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The vanity mirror’s lights filled the dressing room with a warmth, but it was nothing compared to the TV host’s bright screen, gradually fading from a fluorescent white to a very soft, pastel pink, blending in with the walls. She was seated on a stool right by her mirror as her co-host delicately tapped a powder brush into some blush before tapping away the excess, applying it to her face.
This had been the same song and dance between the two for a while now: getting ready together for a show or a big event and deciding how they’d match. It almost always ended with Mettaton doing Tenna’s makeup, sometimes vice versa. Now, that wasn’t to say that Tenna didn’t have any makeup artists in her crew for shows—many of her actors, including herself, needed quick touch-ups from time to time. However, there was just something about having it done by someone else, not just anyone but one of her biggest fans, her co-star, her partner, that blew all her physical challenges out of the water and made her prefer that Mettaton do it. After all, when she was still finding herself, it was Mettaton who helped guide her the same way she did for him, and it was he who helped her rebrand, down to her appearance. There was a tenderness, a gentleness unmatched, to having someone who was with you from the start hold you by your casing and help you discover yourself, little by little, with each tap of powder.
Moments like these were extremely quiet, to the point where the two could hear their internal systems softly humming. Tenna hadn’t noticed the subtle change in her screen’s color, instead too focused on staring at the other. With every slight movement of Mettaton’s eye, she could hear it softly whir, a quiet yet constant sound that she found comfort in. After a while of this—Tenna’s iconic mug appeared simple but was intricate—Mettaton squinted with a pensive expression as he broke the silence.
“Well…”
“Hm?”
“Well,” a wide grin, “Welly well well well…”
“W-Welly? Well?”
A quick pause before continuing, “Welly well well well well!”
“Alright, alright, shoot!” Tenna flapped her hand as she leaned back against the vanity’s counter, “What is it?”
“Well darling, as much as I’d like to continue painting you…” Mettaton said, turning the stool around so the other could face the mirror, “You’re far too pink for me to find your shade,” He stood right behind her before whispering as if he was speaking to a hidden audience, “And that’s saying something, dear, because this pink is absolutely darling on you!”
“Whuh-huh?!” Tenna exclaimed, hiding her face from flushed embarrassment.
“That’s beside the point though. I’ve never seen you this pink before!” Mettaton inspected the TV-host from the mirror, lightly placing his chin atop her head and placing a hand on her shoulder with a soft chuckle, “Are you really that nervous about tonight?”
Of course, the two had been invited to attend an award show that “TV Time!” got nominated in several categories for. It wouldn’t exactly be a surprise that even someone as seasoned as Tenna would get a bit of cold feet before the show, but not to this degree. Perhaps she was blushing due to the one in front of her, but regardless of the reason, she decided to make a quick show of it, turning around to face the other.
“N-Nervous? Me?!” Tenna dramatically leaned into a pose and placed a hand on her chest despite her flustered state, “Of course not! I’m as groovy as could-”
“Aht-aht-aht!” Mettaton gently placed a finger on the CRT’s lips before continuing with a keen giggle, “Your acting is marvelous as always, dearest, but you’re not fooling anyone with that flushed screen of yours!”
“Okay maybe I’m a tad bit nervous,” Tenna rapidly muttered as she looked down, slightly sinking and twiddling her thumbs.
There was something slightly endearing about Anne when she’d get caught acting, and it always caused or would get caused by Mettaton’s teasing. Of course, her co-host made sure he never took things too far, especially in moments like these, so he spoke to her tenderly as he took her hands and held them.
“What for? You’ll do great out there, darling!”
“Well, you know how award shows can be!” Tenna cleared her throat before continuing, “They’re a big deal, can make or break everything you’ve worked so hard for!”
Despite her nervous demeanor, not wanting her co-host to worry too much, Tenna straightened with a smirk before speaking again, “Besides, can you really blame me for being so nervous? I’m being painted by the most charming, handsome, glamtastically glamorous gorgeously glamgorgeous robot of all time, for goodness sake!”
As if on cue, Mettaton would strike a small pose for each compliment Tenna would give to him with a grin, ending it with a dramatic hair flip.
“Why, aren’t you quite the flatterer today,” he briefly graced a hand against her casing, “Quite a shame, though. I can still tell you’re acting.”
“No!” Tenna giggled before continuing her adamance, “Noooo! No! I was being serious that time! I swear!”
Mettaton jokingly crossed his arms and huffed in mock disappointment.
