[Violence for another day... another time when he could repair his robes with something other than a needle and thread. Emet-Selch hums his gratitude to Mettaton's 'mercy', temporary as it was, when they both knew the excitement it could provoke, to indulge in more monstrous things together. Not that there weren't ways that Mettaton couldn't show it off as it was, while sparing materials that wouldn't repair themselves.]
Mm... I'll look forward to it.
[Both to those times when Mettaton would demonstrate the monster he remained (As Emet-Selch decided that so many of those 'monstrous' traits his lover had demonstrated as a puca, weren't there because he was a puca. Or even because he was a monster now and always- but simply because he was Mettaton.), and to exploring everything they could overwhelm each other with.
The passion to their kiss was unmistakable, an energy that they each committed to, a blending of themselves. Where Mettaton's ran energetic, while Emet-Selch's persisted slower and heavier, the amount of charge felt aligned, their differences complementary.
And it was a charge that wasn't disrupted even when their kiss paused, when Mettaton noticed something that had become exposed with the removal of the mage's outer robes. Shivering any time his skin was touched, his body was alight with heat, and even when the taller man points out something strange, he doesn't think anything of it, at first.
But if he was to look anywhere else from Mettaton's face or body, it would be down towards his own crotch, the notable bulge there something worth groaning over. But it's a short stop from there to his hip, where- Emet-Selch wasn't sure what he'd been expecting from his lover's exclamation, but that hadn't been it. Startled, for a moment he wondered how in the world Mettaton had transferred his tattoo to him- but no, the robot's was still there, and instead there was an exact replica lurking on his own body.]
That- was not here this morning....
[A statement that could apply equally to the glowing pattern and to his erection, which felt unfathomably hard. And which remained distracting, despite being faced with this mystery on his hip. Mettaton's mixed attention was understandable, given that his own was similarly compromised. His legs wished to spread, thighs twitching in the desire to thrust, to receive his husband's hand and attention, as directly on himself as possible. He felt impatient to be exposed, while enjoying this tightness, the pulse of ache.
But there was the strangeness at his hip- or the suggestion of it, as it wasn't visible in its entirety like this, even with Mettaton having pushed more of the fabric out of the way. As near as he could tell, it was identical to the robot's... but why? And how? Brushing the edge of it with his fingers, he hisses softly, body tensing at the strange stimulation of it. It was probably only because he was already aroused that it was acting like another erogenous zone, but he couldn't pretend that it wasn't sensitive.
Yet despite all this, as it wasn't doing anything to hinder their sex, Emet-Selch would have to admit that unraveling the strangeness wasn't his highest priority. What was a potentially-permanent design on his body in comparison to his erection? To Mettaton's reaction to it, and the other man's ability to appreciate it with him?]
Whatever it is- can wait. Mettaton, I need--
[Relief, him- they were one in the same thing. If the tattoo's existence sharpened that sensation, he was unaware; everything he felt, felt exactly as it was meant to.]
no subject
Mm... I'll look forward to it.
[Both to those times when Mettaton would demonstrate the monster he remained (As Emet-Selch decided that so many of those 'monstrous' traits his lover had demonstrated as a puca, weren't there because he was a puca. Or even because he was a monster now and always- but simply because he was Mettaton.), and to exploring everything they could overwhelm each other with.
The passion to their kiss was unmistakable, an energy that they each committed to, a blending of themselves. Where Mettaton's ran energetic, while Emet-Selch's persisted slower and heavier, the amount of charge felt aligned, their differences complementary.
And it was a charge that wasn't disrupted even when their kiss paused, when Mettaton noticed something that had become exposed with the removal of the mage's outer robes. Shivering any time his skin was touched, his body was alight with heat, and even when the taller man points out something strange, he doesn't think anything of it, at first.
But if he was to look anywhere else from Mettaton's face or body, it would be down towards his own crotch, the notable bulge there something worth groaning over. But it's a short stop from there to his hip, where- Emet-Selch wasn't sure what he'd been expecting from his lover's exclamation, but that hadn't been it. Startled, for a moment he wondered how in the world Mettaton had transferred his tattoo to him- but no, the robot's was still there, and instead there was an exact replica lurking on his own body.]
That- was not here this morning....
[A statement that could apply equally to the glowing pattern and to his erection, which felt unfathomably hard. And which remained distracting, despite being faced with this mystery on his hip. Mettaton's mixed attention was understandable, given that his own was similarly compromised. His legs wished to spread, thighs twitching in the desire to thrust, to receive his husband's hand and attention, as directly on himself as possible. He felt impatient to be exposed, while enjoying this tightness, the pulse of ache.
But there was the strangeness at his hip- or the suggestion of it, as it wasn't visible in its entirety like this, even with Mettaton having pushed more of the fabric out of the way. As near as he could tell, it was identical to the robot's... but why? And how? Brushing the edge of it with his fingers, he hisses softly, body tensing at the strange stimulation of it. It was probably only because he was already aroused that it was acting like another erogenous zone, but he couldn't pretend that it wasn't sensitive.
Yet despite all this, as it wasn't doing anything to hinder their sex, Emet-Selch would have to admit that unraveling the strangeness wasn't his highest priority. What was a potentially-permanent design on his body in comparison to his erection? To Mettaton's reaction to it, and the other man's ability to appreciate it with him?]
Whatever it is- can wait. Mettaton, I need--
[Relief, him- they were one in the same thing. If the tattoo's existence sharpened that sensation, he was unaware; everything he felt, felt exactly as it was meant to.]