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."
"Then I'm blessed thrice over," he murmurs as Essek's brow bumps against his shoulder. Percy moves slowly, finally untangling their hands so that it's easier to roll onto his side to face the other man. He rests his arm beneath his head; he wants to reach for Essek with the other, wants to pull him closer, but given that confession, he isn't sure that would be entirely welcome. Still, he shifts a bit closer and he lets his hand slide over Essek's waist and hip.
"It's been... years, I think, since I was with anyone that didn't require coin up front." He doesn't sound ashamed of that fact, only recounts it. Percy hadn't been in a place where he could let feelings factor in. He believed he had nothing to offer to anyone who might want him. And he did not dare hope that someone might want him.
His fingers drift up Essek's arm, then down again. Percy doesn't want to break this moment. He feels like he's hanging in the air, and unlike Essek, he doesn't have a spell that will keep him there.
"Not blessed," Essek corrects. "I want these things because you are an exceptional man, and you have earned my admiration."
Mistakenly, Essek had thought he was relaxed already. But Percival's touch over his hip and side and along his arm lulls him into a state of near trance, present and aware, but peaceful. Essek reaches for him too, laying a hand against his sternum and touching idly the lingering red lines his nails had left behind on his pale skin. They've faded, but not yet disappeared entirely.
"Practical," he murmurs. "My desires tend to be too specific, or perhaps I would do the same. Typically I find myself wanting a person rather than craving a particular act, and even a professional cannot assist with that." His gaze follows the trail of his fingers, down and then back up to the middle of Percy's chest. "But given access to the object of my desire...I can crave quite a lot."
Percy is only made aware of the lingering welts when Essek touches them. And as Essek relaxes beneath his touch, he feels bold enough to close some of the scant distance between them. It would be up to Essek to tuck close, but Percy hopes the invitation is clear.
Between Essek saying that he has earned his admiration and confessing that his desires are quite specific, Percival finds himself quite flattered. It feels--like an unexpected privilege, given the realities of their situation. He drapes his arm over Essek so he can trace the line of his husband's back, touch still just a light caress. His lips part to speak, and then--
I can crave it quite a lot.
Percival's breath catches quietly and a sly smile blossoms across his face.
"Is that so?" he murmurs, voice low and warm. "I doubt I could find it within myself to deny you."
Especially after that showing. Beyond that, the thought that Essek might want more is thrilling in a different way. This isn't just a one-off. And, entirely unbidden, Percy thinks of the fun there is to be had in Whitestone.
Perhaps he had been too shy to ask, or worried that he would dislike it after all, but as Percy drapes an arm over him and inches closer, Essek acknowledges something: in this moment, he wants to be held. He wants to feel Percival's arms around him and and he wants to press close to his warm, pale skin, and he wants to stay there.
He's glad he hasn't yet, because he's able to catch the fetching quirk of his husband's lips, but now that the possibility exists, it feels magnetic.
"I hoped that would be your response," he drawls, and resolutely tucks himself against Percival's body. "I would feel very foolish indeed harboring such a strong attraction if you only wished to do this once."
Percy hadn't realized there had been one last bit of uncertainty in him, but he feels it fade as Essek nestles close against him. He tips his head down to kiss his husband's hair, lingering there for a moment as Essek gets comfortable. His arm tightens, offering more support.
"Oh, I'm rather afraid you might have opened the floodgates, my dear." He slides his hand to tip Essek's head up for a kiss. His thumb strokes along his lover's jaw. When they part again, his smile returns.
"If I have my way, the castle will think we're having a delayed honeymoon."
He cannot imagine saying no to Essek now, not in this matter. He's been attracted to this man since they met, though it had been purely aesthetic. As he got to know Essek better, it grew, deepened into real desire and attraction. And now? Percy fears he might be wrapped around the wizard's elegant fingers.
There are worse tethers.
"I think--I hope this isn't premature, but. You are welcome to join me in my room whenever you like." And if Essek prefers to maintain his own suite for the sake of space or privacy, Percival is hardly going to insist that they merge living spaces. But he wants his husband to know his door is truly open, should Essek wish to come through.
Essek stifles his smile against Percy's shoulder, quietly delighted by his enthusiasm. The concept of a honeymoon is foreign to him, not because citizens of the Dynasty don't ever take time for themselves after being married, but because Essek always expected that he would be performing social and political duties to his Den and the court in the period of time directly following his wedding. And he was correct. As silly is Percival is being, it's amusing to think they might make up for not having one in this way, at least.
