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“Mettaton, are you sure you don’t want me to carry anything?”
“No, Papy, darling, I’ve got everything just fine.” Mettaton’s voice was slightly strained as he shifted all of the shopping bags he carried on both arms. “Really, love, let’s hit the next store. Get anything you want.”
“But what about what you want?”
“I go on shopping sprees all the time. This one is just for you.”
Papyrus sighed. “Alright. In that case, let’s go to this candle shop! We could use some fresh scents in the house!”
Mettaton followed Papyrus into the shop, a dreamy look in his eye. Watching his husband do things—anything, really—was one of his favorite pastimes. Quite often Papyrus would look over while brushing his teeth or doing the dishes or reading a book, and Mettaton would have his eyes on him like he was the only other person in the world.
Papyrus liked the attention, normally, but today he didn’t really notice much as he smelled every candle scent in the store. He stalled over a dark green one in particular. “What do you think of this one, starlight? It’s called ‘Balsam & Cedar.’ Quite strong, but still very pleasant, and perfect for the wintertime!”
Mettaton sighed happily. “Whatever you want, darling.”
Papyrus shifted the candle to the crook of his elbow. “I like this one. Now you pick something! Really, I insist!”
“Okay, okay.” Mettaton carefully dropped his bags to the floor and went to the floral section of the store, which he preferred. The second he saw a scent labeled “Sun-Drenched Apricot Rose,” he picked it up and took it in deeply. Wonderful, he thought to himself. “I’ll take this one,” he said, coming back to Papyrus.
“Ah, yes! Quite sweet, that one, and just what I would have picked for you! Now, really, Mettaton, if you’re going to get all those bags again, let me get your candle, at least. You’re really doing too much for me.”
“Nonsense, Papy. I have titanium muscles, I’m more than capable of handling all these.” Mettaton hefted the bags onto his arms again. “Let’s pay and move on.”
They did so—Mettaton taking the candle bag before Papyrus could protest—and walked down the street to find the next store.
The rest of the day proceeded as such, and when they got home, Mettaton dropped all the bags in the living room and flopped onto the couch, exhausted.
“I told you I could have carried some of those things,” Papyrus scolded him, sitting carefully beside him.
“You didn’t need to. I’m strong enough.”
“I am aware! But I don’t like leaving you to do all the hard work.” Papyrus ran his fingers through Mettaton’s silky hair. “The Great Papyrus won’t hear of you doing that again. From now on, we will both carry the bags when we go shopping.”
“Oh, alright. You’ve defeated me.” Mettaton sighed as Papyrus’s fingers massaged his scalp. “But you spoil me all the time. You should let me do it, too.”
“I think our credit card bill for the month will be evidence enough that you do spoil me!” Papyrus laughed and moved his hand down to Mettaton’s back, rubbing circles into the metal skin. “I’m lucky you’re a millionaire. I don’t think anyone else could handle my expensive tastes!”
“I’m happy to buy you whatever you want, darling. God knows you deserve it,” Mettaton purred, the little massage making him almost melt into the couch.
“You really think so?”
“Of course!”
The next time they went shopping, Mettaton and Papyrus ended up having a contest to see who could carry the most bags (Mettaton won—“It’s not fair, I don’t have muscles of metal!” Papyrus complained as his husband smirked.). In fact, nearly every time they went shopping from that day onward, they would briefly battle over who would carry things.
But it was all in good fun, and at the end of the day, it was just one of those ways that the two of them showed their love for each other.