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A Series of Undertale Requests

Chapter Text

Alphys had always been an overtly anxious woman. Almost everything made her overthink, overanalyse and eventually she’d overinflate the whole issue. Now that she had a girlfriend; an official, certified, actual girlfriend, her worries increased tenfold.

“Hey, Alph! You ready to go out?” Undyne asked, stood outside Alphys’ door with a large grin that would warm anyone’s heart and, in particular, Alphys’.

“Yeah! I-I think this outfit is okay for bowling, isn’t it?” She gestured towards herself, beginning to question her own statement already. She was wearing a pale purple skirt with a black shirt. Did she look overdressed? Underdressed? Undyne always looked so good with whatever she wore, she didn’t have to think about these things. Undyne could have turned up in a tablecloth and no-one would have questioned it. Well, they might have, but Undyne wouldn’t care.

“Alph, you look really cute. Like, really cute,” Undyne shook her head like she’d never seen someone so attractive.

“Thank you, Undyne!” She said, straightening her skirt out anxiously, “You look good too!”
And this much was true, Alphys noted that she was wearing that tank top that showed off her toned abs if you looked closely enough. Alphys tried not to stare and drool, but sometmes that was difficult! Undyne liked showing off her muscles anyway. Alphys could have sworn she wore the top on purpose when she was around her.

~~~

When they arrived at the bowling alley, they swapped out their shoes for the always-terribly-fitting bowling shoes and headed to their assigned lane. Undyne would have asked a few more people to join them, but that would have meant Alphys would have asked Mettaton to join, and, where she had nothing in particular against the guy, he sure was hard to get along with. And plus, it was much nicer with just her and Alphys. She enjoyed seeing how flustered she got whenever she flirted with her. She couldn’t flirt with her when her friends were around! She had to look tough! Papyrus would never let her live it down!

“H-have you ever played this before?” Alphys asked as she set up their lane, pressing their names into the machine.

“Nuh-uh,” Undyne said, looking at the bowling balls, “But from what I’ve seen, you throw these heavy balls down that lane, hit the pointy little things at the back there, and you win,” She turned to Alphys with a smile,
“Sounds like my kind of game- throw and win,”

Alphys laughed gently, “Just be c-careful!”

“I’m sure it can’t be that dangerous!” Undyne dismissed, pointing at the screen above them, “It says it’s your turn,”

“Oh okay!”

Alphys took her turn, picking up a lighter ball and rolling it down the lane, watching with hope as it took an errant turn straight into the gutter. She sighed, turning back to Undyne, who was watching with pride regardless.

“Yeah!! You did good!”

“I missed every pin,”

“But you won in spirit!”

Alphys laughed, smiling at her supportive girlfriend. She seemed to be able to do no wrong in Undyne’s eyes.
“My turn!” Undyne announced, leaping up to her feet and picking up a ball, “The heaviest ball of course- because the lighter ones are for WIMPS!”

Alphys looked at her through narrowed eyes before Undyne retracted her statement.

“Wimps and hot lizards!”

“Haha! Th-that’s better,”

Undyne walked up to the lane, surveyed the lane, felt the lane, was the lane. She was completely in the bowling zone, reeling her hand back, swinging the ball forward with all her might, a strained grunt escaping her lips as she heaved it forwards.

BANG!

The ball went upwards, straight through the roof of the building and into apparent infinity. Everyone looked at her, and then at the hole in the ceiling, with their eyes wide. Undyne couldn’t quite tell whether they were astonished or judging, but she wasn’t about to stick around to find out.
Alphys was completely silent with her jaw agape when Undyne pulled her by the hand, told her to swap her shoes again and paid the woman behind the desk, who’d apparently missed the whole thing.

“Miss, this is more money than you need to pay us,” She said, trying to give some of the money back to Undyne.

But Undyne refused, “It’s for the roof,” She said, pulling Alphys out of the door hurriedly before she questioned anything else.

Undyne was sure she’d ruined the whole date when she pulled Alphys out into the pouring rain, but when she went to drape her jacket around her shoulders, she saw her laughing profusely.

“I-I can’t believe you just did that- oh my God!” She said, accepting Undyne’s jacket gratefully, pulling the hood over her head, with giggles still in her voice.

“Hey- I paid ‘em,”

“Yeah- it’s just, the way you just ran out-” She carried on, laughing even more.

“Believe me, it’s not that unusual that something like this happens,” Undyne admitted, hoping Alphys was really okay with her accidentally breaking things left and right. She was too overzealous for her own good.

Alphys shook her head, “You’re incredible- a-and that was pretty impressive,”

Undyne looked down at her, an appreciative smile on her lips. Her girlfriend was amazing. “I love you, Alph,” She said, and she smiled even brighter when she saw that sweet blush cross her flustered cheeks.

“I-I love you too, Undyne!” She replied, pulling Undyne down gently by her arm to give her a much-needed kiss. Their lips met and Alphys could feel Undyne’s long locks of hair tickle her face, the heat of her breath, the wetness of the rain which ran down their features.

Undyne finally broke away, a dopey smile across her face, “Maybe we should get out of this rain,”

“Good call,”

Chapter Text

Mettaton rapped on Napstablook’s door melodically, taking a deep breath as he waited for them to open up. They’d done it, they’d broken the barrier, they’d made it to the surface with the humans- to where Mettaton could finally have his chance at being a star. But there was one thing Mettaton still had on his mind. His relationship with Napstablook.

The guilt of leaving them had always been easier to deal with when he pushed the thought of them to the back of his mind and tried his hardest to forget about them. But now he was planning on building a career with his beloved cousin, to build a life where he no longer pushed them away. It was difficult, all he ever wanted to do was spoil them with gifts and shower them in compliments, hoping with all his might that this would help the guilt go away. But Napstablook was never angry, never blaming him, always forgiving and promising to forget. This was somehow worse for Mettaton.

“Mettaton... You’re early,” Napstablook noted, when they opened the door.

“Never too early to see my absolute favourite cousin,” Mettaton said as he wandered in with that ever-bombastic voice. “Oh, Blooky, I adore what you’ve done with the place. It’s...”

“Empty?”

“I was going to say minimalistic,”

Napstablook looked around the room. There wasn’t really a whole lot to admire. A chair in the corner, a fridge, a television, and, of course, their DJ set.

“Did you want to... work on music?” Napstablook offered, moving towards the DJ set. It took them a moment to realise that Mettaton wasn’t moving with them. “Mettaton? Are you okay?”

“Yes, darling, I’m fine- I just thought we could do something else today. You know, instead of working,” Mettaton said, looking around the room for something they could do.

“Something else?”

“Yes! Like maybe we could watch a movie, or-” Mettaton paused, moving around the room anxiously as he spoke, “Perhaps I could take a look at the snails? You do you still have them with you, don’t you?”

Napstablook’s eyes lightened as he suggested this, “Yeah, they’re in the garden,”

Mettaton smiled, “Let’s go see, then,”

They moved out into the back garden, to which Mettaton saw had been turned into a snail racing track. His soul warmed slightly as he looked at it. The old family business right there in front of him. He hadn’t seen it in years.

And then he gasped, “That’s Percival! You still have him!” Mettaton said excitedly, stepping over the snail-racing line to get a closer look.

“Yeah... all the old snails are still here,” Napstablook said, floating over to where Mettaton stood, gushing at them all.

“Remember when I gave them all fancy names?” Mettaton said, grinning, “You’d always say that I was being silly because I was making-”

“Making them sound like royals,” Napstablook finished for him, his face nearly showing a hint of a smile.

Mettaton’s soul warmed, and then it beat hard within his body, making him feel slightly nauseous.

“I thought about little moments like that a lot when I...” Mettaton nearly trailed off, unable to bring himself to say it, but then he realised that Napstablook deserved to hear him admit it, “When I left,”

Napstablook’s demeanour fell, “I thought about them too...”

“I’m so sorry,”

“I know... It’s okay,”

Mettaton shook his head, “No, it’s not. What I did was selfish,”

“It’s fine...”

“It’s not!” Mettaton insisted, wrapping his arms around his cousin, holding them gently to his chest, “And I’m going to do everything in my power to make it up to you...” They stood in silence for a moment as Mettaton thought hard. There had to be something he could do to help. And then, when he looked around at all the effort Napstablook had put into making the racing track in their garden, obviously feeling a lot of attachment towards it, he had an idea, “I’m going to start the family business up again,”

Napstablook looked up at him, eyes wide, “...The snail farming?”

“The snail farming, the racing, the whole thing- we’re going to put the whole thing back to how it used to be,”

“And... You’ll help? With the farming?”

“Of course I will! I’ll come weekly-no, twice weekly and help out with everything. Blooky, darling, I want to make it up to you,”

And before Mettaton knew it, Napstablook was in tears, but hopefully happy tears this time.

Mettaton embraced them again, whispering to them in a hushed voice, “Anything else you want to do today, Blooky?”

“Can we just... lie on the floor and feel like garbage for a while?”

“That sounds delightful,”

Chapter Text

“DAAAAAAAD! THE TELEVISION’S BROKE AGAIN!” Papyrus yelled, his tiny fists banging against the screen, trying to get his favourite cartoon to pop back up. Think of all the silly animated hijinks he was missing! “DAAAAAAAAAAAAAD!” He yelled again when he didn’t hear his father’s footsteps approaching.

At long last (too long in Papyrus’ opinion), Gaster appeared in the living room, looking at what all the fuss was about.

Papyrus just pointed at the screen with a grumpy face, “Broke,”

Gaster groaned, “Again?! I just fixed it last week,” He sighed, looking round the back of the TV to check if any wires had come loose. “Ugh, it looks like it’s blown another fuse,”

Papyrus watched him with avid interest, “What’s that mean?”

