The C and N Show

The karaoke on the other side of the bar is becoming increasingly harder to ignore.

It had been a very simple endeavor of tuning it out when you first walked in with Horror about half an hour ago, ready to modestly party in celebration of Birch's first job (and to lightheartedly bother him), but now the atmosphere is downright unbearable.

Or.. maybe you're just becoming irritable.

You weren't paying attention to what Birch was mixing into the colorful and fun drinks you were pointing at.

You wanted to challenge him and his brand new mixology certification, and chose what looked like the two most aggravating drinks to craft up.

His face was so focused and tensed that you could've sworn you heard a band in his braces snap. Aside from what you think needs to be another visit to the orthodontist to get that checked out, he made your drinks like it was childs' play.

It certainly looks like Birch earned that certificate.

…Anyway, you think there was tequila in both of them. That's what you were trying to get at.

Tequila gets you pissed off for, like… about half an hour. You can walk this off in a minute, it'll be fine.

You're sure the karaoke sounds great… But you still want to snap the microphone from out of that girl's hands.

There is very suddenly a gruff and drawling voice that sounds almost inside of your head, but it's actually just to your immediate left. "i c'n almost smell the anger on ya, l'il."

You look over in time to see him menacingly sit up a little in his bar stool, almost.. posturing? What?

"…You can?"

"no." And then he casually waves over his brother like he didn't just purposefully startle you.

You hate this guy.

Horror's a piece of shit sometimes, but he's also really cute, so you suppose he can be quickly forgiven.

Birch comes bouncing over—almost literally—"MORE FRIES?"

Your most recently emptied glass is gestured to, "two of whatev'r the hell ya gave 'em. red sparkly.. shit."

The bartender's eyelights comically squint behind his large glasses, looking deep into Horror's with a serious everything that tells you Birch is very suddenly in protective brother mode. "ARE YOU SURE? IT'S GOT… …" Birch suddenly leans obnoxiously forward at the hip, and honest-to-God genuinely whispers, something you didn't know he could do, "It has monster alcohol…"

You butt in, "I drank monster alcohol?"

A large and nicked hand drops onto your head in the worst head pat ever, "yer fine." And back to his brother, "i'll take it."

"BUT YOUR… REGULATION…"

His huh?

Horror just shrugs at whatever that meant, and you audibly hear Birch gulp in response to what seems like his older brother's bad decision(?).

You'll ask later. Sounds like Horror's not gonna be the 'designated shortcutter', which is fine. You guys can catch a bus when you're done bugging Birch, it's cool.

He's sloshed.

And during the lecture you just front-row witnessed Birch lay out on Horror, you learned that this intolerance is only applied to monster alcohol.

A monster could get a fix—a minor one, typically—on human alcohol, but your beverages aren't the same.

What gets a monster actually drunk is the magic within their drinks. It spikes their mana lines, giving them that inebriation.

And that mention of 'regulation' you overheard was apparently Horror's issues regulating his mana. Originating from his injury. A disability(?). So… in short, his tolerance was critically shot.

Both boys thought it would be alright enough for Horror to have some liquor, because he's a pretty tough guy and it's been years since the blow to his head, but wow that didn't work out—

Your barstool is almost pulled out from under you when Horror grips the frame of it and jerks you toward him.

You would've gotten immediate vertigo if he hadn't dropped his heavy head atop your's, shocking you out of the minor dizzy spell from being yoinked.

…There's a purr building within his throat, which you very vividly feel rumbling against the crown of your head where he's aggressively nuzzling you.

Okay. This is becoming an issue.

Well..! Not really, no. You live for his attention and his overwhelming cuddles, but maybe not at a bar and in front of his younger brother.

He pulls at your middle and nearly yanks you off your seat and onto his, which would have been his lap because he takes up his entire stool.

You managed to catch yourself with a hard palm to his shoulder, keeping yourself seated where you're meant to be.

Let's not get Birch fired on his first day off training. You need to get Horror home before a scene is caused.

You catch the lanky one's attention when he circles back, waving your wallet at him in a signal.

