[To the request to stay, he nods. The demand to stay. Of course he'd stay. He had always intended to... There hadn't been a single moment where he ever thought to depart from Emet-Selch's side, save for fleetingly. He would return. He always would.
Emet-Selch is on the bed and Mettaton is on his knees, encircling the smaller man in an embrace. Interest was electricity, and the two of them were equally charged, a contagion that intensified as it bounced between them, as they infected each other over and again. Crises seemed to follow them... but Mettaton lived in this moment where there was none, and Emet-Selch was miraculously drawn in with him.
The hand pressed his cheek is leaned into with a curtaining of lashes, a sweet smile pulling the corner of his lips. His face was restored, and the sensation of Emet-Selch's hand there is something he cherishes with his eye closed. With a hum, he cracks open his eye, but only slightly.
He doesn't think they'll catch up like this. His eyebrow lifts; his pupil runs down Emet-Selch's clothes, where his own fingers are.]
How do you mean? We won't catch up...
[He runs over the statement in his head as he scoots closer, straddling Emet-Selch from behind him with knees on either side of his thighs. And from there, Mettaton maintains as much contact as he can with the hand against his cheek as he presses his hands fully against bare skin. Starting from his hips, Mettaton lifts Emet-Selch's clothes off, making deft but desirous work of both shucking fabric, and giving Emet-Selch a good feel-up. Up and over his head comes flowing fabric, baring Emet-Selch's torso to the air. Contentedly, he sighs.]
Hmm... If you mean to say that we'll never truly conquer the full of our desires, yes. We won't. [He leans in, kissing the back of Emet-Selch's neck as he sidles his entire body flush to Emet-Selch's.] But that's because you keep encouraging more and more in me.
[... And there would be regrettable desires more that would go un-cared for. Mettaton tries not to think about his lacking body for the moment. Someday... someday, he would be in possession of an anatomy, of powers that suited him—and enabled him the same sexual indulgence they'd once enjoyed. He holds fast to the confidence that he still wants Emet-Selch carnally; that Emet-Selch had always been able to drive him mad.]
no subject
Emet-Selch is on the bed and Mettaton is on his knees, encircling the smaller man in an embrace. Interest was electricity, and the two of them were equally charged, a contagion that intensified as it bounced between them, as they infected each other over and again. Crises seemed to follow them... but Mettaton lived in this moment where there was none, and Emet-Selch was miraculously drawn in with him.
The hand pressed his cheek is leaned into with a curtaining of lashes, a sweet smile pulling the corner of his lips. His face was restored, and the sensation of Emet-Selch's hand there is something he cherishes with his eye closed. With a hum, he cracks open his eye, but only slightly.
He doesn't think they'll catch up like this. His eyebrow lifts; his pupil runs down Emet-Selch's clothes, where his own fingers are.]
How do you mean? We won't catch up...
[He runs over the statement in his head as he scoots closer, straddling Emet-Selch from behind him with knees on either side of his thighs. And from there, Mettaton maintains as much contact as he can with the hand against his cheek as he presses his hands fully against bare skin. Starting from his hips, Mettaton lifts Emet-Selch's clothes off, making deft but desirous work of both shucking fabric, and giving Emet-Selch a good feel-up. Up and over his head comes flowing fabric, baring Emet-Selch's torso to the air. Contentedly, he sighs.]
Hmm... If you mean to say that we'll never truly conquer the full of our desires, yes. We won't. [He leans in, kissing the back of Emet-Selch's neck as he sidles his entire body flush to Emet-Selch's.] But that's because you keep encouraging more and more in me.
[... And there would be regrettable desires more that would go un-cared for. Mettaton tries not to think about his lacking body for the moment. Someday... someday, he would be in possession of an anatomy, of powers that suited him—and enabled him the same sexual indulgence they'd once enjoyed. He holds fast to the confidence that he still wants Emet-Selch carnally; that Emet-Selch had always been able to drive him mad.]