Chapter Text
"SO, SANS, ARE YOU COMING OR NOT?"
Papyrus's voice pulled Sans out of his daze. He shook his head clear of the daydreams he was just having. What did he tell Papyrus about talking to him when he was sleeping? He glanced around his and Papyrus's living room. His brother was accompanied by Undyne, Alphys and Frisk.
"Huh? Oh yeah." Sans yawned, "Coming to what, again?"
"Mettaton's concert, bonehead! Weren't you listening?" Undyne loomed over the short skeleton, who was still sitting on the couch half-asleep.
"So the robot's throwing a concert. He always does that. What makes this one special?" Sans didn't mean for that to come out so rude.
But it was true, Mettaton was always having concerts with his cousin and Shyren.
"HE GAVE ME FREE TICKETS TO SHARE AND I AM CHOOSING TO SHARE THEM WITH YOU, UNDYNE, ALPHYS AND FRISK." Papyrus gestured to each person with great enthusiasm as he said their name.
"Hold on, you're telling me Mettaton gave you something for free? This is the Mettaton we know you're talking about, right?" Sans put his hands up to emphasize his point.
"ISN'T IT OBVIOUS, BROTHER? THE POOR ROBOT HAS FALLEN FOR THE GREAT PAPYRUS'S CHARMS AND HAS OFFERED ME A GIFT TO WIN OVER MY HEART," Papyrus fished out the tickets and offered one to Sans.
Sans's pupils darted from the pink, sparkly ticket to his brother's hopeful face. Sans reluctantly nabbed the ticket and shoved it into his jacket pocket.
"Okay, I'll go." Sans slid off the couch.
"HOORAY! NOW, LET US PROCEED POSTHASTE! THE GREAT PAPYRUS CANNOT BE LATE!" Papyrus led the way out their front door.
Sans appeared to be in a good mood. That could be attributed to his permanent smile. Behind the grin, however, was a sour attitude. He trusted Mettaton as much as a mouse trusted a snake. He didn't hate the robot by any means, but he did not want Mettaton getting too close to his brother. Mettaton was too... lewd for Papyrus. Papyrus was not a child and could be friends with whomever he pleased, but Sans knew the pop star would take advantage of his brother's kindness.
Sans was shaken away from his thoughts when a tiny hand grabbed onto his elbow.
"Yeah, kid?" Sans put on his best "I'm fine" voice and gazed down at the child. Frisk looked at the skeleton for a moment and smiled. Frisk patted Sans's shoulder and pointed at Papyrus. The taller skeleton was chatting excitedly with Undyne about the concert. He seemed to really be looking forward to this. Perhaps Sans could tone down the Metta-hate for the time being. He noticed that Undyne seemed less enthused. That was probably because Alphys looked nervous- more nervous than usual. When asked about it, she responded with, "I'm worried about Mettaton," and nothing else. Sans had a sneaking suspicion that something wasn't quite right with their lovely robot friend.
Papyrus was more than overjoyed to discover that their tickets were for the front row. "That is out of character," Sans thought apprehensively. He and Frisk shared uncertain glances.
"OH BOY! AREN'T WE THE LUCKY ONES! YOU CAN THANK THE GREAT PAPYRUS FOR SCORING YOU ALL SUCH LOVELY SEATS. HAD I FLEXED A BIT MORE WHEN SPEAKING WITH HIM, WE MIGHT EVEN HAVE RECEIVED TICKETS TO BE ONSTAGE! NYEH HEH HEH!" Papyrus struck a heroic pose.
"H-he really s-seems to like you, Papyrus," Alphys mentioned, but she didn't feel like telling Papyrus there was no such ticket.
"WAS THERE EVER A DOUBT? I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS AFTER ALL," he beamed.
---
During the span of the concert Sans watched the robot intensely, looking for something wrong with him. Alphys appeared to be doing the same thing, only she was jotting down notes somehow. Sans didn't see or hear anything out of the ordinary. His metallic voice was just as smooth and sensual as ever. It drifted soothingly through Sans's nonexistent ears. Mettaton's dancing was also rather pleasing to the eye. There was no twitch or spark to be seen. Maybe Mettaton was being a decent guy and there wasn't anything wrong with him.
After the show, the group lingered about and waited to visit their friend backstage. They were informed by a strong-looking security guard that they could all come see the star himself. Mettaton was sitting at a table signing random objects that his fans provided him with. The line of fans had disappeared by the time they were allowed to greet him.
