alignmyheart | au of an au

When Percival releases his shoulder, Essek is shaken from the daze he's fallen into. His chin tilts and he buries his nose in his husband's short hair, lifting a hand to cradle the back of his head. His thighs are wrapped tight around his hips and his body still shivers with residual pleasure, ensuring his cunt milks the cock inside him for as long as those lingering pulses last. He isn't going anywhere.

While his breath gradually evens out, he doesn't want to speak. This feels so right, so blissful, that words are unnecessary. He can say everything he needs with his body; a kiss against the top of Percival's head, a squeeze of his thighs as though trying to pull him even closer, his arm winding around his back and stroking gentle fingers along his spine.

Perhaps it is mostly instinct that makes him feel this way, but he loves the time that they spend tied. There is nothing so intimate as quietly holding his mate inside his body, hoping that his knot keeps his seed from spilling out long enough for it to take. Tonight especially, with both of them so unexpectedly in sync, at the beginning of what will be days of intense, shared need, these moments feel precious.

This is a kind of bliss Percival never thought he'd have. Essek's breathing slows and his body calms, and he can feel that as his own falls into the same rhythm. He feels content like this, the pair of them holding each other. Every caress lulls him and he returns the gentle affection with tender kisses and touches wherever he can.

That includes brushing an apologetic kiss to the darkening bruise in the shape of his mouth on Essek's shoulder.

"Didn't mean to bite so hard," he murmurs, finally breaking the comfortable silence. He shifts just enough to push himself up. He wants to see Essek's face and gods, is it worth it. Resting his weight on his forearms, Percival can brush his fingers through his husband's pale hair.

Essek blinks slowly, as though stirring from a trance, as Percival pushes himself up. He smiles when he sees his face, so dear and handsome. Though he feels the throb of a deepening bruise in his shoulder, he gives a gentle shake of his head. "There is no harm done." He feels in some deep, intrinsic way proud of that bruise, in fact.

Dark, slender fingers come up to frame Percy's face. Essek's thumbs graze lightly along his cheekbones. His violet eyes brim with fondness, and he murmurs a wondering phrase in Undercommon, then roughly translates. "How did I ever arrive here?"

When he considers how far this is from anything he'd ever imagined his life would be, it seems absurd. Shadowhand to the Bright Queen, untouchable scion of Den Thelyss, dunamantic prodigy; how quickly the facets of his identity unravel after defining him for decades, if not more than a century. Though not consecuted, he has been granted a new life in a way that is meaningful to him.

Essek de Rolo of Whitestone is a man with a purpose in life beyond his own selfish desires, who uses his arcane knowledge for the betterment of the world around him and the people in his care. He lives not in the city of eternal night, but the city of the Dawnfather, and turns his face to the light each day without the expectation of empty reverence. He has a husband (apparently cursed, but wonderful) whom he loves dearly, and remarkably, loves him as well. This same man is an alpha he is eager to share all of himself with, heat included. A sharp contrast to his reputation for frigidity in the Dynasty, and his particular rejection of any alpha bold enough to try courting him. That Essek Thelyss would even consider parenthood is an utterly laughable notion, but Essek de Rolo has decided on it quite firmly.

In so many ways, the man lovingly cradling his mate's face, filled with his knot and still eager to be claimed, is unrecognizable. Considering who he was and what atrocities his arrogance has wrought, this can only be a good thing.

Percival nearly closes his eyes as Essek's hands slide over his face in an affectionate caress. He never imagined that he would be worthy of the look his husband gives him now, fond and tender. And the question he asks earns a soft breath of a laugh when Percy exhales, because he could ask the very same thing.

Once upon a time, he'd been too young to seriously think of marriage or even consider a future beyond his own interests. His older siblings would surely inherit, and he would be left to his own devices to serve as he would. When his family and his future were brutally ripped away, Percival de Rolo almost ceased to exist entirely. He became someone and something else for the sake of clawing back even a shred of his inheritance. For the sake of avenging those cruelly taken. Even in lifting a shadow from his home, Percival saw no future here. No place for him, twice-cursed and broken.

And he could never imagine someone loving him, or deserving to be loved. He could never have imagined having children, a family, after losing so much. Nor could he ever have dreamed of a marriage like this, with a partner who is shrewd and intelligent and fierce, proud and calculating, supportive and determined and accepting. Percival fell in love with Essek's mind, and very swiftly the rest of him.

