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"GREAT JOB, superstar!"
Tenna clapped proudly before giving Mettaton a hand as he jumped off the stage.
"How many times can you KNOCK 'EM DEAD before we don't have an audience anymore?"
"Thank you, thank you." – Mettaton bowed dramatically before awarding Tenna a genuine smile – "I'm just a natural."
"BORN talented, no doubt!"
"Makes two of us, darling."
For a split second, Mettaton could see Tenna's display blip into static before his face returned again.
"What's the prescription, dr. Tennaville?" He asked lightheartedly, squeezing his large gloved hand.
"Degaussing, most likely." – Tenna mimed pushing up a pair of non-existent glasses. – "Let's wrap up and head out."
~~~
That night Mettaton awoke to a discordant mechanical hum. As he began to power on, he processed a continuous, high pitched whine that got too loud to ignore.
"Tenna.. I think there's a high voltage leak somewhere..." He whispered grogilly, turning to his side to face Tenna, only to find the space beside him empty.
"Where have you gone?" He increased the brightness of his screen, emitting a perfectly white light over Tenna's side of the bed. Only messy, tangled sheets. Yet as soon as he called out to him, the whine abruptly hitched, leaving only a rattling hum.
Mettaton was about to lift himself up and out of bed before he recognised the figure right under his wheel.
"Why are you on the floor? Are you okay??"
Any leftover drowsiness was gone at once, replaced by concern and confusion instead.
He stretched out his arms until he could carefully pick up Tenna and hold him in his palms. Although he was well aware of Tenna's glooby tendencies, he had never seen him get this small.
The high pitched whine returned, this time hiccuping and warping Tenna's voicebox as he attempted to speak.
"HunkY DOody!"
The black screen tried its best to give him a face. Instead it emitted a concerning, high voltage zap and a blip of white, before turning back to black.
"Must've caUUUgHT a *-old."
Mettaton laid him onto the pillow, watching as the CRT's nightclothes barely hid the way his frame shook and rattled.
"What happened, darling?" – he lightly petted the shivering antennae, running his finger up to steady one of the toppers. – "Can we talk?"
His question went unanswered for a while as Tenna burried his screen into the pillow, hands desperately trying to locate any switches or dials that would stabilize his volume and output.
Mettaton didn't pry. Instead, he let out a hum of his own, monotone and low, his thumb gently petting Tenna's back.
Eventually the popping and whining stilled enough to let Tenna speak. Mettaton had to come closer to make out the words; it seemed that Tenna had manually lowered his voice.
"Everytime I see you on that stage, I feel like a coward. How can you do it, why aren't you scared?"
The response almost knocked Mettaton off of his wheel.
"You can't be serious, Tenna. You of all hosts should know that I'm playing a character, darling, we're actors!"
He scooped up Tenna with barely hidden desperation.
"Please don't tell me that you're jealous, not after we've been through so much."
"I'm not talking about the show, Mettaton-" – Tenna took a deep, shaky breath that threatened to seal whatever he had to say in his throat. – "I'm talking about you. Everyday you wake up and choose to be yourself. Your most authentic self. And everytime I see you like this, I regret everything about how I have lived my life. I'm doomed to act as someone else forever."
The popping started again as Tenna attempted to squeeze out the last of his thoughts.
"Why can'*-tt I *-e like you?"
"Oh, Tenna."
A sharp pang felt like it would tear Mettaton apart. The sudden realisation tugged and pulled at the form hidden below the whirring machinery.
"My Tenna, my darling." – He pushed her into his light grid, holding her close as his own voicebox began to warble. – "Of course you can, my love."
"No, Mett*-ton, I'm sorry." Tenna pushed herself away as soon as she heard the strain in Mettaton's tone.
"I'm *-orry for Waking *-ou over this. Forget about it, o*-ay? I'm talking non*-ense."
Mettaton brought her back in, his metaphysical heartbeat pounding out of red-hot guilt. He should've noticed sooner. He should've seen the signs when they first started talking about it. How many nights did he spend confiding in her, how many days did they share his happiness?
Why didn't he ask?
"You didn't call it nonsense when you comforted me." – Mettaton whispered. – "Don't brush it off when it comes to yourself."
"You w*-re a young man, you h*-d-- hAve your whole LIFE ahead of you!" Tenna stumbled over her words, static pouring out in intervals before her screen would darken again.
"I have LIVEd mine already. T*-o hard to scrub i--iit clean when I spent it all in the pUBlic eye. They'll l*-ugh me out the door and close the blinds, BESt case scenario."
"I won't!" – Mettaton's tone whined a hysterical note, too high-pitched to be reassuring. – "Tenna, I'll stand right by you just like you did with me, please don't say that."
"Then they'll laugh you out--t too."
Something snapped in Mettaton as his grid turned red.
