#it was an argument... and reader here ain't gonna take it forever if he won't give anything

[nighttimelights-prompted]

UF!Sans x reader arguing because Red has feelings towards the reader, but refuses to act out on it because he's afraid that he'll ruin/taint them, therefore trying to distance himself from the reader (who he was once close with), although the reader doesn't know why Red's pushing them away, therefore starting an argument. (I'm really sorry if there's anything about this that doesn't make sense, I worded it oddly)

(not to worry, i think it made perfect sense! though i suppose we’ll see if i interpreted the way you meant it. i’ve also got a couple more prompts in my inbox now, so thank you so much for those sweet people who sent in something! still open and accepting prompts and imagines, so let me know if you’d like something, ya cuties.)

(… and i suppose i would be remiss if i didn’t give a head’s up: prepare for at least a few feelings ahead. though perhaps someone would like to send in a follow up prompt with a way to continue/wrap this~?)

The low revving of your motorcycle was a purr compared to the gutteral roar that Red’s always held, but you still felt the blow of its noise in its loss when you cut off the engine.

Even when you tugged off your helmet, shaking your hair free quickly as you scanned the line of the rooftop above, the silence suffocated you. It was wrong, and every fiber of your being felt it; even in the dead of night, if you were here, your motorcycle parked alongside Red’s as it was now, the hilltop should be ringing with his brash, low laughter, curving around your own until the tears pooled at the corners of your eyes.

Heat prickled wetness at the corners now, but you blinked them away harshly as you caught sight of the bulky silhouette on a distant corner of the rooftop. You slung your leg over and dismounted, leaving your helmet propped on your bike. No one would steal it - there wasn’t another soul around for miles.

It was the quick work of minutes to find your way to the roof access ladder, grappling the side of it for the first 10 feet where the rungs were blocked by a locked safety panel. Your leather gloves gripped the edge of the building as you hauled yourself over, boot meeting concrete edging with the same confidence and anger you hoped you could hold up until he could get an earful from you.

Or a skull-full, you guessed.

It was naturally the opposite side of the building he was standing at. The bastard would’ve heard you coming for a mile, could’ve left if he wanted, but damn if he wasn’t still going to be just that much farther. You vaulted over the varying heights of the roof, easily avoiding the enormous dome of glass that sat over the gazing room. You let your anger fuel you, trying to focus on those roiling feelings and not the way you could feel your phone burning awareness in your mind from deep in your pocket, smoking figuratively with the echoing shots of your cracking heart.

“OY, RED!”

That’s it, let the anger keep your voice steady-

“WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?”

You were almost on him now, the gentle light of the half-moon and stars silhouetting him and the roof in washed-out tones. The absurd fluff of his hood was spiked around his skull, his hands tucked into his pockets. The jacket actually looked… zipped up, for once. A small line of smoke drifted upwards from the line of fur.

“WHO- Wh-who do you think you are, sending me a goddamn text like that?” You reached his side at last, but quickly looked down to try and grasp at the anger draining out of you. “What kind of asshole leaves a text like that - ‘don’t bother textin me again, i’m done with this’? Out of fucking nowhere?” You resisted the urge to stomp your foot, but just barely. Instead you quickly grabbed at your phone, the leather of your gloves catching on your tight pocket for just a moment. You didn’t even bother unlocking it, but waved it towards him for extra effect. “You gonna give me some kinda explanation, or what?”

Sure, try and reason, that may hold back the prickling feeling in your chest. Your fingers gripped a little tighter at your phone as you waited for something from him.

You got a shrug.

“The fuck,” you said.

You got another shrug. The fluff seemed to stay a little higher this time at the end of the motion. Or was his head a little lower?

You bit down your inclination to swear again. “Red, c’mon man, give me something. If I did fuck up, fine, but I can’t figure it out or make it right on my own. Or is something going down? Why’re you pushing me away, after all the shit we’ve stuck through together?” Your voice cracked. Your mouth twisted in a grimace, but you didn’t try to restate it.

The twisting in your chest was only worsening with his silence.

