[His invitation is met exactly as desired, but it still manages to awe him. His patient smile dressed up in gloss that shimmered inspires Emet-Selch to meet him in a kiss unabashedly erotic. But before, Mettaton basks under his scrutiny, for all that he knew that it was observation of the most loving sort: Emet-Selch was drinking in his traits, but entirely because he loved all he saw, and sought to ascribe it to memory, he thought. He felt heated, and so too did Mettaton.
His answer did lie on his face. Or, against his face. His tongue. Emet-Selch tastes his lips in a kiss that deepens, and Mettaton can't help but lean into it, humming and drawing the smaller man close, winding him up in his embrace. But even that wasn't responsible for Emet-Selch's lack of distance, he knew. Emet-Selch was only drawing back so far because he enjoyed all of this, from the proximity to the intimacy to the feeling of being trapped in his arms.
The only answer Emet-Selch gets is a deepening kiss and a hum, as he draws him in. Emet-Selch talks against his lips, but Mettaton takes him in again, catching his lower lip and sucking upon it, leaving it swollen, leaving him eager for more. He could taste the slow appreciation... and wanted to set fire to it, as he ever did.]
But doesn't its new qualities remind you of me, too? [A simple query, as Mettaton grins against his lips.] You won't be able to mistake it, darling. When you're made a mess of... you'll see both of our efforts, and make note when it's the both of us mixed.
[But he wouldn't be able to mistake it even before, as his memory was too good to fail recalling who climaxed when, where. Milky seed before was a product of them both... but the robot was looking forward to showing his man just how much of it was him- and in addition, how much of it was Emet-Selch.
Of course it was sentimental. They'd wanted this fiercely, and now... it was something they could share in together. Mettaton kisses him slowly, tongue smoothing over Emet-Selch's slick lip before returning that nudge of noses for the third time. But it's then that his fingers are presented before them both, as he'd discreetly slipped low and scooped up another fingerful of seed- which he slicks over Emet-Selch's lip, encouraging him to taste him.
And just encouraging him to do the arousing task of enjoying him. Mettaton sighs and even groans, hips rolling slow at the notion that he was slipping Emet-Selch an intimate taste of himself. But he similarly forces the Ascian to slip forward. And that meant settling firmly onto the root of his own cock, Emet-Selch's balls nudged against a sticky shaft... and soon, he nearly groans to consider the smaller man settling deeper onto his lap, breathless and shifting in his eagerness.]
Hades, mmm... You'll tend to me, won't you? [Front his fingers... to the erection he knew he'd be quick to develop.]
no subject
His answer did lie on his face. Or, against his face. His tongue. Emet-Selch tastes his lips in a kiss that deepens, and Mettaton can't help but lean into it, humming and drawing the smaller man close, winding him up in his embrace. But even that wasn't responsible for Emet-Selch's lack of distance, he knew. Emet-Selch was only drawing back so far because he enjoyed all of this, from the proximity to the intimacy to the feeling of being trapped in his arms.
The only answer Emet-Selch gets is a deepening kiss and a hum, as he draws him in. Emet-Selch talks against his lips, but Mettaton takes him in again, catching his lower lip and sucking upon it, leaving it swollen, leaving him eager for more. He could taste the slow appreciation... and wanted to set fire to it, as he ever did.]
But doesn't its new qualities remind you of me, too? [A simple query, as Mettaton grins against his lips.] You won't be able to mistake it, darling. When you're made a mess of... you'll see both of our efforts, and make note when it's the both of us mixed.
[But he wouldn't be able to mistake it even before, as his memory was too good to fail recalling who climaxed when, where. Milky seed before was a product of them both... but the robot was looking forward to showing his man just how much of it was him- and in addition, how much of it was Emet-Selch.
Of course it was sentimental. They'd wanted this fiercely, and now... it was something they could share in together. Mettaton kisses him slowly, tongue smoothing over Emet-Selch's slick lip before returning that nudge of noses for the third time. But it's then that his fingers are presented before them both, as he'd discreetly slipped low and scooped up another fingerful of seed- which he slicks over Emet-Selch's lip, encouraging him to taste him.
And just encouraging him to do the arousing task of enjoying him. Mettaton sighs and even groans, hips rolling slow at the notion that he was slipping Emet-Selch an intimate taste of himself. But he similarly forces the Ascian to slip forward. And that meant settling firmly onto the root of his own cock, Emet-Selch's balls nudged against a sticky shaft... and soon, he nearly groans to consider the smaller man settling deeper onto his lap, breathless and shifting in his eagerness.]
Hades, mmm... You'll tend to me, won't you? [Front his fingers... to the erection he knew he'd be quick to develop.]