A shudder goes through Essek's body, back arching and toes curling as warm fingers slide over his hole as though testing what he can take. Instinctively, he wants to bite back the higher pitched whine that rises in his throat, but decides to let Percival hear it instead. Let him think of this today. Let him be eager to return to it the moment they're alone again.
"Impatient enough that I need you to hurry," he replies, breathy and urgent and still pumping both of their cocks together. He's still tender from last night, which means stretching him won't be such and ordeal, and the lingering soreness means he is going to feel everything that much more intensely, which is also not a bad thing. With anyone else it would be embarrassing, but for his husband he doesn't mind making a display of himself. And Percival is clearly eager to have him, so all the better.
The sound Essek makes goes straight to his cock. Percival buries his face against his husband's hair. There is some part of him that insists they really shouldn't linger in bed, that they both need time to bathe and dress and make themselves presentable.
But gods he is not sure he could deny Essek right now even if he actually wanted to.
"Cast that spell you use," he murmurs, voice heavy against Essek's ear. He is not going to say prestidigitation before he's had coffee and while his husband is stroking him so expertly. Percy is nearly sure it's a cantrip and, more than that, it will save him looking for anything else. As soon as he feels the slick oil on his fingers, he resumes rubbing and teasing over Essek's hole before taking a risk and pushing two in at once. They were quite active last night and he is hoping the stretch isn't too much. Essek said he was impatient, and Percy is taking him at his word.
Essek is keenly aware of the time they'll need for all of those things. He also selfishly and spitefully ignoring it. There's pride and reassurance to be taken from this. Percival is making him a priority--and not only that, but he wants him badly enough to possibly delay their plans. Somehow, Essek must manage to keep his smugness to himself. His husband is eager and cute, requesting that spell you use like the name escapes him so soon after waking. Essek casts it for him with a whispered word and a fingertip dragging over his palm.
His strokes falter a little as that oil is spread over his hole, and stop entirely for a moment when Essek gasps as two fingers press into him. He curls closer to his human, burying his face against his neck. After last night, two is just enough, and his well used body accepts them without pain beyond a lingering ache that Essek doesn't mind. He's sensitive to pain, doesn't enjoy it, and still doesn't find this uncomfortable.
"Yes, yes..." he encourages quietly, rocking his hips back this time instead of forward to press Percy's fingers deeper. "Like that, keep going."
Percival has not forgotten Essek's aversion to pain and, for as long as they've been intimate, he's been careful to respect that. This is rushing, but not beyond what Essek is willing to take and his eager reaction, coupled with verbal encouragement, offers reassurance of that.
He murmurs Essek's name again as his fingers sink deeper into him. Despite their mutual impatience, Percy takes time to tease and stretch, to coax Essek's body into relaxing further so that taking him is possible.
"Gods it is too early for you to feel this good," he sighs, voice edged with a moan. He curls his fingers to stroke over the spot he knows will make Essek squirm. "Tell me when you feel ready, love."
Essek's lips spread wider in what nearly becomes a laugh buried against his husband's neck. His head tilts so that he rests against the pillow, so he can look down between them and watch his hand move lazily and Percival's move with far more intent. His body sings with it, his want so powerful it is truly beginning to edge into need.
His eyelids slip down to half mast and one of his own sharp teeth rakes over his lower lip as he contemplates some smug, flirtatious reply to a statement he finds so oddly flattering it sinks right to his cock. But then his beloved's clever fingers curl just right and his body shakes, curls, writhes. He mumbles a sweet curse under his breath in Undercommon, uninhibited, and his spine stretches in a long, elegant arch for the sole purpose of fucking himself on his husband's searching fingers to find more of that perfect, electric pleasure.
"Oh," he groans. "You are going to undo me like this, dear one." His stomach feels tight, muscles tensed, as he drags his thigh higher up over Percival's hip, and his hole feels worked open, remarkably loose around two of his thick human fingers. "You had better start using your cock." His tongue passes over his lips, and absently he kisses Percy's neck again. Contemplates leaving another mark there. "Is this how you want me?"
It's tempting to get Essek off like this, but the wizard's encouragement makes his course of action very clear.
"Yes," he answers as Essek's lips drag over his neck. "A little more help, love." Since Essek's hand is already well-positioned to offer more lubrication, there's no reason not to ask. It will help, given their apparent commitment to doing this now.
Percival shifts their position just so and he reaches to guide himself. His breath catches in his throat as he pushes into his husband. Then he moves to push Essek onto his back and he finally moans as he sinks deeper. He grabs his husband's thigh to keep it against his hip as he grinds close. It occurs to him he could have - perhaps should have - gone slower and he pushes himself up on his forearm so that he can actually see Essek's face.
