It's an easy shift to thread his fingers through Percival's hair instead, restless, until he lowers his mouth to his cock and takes him between his lips. Essek cries out louder than he has yet as Percival's fingers also curl deeper inside him, and he gasps and profanes his way through the various stages of being explored and tasted. His hips gradually arch up as Percy swallows him down again. The intensity is almost overwhelming, and he has to consciously force himself to lay flat, toes curling in the bedsheets.
"Oh k'allis, see on kõik, im'e mind'e, ava mind'e lai'alt..."
Nearly every word he murmurs in his own tongue is somewhere between encouragement and pure filth. After such a long build up Essek feels his arousal spike hard and not taper off, pleasure climbing rapidly now that it is concentrated and deliberate. His cock is dripping over Percy's tongue, and tension building near the base of his spine tells him he is going to come very soon if his gorgeous husband continues to both fuck him with his fingers and suck him off. But Essek isn't worried; a second orgasm is not only feasible for him, but practically a given.
With another soft moan, Essek's hips rock up again, and he feels as though he is both going to lift into the air and melt into the bed. "I am going to spill into this lovely mouth and you are going to swallow for me," he hisses, gathering all the authority he can while he feels his self-control waning. "Aren't you, my sweet boy?"
Percival doesn't speak Undercommon, but he's starting to think he needs to make a study. He doesn't need to understand the words to glean meaning, though. Having his husband's cock in his mouth makes him control his breathing and it's easy for Percy to sink into the act, to give himself over to it: all of his attention and finesse for Essek alone. He finds a rhythm between his fingers and his mouth, something to encourage more sweet sounds from the wizard. It is a pleasure to hear his voice.
He lowers himself more until he can slide his arm beneath Essek's thigh, wrapping around it to hold him close as his hips start moving. His eyes flick up when he hears Common again. The praise washes over him and Percy offers a slow suck as he lifts his head. He doesn't pop off, though, doesn't offer an answer beyond the way his arm briefly tightens around Essek's thigh and a caress across his hip. He is absolutely going to swallow whatever his husband has to give.
Though his focus remains soley on Essek, Percy finds himself seeking the relief of friction. He rocks his hips against the bed beneath them, careful not to work himself up too much.
Percy takes Essek down as he pushes his fingers deep, still persistently working him open. As he draws them back, he pays attention, looking very deliberately for that spot that will encourage his orgasm. Every thrust after that is short and calculated, keeping the pressure steady. He tries to pay attention to all the warning signs: he doesn't want to choke and risk losing anything.
Percival's continued dedication is noted, and restlessly, Essek deigns to card his fingers through his husband's short hair. "Of course. I knew that you would want to be good for me," he sighs, pleased, and lets himself enjoy every bit of the pleasure Percy is bringing him between his fingers and his mouth.
The gentle stretch Essek still feels as two dexterous human fingers fuck into him is offset by the incredible wet heat of Percy's mouth sucking him so perfectly. The tension building at the base of his spine climbs higher, but all at once it ratchets tight and intense when Percy's fingers press deep and curl. It couldn't be more obvious that he's found what he's looking for when Essek's hips grind down hard against his hand and his lips part on a harsh gasp, a low whine, and then a groan as he keeps putting pressure there.
"Oh, light--"
His cock twitches against Percy's tongue, precome welling up steadily as the surplus of sensation becomes almost too much to handle for a man who hasn't been touched this way in more than three decades. He feels light-headed, focus drifting. Hazy violet eyes flutter closed, long white lashes bright against his dark his skin. It takes less than a minute for Essek's brow to knit up and his thighs go tight and begin quivering as the tension builds and builds. His release is no surprise when it comes, but it is a bone-deep relief. Essek's back arches and he clutches hard at Percival's hand as he whimpers his way through the most intense orgasm he's had in years, spilling into his mouth as promised.
It's a shame he doesn't have a better view, but Percy resolves to try to see his husband fall apart from a better angle if he gets the chance.
As it is, he keeps after Essek, applying skill and passion in equal measure as he's rewarded with elegant fingers gripping his hair and every gasp, whimper, and moan from the gorgeous man beneath him. Percy's arm tightens around Essek's thigh and he can't help a quiet moan of his own as his husband pushes toward him rather than squirming away.
Percival adjusts the thrust of his fingers to match the way Essek grinds against him, encouraging him as he feels the elf's thighs press against his shoulders. He rather likes feeling the quiver in his muscles as tension draws Essek's body tight. And it's all the more satisfying when it finally snaps. Percy moves his head back just enough to ensure he won't choke as his husband strains to push into him and against him. The heavier taste that coats his tongue is swallowed away before he bobs his head down again, taking Essek as deep as he dares as he shivers apart in Percy's arms. He squeezes Essek's hand, offering a tender gesture as his husband grabs at him.
He doesn't stop until he's sure that he's wrung Essek out. He releases Essek's cock and swallow again before pressing a wet kiss to dark skin. Then Percy lets himself catch his breath, head resting against Essek's stomach. His fingers are still buried, but he no longer torments with direct pressure or speed. They're barely moving at all, in fact, allowing Essek a moment of reprieve without withdrawing.
Essek's entire body buzzes even after he he sinks back into it off the high of climax. His chest fills and empties as he takes air into his lungs greedily, eyes still closed. His cock lays spent against his stomach, still wet from his husband's mouth, and the two fingers inside him move just enough to keep a base level of sensation, almost soothing. That gradual stretch still feels deeply satisfying even after he's come, but rather than seeking it himself, he lets Percival do the work.
His fingers flex and then stretch, and he drags them out of Percy's hair to cover his eyes with his forearm. The dark plum purple flush in his face has spread everywhere, and he feels hot and pleasantly heavy with that persistent tingling in his limbs. Every movement feels like it requires extra effort. But it's good. A wonderful, languid laziness, like all the tension has been fucked out of him. His toes uncurl against the bedsheets, and his thighs drift gradually further open again as he relaxes.
"Good," he breathes at last. With some effort, his arm shifts two inches higher, resting against his forehead, so Essek's eyes can blink open, looking down the length of his body at Percival. The wide, dark pupils contract against the influx of light. Low light for a human, but much brighter to a drow's sensitive eyes. "Very good. You may...continue." His lips press together hard enough for him to feel the prick of his own sharp canines against the inside of his mouth. "You will know better than I when I am ready to take you. Just be thorough. I don't care for pain."