“It means, Paps, that the electricity that passed through the TV was at an exceedingly high current, too much for it to handle,” He looked back at Papyrus, who’s eyes were on him intently, “Do you... have an interest in this sort of thing?”

Papyrus, who had only just reached the proud age of four and a half, nodded, “I want to know how to fix things!”

Gaster smiled, patting his son on the head. Sans had never been incredibly interested in engineering, it was all too much work for him. Sans was always better with sciences, particularly sciences that you had to think about and didn’t have to put too much effort into running around after. Papyrus was different, though, even though he was only four, he always seemed more swayed towards artistic skills. He painted and drew and wrote stories and poems. It was adorable for everyone involved. But now he was taking an interest in something Gaster could help him with, so he took hold of the opportunity with both hands.

“Well, okay then! First we have to unplug the television, even though we’re skeletons and wouldn’t suffer from the electric shock- it still wouldn’t be very pleasant,”

Papyrus nodded, running over to the plug and pulling it out, seeming to put all his effort into it. Four year olds were always a mystery to Gaster- they were always willing to do everything, and yet they barely had the strength to do anything- not even take out a plug.

“Good boy. Next, we’re going to move the TV to the floor so we can take a look in the back,” Gaster said, picking up the television and letting Papyrus hold onto the side, not really putting any of the weight onto him. Papyrus liked to think he was helping.

Papyrus sat down next to the television with his legs crossed, holding his chin like he saw his father do when he was thinking hard.

“What next? Do we blow it up?” Papyrus asked in an overtly serious tone.

“No! No- why would we do that?”

“You always blow things up at work!”

“Yes but- that’s for much bigger projects,” Papyrus lied, not wanting his son to know that he sometimes just blew things up to pass the time. He didn’t want Papyrus to end up exploding the dishwasher when he wanted something to do.

“So... what’s next, dad?”

“We take the back off,” Gaster said, pointing at the screw-holes and taking out a screwdriver from his lab-coat pocket. He began unscrewing as Papyrus watched, noticing his tiny face get closer and closer as he did so. Until he couldn’t actually see what he was doing anymore because Papyrus’ head was in the way.

“Papyrus, sweetheart, I know you’re interested but I can’t see,” He said, moving him back slightly.

Papyrus huffed and crossed his arms, “I want to try!”

“You want to- oh okay then,” Gaster said, passing the screwdriver to him.

Papyrus held up the screwdriver like he was wielding a sword like a valiant knight, “I will fix this TV!” He yelled, jamming the screwdriver into one of the holes and twisting it hectically.

Gaster had to commend his energy. His accuracy, however, was left to be desired.

“I’M DOING IT!” Papyrus yelled, frantically turning the screwdriver with a ardent expression.

After around five whole minutes had passed, where Gaster was watching with slightly worried amusement and Papyrus was working with spirited determination, yet still trying to unscrew that very same screw, Gaster took the screwdriver back off of him.

“Hey! I was nearly there!” Papyrus complained, waving his hands to try and grab the screwdriver back.

“I’m sure you were, but maybe I should help you out with some of this hard work- it’s only fair,”

Papyrus looked at him suspiciously, and then smiled, plonking himself back down on his backside and crossing his little legs.

Gaster soon got the screws taken out as Papyrus watched with marvel, like he’d just witnessed a miracle.

He was a very good listener as he listened to his dad, going through all the steps for changing a fuse. Papyrus made observant noises like “hmm” and “oh yes” whenever Gaster showed him where the fuse was or told him what the wires around did. Gaster wasn’t entirely sure whether Papyrus actually knew what he was talking about or was just making the sounds he heard adults use when they understood something. Papyrus was observant of others like that.

When they had removed the faulty fuse, Gaster left Papyrus on his own for a second while he fetched a new fuse, knowing that he was sensible enough to not touch anything. Papyrus was a good kid despite being very lively. Sans was the opposite- a lazy kid despite having a tendency to set up pranks for his father to find whenever he was least expecting it.

When Gaster returned, he saw Papyrus in the same position, staring at the back of the television as though he was thinking very deeply.

“I have the fuse!” He told him, sitting down beside his son and plugging it in. “There! Should be as good as new now,”

They stood up, putting the television back into place carefully. Gaster allowed Papyrus to do the job he did most expertly, putting the plug back in the socket. When the television came back to life, Papyrus sat down in front of it, happy to see his beloved cartoons back where they should be- in front of his eyes.

“So! Now that you’ve shown to have an interest in engineering- maybe I could show you how to fix a few other things around the house!” Gaster said, but Papyrus didn’t answer. He was too absorbed in the bright colours on the screen.

It was then that Gaster remembered that he was talking to a four year old, someone with the attention span of a goldfish. He bent down, pressed his teeth to his son’s skull as a skeleton would to kiss, and left him be.

Time to go find out where Sans was sleeping today. Probably in the laundry basket. Or on top of a radiator.

Chapter Text

“Undyne! I believe it’s time for you to take a break,” Papyrus informed the Empress, watching as she completely ignored his suggestion, “Undyne, you’ve been plotting and scheming maniacally for a whole five hours- even by my standards, that’s excessive,”

Undyne looked up at him, a snarl upon her rugged features, “I’ve gotta find a way to break the barrier- I can’t just sit around doing nothing when my people are trapped down here, Papyrus! I have an army to build, a kingdom to manage, a magical barrier that needs to be broken- you really think I have time to sit around with my feet up?”

Papyrus went by completely unaffected by her yelling, just giving her a supportive look, “Well good ol’ King Fluffyface never seemed to do any work as hard as this! In fact, I don’t think I ever saw him work- unless you count watering flowers- which he did a lot of,”

An uncomfortable silence passed the two of them after Papyrus mentioned the late king. Undyne avoided eye contact for a moment and Papyrus was sure she was about to start ranting and raving again. But instead she just grunted, returning to the document she had been pouring over.

“He… He was a good friend of yours,” Papyrus pointed out, knowing he was delving into dangerous territory here, “You always spoke of him so highly,”

“He is the King, of course I’d speak of him highly,”

“Was,”

“Huh?”

Papyrus looked at her, a little startled, “You said that Asgore ‘is’ the king,” He massaged the back of his neck nervously, “Don’t take this the wrong way Undyne- but I don’t think you’ve really come to terms with it all yet,”

Her countenance shifted, looking down at the papers in front of her, the words beginning to swirl in her vision, not making any sense. Stupid paperwork, she thought angrily, I can’t focus, I can’t think straight- Asgore never had any problems like this. All the grief he’d been through and he just carried on, always seeming so strong… She held her head in her hands, taking a large inhale.

“You’re right, Paps, I can’t think about anything right now- all I can think about is finding that human and grinding them to dust- and all their stupid, pathetic human friends too. I want to nothing more than to obliterate the whole lot because of what they did to him!”

Papyrus flinched slightly at her violent words, not wanting any humans to be ‘ground to dust’ no matter what they’d done. But this was obviously Undyne’s own way of coping, and so he didn’t protest.

“What right did they have to kill him, huh? They come down here looking for the nicest guy they could- just to kill him? I wanted to kill them and they spared me! And not only me- that idiot of a robot tried killing them on multiple occasions and yet he still walks around like he’s God’s gift. But they decide that Asgore should die? I just… don’t get it!” She was breathing heavily again, only seconds away from throwing something. And then she calmed herself, clenching her fists to stop herself from lashing out in front of Papyrus, “I just miss him,”

Papyrus’ soul fell, wanting to embrace her, knowing that she’d only shrug him off.

“I just… can’t believe he’s really gone, ya know?” She looked up at Papyrus, grief written in her features, “How can I be strong when he’s not here? He… He was like a father to me, I guess. I never really had a father so I guess he was as good as I got,” She sighed, slumping in her seat, “And he was good… He always had an answer for everything! He made me the woman I am today. He made me strong,”

Papyrus nodded, “He cared for you like a daughter!”

Undyne laughed bitterly, “Yeah, he did. He’d always say ‘Undyne! Would you like to come over for a cup of tea?’” She said in her best Asgore impression, “And I’d always accept because, what, am I gonna just turn down the guy who practically raised me? Anyway, when we had our tea, he’d always convince me to stay longer to show me something else- like a new flower he was growing or a book he’d been reading… Not really my sort of thing but I always listened because he could make anything sound interesting,”

“Remember that time he knitted you that itchy sweater-”

“And I had to wear it whenever he saw me so I didn’t hurt his feelings! Yeah…” She drifted off, staring at the wall as though her mind was overflowing with thoughts, though the look on her face was melancholic, almost in pain, “I’ll have to find that sweater out… I’m not sure where it got to,”

Papyrus made a mental note to remind her of that later, knowing it would bring her comfort to have something to remember him by.

“He was a silly guy,” Undyne said, as though to herself, “He always got marshmallows stuck in his beard when he drank hot chocolate… And everything he said sounded so old-fashioned- but he was a cool guy too! I mean, just watching him fight was an honour… I just wish I could see it again,”

Papyrus couldn’t help himself then, bending over her chair and hugging her close, feeling her arms hold him in return. “You’re strong, Undyne! We’re all here to support you,”

“I should have… fought harder,” She said, her voice muffled by her face being smushed into Papyrus’ shoulder.

“There was nothing you could have done,” He assured her.

“If I’d killed the human like I planned to-”

“But you didn’t,”

“I should have killed them as they spared me,”

“But you were better than that,”

Undyne stopped talking, letting Papyrus try his hardest to comfort her, holding her close and cooing supportive words to her. No tears fell from her eyes. She had been defeated from the inside. All she held onto was her happy memories of Asgore and one promise:

She would do everything in her power to destroy all of humankind.

