[Ah, peer pressure. There's just nothing like it, is there?

Thanks to it, Mettaton is free! How wonderful!! There's that strange, mechanical hum again as Mettaton leans in and wraps his arms around his "savior" and buries his face in his neck.] Thank you, honeysuckle, [he whispers, hiding the smile on his face, but not the one in his voice,] It was a good effort. Maybe next time.

[...it's quick and chaste and can hardly be called romantic, but, for a brief moment, he presses his lips against the corner of the other's mouth.

Before he can get a reaction, he's already pulling away, back to being scared and quiet "Sebastian." He's waving away the people brave enough to leave their cover and crowd him.]

No, no... i-it's okay, I'm fine... We'll all be fine, just... Let's just get this covered...

[He turns to Keats again. Wink.]