Hi dear~ so if it’s okey can I ask for a little honeyketchup in the prompt 26 or kingdings if that pair it’s not okey to you please? >w<

I went with honeyketchup for this because oh my, the prompt suited them so well! Also, tumblr stuffed up the formatting a bit, since it doesn’t let you align text to the right :///. I had to improvise by just holding down spacebar a bunch for the text conversations. I hope it doesn’t screw up the entire format of this – I apologise for sections where the text doesn’t properly align D:

Anyway, thank you for the request! I hope you enjoy this! It’s one of those long ones again, I hope that’s alright!

Warning: Bad puns. A lot of them.


Sans’ phone buzzed again, and he
rolled over in bed, glancing at the new message.

Hey sweetheart, my place in five? I’d love to
bone 😉

Sighing, he deleted the match. He
had to admit, it may have been a mistake including the fact that he was a
skeleton monster in his online profile. Even he tended to get tired of the
boning jokes after a while.

Since he and his brother had
moved to London, Papyrus had been trying to convince him to meet more people.
He’d recommended the app to Sans, telling him that it was a great way to make
new friends. Sans had a strong feeling that Papyrus didn’t quite understand the
true nature of ‘online dating’ (although a small part of him feared that he
did).

Regardless, Sans had quickly
found himself intrigued by the concept, delving into the world of quick ‘matches’
and short ‘dates’—more as a way to distract himself than anything. Given his
inconsistent sleeping schedule, Sans often found himself awake into the early
hours of the morning, chatting to strangers or simply flicking through their
profiles. Most of them were human, but Sans had come across the occasional
monster. In truth though, no one had ever really sparked his interest, unless
it was for some late night dirty talk or a quick way to get off.

Growing bored, Sans placed his
phone on the nightstand, deciding that this probably wasn’t the best way to fix
his bad sleeping habits. He closed his eyes, trying to find some semblance of
sleep. Just as he’d begun to drift off however, his phone buzzed again.
Groaning slightly, Sans turned over, glancing at the screen.

You have: 1 new match!

He considered for a moment. More
likely than not, it was another ‘comedian’ lining up with one of their boner jokes. Still, Sans wasn’t exactly
eager to sleep. He wasn’t sure if it was the new country, or simply a shift in
whatever strange part of his magical makeup had programmed him for nightmares,
but he was woken up by night terrors more often than not these days.

Unlocking his phone, Sans glanced
over the profile of his new match, ‘Stretch’. The profile picture was nothing
more than an image of a skull and crossbones, with the description ‘come
plunder me booty’ beneath it. Despite himself, Sans released a small chuckle at
that. It was different, at least.

Figuring that it was worth a
shot, Sans typed out a quick message, with a picture attachment of the Titanic.

ice to meet you. name’s sans.

He waited for a moment, and when
there was no response, he typed out the second part of his message.

heh sorry. was that a bad icebreaker?

Sans had to admit, as often as he
used it, it was still a classic. If ‘Stretch’ didn’t respond though, Sans could
hardly blame him. A minute passed. Then two. Eventually, Sans figured he wasn’t
going to receive a reply, and locked his phone again, crawling back under his
covers.

But the silence was instantly interrupted
by a sudden buzz, and Sans glanced up, his notifications displaying a new
message from Stretch.

                                                                           stretch. and ice seen better.

Sans grinned, appreciative of the
response, despite the subtle jab at his own pun-making abilities. His phone
buzzed again, and another message popped up.

                 but honestly, there’s snow better way i
could’ve said it myself.

Sans’ grin widened, and for once,
he actually felt a little intrigued. It wasn’t often that people went along
with his jokes—and they almost never supplied their own puns in return. Leaning
back slightly, and shifting into a more comfortable position, he typed out a
response.

gotta admit, it’s not often that people humour me.

Sans waited, eagerly watching the
screen as the typing bubble popped up.

            well, i myself am just a skull and
crossbones, but you seem pretty                humerus.

“heh.” Sans snickered, grateful
that for once, the skeleton related joke involved something other than boning.
Curiosity prickled in the back of his mind. Stretch’s profile said that he was
less than five miles away. While Sans seldom met up with people from the app,
he couldn’t deny, he was a little intrigued by this guy. Deciding that perhaps
he should gather a little more information before making any snap decisions, he
typed out another message.

so why you up so late?

                                                                                             bad sleeper. you?

Sans paused for a moment,
considering. While he was tempted to state that he wasn’t exactly the heaviest
sleeper himself, he knew the generic ‘same’ response was always a conversation
killer. So instead, he typed out a different reply, grinning.

looking for buried treasure.

Sans couldn’t help but laugh
quietly to himself at his own joke. He had to admit, the idea had been tickling
the back of his mind since seeing Stretch’s profile description, he’d just been
waiting for the opportunity to use it.

The minutes ticked by, and
Stretch didn’t supply a response. Sans’ self-congratulatory chuckles soon
faded, and he suddenly began to panic, wondering if he’d overstepped. After a
good ten minutes, just when he’d begun to fear that Stretch had abandoned the
conversation altogether, a reply came through.

                                                              well, i do live kinda near king’s cross.

Sans frowned for a moment, his
mind puzzling over the response, trying to wrap his head around the meaning
behind Stretch’s words. His phone buzzed again, and a second message popped up.

                     or you know, you could just come over and
find x for yourself.

It suddenly clicked, and Sans
found himself struggling to keep his grin suppressed.

x marks the spot hehe. took me a while.

Excitement bubbled in his chest.
Their conversation hadn’t been long, but Sans had to admit, it was the first
time he’d spoken to someone interesting in a long time. His soul jumped
slightly with anticipation when Stretch responded again.

                                                                    it was a bit of a stretch, i’ll admit.

Sans was never one to be outdone
when it came to puns, but right now, his mind was almost a little too ecstatic
to think of anything witty to respond with. He glanced back over their previous
messages, still grinning to himself in a way that was actually genuine for
once. Suddenly, something occurred to him, and he frowned slightly, quickly
typing out a message.

wait.