Chapter Text

“Papyrus! You’re here!” Mettaton exclaimed, pulling the rather cranky looking skeleton inside before anyone saw him. Before he said anything else, he took him into his own portion of the lab, the place one place he knew
Alphys wouldn’t bother looking.

Mettaton dragged him by the hand and sat him down on his bed, smiling delightedly. “I almost thought you weren’t coming,” He admitted, going to sit beside him.

Papyrus, who’s sullen expression hadn’t lifted since he’d arrived, stayed silent, looking at the robot with great uncertainty.

“...What’s wrong, honey?” Mettaton asked, trying to get a smile out of him by squeezing his hand. “You haven’t been reconsidering this, have you? You don’t think this is a... bad idea?”

Papyrus looked at him as though he was being stupid, “Of course this is a bad idea! What if someone catches
us down here?! My whole reputation will go to ruins- never mind what could happen to you,”

“Nobody’s going to catch us! The only person who knows about this place is Alphys and she never comes
down here- please, darling, please, I’ve been waiting to get you alone for weeks,” Mettaton caressed his jaw,
making him look him in the eye.

Papyrus sighed, shakingly bringing up a hand to hold Mettaton’s stroking it with his thumb.

“I missed you,” Papyrus confessed, closing his eyes and leaning into Mettaton’s touch.

“I missed you, too, Papyrus,” Mettaton said, shuffling himself a little closer, placing a free hand on Papyrus’
shoulder, “I hate that we have to hide away like this. I’m so... starved for your touch,” Mettaton whispered,
ending his sentence with a kiss upon Papyrus’ teeth. “Touch me,” He breathed.

Papyrus obliged, running one of his hands up Mettaton’s thigh, massaging the robotic skin through his
leggings. Mettaton kissed him once again, sighing when he felt Papyrus’ hands on him. They’d been lusting after
each other for days on end, with only the thought of the other to keep them occupied. This was how they lived,
with the occasional alone time every month or so, the rest of the time they just had to dream. When they finally
got their hands on each other, however, there was no prising them apart.

“I almost forgot how handsome you are,” Mettaton muttered in between kisses, trailing them along his teeth,
passed his jaw and down to his neck, “You’re absolutely gorgeous,”

Papyrus, despite all his best efforts, felt his cheekbones warm, all of the compliments added with the constant
physical affection had him overwhelmed. Mettaton always had the advantage of having more arms than Papyrus,
using all four of them to touch him. There was a hand fondling his face, another tracing the shape of his ribs
through his shirt, another trailed up his thigh as the last stroked his spine. And through all of this, Mettaton was
pressing kisses onto his neck, sometimes using his teeth to nibble lovingly on the bone.

Papyrus tried his hardest to reciprocate the touches, wanting nothing more than to make Mettaton feel just as
good as he made him. He explored Mettaton’s body, pushing his fingers into his skin, eliciting small sighs to
escape his lover.

“I love this,” Papyrus commented in the midst of their desperate touches.

Mettaton pulled back slightly to look at him, and then he shook his head, as though to himself.

“What is it, Mettaton?” Papyrus asked, hoping he hadn’t said anything wrong.

“Nothing, darling, I just thought you said-”

“I love you,”

“Yes, that’s what- oh!” Mettaton gasped, pulling back from Papyrus completely, “This changes everything...”

Papyrus’ eyes widened, “No! Forget I said anything- just kiss me again,”

Mettaton sat back, “You said you loved me,” He looked away, “I can’t have that kind of emotional attachment
to you, Papyrus, I find being away from you hard enough-”

“Don’t you love me?” Papyrus asked, feeling his soul constricting within his chest.

Mettaton stayed silent for a moment, holding his breath, “Of course I do,” And then he released his breath in a
long exhale, “I love you, Papyrus,” He said, turning back to him with a steely look of confidence, “And we’re...
we’re going to make this work!”

Papyrus looked dubious, “But- you know love is seen as a sign of weakness. Nobody can know about us,
especially someone in my position- it would ruin everything!”

“Then we’ll run away,”

“To where? We’re trapped under a mountain!”

Mettaton huffed, “Well I don’t see you coming up with any great ideas!”

“That’s because there is none!” Papyrus quipped back, “We’re perfectly fine as we are- we were happy just a
moment ago!”

“Papyrus I can’t go on like this anymore,” Mettaton said, staring into his eyes with conviction, “When we’re
apart I ache for you. People aren’t supposed to live like this,” He pressed his forehead to Papyrus’, closing his
eyes, “Please,”

Papyrus closed his eyes as well, giving in to him, “We’ll work something out, I promise. But it won’t be easy,”

“Thank you,” Mettaton said, his tone hushed, “Now kiss me again while we still have time,”

“Gladly,”

Chapter Text

“Pappy, those pyjamas are adorable, spin around, let me see you from all angles,” Mettaton requested from his position in the bed, snuggled under the covers.

Papyrus did as he was told, turning on the spot to show off his new pyjamas. They were a black silky top and shorts, covered in tiny skulls. He’d chosen them because of the skulls alone, deciding that any item of clothing that had a pattern that resembled his face must be good.

Mettaton pushed the covers open next to him and patted the bed, “Come here, sweetie, I’m sleepy and require cuddles,” He said, shuffling further under the sheets, “Oh! Wait- before you get in, put some music on, will you? I’m not planning on falling asleep straight away… So we might as well listen to something, hmm?”

Papyrus nodded, going to the speakers and connected his phone, flicking through his songs. He tried to avoid any songs that sounded too sultry- that wasn’t the mood they were going for tonight. He finally just put on a playlist of acoustic and folk songs. It wasn’t Papyrus’ usual choice but he’d make do for tonight- it was good music for cuddling his boyfriend!

“Nice choice, Papyrus,” Mettaton said as his skeleton slid under the covers next to him.

“Yes, I thought so! We can’t have anything too lively while you’re sleepy!” Papyrus said, pulling Mettaton into an embrace.

Mettaton wrapped himself around him, leaning into Papyrus’ warmth. “Aren’t you sleepy? You had a busy day today, honey,”

“Nope! I don’t get ‘sleepy’, no matter how much work I do! That’s just another perk of being Papyrus!” He said, wriggling into Mettaton’s hold a little tighter.

Mettaton stroked his skull, “Oh really? So what about that time we watched that movie and you could barely keep your eyes open?” He asked, “You can’t tell me you weren’t sleepy then,”

Papyrus squinted, “I was terribly ill that day!”

“You was not!”

“I was, and you can’t prove otherwise,”

“Papyrus, being sleepy is perfectly normal and nothing to be ashamed of-”

“Says someone who gets sleepy almost every night,”

Mettaton paused, trying to work out whether he’d just insulted him or not. “Well, I happen to think it’s cute when you’re sleepy,”

Papyrus was silent for a moment, contemplating this, “…Maybe I do get sleepy sometimes, then,”

A small gasp of laughter escaped Mettaton’s lips. Papyrus was always so eager to please, only admitting things if he knew they were things Mettaton liked.

“Mettaton…” Papyrus began, gathering his boyfriend’s attention.

“Yes, darling?”

“Can I have a kiss?”

“Why, of course,” Mettaton replied, sitting up to lay a tender kiss upon his teeth. Mettaton’s lips were always so soft and inviting, making Papyrus’ soul flutter every time. “Want another?”

“Please!”

Mettaton chuckled, leaning down again to press his lips upon him. And then he kissed him again on his forehead. And again on his jaw.

Papyrus barely wanted to speak in case he interrupted his smooches. So he just lay there happily, rubbing the small of Mettaton’s back affectionately.

After Mettaton had given Papyrus his fair share of kisses, he snuggled back into him, content that he’d left his skeleton happy. Papyrus’ cheekbones warmed from all the attention, wishing Mettaton’s lips were still kissing him, but knowing he couldn’t expect him to do so all night. That would be ungentlemanly! In fact, now that he’d been thoroughly smooched, it would be wrong of him to not return the favour in some fashion

“Mettaton! Roll onto your front, I’m going to give you a thorough massaging!” He announced, escaping Mettaton’s grip.

The robot wiggled his eyebrows as he turned over, preparing himself for Papyrus’ luxury massage. Mettaton’s skin had always been particularly sensitive. He’d gone for years upon years as a ghost, never feeling the touch of another, never knowing what somebody else’s hands felt like. Now that he finally had a body and somebody who very much enjoyed to touch his body, every time he felt Papyrus’ hands on him, it was euphoric. And so Papyrus’ massages were always extremely pleasant.

Papyrus pressed his boney fingers into Mettaton’s back through his pyjama top, eliciting a small hum of enjoyment from him.

“You’re so good at that,” Mettaton purred, closing his eyes and letting himself relax. Papyrus was so attentive and sweet, always making sure he was happy. His fingers dug into his synthetics, pushing out all of the stress he’d been holding onto. He’d never get used to being pampered so often, but he’d have to. Papyrus always insisted on treating him like royalty, all he could do was try his best to return all of the affection, and he always did so to the best of his ability. “Actually, my legs ache a little- maybe you could-”

Before Mettaton could finish his sentence, Papyrus started massaging his legs, starting at his calves and moving up to his thighs. Mettaton sighed with delight, Papyrus knew all the perfect spots to add pressure, knowing just how gently or firmly he should touch and squeeze. Who needed to go to the spa when they had a Papyrus? He could almost drift off to sleep if he let himself. But he wouldn’t, he didn’t want Papyrus to take that as an insult. And so, he thought of something to keep himself awake with.

“You know what, darling? My butt kinda aches,” Mettaton said, as though it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Your butt?” Papyrus asked dubiously, looking at him with immense doubt.

“Yes,”

“Your butt aches?”