He takes the briefest of glances at Horror, his rapidly deteriorating state, his grip on you, and immediately nods in understanding. Yeah, the bear's got to go. He knows his brother'd be safest with you.

…Okay, but am I safest with him?

The bus ride home could not possibly be any farther away from your place. The road feels so unnecessarily stretched out.

It's not all that crowded in here, although there's plentiful enough people looking at you for you to feel more claustrophobic than what's actually encompassing the entirety of you.

Horror is a brick wall of warmth, on what is metaphorically like all four sides of you.

Instead of the three combined seats you guys typically take up together (because he's a big boy and needs two), it's been narrowed down to that simple two—he is almost sitting on you. Enough so that a seat's been freed up.

His far leg is slung over the both of your's, almost folding himself over you, his arms right around your shoulders in what could look like a chokehold from another angle, and you're right back with his head on top of your's.

The purr is stronger, and this time audible. He sounds like a big, happy predator cat.

He could also be mistaken for a motorcycle in the distance.

Thinking of him as an oversized, cuddly cat is funnier, though. You feel like you're his childhood kitten toy that he's found after all these years, and he doesn't want to lose you again.

…Remembering cute cat videos like that is a really good distraction for the fact that you're being cuddled to death on public transportation.

His next purr cuts to a grumble that you feel vibrate your head, and you get squeezed into what's just about to be a true chokehold.

You frantically tap at his forearms like you're tapping out of a wrestling match—"Horror."

And then he whines.

Stars have actual mercy. You're never letting him drink again. In fact, you're restricting his diet to WATER just to be safe.

"We're almost home. You can go to bed soon." And water. You're going to make him have water.

…Wait, what helps monsters come off mana spikes?

A quick phone call balanced between your shoulder and ear as you juggle a bear and house keys… isn't pretty.

In fact, it's almost like you're inside of a fever dream. You've taken care of Horror before, sure, but he's gone actual 'baby mode'.

Is this typical of drunk monsters? Or is this something specific to him? …Actually, you really think you're okay not knowing.

You are babysitting an overgrown dog that would only feel close enough if he were buried beneath your skin.

…Clifford. Clifford The Big Red Dog.

Well, you've got his next Halloween costume in mind.

You should consider your obituary next. And maybe a set of keys that isn't so horrendously hard to wrangle. You can not for the life of you unlock your front door, and it doesn't help that you're being insistently tugged left and right by your boyfriend.

—All this tugging has distracted you.

You fix your phone before it slips from where it's pressed to your ear, offering your (not really) free hand for Horror to occupy himself with. "Sorry, what did you just say, Birch?"

There's the clatter of customers in the background, but he's making the multitask work just about as well as you are, "THE ONLY THING HE CAN DO IS SLEEP IT OFF. THERE'S NO 'QUICK FIXES' FOR MONSTER ALCOHOL CONSUMPTION LIKE THERE IS WITH HUMANS."

"You must be lying."

There's a pause. "WELL… YOU COULD GET HIM TO DRAIN UP HIS EXCESS MAGIC, BUT I WOULD IMAGINE THAT'S NOT ON THE TABLE WHEN HE'S UNDER THE INFLUENCE AND CAN'T MAKE PROPER DECISIONS FOR HIMSELF."

…Ah.

You finally get the key in the damn knob, "Yep, sounds like we're going to sleep—"

You're yanked. Broken through a shortcut right inside, dropping everything to the carpet in your panic, the both of you crashing sideways on your couch, just as you proclaimed victory against the door and made a plan.

"HELLO?" Birch calls out from the floor.

…

A third drink is about to be required. You're on the cusp of losing your marbles.

There is finally a stillness.

It did not take a whole lot of effort to convince Horror to free you from the couch. The prospect of a more comfortable space piqued his interest so fully that you were lifted with a speed typically reserved for someone smaller than him.

He made the mightiest work of bringing you bridal into your bedroom, where he placed you in the middle of your mattress and then laid himself right on over you.

You'd whine about needing a blanket, but he is radiating enough heat for you to be genuinely comfortable.

