Much to your dismay, you didn't see him the next day. Or the next. Or the next or the next or the next.

As a matter of fact, it was a week until you even got his promised phone call.

After a while you had completely despaired of ever hearing from him. It was just one night that almost was something special. He didn't care about you any more. You missed your chance to mean something to him. Even if you had just had sex, he would've at least had that to remember. Now there was no reason for him to care about you. None at all.

So you were incredibly surprised when you got a phone call from an unknown number the next Tuesday. Of course, you still assumed that Mettaton didn't really remember you or his promise, so you ignored it. And you ignored it again and again and again and again and okay yeah this was definitely Mettaton. Only he would call you incessantly for five minutes, even when ignored.

"Oh! Darling, I was beginning to worry something had happened." The familiar voice reached your ears, and you may have accidentally smiled a little. What? He was cute. You were allowed to smile.

"I, yeah, I didn't really think that it was you," you answered awkwardly, laying back on your couch.

A little laughter, an oh-hoh-hoh, from the speaker and then he said, "Didn't I tell you to expect my call?" You could practically hear his smirk.

"Well, yeah. But still..."

"Hush! Hush, hush, lovely-. No buts here. Well, except for especially cute ones."

You paused. "I can't tell if you're bragging or flirting. Either way that was terrible."

"A little of both, as always. I do have pride in my rear, as I'm certain you're aware," he began, with a small chuckle. You informed him that you were quite aware as he continued, "But I also admire your assets, my dear."

You snorted derisively. "Well, my," you resisted the temptation to add fat, "assets thank you."

"I'm sure they do, darling. Now! We were getting off topic." You may have heard him snap.

"Was there ever one?"

"There was about to be," he defended, "I would like to take you on a date, my lovely."

"Oh? Oh, uh, yeah sure." That was probably the entirely wrong way to agree to a date, but it was genuine.

"Wonderful! Are you free Thursday night?" Okay, wow, he was moving fast. He needed to calm the fuck down and give you a second to catch up. Robot. Date. Thursday? Were you free?

"I don't really know. I have to check."

"Well, now you are."

"You can't just assume things like that, Mettaton." You sighed through your nose.

"I can and I did. Make yourself free, okay, darling?"

"Fine. Sure thing." He may have been presumptous in, well, everything he said, but you were not looking to be on his bad side. And you also knew for a fact that you had nothing going on. You never did. "I'll pencil you in right after my scheduled hour of wallowing in self pity."

He rushed to say, "No, none of that. A gem as lovely as you should not be spending any time on useless things like that. Trust me, it is going to be one of the best nights of your life."

You sighed, "You're only saying that because I'll be with you."

"Of course! That's exactly why it'll be so wonderful. I'll pick you up right after you get off work. We'll both be at the lab then anyway."

"Alright, I'll remember."

"Marvelous! I'll see you then," he exclaimed.

"Yup, see ya."

"Toodles, beautiful!"

The dial tone sounded and you dropped your phone onto the couch cushions, curling up in your blanket and raising the volume. A date. In two days. With Mettaton.

A date with Mettaton.

Well, this should be interesting.
_____
It was indeed interesting. He came into the lab on Thursday when you had a few hours left in your day. He winked briefly at you and you gave a quick wave as he strutted to Alphys, likely to gossip.

About an hour after that, you felt a presence approach from behind and turned in your chair to see Mettaton.

"Hello there," you greeted, swivelling your awesome roller chair so you could face him. You loved these things.

"You look lovely today, my darling." He crouched slightly so he could make eye contact with you. Damn, he was tall.

"Thanks. You," noticing something, you trailed off before asking, "You're wearing clothes?"

"That I am."

"Why?"

He pouted, "Do you not like it?"

You took a moment to properly examine his outfit. He looked cute. You couldn't fully appreciate it before, but now you were taking it in. The shoulder spikes were gone and he had donned a pastel pink cropped sweater that fell off one shoulder. He had accompanied this with the shortest pair of black shorts that you had ever seen a male wear, and holy hell was he rocking it. Mettaton was somehow even hotter in clothes than he was out of them.

"I, fuck, no. I love it. You look gorgeous," you responded, still in slight awe of his style.

He beamed as he thanked you, saying, "I already knew that, but it's so much better coming from you."

"Flattered," you said simply. You sat in silence a little longer, watching eachother before you spoke up again. "Well, I've still got some work to get done so..."

"So?"

How could you politely tell him that he needed to leave you alone so you could focus and not ogle over him. The best you could do was say, "I don't think the boss would appreciate it if I slacked now."

"Are you getting rid of me?!"

"I am subtlely attempting to," you answered, swivelling around to face the computer screen. Alphys was having you look over some sciencey robot stuff today and you didn't want to slack when you were given actual work.

Mettaton didn't leave, however. He stood behind you, resting his arms and head on the back of your chair as you worked. He stayed like that for the full hour and a half until you could leave, his eyes lighting up when he noticed you shutting down.

"Finally!" He exclaimed, linking arms with you and practically dragging you out the door the moment you stood. On the way out, he was stopped by Alphys' voice.

"W-wait, M-m-mettat-ton, where are you g-going?"

He sighed theatrically, "I told you I had a date, dear."

"O-oh, right. O-o-oh, is (Y-Y/N) your d-date?" Her eyes widened behind the thick lenses of her glasses.

"Yes, darling," he rolled his eyes, "May we go now?"

"S-sorry," she sheepishly apologized, "D-don't let m-me keep y-y-you."

"I'll take care of him, doc," you said with a joking salute. "He'll be home by eight."

And with that, you let yourself be pulled into the night by a fabulous robot.