He leans down to kiss his husband, trying to express the tenderness otherwise caught as a lump in his throat. His fingers brush back Essek's pale hair and when they part he initiates another kiss almost immediately. They have both done things they are ashamed of, but neither has looked away.

"You have given me everything," he whispers. "Everything I could not believe I deserved. And more."

His thumb strokes against Essek's sharp cheekbone.

"I have been drowning for so long I forgot what breaking the surface felt like. I thought floating just beneath was the best I could achieve. No longer, with you."

As Percival leans down, Essek's hands slide to the back of his neck, holding him close as they kiss. He presses his lips against his husband's with fierce tenderness, filled with the sort of devastating, soul-deep love he'd once scoffed at. Perhaps because he truly did not think himself capable of it.

His heart aches for the hopelessness Percival expresses, his resignation to a half-life where he could not conceive of pursuing the things he wanted for himself, questioning his own worthiness. Essek looks at him and sees him, and is all the more determined to love him. He summons all the sincerity he is capable of and steels himself against the uncomfortable vulnerability of honesty.

"I...still often feel undeserving of this. Of you, and the comfortable existence I have found in Whitestone," he admits, his soft voice even quieter still between them. "Yet, if my presence is what has helped you to breathe again...how can I question it? You have asked for nothing, yet provided me with a home and a future when I believed I had lost both."

There is a fevered desperation in his eyes, a need for his husband to hear the words he is saying and believe them.

"You are a remarkable man, Percival, in every way that matters to me. Anything I can give, I give freely, because I believe you deserving."

"I love you," he murmurs. "I want to strive every day to be worthy of that."

He leans down for another tender kiss. Percy bumps his brow against Essek's and he cannot help the smile that appears. Despite the weight of the pasts, they are unfettered moving forward. Essek, a beautiful and capable omega, wants him and to bear children with him. They are trying their damnedest, in fact, to make that happen.

Percy feels his knot give, but he doesn't immediately withdraw. It feels good and soothing to be near Essek like this. He's more gentle with the next kiss, far less desperate.

"We," he murmurs, "are going to make beautiful half-drow children." His smile grows brighter and he punctuates that with another kiss.

Against his husband's mouth, Essek smirks, amused and pleased, wide enough to show his fangs. His arms drape over Percy's shoulders and his knees squeeze his sides where his legs still bracket his hips, keeping him close even after the release of his knot.

"We certainly will," he agrees, nipping flirtatiously at his alpha's lower lip. The de Rolo line will be quite different from here forward. Essek would venture that there has never been a noble house in Tal'Dorei carrying drow blood. "Theirs will be a proud heritage indeed." Both of them are already referring to multiples, Essek notes without concern, before they've even made one. Perhaps too ambitious, but the idea appeals to him, especially now.

"We should rest, if you are amenable," he adds gently. "If we can manage four hours, I can get us home."

Hopefully before things escalate even further for them.

Percy manages to nod and he gives Essek another tender kiss before he pulls away, pulls out. His breath catches quietly as his cock slips free. He feels two conflicting urges all at once: to push back in, to try to keep Essek full even if he isn't fully hard anymore, or to sink down between his thighs and replace his cock with his tongue until his husband is sighing and arching beneath him. He doesn't do either, because if he does they will never get rest.

He eases off to the side and immediately pulls Essek into his arms. He strokes the wizard's pale hair back form his face and looks at him with quiet adoration. For now, he feels steady, clear-headed, and Essek is right: they should rest while they can. If they are in heat and rut together, there won't be much of that before long.

"I finally feel like I can sleep, but you are making that terribly difficult."

Essek smells good, he feels good, and Percival can't stop thinking about wanting him. He sighs softly and pulls Essek closer so that he can nuzzle into his hair. The promise of going home is enough for him to at least try to keep his hands above his lover's waist.

Essek is far from unaffected himself. Practically as soon as Percy's cock slips free, he wants it back again, hard or not. The strong arms around him pulling him close to his mate's body eases the ache of separation just enough that Essek is confident he'll be able to trance for at least as long as he needs to. It is likely the last time trancing will be an option for him this week, when heat exhausts him enough that he can't help slipping into the stupor of true sleep.

