"Sursly, Grillbz.. Is it me, or is it hot in here?" Sans asked, his voice slurred and drunk. His eye sockets were half lidded and his wide grin was accompanied by a drunken blush.

"Jeez, Sans. You really are drunk, arent'cha?" Grillby chuckled from where he stood on the other side of the bar, polishing mugs.

Sans nodded stupidly, teetering on his stool as he held onto the counter with an outstretched arm, his hand wrapped around the other edge. Grillby eyed it warily, but continued his job, smiling faintly.

Sans had a ketchup bottle in his other hand, from which he took another gracious fraught from, tilting backwards precariously as he did.

When he faced the bartender again he had a red streak running down his chin where he had partially missed his mouth.

"Aww, it looks like.. I gotta KETCHUP on my.. drinking skillz.. GRILLZ!" He burst out laughing, dropping the now empty bottle onto the counter and flopping his head onto his arm. Muffled now, he continued laughing, his shoulders shaking with the effort. He relaxed a little and looked up at Grillby with tired eyes, the lids slowly closing.

Grillby smiled, peering around the restaurant momentarily to see that it was empty, and leaned down close to Sans, using his towel to carefully wipe the smeared tomato paste from Sans' mouth.

Sans' eyes widened a little under his friend's touch, looking up again slowly at the smiling Grillby. He didn't move, but instead blushed deeply.

"Wow, it might be the ketchup talking.. but I-I never realized how h-hot you are.. pun slightly intended." Sans' face was even more blue by now, and Grillby was taken aback, straightening a little too quickly and turning away. Sans saw red flickering up from the collar of his vest, signifying that the man was blushing.

"Haha, good one, Sans." Grillby spoke curtly, his body tensing. Why was he so affected by that? Sans was drunk, he probably didn't even know where he was. But still, it had hit something inside of Grillby, and it wouldn't leave him alone.

Sans straightened a little, still woozy, but a little more focused on the change in the air. He watched Grillby's back, blinking at him and thinking about what he had just said. How did Grillby feel about it? How did HE feel about it?

"Things are really-heating up in here, huh?" Sans asked, smiling sloppily as the affects of his ketchup ran into him again. He put a hand on his skull and tried to hold himself upwards, though he was slumping to the side again.

Grillby didn't speak, but glanced over his shoulder at the sound of the chair squealing as it moved. He sighed and was about to say something when a loud thud cut him off. He whipped around to see that the spot where Sans had been sitting was now empty, leaning onto the polished counter top to peer down at the floor.

He sighed as he fixed his glasses, looking down at the lump of blue below him, and put the mug in his hand down next to the towel, coming around and squatting next to the fallen skeleton. Loud snores reached him from within the jacket and he shook his head slowly, the flames moving around lazily.

Standing, he walked over to one of the large windows at the front of the bar, scowling at the snow that raged outside in the dark, some of them softly illuminated by the artificial lights inside. Glancing at his watch, he frowned at the time, understanding that it would be much too late to try at coax his friend to get home, especially in his state.

He returned to Sans, his hand coming to his chin as he thought of his next plan of action. He knelt down again and poked Sans in the rib cage, feeling the hard bones beneath his fiery hand. Sans grumbled something along the lines of "unicorns and tomatoes", and rolled over a little, so that he was on his side.

Grillby's soul shook as he looked at Sans' face, now turned towards him, and slacked as he slept. There was still the hint of blue from his blush, and Grillby couldn't help but think that he looked.. peaceful. His hand slowly extended forward and grazed ever so gently across the drunk's cheek, before pulling back in surprise.

What had made him do that? He couldn't have relations with his customer. That would be bad for his business, and hard to explain. But still..

He reached over and carefully scooped the skeleton into his arms, cradling him close against his chest, and smiling as Sans cuddled into his hold. He stood up easily, carefully walking around the island and pushing the work room door open with his back, letting it swing closed as he went past the kitchen and into a supply room, where a cot and other bedroom like things were set up.

Slowly, Grillby lay his cargo onto the cot, taking a moment to pull the sheet across his body and make sure he was comfortable. When he was finished, he sat for a moment at the edge of the bed, looking down again at Sans.

Silently, he leaned over and paused reluctantly by his head, before smiling and leaving a small kiss on Sans' forehead. He began to move away when a tug on his vest stopped him. His face went red under his glasses and he turned slowly, spotting a white hand holding onto the black felt. His eyes shot to Sans face to see his own eyes still closed, but a grimace on his features.

"Stay.. It's cold outside.." Sans mumbled, his head turning a little to face Grillby. His eyes opened slowly.

"Please." Grillby averted his eyes momentarily, glancing at the entrance to the room and at the kitchen and bar outside of it. Then, with a soft sigh, he nodded and layed down next to Sans, who grinned and scooted over sloppily to allow the bartender room.

When Grillby had gotten comfortable, he put his hands behind his head, laying completely still. He jolted as Sans snuggled up to him, resting against his wide chest, and breathing contently. Grillby froze, then smiled, closing his eyes as he brought his arms around Sans, wrapping around him and keeping him warm.

"It is cold outside." He whispered, before he fell into a sweet slumber against Sans.