So much has changed over the course of a few hours. Essek has only recently learned just how possible it is for a relatively short period of time to permanently alter the trajectory of a life lasting centuries. It has become impossible after that, and after fearing that his time remaining in this world might actually be very short, to take any amount of time for granted.
Musing about this, Percival's I hope this isn't premature verges on ironic. Essek is shocked nonetheless. He simply hadn't expected to be offered such an opportunity so quickly, or at all. His fingers curl between them against Percival's chest, and slowly he leans back far enough to look up at him, wide-eyed.
"You want me to...?"
The possibility his husband is extending to him is not merely sex, but a true integration of their lives; shared living quarters, as a couple who married for love might have. Essek, who has never permanently shared a room in his life, let alone a bed, finds the idea both daunting and deeply romantic. Percival wants him enough to open up his private space to him. For someone who has intentionally lived alone for so long, it's a meaningful gesture.
"I--I imagine I will accept that offer when we return," Essek says, grasping at this possibility with both hands, because accepting love when offered is what has saved him from himself. Because he can't imagine throwing something that must have taken such courage to put forth back in his husband's face. "Perhaps not...always," he allows, accounting for his uncertainty about how unsuited he may be for cohabitation. He can't imagine not at least keeping his own quarters. "But I will certainly join you as often as it suits us both."
Even if Essek tries to hide it, Percival is pretty sure he can feel his husband smiling against his shoulder, and that feels like a little victory. Essek's smiles had been precious before, but there is a different weight now. He hadn't expected that sex would change anything, but it had. No, he thinks, it isn't the sex. It's something else. Something even more vulnerable than that.
Percy strokes his fingers along the back of Essek's neck as the wizard looks up at him. He knows how it feels to have a life changed for better or worse in just a few heartbeats, and after denying himself so much for so long, he doesn't want to let this slip through his fingers.
"Yes," he answers to the half-spoken question. Maybe it is bold or too soon, but it's an invitation, not a demand. Essek is welcome to take it or leave it as he chooses, and Percival will adapt either way. He hasn't shared space quite like that either, but he finds that he wants to. Even if Essek doesn't sleep, Percy wouldn't mind if his husband was the last thing he saw before drifting off.
His smile softens at the acceptance and his hand moves to tip Essek's chin up--but he pauses before leaning in fully for a kiss.
"I'm hardly going to insist that you give up your space," he assures. "I think my parents always had their own suites."
Frederick and Johanna had shared a bedroom far more often than they didn't, in Percy's memory, but they still had their own spaces. He gives Essek a kiss then, gentle and warm.
What a relief it is to be understood. He returns Percival's kiss gratefully, and even after remains close. His husband. Who he loves, and who it seems may love him too. How does he begin to reconcile this with how he thought he would be spending his life?
First of all, he extracts a hand to trace a familiar, lazy pattern in the air as he casts Prestidigitation to finally clean them both up. That's a good start.
"I presume then that you have no issue with me taking my rest beside you tonight?"
Percy smiles when he realizes Essek is casting a spell, and he can vaguely feel the change it brings. Once Essek is finished, Percy catches his husband's hand so that he can kiss his fingertips.
"No, you'll find no objection on my end." He shifts, lazily wrapping around Essek. "And if you want to get free... well. Do what you must."
There's a smile in his voice as he says it, almost lost against Essek's pale hair. He won't be offended if his husband feels the need to untangle himself for the sake of personal space or anything else. He will take what Essek is willing to give.
And, for the first time since they left Whitestone, Percy sleeps soundly.
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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.
no subject
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."
no subject
"It's been... years, I think, since I was with anyone that didn't require coin up front." He doesn't sound ashamed of that fact, only recounts it. Percy hadn't been in a place where he could let feelings factor in. He believed he had nothing to offer to anyone who might want him. And he did not dare hope that someone might want him.
His fingers drift up Essek's arm, then down again. Percy doesn't want to break this moment. He feels like he's hanging in the air, and unlike Essek, he doesn't have a spell that will keep him there.
no subject
Mistakenly, Essek had thought he was relaxed already. But Percival's touch over his hip and side and along his arm lulls him into a state of near trance, present and aware, but peaceful. Essek reaches for him too, laying a hand against his sternum and touching idly the lingering red lines his nails had left behind on his pale skin. They've faded, but not yet disappeared entirely.
"Practical," he murmurs. "My desires tend to be too specific, or perhaps I would do the same. Typically I find myself wanting a person rather than craving a particular act, and even a professional cannot assist with that." His gaze follows the trail of his fingers, down and then back up to the middle of Percy's chest. "But given access to the object of my desire...I can crave quite a lot."
no subject
Between Essek saying that he has earned his admiration and confessing that his desires are quite specific, Percival finds himself quite flattered. It feels--like an unexpected privilege, given the realities of their situation. He drapes his arm over Essek so he can trace the line of his husband's back, touch still just a light caress. His lips part to speak, and then--
I can crave it quite a lot.