Percy watches Essek work through his afterglow, first hiding his face as he tries to catch his breath. He doesn't try to rush his husband, just lets the moment unfold as Essek needs it to. The languid, heavy movements bring a certain satisfaction, knowing that he's the cause of Essek's relaxation. He smiles when he finally hears Essek's voice and Percy tips his head to brush another kiss across the elf's stomach, tongue flicking out to taste his skin.
He makes a note that his husband doesn't care for pain. He'll be sure to avoid it.
After another few moments, Percy adjusts his position, releasing Essek's thigh so that he can push himself up without pulling his fingers free. They slide out a bit as he moves, but soon enough they sink back in.
"You are entrancing to watch," he admits, voice warm and quiet. He leans down to brush a trail of kisses over Essek's sternum. "But I think I knew you would be."
Which suggests he might have thought about this before now.
Percival seems to consider for a moment, debating how best to approach this. He absolutely does not want to hurt Essek with carelessness, and while two fingers might be sufficient... maybe it would be better to work him open just a bit more. He withdraws his fingers slowly, just to spread the oil that's on them.
"Tell me if it's too much." His gaze is intent on Essek's face as he strokes over his hole, teasing a bit before he carefully pushes three fingers back in. Percy watches for any sign of discomfort or tension, sinking in slowly to give Essek's body time to relax and adjust.
I knew you would be, Percival says, and Essek's long ears flicker just slightly, as though pricking up at an interesting sound. The intensity with which they'd fallen into each other tonight is a strong indicator that they had each acknowledged their attraction to one another well beforehand, but a confirmation that Percival has thought of him like this before makes something flutter pleasantly in Essek's stomach.
The press of a third finger inside him is about the only thing that could distract him from that idea. It's a good thing that he'd opted to come sooner rather than later. Relaxed from his orgasm, he takes them much more easily than he would have otherwise, with more oil and a little gentle but insistent pressure. Percival is honestly very good at this. He's patient and attentive, attuned to Essek's body in a way that Essek quietly marvels at. He's never had a lover quite like this. But it's a tight fit regardless, and he takes a sharp breath as they press all the way in to the last knuckle. That's--light, that's a lot. It doesn't hurt precisely, but he does feel very full.
"It is more than I have had before, I think," he admits. "But...not bad. Just, ah, just a moment--"
Lifting his arm from his forehead, Essek reaches above him to grab the corner of one of the more solid pillows on the bed and tug it down toward him. His muscles still feel a little like pudding, but he manages to drag it down far enough to nudge it carefully beneath the small of his back to prop his hips up. It opens him up nicely, and the angle is easier for both of them.
"Better," he decides. Good enough that he has no trouble picking up the previous thread of conversation, which he is far from finished with. "Tell me when you first thought of doing this."
As Essek grabs for a pillow, Percy feels a momentary flash of annoyance with himself for not thinking of that. The support makes an immediate difference and it feels easier to push deeper.
"Much," he agrees, and he tries to hide his amusement as Essek picks up the conversation right where they left off. Naturally, his husband no longer has urgent arousal to contend with, but Percival is intent on keeping up his end of the conversation. He eases his fingers out a little, then sinks them back in, keeping his pace slow and easy as he works Essek open.
"The night you asked for your tower." Percy keeps his eyes on his husband's face as he makes that confession. "You always look put together, but you made more effort that night. And the way you said my name when you brought it up."
He smiles at the memory as he fucks Essek gently, never pushing further than he thinks Essek can take. As badly as he wants to bury himself in this man, Percy is willing to be patient with this.
"You were so ready to argue your case. You didn't show it, you're too practiced for that, but the way you paused made me think I'd surprised you. And I liked that I could." Percival leans down to brush another kiss over Essek's warm skin, nipping lightly before he looks up again. "The way you smiled after that and the light in your eyes... it was real. You weren't humoring me or anyone else. And it was also the first time we'd really touched since we were married."
It had been the barest brush of Essek's fingers over his hand, but the memory of it lingered long after the dinner ended.
On asking, he hadn't expected the answer to have such an effect on him. But when Percival explains when and why and what he saw in him that night it strikes straight at his heart. His expression betrays a little of that, raw and open and exposed as he feels in this moment, with the gentle parting of his lips, the upward knit of his brows, and a slow blink that is almost a wince. He was surprised that night, and it had changed his perspective of his husband in a way that gave him hope. Long months have passed since then, and Percival has continued to surprise him constantly, always for the better.
Essek gazes up at him now, feeling the gentle pressure of his fingers thrusting just enough to get him used to the sensation. He knows that Percival has been hard with little touch or relief since they were kissing in the palace hallway. Yet he is still so slow and careful in this process for Essek's sake, entirely without complaint.
"That night..." he murmurs, and reaches up to lay his hand against the center of Percival's pink-flushed chest, just because he wants to touch him. He looks a little different without his glasses, but no less handsome. "It changed things for me. I did not...think of this. Not then. But I looked at you differently after that."
His fingers flex and hook so that his nails can scrape lightly against Percy's skin as he drags them down his sternum. "I like that you desired me then. That was the intent of my maneuver that evening." His tongue passes briefly over his lips, and his expression turns pensive for a moment before he decides to command, "Deeper. I can withstand a little more urgency." His lips tug up at the corners in a gentle smirk.
Percival watches the expressions play out across Essek's face, and he finds himself appreciating that he's allowed to see that at all. He knows how guarded Essek was. How guarded they both were.
His breath catches as his husband's palm presses to his chest, forcing his attention back to his own body for a moment and the near-painful arousal. Percy swallows thickly and tries to drag himself back from that, paying attention to Essek's voice. And then well-kept nails dig against him and drag down. He feels his cock throb and he has to shift his position.
"I know it was. And it isn't the way you looked that convinced me... but I appreciate the effort all the same."
The command for more sends another jolt through him. Percy pushes as deep as he can, waiting just a moment before he resumes fucking Essek like that: a bit faster, a bit harder, and it is becoming increasingly difficult to not imagine burying his cock in his husband and feeling that friction and heat in a way that will satisfy him. Steady on, de Rolo.
And, of course, Essek wants to continue the conversation. Percy meets his husband's gaze again and a faint smirk of his own appears.
"On the road here," he admits. He shifts so that he can lean over the elf more. "We'd stopped for the night. Dinner was quiet, and as you retired, you swept your cloak off before disappearing into your room and I could see the tension in your shoulders."
Percy leans down to kiss Essek's shoulder, lips parting to run his tongue over the dark skin.
"And I wanted nothing more than to offer you some relief. And distraction. And... perhaps an apology."
