A/N: This is nothing serious - just a fic about Sans making puns, and a human who puts up with them.

Spoilers for True Pacifist Run.

You take a quick glance at your watch, and you check the time. It's still early in the morning, but it's not approaching the afternoon just yet. You'll have just enough time to swoop in, and out with your coffee before you need to head to work for the day. Exciting, right? Not really. Work was alright, but someone had to help pay the bills and your roommate wouldn't be keen on saving your arse from getting chewed out by the landlord. There was also other expenses as a part of adult responsibility, but enough of that.

Your favorite coffee shop has been run by humans ever since you found the need to dump caffeine into your system. The employees weren't too friendly, but they wear a fake smile with a not-so subtle look that says, "I hate my life". Nonetheless, you order your usual, and pay before you leave like any other day. Why bring up that statement about humans? It was because there was a freaking skeleton behind the counter of said coffee shop.

The moment you waltz into the coffee shop, you spot someone who probably lost their skin, but then it occurs to you that monsters now roam the Earth. You can't help, but be a little leery of the other race. After all, your history books claim they were once enemies in the Great War before they were sealed away for God knows how long. They pour out of nowhere, and here you are: gawking at the sight of an animated skeleton behind the counter. It isn't one of those snapchats where Tumblr is keen on posting the skeleton war meme, but you're sure this skeleton actually has a mind of its own (does it even have a brain?). It seems to notice your presence after all, and oh great - it has one of those grins for the customers.

You stare for a minute longer as the passive jazz music plays in the background. Are you now just noticing it, or...? Yes, yes. You'll focus elsewhere now as you eye the rest of the place where only a handful are sitting at some chairs; reading a book, sipping their drink, or doing whatever.

"Are you going to stand there and stare, or are you going to order something?" The white speck in the middle of his eye sockets really seem to focus on you, but surprisingly, a deep voice escapes him in spite of his lack of...mouth movement. Creepy. You spin around to see if there are any other customers in line, but it appears you're the only one. You spin back around to face him, but even when his face doesn't hold as much expressions as someone with skin, he seems amused by your actions.

"Y-yeah, I'm going to order now since, y'know, staring is bad and all." you say as you approach the counter in a slow fashion. He only grows more amused as you huff before you finally rest your hands on the counter. You can get a clearer picture of the skeleton now: somewhat on the stout side, but he has a blue jacket on without the coffee shop uniform on. The hat with the logo on it sits upon his cranium though. "Letsee here..." Wait, you already knew what you wanted, but your mind was elsewhere . The final word was droned out briefly before it faded into silence between you two. There was only the relaxing jazz music in the background.

"Well, you want anything. I can provide two things for ya." his grin is wider now, and you pale as you wonder what this monster is going to do to you. "Do you like coffee, and puns? Because I have a latte." A wink follows from the skeleton barista, but you don't even notice how he may have any eyelids.

You are pretty sure the first thing that emits from your moving mouth is a loud groan. Some of the other customers look your way before they return to their usual thing in a coffee shop. "I honestly just want..." you tell him your order as your palm rests against your forehead.

"Coming right up." he says with his grin unrelenting. He gets you what you've ordered, and you pay him at the cash register. Before you leave, though, he shouts: "Come back when you moch-an." You groan again.

You don't know how much you'll be able to handle this barista's puns if he actually works here.

.

The next day, he's there again; grinning as always. He's wearing the same outfit from yesterday, but it smells like coffee grounds. The hat has gone missing though, and it's replaced with his bald head. Can skeletons even grow hair? You'd rather not find out. He catches sight of you as the door opens, and a bell rings to indicate your arrival. You decide it's best to act casual about it, but you really want to punch a wall if he says another coffee pun.

"The usual?" he asks you in his own casual tone. You only seen him once, but you decide not to dwell too much on it. You nod at him, and he goes to make what you had ordered yesterday. Surprisingly, it's not too bad for someone going off of memory.

"What? No other customers other than me?" you tease. Sipping your drink adds a spark of energy, but you're still able to see with clarity what happens next. Or so you think.

"Nah, I work short shifts. Like, I work for about an hour before I head to my next job." Again, he's casual about it. You spit out your drink in response, and he looks curiously at you. "Did I mess up your order?"

"No, I'm just...what? You have multiple jobs!?" You're staring at the guy in disbelief. How can anyone work so many jobs, yet be so nonchalant about it. Wait... he only works for an hour before heading to his next job? Surely he's pulling your leg. You cannot tell if he's serious, or not about it.

"I'm bean serious," he says; as if he's reading your mind. "if only you brew how tough it can be to pay the bills." he adds with another one of his unnatural winks before he leaves from behind the counter to head outside. He opens the door with his bony hands, and then he turns left before leaving your sight completely.

You're both confused by his behavior just now, but you're also fuming at his words and the puns. One job can definitely pay the bills, but then again you have a roommate. Still! He has seemed alright at first, but now you really don't know what to make out him.

.

After dealing with him a few more mornings after that, you realize that you've never really gotten his name. All you've really called him was a skeleton bastard, but never really to his face. For all you've know, he can figure that sort of thoughts out from your mind pretty quickly. The theory begins to make sense when you walk up to the counter that morning, and he looks at you knowingly.

"I'm Sans," he supplies all of the sudden. No questions, no asking if it's the usual (which he has gotten a lot better at now), or puns. "I never got your name either, regular." He puts the emphasis on the last word.

You tell him your name, and the day seems to go on as usual. He does make a killer drink now, and you pay him the usual. Your money is still out on the counter, and you see the tip jar. You decide to put some inside, but the deed does not go unnoticed by the skeleton. He seems pleased by it, but he does not comment on it. Whether or not he knows better, or you've somehow sent him a steely stare not to mention it, you never really learn why.

"Thanks." he does say, with the closest he has to eyes, upon the tip jar before looking at you. "Say, we're buddies now."

You blink at his words, and how matter-of-fact and sudden he is about it. Are you two buddies now? You're not best friends, that's for sure, but you have learn to like him a little more each day. A sarcastic remark is not made on your end, nor his, but you just resort to staring at him before a smile appears upon your lips. "Yeah, sure."

"You'll learn that us monsters aren't so bad. We blend in pretty easily nowadays." he says with a wink, and shortly after follows your groan. He pauses briefly before continuing. "Here's my cell phone number so us buddies can talk, and text."

You both exchanges numbers between you two. He looks at his non-existent watch before claiming that his ridiculous shift is over before leaving, but he says he'll text you later after his other jobs. You just wave with one hand as you hold your drink with another. The door closes, and the bell goes off, you almost decide that you want to see if someone else comes to take his place. A second later, your decision is made, and you depart from the coffee shop soon. You look at his contact in your phone, and you sigh with a grin on your face. Maybe you two may find common grounds after all. The grin fades as you realized you made a pun. Dammit, Sans.

.

Later in the night, you receive a text from Sans: wanna hang out tomorrow? you can meet my brother too, but he's a bit of a bonehead. at least you'll get to hear a latte of my humerus jokes!

"Oh my God."