"Merely by existing?" he teases, though he knows exactly what Percival is referring to. The scent of his rut is what had pushed his own body into a similar state to accommodate him, and even after several rounds of very satisfying sex, it remains deeply appealing. It isn't only the seed left behind that is keeping his cunt wet. "You think highly of me, husband."

Somehow, nosing into the crook of the other man's neck, where the scent is strongest, helps to relax him. Smiling lazily, he kisses the skin there and intertwines their legs, feeling no need to pull up the blankets to cover them. His skin is hot already, and anything more would have him sweating through his trance.

"Merely by existing," he confirms, a smile in his voice as Essek nuzzles close. He can feel his husband's breath warm against his neck and it brings him deep comfort. "Have I not been obvious about how highly I regard you?"

His fingers drift affectionately over Essek's back and he presses a kiss to the top of his mate's head. Gods, he loves this man.

Percival does manage to slip into sleep, though not deeply. Essek only needs a four-hour trance and he knows he will wake the moment the wizard stirs, there is no escaping that. He's too attuned right now to sleep through anything involving his mate. He's also very eager to be home in a very primal way. Somewhere familiar, safe, and theirs.

Perhaps he should have anticipated that he'd be half-hard by the time Essek wakes.

"You have," Essek concedes with an enigmatic little smile. "I simply never tire of hearing it."

Somehow he is able to clear his mind sufficiently to slip into the meditative state of trance. The subject of his meditation is likely what makes it possible. Memories of his husband from their very first meeting to earlier tonight cycle through his mind, not linear, but each connected in some way to the one previous. The last before his body demands consciousness is from his previous heat several months ago, trudging cold and lost and foolishly determined through the timberlands and encountering a great white wolf there.

He is recalling the sensation of burying his face into the thick, soft fur at his neck when he wakes with his face pressed against the warm skin of Percival's neck. The scent is almost exactly the same. He breathes in deep and feels the effect it has on his body; a heavy throb between his legs, a prickling over his skin, a spreading warmth. Though he is already quite hot, and he can feel just from a cursory shift of his legs that his thighs are soaked and his cock more than a little swollen.

He can also feel that he isn't the only one. With a quiet, breathy hum, he slips the hand that was draped over Percy's hip down between them to encircle his cock. Essek hasn't so much as opened his eyes yet, but he knows just how to stroke to ensure he doesn't remain half-hard for long.

"What do you think, my love?" He asks in a sleepy, silky whisper. "Shall I take care of this for you now? Or would you prefer I get us home first?"

"I want to be home," he answers, even as he rocks into Essek's knowing touch. Percival's voice is still heavy and he nuzzles against Essek's neck, face buried there to breathe him deep. What he wants is to bury himself in Essek. He wants to fuck him until they are locked together again, increasing their chances of conceiving. He wants to leave dark marks in the shape of his mouth all over his mate's body, on the off-chance that anyone else might possibly see them and know that Essek is his.

Percy mutters a soft curse and his hand moves down Essek's back until he can push between his husband's thighs from behind, his fingers immediately rubbing over slick folds. He is so wet and ready, it would take nothing--but he knows it will delay them in getting home, and he wants to be somewhere familiar and safe. Ridiculous as it is, he knows it will soothe the most primal parts of him to be in a room that smells like them, in a place he has known all his life, with the easy support of people who understand their needs in their rut and heat.

But breeding Essek until neither of them can move will also satisfy a primal urge. And now his cock is fully hard against his husband's palm.

Percy sighs heavily and tries to push two fingers into Essek even while his legs are together.

Despite his answer, Percival grows distracted quickly. Essek knows he is in part to blame, but he can't regret it when he too is so easily pulled in by his husband's magnetism. He shudders, arching his back as a hand pushes demandingly between his thighs. Muffling a gasp against Percy's throat as muscles deep within him flex, he doesn't turn that hand away. Two rough fingers manage to dip just inside his cunt past his clenched legs, and he could so easily melt into the bed and tacitly permit more of that touch. He is too empty, especially when his alpha is hot and hard in the loose curl of his palm.

"I can get us there," he pants, though he is already losing the thread of that thought. "I--" First they have to gather their things, and then they should probably make at least an attempt at dressing, in case his teleportation happens to be off target--

Light, that is too much. He snarls, frustrated by his own desperation, lips curling back from sharp fangs. He doesn't know if he could stand, much less pack or dress, when the need to be full is so consuming.