"All right?" he asks, quietly breathless and just a little concerned.
Readily, Essek provides more oil with another casting of that spell he does and makes sure his husband's cock is thoroughly coated before he releases it. He begins pressing inside a moment later, and Essek takes a sharp breath before he's pushed onto his back. Percival fills him in the same motion, pushing in to the hilt, making Essek's head spin briefly. He makes a soft sound, almost surprised, though they've done this enough that he knows exactly how this fullness feels. But there is an additional intensity this morning, fucked open again on the heels of the night before, and he feels especially sensitive.
His clean hand finds Percy's face as he leans up to check in with him, his thumb tracing a sharp cheek bone. Light, his husband is a handsome man. "Yes," he answers, almost equally breathless as his thighs tighten on both sides of Percy's hips. "Yes, you are perfect."
Their faces are close enough that he barely has to strain his neck to kiss him, light and sweet. "Fuck me, Percival," he murmurs. "I want to feel you until we can do this again tonight." His other arm circles around Percy's side, his long black nails hooking like claws into his back. Flushed and flustered with arousal, his hair messy with sleep, Essek's smirk is heated, his eyes bright and intent. "It isn't as though I need to walk."
Percy's shoulders relax as Essek reassures him and he leans down to meet the kiss. The encouragement isn't necessary, but gods he will be hearing Essek's voice whispering fuck me in his head for the rest of the day. His breath catches sharply as his husband's manicured nails dig against his back. While Essek has an aversion to pain... there are certain kinds that Percival enjoys. And he certainly doesn't seem to mind Essek's nails and teeth leaving welts and bruises.
He groans at that wicked confession and he presses into another kiss, harder this time, devouring. His knees slide further apart so that he can properly fuck his husband, one hand still on his thigh as the other slides up Essek's arm, drawing his hand away from his face so that he can pin it to the bed, fingers laced together. Percival doubts his stamina will serve him this morning, but he is still intent on making this good for Essek.
"I quite like the idea of you feeling me all day," he pants. Essek is beautiful like this, face flushed and lips parted and eyes bright. Percy adores him. He tips his head, lips moving over Essek's ear before gently biting the lobe.
Percival is a force all his own, with a mind as beautiful and brilliant and complex as any Essek has ever admired, a body that is solid and strong and attractive, and a heart that has clearly taken a beating and yet still has enough tenderness left to love him of all people. He's remarkable in every way, and it really shouldn't mystify Essek every time that even in bed he continues to surprise and excite.
They kiss again, intense and consuming, and Essek practically melts into it as his desire spikes. When he can take a full breath again, Percy is bracing himself on the bed, shifting his center of gravity to fuck him better in a way Essek could run calculations and equations on if he was of a mind to. And he takes his hand, leads it away and down to the sheets, where he pins it with his own. Essek might have once found this too constrictive or controlling, considering all he needs his hands for, but now he not only allows it, but finds that it excites him. He willingly gives himself over to his husband, and the way he interlaces their fingers as he looks adoringly down at him is...romantic.
As if that weren't enough to put Essek in a truly compromised state, he just has to turn his words back on him in that low voice and nip at his ear. He squirms beneath Percy, arching and twisting as pleasure fizzles through him, a shiver that makes him all the more aware of the hot, hard length of his husband's cock buried fully inside him as he clenches around it. His nails scrape further up Percival's pale back and his lips part enough to show his teeth. The noise he makes is embarrassingly close to a whine, and so honest he feels his blush deepen. In more than a century he's never found pleasure the way he has in this man's bed.
"Make me," he whispers, trying to recover something of his dignity with demanding heat. His hips shift in an impatient circle. "Remind me that I am yours."
Percy is usually a quiet man in bed. He is very responsive, but rarely loud. Even so, Essek earns a moan as his nails drag up Percy's back. The heated challenge sends a jolt straight through him and he drags Essek's thigh higher along his side, nearly bending him. Then he lets go, moving his hand between them to wrap around his husband's cock.
The line between pleasant soreness and something more uncomfortable might be fine, but even now Percival is attentive to Essek and the way he responds. He's learning when he can push and when he shouldn't, what degree of roughness Essek enjoys versus what will turn him off. It's becoming second nature, a foundation of information he can build on regardless of the... demands of the situation.
He strokes Essek as he fucks him, trying not to get completely swept up in the urgency building in him. Percival is already right on the edge, but even if he should come before his husband, he has no intention of stopping until he sees Essek satisfied.
