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.