“I don’t know, maybe you’re just saying that to make me less worried for you, hm?”
“NOOOO! I swear that wasn’t the cas-” Tenna immediately looked down and rapidly muttered again, “Okay maybe it was,” she slowly stared back up again, “But I still meant everything I said!”
“Oh, don’t look so glooby, dear,” Mettaton giggled before continuing, “You know I like to tease.”
After a shared chuckle between the two, it got quiet again as Mettaton continued applying makeup to the television host, his host. One could tell that he loved her, what with the way he instinctively smiled so warmly around her. It wasn’t one of his stellar grins he’d put on during the show, but a small, sweet smile reserved for moments like these. Both hosts’ walls were down in the confines of their dressing room, and it was most evident in something so sincere, so intimate as applying makeup. As Mettaton began putting Tenna’s lipstick on her—she wore many different shades of red, this time a deep vermillion to suit her gown—he spoke to her quietly and tenderly, as though he were sharing a secret with her.
“I believe you’ll do amazing, my dear,” he whispered, ever-so-carefully painting her lips, “You’re going to turn heads as you win each category!”
“You…really mean it?” Tenna looked into the other’s glimmering eyes, leaning closer to him without realizing it.
“I know it,” Mettaton placed the lipstick down before holding Tenna’s casing, its cooling vents now releasing air.
“What about you?”
“Hm?” Mettaton tilted his head.
“Well,” a smile, that sweet, red smile, “You said I’d win each category, but how can I do that without my gorgeous co-star by my side?”
Mettaton giggled as Anne took his hands from her casing and tenderly held them. He was starting to feel a bit flustered himself while he murmured a response.
“I suppose you’re right,” his eyes softly whirred as he took her hands into his, “We’ll be turning heads, hand-in-hand.”
Mettaton brought one of Tenna’s hands close to him and slowly, just barely brushed his lips against it, before gazing back at the other, whispering so sweetly to her.
“Together.”
“Haha!” Anne let out a nervous laugh, lightly blushing again, “Y-You know it, starlight!”
The two remained close like this without realizing it for a while, as was the norm for them. The tension was so thick one could cut it with a knife, what with the two’s heavy gazes boring into each other and their systems whirring and humming in unison. One could tell from the way they stared and the way Mettaton was now holding both of Tenna’s hands close to his face with a sigh that they were both watching, waiting for either themselves or the other to initiate the next move. A few more moments passed, and the entire room became a rosy pink, but neither minded this time.
Mettaton was the first to cut the tension, this time to the dismay of Tenna, as he moved his hands away and whirled his arms around the other’s stool again, turning her to face the mirror.
“Well, my dearest lady, as much as I’d love to continue our little escapade, I would hate to see our mugs get ruined!” He smirked knowingly, “How does this look?”
What a tease, as always! Tenna was about to remark on it, her face reverting back from pink to white, before stopping dead in her tracks, completely enamored by her reflection.
The lipstick really did pull the entire look together, considering she didn’t need eye makeup in the first place. That wasn’t necessarily a downside, however. Her lightly powdered face, the attention to detail in lining and filling in her lips, made her feel like herself. Mettaton paid a lot of attention to detail for a face as simple as Anne’s to paint. She felt beautiful, complete, special, and loved. She felt-
“Perfect…”
“I knew you would like it!” Mettaton chuckled with an eager grin, “Now, let’s not keep our outfits waiting! I’ve been simply itching to see how they look on us!”
The CRT remained still for a few moments, still awestruck, before realizing what the other had said, springing back up into action.
“Ooooh, I’m so excited! I just know we’ll look groovy!” Tenna flapped her hands before turning around to approach one of the two’s many garment racks stored in a corner of the dressing room.
Despite her focus now remaining on finishing getting ready, Tenna put a pin on the tension the two shared earlier, that brief yet seemingly long moment of suspense fueled by desire. She would have loved to chase the other’s lips, and she knew Mettaton wanted to do the same, but admittedly, he was right. They didn’t have all the time in the world to lose each other in their desires and reapply their makeup afterwards, unfortunately, so Tenna shrugged it off for the time being. On the other hand, this didn’t change the fact that Mettaton was quite the tease at times, cutting such a suspenseful moment like that short. Although the television host loved a good cliffhanger—she could almost applaud her cohost for such a performance—it was another thing when she was on the viewer’s end of it. Anne made sure not to fret, however, as much as she wanted to.
She’d be sure to get her revenge at a later time.
