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[Mm-mmm is about the closest approximation of a noise to leave Mettaton's lips as he continues to pepper Keats' face with affection. Shut up. No explaining, just this. He reaches down to grab the other man's hands, pulling them up and into his own hair before finding the other's face again.

Mettaton already knew his lips were soft, he knew that, knew the stubble on his face actually implied how it felt with its name, but... but this is so much different than just being a floating heart.

Gravity is beginning to win out against him and his suddenly weak knees, but he doesn't care. He lets it drag him further into Keats' chest as he tangles his fingers into that mousy-brown hair he's been dying to feel for forever, tracing the curve of his jaw with his lips. His chest his warm. His hands are warm. His face is burning. Mettaton can still feel the tears trailing down his own face and it's strange, to feel so strong and actually have his body reflect it, but doesn't take away from this.

He's in the middle of kissing his neck when a shot rings out. The laser-blast crops close enough for him to feel the heat of it (haha!! He can FEEL IT!!) and Mettaton barely manages to turn himself to face the offending attacker between his wobbly legs and clinging arms.]

Do you MIND?!?!

[He's already summoning bombs. This is COMPLETELY rude!!]

[Surprise and confusion melt quickly into satisfaction. He's still a little shocked, of course, and part of him thinks this must be a particularly vivid dream, but there's something about this that pulls him in, clouds his mind in a good way. He gives up trying to get answers, and just gives in. His fingers tangle in Mettaton's hair and he attempts to kiss back, lips pressing against Mettaton's forehead and cheeks and lips with a thrill that moves through his whole body.]

[This isn't like the awkward kiss he gave Mettaton after getting drunk. This is something more. He can feel Mettaton's tears, can feel the way he tenses, moves, starting to move downwards. Keats' cheeks are still bright red, like he's a schoolboy whose just been caught in the act of something scandalous. But there's nobody around. He's not going to stop him, really, not when it feels this good.]

[But something else stops him. Keats feels a very, very sharp twinge of annoyance when the laser hits nearby - instantly, his eyes flare up with their eerie purple glow, his lips drawn back in a scowl.]

Oh, the nerve-!

[He was just getting into it! Keats steps back slightly only so he can have a hand free to summon a Folk, something large and dragon-like appearing before him before large shards of ice rain heavily down upon the offending robot. Nobody is going to stop him from getting this. Nobody.]

Edited 2017-05-02 23:23 (UTC)

["The nerve" is right!! Who do they think they are, breaking into their scene?! They were having a MOMENT!! It was romantic!! It was DRAMATIC!! Now it's just the satisfaction of watching the man you're dating freeze a robot in thick ice and your own bombs shattering it into pieces.

...Sigh... This won't be the only one, will it...?]

Okay. Okay... We... This is bad timing, I know. I... [Oh god, he can barely hold himself up with that hand still in his hair and the warmth all over his body. He wants to stay right where he is. This is so new. This is so... perfect and wonderful!! He doesn't want to move, but..!

OKAY... Alright!!

There's a miserable shift of magic as his form goes back to being tall, unfeeling, and metal. He has to. They can't save the day AND smooch tirelessly at the same time. He has to be responsible.]

We have to split up. I can't look at your face without wanting to kiss it, so we're going to have to put a pin in this.

[...mostly responsible.]

Break everything, then meet back in my room?

[It kind of is a jolt to remember that yes, they're technically in the middle of a war, here. Which is upsetting, really, because as much as Keats likes a good scuffle, he really liked the kissing more.]

...Very well. [He says, pulling back with a loud sigh.] You really do need to explain to me the, er, change.

[Since that is ENTIRELY NEW and he needs an explanation for it.]

Anyways, that sounds alright with me. [Keats grumbles - ugh, how long until this would be over? He already doesn't want to deal with this.]

I do hope this won't take too long...

Well, we'll be well motivated to make sure it doesn't, eh? [God he wants to smooch him again. This isn't faaaaaaaair!!!

