au of an au - for graviturgy

[alignmyheart]

[art by aliensfirst.]

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full moon heat

[alignmyheart]

It isn't a secret. Essek Thelyss has been informed that his husband involuntarily turns into a wolf every month. But it's one thing to be informed, and another to experience. Despite trusting his husband with this information, Percy still disappears every full moon, usually during the day. For at least three days, the lord of Whitestone is unavailable, and only the Master of the Grey Hunt knows that a massive white wolf stalks the Parchwood Timberlands.

This month, he feels a bit strange in the days leading up to the full moon in a way that's... different. Percy finds himself lingering outside Essek's tower door or bedroom, and he realizes he can smell his husband going into heat. Poor timing, but perhaps inevitable.

The day of the first night of the full moon, Percy leaves. He tries to ensure that he does so while Essek is trancing. It's better that way, isn't it? Percival isn't entirely sure what might happen if he risks staying any longer. He rides out, unfollowed and unaccompanied. The horse is left with a small stable just inside the city walls and Percy continues the rest of the way on foot. It gives him plenty of time to think. He tries to clear his head with every mile he puts between himself and the castle, the city. He tries to ignore the instinct to turn back, to make sure that Essek is all right.

It's late in the day when he arrives at the old hunting cabin he's managed to shore up and refurbish. He doubts he'll spend much time here, not when he has other places to sleep, but it's a good place to recover when he finally changes back. He sits on the edge of the bed for a little while, absently fidgeting with the Whisper earring he brought with him. He always does, even if he's never used it. Inevitably he has to leave it here with the rest of his things anyway.

As the moon rises, the ache starts in his bones. Percival methodically checks the cabin to make sure there is food and water enough for him here when he gets back, as well as firewood for the woodstove. Satisfied that his recovery place is in good order, he undresses and leaves his clothes folded on the bed. As he steps outside, the feel of the leaves and dirt beneath his bare feet is welcome. The change is, thankfully, relatively quick. When it is over, the great white wolf shakes out his coat and stretches, settling into his body. He lifts his nose to the wind and sets off to hunt.

[graviturgy]

For several days, Essek manages to occupy himself with his work to combat the restlessness that comes along with an encroaching heat. He's in his tower almost constantly except when he breaks to trance, distracting his mind while his body goes through the process of preparation for the period of simultaneously heightened libido and fertility to come.

Naturally, now that that he has the option, he expects to spend this time with his husband. Against all odds Essek has been lucky in love, married to an alpha he's come to care for and trust enough to truly think of as his. He's noticed Percival's recent attentive loitering, and suspects he's anticipating this also. For the first time, Essek sees this as something more than an inconvenience. They've had plenty of sex, but never while he was in heat. This time, there is a purpose. Bonding, growing closer, sharing pleasure, really legitimizing their relationship, perhaps even starting a family--there is much to consider.

The fact that his husband regularly turns into a wolf, as Essek has been aware for some time, doesn't enter these considerations at all until he looks at his personal calendar. He marks the phases of the moon there both for arcane purposes and to track the days on which Percival is most likely to disappear. On the day he expects his heat to begin in earnest, he trances in the late afternoon in anticipation of going to his husband's room that night and remaining there for the next several days at least. When he wakes, he knows his own timing was correct, and checks his calendar to make sure there aren't plans he needs to rearrange. It's then he realizes that Percival has plans for the next several days. Ones he can't easily alter.

Essek has known about the reality of Percival's condition for much longer than he's let on. Even if he could not put it together through observation and pattern recognition--which he would have eventually--Essek knows how to Scry. He had made frequent use of it in the early months of his marriage, when he didn't know Percival so well and couldn't help being deeply suspicious of his periodical disappearances, despite the excuses he was given. Learning the truth had actually been an incredible relief. Here was a secret kept, understandably, out of fear of rejection or being misunderstood rather than out of malicious intent. He finally started to relax around Percival after that, feeling that he understood him better. Months later, when he finally prompted him to tell him the truth, implying that he already knew anyway, it only brought them closer.

Essek goes to his husband's room that night anyway, even knowing it will be empty. He spends several hours there laying in his bed feeling morose and lonely and missing him an embarrassing amount, and when his heat takes him in full Percival's scent all around him both drives and quells his need. It would be a miserable experience, but he could pass his heat here by himself. He's already informed servants of a meal schedule, and he's gotten himself through his own heats before, always. But halfway through the night, trying to concentrate on reading--on anything, really--he realizes that he'd underestimated the difference between a heat before having an alpha and one after. He's never experienced desires so intense or focused. Nothing and no one but his husband will do. He needs him in a way he's never needed anyone. It's driving him wild. It makes him reckless.

