"I have had it!" Mettaton kicked the door in front of him open, marching into the room. He was livid to say the least. His usual flare and elegance replaced with anger and irrationality. Fuck the press.
Sans shifted his chair away from his computer to face the pink wearing superstar, he wore his trademark smirk, "And what do I owe the honor of you being in my room?" His voice oozed sarcasm. He was generally getting real fed up with the superstar, for a number of reasons.
"I want a clear answer! Now!" Mettaton pointed at the shorter man in front of him.
"The sky is clear. Go ask it."
Mettaton gritted his teeth, "I'm not in the mood. I just want to know why you won't let Papy and I be together?!"
Sans' eyes narrow slightly. There was a number of reasons for that. Probably more than the number of jokes he could tell in a month.
He'd said almost all of them really; Mettaton just didn't know when to quit.
Which if Sans liked the guy he would possibly think of letting Mettaton be with Papyrus for that reason alone. But he didn't like him, a reason he'd never stated but was clear to pretty much everyone.
There was another reason though. Sans figured this was the time to say it.
"I don't know your intentions for my brother, Pal. How am I supposed to know you won't fuck him and drop him?" He cringed slightly at the words he used. Something about Papyrus and the word 'fuck' didn't sit lightly with him.
"If that was the case I wouldn't be doing this!"
Well that did make sense. Still Sans wasn't going to stop there. He wouldn't let this creep hurt his brother.
"Alright then, hypothetically speaking, if you went on a date with Pap what would you do with him? Where would you take him? How would you treat him? How would you end off the date?"
Mettaton looked a little shocked at the sudden interrogation, "I..uh.. Well…"
Sans waited patiently, an eyebrow raised.
"Well I suppose I'd take him to dinner and a movie, like a normal date. I-I'd treat him well. And I'd end the date in a very gentlemanly way, maybe just a simple kiss on the cheek."
Sans tilted his head the smirk fading, he was thinking. Mettaton stared at him with hope.
"Prove it."
The words shocked the superstar, he didn't know how to respond at first.
"I...uh...Wha?"
"I'm a man of science," Sans spoke, "So let's test this hypothesis."
"How exactly?" Mettaton's hands rested against the front side pockets of his short shorts, "I mean you won't let me go on one date with him."
"Simple. Just," he thought a moment, thinking of the best way to execute the experiment, "We'll go out on a date." He immediately grimaced at his words.
Mettaton stared at Sans, then started laughing.
"Aha! Thats -haha- your best -ha- joke yet, Comedian! -aha-"
"That wasn't a joke," his words made the superstars laughter cut short. "Look, I just want to make sure you ain't pulling wool over my eyes. I can't think of any other option. It's not like I like the idea. I can think of so many better ways to spend my time. But Pap likes ya. I don't want him hurt. This is the best way to go about this."
Mettaton crossed his arms, "Or you could just let your brother make his own decisions."
The sudden whited out right eye and glowing left blue eye stated that was out of question completely.
After letting out a dramatic sigh, "Fine," said Mettaton.
"All you gotta do is treat me how you'd treat, Pap. Make me feel woo'd or whatever. Do that and I might let you ask Pap out."
"Deal, I suppose. I'll pick you up at 7," Mettaton turned to leave, "Oh and do try to wear something nice, Darling. We will probably be seen by the press."
"I feel woo'd already," Sans smirked.
"Hmph, we haven't started the so called 'date' yet."
"Yeah whatever, wear something normal for a change. Remember I have to be seen with you," Sans turned back to face his computer.
Mettaton grumbled to himself, cursing himself for what he'd gotten himself into.
Ten to seven.
Sans sat at his computer hoping, no praying, that Frisk would reset. Something he never thought he'd want ever want.
He wasn't worried about the possibility that Mettaton had with Papyrus. Because there wasn't one. He wasn't going to let it happen; he was just doing this to get Mettaton to stop.
No. He just really didn't want to do this.
There he was in a semi-decent button up, dress shoes and jeans. Better to dress in way a way the superstar would approve than have him ranting later that he wasn't able to woo him because he did something wrong. That being said Sans was going to try to keep his puns, jokes and sarcasm to himself.
He pulled open the second drawer in his desk and pulled out a packet of ketchup, he split the top then placed it in his mouth, sucking out the contents. The acidicness of the tomato burning his tongue a little, not that he really minded. He tossed the empty packet to the trash bin. It missed. He'd get it later. Maybe.
He stood and grabbed his hoodie from the back of his chair. After pulling it on, he grabbed a few packets for the road. He'd need them.
It was times like this he'd wished he hadn't quit drinking. But that was something he did for Papyrus because it made him happy.
Hearing the sudden knock at the door, Sans put on his best fake smile before leaving his room.
They sat in the dimly lit Italian restaurant that Sans didn't remember the name of. They waited for their orders to arrive. Mettaton had said something about Papyrus loving it when they could go on their date.
A date that may actually happen at this rate. Sans was just waiting for Mettaton to screw something up. Even the slightest thing. That may not actually happen though because the superstar had seemed to have the entire evening planned out.
Mettaton had picked Sans up at seven on the dot. He was even wearing normal clothes. A pink button up with a black tie, white dress pants and white dress shoes. Mettaton gave a forced smile to Sans before escorting him to the limo he always travelled in since everyone came to the surface. Mettaton told the driver where to go then offered Sans a drink in which shorter man obviously declined. The rest of the commute was silent aside from a small conversation about Papyrus. During which time Sans consumed two ketchup packets.
They'd gone out to see a movie, something Mettaton had starred in but Sans couldn't recall the name of. Papyrus would have loved it. Sans consumed another three packets.
After the movie they repeated the same commute process. This time Mettaton just gave Sans a bottle of water, he'd noticed the excessive ketchup consumption. Sans drank very little of the water, instead choosing to finish last two packets of ketchup.
They'd had a table reserved and now here we are again.
The other patrons stared at them, something that really didn't phase either. It was expected, Mettaton was a huge celebrity. A few people even seemed to recognize Sans, mostly just other monsters, but some humans had whispered to each other about "the ambassador's" friend.
The waitress came by and stated that there was a mix up in their orders and that they would have to wait a little longer. She apologized, mostly to Mettaton, offering free drinks in return.
Mettaton asked for another daiquiri while Sans simply asked for a water. The waitress gave him a confused look for a moment.
"Are you sure, Darling? The nice woman is offering anything," Mettaton spoke, puzzled.
Sans really didn't want to break his promise to Papyrus, but he could really use a drink especially since he was out of ketchup. Ketchup. That was made with tomatoes. Eh it couldn't hurt could it?
"Yeah, I'm sure, but, uh, bring me some extra marinara with my order, and put in on the side. "
Mettaton smiled at the waitress, "Then that will be all then, Sweetie. Thank you."
The waitress grinned and nodded excitedly, "Right away, Mr. Mettaton." She went back to get the drinks.
"Are you okay?" Mettaton took a sip of his remaining drink, finishing it, "I don't want to be on this 'date' either but if it's the only way we could come to an impasse about Papy then it's necessary." He pushed his glass to the edge of the table.
"Yeah. 'M fine," Sans sat back in his chair, slouching a little.
"Stick to comedy. Acting looks awful on you, Dearie."
The sharpness off his words startled Sans a little, his hair falling in his face.
The waitress came back with their drinks. She sets them down, "Is there anything else you need?" She smiles at Mettaton.
Mettaton looks Sans, "Sans?"
"Nah."
Mettaton turns his attention to the waitress, "No thank you, Darling."
The waitress nods, lingering a moment before going to the next table.