Essek's eyelids flutter as Percy leans over him, and he allows himself to think back to the night he references, only a few days ago. He was sore and disgruntled from traveling; extended carriage rides are very much not for him. He'd removed his cloak without thinking, bidding his husband a quick good night before disappearing into solitude. He allows himself to entertain the thought of Percival catching the door before it closes, offering to ease some of that tension.
He can't imagine a scenario in which he would not have accepted. His feelings then were as strong as they are now, or nearly so.
"An apology?"
His voice is a little tighter, and he keeps his response short by necessity as Percival's mouth traces sweetly along his shoulder. His braced hand clutches harder at Percy's chest, nails pricking with a more deliberate sting. Essek shivers, a gentle wave of sensation prickling up and down his spine. Between that and the way Percival fucks him, giving him more and faster and working him open deliberately, he can feel the distinct stirrings of arousal beginning to build again, making his breath catch and his desire to get his husband's cock inside him that much more pressing.
It had been a compromise. Percy has every intention of allowing Essek to teleport them back to Whitestone when they are ready to leave Emon. He presses closer between his husband's thighs and the sting of Essek's nails against his chest helps to keep him in the moment. And when it feels relatively easy to thrust his fingers into Essek, Percy finally pulls them free.
He braces himself over the elf and strokes the remaining oil over his cock, adding to what Essek already bestowed on him earlier. The moment he touches himself, he nearly falters. Percy doesn't dare do more than necessary. Despite that, he teases both of them a bit: his cock slides against Essek, brushing past his hole without any real guidance.
"And you?" he asks quietly. "Did you ever think about this?"
Percy grinds against his husband again and finally a quiet, strained moan escapes him. Gods, he is aching.
After the gradual process of being filled by Percy's fingers, suddenly being empty is a genuinely unpleasant feeling. But it's not to last, he thinks, as his husband crowds between his thighs and strokes oil over his cock. It's a compelling sight, and Essek finds he wants this as badly as he did before he came.
That Percival hesitates even a moment surprises him. A soft noise catches in Essek's throat; his rim has gotten so sensitive from being gently worked open, and the grind over it is maddening. His husband's cock feels burning hot pressed against him, and fuck, looks big just resting there against the curve of his ass. He's well aware that is all a matter of relative scale and perspective, but from his own--this is going to be an experience.
"Yes. Often."
He offers no elaboration of his own just yet, suitably distracted as he is. His hand trails down, just the pads of his fingers rather than his nails. Percival's chest and abs are toned, and Essek indulges himself by appreciating the musculature hands-on.
"You spent so long making me ready for you," he purrs, violet eyes flickering up to Percival's face. "Don't you want to know how perfectly you will fit inside me, k'allis?"
"Desperately," he confesses. "But I also want to savor this."
Percival shifts his position again, lowering himself more toward Essek's wandering touch. He's rather grateful that the sharpness has relented, soothed by the warmth of Essek's hand.
His forearm remains braced against the bed as the other hand reaches between them again to guide his cock. Finally, finally, he pushes in. He doesn't rush, as badly as he might want to take Essek with a single thrust. He might even be able to after all of that foreplay, but no. He meant what he said.
He sinks in slowly, luxuriating in how it feels to finally consummate this marriage. And when their bodies finally meet, he lets go of a heavy breath, edged with a soft moan. His nose bumps gently against Essek's and for a moment, Percy stays still, giving them both a few seconds to adjust. Essek is tight, but not to the point that it would worry him. His fingers stroke through his husband's pale hair as he rolls his hips, barely pulling back before he slides back in. This is everything he's wanted, better than his fevered dreams.
Essek is glad that it's slow when it finally happens. Not because there is any pain, but because he can feel it better this way, inch by gradual inch, all smooth, slicked heat. He watches, mesmerized by the ease with which his husband's cock sinks inside him. Percival took care of him, put off his own pleasure for so long to make this perfect, and now they both get to enjoy it.
At first he makes little noise himself beyond a contented hum, but appreciates Percival's quiet moan. His hands cradle Percy's face tenderly, keeping him close so that he can kiss him as slowly and thoroughly as as the way he has filled him. It's an easy, relaxed kiss, but Essek's breath hitches at the first shift inside him, a short grind that feels like a precursor to more of the same.
"That's it," he murmurs encouragingly, "this is our wedding night, Percival. Show me why I was right to marry you."
Percy is, by nature it would seem, a quiet man, even in moments of passion. But is breathing is heavy and it is so very clear that he is utterly wrapped up in what he's feeling, in the pleasure of finally being this deep inside his husband. He keeps up those small, grinding thrusts just to fully appreciate what he's been given.
He closes his eyes as they kiss and they stay that way for a few seconds more after they part. Essek's encouragement does not go unheard, however, and a smile flickers to life. Percy reaches to adjust the pillow beneath his husband's back, making sure his hips are tipped just so. Fingers stroke back through the elf's hair and Percy kisses him again as he really starts to move.
He indulges himself - them both - with languid, long strokes. He pushes himself up a bit more so that he can actually watch as his cock sinks in, caught up in the way they look together as much as he is in the perfect heat of Essek taking him. Percy's sharp gaze lifts to Essek's face as he gives a harder thrust, testing what his husband might like.
It's fascinating and erotic just to watch Percival watching them, and Essek's gaze is heavy, focused on his husband's face while his is on the very compelling picture his cock makes opening Essek up. Well oiled and well prepared, his thrusts are smooth and uninhibited, and Essek feels only a satisfying fullness without any hint of pain or discomfort.
He's caught watching when Percival's attention shifts, but Essek doesn't mind. He meets his gaze boldly, pupils blown wide and dark, with a contrast of white lashes fanning down over them when his eyes shut suddenly, brow knitting up as Percy pushes into him rougher than he has yet.
"Yes," he hisses, sharp and pleasantly surprised. "Yes, you can take me like that. You won't hurt me."
There is confidence in that statement, a certainty that Essek is backing with trust earned over months of building a brand new life together. It feels good to be connected this way, and every shift and thrust and grind inside him buzzes along his nerves, building pleasure and arousal back up. Dark, slender fingers still adorned with silver rings curl around his own length, stroking with practiced ease to encourage his cock back to stiffness.
A shivering breath of relief escapes him with that encouragement. Percy adjusts his position, moving against Essek as his knees spread, helping his balance. His hand strokes down Essek's waist and over his hip until Percival can grab his thigh, hiking it against his side just to feel him closer. With bold confidence, he picks up the pace as Essek's hand drifts between them to stroke himself. Essek's hands are beautiful as it is, but the adornment of the rings provides stark contrast against his dark skin as he strokes himself.
