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Mettaton wasn’t a big fan of rain, normally. It had an annoying habit of ruining some of his best clothes, it made people want to stay inside, and if he wasn’t careful enough, and some water reached his circuits, he would be severely injured, if not dead. Today, however, he felt the rainy weather really matched his mood.
He sat in the corner of a small coffee shop, the hood of his jacket pulled over his head and shadowing his face. For once in his life, he didn’t want people to recognize him and sing his praises. He just wanted to think.
In particular, he wanted to think about Papyrus.
Papyrus was one of his best friends. They’d met at one of Mettaton’s concerts, when he’d asked for an autograph. Mettaton hadn’t realized that he was a friend of Frisk’s. Realizing that he’d been neglecting his family yet again, he had started spending more time at Frisk’s house, which apparently Papyrus frequently visited as well. Papyrus had eventually lost his awe at Mettaton’s celebrity status and began to see him more as a friend, and before they knew it, they were very close.
Mettaton wasn’t unhappy about that. It felt wonderful to have such a caring, upbeat, affectionate person as a friend.
And then, a little over a week ago, Papyrus had told Mettaton that he was in love with him and would very much like it if he would be his boyfriend. Mettaton had declined, saying that he was in love with the stage and couldn’t let anything distract him.
That had ruined everything.
Papyrus had clearly tried to take it in stride, but he was texting Mettaton significantly less than usual, and Mettaton’s responses were the barest possible minimum of politeness. Mettaton hadn’t been over to Frisk’s house since the confession, afraid of meeting the skeleton there.
Now, as he gripped his coffee cup and ran his thumb along the rim of the lid, he was starting to come to terms with a few things.
Namely, that he was in love with Papyrus, too.
He wouldn’t admit it to himself those first few days after the confession, but really, he’d found Papyrus very appealing as a partner for a long time. He was reliable, honest, understanding, a good listener. There was so much love embedded in every inch of him, in everything he did.
The truth was, Mettaton didn’t know how he could live up to that.
After all, he’d been ready to abandon his cousin and friends in Waterfall the second he learned his dreams could come true. He’d treated Alphys terribly, practically using her just to get a new body. He didn’t even want to think about making Burgerpants a laughingstock back in the Underground.
The idea of hurting Papyrus—sweet, gentle, sensitive Papyrus—was such a horrid, unfathomable thing that Mettaton didn’t even want to risk it. Breaking the skeleton’s heart wouldn’t just destroy Papyrus, it would destroy Mettaton, as well. The pain of knowing he would be the cause of Papyrus’s hurt would be too great to bear.
And yet, he knew, he was causing Papyrus pain now, having him think that Mettaton considered his career more important than his friend. He could only imagine how Papyrus was reacting in private—was he crying himself to sleep at night? Was he able to even look at all his Mettaton posters and merchandise without hurting inside? Did he now believe he might be as worthless as Mettaton’s words had implied?
A teardrop fell onto the table beside his cup, and Mettaton realized he was weeping. He wiped his face with his sleeve quickly, hoping no one around him had noticed.
How could he fix this? He was damned if he did and damned if he didn’t.
Or… was he?
After all… since befriending Papyrus, he’d been making efforts to change himself for the better. He was spending more time with Alphys, helping more often with Napstablook and Shyren, and treating Burgerpants with more respect. And Papyrus hadn’t even asked him to do anything like that. Seeing the pure goodness of him, the bravery, the honesty and the will to never give up—Mettaton had felt it all had given him the strength to become a better person.
And if that was the case… couldn’t he have it in him to be a better person for Papyrus?
Of course there was always a risk that he would hurt him, but if he could make it up to the others, couldn’t he make it up to Papyrus as well?
Mettaton’s hand gripped the cup so hard, he began denting the cardboard. There was only one question left, and that was whether he was brave enough to make the choice.
Lifting his head slightly, he glanced out the window of the shop, and saw a single red umbrella among a sea of black ones walking outside in the rain.
Standing quickly, Mettaton caught a flash of white underneath the red umbrella. Could that be…?
His heart swelled and his chest warmed, and in that moment, he had courage.
Leaving his coffee behind, he almost flew out of the shop, determined to reach that red umbrella. But Papyrus was across the street, and by the time Mettaton reached the crosswalk, the signal was red, and traffic was moving across the intersection. There was no way he could get around it until the signal changed.
He paced around the edge of the crosswalk, breathing heavily. He couldn’t miss this chance, what if he was never brave enough again?
The very second the signal turned green, Mettaton shot across the intersection, looking desperation for the red umbrella.
But it was nowhere in sight.
Desperate, Mettaton searched the streets for ten minutes, heedless of the pouring rain. He could not find Papyrus.
He finally took shelter under the awning of a bookshop, sinking to the ground and hugging himself. He could feel the courage leaving his heart. He’d missed his chance. He and Papyrus would never be together.
Just before the last inkling of his resolution disappeared, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out to look uncomprehendingly at a text from somebody.
Suddenly, his grip tightened. How stupid was he? If he couldn’t talk to Papyrus in person now… he could call and tell him he’d changed his mind.
With shaking fingers, he dialed the number. Before hitting the last digit, he hesitated, steeling himself.
This call could change everything, and while there was a risk it could all go wrong someday, Mettaton realized just how much he wanted to take that chance.
He hit the last number and put the phone up to his ear, waiting.