The moon is high in the sky when Essek drags himself from the lord of Whitestone's bed and hurriedly ties a velvet and silk house robe--one of Percival's, a deep blue--over his bare body, prickled with sweat and flushed with arousal. He puts on his boots, and then one of his heavy winter cloaks, obscuring himself. His focus and components and a key magical item or two are bundled into his wristpocket. Without another moment's deliberation, he casts Teleport.

The likelihood of error when teleporting to a location viewed only through scrying is high. Essek knows of the hunting cabin in the timberlands, and it is a more distinct spot than the wilderness itself, so he aims there.

He's off, and the trip is a rough one. He arrives slightly battered, wincing at new bruises and wiping a trickle of blood from his nose. The nighttime forest around him looks like the general area he was aiming for, at least. He recognizes the position of the stars above the treetops, and the climate and foliage are the same. Essek isn't worried about getting lost. He can see perfectly in the darkness, and if worse comes to worst and he can't find Percival, he has more than enough strength left in him to teleport back home safely. Something about the fresh air and his purpose in seeking out his mate makes him feel far less helpless and vulnerable than he had laying in Percival's bed, and there is some relief to be found in that.

With Locate Creature cast to alert him when and if his quarry is nearby, Essek next enhances his ability to perceive his surroundings and pick up on signs of nearby paths or regularly used tracks in the hopes of finding the cabin, a location he can be sure Percival will visit eventually. Finally, he raises both hands in front of his mouth as he walks, draws his fingers apart, and casts Sending.

"Percival, please return to the cabin as soon as possible. I am making my way there now. I need you."

He is confident his words will reach him, even if he cannot respond currently. In truth though, Essek is improvising at best. This was impulsive, rash, a decision made by a mind preoccupied by one thing: being with his alpha, the only person who can bring him relief and fulfillment. Though Essek understands that Percival must have transformed already, even that doesn't deter him from seeking his company. Because Percival had explained that his mind is more or less his own even while he takes the wolf's form, he isn't worried about being harmed. No matter his appearance, this is his husband. If he could not accept him this way, can he truly say he loves him completely?

[alignmyheart]

The shift in the wind brings unexpected scents. At first, Percival is vaguely concerned that he has lost his mind. Head tipped up and eyes nearly closed, he can smell Essek. Not just the familiar scent of his cologne and his soap, but something far more personal. And there is an immediate, gut-deep reaction when he is reminded that his husband - mate? - is in heat.

Percy growls in frustration and resists the almost petulant urge to shove his nose into the detritus beneath his feet, as if that might block out the smell that is pulling at every instinct he has. Essek shouldn't be here. He should be in the castle, safe. But he isn't. He's come here, and soon enough Percy hears his husband's voice in his head, calling him to the cabin. There's a response that Essek might get, even if there are no words. A huffed breath and a sound that is almost a whine. Nothing else.

His ears flick and he snorts a frustrated breath. He should not go.

But he does.

Before he's had time to think it through, Percy is moving through the dark and familiar woods. Most other predators clear out of his territory when he reappears, but that is not a given. Essek is capable, but he is also in heat and likely somewhat distracted. There is no other course but to find him. The great wolf begins to move in the direction of the cabin then... stops. Essek isn't that way. He lifts his head for another careful breath, filtering through the information brought to him. He turns and moves with more urgency. Percival doesn't break into a full run: in some places the trees are tight or the terrain is dangerous, and he does not intend to break a leg because he is in a hurry.

It doesn't take him long to realize his husband isn't nearly as close to the cabin as he'd anticipated, too far northwest. Essek may not be hindered by dark, but there are plenty of other things her that might give even a wizard trouble. Ambush predators are not unknown here.

It takes him the better part of an hour to find Essek, and by the time he does, the great wolf is aware that he is not the first creature to do so. He approaches the open section of wood carefully, not stalking, but also not crashing through the undergrowth. When he catches the scent of a large cat, he throws his head back to voice a bone-chilling howl. It's enough to startle the large feline that has been stalking the drow wizard. If one looks, it's possible to catch sight of the pale-coated panther as it leaves its hiding place to slip deeper into the woods. It had been roughly sixty feet in front of Essek. Any closer, and it might have been able to pounce without giving itself away.