Sans paused, reading back over
Stretch’s messages to make sure he’d understood correctly.

were you asking me to come over?

Normally, Sans could immediately
tell when someone was coming onto him. The hints were never subtle, and he
usually tried to avoid meeting anyone in person, unless he was feeling
particularly restless and needed a quick way to relieve some stress. But he’d
almost missed Stretch’s small hint the first time. come over and find x for yourself. Sans wasn’t sure if it had been
too subtle, or if he’d simply been too wrapped up in the tirade of puns to
notice. His soul raced in his chest as he impatiently awaited Stretch’s reply.

                                                                                                            depends.

There was a pause. Stretch’s
typing bubble popped up then disappeared a few times, as if he was contemplating
whether or not to send his next message.

                                                                     would you come if i told you to?

Sans felt a sudden heat rippling
through his bones, and his soul flipped in his chest. He had to swallow heavily
to rid his mouth of the magic that had begun to coalesce there. That hadn’t
been subtle at all. Stretch was definitely flirting with him now. Excitement
flooded him, and Sans could no longer keep the grin off his face.

He must have taken too long to
respond, because a (seemingly rather frantic) message came through.

                                                                                   heh. shit, sorry. too far?

Without thinking, Sans typed out
a hurried reply.

nah, king’s cross isn’t too far from me.

Stretch’s reply was almost
instantaneous, and Sans could almost sense his relief through the phone,
despite the fact that it was only an emoji.

                                                                                                                   😀

Sans hesitated for a moment,
considering the situation. Was he really going to do this? A quick glance at
the clock told him that it was almost midnight. Papyrus had long gone to bed,
although in truth, Sans doubted he was really asleep. It was unlikely he’d be
bothered if Sans left this late anyway—if anything, he’d probably be pleased
Sans was meeting up with a… friend. Not to mention, the odds of Sans falling
asleep now were rather minimal.

Mind made up, he shot a quick
message to Stretch.

what’s ur address? i’ll be there in 5.

****

Sans’ soul thumped erratically as
he knocked on the door to the apartment. He prayed to the stars that Stretch
hadn’t sent him a fake address. Although part of him almost hoped he had. He
was already having doubts. What if Stretch didn’t actually want to see him?
What if they didn’t really click as much in person? What if this was some kind
of set up? An elaborate prank of which Sans was the punchline.

He wasn’t given a chance to
linger on these thoughts, as a moment later, the door swung open, revealing a
tall, slouching skeleton monster, his hands in the pockets of his faded orange
hoodie. Sans found himself gaping for a moment, and upon seeing Stretch’s grin,
he quickly snapped his mouth shut.

“uh, stretch?” was all Sans
seemed able to enunciate.

Stretch smirked, his golden
eye-lights glinting slightly. “in the flesh.”

Sans chuckled, running a hand
over the back of his skull. He suddenly felt extremely awkward, and magic rose
to his cheekbones. “geez, sorry, i um… i just… wow. you’re a lot more
attractive in person.”

Stretch raised a brow bone, regarding
Sans quizzically, though there was still the faint hint of humour in his eyes.
“i can’t tell if you’re complimenting me or insulting my profile picture.”

Sans felt his eyes going wide,
his blush deepening. “oh—no! no, i wasn’t. heh, honestly the skull and
crossbones kinda drew me in. i didn’t mean it like that, i only…” Sans trailed
off as Stretch started laughing, the sound light and clear—almost sweet.

“i’m pulling your tibia, dude.
i—i’m flattered, really, uh… thanks.” Sans’ soul clenched slightly at the sight
of a faint golden blush rising to Stretch’s own cheekbones, his eyes darting
away from Sans. They were both silent for a moment, Sans’ hands shoved deep in
his pockets as he regarded Stretch, and for once, his grin didn’t feel so
forced. “so, um… you wanna head inside and skip straight to the, uh, heh—booty plundering?” Stretch asked, his blush intensifying. “or… do you maybe want to grab a drink or something and… flesh this out a bit
more?”

Stretch was looking nervous,
which Sans was almost appreciative of. If anything, it made him feel a little
more relaxed, knowing that he wasn’t the only one anxious to pursue this.
“well, uh, i’ve never been a particularly fleshy monster…” Sans began, earning
a grin from Stretch. “but, uh…”

Sans regarded the other monster
for a moment. He couldn’t deny, his entire body was already buzzing with eager
magic. He wasn’t sure if it was the puns, or simply the astounding fact that
Stretch was also a skeleton monster—and a fair looking one at that—but he
already found himself slightly drawn to him. And it felt a little too strong
just to be sexual attraction. Taking a long breath, he said, “you know what?
let’s, uh… let’s hang out.”

Stretch looked surprised,
although if the smile that spread across his face was any indication, he wasn’t
disappointed. “really?”

Sans grinned, nodding. “yeah, you
know what they say. you gotta dig a little deeper before you find the real
treasure.”

congrats on 100 followers! (im honestly surprised you didnt reach 100 sooner with as much as i love your writing, but i digress). if the drabbles are still open then maybe “You were my first.” with honeyblossom? (us paps/ut paps). the only special request i have is ***angst***

I’m sorry, angst? I didn’t quite understand the request so I wrote some fluff! I’m not too sure what angst is, sorry Ollie!

I’m pretty sure this is the longest one! It went through some pretty vigorous rewrites, but I think I got there in the end. I sort of HC classic Papyrus as asexual – I’m not too sure how well I got that across in this though. Anyway, I hope you enjoy your angst–uh, fluff, Ollie! This pair is really cute (definitely not sad at all).


Papyrus scanned over the diagrams
before him, trying to find the baffling solution he couldn’t quite seem to
reach. He’d been working on this puzzle for around a week now, and the longer
he stared at it, the less sense it seemed to make. It was beginning to frustrate
him a little.

“hey paps, what’s the matter?
you’re looking a little puzzled.”

