A/N: Don't mind the really long break or anything. It's pretty much standard at this point, unfortunately. I'll just not be staring at Mettaton in that Santa dress with adoration haha what. Also, this story is nearly at 10K reads. Can I just underline, bold, italicize and capitalize that? 10K MOTHERHECKING READS!!!! Okay, so enjoy yet another supbar chapter from yours truly. Oh, and happy holidays to all of my darling corpses!
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You groaned as you sat up, a hot ache quickly spreading through your back. This was definitely not terrain meant for humans. It was a marvel that Frisk had managed to get anything done at all here. Shakily, you struggled to your feet, hissing at the pain that enflamed your left ankle.

Yep, definitely twisted.

Nevermind this little excursion. It had been, what? A few hours? You were more than ready to quit this and go home. As conflicted as he made you feel, you were ready to  see Mettaton’s stupid ridiculously attractive face and hear his stupid voice that made you weak in the knees and listen to his stupid talking and have those stupid demon butterflies tear up your stomach. Now the only challenge would be to get back home. That would be easier said than done, especially since you were rather hopelessly lost and slightly incapacitated. Still, you’d find a way. What was it that Frisk had been blabbering about lately? Oh right, her whole “Stay determined” spiel. Honestly, that girl came back from the underground so different than she had been when she went missing. It still surprised you that your little sister was more mature than you were sometimes.

“Oh, (Y/N), heya. Long time no see,” a voice spoke behind you.

You were slightly startled, but recognized San’s voice almost immediately, turning around and greeting him, “Hiya Sans. I’ve just been exploring a bit. Curiosity got the best of me or something.”

“Huh. Y’know, I can help you get back,” he offered.

“What?” You were utterly confused.

“Your leg, buddy. And I can tell you’re lost,” explained.

“How did you…?”

“Oh, I’ve been following you for a bit.”

Your eyes went wide. You hated to admit it, but the thought of being followed, even by a skeleton as friendly as Sans, kind of frightened you. Slowly, another realization dawned on you.

“Wait, so if you were following me, and you saw me fall, why didn’t you bother to help me?”

“Cause, trust me, you shoulda seen yourself. If you were me, kiddo, you would’ve stood there laughing like an idiot, too,” he chortled.

“No offense, Sans, but that was a pretty jerk move,” you told him, crossing your arms.

“Yeah, I’m just messing with ya. Truth is, I couldn’t get to you in time, you fell so fast,” he changed his answer rather abruptly.

“Well, if you just plan on arguing with me over why you couldn’t be bothered to help…” You made a move to walk away from him, but felt your ankle gave way again. However, you somehow miraculously prevented another fall.  

“A’ight, (Y/N), come with me. I know a shortcut.”

“Really? Thanks.”

“No prob. Besides, I wouldn’t want you to be bonely,” he continued.

“I really want to stab you right now,” You muttered as you limped behind him.

Without any indication towards whether or not he had heard your quip, he reached back and enveloped your hand with his own. He was cold to the touch, but you weren’t exactly surprised by that (after all, he was a skeleton). What frightened you was his forwardness in doing that, like you weren’t just acquaintances and like you wouldn’t mind at all. You didn’t have any time to tell him about that though, since you took a few steps towards a wall and your breath was cruelly torn from your lungs. Your lungs ached as you gasped for air that simply wasn’t there.

And then, as soon as it had happened, it was over, and you could breathe once more as you stood outside your car. You ripped your hand from Sans’ bony fingers and wrapped your arms around your stomach.

“Holy… woah. What… was that,” you panted.

“Shortcut,” Sans stated simply. “So, can I invite myself over your place?”

You were still too winded to reply to him, so he just said “Nice,” and opened your passenger side door. Hadn’t you locked that?

Oh well, no use worrying about it now. You got inside of the car, and started it, driving towards home.

Mildly awkward silence ensued, and you decided to quietly play your radio. Since there wasn’t much else to do, you just focused on the road, on the other cars passing by. Huh, that one had eyelashes. Oh, that was a nice shade of red. Your next car should be that color. When would you even be able to afford a new car? In a couple hundred years maybe.

