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Who: Mettaton and Papyrus
When: May 19th? Such backdate. Wow.
Where: Medbay
What: Mettaton getting a visit from the sweetest skeleton ever. :>
Warnings: Possible description of MTT's illness, that's about it.

It was nice that Mettaton had been helped to the medbay in his time of need. It wasn't as if he was easy to carry around when he was malfunctioning, so he was appreciative. He was!!

But...being stuck in a bed and unable to move while you were diagnosed and properly maintenanced was aggravating, especially to a guy like him, who ran full tilt as often as possible, with exception for charge times. What was even more aggravating was knowing that he'd picked up this "sickness" while cavorting about in a lovely landscape. Just goes to show him, right? Even Mettaton could get sick.

Funny, since before he'd been pitying Frisk after they were bedridden by their poison pie encounter and thinking he'd never have to feel that because he didn't have organic parts. Apparently one's SOUL counted as an organic part.

Now here he was, regaining his faculties slowly after the disgusting little creatures nesting on his soul had been removed. The heart-shape set into his abdomen was starting to regain its usual color at this point, but it was still dim and flickery from time to time, which caused him to be tired without real cause.

Oh well. At least like this he has time to catch up on the gossip via the MIDs, right? So that's what he's did.

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Famous or not, Mettaton was flamboyant and noticeable enough to be worthy of gossip on the ship from time to time. Papyrus had seem him when he was a little under the weather, but he hadn't seemed so bad. Which is why, when he found out about his condition and procedure not long after, he was deeply concerned and upset. His very good cool popular friend, in need, and he was nowhere to be seen! It was shameful!

Luckily, it only took about fifteen minutes to whip up a batch of his famous spaghetti, and most of that was spent punching ingredients and putting out fires. Exactly sixteen minutes after getting the news he burst into medbay, wielding a heaping plate of spaghetti and looking on the verge of tears!

"Mettaton! I only just heard! Are you okay?? I had no idea robots could get sick! That seems like the opposite of what robots do!"

If Mettaton knew just how quickly Papyrus had gotten there, he might be tempted to ask if the skeleton operated as a source of energy, because he could sure use some.

That being said, there's something comforting about having someone show up to visit you while you aren't able to move much, and although he's initially surprised at the racket, he can't help but smile at the fact that Papyrus had thought to pass by. With an offering of spaghetti and heartfelt concern, no less! He presses himself to emote a little more than he's been for the past few days.

"I'll be fine, dear!" he assures the tall skeleton. It's obvious that he's tired, because his voice isn't quite as peppy as usual. "I just have to stay here for a few days. And I assure you, I had no idea robots could get sick either. It's terribly inconvenient."

He considered complaining about the matter further, but decided there was absolutely no point, especially not when he was being visited by, well...Papyrus. Mettaton wasn't sure how, but somehow he felt a little better about his situation now that he had this particular visitor.

"Have a seat, darling," he offered, scooting over and drawing his legs in slowly so as to give Papyrus a spot on his bed. Enthusiasm should be rewarded, right? Sit with the star! ~~Please. He insists. You're cute.~~

"Really? Wowie!" Papyrus had very healthy self-esteem, and his belief in himself was matched only in his belief in the potential greatness in others. Still... there was something thrilling in being invited to have a cool hangout with the Mettaton. He'd been here more than a month and the feeling still hadn't worn off.

He brushes down first his uniform and then the spot on the bed, making sure both are tidy before he sits. He doesn't want to make anyone sicker, after all!

After a moment he holds out the plate to Mettaton, looking almost shy for once.

"H-here! When I heard you were sick, I made this for you! There's nothing like a homecooked meal to get you back on your feet again, right? That's what Sans always says!"

Mettaton sorely wishes that he could actually eat the spaghetti. Despite that, being a robot doesn't rob him of manners.

"You're so sweet," he practically hums, taking the plate and sitting it on his lap. "I am sorry that I can't taste it but it's perfectly lovely, and thoughtful. Thank you very much, Papyrus."