His hand is tight on his husband's thigh as Percy gives in to long-building desire and sharp need. He fucks the wizard, grinding against him as their bodies meet as he moves harder, a bit faster.
"Essek--" Percy breathes his husband's name like a prayer and a moan edges his voice. Pleasure coils up in him, building again sharply now that he isn't being denied. And yet it becomes clear that he is still minding himself when his hips falter. He pulls back further - not quite out - and waits a moment before he plunges back in. Percy crashes into a kiss, his urgency clear.
When they part, he tries to meet Essek's gaze again. He very deliberately slows down this time, even if it amounts to teasing himself. He needs to get this out before he loses sense completely. Percy's lips drift over Essek's ear, teeth grazing the lobe - careful of his earrings.
"Where do you want me to finish?" he asks, voice heavy and breathless when he finally manages the words. Percy knows exactly what he wants, but this--well. This is something they've never had to learn about each other.
Finally, Essek can feel his husband beginning to unwind. It isn't that Percival lacks control as he begins fucking him with a need, but that he allows himself to focus more on his own pleasure now that he's been assured of Essek's. And it's so good, receiving that desire, feeling it crackle electric from Percival to him with every full, deep thrust. He whispers yes in response to his own name, letting the sound of it on his husband's tongue fuel his swiftly climbing arousal. His breath stutters in soft gasps and words of encouragement as he strokes his cock in time with the grind of Percival's hips. Like that, it fills steadily in the circle of his fingers.
Just as his thighs close tight around Percy's waist, knees hiking up near his ribs to encourage him to push deeper, his lips part readily with a soft moan for a desperate, searing kiss. His free hand rests against the back of Percival's neck, steadying, and remains there as Percy's mouth leaves his to speak low and close.
The tip of his ear twitches gently with his proximity and the scrape of teeth earns a sharp gasp and a full-body shudder before Essek composes himself enough to respond. "Inside," he bites out, like he had never considered anything else. "I will let you fill me, husband." His hand squeezes, fingers lightly grazing the soft, close-cropped edge of Percy's hair. The slow drag of his cock inside him as they speak is almost maddening. "So let go for me," he urges. "I want to feel how you fuck when you are not hindered by self-discipline."
There's that word again - let - conveying this sense of privilege that Percy certainly feels has been granted. He closes his eyes as Essek's fingers brush against his hair, tension in his shoulders briefly fading as he is not only given permission, but encouraged. He lifts his head to kiss Essek again, short but full of desire, and then he pulls back.
It takes nothing to pick up that urgent pace that allows him to revel in the perfect friction of his husband's body. He lets go of Essek's thigh in favor of hooking that arm beneath the elf's knee, keeping it against his ribs as he buries himself in short, firm strokes. He loses himself in chasing that edge of pleasure until he hits it, and falls over it. Percy gasps sharply, voice caught in a breathless moan as he comes. He drags Essek against him like they might somehow get closer yet as he pushes deep. His hand slides along his husband's arm, finding his free hand so that he can lace their fingers together and gently pin Essek's hand in place.
His head bows, bumps against his husband's as that burst of ecstasy ebbs into something equally pleasant. Percy lets Essek's leg slide from his arm in favor of reaching between them, wrapping around the elf's hand where he strokes himself. He doesn't quite help, but neither does he hinder.
Essek doesn't regret giving his permission for his husband to take his pleasure, because while it lasts, it's incredible. Percival is a force, a man driven by need, and Essek holds the proverbial reins as the only one who can give him what he aches for, which is heady in itself. But the hard, insistent grind of his cock in shallow, greedy strokes is divine, especially as he hits an angle that makes Essek's back arch and draws a low, appreciative moan from his chest, and keeps going, a steady grind against that sweet spot that makes his vision blur at the edges and his cock drip over his palm.
It all halts quite suddenly when he comes, of course, but it's entirely worth it. The throb of his cock and the heat that comes with it as he spills his seed into him--that isn't something Essek has permitted in a very long time. But with Percival it is so viscerally satisfying, both the sensation itself and feeling as intimately as possible the way his handsome human lover experiences the height of his pleasure. There's almost a covetousness to the way he clutches him close and presses as deep inside as he possibly can, and Essek finds that very appealing.
There's a gentle shift inside him as Percival leans over him, and Essek turns his face a fraction of an inch so that their lips nearly brush. "Don't withdraw until I've come," he instructs in a breathless whisper, but nevertheless firmly enough to make the command clear. Even the presence of Percival's hand over his as he continues to stroke himself--with purpose, a tight squeeze along his smooth shaft all the way up over the wet, flushed head--ignites something hot and heavy low in his gut, winding the tension in his body even tighter.
The places they touch are points of electric sensation, and it spreads through him as Essek sinks further into it, feels himself clenching around his husband's spent cock, feels his chest rising and falling with the shortness of his breath, feels the rise of pleasure like the inexorable pull of gravity between his palms, both familiar and wonderous. His keen ears register a noise which he only momentarily recognizes as his own voice, soft but sharp, a whimper for each new, powerful pulse through his body.
He falls silent when his orgasm overtakes him, eyes closing and breath stuttering as his body tenses, tight, and he spills against his stomach with the continued rhythmic stroke of his hand, pulling each little peak from him until he's spent.
Percy grins at the sound of Essek's voice as he gives that command. His hand squeezes his husband's where it's pinned to the bed.
"I wouldn't dream of it, darling." He lowers himself, though he's careful not to block the steady movement of Essek's hand. It's thrilling to feel his lover's excitement mount, the tension that ripples through him and the way his breathing changes. Percy drinks in all of it from this intimate position. He murmurs almost delirious praise against Essek's neck and his ear, trailing kisses and gentle bites as the wizard writhes beneath him, seeking his own release.
He makes himself put more space between them when he feels Essek start to spill: he wanted to watch this, and he doesn't intend to deny himself. His own body trembles and shivers as Essek tightens around him, arches beneath him.
As they lay there, both of them trying to catch their breaths, Percy finally lowers his weight more. He's careful still, his other forearm soon braced against the bed so that he can frame his husband. His smile lingers and he leans down to kiss Essek, gentle and sweet this time, lingering as long as either of them can stand it before they need to breathe again. This is something Percy hasn't allowed himself in a long time. He's found ways to meet his needs, of course, and he has never been disappointed in that, but this--it's different. This is raw and unplanned and full of mutual longing. And this is a man he's fallen in love with.
"You are divine," he murmurs, still quietly breathless. The smile in his voice is apparent even as he brushes a kiss to Essek's brow.
