“I know I shouldn’t be here,” Comic Sans whispered across the room. It was dark, but there was light streaking in through the window. Papyrus was half awake on the bed.
“It’s okay. Helvetica has gone for the night. You may have the spare bedroom if you would like.” The light fell in across Papyrus’ face. He smirked. “Or you may sleep here. I would love to feel your curves caress the sharpness of my body.” Comic Sans climbed into bed next to Papyrus and before he knew it, Papyrus’ letter Y was running softly along the opening to Comic san’s O.
“I want you.”
“This is wrong. What about Helvetica? What will he think?” Comic Sans’ neither region was dripping with want. It was a sweet smell.
“Shh, baby. He’s not here.” And Comic Sans pulled Papyrus over his text.
“Fuck me,” Comic Sans whispered, softly. Papyrus was more than happy to oblige and shoved his Y right into Comic San’s O.