Percy lingers behind the tree line, torn between immediately approaching his husband and staying back.

[graviturgy]

Clearly he is further away than he thought. Essek had not expected to walk for an hour, and his initial relief at being out of his hopeless situation in the castle has tapered off as his heat has only intensified, with no sign of Percival or the cabin. While the arousal, even persistent as it is, can be ignored for now with enough strong-willed focus, the ache that comes with needing his partner and refusing himself even the most basic sexual fulfillment is different, and becomes more apparent the longer he is alone. It will become genuinely painful if he puts it off much longer. It is also distracting.

This is likely why he doesn't notice that his Locate Creature spell has faded with time--or that he is being followed, his steps on the frost-coated ground tracked by a creature with even lighter feet.

The single howl that rises out of the cold air stops him short with a spike of fear and adrenaline. It's so close by, how could he not have noticed? He scans the darkness for signs of the creature responsible, and sees instead a streak of white ahead of him, distinctly catlike, scamper away in another direction. That wasn't the beast responsible for that noise, but frightened by it.

Essek turns around, determining he'd heard the call from behind him. He advances cautiously, retracing his steps, a spell readied. Black lightning crackles in his right hand, the energy volatile and powerful. It takes effort not to release it. But that was a wolf's howl, just one, lonely and powerful, and something about it hooks into his gut in a way that calls to him. It had saved him from the animal he hadn't even realized was getting close enough to pounce. He has to be careful, so careful out here on his own, but could this be the wolf he's been looking for?

With his exceptional darkvision, he's able to identify a huge white shape beyond the trees, though not particular features. His heart is pounding. He's never seen his husband in his wolf shape, not properly--only glimpses, flashes of white fur and blue eyes as he scryed.

"Percival?" he calls out finally. After several seconds of still silence, the wood winter-quiet, his voice seems too loud even though he'd tried to pitch it lower so as not to attract more attention. "If that is you, I must know. I do not wish to harm you accidentally." He swallows hard. "Please, ah...bark twice and then come out of there?" If this creature can't follow his instructions, he can assume it isn't one intelligent enough to understand him, and therefore not his husband. "I will not be afraid once I know it is you. I have come all this way to find you."

[alignmyheart]

Essek's scent is overwhelming, even at this distance. It floods Percy's senses until he can taste him. He is also very aware of the prickle of arcane energy in the air and tension winds through him. He's quite aware of that Essek is capable of if he is threatened. His ears flick forward at the sound of his husband's voice.

The first thing Essek hears is a soft whine, almost identical to the vocalization he heard in response to his Sending. Then there are two brief yips, higher sounds than one might expect from a creature of his size, but meant to be less intimidating. He waits a moment longer, giving Essek time to let go of any spell he might have been holding. Then he steels himself and moves from tree cover into the more open clearing. The moonlight through the trees dapples brightly on his white coat.

The wolf that appears is quite large, nearly six feet at the shoulder. Despite this, he is clearly making some effort to seem smaller: not a typical alpha behavior, but gaining his husband's trust, his mate's, is far more important right now. Even like this, Percy would never hurt him. Rather than slinking all the way to Essek, however, he gets about halfway there and lays down. He doesn't expose his belly, but this is about as small as he can get without curling up. His ears are pricked forward now, alert, and there is a small, hopeful wag of his tail that makes the leaves under him rustle. Then he lays his head down between his paws.

He can't stop taking deep breaths, bringing Essek's scent to him with every one. He has always been drawn to the wizard's scent, but like this... there is so much more nuance. And there is also there overwhelming urge to push his face between his mate's thighs to taste him, knowing that he is ready and receptive. That will have to wait. He will not frighten Essek if he can help it.

[graviturgy]

Relief floods him, a warmth to counter the chill of fear, when he hears a whine he recognizes and then the two consecutive yips as requested. With a deep breath, he concentrates on letting the spell in his hand fade without releasing it. His fingers still tingle a little even after the gathered energy dissipates.

The creature that emerges is both what he expected and entirely novel. "Light, it is you," he murmurs, wide-eyed with delight and no small amount of awe as he watches the great white wolf approach carefully, massive despite his attempt to make himself smaller with diminutive body language. That he lays down a fair distance away is a good indication that he wants Essek to choose how close he'll get in his own time. If he needed one more confirmation that this is indeed his husband, that would do it.

