Trigger warning: drug use.

Chapter 10 – Getting to Know You

Like last week, dinner was a fairly uneventful but delicious affair. Mettaton had never had a full-fat hot dog before, and it had been a long time since he had had good homecooked baked beans and asparagus (actually, he couldn't remember if he'd ever had either of them).

Papyrus refused to eat any hot dogs after watching the grease drip off one of them. Instead, he took a burger and lay it on his plate. But rather than putting it on a bun and adding the other ingredients to make a hamburger, he cut it up with his knife and spread butter on the bun.

"What are you doing?" asked Mettaton curiously.

Papyrus blushed slightly. "Oh—I don't like eating with my hands. It's very messy, you see. So—so I just use my utensils instead."

"Oh, I'm not judging. I'd actually eat it the same way as you, honestly, but—" Mettaton pointed to his hot dog in its bun and grinned. "This tastes really good this way."

"He eats everything that way," Undyne broke in. "I don't know how he does it. It just seems like a lot more work to me."

"It seems like a lot more work to me to clean up your hands after you're done," Papyrus retorted, stabbing his meat with his fork defiantly.

"Is that a challenge, punk?"

"Not everything needs to be a competition, Undyne!" Alphys scolded, but she was laughing. "Let Papyrus be weird in peace."

"Yes, I—hey!" Papyrus glared at Alphys.

"I'm kidding!"

"Hey, Pap, you should tell everyone your big news," Sans interrupted around a mouthful of beans.

"Don't talk with your mouth full, Sans. But yes, I suppose I should." Papyrus puffed up his chest importantly. "I've been promoted at work!"

Instantly, everyone was fawning over him. "That's fantastic news, Papyrus, dear!" cried Toriel. "What position does that give you now?"

"I'm the manager of my division! I have a lot of people under me now," answered Papyrus proudly. "And I shall strive to be the best and fairest manager they've ever had!"

"What is it you do, Papyrus?" Mettaton asked.

Papyrus seemed to shrink, his confident attitude suddenly turning into shyness. "I work at a factory. We make books of word puzzles."

"Oh, so do you like puzzles, then?" Mettaton smiled.

Papyrus's face lit up. "Yes! I like them a lot, I'd build them all the time if the humans didn't think it was annoying."

Mettaton nodded. "They can be a bit of a bother. But word puzzles are fun. I'm glad you're working with something you enjoy, that's the most anyone could hope for, I think."

Papyrus shrugged and blushed. "Well, the intellectual stimulation that word puzzles bring is good, but it's really nothing compared to the happiness that you bring to everyone."

Most of the others at the table gave each other strange looks. Never in their lives had they ever seen or heard Papyrus dumb himself down in front of someone else.

That hadn't escaped Mettaton's notice either. "Oh, honey, don't say that," he said in genuine protestation. "Your work means a lot to people who care about puzzles. My work is fabulous, certainly, but you don't have to trivialize your own to recognize that."

Papyrus wasn't sure what to say to that, so he continued to eat his dinner without responding except to smile slightly.

Toriel broke the silence. "Well, I wish I'd known earlier about your promotion. I would have gone out and bought a cake or some other treat to celebrate."

"A cake would have been lovely," Papyrus agreed without thinking.

"I think this is a pretty good celebration already, Tori," said Sans, hoping she wouldn't notice his brother's slight rudeness. "We appreciate it."

The table fell silent except for the sound of utensils and glasses clinking against plates. Papyrus suddenly seemed very focused on his food, and he began humming absentmindedly as he ate.

"What song is that?" asked Mettaton.

Papyrus swallowed quickly and coughed slightly. "Oh, it's—it's nothing special, just a song. I, um—I don't like hearing other people chew their food," he admitted, his voice trailing into a mumble.

The skeleton seemed so shy and self-depreciative around Mettaton, and Mettaton didn't have the first clue how to help him stop. He'd tried simple conversation, he'd even reassured him and told him he shouldn't do that—but Papyrus seemed to stick with this weird attitude.

Well, there couldn't be any harm in continuing to talk to him. He had to get more comfortable sometime. Right?

"Well, I don't think there's anything wrong with that," Mettaton said nonchalantly, spearing some asparagus on his fork. "I'd do it too if that bothered me."

Papyrus smiled slightly; he'd never heard his odd mannerisms be so openly accepted before. No one was ever rude to his face about it, but he'd heard whispers. Having Mettaton's open approval was already making him feel a little better about it. He tentatively went back to eating and humming.

