-One Month Later-

"Vocal systems?" Alphys asked.

"Smooth as silk, darling," Mettaton answered, the speaker rumbling pleasantly in the back of his throat. His voice echoed within his metal skull, which was a sensation he'd have to get used to.

He heard her pen scratch against her clipboard, in time with the Mew Mew Kissy Cutie score playing in the background. This universe's Alphys preferred the first season, strangely. She had been aghast to find out that in his universe, she had been a full-blown MMKC2 stan.

"Audio?"

He snorted. "I would hardly be able to answer you if that weren't working."

"Is it working perfectly, though? No ringing, or buzzing, or—"

"Yes, yes, it's perfect."

He did his best not to squirm where he sat on her workbench. While he could access the robot body's systems, he hadn't fully fused with it, and he didn't want to mess anything up. He still felt a bit like a child wearing an adult's clothing, with how this new body dwarfed his ghostly form.

That shouldn't be a problem once he fused, but this universe's Mettaton and Mew Mew had explained how tricky that process could be—though Mettaton EX insisted that Mettaton NEO (as they went by when around each other, to avoid confusion) shouldn't have too many problems.

("After all, darling, you're moi. Once you feel the stage lights on your metallic skin, it'll come naturally."

Neo didn't tell him that his dream wasn't in the spotlight. He was just grateful for his alternate self's support.)

"What about visuals?" Alphys asked.

Mettaton's face heated—how had Alphys managed to program that?—and he bit his lip. He didn't open his eye.

"Ah. This may sound, um, silly, but…"

"I-it's not silly! If there's any problems, you n-need to tell me, so I can fix it. Is it your eyelid? Is your lacrimal duct secreting enough oil?"

"No, no, it's none of that," he said quickly. "I just—I wanted… Papyrus to be here."

Perhaps he was a hopeless romantic, but he wanted his boyfriend to be the first thing he saw when he opened his eye.

"Awwwwwwwwww," Alphys cooed, and his shoulders raised defensively. "That's so s-sweet! Let me text him…"

Mettaton had stayed at Papyrus's house for his first week here, which had been wonderful, but also a little intimidating. Papyrus was always going, going, going, and Mettaton was… well, he wasn't quite ready for that much excitement, yet.

Now he was living with Alphys while she worked on the NEO body. She enjoyed having a roommate again, and Mettaton enjoyed absorbing her knowledge about this world's culture. Her enthusiasm for storytelling was contagious, even if she had a bad habit of spoiling the endings by accident.

"METTATON!"

He heard glass shatter as Papyrus crashed through Alphys's automatic doors. How had he gotten here so quickly?

"'Sup, Al," Sans said, his voice nearly lost as Papyrus crunched over the broken glass.

"Mettaton! You look amazing! How do you feel? Is it all finished—?"

"You're going to debut here?" EX's heavy boots echoed on the tile, making Neo startle. "Honestly, Neo. There's not even a camera in sight! How will anyone believe you 'kin' me if you don't even broadcast this moment on live television?"

Neo grimaced. He appreciated EX, he really did, but he'd hoped this would be a more private affair.

"M-mettaton—er, EX—you didn't tell me you were coming!" Alphys hissed under her breath.

"Your door was open." He sounded smug.

"Only because Papyrus—ugh, whatever." Alphys sighed. "Just be p-polite, okay?'

"Alphys-darling, I'm always polite. Why, I even offered Neo a spot as a backup dancer in my next show—though I may have to rescind that. Being upstaged at my own performance would be mortifying." The pout was audible in his voice. "Did you have to give him wings?"

"Do you want wings?" Alphys asked in return.

Papyrus took Neo's hand, distracting him from their conversation. The touch sensors were incredibly sensitive, especially considering he hadn't even fused yet. Angel, it was wonderful to be able to feel him again.

"Don't worry about all that," Papyrus said, in a voice that was quiet by his standards. "This is your big moment! You can enjoy it in whatever way you want."

Mettaton still didn't open his eyes. He wanted to see his beloved's face, surely full of affection and warmth. But he wanted a moment to collect himself, first. It wouldn't do to overload his artificial tear duct so quickly.

"I don't want to be a backup dancer," he admitted in a whisper. "I didn't want to disappoint EX by turning down his offer, but… I'd rather work behind the scenes, honestly."

