food, Cross paid for everything. 

         Cross had grown reserved over the course of their outing, even. Talked less. Stayed tense no matter where they were. Eyes perpetually furrowed, shoulders perpetually tensed. 

“You don’t have to keep buyin’ shit! I’d be fine if you didn’t!” Killer said, almost shouted, after Cross had gone entirely quiet and strayed away as they were leaving the restaurant. 

“Yes, I do. You say that but I do. You didn’t even bring any money.”

“I said I had-“ Killer started immediately. 

“God, Killer, we both know that was a lie. You’ve been lying this whole damn trip.” Cross growled. “I know you’ve been chased out of that beach before, I know you don’t have money.” 

They both went quiet for a long time. No one passed them as they walked back to the motel. It was almost dark now. 

“I just wish you could leave it alone” Cross murmured, his voice vacant and cold.

“Hey, I got us out here, didn’t I? Got us out of that city?” Killer reminded him. As if he needed to be reminded. He could see the motel’s sign in front of them now.

“And I’ve still got pretty boys talking me home.” He added, letting the beer talk for a moment. 

“I drove, fucking, four hours, missed work, paid for all of this, because you said it would be worth it.” Cross countered. 

“Hasn’t it been?” Killer replied.

“Not anymore.” Walking up the motel’s stairs.

“I said we should go back to the beach.”

“I said you should drop it.” 

    Cross unlocked their room’s door. “God, it’s like you’re fucking with me. You told me to trust you, and I did. But you’re making it fucking hard.” 

“We can go back, tonight. The.. the gate’ll be closed by now, no one would bother us, really.” Killer said quickly, searching, stepping toward Cross. He wanted to salvage this. “We can still do something, forget about all that other stuff.” 

Cross’s voice rose “Shut up about the beach!” 

He stepped inside the room, Killer tentatively behind him.

“I have fun with you.” Cross said, standing in the middle of their room, eyes only on Killer. He had dropped the speaker he was carrying at some point, and it taunted Killer from the carpet. 

“I wanted to here, too. I thought maybe we really would get a vacation.”

He exhaled, partially growled, even. “…But I… I don’t know why I thought this would work. We should’ve just stayed home.” 

“I tried, okay!” Killer said firmly, his voice swelling with volume ever so slightly. “I… ‘s not like this is the worst we’ve had.” 

      But somewhere he knew Cross was right. This wasn’t the right time, right place. He’d rushed it, and fumbled to salvage it when it was already strained. 

But, god, he still wanted to make something out of this. He was chasing the warmth from the beach, from their first morning in the motel. Maybe even from those parties, when it was just them.

“We’re going back to the city in the morning.” Cross said sharply.

“C’mon, don’t be like that,” Killer tried, stepping toward him. 

      He was unsure. Maybe scared wasn’t quite the word, but he was panicking. He grappled for what to say, dove back to use what he always said as a crutch. 

He reached for Cross.

He saw him blur. Pain shot through Killer’s jaw, and his lip started to burn. 

    Cross’s breath caught in an inhale and his fist returned to his side. His eyelights pierced Killer like the sun, burning him. Part of Killer crumbled. 

       His finger went to his lip, where he found blood. Cross had given him a bloody lip.

     It’s just too bad Killer’s entire being was hardwired to lie. To be the way he was. He’s had to lie to survive for as long as he could remember. Old habits die hard, or however it goes. At least he hadn’t been lying about anything with Cross being worth it. 

      And he really didn’t understand why Cross was so pressed. Killer was used to jumping fences and getting chased out of places and lying about money. He should’ve known what he was getting himself into, coming here with him. Still letting him in every night. 

And yet, here Killer stood, tasting blood. Failing to make something of this. 

It’s too bad he was a liar. 

        Suddenly Cross had Killer by the collar of his shirt, his shirt, pressing a kiss aggressively to his mouth. It wasn’t soft, tender, like it usually was. It was forceful. Angry. Almost like he was strangling him, trying to suck the air from his chest. Tasting Killer’s blood, Killer tasting his own. But that just excited Killer more, but he still felt his warmth, all the same. 

‘Kiss me one last time.’

He had flown too close to the sun, chased the warmth too far, and was cast ruthlessly into his fire, burned to ash by it.

   Then, wordlessly, Cross tore away from Killer, picked up his bag, jerked a handful of clothes out of it, and threw it back onto the carpet so hard half of its contents spilled out. He vanished into the bathroom, door closing hard behind him. After a minute Killer thought he heard the shower running.

    The fire had melted Killer’s wings and he was plunged into the cold, infinitely daunting ocean. 

     He stood there stupidly for an eternity, hand lingering on his mouth. Finally he paced over to the bathroom door, raised a fist to knock,

    But he hesitated, and went back over to the balcony. 

     He whirled to stare at a wall, cracking his knuckles again and again even when they stopped popping. He took a step back toward the bathroom but only got halfway. He kicked angrily at the speaker sitting on the floor as he turned back toward the balcony door. 

     He’s never been so unsure of what to do with himself. 

      He considered slipping back behind the motel and jumping the fence, running down to beach and the rocks again, now dark and empty with the night. Wouldn’t have to deal with whatever this was there. And he almost did, fuck he almost did. 

He wanted to hide away. 

     Except it was raining again, and the motel was warm. And something kept him planted here, despite his instincts to run. He glanced back at the balcony door.