Papyrus didn’t have the energy to
chastise his brother for the pun. Instead, he sighed, folding the
scribble-covered piece of paper. “It’s no use, Sans, I cannot find the
solution!” Feeling defeated, he dropped the diagrams onto the coffee table,
wondering if it was any use coming back to them.

He looked up as he felt Sans
place a hand on his shoulder. His brother’s usual grin was there, but Papyrus
could tell that it was forced. A dreary mood had been hanging over the
Undertale brothers’ house this past week, and Papyrus couldn’t help but feel
that he was to blame. “don’t worry about it, bro. you’re pretty smart, i’m sure
you’ll figure it out.”

Papyrus flushed slightly at the
praise, but shook his head. “OF COURSE—” he cleared his throat, reminding
himself of what Edge liked to call his ‘inside voice’. “Of course I am, Sans.
But sometimes, I feel that even my genius is no match for some puzzles.”

Sans’ grin faded slightly, and
just as he seemed about to respond, there was a knock on the door. Papyrus
immediately leapt up, straightening his battle body. “I’LL GET IT,” he said,
with perhaps a little too much enthusiasm. Sans shrugged, flopping down on the
couch and flicking on the TV. Tutting at his brother’s laziness, Papyrus
marched over to the front door, swinging it open. “BLUE, HOW LOVELY TO—oh…
Stretch, h-hi.”

Blue grinned cheerfully at Papyrus,
wrapping his arms around the taller skeleton’s waist in a tight embrace. “Papyrus!
We didn’t realise you would be here, how wonderful!” Papyrus tried to gather
the will to return Blue’s hug, but a lump had formed in his throat the moment his
had gaze landed on Stretch.

His lazier alternate was
slouching a little more than normal, his hoodie pulled up over his skull. There
was an almost unnatural pallor to his cheekbones, and he seemed to be avoiding
Papyrus’ gaze. “thought you had training with undyne,” he muttered.

Papyrus nodded, adjusting his
scarf uncomfortably as Blue released him, glancing between Papyrus and his
brother with concern. “I—yes, I did… it got cancelled.”

“oh,” was all Stretch said,
before pushing past Papyrus into the living room, dropping down beside Sans on
the sofa. Papyrus felt his soul sink in his chest as he watched him. There was
a weariness about the normally relaxed skeleton that Papyrus harboured a strong
dislike for.

He glanced down at Blue, trying
to force a smile as he guided the small skeleton inside. “Well, I’m happy
you’re here, Papyrus,” Blue said, beaming up at him. “And Papy…” Blue glanced
at his brother, his smile faltering slightly.

“How has he been?” Papyrus asked,
his voice unusually faint.

“It has only been a week,” Blue
said, somberly. “It’ll take time, but I’m sure he’ll be okay!” Papyrus nodded
weakly, but he found himself struggling to take Blue’s words to heart, his soul
feeling heavy in his ribcage. Seeming to sense his friend’s discomfort, Blue
took a hold of Papyrus’ hand, tugging him towards the kitchen. “Come! How about
we get started on dinner before the others arrive.”

Papyrus obliged, but he couldn’t
stop his gaze from flickering back to Stretch before disappearing into the
kitchen. The look on the other skeleton’s face sent waves of guilt through him,
and he suddenly felt a lot less enthused for the night to come.

****

“Papy, you’ve barely touched your
food…”

Stretch brushed off Blue’s
comment with an indifferent wave of his hand. “sorry bro, it’s good, i just…
don’t really have the stomach for it.” Almost on instinct, Papyrus opened his
mouth to scold Stretch for the pun, but immediately snapped it closed upon
remembering that it wasn’t really his place anymore. Much to his relief, the
other three younger brothers sitting at the table groaned slightly, sparing him
the need to express his own disdain. Although in truth, Papyrus had found
himself missing Stretch’s puns this past week.

“Well, Blue, this really isn’t
bad,” Edge said, taking a small bite of the lasagne. “Exquisite use of
seasoning.”

Blue flushed slightly, a small
smile creeping onto his face. But he shook his head. “Well, I can’t take all
the credit—Papyrus did an awful lot of work.”

Edge glanced up at Papyrus, who
felt a twinge of guilt upon seeing the sympathy in his expression. Papyrus
didn’t like being responsible for dampening the moods of others, so he cleared
his throat, nodding. “WELL, I—I helped a bit.” His words trailed off into something
akin to mumbling, and he was grateful when Edge smiled, before turning his
attention away from him.

One of the things Papyrus liked
most about his own alternates, was their ability to understand when he was
feeling uncomfortable—a talent the Sanses didn’t quite seem to possess. As if
on cue, Razz turned to Stretch, a sly grin on his face. “So, how have you been
holding up then?” Coming from anyone else, Papyrus might have thought the
question had been asked out of sympathy for Stretch, but considering it was
Razz, he knew better.

Stretch was silent for a moment,
before shaking his head. “i’d honestly rather not—”

“I imagine it didn’t take long
for you to get back in the saddle—you never were shy.” Papyrus stared at Razz
in bewilderment. The expression on Stretch’s face was strained, as if he was
struggling to hold it together. Razz glanced up at Papyrus, looking almost
vindictive, before turning back to Stretch. “Out of curiosity, how many was it
before you and the creampuff started boning each other? Where did he fall on
your,” Razz smirked, “extensive list?”

Papyrus suddenly noticed that the
whole table had gone silent, the gazes of the five other skeletons all fixed on
Razz and Stretch. Papyrus’ soul ached, and he wished more than anything that he
could say something to silence the smaller skeleton—but he knew it would only
make Stretch feel even worse. “razz…” Stretch’s voice was small, and he sounded
tired. “i really don’t want to talk about this.”

Razz rolled his eyes, huffing in
irritation. “Oh, come on. You two have been eye fucking each other all evening.
If you’re going to make us all put up with it, then the least you could do is
admit that you’re still—”

“Alright, that’s enough!” Papyrus
said, firmly, no longer able to restrain himself. He somehow managed to keep
his voice low, while still injecting a significant amount of conviction into
it. Razz finally fell silent, looking up at Papyrus with a bored expression.
But Papyrus barely spared him a glance, his attention entirely focused on Stretch.
His insides seemed to shrivel as the tell-tale signs of tears began to form at
Stretch’s eye sockets.