Eventually the meal was finished, and Frisk helped Toriel bring up some ice cream from the basement refrigerator. Everyone scooped out what they wanted—Toriel had to stop Flowey from sneaking a whole carton under the table. Most of them ate fun flavors like chocolate fudge brownie, black raspberry, peanut butter, or cake batter, but Papyrus just had vanilla, claiming he didn't like the mushy brownie chunks or peanut butter and that the other flavors were too sweet.

As usual, everyone helped clean up and put leftovers away. Papyrus offered to rinse off the dishes, but turned almost beet-red when Mettaton said he would help him. The skeleton then claimed that someone had to clean off the grill and rushed outside to do it.

Mettaton stared after him in frustration. Had he done something to spook Papyrus? But all he'd done was speak to him and try to be nice.

"Dude, what did you say to him back there?" asked Undyne, slamming the refrigerator door closed. "He's acting awful weird. Well, weirder than usual. He's usually pretty full of himself." She narrowed her eyes.

"I just told him I forgave him, and that he needn't worry about it anymore!" Mettaton defended himself. "A lot of good that did, I guess."

"Forgave him? For what?" Toriel asked, looking up from the dishwasher.

"Just said something he shouldn't have. But what else is new," Undyne answered dismissively. "Anyway," she added, turning back to Mettaton suspiciously, "if I find out you said anything bad to him, you're in deep trouble."

"Alright, enough of that, you two," Asgore admonished, handing Toriel a dirty plate. "Undoubtedly Papyrus is simply nervous. I mean, we do have a celebrity in our midst, after all."

Mettaton beamed, and Undyne rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, Mettaton, I wouldn't take Papyrus's behavior personally," Alphys advised. "That's just the way he is."

Lulu snapped some leftover macaroni into a plastic container. "Someone oughtta go out there and make sure he's doing the job right," she said, glancing out the back door. "We don't want him accidentally flipping something on and burning down the place."

"I'll do it," Mettaton offered, and before anyone could protest, he had headed out back.

Papyrus didn't even look up when he heard the door slide open; he knew someone had come out to check on him. He scraped the wire brush against the grill's tray and tried not to sound exasperated. "Everything's going fine, you can just—"

"It's just me, honey," replied Mettaton, sitting on the end of the picnic table next to the grill.

Papyrus's head snapped up at the sound of the robot's voice. He swallowed and focused back on his work, saying nothing.

Mettaton watched him passively for a minute before speaking again. "So… Papyrus… I've heard quite a bit about you."

"You-you have?" Papyrus blinked rapidly. They'd been talking about him? Well, that wasn't really surprising.

"Well, I still don't really know that much," Mettaton admitted. "But I recall someone telling me that you're my biggest fan."

"I do like your shows a lot," mumbled Papyrus.

Mettaton smiled. "I'd love to know what you find so fascinating about me. Other than the obvious, I mean."

"Well…" Papyrus could feel himself getting excited, but he tried to think carefully and keep his voice steady. "I think you're a very inspirational person, you just came out of nowhere and became the biggest star in the Underground, beloved by everyone, almost immediately! And you always stress the importance of loving and believing in yourself, and you never seem to judge anyone for anything. And—and you also really seemed to believe in other people, too. And—I don't know. I just think you're a very nice person. And it shows on the outside, I think you're very—" He blushed and broke off.

"You think I'm very what?"

Papyrus inhaled. "Handsome."

Mettaton laughed lightly. "Well, darling, you're not the first. Most people would agree I'm very pleasing to look at."

Papyrus ducked behind the grill cover to hide his grin and scrubbed hard at another section of the tray. "I certainly appreciate your appearance. And your skills!" He looked up briefly and beamed at Mettaton. "I was going to try and cook like you, but Undyne suggested I take lessons with her instead, since she lives nearby, and I could come see her. And then a few weeks ago, Sans made me sign up for cooking lessons at the community center." He realized he was babbling, and he quickly shut his jaw.

"No, go on, darling. I do remember hearing something like that last week."

Papyrus shrugged. "You don't want to hear me talk. I'm certain that you are far more interesting than I am."

There it was again—that strange, apparently out-of-character modesty. No, not modesty—Papyrus was straight up putting himself down. And it didn't make Mettaton happy.

"Not to be blunt, honey, but I think you're wrong," the robot protested. "We're all interesting in our own way. And I'd love to know what makes you interesting."

"O-Oh… um, well…" Papyrus closed the grill and hung the brush on a hook on the side. He tried to gather up all the characteristics of himself, real or fabricated, that he thought usually got people to like him. "What would you like to hear about?"