Quickly, then.

Both resigned and eager, he releases Percival's cock and rolls slowly onto his belly. Every inch of his skin feels hot and sensitive, including his face as he buries it between his pillow and his husband's shoulder. His legs are still pressed tight together, lifting his hips just barely from the sheets.

He strokes over Essek's slick entrance and manages to penetrate just an inch or so without changing their position. He's so wet and ready, Percy knows that he is, and it's all he can think about now that he can feel it. Essek needs him; he needs Essek. How could anything else possibly matter?

Percival can hear his husband's breathless voice trying to tell him what they need to do in order to get home, and he knows he should stop this and let them both get ready and dress. They could be home in a matter of moments if he would just let Essek get up. But--

But then his mate is rolling over and lifting his hips, and it is the only invitation that Percy needs. He moves over Essek's smaller body and gets his knee between his husband's, coaxing them further apart - just enough - that he can rub his cock against Essek's dripping cunt. He keeps one hand braced on the bed for balance and guides himself with the other. It takes so little to push into the beautiful omega beneath him.

"Essek--"

Essek's back sinks into a deeper arch, lifting his hips another inch as his husband's cock slots into him smoothly, opening him up with almost languid ease. His lips part in a gasp that makes no sound, and he blinks over his shoulder, slow and heavy-lidded, his face darkly saturated with a deep flush.

His cunt throbs, rewarding Percival's assertive approach with the coaxing squeeze of slick-hot walls. Essek's lashes flutter, his toes curl against the sheets, and he manages a soft, breathy noise. After the ache of emptiness, this sharp excess of sensation is almost too much, too good. His thighs twitch and press together again reflexively, which only serves to tighten his passage around his alpha's cock. For a moment, he feels sure he'll come from this alone, just from being filled so completely. But somehow this isn't the peak of his pleasure; only the beginning.

With a wanton desperation that would mortify him if witnessed by anyone but his mate, he rolls his hips up with what little leverage he has, grinding the round curve of his ass back against the man over him. The friction this causes within him has him stifling an open-mouthed moan into his pillow.

Any thought of returning home is temporarily suspended, his logic routed by the scent of his alpha in rut, his own insistent heat, and the kind of raw physical pleasure he has only recently discovered.

The rest of the world ceases to exist as Essek's cunt tightens around him, encouraging him deep. Percival bows his head, nose dragging against his lover's neck to breathe deep his scent as he grinds closer. He leans hard into one hand so the other is free to reach beneath his mate, curing around his hard cock as Percy mouths at his neck and shoulder. His teeth drag against dark skin before he bites down. Gods, Essek makes him feel like he's going mad.

It takes a moment to get the position right so that he can actually move the way he wants to. Percival lifts his head to nip at the elegant point of Essek's ear and murmurs heavy praise in his ear.

"I need you, darling. I know you need this too."

He fucks Essek then with long, deep strokes. They are both just waking and Percy cannot even conceive of teasing either of them just now. Given how hard his rut is hitting, he's not sure he'll be able to manage any teasing before it's over.

"I cannot wait to see you swell with our heir," he whispers, voice tight with his pleasure. The thought makes him dizzy and he groans with a quiet frustration. They didn't manage during Essek's last heat, and that's no one's fault but he feels an urgency now that is consuming. "Essek--"

Light, he does need this. He's near delirious with it. He feels so tight like this, the drag of Percival's cock along his walls much more intense. Essek moves his hips as much as he can to follow his alpha's firm, deliberate rutting back and forth, the same motion that pushes his own stiff cock into the warm, calloused hand circling it. He doesn't even shy away from the sting of a bite against his shoulder, so badly does he want to be marked.

His ear gives a tiny quiver, the sensation of teeth and warm breath against sensitive skin traveling all the way down his spine. In more than a century, no other man has ever made him feel like this. He moans and moans as his husband fucks him without pretense, and tries to muffle himself out of some lingering sense of modesty. He remembers where they are, knows that they might be overheard. But Light, with his alpha whispering encouragement like that, it is easy to forget his resolve to be quiet.