It was a quick gambit you ran through some dark labyrinth in your mind in the next few moments. That stark first memory hit you - coming across him beat to hell and back in that alleyway almost a year ago, cornered by a handful of supremacist asswipes wielding knives and spiked bats, waving what you immediately recognized as a “Anti-Magic Security Affective Field of Energy” - AMSAFE, the shit had been named - and drawing closer, one of them raising their bat above their head. Red had wiped a line of glowing red liquid from his mouth and stood a little taller, and had grunted out a goddamned pun - “guess ‘m up to bat, huh?” - before you had slammed a stray pipe into the side of the bat wielder’s kneecaps. The chaos that had ensued ended with you slinging Red’s arm over your shoulders and hauling him to his favorite bar despite your judgement, the alley behind you echoing with “i’d offer to lend ya a hand, doll, but ya’ve got my whole arm already.” Fast forward to the next week, finding him in another alleyway, surrounded by a bigger group - then another week, again, before the next day you tracked him down through his flaming friend of a bartender and tried to get some answers. None of which you got, of course, but it ended in you getting his number, and vice versa - soon you were getting him human intel on the supremacists no monster could easily come across, which eventually spun into late nights spent trading jokes and stories, then meeting his terrifying and hilariously secret-sweet edgelord of a brother, then getting looped into movie nights with his handful of friends, and races under the rising moon through the hillside, and slow but growing insights into the hell they had all been through Underground as you leaned against his side, both your legs dangling off this very building, smoke drifting lazily between you-

“Give me… give me something, Red,” you said quietly, your voice strained.

He remained quiet and still for a few more moments, before shrugging again and twisting just a little further away from you.

“meant what i said, that’s fuckin’ all.”

You snapped.

In a blink, your hands were fisted in the fur of his coat. Your mind registered the plastic clatter of your phone striking the rooftop as you stepped to get in front of him.

“That’s fucking bullshit!”

Heat spiked at the corners of your eyes, but you ignored it.

He was taller than you by at least a few inches, something that normally made you feel a strange kind of safe and comforted, but right now it was just pissing you off as you tried to drag him down to no avail. “You’ve been acting weird for a few days now, and all I goddamn did earlier was send you a message asking if you wanted me to grab you a burger from Grillbz - and then, then you send me that-! After nothing, no signs! Hell, we just hung out this past goddamn weekend-!” Your face was already red, but you weren’t sure if you would’ve flushed further or drawn up tears faster if you lingered on the memory, on the way you had woken up on his couch, your head resting in his lap with one of his hands tangled gently in your hair, having slumped over at some point while watching Edge’s robot friend on TV. You refused to linger there though - no, your words were furious, but you were worried, the moment striking harsh and cold in contrast to your burning eyes, your reddened skin.

Not that you didn’t want to shake sense into him regardless of your concern, but if he would just explain, maybe you could knock that bit of sense into him and then end up laughing this off-

“finally got some time to think, that’s all. really was a bonehead to not acknowledge it sooner. we’re just different, too different.” His words were gravelly and plain. A clove cigarette, the same kind he had switched to some six months ago, hung from his teeth. The smell was almost nostalgic; coupled with the setting and the way his hood caught the distant light of the night sky, it dropped stones into your gut as you better caught his expression.

The twist to his mouth wasn’t the usual cocky smirk you had come to love more than you’d ever admitted. No, there was a wry sneer pulling his mouth to the side, just barely there.

It stabbed through you harder than his words.

“we had some alright times, i guess. but i’m done with it. done with ya gettin’ into tr- into knowing monsters an’ shit, shit that ain’t ever gonna work out. ain’t worth losin’ my head over.”

You finally registered the dead, dull light to his normally shining eyelights. Rather than a bright crimson, they were dimmed to a cruel crimson. Your grip slackened, but you refused to let go yet.

“Red, you’re - you’re full of shit. More than usual. Seriously, what the fuck is going on?” You tilted your head just slightly, your fists managing to grip a little again. Your brows had drawn down, and you swallowed to push away the rawness building in you.

One of his hands, broad and boney, swept upwards and brushed one of your arms away with frustrating ease. “i don’t wanna keep repeatin’ myself, here.” He closed his eyes and turned from you, wresting your other hand free as he pocketed his once more.

“I can protect myself, if that’s what you’re worried about,” you said, your voice scratching as the anger bubbled desperately in you.

He made a strange sound - you couldn’t quite see his face, and you couldn’t find the way to move your feet to get in front of him again. “yeah, sure. ya sure proved it.”

“... I know you’re better than this.”

The sound this time was a scoff, clear but for the muffle of his hood. “like i said, too different. ya won’t - wouldn’t understand.”

Your hands balled into fists at your side. Your cheeks chilled with a breeze that passed by, the line of tears running down them drying cold and tight.

“Yeah, I won’t lie. I don’t understand this, Red. I thought I got you, and I thought you got me… and y’know?” You laughed, once, short, choked. “I still think I do. So yeah, alright.”

You turned on your heel, the moonlight a gentle glow on one half of your face.

“We’re done, then, I guess.”

You didn’t wait for another response as you strode back across the rooftop.

Your motorcycle was alone in the parking lot by the time you reached it.

(... well, i warned you.)

(... anybody want me to continue this one? i might do a part two, leave me an ask if you’ve got something in mind or just a desire to find out what happens