He’d been avoiding Papyrus’ gaze
all night, but finally, he looked up, and Papyrus felt as if he could see the
exact moment when his composure cracked. “i—i’m sorry, i have to go—” Stretch’s
voice seemed to break as he rose from his seat, hurrying out of the kitchen
before anyone could stop him. Papyrus heard the front door slamming a few
moments later.

He felt glued to his seat for a
moment, a sick pit forming in his chest. Guilt washed over him, and he didn’t
dare look up, not wanting to see the pity in the other monsters’ eyes.
Eventually, Blue sighed, standing. “I should go talk to him,” he mumbled,
heading for the door.

Papyrus quickly jumped up,
following him. “No—wait. I… I should go,” he said, placing a hand on Blue’s
shoulder.

Blue glanced at him, shaking his
head. “It’s fine, Papyrus, he’s my brother, I should—”

“N-no.” Papyrus straightened his
scarf, pulling himself up. “No,” he repeated, with a little more certitude.
“I’m the one who broke his heart, I should be the one to fix it.” Papyrus
didn’t wait for Blue to respond, not feeling quite up to arguing with the small
skeleton. He paused for only a moment after exiting the kitchen, the sound of
voices slowly picking up again. He felt ashamed. He hated being the one
responsible for that uncomfortable silence—that hesitance to speak of happy
things, as if they might upset him.

Resolutely, he began to mentally
build himself up, before heading for the front door. He found Stretch sitting
on the front porch steps, head resting on his knees as he gazed out into the
slowly falling snow. Taking a deep breath, Papyrus dropped down beside him,
catching sight of small tears trickling down Stretch’s cheekbones. “H-hello, Lazy
Me—um, Stretch.”

Stretch glanced up at Papyrus
briefly, before nodding his acknowledgement. Papyrus felt uncomfortable. He’d
never been very good at handling these types of situations. Comforting people
wasn’t his forte, and while he was more than glad to offer words of
encouragement from time to time, that didn’t feel very appropriate at the
moment. So instead, he carefully reached out an arm, placing it around
Stretch’s shoulders—he was certain he’d seen people do this in some of Undyne’s
animes.

Somehow, this seemed to trigger
something within Stretch, because he immediately broke down, a shaky gasp
escaping him, before he slowly devolved into sobs. He buried his head in
Papyrus’ chest, clutching onto his scarf as he cried. “Oh—oh no, please don’t
cry, Stretch,” Papyrus said, rubbing his hand over his alternate’s back. “I’m
sorry—I’m… I’m so sorry, tell me how to make it better, I’ll—”

Stretch shook his head, and
Papyrus was surprised when he heard a soft laugh between the whimpers. “oh—oh
geez no, p-paps you—you haven’t d-done anything wrong…”

“Then why are you so upset? Was
it Razz? You shouldn’t listen to such things, Stretch! I don’t think he’s quite
yet learned the etiquette of—”

Again, Stretch chuckled quietly,
his breath hitching. “nah, it’s—well, s-sort of, i just…” He trailed off,
looking up at Papyrus. Fresh tears began to form at the corners of his eye
sockets, and he released a heavy breath, shaking his head. “i—i want you to
know that—” He broke off, hands forming fists around Papyrus’ scarf.

Papyrus ran a soothing hand over
his spine, wishing he knew how to make this better. “It’s okay, Stretch. You
can tell me anything. I’m your friend.”

Again, Stretch shook his head.
“ah—stars pap, you’re killing me here. i—” His breaths were heavy, shaking
slightly as he tried to stifle his sobs. “you were my first, papyrus. you were
my first, and i…” Stretch gasped, struggling against the tears. “and i’m still
in love with you.” He pressed a hand over his mouth, quickly pulling away.
“i—i’m sorry, paps—fuck, i—i’m so sorry, you don’t need this, i’m being stupid,
i—”

Papyrus hastily shook his head,
wrapping his arms around Stretch again. “Don’t be sorry, Stretch. Don’t
apologise. You are still my very great friend.” Papyrus’ soul stung at
Stretch’s confession. He had been Stretch’s first. And to him, it had almost
meant nothing. While he had long battled with his feelings for his lazier
alternate, becoming swept up in the romance, he had soon come to realise that
what he felt for Stretch was nothing more than platonic. In fact, if he was
honest with himself, he wasn’t quite sure he’d ever felt that sort of
attraction to anyone.

He sighed, resting his skull atop
Stretch’s as his friend sobbed against him. He felt guilty. He felt
blameworthy. This was his fault. He shouldn’t have allowed himself to become so
enraptured by their relationship—he shouldn’t have allowed Stretch’s feelings
for him to have become so intense. He’d led him on, allowing him to believe
that they could ever be anything more than friends.

And now, like a puzzle without a
solution, he couldn’t fix it.

Congratulations on the follower milestone! You’re an awesome writer and you deserve every last one. As for prompts, I’m going to let you choose, because I would be happy with either of these: (42) platonic Fellbros, or (34) Edgeberry. Whichever one inspires you. Or neither, if neither of them catch your interest. Congratulations again! <3

Thank you, Kit! I feel bad because I’ve missed your last couple of request events, and I love your writing so much! But thank you for sending this in! It was a tough decision, but I ultimately went with the Edgeberry one because the inspiration hit me. But oh my god, I have to come back to that Fellbros one, so much potential for adorableness. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this!

Warnings for Blue being a manipulative little shit and mild sexual content.


Steeling himself, and taking what
must have been his hundredth calming breath of the morning, Edge raised his
fist and knocked three times on the door. A trill voice sounded from inside.
“Come in, it’s unlocked!” Slowly, Edge pushed open the door, entering the small
dorm room. Blue was seated on one of the beds, an assortment of books and
papers scattered across the sheets in front of him. He glanced up as Edge walked
in, a delighted grin stretching across his round face. “Edge! How lovely of you
to stop by.”