“Mm-hmm,”

Papyrus tittered, “Mettaton, you could have just asked me to massage your butt,”

Mettaton shot a look over his shoulder to where Papyrus was sat, “And where’s the romance in that?”

“Oh! You were going for romance?! I’m sorry if I didn’t get that, ‘my butt aches’ isn’t the most romantic line I’ve ever heard before,” Papyrus mocked, still massaging his thighs.

“Oh, shut up and massage my butt,” Mettaton shot back, trying his hardest to suppress a laugh.

“Well, only because you asked so politely…”

Chapter Text

“I honestly don’t know what you see in her, Alphys.”

“Wh-who? Undyne?”

“She’s utterly terrifying.”

Mettaton and Alphys sat on opposite ends of the sofa as Mettaton flicked through the television channels idly, watching the screen with a bored expression. The choice of television content was immense in the human world, and yet there never seemed to be anything worth watching.

“She’s not scary w-when you get to know her!” she countered, “She’s actually quite sweet and gentle.”

“Hmmph!”

“W-what was that noise for?”

“That was my noise of pure disbelief, darling,” he said, sprawling out on the sofa to get himself more comfortable, taking up half the space along with it.

Alphys crossed her arms. “D-don’t make noises of disbelief about my girlfriend! S-she’s a nice person,”

“I’ll make whatever noises I like, sweetheart,” he told her, stretching out further and laying his legs on Alphys’ lap. There, now he was comfortable. “She once threatened to ‘noogie me so hard my head caved in’,”

“That’s just her way o-of... bonding!”

Mettaton smirked, “Oh really?”

“It is!

He looked over to her, placing the television remote down. He’d never find anything of interest to watch at this rate anyway. “Say, honey, it’s cute to see you so defensive about her. You really have fallen for that angry fish woman, haven’t you?” he pressed, nudging her teasingly with his foot.

A small, hesitant smile grew on her lips, “Y-yeah, I like her a lot.”

He sighed, “Okay, well I guess I can’t change your mind about her.”

“You c-certainly can’t!”

“Even though she terrifies me.”

“Nope!”

They looked at each other with subtle smiles, knowing that they were both as stubborn as each other.

Once a silence began to grow over the conversation, and the hunt for something to watch on the television came to an end, Mettaton finally turned it off altogether.

“How about we play a game?”

“L-like what? I have plenty of games on my PC-”

“No no! I mean, like... Truth or Dare?”

Alphys gulped. That game always promised a lot of panic and terror for her. Alphys wasn’t the best person to be playing a game about truth, but then again, neither was Mettaton. Maybe they’d just have to take dares all night.

“O-okay then, you start.”

“Hold on, I have to get the wine first.”

“What for?”

“You expect me to play a game about admitting the truth without getting drunk beforehand? That’s preposterous.”

Alphys laughed, “You h-have a point!”


 

“Truth,” Mettaton said, tempting with fate. The only solace he had with playing this game was that, if Alphys started asking intrusive questions, he could always fire them straight back at her.

“How long are you g-going to let that Burgerpants guy think that you hate him?” she asked, “Because he r-really hates working for you- he tells everyone who walks in! He even t-told me- and he knows I made you! I-I think he holds me responsible.”

Mettaton rolled his eyes. “I’m going to stop treating him like crap when he starts acting like a good employee. See- he’s lucky I don’t fire him for talking trash about me behind my back. I was even kind enough to hire him again when we got to the surface.”

Alphys took another giddy sip of her wine, letting the fruity taste roll around on her tongue, “Y-you make a good argument.”

He also took a sip, or rather, gulp of his wine himself, almost downing half the glass. “That guy really does push me to the limit.”

“I-I see!” Alphys looked at him, a little worriedly. Maybe she should replace the wine with something non-alcoholic in a while. “Okay, my turn. I choose... truth?” she said regretting her choice immediately.

“Okay! Truth time,” Mettaton said, straightening up to think of a good question, “Have you, or have you not ever...” He gave her a mischievous look. “Had a crush on me?”

“O-oh my God!”

Mettaton smirked “I knew it.”

“W-wait n-no!” Alphys said, giggling infectiously, “No Mettaton. I’ve actually n-never felt like that about you.”

He looked at her like she’d just shot him, like she’d just said something to betray his whole trust and everything he stood for. “Never?”

“Nope! You’ve always j-just been my friend."

“But I’m so hot,” he said, as though he was trying to convince her to crush on him.

She had to cover her mouth to stop all of the giggles from escaping. “Y-yes but I was the one who m-made you hot. I got fed u-up of seeing your stupid hot face every time I had to work on it.”

“Now this is just bullying,” Mettaton huffed, trying his hardest to suppress a laugh. “You’ve seen me... in the nude.

Alphys snorted and covered her face, the laughter becoming too much. “I have! B-but I’d rather see Undyne in ‘the nude’.”

Mettaton finally caved, laughter pouring out of him. The idea that anyone would rather see Undyne naked than him was hilarious to him. He couldn’t quite believe it.

When the laughter eventually petered off, Mettaton shook his head. “Okay, my turn again. I choose dare.”

Alphys held her chin in thought. “I dare you to... call Undyne and tell her y-you love her!!”

He gasped, pouring another glass of wine quickly, not caring much when some of it sloshed over the side, and then poured the whole glass-full down his throat. He slammed the glass back down on the table and pulled out his phone.

Alphys had to hold her hands over her mouth again as Mettaton dialled the number, knowing that Undyne would be able to hear her giggling otherwise.

“Hello, beautiful,” Mettaton breathed when Undyne picked up, his tone full of wanton lust.

“Mettaton? That you?” she replied, her voice only showing confusion.

“Oh, you know who it is, darling,” he said, winking and biting his lip, far too drunk to realise she couldn’t see him.

“Well... what’s up?” she asked, his tone alarming her immensely.

“I was just calling to... admit s-something rather personal to you,” he said, slurring his words slightly but still holding onto his sultry voice, “You see, I’m just dreadfully in love with you and want nothing more than to... than to father your children!”

There was silence on the other end of the phone and both Mettaton and Alphys looked at each other, holding their breath to keep in their laughter. “Darling? Are you there?”

At long last, Undyne was heard again, this time, howling with laughter. “I can’t believe you just- oh my God! As if I’d-” More laughter, and then Mettaton and Alphys joined in, unable to help themselves. Undyne could be heard saying something quietly to someone else, and then laughing harder “Hey, Papyrus says he’ll father your children- so you can have that.”

“METTATON, DON’T LISTEN TO HER- I SAID NO SUCH THING,” A loud voice yelled through the phone, supposedly belonging to ‘Papyrus’.

Undyne spoke again, quieter this time, “He totally would if you asked him, though.”

“UNDYNE I CAN HEAR YOU TALKING ABOUT ME.”

“Well I gotta go- catch you later metalbutt.” And with that, she hung up, leaving Alphys and Mettaton with tears of laughter streaming down their faces.

“I really thought she was taking it seriously for a moment there,” Mettaton said in between laughs.

“Me too! I thought she was going to get all angry,” Alphys said, wiping the tears away.

“I thought she was going to agree.”

“WHAT?!”

Mettaton threw his head back and kicked his legs with laughter.

“She’s a lesbian, Mettaton.”

“I don’t know how strong my charms are-”

“Not that strong, Mettaton.” She patted him on the arm, knowing he was taking the fact that not everybody fell hopelessly at his feet hard. “O-okay- my turn. I’ll choose dare this time.”

“Alrighty, I dare you to let me give you a makeover.”

Alphys eyed him, wondering where the catch was with this dare. It seemed too simple. But when Mettaton started pulling out a black wig and makeup- she knew exactly what he was up to.

“You made m-me look like you!” she said when he was finished, looking into the mirror, “D-do I look hot now?”

Mettaton shushed her by placing a finger clumsily upon her lips. “You are always hot Alphys- now you’re just hot in the same way as me.”

“Y-you think I’m always hot?”

Mettaton nodded, “Everyone has the ability to be hot- it’s all in the personality.” He chuckled. “How do you think I got everyone in the underground to fall in love with a box?”

She giggled. “Th-that makes sense.” But then her brow furrowed. “But... don’t have a hot personality.”

“Of course you do... you know smart things. That’s hot to a lot of people- look you have a girlfriend so she must think so.”

She gasped, as though the mystery of how she managed to get herself a girlfriend was finally revealed.

Mettaton nodded slowly, grabbing onto her shoulders. “You’re hot Alphys! Say it with me, ‘I am hot!’.”

Alphys felt like she was about to faint. Or throw up. She wasn’t sure.

“I am h-hot!”

“Say ‘I am cute!’”

“I am cute!”

“Say ‘I would happily let Mettaton father my children!’”

“I would ha- Wait! I’m not saying that.” She laughed, “Mettaton, you have to let this go.”

He looked like he was about to sob. “But I’m so irresistible, why won’t any of you be infatuated with me?”

“Because that would be weird! Mettaton, I’m your best friend. Not everyone has to think you’re sexy.”

“You don’t think I’m sexy?!”

“M-Mettaton no- I-”

“This changes everything.”

They carried on like this for the rest of the night, daring each other to do increasingly stupid things and arguing about Mettaton’s attractiveness. In the morning, all they had left of the day was three empty wine bottles, fuzzy headaches and a photo Alphys had sent to Undyne dressed as Mettaton with the caption ‘don’t you want to father my children?’.