Essek doesn't hesitate a moment longer. Though he doesn't run, he walks forward with determination in his step. It's just as he said. Now that he knows this is Percival, he isn't afraid at all, but fascinated, and unspeakably glad to have been found. Despite his heavy cloak, he certainly hadn't dressed for an extended time outside beneath it, and his thighs are sticky with how wet he is. The white wolf's thick fur looks soft and warm, an observation he quickly confirms as he kneels beside him and reaches to bury his hands in it, and then his face in the ruff of his neck, the way he would tuck his face between neck and shoulder when embracing a human Percival.

Inhaling deeply, Essek is shocked by his immediate recognition of the scent. Though the body is different, this is Percival without a doubt. His unique scent has hardly changed at all, and it's enough to make him shudder as a potent shock of need courses through him, more powerful and demanding than anything he's experienced yet. The pathetic-sounding moan he can't help is muffled in his husband's fur.

"Thank you for finding me," he whispers, making an effort to get a better hold on himself, though every breath is now accompanied by the smell of Percival, who he just couldn't go without, who he had to have so badly he'd wander the forest alone at night in the throes of heat looking for him. "My teleport must have been further than I thought. I am not familiar enough with this area."

[alignmyheart]

As soon as Essek presses against him, Percival lifts his head and turns it toward the drow, pressing against him as he would if he were a man. He breathes deep and he can feel his pulse quicken when he realizes just how far-gone Essek is. If his scent didn't make it clear, the moan that he can feel as much as hear would. He can also smell blood and realizes that Essek is injured somehow.

There's a soft voice in Essek's mind - Percival's.

Safe.

The word is accompanied by faint feelings: Percy's concern and his relief in finding his husband in one piece. The wolf moves, shifting so that he can bodily curl around Essek, surrounding him with thick fur. He isn't wearing enough for this weather. Perhaps for a short sojourn in a garden or courtyard, but not wandering out here. For a few minutes he stays just like that, absorbed in the unexpected comfort of Essek's presence. They can't stay out here, though. Even if Percival can keep his husband warm through the night, they are vulnerable.

He wants to tell Essek how stupid this was, and how brave, and how--arousing. That will likely have to wait until after the moon if he wants to articulate it all with nuance. He can feel the heat of desire pooling low in his belly, but that will absolutely need to wait.

Percy nuzzles close, then huffs a heavy breath.

Cabin?

As he asks, he slowly gets up, careful not to knock Essek over as he does. If that is where Essek intended to go in the first place, that is where Percival will take him. If nothing else, it will ensure that if his husband ever decides to try this again, he'll have a clear idea of where the hell he's going.

[graviturgy]

Oh, that--Essek remembers the charm Percival had mentioned only when he hears his voice, or rather an impression of it in his mind, the same as receiving a sending or message spell, but just a single word and a more nuanced emotion accompanying it. Perhaps more like a very limited telepathy, then. He can do better than that. Still, hearing that voice at all is deeply reassuring, especially as the wolf's big, warm body curls around him protectively to reinforce it.

"I know," he murmurs gratefully, letting his chilled body be warmed as he presses close against his husband's side for the most simultaneously relaxing and stimulating few minutes he's experienced tonight. And when Percival nuzzles him, he presses a kiss to the side of his long snout in return. The shorter fur there feels like velvet against his lips.

He pushes himself back to his feet when Percival does, bracing himself against his shoulder. "Yes, we should go to the cabin. I assume you left your things there, wedding ring included? I mean to use it to cast Telepathy so that you can speak more freely with me." His brow furrows. "Though it would be nice to warm up there, I would guess that it is not a place you can stay comfortably while in this shape? I intend to remain with you, of course, so I will need to gather supplies."

Now that he is standing and looking more squarely at the wolf that is his husband, he's better able to take in the details--how his shape is not only big, but sleek and powerful, all that beautiful winter white, the unique shape of his front paws, wide and tipped with sharp claws, but articulated in the way a typical wolf's could not be, and the bright, attentive focus in his eyes, so familiar it makes him smile.

"You are magnificent, aren't you?" he murmurs, half to himself, as he reaches up to stroke the fur along the side of his powerful jaw.

[alignmyheart]

Listening to Essek speak his plans out loud, his intent to stay with him no matter what, makes something else warm inside him. He closes his eyes and leans his head into Essek's touch, careful not to push him off balance. Percival has worried so long about being a monster, that it is unexpectedly touching to hear his husband call him magnificent.