Mettaton shrugged. "Well, you said you work at a puzzle-book factory, and you like puzzles—what else do you like?"

Papyrus floundered, unsure what answer Mettaton was looking for. "I, um… what do you like?" he countered, hoping Mettaton's answer would help him out.

But Mettaton shook his head. "Oh, no, Papyrus. I'm asking the questions right now, and I'm asking about you."

Papyrus huffed. "Okay. Well, I really like… spaghetti."

"Do you now?" Mettaton crossed his legs.

"Yes, I, uh… spaghetti! It's my favorite food. I'd—I'd eat it every day if I could. And I love cooking it, and other people like it, too—although they almost never leave room for it…" Papyrus trailed off uncertainly.

Mettaton gave him a searching look. "I don't think I believe you."

Papyrus was taken aback. "Excuse me?"

Mettaton put his hands up. "Alright, alright, let me rephrase. I believe you like cooking it for people—Alphys told me as much. But I don't think it's your favorite food."

"How would you know that?" Papyrus demanded, crossing his arms.

"If it were really your favorite, and you really wanted to eat it every day, you would've had some last week, when you brought some for dinner. But I know you didn't."

Papyrus froze, then laughed sheepishly. "Wowie, you have quite the memory!" Then he sighed and sat in a deck chair across from Mettaton. "I suppose there's no hiding it now—you're right. Spaghetti isn't my favorite food, I've never even had any."

Mettaton blinked. "You—you haven't ever had spaghetti? But—but don't you taste it before you serve it to people?"

"No…" Papyrus's leg started bouncing rapidly. "Why would I do that? The food is for my guests and friends, not for me."

"Yes, but—normally you taste it before you serve it, so you can be sure that it's edible…" Mettaton was a bit lost for words; taste-testing food was a basic tenet of cooking.

Then again, Papyrus had had Undyne for a teacher for who knows how long.

"Well, it's not massively important, I guess. Anyway," Mettaton moved on swiftly, "what is your favorite food, then?"

Papyrus opened his mouth slightly, then closed it.

"You know, honey," Mettaton said, leaning forward a bit, "you said you thought I seemed to be unjudgmental. If you really think that, then you don't need to be afraid to tell the truth."

Papyrus supposed his logic was sound. "Well, alright. I really like… this kind of oatmeal, it has these sugary little eggs in it, and when you heat it up, the eggs hatch into dinosaurs." He looked up at Mettaton almost shyly.

Mettaton smiled. "Really? I've never heard of that. But then, I haven't had oatmeal before. But it sounds clever and cute."

"You've never had oatmeal before?" cried Papyrus incredulously, without thinking. "You're missing out very much! I will have to give you a packet or two sometime."

"That sounds lovely, darling. I don't know if I'll have time to make it, though. I'm a very busy robot, you see," said Mettaton, picking a spot off his glove.

"Oh, yes, of course," Papyrus agreed. "You do an awful lot."

"M-hm, yes." Mettaton brushed off his pants and leaned forward again, resting his chin on his hands. "So. You said earlier you think I'm handsome."

Papyrus raised a hand to his mouth to bite down on it, but then he remembered where he was and instead scratched his skull. "Yes…"

"Am I just aesthetically pleasing, or am I someone you'd like to date? I'm teasing, darling, I'm teasing!" Mettaton added, laughing, as Papyrus turned orange. "But really, what kind of people are you into? I'm personally into tall, blond, eyes like the ocean—strong and handsome—y-you know?" His voice wavered as he realized he was describing Devon. He cleared his throat and willed the image out of his mind. "Though… you're not bad-looking, yourself."

Papyrus blushed. "Thank you. I shine my skull and brush my teeth every day! And of course I take a run every morning to keep fit, and eat healthy, and take lots of showers. It's really no wonder that my hard work would pay off in good looks," he boasted as he puffed out his chest. Then he deflated slightly as he realized he was babbling again. "Of course, it's still nothing on you."

But Mettaton was smiling. Boasting, talkative Papyrus seemed to be what everyone else was used to, and the robot was glad to experience it, even for a second. He shook his head. "You look fine regardless of who you're comparing yourself to. Don't short-sell yourself."

"Oh, o-okay." Papyrus tapped his foot and looked away. Why did he feel so nervous? Mettaton was being nice to him. "Oh! You—you asked—what's my type—?" The skeleton racked his brains, but he was coming up short. He'd never really genuinely liked many people in that way, and the few people he had liked only had one common characteristic. "Um… I guess… male?"

Wowie, Papyrus, that's probably the stupidest answer you've ever given someone, the skeleton thought as soon as he'd said it.