Out of either mercy or affection, Mettaton finally reaches behind his back and pulls out a set of familiar glasses. He shoves them into Keats' chest in lieu of a kiss goodbye, then turns on his heel and runs off and into the fray.

It does, unfortunately, take too long.

It takes 24 hours too long.

Eventually, once the shield comes back up, it doesn't take long for Mettaton to find who he's looking for. He grabs Keats by the hand, already shaking with anger for having to wait this long, and drags him back toward the dorms.

He tries to summon his magic once they're in his room, attempting to switch forms.

...

........

................................................he's not switching forms. He's not- how is he not--

...his battery is too low. The fighting lowered his battery. He can't switch.

There's a dull thud as Mettaton collapses to the floor, face blank.

Kill him.]

[HIS GLASSES HAVE COME HOME. Not only is his boyfriend kissing him but he has gotten his glasses back.]

[This really MUST be a dream.]

[He watches as Mettaton races off, before putting his glasses back on his face where they belong before moving to rip apart any robot who is unfortunate enough to come near.]

[The next 24 hours is the longest 24 hours he has ever felt in his life, because every other minute he can't stop thinking about the kissing. It's like a virus, permeating his mind. When Mettaton finally finds him, he doesn't even protest, moving along with him into the room, and...]

[Uh.]

[Looks like kissing is NOT going to be happening.]

Oh, dear. [He bends down, trying to grab Mettaton to try to tug him back up.] Is...is everything okay?

[No. Everything is bad. Everything is terrible. He's waited years to feel and months to kiss this idiot and now here he is, having tasted heaven for one, blissful moment and now he has to wait again. Why not just set him on fire? It's not like he deserves this or anything.

He lays prone on the floor, despite Keats' tugging. Like this, he's just a ton of metal. He stares at the other man, distraught and defeated.]

I can't change forms. I don't have enough charge.

[The next sentence out of his mouth sounds more pained than when he finally confessed what he really was.]

It's going to take hours.

Oh.

[Is all he can say. Oh. In that one word, one can almost see his heart plummeting to the ground in sheer disappointment. ]

I guess we'll just have to...wait.

[He says, flatly. It's strange. He never needed physical affection, he almost always shied away from it, but having that brief, fiery moment and then being told he has to wait for him to try that again? It's not a very happy thought.]

[He actually moves to sit down next to Mettaton with a sigh.]

...Uh, so, when did you get it? That new form?

[Yeah. Yeah. Now they're both miserable. THANKS, Zymandis.

Mettaton limply removes his charging cable from the back of his neck and out-stretches his arm to plug himself into a wall. This is demeaning. This is pure torture. He watches Keats sit next to him and pitifully paws at one of his hands, wanting to hold it. He can't feel it, not right now, but he knows what it feels like. That's almost good enough.]

When we arrived in Oska. It was a gift from ALASTAIR. Ha... Like I said. Timing, right?

I'm sorry...

A gift from ALASTAIR? Ah, let me guess. You can feel things, now?

[He bets that Mettaton wouldn't be so willing to throw himself into Smoochsville if he couldn't feel them all, after all. He reaches forward and squeezes Mettaton's hand, as if in a reassuring gesture.]

It's alright. I guess we'll just have to be patient.

[A pause. His cheeks are reddening, again.]

I've...I've never had somebody kiss me like that, before.

[Aww, there's that stupid red face he adores so much. It finally manages to get a smile back on Mettaton's own face, his eyes lidded as he watches their hands tangle together.]

Gasp! No. You?! Mr. Prickles? Your attitude is already Anti-Kiss technology - I can't imagine anyone getting past that, none the less the tech you're wearing on your chin.

[His free hand snakes up to tap Keats on the nose. His smile is still genuine despite the teasing.]

...I never kissed anyone like that before.

Edited 2017-05-03 00:27 (UTC)

Oh, please. I'm a diamond in the rough, if I do say so myself. Not my fault if people don't see that.

[He's smirking as Mettaton pokes him in the nose, rubbing at it after with a fond look.]

I can't imagine it. What is it like? I mean, I taking being able to feel things for granted, so it's a bit odd for me to imagine experiencing that all at once.

