Tear? No way. [Mettaton has far too much faith in his body's composition, despite it being new to him. He's cocky, and he smirks at Emet-Selch, jutting his hips so that's prominently displaying his cock.] I can handle a little more hardness.
[He's also thinking instead about what might tear on himself, apparently, or at least to start. It's hard to do anything else, especially when the mage grips him at the base and pumps him, slow and steady... Testing his structure, from the hardness of his core (which he readily anticipates that Emet-Selch is appraising for its sturdiness, to slip down his throat and properly fill him out) to the plush give of how squeezable he was (which he dreamed of being squeezed, Emet-Selch let to groan as the fullness of his tip was pressed just past his entrance for him to clench around).
Syncing up with the moment Emet-Selch slips up his length, pinching the glans reverently. Mettaton shudders, sinking into Emet-Selch's touch.]
Hard enough to keep you full, I'd hope. ...Ah. But not to hurt you, I see...
[Too hard and he might hurt Emet-Selch? (Or tear him... No. Mettaton did not want something like that to happen.) When he thought about preserving his husband, it made sense to not want to give him too much stiffness or size... Which was just fine. As far as Mettaton was aware, this was his cock now, and this was how he would present to his husband. So far, it seemed appropriately sized- stiff enough and big enough for Emet-Selch to consider him worth his time, which Mettaton takes as a compliment rather than a true sentiment of judgement.
Enjoying thoroughly his slow, deliberate touch, savoring his appreciation, Mettaton hums an inquisitive noise that almost veers into a whine when his hand departs. He pulls back just enough to look between them, and gasps at the sight of his lover's gip at the base of his softened cock. A good slick slip up its length later (and deliciously, Mettaton thought- he'd salivate, and that realization nearly has him laugh) and he was well-coated, any surplus of come added to his hand.
Which is wrapped right back around Mettaton's length. He realizes then what Emet-Selch was doing. Instead of putting on a show for him, Emet-Selch was just making him even more sticky with his release, and Mettaton melts some more under his touch with a groan. He tilts into Emet-Selch's kiss, eyelids heavying, letting himself be overwhelmed by the pleasure of his touch.]
Ah... Yes, I... I can tell you enjoy it... Ohh...
[He was obviously rapt, attentive and present, giving Mettaton all of his attention. The robot feel so soft for him even while he presents so hard, his erection standing alert no matter how firmly the Ascian strokes him over with seed-sticky fingers. It only brought him to greater hardness it felt like, as Mettaton groans in tandem with his lover, thrusting shortly into his grasp. Steadying Emet-Selch upon his lap by his hips, Mettaton nuzzles him, cheek to cheek.]
I love you, Hades. No matter how hard I get... I can't help but feel so lovesick for you, sweetheart. [Turning, he fixes him with a properly woozy smile, overcome with his love for him. That was some way of expressing how soft he felt despite everything, as his lips part for a gasp, as Emet-Selch fondles the thickness of his erection.] I hope you see how I feel, too. This body of mine... is made to make my feelings for you obvious.
[And now, it was made even more prone to expression. This was one avenue where Mettaton couldn't control how he felt- and he loved it for that, quite shamelessly, as his legs spread and he rolls his hips, tensing up so that he's in full presentation.]
no subject
[He's also thinking instead about what might tear on himself, apparently, or at least to start. It's hard to do anything else, especially when the mage grips him at the base and pumps him, slow and steady... Testing his structure, from the hardness of his core (which he readily anticipates that Emet-Selch is appraising for its sturdiness, to slip down his throat and properly fill him out) to the plush give of how squeezable he was (which he dreamed of being squeezed, Emet-Selch let to groan as the fullness of his tip was pressed just past his entrance for him to clench around).
Syncing up with the moment Emet-Selch slips up his length, pinching the glans reverently. Mettaton shudders, sinking into Emet-Selch's touch.]
Hard enough to keep you full, I'd hope. ...Ah. But not to hurt you, I see...
[Too hard and he might hurt Emet-Selch? (Or tear him... No. Mettaton did not want something like that to happen.) When he thought about preserving his husband, it made sense to not want to give him too much stiffness or size... Which was just fine. As far as Mettaton was aware, this was his cock now, and this was how he would present to his husband. So far, it seemed appropriately sized- stiff enough and big enough for Emet-Selch to consider him worth his time, which Mettaton takes as a compliment rather than a true sentiment of judgement.
Enjoying thoroughly his slow, deliberate touch, savoring his appreciation, Mettaton hums an inquisitive noise that almost veers into a whine when his hand departs. He pulls back just enough to look between them, and gasps at the sight of his lover's gip at the base of his softened cock. A good slick slip up its length later (and deliciously, Mettaton thought- he'd salivate, and that realization nearly has him laugh) and he was well-coated, any surplus of come added to his hand.
Which is wrapped right back around Mettaton's length. He realizes then what Emet-Selch was doing. Instead of putting on a show for him, Emet-Selch was just making him even more sticky with his release, and Mettaton melts some more under his touch with a groan. He tilts into Emet-Selch's kiss, eyelids heavying, letting himself be overwhelmed by the pleasure of his touch.]
Ah... Yes, I... I can tell you enjoy it... Ohh...
[He was obviously rapt, attentive and present, giving Mettaton all of his attention. The robot feel so soft for him even while he presents so hard, his erection standing alert no matter how firmly the Ascian strokes him over with seed-sticky fingers. It only brought him to greater hardness it felt like, as Mettaton groans in tandem with his lover, thrusting shortly into his grasp. Steadying Emet-Selch upon his lap by his hips, Mettaton nuzzles him, cheek to cheek.]
I love you, Hades. No matter how hard I get... I can't help but feel so lovesick for you, sweetheart. [Turning, he fixes him with a properly woozy smile, overcome with his love for him. That was some way of expressing how soft he felt despite everything, as his lips part for a gasp, as Emet-Selch fondles the thickness of his erection.] I hope you see how I feel, too. This body of mine... is made to make my feelings for you obvious.
[And now, it was made even more prone to expression. This was one avenue where Mettaton couldn't control how he felt- and he loved it for that, quite shamelessly, as his legs spread and he rolls his hips, tensing up so that he's in full presentation.]