[For some reason, being gripped onto more tightly sends a response like adrenaline through the Puca's body, one that demands he writhe harder or freeze still. It's primal, and he recognizes as much, finding it unusually satisfying when he chooses by will to still and give in. He shudders in the Ascian's grip and lets him keep him, allowing his eye to shut in turn. Giving in, but he's glad to be doing it: he wouldn't want to leave this. Each move against his neck has Mettaton making a sound as if his next word's caught in his throat.
When Emet-Selch begins speaking, Mettaton leans into him. His ears roll forward with interest, for content but largely for sound. That he would find somebody else's voice so captivating is a welcome surprise, but perhaps not so shocking when he considers that these tones on Emet-Selch's voice are carried mostly in intimate proximity: with his familiarity with them, then, he's grown to find it attractive. Dreadfully so: speaking to him like this would be enough to change the very context of his surroundings, he feels. Mettaton gently rubs his cheek against his Bonded's. He hears his description, but is finding it so difficult not to just kiss him already.]
Your eyes...
[He's not entirely sure where he was going with that. Repeating it? Trying to express that he likes his eyes, maybe. (He was tall, very, white of hair, yellow eyes, humanoid in build... In a sensible part of Mettaton's mind, he wants to know why he lost this original form. He thinks he might already be able to piece that answer together, but he's a bit dazed.)
Arcing into Emet-Selch eagerly, Mettaton turns his head to kiss him, his manner suggesting his long-standing want. More shifting of his body leads to discovering his erect cock, this time with no need for him to remove any clothes to access him. His body jolts at the sensation, and he moans into the kiss.]
no subject
When Emet-Selch begins speaking, Mettaton leans into him. His ears roll forward with interest, for content but largely for sound. That he would find somebody else's voice so captivating is a welcome surprise, but perhaps not so shocking when he considers that these tones on Emet-Selch's voice are carried mostly in intimate proximity: with his familiarity with them, then, he's grown to find it attractive. Dreadfully so: speaking to him like this would be enough to change the very context of his surroundings, he feels. Mettaton gently rubs his cheek against his Bonded's. He hears his description, but is finding it so difficult not to just kiss him already.]
Your eyes...
[He's not entirely sure where he was going with that. Repeating it? Trying to express that he likes his eyes, maybe. (He was tall, very, white of hair, yellow eyes, humanoid in build... In a sensible part of Mettaton's mind, he wants to know why he lost this original form. He thinks he might already be able to piece that answer together, but he's a bit dazed.)
Arcing into Emet-Selch eagerly, Mettaton turns his head to kiss him, his manner suggesting his long-standing want. More shifting of his body leads to discovering his erect cock, this time with no need for him to remove any clothes to access him. His body jolts at the sensation, and he moans into the kiss.]
Ah— Hades...