[(Play dangerously they would- until his powers could be restored to him. Mettaton, so touched by Emet-Selch, knew that he could focus his own wishing solely to restore the other man's powers to him... Now that their mutual desire to see MTT endowed once more was taken care of.)
Despite the intensity of their desire, and though half of him expects to be taken up in a ravenous kiss, Mettaton is mollified at the kiss next to his eye. He exhales, lids fluttering closed, and lips parted in his pleasure. Because of course, even these tender actions are pleasurable... and intense, at that. The texture of lips, the gentlest of suctions worthy of a kiss so sweet and simple- he could feel it all, and it marveled, and overwhelmed.
Even when he was used to it, it had never stopped overwhelming.
With his eye closed it manages to take him off-guard to feel Emet-Selch's digit probe the tip of his cock, and he tenses and shudders, wriggling in his spot. Parted lips mean he can't help it when he groans, shivering as his hips perform as they instinctively know to, by thrusting, seeking out more attention when Emet-Selch parts.
Even when haste and need seems to be Mettaton's key, though... he would be more than pleased with the gradual unwrapping process. He thrived under the exclusive, and pointed attention. And even when Emet-Selch begins to pry impossibly sturdy latex from Mettaton's hips, the robot can't help himself when he fixes his attention not on his lap, but on Emet-Selch's face- to gaze upon him rapturously, helplessly in love with the man who found his love language back on his tongue. Intensity and passion and daring was theirs, as he recalls their discussion of it... as that ferocity couldn't be conveyed without possessive passion. This is his body, and Emet-Selch sought to see it restored and maintained.
It's fortunate that the material, despite being a perfect fit for MTT alone, isn't disagreeable. When it was wanted off, it would slip its way over silicone thighs- and before they know it Emet-Selch has Mettaton that bit more exposed. Mettaton feels the chill of air, the inertia of a stiff cock bouncing to stand proudly on display- but he watches as Emet-Selch collapses closer, and drinks in his moan beside the sound of his own.
From balls to cock, his overall shape wasn't dissimilar from the way Mettaton had always preferred it. It was a perfect replica, in fact, uncannily so; his tip was a firm, full swell, and the rest of him thick enough to suit his large robotic figure. Framed by Emet's fingers, Mettaton patiently keeps as still as he can manage- which isn't much, as he writhes against the bed. He could feel the pent-up, and impending, need to grasp him- and it nearly keeps his thoughts from moving, his lips from forming words, from doing anything more than managing a groan. He is thick, and he spreads his legs slightly to emphasize what was theirs to enjoy.]
In case you don't remember... how could I not be? I'm inundated by... by, ah...
[He couldn't quite find the words to summarize how he felt about sensation. There was the simpleness of air, of held hands, of surfaces and his own touch, or of vibration or tapping. Then there was any deliberate movement upon Mettaton from Emet-Selch, from his every kiss to his embrace, sweet and heady both.
And now he had Emet-Selch's fingers framing his cock, applying pressure to his crotch. Mettaton gasps, squirming some more in aching need- but he can't resist watching Emet-Selch in the end, attention flitting between his hands to his body, his face.
And of course that tattoo's activity remains alight, steady movement paired with a luminous center. But it's a new feature that has fallen by the wayside in MTT's eyes for now, given... this. Given the high, thick curve between his thighs- and all of the promise it brought, to fulfill both of their desires. A conduit for their feelings of heat and love and care- and something Emet-Selch had wished for him to enjoy again.]
Hades... I love you...
[He can't help but utter that. Even if it could be considered a "shortcut" in comparison to working out how to express themselves in other ways, this... was their favored method, and one that was cathartic, deepening their bond with every touch. Mettaton loved it, and wanted it back swiftly.]
no subject
Despite the intensity of their desire, and though half of him expects to be taken up in a ravenous kiss, Mettaton is mollified at the kiss next to his eye. He exhales, lids fluttering closed, and lips parted in his pleasure. Because of course, even these tender actions are pleasurable... and intense, at that. The texture of lips, the gentlest of suctions worthy of a kiss so sweet and simple- he could feel it all, and it marveled, and overwhelmed.
Even when he was used to it, it had never stopped overwhelming.
With his eye closed it manages to take him off-guard to feel Emet-Selch's digit probe the tip of his cock, and he tenses and shudders, wriggling in his spot. Parted lips mean he can't help it when he groans, shivering as his hips perform as they instinctively know to, by thrusting, seeking out more attention when Emet-Selch parts.
Even when haste and need seems to be Mettaton's key, though... he would be more than pleased with the gradual unwrapping process. He thrived under the exclusive, and pointed attention. And even when Emet-Selch begins to pry impossibly sturdy latex from Mettaton's hips, the robot can't help himself when he fixes his attention not on his lap, but on Emet-Selch's face- to gaze upon him rapturously, helplessly in love with the man who found his love language back on his tongue. Intensity and passion and daring was theirs, as he recalls their discussion of it... as that ferocity couldn't be conveyed without possessive passion. This is his body, and Emet-Selch sought to see it restored and maintained.
It's fortunate that the material, despite being a perfect fit for MTT alone, isn't disagreeable. When it was wanted off, it would slip its way over silicone thighs- and before they know it Emet-Selch has Mettaton that bit more exposed. Mettaton feels the chill of air, the inertia of a stiff cock bouncing to stand proudly on display- but he watches as Emet-Selch collapses closer, and drinks in his moan beside the sound of his own.
From balls to cock, his overall shape wasn't dissimilar from the way Mettaton had always preferred it. It was a perfect replica, in fact, uncannily so; his tip was a firm, full swell, and the rest of him thick enough to suit his large robotic figure. Framed by Emet's fingers, Mettaton patiently keeps as still as he can manage- which isn't much, as he writhes against the bed. He could feel the pent-up, and impending, need to grasp him- and it nearly keeps his thoughts from moving, his lips from forming words, from doing anything more than managing a groan. He is thick, and he spreads his legs slightly to emphasize what was theirs to enjoy.]
In case you don't remember... how could I not be? I'm inundated by... by, ah...
[He couldn't quite find the words to summarize how he felt about sensation. There was the simpleness of air, of held hands, of surfaces and his own touch, or of vibration or tapping. Then there was any deliberate movement upon Mettaton from Emet-Selch, from his every kiss to his embrace, sweet and heady both.
And now he had Emet-Selch's fingers framing his cock, applying pressure to his crotch. Mettaton gasps, squirming some more in aching need- but he can't resist watching Emet-Selch in the end, attention flitting between his hands to his body, his face.
And of course that tattoo's activity remains alight, steady movement paired with a luminous center. But it's a new feature that has fallen by the wayside in MTT's eyes for now, given... this. Given the high, thick curve between his thighs- and all of the promise it brought, to fulfill both of their desires. A conduit for their feelings of heat and love and care- and something Emet-Selch had wished for him to enjoy again.]
Hades... I love you...
[He can't help but utter that. Even if it could be considered a "shortcut" in comparison to working out how to express themselves in other ways, this... was their favored method, and one that was cathartic, deepening their bond with every touch. Mettaton loved it, and wanted it back swiftly.]