Essek could be wearing something utterly shapeless and Percival would still know exactly what he looks like beneath. He's spent far too long adoring every inch of his husband's body.

He swallows thickly and takes another steadying breath as Essek greets him, and he cannot help the smile he gives in answer to the warmth in the wizard's voice. He's always sensitive to smell, moreso since the infection in the Feywild. He couldn't ignore Essek's scent even if he wanted to and his body starts to respond accordingly.

"I am," he affirms. Percival closes his notebook and comes around his desk to brush a kiss to Essek's cheek: he wants to offer affection while he can.