[Emet-Selch could somehow manage to mollify Mettaton even without satisfying any demands of his, he thought. The way he leans into his touch, a throat so sore and raw as his presentation of himself (both physically and by Bond), has Mettaton sparing him a smile that could only be described as lovesick, and he imagines the way his heart should react to that. He remembers finding it so fascinating that a crucial muscle could be made to falter by feelings of adoration and infatuation... And he's sure then that his heart would be skipping beats if he only had one. An addicting sensation that demonstrates itself in no way at all in his robotic body, no part to respond to feelings of love save for his own soul and consciousness, unless the heat of his core counted. He can't feel that, however, even though it instills in him a feeling of restlessness.
Whether it was by an appeal to Mettaton's emotions or by giving over some of his potent, intoxicating blood, Mettaton would inevitably be calmed at his treatment, always. Even like this, even when he's finding himself so frequently angered (and not at all questioning why that might be), Emet-Selch could tide him over with blood and sweet words... But what of now, where his words failed him?
As it turns out, he'd just have to read his lips. 'Somewhat,' he says, and the robot smiles some more.]
Only somewhat. Haha... I'll be gentle with you.
[With him against his shoulder, he leans down to kiss his cheek. He wraps his arms fully around Emet-Selch: tightly, winding, letting one of his arms slip down to cover more of his back. Secure and possessive—]
Oh...
[But there's the sensation of Emet-Selch shifting in his lap, Mettaton's cock demonstrating its own signs of use and overuse. He's terribly sensitive, but Emet-Selch's movement's gentle enough to not overwhelm him, at least. His lover shivers and tenses because of it, holding tight around his cock, which Mettaton's made to focus on with greater attention and an even greater sigh.
With them both like this... Yes, a sixth round was in order, Mettaton decides whimsically. Even the thought has him thrilled, his skewed ears perking up, feeling perfectly at home held within his Bonded like this. He holds Emet-Selch in his arms while his lover clings to his waist in turn, keeping his cock nestled inside of his body: warm and tight, each movement and response on his lover's part something for him to enjoy.
As they are, however... Against an unyielding floor, Mettaton can hardly rock his hips into Emet-Selch (though he tries), and he deserves all of the rubbing he can get. He clicks his tongue. His voice is not at all affected by use, smooth and sultry and close to Emet-Selch's ear.]
You always did say you'd never want me to stop. You mean it. [A small laugh remains in his throat, fondness overwhelming him at the man he holds in his arms. He sighs.] If I move us to the bed, you'll spare some of that strength to cling to my hips, won't you?
[Another mercy spared. Mettaton doesn't want to withdraw from him at all, and he feels for Emet-Selch's back and hips. He wants to lay them both down, wants to grab Emet-Selch's ass and force him to ride him with the manipulation of hands against his hips and his ass, where Emet-Selch could be viewed by Mettaton and Mettaton, by Emet-Selch. He finds himself that much more riled up, even feeling the way his erection gains the pressure of being so filled.]
no subject
Whether it was by an appeal to Mettaton's emotions or by giving over some of his potent, intoxicating blood, Mettaton would inevitably be calmed at his treatment, always. Even like this, even when he's finding himself so frequently angered (and not at all questioning why that might be), Emet-Selch could tide him over with blood and sweet words... But what of now, where his words failed him?
As it turns out, he'd just have to read his lips. 'Somewhat,' he says, and the robot smiles some more.]
Only somewhat. Haha... I'll be gentle with you.
[With him against his shoulder, he leans down to kiss his cheek. He wraps his arms fully around Emet-Selch: tightly, winding, letting one of his arms slip down to cover more of his back. Secure and possessive—]
Oh...
[But there's the sensation of Emet-Selch shifting in his lap, Mettaton's cock demonstrating its own signs of use and overuse. He's terribly sensitive, but Emet-Selch's movement's gentle enough to not overwhelm him, at least. His lover shivers and tenses because of it, holding tight around his cock, which Mettaton's made to focus on with greater attention and an even greater sigh.
With them both like this... Yes, a sixth round was in order, Mettaton decides whimsically. Even the thought has him thrilled, his skewed ears perking up, feeling perfectly at home held within his Bonded like this. He holds Emet-Selch in his arms while his lover clings to his waist in turn, keeping his cock nestled inside of his body: warm and tight, each movement and response on his lover's part something for him to enjoy.
As they are, however... Against an unyielding floor, Mettaton can hardly rock his hips into Emet-Selch (though he tries), and he deserves all of the rubbing he can get. He clicks his tongue. His voice is not at all affected by use, smooth and sultry and close to Emet-Selch's ear.]
You always did say you'd never want me to stop. You mean it. [A small laugh remains in his throat, fondness overwhelming him at the man he holds in his arms. He sighs.] If I move us to the bed, you'll spare some of that strength to cling to my hips, won't you?
[Another mercy spared. Mettaton doesn't want to withdraw from him at all, and he feels for Emet-Selch's back and hips. He wants to lay them both down, wants to grab Emet-Selch's ass and force him to ride him with the manipulation of hands against his hips and his ass, where Emet-Selch could be viewed by Mettaton and Mettaton, by Emet-Selch. He finds himself that much more riled up, even feeling the way his erection gains the pressure of being so filled.]