The shy look isn't lost on him. However, whereas he might usually flirt to draw more of a response, this time he's the proper mixture of worn out and...well, he's not shy. Mettaton doesn't do shy. But he does feel a peculiar satisfaction being doted on at this moment.

"So, ah. I hope that I haven't distracted you from your very important duties on the ship," he says airily. That sounded cold, he thinks to himself, and so immediately he amends, "Not that I don't want you here! Far from it."

"Oh! Oh no, not at all!" Papyrus was quick to wave the suggestion away. "After all, my job on the ship includes making sure everyone's happy, right? So, in a way, this is my duty!"

A slightly flustered pause, then he continues.

"Not that I wouldn't have come anyway! I always have time for my friends!"

Mettaton's always been brimming with self-esteem and an unhealthy amount of narcissism. So naturally he would agree that Papyrus was exactly where he needed to be. But at the same time, having the skeleton imply that he was worth making happy?

It gets him. It really gets him and he hates it just as much as he loves it. On the one hand YES. He is Mettaton, shower him with praise and love!! On the other, oh my god he really finds it attractive and he wants to show it! If he could blush, he'd definitely be doing so at this point, so it was a little merciful knowing that he couldn't.

"You haven't even known me personally for that long and yet you would treat me so well? I'm truly flattered," he finally says, and there's no pretense. No showy enthusiasm. Mettaton is being ridiculously sincere.

"Of course I would! I try to treat everybody as the very great people I know they can be! And, well..." He grins, not quite as lucky as Mettaton. He is definitely capable of blushing, somehow, and there's a pinkish cast on his cheekbones already. "Back home, I watched all of your shows, everything from your cool debut concert to your MTT-brand fashion tips. And you always struck me as a very helpful, nice person. You did so much to keep everyone in the Underground happy and well-dressed and singing, and you've been really cool here, too! It... it's been really nice, having you here on the Moira!"

Ugh. Just compliment him some more why don't you?! Mettaton can't blush, but he feels as if he may as well be overheating from all this...this niceness!!! Never mind that he just finds it so damned adorable that Papyrus is not just paying him compliments, but doing it while he's flustered!

"I...truly appreciate what you are saying, honey. It would be a lie to say that my time on the Moira was picturesque, but you certainly do make it much better. I'm happy that you are around, and that I've gotten to know you!"

Although his limbs have felt leaden and uncooperative, Mettaton still manages to reach one hand out, taking hold of one of the skeleton's, while minding he doesn't topple his plate of spaghetti. He wants comfort, and he always endeavours to give himself what he wants.

"You are a nice and helpful person," he says, and there's more conviction in it than in anything else he's told Papyrus. "You are even more helpful and kind than I could ever be."

For a moment Papyrus's fingers twitch like he might pull them away -- a lingering moment of fear from the last time he started crushing on someone here on the ship -- but he quickly remembers Mettaton's nothing like Palatino. Honestly, now that he's thinking about it, if Palatino could have a polar opposite, this chatty, happy robot with the sweet soul of a true monster might be it.

"Nyeh-heh-heh, wel!" For once in his life, Papyrus struggles to come up with something to say. He's so rarely at a loss, and the floundering feels weird and a little exciting. His fingers tighten around Mettaton's. "I try my very best to be my very best every day!"

Talking about himself is always on the table, though.

Just that one reciprocated action is enough for Mettaton, and he smiles brightly. He has no earthly idea what Papyrus is thinking or any hesitations he might have, so he takes advantage of this positive situation and carries on with his compliments because it's so damn easy to do.

"You're terribly good at it," he says encouragingly. It's incredibly satisfying to have someone besides himself be so self-assured. He wants to encourage that! "It's inspiring. And very ah..haha, very endearing!"

He almost said attractive. Mmm, maybe he better not, haha...ha. What is this feeling? Get some filter, Mettaton!

"Mettaton! Wowie..." No doubt about it. He'd read books on the subject and been on a date with a dragon and also had fallen in love once, so he was qualified to know. This was flirting! The Mettaton, flirting with him. How about that?