He doesn't try to respond, knowing how limited he is. It would take far too long. Instead, he steers them in another direction and stays close by Essek's side for the walk to the cabin. He takes them by a deer path, easier to walk with only a few obstacles to navigate. The cabin is dark when they arrive, but that isn't a hindrance for either of them. It becomes evident that the wolf would have trouble getting inside and would likely take up most of the space once there, so Percival waits outside while Essek gathers whatever he needs or want.

Inside, the clothes Percy arrived in are folded on the bed. His ring and the Whisper earring sit on top of the pile. Nearby is a bag: more clothes, a few extra blankets. On the floor is another with hardy food to last a few days, mostly bread and preserved meat, but also cheese and some fresh fruit. It's chilly enough that Percy really hadn't worried about anything going bad. And if Essek doesn't want to carry everything, he has a perfectly willing pack animal waiting for him.

When the wizard reappears and makes clear his intention in casting Telepathy, Percy simply responds with: Neck. If Essek feels through his ruff, he'll find a thin chain there holding the charm on. It's Dwarven-make, relatively delicate-looking but clearly strong enough to withstand whatever a wolf would put it through.

An inconvenient rut

[alignmyheart]

A few months after the end of Essek's heat, they have confirmation that he is not pregnant. They'd both suspected it, but it was no less disappointing. If nothing else, it made clear for both of them that they really want this. So they'll keep trying.

In late spring they find themselves at a gathering in Westrun. Nobility and merchants from Tal'Dorei and Wildemount are mingling at some grand affair and Percival cannot think of any reason why Whitestone should not be represented. Besides, he wants Essek to see more of the continent than Emon and Whitestone.

As they get ready, Percy picks out Essek's jewelry for the night. He lingers behind his husband, admiring his sleek silhouette and finding himself pleased that Essek has decided to go relatively unadorned. He doesn't need it: he's stunning just as he is. The silver and gold of his wedding band, pearl earrings, and silver filigree decorating the elegant tips of his ears. Percy puts the earrings in and trails kisses down his lover's neck. Essek smells amazing. He always does, but tonight... Percy is driven to distraction just standing near him. It takes iron will to avoid trying to get his hands beneath Essek's dress. He'll make it through the night and have his husband either in the comfort of their guest quarters here or back in Whitestone if they want their own bed.

The gala is pleasant. There are plenty of familiar faces - including Allura Vysoren and Vex'ahlia Vessar - in attendance. Percival manages to be his charming self relatively early in the evening, but as the event draws on, he finds himself--utterly distracted. Irritable. And before he says something he'll regret to a person who probably doesn't deserve it, he slips away to get a drink or... something. Still, a glass of champagne does nothing to help how warm he feels or how tetchy he feels.

[graviturgy]

While it had been a disappointment initially to learn that his first shared heat did not in fact yield the result he'd been striving for, Essek has come to see it as a boon. He and his husband shared the feeling, which has only strengthened his resolve. If they are still set on it months later, then this must be the right path. In the months between his last heat and his next, they've had more time to discuss and prepare, and Essek has only become more charmed by the idea, despite the extensive research he's been doing. He's determined to be pregnant before the end of the year, which seems attainable, with two heats in that time, if he keeps to a regular schedule. Though with Percival's influence, who knows, really? He's never been bonded to an alpha before, and sometimes it seems like his body is trying to make up for the previous century of self-denial, and nothing is predictable any longer.

Perhaps he should have considered that this might apply to Percival as well.

Essek had been pleased to receive his amorous attention while they dressed--a prelude to what might occur later while they undress, he hopes. The first part of the gala had been fine, as far as parties go; the two of them look good together, and Essek is always pleased by the attention they garner in that respect. He's always been a little fueled by the envy of others, and in present company, he doesn't feel bad about it in the least. The familiar faces make things more bearable as well; he's always liked Allura, and he's grown to like Vex'ahlia more than he ever expected to, given his own envy issues.

But as the evening goes on, his husband becomes restless. Perhaps it is only obvious to those who know him well, but his conversation becomes shorter and sharper, and while he is never outright rude, he is unusually brusque. He has his hand on Essek constantly, seemingly unwilling to be further than an arm's length apart--until he departs himself, that is. Essek watches with mild concern from across the lavishly decorated space as he drinks half a flute of champagne at once. The ruddy flush in his pale face is not from drink; they've barely had any tonight.