Essek too tends to be on the quieter side--or so he'd thought, until he started going to bed with Percival de Rolo regularly. Though he's not loud or wanton by any means, he's made more noise with him than any previous partner. But he's also allowed more from Percy than any previous partner and let go with him in a way he never has before. Still, the way he gasps softly with every firm thrust and whispers his husband's name as tension coils at the base of his spine is...unlike him. Or unlike how he used to be, at least.
His fingers tighten against Percy's where they're laced together and he can't stop looking up at him. Voluntarily he lifts both thighs even further until he's folded almost in half, knees pulled up near his shoulders. There's no sign of discomfort as his tenderness bleeds into every other sensation he's feeling, as his husband's cock grinds over that spot that has pleasure radiating through his body, as he strokes him right along with it.
"More," he urges, "like this, dearest, yes..." The rest he speaks in Undercommon, heated words and phrases Percival will likely be able to recognize by now, even if he doesn't know the translation.
Percy's hand tightens against Essek's as the drow practically bends himself in half, welcoming him deeper and keeping the angle just so. He doesn't understand fully what Essek is saying to him when he slips into Undercommon, but he doesn't really need to, either. Not with that tone... not given what they're doing right this moment.
Tension builds in him as he fucks Essek as hard as he dares, ever-cautious of that line between rough pleasure and discomfort. He murmurs his own breathless praise, telling Essek how good he feels, how impossible to resist.
There really is only so long he could last first thing in the morning. Percival lets go of his husband's cock so that he can hook his arm beneath Essek's knee, keeping it up as his rhythm nearly breaks. He arches over the other man as that tension in him snaps. Percy comes with a sharp moan of his husband's name, but he doesn't let himself lose too much momentum. Not yet.
That tension is building in Essek too, right alongside the satisfaction he feels at knowing how much his husband is enjoying him. Even if he weren't telling him in so many words, Essek would feel it in the way his thrusts become increasingly desperate, even as he admirably manages to maintain a pattern. It's almost worth losing the hand around his cock to feel Percival holding up his knee as that composure of his wears thin, rutting into him and curling over him until his pleasure becomes too much.
Essek's nails drag over Percy's back as he feels him come, a sharply hissed phrase of encouragement in Undercommon slipping out. Hearing his own name as the other man pulses inside him makes him shudder. The continued pressure on his prostate feels divine, but he knows he isn't going to finish without touching his cock. He could do that himself, of course, but both of his hands are currently occupied, and he wants Percival's touch more than anything.
"Light, that feels good," he whispers, returning to heavily accented Common. Tucking his face against Percy's throat, he sucks another mark into his skin, teeth scraping and tongue soothing.
Percy gasps sharply, back arching as Essek's nails rake down his back. He lets his hips slow, grinding lazily against his husband as Essek sucks another bruise onto his neck. Even panting, he grins. When the wizard decides he's quite finished, Percival pulls away with some reluctance. But Essek hasn't finished, and he simply cannot have that.
He says nothing as he trails kisses and gentle bites down along Essek's chest and stomach. The hand that had been pinning his husband's to the bed lets go to slide down along his side instead, then lower still. Two fingers push easily into Essek's body and Percy cannot help a quiet groan when he feels the mess he's just left behind. His other hand runs over Essek's hip before wrapping around his cock, and just a breath later, Percy's guiding him into his mouth. He bobs his head slowly as his fingers set a pace that nearly matches the way he'd been fucking Essek just a few moments ago. But his fingers are far more precise, and soon enough he curls them to make sure he is giving Essek the exact pressure and attention he needs.
He loves this. As much as he enjoys bedding his husband, Percy delights in getting him off. Especially while his back still feels raw from the way Essek's clawed him up.
Essek knows Percival will take care of him. He always does, thoroughly and completely, and Essek loves to see the pleasure he takes in it. He relaxes into the bed as much as he can as his husband pulls out of him, then works his way down his body with mouth and hands. His intent is easy to read, but when he presses two fingers back inside him, then takes him into his mouth a moment later, Essek's breath still stutters. His thighs spread wider and both of his hands find purchase in Percy's short white hair, making a real mess of it.
He was well on the way to his own orgasm with Percival reached his, the intensity of that building tension ramps up again quickly with the accuracy of his husband's fingers and the skill of his mouth. Essek has to do very little but lay back and enjoy Percival's attentions. And he does, with open appreciation.
"Yes, yes, right there," he gasps in Undercommon, letting Percy hear the quick, stilted quality of his voice even in his own tongue. "You are so good at this, clever boy, you'll make me come so quickly."
