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stripestheboar · 7 years

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Day 15 - Grillster (Underfell)

Yaaaaay! Free ship day! Grillster, I choose you!

Pairing: Grillster (Grillby/Gaster)

Word Count: 2,007

“Aw, c’mon, Gri- hic! -llby! Just another round,” the drunk slurred, grinning in a half-pleading fashion as he nursed his already warm drink. He had been persisting at this for a good five minutes, and wasn’t about to lose when he still had G to spend. The bartender, however, was done. “I don’t want to hear it,” Grillby huffed, persisting on shooing the drunken monster away from his seat. The tipsy monster slurred something unintelligible before slipping and crashing out of his seat with a groan. The chair broke due to the force of the fall, breaking one of the small beams connecting the legs and causing a leg to crack into two. The flame felt his anger rise as he began to turn a deep shade of red, ready to finish the monster on the spot, but calmed himself just in time. Instead, he growled in frustration and bent down, grabbing the monster’s wallet. “For damages,” he grumbled, taking out the stash of G and tossing the emptied case back to the drunk still struggling to get up. He seemed sober enough to understand what had just happened, though, as his complaints were immediate. “H-hey! Gimme my m-moneeey back!” he slurred, wobbling on his two feet. “Oh please. You were going to waste it on booze, anyway. Probably going to get yourself killed as well,” Grillby sighed, storing the G away. “Besides, you’ve stayed way past your welcome and you broke my stool. I’d say you deserve it.” The bumbling fool stumbled toward him angrily. “You can’t do that!” he growled, looking as though he was preparing for an attack. However, he was caught off guard by Grillby grabbing him by the neck. “Listen, It’s five in the fucking morning,” he warned, his voice low. “I am done with all of you. Now get out!” And with that, he threw the monster out the front door, giving a huff as he went back inside, taking a moment to survey his establishment. It wasn’t as messy as some would think, but there would definitely be clean up involved. Might as well start now.

As Grillby was finishing picking up the place a good fifteen minutes later, he heard the doors open. A faint smile appeared in his flame as his hearing recognized the slow, stiff, almost calculated steps of his favorite patron.

“I don’t suppose you have a bit of time for one more drink, hmm? Perhaps two?” Gaster hummed, already taking a seat on one of the intact stools. The flame forgot about the broom he had been handling, dropping it off to the side to pay attention to something a tad more interesting. “Oh, only if you have the G,” he chuckled, moving to his place behind the counter, folding his arms on the counter. Tired red eyelights flicked up the the bartender, his left phalanges drumming rhythmically along the surface of the counter while his other hand fiddled with his dirtied coat, stained with a faint red here and there. “G? Well, I’m afraid I must have left my money at home,” he sighed, feigning sorrow. “Perhaps a trade would suffice?” With a small grin, the skeleton quickly pulled a glass bottle of liquor, the bottle itself rather thick and intricate in design. It must be something good. Grillby took it up, unable to help the smile that tore though his usually smooth surface. “Well, as much as I appreciate it, I am a bartender,” he chuckled, glancing away from the bottle. “Then let’s call it a… small gift, then,” Gaster compromised, waving a dismissive hand. “Besides, it’s one hundred ninety proof.” That seemed to catch the other’s interest. A higher proof alcohol was a treat for most heat-based monsters, as the drink contained more alcohol than it did any other substance they threw in. It was like drinking rubbing alcohol. “Really? Now how on earth did you get you slimy, bony fingers on something like this?” he asked, tempted to pop the bottle open for a sip right there, but decided to save it for a more special time, when he was feeling in the mood for a treat.

“The trash heaps of Waterfall,” Gaster answered, folding his hands as he gave a small yawn to show his readiness to sleep on the spot. “Since you can’t exactly look yourself, I have to look for the both of us.” Grillby put the bottle in his inventory, the torn smile forming a smirk as he turned to pour the skeleton the usual: a small, square glass of Scotch, no ice. “Oh? Is the genius and evil Gaster becoming soft? Giving presents and such?” he teased, causing the skeleton to just roll his eyelights as he took his drink and had a few sips. “Nevermind you. So, how’s the bar?” he asked.

“Fine enough,” he replied. “How’s the lab? I see you’ve worked another tireless night.”

“Disastrous, but still successful all the same. How is the girl?”

“A brat as always. How are the boys?”

“Sans is being difficult with the tests, but otherwise fine. What’s with the broken stool.��

“A drunk. Nothing special. What’s with the red stains?”

“I’ve been experimenting with a new chemical. So a dull day for you?”

“Mostly,” he sighed. “But you know how I enjoy the business. Sure, there are a few annoying ones, but that’s natural. Besides, the day always tends to get better once you come along.” Gaster blinked and looked away for a moment as a smile grew, his skull flushing a tint of red. Once he had looked back at Grillby, he was slightly surprised to see him leaning in close, a devious smirk crossed over that face, with a wanting look in the eyes that topped over the glasses he wore. “I’m about to close up,” the flame informed. “Finish up and give me what I want, Gaster. Before we head out.” Gaster gave him a sly look, but was quick to comply, gulping down the rest of his drink before leaning in to meet him for a kiss. It lasted only a second, but the drug-like affect it seemed to have in the skeleton seemed to be proof of its work. Grillby seemed satisfied and began to close down the bar. Gaster followed suit, leaving his stool, straightening his coat, and waiting by the door for the other to be done.

