[He's already decided that he won't pull away from this at all, not a single aspect of this experience which blinds them so. He's dedicated to taking him and enduring all Emet-Selch has to give. And his undoing doesn't disappoint, though it surprises him that the Ascian's response is so deep and reaches him with such force. Sinking into the carnal is easy, but there's emotion.
Mettaton allows him to fill his mouth first, his tongue still coaxing him to his completion all along the way by rubbing across him until his ejaculation. Which he takes for himself, surprised by the twitches of his body and the taste of his come. It's so much all at once that he sees stars, both blinded by pleasure and blindsided by everything else. But for all this rattles Mettaton, there's far more. It's the sound Emet-Selch makes that would render him breathless, unsure of what to make of this response to intensity.
He concerns over him, that's for sure. He doesn't think that this experience brought him to despair, no, but he wonders if it's by virtue of dropping his guard at all that he'd react this way.
Mettaton is satisfied: he doesn't come to any climax like Emet-Selch, but such is his condition, heavily reliant on all of his other senses. It's hard to recover from that for both of them, but Mettaton pulls off of him far more readily, especially with Emet-Selch a mess collapsed beneath him. Mettaton straightens his posture, his ears bent forward, his attention soft while he spares a thought for foreign matters like being naked and temperature and comfort. He reaches for the edge of Emet-Selch's blankets and draws them up and around him so that when he moves to close in on the Ascian, he brings that with. (Though he doesn't ease himself all the way down before doing a very convenient thing for cuddling — the only good that came out of his post-Rathmore repairs, the ability to remove the too-broad shoulder guards that would have made cuddling kind of impossible.)
With those off, Mettaton eases himself down against Emet-Selch's side (he can figure out if he can tolerate his weight atop his body later, when he's coherent) and, laying on his side, he maneuvers one arm beneath Emet-Selch's neck and the other around his torso and tries to pull the other man into his arms, still deeply impacted by observed and experienced feelings.
He doesn't stop being made of metal and therefore inherently uncomfortable, but that doesn't keep him from pulling Emet-Selch closer to him. Once he gets his way, he twists his fingers into Emet-Selch's hair and presses a kiss to his hairline, humming against him thoughtfully.]
no subject
Mettaton allows him to fill his mouth first, his tongue still coaxing him to his completion all along the way by rubbing across him until his ejaculation. Which he takes for himself, surprised by the twitches of his body and the taste of his come. It's so much all at once that he sees stars, both blinded by pleasure and blindsided by everything else. But for all this rattles Mettaton, there's far more. It's the sound Emet-Selch makes that would render him breathless, unsure of what to make of this response to intensity.
He concerns over him, that's for sure. He doesn't think that this experience brought him to despair, no, but he wonders if it's by virtue of dropping his guard at all that he'd react this way.
Mettaton is satisfied: he doesn't come to any climax like Emet-Selch, but such is his condition, heavily reliant on all of his other senses. It's hard to recover from that for both of them, but Mettaton pulls off of him far more readily, especially with Emet-Selch a mess collapsed beneath him. Mettaton straightens his posture, his ears bent forward, his attention soft while he spares a thought for foreign matters like being naked and temperature and comfort. He reaches for the edge of Emet-Selch's blankets and draws them up and around him so that when he moves to close in on the Ascian, he brings that with. (Though he doesn't ease himself all the way down before doing a very convenient thing for cuddling — the only good that came out of his post-Rathmore repairs, the ability to remove the too-broad shoulder guards that would have made cuddling kind of impossible.)
With those off, Mettaton eases himself down against Emet-Selch's side (he can figure out if he can tolerate his weight atop his body later, when he's coherent) and, laying on his side, he maneuvers one arm beneath Emet-Selch's neck and the other around his torso and tries to pull the other man into his arms, still deeply impacted by observed and experienced feelings.
He doesn't stop being made of metal and therefore inherently uncomfortable, but that doesn't keep him from pulling Emet-Selch closer to him. Once he gets his way, he twists his fingers into Emet-Selch's hair and presses a kiss to his hairline, humming against him thoughtfully.]