Excusing himself politely from his current conversation, he weaves his own path through Westrun's elite invitees, hovering far enough from the floor to avoid having his dress or his feet tred on. This side of the room is not so crowded, but he still keeps his back to the rest of the room when he arrives at Percival's side, raising a cool hand to his face and pressing the back of his fingers to his cheek, feeling the warmth he already knew he would find.

"Are you feeling unwell, my love?" he asks quietly, concern delicately creasing his brow.

[alignmyheart]

Something in him settles and sharpens at the same time as Essek approaches him and Percy almost can't help the way he turns his head into his husband's touch as cool fingers press to overheated skin.

"No," he murmurs automatically. Then he sighs and says, "Yes."

He is feeling unwell and strange and overwhelmed by the crowd and the sound and everything that he can't quite tune out the way he normally might. Rather than a din he hears details and he finds himself wondering if this is what it would be like as a wolf in a setting like this, but he isn't--the moon is still days away, it can't be that coming on. He'd ache differently, too.

Now that Essek is close to him all of Percival's senses narrow to him. The scent of his cologne and his soap, the sound of his voice, the feel of his presence. Percival wants to take him away from this, wants Essek to himself. Unthinking, he slides an arm around Essek's waist to pull him closer.

[graviturgy]

Though Essek lets himself be pulled, his concern deepens. Like Percival, he mentally counts the days until the full moon and concludes that it is still too early for him to be feeling symptoms of transformation. He would know; he's spent the last several full moon cycles with his werewolf husband and learned to identify the particular signs. This isn't that, though it does share a few commonalities. He...responds to him in a similar way when the transformation is near, this hazy sort of singular focus.

Despite his own aversion to public displays of affection, Essek lets his hand slide to cup the back of Percy's neck as he leans up to kiss his cheek, light and soft near the corner of his mouth. When he leans back an inch and breathes in, he nearly shudders. Something in Percival's scent is different--or enhanced, perhaps, sharper and thicker, and it makes his skin prickle beneath his dress like a physical touch. He's shocked by just how arousing he finds, warmth flaring between his legs as though in automatic response.

While he's yet to experience one of Percival's ruts--and indeed, that of any alpha--Essek is a very smart man, and the clues seem clear enough now, leading all the way back to this morning.

"Are you due for rut very soon?" he asks, speaking even more quietly now. He imagines Percival would have told him if he was, and likely would not have wanted to be in Westrun at a party rather than at home in their own bed.

[alignmyheart]

The subtle change in Essek's scent as arousal hits him earns a soft, tightly restrained groan from Percy and his arm tightens around his husband. He wants to bury his face against Essek's neck and bury his cock--

He takes a sharper breath, trying to get a hold of himself as Essek murmurs his question. Is he? Percival has never really kept track of them. He doesn't know if it's something in his history or his transformative curse or something else, but his ruts have been irregular in general. He tries to think of when he had his last one - not very long after he and Essek married, very early days. He'd sequestered himself and, given the lack of stimulation, it had passed relatively quickly. That had been that. He shivers.

"I--I don't know," he confesses, forcing the words out. "They've never been all that predictable."

Percy resists the urge to nuzzle into Essek's hair. He knows how his husband feels about public displays and he's always respected that, but he can't--He forces himself to stand straight, putting five or six inches between his face and Essek's skin and hair.

"It's possible," he admits. "Likely, even? I hadn't thought--"

He thought he'd have more time. Or he hadn't been thinking of it at all, which is possibly worse. Percy makes himself smile.

"I'm fine," he assures, though he suspects it isn't nearly as convincing as he'd like it to be.

[graviturgy]

Oh, Light. He might not be able to tell what Percival is thinking exactly, but with that soft groan and the way he pulls him closer, he can guess. He gives a wordless hum to convey understanding and acknowledgement. That lack of predictability must be difficult to deal with. And it would make sense, he reasons, for it to have been sped along--perhaps even directly triggered--by their recent discussions and preparations.

Even as his own heart rate elevates, he levels a very dubious look up at his husband when he attempts to reassure him.

"Are you?"

It certainly doesn't seem like the sort of thing he'll be able to keep under wraps for the remainder of the evening--but if Percival wants to try, he won't stop him. It would be a slight to leave so early.

"You will not mind, then, if I accept a few offers to dance," he says mildly, knowing that he'll do no such thing.

[alignmyheart]

Percival takes another deep breath and lets it go slowly. He even manages a smile and gently pinches Essek's chin.

"I've managed under worse conditions." If he can make it through a formal dinner with the bloody Briarwoods, he can make it through the rest of this evening until such a time that he and Essek can leave without seeming to be rude.