"Oh?" Papyrus blinked audibly. It sounded like a soft twinkle. "What do you have in mind?"

His motor whirred faster as he excitedly told his boyfriend of his plans.

"Visual design or story direction. Sets, costumes, scripts, even promotional artwork would be lovely." He smiled. "EX has stage presence in spades. I don't have any desire to compete with that. But, with all due respect, his plots could use some work. I mean, three hours of rose petals raining on his reclining body? Really?"

"It was four hours, actually," Papyrus corrected.

"Precisely."

Neo couldn't blame him too much. It must be wonderful to be adored so wholeheartedly, and to feel so confident in your own skin. But it still made for a rather lackluster story. "Tettamon" and "Surypap" would be far more interesting to watch. As long as Papyrus wasn't playing the costarring role with EX, of course…

Neo shook his head. He was being silly. Papyrus might still be a fan of EX—and who wouldn't be?—but Neo was his beloved. Nothing would change that.

"Well! If that is your heart's desire, I will be there to support you every step of the way!" Papyrus lifted Mettaton's hand, pressing a bony kiss to his knuckles.

"Thank you, darling." His face warmed.

He took a deep breath and felt fresh air enter his metallic lungs. Breathed out, and let the carbonic exhaust escape. The sounds around him felt sharper than usual, clearer, thanks to Alphys's handiwork. Sans was distracting EX and Alphys, allowing Neo and Papyrus their space. It was as private of a moment as they would get.

Mettaton Neo opened his eye.

The bright lights of Alphys's lab flooded his vision. But what was even brighter was Papyrus, smiling in front of him.

"Hello, beautiful," Papyrus said quietly.

Mettaton let out a breathy laugh.

"I believe that's my line."

"Not until you trademark it," Papyrus replied cheekily. "NEO-Brand Greetings Of Affection. You could put it on a card."

Papyrus set a hand on his cold metal cheek. The texture felt slightly different than when they'd been in the Dark World together. This body was a near-perfect imitation, but he found the small variations thrilling. It made every touch feel new. Real.

He reached a hand of his own up to hold Papyrus's, but found his motion a little more uncoordinated than he'd anticipated. His arm jerked too far to the right.

Right into the side of Sans's skull.

"Hey, uh." Sans laughed. "I appreciate the high-five attempt, but—"

"Hang on," Neo's hand wobbled, before he finally got it where he intended it to go. "Just getting a feel for the role, as it were."

"I remember my first time in my body," EX hummed contemplatively. "Just wait until you attempt to use your legs. Of course, I was a natural dancer from the start—"

Alphys snorted. "Mettaton? EX?"

"Yes, Alphys-darling?"

"Sh-shut up."

"Rude," he scoffed.

"Would you like some help standing?" Papyrus asked Neo. He had his full attention, despite the interruptions.

"In a moment." Neo swallowed, gaze darting to Papyrus's mouth. "There's something else I'd like to test, first. If that's alright with you, darling."

Papyrus caught his drift quickly. His grin widened, his thumb brushing the corner of Mettaton's lips.

"As long as you're alright with an audience." He tilted his head towards his brother and friends.

EX had pulled a camera from somewhere. Alphys was trying to wrestle it from his hands. Sans was leaning against the bench, crunching on a bag of chisps. His back was to them, at least.

"I believe I can handle it." Mettaton smiled.

Everyone knew how much he loved Papyrus. It was hardly something he was embarrassed of. Even if he would've appreciated a more romantic atmosphere, he'd waited long enough already.

He was going to kiss his boyfriend, dang it, no matter who might be watching.

With more force than he intended, he gripped the front of Papyrus's shirt, and pulled him to meet his lips.

It didn't matter that neither of them knew how to kiss. It didn't matter that the meeting of bony teeth and silicone-filled lips was messy and awkward, and even a little bit painful. It didn't even matter that EX wolfwhistled in the background.

Mettaton had never felt more alive.

Awareness spread through him, from head to toe. Sensations, feelings, deeper than the surface-level pressure and temperature sensors Alphys had programmed into this body, attuned to the frequency of his ectoplasm. It was as if he'd grown into his skin—no, as if he'd always been a part of it, it a part of him, no distinction between spirit and body. Just him.

Mettaton, Neo.

He kissed Papyrus, and he was home.