["High praise" met with a smug smile that is fortunately out of sight, because he'll take it. "Occasionally more tolerable" means "you're growing on me," which is more than acceptable.

He should have expected more action against his neck, but the redoubling of his efforts has Mettaton's grip tightening as he bites his lower lip, eye blowing wide in mind-numbing shock against the teeth then his mouth against his throat. Even though it surprises him and bears some resemblance to pain, he ends up exposing his neck all the same on reflex. It means Mettaton's reeling from it while Emet-Selch gives his reply, anyway.

...Restful, all right. The amount of sleeping/fake sleeping/lying around these types do... Emet-Selch is the perfect example of it. Trying to regain some of his composure with a clear of his throat, that effort's lost when he focuses on the experimental sensations of his fingers against his neck. Their variance feels like he's checking his reaction for each, but it all ends up feeling pleasant; he finds himself sinking into his Bonded with a contented note.

He tries to smooth himself over, both from Emet-Selch's mouth and his fingers against his neck. Mettaton does his very best to reply through that.]

It's almost part of some design, that you'd be stuck with people like me.

[Some more affection: he sighs, burying his nose into Emet-Selch's hair. ...Suddenly, something strikes him.]

Say, Hades. This body of yours... Did you take it like this, in all of its loveliness...? Or do you alter your host to your liking?