"The paint's supposed to go where?" Sonic asked, thoroughly perplexed as a paint brush was shoved into his hands.

Metal sighed, setting the can of paint down into the floor. The sunlight was pouring into Sonic's living room from the open window, shining off of Metal's blue armor. "It is as I said. I want you to paint me."

Sonic blinked. His mind was moving painfully slow for this, only causing him more suffering. Metal had an interest in art, but for more abstract things, like the beauty of a perfectly-executed science experiment or the simplicity of prime numbers.

Certainly not a paint job.

Sonic shook his head, setting brush down on the can. "I don't get it, Mets. Why would you want to get painted?"

"If you are concerned about the carpet, do not worry," Metal waved a hand dismissively. "I was about to advise that we do this in the kitchen anyway."

Sonic squinted, immediately suspicious. In the years he's had Metal as a friend, he'd learned a lot about how Metal reacted to anything and everything. Metal might have been a robot, but he had just as much personality as any other mobian, if not more. Thus, Sonic knew when something was off with him.

Metal was being too evasive. If Metal was asked a question, he would give the most blunt—and scientifically accurate—answer possible, unless he was trying to hide something.

"Mets," Sonic began.

Metal cut him off, "Is it the type of brush I've picked? I have multiple others for just this—"

"Metal."

Metal stiffened. His gaze had been averted to the floor, flickering back to Sonic only briefly.

"Will you not do it?" Metal asked quietly.

"Wha—no, just..." Sonic shook his head. "Why would you want me to paint you?"

Metal hesitated. He stared at the brush, the bottom of his optical screen turning a gentle red.

"You are the only one I trust to do this."

Sonic tried not to get distracted by the compliment, but he could feel his cheeks heating up. He had to remind himself to focus.

"I-I trust you too, Mets," he replied, trying to maintain his standard coolness. Metal had always had a bad habit of breaking it. "That's why I'm trusting you to tell me the truth."

Metal glanced over, surprised. He paused, letting out a soft beep as he looked away in thought. "You are far too perceptive."

"I get it from you." Sonic smirked. "Your fault for hanging out with me."

Metal sighed. "I suppose so."

Sonic waited patiently, knowing that Metal appreciated it. Sonic was not a patient hedgehog, but he had a few exceptions, one being Metal. Metal clearly needed time to think, and Sonic would give Metal as much as he could.

Seconds passed, Metal trying to look at anything that wasn't Sonic. Finally, he made eye contact. "I enjoy my current coloring, but it is incompatible with my desires."

"How?" Sonic pressed. "Your color's fine. I don't see how it could stop you from doing anything."

Metal broke eye contact, only glancing at Sonic every now and again. "The relationship I wish to pursue will be more achievable if I am a different color. It is currently... too similar."

"Too—" Sonic trailed off, realizing something. Metal wasn't looking at him; he was looking at his fur.

"You mean..." Sonic lost his words for a moment. "You want a relationship with me?"

Metal took a step back. Sonic took a step forward.

"Like... romantically, Mets?"

Metal beeped; a sure sign that Sonic's thoughts were correct.

"I..." Metal shook his head, reaching for the paint can. "Never mind. This conversation was a mistake. I will—"

Sonic reached down as well, but grasped Metal's hand instead of the paint can. Metal stiffened, staring at Sonic's hand for a long moment, then finally met Sonic's gaze.

Sonic chuckled. "The only mistake is if you try to paint yourself just for me. You don't need it to get me to notice you."

Metal stood straight. "I... I do not understand."

Sonic raised his free hand to Metal's face, resting his palm against the side of Metal's head. "Your colors are already perfect the way they are." He slid his fingers along Metal's muzzle. "I even like the gray here."

"What?" Metal asked in disbelief. "Gray is widely considered to be a boring color."

"Oh, I don't think it looks boring on you at all." Sonic grinned, eyeing Metal's muzzle like it was a piece of art. After pausing for dramatic effect, he added, "It's actually really kissable."

Metal choked out a single beep; a flustered beep this time. The bottom of his optical screen was turning even more red than before. "I...I do not think I heard you correctly."

Sonic smirked, his dominance in the conversation clear. "I think you did."

He leaned in, placing a soft kiss upon Metal's muzzle. He lingered intentionally, letting Metal's warmth sink in before pulling away.

Metal stared blankly, not moving a single inch. His optics flickered, showing that he was still processing things.

He stared down at Sonic's hand, which was still holding his own. "I-I—ah—I suppose..." He beeped. "Your hands feel superior to the brush, at the very least."

Sonic hummed, amused. "You can just admit that you were wrong about the whole painting thing."

"I-I was not!" Metal huffed. "I am merely staring that it would be suboptimal at the moment due to—"

Sonic stepped closer to Metal. Metal became quiet instantly.

"Is that right?" Sonic asked knowingly.

Metal averted his gaze, trying and failing to look angry. His free hand twitched, then reached for Sonic. Metal rested it along Sonic's shoulder.

"Just..." Metal dared to glance at Sonic. "J-just kiss me again already."

Sonic smugly obeyed. After all, he wasn't one to deny Metal of such a request.

The paint can was left forgotten on the floor.