Oh what an amazing thing, to see him thrash about so, helpless. At least helpless until he sees a flash of red and hears the creak and snap of the metal bar. It certainly does give Byleth pause, his hands covering still above the other man and eyes wide with surprise.
And then he laughs. It's beyond that huffing, hiccupping sound he usually makes when something hits him just right. No this is still quite unpracticed, but far more elevated. Brief as it is, before he gets a hold on himself, and Emet has already repaired the broken bar.
"Oh my. You are... magnificently sensitive, aren't you? Well- ha. I'll have to come back to that one now, won't I? You'll have to tell me more about that red sigil. Later though. Much as my curiosity needs sated, I think there are other things that need sated sooner." He smooths his palms over the man's skin, affording him a moment after that, before his hands wander toward his chest. Kneading and squeezing it shamelessly, he takes a moment for his own enjoyment here, before he moves to teasing Emet's nipples to stiff peaks. The sword-calloused pads of his fingers no doubt making it all the better.
"What if we tried a feather here, hmm?" He of course, doesn't wait for an answer. He picks up his little weapons and draws each of them over the sensitive rises, using the soft edge of them to flick and tease. For some, this is unbearably ticklish, and for others, it's a heavenly feeling. He's curious to know where Emet falls in this. Either way will be a treat.
He doesn't linger for too long though, and he sets on his merry way again, working systematically down his lover's body. Testing his sides, belly, the cups of his hips, the soft crease of skin where thigh meets groin, all the way down his legs to his feet. Carefully waiting for each answer, and when he receives it, Emet is rewarded with a warm hand on his cock. Stroking him until he's at an edge, and then abandoning him to continue extracting as much mirth as he can. It's a terrible back and fourth, and Byleth is all too happy to drive him utterly mad with it.
He wonders if he could make him beg, or if Emet's stubbornness would keep him from doing so. Again, both options are wonderful. Byleth wins either way.
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And then he laughs. It's beyond that huffing, hiccupping sound he usually makes when something hits him just right. No this is still quite unpracticed, but far more elevated. Brief as it is, before he gets a hold on himself, and Emet has already repaired the broken bar.
"Oh my. You are... magnificently sensitive, aren't you? Well- ha. I'll have to come back to that one now, won't I? You'll have to tell me more about that red sigil. Later though. Much as my curiosity needs sated, I think there are other things that need sated sooner." He smooths his palms over the man's skin, affording him a moment after that, before his hands wander toward his chest. Kneading and squeezing it shamelessly, he takes a moment for his own enjoyment here, before he moves to teasing Emet's nipples to stiff peaks. The sword-calloused pads of his fingers no doubt making it all the better.
"What if we tried a feather here, hmm?" He of course, doesn't wait for an answer. He picks up his little weapons and draws each of them over the sensitive rises, using the soft edge of them to flick and tease. For some, this is unbearably ticklish, and for others, it's a heavenly feeling. He's curious to know where Emet falls in this. Either way will be a treat.
He doesn't linger for too long though, and he sets on his merry way again, working systematically down his lover's body. Testing his sides, belly, the cups of his hips, the soft crease of skin where thigh meets groin, all the way down his legs to his feet. Carefully waiting for each answer, and when he receives it, Emet is rewarded with a warm hand on his cock. Stroking him until he's at an edge, and then abandoning him to continue extracting as much mirth as he can. It's a terrible back and fourth, and Byleth is all too happy to drive him utterly mad with it.
He wonders if he could make him beg, or if Emet's stubbornness would keep him from doing so. Again, both options are wonderful. Byleth wins either way.