[Sounding blissful, the Puca leans into their kiss with a renewed longing. His smile is fond while he thinking about what an interesting person Emet-Selch is, though terribly loving. Reliable, trustworthy, unique. Frustrating, vulnerable yet deliberate... He's a totally different person from himself, a delightful contrast clever in his company. Company which he keeps to himself.
His mind could go on, but the buzzing of contact is ever present, fixated on their kiss. Mettaton opens his eye half-way, but this close up, it's difficult to meet his the gaze of his left eye with his own. Shame, that it's both of their right eyes that have some defect. He leans toward the Ascian's fingers and rubs his face against them — he appreciates his gentleness, but he couldn't help himself, covetous as he is.]
I'd call it impossible... knowing us. Yes... You're right. When I want something, I get my way. I'm persistent. [Or, in Emet-Selch's words, troublesome.] And trying to stop you... Oh my. Chilling. Though I couldn't put up much of a fight against you, dear...
[With a self-satisfied smirk, he thinks about how he would gladly take unending kisses from his Bonded, if he weren't already occupied by him.
He presses another kiss to the Ascian's lips, shifting his body ever closer to Emet-Selch's with a need. His fingers rub into his back some more with a tightening grip, but one of his arms snakes up so that his hand might wander up the back of his neck and entwine in his dark hair, comfortably.]
no subject
[Sounding blissful, the Puca leans into their kiss with a renewed longing. His smile is fond while he thinking about what an interesting person Emet-Selch is, though terribly loving. Reliable, trustworthy, unique. Frustrating, vulnerable yet deliberate... He's a totally different person from himself, a delightful contrast clever in his company. Company which he keeps to himself.
His mind could go on, but the buzzing of contact is ever present, fixated on their kiss. Mettaton opens his eye half-way, but this close up, it's difficult to meet his the gaze of his left eye with his own. Shame, that it's both of their right eyes that have some defect. He leans toward the Ascian's fingers and rubs his face against them — he appreciates his gentleness, but he couldn't help himself, covetous as he is.]
I'd call it impossible... knowing us. Yes... You're right. When I want something, I get my way. I'm persistent. [Or, in Emet-Selch's words, troublesome.] And trying to stop you... Oh my. Chilling. Though I couldn't put up much of a fight against you, dear...
[With a self-satisfied smirk, he thinks about how he would gladly take unending kisses from his Bonded, if he weren't already occupied by him.
He presses another kiss to the Ascian's lips, shifting his body ever closer to Emet-Selch's with a need. His fingers rub into his back some more with a tightening grip, but one of his arms snakes up so that his hand might wander up the back of his neck and entwine in his dark hair, comfortably.]