A quiet, strained sound of frustration rises in his throat when Essek mentions returning to the inn. Percival understands, of course he does, that teleporting is not some minor spell and that Essek can only work with what reserves he has. There is nothing wrong with staying the night in an inn when they'd made arrangements to do so anyway. But the primal part of him wants to be surrounded by a familiar space, by one that is his. He will have to make due tonight.

Everything after that feels like a blur, and soon enough they are secluded in the back of a carriage and Essek his spreading his thighs, showing the mess they've made of him. Percy's heart is pounding again and without even a second of hesitation, he's on his knees with one hand firm on Essek's thigh, pushing it further out of his way as the other hand slides over his husband's hip. The scent of them here is thick, his own seed and Essek's sweet arousal.

Obedient, he bows his head to lick and kiss and suck the remnants of their efforts from Essek's thighs first. But that's nothing more than a tease to both of them and soon his hand moves to drag down his lover's smallclothes. His fingers bunch the fabric tightly as his tongue slides between slick, flushed folds. It doesn't occur to him to take his glasses off or even to push them up - but that is something that isn't unique to suddenly going into rut.

He moans against Essek and pushes his tongue deep with no interest in teasing his mate. His cock is already aching hard and he feels dizzy with the intense rush of arousal as it hits him. His tongue flicks in and out before he sweeps it up along Essek's slit to the base of his cock.