[Mettaton giggles, light and airy as he reclaims use of his body. Shifting slightly, cuddling closer to his Bonded, he even nuzzles into his lips for a firmer, brighter kiss, pleased by his report of his status. And it is pleasing to know that his lover's been made to feel better for... all of this. Their closeness and sex, their relationship — and forget the cherry atop the sundae when Mettaton could overturn the entire dish with his existence alone. He would agree that he's a source of betterment and satisfaction, even when he tempts.
And even though he's possessed of his energy in manner, that contentment remains. There is nothing to suggest feeling crushed by the notion of their love, only the energy he feels for being with Emet-Selch, for holding him beneath his body and being held in return. A lightheartedness, adoring and rejuvenated by their union. All he can think about is how Emet-Selch had said something similar earlier, hadn't he?
That's why it tickles him to hear it again, and his smile's broad and reaches his cheeks when he presses his lips to his again.]
Better? You'll just keep feeling better and better at this rate, then. What a perfect pick-me-up!
[Just have sex to feel alleviate some of that gloom and to feel connected in ways they only dream of it! Mettaton finds this arrangement to be most agreeable. He's not come down from this last round, still in more of a dreamy, pleasant state as he sighs against Emet-Selch, amused by his most recent response. But he squirms still, his erection only having softened somewhat by this point: still filling, still terribly sensitive, and the heat of Emet-Selch's body not at all diminishing to Mettaton's notice. He's forced to sigh a stream of heat.
But he mellows for a moment and draws back to meet his eye, gold like his own, even as his hair curtains their vision on the side. He adds on, his laughter no longer taking center stage — even though he remains pleased by Emet-Selch's enjoyment of them together. He enjoys them, too; his voice is softer, and with the same intimacy he'd give if they were still speaking lip to lip.]
... All of them. Even the celestial bodies beyond our comprehension. It's the only way to explain how starstruck I feel...!
[And lovestruck, but he feels that's encapsulated in this: it's about his love, after all. He swoops back down to steal a kiss, fervent and open-mouthed as he gives Emet-Selch's lip a short suck before releasing him with a satisfying smack of lips. On his knees and the bends of his arms, his body flush along Emet-Selch's body with his hips in the air, he feels like he's in the sort of position to pounce, filling him with an even greater sort of puckish energy, and his dark-furred ears regain their will to stand — even if they lean to the left somewhat, both of them large enough to obey gravity if not fully regained control of.
... Like this, Emet-Selch couldn't feel alone, and they couldn't be parted. Wouldn't there be some way to defy any fate that wished to return them to their homes? Mettaton can't begin to fathom where home is anymore but here. He was in the transition of uprooting his life, besides... All of monsterkind was packing up and heading for lands brighter and air fresher when Mettaton found himself here, in the tech-devoid Aefenglom as a brand new species of robot-rabbit hybrid.
It was... unwanted, at first. He had so much to look forward to at home. And when he finds himself there again, he's sure he'll march on and take the human's surface by storm. But here...
Mettaton has senses. He has greater touch, taste, and smell. He knows real sleep and dreams. He lost the magic that makes up his soul, he has a bunch of strange instinctual inclinations, but he gained the ability to shapeshift. It's changed everything for the robot. No longer would he need to rely on the constraints of his body when he could achieve whatever sort of form he liked, be they mortal or simply embellished. Here, even, he's paying good attention to his own cock that he has stuffed in his lover, still sealing his body where he'd filled him with come with a thick glans, feeling the warmth of him squeezing along that length that wasn't there before. And he can even attain the body of a human, no matter how temporary...
So this comes with the drawback of potential ferality, so he requires a Bond to remain steady. So what? In the end, he'd also gained... this. These friends and this man, this one, who he'd never have met if he didn't come here.
Mettaton remembers they discussed whether they'd return to their worlds on multiple occasions, and he feels right now... that he, too, is grateful for this. All of it. So terribly grateful, even when he's lost other aspects of his life to the relocation.
