[Whenever Mettaton pressed down on him, Emet-Selch can't help but shudder in response, body trying and failing to writhe up against him, the position leaving him little opportunity but to accept however the robot chose to move. A comforting (if not always comfortable) thing. Did this mean he trusted the puca? To some degree, he supposed; a belated thing to realize.
And though it did little to ease his frustrations, the Ascian also found himself considering what it would be like, were Mettaton's body complete- the textures, the tastes. His mouth was unusual enough of a flavor- though it was quickly nearing familiarity- but what of his come? Would his body be somehow fully organic, or continue its mix of metal, artificial skin, unnatural fur and tissue? Would there be unexpected angles or curves, would his cock harden due to metal, blood, or something unidentifiable?
What a strange thing to find himself aching for. To hold the other man's erection in his mouth, as deeply as he could. To feel Mettaton over him like this, taking the full length of him within his body. To possess him completely in turn.... What sounds would he make then, how would he move? If everything was so intense now--
Why was literally everything the Ascian wanted- even something like this, indulging in acts completely unrelated to his eternal task- unattainable? It was probably the passion of the moment, the encouragement of the Bond to desiring this end, but- he didn't think that made it any less real.
The gentle squeeze of thighs around his cock brings some small relief, pulling a low, ragged moan from his throat, hips jerking to try and rub himself against the puca. Even if it wasn't the same as being buried inside him, it was still good, still sets him aching and shivering for more of it. He pants between kisses, returning them haphazardly, but with no less devotion, hand stroking intermittently at the puca's hair, his ears. Swiping his tongue against Mettaton's, nipping at his lip, his chin and jaw; the kisses were something of a mess, but Emet-Selch was beyond caring about that. He watches Mettaton occasionally, unfocused and too-close with his good eye, but mostly keeps them closed, listening to the sounds they both were making, the noises that came with the shifting of bodies against one another. Though he doesn't feel or hear breath against his ear when Mettaton toys with his earring, the sound of him there is loud anyway, a sensation that has him humming breathlessly in response.]
no subject
And though it did little to ease his frustrations, the Ascian also found himself considering what it would be like, were Mettaton's body complete- the textures, the tastes. His mouth was unusual enough of a flavor- though it was quickly nearing familiarity- but what of his come? Would his body be somehow fully organic, or continue its mix of metal, artificial skin, unnatural fur and tissue? Would there be unexpected angles or curves, would his cock harden due to metal, blood, or something unidentifiable?
What a strange thing to find himself aching for. To hold the other man's erection in his mouth, as deeply as he could. To feel Mettaton over him like this, taking the full length of him within his body. To possess him completely in turn.... What sounds would he make then, how would he move? If everything was so intense now--
Why was literally everything the Ascian wanted- even something like this, indulging in acts completely unrelated to his eternal task- unattainable? It was probably the passion of the moment, the encouragement of the Bond to desiring this end, but- he didn't think that made it any less real.
The gentle squeeze of thighs around his cock brings some small relief, pulling a low, ragged moan from his throat, hips jerking to try and rub himself against the puca. Even if it wasn't the same as being buried inside him, it was still good, still sets him aching and shivering for more of it. He pants between kisses, returning them haphazardly, but with no less devotion, hand stroking intermittently at the puca's hair, his ears. Swiping his tongue against Mettaton's, nipping at his lip, his chin and jaw; the kisses were something of a mess, but Emet-Selch was beyond caring about that. He watches Mettaton occasionally, unfocused and too-close with his good eye, but mostly keeps them closed, listening to the sounds they both were making, the noises that came with the shifting of bodies against one another. Though he doesn't feel or hear breath against his ear when Mettaton toys with his earring, the sound of him there is loud anyway, a sensation that has him humming breathlessly in response.]