Edge nodded stiffly, distractedly
glancing around the room. “Is my brother here?” he asked, trying not to sound
as anxious as he was feeling.

Blue shook his head, his grin
fading slightly. “Oh—no, he just left to get some coffee before class. You
might be able to catch him if you hurry.”

Edge breathed an internal sigh of
relief and shook his head. “No, I um—I actually came to see you.”

Blue looked surprised, although
the tiny stars in his eyes sparkled slightly. “Oh!” A pale cyan blush crept
across his cheekbones, and Edge noticed him trying to hide it by ducking his head,
focusing aptly on the books in front of him. “What prompted this visit?” he
asked. Edge could tell he was trying to feign nonchalance, but the way his gaze
occasionally flickered up gave him away.

“Actually, I was, um…” Feeling
awkward hovering by the door, Edge walked hesitantly up to the bed, and Blue
glanced up, his eyes widening marginally. “May I sit?”

“O-of course!” Blue said,
stammering slightly. He shifted over as Edge slid onto the bed beside him,
twisting his hands together as he tried to calm his nerves. Silence ticked for
a few moments, Edge trying to build up the confidence to ask the question on
his mind. Eventually, Blue cleared his throat, and Edge flinched slightly. “So,
uh, what is this about?”

Trying desperately not to blush,
Edge drew himself up so that his posture was rigid. “I—I need to ask you for a
favour.”

Blue seemed taken aback, his brow
bones shooting up. “Oh? What favour?”

Edge played idly with a loose
thread on one of Blue’s pillows, channelling every ounce of his self-control
into not losing his nerve. “It has to do with, um—well, the thing is—” Edge
mentally cursed himself for being so ineloquent. Gathering up his strength, he
huffed a heavy sigh, turning to look Blue straight in the eye. “I’M FAILING ONE
OF MY CLASSES AND I NEED YOU TO TUTOR ME.” Blue flinched slightly at the sudden
increase in volume, and Edge blushed deeply, looking away quickly. “If… if
that’s okay with you,” he added, voice shrinking significantly.

“Oh,” Blue said, sounding a
little stunned. His large cerulean eyes were still wide as he regarded Edge,
who was trying very hard to fight back his heated blush. “Um, what class is
it?” Blue asked.

“It’s an astronomy elective I’m
taking,” Edge mumbled, his blush deepening. He neglected to mention that his
knowledge of astronomy was practically non-existent, and that he’d only
enrolled in the class because he’d known Blue was taking it too.

“I see,” Blue said, looking
thoughtful for a moment. Edge glanced at him hesitantly, his fingers clenching
into a fist as he apprehensively awaited Blue’s answer. After what felt like an
eternity, the smaller skeleton turned to look at him. “Very well—fine. I’ll
help you.”

Edge’s soul flipped, and he felt
a grin broadening across his face. “You—you will? Oh, Blue, thank you! I—”

“But,” Blue interrupted, holding
up a hand. A small, almost canny smile twisted the corner of his mouth, “I want
something in return.”

Edge felt himself slumping
slightly, but he tried not to let it show, quickly nodding. “Oh—yes, of course.
What is it?”

To his surprise, a pale tint of
magic rose to Blue’s cheekbones, but the little monster held himself upright,
keeping Edge’s gaze firmly locked. “I want you to teach me how to kiss!”

Edge very nearly let loose a
squeal of surprise, barely managing to stifle it with a cough. If he’d thought
he’d been blushing before, his cheeks now felt like a furnace, burning brightly
to the point he could swear the magic was glowing. “I—” He broke off, staring
straight ahead as he tried to compose himself. He could feel Blue’s gaze on
him, and it certainly wasn’t helping extinguish the heat in his cheekbones.
“W-why?” was all he seemed able to get out.

“Well, there is someone I wish to
ask to the Christmas Formal,” Blue said, speaking slowly, enunciating each word
as if to make certain Edge understood. “And it occurred to me that I have no
practice when it comes to kissing—which simply will not do if I am to be an
adequate date! Therefore, I believe I will need training before I am to
ask—this person—to the Formal!” Blue offered Edge an innocent grin, but Edge
couldn’t help but detect a hint of something else beneath the smile.

“But—” Edge scrambled for an
excuse, but his mind came up blank. He was very defiantly trying to push down
the small part of him that was more than eager to jump on Blue’s offer.

“It’s alright, Edge,” Blue said,
leaning a little closer. He had that smile on his face—a look that reminded
Edge so much of his own brother, yet seemed so out of place on the softer
skeleton. His proximity was sending a number of thoughts through Edge’s mind,
not all of them completely decent. “We don’t have to do this, if that’s not
what you want! I’m certain we can come up with different terms—”

“No!” Edge almost yelled. He
quickly snapped his mouth shut, feeling ready to melt into the carpet below
upon seeing the small grin Blue was giving him. “I—I mean, I don’t mind. I’m
happy to—to teach you how to…” Edge swallowed, “kiss.”

Blue clapped his hands together,
looking delighted. “Excellent! Shall we start now?”

“What?” Edge squeaked, the magic
rising to his cheekbones once again. Blue giggled slightly, covering his mouth
with the back of his hand.

“There’s no need to be nervous,
Edge,” Blue said, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “I am certain you will
be a wonderful teacher—and I, an excellent student!” Edge kept his gaze
averted, even as Blue cupped a hand under his jaw, gently turning his face.
“Tell me, what do I do first?”

Edge swallowed thickly, finally
lifting his gaze. Blue’s eye-lights were sparkling, excitement swimming within
them. Edge could feel the first signs of warm magic trickling into his mouth,
and he swallowed again, trying to dispel it. “W-well…” his voice came out
strained, and he cleared his throat. “Well—you can start by… by taking their
hands…” Despite having given the instruction, Edge still had to stop himself
from flinching when he felt Blue lacing their fingers together.