Percival's breath catches quietly and a sly smile blossoms across his face.
"Is that so?" he murmurs, voice low and warm. "I doubt I could find it within myself to deny you."
Especially after that showing. Beyond that, the thought that Essek might want more is thrilling in a different way. This isn't just a one-off. And, entirely unbidden, Percy thinks of the fun there is to be had in Whitestone.
no subject
He's glad he hasn't yet, because he's able to catch the fetching quirk of his husband's lips, but now that the possibility exists, it feels magnetic.
"I hoped that would be your response," he drawls, and resolutely tucks himself against Percival's body. "I would feel very foolish indeed harboring such a strong attraction if you only wished to do this once."
no subject
"Oh, I'm rather afraid you might have opened the floodgates, my dear." He slides his hand to tip Essek's head up for a kiss. His thumb strokes along his lover's jaw. When they part again, his smile returns.
"If I have my way, the castle will think we're having a delayed honeymoon."
He cannot imagine saying no to Essek now, not in this matter. He's been attracted to this man since they met, though it had been purely aesthetic. As he got to know Essek better, it grew, deepened into real desire and attraction. And now? Percy fears he might be wrapped around the wizard's elegant fingers.
There are worse tethers.
"I think--I hope this isn't premature, but. You are welcome to join me in my room whenever you like." And if Essek prefers to maintain his own suite for the sake of space or privacy, Percival is hardly going to insist that they merge living spaces. But he wants his husband to know his door is truly open, should Essek wish to come through.
no subject
So much has changed over the course of a few hours. Essek has only recently learned just how possible it is for a relatively short period of time to permanently alter the trajectory of a life lasting centuries. It has become impossible after that, and after fearing that his time remaining in this world might actually be very short, to take any amount of time for granted.
Musing about this, Percival's I hope this isn't premature verges on ironic. Essek is shocked nonetheless. He simply hadn't expected to be offered such an opportunity so quickly, or at all. His fingers curl between them against Percival's chest, and slowly he leans back far enough to look up at him, wide-eyed.
"You want me to...?"
The possibility his husband is extending to him is not merely sex, but a true integration of their lives; shared living quarters, as a couple who married for love might have. Essek, who has never permanently shared a room in his life, let alone a bed, finds the idea both daunting and deeply romantic. Percival wants him enough to open up his private space to him. For someone who has intentionally lived alone for so long, it's a meaningful gesture.
"I--I imagine I will accept that offer when we return," Essek says, grasping at this possibility with both hands, because accepting love when offered is what has saved him from himself. Because he can't imagine throwing something that must have taken such courage to put forth back in his husband's face. "Perhaps not...always," he allows, accounting for his uncertainty about how unsuited he may be for cohabitation. He can't imagine not at least keeping his own quarters. "But I will certainly join you as often as it suits us both."
no subject
Percy strokes his fingers along the back of Essek's neck as the wizard looks up at him. He knows how it feels to have a life changed for better or worse in just a few heartbeats, and after denying himself so much for so long, he doesn't want to let this slip through his fingers.
"Yes," he answers to the half-spoken question. Maybe it is bold or too soon, but it's an invitation, not a demand. Essek is welcome to take it or leave it as he chooses, and Percival will adapt either way. He hasn't shared space quite like that either, but he finds that he wants to. Even if Essek doesn't sleep, Percy wouldn't mind if his husband was the last thing he saw before drifting off.
His smile softens at the acceptance and his hand moves to tip Essek's chin up--but he pauses before leaning in fully for a kiss.
"I'm hardly going to insist that you give up your space," he assures. "I think my parents always had their own suites."
Frederick and Johanna had shared a bedroom far more often than they didn't, in Percy's memory, but they still had their own spaces. He gives Essek a kiss then, gentle and warm.
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First of all, he extracts a hand to trace a familiar, lazy pattern in the air as he casts Prestidigitation to finally clean them both up. That's a good start.
"I presume then that you have no issue with me taking my rest beside you tonight?"
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"No, you'll find no objection on my end." He shifts, lazily wrapping around Essek. "And if you want to get free... well. Do what you must."
There's a smile in his voice as he says it, almost lost against Essek's pale hair. He won't be offended if his husband feels the need to untangle himself for the sake of personal space or anything else. He will take what Essek is willing to give.
And, for the first time since they left Whitestone, Percy sleeps soundly.