He hasn't quite caught his breath before Percival kisses him again, but that doesn't stop him from returning it. Kisses like this, tender and soft, have been a rarity in Essek's life, in part because he has not often allowed them. Too close, too intimate. But Percival, it seems, holds a tether to his heart, and it winds tighter with every moment. People don't kiss this way unless they care, he thinks. And Essek aches to be cared for.
"Sacrilegious praise," he murmurs, lips curling in a satisfied smirk. "I like it."
Opening his eyes with a slow blink, he focuses on Percival above him, not able to look at his face, but content to watch how he moves. The press of lips to his brow is a sweet ache in Essek's chest. How is it possible to long for someone you are still intertwined so intimately with? His fingers press harder into the back of his husband's hand, but he doesn't push to break free of that hold yet.
This is the first nearly clear-headed moment they've had since they kissed back at the palace, and as Essek sobers, he can't help wondering about what is next. What will change? Will their marriage become a true union of souls, rather than the political alliance is has been? The idea seem almost too good to contemplate. And Essek has no idea when or how or if he should broach that subject.
What he settles for is a kiss to Percival's neck right against the point of his pulse, the beat of his heart so close to his skin and a little fond teasing. "If I must marry you again to repeat that experience, I will."
Percy smiles, feeling sated and heavy and warm. He closes his eyes as Essek's lips press against his pulse and he remembers the little thrill of pointed teeth against his throat.
"If we must do it again, I insist on an actual reception," he quips back. It occurs to him that he really should pull out to avoid collapsing on Essek entirely, even if that is a very tempting thought. He kisses Essek again, then slowly, reluctantly, he pulls out and moves to lay at his husband's side.
That allows him to focus more on the wizard's face, beautiful and--flushed? The light is dim, but he's quite certain he can see the color in Essek's face. His own mind drifts to what happens next. When they wed, Percy had resigned himself to a somewhat cold marriage. As they got to know each other better, he had hope for intelligent companionship and a partner in governance.
And now? This is something he never anticipated. Not even for a moment. Because this marriage had been arranged far outside their input, though perhaps Percy did have more say in the matter than Essek had. His thumb strokes against Essek's where they still hold hands, his grip loose now so that the other man could be free if he wants to. It feels like an unspoken tension has melted away, and Percival finds himself hoping that nothing else will rush in to feel that vacancy. And there are other things to consider: does anything change in Whitestone? Is this a one-off? Stress relief that both of them needed?
Gods, he hopes not.
But in this moment he is free to admire the soft light on Essek's skin and the well-fucked look on his face. Percy finds he's quite grateful that he's nearsighted rather than far: he would have hated to have missed this.
"I hate parties," Essek grumbles, but gladly accepts another kiss. There's only mild discomfort as he's left empty a moment later, easily put aside in favor of easing the pillow out from under him to stretch out beside Percival. He can feel his wandering gaze and takes quiet pleasure in being admired. Despite being flushed and sticky and probably disheveled, he feels radiant. Though his fingers practically itch to form the familiar somatic movements for Prestidigitation, he consciously holds off for now, choosing to live a little longer with the tangible evidence of what they'd just shared.
With a soft hum, Essek looks away from his husband's face to focus on their joined hands. It already seemed impossible that he has found peace and purpose and companionship in this arrangement, but to find love as well verges on absurd. Yet he knows what he feels, even if he is still learning how to express it. But the crux of the matter is whether that feeling is mutual, and if it is, what they will do knowing that.
Essek shifts just an inch or two closer, enough that his toes can brush Percival's ankles and he can turn his face to press his forehead against his shoulder. Not quite cuddling, but an indication that he doesn't want to detach.
"It is rare that I have the inclination to do that with anyone. Even rarer that I have the opportunity to follow that inclination," he says, musing aloud. "Rarest of all is when I wish to remain afterward."
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"Oh k'allis, see on kõik, im'e mind'e, ava mind'e lai'alt..."
Nearly every word he murmurs in his own tongue is somewhere between encouragement and pure filth. After such a long build up Essek feels his arousal spike hard and not taper off, pleasure climbing rapidly now that it is concentrated and deliberate. His cock is dripping over Percy's tongue, and tension building near the base of his spine tells him he is going to come very soon if his gorgeous husband continues to both fuck him with his fingers and suck him off. But Essek isn't worried; a second orgasm is not only feasible for him, but practically a given.
With another soft moan, Essek's hips rock up again, and he feels as though he is both going to lift into the air and melt into the bed. "I am going to spill into this lovely mouth and you are going to swallow for me," he hisses, gathering all the authority he can while he feels his self-control waning. "Aren't you, my sweet boy?"
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He lowers himself more until he can slide his arm beneath Essek's thigh, wrapping around it to hold him close as his hips start moving. His eyes flick up when he hears Common again. The praise washes over him and Percy offers a slow suck as he lifts his head. He doesn't pop off, though, doesn't offer an answer beyond the way his arm briefly tightens around Essek's thigh and a caress across his hip. He is absolutely going to swallow whatever his husband has to give.
Though his focus remains soley on Essek, Percy finds himself seeking the relief of friction. He rocks his hips against the bed beneath them, careful not to work himself up too much.
Percy takes Essek down as he pushes his fingers deep, still persistently working him open. As he draws them back, he pays attention, looking very deliberately for that spot that will encourage his orgasm. Every thrust after that is short and calculated, keeping the pressure steady. He tries to pay attention to all the warning signs: he doesn't want to choke and risk losing anything.
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The gentle stretch Essek still feels as two dexterous human fingers fuck into him is offset by the incredible wet heat of Percy's mouth sucking him so perfectly. The tension building at the base of his spine climbs higher, but all at once it ratchets tight and intense when Percy's fingers press deep and curl. It couldn't be more obvious that he's found what he's looking for when Essek's hips grind down hard against his hand and his lips part on a harsh gasp, a low whine, and then a groan as he keeps putting pressure there.
"Oh, light--"
His cock twitches against Percy's tongue, precome welling up steadily as the surplus of sensation becomes almost too much to handle for a man who hasn't been touched this way in more than three decades. He feels light-headed, focus drifting. Hazy violet eyes flutter closed, long white lashes bright against his dark his skin. It takes less than a minute for Essek's brow to knit up and his thighs go tight and begin quivering as the tension builds and builds. His release is no surprise when it comes, but it is a bone-deep relief. Essek's back arches and he clutches hard at Percival's hand as he whimpers his way through the most intense orgasm he's had in years, spilling into his mouth as promised.