"Oh! Darlings, it is so lovely to see you all again!" Mettaton waved at them and turned away from his signing table. He stood up and sauntered over to his friends,
"Did you enjoy the show?"
Papyrus, Alphys and Undyne congratulated him on the lovely performance in varying volumes. Frisk was silent, like they tended to be, but they offered a cheerful thumbs up. Sans offered his usual grin and even added a nod. Mettaton was delighted to hear the news,
"Of course it was good. It had me in it."
"Why exactly did you give us front row tickets for free?" Undyne decided it was time to get right down to the point.
"Because, dear, I want only the best for my friends," Mettaton batted his visible eyelashes at her, "Are you saying that I cannot be humble once in a while?"
"Yes," Undyne grinned.
"Mettaton, h-how are you feeling?" Alphys was looking over the robot's EX form closely.
"Peachy as ever, Alphys," he flashed a blinding smirk her way. "Now, I don't mean to cut your precious time with me so short, but I must carry all of these lovely gifts back to my dressing room, clean up," he sighed, trailing off, "you understand, don't you?"
Alphys looked apprehensive to leave, but she figured if there was something wrong Mettaton will come see her first. She and Undyne said their goodbyes and left the building.
"I see that you three are too devastated that you can't spend more time with me to leave," Mettaton seemed to be staring right at Sans, but he could be looking at Frisk. He hoped.
"If that's the case, could you help me carry this to my dressing room?" The robot gestured to the piles of goodies his fans had given him. Papyrus agreed fervently and dashed over to the table. Frisk looked up at Sans and tugged on his jacket as they followed Papyrus. Sans eyed Mettaton as he walked past him. The robot gave him a smile. Sans felt a chill go down his spine.
Mettaton showed them the way to his dressing room and allowed them inside. It was a rather elegant dressing room for someone that didn't change clothes. Mettaton and Papyrus organized the gifts by type at Papyrus's suggestion. Sans and Frisk stood back and watched in silence. Papyrus talked about his extraordinary ability to organize things the entire time. Mettaton listened without interrupting. Sans appreciated that politeness but he didn't like how often Mettaton slid his hand over his brother's on "accident."
"My, my! I am impressed. You certainly do have a talent for being organized," Mettaton looked over his neat assortment of gifts.
Papyrus's chest swelled with pride, "O-OF COURSE! I HAVE TO CLEAN UP AFTER SANS ALL THE TIME."
Sans chuckled. He cleaned up after himself, but not as much as Papyrus would prefer him to. Mettaton hummed in response.
"I can't thank you enough, dear," Mettaton gave Papyrus an earnest smile.
"YOU ARE MOST WELCOME!" Papyrus grinned back.
"Here!" Mettaton quickly snagged a white rose from his pile of flowers, "Take this one home with you as my thanks."
Papyrus's eyebrows shot up, "IS THIS A CONFESSION OF YOUR UNDYING LOVE FOR ME, THE GREAT PAPYRUS?"
Frisk snickered. They had been in Mettaton's position months ago. Sans felt his bones grow icy with tension. Mettaton, for once, had nothing to say.
Papyrus spoke for him, "ALAS! ANOTHER VICTIM TO MY AMAZING CHARMS! I-I'M FLATTERED."
Sans stepped between them and addressed Papyrus, "I think it's about time we went home. It's past Frisk's bedtime."
"AH, YES! TORIEL MUST BE QUITE WORRIED," Papyrus switched his attention to his brother momentarily. "YOU ARE WELCOME FOR MY SERVICES, METTATON. THIS IS MY NUMBER. CALL IT WHEN YOU NEED ORGANIZING... OR SPAGHETTI," Papyrus announced, handing the robostar a slip of paper.
Mettaton's bewildered expression quickly changed into a suave smirk, "Will do, darling."
Sans couldn't usher them out of the building fast enough. He was tempted to use a shortcut, but ultimately decided against it.
"WOW, SANS, YOU MUST REALLY CARE ABOUT FRISK BEING HOME ON TIME," Papyrus easily kept up with Sans's quick stride.
Frisk, with their small child legs, was having a bit more trouble keeping up.
Sans slowed down, "Yeah. Can't get Frisk in trouble, y'know."
"IF ONLY YOU CARED ABOUT BEING ON TIME MORE OFTEN," Papyrus chuckled.
Sans offered a weak laugh in response. He stared at his slippers as he continued to walk. He couldn't help but feel a weight in his stomach, not that he had a stomach. Maybe Mettaton was fine and there was something wrong with him.