His body is already tensing, heat building and spreading through every nerve. He watches Percival's head bob between his legs, his mouth around his cock, but even that grows more difficult as his vision blurs at the edges. His hips shift restlessly, trying to decide rather to fuck up between his husband's lips or down onto his fingers, rubbing so precisely against his sweet spot.
The praise sinks in, even if Percy can't understand entirely what it is. He's picking up words here and there, ones Essek has used often enough before. He loves hearing Essek's voice like this, though, breathless and quick with a rising urgency. As his husband squirms between his fingers and his mouth, Percival decides to ease his plight. He manages a rhythm between his efforts, something Essek could mindlessly follow if he feels the need to. He doesn't stick to it precisely, though.
Percy lifts his head and his other hand wraps around Essek's cock to take over stroking so that he can look up the length of his husband's body, admiring the state he's in. Then he begins to fuck Essek a little harder, faster.
"Is it your aim to send me to this reunion with my voice raw?" he teases before lowering his head to press an open-mouth kiss to Essek's hip.
He really doesn't need to, but with Percival making it so easy, why shouldn't he arch against him and follow the rhythm he sets? As he arches up, his words trail off to sounds, panted breaths, until Percy's mouth leaves him and his hand takes over. Then Essek laughs, soft and strained but genuine.
"Would that be uncouth?" he challenges, managing to sound arch despite being so close to coming he loses track of the pace when Percy speeds up, strung tense against the bed. He grasps at his husband's hair, so sensitive he trembles at the brush of lips against his hip, and tries to rock against his fingers with far less grace than he'd had earlier. It's all a blur of sensation, powerful and good, and it ramps rapidly. His thin chest fills with air and empties with a shudder as he tries to hold on just a little longer, just for a moment, to let it build up more. He'll be seeing stars.
Essek gazes down between white lashes, a stark contrast to how dark his eyes have become. "Percival, your mouth," he snaps, far more imperative than he'd intended. But he can't be bothered to mind his tone when he's this close, when he's certain the first brush of his husband's lips will undo him completely.
The way Essek snaps has heat sinking through him, and if he hadn't just come, Percy imagines it could lead to another round. He closes his eyes and leans down, following the drag of Essek's hand until he can guide his husband's cock back into his mouth. He allows a quiet moan and keeps up the pace of his fingers. He loves feeling the way Essek chases his pleasure.
His arm tightens around his husband's thigh when he finally comes. Percival feels his cock pulse against his tongue, tastes him, swallows without hesitation. He keeps fucking the wizard for a few more intense seconds before he finally slows his hand, growing more gentle, more like a caress than actually thrusting anymore.
Only when he's sure that Essek has finished does Percy lift his head. He rests it against Essek's thigh, eyes nearly closed in contentment as he looks up at his husband.
Essek's orgasm hollows him out, a rush of pleasure so intense he shakes with it as he spills into the welcoming heat of his husband's talented mouth, then Percival makes him squirm more as his fingers continue moving inside him, gradually winding him down. He pants for breath and his own fingers slowly relax their grip on Percy's short hair, stroking over it slow and soothing instead as the man relaxes against his thigh.
"That was...very good," he says finally, when he's caught his breath. He's smiling, small and slightly dazed. Yet again he's glad that he can float, because he doesn't know that his legs would support him any time soon. "One day soon we are going to spend all morning like this," he decides.
More than anything, he wishes it could be this morning. But at the very least he feels a little better about meeting Percival's friends now that his husband will have this encounter fresh in his mind and a few of Essek's marks fresh on his neck.
Percival brushes a kiss to Essek's thigh when he's given that praise. For a little while, he stays right where he is, enjoying the gentle caress and the sound of Essek's breathing. They can't linger as long as either of them would apparently like, though he is quite gratified to know that his husband would like to linger.
His hand strokes over Essek's hip and thigh before Percy pushes himself up to sit. He can feel the welts on his back as much as he can the faint soreness of bruises on his neck. If he can't hide them, so be it. Though he finds himself wondering if that was quite on purpose.
"I'd like that." Especially because it suggests that Essek plans to spend the night with him again, whether trancing or sleeping. He looks at his husband, admiring him in his afterglow.
As Percival gets up, Essek remains right where he is, sprawled out on the bed, legs splayed, a hand rubbing over his face, and still recovering his faculties. He'll have to muster up the will to roll out of bed very soon, but he can allow himself a few more moments to soak in that experience.
His gaze ticks up at Percy's question, catching his eye. Essek's expression remains neutral, though internally every bit of his anxiety, both legitimate and exaggerated, spikes at once. The prompt was gentle, but Essek has to wonder how much his husband is aware of.