It's nice. You're finally away from the chaos of it all and are somewhere you're much more in control of.

…Well, you're not really in control of what's happening, but it's leagues better than what you originally had to work with.

He's listening to more of what you're saying. He's quiet and still. He's being all sweet.

Horror's mellowing out. He must be enjoying the privacy and safety of your bedroom, too. A familiar space. Dim-lit and comfortable.

You certainly feel that way about safety and comfort. And you're loving being out of the spotlight of public.

You're out of that horrible situation. It's okay to relax and be still. To allow yourself to be held and used as his source of comfort.

He's being used as a source of comfort, too, so it's not like you're being scammed.

Horror makes a move, suddenly deciding he wants more of you.

You're scooped clean around your middle, where he squeezes and pulls at like he's about to lift you from the bed, and he does.

He takes you upright with him and then drops to his side, again taking you with him.

The two of you now facing each other. The black iris within his red eye the roundest and most blown out you've seen of him. Again reminding you of a very big and happy cat.

It's warbling, too. Something you very intimately recognize as an affectionate expression; one he looks at you with often.

And then, while tucking you under his chin and in his arms, he grumbles, "i love you.."

…

You don't think you've ever been more parental over a boy in your entire life. You have got to give this man everything you have.

His hug is returned. The most enthusiastically you've moved since the start of this shit show.

As far around his upper body that you could wrap your arms around, you couple it with doing your best to twine his heavy legs with yours, which he happily helps with.

And to top it all off, you decide to draw a hand upward to the back of his head, massaging the base of his neck.

He melts in to you even farther, his deep purr returning.

The only man that managed to instill fear in him in his recent years, much like his late father. Yet now, he can't bring himself to look at him that way.

Ironically, when he sees him now, the first word that comes to mind was…

...

Skull looked similarly tense, like a battle was fighting inside his mind. How did Hit never notice a monster like him? Surely he'd been out of the apartment since he started keeping tabs on your little group. Hit would've been a lot more cautious otherwise. It was easy to see why he frightened people so much, that… one eyed stare and open skull. That orb of red that felt like a spotlight to your very soul. Especially now, with his sockets wide and his pupil shrunk, he looked like a real killer, with that colossal build.

Hit might… admire that now, rather than fearing it. He wondered what the monster thought of him now.

"Hit? How are you doing..?" You broke the silence, cautiously, holding onto Sans’ arm. The air was tense with their magic.

With a simple shift of his hand, he sends the other 3 skeletons jumping, with 'Blue' pushing you further back, Red half-heartedly summoning a bone that quickly fizzles out, and Skull… simply twitching.

He put his hand on the back of his skull, looking to the floor.

"ya can relax. i'm not gonna do anything to any of you. no reason to. how… how can i? what would i even do? i should’ve been home right now," He's never sounded so weak before.

He scanned the room again, and stopped at Skull. He felt… shame?

i wish dad was more like you.

“'i’m… sorry for intrudin’, though not much i could’ve done about it. i would stayed longer, but i think it’s better for all our sanities if i wasn’t in the same room as all of you. i’ll go home without a hassle, just… don’t make me wait in here.”

He couldn’t stop looking at Skull. Why did he look so worried?

He couldn’t bare to look at you anymore. Or him, for the matter. Why did he look so… worried?

“hit,” Skull said quietly, taking a step forward. But Hit didn’t want to hear it— whether it was an angry confrontation or talk about feelings— he wanted no part in it. He turned and escaped through the door.

Hit moved down hastily, clumsily. He thought he was strong. He thought he was past this. His magic, uncontrolled, the scent of anxiety. He’s learnt for years how to keep his magic in check to make it unreadable for other monsters, and yet he couldn’t do it this time. He's been through so much, seen so much— done so much. It should be as easy as breathing. Yet being faced with the four people he wanted to forget, now mixed with all those… memories. It made him remember the early days, when he was still learning the streets, when his father yelled at him for the smallest things.