Chapter Text

Another day, another opportunity to shine. It was an easy life being loved and adored by everyone. Mettaton woke with a sparkle in his metaphorical eye, ready for another day of being himself. He’d always been mildly surprised when people took to his box-form so quickly, though he could hardly blame them, he was sexy. It was all in the way he treated people. He was dangerous and mysterious to his audience, always dying to see what he’d do next at the end of each episode, wanting to know what dazzlingly exquisite lines he’d pull out of his articulate mind next time. And to those he knew personally, he was kind and considerate. Every day he’d make his way to the resort and pull the doors open with panache, knowing everyone on the other side would be just dying to see him.

“Hello, Mettaton!” The receptionist said, barely able to keep the excitement from his voice.

“Oh, hello there, darling. Looking as beautifully angular as usual, I see!” He gushed, placing his hands on his screen in shock, as though he’d never seen someone look so good.

“Why, thank you!” They replied, sighing with happiness as he passed.

“Mettaton! How are you feeling today?” Another receptionist asked, trying to get his attention. Her whole head was in the shape of a hand, which she used to wave at him.

He sauntered over to her, looking surprisingly sassy for someone who didn’t have legs, “Oh, don’t you just look absolutely adorable today? I’m perfect as always, sweetheart, how are you feeling? Is your husband still giving you problems?” He asked, leaning towards her over the desk.

She huffed and crossed her arms, “Yeah, but don’t let me put you down with ranting about it,”

He waved away her concerns, “Oh don’t you worry, darling. I’ve just got to see everyone else and then you and I are going to have a little chat, okay honey?”

She brightened up then, “Thank you, Mettaton! That would be lovely,”

“No problem, beautiful! Your happiness is important to me! 

He wheeled away, moving onto another, less enthusiastic worker. Burgerpants was a tough nut to crack but Mettaton was sure, below his grumpy exterior, he loved him like all the rest. He just had to- there was no reason not to love him.

“Burgyyyyy,” He sang as he entered, only to realise he wasn’t here. “Huh,” He said to himself, wheeling around the counter and through the door in the back. Mettaton crossed his arms in disappointment. Just as he was about to leave and go find him, Burgerpants walked in, looking a little irritable.

“Wake up on the wrong side of the bed, sweetie?” Mettaton asked, his arms still crossed, “Because it looks like you’ve only just woke up a moment ago,”

“Sorry boss, I overslept,” He said groggily.

Mettaton wasn’t satisfied, “Burgerpants- you’re an hour late. You’re supposed to be at seven to serve people their breakfasts! Just think of all the poor people who missed out on their morning pretty-porridge! Their fabcakes!”

“Sorry boss,” He repeated, as though he wanted the conversation to end as quickly as possible.

But Mettaton wasn’t even nearly done, “Do I have to get the CD out? Because I’ll get the ‘you’re bad at your job CD’ out if I have to, darling,”

“No, boss. I’ve learnt my lesson. Won’t happen again,”

They stared at each other for a couple of seconds, the tension so thick you could cut it with a knife.

Then Mettaton turned, “I’m going to get the CD,”

“Ugh, no,” Burgerpants murmured, barely audible.

Mettaton stopped in his tracks, turning back to the cat monster slowly, “Excuse me?”

They stared at each other again, until Burgerpants finally grew a backbone, “I-I said no!”

“Care to explain why?”

“Because... Because you’re a jerk!” He said, looking as though he’d just let something off of his chest that had been weighing him down for a long, long time, “You act like everyone in the world loves you- and it’s mostly true, but I don’t! I freaking hate you,” He laughed a little erratically, “I don’t get why everyone loves you so much- you’re literally a rectangle! A rectangle with a wheel. And every day you come in here and tell me I’m doing something wrong, or-or you get that awful CD out! I’d rather you just yell at me. And what’s that thing you do with making me wear weird clothes you bring in? I hate that so much- but you just think it’s funny because you’re just some sadist with too much time on his hands. And this name! THIS NAME. I have to live with this nickname for the rest of my life and it’s all down to you! You embarrassed me in front of those two hot girls and now I’m going to be lonely for the rest of my life! And now I have to come here and work for your ungrateful ass every day! Why don’t you go and look at yourself in the mirror a little longer- or whatever it is that you do in your spare time- instead of yelling at me? You know- no one actually eats food covered in glitter on the surface, it’s horrid. And yet everyone still buys this crap from you because Mettaton made it. Because ‘Mettaton is so hot, I wish he’d make more disgusting food that I can pretend to enjoy! He’s so great!’ Everyone who loves you is just deluded,” He finally stopped himself, breathing heavily, heart pacing.

Mettaton, who had been silent throughout all of Burgerpants’ speech, looked at him sternly. And then he broke into sudden, bombastic laughter, making Burgerpants jump.

“Ohhh, honey, that was inspired! Such passion!” He praised.

“I was being serious,”

“I know you were,” Mettaton said, his tone turning grim, “But you have to remember one little thing,”

Burgerpants gulped, “W-what is it, boss?”

Mettaton leaned in close, whispering, “I’m the one who employed you and could just as easily find a more willing replacement. But seen as I’ve always felt sorry for such a low-life monster as yourself, I let you keep the job for this long,”

Burgerpants wrung his hands, starting to regret his outburst.

“I’d suggest, darling, that you never, ever speak to me like that again,” Mettaton said, “If you do, not only will you be out of work, but you’ll be out of work forever because of how disrespectful you are. Only I would dream of taking on someone as unemployable as you, sweetheart,”

And with that, he spun around left, ready to speak to the other co-workers like nothing had happened. Burgerpants took a deep breath, cursing himself for losing his cool. He wouldn’t do that again.

There was one thing he’d learnt from this experience, though.

He still freaking hated that guy.

Chapter Text

“Now, are you absolutely sure you’ll be okay with looking after them? If you’ve changed your mind I can always find someone else...” Toriel fussed, holding tight onto Frisk’s hand as though she were ready to run back out the door with them at any moment.

Mettaton rolled his eyes at her, “Don’t worry so much, darling- you’ll make yourself sick. If I say I’m going to do something- I’ll do it. And plus, it’s barely ‘looking after Frisk’- it’s spending some quality time with my favourite little human,” He said, ruffling their hair as he did so. “Honestly, Toriel, I’ll be fine with them. We’re gonna have fun!”

Frisk smiled, trying to slip their hand out of Toriel’s grip so they could go sit on Mettaton’s sofa. Or his ‘chaise longue’ as Mettaton liked to call it. Either way, it was the comfiest sofa Frisk ever sat on and they had their eye on it already.

At long last, Toriel let go and Frisk made a dash for it, as though it would be taken if they didn’t sit on it straight away. Mettaton chuckled, knowing his apartment must be a wondrous place for anyone who weren’t used to such expensive luxuries. The only problem he had about the place was that it wasn’t quite big enough for him. One day he’d have to pack up and move into a mansion, but until then he’d have to make do with his lavish apartment.

Once Toriel finally accepted that Mettaton was perfectly happy to have Frisk over, she parted with them, hugging Frisk tight before she left. Mettaton waltzed over to the kid, sitting by them with a confident grin.

“So, darling, you know why Toriel is so worried about me taking care of you? Does she think I’m going to let you fall off a balcony or something?” Mettaton quizzed, unable to stop himself from prying.

Frisk shook their head, “Nah, she’s just worried that she’s imposing,”

“Imposing?” Mettaton asked dubiously, “But I was the one who offered,”

“Yeah but, you’re a celebrity. She always thinks of you as working hard twenty-four/seven. She doesn’t want to interrupt anything,” Frisk said, kicking their shoes off and crossing their legs on the sofa, “Anyway, you gotta rest at some point, right?”

“You’re absolutely correct and I do rest... sometimes,” Mettaton stretched out, realising that he should probably rest more often than he does, “Does flirting with cast-members count as taking a break?”

Frisk held their chin in thought, “Depends, are you working while you’re flirting?”

“...Yes,”

“Then it doesn’t count,”

Mettaton squinted at them, twisting his mouth, “You’re probably right. I’m an incredibly good multitasker. I can flirt and act at the same time. There’s no need for breaks,”

Frisk tittered pulling their backpack off of their back and placing it on the coffee table in front of them.

“Hey, MTT?” They said as unzipped the bag, rummaging inside.

“Yes, darling?”

“You talking about acting reminded me of something,” Frisk told him, pulling out bundle of paper from their bag, handing it to Mettaton. He accepted it, looking over the scruffy looking sheets of paper with interest.

He hummed with delight when he saw the title, “Is this a script?”

Frisk nodded, “For the school nativity this Christmas. I thought they stopped it when I turned eleven... But we’re doing it again this year. I’m going for the part of baby Jesus,”

Mettaton didn’t know a whole lot about the nativity, or Christianity for that matter, but he knew that the baby Jesus probably didn’t have many lines. “You’re... going to play the baby?”

“Yep. It’s the best part. I don’t come in until the end and then I take the limelight being the most important character,” They explained, taking the script back and flicking through to the end, “There’s the lines I have to practice,” Frisk said as they passed them back.

“Hmm... Well, I can tell a teacher wrote this,”

Frisk eyed him, “How can you tell?”

Mettaton scoffed, “It says, and I quote ‘I am the baby Jesus, born on this day to bless humanity’. Where’s the passion? If I was born with the ability to talk, I’d probably say something a bit more exciting. Like ‘Huzzah! I have finally arrived after my vacation in the womb! I’d now like to bless you all with my exquisite presence. Now it’s time to party!’” Mettaton acted the whole thing out with dramatic hand gestures and varied facial expressions, making Frisk feel like they were a part of a movie. A very dramatic and silly movie anyway.

“That would make more it interesting...” They commented, “But I don’t think we’re allowed to change the script,”

Mettaton sighed, “A shame, I’d be able to convert this into a work of art,” He held his chin as his eyes scanned over the words, “Well, I’m anything but a quitter. I can work with what we’ve got. It’s all in the intonation, darling,” He stood up, gesturing for Frisk to do the same, “Come over here, let’s get some room. I’m going to teach you how to accentuate your voice and make sure all eyes are on you,”

They moved out into the middle of the room to give themselves some space.