"Do I have reason to be?"
A deliberate non-answer in his usual avoidant style, a little sharp. He regrets it almost immediately. No matter how worried Essek is about what might come of today's meeting, or the next several weeks, Percival deserves better than being lied to by omission. And Essek has decided that he isn't going to be the kind of person who would deceive the man he loves. Not anymore. Glancing away, he sighs, releasing a little of his sudden tension.
Percival's look is sympathetic as Essek looks away. He crawls higher and gently tips his husband's chin to coax Essek to look at him.
"I will not let dignitaries and representatives from Wildemount profane you, and I will not allow my friends to." His thumb strokes gently over Essek's chin and Percy leans close to kiss him. "You are my husband, Essek. Even if we did not choose our marriage, I like to think we have chosen each other."
They could live their live separately. Essek could be purely decorative in his role, performative, but he isn't. He takes his role on the council seriously, and more than that, they have found something in each other. They have chosen companionship and trust, and it turns out they are quite attracted to each other. It is more than Percy could have asked for, and he is not about to throw Essek to the wolves now. Even if those wolves are his dearest friends. Whatever their concerns, he trusts they will see in this man what Percy sees.
He gives Essek another gentle kiss, this one lingering for a moment longer.
Essek's face falls, showing a little of his internal strife as Percy crawls back up to turn his face toward him. Returning that soft kiss, he feels...not chastened, because Percival is being too kind for that. But a little foolish, maybe. What indication has his husband given that he would be so ready to abandon him? If anything, he's proven his willingness to remain in this marriage, and his resolve to protect Essek's dignity. He's been considerate and generous in every way possible, a better spouse than Essek could ever have dared hope for.
But that's just it. What has he done to deserve this? How can he believe that someone like Percival would want to choose him, faced with so many reasons he shouldn't?
Self-aware enough to know the insecurity lies with him, Essek can't hold Percy's gaze for long. He should trust his husband, and he does in most of the ways that count. But this...he can't shake the fear that he may be right. Representatives from another continent and dubious dignitaries here are one thing, but if Percival's closest comrades see only a man using their friend to avoid his own well-deserved death sentence...
"It is difficult to trust," he says quietly, surprising himself with his own honest vulnerability, "when I so often feel unworthy of you."
Percy catches Essek's hand and presses a tender kiss to his palm.
"We are both men who carry regrets," he says quietly. "And I think... I am more dashing in your mind than I really am."
He offers a weaker smile and he squeezes Essek's hand. Percy isn't trying to brush off Essek's vulnerability, but trying hard to make it known that he is not--He coaxes Essek's arm around his shoulders and gathers his husband close to kiss him again.
"Whatever you have done - whatever we have done - I want to believe it is not the end of who we are. I'd like to live long enough to be someone else." He's rambling, he realizes, and that is not a particularly attractive or helpful quality in this moment. He strokes his husband's cheek. "Which is to say... I find you worthy, Essek And I hope it is within my power to help you feel that way in time."
Essek has been in this position before. Faced with a man he loves and admires, told that they have both done things that are irredeemable, but that they can live to be more than their sins. The ache in his heart is familiar. Wanting to trust, to hope, that it is true. His palm tingles with the imprint of Percival's lips, and soon his mouth does too. As though given permission, he clutches his husband tight the moment his arm is guided over his shoulders.
Like this, he is made to look up at Percival, and with every moment he does the next becomes a little easier. The kindness and understanding in his face still stings, but bearing that is the least he can do.
"I want that also," he says, hushed. "I want to be someone else. To leave the man I was behind and do something more with my life. With you, I feel that is possible." His brow furrowed, he reaches for his husband's face to touch his cheek, mirroring the fingers stroking gently over his own. "And I want to help you do the same."
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"Impatient enough that I need you to hurry," he replies, breathy and urgent and still pumping both of their cocks together. He's still tender from last night, which means stretching him won't be such and ordeal, and the lingering soreness means he is going to feel everything that much more intensely, which is also not a bad thing. With anyone else it would be embarrassing, but for his husband he doesn't mind making a display of himself. And Percival is clearly eager to have him, so all the better.
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But gods he is not sure he could deny Essek right now even if he actually wanted to.
"Cast that spell you use," he murmurs, voice heavy against Essek's ear. He is not going to say prestidigitation before he's had coffee and while his husband is stroking him so expertly. Percy is nearly sure it's a cantrip and, more than that, it will save him looking for anything else. As soon as he feels the slick oil on his fingers, he resumes rubbing and teasing over Essek's hole before taking a risk and pushing two in at once. They were quite active last night and he is hoping the stretch isn't too much. Essek said he was impatient, and Percy is taking him at his word.