Then, they changed to something recent. He remembered the joy he felt when soft hands found him, the tickling of the cheek, the babytalk, accompanied by nose nuzzles to his face. He remembered pinecone, sleeping on a shoulder, a soft, washed jacket as his pillow. He remembered the embers of the one who played with him, pretending to die under his little hands, seeing teeth that was so familiar, almost familial. Then…

The smell of snow. Regret. Shaking hands, petting his skull.

"i'm sorry,"

A thumb phalange, wiping away little tears, shushing sounds he had no control over.

Pressed into a ribcage, a hand softly patting his back, a quiet lullaby.

"i couldn't… i didn't… i shouldn't have done that. can you forgive me?”

Tiny hands on a large marred face, an empty socket and one light that he wanted to touch, for some reason.

"what the hell am i supposed to do with this," He growled, half-heartedly, pinching his nasal bridge and dropping into a seat on the steps. He didn’t care. He was supposed to be gone. But he's still here. He had been here for the last month. He was supposed to be home, he should’ve never seen those faces again. He didn’t want to. He should be moving on already, taking a break in his home, let his brother run the business for a while before he was ready to be 'normal' again.

How was he supposed to be normal when his enemies took him in and nurtured him? Sure he was a baby… but he was him.Why did they have to be so kind to him, so much so that he had fond memories with them now, mixed with all the bad ones?

Heavy steps creaked down the stairs. He imagined a human, awkwardly trying to get past the big skeleton sitting at the bottom. He hoped it was. Instead of rushing ahead of him however, they stopped right beside him. He didn’t want to look at them. He had a guess who it might actually be, and he hoped he was wrong.

Phalanges land on his shoulder.

“hit,”

shit.

“can we talk?”

Hit’s claws tugged on the fabric of his pants. oh fuck me, he thought, dragging his hand down his face. It was a bit strange, the absence of rings on his hand made it feel so much smoother. He kind of liked it.

Hit averted his eyelights as Skull takes a seat next to him, the both of them taking up the whole corridor.

“um… sorry. for scaring you,”

“ah, don’t worry about it big guy. i didn’t leave cuz’ i was scared of ya,” Hit tries to wave him off, but he finds Skull’s eye slightly below eye contact, on his cheek.

He makes a pained look. “are you sure-?”

“goddamn- yes, yes! i’m fine, seriously,” Hit grimaced. “now would ya stop starin’ at it?”

He didn’t mean to come across so aggressive, but it was natural for him. Hit doesn’t like being looked down upon, being seen as weak. He had to be aware of that kind of stuff in his type of work, learned to take major offense from any kind of slight to his power. Usually, he’d get in their space and loom, growl out his words to make sure the other would never make the same mistake twice.

Though… right now he doesn’t feel like a powerful boss. More like a feeble teenager trying to prove he’s a 'big boy’ to his parent. The magic trickling to his cheeks was sign of that. He might actually be feeling embarassment right now, sitting beside a monster he knew first-hand was stronger than him, and there was nothing he could do about it. And said monster was being sympathetic to him.

“oh… sorry. didn’t mean to. i’m just worried about it,”

“hmph. you can’t tell me you’re sorry for doing it though,”

Skull thought for a while. Then, “no, you’re right. i don’t regret… doing what i had to, to save her. but i do regret… putting that mark on your face.”

Hit hums in response, swiping two phalanges over the crack. For anyone else the left-over pain would make them flinch, but he’s not going to let himself be humiliated more than he can deal with.

“ah, it still hurts a little, i guess,” he lied, wondering how long until it didn’t hurt. “but it ain’t enough to kill me. see, i’m tough. i took a pounch from a behemoth like you and i survived, didn’t i?… stop lookin’ at me with that sad face, it makes me feel weird. i ain’t worried. actually this’ll look good on me when i go home. another scar on my face might make more guys scared of me. doesn’t that sound nice?”

Why wasn’t Skull’s face changing? No wait… actually he was smiling a little.