“First of all, we have to warm our vocal chords up. Repeat after me, ‘awooga’!” Mettaton said, with the voice of a modern-day siren.

Frisk chuckled, “Awooga!”

“Louder!”

“AWOOGA!”

“Perfect!” Mettaton said, taking a deep breath, “Alright, now that our voices have been successfully warmed, let’s move onto building up our confidence,” He looked at Frisk’s demeanour, they seemed pretty casual, not much sense of nervousness, but he had to prepare them for every eventuality- including potential stage fright. “Now, as you’re only young, I won’t suggest you imagine your audience naked- though that barely ever works anyway. Let’s instead focus on your role; you’re the child of God, the definition of importance. Everything’s lying on you to make a good show. You may feel pressure to be the best person on that stage but I wouldn’t worry- you’re playing Jesus! That kid doesn’t have words anyway. Even if you make a complete flop of your lines- who cares! That whole play is about you. People will think you’re great regardless,”

“Noted,” Frisk shrugged, “I won’t ruin my lines, though! I have you as a teacher!”

Mettaton smirked, “You little charmer,” He said while shaking his head, “Alright, now let’s look at your lines- how about we start from the top, repeat after me, ‘I am the baby Jesus!’”

“I am the baby Jesus,” Frisk said back at him.

Mettaton looked at them from over the script, “Not to be harsh, sweetheart, but that was incredibly lacklustre. Say it as though you mean it!”

“I am the baby Jesus?”

“Now you just sound confused. You’re telling people who you are, not questioning your existence,” Mettaton said, knowing he should probably give them an example, “Instead, say it like ‘I am! The baby Jesus!” He spread his arms wide as he announced this, as though he was yelling it for the world to hear. “Born on THIS DAY to bless humanity!”

Frisk looked dubious, “I am the baby Jesus!”

“I am!” He said, “Accentuate, darling! Feel the words as they leave your body!”

“Okay, okay,” Frisk cleared their throat, “I am! The baby Jesus!”

A slow smile grew upon Mettaton’s lips, “Brilliant! You’re going to get this part if it’s the last thing I do,”

The school’s hall was full to the brim with parents and family members, all here to support their kids as they performed that same play that they did every year. The nativity. The highlight of the school year for the drama kids. For the others, it was just another day. Frisk had almost every member of their adopted family there to watch, the loudest of which, was Mettaton, telling whoever he could that ‘his favourite little star’ was performing. As soon as he was informed that Frisk had been given the part, he promised that he’d spare the time to watch them perform, and here he was. 

He was sat in the middle of the row, on one of those uncomfortable plastic chairs they force kids to sit on for the majority of their education.

“Mettaton! You’re here to see Frisk too?” A skeleton asked as he sat down next to him, a large grin on his face.

“I sure am. I helped them rehearse their lines,” Mettaton said proudly, stars in his eyes.

“Oh! I helped them as well,” Papyrus said, tapping the tips of his fingers together with delight, “With both of us as teachers, they’re sure to be the star of the show!”

Mettaton chuckled, “Of course,”

They looked over at the stage expectantly, waiting for the show to start. But they’d only just arrived, Mettaton knew it may take a little while yet.

“Do I know you?” Mettaton asked after a moment, turning back to the skeleton next to him.

“No! I’m Papyrus- I’m a friend of Frisk’s,”

“Likewise,”

“I’m actually quite a big fan of yours,” Papyrus said, as nonchalantly as he could, “Now I know how Frisk improved so quickly, being trained by someone as brilliant as you,”

Mettaton placed a hand on his chest, “You flatter me... You’re not wrong, though,”

The audience quietened down as the lights dimmed and the curtains on the stage opened, revealing the children dressed in their costumes, speaking their lines as though they were reading them straight off of the sheet. Mettaton wasn’t one to criticise kids, they were still learning, but he couldn’t help but feel glad that this was Frisk’s competition. They’d shine brighter than anyone else on that stage.

At long last, after everyone in the town was rude enough to close their doors on Mary and Joseph, they found a stable, noting the time for Frisk’s arrival was drawing near. When Mary finally had the baby after much suspense, Frisk stood from the crib they’d been hiding in, ready to say the lines they and Mettaton had put so much effort into.

“I!” They began, and then their voice faltered, seeing how many people were out there, “I am the baby Jesus, born on this day to bless humanity...” They said quickly, barely audible. Mettaton’s heart lurched, knowing how nervous they must feel. He’d put too much pressure on them to do good, and now they must feel as though they’d let him down. He couldn’t have that. He raised his hand in a wave, smiling brightly. When Frisk caught his eye, they smiled back, giving him a small wave in return. He gave them a thumbs up to tell them they were doing well, hoping they knew how proud he was.

“I am glad you could all join this celebration o-of my birth. Now, we m-must celebrate,” They stuttered, trying to get the words out as fast as possible.

Mettaton smiled again, trying to catch their eye. They’d got the part, they played the most important character on that stage and they’d tried their hardest to make everyone proud. In Mettaton’s eyes, they couldn’t have done any better.

When the play ended and the curtains closed, the family members congregated in another large room, waiting for the kids to be let out. Frisk was finally released, but they didn’t look wholly impressed. Toriel picked up on it immediately, kneeling to place both hands on their shoulders and asked what was wrong.

“I screwed my words up,” They complained, looking annoyed at themselves, “I didn’t do any of the things Mettaton taught me,”

But Mettaton just shook his head, “Really? You were excellent up there, honey, I’ve never been so proud. You’re a little star in the making,” He enthused, kneeling as well. He opened his arms for them, and they leaped into them, hugging him tightly.

“Thanks MTT,” They mumbled into his shirt, “You’re the best teacher,”

“Ahem,” Papyrus coughed by the side of them, pretending he hadn’t by looking in the other direction.

Frisk chuckled, “You’re good too, Papyrus! You both are! I’m glad you could both be here today,”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, sweetheart,”

 

Chapter Text

There were a few facts Undyne didn’t like to admit to.

One was that her nails weren’t naturally red with the blood of her enemies like she enjoyed telling people. In fact, she tried desperately each and every day to keep her short fingertips that vibrant shade of red by reapplying the paint each night, worrying lamely whenever she got a chip. If she ever let anyone know how diligently she took care of her nails despite her seemingly rough exterior, she’d be forced to exile herself from society, her reputation in tatters. Or, more likely, she’d laugh it off. It really depended on who found out, if it was Papyrus she wouldn’t care as much, knowing that he often painted his own fingertips just to look ‘cool’. But if someone like Alphys found out, she’d be beyond upset. Alphys still thought she was awesome in every way! She couldn’t know that her nails weren’t actually red due to her badass ways. She couldn’t know she was a fake! Where would that leave her? Forced to live out a lame lifestyle like everyone else? No chance.

Another fact that she didn’t like to tell anyone was that she quite enjoyed shopping for clothes. Most people wouldn’t care about others finding out about this, and not just because Undyne was supposed to be the description that came up when you searched for the word ‘cool’ in the dictionary, but because if anyone knew about how she liked clothes shopping, they’d want to come with her. And there was one person in particular who had been rather demanding about letting him take her shopping for a long time.

Mettaton.

Now, she didn’t hate the guy, or even dislike him for that matter. There was just something about him that really, really, really annoyed her. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but it was probably the way he tried to bother her at every chance he got. It wouldn’t be that bad if she didn’t see him so often. But now she was in a serious relationship with Alphys, it seemed that her annoying robot friend came along with the Alphys-girlfriend package.

He was always around.

And he couldn’t just leave her be, either. It was always “Undyne, darling, your hair is so… I’m looking for a suitable word… ghastly, please let me change it,” or “Undyne-sweetcakes, your dress sense could use a little pick-me-up. Actually, it could use an entire change. I’m not one to judge appearances but, wow,”. Undyne couldn’t take it any more. There was nothing wrong with the way she dressed! She dressed to make others fear and quiver before her, and her clothes certainly did the job (along with the nails drenched in the blood of her enemies, of course).

She still wasn’t sure if Mettaton was being serious or not. That guy seemed to have it out for her. Perhaps he was jealous of Alphys spending so much time with her, or maybe their personalities just clashed, but Undyne could tell their was a large amount of animosity coming from him.

And she’d be lying if she said she didn’t often treat him the same way


Undyne had been shopping for only half an hour before she moved onto the more expensive shops. She didn’t have expensive tastes but sometimes it was nice to peruse the things she couldn’t afford longingly. She knew one store in particular that sold these leather boots with epic fire patterns scorching the sides. But the price was always soaring into the hundreds each time she checked them, reminding her that buying them would only ever be a fantasy, no matter how badass they looked 

Whilst she was looking at a crop top with the words “hot stuff” printed on the front, thinking how Papyrus would appreciate it, she heard a distinct clanking of heels behind her. She didn’t turn around straight away, not connecting the noise to anyone in particular. That was, until the heeled person opened their mouth.

“Well well welly well well,” A deep robotic voice spoke, prompting Undyne to turn and see Mettaton stood facing her with his arms crossed. “Look who I found,”

Undyne sighed loudly, turning her back to him.

“You’re just going to ignore me, darling? When you basically just walked into my house?” He asked huffily.

Undyne narrowed her eyes, “What are you talking about?”

“This place,” He gestured with his arms at the store around them, “I’m here so often I might as well live here. It has all the best clothes, and I’m not just saying that because I have my own fashion line on show here,” He pointed towards another section of the shop, Undyne could barely look at the clothes there, they were all so bright and sparkling. It was like Mettaton had taken a tub of glitter and slathered it all over everything in the vicinity. He probably had.