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His strokes falter a little as that oil is spread over his hole, and stop entirely for a moment when Essek gasps as two fingers press into him. He curls closer to his human, burying his face against his neck. After last night, two is just enough, and his well used body accepts them without pain beyond a lingering ache that Essek doesn't mind. He's sensitive to pain, doesn't enjoy it, and still doesn't find this uncomfortable.
"Yes, yes..." he encourages quietly, rocking his hips back this time instead of forward to press Percy's fingers deeper. "Like that, keep going."
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He murmurs Essek's name again as his fingers sink deeper into him. Despite their mutual impatience, Percy takes time to tease and stretch, to coax Essek's body into relaxing further so that taking him is possible.
"Gods it is too early for you to feel this good," he sighs, voice edged with a moan. He curls his fingers to stroke over the spot he knows will make Essek squirm. "Tell me when you feel ready, love."
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His eyelids slip down to half mast and one of his own sharp teeth rakes over his lower lip as he contemplates some smug, flirtatious reply to a statement he finds so oddly flattering it sinks right to his cock. But then his beloved's clever fingers curl just right and his body shakes, curls, writhes. He mumbles a sweet curse under his breath in Undercommon, uninhibited, and his spine stretches in a long, elegant arch for the sole purpose of fucking himself on his husband's searching fingers to find more of that perfect, electric pleasure.
"Oh," he groans. "You are going to undo me like this, dear one." His stomach feels tight, muscles tensed, as he drags his thigh higher up over Percival's hip, and his hole feels worked open, remarkably loose around two of his thick human fingers. "You had better start using your cock." His tongue passes over his lips, and absently he kisses Percy's neck again. Contemplates leaving another mark there. "Is this how you want me?"
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"Yes," he answers as Essek's lips drag over his neck. "A little more help, love." Since Essek's hand is already well-positioned to offer more lubrication, there's no reason not to ask. It will help, given their apparent commitment to doing this now.
Percival shifts their position just so and he reaches to guide himself. His breath catches in his throat as he pushes into his husband. Then he moves to push Essek onto his back and he finally moans as he sinks deeper. He grabs his husband's thigh to keep it against his hip as he grinds close. It occurs to him he could have - perhaps should have - gone slower and he pushes himself up on his forearm so that he can actually see Essek's face.
"All right?" he asks, quietly breathless and just a little concerned.
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His clean hand finds Percy's face as he leans up to check in with him, his thumb tracing a sharp cheek bone. Light, his husband is a handsome man. "Yes," he answers, almost equally breathless as his thighs tighten on both sides of Percy's hips. "Yes, you are perfect."
Their faces are close enough that he barely has to strain his neck to kiss him, light and sweet. "Fuck me, Percival," he murmurs. "I want to feel you until we can do this again tonight." His other arm circles around Percy's side, his long black nails hooking like claws into his back. Flushed and flustered with arousal, his hair messy with sleep, Essek's smirk is heated, his eyes bright and intent. "It isn't as though I need to walk."
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He groans at that wicked confession and he presses into another kiss, harder this time, devouring. His knees slide further apart so that he can properly fuck his husband, one hand still on his thigh as the other slides up Essek's arm, drawing his hand away from his face so that he can pin it to the bed, fingers laced together. Percival doubts his stamina will serve him this morning, but he is still intent on making this good for Essek.
"I quite like the idea of you feeling me all day," he pants. Essek is beautiful like this, face flushed and lips parted and eyes bright. Percy adores him. He tips his head, lips moving over Essek's ear before gently biting the lobe.
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They kiss again, intense and consuming, and Essek practically melts into it as his desire spikes. When he can take a full breath again, Percy is bracing himself on the bed, shifting his center of gravity to fuck him better in a way Essek could run calculations and equations on if he was of a mind to. And he takes his hand, leads it away and down to the sheets, where he pins it with his own. Essek might have once found this too constrictive or controlling, considering all he needs his hands for, but now he not only allows it, but finds that it excites him. He willingly gives himself over to his husband, and the way he interlaces their fingers as he looks adoringly down at him is...romantic.
As if that weren't enough to put Essek in a truly compromised state, he just has to turn his words back on him in that low voice and nip at his ear. He squirms beneath Percy, arching and twisting as pleasure fizzles through him, a shiver that makes him all the more aware of the hot, hard length of his husband's cock buried fully inside him as he clenches around it. His nails scrape further up Percival's pale back and his lips part enough to show his teeth. The noise he makes is embarrassingly close to a whine, and so honest he feels his blush deepen. In more than a century he's never found pleasure the way he has in this man's bed.
