[These last few moments are static, the feeling of his Bonded stronger than ever. Immediately he feels himself gripping onto him with his fingers wherever he can, desperate to... Keep him close. His own feelings shine through just as well, thoroughly overwhelmed with pleasure and affection and compassion. And, both: want, possession, and vulnerability. As he climaxes, Mettaton can only slacken somewhat, his lips touching Emet-Selch's as he exhales a soft moan, feeling sufficiently drowned by it all. Finally. His voice comes out as surprised, affected.]
Hades...!
[Needless to say, they're both inundated by each other's desire, on top of their own. That's enough to make Mettaton toss his head, squeezing his eye shut in raw pleasure and unchecked desire.
Just as Emet-Selch's response isn't so pained this time, Mettaton's not as taken aback by it, though he... feels it, intensely, more than before. Emet-Selch's need, a blur between carnal and deep desire for something he's been without. He lifts his head again from Emet-Selch's neck. It makes Mettaton hold tight still as he winds down, brings his golden eye to scan the Ascian's expression, and makes him feel so very soft. He rarely feels this way so strongly, reserved only for those so close to him that he'd die for them, so why...?
No, it's obvious, isn't it? Mettaton cares about him. Deeply. And with each moment longer they spend together, it only increases, despite their stark contrast. The idol doesn't move from atop him, but his thumb moves to trace Emet-Selch's jaw before moving to brush his fingertips against his hairline, biased toward the right.]
Hades... [His voice is soft, reemembering the quality of his Bonded's tone and what he'd said to him beforehand. He leans in to brush his lips against Emet-Selch's. He's not about to suffocate him this time — he's probably trying to breathe now.]
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Hades...!
[Needless to say, they're both inundated by each other's desire, on top of their own. That's enough to make Mettaton toss his head, squeezing his eye shut in raw pleasure and unchecked desire.
Just as Emet-Selch's response isn't so pained this time, Mettaton's not as taken aback by it, though he... feels it, intensely, more than before. Emet-Selch's need, a blur between carnal and deep desire for something he's been without. He lifts his head again from Emet-Selch's neck. It makes Mettaton hold tight still as he winds down, brings his golden eye to scan the Ascian's expression, and makes him feel so very soft. He rarely feels this way so strongly, reserved only for those so close to him that he'd die for them, so why...?
No, it's obvious, isn't it? Mettaton cares about him. Deeply. And with each moment longer they spend together, it only increases, despite their stark contrast. The idol doesn't move from atop him, but his thumb moves to trace Emet-Selch's jaw before moving to brush his fingertips against his hairline, biased toward the right.]
Hades... [His voice is soft, reemembering the quality of his Bonded's tone and what he'd said to him beforehand. He leans in to brush his lips against Emet-Selch's. He's not about to suffocate him this time — he's probably trying to breathe now.]