But Mettaton just laughed—an actual, genuine, out-loud laugh that wasn't glamorous at all. He clapped his hands over his mouth. "Oh, goodness! I'm sorry, Papyrus, I didn't mean to subject you to that awful snorting… but that's funny. I prefer men, too."

"Oh, really?" Papyrus brightened. In the Underground, liking other men had never really been an issue, but up on the surface things were tricky. Humans were far more accepting of same-gender relationships than they used to be, but you could never be sure who was supportive and who wasn't, and Papyrus often just kept his sexuality on the down-low for safety. Knowing that his favorite celebrity was also gay was helping him feel a little better about it, though.

"Really." Mettaton beamed. "Not that women aren't beautiful in their own way—I just don't want to date them."

Papyrus nodded. Then he looked past Mettaton into the backyard, then slowly into his eyes. "I think your laugh is beautiful."

Mettaton blushed this time. "Thank you, but you don't have to lie. It's an awful snorting mess, I know."

Papyrus smiled. "A certain someone was just telling me earlier that they thought a person was most beautiful when they were being their true self."

"I guess I did say that, didn't I?" Mettaton brushed his hair back. "Still…"

Papyrus shook his head. "It's a wonderful laugh. I should like to hear it more often."

Mettaton saw nothing but sincerity in Papyrus's face. He wondered how the skeleton could be so shy and reticent about himself in front of the robot, but so bold and honest when it came to complimenting him.

He smiled. "Thank you, darling."

At that moment, the sliding glass door opened, and Undyne stuck her head out. "What are you guys doing out here?"

"Conversing," Mettaton said, as Papyrus replied, "Just talking," at the same instant.

Undyne blinked slowly and sighed. "Did you finish with the grill, Pap?"

"Of course I did," Papyrus said almost defensively. "I wouldn't loaf around if the job wasn't done."

Undyne stepped out to open the grill and check Papyrus's work. The skeleton huffed slightly. "I did fine. You don't have to make sure I did it right, I am not a small child."

"Uh—okay, dude." Undyne closed the grill and gave Papyrus an odd look. "Well, you two should get your butts back in there. Asgore's making tea, we're gonna relax for a little bit, and then we're all gonna get going. And don't forget, you and me? Sparring practice tomorrow," she added, clapping a hand on Papyrus's skull as she walked by.

"I could never forget. We've done it every Sunday for the past year," said Papyrus as she slammed the door closed.

"You know, I've kind of wondered since last week," Mettaton mused. "How did you get to be friends with Undyne? She seems very fond of you."

"Oh, she was the Captain of the Royal Guard for years," Papyrus explained. "I trained under her until we left the Underground. Interestingly, most of our lessons actually involved cooking, at least toward the end." A strange look came over his face. "That's—that's kind of odd, isn't it? I never did see the other Guards cooking on the job..."

Mettaton had to agree; he didn't know much about the Guard, but cooking didn't sound at all like something the members would do. He wondered what had motivated Undyne to teach Papyrus so much cooking—especially since she seemed to be a poor teacher in that regard. "Did you ever make the Guard?"

Papyrus shook his head sadly. "No. Every time I asked if I would be inducted soon, she said I needed more experience as a sentry, or more cooking lessons. And then the Guard disbanded when we got up here." He brightened. "But Undyne makes sure I keep up my fighting skills! Do you like sparring?"

Mettaton chuckled. "Can't say I do, honey. It would get in the way of everything else I do, and besides, it takes up an awful lot of battery power. But," he said, standing up and stretching, "don't underestimate me. I'm more than capable of kicking butt in a fight if I need to."

Papyrus very much looked as though he'd like to watch Mettaton kick somebody's butt. "I bet! You're good at everything."

Mettaton shrugged. "I do my best," he replied, his modesty mostly false, but a tiny part of him was really telling the truth. His best was really the only thing he could do, after all.

Undyne poked her head out the door again. "Hey, lovebirds. Get in here already."

"We are not lovebirds," Mettaton snapped hotly, so much so that Papyrus felt a little bad.

"Whatever, buttface, I'm kidding. Everyone's waiting." Undyne left the door open for them.

Mettaton looked toward Papyrus, who still sat in his deck chair. "Well?"

Papyrus tried to get up quickly, then fell back with a cry of pain. He put a hand to his spine near the base.

"Are you alright?" Mettaton reached his hands out to Papyrus, genuinely worried.

