[Emet-Selch's growl speaks loud and clear to him, but if Mettaton wanted him for any rounds to follow, he didn't want to tear skin. But as he grows closer and closer to spilling, and as the robot commands of him his release, he rewards his tipping point with quick flicks of his wrist, bringing him cleanly past that point. Or, messily.
It's a mix of timing and real demand, thought Mettaton. He wasn't so cruel to keep Emet-Selch from coming when his body was demanding an outlet, but he also knew that his words would have ecstatic relief for his lover. He wouldn't deny him that pleasure.
As Emet-Selch comes undone under his touch and by his word, the robot groans, bright and loud enough to twine with the mage's cry. And from there, a gasp of utter, relieved pleasure at the sight, of the smaller man's ejaculate gushing forth, dribbling over his cock- as the stroke of his fingers slick that semen over both of their lengths, with whatever isn't deposited in an arch enough to smatter his abdomen.
A sight which has Mettaton smiling, mad with glee at his lover's productivity. Nothing was more flattering than Emet-Selch being so enamored of this that he would leave him with so much to work with.]
Hades...!
[Softly he's spellbound, and the hush of his tone is enough to convey that. And where Mettaton watches every detail, every jerk of hips and every twitch of muscle and its resulting push of seed, Emet-Selch is leaning forward- and though his sight of the smaller man's climax is eclipsed by his fall, Mettaton can't resent it at all. He loves it too much, and he nearly croons as he nuzzles Emet-Selch with the side of his face, his cheek nudged against white hair.
The more Emet-Selch spills, the slicker the glide of his fingers- and Mettaton can't help himself as he squeezes around their bases and coaxes more, more of his release, a firm milking of them both, even though he's not the one actively orgasming. He moans as though he is, shivering to match Emet-Selch's shudder, sympathetic to the tensing of muscle and the sudden veering into an ending climax. The smaller man slumps slightly, and Mettaton catches him close, wrapping his hand warmly around their cocks- where Emet-Selch's would gradually soften, and his own... remained hard, and would harden some more.
Especially with the sensation of sticky semen coating him, in a way that he'd never felt so vividly before aside from those times when he shapeshifted into a human. The texture of slick release, heated and cooling and making slick his cock, warmly held against the smaller man's erection, has the robot in a constant tremble, every inch of his body alight with increasing sensitivity. He exhales pure heat, and from clutching onto his hip, Mettaton winds his arm around the smaller man to secure him tight, cradling him in the fold of his bare legs and offering him the expanse of his neck with a tight breath. Emet-Selch may have just came, but Mettaton couldn't help finding every bit of it erotic, from the intensity of his orgasm to the gradual collapse of his husband.
Bit by bit, the squeeze of his fingers around their lengths becomes just a hold-and the roll of his thumb is a mutual thing, as he swirls slowly around the tip of Emet-Selch's sensitive cock, and wraps around his own, increasingly aching length.]
Finally... Finally, I've caught you in my orbit. [After attempts that failed, they spoke each other's language of passion. Mettaton couldn't be happier to connect with Emet-Selch like this again- to have their climaxes mismatched, because one of them couldn't refrain, and the other was endlessly aroused by that intensity, over and over again. He sighs, kissing the side of his head with repetitive pecks, nudging him again his shoulder.] I feel you, and ohh, I love it...
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It's a mix of timing and real demand, thought Mettaton. He wasn't so cruel to keep Emet-Selch from coming when his body was demanding an outlet, but he also knew that his words would have ecstatic relief for his lover. He wouldn't deny him that pleasure.
As Emet-Selch comes undone under his touch and by his word, the robot groans, bright and loud enough to twine with the mage's cry. And from there, a gasp of utter, relieved pleasure at the sight, of the smaller man's ejaculate gushing forth, dribbling over his cock- as the stroke of his fingers slick that semen over both of their lengths, with whatever isn't deposited in an arch enough to smatter his abdomen.
A sight which has Mettaton smiling, mad with glee at his lover's productivity. Nothing was more flattering than Emet-Selch being so enamored of this that he would leave him with so much to work with.]
Hades...!
[Softly he's spellbound, and the hush of his tone is enough to convey that. And where Mettaton watches every detail, every jerk of hips and every twitch of muscle and its resulting push of seed, Emet-Selch is leaning forward- and though his sight of the smaller man's climax is eclipsed by his fall, Mettaton can't resent it at all. He loves it too much, and he nearly croons as he nuzzles Emet-Selch with the side of his face, his cheek nudged against white hair.
The more Emet-Selch spills, the slicker the glide of his fingers- and Mettaton can't help himself as he squeezes around their bases and coaxes more, more of his release, a firm milking of them both, even though he's not the one actively orgasming. He moans as though he is, shivering to match Emet-Selch's shudder, sympathetic to the tensing of muscle and the sudden veering into an ending climax. The smaller man slumps slightly, and Mettaton catches him close, wrapping his hand warmly around their cocks- where Emet-Selch's would gradually soften, and his own... remained hard, and would harden some more.
Especially with the sensation of sticky semen coating him, in a way that he'd never felt so vividly before aside from those times when he shapeshifted into a human. The texture of slick release, heated and cooling and making slick his cock, warmly held against the smaller man's erection, has the robot in a constant tremble, every inch of his body alight with increasing sensitivity. He exhales pure heat, and from clutching onto his hip, Mettaton winds his arm around the smaller man to secure him tight, cradling him in the fold of his bare legs and offering him the expanse of his neck with a tight breath. Emet-Selch may have just came, but Mettaton couldn't help finding every bit of it erotic, from the intensity of his orgasm to the gradual collapse of his husband.
Bit by bit, the squeeze of his fingers around their lengths becomes just a hold-and the roll of his thumb is a mutual thing, as he swirls slowly around the tip of Emet-Selch's sensitive cock, and wraps around his own, increasingly aching length.]
Finally... Finally, I've caught you in my orbit. [After attempts that failed, they spoke each other's language of passion. Mettaton couldn't be happier to connect with Emet-Selch like this again- to have their climaxes mismatched, because one of them couldn't refrain, and the other was endlessly aroused by that intensity, over and over again. He sighs, kissing the side of his head with repetitive pecks, nudging him again his shoulder.] I feel you, and ohh, I love it...