[Mettaton knew that Emet-Selch had been looking out for him. For his pleasure and his ecstasy and his enjoyment. Even during these past months when Mettaton had tried for sex with him, hadn't Emet-Selch been focused on what Mettaton couldn't experience with him? What he couldn't respond to- and Mettaton knew he felt isolated. But he also knew that Emet-Selch responded to his own pleasure- and was carried away with it. Ths is just a fact, and when he could respond in this way, he could see the result.
With his climax coming to an end, Emet-Selch so attractively draws off of his cock- leaving him cold to the ambient air, and Mettaton's hips jerk again just to impress upon Emet-Selch how much he enjoyed the security of his mouth. So Emet-Selch pulls off, and as though meeting his kiss, his cock is shoved against his lips, leaving a sticky line of seed against him.
He's reeling. Emet-Selch took him with such dedication, and the idol felt nothing short of grateful for it all. He knew they'd both have wished for this outcome, and he felt pleased to know that they prioritized how they came together in blissful ecstasy, in attempting to bridge what space existed between them. To watch Emet-Selch now was to see him with defenses dropped, focused and pleased to be in service... while similarly enjoying himself, as the robot knew how aroused he'd be by now. A thought to ache over again, as though oversensitivity weren't enough to have him shuddering.
Mettaton groans at the sight of Emet-Selch smearing come over his lips, the still-swollen tip an applicator. To... smooth semen over his lips- and when he lifts his head just barely, enough to speak to Mettaton with his lips still against his cock, the impression of his lips glistening catches Mettaton's breath. If there's something pecuiar about the content of his climax, not even Mettaton notices it entirely- and finds that Emet-Selch's lips should be flush with color, and glistening to boot. (A bit like lip gloss, but he doesn't think anything other than how lovely he looks, and how it matches the flush to his feature, the mussiness of his hair.)]
You know how easily you can do me in. It's almost unfair. [His pout is all for show, though he's taken aback at how quickly Emet-Selch could have him screaming in orgasm... Not really, though. Because that was expected of him.] I... I can barely think, still. I feel so... vividly, ah... I need you, my love...
[And needed him, just like this, in this way so intimate. With another shudder, Mettaton's posture slouches in his overcome, and his hands rove down Emet-Selch's neck and grope at the smaller man's upper back. Releasing him from the welcome prison of his legs, he still wants him close. For now, he slumps over him, eclipsing light as he tries to hold onto him despite his body's momentary disagreeableness.
With a sigh, he pets through his skin, fingers rubbing over his scalp.] And you... how did you like me?
no subject
With his climax coming to an end, Emet-Selch so attractively draws off of his cock- leaving him cold to the ambient air, and Mettaton's hips jerk again just to impress upon Emet-Selch how much he enjoyed the security of his mouth. So Emet-Selch pulls off, and as though meeting his kiss, his cock is shoved against his lips, leaving a sticky line of seed against him.
He's reeling. Emet-Selch took him with such dedication, and the idol felt nothing short of grateful for it all. He knew they'd both have wished for this outcome, and he felt pleased to know that they prioritized how they came together in blissful ecstasy, in attempting to bridge what space existed between them. To watch Emet-Selch now was to see him with defenses dropped, focused and pleased to be in service... while similarly enjoying himself, as the robot knew how aroused he'd be by now. A thought to ache over again, as though oversensitivity weren't enough to have him shuddering.
Mettaton groans at the sight of Emet-Selch smearing come over his lips, the still-swollen tip an applicator. To... smooth semen over his lips- and when he lifts his head just barely, enough to speak to Mettaton with his lips still against his cock, the impression of his lips glistening catches Mettaton's breath. If there's something pecuiar about the content of his climax, not even Mettaton notices it entirely- and finds that Emet-Selch's lips should be flush with color, and glistening to boot. (A bit like lip gloss, but he doesn't think anything other than how lovely he looks, and how it matches the flush to his feature, the mussiness of his hair.)]
You know how easily you can do me in. It's almost unfair. [His pout is all for show, though he's taken aback at how quickly Emet-Selch could have him screaming in orgasm... Not really, though. Because that was expected of him.] I... I can barely think, still. I feel so... vividly, ah... I need you, my love...
[And needed him, just like this, in this way so intimate. With another shudder, Mettaton's posture slouches in his overcome, and his hands rove down Emet-Selch's neck and grope at the smaller man's upper back. Releasing him from the welcome prison of his legs, he still wants him close. For now, he slumps over him, eclipsing light as he tries to hold onto him despite his body's momentary disagreeableness.
With a sigh, he pets through his skin, fingers rubbing over his scalp.] And you... how did you like me?