"Make me," he whispers, trying to recover something of his dignity with demanding heat. His hips shift in an impatient circle. "Remind me that I am yours."
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The line between pleasant soreness and something more uncomfortable might be fine, but even now Percival is attentive to Essek and the way he responds. He's learning when he can push and when he shouldn't, what degree of roughness Essek enjoys versus what will turn him off. It's becoming second nature, a foundation of information he can build on regardless of the... demands of the situation.
He strokes Essek as he fucks him, trying not to get completely swept up in the urgency building in him. Percival is already right on the edge, but even if he should come before his husband, he has no intention of stopping until he sees Essek satisfied.
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His fingers tighten against Percy's where they're laced together and he can't stop looking up at him. Voluntarily he lifts both thighs even further until he's folded almost in half, knees pulled up near his shoulders. There's no sign of discomfort as his tenderness bleeds into every other sensation he's feeling, as his husband's cock grinds over that spot that has pleasure radiating through his body, as he strokes him right along with it.
"More," he urges, "like this, dearest, yes..." The rest he speaks in Undercommon, heated words and phrases Percival will likely be able to recognize by now, even if he doesn't know the translation.
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Tension builds in him as he fucks Essek as hard as he dares, ever-cautious of that line between rough pleasure and discomfort. He murmurs his own breathless praise, telling Essek how good he feels, how impossible to resist.
There really is only so long he could last first thing in the morning. Percival lets go of his husband's cock so that he can hook his arm beneath Essek's knee, keeping it up as his rhythm nearly breaks. He arches over the other man as that tension in him snaps. Percy comes with a sharp moan of his husband's name, but he doesn't let himself lose too much momentum. Not yet.
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Essek's nails drag over Percy's back as he feels him come, a sharply hissed phrase of encouragement in Undercommon slipping out. Hearing his own name as the other man pulses inside him makes him shudder. The continued pressure on his prostate feels divine, but he knows he isn't going to finish without touching his cock. He could do that himself, of course, but both of his hands are currently occupied, and he wants Percival's touch more than anything.
"Light, that feels good," he whispers, returning to heavily accented Common. Tucking his face against Percy's throat, he sucks another mark into his skin, teeth scraping and tongue soothing.
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He says nothing as he trails kisses and gentle bites down along Essek's chest and stomach. The hand that had been pinning his husband's to the bed lets go to slide down along his side instead, then lower still. Two fingers push easily into Essek's body and Percy cannot help a quiet groan when he feels the mess he's just left behind. His other hand runs over Essek's hip before wrapping around his cock, and just a breath later, Percy's guiding him into his mouth. He bobs his head slowly as his fingers set a pace that nearly matches the way he'd been fucking Essek just a few moments ago. But his fingers are far more precise, and soon enough he curls them to make sure he is giving Essek the exact pressure and attention he needs.
He loves this. As much as he enjoys bedding his husband, Percy delights in getting him off. Especially while his back still feels raw from the way Essek's clawed him up.
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He was well on the way to his own orgasm with Percival reached his, the intensity of that building tension ramps up again quickly with the accuracy of his husband's fingers and the skill of his mouth. Essek has to do very little but lay back and enjoy Percival's attentions. And he does, with open appreciation.
"Yes, yes, right there," he gasps in Undercommon, letting Percy hear the quick, stilted quality of his voice even in his own tongue. "You are so good at this, clever boy, you'll make me come so quickly."
His body is already tensing, heat building and spreading through every nerve. He watches Percival's head bob between his legs, his mouth around his cock, but even that grows more difficult as his vision blurs at the edges. His hips shift restlessly, trying to decide rather to fuck up between his husband's lips or down onto his fingers, rubbing so precisely against his sweet spot.
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Percy lifts his head and his other hand wraps around Essek's cock to take over stroking so that he can look up the length of his husband's body, admiring the state he's in. Then he begins to fuck Essek a little harder, faster.
"Is it your aim to send me to this reunion with my voice raw?" he teases before lowering his head to press an open-mouth kiss to Essek's hip.
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"Would that be uncouth?" he challenges, managing to sound arch despite being so close to coming he loses track of the pace when Percy speeds up, strung tense against the bed. He grasps at his husband's hair, so sensitive he trembles at the brush of lips against his hip, and tries to rock against his fingers with far less grace than he'd had earlier. It's all a blur of sensation, powerful and good, and it ramps rapidly. His thin chest fills with air and empties with a shudder as he tries to hold on just a little longer, just for a moment, to let it build up more. He'll be seeing stars.
