Words: 2169
Warnings: awkward flirting, sex, pinning against wall, praise
Ftm!Mettaton
(You know the drill) sub.!Mettaton, Dom.!Papyrus
Papyrus' body shifts and stirs, his eyes forced closed, his hands reaching out for his boyfriend. They fall against nothing, his fingertips hanging over the edge of the mattress. His eyes snap open, seeing no one next to him.
Mettaton woke first? Normally, the black-haired boy is never one to pass up an opportunity to sleep in. Unless Papyrus is forgetting about something?
No, that is definitely the shower running now.
Sighing in relief, Papyrus sits up, pushing the duvet back and slipping out of the bed. He steps out the room, hearing his boyfriend's voice through the bathroom door, humming to himself. Papyrus' heart swells - every note from Mettaton's mouth is a blessing, his range surprisingly wide. Slyly opening the door, Papyrus pokes his head in to be greeted with his boyfriend's beautiful vocals, softly singing what seems to be another love song.
Papyrus slips into the shower behind his boyfriend, silently adoring his voice, his eyes roaming freely over his body. A small, soft smile lifts to his lips as the last two lines echo again, longer, emotional, powerful. Papyrus reaches out to his boyfriend's hips, pulling himself closer, pressing his chest against Mettaton's back, holding onto him tightly, a squeal bursting from the raven-haired boy's lips as he starts, his gaze shooting over his left shoulder. Papyrus laughs as Mettaton shakes his head, flicking warm water at him.
"Good morning." Papyrus' voice is barely more than a whisper, tickling Mettaton's skin as he returns the greeting before rinsing his hair out, flicking more water at Papyrus, who recoils. Mettaton laughs as he looks back at him again.
"Well, you got into the shower behind someone, what did you expect?"
"Touché, mister."
Mettaton runs his fingers through his hair, squeezing most of the remaining water from the black strands.
"Getting out already?"
"Well you didn't pick a great time to join me." He laughs to himself as Papyrus scoffs playfully. The taller boy wraps his arms around Mettaton's waist, pressing his hips against him, his head resting on his left shoulder, a quiet hum in his throat. His right hand shifts up and down, smoothly running over the black-haired boy's curves.
"You're so beautiful, baby."
A shiver runs through Mettaton's body, his hands landing on Papyrus', gently wrapping his fingers around them and pulling them away from his skin. Papyrus lifts his head in confusion, one eyebrow raised.
"Not now. Later." Mettaton's breathing is faster than before, his eyes focusing on Papyrus, who nods and gently presses a kiss to Mettaton's neck, fighting the urge to mark him.
The two step out of the shower together a minute later, wrapping their towels around their waists. Papyrus holds the door open for Mettaton, bowing playfully. The black-haired boy rolls his eyes as he thanks him, laughing quietly.
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The sun rests across the horizon, the sky a gorgeous mix of colours - oranges, yellows, pinks, purples, blues, all fighting to dominate the heavens. The moon waves to the sun from across the globe, bidding the giant star goodnight.
Papyrus shoves Mettaton against the wall, pinning his wrists above his head with one knee slotted between his thighs, attacking his neck. Mettaton moans and curses beneath his breath, his eyes rolling back and his head pressing hard on the wall, his spine arching forward slightly. His chest meets Papyrus' and the taller boy grabs his left hip in his right hand, squeezing tightly as he forces his lower body back against the wall. His hips press further into the hard surface, a weak pain starting to flare up, excitement coursing through his veins as he breathes deeply and quickly.