It was long past the award show, late into the night. The couple was absolutely exhausted from having partied out. Anne was lounging on a luxurious, velvety red couch in her sitting room, wearing a silky red robe with matching “TV Time!” branded slippers, reading through a fairly old fashion magazine. She sat by her fireplace—well, it was more like a large CRT television playing footage of a fireplace, although the warmth was about the same with the help of some magic—and let out a relaxed sigh, gazing above the surround and mantel that framed the television. Atop the mantel housed several trophies from award shows, some from the past and many new ones received that night. Some would describe Tenna’s overall taste in style and decor to be tacky or gaudy, but she and Mettaton saw it as extravagant and refined, with an added touch or so of eccentricity and campiness, much like the television host herself.
Speaking of Mettaton, the co-host was cuddled into the other from the side on her lap, arms completely coiled around her. He wore a silky pale blue robe that matched a blue gown he wore for a musical number once, something about forbidden love. His face, however, was another story, blushing softly and having been plastered several times in several places by Anne’s red lips. Now, Tenna was larger than life, figuratively and literally, and that showed with the way she showed affection, her kisses leaving huge marks as a result. Had it not been for her playing with her star’s hair while she kept reading, it would have looked absolutely blasted.
Mettaton was so smitten, he wouldn’t have it any other way.
His head laid on her shoulder, inhaling and sighing into her chest, feeling the way Tenna lightly scritched his scalp. She smelled faintly of butterscotch with a hint of cinnamon and what seemed to be citrus. He looked down at the magazine she was reading, pondering the same way she was. The two were quiet for so long, Mettaton slightly startled when Anne spoke.
“Hmm, maybe for our ‘Wild West’ segment, we could include more fringe on the outfits, especially the boots,” She pointed at a page of the magazine that caught her eye consisting of a fringe outfit, “What do you think, Metty?”
“Still as business-oriented as always, aren’t you, Anne?” Mettaton giggled before continuing, “More fringe would be nice, but I’m curious if we could exaggerate the silhouette a bit.”
“Ooooh, how about some shoulder pads?” Tenna said eagerly.
Mettaton raised his head to lay on the side of the other’s casing before responding, “You can never go wrong with shoulder pads, dear. You always look so elegant in them…” He placed his lips against Tenna’s casing, whispering to her.
“So, so pretty…” a kiss, “My beautiful lady.”
The CRT sighed and leaned into Mettaton’s affection, bookmarking the magazine page before closing it and placing it on a nearby table. Her full attention was on her co-star now as she spoke to him.
“How about we take a commercial break and worry about this tomorrow, hm?”
Mettaton faced her with half-lidded eyes, feeling the way she leaned against him as he whispered so softly, so unlike himself, as though his walls were down again.
“I would love that,” a soft smile, “I wouldn’t mind continuing our little celebration.”
Tenna placed a finger on the other’s chin as she leaned ever closer, “Nothing’s stopping us now.”
“Oh, Anne…”
The kisses they shared were long and drawn out yet soft and tender, as though the two feared the other would break from being too harsh. Mettaton’s arms remained coiled around Anne in a tight embrace, while Tenna held onto her lover’s waist. The two’s fans were whirring rather loud, becoming white noise as they became lost in whispering their sweet nothings to one another only to chase each other’s lips again.
The two laid on the couch underneath a soft blanket, both plugged in to charge while utterly exhausted from the day’s events and from their little romantic escapade. Anne’s face was now covered in Mettaton’s lipstick as well—so much for her revenge scheme of kissing him as soon as they came home. The love they shared made her so giddy, so eager, that she had shot a beautiful poinsettia from her nose, and thereafter placed it in a nearby vase with a bouquet full of them. Now, she was gazing at Mettaton’s sleeping form with one of her goofy smiles.
She really couldn’t have done it without him. Modern changes to her show took a lot of getting used to, but it felt like a breath of fresh air with Mettaton and his inspiring ideas. It’s because of his help that “TV Time!” soared again and was being rightfully rewarded. Not just that, but without someone like Mettaton who had the same experiences as her, who showed her that she could be who she truly wanted to be as she did for him in the light world, soaring through greater heights in the process, Tenna didn’t know how long she or her show would last. She sighed, not wanting to dwell into the implications of that. It didn’t matter anyways, she and her co-star, her starlight, her love and biggest fan was there for her and that’s all that mattered.
Anne sighed dreamily as she left one small, soft kiss on Mettaton’s forehead before turning her screen off.
“Sweet dreams, my star.”