[Emotions like that were the hardest to vocalize. Emotions in general were difficult, though the Ascian could manage a good righteous fury without much trouble. But vulnerability, the kinder aspects of sentimentality- he had no practice there, no natural inclination. No shyness, at least, but no experience- and while he was yet unsure as to what he thought about having to attempt it at all, he was willing to try, when he had motivation like this ahead of him. To see Mettaton's response to it made the discomfort worthwhile.
Since for all of his own hurt, it didn't grate on him to hear Mettaton's voice carried on a laugh, the sounds he made when cheerful and pleased; that was just how he usually was, and Emet-Selch loved him for that too. Even when it could annoy, this wasn't one of those contexts, and he appreciated instead the way the idol took all of this emotional intensity, how he treated and interpreted it. Even when it led to responses that he could never hope to understand.
The resulting lust, though, they could share- a demonstration of ever more insistent physical desire, a more immediate way of demonstrating love. Being kissed like that only reminded him of it, his moan low against Mettaton's mouth, swiping back at his own lip with his tongue before the idol pulls back, only to be distracted once more.
A distraction that was in itself satisfactory; Mettaton licking at his shoulder brought a dull sting with it, the injury only mildly peeved at being prodded, though the reminder of its existence has Emet-Selch shiver again. Even if any witch's blood was delectable to monsters, he wondered how that flavor registered, what magic tasted like to them. And he fully expected that Mettaton would prefer his own over any other's, despite that being an absurd thing to assume or want.
The brief rustling and shifting as Mettaton feels for lube has Emet-Selch glancing to the side, muscles tensing, his exhalation heavy as he realized what he was reaching for. Attention flitting back to the other man's face at the sound of his voice, he's both pleased and a bit touched that Mettaton had planned at all ahead, as the Ascian had expected to have to conjure up something appropriate. Nothing that would've even qualified as a hassle, but he appreciated the anticipation inherent in the gesture.
And of just... being cared for. It's enough to make his heart hurt again.
It's also enough to sustain him for those unfortunate few moments when Mettaton needed to move away from him enough to get his pants the rest of the way off, the Ascian doing his best to shift hips and wriggle legs in a helpful and encouraging manner. Fortunately, success is quickly attained, and on having one leg pulled up around his lover's hip, he doesn't hesitate to latch on, the other following suit before he even has time to think about what he's doing. The position in itself has him humming softly against Mettaton's lips, when the idol leans over and returns to them, a sound and thought interrupted by a sharp intake of breath at the drag of Mettaton's erection against him, the pressure against his own cock. His body twitches into it, finding it hard to keep still.
Mettaton was so good at leaving him impatient and wanting- neither being things he was at all used to experiencing. Not even something long dead or disused, but never provoked at all, and it was unsettling still to feel at all alive. An awareness that cycles back into emotional heat, an affection continually sustained by moments like this.
But Mettaton's cock was so close and so hard, and he longed to feel it even closer, to feel him so deeply, to be filled completely with him. His legs tighten around him for a moment, betraying that keenness- and clearly not caring about being blatant in his desire for him.]
Only- only just about acceptable....
[Voice more taut that he expected, his hands reach up to skim along Mettaton's sides, a light and warm stroke over skin.]
no subject
Since for all of his own hurt, it didn't grate on him to hear Mettaton's voice carried on a laugh, the sounds he made when cheerful and pleased; that was just how he usually was, and Emet-Selch loved him for that too. Even when it could annoy, this wasn't one of those contexts, and he appreciated instead the way the idol took all of this emotional intensity, how he treated and interpreted it. Even when it led to responses that he could never hope to understand.
The resulting lust, though, they could share- a demonstration of ever more insistent physical desire, a more immediate way of demonstrating love. Being kissed like that only reminded him of it, his moan low against Mettaton's mouth, swiping back at his own lip with his tongue before the idol pulls back, only to be distracted once more.
A distraction that was in itself satisfactory; Mettaton licking at his shoulder brought a dull sting with it, the injury only mildly peeved at being prodded, though the reminder of its existence has Emet-Selch shiver again. Even if any witch's blood was delectable to monsters, he wondered how that flavor registered, what magic tasted like to them. And he fully expected that Mettaton would prefer his own over any other's, despite that being an absurd thing to assume or want.
The brief rustling and shifting as Mettaton feels for lube has Emet-Selch glancing to the side, muscles tensing, his exhalation heavy as he realized what he was reaching for. Attention flitting back to the other man's face at the sound of his voice, he's both pleased and a bit touched that Mettaton had planned at all ahead, as the Ascian had expected to have to conjure up something appropriate. Nothing that would've even qualified as a hassle, but he appreciated the anticipation inherent in the gesture.
And of just... being cared for. It's enough to make his heart hurt again.
It's also enough to sustain him for those unfortunate few moments when Mettaton needed to move away from him enough to get his pants the rest of the way off, the Ascian doing his best to shift hips and wriggle legs in a helpful and encouraging manner. Fortunately, success is quickly attained, and on having one leg pulled up around his lover's hip, he doesn't hesitate to latch on, the other following suit before he even has time to think about what he's doing. The position in itself has him humming softly against Mettaton's lips, when the idol leans over and returns to them, a sound and thought interrupted by a sharp intake of breath at the drag of Mettaton's erection against him, the pressure against his own cock. His body twitches into it, finding it hard to keep still.
Mettaton was so good at leaving him impatient and wanting- neither being things he was at all used to experiencing. Not even something long dead or disused, but never provoked at all, and it was unsettling still to feel at all alive. An awareness that cycles back into emotional heat, an affection continually sustained by moments like this.
But Mettaton's cock was so close and so hard, and he longed to feel it even closer, to feel him so deeply, to be filled completely with him. His legs tighten around him for a moment, betraying that keenness- and clearly not caring about being blatant in his desire for him.]
Only- only just about acceptable....
[Voice more taut that he expected, his hands reach up to skim along Mettaton's sides, a light and warm stroke over skin.]