He smiles down upon Emet-Selch and wordlessly curls back into him, but nuzzling noses this time as he closes his eye. Warmth suffuses him entirely, glad for all of this.]
no subject
And even though he's possessed of his energy in manner, that contentment remains. There is nothing to suggest feeling crushed by the notion of their love, only the energy he feels for being with Emet-Selch, for holding him beneath his body and being held in return. A lightheartedness, adoring and rejuvenated by their union. All he can think about is how Emet-Selch had said something similar earlier, hadn't he?
That's why it tickles him to hear it again, and his smile's broad and reaches his cheeks when he presses his lips to his again.]
Better? You'll just keep feeling better and better at this rate, then. What a perfect pick-me-up!
[Just have sex to feel alleviate some of that gloom and to feel connected in ways they only dream of it! Mettaton finds this arrangement to be most agreeable. He's not come down from this last round, still in more of a dreamy, pleasant state as he sighs against Emet-Selch, amused by his most recent response. But he squirms still, his erection only having softened somewhat by this point: still filling, still terribly sensitive, and the heat of Emet-Selch's body not at all diminishing to Mettaton's notice. He's forced to sigh a stream of heat.
But he mellows for a moment and draws back to meet his eye, gold like his own, even as his hair curtains their vision on the side. He adds on, his laughter no longer taking center stage — even though he remains pleased by Emet-Selch's enjoyment of them together. He enjoys them, too; his voice is softer, and with the same intimacy he'd give if they were still speaking lip to lip.]
... All of them. Even the celestial bodies beyond our comprehension. It's the only way to explain how starstruck I feel...!
[And lovestruck, but he feels that's encapsulated in this: it's about his love, after all. He swoops back down to steal a kiss, fervent and open-mouthed as he gives Emet-Selch's lip a short suck before releasing him with a satisfying smack of lips. On his knees and the bends of his arms, his body flush along Emet-Selch's body with his hips in the air, he feels like he's in the sort of position to pounce, filling him with an even greater sort of puckish energy, and his dark-furred ears regain their will to stand — even if they lean to the left somewhat, both of them large enough to obey gravity if not fully regained control of.
... Like this, Emet-Selch couldn't feel alone, and they couldn't be parted. Wouldn't there be some way to defy any fate that wished to return them to their homes? Mettaton can't begin to fathom where home is anymore but here. He was in the transition of uprooting his life, besides... All of monsterkind was packing up and heading for lands brighter and air fresher when Mettaton found himself here, in the tech-devoid Aefenglom as a brand new species of robot-rabbit hybrid.
It was... unwanted, at first. He had so much to look forward to at home. And when he finds himself there again, he's sure he'll march on and take the human's surface by storm. But here...
Mettaton has senses. He has greater touch, taste, and smell. He knows real sleep and dreams. He lost the magic that makes up his soul, he has a bunch of strange instinctual inclinations, but he gained the ability to shapeshift. It's changed everything for the robot. No longer would he need to rely on the constraints of his body when he could achieve whatever sort of form he liked, be they mortal or simply embellished. Here, even, he's paying good attention to his own cock that he has stuffed in his lover, still sealing his body where he'd filled him with come with a thick glans, feeling the warmth of him squeezing along that length that wasn't there before. And he can even attain the body of a human, no matter how temporary...
So this comes with the drawback of potential ferality, so he requires a Bond to remain steady. So what? In the end, he'd also gained... this. These friends and this man, this one, who he'd never have met if he didn't come here.
Mettaton remembers they discussed whether they'd return to their worlds on multiple occasions, and he feels right now... that he, too, is grateful for this. All of it. So terribly grateful, even when he's lost other aspects of his life to the relocation.
He smiles down upon Emet-Selch and wordlessly curls back into him, but nuzzling noses this time as he closes his eye. Warmth suffuses him entirely, glad for all of this.]