Hah-! [ childe snorts, about to say something when emet grabs his throat. he chokes out a laugh, grunting the moment his back hits the couch. his hands fly to emet’s chest, nails sharpening to claws as he digs in to shoot his best glare at him, which, at the moment, is probably nothing short of pathetic. he gasps, squirming beneath him as he gets hard all over again, because, yes, he’s into this. ]