[The differences between Mettaton and a normal body remained interesting to note, and Emet-Selch appreciated the feeling of the heat evident in those ears, his fingers smoothing through fur, scratching gently at the base of them. That along with the more familiar sounds of excitement and pleasure, there were also things like unusually hot rabbit ears to take advantage of.
But in contrast to the touch to said ears, Emet-Selch returns Mettaton's kisses with more fervor than grace, snapping up what breath he can take between them, resenting even that much of a pause. The graze against his cock has him shudder again, panting, and even though he desperately needs the air, he wastes it on a noise of protest when Mettaton pulls back from the kiss.
But there's no reluctance to being encouraged onto his back, arms adjusting to wrap around Mettaton in turn. It was a heavier body than he was used to, and perhaps more than Emet-Selch was expecting, but it was within acceptable limits. The added weight felt only like a boon, the pressure of his body holding the Ascian in place, pushing him into the mattress a little- a comforting sensation. Perhaps it would occasionally make it that much harder to breathe, but it wasn't as though he was doing a very good job of breathing regularly anyway.]
Not--
[See, one word and already out of air. With effort, he gives it another go.]
...not at all.
[Like Mettaton, being at all contained like this wasn't something he'd want in his everyday life- but in this place, and more particularly with this person- it was hard for him to desire anything else. And in the brief meeting of gazes- another breath stolen by the look to Mettaton's eye- his own expression is similarly intense, wanting. Demanding, expectant, lonely.
This time it's the Ascian who bares his throat to him; swallowing hard against the sensation, a low groan vibrating through his neck as his eyes squeeze shut again.]
no subject
But in contrast to the touch to said ears, Emet-Selch returns Mettaton's kisses with more fervor than grace, snapping up what breath he can take between them, resenting even that much of a pause. The graze against his cock has him shudder again, panting, and even though he desperately needs the air, he wastes it on a noise of protest when Mettaton pulls back from the kiss.
But there's no reluctance to being encouraged onto his back, arms adjusting to wrap around Mettaton in turn. It was a heavier body than he was used to, and perhaps more than Emet-Selch was expecting, but it was within acceptable limits. The added weight felt only like a boon, the pressure of his body holding the Ascian in place, pushing him into the mattress a little- a comforting sensation. Perhaps it would occasionally make it that much harder to breathe, but it wasn't as though he was doing a very good job of breathing regularly anyway.]
Not--
[See, one word and already out of air. With effort, he gives it another go.]
...not at all.
[Like Mettaton, being at all contained like this wasn't something he'd want in his everyday life- but in this place, and more particularly with this person- it was hard for him to desire anything else. And in the brief meeting of gazes- another breath stolen by the look to Mettaton's eye- his own expression is similarly intense, wanting. Demanding, expectant, lonely.
This time it's the Ascian who bares his throat to him; swallowing hard against the sensation, a low groan vibrating through his neck as his eyes squeeze shut again.]