Mettaton exhales gently, his breath fogging up and drifting away on the breeze, travelling far over the heads of the children who run around in their back gardens in the town. A few parents' cries and shouts echo. Some kids run inside, while others get company in the cold. Dogs bark, cats slink through the streets, a buzz is in the air.
"It really is." He sighs quietly, and Papyrus lets out another short, breathy chuckle.
The raven-haired boy shivers, running his hands up and down against his arms in a futile attempt to fight the chills. Papyrus raises an eyebrow slightly before extending his left arm towards him. Cautiously watching him, Mettaton shuffles closer and Papyrus attempts to wrap half of the giant coat, which Mettaton guesses must actually be Asgore's, around his frame.
Eyes wide in confusion, Mettaton looks across at Papyrus the best he can through his hair. Papyrus frowns.
"This may not work as well as I hoped it would..." Mettaton simply giggles before slipping out and heading back inside to grab his own jacket from his room.
As he opens the door to his bedroom, however, his dark brown eyes land on the watch on his left wrist.
23:58
Shit.
Panic levels rising rapidly, Mettaton snatches his jacket from the end pole of his bed, slipping it on and shutting the door behind him again. He practically runs across the hall to the balcony, yanking the door open and stepping back out. He makes his way directly to Papyrus, repeating his prepared question in his head a few times.
The white-haired boy smiles softly when his eyes land on Mettaton again, and the rehearsed words flee from his mind, the red blush on his cheeks replacing them. He nibbles on his bottom lip as he starts worrying.
"H-hey Papyrus, can I ask you something?" Shit, he stuttered, he's going to give himself away-
"Of course you can, what's up?" Papyrus' reply is calm, collected, though his mind visibly starts racing. Shit, he's done it now-
"U-um, I-I was just wondering, if... um..." his blush deepening, Mettaton sighs and shakes his head, his eyes squeezing shut as he steps back from the railing and further away from Ppayrus. "Nothing. Just forget it." He runs his hand down the left side of his face, groaning beneath his breath.
How had he managed to ruin this so badly?
And worse, could he wait another year to get this chance again?
Would he still get this opportunity next year?
Most likely not.
Resigning himself to fate, he sighs again, his breath coming out shaky, uneven. A single tear escapes between his thick, black eyelashes, running down his left cheek to fall from his chin and splash onto the wooden floor. Mettaton roughly brushes the back of his wrist against his face, starting to turn away to his left when another hand gently grips his right one.
Papyrus' fingers intertwine with his, causing the raven-haired boy's breath to catch in his throat.
Papyrus reaches out and gently turns Mettaton's head to face him, his eyes wide and concerned.
"You know you can ask me anything, right? It doesn't matter what it's about." His voice is as soft and gentle as his touch. Mettaton, still unable to speak properly, simply nods, his blush deepening as he watches the white-haired boy's eyes.
The cries of children and adults alike ring out in the air, a terrifying alarm to Mettaton's ears.
"Ten!"
"Nine!"
Happy New Year - smut
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