“And then?” Blue asked, sweetly,
tilting his head inquisitively.

“Then you…” Edge couldn’t help
it. He looked away again, the deep hue of Blue’s eyes becoming too much for
him. He felt a small hand coming to curl around the back of his neck, drawing
him in slightly.

“Is this right?” Blue asked. They
were so close, Edge could feel the smaller skeleton’s breath ghosting against
his teeth. Not trusting himself with words, he simply nodded. “What about
this?” Blue asked, trailing a single finger over the corner of Edge’s mouth.
Again, Edge nodded, though this time he had to suppress a small whine in the
back of his throat. His breathing stuttered slightly as Blue leaned close,
pressing their teeth together gently. It lasted only a second, but when Blue
drew away, Edge released a small gasp, staring into his glittering eyes,
transfixed. “Was that good?” Blue asked, his voice soft.

“Y-yes,” Edge breathed, surging
forward and pulling Blue into a deep kiss. A single swipe of tongue across
Blue’s teeth, and he was granting Edge entrance. Their combined magic sent
tingles through Edge’s bones, and he looped a hand around the back of Blue’s neck,
pulling him closer. The other hand was still intertwined with one of Blue’s,
and he gave Blue’s fingers a tight squeeze, his soul clenching in his chest as
he felt Blue return it.

When they finally broke apart,
Blue’s cheekbones were alight, but a wide grin was plastered across his face.
“That was excellent teaching, Edge,” he said, eyes sparkling. Edge wasn’t sure
how to respond, and he subconsciously twisted his hands together again. “But, I
think I need a little more training before I’m ready to ask—that person—out on
a date.”

Without warning, Blue pressed
close to Edge once more, enveloping him in another deep kiss. Edge’s gasp of
surprise quickly melted into a soft sigh, and he allowed Blue to tug him closer
by the collar of his shirt, his tongue tracing across every inch of Edge’s
mouth. All too soon though, Blue was drawing away again, and Edge reluctantly
released his hand.

Blue hummed, nodding
contemplatively. “Hmm, yes, those lessons seemed to have worked! I think I’m
ready.” A mischievous grin spread across his face, and Edge’s soul jumped as
Blue took a hold of both his hands, lifting them as he pulled himself into an
upright position, eyes bright. “Edge, will you go to the Christmas Formal with me?”

15, UF!Pap/SF!Sans?

Oh my, I actually had either Razz or Edge in mind when I wrote this prompt – both is even better! Honestly, this is just a whole lot of short jokes, sexual tension, and Edge being a complete tease. Thank you for sending in a request, I really hope you like it!


Razz scowled irritably,
straightening his jacket as he tapped his fingers impatiently against the bar.
His feet dangled above the floor where he was seated; this establishment had
clearly not been designed with those of lesser height in mind. While he’d heard
good things about the hotel, its reputation in his books was declining by the
minute. The longer he was forced to wait for the incompetent bartender to come
over to him, the thinner his patience wore.

Across the bar, he caught sight
of another monster, smirking at him. He was surprised upon realising it was a
skeleton monster, though he quickly feigned disinterest, rolling his eyes and
turning back to the bartender, who was busy tending to another customer. Razz
grit his teeth, suppressing a growl. Perhaps the staff here had been trained to
ignore patrons of his… stature, simply to complete the entire discriminatory
vibe he was experiencing. He cleared his throat, giving an irritated flick of
his hand. “Excuse me!” he called, not bothering to keep his tone polite.

The bartender turned, eyeing him
for a moment, before coolly saying, “I’ll be with you once I have finished with
this customer, sir,” and turning their back on him once again. Razz fumed
silently, huffing to himself. He was more than ready to leave, but his pride
was keeping him put—besides, he’d paid an awful lot of money just to get into
this place.

He suddenly noticed that the
other skeleton was still eyeing him—the amusement in his expression somehow
increasing as Razz’s gaze flickered to him. It occurred to Razz how tall he was
– likely explaining how he had
acquired the drink he was holding. With a scowl of contempt at the taller
skeleton, Razz turned away. Outrage coursed through him as the bartender
wandered over to a different customer, still callously ignoring Razz.

Hands clenched into fists on the
table, he muttered a curse under his breath. “In the name of—who do I have to
sleep with to get a drink right now!” Razz almost blushed upon realising how
unintentionally loudly he’d spoken, but his anger currently exceeded his
embarrassment. Once again, he caught the gaze of the monster across the bar,
who was looking thoroughly entertained by Razz’s disgruntlement. He cocked his
head questioningly, and this time Razz really did blush. Still, he put on an
air of disgust, glowering at the other skeleton. “Ugh—no, not you!”

The monster chuckled quietly,
taking a long sip of his drink—as if in mocking—before sliding off his stool
and approaching Razz. Quickly looking away to hide his blush, Razz swallowed.
He couldn’t deny, the other skeleton was impeccably dressed, and not
unattractive by any standards. Still, he wasn’t feeling entirely dignified at the
moment, and he wasn’t quite sure he’d be able to handle any amount of attention
this monster seemed prepared to give him. He dared a glance up as the skeleton
came to stand beside him, leaning against the bar. “You’re looking a little
unsatisfied—though I can hardly blame you for your… short temper—but perhaps I
can fix that?” Razz tried to ignore what he was certain had been a jab at his
height, refusing to look up at the other skeleton. When he seemed to realise he
wasn’t going to receive a response, the skeleton continued. “You can call me
Edge, if you wish.” He held out his hand.

Razz regarded it with mild
disdain, before allowing his gaze to slowly wander to Edge’s face. “Razz. And my
only wish is to obtain a drink. Alone.”

Edge chuckled again and withdrew
his hand, his sharp teeth pulling into a smile. “Well, Razz, I can certainly
arrange that.” Razz’s gaze drifted doubtfully to the bartender, who still had
their back turned. “Oh, not from here,” Edge said, seeming to sense Razz’s
train of thought. “There’s a far more distinguished private bar upstairs that I
think would be more to your tastes.”

