Frisk rattled their chains, staring blankly at Mettaton as he twirled over to them, his long legs twisting to and fro. He smiled and grabbed their chin, tilting it up so that he could stare into their eyes.
"Cu-tie!" He exclaimed, his smile turning into a pleased grin as he stroked Frisk's hair.
They frowned at him. 'When can I be free?'
Mettaton froze, that broken grin flickering on and off as his eyes flashed red for a moment. He laughed. It was a little twisted. "You came back, didn't you? You went home and came back to me, darling." He pushed his forehead against theirs. "How can I let you go now? You're almost as beautiful as me."
Here he turned to smirk charmingly at the camera that always followed him around. Frisk sighed, knowing that they had lost him.
Frisk knew his voice well: they had been with him for almost a year now. He did not cry in earnest very often, but they knew what that sounded like too. Straining against the chains, Frisk fell to their knees and reached out a hand to stroke Mettaton's silky black hair.
His laugh was wet with tears. Glancing around to make sure the camera was not near, he whispered, "Don't you hate me, Frisk? Even I hate me."
Frisk sighed. They sighed an awful lot, even for a young adult. Pulling their small wrists from the shackles, they scooted closer and put their arms around Mettaton's neck, planting a kiss on his cold metal cheek.
He shuddered and pulled them closer, holding onto Frisk like they were the last person on earth.
"Here we have some fan mail for…Frisk!" He beamed at the human sitting next to him. They smiled back and Mettaton blushed rather dramatically, laughing awkwardly at the camera.
"Ahem! Anyway, this is from Monster Kid! Nice to hear from you, kid! The letter says…" Mettaton trailed off as he read the words. His fingers tightened around the paper as he glanced from Frisk to the letter, then back at Frisk again, his eyes slowly narrowing with anger.
"Looks like you have an admirer, Frisk! Ha ha! Ha." He stood suddenly, threw the letter at them like a jealous lover and stormed off the set.
Frisk blinked at the camera. It blinked back.
The show was a short one.
Frisk was sitting in front of Mettaton again. They folded their hands on their lap and waited patiently for him to speak. When he did, his voice was unusually quiet.
"Do you like someone, Frisk?" They had never heard him sound this hollow.
They nodded and he let a strange mixture of a moan and a sob. "Is it that Monster Kid?" He managed.
They shook their head.
Mettaton sniffled. "Who, then?"
Blushing lightly, Frisk leaned forward and kissed his delicate nose. He froze for a moment before letting out a howl and tackling them to the ground. He snapped the chains and kissed Frisk deeper then they had ever known.
The audience was in an uproar. The ratings were up and Mettaton was thrilled.
"A celebrity marriage!" Mettaton exclaimed, toasting the bashful human standing next to him. Frisk was wearing a wedding dress, and Mettaton was seriously considering upping the rating to R so he could rip it off in a moment of burning passion.
"Cu-tie," he murmured, smiling at them and only them for a moment before turning back to the camera.
Frisk sighed happily.