[He smirks, knowing that he's asking a lot. Presumptuous, even, which is confirmed by the Ascian. But he likes that. Why wouldn't a star think he could simply take a piece of somebody else for himself?
It almost surprises him to hear that Emet-Selch didn't figure himself as one with anything to take, when he sees so much he'd be delighted to have: the look of tenderness that goes guarded behind sharp eyes, the sounds he makes when kisses him beyond sense, and the way he looks when Mettaton can tell that he's found something of interest to occupy his attentions.
The hand over Emet-Selch's heart moves up to admire his features, fingers stroking the angle of his jaw, the softness of his cheek, and... his thumb freezes at the outer corner of Emet-Selch's eye, recalling that the yellow is truly his.]
To you. But I can't think of a thing less pleasant than something I want, Hades, darling. And if that something is you...
[Crystal, diamond, gold, all things he's found himself arrested by even more than usual since transforming, and this feels more enticing, like having a piece of his very soul. The robot leans on to press a kiss to Emet-Selch's lips, deliberate and covetous in how he captures the other man's lower lip between his, willing to take as much as Emet-Selch has available.
In speaking again, he does it against his Bonded's lips]
And... I think I've already taken from you, besides. But I'll never turn down the offer for more... As much as you have available to me. Ephemeral as our arrangement's made to be... I couldn't possibly forget it.
[A thought occurs to him. He didn't come here anticipating that he'd bed Emet-Selch, no, but he also doesn't know if he should be standing on that leg of his. How slow to people heal, anyway? How quickly? The hand against Emet-Selch's spine moves further south, suddenly, veering off to the side so as to rest firmly against the hip of his right leg.
He gives him a gentle squeeze, appreciating the give of tissue around the back of Emet-Selch's hip. There's even a little push in the direction of his bed, at least so that he can seat him there.]
no subject
It almost surprises him to hear that Emet-Selch didn't figure himself as one with anything to take, when he sees so much he'd be delighted to have: the look of tenderness that goes guarded behind sharp eyes, the sounds he makes when kisses him beyond sense, and the way he looks when Mettaton can tell that he's found something of interest to occupy his attentions.
The hand over Emet-Selch's heart moves up to admire his features, fingers stroking the angle of his jaw, the softness of his cheek, and... his thumb freezes at the outer corner of Emet-Selch's eye, recalling that the yellow is truly his.]
To you. But I can't think of a thing less pleasant than something I want, Hades, darling. And if that something is you...
[Crystal, diamond, gold, all things he's found himself arrested by even more than usual since transforming, and this feels more enticing, like having a piece of his very soul. The robot leans on to press a kiss to Emet-Selch's lips, deliberate and covetous in how he captures the other man's lower lip between his, willing to take as much as Emet-Selch has available.
In speaking again, he does it against his Bonded's lips]
And... I think I've already taken from you, besides. But I'll never turn down the offer for more... As much as you have available to me. Ephemeral as our arrangement's made to be... I couldn't possibly forget it.
[A thought occurs to him. He didn't come here anticipating that he'd bed Emet-Selch, no, but he also doesn't know if he should be standing on that leg of his. How slow to people heal, anyway? How quickly? The hand against Emet-Selch's spine moves further south, suddenly, veering off to the side so as to rest firmly against the hip of his right leg.
He gives him a gentle squeeze, appreciating the give of tissue around the back of Emet-Selch's hip. There's even a little push in the direction of his bed, at least so that he can seat him there.]