"Yes," he pants, hazy and wild. He feels secure beneath the warm weight of his husband's larger human body, and every deep thrust into the silken squeeze of his dripping cunt sends a surge of pleasure through him so potent he can already feel the edge of orgasm nearing. "Breed me, Percival--I am ready, please--" He has spent months now actively seeking to become pregnant by this man. He is not content to wait months more.

His first orgasm sweeps through him in a hard shiver, muscles tightening and trembling. The high of it is heady and lasting, so much that a second may quickly follow. His cock would seem to agree; it pulses gently against Percy's fingers, but doesn't spill much, and doesn't yet soften.

Percival loses control, which he only tenuously had in the first place, the moment he hears Essek begging to be bred.

He pushes hard into his husband as soft, slick walls clench around him. His knot swells, grinding against Essek's opening before he finally pushes it in. It's able to slip free just a few times before they're locked together. Percy shudders as he comes hard; he lets go of Essek's cock in favor of looping his arm tight around his husband's chest, holding him close. He pants for breath as his cock pulses inside Essek, giving everything the drow's body demands.

Percy bows his head, nuzzling gently against Essek's neck. He's dizzy with his release, quick and urgent as it was. His arm slips from around Essek, allowing his smaller body to sag against the bed, still knotted to him. His hand is gentle as it strokes over the wizard's side and back, offering comfort after such a quick tumble.

He hopes it's enough to keep his head clear until they can get back to Whitestone.

Essek pants, trying to take in enough air to stop his head from spinning as he throbs around the cock twitching inside him. The thick knot is swollen just inside his entrance, pressed right up against the sweet spot in his cunt that makes his legs shake. Every time he bears down, milking his alpha of every drop he can spare, it feels so good his thighs quiver. With overwhelming pleasure still thrumming through his body, he's pushed with no extra effort into a second orgasm before Percival's is over, tightening all over again with a stifled keen.

Light, what a way to begin his day. He's sagged nearly boneless against the bed, trying to will his highly sensitized skin to interpret his husband's warm breath on his neck and the gentle strokes of his hand over his arched back as soothing rather than inflaming.

For the moment, there is little to do but lay there and feel--which is lucky, because that is about all he is capable of. A little slurred Undercommon is muffled into his pillow before he turns his head again and blinks heavily over his shoulder.

"Good morning," he says in soft, heavily-accented Common.

Percival remains braced over his husband, arm locked as the other hand stills and rests gently on Essek's slim waist. His thumb strokes over the soft, dark skin and for a moment all he can do is breathe. Essek is beautiful beneath him and Percy can feel the throb of his cunt as he winds down from his second orgasm in short succession. It takes effort not to just collapse on the smaller body beneath him - if he does, it may take even longer for either of them to move.

A weak, breathless laugh escapes him when he hears Essek's voice. Percival leans down to press a gentle kiss between his sharp shoulder blades.

"Good morning, lover," he murmurs sweetly.

Percy has to wait a while longer for his knot to go down, but as soon as he's certain he can pull out without hurting either of them, he does. He sits back, leg folded beneath him, rather than dropping down next to Essek the way he wants to. He rubs a gentle hand down Essek's back. Percy wants to go to him. He wants to taste him, to caress and stroke him until both of them are ready again. But it must wait or they will never leave this room.

Essek enjoys his husband's gentle attention as they wait, and he makes himself concentrate on listing everything they have with them in his mind, ensuring that he can pack it all quickly. He still whimpers when Percy carefully pulls out, instantly aching for the fullness of his length inside him to return. Instead of collapsing back into the bed, Essek forces himself to sit up. Percival seems to be in a similarly dazed but determined state. Essek swallows.

"We must gather our things and go now, if we wish to leave at all," he says. It goes against every one of his instincts to slip from the bed where his alpha waits for him, but he reminds himself that it is for the purpose of returning home, where they will be safe and comfortable and undisturbed.

Luckily, magic makes packing significantly easier. A few smaller items fit in his wristpocket, and the rest in the chest he summons with a flick of his fingers. He doesn't distinguish between his own things and Percival's; everything is coming with them, and he doesn't have the patience to organize. He leaves a shirt and trousers on the bed for his husband, and hurries to slip into the simplest robes he has on hand, more traditionally Kryn than anything he's worn in months.

"Come and get dressed, darling," he instructs, remarkably soft for how impatient he is feeling. "The sooner you do, the sooner we may go home."

