[Were it not for Emet-Selch's intervention in his life, Mettaton may have been entirely on board for the unknown dive into organic human-ing, given the chance to wish it into being (as it seemed the easiest option to gain, well... the fullness of human experience, if that's what he were after). Of course, this required wanting more than he had; this required sensation and experience to desire, as the robot had been more than content with all who he was, all that he felt. Had he wanted more, it would've been a one-way ticket into becoming a human, permanently.
But knowing how much it mattered to his lover that he remain a robot of a mostly infallible structure, plus weighing the considerations that might come with becoming a human, was what persuaded him into considering other avenues. He could keep what made him so uniquely himself, while still regaining important things- and already, more than that.
He's set, and he has his husband. Here he is, pressing into his fingers, and Mettaton feels heartsick and hungry all at once, heated just as much as Emet-Selch flushes, and his eyelid droops that bit more in his lust. ...It's insane, that he just came and is already hungry for more, that niggling sensation of an itch that felt like an emptiness that begged for fullness; and from there, a fullness that begged for emptiness. It never abated, it felt like... And neither did his adoration for Emet-Selch, as jewel-like eyes keep his focus, an amber so lovely Mettaton thought he might treasure it as dearly as he ever had his Puca's Share. Put these on offer for him, and he'd overturn the world.
They could scoot closer. And Mettaton nearly urges Emet-Selch there, licking his lips again- but Emet-Selch's muscles tense so pleasantly, and he could nearly feel their wants align. He wanted to fuck, and Emet-Selch wanted fucked... Wordless, he believes this to be the case, and that violet of his gaze sharpens that much, deepens that bit darker.
But he smiles, eager and excited- and sighs, madly in love. Emet-Selch kisses him nearly, and as soon as the Ascian finishes speaking... Mettaton closes it, sealing the deal.
Has he noticed anything different... Wait, let me kiss you, read Mettaton's actions, and he nudges himself into Emet-Selch's lips to insist on a quick kiss. But he doesn't make it too deep before sighing as he lets the other man glance to his face, and Mettaton... looks down.]
Hmm...
[... Light filters in through the windows, hazy and warm. It bounces on surfaces light, an ambient glow in the room for their lovemaking, leaving nothing to the imagination. And in their laps is evidence of Mettaton's ejaculation, a pink-tinged fluid that sparkled, as though infused with glitter... And fortunately not glitter, as shards of plastic wouldn't feel good for anyone. But sparkly nonetheless, and Mettaton reaches between their bodies to bring a scoop of it onto his finger.
Testing it before their eyes with his hand that formerly groped Emet-Selch's ass, he tacks his fingers against it before spreading them, letting a string of semen rope between them. And though he's smiling dangerously at the beauty of his own come (lordt), he's just as quick to fixate just as darkly on Emet-Selch... before bringing his digits to his own lips.
Hazily, slowly, he draws that plentiful scoop of seed along his lip. Tongue out to taste, to take on some of the burden of come, he sighs heat enough to reach the Ascian, before smacking his lips, glittery seed let to stain silicone. And from there, he sighs again with a slow, long blink, before answering with... nearly a pout to his voice, and one for performance too.]
It's a suitable look for me, don't you agree? However. I can't tell, darling... You'll have to help me. Does it taste as lovely as it looks?
[Does it taste like him? he suggestively asks, a small curve of a smile on glistening, painted lips, milky and painted and so kissable- if semen-covered was worth kissing.]
What's different... and what's not? I want to hear your thoughts.
no subject
But knowing how much it mattered to his lover that he remain a robot of a mostly infallible structure, plus weighing the considerations that might come with becoming a human, was what persuaded him into considering other avenues. He could keep what made him so uniquely himself, while still regaining important things- and already, more than that.
He's set, and he has his husband. Here he is, pressing into his fingers, and Mettaton feels heartsick and hungry all at once, heated just as much as Emet-Selch flushes, and his eyelid droops that bit more in his lust. ...It's insane, that he just came and is already hungry for more, that niggling sensation of an itch that felt like an emptiness that begged for fullness; and from there, a fullness that begged for emptiness. It never abated, it felt like... And neither did his adoration for Emet-Selch, as jewel-like eyes keep his focus, an amber so lovely Mettaton thought he might treasure it as dearly as he ever had his Puca's Share. Put these on offer for him, and he'd overturn the world.
They could scoot closer. And Mettaton nearly urges Emet-Selch there, licking his lips again- but Emet-Selch's muscles tense so pleasantly, and he could nearly feel their wants align. He wanted to fuck, and Emet-Selch wanted fucked... Wordless, he believes this to be the case, and that violet of his gaze sharpens that much, deepens that bit darker.
But he smiles, eager and excited- and sighs, madly in love. Emet-Selch kisses him nearly, and as soon as the Ascian finishes speaking... Mettaton closes it, sealing the deal.
Has he noticed anything different... Wait, let me kiss you, read Mettaton's actions, and he nudges himself into Emet-Selch's lips to insist on a quick kiss. But he doesn't make it too deep before sighing as he lets the other man glance to his face, and Mettaton... looks down.]
Hmm...
[... Light filters in through the windows, hazy and warm. It bounces on surfaces light, an ambient glow in the room for their lovemaking, leaving nothing to the imagination. And in their laps is evidence of Mettaton's ejaculation, a pink-tinged fluid that sparkled, as though infused with glitter... And fortunately not glitter, as shards of plastic wouldn't feel good for anyone. But sparkly nonetheless, and Mettaton reaches between their bodies to bring a scoop of it onto his finger.
Testing it before their eyes with his hand that formerly groped Emet-Selch's ass, he tacks his fingers against it before spreading them, letting a string of semen rope between them. And though he's smiling dangerously at the beauty of his own come (lordt), he's just as quick to fixate just as darkly on Emet-Selch... before bringing his digits to his own lips.
Hazily, slowly, he draws that plentiful scoop of seed along his lip. Tongue out to taste, to take on some of the burden of come, he sighs heat enough to reach the Ascian, before smacking his lips, glittery seed let to stain silicone. And from there, he sighs again with a slow, long blink, before answering with... nearly a pout to his voice, and one for performance too.]
It's a suitable look for me, don't you agree? However. I can't tell, darling... You'll have to help me. Does it taste as lovely as it looks?
[Does it taste like him? he suggestively asks, a small curve of a smile on glistening, painted lips, milky and painted and so kissable- if semen-covered was worth kissing.]
What's different... and what's not? I want to hear your thoughts.