Essek gazes down between white lashes, a stark contrast to how dark his eyes have become. "Percival, your mouth," he snaps, far more imperative than he'd intended. But he can't be bothered to mind his tone when he's this close, when he's certain the first brush of his husband's lips will undo him completely.
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His arm tightens around his husband's thigh when he finally comes. Percival feels his cock pulse against his tongue, tastes him, swallows without hesitation. He keeps fucking the wizard for a few more intense seconds before he finally slows his hand, growing more gentle, more like a caress than actually thrusting anymore.
Only when he's sure that Essek has finished does Percy lift his head. He rests it against Essek's thigh, eyes nearly closed in contentment as he looks up at his husband.
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"That was...very good," he says finally, when he's caught his breath. He's smiling, small and slightly dazed. Yet again he's glad that he can float, because he doesn't know that his legs would support him any time soon. "One day soon we are going to spend all morning like this," he decides.
More than anything, he wishes it could be this morning. But at the very least he feels a little better about meeting Percival's friends now that his husband will have this encounter fresh in his mind and a few of Essek's marks fresh on his neck.
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His hand strokes over Essek's hip and thigh before Percy pushes himself up to sit. He can feel the welts on his back as much as he can the faint soreness of bruises on his neck. If he can't hide them, so be it. Though he finds himself wondering if that was quite on purpose.
"I'd like that." Especially because it suggests that Essek plans to spend the night with him again, whether trancing or sleeping. He looks at his husband, admiring him in his afterglow.
"Are you nervous?"
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His gaze ticks up at Percy's question, catching his eye. Essek's expression remains neutral, though internally every bit of his anxiety, both legitimate and exaggerated, spikes at once. The prompt was gentle, but Essek has to wonder how much his husband is aware of.
"Do I have reason to be?"
A deliberate non-answer in his usual avoidant style, a little sharp. He regrets it almost immediately. No matter how worried Essek is about what might come of today's meeting, or the next several weeks, Percival deserves better than being lied to by omission. And Essek has decided that he isn't going to be the kind of person who would deceive the man he loves. Not anymore. Glancing away, he sighs, releasing a little of his sudden tension.
"A bit, perhaps."
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"I will not let dignitaries and representatives from Wildemount profane you, and I will not allow my friends to." His thumb strokes gently over Essek's chin and Percy leans close to kiss him. "You are my husband, Essek. Even if we did not choose our marriage, I like to think we have chosen each other."
They could live their live separately. Essek could be purely decorative in his role, performative, but he isn't. He takes his role on the council seriously, and more than that, they have found something in each other. They have chosen companionship and trust, and it turns out they are quite attracted to each other. It is more than Percy could have asked for, and he is not about to throw Essek to the wolves now. Even if those wolves are his dearest friends. Whatever their concerns, he trusts they will see in this man what Percy sees.
He gives Essek another gentle kiss, this one lingering for a moment longer.
"Trust me in this, at least."
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But that's just it. What has he done to deserve this? How can he believe that someone like Percival would want to choose him, faced with so many reasons he shouldn't?
Self-aware enough to know the insecurity lies with him, Essek can't hold Percy's gaze for long. He should trust his husband, and he does in most of the ways that count. But this...he can't shake the fear that he may be right. Representatives from another continent and dubious dignitaries here are one thing, but if Percival's closest comrades see only a man using their friend to avoid his own well-deserved death sentence...
"It is difficult to trust," he says quietly, surprising himself with his own honest vulnerability, "when I so often feel unworthy of you."
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"We are both men who carry regrets," he says quietly. "And I think... I am more dashing in your mind than I really am."
He offers a weaker smile and he squeezes Essek's hand. Percy isn't trying to brush off Essek's vulnerability, but trying hard to make it known that he is not--He coaxes Essek's arm around his shoulders and gathers his husband close to kiss him again.
"Whatever you have done - whatever we have done - I want to believe it is not the end of who we are. I'd like to live long enough to be someone else." He's rambling, he realizes, and that is not a particularly attractive or helpful quality in this moment. He strokes his husband's cheek. "Which is to say... I find you worthy, Essek And I hope it is within my power to help you feel that way in time."
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Like this, he is made to look up at Percival, and with every moment he does the next becomes a little easier. The kindness and understanding in his face still stings, but bearing that is the least he can do.
"I want that also," he says, hushed. "I want to be someone else. To leave the man I was behind and do something more with my life. With you, I feel that is possible." His brow furrowed, he reaches for his husband's face to touch his cheek, mirroring the fingers stroking gently over his own. "And I want to help you do the same."
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