Sans took a few tries to get the key into the lock. Finally, he got the door to pop open. Sans dragged himself inside and shut the door behind him. The house was very quite except for mumers coming from Papyrus' room. Sans glared at the offending door and made a sour face. He clinched his fist and slowly made way to stand infront of Papyrus' room.
He leaned in and strained to listen into the room. He heard tender whispering, bedsprings squeak like someone sat down, and finally a voice that said, "d...s-stop."
Sans never felt so angry in his life! He grabbed the doorknob with a tight grip and slammed his shoulder into the door. It smashes into the room scaring the two current residents. His eyes were glowing blue.
Sans glowered into the room and then suddenly deflated at the current scene being acted out on Papyrus' racecar bed.
Papyrus was on top of Mettaton, facing the foot of his bed. Mettaton's breathing was labored and his face was flushed. His legs were hooked around Papyrus' s hips. Papyrus had one of his fingers deep inside Mettaton's open heart port. It was clearly wet with fluid dripping everywhere. It was all over Papyrus' hand.
"Brother! I can explain," Papyrus shouted quickly, "I-I was giving Mettaton a massage! Y-Yes a massage that is what I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, does for his boyfriend!"
Sans was speechless. He didn't know what to say, so he kept opening and closing his mouth like a fish.