‘Don’t go outside’ Cross’s voice echoed. 

He wanted to hide away. 

     He eventually settled for sliding under the sheets, on his side and turned away from where the bathroom came out. He contemplated trying to sleep but instead he ending up just staring at the wall and empty bed in front of him. He was so tired. After a minute he felt like he was going to drown in that ocean and he shifted to his back, now listening to distant sound of running water. His blood buzzed, pounded in his ears, with everything that happened. The sheets and Cross’s shirt grew wet from the tar streaming now-harder from his sockets. He couldn’t tell if he was excited, pissed, or guilty. Or if he even felt anything. He couldn’t process it, register what it meant.

He tasted blood. 

     He’d been too fucking stupid this time. He’s never had Cross do something like that before. And he hadn’t said sorry. Neither of them had. Though, Cross probably didn’t expect anything less. 

      Yet, part of Killer was thrilled by the rush of everything. It was electrifying. Burning. He didn’t know Cross had it in him, and now he wondered just how much there was. How much there could be. The metallic taste of blood was electric in his mouth, fueling him.

And Cross had still kissed him. But not like he usually did. 

Killer turned to his other side. 

        After what had to have been an hour, it felt like a lifetime, there were soft approaching footsteps and the bed shifted as Cross laid down. Killer knew he had his back turned. He’s never felt so far away. Just like the night before, when the overhead light had died.  

     Part of him wondered if this was kinda how Cross felt. All those nights Killer had vanished through the window by morning. 

They pretended to fall asleep. As if either of them could sleep after that. Eventually Killer actually did, if you could even call it sleep. It was restless. In and out for most of the night. Too much in his skull.  

      Morning came not soon enough and Killer woke up tired. Woke up feeling alive. His lip was still bloody. 

     They drove back to the city as early as they could. Cross didn’t say much. Killer guessed he had gotten most of whatever he had out of his system that night. 

       Killer acted like everything was normal. Said the stuff he always says, acted the way he always acts. What else could he do? If this abnormality kept up for any longer he thought it might kill him. 

      And eventually, after a week or however long it was, they made up. Some semblance of it anyway. Moved on to something else. Cross still left his window unlocked sometimes, despite it all. And even later down the line, when it was dark and they were pressed close, just them and the alcohol that hung to their rental suits, they would talk about it again. And Killer would apologize, then. And he would mean it. 

      But, back in the present, Killer thought it hadn’t been that bad. They got to go to the beach. He got to go to the beach. With Cross. Like he always kind of wanted. So at least that was something. 

     Though, sometimes Killer thinks he can still almost taste the bloody lip Cross left him with that night.

This is Mimic Papyrus.

This is his basic personality so far. He is aware of the timelines, along with Sans. He is not your typical Papyrus. As his name suggests, he Mimics other Papyrus in order to get what he wants.

‼️REPOST MY ART PLEASE ‼️

YAAAAY I'M BACK IN THE FANDOM AGAIN!!

HIII

Drops my discord server and runs away

# X TALE

`Welcome, my friend to X Tale.`

🧡

💛 💜

❤️

💚 🩵

💙

`We are a small X Tale themed server with many different things to offer, such as-`

- Art Sharing

- A Fun Community

- A Safe Space for All

- Roleplay

- Cosplay

- An Active Server

And Much Much More!

`We always love seeing a new face, and yours looks just perfect!`

❌🟣❌⚫❌⚪❌🟣❌⚫❌⚪

https://discord.gg/kFA3PJcRDv

HIII

Drops my discord server and runs away

# X TALE

`Welcome, my friend to X Tale.`

🧡

💛 💜

❤️

💚 🩵

💙

`We are a small X Tale themed server with many different things to offer, such as-`

- Art Sharing

- A Fun Community

- A Safe Space for All

- Roleplay

- Cosplay

- An Active Server

And Much Much More!

`We always love seeing a new face, and yours looks just perfect!`

❌🟣❌⚫❌⚪❌🟣❌⚫❌⚪

https://discord.gg/kFA3PJcRDv

HIII

Drops my discord server and runs away

# X TALE

`Welcome, my friend to X Tale.`

🧡

💛 💜

❤️

💚 🩵

💙

`We are a small X Tale themed server with many different things to offer, such as-`

- Art Sharing

- A Fun Community

- A Safe Space for All

- Roleplay

- Cosplay

- An Active Server

And Much Much More!

`We always love seeing a new face, and yours looks just perfect!`

❌🟣❌⚫❌⚪❌🟣❌⚫❌⚪

https://discord.gg/kFA3PJcRDv

HIII

Drops my discord server and runs away

# X TALE

`Welcome, my friend to X Tale.`

🧡

💛 💜

❤️

💚 🩵

💙

`We are a small X Tale themed server with many different things to offer, such as-`

- Art Sharing

- A Fun Community

- A Safe Space for All

- Roleplay

- Cosplay

- An Active Server

And Much Much More!

`We always love seeing a new face, and yours looks just perfect!`

❌🟣❌⚫❌⚪❌🟣❌⚫❌⚪

https://discord.gg/kFA3PJcRDv

So Mimic Papyrus.. any crushes??? Anybody you like? Maybe a certain skeleton? OR a robot? Tell us!!!!

LIAR

Reblogs appreciated :3