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Grillby’s flames were a dazzling violet. Often, his bar would be bathing in his light, making the place feel almost surreal. Maybe that was why clients would often choose to stay there, a way to pretend for even just a moment that everything was fine. Nonetheless, while he did enjoy his own colours, there was a certain one that would always catch his eye-
“heya grillbz,” The purple elemental was startled out of his own thoughts, the glass in his hands clattering on the table. Not broken, thankfully.
In front of him sat a wobbling, flushed Sans, his furred hood covering the top half of his face, though his singular red eye-light was still visible.
Right. Grillby had one more customer left.
“...Sans…” he crackled as he cleared his throat. “...What can I get for you…?” The glass on the table was returned to Grillby’s hands.
“jus’ the usual, hot stuff,” The skeleton murmured, shutting his eyes (Grillby should really ask how the man does that) as he sat onto the barstool right in front of the flamed man. A ruby blush was on his face as he shut his eyes, muttering something under his breath while he rested his head on the table.
Grillby flushed slightly, his flames turning lilac at the pet name, and rolled his non-existent eyes as he reached under the counter for a bottle of mustard, reserved just for Sans. While the drunk skeleton drinks his beloved condiment, Grillby’s hand reaches for his phone and is on the Captain of the Royal Guard’s number, dialing.
“HELLO? AH, GRILLBY, IS IT MY BROTHER AGAIN? I AM BUSY RIGHT NOW, I’LL PAY OFF A HALF OF THAT IDIOTIC BONEHEAD’S TAB IF YOU LOOK AFTER HIM FOR THE NIGHT. …Refrain From Dusting Him, Would You?” The line goes silent.
Grillby sighs.
It was late at night, and his customers had all left for the day after watching a red-faced Sans stumble and yell curses at anyone he bumped into. The bartender walked around the bar top and reached the front door, turned the sign so that it shows ‘CLOSED’ rather than ‘OPEN’ and locked it.
He would have looked after his dear customer anyways.
“d’ya want me ta leave? i can make m’way back home, m’sure paps didn’t lock the door…” The lack of puns from the skeleton concerned the elemental, though he would never confess this out loud, even if he was threatened with a water gun.
“...No…You may stay the night…” Grillby sizzled as he went back to cleaning glasses (with water-proof gloves of course).
A comfortable silence fell over them, the only sound being the bartender’s flames sputtering and popping.
The flame elemental hesitated for a moment before turning around, pulling his black shades off to see his skeleton clearer. “...Sans- Oh…”
His skeleton was resting his head face down, light, muffled snoring coming from him.
Grillby placed the glass in his hands away, removed his gloves and gently took the bottle of mustard. A blanket was placed over Sans’ shoulders.
Yes, Grillby’s favourite colour was indeed red.