When he feels ready, Percival rejoins the gathering with Essek and resumes working the room to build connections. He can be charming when he wants to be, but tonight it's far more difficult to maintain, even with Essek at his side. Maybe especially with Essek at his side. More than once he has to stop himself from getting short or giving in to his senseless irritation with the presence of others. It annoys him to hold back his desire to touch Essek; that annoyance turns to something sharper when he notices other people admiring his husband. Normally he would simply take a base sort of pride in the fact that someone else wants what he has, but that isn't how he feels now.

An hour or so after admitting he might be in a state, Percival says something rather cutting to someone offering Essek a somewhat flirtatious compliment.

[graviturgy]

Essek is skeptical at best, but Percival seems determined. "If you wish," he says, with a dismissiveness that implies he knows he's correct, but will graciously allow his husband to figure that out for himself.

He accompanies Percival on through the evening, remaining close for both their sakes. From his perspective, there is a slow but noticeable change. He can feel Percy's annoyance and frustration with the rest of the world even when he isn't making it obvious and does his best to soothe it, but there is only so much he can mitigate. Especially when he is the reason (though never the object) for it.

This isn't painless for him, either. Naturally, he reacts to Percival's mood and proximity and the change in his scent, and more than once has to steady himself against the flood of arousal it brings on. He also has to wonder how much those around them pick up on. How much they can smell.

The nail in the coffin, so to speak, is when Percival snaps in response to what had been a charged compliment from Essek's perspective, but far from vulgar or rude. Essek is adept at dealing with interest of this sort--dismissing it with skillful politeness when he isn't in the mood, or spinning it to his advantage if he finds cause. Well aware that tonight is not the occasion for the latter, he's about to implement the former with a subtle flash of his wedding ring before Percy cuts in. It's so unlike him that Essek is frozen with surprise for a moment before he makes a hurried apology on his behalf. With a hiss in Undercommon that he's certain Percival must understand on a primal level if not an intellectual one, he slips his hand into his mate's arm and pulls him away.

There are several hallways leading off from the main chamber, and he makes for the one that looks to have the least foot traffic. "That was far from tactful," he says under his breath. "If we are to stay, you need to release some hot air." Is that the phrase in Common? Light, he doesn't care.

negotiation & humiliation

[graviturgy]

Essek has opted to speak in Percival's study rather than their bedroom. Though they've certainly had sex in this room more than once--indeed, on both the couch where Essek is seated and the chair across from it Percival is occupying--it still lends itself a degree of separation which Essek finds important for a conversation such as this.

"To reiterate," he says coolly, "you are intending for this encounter to be sexual, correct? There will be sexual elements to the dialogue regardless, but I am confirming that you wish to actually have sex."

It might seem an obvious thing, but Essek much prefers asking obvious questions to getting something wrong in the moment. As he has already communicated, this is the time to hold nothing back. No question, comment, or concern is too small or inconsequential. His husband is placing an unprecedented amount of trust in him. Essek intends to honor that trust by not only keeping him safe, but giving him precisely the experience he desires.

Sitting forward on the sofa rather than leaning back, Essek's posture indicates his attentiveness as much as the focus of his violet eyes. His legs are primly crossed at the ankle and his hands are folded in his lap. Enshrouded in dark grey-blue velvet robes embroidered with silver stars, Essek has chosen to tie the sash around his middle in such a way that it emphasizes rather than hides his condition, the silken fabric cradling the slightly rounded curve of his belly. They found out last month that he was already more than a month in, and in the last several weeks the changes to his body have become impossible to ignore. After a formal announcement last week, Essek has taken to displaying the most prominent of these changes proudly.

He is aware of the toll this is likely taking on his husband, who has not been permitted an orgasm in three days now, despite regular sex. By they time they partake in the encounter they are discussing today, it will have been five.

[alignmyheart]

Percy meets Essek's gaze because he needs to look straight at his husband. This conversation isn't easy, but it is necessary and he loves Essek all the more for having it with him.

"Yes," he answers. "I'd like it to be."

Which leaves some room for Essek to decide that it shouldn't be at any point, and room for Percival to change his mind. And perhaps his mind is a little clouded and preoccupied by the fact that he hasn't come in days, despite being intimate with his husband regularly. Ever since they found out the full truth of Essek's condition, all Percival wants to do is be near him. His beautiful, capable, attractive, pregnant husband. Just thinking about it threatens to arouse him, but he tries to keep his focus.