"I'm—I'm fine. I think I just—got up too fast and twisted my spine a bit," Papyrus lied. Well, partially lied. He'd definitely gotten up too fast after sitting for a while, but he hadn't twisted his spine—he'd aggravated some of the fractures in it. But he wasn't going to explain to his favorite celebrity that he had such ugly imperfections all over him.

Mettaton still held a hand out, and after some deliberation, Papyrus slowly took it, standing up much more carefully this time. He straightened completely, despite the pressure it put on his lower vertebrae.

"Thanks," he said quietly, embarrassed about the episode.

"You sure everything is alright?"

"Yes, I—I'm fine. I don't need any more help, thank you." Papyrus quickly got past Mettaton and stopped in front of the doorway. He gestured to let the robot go first.

"Thanks, darling," said Mettaton, giving Papyrus one last puzzled and concerned look as he passed him.

Inside, everyone had assembled in the living room with their cups of tea. Asgore passed a couple more mugs, still steaming hot, to Papyrus and Mettaton. Mettaton sat down to converse with the others, as Papyrus stood stiffly next to the couch, hoping nobody would notice his discomfort.

Sans noticed.

The rest of the evening passed, the monsters conversing and laughing with each other gaily until nearly eight o'clock. Then hugs were given and goodbyes said.

Papyrus blushed for about the sixth time that night when Mettaton waved at him as he left. He was still a bit orange in the face as he got into his car with Sans.

Sans didn't waste any time. "Did you hurt yourself again?"

Papyrus sighed. "I'm fine."

"That doesn't answer my question."

Papyrus put the car into reverse. "I sat down for a while as I was talking to Mettaton and then I got up too fast. I probably just strained my spine a bit."

Sans shook his head. "You have to be more careful."

"Brother, I am fine. I'll just take some medicine when I get home." Papyrus backed out the driveway, switched gears, and began driving home.

"Didn't you take some before we left?"

Papyrus was so startled that he almost hit the brakes. "What makes you think that?"

"You were in the bathroom and I saw you swallow something." Sans raised a browbone. "I know I'm not imagining things."

"I—I—alright, I took something earlier. But it was just a multivitamin."

"You take those at breakfast. And I didn't realize we kept multivitamins in the bathroom cabinet."

"Oh—mind your own business, Sans! I haven't had any pain medication today. And I'm going to take some when we get home." Papyrus figured at this rate, he'd need it by the time they got home. He hated lying to Sans; it made him feel horrendously anxious and dirty. But the medication always made him feel calm and light, like he didn't have a care in the world.

Sans sighed. "Alright, Papyrus. I'm just trying to take care of my baby bro."

"I'm not a baby, Sans," snapped Papyrus angrily. "Just let me be."

Sans said nothing, his face blank for the rest of the short ride home.

As soon as he got inside, Papyrus rushed to the upstairs bathroom and swallowed four pills, sitting back against the wall and willing himself not to throw them back up.

He knew that he'd really hurt Sans, even if his brother kept his feelings deeply hidden. "Baby bro" was usually nothing more than just an affectionate nickname, as far as Papyrus knew; Sans didn't really see him as a baby.

But during times like these, when Papyrus was just trying to live his life only for others to impede him, the nickname hurt, and he just had been in too much pain and panic to hide it this time.

Don't think about Sans, he told himself. Think about Mettaton. He was so nice today.

Mettaton…

What a robot. What a fantastic guy. Papyrus could tell the pills were already working; his thoughts were becoming happy and dreamy. Mettaton… Mettaton had been so nice to him—and after he'd asked that stupid, invasive question too. Papyrus replayed the conversation he'd had with Mettaton in his mind. Every look Mettaton had given him, every tilt of his head, every time he had shown genuine interest in who Papyrus was—it was all locked into the skeleton's mind.

Papyrus made his way to his room and collapsed on his bed, picking up his teddy bear and hugging it, grinning and even giggling uncontrollably.

He'd only dreamed of getting to see Mettaton in person, and now he'd met the robot twice—even better, Mettaton was part of the family. Never in his life had he dared to imagine that, or that Mettaton would be such a wonderful person to talk to.

Sure, Papyrus had said some stupid things, but Mettaton had just laughed and carried on as if things were normal. As if Papyrus were normal.

None of his friends had ever done that before.

Papyrus settled back against his pillows and grinned.

For once, he actually felt good about himself.

oooooooooo

A/N: yayyyyyyyyy a new chapter, finally!

I had a LOT of writer's block trying to get this done. I think college is burning me out.

well, winter break is coming.

hope you enjoyed the boys having an awkward conversation! next chapter... will not be a very happy chapter.