Neon Moon—Chapter Three
by taitofan
Rated T for sexual situations
Disclaimer: I don't own Undertale or its characters.
Author's Note: There are no fever dreams in this fic.
If you have any CC, please share and I'll listen. Please read, review, and enjoy! Finished 10-30-15
When Papyrus said he'd get Mettaton to come over as soon as possible, Sans should have known that his brother meant just that—Papyrus ran to his room, emailed Mettaton, and in exactly the amount of time it takes someone to quickly travel from Hotland to Snowdin, there's a knock on their door.
Amazing.
Papyrus is opening the door and greeting Mettaton before Sans can even decide if immediately going to his room is considered "hiding" or not. In the end, he can't bring himself to flee, not when Papyrus quickly brings Mettaton over to him, as if Papyrus knows what will happen if he doesn't force Sans to stay put. Really, Sans thinks, his brother isn't stupid. Part of Sans even wonders if maybe Papyrus knows more than he's letting on.
Papyrus is talking, but Sans isn't quite hearing the words. He wears his easy grin as if he isn't staring at Mettaton, whose metallic body is still catching the light far more than it has any right to. Does he oil his body? Or wax it? Whatever he does, Sans is almost positive that Mettaton uses one of his own branded products, and Papyrus probably has three bottles of the stuff in his room that he'll never use. Maybe Papyrus uses them on Mettaton?
His mind wanders to the thought of Papyrus waxing Mettaton's legs until they shine like the stars, and he's filled with the nauseating combination of envy and excitement.
"So, I, the great Papyrus, will be back momentarily! Please, take this opportunity to become best friends while you wait for my triumphant return!"
Mettaton leans over and kisses Papyrus's cheekbone softly before Papyrus laughs heartily and all but runs out the door. Mettaton watches him leave, and the moment they're alone, he turns to Sans and frowns.
"I don't suppose you know why he has it in his head that we need to become best friends in the half an hour it will take him to get the ingredients for his "Best Friends Spaghetti"?"
Well, at least now Sans knows what Papyrus had been going on about as he thought terrible things instead of paying attention. That's something, he supposes.
"Couldn't tell you." Or, rather, he won't. He may want to do a lot of things when it comes to Mettaton, but he refuses to hurt his brother by acting on any of his desires. "Guess he just wants us to get along."
Mettaton sighs lightly and, after a moment of apparent deliberation, gestures to the empty spot on the couch. Sans almost ignores him out of habit, but he thinks better of it and nods. Mettaton sits, his weight dipping the couch down. There's always a bit of whirling that accompanies the robot, but now it's a little louder, a little more pronounced. Sans tries to keep it cool when he notices Mettaton's body shaking.
"…You okay?"
Mettaton turns to him and offers a smile. It's obviously weaker than what he was going for, because Mettaton never gives anything but smiles to rival the sun.
"It's nothing, darling, don't worry about me! I normally adjust my sensors as I get closer to Snowdin, so the cold doesn't affect me as badly, but Papyrus seemed so excited for me to get here as soon as possible that I rushed right over without thinking! It's my fault, but I'll be fine. My circuits just need to warm up a bit."
Sans thinks about what sorts of things could warm Mettaton up, and he's more than a little disgusted with himself.
"Heh. You really love my brother, don't you?" Mettaton looks surprised at the question, and Sans doesn't blame him. The first time Mettaton had asked Sans to back off because he loved Papyrus and would never hurt him, Sans had laughed in his face. "I mean, you wouldn't run into weather that could freeze your gears for just anyone, would you?"
"I do love him," Mettaton replies after a few moments, regarding Sans carefully, probably trying to compute the probability of a dunking in his future if he answers wrong. Sans doesn't think he could bring himself to do it unless Mettaton straight up hurt Papyrus out of spite, but Sans doesn't see that ever happening. "I know you don't want to see Papyrus hurt, and I know how I come across, but I love him. Papyrus is incredible, and I've never met anyone else who makes me feel like he does. He loves me, not just my fame or my looks. I assure you, I won't hurt him anymore than he'll hurt me. We love each other, darling, we really do."
Of course they do. Deep down, Sans has never really doubted that. He just…
God, he wishes there was room for him in the equation.
"Yeah, I hear you. You better keep loving him too or you're going to have a bad time."
His heart isn't in his threat, and judging by Mettaton's brilliant smile, he knows it.
"Of course, darling, of course." Mettaton scoots closer to him, and Sans can smell the MTT brand cologne on him. He barely has the capacity to wonder how a robot wears cologne. "Now, Papyrus wants us to be friends, doesn't he? Tell me more about yourself. Let's see if it matches with all the praise Papyrus constantly gives you."
He thinks Mettaton gives him a wink, but it's hard to tell when he can only see one of Mettaton's eyes. God, why is thinking so hard all of a sudden?
"I, uh, I like jokes."
"I've come to realize that," Mettaton replies, nodding patiently and gesturing for him to continue. Sans feels like a fool. What can he tell Mettaton that isn't something Papyrus has already said or is just plain ridiculous? "What else?"
"I study quantum physics," he blurts out before he can stop himself. Mettaton, rather than look disbelieving or laugh, lights up at the admission.
"Oh my, darling, how lovely! Papyrus said you were smart, but I had no idea!" He moves even closer, and their knees—or what passes for them—bump together. Mettaton doesn't seem to notice, or maybe he just doesn't care. Sans is quite sure he secretly cares enough for the both of them. "Tell me more…"
Sans doesn't know what Mettaton knows about the subject, so he throws out some basic theories and some of his favorite points of interest. Mettaton listens intently, and neither realizes how long they've been talking until Papyrus bursts back into the house with his bag of ingredients.
"I am back, and the Best Friend Spaghetti making may now commence!" Papyrus pauses, and Sans freezes as he realizes that his brother is looking at their touching knees. Papyrus looks up to Mettaton, and they share a long look before Papyrus smiles even more and heads towards the kitchen. "You two continue getting close while I cook!"
Mettaton isn't fazed by any of his boyfriend's antics, and he soon turns back to Sans with a smile that is one step away from being seductive. It's a far cry from how he looked before, and Sans wonders just what's going on all of a sudden.
"Well, best friend, do continue. Or, if you'd rather, you could tell me all about which of my shows you like the most? Papyrus tells me you've started watching them quite regularly."
Sans groans as Papyrus yells from the kitchen that "Sans likes your quiz show the best, though your cooking show is obviously superior!" and Mettaton eats up the praise. Still, he doesn't like talking about his hobby with Papyrus around, and he likes that look on Mettaton's face, so he takes the bait.
"I'm afraid my brother is blinded to the superiority of quizzes to cooking." Papyrus yells angrily from the kitchen, and Sans laughs, feeling much more at ease than he has been for a long time. Maybe this won't be so hard after all. He must have been imagining the heavy atmosphere before…
Then Mettaton leans in and murmurs, "Here's a question for you, darling. Would you smooch a robot?"
Sans can't answer for many long moments as he ponders if Mettaton really just asked that, or if he suddenly fell into some sort of fever dream. But Mettaton is smirking and he can still smell that cologne, and the room is suddenly very hot.
"What are my options?" he finally manages to ask.
Mettaton laughs and abruptly stands up, walking towards the kitchen with an extra sway in his hips. Without turnings around, he answers—"A, B, and C are Yes. D is Hell yes."
Sans knows his answer, though he doesn't say anything. He's pretty sure that Mettaton knows it too. Does Papyrus know too? Is this a set up? Just what the hell is going on?
Sans slumps back into the lumpy couch and prays that this really is just a fever dream.