Mettaton looks down at Sans for another long moment without saying anything. Discomfort intensifies.

Then he shakes his head, looking away with a soft laugh. "...now I remember why I liked having you as my agent. You never worshiped me. You were the one I could count on to be honest. When I wanted you to be."

Which wasn't often, but it was sometimes. This might be turning into one of those times. He's not sure yet.