This was still the same Tenna who insisted that he should perform, sing, dance, write, act, and create, that he should be her co-host, that she would help him no matter what, no questions asked.
Her implying, no, insisting that his aspirations wouldn't come true because he'd choose to support someone just like him, much less his life partner, was enough to blow a gasket.
"Tenna get yourself together!" – he barked, voice crackling from the volume. – "It's not the 80's anymore, for crying out loud!"
He took a moment to calm down, he had to. Tenna had gotten so nervous that even her whine stopped completely. The harsh red light illuminated her tiny, shaking frame.
Mettaton's sensors could catch onto the shallowness of her breaths; as if bracing for something. A learned response that she will never have to use again.
"You've spent so much time in the limelight that you can only get the joy of others through your thick casing." Mettaton sighed, turning off his grid.
"Please believe that I am here for you. If you go on like this, pushing it down, you'll people-please into an early grave."
"Sometimes it feels like I already did."
Mettaton's fans whirred up, sensing his distress. He related, too deeply to find the correct words, to produce a monologue so awe-inspiring that she would instantly believe him.
He could only hold her, the love of his life, as his speakers involuntarily produced the same low hum they did before. It filled the air around them, making it thick with an even, mechanical buzz that made Tenna's shoulders droop.
Mettaton gently put her onto his pillow, fixing their bedding with messy, uncoordinated movements.
It wasn't long before he laid down beside her, carefully nudging Tenna until she was under the blanket.
"It's never too late, darling." – A whisper escaped Mettaton's voicebox. – "Tomorrow is a new day. I will help you, but you have to help yourself too."
His thumb brushed across the length of Tenna's back.
"Let's talk about it in the morning and see how it goes, okay?"
"...Okay." Tenna relented, exhausted from the high voltage in her head. The electric heat radiating off of Mettaton's grid felt like home.
"Please let this stay between us, okay?" Tenna whispered under her breath, leaning into the gentle touches of her star.
"Not a word to anyone until you're ready."– Mettaton assured, already feeling her form shift and grow.
~~~~
Mettaton had woken up earlier than he'd normally prefer. After carefully getting his arm out from under full-sized Tenna, he quickly wheeled away to his storage room and locked the door behind him.
Unfortunately, the process of collecting every single accessory he owned took longer than expected; he spent at least an hour seam-ripping embellishments off of old costumes and carefully taking apart his favorite pieces, until the packing box next to the door was filled sufficiently.
Tenna already sat at the kitchen table as Mettaton strolled in, silently drinking her coffee and giving him a nervous look when she saw him enter. He ignored his own mug, placing the box on the table with a satisfying thump.
"You don't have to go from 0 to a 100 in one day, you know."
He plopped onto the chair, pulled out a handheld mirror and slid it to Tenna, an excited glint in his eye.
"Let's start from 1."
~~~~
It took some time before careful mechanical fingers tied a sky-blue pussycat bow around Tenna's neck.
"I'm not sure." – Mettaton leaned back to see if it wasn't crooked. – "Very darling but a little old-fashioned."
"NO!!"
Tenna's hand impulsively rushed to her neck even without Mettaton reaching for the bow.
"I mean, it's nice! Could be a different colour... maybe... hmm.."
Before the CRT could doubt herself any further, her hand moved from the bow to the underside of her screen in an act of improv. She struck a pose, legs crossed and head high.
"But what does the AUDIENCE think?"
Mettaton mimed swooning out of his chair, applause and starstruck hoots playing from his speakers. The kitchen filled with their laughter, so genuine that it shook off any leftover anxiety the two had held onto.
"I always loved you in bowties." – Mettaton reminisced after a moment. – "I think it was the 2000's when you wore a huge one for the New Years broadcast. The new century. I really hoped you would make it a habit from then on."
"It wouldn't have caught on, superstar, I had a brand already." Tenna toyed with the silky ribbons of her new accessory, falling silent.
"A rebrand is good once in a while." Mettaton reached up to the casing surrounding her screen, brushing his fingers across the grainy plastic surface.
"I know." – Tenna leaned into his touch, the vents on the side of her head letting out a pleasant whirr. – "You've shown me. Let's do it together. Again."
A wave of relief washed over Mettaton as he stood from his chair and kissed her adoringly.
Tenna returned the kiss, practically melting into it. Her hands found their way to both sides of Mettaton's waist while one of his telescopic arms wrapped around her shoulders, the other one tracing, brushing, and petting the hot surface near her vents. It wasn't long until Tenna's nose bloomed and delicate red petals landed in Mettaton's hair, adorning him like he did her.
Static danced on their lips as they pulled away, still holding onto one another.
"I didn’t think I could be any more smitten with you than I already was." Tenna whispered.
Mettaton held her gaze even as he felt the corners of his mouth quiver.
"I love you, my lady."