“i know… what it’s like to have people stare at you. i don’t like it either. some people get scared, some people think you’re some sad dog they need to take care of. but then you’ll find people who look past that. don’t worry,”

Damn. He wasn’t even thinking about that. Did it show on his face subconsciously? He’s way too old and experienced to be worried about being judged for appearances like that. Besides, he isn’t a stranger to scars, though this one was… obvious. Still, somehow Hit was able to take what Skull said into his head.

“i’m not. i’m not worried.” He hated that heartbroken look on Skull’s face that told Hit he wasn’t convinced. “seriously, skull… skully. i’ll be fine. ‘sides… why are ya worrying about hurting the guy that tried to steal the love of your life? you should be prouder— i’d be, if i were you. punching him so hard that i left a permanent mark on his face. that’s gotta feel good,”

Skull didn’t look happy about it. “i used to be proud about it,”

used to be?

“but hey. she’s worth all of that, ain’t she?”

Finally, he got the big guy to smile. “yeah,”

…

“aren’t you… still mad about that?”

“about what?”

Hit exhaled. “don’t lie to me, you know what i’m talking about. that i kidnapped her. i remember the look on yer face when ya were comin’ for me. i ain’t gonna forget that any time soon. you have every reason to hate me, i was getting ready for ya guys to jump me up there.”

Skull looked uncomfortable.

“we were all just waiting and watching to see how you were gonna act, if you were gonna go back to fighting us or not. i don’t know how to properly explain it… i’m still scared. and angry. more than angry, that someone could’ve taken her from us, from me, somewhere none of us could reach, forever. i hated you. but… for some reason, that hit and this one,” Skull gestured about him, “you’re just not the same person in my head.”

“hm.” Hit supposed he could kind of see it. Definitely the Skull that crashed through his basement door and the one that held him were different people in his head. But still.

“the… the scar. kind of helps. sorry,” Skull elaborated.

“no skin off my bones,” Hit dismissed him, tracing a finger down the line again. They sat in silence for a while as Hit gathered his thoughts. “y’know, i wouldn’t blame you if you don’t believe me. it ain’t been long, but… i really do regret what i did to her. it was hard, looking at those pretty eyes, all worried about me just now. everytime i look at her i remember the face she made when i was draggin’ her to the machine, that horror. i mean, i couldn’t look at any of you properly but she made my head hurt. and my chest. it’s still all weird,”

He grabs his chest, feeling the indentations of his ribs.

“i mean, hell, i didn’t need more proof that what i did was wrong and she deserves to be with the three of ya, why did i need to be reminded of it? why couldn’t i just process all this at home?” Hit shook his head. “it would’ve been better if i never met her, if i wasn’t so tempted to look for her. i could’ve just focused on gettin’ home. then i wouldn’t have this… this—!”

He clutched his rib, trying to stop his thoughts.

“hit,” Skull tried to interrupt, but Hit held his hand up.

“skull, do you know i remember all that? it’s all hazy but, i remember when all of you picked me up and took care of me. no real thoughts in this noggin’, just bein’ all happy and… shit. ya should;ve tossed me out and orphaned me at least. it’s what ya were planning to do, wasn’t it?”

Skull glared at the floor. His voice was barely above a whisper. “it was wrong.”

“why?? i woulda done it. you know i deserved it, you hate me. i mean all of them do but, you especially. ya wanted me dead! and i ain’t trying to guilt you or say that it’s wrong or whatever, i’m just statin’ the obvious. it would’ve been so easy, i had no way of fightin’ back. i remember you growlin’ at me. so why didn’t you?”

He shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth like this. Was he trying to agitate the guy that had him on the ropes not too long ago? He doesn’t even know why he’s pursuing this so much, why he’s desperate for an answer. He’s not dumb. He was no stranger to grudges, so why did it seem like it all but evaporated from Skull?

“that’s exactly why,” Skull’s voice was quiet, remorseful. “you were just a baby, hit. even if you used to be this, a baby doesn’t know what it did. how could little hit know he did all that? all you wanted was food, and someone to hold you when you were sleepy. i did treat him the same way i would treat you, at first, but that wasn’t fair. y/n reminded me of that. you weren’t hit. i wasn’t dishing justice by threatening hit. i was… scaring a little babybones.”