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As it is, he keeps after Essek, applying skill and passion in equal measure as he's rewarded with elegant fingers gripping his hair and every gasp, whimper, and moan from the gorgeous man beneath him. Percy's arm tightens around Essek's thigh and he can't help a quiet moan of his own as his husband pushes toward him rather than squirming away.
Percival adjusts the thrust of his fingers to match the way Essek grinds against him, encouraging him as he feels the elf's thighs press against his shoulders. He rather likes feeling the quiver in his muscles as tension draws Essek's body tight. And it's all the more satisfying when it finally snaps. Percy moves his head back just enough to ensure he won't choke as his husband strains to push into him and against him. The heavier taste that coats his tongue is swallowed away before he bobs his head down again, taking Essek as deep as he dares as he shivers apart in Percy's arms. He squeezes Essek's hand, offering a tender gesture as his husband grabs at him.
He doesn't stop until he's sure that he's wrung Essek out. He releases Essek's cock and swallow again before pressing a wet kiss to dark skin. Then Percy lets himself catch his breath, head resting against Essek's stomach. His fingers are still buried, but he no longer torments with direct pressure or speed. They're barely moving at all, in fact, allowing Essek a moment of reprieve without withdrawing.
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His fingers flex and then stretch, and he drags them out of Percy's hair to cover his eyes with his forearm. The dark plum purple flush in his face has spread everywhere, and he feels hot and pleasantly heavy with that persistent tingling in his limbs. Every movement feels like it requires extra effort. But it's good. A wonderful, languid laziness, like all the tension has been fucked out of him. His toes uncurl against the bedsheets, and his thighs drift gradually further open again as he relaxes.
"Good," he breathes at last. With some effort, his arm shifts two inches higher, resting against his forehead, so Essek's eyes can blink open, looking down the length of his body at Percival. The wide, dark pupils contract against the influx of light. Low light for a human, but much brighter to a drow's sensitive eyes. "Very good. You may...continue." His lips press together hard enough for him to feel the prick of his own sharp canines against the inside of his mouth. "You will know better than I when I am ready to take you. Just be thorough. I don't care for pain."
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He makes a note that his husband doesn't care for pain. He'll be sure to avoid it.
After another few moments, Percy adjusts his position, releasing Essek's thigh so that he can push himself up without pulling his fingers free. They slide out a bit as he moves, but soon enough they sink back in.
"You are entrancing to watch," he admits, voice warm and quiet. He leans down to brush a trail of kisses over Essek's sternum. "But I think I knew you would be."
Which suggests he might have thought about this before now.
Percival seems to consider for a moment, debating how best to approach this. He absolutely does not want to hurt Essek with carelessness, and while two fingers might be sufficient... maybe it would be better to work him open just a bit more. He withdraws his fingers slowly, just to spread the oil that's on them.
"Tell me if it's too much." His gaze is intent on Essek's face as he strokes over his hole, teasing a bit before he carefully pushes three fingers back in. Percy watches for any sign of discomfort or tension, sinking in slowly to give Essek's body time to relax and adjust.
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The press of a third finger inside him is about the only thing that could distract him from that idea. It's a good thing that he'd opted to come sooner rather than later. Relaxed from his orgasm, he takes them much more easily than he would have otherwise, with more oil and a little gentle but insistent pressure. Percival is honestly very good at this. He's patient and attentive, attuned to Essek's body in a way that Essek quietly marvels at. He's never had a lover quite like this. But it's a tight fit regardless, and he takes a sharp breath as they press all the way in to the last knuckle. That's--light, that's a lot. It doesn't hurt precisely, but he does feel very full.
"It is more than I have had before, I think," he admits. "But...not bad. Just, ah, just a moment--"
Lifting his arm from his forehead, Essek reaches above him to grab the corner of one of the more solid pillows on the bed and tug it down toward him. His muscles still feel a little like pudding, but he manages to drag it down far enough to nudge it carefully beneath the small of his back to prop his hips up. It opens him up nicely, and the angle is easier for both of them.
"Better," he decides. Good enough that he has no trouble picking up the previous thread of conversation, which he is far from finished with. "Tell me when you first thought of doing this."
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"Much," he agrees, and he tries to hide his amusement as Essek picks up the conversation right where they left off. Naturally, his husband no longer has urgent arousal to contend with, but Percival is intent on keeping up his end of the conversation. He eases his fingers out a little, then sinks them back in, keeping his pace slow and easy as he works Essek open.
"The night you asked for your tower." Percy keeps his eyes on his husband's face as he makes that confession. "You always look put together, but you made more effort that night. And the way you said my name when you brought it up."
He smiles at the memory as he fucks Essek gently, never pushing further than he thinks Essek can take. As badly as he wants to bury himself in this man, Percy is willing to be patient with this.
"You were so ready to argue your case. You didn't show it, you're too practiced for that, but the way you paused made me think I'd surprised you. And I liked that I could." Percival leans down to brush another kiss over Essek's warm skin, nipping lightly before he looks up again. "The way you smiled after that and the light in your eyes... it was real. You weren't humoring me or anyone else. And it was also the first time we'd really touched since we were married."
It had been the barest brush of Essek's fingers over his hand, but the memory of it lingered long after the dinner ended.
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Essek gazes up at him now, feeling the gentle pressure of his fingers thrusting just enough to get him used to the sensation. He knows that Percival has been hard with little touch or relief since they were kissing in the palace hallway. Yet he is still so slow and careful in this process for Essek's sake, entirely without complaint.
"That night..." he murmurs, and reaches up to lay his hand against the center of Percival's pink-flushed chest, just because he wants to touch him. He looks a little different without his glasses, but no less handsome. "It changed things for me. I did not...think of this. Not then. But I looked at you differently after that."
His fingers flex and hook so that his nails can scrape lightly against Percy's skin as he drags them down his sternum. "I like that you desired me then. That was the intent of my maneuver that evening." His tongue passes briefly over his lips, and his expression turns pensive for a moment before he decides to command, "Deeper. I can withstand a little more urgency." His lips tug up at the corners in a gentle smirk.
"Tell me when you last thought of doing this."
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His breath catches as his husband's palm presses to his chest, forcing his attention back to his own body for a moment and the near-painful arousal. Percy swallows thickly and tries to drag himself back from that, paying attention to Essek's voice. And then well-kept nails dig against him and drag down. He feels his cock throb and he has to shift his position.
"I know it was. And it isn't the way you looked that convinced me... but I appreciate the effort all the same."
The command for more sends another jolt through him. Percy pushes as deep as he can, waiting just a moment before he resumes fucking Essek like that: a bit faster, a bit harder, and it is becoming increasingly difficult to not imagine burying his cock in his husband and feeling that friction and heat in a way that will satisfy him. Steady on, de Rolo.
