Chapter Text
Request by Dukeofnachos: If you would be so kind: I'd like to see short Sans where being short is a problem for him and he's dating a tall reader. Like if human adults mistake him for a kid or he's too short to ride a roller coaster. Or maybe he takes advantage of it and gets the reader to carry him or sleeps in one of those plastic cars attached to shopping carts when they go grocery shopping. Bonus points if he tries to wear one of the reader's shirts and it's gigantic on him.
"babe, d'you know where my shirt is? i gotta go to work."
You grumble, lifting your head up from your pillow to look at your skeletal boyfriend. He's frantically searching through the draws, chucking some clothes out and moving them to the side in his boxers. He pulls out a pair of shorts, putting them on quickly, then continuing to throw things about. You giggle at him.
"Sorry, I think their all in the washing machine." He groans.
"but i gotta go to work! will it be done in..." He pauses, looking at his phone quickly then to you. "5 minutes...?" You chuckle.
"No dear."
He groans again, louder this time as he walks over and slumps against his mattress. "what am i gonna do?" You think for a moment.
"You could always where one of my shirts?"
"no."
You snicker. "Why?"
"you know perfectly well 'why.'"
"Aw, cmon. At least try!" You're openly laughing now.
"no! y'know i'm too s-small!" Sans' face is a bright blue, throwing his arms about as he glares at you. He crosses his arms, pouting. "i ain't wearin' one of your shirts."
"At least try." You sit up, leaning over blindly to grab at one of the clean shirts he threw out of the draw. You throw it at him and it lands on his head, nearly knocking him over in the process. "I'm skinny anyway, it could fit!"
He grumbles as he puts it on reluctantly. His head pokes through the neckline easily, and as he pulls it down into a comfortable position, you can't help but crack up.
"stop laughin'!"
"But how can that not fit you! That's one of my smallest tops I have!" It doesn't fit him at all. It's baggy on his form, reaching down to his knees as he tries to make it appear normal. When you don't stop laughing at him when he yells again, he walks over, shoves you face first into the pillow and sits on top of your back. You're still giggling through all of it, though you make no action to move.
"ugh, this is fuckin' stupid..." He mumbles angrily.
"Just tuck it into your pants."
"oh yeah, let me make myself look like i have a giant boner while i'm at it."
"You didn't complain last time you did in public."
"shut up."
You chuckle again, shaking him on top of you as he tries to stuff the shirt into his pants. You spin onto your back, lifting him in the process so you don't crush him and placing him on your stomach. You help tucking the ends of the shirt into his shorts. Once done, you both let go as he looks at you questioningly.
"is this at all any better?"
"Yeah, it's a little bit, but it still looks ridiculous honestly."
"UGH CMON-!"
"WAIT!" He pauses his action to rip the shirt to pieces. "I think it will make do. Just leave it tucked in and you'll be fine."
"no, i won't! ugh, i blame you for this." He points a finger accusingly at you, you raise your arms up in defense.
"Hey, you never told me that you only had about 6 pairs of t-shirts on the floor." You check your phone. "You're late for work." He jumps, scrambles up, grabbing his blue hoodie and runs out with a "cya later sweetheart, bye.".
You giggle, texting one of his co-workers (which is actually the guy who hooked Sans up with this job) to record a video of him.
You're out shopping with Sans, and to say it was a nightmare is an understatement.
"Sans, please hurry up, the shop'll be closed soon and we won't be able to get anything!"
"can't babe, my feet are literally burning."
You groan, facepalming as you wait for Sans to slowly make his way to you. Sans had gotten tired easily once he got to the shop because of his short legs, being that your legs are a lot longer than Sans, so are your strides, which causes Sans to literally jog just to catch up to you. He had quickly given up, walking at his own snail's pace as you grumble, waiting for him.
"y'know, we could prolly go faster if you carried me-"
"Absolutely not. You have legs, use 'em!" You retorted. He feigns hurt.
"my girlfriend won't even help her man in need!" He dramatically leans backwards, hand on his head as he shouts a cry for "help".
You sigh. "I ain't carrying you."
"then why don't i sit in the carrier thingie?"
"...The baby chair?" He nods his head. You look at it, then back at him, his expectant gaze giving him this adorable look that you just can't say no to and he already knows that's your weakness... "Fine..." He makes a quiet "yessssss" noise, fist pumping the air whilst walking over to you. He lifts his arms up expectantly, and you pick him up and plop him in the cart's chair. He actually moans in pleasure.
"oh stars, thank you. that was hurting my feet so bad." He leans down and exaggeratedly rubs his feet, faking a pained face as he stares at you. You huff, continuing on with the shopping as you can't help but let slip a small smile.
"Oh hush, some people have to do more walking than you and are even shorter." You give him a studying look. "Though that's rare these days, considering how short you are..." He growls and tries to play hit you in the chest, but you move away before he can. "Nu-uh shorty, you don't wanna look like a baby do you?" He huffs, pouting and looking away as he crosses his arms.