Percival gets up to help throw things into the chest Essek summons for them. He stops only when Essek points out that he too should probably dress. Right. He pulls on the clothes left for him and he leans to kiss Essek as soon as they're both covered. That's a mistake, he knows it as soon as their lips meet but he couldn't imagine letting the opportunity pass, either.

"I'm ready when you are," he murmurs, staying very close even though he knows there is no need for it for this spell. Well, not as close as he is right, now, anyway. But he would rather make this journey while holding onto his husband, quick as it may be.

"Straight to the bedroom?" he suggests, if only because from there they can manage quite a few things and they will not have to travel any distance before undressing again. Percy shakes his head a bit, trying to get his thoughts in order.

"Wait, can you send a message ahead of us? Just let someone know we're arriving and--the state we're in."

Percy really should know better, but so should Essek; he still kisses back, and drapes his arms over his husband's shoulders to keep him from moving away. A twirl of his fingers returns his secret chest to its pocket dimension, and he hums an affirmation.

"I don't think we have business anywhere else," says Essek mildly, with a faint smirk. But just as he's about to cast, Percival stops him. It takes heat-slowed mind a moment to redirect, but it is good idea to get this part out of the way before they arrive and become immediately too caught up in each other.

Growing increasingly antsy, he Sends to the chamberlain, a woman who is entrusted with many of their household's day-to-day affairs, to warn and instruct her as well as he can with a twenty-five word limit. Thankfully, her response indicates that she understood perfectly well what Essek was driving at with his somewhat delicate phrasing.

Sending is always accompanied by a subtle arcane vibration in the back of his mind. As soon as it fades, Essek looks to his husband again. "Well, with that taken care of..."

There are no somatic components for Teleportation, and they are returning somewhere he is intimately familiar with. The chances for a mishap are exceedingly low. So Essek indulges himself; he leans in close, nestles his face against his lover's shoulder, and breathes in deep. As he speaks the short phrase of Teleportation aloud, his mind clouds over with a distracting surge of heat, and--

--they arrive. There is stone beneath their feet, as there should be. There is no pain, so they sustained no damage. But when Essek unburies his face from Percival's lapel, it isn't their bedroom that greets him. They are standing in the castle's grand library, a good ten minutes on foot from their rooms. Essek hisses several words fast and sharp, a colorful (and blasphemous) curse in Undercommon, and then drops his face back down against Percy's shoulder with a muffled, frustrated groan.

At least he'd had the foresight to ensure they were dressed.

Percival turns his head to nuzzle against Essek's hair. He smells so good and he can feel his husband's face pressed to his shoulder. His mind clouds and all he can think of is Essek, all he wants is this man in his arms.

His arms tighten with that familiar rush of teleportation and--they aren't where he thinks they should be. Percy lifts his head, immediately recognizing the grand library. He suppresses a smile when Essek lets loose some colorful language before groaning against him. Percy lets himself huff a laugh and he strokes his fingers through Essek's hair.

"Well, close enough, hm?" he says, attempting to cheer Essek up. "One of our favorite rooms, at least."

Percival's fingers slide to Essek's chin and he gently coaxes the wizard's head up so that he can kiss him. Perhaps that wasn't his best idea, because kissing Essek while he's in rut and while his husband is in heat is not a simple matter. His tongue flicks past Essek's lips before Percy makes himself lift his head.

"Shall we try again or just walk?" he asks as his free hand strokes down Essek's back.

Well, at least Percival is amused. Essek lifts his head, guided by the fingers beneath his chin, and his glower is promptly dispelled with a kiss. Impossible, really, not to lose himself in it a little, lips parting for the all too brief press of his husband's tongue. It's good that Percy pulls back when he does; they could very easily get much too carried away for the public space they've found themselves in.

Essek hates that he gives serious consideration to teleporting again for even a moment. He isn't that far gone, is he? It would be utterly ridiculous to waste such high level magic to take them to another location within the castle.

"We'll walk," he decides, and promptly rises several inches off the ground into a float. One of them will walk, anyway. "But should anyone attempt to waylay us, I can't promise I'll be nice."

Pushing against Percy's chest with both hands, he drifts out of his hold, though he remains within easy reach. In fact, he waits expectantly to be offered an arm.

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