Hit’s brows were high up on his face, sockets wide.

He was upset, head hanging low, eye shaking in its socket. “you… y-you were just a baby. and i wanted to hurt you. that’s unforgiveable.”

Then he turned to Hit, that swimming iris stabilizing somewhat.

“i guess that makes the two of us,” he smiles tiredly.

Hit’s bewildered expression fell into knitted brows, his eyelights dimming.

“i… suppose that makes sense.” my head fucking hurts. “but what now? i’m big adult hit now. why aren’t ya pummelling me back to my universe?”

That surprised a laugh out of Skull, which he quickly stifled, dark blue staining his cheeks. Then he looked straight ahead, at something far away in his mind.

“i held you in my arms. i cried. asked for your forgiveness, and you gave it to me. i expected you to cry everytime you saw me, but after that night, you reached for me. you played with my fingers, you snuggled when i carried you to sleep. i fell asleep with you on my chest. how can i hate that? i know i said the baby’s different from you because he’s innocent but, i just can’t do it. feels like you and him are…”

He grimaced, unable to find the words. Instead, he turned to Hit with a hesitant expression.

“do you? hate us?”

Hit blinked.

“god no,” Hit answered instantly. “i mean. i sure tried for a bit, but don’t ya remember what i said? i remembered all that. maybe not all of it, but i got it in here,” Hit tapped his skull, “i remember bein’ babied. i think i even remember what you’re talking about. i remembered that sad magic coming out of your eye and… wanting to touch it.”

Skull was watching him, enraptured, he didn’t know that pupil could be so dilated.

“you felt… hhh, you felt like,”

The words stuck in his chest, fingers on his forehead. He stuttered for a bit before he changed subject.

“you know, my dad sucked. ass at his job of raisin’ us. did uh… did ‘red’ tell ya about it?” Hit took his hand off his face.

Skull scoffed. “oh, yeah.”

“well, we probably have the same childhood. but… i suppose he never mentioned the fact that his dad had a ‘family business?”

Skull shakes his head.

“makes sense, i guess he hadn’t gotten the chance to see the surface,” Hit continued. “my dad, he… he expected this tiny thing, barely half his size, to do all this work to help the ‘business’. hold up the image, be good at killin’, made example of his enemies right in front of our faces when we were jus’ babybones. i know you guys ain’t raise me until i was a teenager or anything, but i suspect ya wouldn’t have done the same things he did.”

“ha! if it was my choice i’d be the one killing people who even thinks of hurting you. then i’d tell you when you were big enough,”

The sentiment actually made Hit smile.

“mean… guess i don’t remember actually being a bab with him like i did with you. but i remember those younger years. dad was never ‘round, of course. he expected me to just take care of myself, and when pappy showed up, he expected me to take care of him too. we were both small. but he’d still get mad when i wasn’t doin’ my ‘job’ right, threw his hand at me and pap whenever we annoyed his sensitive pelvis,” Hit spat. He didn’t know it at the time, but Skull saw an unmistakenly ‘Red’ flair in his eyelights when he did, a familiar resentment, though… sharper.

“then all this happened,” Hit threw his hand in the direction of your flat. “yeah i remember ya being scary but… to be honest, it was familiar. reminded me of him,”

(Un)surprisingly, that seemed to trouble Skull, the edges of his mouth pulling down.

“then, you stopped. and did all that bullshit,” if Hit had his hat, he would’ve thrown it on the floor. “what am i supposed to do now, huh? the guy who put this crack on my face is the same guy that cried about makin’ a baby sad and held my hand with two fingers. what are we supposed t’do now, huh? i shouldn’t be so mad but… ya went and made me happy?and safe and lo—…”

He rapped his phalanges over his closed eye sockets.

“ya just couldn’t stop at beating me down huh? had to make me remember dad too,”

Skull chuckled, a rich, warm sound. “sorry. but, i feel the same. i don’t really know what to do,” he admitted, putting a hand on Hit’s back. “i shouldn’t feel as much as i do for you, but i do. my advice? just don’t kidnap her again. if you do i might see you as the old hit again, heh.”