Whether or not he comes during or after this particular experience will still be up to Essek.

"And I trust you to--notice if I'm slipping in the wrong direction." He also trusts that Essek is capable of avoiding that. The drow wizard knows him well and Percy is trusting him with more and more as they go.

[graviturgy]

Essek nods. That answer is as he thought, but now he knows. The intention is there, but that can change in the moment.

His sharp gaze softens a little as Percival reiterates his trust. "Of course. I will be watching you very carefully for such signs." To establish a physical connection, Essek extends a leg, and his slippered foot touches Percy's booted one. "And I trust you to inform me if I unknowingly stray too close to a sensitive topic. Even if it seems fitting in the moment, I still expect you to speak up. Do you understand?"

This is imperative. Essek will not permit his husband to harm himself with this. He will not be complicit in that. He loves him far too much.

"I would also like to know now if there are any specific words that are off limits, or subjects I should avoid beyond the ones I am already aware of. For example, would it ruin the experience if I were to belittle your intelligence? If I were to call you stupid, dull-witted, or the like?"

[alignmyheart]

"Yes, I understand." The trust goes both ways in this. He knows Essek doesn't want to truly hurt him, and he knows that this is not a punishment for him, nor is he to treat it like one. The next question earns a small but cocky smile. His intelligence is one of the few things that Percival has intense confidence in, and no amount of abuse from his loving husband will change that without some proof. If Essek goes there, he can take it.

"No, I don't think so. But I will find a way to tell you if that changes."

Because he honestly doesn't know. He has some unpleasant memories of another saying things like that to him, but the circumstances were so wholly different that Percy doesn't think he'll lose his connection to the present in doing this.

[graviturgy]

"If anything changes, whether regarding that topic or any other, we have our safeword," Essek reminds him. "I would also like to reiterate that in this specific encounter, we have decided that saying no or expressing discomfort may not be enough to make me stop what I am saying or doing. The safeword is there if you need it." Establishing this had come along with introducing a power dynamic to their bed with the potential for harm, and Percival knows he (or Essek) can use it at any time. But this experience will be much more intense, so a reminder does not feel excessive.

Essek's fingers curl tighter together in his lap as he cycles through ideas that he wants to be certain are on the table.

"Objectifying comments? Derogatory stereotypes about alphas? Implying sexual promiscuity in a demeaning way? Your transformation and canine traits?"

That last one also relates to-- "Using patronizing epithets in lieu of your name?"

[alignmyheart]

Despite the nature of their conversation, Percy can't help but give his husband a fond look. More than anything, he wants to go to his knees now, to hold Essek against him and reassure him. But better to keep their distance a little while longer.

"I'll be fine with all of that," he assures. "And I won't forget our watch word."

Percival does give in then. He closes the distance between them and gets to his knees between Essek's thighs, just so he can cradle his husband's face and kiss him. Even not in rut, even when Essek is no longer capable of going into heat, he smells good. It's different now and Percy is still deliriously happy over what they've managed together. He strokes his thumb over Essek's cheek as he breaks the kiss. He keeps his back straight, meaning he isn't that much shorter than his husband like this.

"Anything else?" he asks gently.

[graviturgy]

With confirmation that all he'd laid out is fair game, Essek is beginning to formulate a rough idea of what this may look like. But before he can continue his questioning, Percival falls to his knees in front of him.

Essek melts into his kiss. He parts his thighs to allow him closer and loops his arms over his shoulders to keep him there.

He loves this man. Breathing him in, he can sense his joy and contentment and satisfaction at having created together the potential that now lives and grows inside him. He shares those feelings, but the way Percival feels them, the depth of his gratitude and admiration, touches his heart. When his eyes blink open and meet his husband's, he can't help smiling.

"Yes, in fact. I have not even begun to ask about magic." His tone is fond, and only playfully reproachful. "I thought I told you not to distract me?"

[alignmyheart]

Percival's fingers brush gently over his husband's sides and back, playing with the fabric more than offering a deliberate caress. Even if this was not the point, somehow it feels better to continue this conversation here. He smiles at Essek, still playful.

"You did, but it seems you are now keeping me here," he says mildly, referencing the fact that Essek's arms are draped over his shoulders. "Ask me about magic."

He knows Essek's power, and while he's not witnessed all the spells the wizard is capable of, he has an idea of what might come into play here. But he wants to reassure his mate, and it will also give him a better idea of what to expect in this.