“I only fall for the most graceful people, I have very high standards. I like—“ Sans was busy talking to his younger and taller smoker of a brother, Papyrus. He was trying to defend his type.

you come stumbling into the room slipping on the floor then falling into a bookshelf. Sans gaped, his skeleton jaw open as his face flushed with blue blush. Papyrus laughed, covering his mouth as he tried not to choke on his cigarette.

“I want that one.” Swap muttered, blushing to hell and back.