why can't you be a celebrity and still be a person? i mean, i'm not an expert on celebrity, but...it just doesn't make sense to me.
[Maybe that's the problem. But he can't just see Mettaton as some kind of distant ideal. He knows the guy too well at this point.]
[He stuffs his hands in his pockets and ducks his head. This is all so goddamn embarrassing. And he didn't think he had enough dignity left to even feel embarrassed anymore. Or shy. Why does he have to be so shy about this stuff? It's stupid.]
i'm not asking for anything more. just for you to--be around. be there. i don't want to tie you down. i get it, metta. and...heh, i know i wouldn't...even be a blip on your radar back in the real world. i don't think we'd ever get to this point. just--i'm sorry, i don't mean that as guilt tripping. i'm...
[He makes himself look up at Mettaton, but damn is it hard to meet his gaze.]
i'm not...good at letting people know where they stand with me, because it just...it just doesn't occur to me. so i just--i want you to know that, uh. no matter what ends up happening, i'm--still your friend first. yeah?
[Even if that's still tying him down in some capacity. Even if that cages him. Sans is just selfish like that. But some kind of celebrity life without real friends just seems--horrible.]
[He can't help glancing back as the door closes. That's what Mirrorton certainly wants for him. That kind of loneliness.]
[He sees Mettaton grin out of the corner of his eyesocket and braces himself for the flirting.]
ugh, puts a new spin on people calling me a marshmallow...
[He's not sure why people most pet names boil down to a certain...edibility. Why would you refer to someone you love as something you'd want to eat? It's weird.]
[Mettaton turns him around gently and pulls him closer, and Sans can't help but stare up at him, eyesockets a bit wide. Holy shit. Holy shit, Mettaton isn't thinking about...he couldn't be, right? Now isn't even remotely a good time, right?]
[He feels way too warm. Little escapade. Oh god, here we go. Sans gives a little shiver. This is completely unfair. Sans can't keep up when Mettaton starts in on the flirting. He just--has this whole lexicon he can use, and Sans absolutely does not know the language. He just knows what it does to him.]
[Mettaton trails off and Sans blinks, forgetting where he is and what's happening for a moment.]
when...what?
[Mettaton is looking past him now, narrowing his eyes. He looks angry.]
[Oh. Oh god.]
[Sans turns and looks behind him as Mettaton lets go and walks to the Mirror. God, he forgot. How could he forget? There's mirrors all up and down the hallway. Mirrorton saw them. He knows now.]
[Some little voice in the back of Sans's mind says, good.]
[He expects Mettaton to break it off, start apologizing to his Mirror, but he--doesn't. He yells at the mirror instead. Sans blinks in obvious surprise. Mettaton's angry. Of course he is. He just had to witness his worst memory--he just had to see for the first time in a year just what kind of person Mirrorton really is. He's angry, he's letting himself be angry, he's letting himself be angry at his Mirror.]
[Sans can't help grinning. It's not out of spite or triumph. He's just--fucking proud. Mettaton's figuring it out, he's standing up for himself. He's not letting Mirrorton walk all over him anymore. It's incredible. It's wonderful. It's a huge step forward.]
[Mettaton then chucks his boot at the mirror and the whole thing smashes to pieces. Sans takes an automatic step backward just to avoid potential shrapnel. The mirror is destroyed, and Mirrorton is gone.]
holy shit.
[His voice sounds a bit shakier than he expected.]
that was amazing. you stood up to him. damn, metta. i'm proud of you. that was hot as hell.
[He realizes what he just said a full second after he says it and claps both hands over his mouth, way too late. He stares into the middle distance in horror for a moment, then pulls his hands away.]
can, uh. we go somewhere else now? sick of mirrors.
no subject
[Maybe that's the problem. But he can't just see Mettaton as some kind of distant ideal. He knows the guy too well at this point.]
[He stuffs his hands in his pockets and ducks his head. This is all so goddamn embarrassing. And he didn't think he had enough dignity left to even feel embarrassed anymore. Or shy. Why does he have to be so shy about this stuff? It's stupid.]
i'm not asking for anything more. just for you to--be around. be there. i don't want to tie you down. i get it, metta. and...heh, i know i wouldn't...even be a blip on your radar back in the real world. i don't think we'd ever get to this point. just--i'm sorry, i don't mean that as guilt tripping. i'm...
[He makes himself look up at Mettaton, but damn is it hard to meet his gaze.]
i'm not...good at letting people know where they stand with me, because it just...it just doesn't occur to me. so i just--i want you to know that, uh. no matter what ends up happening, i'm--still your friend first. yeah?
[Even if that's still tying him down in some capacity. Even if that cages him. Sans is just selfish like that. But some kind of celebrity life without real friends just seems--horrible.]
[He can't help glancing back as the door closes. That's what Mirrorton certainly wants for him. That kind of loneliness.]
[He sees Mettaton grin out of the corner of his eyesocket and braces himself for the flirting.]
ugh, puts a new spin on people calling me a marshmallow...
[He's not sure why people most pet names boil down to a certain...edibility. Why would you refer to someone you love as something you'd want to eat? It's weird.]
[Mettaton turns him around gently and pulls him closer, and Sans can't help but stare up at him, eyesockets a bit wide. Holy shit. Holy shit, Mettaton isn't thinking about...he couldn't be, right? Now isn't even remotely a good time, right?]
[He feels way too warm. Little escapade. Oh god, here we go. Sans gives a little shiver. This is completely unfair. Sans can't keep up when Mettaton starts in on the flirting. He just--has this whole lexicon he can use, and Sans absolutely does not know the language. He just knows what it does to him.]
[Mettaton trails off and Sans blinks, forgetting where he is and what's happening for a moment.]
when...what?
[Mettaton is looking past him now, narrowing his eyes. He looks angry.]
[Oh. Oh god.]
[Sans turns and looks behind him as Mettaton lets go and walks to the Mirror. God, he forgot. How could he forget? There's mirrors all up and down the hallway. Mirrorton saw them. He knows now.]
[Some little voice in the back of Sans's mind says, good.]
[He expects Mettaton to break it off, start apologizing to his Mirror, but he--doesn't. He yells at the mirror instead. Sans blinks in obvious surprise. Mettaton's angry. Of course he is. He just had to witness his worst memory--he just had to see for the first time in a year just what kind of person Mirrorton really is. He's angry, he's letting himself be angry, he's letting himself be angry at his Mirror.]
[Sans can't help grinning. It's not out of spite or triumph. He's just--fucking proud. Mettaton's figuring it out, he's standing up for himself. He's not letting Mirrorton walk all over him anymore. It's incredible. It's wonderful. It's a huge step forward.]
[Mettaton then chucks his boot at the mirror and the whole thing smashes to pieces. Sans takes an automatic step backward just to avoid potential shrapnel. The mirror is destroyed, and Mirrorton is gone.]
holy shit.
[His voice sounds a bit shakier than he expected.]
that was amazing. you stood up to him. damn, metta. i'm proud of you. that was hot as hell.
[He realizes what he just said a full second after he says it and claps both hands over his mouth, way too late. He stares into the middle distance in horror for a moment, then pulls his hands away.]
can, uh. we go somewhere else now? sick of mirrors.