Actually, he suddenly didn't know. His expression went from practically glowing to suddenly a little unsure. Was this right? He liked Mettaton, he was his truest fan forever, but after the incident with Palatino, he found himself a little nervous.

Realizing he probably looked a little funny, Papyrus quickly grinned again. "I'm... happy to hear that! Imagine me, the great Papyrus, inspirational to the great Mettaton!"

Mettaton wouldn't be great at taking the stage and leading an audience if he couldn't tell that something was off. And for once, he wasn't interested in pursuing his goals to the point where it would sacrifice the feelings of another. It's progress on the path of becoming a better person, right?

"You really are an inspiration," he says, this time a bit more reservedly, "but it seems that you are also uncomfortable, darling. Is it the praise? I would have thought you'd like it."

Maybe he was pushing his luck though. He blames the state he's in.

"It's not that! Being praised is always a nice thing, and you're very good at it!" And he means that too, all of it, from the bottom of his heart. "It's just, well, you see..." He glances down at their hands and squeezes. "Before you came here, there was somebody I liked. He was a skeleton too, and I thought he felt the same about me? But it turns out he was actually an angry creature with a very hurt soul. He didn't really... like having cool hangouts with me, it turned out. And Sans said there was nothing we could do to help him. A lot of people said that, actually."

He didn't really like telling the story, especially to this particular audience, but it felt like the right thing to do. Honesty was important, the books said so.

Mettaton was still and quiet as Papyrus told him the story. It's what he'd wanted to hear since Sans had mentioned as much, but actually hearing it be explained, especially by such a good person, made him feel unsure at first.

His fingers twitch this time, and it's not because he wants to pull away from Papyrus. It's not because he wants to stop holding hands with him. He's just angry. Because he knows that Papyrus perceives the world in a way no one else can, with a layer of optimism and trust that not even Mettaton had. He'd seen it on Del Pascia and it had made him angry.

He sees it here and his first reaction is to move the plate of spaghetti on his lap onto a small table next to him, then with real effort, he pushes himself away from the bed while tugging gently at the skeleton's arm to draw him closer.

Papyrus sounds like he needs a hug. Mettaton is good at those. Of course, he leaves some leeway; there was no show of force here, and even if he wanted, he isn't in the state for it.

"I'm sorry that happened, darling. I wish you could have been happy instead of disappointed."

Papyrus scooted closer as he was tugged. Thinking about Palatino still made him a little sad -- he'd grown fond of the other skeleton, and he had been so sure that even after everyone's warnings, with enough time he'd come around and be a great person, too.

"I do too. I mean, he's a skeleton monster, sealed away alone by people on the ship. For everyone's safety, of course, but... I thought we had so much in common! I thought maybe if we spent time together, he could learn to be nicer and they'd let him out. Even the great Papyrus miscalculates now and then!"

The obvious concern and care from Mettaton was... nice. He felt a little better for it. Even telling this sad story wasn't so hard anymore, somehow.

Both of Mettaton's arms soon wrap around the skeleton, though they dip a little low--he's still not entirely recovered and doesn't want to impose his weight on Papyrus by hugging him around the shoulders. But it's just really sad and he feels a very strong need to make it better.

"Darling, everyone is allowed to make mistakes. If we were all completely perfect, then we would never have the chance to gain true wisdom from experience," he says. It sounds like some corny line off a wrapper, or an old-timey movie. But Mettaton's made his own mistakes and therefore sympathizes closely. He means what he says.

"Papyrus," he begins, but for once, he's unable to find his words. Of all the times. Then again, what else could he say? How dare that creature disappoint you? Or Is he gone? He deserves to be thrust into space for causing you any kind of pain! How invested was he in this? Invested enough, for sure. He'd already come to that decision, and yet here he was second-guessing his own motives time and again.

Mettaton exhales softly, a quiet sigh, and he finally speaks, amending all of his rash thoughts into a simple sentence. "You are so kind. Not all are deserving of your good heart."

Edited 2016-06-25 06:29 (UTC)

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