Razz looked back up, narrowing
his eye sockets into a mistrustful frown. “Forgive me, but that sounds an awful
lot like a proposition.”

Edge’s smile didn’t falter, and
he lifted a brow bone, still appearing amused. “Only if you’re willing.” Razz
felt his soul stutter slightly as Edge’s crimson eye-lights flashed. But after
a pause, he shook his head, laughing. “My offer has no price. Consider this a
favour. It’s the least I can do for one of my more… fetching patrons.” Razz
looked away with a frown, irritated at his magic for reacting slightly to that.

Then something clicked in his
head, and he glanced up, his frown deepening. “… your patrons? You’re…” Edge smirked as realisation dawned on Razz.
“You own this place?” Edge shrugged, still smiling, and Razz scoffed, glancing
around and doing his best to appear unfazed. “You really ought to consider
hiring better staff.”

“I’ll put it on my to-do list,”
Edge said, offering Razz his hand. “But for now, would you care to join me?”

Razz raised a brow bone at Edge,
regarding him contemplatively for a moment. “Am I also on your to-do list?” he
asked, smirking.

Edge’s smile faded into a frown.
“I should inform you that I’m not renowned for tolerating crass, slapdash jokes
like that.” Razz smiled wider, deciding that perhaps this monster was dignified
enough to warrant his attention.

“You’ll have to forgive me,” he
said, smoothly, taking Edge’s hand. “Crude habits run in the family.” Inexplicably,
this seemed to amuse Edge, bringing the smile back onto his face. With a small
inclination of his head, he guided Razz towards the elevators at the end of the
room. Suddenly feeling a lot more complacent, Razz willingly followed, shooting
a smirk over his shoulder at the bartender, who was giving him a bland look.

The elevator ride was long, and
Razz could only assume they were heading for one of the very top floors. His
suspicions were confirmed when they emerged onto an empty corridor, lined with
numbered doors. He narrowed his eye sockets as Edge guided him towards one of
them, slipping a key card out of his pocket. “Private bar? This seems an awful
lot like your bedroom,” Razz sneered, though he wasn’t exactly complaining.

Edge glanced over his shoulder,
tilting his head slightly. “Given that I own this place, technically all of
these bedrooms are mine.”

Razz scoffed with a roll of his
eyes, striding past Edge into the vast living space. He tried to hide how
impressed he was by the incredible view of the city, and the spotless
furniture, by placing his hands on his hips. “Hm. Not bad,” he muttered,
turning to look at Edge. “Though, I suppose I can only offer proper judgement
once I’ve tested out the bed.” He gave Edge a sultry look, eye sockets lidded.

“At least let me pour you that
drink first,” Edge said, somehow seeming unswayed by Razz’s advances. He
approached the minibar in the small kitchen, glancing through its contents. “I
take it you’re not opposed to drinking port?”

Razz shrugged, humming
noncommittally as he strode over to Edge, who offered him a glass, still
smirking. Razz had to admit, he was surprised Edge was actually bothering with
the foreplay of the drinks. He’d genuinely expected that they’d be getting down
to business immediately. He swirled the contents of his glass idly as Edge
sipped at his own, observing Razz in silence. Razz looked up, pinning Edge with
one of his smirks—erring between cold and enticing.

Frustratingly, Edge didn’t seem
at all unsettled, simply continuing to regard Razz with a significant amount of
collectedness. Taking it as a challenge, Razz leaned in slightly, murmuring,
“Well, now that I have my drink, I believe I owe you a favour.” He allowed
magic to flow into his mouth, and he was certain Edge noticed it.

But instead of indulging Razz’s
flirting, he stepped away, placing his glass on the countertop. “The room is
yours for the night,” he said, calmly, heading for the door. “Do with it what
you will.”

Taken aback, and beginning to feel
irked at Edge’s coyness, Razz folded his arms, trying to ignore the part of his
mind telling him that he was behaving a lot like a spoilt brat. “It’s an
awfully large room,” he said. “What if I get lonely?”

Slowly, Edge turned to regard
Razz with amusement. There was a flicker of teasing in his eyes, which did
little to calm the anger slowly building within Razz. “There’s no… short supply
of patrons willing to buy a dashing young monster such as yourself a drink or
two,” Edge said, smirking at the reaction the thinly veiled crack at Razz’s
height extracted from the smaller skeleton. “I’m sure you can find one.”
Without another word, he turned and left, closing the door behind him.

Somehow—despite finally having a
drink in his hand—Razz felt more frustrated than he had the entire night.

Oh man oh man once again congrats on the milestone!!! ^^ is like to submit 29. “Who hurt you? Tell me who it was.” Or 49. “Is that a knife in your pocket, or are you just happy to see—oh shit, it’s a knife.” For Spicyhoney please. ^^ I can’t pick between the two so I’m leaving it up to you!

Thank you!! Also, damn you for making me pick, Bourbon! I went with number 49, but that other one is full of angsty potential, so I’m definitely going to come back to it at some point.

Also, this uh, kind of turned into a vampire AU? I hope that’s okay! Thank you so much for the request, and all your lovely art that continually inspires me to write self-indulgent spicyhoney fluff. I hope you enjoy this!


It was times like these that
Stretch really appreciated the night. From the clifftop he was perched on, he
could feel it all. The cool wind on his bones, the smell of the sea in the air,
the clear sky expanding infinitely around him—they were all things that allowed
him to feel that perhaps living forever wasn’t the worst fate in the world.

He smiled at the sound of
footsteps approaching behind him, turning slowly and rising to his feet. As
Edge emerged from the dark trees, Stretch’s grin widened, and he cocked his
head inquisitively. “is that a knife in your pocket, or are you just happy to
see—oh shit, it’s a knife.”

Edge rolled his eyes, approaching
with caution as he extracted the silver blade. His posture was rigid, and his
eyes alert as he regarded Stretch. “How long since you last fed?” he asked. The
question was routine, but Stretch only laughed, strolling languidly towards
Edge, who raised the knife a little in warning. But he made no move to stop
Stretch as he placed his hands on Edge’s shoulders, grinning at him.