["Diamond in the rough-" oh, boo. Boo!

Mettaton's laughing as this nerd goes on, asking about... well. That.]

Ha... It's... [He bites his lip for a moment, a useless gesture in this form, considering.

How do you explain this to someone who's always been able feel?]

...You know when you're underwater, and everything is dark and muffled? You know where you are, but it's. [Sigh.] It's not right. You don't belong there. [He's tugging on Keats' fingers again.] And then you lift your head out of the water and there's finally light and that beautiful rush of sound hits you.

It's kind of like that.

Like a revelation.

[He can understand that, in a way. His thumb moves along Mettaton's hand, stroking it absentmindedly.]

...Can you feel pain, too?

[Oh?]

I don't know. Haven't tried it yet.

[Wink.]

[He just stares at Mettaton for a moment, before letting out a short laugh.]

You really won't like it. [Oh, Mettaton. You've got a big storm coming.] Trust me, you won't.

When you're deaf, you'll even take hearing nails on a chalkboard if it gives you something. [He isn't going to mention that he HAS felt pain, during his fight with Frisk. It was... god, even that was embarrassingly refreshing.

...at least, it was until his limbs blew off.

Sigh.]

Well! Any ideas, cupcake? We're going to be here for a while, if you're looking for that goodnight kiss.

Ah, I'd never do that if I could. I'd go for all the good experiences, you know? Though, I guess I could see your point. I'd be curious enough to see what any kind of sensation was like...

[He lets out a huff, resting his chin in the palm of his free hand, thinking.]

I don't know. Maybe we could just talk? Since we have nothing better to do.

[Mettaton was close to saying something profound, something like "how do you know to appreciate the good if you never experience the bad?", but the topic changes. He listens, humming slightly, before squirming on the floor to get closer. He rests his head in the other man's lap.]

Oh, alright. If you insist. Far be it for me to suggest otherwise when you have the voice of a song.

[Hee.]

A song sung by someone I'm certain is pretending to know the language they're singing, but still. Beautiful none the less.

[He's smiling as Mettaton shifts himself up to his lap, even reaching forward to rest his hand on top of the other's head, but that smile disappears in an instant.]

What's that supposed to mean? [Huffs!] I'm not pretending to do anything. This is how I've always talked.

Yeah, yeah, [he grins.] Tell me about the Ireland again, George.

Honestly, just because I don't sound like some giddy leprechaun from TV...

[He brushes some of the hair out of Mettaton's face, fingertips against the cold, unfeeling metal. Soon, he'll feel that warmth again. Soon...]

Ireland? It's not especially large. It's only an island. so we've got some gorgeous coastlines. Beaches are nice, but we're really known for our cliffs. Those are a sight to see. They're probably in every postcard you can get your tourist hands on. Funny...I rather miss those vistas, even if I didn't see too much of them.

[A soft whine leaves Mettaton's speakers at the empty gesture with his hair. At least now he can see a bit more through both of his eyes. The metal surrounding his right eye is newer than the left, leaving a noticeable shift in color from one half of his face to the next. There's even a slight color-difference in his right eye; it's more pale than the dark black his "pupil" usually is.

Eventually... Come on, charge...]

Cliffs... Like mountains?

[He blinks and projects a gray image of what he imagines based on Keats' description. Beaches and mountains...?]

Ha, no. Not quite.

[He says, with a slight click of his tongue.]

It's not cliffs like mountains. It's more like...most things are on a higher level. You could be walking through a nice field before it suddenly drops off into a steep cliff, down to the water.

[It's odd, how he honestly hasn't seen that much of the place he should technically come from, and yet how strangely homesick he feels.]

It's rather dangerous, actually. You could fall to your death if you aren't careful. They're around...twenty or more feet high from the water, sometimes?

Oh... [Huh.

Another blink, and his interpretation shifts again. High ground and steep drops into the water... Is this closer?]

There's not a lot of that Underground. [Obviously.] There's some steep drops in Waterfall, but nothing that would kill you.

[...well.]

I think. It wasn't really a problem for me.

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