[So easily, so quickly did the idol's energy return, that Emet-Selch can almost sigh at it. The man was persistent in his lightness and cheer, even if the Ascian could feel that underlying contentment remaining steady. But his way of expressing it was... so contrary to his own nature, that it remained such a strange thing to look upon, and a strange thing to feel, even via Bond. How was it possible to gain energy through exertion, through the presence of another? He didn't understand it. Emet-Selch had been steadily losing his already low energy, replacing it with Mettaton-branded fatigue (Which was a lot nicer than the usual sort, the kind achieved through multiple rounds of sex, gaining him a quieter mood, even if it did still run towards the sad outside of those heights of passion. But each time, he came out of it...
Better for it. He'd been right the first time he'd said it and it was true now as well, he thought. While the last time had been due to the relief found in subjugation and service, he supposed this was... a continuation of that feeling. The straightforward pleasure of experiencing Mettaton's pleasure, watching and feeling as his ecstasy crested once more, having the proof of it contained still in his body. To have... this, all of this, all of this man be all that he needed to consider for a time.).
The squirming only emphasized and agitated the cock remaining within him, stirred it enough to make it take a moment's concentration to keep from tightening around it- though it does cause flickers of tension to run through the rest of his body. It was still so warm... more than that, and with the intrusion of a yet-stiffening erection remaining, it was also hard to imagine not being able to remain especially heated, at least internally. His breathing is deliberately controlled, as he holds back the instinctive urge to press into his cock.
It's not a distraction, but it's another point to focus on when Mettaton leans back enough for their working eyes to meet. And he continues with his words, dramatic and excessive- though it didn't strike the Ascian as hyperbole, exactly. No, he meant it entirely sincerely, he thought- which was endearing.
--And it wasn't as though Emet-Selch didn't feel the same, even if he wouldn't have phrased it like that.
He was still thinking about Mettaton's words when the man pounced forward again, taking him up in another heated kiss, damp and as enthusiastic as the rest of his manner- and in this, at least, the Ascian's ardor can be comparable, at least in intent. His response is immediate, pressing into his lips, shivering at the suck to his bitten one, his own tongue slipping out for a brief taste of him.
Even if it was temporary, there was more stability in these moments than he'd felt in years... longer than he wanted to count, all the way back to the beginning. Being in this world wasn't without cost. There was a lot missing, disrupted, lost. But there were benefits. Aspects that were more than just consolation.
More affection, evident through expression, through touch, in the brush of noses and the simple closeness of their faces. Tilting his head slightly, he kisses Mettaton again, as though drawn to, the touch still gentle. Heat lay beyond it, focus existed within it, and love was expressed through it. Mettaton was warm on top of him, inside him, and- warm regardless, in his nature and his mood, and as he spent more and more time in his company, Emet-Selch felt a certain contentment just to feel it, even if he could never generate anything similar. A mortal form's capacity for body heat wasn't the same thing at all.
--Words would never suffice for this gratitude. And at the moment he didn't have any, even were his throat, his voice in better condition. Where Mettaton was light and energetic in his sentiment, the Ascian remained heavy, not weighted down exactly- not in the negative sense, at least- but dark and secured. And so fond that he was a bit crushed by it himself- but that was just how love registered, to him.
So he kisses him instead, and holds him and breathes him, nuzzling at lips and wrapping up in arms and holding between his legs. Feeling little other than the desire to- stay with him, in both body and instant, to remain in this moment for as long as he could.]
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Better for it. He'd been right the first time he'd said it and it was true now as well, he thought. While the last time had been due to the relief found in subjugation and service, he supposed this was... a continuation of that feeling. The straightforward pleasure of experiencing Mettaton's pleasure, watching and feeling as his ecstasy crested once more, having the proof of it contained still in his body. To have... this, all of this, all of this man be all that he needed to consider for a time.).
The squirming only emphasized and agitated the cock remaining within him, stirred it enough to make it take a moment's concentration to keep from tightening around it- though it does cause flickers of tension to run through the rest of his body. It was still so warm... more than that, and with the intrusion of a yet-stiffening erection remaining, it was also hard to imagine not being able to remain especially heated, at least internally. His breathing is deliberately controlled, as he holds back the instinctive urge to press into his cock.
It's not a distraction, but it's another point to focus on when Mettaton leans back enough for their working eyes to meet. And he continues with his words, dramatic and excessive- though it didn't strike the Ascian as hyperbole, exactly. No, he meant it entirely sincerely, he thought- which was endearing.
--And it wasn't as though Emet-Selch didn't feel the same, even if he wouldn't have phrased it like that.
He was still thinking about Mettaton's words when the man pounced forward again, taking him up in another heated kiss, damp and as enthusiastic as the rest of his manner- and in this, at least, the Ascian's ardor can be comparable, at least in intent. His response is immediate, pressing into his lips, shivering at the suck to his bitten one, his own tongue slipping out for a brief taste of him.
Even if it was temporary, there was more stability in these moments than he'd felt in years... longer than he wanted to count, all the way back to the beginning. Being in this world wasn't without cost. There was a lot missing, disrupted, lost. But there were benefits. Aspects that were more than just consolation.
More affection, evident through expression, through touch, in the brush of noses and the simple closeness of their faces. Tilting his head slightly, he kisses Mettaton again, as though drawn to, the touch still gentle. Heat lay beyond it, focus existed within it, and love was expressed through it. Mettaton was warm on top of him, inside him, and- warm regardless, in his nature and his mood, and as he spent more and more time in his company, Emet-Selch felt a certain contentment just to feel it, even if he could never generate anything similar. A mortal form's capacity for body heat wasn't the same thing at all.
--Words would never suffice for this gratitude. And at the moment he didn't have any, even were his throat, his voice in better condition. Where Mettaton was light and energetic in his sentiment, the Ascian remained heavy, not weighted down exactly- not in the negative sense, at least- but dark and secured. And so fond that he was a bit crushed by it himself- but that was just how love registered, to him.
So he kisses him instead, and holds him and breathes him, nuzzling at lips and wrapping up in arms and holding between his legs. Feeling little other than the desire to- stay with him, in both body and instant, to remain in this moment for as long as he could.]