[To hear a groan come from the box he held has him shiver in reply, hands sliding down his sides, fingers brushing incidentally again over the robot's tattoo. It was natural, the way they wanted to clamber all over each other- so natural, that they'd barely done anything like it over these past few months together. An uncomfortable memory he pushes aside for now, in favor of holding Mettaton close. Electricity couldn't exactly pass between them, but something seemed alight all the same, a current (that should have been there all along) that nearly burned. Softly, he nuzzles him, at the sound of his name. He still couldn't believe that it had worked--
A small noise, quickly stifled and barely audible, is the automatic response to Mettaton cutting off the contact between them. But Emet-Selch doesn't offer resistance beyond a twitch of tension in his arms, letting himself be guided back, gaze focused with singular intent on the other man. An attentiveness and visible longing that was vulnerable in itself. Of wishing he could have shown him this the whole time, no matter the condition of Mettaton's body- but needing this bridge all the same.
It was what it was. Exhaling a slow breath, he waves him onward, before letting his hands fall heavily into his lap.]
Show me. Every trace of it- every part of your heat.
[Dick hopefully included. Emet-Selch forces himself to sit back properly, sinking into the cushions of the couch. Partially to get a better view of his lover's transformation, and partially to aid in resisting the impulse to reach for him.
Without delay, that familiar smokescreen is released, and Mettaton's form is hidden from him entirely, the process a continued mystery, even after all this time. Yet even before he could see the result, could make out more than a humanoid shape beyond the fog, the idol's voice cuts through it, as the now-taller man lunges to his full height. Impatient- and uncommonly excited- the Ascian is made to wait to see what had elicited his lover's reaction.
The haze finally clears; automatically, his eyes fall upon Mettaton's crotch, as the other man gripped it, squirming in place, clutching at... nothing? Everything about his response spoke of immediate and shameless arousal, a combination that has his own pulse speed, his muscles tighten in sympathetic desire- but he couldn't see anything there.
His brow furrows, expression more confused than disappointed. There was no question that Mettaton was aroused... and if no cock ever appeared, that much would still be true. As they both took in this reaction, one that spoke of more than was visible, Emet-Selch wrests his attention from between his husband's thighs, and back towards his face.]
Something... other than your restored sensitivity?
[Where skepticism would've usually bloomed, he sounds more hopeful instead, despite himself. There was a good deal they could still enjoy, if Mettaton's reaction to handling his bare crotch was anything to go by- but he'd be lying if he pretended that he didn't actively miss his husband's cock. The ability to bring him, to see him in climax- it mattered to him (even apart from the simple attractiveness in all that surrounded the process).
But there was also no denying that there was no sign of any cock, as yet. And nowhere for it to be hiding, unless it was underneath silicone... somehow.
Though he longed to touch him, his hand even lifting from his lap before he realizes, he holds himself back.]
Is it internal? [But where? And how were they meant to access it, then?] Or can you shapeshift, as you used to?
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A small noise, quickly stifled and barely audible, is the automatic response to Mettaton cutting off the contact between them. But Emet-Selch doesn't offer resistance beyond a twitch of tension in his arms, letting himself be guided back, gaze focused with singular intent on the other man. An attentiveness and visible longing that was vulnerable in itself. Of wishing he could have shown him this the whole time, no matter the condition of Mettaton's body- but needing this bridge all the same.
It was what it was. Exhaling a slow breath, he waves him onward, before letting his hands fall heavily into his lap.]
Show me. Every trace of it- every part of your heat.
[Dick hopefully included. Emet-Selch forces himself to sit back properly, sinking into the cushions of the couch. Partially to get a better view of his lover's transformation, and partially to aid in resisting the impulse to reach for him.
Without delay, that familiar smokescreen is released, and Mettaton's form is hidden from him entirely, the process a continued mystery, even after all this time. Yet even before he could see the result, could make out more than a humanoid shape beyond the fog, the idol's voice cuts through it, as the now-taller man lunges to his full height. Impatient- and uncommonly excited- the Ascian is made to wait to see what had elicited his lover's reaction.
The haze finally clears; automatically, his eyes fall upon Mettaton's crotch, as the other man gripped it, squirming in place, clutching at... nothing? Everything about his response spoke of immediate and shameless arousal, a combination that has his own pulse speed, his muscles tighten in sympathetic desire- but he couldn't see anything there.
His brow furrows, expression more confused than disappointed. There was no question that Mettaton was aroused... and if no cock ever appeared, that much would still be true. As they both took in this reaction, one that spoke of more than was visible, Emet-Selch wrests his attention from between his husband's thighs, and back towards his face.]
Something... other than your restored sensitivity?
[Where skepticism would've usually bloomed, he sounds more hopeful instead, despite himself. There was a good deal they could still enjoy, if Mettaton's reaction to handling his bare crotch was anything to go by- but he'd be lying if he pretended that he didn't actively miss his husband's cock. The ability to bring him, to see him in climax- it mattered to him (even apart from the simple attractiveness in all that surrounded the process).
But there was also no denying that there was no sign of any cock, as yet. And nowhere for it to be hiding, unless it was underneath silicone... somehow.
Though he longed to touch him, his hand even lifting from his lap before he realizes, he holds himself back.]
Is it internal? [But where? And how were they meant to access it, then?] Or can you shapeshift, as you used to?