And, of course, Essek wants to continue the conversation. Percy meets his husband's gaze again and a faint smirk of his own appears.
"On the road here," he admits. He shifts so that he can lean over the elf more. "We'd stopped for the night. Dinner was quiet, and as you retired, you swept your cloak off before disappearing into your room and I could see the tension in your shoulders."
Percy leans down to kiss Essek's shoulder, lips parting to run his tongue over the dark skin.
"And I wanted nothing more than to offer you some relief. And distraction. And... perhaps an apology."
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He can't imagine a scenario in which he would not have accepted. His feelings then were as strong as they are now, or nearly so.
"An apology?"
His voice is a little tighter, and he keeps his response short by necessity as Percival's mouth traces sweetly along his shoulder. His braced hand clutches harder at Percy's chest, nails pricking with a more deliberate sting. Essek shivers, a gentle wave of sensation prickling up and down his spine. Between that and the way Percival fucks him, giving him more and faster and working him open deliberately, he can feel the distinct stirrings of arousal beginning to build again, making his breath catch and his desire to get his husband's cock inside him that much more pressing.
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It had been a compromise. Percy has every intention of allowing Essek to teleport them back to Whitestone when they are ready to leave Emon. He presses closer between his husband's thighs and the sting of Essek's nails against his chest helps to keep him in the moment. And when it feels relatively easy to thrust his fingers into Essek, Percy finally pulls them free.
He braces himself over the elf and strokes the remaining oil over his cock, adding to what Essek already bestowed on him earlier. The moment he touches himself, he nearly falters. Percy doesn't dare do more than necessary. Despite that, he teases both of them a bit: his cock slides against Essek, brushing past his hole without any real guidance.
"And you?" he asks quietly. "Did you ever think about this?"
Percy grinds against his husband again and finally a quiet, strained moan escapes him. Gods, he is aching.
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That Percival hesitates even a moment surprises him. A soft noise catches in Essek's throat; his rim has gotten so sensitive from being gently worked open, and the grind over it is maddening. His husband's cock feels burning hot pressed against him, and fuck, looks big just resting there against the curve of his ass. He's well aware that is all a matter of relative scale and perspective, but from his own--this is going to be an experience.
"Yes. Often."
He offers no elaboration of his own just yet, suitably distracted as he is. His hand trails down, just the pads of his fingers rather than his nails. Percival's chest and abs are toned, and Essek indulges himself by appreciating the musculature hands-on.
"You spent so long making me ready for you," he purrs, violet eyes flickering up to Percival's face. "Don't you want to know how perfectly you will fit inside me, k'allis?"
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Percival shifts his position again, lowering himself more toward Essek's wandering touch. He's rather grateful that the sharpness has relented, soothed by the warmth of Essek's hand.
His forearm remains braced against the bed as the other hand reaches between them again to guide his cock. Finally, finally, he pushes in. He doesn't rush, as badly as he might want to take Essek with a single thrust. He might even be able to after all of that foreplay, but no. He meant what he said.
He sinks in slowly, luxuriating in how it feels to finally consummate this marriage. And when their bodies finally meet, he lets go of a heavy breath, edged with a soft moan. His nose bumps gently against Essek's and for a moment, Percy stays still, giving them both a few seconds to adjust. Essek is tight, but not to the point that it would worry him. His fingers stroke through his husband's pale hair as he rolls his hips, barely pulling back before he slides back in. This is everything he's wanted, better than his fevered dreams.
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At first he makes little noise himself beyond a contented hum, but appreciates Percival's quiet moan. His hands cradle Percy's face tenderly, keeping him close so that he can kiss him as slowly and thoroughly as as the way he has filled him. It's an easy, relaxed kiss, but Essek's breath hitches at the first shift inside him, a short grind that feels like a precursor to more of the same.
"That's it," he murmurs encouragingly, "this is our wedding night, Percival. Show me why I was right to marry you."
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He closes his eyes as they kiss and they stay that way for a few seconds more after they part. Essek's encouragement does not go unheard, however, and a smile flickers to life. Percy reaches to adjust the pillow beneath his husband's back, making sure his hips are tipped just so. Fingers stroke back through the elf's hair and Percy kisses him again as he really starts to move.
He indulges himself - them both - with languid, long strokes. He pushes himself up a bit more so that he can actually watch as his cock sinks in, caught up in the way they look together as much as he is in the perfect heat of Essek taking him. Percy's sharp gaze lifts to Essek's face as he gives a harder thrust, testing what his husband might like.
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He's caught watching when Percival's attention shifts, but Essek doesn't mind. He meets his gaze boldly, pupils blown wide and dark, with a contrast of white lashes fanning down over them when his eyes shut suddenly, brow knitting up as Percy pushes into him rougher than he has yet.
"Yes," he hisses, sharp and pleasantly surprised. "Yes, you can take me like that. You won't hurt me."
There is confidence in that statement, a certainty that Essek is backing with trust earned over months of building a brand new life together. It feels good to be connected this way, and every shift and thrust and grind inside him buzzes along his nerves, building pleasure and arousal back up. Dark, slender fingers still adorned with silver rings curl around his own length, stroking with practiced ease to encourage his cock back to stiffness.
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His hand is tight on his husband's thigh as Percy gives in to long-building desire and sharp need. He fucks the wizard, grinding against him as their bodies meet as he moves harder, a bit faster.
"Essek--" Percy breathes his husband's name like a prayer and a moan edges his voice. Pleasure coils up in him, building again sharply now that he isn't being denied. And yet it becomes clear that he is still minding himself when his hips falter. He pulls back further - not quite out - and waits a moment before he plunges back in. Percy crashes into a kiss, his urgency clear.
When they part, he tries to meet Essek's gaze again. He very deliberately slows down this time, even if it amounts to teasing himself. He needs to get this out before he loses sense completely. Percy's lips drift over Essek's ear, teeth grazing the lobe - careful of his earrings.
"Where do you want me to finish?" he asks, voice heavy and breathless when he finally manages the words. Percy knows exactly what he wants, but this--well. This is something they've never had to learn about each other.
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Just as his thighs close tight around Percy's waist, knees hiking up near his ribs to encourage him to push deeper, his lips part readily with a soft moan for a desperate, searing kiss. His free hand rests against the back of Percival's neck, steadying, and remains there as Percy's mouth leaves his to speak low and close.
