[The party had been so good. One of the few times Wonderland really got a party right. Though that was mostly because Mettaton was there with him. It would have been an amazing night if Mirrorton hadn't shown up to ruin everything.]
[It's fine. He's not even an issue anymore. Sans has barely even thought about him in months. It's hard to think about bad things when Mettaton is kissing him like this. He gives a shaky sigh as Mettaton's fingers dance across his bones.]
yeah...the...the feedback. i could feel it from you, too.
[He makes another little sound as Mettaton practically grinds against his hip. If that night on the roof was any indication, he's gonna have a hard time keeping his composure. It's like the more into things he is, the more sensitive his bones get.]
i miss it. feeling you like that.
[The certainty. The familiarity. The raw, cold emptiness when he woke up and Mettaton wasn't there anymore. His soul contracts a little at the memory, but Sans manages not to react outwardly. It's okay. They're still here. They still have each other. It'll be good even if they're not in each other's souls when it happens.]
[The pinkish light is practically filling the room, though, and Sans's hand drifts to press gently to the soul container.]
heh, you ain't kidding.
[He's almost surprised Mettaton didn't push him down the moment Sans gave consent. Not that he's complaining. Mettaton probably wants this to be perfect. Sans wants this to be perfect. Perfection is impossible, though, and it's been long enough for him that he knows he's going to be fumbling his way through most of this.]
[The self-doubt starts to gnaw at him, but then Mettaton keeps kissing him and he manages to ward it off. He smiles despite himself.]
i want you. [No, he can do better. It's--it's still hard to say it, still feels wrong coming out of his mouth, like a language he's barely learned, but,] i love you.
this is so gay
[It's fine. He's not even an issue anymore. Sans has barely even thought about him in months. It's hard to think about bad things when Mettaton is kissing him like this. He gives a shaky sigh as Mettaton's fingers dance across his bones.]
yeah...the...the feedback. i could feel it from you, too.
[He makes another little sound as Mettaton practically grinds against his hip. If that night on the roof was any indication, he's gonna have a hard time keeping his composure. It's like the more into things he is, the more sensitive his bones get.]
i miss it. feeling you like that.
[The certainty. The familiarity. The raw, cold emptiness when he woke up and Mettaton wasn't there anymore. His soul contracts a little at the memory, but Sans manages not to react outwardly. It's okay. They're still here. They still have each other. It'll be good even if they're not in each other's souls when it happens.]
[The pinkish light is practically filling the room, though, and Sans's hand drifts to press gently to the soul container.]
heh, you ain't kidding.
[He's almost surprised Mettaton didn't push him down the moment Sans gave consent. Not that he's complaining. Mettaton probably wants this to be perfect. Sans wants this to be perfect. Perfection is impossible, though, and it's been long enough for him that he knows he's going to be fumbling his way through most of this.]
[The self-doubt starts to gnaw at him, but then Mettaton keeps kissing him and he manages to ward it off. He smiles despite himself.]
i want you. [No, he can do better. It's--it's still hard to say it, still feels wrong coming out of his mouth, like a language he's barely learned, but,] i love you.