#danceswell

Please consider:

Danceswell Sans dances Vogue and that’s also his name.

Danceswapfell and Outerfell!!! ;n;

Honestly I am just seeing flashes of Blood accompanying Vogue to a royal dinner or something. And that was a bad move. ‘Cause as we all know this guy is starving and will eat all the food without any table manners, hoard it in his inventory/dimension boxes for later (and the other Horrortale Snowdin-monsters), and also almost cut the hand of whoever was stupid enough to try to stop him. Vogue is just slapping himself on the inside because what was he thinking taking Blood here.

Eventually Blood can’t eat more (and is probably sick from overeating) and Vogue just apologizes profusely to his queen before dragging his boyfriend home to force him to move around to treat that overeating.

Warnings: 16+, suggestive, nothing explicit, swearing

The beat was heavy in the air. The entire room was shaking, and Vogue’s bones vibrated. A familiar feeling, and a liked one. The flashing spotlights were all in pink, purple, turquoise. It wasn’t too different from the dance clubs at home. Yet, he was clenching the margarita glass in his hand. His eyes didn’t leave the dancer on the stage, and he kept crossing and uncrossing his legs. Behind him, this universe’s Grillby was pouring drinks. By the huffs he let out every now and then, it was obvious he was amused by Vogue’s discomfort. At home, that wouldn’t have ended well for Grillby. But it wasn’t his universe now, and violence wasn’t an option.

Hanging upside down in his legs, Lust winked at him from the pole. Vogue felt his cheeks flush. As tempting it was to avert his eyes, he found himself unable to. His soul was pounding in his chest as he watched. Almost unnaturally nimbly, Lust twisted around the pole, legs now completely letting go off it. His mouth went dry. The pole was turning, and once again Lust’s legs returned. He clung to it, horizontal in the air. Perfect in tune with the music.

Pole dance wasn’t inherently sexual, but the way Lust did it- Along with the constant grins and winks, Vogue’s trousers were getting uncomfortably tight. A chuckle came from behind him. At his side, Grillby leaned over the bar. “He’s good, isn’t he?”

Vogue nodded once, sending him a suspicious glance. It only made Grillby smirk. His flames were crackling calmly. Apparently the other didn’t see him as a threat. Or perhaps this world was just so unused to violence it didn’t even occur to him that Vogue might not be as nice. Then, however, the other’s expression turned more serious. “Be kind to him. He’s been through enough.”

That made him start, and he stared sharply at Grillby. Even so, he didn’t get any more information. Vogue sorted that in as something to as Lust about later. If this was going to work, he needed to know as much as possible about the other. There was no other way he could trust him. Then a loud wolf whistle rang through the air. Annoyance flashed through him at the noise when he realized it was meant for Lust, and he frowned. Lust was his. Even if an open relationship was a necessity, it didn’t mean he appreciated reminders.

When he turned his head to look at Lust, his face immediately grew bright purple. Lust was grinding the pole. He downed half his drink. The alcohol burned in his mouth. Stars, the other was going to kill him. Then, Lust took charged, swinging around the pole a couple times, before seating himself safely on it. Just as the song ended, he threw up an arm. His panting was audible even over at the bar. Everything went dead silent.

Fractions of a second later, a roaring applause started so suddenly Vogue jumped in his chair. A few drops of his drink spilled over, staining his vest. He didn’t even care, since in that very moment Lust swung himself of the pole. He bowed, smirking flirtatiously at the crowd, before he jumped off the stage and made his way over to the bar. His boot heels clicked against the stone floor. A new song was beginning to play, and the dance floor was filled with dancing, grinding monsters.

“Hiya, Grillbz, the usual please,” he greeted as he jumped up in the bar chair next to Vogue. Once he’d been handed his disgusting mix of alcohol and mayonnaise, he grinned at Vogue who was still fighting down his blush. “Enjoyed the show, beautiful?”

“I have to admit I was wrong,” Vogue admitted stiffly, making the other’s heart-shaped eyelights flicker in amusement. Especially when his eyes found the remaining glow in his trousers. Vogue glared at him, crossing his legs again, and Lust shrugged. “You are a better dancer than many Danceverse-monsters.”

A bright smile lit up Lust’s face and he threw him a kiss despite them sitting next to each other. Vogue huffed, but couldn’t help but smile. Rolling his eyes, he reached out and grabbed the collar of Lust’s crop top. The other gasped in surprise as he jerked him forward, pressing their teeth together. Lust hummed into the kiss, enthusiastically reciprocating. Vogue couldn’t help but moan quietly. By the Angel, he was a good kisser. It was passionate and hot and their tongues twisted around each other. And Lust’s arms were around his neck and then they parted and they were both panting.

Lust beamed, two fingers travelling up Vogue’s arm to his collarbone. It wasn’t sexual, though, just casual touching. Their foreheads were resting against each other as Lust chuckled. “Fuck, I love you.”