The tip of his ear twitches gently with his proximity and the scrape of teeth earns a sharp gasp and a full-body shudder before Essek composes himself enough to respond. "Inside," he bites out, like he had never considered anything else. "I will let you fill me, husband." His hand squeezes, fingers lightly grazing the soft, close-cropped edge of Percy's hair. The slow drag of his cock inside him as they speak is almost maddening. "So let go for me," he urges. "I want to feel how you fuck when you are not hindered by self-discipline."
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It takes nothing to pick up that urgent pace that allows him to revel in the perfect friction of his husband's body. He lets go of Essek's thigh in favor of hooking that arm beneath the elf's knee, keeping it against his ribs as he buries himself in short, firm strokes. He loses himself in chasing that edge of pleasure until he hits it, and falls over it. Percy gasps sharply, voice caught in a breathless moan as he comes. He drags Essek against him like they might somehow get closer yet as he pushes deep. His hand slides along his husband's arm, finding his free hand so that he can lace their fingers together and gently pin Essek's hand in place.
His head bows, bumps against his husband's as that burst of ecstasy ebbs into something equally pleasant. Percy lets Essek's leg slide from his arm in favor of reaching between them, wrapping around the elf's hand where he strokes himself. He doesn't quite help, but neither does he hinder.
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It all halts quite suddenly when he comes, of course, but it's entirely worth it. The throb of his cock and the heat that comes with it as he spills his seed into him--that isn't something Essek has permitted in a very long time. But with Percival it is so viscerally satisfying, both the sensation itself and feeling as intimately as possible the way his handsome human lover experiences the height of his pleasure. There's almost a covetousness to the way he clutches him close and presses as deep inside as he possibly can, and Essek finds that very appealing.
There's a gentle shift inside him as Percival leans over him, and Essek turns his face a fraction of an inch so that their lips nearly brush. "Don't withdraw until I've come," he instructs in a breathless whisper, but nevertheless firmly enough to make the command clear. Even the presence of Percival's hand over his as he continues to stroke himself--with purpose, a tight squeeze along his smooth shaft all the way up over the wet, flushed head--ignites something hot and heavy low in his gut, winding the tension in his body even tighter.
The places they touch are points of electric sensation, and it spreads through him as Essek sinks further into it, feels himself clenching around his husband's spent cock, feels his chest rising and falling with the shortness of his breath, feels the rise of pleasure like the inexorable pull of gravity between his palms, both familiar and wonderous. His keen ears register a noise which he only momentarily recognizes as his own voice, soft but sharp, a whimper for each new, powerful pulse through his body.
He falls silent when his orgasm overtakes him, eyes closing and breath stuttering as his body tenses, tight, and he spills against his stomach with the continued rhythmic stroke of his hand, pulling each little peak from him until he's spent.
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"I wouldn't dream of it, darling." He lowers himself, though he's careful not to block the steady movement of Essek's hand. It's thrilling to feel his lover's excitement mount, the tension that ripples through him and the way his breathing changes. Percy drinks in all of it from this intimate position. He murmurs almost delirious praise against Essek's neck and his ear, trailing kisses and gentle bites as the wizard writhes beneath him, seeking his own release.
He makes himself put more space between them when he feels Essek start to spill: he wanted to watch this, and he doesn't intend to deny himself. His own body trembles and shivers as Essek tightens around him, arches beneath him.
As they lay there, both of them trying to catch their breaths, Percy finally lowers his weight more. He's careful still, his other forearm soon braced against the bed so that he can frame his husband. His smile lingers and he leans down to kiss Essek, gentle and sweet this time, lingering as long as either of them can stand it before they need to breathe again. This is something Percy hasn't allowed himself in a long time. He's found ways to meet his needs, of course, and he has never been disappointed in that, but this--it's different. This is raw and unplanned and full of mutual longing. And this is a man he's fallen in love with.
"You are divine," he murmurs, still quietly breathless. The smile in his voice is apparent even as he brushes a kiss to Essek's brow.
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"Sacrilegious praise," he murmurs, lips curling in a satisfied smirk. "I like it."
Opening his eyes with a slow blink, he focuses on Percival above him, not able to look at his face, but content to watch how he moves. The press of lips to his brow is a sweet ache in Essek's chest. How is it possible to long for someone you are still intertwined so intimately with? His fingers press harder into the back of his husband's hand, but he doesn't push to break free of that hold yet.
This is the first nearly clear-headed moment they've had since they kissed back at the palace, and as Essek sobers, he can't help wondering about what is next. What will change? Will their marriage become a true union of souls, rather than the political alliance is has been? The idea seem almost too good to contemplate. And Essek has no idea when or how or if he should broach that subject.
What he settles for is a kiss to Percival's neck right against the point of his pulse, the beat of his heart so close to his skin and a little fond teasing. "If I must marry you again to repeat that experience, I will."
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"If we must do it again, I insist on an actual reception," he quips back. It occurs to him that he really should pull out to avoid collapsing on Essek entirely, even if that is a very tempting thought. He kisses Essek again, then slowly, reluctantly, he pulls out and moves to lay at his husband's side.
That allows him to focus more on the wizard's face, beautiful and--flushed? The light is dim, but he's quite certain he can see the color in Essek's face. His own mind drifts to what happens next. When they wed, Percy had resigned himself to a somewhat cold marriage. As they got to know each other better, he had hope for intelligent companionship and a partner in governance.
And now? This is something he never anticipated. Not even for a moment. Because this marriage had been arranged far outside their input, though perhaps Percy did have more say in the matter than Essek had. His thumb strokes against Essek's where they still hold hands, his grip loose now so that the other man could be free if he wants to. It feels like an unspoken tension has melted away, and Percival finds himself hoping that nothing else will rush in to feel that vacancy. And there are other things to consider: does anything change in Whitestone? Is this a one-off? Stress relief that both of them needed?
Gods, he hopes not.
But in this moment he is free to admire the soft light on Essek's skin and the well-fucked look on his face. Percy finds he's quite grateful that he's nearsighted rather than far: he would have hated to have missed this.
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With a soft hum, Essek looks away from his husband's face to focus on their joined hands. It already seemed impossible that he has found peace and purpose and companionship in this arrangement, but to find love as well verges on absurd. Yet he knows what he feels, even if he is still learning how to express it. But the crux of the matter is whether that feeling is mutual, and if it is, what they will do knowing that.
Essek shifts just an inch or two closer, enough that his toes can brush Percival's ankles and he can turn his face to press his forehead against his shoulder. Not quite cuddling, but an indication that he doesn't want to detach.
"It is rare that I have the inclination to do that with anyone. Even rarer that I have the opportunity to follow that inclination," he says, musing aloud. "Rarest of all is when I wish to remain afterward."
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