This was hopeless.

“So, um, how is Papyrus doing?” you asked Sans, solely for the purpose of hopefully starting conversation. You hated small talk. Despised it.

“He’s always doing good. He can’t wait until we can permanently move to the surface, y’know. The first few houses are nearly done,” he answered.

Silence. The singer on the radio was crooning about getting drunk at a party. They had definitely overdosed on autotune. Who even chose this station? Oh right, you did. What on earth were you thinking?

“How’s Frisk?”

“She’s good, I guess. She was having a hard time at school  for a bit, but I think she’s started doing better. And she seems to get along well with Mettaton, so I guess it’s good that he hasn’t tried to kill her again.”

Oh shoot. Mettaton. He was going to freak out when you came home and saw that you were hurt. Of course you got stuck with the clingy monster.

“Man, major props to you for dealing with that guy and his stupid robutt,” Sans said. You were pretty sure that he was trying to make a joke, so you rewarded him with a half-smile. He really wasn’t that funny at all.

“Eh, we’re all stuck with the hand we’re dealt. If that’s even the saying. But really, he isn’t as bad as you think he is,” you defended.

“Really? I could never hang with such a stuck up jerk, much less live with him.”

“He seriously is a good person once you get to know him, albeit somewhat annoying at times.”

“I can’t believe that you can actually sit here and defend him with a straight face. C’mon, he isn’t here. You don’t need to lie to me, buddy.”

You shrugged, “There seriously isn’t anything I can say about him aside from that he’s kinda like an annoying little kid sometimes. I know he seems crazy and obnoxious and all pompous and whatnot, but that really isn’t what he’s like. And, you know, I, Mettaton is my friend.”

“Whatever you say, kid. Just don’t trust him too much. You seriously can’t put any faith or trust in guys like him,” Sans finished his argument.

“Sure.”

It was quiet once more, the humming of the car drowning out the radio. Sans reached over and turned it off.

“Seriously, I know the kind of stuff he could do to you. Don’t waste your time with someone like him,” Sans continued pressing the issue.

“Listen, I don’t know why you hate him so much, but I don’t want to keep talking about this with you. Really, Sans, you need to chill.”

Suddenly, the world spun a moment before you were in your own driveway again. Your head whipped to Sans, who simply shrugged at you innocently. You rolled your eyes before getting out of the card and slamming the door. Whoops.

Your front door was unlocked, which would have been more troubling if Frisk didn’t launch herself at you the moment you stepped in.  You stumbled backwards, your injured ankle screaming in protest. She showed now sign of relenting however, refusing to release you.

“(Y/N)! Finally! Mettaton has been going crazy! He won't stop making me play Just Dance and I can't keep going,” she complained.

You glanced into the living room and saw that she wasn't lying. It was a bad idea to even leave the house.

“Where’s your determination now, darling?” You heard Mettaton laugh wickedly.

“Hey, I'm still determined, I'm just exhausted and hungry and you refuse to make anything,” she whined. Leaving those two alone was a seriously bad idea.

You rolled your eyes, “Mettaton I swear on all that's holy that if you are trying to kill my sister through some weird dancing battle…”

“Oh, beautiful, I thought that we had an agreement that I wouldn’t do anything to hurt her. You really have that little trust in me?” He asked, seemingly disappointed.

“Yes I do, and I have a right to,” you answered him, going into the kitchen to heat up something for Frisk to eat. Sans followed you into the kitchen, sitting expectantly at the table. You turned and saw him, resulting in a sigh.

“You too?” you asked.

“Yup, I could use a good burger or somethin’,” he replied.

“You know what, I’ll just go somewhere to pick up lunch,” you resigned yourself to your fate, going back to the foyer and getting the car keys.

Suddenly Mettaton was beside you, “Perhaps you could take me along, darling?”

At first you were startled by his abrupt presence, “Goodness, Glitterbot, how did you do that?”