“it’s been weeks. i’m practically
ravenous. the smell of you is driving me insane—in fact, i’m not sure if i’ll
be able to stop myself from ripping your delicious throat open and—”

“Ugh.” Edge shoved him away, and
Stretch chuckled. “You shouldn’t joke about it, you know,” he said, sliding the
knife back into his pocket. “I can never tell if you’re really—”

Stretch silenced him with a light
press of teeth to his cheekbone. He’d always enjoyed seeing the way Edge
blushed at even the smallest displays of affection. “for someone so young, you
have an awful sense of humour,” he murmured, as he slowly drew away. “besides,
someone as delectable as you is wasted as food,” he added, with a grin. Edge
flushed deeper, and mumbled something under his breath, but didn’t protest as
Stretch slowly wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug.
“i’ve missed you, you know,” he whispered, lightly touching his teeth to Edge’s
cheek. “we should really do this more often.”

Edge was stiff for only a moment
before returning the gesture, his hands sliding gently over Stretch’s spine. “I
wish that were possible,” he said, quietly, and Stretch could sense the hint of
sorrow in his tone.

Not wanting the mood to be
dampened, he pulled away slowly, meeting Edge with a warm smile. “how about we
just enjoy the time that we have, hm?”

Edge smirked, scoffing slightly.
“A rich statement coming from someone with all the time in the world.”

Stretch grinned as he took his
hand, guiding him towards the cliff’s edge. “but the only time worthwhile, is
the time i spend with you.” Stretch knew that Edge could likely hear the
underlying heaviness to his statement, but he had the decency to blush
nonetheless.

Stretch grinned as they
approached the precipice, the sea churning violently below, and the early signs
of a storm on the horizon. In the distance, dark clouds were forming, and
Stretch could smell the imminent rain in the air. “Why did you want to meet
here?” Edge asked, slowly lowering himself to sit with his legs hanging over
the cliff’s drop. “It’s a bit… open, isn’t it? What if someone sees?”

Stretch smiled as he sat down
beside Edge, hearing the quiet, but sharp intake of breath from the other
skeleton as he linked their hands together. “you worry too much,” he said,
shuffling closer to Edge so that their shoulders brushed together. “i like this
place. i hardly ever get to be out in the open.” He gazed up at the stars for a
moment, taking a deep breath of the fresh ocean air. “i hate being cooped up in
that tiny house all day—it really cramps my style.”

Out of the corner of his eye,
Stretch could see the small frown on Edge’s features. “One would’ve thought
that after so many years on this earth, you would have grown tired of making
ridiculous puns.”

Stretch snickered, resting his
head on Edge’s shoulder. For a moment, the other monster went rigid, as if
surprised by the sudden contact. But slowly, his posture relaxed, and Stretch
could have sworn he felt Edge leaning against him slightly. “growing tired of
puns would be like growing tired of you,” he murmured, letting his eyes fall
closed, focusing on nothing but the sound of Edge’s deep breaths and the warm
feeling of his body—so close to Stretch’s own.

He heard Edge make a small noise
of embarrassment, and smiled to himself at the mental image of Edge’s crimson
blush. “I can’t believe you just compared me to puns,” he grumbled, and Stretch
grinned. Still seeming flustered, Edge cleared his throat. “W-well, why did you
want to come here of all places? There are plenty of ‘open’ locations that
aren’t four hours away from where I live.” Stretch could hear the hint of
disapproval in Edge’s tone at being dragged out in the middle of the night, and
he chuckled quietly.

“i like the sea,” he replied,
eyes still closed as he nuzzled deeper into the nape of Edge’s neck. “it’s
wild, untamed, unpredictable…” He glanced up at Edge, smirking. Judging by the
deepening blush on Edge’s cheekbones, the metaphor wasn’t lost on him.

They were both silent for a time,
the crashing waves and gently howling breeze the only sounds breaking the peaceful
quiet of the night. Stretch pressed himself a little closer to Edge, revelling
in the scent of him. While Stretch couldn’t deny that most mortal monsters often
smelled particularly enticing, Edge was something different. It was almost
intoxicating, and appealed to more than just Stretch’s appetite. Lightly
touching his teeth to Edge’s cheekbone, he whispered, “you know, my offer still
stands.”

Edge remained silent, though
Stretch could sense the sudden tension seeping into his bones. Eventually, he
gave a deep sigh, squeezing Stretch’s hand slightly. “Stretch, you know I
don’t—I mean… I love you, but that life… I just don’t know if I could—”

“i know,” Stretch said, quickly,
hearing the hint of distress in Edge’s tone. “it’s just… if i had to spend an
eternity with anyone…” He drifted off, turning to gaze at the sea. He felt
guilty suddenly, for breaking their perfect moment. He knew Edge was likely to
continue turning him down—after all, it was difficult for someone who had spent
their entire life hunting Stretch’s kind to make such a huge commitment—but
still, Stretch couldn’t deny that Edge’s constant rejection stung his soul a
little.

He rested his head on Edge’s
shoulder once more, turning to press his teeth against the vertebrae of his
neck. He felt Edge flinch slightly as Stretch’s sharp canines scraped gently
against the bone. “i love you,” Stretch whispered, “and i want you to know that
i’ll always love you—no matter what you choose. and i promise, i’ll never take
that choice away from you.”

Edge turned, and Stretch could
see the beginnings of tears burning at his eye sockets. Cupping his face
gently, Stretch pressed their teeth together in a soft, chaste kiss. Sometimes
their love was violent, complicated, and unpredictable. After all, they were
from two very different worlds, and nothing could change the complications that
came with that.

But at times like these—when the
whole world seemed silent, as if they were the only two people in it—their love
was peaceful. It was by no means simple, but it ran deeper than anything
Stretch had ever felt. And whether it lasted forever or not didn’t matter,
because for now, it was enough.