“If I’d have known that,” Undyne said, starting to make her way out, “I wouldn’t have come in,”

“Oh, don’t be like that, sweetheart” Mettaton complained, standing in front of her so she couldn’t go any further, “I didn’t know you shopped around here! If you had told me sooner I could have helped you pick out some clothes,” He smiled brightly, as though he was offering her a gift, “Think of it as a bonding session,”

Undyne was about to protest, but there was something about his earnest smile that stopped her. Maybe he did just want to bond over clothes for a while? What if this stopped him annoying her for a while? That alone was a good enough gift.

“Well… alright, but I don’t really have the kind of money to be spending in here,” She admitted, stuffing her hands in her jacket pockets.

“Oh hush, don’t worry about that. I’ll pay for everything, gorgeous. I’ve been dying to play around with your look for a long while,”

Undyne wasn’t sure what that meant but she told herself to just go with it. Whatever Mettaton had in mind couldn’t be that bad. Could it?

“Okay, darling, your complexion… that deep blue… You’ve been matching it with red for a long time, and while you seem to know what you’re doing with that, I urge you to try something different,” He said, pulling out purple shirt and holding it up to her, “See, purple goes well with blue. It makes you look tranquil and serene… almost elegant!”

She raised an eyebrow, looking at the purple against her skin tone, “But I wanna look tough not elegant,”

“And that’s your problem. You only ever present one emotion. And that’s anger! Don’t you ever want to show people that you’re more than that?”

“Not really,”

He put the purple shirt back, “Well, maybe tranquil wouldn’t work… but we could definitely work with elegant. You’re tall and pretty so it could work…”

She blinked slowly, “Pretty?”

He chuckled, looking at a long black dress, “Darling, you’re beautiful, you just refuse to use that to your advantage,” He sighed, “I’m not saying you have to be feminine, not if that’s not you- but I’m saying we could definitely work with… varying your aesthetic,”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about right now,”

Even though Mettaton had his face turned towards a pair of studded heels, Undyne could sense him rolling his eyes “You have a strong aesthetic. When people look at you, it just screams out ‘I want to fight you in a bar brawl’, which I’m sure you’re happy with,” He turned to her, hands on hips, “But once people get to know you, they realise you aren’t that scary at all. And then you go ahead and wear the same old clothes every day- and suddenly they don’t look so tough any more. All they say is ‘I wanted to brawl you a few days back but now I’m kinda tired’,”

“My clothes… really say that?” She looked at them suspiciously, as though they were about to start speaking at any moment.

He nodded gravely, as though he’d just gave her some terrible news like he’d just run over her dog or accidentally blown up her house whilst recording one of his daring action scenes. He obviously took these things very seriously.

They spent the next couple of hours just searching through the clothes aisles in various expensive shops, not actually trying anything on, Mettaton just holding garments up to her and shaking his head. He kept talking about image and projection, how she wanted others to view her, how she wanted to view herself. She’d never really thought so hard about it but half the things Mettaton were starting to make sense. He never said that there was one good way to look, but that everyone had their own style and should use it to make themselves stand out. As someone who liked to stand out, Undyne could respect that.

“What about a skirt? You wear skirts sometimes, right?” Mettaton asked, feeling the material of a rather revealing mini skirt under his fingers.

Undyne turned her nose up at it, “Not often, no,” She told him, trying to get the idea of her wearing those tiny bits of fabric out of his head.

He shrugged, “If you don’t wear them often, it could be the perfect opportunity to show people that your style is versatile… But if you’re sure you don’t want to, I won’t push it,” He added when he saw the unconvinced look on her face, “I was just thinking that, if your legs are as well-defined as your arms, it may just add to your tough look to show them off,”

“I guess?”

“Oooh, what about shorts?”

“None of this sounds very tough to me,”

He sighed, running his hands through his hair, trying to straighten his thoughts, “You’re tough to shop for, Undyne, I can say that much. Maybe you’re just a lost cause…”

This was supposed to be a veiled threat to make her give in and just try some of the clothes he was suggesting, but she just got excited at the idea that he may be giving up on her. “Maybe I am just a lost cause,”

“Say, was there anything that you wanted to buy?” He asked, turning to her with a sort of urgency, “How about you just pick something, anything you want, and I’ll pay for it,”

She eyed him curiously, what was the catch here?

“Yeah? Anything? You sure about that?”

“Of course, darling, of course. I said this was supposed to be a chance for us to bond but nothing has come of it so far. Let me buy something for you,” He insisted, smiling that same earnest smile.

Undyne wasn’t one to advocate buying someone’s friendship, it felt like an ironically cheap tactic to her. But Mettaton had enough money to throw around and she wasn’t just about to pass up an opportunity like this. And she already knew exactly what she wanted.

“Well… there are these boots I really like,” She said, trying her hardest to push down her pride. She might as well enjoy this rare moment that Mettaton was being nice to her.

“Alright then! Consider them yours… If you just go with me to the hairdressers first-”

“WHAT?!”

“Look, I’ll pay for the hair, I’ll pay for the boots, I don’t care. I’m just dying to see what you’d look like with shorter hair,” He pleaded, giving her MTT-brand puppy dog eyes. He always knew how to get his way.

But Undyne wasn’t so easy to win over, “I’m not letting you cut my hair,” She disputed, shaking her head, “I don’t want the boots that badly,”

“You’d look so cute with short hair! Think of the possibilities-”

“I’m not doing it,” She interrupted, crossing her arms, “I like my hair how it is,”

They stood there, staring at each other angrily in the middle of a fancy store, moments away from being kicked out by snooty looking employees.

Mettaton finally broke the silence, letting out a long breath, “Fine. Don’t get your hair cut- that’s your decision. But I know it would suit you,” When Undyne didn’t answer him, nudged her arm, “I’ll still buy those boots, though, I’m not cruel,”

After a couple of seconds, when Undyne finally registered what he’d said, her eyes widened, “What, really? Why are you doing all of this for me anyway? I didn’t think you liked me,” She asked, hoping she didn’t sound sad about it.

He gave her a haughty laugh, “Neither did I, beautiful, but what can I say? I’m not very good at not liking people. I just want to buy people things and make them happy,”

“That’s… oddly nice,” She said, shaking her head in slight disbelief.

“I can be sometimes,”

Undyne almost felt bad for not taking any of his advice after he’d only had her best interests at heart, but she really didn’t feel the need to change her look anytime soon. Maybe she’d have to make it up to him some other way…

“Hey- how about I let you style my hair later?” She offered, regretting doing so as soon as the words left her mouth.

He gasped with excitement, “Me? Really? Honey- you are going to look so good, I promise,”

She chuckled at his enthusiasm, “As long as you promise no scissors will go anywhere near my hair,”

“Spoil-sport,”


It was an odd sight for Alphys to come home to. Undyne was sat on an armchair like the queen, two feet splayed across the coffee table. The feet themselves were clad in a pair of brand new boots, fire patterns up the sides like she’d been running so fast her feet were on fire, which had happened to her before. But none of that was the unusual part. What shocked Alphys most was seeing Mettaton sat behind her, perched teeteringly on top of the armchair as he played with Undyne’s hair. It seems that he’d started off styling it professionally, as he had curling tongs and hair-spray out on the table, but now he was just combing the curls out and plaiting it, obviously enjoying himself judging by the smile on his face. Undyne didn’t seem to mind either, as she was painting her nails as he did her hair, no longer caring about hiding anything from anyone.

“W-What’s going on here?” Alphys asked, more than pleased to see them getting along but still confused beyond all confusion.

“She made me buy her the most expensively tacky boots I’ve ever laid eyes on, so now she’s paying me back,” Mettaton stated simply.

“We’ve been here for hours,”

“Oh? You want me to stop?” Mettaton asked, hanging his head over hers to look at her face.

She looked at him, and then to Alphys, and then back to him, “…No,”

He chuckled lightly and went back to plaiting her thick red hair. It turns out, even if you’re Undyne, being pampered is always fun. And hey, Mettaton wasn’t that bad.

Well, until he started insulting her again anyway.

Chapter Text

The human had come and gone, leaving nothing in their wake but heart-ache and grief. The monster’s king, queen, and captain had all been turned to dust, as though their lives meant nothing. And the sad truth was, to the human, they probably didn’t. They’d caused so much pain, the monsters couldn’t possibly forgive humanity after this.

For a long time, it was also assumed everyone’s favourite star had also been cut down by the human’s cruel hands. Mettaton was nowhere to be found, his whereabouts a complete mystery. And so, by process of elimination, Papyrus was coronated king.

He was by no means anyone’s first choice. Some loud skeleton from Snowdin surely had no suitable credentials for a position like king, but they didn’t have any other option. Despite his lack of knowledge when it came to running a kingdom, he had a kind heart and would always have his people’s welfare in the fore-front of his mind. Even when people came along to question the way he ran the kingdom, he dismissed them, informing them that he had very little options in this time of great peril and they’d be welcome to give suggestions.

Nobody ever had suggestions. Only complaints.

In reality, regardless of who was upon that throne, it would always be them who got the blame for everything going wrong. Surely the blame lay most on the human that had turned everyone’s lives upside down, though this wasn’t always clear. If something was wrong with the kingdom, it was up to the king to put it right, whether that was within his ability or not.

Once Papyrus had been ruling for a few months, still not used to his new role and missing his friends dearly, Mettaton made an appearance within the kingdom once again. His apparent revival was seen as a miracle. A ray of hope! Their beloved Mettaton had returned to save them all! Perhaps he could even replace Papyrus on the throne and make everything right again.

But he didn’t.

