[It stung in a way that felt more pointed to him due to how quickly relief had surged, how fierce their feelings had been now that Mettaton had his enhanced body. A desperation to reach out that had been cut brutally short. It also wasn't comfortable to be brought to the Ascian's level of arousal and have it be subsumed by something furious and sick and bleak. Had disappointment ever struck him this way?]
What you started- [He reiterates, as sharp as the other man was soft.] I wasn't the one who took us into this position, when I had everything well in hand.
[Of course, then he made it worse himself by not emotionally adjusting to the change, which frustrated him another time, as though he weren't allowed to react poorly. Weren't meant to be frustrated, or have control over what he was willing to endure. Whether he was on his back or not, it was up to his husband's whim, and for all the roles that they took on, it irked to have it presented so plainly--
With his hair continuing to be touched, and the robot's body shifting to give him even less of his length, Emet-Selch finally regards him again. His gaze is as defensive as it is guarded, protecting a core that felt far more wounded than what little his body had been given to work with. Mettaton spoke of closeness- but wouldn't give it to him, and all because neither of them would enjoy it.]
Do I look as though I care whether it's enjoyable or not?
[For either of them, though he would be the only one in more active discomfort. With his hands fallen from him, his legs half follow, as he was coming to the sinking conclusion that Mettaton wouldn't be pressing on and indulging his misery. And where the sensible thing might have been to accept that unfortunate conclusion gracefully, to accept his company as it was, Emet-Selch hadn't made it this far in life by making the right decisions, and he wasn't going to start now.
Not when his upset hadn't bled from him; not when he had an available target.]
So if you're not- if you're not going to let us be close- why are you still here at all? I'd suggest leaving myself but I'm hardly in the position for it.
no subject
What you started- [He reiterates, as sharp as the other man was soft.] I wasn't the one who took us into this position, when I had everything well in hand.
[Of course, then he made it worse himself by not emotionally adjusting to the change, which frustrated him another time, as though he weren't allowed to react poorly. Weren't meant to be frustrated, or have control over what he was willing to endure. Whether he was on his back or not, it was up to his husband's whim, and for all the roles that they took on, it irked to have it presented so plainly--
With his hair continuing to be touched, and the robot's body shifting to give him even less of his length, Emet-Selch finally regards him again. His gaze is as defensive as it is guarded, protecting a core that felt far more wounded than what little his body had been given to work with. Mettaton spoke of closeness- but wouldn't give it to him, and all because neither of them would enjoy it.]
Do I look as though I care whether it's enjoyable or not?
[For either of them, though he would be the only one in more active discomfort. With his hands fallen from him, his legs half follow, as he was coming to the sinking conclusion that Mettaton wouldn't be pressing on and indulging his misery. And where the sensible thing might have been to accept that unfortunate conclusion gracefully, to accept his company as it was, Emet-Selch hadn't made it this far in life by making the right decisions, and he wasn't going to start now.
Not when his upset hadn't bled from him; not when he had an available target.]
So if you're not- if you're not going to let us be close- why are you still here at all? I'd suggest leaving myself but I'm hardly in the position for it.