Hit snorted. “not happenin’, big guy,”

The two skeletons sat in silence for a while, looking everywhere but to each other. Hit couldn’t stop thinking about how different the past and the present was. A month wasn’t long, but it felt like an eternity. Blissful eternity.

Hit sighed.

fuck it.

“y’know,” his hands hung in the air awkwardly, “you’re a way better dad than he ever was, even if it was just for a while, and all the growlin’ at the start… thank you.”

Skull’s eye wobbled again. Hit’s no good with these things, his eye was filling his socket and his pupil was as dilated as ever, edges losing its focus. His shaky breaths would’ve scared anyone if they couldn’t read the soft magic coming off his—

Skull wrapped his arms around Hit, and he raises his hands instinctively, anticipating a threat— a grapple?!— before he realized… he’s being hugged. Skull is hugging him.

“uh,” Hit’s eyelights shrink, flickering this way and that. His fingers twitched. He swallowed. Then… he reciprocated.

“i wish i could’ve been your dad,” Skull fessed, smiling stupidly wide.

Hit pressed his teeth together. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone, especially to himself, with how warm that sentence made him feel. He wanted to deflect, say something snarky to wash away this gentle mood that fell around them— but a few globs of magic building at the edges of his sockets betrayed him.

He coughed, quickly wiping his tears(?!) before pulling away, smiling self-consciously. “thanks. i, heh, probably would’ve turned out better if you did.”

“right now? yeah? before her? i’m not sure.”

Hit only managed to get a chuckle out, when footsteps were heard coming down the stairs, light and weak.

Some young human man strolled down the stairs absentmindedly, eyes glued to the phone. He noticed the two monsters blocking his path only a few steps away from them.

Two pinprick red eyelights and one large orb stared back at him. Hit only raised his brow at him, while a wave of malicious glee seeped from Skull’s wide, unfriendly grin.

“Oh, shit—” he said under his breath, Hit could practically see the sweat rolling down him. “Sorry! Don’t uh… I didn’t see! You! Uh, yeah, go do whatever you need to man, haha! Have the stairs as long as you want!”

A low growl starts deep from Skull’s ribcage, just loud enough for him to hear. The human jumped and practically tripped over his own feet as he scrambled back up the stairs. They heard the slam of a door, and clumsy jingling of keys as he probably missed the hole attempting to relock the door.

The two skeletons turned slowly back to each other. Then, start to laugh.

“someone you know? or a racist?”

“both,” Skull smirked. “some dipshit that tried to snag a date with y/n some time ago. then he went kind of crazy talking about ‘monsterfuckers’. we managed to scare him off, with her help even. uh, she doesn’t know that we made all these plans to drive him off, though.”

Hit laughed louder at that. “shit! that’s some good stuff right there. wish i got to see his face when he first saw you,”

“she didn’t even have the chance to have a crush on him. guy wasn’t charming enough.”

“he sounds pathetic,”

“oh yeah,”

They sit there for a bit longer, snickering before going back to the quiet. Then, Skull stood up, giving Hit his hand.

“c’mon, let’s get back up there. y/n might think i killed you or something.”

Hit went to take his hand, but there’s an unsure expression on his face.

“but ain’t i going to make things worse up there? i mean… they’re all afraid of me,”

“mixed feelings, ure. but afraid? no. they’ve got me,” Skull pointed a thumb to himself. “after all it looked like y/n ‘s… doing better. we’re gonna talk to her. if she isn’t? we can just chuck trist out the window and you can take his spot,”

“is that the human? hm… murder… i might actually like that as a father-son bonding activity now,” Hit joked.

“hey, you didn’t hear any of that… y/n doesn’t like that stuff, and i need to keep convincing her i’m harmless,”

Hit crossed his arm.

“you? harmless?”

“i’m not, but she doesn’t need to know,”

Hit started laughing again.

“oh… what the hell. sure,”