Mettaton decided against it. He’d been too late to claim the throne. He’d spent the time after Asgore’s death searching for Alphys, missing his chance. Sure, Papyrus would have happily given the crown over to him, if he’d asked. But once Mettaton saw how difficult the life of a king was; not just lounging around whilst people showered you in affection, he figured his purpose in this kingdom should remain solely as a TV star. That had always been his plan anyway, no need to go and change it now that the kingdom was in trouble. In fact, it made all the more sense to keep on entertaining people right now. They needed it more than ever.

So that was Mettaton’s new job. The kingdom’s entertainer. And along with this role also blossomed a friendship with the king himself. They often worked together, Mettaton giving him sensible ideas for running the kingdom, Papyrus suggesting different shows Mettaton could put on to keep people happy. Mettaton also served as the voice of royalty. Every new royal decree could be announced on the television directly through him, a face people trusted. Knowing that both Mettaton and Papyrus were running the kingdom helped ease many people’s worries. For the most part, they made a good team.

But there was still one thing upon both of their minds. Something that they’d both put off talking about. But one day, Mettaton made a decision. He was going to make a change.


“Your Majesty,” Mettaton addressed, bowing low. He hid the smirk upon his lips as he lowered his head, trying to stay serious in front of the king 

“Was there anything you wanted, Mettaton?” Papyrus asked in return, looking at the robot who had burst suddenly through the doors of the throne room, a sense of purpose in his eyes.

Mettaton straightened up again. “I’d like an… audience with the king,” he requested, his smile evident now, showing off his pearly white teeth.

Papyrus smiled in return. “Would that be a private audience?”

“Preferably, yes.”

Papyrus stood up and lead Mettaton out of the room, his cape swaying behind him majestically. He took him through various corridors in the castle, past all sorts of rooms Papyrus had never even been inside. He went straight for the bedroom, the only place he could really be alone, and even then, people still knocked on his door to inform him of some other problem that needed addressing.

Mettaton had been to Papyrus’ room before. It was where they liked to chat. Sometimes it was nice to just sit and talk about trivial things with someone who was genuinely interested in hearing what they had to say. That’s what it was like for them. After spending a day as “The King” or “The Star” it was relaxing to just be two guys who didn’t quite know how they’d gotten into this situation.

Mettaton immediately directed himself towards the mini fridge Papyrus kept in his room, pulling out the bottle of wine he knew he kept in there.

“Want some?” he offered to Papyrus, as though the wine was his own.

Papyrus shook his head. “No! I must keep a clear head for the interviews later! I’m looking for new Royal Guards.”

“Suit yourself.” Mettaton poured himself a glass casually and sat down upon a plush sofa, gesturing for Papyrus to do the same. “What’s wrong with the current Royal Guards?” he questioned, taking a swig from his glass and placing it down on the table.

“Half of them say they’ll only answer to Undyne and the rest were hardly guard-material to begin with! I’ll never understand how Lesser Dog got the job!” He shook his head. “I just hope the new candidates are good enough.”

Mettaton scooted closer and pouted. “Sounds like such hard-work, darling. I can barely imagine the struggle it must be to keep a kingdom up and running.” He gestured for Papyrus to turn around and, when he did, he started rubbing the stress out of his shoulders thoughtfully.

Papyrus sighed, leaning into his touch. “Well, I can’t let people down! I’m all they have now…” He looked back at Mettaton with kindness. “And they have you, of course!”

“Mm-hmm,” Mettaton agreed, giving him a subtle grin.

It wasn’t unusual for Mettaton to be so touchy-feely, he often hugged, massaged and sometimes even pecked Papyrus on the cheekbone. It was normal. It was how Mettaton acted. But there was something about his demeanour today that felt… different? Papyrus shrugged it off. It was probably nothing.

“A-and! They have Sans! He helps a lot with the paperwork. I’m actually quite… proud? No, that doesn’t sound right…”

Mettaton chuckled, listening to him chatter away happily, not wanting to change the subject, but he did come here for a reason. He let go of Papyrus’ shoulders, letting him turn back around to face him. “You know, I’ve been thinking…”

“Oh?”

“And I can’t help but notice that it gets awfully lonely working around people who see you as an unreachable celebrity. Like, they know you but they don’t know you. I love my fans and the kingdom, but I’ve realised recently that maybe I want a little… more.”

Papyrus was now very aware of Mettaton’s presence next to him, he could feel the warmth of his body, all close and intimate.

“And then I thought, why am I here being so lonely all the time, when I have a devilishly handsome, charming skeleton just within my grasp?” He used his index and middle finger to ‘walk’ up Papyrus’ ribs through his shirt, one by one. “And you know who that skeleton is?”

“I could hazard a guess!”

When Mettaton’s fingers reached the top of his ribs, he took Papyrus’ jaw in his hand. “It’s you, honey.”

“Are you trying to seduce me?!” Papyrus exclaimed, the feeling of Mettaton’s hand on his face making his cheekbones burn.

Mettaton let out a low provocative laugh. “What gave it away?”

“Your seductive words and well, everything else!” Papyrus informed him, trying to still his thumping soul. “But I won’t complain! I-I’ve felt this way about you for a while!”

“Oh really?”

“I think about you most nights!”

Mettaton drew slow circles into Papyrus’ collarbone with his finger. “How naughty!”

Papyrus’ eyes widened. “Not like that!”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

Now Papyrus’ cheeks really were beaming. Of all the things he was expecting of this night, Mettaton trying to seduce him wasn’t one of them. In all the hard-work and tragedy that came with being king, it certainly seemed like he was finally being given something in return. Now he was going to grab onto this opportunity with both hands. Quite literally.

Mettaton had certainly grown very… tactile over the past few seconds. Surely it would be acceptable if he returned the affection, right? Hesitantly, Papyrus placed a hand on the lower half of Mettaton’s thigh, close to the knee, not daring to touch anywhere else.

“Papyrus,” Mettaton breathed as he tipped his face up to look at him. Without having to say anymore, Papyrus’ gaze lowered to Mettaton’s lips, which were parted slightly, as though they were inviting him in. He leant in slowly, gasping when his teeth made contact with Mettaton’s mouth. His lips were so warm, especially when Papyrus felt his balmy breath upon him. It was like a release, finally feeling the tension he’d been bottling up in his soul unwind. It was beyond imagination how good Mettaton felt, just being there to give him physical attention and romantic affection. It was like he said, theirs was a lonely life no matter how many people they saw that day. He couldn’t believe how long it had taken for him to come to this conclusion, glad that Mettaton had finally made his move. If he hadn’t, Papyrus would have kept his emotions to himself, deeming them forever unrequited.

As Mettaton’s kiss grew deeper, and Papyrus began to feel more confident in his tender touches, Mettaton’s hands wondered up and down Papyrus’ ribs, not sure what he was feeling for but knowing Papyrus enjoyed the sensation, judging by the little moans he failed to hide.

“You’re so handsome,” Mettaton whispered in between kisses.

Papyrus groaned in return, all words illuding him.

Mettaton’s hands found Papyrus’ tie, beginning to tug it open. “Do you want me?”

“W-we only just had our first kiss!” Papyrus blurted out, quickly pulling Mettaton’s mouth back upon him once he finished speaking.

“Is that a no?” Mettaton asked, hands hovering over Papyrus’ buttons as he waited for an answer, the tie dropped carelessly to the floor.

“No, I want to! I was just stating a fact!” Papyrus told him, excitement washing over him as he felt his buttons beginning to undo by Mettaton’s quick hands.

It was just then that they got a knock at the door, throwing them both off track.

Mettaton sighed dramatically and leant back, allowing Papyrus to escape his embrace so he could answer the door.

Papyrus really didn’t want to move but he supposed he had to. The kingdom could be in peril, or whatever. It was always in peril! Didn’t mean he couldn’t have sexy alone times with robots every now and then.

“What is it?!” Papyrus questioned when he threw the door open, seeing Sans on the other side.

His brother’s eyes widened upon seeing him, lipstick stains on his teeth and his shirt half unbuttoned and dishevelled. “You got someone in there?” he asked, trying to peer around him.

“What!? No! What did you want Sans?” Papyrus asked impatiently, hoping he could get rid of him as quickly as possible and return to Mettaton’s arms.

“Some guy just turned up and said he has questions about the Royal Guard opening. He wants to know whether they get free food.”

“Why would they get free food?!”

Sans shrugged. “I dunno, sounds pretty good to me.”

“I suppose I could make them all spaghetti to boost morale…”

“You already have enough jobs, darling,” Mettaton said suddenly, appearing behind him and wrapping his arms around his chest, pressing kisses into the side of his skull. “Are you coming back inside yet, sweetie? I couldn’t wait for you any longer.”

“O-oh! Yes, I’ll be there in a moment. Won’t I, Sans?”

However, Sans was unresponsive. His eyes went empty, as though he was trying to take his own sight away. If there was anything Sans didn’t want to see that day, it was Mettaton draping himself all sexily over his brother. In fact, there was never a good day to see that. Ever.

“Yeah I’ll just… tell ‘em you’re busy,” Sans said unemotionally, turning and shuffling off before Papyrus could say anything else.

“At last,” Mettaton revelled as he closed the door, “I have you all to myself once again.”

Without warning, Papyrus pinned him against the door and kissed him, letting his hands travel up his body searchingly.

“Now! Where were we?” Papyrus asked once he broke the kiss.

“I believe we were about to take this to the bed?”

“How lewd!” Papyrus scolded, taking his hand and leading him towards the bed anyway.

All in all, being king was one of the hardest jobs of all, but at least it had its upsides. One of them came in the shape of a sexy robot. That was something Papyrus wasn’t about to complain about. With Mettaton by his side, he’d be able to get through anything! But now, for the matter at hand…