Soon enough, the bar was closed. It was almost six at this point, and Grillby was looking forward to a nice date with his bed after sending his girl to school. Gaster exited the establishment, with the purple fire monster in tow. However, just as Grillby had turned the last lock to the building, he blacked out for a moment.

The next thing he knew, all he could feel was pain. For once, he felt cold. Nothing but cold. He was lying in the snow, vision blurry, but he could still feel his own body diminishing with every second passing by. He could hear a muffled should of surprise, barely able to concentrate on anything anymore as he felt as if he was about to fall.

Gaster barely had time to process anything. One moment, he’s watching Grillby close up the bar, and the next, a monster appears from behind the corner and throws a bucket of water on them. Not even half a second later, he heard and unnatural, gurgled screech as his friend fell to the snow, the bright light that had once illuminated be dark space now fading, and fast.

From pure instinct, Gaster grabbed the soul of the perpetrator. He recognized the fiend as some drunken monster, a frequenter of the bar. That didn’t matter. His sockets flashed a deadly red, something large already forming behind him, and before the monster could even get a word or beg out, he was immediately incinerated by a summoned Gaster Blaster. Dust fell to the ground scattering in the snow.

Now onto more important matters.

Grillby was dying. His flames were barely even half his original size now, growing smaller and smaller as his body shut down from not being able to sustain itself the only real solid part was the purple soul, which was quickly beginning to fade into white from the cold snow. Gaster cursed loudly, scooped up the soul to try and keep it warm, and quickly wretched a piece of wood from the window frame, as anything on the ground would bee too wet. He hurriedly wiped it of snow and steadily placed it near the rapidly depleting flames of the discoloring soul.

“Fucking hell, Grillby,” he whispered when the flames wouldn’t take to the wood at first. “You better not die on me. Please don’t die on me.” The flames still didn’t take. “I need you,” he whispered. “Your kids needs you. Don’t you did on me. Not now.”

Slowly, the tip of the wood began to blacken, a good sign. Eventually, the wood began to burn, and a small purple flame appeared on the end. Gaster gave a gasp of relief, quickly unlocking the door to the bar and shutting it with a slam; locking it. He moved at a brisk walk, shielding the small flame and soul with his hand so the wind wouldn’t blow them out. “Don’t worry, Grillby,” he whispered, moving to the broken stool and grabbing the shattered leg. “I won’t let you die. I’ve got you.” He grabbed the bottle of high proof alcohol he had gotten him, popping out the cork and dribbling it along the plank of wood, causing the fire to grow in size considerably. The soul was quickly placed in the fire to warm it. He added the leg to that fire, watching it slowly burn.

“I bet you really regret moving to Snowdin now, don’t you?” he grunted to the steadily growing fire. The soul was still a very faded purple, almost a soft lilac. Gaster’s soul gripped at the thought of Grillby having already fallen; he couldn’t lose him. Not now and not ever.

He got up to get more wood, and once he came back, he was shocked to see the soul even more discolored than before, a sign of a dying monster. He sat close to the fire, trying to stoke it as much as possible with wood and fire, but he soul wasn’t getting any better. Gaster wasn’t ready to give up, though.

“Y-you’re going to be fine,” he said to the flames, his voice shaking slightly. “I won’t let you die.” To his surprise, the flames rose a bit more. Gaster smiled. “I won’t let you die, Grillby. I need you,” he continued. “Me. Your daughter. We both need you.” Without much thought, he stuck his boned hands into the flames, gently wrapping around the dying soul with a gentleness he hadn’t shown in decades. “You’re safe with me. You’re going to live, or else I wouldn’t be able to live without you. You’re not dying on me. Not today.” Words like these were repeated, not minding the burning of his bones. To his glee, when he took another peek at the soul, some of the color was restored. This seemed to be doing the trick. He continued his words of assurance and devotion, feeling that once empty soul of his pulse once, almost in sync with the soul in his hands. “You’re not going to die,” he continued to whispered. “Not now. Not ever. I won’t let you.” He closed his sockets, a smile creeping up on his skull. “I need you just as much as you need me right now.”

These words were repeated over and over, echoing out into the flickering darkness, illuminated only by the steady flames that Gaster was now hunched over. He gently placed soul back, not stopping his whispering as he saw the shades of the once dying soul brighten even more. And so he watched the flames, forgetting about duties and work and sleep. Right now, it was just him and the fire.

#Underfell #Grillster #uf!Grillby #uf!Gaster #Gaster/Grillby #utshippingpridemonth #shipping pride month #love #Day 15 #Coonfics

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