[Mettaton's amusement at his reduced state gets more of a huff of breath, and a firmer nudge to his head, though it's still clearly an affectionate gesture. Already, the idol seemed livening up again- which wasn't unusual, really; even when he'd been running out of battery, he'd seemed energetic, just with an uncooperative body. It was rare to see him in a non-lively state for any length of time- and for all that it was tiring, for all that he might complain about it... it really was the sort of thing he did well with. Responded to. That Emet-Selch found himself drawn to, time and again (he really did have a type).
Talking between sex was perfectly fine with Emet-Selch. He liked talking to Mettaton besides (which was a fate he would've protested from their first meetings... even if, even then, he'd found him interesting to talk to), and there was no reason not to while otherwise basking in each other's presence, along with previous orgasms. That Mettaton still had his cock inside him just made it that bit more intimate (especially when he could feel him gradually firming back up again, though it's a sensation that just has him take a slow, heated breath, relishing both it and him). And as the robot speaks, the Ascian strokes slowly along his back with a hand, as though petting him. Actually it's just straight-up petting him.
The only pity was how limited his own voice or capacity for spoken reply was... particularly when he felt he probably should preserve what recovery he could grant it for whatever inevitable vocalizations he found himself making in future, or if Mettaton continued being more insistent on being praised. Emet-Selch could keep ruining his throat for those things; he'd just have to tell him about the weird chair he found later, with its scorpion motif and its desire to render anyone who ventured nearby it asleep. A piece of furniture that he could feel a kinship with.
Mettaton lifts his head again, and Emet-Selch automatically watches him, his lover's look both heated and casual at the same time- and it felt not contradictory at all with him, just a sign both of his intensity, and of his ease with him. Their ease with each other really, to just be able to exist in each other's presence, doing whatever they liked at one moment or another. The way the puca's ears drooped around him a bit was a little endearing, as the Ascian takes in both them and his lover's face as he spoke.
The mention of the armoire gets a dubious look, and the hint of a matching sound from him. Considering the nature of everything else in the basement, that sounded alarmingly useful. Either Mettaton had found the one object with a straightforward and outright positive slant, or there was a catch he didn't know of. Like the outfits were temporary, or would transform into bats, or would turn the wearer's arms green or something absurd like that. But as he can't really argue any of these things, he has to settle for a glance.
The jewelry was also clearly cursed, but Mettaton skipped over anything but his appearance in it (which also amused a little). Though did it really count as a curse, only enhancing existing predilections? Emet-Selch found it a congenial enough thing to deal with... and certainly worth keeping. Along with the pendants the Ascian had found. And with them in combination- dangerous. Enticing. Breathtaking, and in a frequently literal sense. Something that he remains aware of as he watches him, watches Mettaton's own attention remaining both bright and dark all at once.
Still, even though he can't exactly say much, it's clear that Emet-Selch is paying attention- and that all of his attention remains on Mettaton. Even through his obvious fatigue, he's still alert, still heated for him in his way, a slower roll of intensity that never truly ebbed.
The stones also get a slightly questioning look. Why keep something like that around? Because they were pretty, no doubt... and Mettaton liked shiny things like that. Even if they were useless- but probably not terribly harmful, especially if he avoided touching them. A mixed bag of finds altogether.]
How frustrating.
[He does comment to the last, though he doesn't try to put much of any voice to it, particularly when Mettaton could watch him speak. Mettaton talking while no one could understand him didn't sound like an effect the robot would enjoy... particularly if he had been wearing that glittering necklace. Then no one would realize he was asking for praise, how terrible.
no subject
Talking between sex was perfectly fine with Emet-Selch. He liked talking to Mettaton besides (which was a fate he would've protested from their first meetings... even if, even then, he'd found him interesting to talk to), and there was no reason not to while otherwise basking in each other's presence, along with previous orgasms. That Mettaton still had his cock inside him just made it that bit more intimate (especially when he could feel him gradually firming back up again, though it's a sensation that just has him take a slow, heated breath, relishing both it and him). And as the robot speaks, the Ascian strokes slowly along his back with a hand, as though petting him. Actually it's just straight-up petting him.
The only pity was how limited his own voice or capacity for spoken reply was... particularly when he felt he probably should preserve what recovery he could grant it for whatever inevitable vocalizations he found himself making in future, or if Mettaton continued being more insistent on being praised. Emet-Selch could keep ruining his throat for those things; he'd just have to tell him about the weird chair he found later, with its scorpion motif and its desire to render anyone who ventured nearby it asleep. A piece of furniture that he could feel a kinship with.
Mettaton lifts his head again, and Emet-Selch automatically watches him, his lover's look both heated and casual at the same time- and it felt not contradictory at all with him, just a sign both of his intensity, and of his ease with him. Their ease with each other really, to just be able to exist in each other's presence, doing whatever they liked at one moment or another. The way the puca's ears drooped around him a bit was a little endearing, as the Ascian takes in both them and his lover's face as he spoke.
The mention of the armoire gets a dubious look, and the hint of a matching sound from him. Considering the nature of everything else in the basement, that sounded alarmingly useful. Either Mettaton had found the one object with a straightforward and outright positive slant, or there was a catch he didn't know of. Like the outfits were temporary, or would transform into bats, or would turn the wearer's arms green or something absurd like that. But as he can't really argue any of these things, he has to settle for a glance.
The jewelry was also clearly cursed, but Mettaton skipped over anything but his appearance in it (which also amused a little). Though did it really count as a curse, only enhancing existing predilections? Emet-Selch found it a congenial enough thing to deal with... and certainly worth keeping. Along with the pendants the Ascian had found. And with them in combination- dangerous. Enticing. Breathtaking, and in a frequently literal sense. Something that he remains aware of as he watches him, watches Mettaton's own attention remaining both bright and dark all at once.
Still, even though he can't exactly say much, it's clear that Emet-Selch is paying attention- and that all of his attention remains on Mettaton. Even through his obvious fatigue, he's still alert, still heated for him in his way, a slower roll of intensity that never truly ebbed.
The stones also get a slightly questioning look. Why keep something like that around? Because they were pretty, no doubt... and Mettaton liked shiny things like that. Even if they were useless- but probably not terribly harmful, especially if he avoided touching them. A mixed bag of finds altogether.]
How frustrating.
[He does comment to the last, though he doesn't try to put much of any voice to it, particularly when Mettaton could watch him speak. Mettaton talking while no one could understand him didn't sound like an effect the robot would enjoy... particularly if he had been wearing that glittering necklace. Then no one would realize he was asking for praise, how terrible.
He tries mouthing a few more words.]
At least. Not everything was entirely useless.