[Mettaton rises eagerly to meet his lips. It's a newly exciting prospect, being out of sight when he's so used to the opposite. There aren't any reasons to hold himself back in the privacy of his Bondmate's room. Bit by bit, any reservations about what he can do here to Emet-Selch are dropped, making way for desire unknown even to himself, unfathomable in its depth. It's his curiosity, in part: this is a new experience for him completely, getting so close to another body while truly feeling his advances. But it's not just that — could it ever be, when he's endearing to Emet-Selch? It's not the act of being kissed or touched and reciprocating that fuels his passion when he kisses him alone, but the growing desire for the Ascian himself on top of it all.
So he returns the kiss with a pleasant hum, but he settles into it like he can't get close enough. His arm around Emet-Selch's waist beneath his clothes tightens dangerously again, possessive; his tongue flicks out to follow his lower lip. He can't even get a word in for once, his passion waking on him so suddenly and so thoroughly, though he has plenty he could say. Their unexpected chemistry, the way he draws him in, how he frustrates but intrigues him, the way he makes him feel vulnerable but so very much himself all at once... That's why he finds Bonding with him better than expected.
If Emet-Selch allows it, this time, Mettaton's the one to communicate the desire to slide his tongue past his lips. If he seems passionate and intent, it's not Emet-Selch's imagination: he's found himself rewinding to the sound of Emet-Selch breathless ever since their last encounter, finding it arresting. He wants more. The hand he has against his back quickly withdraws, only to frantically slide under his clothes just like his other arm. He can't feel how warm he is, but he can feel the firm softness of his figure and finds himself wanting to see and feel even more.
His leg, invited closer by the truly sensual noise from his Bondmate, does just that, but he even twists his hip to press his upper thigh firmly Emet-Selch's groin. Part of wanting the man rather than the action alone is Mettaton's desire for his pleasure, and the sound he makes in his throat coaxes him like a demand.]
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So he returns the kiss with a pleasant hum, but he settles into it like he can't get close enough. His arm around Emet-Selch's waist beneath his clothes tightens dangerously again, possessive; his tongue flicks out to follow his lower lip. He can't even get a word in for once, his passion waking on him so suddenly and so thoroughly, though he has plenty he could say. Their unexpected chemistry, the way he draws him in, how he frustrates but intrigues him, the way he makes him feel vulnerable but so very much himself all at once... That's why he finds Bonding with him better than expected.
If Emet-Selch allows it, this time, Mettaton's the one to communicate the desire to slide his tongue past his lips. If he seems passionate and intent, it's not Emet-Selch's imagination: he's found himself rewinding to the sound of Emet-Selch breathless ever since their last encounter, finding it arresting. He wants more. The hand he has against his back quickly withdraws, only to frantically slide under his clothes just like his other arm. He can't feel how warm he is, but he can feel the firm softness of his figure and finds himself wanting to see and feel even more.
His leg, invited closer by the truly sensual noise from his Bondmate, does just that, but he even twists his hip to press his upper thigh firmly Emet-Selch's groin. Part of wanting the man rather than the action alone is Mettaton's desire for his pleasure, and the sound he makes in his throat coaxes him like a demand.]