‘Cause Every Time We Touch

‘Cause every time we touch

I get this feeling

OMGAAAA IM LOVING THIS METALOR FANFIC IM SCREAMMING SSOO ADORABLLE!!!🩷🩷😍😍

🌼🔮Stuck with the Soggy Cat🔮🌼

-------------------------------------

Part 4:

🌟💕The Realization💕🌟

Meta Knight had fought gods.

He had flown into warzones, faced ancient beasts, stood toe-to-toe with nightmares made real, but NOTHING could have prepared him for the absolute disarray one reformed cat wizard could bring into his home.

Magolor was currently upside down on the couch.

"Why are you like this?" Meta Knight asked, arms crossed.

"I read somewhere that increasing blood flow to the head boosts creativity." Magolor said, voice muffled by the blanket he'd tangled himself in. "I'm brainstorming soup recipes."

Meta Knight stared at him for a long moment.

"I'm going to make tea."

"Don't forget the one I like!"

"You like every tea."

"Exactly, don't forget it!"

Meta Knight disappeared into the kitchen, and as the kettle began to boil, he leaned against the counter and closed his eyes.

It had been a quiet day. No strange mushrooms. No cosmic mishaps. Just Magolor... being Magolor. Lounging around the house, and humming while he cleaned up the mess he made five minutes earlier. Laughing. Talking.

And something about it all (about him) had started to take up more and more space in Meta Knight's chest.

The way he smiled now softer than it used to be. The way he still rambled, but with less bravado and more honesty. The way he never hesitated to plop down beside Meta Knight on the couch like he belonged there.

Like he'd always belonged there.

Meta Knight poured the tea slowly.

When he returned to the living room, Magolor had shifted. He was no longer upside down. He was curled up under the blanket, ears twitching gently, fast asleep with his head on a pillow and his fingers loosely holding a crumpled recipe note.

Meta Knight stood there for a moment, tea in hand, completely still.

His heart did something weird.

He set the tea down.

Walked over.

Sat on the couch beside him.

The warmth from Magolor's small, curled-up form radiated softly. The room was quiet.

Safe.

Meta Knight told himself he was just going to sit for a minute. Just long enough to rest.

Then Magolor stirred, blinked up at him sleepily, and mumbled, "Mmmh... you smell nice..."

Meta Knight froze.

Magolor didn't even open his eyes. He just scooted closer and (without a hint of hesitation) rested his head against Meta Knight's side, and stayed there.

Meta Knight's entire brain stopped working.

This was fine. This was completely fine. There was a tiny creature nuzzling into his cape and making the softest purring sound imaginable and calling him nice-smelling and why was this suddenly more terrifying than fighting galactic horrors!?

He went to move.

Magolor let out a soft sigh and whispered, "Stay..."

Meta Knight didn't move.

He stared straight ahead at the wall for a solid ten minutes while his heart beat loud enough to summon a small army.

Eventually he let himself relax... Just a little.

His wing shifted to drape over Magolor, light and protective, and he rested a gloved hand gently on top of the little wizard's sleeping form.

"...You're trouble..." he murmured.

Magolor, still half-asleep, smiled against his side.

But Meta Knight didn't pull away.

Not this time.

Magolor shifted again eventually.

Still curled up against Meta Knight, he mumbled something incomprehensible and reached out blindly with one hand.

Meta Knight glanced down just as Magolor’s fingers brushed against his glove—then curled around it.

Gently. Loosely. Like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Meta Knight’s breath caught.

He didn’t move.

He COULDN'T move.

Magolor’s hand was small, warm even through the fabric, and now very, very firmly holding his.

Meta Knight stared at the tiny intertwined fingers like they were some kind of ancient riddle he hadn’t trained for. The last boss in a game he didn’t know he was playing. His brain was looping one sound on repeat: he’s holding my hand he’s holding my hand he’s holding my—

It was fine. It was perfectly, completely fine. It was just—Magolor was asleep, probably not even conscious of what he was doing. The hand-holding didn’t mean anything... RIGHT???

Except that Magolor’s fingers gave the tiniest little squeeze.

Meta Knight's soul launched itself into the sun.

His wings twitched. His mask felt too warm. His entire body felt like it had been plugged into some high-voltage embarrassment circuit.

And yet… he didn’t let go.

For several long minutes, they stayed like that: one fast asleep, one staring at absolutely nothing with the intensity of someone experiencing an emotional hurricane in complete silence.

Then, finally, Magolor stirred again.

He blinked slowly, sleep-mussed and bleary-eyed, and looked up at their joined hands.

There was a beat.

His eyes widened.

Meta Knight, already on the brink of combustion, immediately looked away.

"I—uh—you—" Magolor's voice cracked. His ears went pink. "Did I—?"

"You were asleep." Meta Knight said quickly, voice a little too even.

"O-oh." Magolor looked back down at their hands.

He didn’t let go.

Meta Knight didn’t either.

"...Is this okay?" Magolor asked softly.

Meta Knight hesitated. Just a breath. Then:

"...Yes."

And for once, Magolor didn’t make a joke.

He just smiled—small and real—and rested his head back against Meta Knight’s side.

"...I... um... actually can't believe you still stayed..." he said, a little surprised.

Meta Knight looked down at him. “You asked me to.”

Magolor paused, then grinned sleepily. “Yeah, but usually you grumble about it and try to pretend you’re not secretly a huge softie.”

“I’m NOT a huge softie.” Meta Knight said immediately.

Magolor raised an eyebrow.

“You’re literally holding my hand.”

Meta Knight looked away, flustered. “You’re the one who grabbed mine.”

“And you haven’t let go.”

“Hush.”

Magolor snorted. A real bright little laugh. His fingers gave another squeeze—playful this time, not sleepy.
It was such a simple gesture, but Meta Knight felt it like a spell.

Magolor tilted his head slightly, studying him.

There was a flicker of something thoughtful behind his gaze.

“Y’know…” he said slowly. “You don’t have to keep pretending you don’t like me.”

Meta Knight froze.
Time stopped. The world stopped. The galaxy stopped.

Magolor blinked, suddenly realizing what he’d just said.

“I-I mean—!!” he flailed, ears flapping, voice jumping an octave. “Not like like like! I meant—like, tolerate! Or, y’know, not hate! Like—friendly-like!!”

Meta Knight turned to look at him. Slowly. Calmly.
Internally screaming.

“…Do you always ramble this much when you're nervous?” he asked, voice low but not unkind.

Magolor immediately buried his face in the pillow.
“I’m going back to sleep...” he mumbled. “This is too embarrassing. Leave me to perish.”

Meta Knight was quiet for a long moment.

Then—

“...For the record...” he said softly, “I do like you.”

Magolor peeked out from the pillow, eyes wide and ears very pink. “…What kind of like are we talking here?”

Meta Knight didn’t answer.

He just squeezed Magolor’s hand, gentle and certain.

And Magolor’s smile bloomed like spring.🌷💕✨

-------------

Ahem! May I interest you in some more... METALOR!?!? 💕🌷

Part 4 is here!!!!! I CAN'T wait to show you what part 5 is about! I actually enjoy making stories! After this one is done I wouldn't mind making more every now and then. (Along with art of course) 🥹🌷 Sorry part 4 was kind of long 😅 ...anyways - LETS GOOOOOO!!!!

🌷💕🪐🌟✨🌏