“Do what? Did I stun you with my beauty? I’m afraid I can’t help it, sweetheart,” he spoke smoothly.

You had completely forgotten why you even missed him. Dismissively, you shook your head.

“(Y/N) are you going or not?” Frisk asked, annoyed.

“Fine, fine. Just make sure that you don’t get up to anything weird. If I come back and this house is destroyed-”

“Fuggedaboutit, buddy, I’ll keep her in check,” Sans lazily answered you.

“This is a terrible idea,” you mumbled to yourself before walking out the door to your car. As you got to the driveway, you heard a click-clack-click-clack behind you that you had learned to recognize by now.

“Beautiful! Slow down, wait for me!”

You stopped, “Why are you actually coming with me?”

“Well, darling, Frisk told me this ridiculous idea that Sans hates me- as if anyone could- and suggested that I go with you,” he explained.

“Fine,” you sighed, not actually annoyed, “Just try not to die in the car.”

“Car?”

“How else do you think we’ll get there?” You opened the door, prompting him to get in.

The whole time his fan whirrrrrred at double, if not triple, speed. He did not say a word, sitting silently with his fists clenched and his legs tightly crossed. At the first red light that you came upon, you turned to make sure that was okay.

He was not.

So, silently, almost instinctively, you reached over to him and pried his closest hand open. You thought nothing of it, protectively interlocking your fingers with his. When the light turned green you gave his hand a reassuring squeeze before returning to the steering wheel.  He giggled softly beside you.

You glanced over with a small amused smile, “What?”

“It was rather presumptuous of you to treat a star so forwardly, darling,”

You rolled your eyes and he pulled your hand off of the wheel to hold his again. For some reason, no little voice in your head screamed in protest. The argument of being ‘just friends’ and that it would be weird to treat him like that was gone for now. It worried you that you weren’t worried.

Perhaps you thought a little too much.

The two of you fell into silence, a far more comfortable silence than you had experienced earlier in the day. There simply wasn’t a need to turn on the radio or strike up any conversation or small talk, You were fine just quietly driving with your hand in his as he hummed a quiet tune, perhaps to soothe himself, perhaps to show off, or maybe because he felt uneasy with the silence. You hoped it wasn't the last and suspected it was the first.

You pulled into the drive through of (Favorite fast food restaurant) and ordered your simple order, repeating yourself about five times because it sounded like the person speaking to you had been gagged or something similar. After a few solid minutes of that, you were instructed to pull forward. At least, you  thought you were. “Mrrfrmnhhhfrn” was not exactly the clearest of directions. You nearly had to pry your hand from Mettaton’s grasp in order to retrieve the bags of food from the young  attendant who, surprisingly, actually could speak in coherent sentences. Mettaton seemed to watch the transaction in silent fascination.

“Are you okay?” You asked him as you pulled away, going back the way you had come, “You were looking at that poor boy like he had three heads or something.”

“Is there something odd about having more than one head?” He asked, bewildered.

Huh, you actually hadn’t considered that the point of the simile might be completely moot, since he was a monster and all. You had almost forgotten. It wasn’t something you thought about that often. Mettaton wasn’t your “monster” friend or your “robot” friend or your “robot monster” friend. He was just your-

He was just Mettaton.

“I dunno, you were just looking at him weird.”

“Well, darling.” You could already tell that this would be an unnecessarily long answer. “I realized that this whole ‘drive through’ concept will be wonderful for the MTT Brand! The MTT Restaurant could have one of these drive throughs, and so could the MTT-Brand Burger Emporium! It’s an absolutely fabulous concept!” He explained.

You neglected to mention how unoriginal the naming of his properties was, and instead asked, “You didn’t have that in the Underground?”

“Of course not! We didn’t have cars, so this would be useless. I did try to make my own cars once, by having Dr. Alphys design them for me, they were never sold.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, unfortunately, I had designed them so fabulously that customers were too overwhelmed by the pressure of owning something so magnificent,” he finished.

Silence, aside from the quiet humming. And it was like that for the rest of the way home.

And that was fine.